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#I miss my little vessel goner thing. I want them back
spectacledraws · 2 years
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MISSING LINK MISSING LINK THE LOST LINK ON THE CHAIN
I am listening to Missing Link from Revolutionary Girl Utena ✌️
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the-blathermouth · 2 years
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"We don't talk about gaster"
So I've gotten hooked on that Bruno song from Encanto (I've never even watched the film) and by the end of the day this thought association love child parody came to be, thought I would share it along with a picture that came to mind while making it. Hope you like it. :)
*Kris (Seam)*
We don't talk about gaster-er-er-er
We don't talk about gaster
But
Back before yesterday (Back on a better day)
I checked under my bed and found a box full of broken glass (found crystals like broken glass)
In gaster lurked, took the box with a smirk
(Chaos)
Just who is the teacher of this class?! (Sorry dear travel go on)
used the shards for it's own gain (too much to handle)
Implanted darkness in their brain (hurry and light up your candle)
Drove your darkner friends insane (knowledge is a blessing and a bane)
*Both*
We don't talk about gaster-er-er-er
We don't talk about gaster
*Spamton*
Ah
Sometimes late I night I feel the [help me! It burns!] Stinging, I can still hear it's voice it's inside my head a ringing, can't you hear it droaning on just like a dialtone? *Dial up noises* running though the dark I heard it [wing ding]ing, said it could cut me free from all of the stringing, I'm sure it'll be back to help me over the phone, [PLEASE PICK UP THE PHONE]
*Jevil*
Seven foot frame empty pitch black eyes, every word it'd say is quite a surprise, chaos is the key the truth sets you free
*All*
We don't talk about gaster-er-er-er
We don't talk about gaster
*Goner kid*
It told me I don't exist the world goes on
*Clam girl*
It told me the end of all will come before long
*River person*
It said to wait by the lake to hear a familiar song
*All 3*
As soon as you meet it your as good as gone!
*Natalie (Everyman)*
It told me that when the world goes dark it will be mine to bend to my will, it told me to ignore how the prayer's they will say leave me feeling ill (hey guys Toriel is on her way)
*Spamton (Natalie)*
It told me I can finally be [free] up in [heaven] I'll be if I did what it said, it's like I hear it's voice (darling)
(you don't understand what I am) like I can still hear it voice, I still hear it's voice!
*Vee*
Um...gaster
Yeah about that gaster
I really need to know about gaster
Give me the truth and the whole truth gaster
*Jevil (all but Vee)*
Oh Lacrecia your "mother's" here!
(Times running out)
*Jevil* Seven foot frame empty pitch black eyes
*Kris* Back before yesterday
*Seam* Back in much better days
*Natalie* it told me that when the world goes dark
*Spamton* Sometimes late I night I feel the [help me! It burns!] Stinging
*Jevil* every word it'd say is quite a surprise
*Kris* I checked under my bed and found a box full of broken glass
*Seam* found crystals like broken glass
*Natalie* it will be mine to bend to my will
*Spamton* I can still hear it's voice it's inside my head a ringing, can't you hear it droaning on just like a dialtone? *Dial up noises*
*Jevil* chaos is the key
*Kris* In gaster lurked, took the box with a smirk
*Natalie* it told me to ignore how the prayer's
*Spamton* running though the dark I heard it [wing ding]ing
*Jevil* the truth sets you free
*Seam* Chaos
*Kris* Just who is the teacher of this class?! *Seam* Sorry dear travel go on
*Natalie* they will say leave me feeling ill, but still
*Spamton*said it could cut me free from all of the stringing, I'm sure it'll be back to help me over the phone, [PLEASE PICK UP THE PHONE]
*Everyman* hey guys Toriel is on her way
*Kris* used the shards for it's own gain
*Seam* too much to handle
*Jevil* Seven foot frame empty pitch black eyes
*Natalie* it told me that when the world goes dark it will be mine to bend to my will
*Spamton* it told me I can finally be [free] up in [heaven] I'll be
*Kris* Implanted darkness in their brain
*Seam* hurry and light up your candle
*Jevil* every word it'd say is quite a surprise
*Spamton* if I did what it said, what it said
*Kris* Drove your darkner friends insane
*Jevil* chaos is the key
*Seam* knowledge is a bane
*Spamton* nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, all wrong
*Natalie* but it's wrong, but it's wrong but it's wrong, I'm all wrong
*Jevil* the truth sets you free
*All but Vee (Vee)*
She's here!
Don't talk about gaster (why did I talk about gaster)
Not a word about gaster (I never should've brought up gaster)
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Silver In The Sea (Julian Devorak! Pirate x Mermaid! Reader)
Summary: A year into his travels at sea, Julian Devorak is faced with the highs and lows of sailing across the southern sea; facing the dangers that come with it. As a physician, he is given many opportunities to live out the days in surviving for himself - especially against many things that want him dead.
Notes: I will try to get the character of Julian as best as I can. Mentions of blood, injury, near-drowning experiences. Julian likes to talk his way out of everything, nearly costing him to lose his tongue.
SUPPORT ME ON A03, MY USERNAME THE SAME AS HERE!!
1  -  2  -  3  -  4
Silver In The Sea Prologue (Storms Swell)
The winds howled and blew with defiance, the chaos that swirled and twisted the world around it into its grasp; on set for destruction. 
A storm bigger than the ones ever seen across the southern sea had set its course for havoc, creating an off-balance for all those that were in its way.
Screams and shouts for lack of order could barely be heard through the commotion and screams of the sea's revenge, and Julian's ears rang like bells playing its heavy toll in his mind. 
He had heard those bells before, setting off the unknown memories of hearing the mark for dread: a dead monarch, a city under siege, he had been there for many.
Through the eye of the storm, the rain slashed and cut through men like they were fishes ready for gutting, and Julian had never seen such a storm so bad in the time he had been sailing for new adventures. 
Eliana's Song - named after one of the old King's daughters aeons ago- was a highly treasured and hefty vessel; with high sails and large a hull wider than any of the other spice ships he had seen. 
She was a mighty vessel, able to block off attacks and last through years without being destroyed from the weather, but Julian thought that the Gods must've been joking and acting cruelly for this day to finally see to both to bring it down. They were being under attack by both weather and men from another ship; looking to steal and kill and sink her to a watery grave.
How shameful. Julian thought, ducking as a collision from the pirate's cannon caved into the right side of the ship. I was wanting to see this beauty come back into port in the near summer.
"Devorak, you're needed." The quartermaster spoke over the screams that definitely told him that someone was injured: a man screaming more than just bloody murder. Julian didn't need to reply, stepping out with one weary look into the open as he ran with his supplies into the firing range. 
The rain poured and nearly sent him flying to the ground, but he managed to plant himself in time to miss a rumble from the bowels of the vessel, sending over men to the floor.
"Hold on, old friend, stay with us." Julian's voice was borderline on calm for the entire situation, kneeled before the man as the rain-soaked and washed the injurer's blood away. 
He didn't know why he was all so positive in this situation, he was risking his life for a man who already had his right foot blown off, laying in his own blood and those of his crew.
He had seen many deaths before, many during a crisis like this: failing to save another's life when he thought so little of his own. It made him wonder why he was so selfless, for being an unlicensed doctor was there to help others.
Following procedures like clockwork, Julian shut the man up with some cloth that he had ripped from his shirt, stuffing it in his mouth as he tried to concentrate over the sounds of other dying men and cannons flying in all directions. 
He assessed his wound, using as much cloth to stop the bleeding, blood already seeping in through it and staining his gloved hands.
The smell of ash was strong in the air, and Julian had grown used to the smell of bodies around him but never was a smell so foul as a body caught on fire. 
He looked over, the shouts of his name being called around him-- no- screaming at him to get on with helping another with lesser injuries. "He's a dead man." He had heard so often, he could know when it would be said.
Julian looked to the man as he was slowly succumbing to blood loss, and he moved on, sending a silent prayer to him as he crawled hands and knees through blood, guts and corpses. There was no time to pray for the dead, not like this. He thought.
"Sir, there are men needing help down in the gallery, shall I attend to them?" Julian leaned into a fallen piece of the mass, leant with the First Mate. 
"They'll be dead before the sun even rises Devorak. Stay on deck and above. I'm not going to lose an idiot of a doctor like you. The Gods may be cruel, but they will be crueller if they take you with them."
Julian would've laughed at the comment, or perhaps compliment, laughter yet mirthless in the situation. "When this is over, I'll buy you a drink, how does that sound Doctor? Just to laugh and say we survived a shipwreck and pirate onslaught."
"A pint of salty bitters will suffice me, Sir." Julian had missed the taste of it, trying to remember when he had had it last. At 2 am in a pub during his time training. All there was on board was salty crackers and warmed rum lying in the sun, and that didn't serve him to satisfaction at all. 
"Gods you may outrun your damn mouth, but one would have to be a half-wit to know of your skills." Praised the quartermaster, an unknown conviction and feeling to know what to mean of it.
A crash from the far end of the ship caught their attention, smoke rising as Julian thought the deck was beginning to feel unbelievably hot. 
"Water is coming in from the hull Sir!" The physician heard from who knew where, as the vessel groaned with the knowledge of its end. 
"Then let's give the fuckers a fight then! Do not cease fire!"
The sky cracked with a fire above and Julian saw how much it lit up the entire dark sky. A flash of the neighbouring vessel attacking them, smoke filling his lungs as well as sea salt. 
He wasn't believing he was dying today, oh no-- Eliana's Song was a strong one, and she wouldn't go down without a fight. Another crash and a churn of something came from both ends, and Julian groaned with it. "Sir, most of our cannons have been destroyed or sunken!"
"Prepare to evacuate ship! She's a goner, gentlemen. Prepare the dinghy."
