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declinlalune · 5 months

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Stabby Wabbies || Andy & Zane

TIMING: current. LOCATION: downtown. PARTIES: @rn-zane & @declinlalune SUMMARY: zane is helping an injured civilian and asks andy for help. CONTENT WARNINGS: none.

The ER was rough these days, especially with all the displaced people coming in cold or hurt after spending the night outside with nowhere else to go. Not to mention those who were simply having a breakdown because a loved one was currently stuck and no one could provide information on whether or not the morbid statues all around town would actually pull through or not. So it was a relief when his shift ended, the cold evening air a blessing. Even returning to the house of doom felt better than staying at the ER longer - at least Zane could cuddle up with Buddy, put on something wholesome and turn off his brain.

Wishful thinking that the town would let him off that easy.

Zane would have smelled the blood first hadn’t his nose already been congested with the smell from his shift so nothing prepared him for the stranger who practically stumbled into his arms. Barely catching the man, his tired brain switched back into work mode as he lowered the stranger onto the ground, feeling something warm and wet coat his hands as he did. It wasn’t hard to spot where the blood was coming from, the desperate man clutching at his stomach in vain. Zane replaced the man’s hands with his own, pressing down but leaving him unable to call an ambulance.

“Hey! Over here, please. We need help,” he shouted, flooding with relief as someone exited a nearby store. Someone he recognized, Zane realized once the person rushed over. “Andy? Hey, hi, I- you need to call an ambulance.”

–

Andy heaved her tote bag over her shoulder, the cans of ravioli and off-brand campbell’s soup knocking against the keys at the bottom of her bag. So maybe she hadn’t planned packing her groceries away quite right, but did she ever? She always forgot her keys at the bottom of her bag, and then later on she’d be shuffling things around and rearranging just to find them. It was a toxic trait, and the carabiner she usually wore through her belt loop was left mangled on a pair of pants at the cabin.

She continued towards her jeep, looking up absently from her phone as she heard the telltale sound of somebody in need of help. Then it was her name. Andy looked up, confusion splitting across her features. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness easily, and on the ground was a familiar face, hands pressing into the stomach of somebody who was critically injured. She dropped her bag, rushing over. The ravioli and soup were forgotten– she could get them later.

“What the hell happened?” She scrambled to punch in the number for the ambulance, putting the phone on speaker. Andy dropped to the ground next to Zane, the smell of blood making her stomach turn. It brought her back to that place in the ranger’s cabin, her own hands covered in his blood– but this was not him, this was somebody who needed help.

The line connected and Andy recited Zane’s plea, explaining to the woman on the other line where they were. “Hurry!” She gasped out, reaching over with her free hand to stabilize the man, palm of her hand pressing into the wound to try and staunch the bleeding. She dropped her phone and looked up at Zane, mouth peeling over with iron.

“Tell me what I need to do.”

–

“I don’t know, he just- I don’t know,” Zane explained frantically, eternally grateful that Andy didn’t seem too frazzled to call for help. Knowing that help was on the way made it easier to focus, even with the smell of blood now fully filling his senses. He’d be fine, he was in control, but it definitely made it harder to think clearly. It was a relief when Andy’s hands moved to replace his own, now covered in blood.

Throwing off his bag, Zane emptied the contents onto the sidewalk, picking out the spare shirt and bundling it together. “Here,” he instructed, working with Andy to place the material over the wound and press down. “Hold it. Tight.” His attention moved further up the man’s body, thankfully not seeing any more injuries as he rubbed his knuckles against the man’s sternum. He was rewarded with a pained groan and heaved a sigh of relief. “Hey, there. Help is on the way, just gotta stay with us for a little bit longer, buddy.” His hands found the man’s face, eyes slowly opening, looking unfocused.

“Just keep holding that pressure on, okay?” Zane instructed Andy, offering a small smile that hopefully told her she was doing great. Once his attention turned back to the man, he noticed him pawing meekly at his chest and eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Your chest hurts?” He pushed the man’s jacket open further and immediately recoiled, scrambling back where he was kneeling on the asphalt at the sight of the stake that was tucked inside the man’s jacket.

