Varia As Counselors
  • Xanxus:Do I look like I care about your problems, trash. *points gun* GTFO.
  • Bel:Ishishi, it's because you're not a prince. Pa~the~tic~
  • Mammon:Pay me for my services, and then you'll have your advice.
  • Levi:I feel your pain. I too, am always seeking the attention of my senpai. He won't even look at me! *lays down on couch* It all started on a cold winter's morning--
  • Luss:Oh, you poor thing! Tell Mama all about it, and whose kneecaps I have to break~
  • Gola Mosca:........*PUFF*
Imagine Dean comforting you after you'd been injured...

Characters - Dean x reader
Warnings - Angst, Injury, Fluff, Light language
A/N - A quick little story I thought up loosely based on an injury I had myself at one point.

“Y/N!” Dean screams your name with worry in his voice as your body goes hits the ground. Just then the demon stupidly steps into the devil’s trap you’d set up for it earlier. Sam waves Dean away “I got this, go make sure she’s okay”

Dean runs over to you, quickly hitting the floor and begins checking you for injuries. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops when he looks you over.
“What, what is it?” The adrenaline rush you felt has luckily kept away the pain of your fresh injury. Your eyes following Dean’s down to your leg where your kneecap was very clearly dislocated. The longer you looked at it, the more you panicked “Fix it! Dean! Fix it!” It was all you could muster between cries of shock.
Dean looks up into your eyes from your knee with one hand on the side of your knee and the other on the inside of your leg. The look in his green eyes rivaled those puppy dog eyes Sam would give you any time he apologized and that’s how you knew this was going to suck.
“I’m sorry, Y/N” his words and even the hug you felt afterwards didn’t soften the pain you felt as he slid your kneecap back into place.


You grunt and grumble as you try to reach the bookshelf from your seat being sure to look around every so often in case one of boys walked in so you could act natural because them babying you was the most embarrassing feeling. Even though you tried your hardest, you were fed up with the distance between you and the book.
“Motherfucker! Stupid leg, I just want the damn book please!” Your frustration got the best of you and the scream left your lips followed by a very loud huff. As you hang your head in defeat, arm still stretched toward the shelf you hear Dean clear his throat to the side of you.
You look over to see him standing in the doorway with furrowed brows and his arms crossed “Y/N what did I tell you? If you need help, call me right?” he asked the questions already knowing the answers. You couldn’t help but sigh and shake your head “I know, I know but I’m just…I’m just tired of feeling so helpless” Dean’s expression softening to sympathy when he sees tears pooling up in your eyes. He walks over to your chair, crouching down beside you as he looks into your eyes and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear “Hey, you’re not helpless. You’re just hurt and it happens to the best of us” He runs his thumb over your cheek to wipe away a tear that had escaped your eye.
“You don’t understand how broken I feel Dean. It’s been months! I can’t hunt, I can barely walk…I can’t even get into the shower alone” your head falling into your hands as you sob softly. Dean lets out a soft sigh and plants a long kiss on your temple. Speaking with a soft and caring voice, Dean’s words seemed to be just what you needed to hear “I’m going to help you through this Y/N, that’s what I’m here for. I’m gonna make sure your walking and kickin’ ass again soon” he chuckled and pulled your hands from your face, holding them in his “I wouldn’t let you shower without me even if you could walk. We’ll get through this together Y/N”
You couldn’t help but to let out a laugh before wiping your eyes dry “Thank you Dean” you lean over and give him a light kiss.
“Any time baby girl, I love you” his smile was all you needed to turn your mood around.
“I love you too. Now, about that book”

We met, we laughed.
We danced.
All fingers, all pulse,
all throats and feet
and my body flush
against yours.

The comparison to 
snowflakes, to autumn
leaves. The feel
of your arms.
The falling into them.
The falling into
your eyes like
shattered stars.

Jarring. Bones popping
out of sockets, your 
smile unzipping my
skin and turning it
inside out. The broken
wrists, the bruised 
hips, the unsent 
envelopes scattered
across my desk.

The letters burning.
The hearts burning.
The ‘sorry’ to my
wrists, my spine, my
eyes, my kneecaps. 
The standing up
again, the standing 
up again on
trembling, carpet
burnt legs.

—  Darshana Suresh, week 20 of 52 - “THE LOVE STORY”