Rain and sea salt scratched at the side of Julian's face, as he blinked back the saltiness from his grey eye. He wasn't crying - the last time he believed he cried was when he was saying farewell to Pasha, and she had cried an ocean for him that day. So much so that he had cried with her in their embrace goodbye as she begged him not to leave:
"Don't leave me Ilya, please."
Only the Gods knew how long ago he had seen her last: way when he was setting off to begin a career as a doctor in Prakra when he was saying goodbye to his humble town of Nevivon. 
They had both been young, too young to know of the consequences to life and what trauma would be followed. She had been young but would she recognised him now? Smiling brightly as he made his way back to port and hug and cry when they saw each other? 
He had forgotten of the past life he once lived, where he lived with Pasha and they were both happy. But Julian wanted more to life and he wished to not look back, or else he would become lost. 
A smiling younger sister is who I want to see again. He thought glumly, as the carnage continued to ensue around him. I'm not going to die today, not until I see her, or else I've failed her and me.
He toppled over abruptly when another cannonball hit the middle, a spray of bodies flying from the drastic hit as more things caught on fire. 
Men were evacuating, some hoping that the sea would save them as they jumped overboard. There was a deafening cry from all around him, and Julian wished he had been smarter than to risk his life jumping overboard too.
He could hear his name being shouted at from those around him, those calling him for his aid, others screeching for him to get his dramatic hind off the now-sinking ship. He was useless to both he thought, standing to his height as he looked around with one of his good eyes.
The final strike from either the lightning or from the ramming ship was enough to cease the vessel's journey to beneath the waves, as she cracked merely in two if those could witness it from afar. 
Her entire vessel shook, sending men over the rails as they were trying to get as many on the dinghy as possible. If Julian was to survive this, he was not thinking in Hell he would be surrounded by other men on a small crowded boat.
Even looking down, the waters were blackened, as if Hell was awaiting for every crew member and himself. He hesitated for a second before the ground split just below his feet.  
An opening of an opportunity arose and Julian took it, leaping down as the gap grew larger and larger, water swelling into the cracks as men fell and burned. The fall was long and Julian could hear those of the crashing waves waiting to meet him as he landed, the cold taking over his body when it hit him.
He crashed beneath the waves in a frantic crawl, kicking and pushing as all he could see beneath the waves was darkness and sinking bodies. 
There was debris falling in, large pieces of wood that he had to be careful of as he finally breached the surface, gasping as if it had been his first intake of breath in a long time.
Men are dying up there, and here I am, being a coward, not dying beside them. He thought, trying to attempt to swim as he watched in horror, the dingy that was coming down with the ropes caught fire, toppling those inside backwards as they fell into the water, crashing and not resurfacing. 
He gulped wiping at his brow as he looked around him. A sea for a group of innocent men, not ready to die in the graveyard of water below.
"Oh gods, the mast! Watch out!" Julian gaped in horror as he stared up into the sky, the largest mast was caught alit with everything else, titling so closed off as the flames caught it to tilt. 
The dread was something that made Julian Devorak's body kick into overdrive, scrambling to kick at all his long limbs as the mast grew exponentially closer and closer as it fell like a lead weight.
The doctor made a descent under, trying to pull his long body down and down as far as he could get himself to go, his head looking up to see just in time the massive piece to come crashing with a roar in the sea, sinking quicker than Julian could expect.
A piece snagged onto the corner of his shirt, and Julian would've groaned in the discomfort and pain when a long slash came to the back his lower back, his shirt ripping as he struggled to release himself. 
No, I will not die. His mind was in two parts, tugging at his conscious as he was growing desperately short of breath the longer he was down there. His mind always went back to a smiling Pasha, awaiting him to see him, but her smile dropping quicker when there was no sign of him getting off.
He finally released himself from the piece of broken wood, his lungs feeling as if they had caught fire as he tiredly carried his body to the surface. His eye stung with salt, his throat burning as he spluttered and coughed. 
"Anyone alive! Help me! Can anyone hear me?" His voice called over the water as the dying sounds of men quietened. Eliana's Song cried a final woeful tune as she began to sink beneath the black waves.
Julian gritted his teeth, kicking as he grabbed a piece of debris to use as a float, his hand going back and past the open skin, grunting in surprise as to what when he pulled back was blood stained on his fingers. 
Oh, Gods. He barely panicked, but seeing himself injured gravely was one that made him think to what could be in the water awaiting him with an empty tomb for himself.
The sea was known for sharks and sometimes krakens- men were always creative in thinking of tales of the large creatures that could pull ships over and under. Sea dragons that belonged more in the northern sea, with breath colder than hot, able to freeze over a vessel on the spot. 
It wasn't the krakens or the sea dragons that worried him- he had heard story after story told to him and he grew almost bored from them.
He looked down and surrounding him, and the black water had a reddish tint to it, staining his open and cut shirt as he tried to stay awake even when he knew he wasn't tried in that way. 
He eventually decided it was better to try and see how far possibly he could've been from land, but there was no islands nor anything but open dark water surrounding him, the sky with litters of stars pouring in in his sight. 
He blinked slowly, just staring up into the night sky with no thoughts coming to mind than to just make it out alive. Julian was desperately floating, his head pounding with an unknown headache that was appearing. He blamed it on the rum that night before the attack.
His head bobbing up and down in the water, as he thought maybe it was better to see whether he should let go. He was leagues away from land, with possible injuries that could get infected without proper treatment. He smiled a pained smile, chuckling at how worthless he felt in this moment. 
Pasha... I'm sorry. He succumbed, his head falling beneath the waves as he sunk and sunk and sunk.
He waited for his death, blinking with red eyes in the water as he thought of how his sister would find out of the news, her reaction and whether she would mourn like how he would believe or not she would for him.
Movement caught him to turn, through the shadowy and onyx abyss, something silver flashed in his peripheral vision. So sharks did exist, excellent. He would've laughed at that moment as he was finding it harder and harder to breathe. Be gentle to me, and don't ruin my face to recognition, so they can at least bury me in a marked grave.
He shut his eye, blinking in and out of consciousness, and that night, Julian Devorak thought he had died. What awaited him in a dream-like euphoric state was a hangman that awaited with a noose in its grip. 
"Traitor, murderer, and you call yourself a doctor. You practise and play roulette with other's lives instead of helping them."
He was swallowed into death's gullet, ravens and crows with humanoid features awaiting him, like the clawed and scratched at his flesh, screaming for him to die. "Awaits your truth worthy doctor. A special place in Hell for you."
He was burned, cut apart and eaten limb by limb as he watched, but he thought of it all as a worthy punishment. All for the crimes and tests that he failed in succeeding. All those lives, men who deserved a better chance at surviving. He was given chance after chance to help someone, and only did he get one out of a thousand casualties that lived.
When he had awoken, he wasn't in some seventh Hell, nor some version of it as punishment. He wasn't even in the sea anyone, drowning slowly as he waited to be feasted on by sharks. 
He had awoken to a blinding light in his eye, causing him to grow in confusion and pain; a headache worse than any of the hangovers he had experienced before. He adjusted to the pain, questions tumbling through his head to make him question how the hell he ended up out of the water and was not in fact dead.
Was this some afterlife or reality he knew of already? He couldn't decide, even when everything he touched felt so real. There was warm sand beneath him, burning his flesh pink and stinging his back, almost forgetting about the wound that seemed so real. 
There was pain everywhere in his body, and when he stretched to prop himself up, he found himself surrounded by a white beach, water and tropic trees surrounding in the middle.
He had found himself onto an island, but wait? It had seemed that he was miles out from land, and unless he was loopy from blood loss or he had managed to swim unconscious, there was no believing he had managed to do this whilst badly injured.
They won't believe this story when I tell them this in pubs. He groaned silently, the clear blue water stretched and never-ending, nothing there for him to see. If I manage to make it back.
Standing up took longer than he expected, his legs were congealed like jelly, replacing his bones with paper as he crashed into the sand below on his first step. His entire body feels like it was on fire; drenched in flames that he couldn't get out from. 
Tired grunts and moans came the back of Julian's throat, a moment to press his hand to the wound on his back. From the feel of it, it didn't seem too deep, but it was longer than he expected, managing to get him from all the way around just to the beginning of the band of his trousers.
When he pulled his hand back, his fingers were slick with fresh blood.
I've survived sieges and attacks, seen more dead than those alive. I've lived with pirates who threatened me with my own life and head. He told himself. A little blood will not kill me. 
But he had to begin healing said wound, or else it could worsen and bring his health to something more life-threatening. Staggering halfway as best as he could on his feet then crawling, Julian dragged himself through the sand towards the edge of the water, clear and cold it felt as if it was cleansing his soul.
Step by step, he took it slow, knowing already of the even further pain he would feel once the water got to waist depth. But he thought of the outcome if he didn't as he lowered himself as the saltwater met the wound.
No amount of pain could amount to what he was experiencing, and now he understood what his patients felt when they were in pain. He barked out a laugh, airy as he hissed through his teeth. 
For some reason, the pain made him think to Asra; the magician he knew from the years working in medicine before going off to explore. He would call me some sadistic bastard for liking the pain so much. He huffed, trying to shake his head away from the thought.
A splash came from behind him, as Julian wadded through the water to turn, looking outward towards the deep end. The water grew murkier from what he could see, and he didn't know what was possible out there watching. 
Another splash came, and he squinted, a flash of clear silver slithered like a snake through the abyss of the water, not even that far from him.
He never got out of the sea as quick as that ever before. 
For his wound, he tried to find simple things, for there were no balms to put into the wounds, but the saltwater had helped in cleaning it out thoroughly. He ended up gathering wet seaweed and wrapping it heavily around his entire waist.
By the time Julian walked back to the shore, his clothes were soaked, heavy and clung to him and the sun was setting low on the horizon. He would have to make a fire quickly before he caught a chill. 