—

Andy had expected for Zane’s heart to be hammering just as hers was, but the sound of her own heartbeat and the slow, but still there beat of the man’s heart on the ground was the only sound brought to her ears except for a few cars pulling by. None of which seemed mildly interested in helping. Of course. Maybe they thought this was an act; something about the bystander effect.

It didn’t matter what Zane was, Andy decided. What mattered was that he was helping this person, and it was clear that he knew how to do it. He was a nurse, after all, and those were the backbone of every hospital. That’s what she thought, at least. Andy took the material Zane handed her without question, pressing it down onto the man’s wound. It immediately began to seep up some of the blood.

Would somebody have done this for the man she had killed if they’d been there? Would Kaden have, if he hadn’t walked out? No, no, Andy thought. He had accepted she killed him, even if he didn’t like it. She swallowed thickly, feeling sweat begin to bead at the back of her neck. Stop it, Andy thought to herself as she held down on the wound, now is not the time.

Zane was speaking to the victim and Andy pretended those words were for her. They kept her grounded– like some kind of buoy to keep her from sinking too deep into the reality of this situation.

“Yeah, yeah.” Andy nodded, tilting her head slightly to wipe some of the sweat from her forehead off on the forearm of her flannel. It was cold out, but she felt so warm all of a sudden. The man was motioning towards his chest and Andy looked over, eyebrows knit together as she tried to get a good look at what had sent Zane backwards. “Is that–” It wasn’t hard to place, she realized. She looked over at Zane, mouth opening and then closing. “Is he–?” No, he still had a heartbeat, he was still human. “What the fuck.” She squeezed her eyes closed tightly, seeing stars for a moment before they sprang open with the realization that this could have been a hunter who had his weapon turned back on him. The thought made her want to release the pressure she had on him. But what if that weren’t the case?

All she could taste was iron, and she could smell it, too. “Zane, ask him what happened. Try and ask him.”

—-

Not being able to breathe while not actually needing oxygen never got any stranger. Zane knew he both didn’t need to and was physically capable of breathing at this moment but the panic constricting his chest was making it hard to think. A slayer. A hurt slayer that had probably been hurt in a fight. Where was the person he had been fighting? Maybe they were gone. Maybe they were like the vampire he had watched Emilio kill, the one Zane had somehow convinced himself deserved it. Just like for a moment he truly wanted to convince himself this man also did.

The moment passed and Zane shakily moved back closer, Andy’s words barely registering as he stared into the slayer’s eyes. Finally, he spared a glance at his companion who looked just as shocked as he did. So she did know more than she’d let on during that first meeting, at least enough to be disturbed by the sight of a stake. Swallowing thickly, Zane turned back to the man and quickly reached for the stake, tossing it far down the street where it couldn’t be used for more harm.

“The person you were after, are they still alive?” Zane demanded, his posture now wary and a far cry from the worry and protection that had come off him in waves before. The slayer was glaring at him, clearly aware of what was keeping him alive at this moment, and hating it. “Are they still alive?” he repeated, teeth gritted. After a beat, the slayer finally nodded. It could have been a lie to save his hide but Zane could tell from the disappointed look in the man’s eyes that his kill had been foiled.

—

Zane ripped out the stake and blood bloomed across his chest. For a moment, Andy hoped he’d bleed out. The thought was ripped from her as she pictured Emilio on the ground– a hunt gone wrong with somebody– or something that deserved it. It could have been a spawn, or some other kind of beast. It was complicated, feeling the way she felt. She could tell it was complicated for Zane, too, because his expression was not that of a calm and collected individual.

Andy listened to the slayer, in between his shaky breaths, and she felt her chest burn. Did it matter what the man said now? Would she believe him? Would Zane? Andy lifted her gaze to meet Zane’s before it slipped back over the injured slayer. She still saw a version of Emilio– of a man who had tried to protect somebody but had gotten hurt in the process. Then she saw the ranger. A man who had gone after somebody who was put into this life– into their situation without any say. Andy wasn’t sure what story to believe.

She pressed down on the wound– enough to keep the pressure, but enough to hurt. It was maybe a little sadistic, but she couldn’t help herself. “Where are they?” The slayer groaned in pain and she pressed down harder. “Where?” The slayer’s hand lamely pointed in the direction from which he’d come. “There,” the man gasped out, that same hand coming to where the stake had been, fingers separating his shirt from the wound in his chest. Andy looked up at Zane and nodded. “Do you– do I check? Do you?” What if this were just some person who’d been attacked for the sake of what they were?