Looking for sticks and materials to start a fire was harder than he realised, and he rethought his career ideas in becoming a survivalist rather than a doctor. Stripping out of his cold clothes, he set up camp not too far from the water, starved from food and lack of water, he sat by the fire, rethinking his choices.
He would think there would be barely a few ships that would be passing through, but he could only hope there would be another spice ship that could pick him up and take him somewhere. And anywhere for it didn't matter where he went.
The cold had settled into his bone, a primal hunger for food had made him think he was going to begin to lose his mind, so he decided to try and calm himself, thinking of a nice cup of black coffee and a plate lobster claws.... hmmm. How his stomach rumbled for that luxury.
He laid outstretched like he had gotten shot, lying on his side as he stared idly into the dying flames. The same sound of something popping its head out of breaching the water came from not too far from him, making him shoot up more abruptly when he remembered the pain in his back. 
A gurgle came from the water plopping and swishing, and he caught the same coloured silver fish's (?) tail turning over in the shallow sand bed to return to the depths of the water. It could've been a shark for all he knew, circling for him and waiting.
Whatever that thing was, it looked big, and Julian's mouth watered at the thought of eating a large silver shark or swordfish to feast on. Next time, you'll get it, and you'll regret dealing with Julian Devorak. He promised himself.
He went to sleep that evening sprawled on his side, blinking in and out of sleep as he finally came to stare out just into the shore, before he heavily shut his eye, missing the creature's head bob up and dive back out of sight, its tail silver and long, flickering out and disappearing.
-
Hope you liked this new project. I only just got really into The Arcana game on apps and I LOVE IT so much! Especially Julian. 
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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years
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Dragged From The Depths (2)
Summary: The crew go out searching for mers, but is it really a case of finding mers or mers finding them? 
(Check my reblog for links to previous parts and the taglist!)
“This is my worst nightmare.” Remy scowled, looking displeased as he slumped over the side of the boat, wearing a sailor’s cap of all things. It was, naturally, the designated cap of shame aboard the S.S. Two-Faced.
“I told you that you shouldn’t be late.” Thomas shrugged, looking unsympathetic.
“It was one minute.” Remy argued. “What, like I was going to get on this atrocity without my morning Starbucks?”
“I did.” Thomas informed him.
“Your loss.” Remy raised his drink to his lips, sucking on the straw.
The sky seemed to share Remy’s mood. It was horribly overcast, casting everything in a dull grey and making it nearly impossible to make out anything in the water as far as the eye could see.
“Do you think it’s gonna rain again?” Thomas asked, turning to face the captain.
“I would if I were an imbecile.” Deceit answered, sunglasses on and not caring to look away from his position at the helm.
“That’s a no, babe.” Remy leaned over to mock whisper.
“Storm yesterday was too strong.” Deceit explained. “It won’t rain again until at least this afternoon because the clouds are too low on moisture.”
“Yeah, that sounds wrong but I don’t know enough about clouds to dispute it.” Thomas called over the roar of the engine.
“Keep your eyes peeled.” Deceit instructed, ignoring Thomas’ comment. “We’re nearing the spot we found the first one.” After his own statement, Deceit cut the engine, wanting to stop and look around.
“I call starboard.” Thomas said, heading to that side of the ship.
“I call...the other side.” Remy shrugged, staying put on his side of the boat.
“There’s something to the Northeast.” Deceit pointed. “I see a rippling in the waves.”
“Uh...looks like a pod of whales, maybe?” Thomas guessed, recognizing the familiar pattern of one of the large creature’s humps. Deceit looked disappointed, turning away. Thomas did as well. It was only Remy who continued to watch them, frowning as the shapes got closer.
“...those are some pretty big whales.” Remy raised an eyebrow. He was not a certified marine biologist by any stretch of the imagination, but something about the size of those things set warning bells off in his head.
“A whale shark, then?” Thomas suggested. Indeed, upon a second look, it was clear the creatures were massive. Thomas let out a low whistle. “Dang, you weren’t kidding.”
“Why are they all together, though?” Deceit frowned, the three of them congregating towards the front of the boat to try and get a closer look. “Whale sharks are solitary creatures.”
“Uh, I don’t think that one’s a whale shark.” Thomas pointed. “Are they ever red like that?”
“Red like what?” Deceit squinted, trying to make out what Thomas had seen, but the creature seemed to have ducked beneath the waves. Only the large blue crest of a whale shark’s tail was visible, and then that disappeared too.
“Am I the only one concerned that a bunch of sharks are coming right for us?” Remy took a few steps back from the railing, not liking the way he couldn’t see the rippling anymore. With all the clouds, it was impossible to tell where the sharks had gone once they dove underwater.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be concerned.” Thomas assured him. “Whale sharks are harmless.”
BAM!
All three of them let out a variety of their chosen curse words as the boat was violently knocked from below, throwing them off their feet.
“Then what the hell was that?” Remy exclaimed, stumbling back up.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The waters began to get positively frothy as waves splashed over the side of the boat, a side effect of the unknown force ramming repeatedly into the hull. It felt like two of the sharks were playing ping pong with the vessel as it was knocked from side to side, threatening to capsize as it tilted just a little too far.
“Brace yourselves!” Deceit warned, trying desperately to make it back up to the captain's quarters without being thrown off.
“What do you think I’m doing?!” Remy screeched, clinging to the mast for all he was worth. Even his drink had been abandoned, sliding off the edge a moment later. He was drenched from head to toe, resembling a drowned rat. Another wave came over the side, causing him to sputter madly as he accidentally inhaled some sea water. The only good part of all this was that somewhere in the first few waves that atrocious hat had gone missing.
“Curses upon curses, the motor won’t start!” Deceit yelled, pressing the button repeatedly and getting only a series of sputters.
The humans cringed, an unholy shrieking joining in the cacophony of noise surrounding them. An ominous shape began to emerge near the helm of the ship, and Deceit eyes widened as his gaze continued to travel up, up, up, farther than a whale should ever breech. For now it was clear to see this was no whale shark- or at least, not in the ordinary sense. Because towering over them was a massive, humanoid figure, akin to the one currently awaiting them back at the lab.
“Wait a second-” Remy’s mouth dropped in realization. “Ours is a baby?”
The giant let out another screech, tearing into the deck of the ship and leaving long claw marks in the wood. Deceit paled, looking up into a golden gaze so full of determination and raw power. When it snarled, its teeth were sharp like a true carnivores, looking ready to tear apart their flesh the second they got within range.
“Abandon ship!” Deceit commanded, feeling the ship begin to tilt as the creature continued to attack it.
“You want to go into the shark infested waters?” Remy scoffed, watching Deceit run down the stairs. “Are you insane?”
“Doesn’t look like we have much choice in the mater.” Deceit argued, grasping onto a nearby rail as the boat nearly went horizontal. “I vote I die on my terms.”
“I vote we don’t die!” Remy countered.
“For once in your life, do something useful instead of making snide comments behind your lattes!” Deceit ordered, bending down near the side of the haul where the lifeboat waited. “Help me untie this.”
Both of them felt a strange shift in gravity, the giant releasing his grip on the boat and sinking briefly into the waves. A moment later there was a loud whoosh, and the creature propelled itself up out of the water. Deceit stared in awe, gaping at the shark as it jumped right over the ship in all its gigantic glory. The tail end had one much longer, sharper fin, that seemed to reel back while it was in the air.
“Get down!” Deceit instructed. Not a moment later, the appendange came crashing onto the hull, sending the vessel up on a 90 degree angle. Remy found himself briefly dangling above the open waters, heart pounding as he glanced down to see a smaller shark fin eagerly circling below him.
“OhmygoshOhmygosh-” Remy cringed, strengthening his grip on the sopping wet wood. From the depths a massive blue shadow seemed to shift beneath the waves, and Remy let out another shriek as the boat was tipped back over.
With a burst of adrenaline Remy rushed over to Deceit’s side, frantically undoing the slippery knots. The lifeboat came undone, and the two began to get ready to lug it over the side. Deceit glanced into the waters, watching as the red shark circled around for a better vantage point. The captain braced himself for another attack, but it just kept circling and circling, never breeching again. In fact, it seemed to have stopped its assault on the vessel entirely.
“Wait, where’d the others go?” Deceit paused in his work, glancing deeper.
“Don’t say that like it’s a disappointment!” Remy hissed. “More sharks does not equal more fun. It equals more death. I should know, I completed calculus, hun.”
“...he’s leaving.” Deceit said in realization. He stood up, rushing over to the edge to confirm. In the distance the burgundy tail could be seen flipping up, sending one last passive aggressive splash in their direction. “That son of a gun is leaving.”
“Wait, really?” Remy pushed his sopping wet hair out of his face, giving a half crazed laugh of relief. “Oh my god, thank the heavens! I almost really thought I was a goner!” He stuck his middle finger up at the sky. “YOU’LL HAVE TO TRY HARDER TO GET ME, SUCKA! Aaaaaaugh oh I never, ever want to do that again. You are never dragging me on another expedition, you hear me old man? From now on, Thomas is your one and only guinea pig.”
Deceit glanced around the boat, a feeling of unease beginning to soak him to the bone more than the waves had done just moments ago. “...hold on, where is Thomas?”
Remy looked around, paling as he realized the exact same thing.
“...shit.”
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hnrywinchester · 5 years
Text
Fare Thee Well - - 16
Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.
Pairing: Gabriel x OFC
Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, Character Deaths, Canon Compliant
Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse
Words: 4.3k
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Time was standing still. Liv and Rowena sat in the library of the bunker, and the silence was unsettling as Lucifer sneered at them, his eyes traveling between the two of them. Liv was one step away from despondent. She’d just sent the love of her life off on some suicide mission into a world she’d never be able to get to if anything happened to him. She’d spend the rest of her life trying, that was for sure, but deep down she knew she’d never get there. It was hard to consider that that could have been the last time he kissed her, or smirked at her or made some crude, sexual joke. He very well could have just told her he loved her for the last time. Now seemed like the time she should be committing him to memory, the sound of his voice, the golden flecks in his eyes and the way his fingertips danced so gently across her body despite being powerful enough to destroy entire civilizations at will. Those were all things she was going to want to remember, needed to remember. She mentally kicked herself for not snapping a single photo of him before he left, her phone had a damn camera on it but the thought of preserving that shit-eating grin forever hadn’t passed through her head until now. “Sidelined eh ladies?” Lucifer mocked, rage burning at Liv’s cheeks at the sound of his voice, “Kinda… misogynistic no? Leaving the women behind in the kitchen while the men go off and fight for glory.” Liv rolled her eyes, at this point she wasn’t sure which fate was worse, death or being stuck with Lucifer for an extended amount of time. Maybe it was one in the same. “I’m disappointed in you,” he continued, turning his attention onto Liv, “I didn’t take you as the type to let your boyfriend order you around. Thought you had more stones than that.” “Do you ever shut up?” Liv snapped, kicking a chair in his direction. With a shrug and a smug smirk at her failed attempt at hitting him, Lucifer laughed, “Typical Gabe, tryin’ to be the hero. Know how many times that’s worked? Zero. Kid can’t even save his own ass never mind anyone else’s.” “Maybe I wanted to stay behind. Marvel in the sight of you all tied up and useless, bleeding out like a pig on a spit.” “Oh, feisty. He always did like the lively ones. Honestly though, now that we’re here, I’m glad it happened like this. I think we need to get to know each other better. I mean we are family now, right? I have to make sure you’re apt to be around my son-“ “We are not family. Not now, not ever.” The thought sent a wave of nausea into her stomach. She found herself fantasizing about Gabriel finishing him off once and for all while simultaneously wishing he’d been able to do it when he had the chance earlier that morning. “What? You’re my brother’s wifey now, that makes us, what do they call it?” Lucifer droned on, his nose wrinkling up in confusion, “In-laws?” “Absolutely not,” she seethed, teeth gritted. “Accept it sis, you’ll see me at Christmas dinners from here on out.” “Not a wifey, one.” “Ah, but you will be! In whatever sense you two figure out. Don’t think I can’t see into that conflicted, melodramatic head of yours. You’re better than that. I see Gabe’s little lovesick eyes looking down at you when he said he’s gonna marry you.” Lucifer feigned a gag, and Liv fought back the urge to lunge at him, plunge the angel blade tucked into her jacket through his sunken in chest a few times. Like she needed the reminder of that little snippet right now. At the time she’d laughed it off, he was ridiculous and lame and corny, but now she saw an allure to it. Maybe it was just the thought that this eons old bachelor, the party boy, the pornstar for fucks sake, had even considered completely and irrevocably devoting himself to her that had her swooning, but if he really did ask she knew what her answer would be. You’re fucking insufferable,” she groaned, not wanting to egg him on further. “Whoa, geez. Okay dude… that hurts,” Lucifer whined, his face overacting offense. “This is how I die, isn’t it? Annoyed to death by Satan himself.” “What a way to go.” Moments ago she missed Gabriel, but now she was cursing his existence. What was he thinking leaving her here with this pompous asshole? It’s like he didn’t even know her at all. He should have been well aware that being stuck for hours, days on end with Lucifer was going to end badly. One of them was going to end up marred, beaten or dead. Rowena not ending up in the crossfires was her goal at this point. “I need a drink,” Liv stated, turning her attention to the witch watching on to the soap opera with a perturbed gaze, “Do you want a drink?” “Yes. Please,” Rowena groaned in agreement, throwing her head down onto the table. “What you want?” “I don’t care, whatever they’ve got will do just fine.” Spotting the liquor cabinet, Liv ran from the two pairs of prying eyes. Once she was out of sight, her breath huffed out in relief. Everything was spiraling out of control faster than she could reel it back in. Self-destruct mode was very much activated and no matter how many alarms were going off in her head she just couldn’t switch it off. She wanted Gabriel. It wasn’t some inherent need that she’d waste away without, it was purely an insatiable craving her soul was pleading for. It begged for his arms and his safety and how he’d know exactly what to say right now to make this whole unbearable situation completely tolerable. She wanted his lips and his wandering hands and that soft look he got in his eyes when she did something completely ridiculous, that look that screamed ‘you’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on’. Maybe it came down to solely just wanting to feel… wanted. She’d wandered aimlessly her entire life, not quite finding her niche, until that honey-haired Trickster came around and showed her what it felt like to be loved. Grabbing the first three bottles she could find, Liv headed back into the library and was shocked to find Lucifer silent. Assuming he was just planning his next verbal war with her, Liv placed the three bottles down in front of Rowena and resumed her seat back at the table, propping her feet up onto the table. “Dealer’s choice,” Liv sighed, throwing her head back in exasperation. “You got old, Liv,” Lucifer taunted, causing her to groan at the unbearableness of this situation, “Like, really old. What’s it been like nine years? Red over here looks better than you and she’d got a couple hundo’ on you.” “Jesus Christ,” Liv mumbled under her breath, downing the entire glass Rowena had passed to her. Whiskey. Thank God. Before the tumbler had even hit the table she was already sending it back towards the witch for a refill. “I mean, gray hairs, wrinkles, I can’t even imagine the scars. It’s not a good look,” Lucifer continued with that nasally tone of his, “I’m shocked he didn’t run right past you when he saw you. You’ve seen some of his former conquests, right? Never knew how he did it… but wow. And then there’s you.” “Well Lucy,” Liv began, licking the burn of the whiskey off her lips as the devil grimaced at her nickname, “I’ve heard you’re quite the looker yourself these days. I mean, this vessel is cringe-worthy enough, can’t imagine what’s underneath is much better.” “You don’t want to know,” Rowena cautioned, smiling as she side-eyed Lucifer. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Liv was really starting to like Rowena. She now saw why the Winchesters had yet to put a bullet in her brain. “You two are awfully chummy,” Lucifer noticed warily, “I don’t like it.” “Go on then, keep insulting us poor wee women. Anything to distract yourself from your profound, deeply emasculating humiliation,” Rowena tacked on, the smugness in her voice sending a little swell of pride to Liv’s heart. What neither of the women in the room saw, however, was the bindings holding their captive in place flickering as their self-satisfied giggles echoed across the cement walls. They didn’t know what he did. Enough rage, enough anger and he didn’t need grace to break this pathetic spell-work. One of them would crack. He’d been working on Liv but she was shockingly holding her own against him, maybe it was time to move onto good old Red. When he burst into song, digging through his archives to find the most obnoxious one he knew, their synchronized groan only egged him on further. Just a few more hours, and they’d both be goners. This world was a nightmare. There was no other word for it. As Gabriel marched on, leading the way for himself, Castiel and the Winchesters, he couldn’t help but feel displaced. The rain pelted against his leather jacket, his golden blade dripping as he thanked the universe for keeping Liv at home. This whole place gave him the creeps, and that didn’t happen very often, if ever. The ever-present darkness and gloom had him glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, the silence eerie enough to set his instincts on high. So this is what the world would have been like if the Apocalypse had happened. This may be the only instance where he was happy people didn’t listen to him. He’d been rooting for this for a little while there. Castiel stayed in step with his older brother, staying silent as Liv’s words echoed in his head. Dead or alive. He knew that she wouldn’t survive losing him again, getting Gabriel out alive had to be a top priority. “What’d she say to you?” Gabriel asked from beside him, almost as if he was reading his mind, “Before we left.” “She… she asked me to bring you back, “Castiel confessed, “Dead or alive.” Gabriel’s chest constricted at Castiel’s disclosure. She was under no illusions, and he knew that, hell he’d probably helped that train of thought along with his little final goodbye monologue he’d given her before taking off. Yet hearing that she’d pleaded for his dead body to be returned twisted his stomach. He pictured her face at the sight of Castiel carrying his limp, bloodied form back into the library, the wretched, soul shattering scream that would erupt from her chest echoed in his head. The ghost of her fingers trailing across his face traced over his skin, he could feel her memorizing his features, the ones he always thought so lowly of being some of her favorites. She’d kiss the round tip of his nose, run her thumb along his bottom lip that sat just a little too deep under his upper one as she’d plead in her head to see his eyes one last time. The thought of her losing him was almost as unbearable as him losing her. “Gabriel I… I need to ask something of you,” Castiel asked nervously, snapping Gabriel out of his turbulent thoughts, “Please just, hear me out.” “Okay…” Gabriel dragged on, eyebrows furrowing. “Heaven is dying. There are only a handful of angels left in all of existence. We need you help-“ “You already know the answer to this Cas. I’m not leaving her again. Plus, heaven doesn’t want me back. As far as they’re concerned I’m a screw up. Hell, as far as I’m concerned I’m a screw up.” “Well, heavens been run into the ground by upstanding angels. Perhaps a screw up is just the change we need.” “I can’t.” “If heaven dies, Gabriel, the consequences will be monumental. Millions of souls will come crashing down to Earth, vengeful and displaced. Whatever semblance of peace you’re considering would be lost. She’d be called back to war and die fighting, just like the rest of us. Except you.” “She isn’t dying.” “One day she will, and then what? Where will she go if heaven is obsolete?” This was not the place or time to be talking about this. Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he subdued the reflex to hurl Castiel against the nearest tree by the lapels of that ridiculous jacket he wore for thinking now was a good time to bring up Liv dying. He knew she was going to die one day, she was human after all. What he hadn’t planned on was all of his brothers being taken out, leaving him with no one to do the deed for him. No heaven to go to? So what, she was just going to walk around in the veil until someone burned her bones? He’d be damned before anyone took a lighter to her. There was another way to fix this all, there had to be. What did heaven expect him to do? Run the joint? “Stop. Just, stop! I can’t talk about this right now. I can’t run heaven, Cas. I can’t. You need some grace to fill the tank with, take it. Take all of it for all I care. But I’m not my father. Never was, never will be. Find someone else,” Gabriel panicked, his voice frantic. “There is no one else!” Castiel implored, his desperation growing. Castiel knew it was hopeless. He wasn’t going to leave her behind. Granted, he knew it was a slim chance to begin with but nothing Castiel had said had been untrue. If heaven fell, the world would burn. He glanced behind him, watching as Sam and Dean were deep in conversation as they followed. If heaven fell, Dean would be in danger too. This was an impossible situation, but what obstacle that stood in their way wasn’t? A scream in the distance gained the attention of all four men, all sharing a glance as they formed a small circle. “Not our world, not our problem, right?” Gabriel shrugged, hoping that these idiots didn’t want to play savior to everyone. The singing had yet to cease. It’d been hours. Liv had her head pressed into the cold wood of the table, the decanter of whiskey practically drained in her right hand. She’d given up on glasses a few hours ago. Her head was swimming, the usually delightful buzz from this much booze couldn’t even settle with the American Idol Reject bellowing on and on and on. Such a waste of really good whiskey she was sure Dean was going to be livid she cleaned house of. “Just kill me now!” she cried, theatrically throwing her head back. “That can be arranged!” Lucifer chimed, breaking from his tune just long enough to get the words out. “I need a break.” As she walked from the room, the singing ceased. Figures. How Rowena was keeping her cool through that atrocity was beyond her. If she had some way of making magical ear plugs and wasn’t sharing there was going to be hell to pay, that was certain. She meandered her way to the washroom, exhaustion from hours of boredom and anxiety finally kicking in during these moments of peace. As she waited for the water to warm up, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She had gotten old. She’d never really paid any mind to it before, but after hearing Lucifer dissect each and every one of her flaws they were glowing like beacons now. Maybe it was high time to get a box of dye from the pharmacy, she thought, as she realized those single grays in her temples were colonizing now. Gabriel hadn’t seemed to mind any of it, but, she really was no where near the level she knew he was used to. Back in the day, when they’d first met, she’d never considered herself a looker but she saw none of that girl in the reflection staring back at her now. It was truly a wonder Gabriel had even recognized her at all. Her eyes continued to inspect herself and when they drifted to her neck she noticed one of Gabriel’s careless marks he’d left along her throat. No doubt it was from their anger-fueled romp in the back of her car just that morning, they’d certainly thrown all caution to the wind and the evidence was staring her in the face. She ran her fingers over the welt, her chest tightening as her mind focused; the panic she’d been harboring reared its ugly head again. Gabriel. The archangel. The Trickster. The man who could fuck her in a rest stop bathroom and still make her feel like a queen, who loved her, above all other things, gray hairs or not. The man who would die for her, that would sit in hell for close to a decade in hopes of keeping her safe. The man she’d let wander off into an unknown world, prepared to die if he needed to, alone. The man that she loved, with every fiber and cell of her being. It was too late now, even if she tried she’d never find him over there. She was stuck here, in limbo, not knowing if she’d ever see him again. The steam from the running faucet had fogged the mirror she’d been staring into before her thoughts wandered. She shook herself from her wallowing, wiping the condensation from the glass, her worn-down reflection coming into sight once again. Knowing it was time to return, she shut the faucet off, not even bothering to splash her face down as she’d intended, before turning and heading back to the library. Her stomach was growling, but preparing food seemed tedious, there were bigger issues to be concerned with right now. The closer she got, the more she swore she heard… shouting. She ran, skidding into the library to find Rowena screaming at Lucifer, a handful of his hair locked between her fingers and the ropes of magic restraining him beginning to flicker. Whatever was happening was about to release the devil on them both. “Rowena! Stop!” Liv warned, but it was too late. The cords snapped and Liv watched in horror as Lucifer rose to his feet, grabbing the witch by her throat as his eyes blazed red. She was frozen in fear. This whole time she’d been worried about Gabriel dying, she’d never once considered that it might be her kicking the bucket. “Ah, Red. You shouldn’t have made me mad. Step into my office. Livvy, be with you in just a sec,” he sneered, his words barely audible over the sounds of Rowena’s gasps and chokes. In a flash the two were suddenly against the wall, the thud echoing through the room. Liv knew she needed to act, and quick, but she saw no real option. She had no weapon handy, she knew no magic, she was stuck. Instincts kicked in however, and she ran towards the devil, willing to do whatever it took to get his hands from Rowena’s throat and hopefully give her enough time to do whatever it was that she could. “You know… you and Gabe, you kicked me when I was down. I didn’t have any fight. I didn’t have anything to live for. But you… you… you gave me something to fight for again. My boy. So for that, I’m going to be quick-“ Lucifer droned on, Liv’s hands grabbing his shoulder stopping him short. “Defendatur!” Rowena called, effectively forcing Lucifer away from her. What Rowena didn’t know, was the passenger he’d taken with him. “Sammy!” Dean cried, following Castiel down the dark passage after his brother. Gabriel ran after them, but stopped short as he came beside the small human girl they’d picked up just hours before, his heart stopping. When he looked at her, he didn’t see the wayward survivor, all he saw was Liv. His brain begin firing off images and horrors, his head twitching as he fought to keep them at bay. He saw her bloody and lifeless on that warehouse floor, he heard her calling to him just as Sam had for his brother, her voice filled with fear. Gabriel! He watched as her lifeless body was dragged down that corridor, the monster’s hissing and snarls ricocheting off the walls. She’s not here. She’s not here. She’s not here.  He whispered the words under his breath like a mantra, doing his best to control the terror icing his veins as he watched Castiel return empty handed. Sam was gone. Liv would have been gone. He would have failed. When he saw Dean’s face, he felt that sorrow deep in his own heart, and selfishly a small hint of gratitude that it wasn’t he who had lost everything. He needed to get home. No more lost orphans, no more side missions, he needed to see her, feel her, again. “Dean, we should go,” Gabriel reasoned, knowing Castiel would never be able to take charge over this situation, “we can’t stay here or you’re all toast.” Dean glared at the angel, rage and despair mixed into his eyes, “Bet you feel real good about yourself right now, don’t you?” Gabriel looked at him confused, “What?” “Why can’t you save him!? If it was her you’d be barreling down that fucking…” Gabriel’s face fell in shame as Dean’s words caught in his throat. Even if he tried, he knew he didn’t have the juice. “Yeah I would, doesn’t mean I could fix anything,” Gabriel began, keeping his voice level, “I can’t, Dean. I didn’t even have enough for the spell, what makes you think I can raise the dead?” Defeat fell across Dean’s face as he grabbed Castiel by the shoulders, shoving him out of the way as he lunged at Gabriel. The archangel let himself be tackled by the hunter, their bodies tumbling to the dirt as Dean grabbed two handfuls of his jacket. Gabriel took it, knowing exactly how Dean felt, not like he could hurt him anyway. When a fist connected with his jaw, Gabriel could barely feel a sting, but as Dean’s hand came back down Gabriel stopped it with an outstretched palm. “What is this helping?” Gabriel yelled, “I’m sorry, Dean! But if we don’t keep moving, we’re gonna lose more than Sam and… whatever his name was.” Castiel came behind them, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder both in comfort and warning that if he continued, his brother was not going to stay this complacent for long. With a snap of his arm, Dean pulled his fist from the angel’s grasp and stood, adjusting his backpack and jacket, before silently taking off down the passage alone. Castiel held a hand out for Gabriel, helping him back to his feet before running after the reckless hunter before he got himself killed. Gabriel then looked at the poor human that was stuck in the middle of all of this now, her face was dripping with fear. “Come on, we gotta go,” Gabriel instructed softly, clapping his hand on her shoulder once. “Who is she?” Maggie asked, slowly letting one foot fall in front of the other as they started down the cave, “the woman, that you would save?” “Uh… she isn’t here. She’s back at home.” “She’s human?” “Yeah, she is.” “And you… you love her?” Gabriel nodded, wondering why she was asking these questions, but as he looked down at her face he saw the confusion and the wonder. She’d been living in a world where angels hunted and murdered humans, something like him was unheard of. They walked in silence from there on, catching up to Dean and Castiel once they’d come out unscathed from the tunnel. Gabriel’s thoughts again traveled to the thought of it being her left behind in that wasteland. He swore he could still hear her calling out to him, the sound fuzzy and staticky, like it was coming through on a bad signal. This world was strange, and he needed out. Her cheek was firmly planted into the wet ground, the rain cold on her skin, a twig poking right at the corner of her eye as she came to. She was on her stomach, laying on the ground outside. That made no sense, she was just in the bunker… As she pushed herself up and opened her eyes her heart damn near stopped. She wasn’t in Kansas anymore. This world was void of color, barren and desolate. About thirty feet away she could see the rift, shining brighter than even the sun was, and she took off running towards it. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that she’d never make it out of here alive stuck to her own devices. She was weaponless, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she’d freeze to death if some murderous angel or monster didn’t find her first. So focused on her destination, she was oblivious to the fact she hadn’t come over alone. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm, effectively stopping her from crossing back through to the bunker and her stomach dropped. “Oh no no, you’re with me,” Lucifer sneered, “partner.” “Not a chance,” she spat in response, pulling on her arm in his grip. “Uh, you don’t have a choice. Like it or not sis, we’re in this together now.” With a sharp pull, Lucifer dragged her along beside him, and she knew there was no escape. Gabe… Gabriel…. GABE! She called and called but no answer came. Surely he wasn’t dead already, right?
TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons
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uas-art · 6 years
Text
Title: Fins and Sea Shells
Rating: T Summary: When Deckhand Butters is pulled off his ship during a storm, he's sure he's a goner. Until a strange creature comes and rescues him. Ships: Bunny Other: Does this count as #MerMay???? XD ~~~~ He hadn't meant to fall off! Honest! He was just heading up to run a message to the captain when a wave came crashing over the side of the ship and pulled him off. Not that that mattered anyway. For he, Leopold 'Butters' Stotch, deckhand of Captain Hookhands' vessel, The Great Booty, age 17, was going to die. Butters clung to the piece of driftwood he'd bumped into during the storm. The sun beat down on him. His stomach growled in hunger. He tried to wet his chapped lips, but his mouth was too dry. He laughed bitterly. Water all around, but all too salty to drink. Butters scanned the horizon, hoping to see a ship, or land, or anything beside the vast blue ocean he had seen for the last three days, but alas, there was nothing. He rested his head against the wet wood, trying to hold back tears. He was really going to die out here. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. He'd ran away from home to the sea for freedom, for adventure! What did he get? Thrown off his ship and death. Butters could almost hear his father's voice in his head berating him. "Dad was right. I ain't no swashbuckling hero." Butters squeezed his eyes shut. He should just let go of this log and let the sea take him. That's why the sea pulled him off his ship, right? Why make his cruel blue mistress wait any longer? With a breath, Butters let go of the drift wood and floated back into the sea.
He laid on his back awhile, staring up into the sky, trying to make shapes out of the clouds. A few times, he shut his eyes and imagined he was back on land in a field of grass instead, but soon enough a stubborn wave would wash over him and shake him from his fantasy. Night fell and Butters knew his end would be soon. He was so sleepy, so tired, hungry, and thirsty, but at least he could find comfort in knowing it would all be over soon. As the stars began to fleck the darken sky, Butters closed his eyes one last time. This was it. His days were over. It had been an alright life, at least. Sure, his time with his parents could have been better, but at least his time on The Great Booty was fun! Oh, he'd miss his friends and crewmates a whole bunch. He wondered if they'd have a funeral for him. If they go fish out the Captain's old worn Bible and read some verses, sing some hymns that none of them could really remember fully. If they did all that, Butters decided maybe a death at sea wouldn't be so bad. At least he would have a fun adventure to tell everyone in Heaven. Suddenly, something bumped his side, and a voice said, "Hey, are you alive?" Butters opened his eyes. He turned his head, careful to stay afloat on his back, looking for the source of the sound. When he didn't find it, he turned back towards the sky. "W-who's that? Is this the voice of the sea?" Butters frowned. "Look, Missum Ocean, I'm dying as fast as I can for ya! Really, I am! I just didn't realize it would take so long." "I'm not a 'missum'." The voice laughed. Butters felt something prod him in the side again. This time when he turned to look, he found himself looking face to face with something in the dimming light. Butters gasped, splashing off his back. He floated with his neck just above the water, kicking frantically. He was tired, but seeing that face shocked just enough adrenaline through his body to keep him upright for the moment. The thing staring at Butters was larger than him, but it didn't look any than older. In fact, if not for the size, fins where its ears should be and the shimmery scales along its cheeks, the creature would have a fine human face. It moved closer to Butters, and Butters tried to move away, but the adrenaline rush was fading fast. He opened his mouth to shout, but instead, his stomach protested. Butters groaned. His energy had been depleted, and he felt himself starting to sink. Well, either this monster would get him or the sea would. At this point, Butters really didn't care. Something long and slimy wrapped around his legs. Instead of dragging him down like he thought they would, they held him aloft. The monster moved closer. It ran a webbed hand along Butter's sunburnt cheeks. "I'm going to take you somewhere, alright? Don't fight me, please. I promise not to hurt you." It gently said, and Butters nodded numbly. More of those slimy things wrapped around him and Butters felt himself pulled closer to the monster. It enveloped an arm around Butters, holding him to its chest. Butters let his head droop down, listening to the sound of this strange creatures heartbeat. He hoped the sea wasn't too upset that he hadn't died yet. Maybe she sent this creature here to move him to a different place to die. Why, that was probably it! If Butters were the sea, he wouldn't want some corpse floating in the middle of his perfect blue, stinking up the place! He'd want it somewhere off in a corner where no one could see it. Cool water splashed against Butters' face, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked down at the arm holding him. Spined fins stretched from the creature's elbow to its shoulder. Under the glow of the moon light, Butter could just make out scars all along the creature's arm. When he turned to its chest, he found more scars. Some looked like bite marks, some like slashes or stabs. Butters couldn't help but wonder what foolish person or animal would even try to fight against whatever this creature was. "I think this will do." the creature rumbled. "I'm going to put you down. Don't move or you might slip off." It leaned down and carefully set Butters on to a hard, wet surface. Butters tried to push himself up, but his arms refused. He rolled his head to the side. A rock, he realized, he was on a rock. He heard the creature repeat not to move, then it was gone with a splash. After a few moments there came another splash. the creature's face appeared next to him, smiling softly. It placed its claws on Butters face. "Here. I don't care for this but I think you'll like it." The creature lifted his head up a bit before pressing something against his lips. Butters eyes shot wide as he felt cool liquid splash across his tongue. Whatever it was, it tasted like water, but  sweeter. Butters greedily drank it before leaning his head back, panting. "T-thank you." He told the creature, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "You saved me. Thank you." The creature smiled, tossing whatever it had given him over its shoulder. "Do you want another? I can go get one. Or do you want to sleep? You look really tired." Butters nodded. "Both." The creature seemed to understand and nodded back before slipping into the water again. Butters let his eyes shut. If he fell asleep before the creature brought more of that water back, it would be alright. Everything would be alright now. He was on land, or at least, he wasn't floating anymore. Maybe the sea didn't want him to die after all. Butters squeezed his eyes tight, rolling to his side. His stomach yelled at him and he finally peeked open his eyes. His body still felt weak as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked around and found himself on a flat rock. There were several other rocks around him. The rock he was on had been carved out into a little cave, either by someone's hands or by the ocean itself; Butters wasn't sure. His foot tapped against something: a small woven basket. Butters pulled the basket carefully into his lap. Left inside was some strange plant, or maybe it was a nut. Butters hand never seen before, an empty, flat, seashell, and a dead fish. The plant was green and had been broken in half. In the middle was some sort of soft white flesh. Butters picked up half of the strange thing. On the side, someone had carved a picture that looked a little like Butters, then a picture of a shell with an arrow pointing to the opening of the strange fruit. Butters took the shell from the basket, brow furrowed. He carefully scraped it against the inside of the fuirt until the shell was full of the flesh. It smelled familiar, but Butters couldn't place it. Even if he didn't know, his stomach didn't care as it whined for him to finally feed it. And feed it, Butters did. He emptied the inside of the strange fruit, both halves, then leaned back, patting his stomach. He eyed the fish in the basket. Butters picked it up by the tail. His nose wrinkled. He'd eaten raw fish before, on a dare from one of his crewmates, but then the fish had been stripped of its scales and gutted. The one in the basket looked as though it had just been caught. A webbed claw reached out and grabbed the fish around the middle. A strangled scream escaped Butters lips. He scrambled back, dropping his hold on the fish and kicking the basket away in his rush. The creature from last night looked at him quizzically as it rested its upper body against the floor of the carved out rock. Now in the daylight, Butters finally got a better look at it. It had a human face and was just as attractive as he remembered; sun kissed with a splash of freckles across its cheeks. Its hair was short and messy and the color of gold. A long, thin dorsal fin grew from its back, between its shoulder blades. Though most of its body was still in the water, Butters could see, the creature body became wholly inhuman past its hips. Instead, orange tentacles grew in the place of its legs. Between the gaps in the tentacles, something grey flashed against the light, but Butters couldn't tell what it was. He swallowed his fear down and asked, "What are you? Who are you?" The creature tilted its head. "My name is Kenny. Haven't you seen a seafolk before? You are a sailor, right?" "'Seafolk'? Like...mermaids?" Butters whispered. "You're a mermaid?"   Mermaid, the seafolk, sirens, all names for a creature that dragged men to their deaths. One of the first stories his crewmates had told him was how their Captain had nearly been lured to his own death by one of those evil sea witches and how he had to cut off his hands to escape her grasp. The creature, Kenny, it said, laughed, exposing rows of sharp teeth. "Mer, yes, maid, no. I'm no 'missum'. I'm a 'mister'." "I...the story said mermaids were only, um, fish, though, not..." Butters pointed at the tentacles, trying not to shake. The sea was just being mean now. Eaten by a mister mermaid? That wasn't the kind of story he wanted to tell when he got up to Heaven! Everyone would tease him! Kenny laughed again, shaking its--his--head. "Well, Dad was a shark. Mom was a cecaelia. Me? I'm just a mess." At that point, Kenny raised a shark tail from the water with a shrug. He lowered it with a splashed before scooting closer towards Butters with sparkly eyes. "Tell me your name, sailor. What can I call you?" He asked. "L-Leopold Stotch. That's my Christian name, but people always called me 'Butters'." "I like that name. It's fun to say. Butters." He tested the name a few times in different tones before bobbing his head. The two stayed silent before Kenny lifted the fish up towards Butters. "Here. I caught it for you." Kenny told him. "I don't know what type of fish humans like, but I think this kind tastes best." Butters swallowed the fear in his throat and asked in a shaking voice, "You...you're not fattening me up so you can eat me, are you? I don't care if you are, but, please, be honest." Kenny's mouth fell open then he shook his head quickly. "What? Fuck, no! I don't eat humans. I don't even know any seafolk who do!" Butters relaxed. He wasn't sure if Kenny was lying or not, but he chose to think that really was the truth. "Oh, that's good. I don't think I'd taste all that good anyway." He slowly reached out and took the fish back. "Um, t-thank you. Do you, do you have a knife? To get the scales off." Kenny looked at him with furrowed brows before shaking his head. "You don't like getting scales stuck in your teeth either, huh? Well, I don't have a knife, but I got this." He pressed his tongue against his teeth before he reached up and grabbed one. With a yank, he ripped the tooth from his gum, leaving a gap. Kenny dunked his tooth in the sea water a few times before holding it out to Butters. "Careful, it's sharp." He warned as he dropped it into Butters open hand. Butters cringed. There was still a bit of gum on the tooth. He tried to hide his disgust before Kenny noticed, but it was too late. Kenny frowned. "Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess that's too hard to use for you, isn't it?" "No, no. I mean, yes, but," Butter stammered, "I don't like raw fish. That other thing you brought was good, though! What was it?" He set the tooth and fish aside. "Oh, the coconut? Yeah! They fall in the water from the trees on the shore all the time! I like keeping them and taking off the outside parts until I get to the hard shell part, 'cause," Kenny move his hands over his chest, "when I break them in half, they look a little like boobies!" Butters blinked. "Boobies--no, wait, shore? There's an island around here? Are there people on it?" He felt his heart begin to race. Kenny frowned. "There is an island, but I've never seen any people on it, only in the boats that sometimes pass by, and I've lived around here for a long time." "Ah, hamburgers--oh, pardon, my language." Butters sighed. "Well, could you take me to that island anyway? I'd sure like to get somewhere I can make a fire, and try to get dry, maybe cook the fish, too." Kenny furrowed his brows, then shrugged. "I don't see why you'd do that, but alright. I'll take you there." He held out his arms. "Come on." Kenny set Butters down close enough to the shore that his feet could still touch the sand under the waves, but just barely. Pushing the memories of his near death yesterday from his mind, Butters waded to the island. When he finally left the water, he fell against the warm sand. "Are you alright?" Kenny called from the water. "Yup!" Butters shouted back. "Feels nice is all!" "Well, if you're sure. I'm going to stay out here if you need anything." Kenny paused then added. "Also, those coconuts? They come from the trees there. The ones on the trees are the kind with the water in them. They're a pain to get through." He pointed to some tree on the shore line. With a splash, Kenny disappeared under the water.