—-

To Zane’s surprise, Andy’s eyes burned with the same intensity he felt, suspicion and anger rolling off the pair in waves. Had this slayer been reaching for his stake to take care of the vampire attempting to save his life? Was he one of the good ones, or even just one of those that fell somewhere in between, like Emilio?

Andy took over the questioning which was a relief, head spinning faster in Zane’s head than he could properly deal with. She was hurting him, not too badly but it was there, in the determination on her face. Zane didn’t tell her to stop, which somehow felt worse. Her attention turned to him and there was no getting lost in all the thoughts now - he needed to reply, to make a decision. Off in the distance, he could hear the faint sound of sirens. “I’ll go,” he settled on. If this was something dangerous, he didn’t want to have two bleeding people in his hands.

“You try anything, she’ll let go and you won’t last twenty seconds,” Zane warned, the words unfamiliar and strange coming from his mouth in that harsh tone. Giving a nod to Andy, he moved slowly towards the corner, trying to catch a scent of anything other than the blood on his hands, which he now realized smelled off. Not for vampires to snack on. Faintly remembering something about some slayers’ blood bringing pain to vampires, grateful that wasn’t the case now.

Rounding the corner, his eyes focused through the darkness until finally settling on a form that didn’t fit in with the trash bags and cardboard boxes. Something in the shape of a human. “Hey,” Zane said softly, his eyes burning red in the hopes it would help not scare this stranger off. “It’s okay, I’m here to help you.” He took a step closer and stopped immediately as the stranger moved, every muscle preparing for an attack but instead the stranger bolted off, clutching at what looked like a mangled arm. If not for Andy being all alone back there with a slayer who maybe deserved to bleed out, Zane would have followed. Instead, he skulked back to the commotion, blue lights now flashing just a few blocks away.

“They ran off…”

—-

Zane understood her plea, and Andy looked back down to the slayer beneath her hold. There was a warning left in his wake, too, and she couldn’t help but be grateful that he seemed to understand that, too.

The time in which it took for Zane to leave and reappear was filled with the slayer’s gurgling breath and the telltale sound of sirens coming down the street. She was glad to at least be rid of him soon enough. She waited for Zane, expression hopeful as he came back into view.

They ran off.

That was better than left dead. Andy looked back down at the slayer who now had his hand wrapped around her wrist, probably to ease the pressure she was applying. She pressed harder and he gasped out in pain. There were a lot of questions that Andy wanted to ask– did Zane get a good look at their face, did they look like they’d survive, did they look like they had done something to deserve this? But none of them left her mind.

“Ma’am?” Andy looked up to see one of the paramedics at her side. She hadn’t even realized they arrived. “We can take it from here.”

Where her hands once were, were replaced by the woman who was speaking to her, and in a flurry of movement, they had gotten him onto a gurney and into the ambulance.

“We’ll ask that you remain here, the police will have some questions.” Andy just nodded before looking over at Zane. “Do you think he’ll make it?” She wasn’t sure what she hoped.

—

So much flashed across Andy’s face and most of it seemed to mirror Zane’s thoughts exactly. His own head was spinning, the scene of paramedics taking over passing like a blur in front of his eyes. Bloody hands hung limp by his side as he offered a curt nod of his own to the paramedic. Andy looked just as struck and all of the ‘whys’ in Zane’s brain spun faster and louder.

“In my experience, they don’t die easy,” he found himself saying, own voice foreign to his ears, the sharp chill of it. The doors to the ambulance slammed shut and Zane stepped closer to Andy, chest twisting at the sight of a police cruiser rolling up. “I think… we should talk when they let us leave.”

Whatever Andy was, or knew, it was more than she had let on so far. Even though Zane felt rather confident now that she shared his opinions on slayers, she was definitely smart enough to know that he did, too. Whether she’d fully pieced together the slayer’s reaction to him was unclear but… Well, they were both in need of some answers. Some clean clothes and tea as well.

#para: stabby wabbies #para: zane #wickedswriting #//i love hera and zane sm.....