Butters laid against the sand for a few more minutes before he got up to survey the island. As he walked, his clothes finally fully dried out first time in days. He began to notice the dull pain from his sunburn, but Butters ignored that as best he could.
The island itself wasn't very big, but it wasn't that small, either. It took him the better part of the day to walk all the way around it. About halfway through his walk, Kenny popped up in the ocean. He started following him along the shore line, asking questions and pointing out things he knew about the island and its plant and animal life. Butters knew some of what he said wasn't right, but Butters didn't correct him.
When dusk began to paint the sky, Butters found himself a place near the ocean to make a fire for the night.
He took the two fish he'd been cooking off the fire with a stab of his makeshift spear. He wasn't really that happy about having to use Kenny's teeth as the spear head, but it was better than nothing. Butters blew on his meal, muttering a prayer before digging in. He hummed to himself around the flakey fish. Even without salt or pepper, it tasted like the best meal he'd ever had.
"So, is that really good?" Kenny asked. Butters nodded. He finished off his fish, tossing the bones aside, before taking the second fish and placing it on a palm leaf. He walked out into the water up to his waist. Kenny couldn't get close enough to grab the leaf with his arms, so he reached out one of his tentacles for it. He set the leaf in his hands, eyeing the fish.
"It's hot." Butters warned as Kenny went to grab it.  Kenny ate more than half the fish in one bite. He chewed carefully before swallowing.
"Not bad, I guess." He wrapped the rest of the fish back up before handing it back to Butters. "I'll stick to raw, though."
For the next couple of weeks, Butters made himself a home on the island. He built a fire pit and a little shelter. Through some trial and error, he figured out which fruits and plants he could cook and eat. Not too far into the forest, he stumbled across a small pond of fresh water. Thanks to an old, dented copper pot Kenny had brought him, Butters could always have access to clean water.
So it went on that Butters worked to make the island habitable during the mornings, then sat in the shade in the heat of the afternoon. At dusk, he'd make his fire and boil water and cook fruit he'd gathered or seafood Kenny brought. Though he didn't seem to care for it, Kenny always ate a little of whatever cooked food Butters offered him.
More often than not, on those cool evenings, Butters would sit in the water and the two of them would talk.
Kenny told him many things about Seafolk. He told him about how the only ones he saw regularly were the group that migrated through his territory every fall. He went into great, great detail about the she seafolk he'd had encounters with. He told Butters about the reefs below the surface and the fish and kept forests. He told him how if he was purely a shark like his father, he would be the fastest creature around; but his cecealia parts slowed him down. It didn't bother him much, since he liked having the extra appendages.
In return, Butters told Kenny about his life. He told him how he'd run away from home after a particularly nasty fight with his father over taking over the family business. He told him how he'd met up with a ragtag team of young men and became a deckhand on a pirate ship. Butters told stories of his crewmates and ship and about the far off lands he'd seen. He even talked about his own encounters with girls, though he was blushing much deeper than when Kenny told his own stories.
One day, maybe three weeks or a month after Butters arrived, Kenny found his friend pulling something into the water. He swam as close as he could and watched. Whatever it was, it was long, and made of logs held together vines.  Butters panted as he tried to haul it into the water.
Kenny raised a tentacle out of the water and grabbed the rope off of Butter's shoulders.
"Need some help?" He asked.
"Oh, heya there, Ken!" Butters greeted cheerfully. "I sure could."
Following the instructions Butters gave him, Kenny pulled the whatever it was into the water before diving down and fastening the vine to a rock. When he surfaced, he gave Butters a thumbs up. Butters excitedly ran back to the shore, then along the structure to the end.
He threw out his arms. "Whaddya think?"
"What is it?" Kenny asked, swimming around it.
"It's a dock, silly." Butter sat down. "Now I can walk out to see ya and keep dry."
Kenny carefully rested his forearms on the dock. It sunk a little with his weight, but not enough to drag it fully into the water. "It's nice. I like it."
Butters grinned before reaching behind him. "And, and, I can try this out! Ta-da!" He proudly held up a stick with a thin fiber rope attached; attached; at the end of the line, a hook Butters had carved out of fish bone had been stabbed through a chunk of raw fish for bait.
"It's a fishing rod. Now I can try and catch some fish, too." Butter cast the line out. "If it works, anyway."
"I dunno. Fish aren't that smart. Do you really think they'll fall for that?" Kenny asked.
"Worked back home. Island fish can't be any smarter than the ones in the lake. We just gotta be quiet, is all." Butters wiggled his feet, splashing against the water with his toes.
After a while of waiting in silence, Kenny asked, "Does it usually take this long? I could have caught a bunch by now."
Butters sighed. "Sometimes you catch 'em real quick. Sometimes you don't." He scrunched up his face in thought then asked, "Hey, Kenny, do fish like music?"
"I like music." Kenny replied as Butters began to pull the line back in.
"Lu, lu, lu, I got some apples. Lu lu lu, you got some to." He began to sing. Kenny listened as until Butters started the song over again. This time, Kenny jumped in singing right along. About the time he was half finished, he noticed Butters had stopped singing. Instead he stared at him, mouth agape.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"You've got a really pretty voice," Butters told him. "Probably the prettiest I ever heard!"
A blush crept up Kenny's cheeks. "Oh, thank you! I like yours too, and this song is lots of fun to sing."
Butters pulled his line back in for the final time as he spoke. "Ya know, all the stories I heard say that seafolk would sing to lure ships to crash and drown everyone. I guess whoever made up those stories never met a real seafolk fella like you. Huh, Kenny?" Butters laughed. When he didn't hear Kenny laughing with him, he turned towards him with a frown.
Kenny wore a deadpan expression on his face. "Butters." He said slowly. "Those stories aren't made up. We do do that."
"W-what?" Butters stammered.
With a sigh, Kenny turned towards the horizon. "We have to, sometimes. To protect ourselves." He turned back towards Butters again. This time his face was heavy with sorrow.
"When seafolk really cry, like actual cry, with full emotion, our tears turn to these gem things. We don't value them much, but your people do, for whatever reason. I don't get it. And for that reason they figure ou--" Kenny's voice cracked. He took a shuddering breath then went on, "they figured out the easiest way to make seafolk cry and steal those from us was to come to our homes, our nurseries, and s-slaughter us."
Butters' mouth open and shut in shock a few times. "W-what? Why? That's evil!"
Kenny nodded solemnly. "Any parents would weep if their baby was killed in front of them. And any child would bawl nonstop of their mom or dad was taken away." He held out his arm. "That...that's how I got most of these scars. A few are from just being a stupid little fry and fucking around with things I shouldn't, but most of them are from when a ship of greedy humans attacked my home and ki-killed my family. B-becuase of them, now I'm all...all al-alone..." He trailed off, his eyes clamped shut. His shoulders shook.
"Oh, oh God, Kenny, I'm...I'm sorry." Butters set his rod aside and got on his knees. "You don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want. I get it. Those seafolk that sink ships, it's because that's were families with babies live, huh? It's to keep them safe."
Kenny nodded stiffly.
"Yes." He croaked.  Butters felt his stomach twist in guilt. All the stories he'd heard of seafolk, of mermaids, they never painted them in a good light. The seafolk were evil. They pulled sailors from their ships and drowned them. They made storms and sent entire fleets to the bottom of the oceans, for no reason other than to laugh at the humans' whose lives they took. It never once occurred to Butters that the seafolk might have had a good reason to do those things.
Butters gently placed his hands on Kenny's cheeks before resting his forehead against his.  "I'm sorry. That was just plain rotten of those people. I don't even think they're people if they went and hurt little babies. They're the real sea monsters. " He smiled softly at Kenny.