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hasishtardoneanythingwrong · 11 months

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Dragon Witch on the Unholy Night

Valentine's season was always a bit hectic in Chaldea. There were enough Servants running around (and time had been undone for long enough) that it usually lasted for at least a full week. And as could be expected, the ways that Servants showed their affection was something Val had all but stopped trying to predict. She could expect chocolate at some point. There was no guarantee if it wouldn't be inedible, drugged, or a literal dumbbell, but it was at least something she could expect to see. Everything else was anybody's guess, though. A giant plush hippogryph. A fursuit. An eternal tropical vacation (that the Count had thankfully saw fit to bring an end to). A fucking gun. At their worst, they strained the definition of what could be reasonably considered a Valentine's gift.

By that standard, The Coffee Incident had been downright reasonable. Alter had still been adjusting to... everything, and hadn't quite gotten a hang on things like "earnest emotional expression" and "being able to have feelings outside of hatred". Still, Val had appreciated the gesture (even if it had firmly cemented her distaste for the drink. Ten cups, ugh.)

For Alter, though, that moment was like a lead weight. Even though she had grown closer to her Master, she found Valentine's to be a source of shame, frustration, and anger. It had started with a handful of singed Servants, but quickly settled to Alter shutting herself away for the season, like she was hibernating until everything died down before reappearing. It wasn't ideal, but Val could understand needing some space.

This meant it was a little concerning when Alter showed up two days into the festivities, dragging Val off to the Master's room.

"Everything okay?"

Alter just stared at Val, like she was trying to work herself up to say something. Then, faster than Val could react, a hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck. Heat flared, just shy of being uncomfortable, and then was gone, leaving a patch of tender skin. Alter nodded, evidently satisfied.

"...Okay, what was that?"

Alter huffed.

"Wanted to do something special, show you that you're stuck with me. Chocolate's just gonna get eaten, and stuff's gonna get lost, so I figured I'd give you something that would stick with you. Something that'll last. Lucky me, that blue asshole owed me one, and runes are bullshit that can do whatever the hell you want them to, so I didn't need to learn how to use one of those needle gun things."

"...Did you just give me a neck tattoo?"

Alter nodded, a satisfied look on her face.

Val did her best to suppress a sigh. It wasn't that she didn't like the idea of getting a tattoo. Val kinda wanted one, but between not knowing what she would get and the whole incineration of humanity business, it had just never come up. She was a sucker for Alter's designs, so she was sure it looked fine, but she really wished she had been consulted first. Really, she just wished that it went somewhere else. Maybe on her wrist, so she could look at it when she wanted to. But what was done was done, so she resolved to appreciate it for what it was. Turning around to face a mirror, Val tilted her neck to get a better look.

Blink.

"...Uh, Alter?"

"Yeah?"

"There's nothing there."

"...What?"

Val turned back around, pointing at the empty patch of skin where Alter had grabbed her.

"...Okay, what the fuck! 'Should be simple enough' my ASS! Next time I see that guy I'm gonna grab his staff and shove it so far up his ass he'll be coughing out splinters for a month!"

Val could smell the smoke already. Not great. She looped an arm around Alter in a loose one armed hug, in the hopes of keeping fires to a minimum while they got this fixed.

"It's okay, we can just get a new one done together, right? How about you show me how you wanted it to look, we'll find someplace to get it done, annnnnnd..."

Val trailed off, the thought dying on her lips. She stared, as black ink streamed across the skin of her arm, tongues of stylized flame spiraling up to her wrist. She pulled away to get a better look, watching as a pool of black flickered on her palm, like it was one of Alter's fireballs. It almost seemed to have a pulse of its own, synced up with Alter's breathing.

"Alter? You gave me a living tattoo. Holy shit this is awesome."

Alter's eyes were glued to Val's arm, watching the ink before swirling into a gently flickering ring around Val's wrist.

"Of course, now you really need to show me what you designed. I have to see what ideas you came up with. Come on!"

Val took Alter by the hand. Flames jumping between their intertwined fingers, she dragged the red-faced Servant out of her room.

---

A/N: Oh hey there, been a while. Guess what's looks at wrist 4 months late. In case it wasn't clear, blue guy is CasCu. Anyway, this too is Yuri.

#mastersona time #alter

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bittersweetloveispoison · 6 months

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I’m struggling being scape goated

The gun in the barrel is loaded

She shoots once and hangs me on the wall

To tell everyone that she loves me but that’s not the case at all

She’s breaking me down

It’s getting hard to breathe

Almost given up I’m ready to leave

I don’t want to be here anymore

I’m trying to stand but I’m broken in my core

I don’t want to burden anyone, do they really love me do they even care I’m going to disappear

This game is going to end they can’t play with no one here

I don’t want my mum anywhere near me I don’t want her at my funeral I don’t want my name in her snakey mouth hissing away

Because it’s her that did this to me but she will play victim and put on a performance of pain

She gave birth to me and then she held my hand to my death

I was holding her hand in hopes for her to my breath

And then she will scream how she’s lost her child

The torture I’ve endured because of her, you can’t fathom it’s wild

I’m signing off

I don’t care

I want to see my pappou

Maybe I will find peace there

Where I felt at home and safe she yanked away

She deprives me pretends I’m a trophy and the stores me in chains

I never thought I’d feel that feeling of wanting to die again because I was in denial

Medicating sedating and comatising choking in my sleep on vile

I was overdosing in my sleep and she wouldn’t help as I chocked

Instead she tied the rope on my neck and then began to poke

She created wounds that ate me from in the inside out until I was diminished

I think her mission is life was for her to make me suffer and it’s finished

Congratulations you won your endeavour

But there won’t be a day you won’t see me I’m going to HAUNT you forever

The tricks and scrutiny you’re going to now eat

I’m feeding you everything you served so now you take a seat

And you won’t have a choice how can you run from a ghost?

What are you going to say then? What will you have to boast?

You built yourself while you stomped on me to make yourself higher

You evil twisted demon you’re a liar and a fraud

A bad person, rotten to the place where your hearts supposed to be

You took mine when you killed me but believe me it wasn’t free

For all my downfalls you used to make yourself seem better

You’re a snake you’ll always be on the ground you’re not capable to be clever

You think you’re holding the cords but along time ago they became severed

Bye bye bitchety boo

I hope you rot in hell forever and they put you in a never-ending loop of what you made me endure while I was just trying to live my life

You thought you stabbed me in the back,

But it was a double ended knife

I hope you’re stuck in it for eternity so my reality becomes yours

And then we will see what you can persevere and overcome in a violent war

I really don’t wish you the best

I hope maggots eat you to your core

So from this point I’m cutting my ties

I don’t want you as a mum and I’m not going to beg for your love Desperate to do anything while suppressing my pain

But I’m seeing you for what you are, putrid deranged and completely insane

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blorbosondeck · 3 years

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fic rec masterlist

canon divergent/finale fix its

Anamnesis

THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!

"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas

GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts

repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it

“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”

Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?

VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!!

"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."

Keep Your Love Alive

okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much

"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"

The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas

this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️

“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“

Ascend by @wanderingcas

THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss

“Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?”

Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles

i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen

Closer (isn't close enough)

are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.

“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”

You and Your Husband

it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3

"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."

Tall Grass

miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3

Invictus

a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it

“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.

Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.

They still have someone they need to save.”

Unchained Link

post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!

"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."

fun and time unspecified

Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5

very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️

"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."

The Way We Were

Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual

"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"

While You Were Sleeping

this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up.

aus/rewrites

The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript

i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it

“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“

absolute riots

An Ineffably Profound Bond

i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this

"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.

When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."

Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige

cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it

“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“

Stray Cat Strut

a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this

"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.

Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"

canon compliant or slight canon divergence

Give

by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic

Punch Like Bones

short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten

#lmao please interact with this i spent so much time on it #i had to go onto desktop for this #ill keep adding on to it #my fic recs #fic rec #spn fic rec #deancas fic recs #charlie.txt

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superseggsygurl · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 .𝟐

This ending kinda sucks but we love Y/n being a girlboss😋

Warnings: Swearing, Toxic relationship, Cheating

(Not proofread)

part 1

Everyday felt so repetitive. Almost as if you were stuck in a never ending loop.

Vinnie would come home late, you guys would argue, then most likely fuck, and then you would fall asleep crying.

It was so tiring.

Over the last couple months you realized that he would never change, and that all you were doing was feeding into his little lies, and breaking yourself down a bit more each time.