Kenny smiled back before pulling Butters into a hug. For a moment, Butters felt a bit like a child, held in the larger creature's embrace. He wrapped his own arms around Kenny's neck. He felt Kenny take a quivering breath before he began to sob against Butters' shoulders. Somethings small and hard hit against the wood of the dock before splashing into the water between the logs.
Butters couldn't see them, but he knew what they must be and hugged Kenny closer.
"Kenny, even if a ship comes tomorrow, I promise I wouldn't leave ya." He whispered. "I'll stay here with you the rest of my life, if that means you ain't gonna have to be by yourself."
"You don't have to do that," Kenny pulled back, looking into Butters' eyes. Another tear rolled off his cheek. The gem it made fell into the water with a plop.
"I want to." Butters pressed. "You saved my life. You helped me when you didn't have to.  A kind person like you doesn't deserve to be alone. Not ever."
"B-Butters." Kenny forced a smile before reaching up and wiping his eyes. He paused before looking down at his hand, at the gem that began to form on his wrist.  A look of indecision crossed his face for a moment, before he leaned close and pressed a kiss against Butters' forehead. Before Butters could respond, Kenny dropped back into the water and disappeared.
Butters didn't see Kenny for the next few days. He would walk to the edge of the dock every night before he went to sleep, call for his friend, but Kenny never showed. On the fourth night, as Butters sat on the dock, with his feet in the water, he picked at his dinner. He heard a splash beside him.
Butters jumped as Kenny looked up at him. Only from his nose up was visible. He watched Butters for a long moment.
Finally Butters smiled down at him. "There you are. I missed you!" He offered out his cooked crab with a smile.
Kenny shook his head then rose from the water.
"Sorry, I got caught up in doing...things." He blushed. "Butters, hold out your hand."
Butters raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. Steeling himself with a breath, Kenny pressed his palm to Butters'. He placed his other hand under his, completely engulfing Butters'.
"This is for you." He said and slid his hands away. His fingertips lingering against Butters' skin for a beat longer than necessary.
Butters brought his hand to his face. He gasped. A necklace of small, shiny shells lay in his hand. In the center of the necklace was a small gem, the color of the sun. Butters held the gem closer and his eyes went wide.
"Is this...?"
Kenny nodded. "Yeah, but it's ok. I want you to have it. It's not from a sad tear. It's from a happy one."
Butters ran his thumb over the gem once. It was beautiful. Looking at it, he could almost feel the happiness that made it. He tied the necklace around his neck. The gem rested itself against the base of his neck like a tiny drop of sunlight.
"I'll never take it off, not ever." Butters smiled. "Thank you, Kenny."
Pink dusted Kenny's cheeks. He sunk a little into the water, not looking at Butters face. A half-snort half-laugh escaped Butters as he leaned closer.
"Hey," he said, "come're. I want to give you something back."
Kenny floated closer. Butters put his hands on his cheeks, rubbing his thumbs where the scales and skin intermingled. He scanned the merman's face, his freckles, his thin nose, his round cheeks, his ocean-colored eyes, then leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. He could almost feel Kenny's face heat up under his lips before he pulled back.
"You really promise to never take it off?" Kenny whispered.
Butters pressed their foreheads together."I promise. I'll wear until the day I die."
~~~~~
AN: I'm suppose to be working on my fic for the WIPBigBang but I guess my little break to write a short one shot turned into an long one shot. Heh. I'm the best.
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beanie-beebo-writes · 3 years
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Highway To Hell
Series Summary: An all-too-real nightmare and a missing brother sends Dean, Bobby, and Cas on a frantic search. All the while, what may be a bad dream leads to a probable jump-start to Dean's true worst nightmare, Sam jump-starting the end of the world. Set in season 4; consider this a parallel canonverse fic
Previous chapter, Masterlist
Chapter 13
"And by reign you mean..?" Bobby asks.
"God." Ruby replies.
Bobby and Dean soak up the new information in a brief silence; Dean huffs in amusement and defensively crosses his arms.
"Why is this big news anyway? It's not like He was there before; I see no difference."
"You're an idiot, you know that? Who do you think runs this universe? No God, no universe." Ruby spits.
"Couldn't someone take his place? Like the King or Queen passing down the throne to the next best heir?" Dean asks.
"Yeah, assuming He isn't dead or going to die, or else, we're all goners." Ruby says.
"How so?" Bobby asks.
"Really? The fate of the universe could be seconds from ending, and you're asking why?" Ruby says.
"Well, I figure if we know how His death might affect things, we can try to fully prevent the outcome." Bobby says.
"The stuff I told you was common knowledge, Idon't know every secret of the goddamn universe." Ruby says.
"Well you do have someone who might, right in front of you, you know." Bobby says, gesturing to Gadreel.
"Yeah, but at this pace, we might as well be dead. Any chance you could wake him up?" Dean asks.
"I'm a demon, not a miracle worker." Ruby says.
Bobby then wordlessly heads upstairs. He comes back down with the empty water bucket and heads over to a faucet in the corner. He mutters: "idjits" while the bucket fills up. After the bucket is full, he heaves it over to the angel and dumps it over its head. Gadreel shakes his head and spits a mixture of blood and water from his mouth.
"Is God dead?" Bobby asks, setting down the empty water bucket.
"From my knowledge, He is alive." Gadreel says.
"What were to happen if He somehow died?" Bobby asks.
"Is my father in trouble?" Gadreel asks.
"He might be. We need to know how to prepare." Bobby says.
Gadreel collects himself and sighs. "With god at the center of the universe, he is the main energy source. Without Him, the universe collapses."
Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Great."
"He isn't dead, because there is still light illuminating the skies." Gadreel adds.
Ruby, Bobby, and Dean turn their attention to the cellar windows. Despite the sun not shining brightly, the outside world is glumly lit by an overcast sky.
"Well that's good to know." Dean says.
"That might give us some more time for now, but we still need to keep plugging away." Bobby says.
"Well what now? I mean, it's not like we have access to heaven." Ruby says.
"There is a gate, I can take you there." Gadreel says.
"Just like that?" Dean asks.
"You're Dean Winchester, aren't you?" Gadreel asks.
"Yeah?"
"I assume you have good intentions, as I have heard many great things about you and your brother."
Dean furrows his eyebrows. "Not from the angels.. They don't have anything good to say about us. So from whom?"
"My Father."
Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise.
"Wait, what?" He asks. "Is this the same entity we are talking about here?"
"God cares about His children more than you are inclined to believe." Gadreel says.
Dean grits his teeth and tightly crosses his arms.
"Do you have contact with Him?" Bobby asks.
"Not directly, but I do hear from him in His garden from time to time." Gadreel says.
"When did you last hear from Him?" Bobby asks.
"It's been a while." Gadreel says.
"We need to figure out what's going on, and fast. Let's get geared up and head out." Bobby says.
Around an hour of confusing directions later, the four of them arrive at a small playground off of a side road. Bobby and Dean furrow their brows at one another before turning to the angel in the back seat.
"You're sure you've got the right place?" Dean asks.
"I can feel the energy radiating from the gates, I am positive we are in the right place." Gadreel says, looking out the window.
Dean raises his eyebrows and steps out of the car; everyone else follows suit. Upon observing the oddly deserted area, he notices a sandbox, where a very intricate pattern had been drawn into the sand. Sitting on a bench next to the sandbox, a sole middle-aged woman watching the nearby scenery.
"I never realized how much of an inconvenience it was to drive. I apologize for not having my wings." Gadreel says.
Not knowing how the angel fell, Bobby and Dean kept silent and beeline for the trunk arsenal. They holster some handguns and grab some angel blades, not quite knowing what to expect.
"So what's the plan exactly? Head in, guns blazing?" Dean asks.
"We really don't know what we're up against, so I would stay nonchalant as possible until we figure out what's going on." Bobby suggests.
"Good point, do we bring Rosemary?" Dean asks.
"It wouldn't be too kindly looked upon, so I say we keep her outside the gates for lookout. If needed, we could always bring her up to help." Bobby says.
Dean closes the trunk and locks the Impala before heading over to the rest of their crew. They had apparently wandered off to converse with the woman on the bench. From the looks of it, things had gotten a bit heated.
"Heaven is closed for renovation right now, you'll have to return later." The woman says firmly.
"And you," The woman directs her attention to Ruby. "Are never welcome in our Father's home."
Dean and Bobby close in on the gathering and nonchalantly reach for the hilts of their angel blades.
"Care to explain what the fuss is about?" Dean asks.
"No business to you, Winchester. Now you and your friends best be on your way, before you're forced to leave." The woman says.
"And since when is heaven ever renovated?" Bobby asks.
"New orders are in place, and no interferences will be tolerated." The woman says.
"Orders from God?" Dean asks.
"In a way, yes. One last warning, I suggest you leave before this playground is slathered with your insides." She says.
"My sister, we need to pass. We do not want to cause anything. I can assure you, that it is an emergency." Gadreel reasons.
"What part of 'no interruptions' escapes your understanding? Leave, now." The woman says.
"You know what?" Dean begins, slowly walking towards the woman. "We're not asking."
He slides out his angel blade, causing her to do the same. Simultaneously, everyone else but Gadreel follows.
"Is this necessary?" Gadreel asks.
"Only if she won't cooperate, and it seems we have little choice." Bobby says.
Dean looks back at Ruby, signaling a silent command, before he charges at the woman. Before he can make a full attack, brief screeching pierces his eardrums and he winces slightly. He blocks the angel's move to stab his stomach while also trying to get the upper hand. Behind him he hears a series of clanking and grunting, and then suddenly, a scream. Then another. Before he can notice, Bobby grabs his arm and he is running beside Gadreel towards Heaven's gates.
Just before they are enveloped in a mixture of sand, clouds, and light, Dean takes one last glance back at the fight behind him. He catches Ruby's eye just before a flash of orange erupts from her vessel.
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