You so badly wanted to change. But it was going to take something bigger to really push you to leave him.

***

It was currently a Friday night and you and Vinnie were getting ready for a party that he told you he wanted you to come to, yet you didn’t know why. He said it was to ‘make up’ for how shitty of a boyfriend he had been, but this party didn’t seem like it was about making it up to you because you didn’t know a single person attending this party, nor did you even like partying. You remembered when you and Vinnie use to come to parties his friends would throw just to stand in the corner together and crack jokes about how fucked up everyone was.

But things were clearly different now because as of right now, you were standing in a corner by yourself, as Vinnie and his friends ran off somewhere to go smoke and drink.

You hated this.

You hated that he didn’t have the decency to make sure you were okay, or spend even 5 minutes with you.

You had a bad feeling about tonight from the moment he asked you to come.

You didn’t know what it was, but there was this pit deep down in your stomach telling you that this night would not end well.

***

It had been about 2 hours since you had gotten to this party and not once did you see Vinnie’s face, so you decided to search for him to ask him if he could at least take you home.

You felt as if you had been searching for an eternity, even if it had only been about 5 minutes.

As you opened the last bedroom door, what you didn’t expect to see was Vinnie balls deep in what seemed to be a random blonde girl, who you had never seen in your life.

It felt like everything had slowed down.

Like everything was in slow motion.

You felt almost light headed.

Then you finally spoke. “Vinnie what the actual fuck.” Your voice cracked as you tried your best not to cry in front of him, and the other girl beside him.

“Hey hey hey, I swear it’s not what it looks like baby, I swear. You know I love you Y/n.

“Save it, I don’t wanna hear any of your pathetic excuses, go fuck yourself Vinnie.” By this time that girl was long gone, as she ran out of the room to get away from the couple.

Though all you wanted to do was run away from him you didn’t have a ride back, nor did you have any friends at this event to take you home.

“Take me home.” You whispered, still trying to stop yourself from breaking down.

“What?” Vinnie questioned, not really like he heard you correctly.

“Did I fucking stutter Vinnie, I said take me home.” You said, much louder this time.

“Okay, come baby let’s go.” Vinnie spoke proudly, thinking he had fooled you once again into believing him.

***

When you finally arrived at your apartment complex you bolted out of the car. You didn’t have time to hear his pleas. You wanted to go.

When Vinnie finally caught up to you in your shared bedroom, what he didn’t expect to see was you throwing every article of clothing that you owned into random bags.

That’s when he started to panic. Reality was finally setting in. He was about to lose you for good.

“Wait baby we can fix this, it was a mistake. She meant absolutely nothing to me. I promise-

“Do you still love me?” You interrupted him, tired of hearing his bullshit excuses.

“What I-”

“Yes or no Vinnie, your answer won’t keep me from leaving, but I need you to tell me the truth for once.”

“I don’t know Y/n, but I don’t want you to leave me.” His heart ached. He knew he was hurting you, but this isn't the way he wanted things to turn out.

“I’m leaving, I’m not gonna put myself through this anymore.”

This upset Vinnie. Were you really about to leave him?

“Where the hell are you gonna go then Y/n, hm? You don’t have anyone else but me. Your a fucking freak, a lonley freak. Vinnie ranted. You wanted to believe he was just lashing out because he was upset, and that he really didn’t think of you like that.

“I’m staying at a hotel until I find a place, I don’t need you anymore.” You spoke, as calmly as possible.

“I hope all those girls treat you well Vinnie.” You said, turning on your heels, and walking out of the room.”

‘Y/n please, come on baby, this isn't what you want, I know you.” He begged, pulling your arm back.

“I’ll be back to get the rest of my stuff soon Vinnie. Goodbye.”

Walking out that door felt amazing. You didn’t know what was to come for you, but you definitely made more than enough money to get yourself a nice place, so you weren’t too concerned.

This was a new chapter in your life and from now on you were never going to depend on a man to live your life.

#vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagines #vincent hacker #vhackerr

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

(Not so) Infinite Bachelor State

Arthur Conan Doyle x MC Fluff

Written for: Dice be Nice Request: @saphyhowl Roll: Arthur + Arranged Marriage AU + A curse/A spell gone wrong Word Estimate: 3k

Whew, here it is!

Content Warnings: alcohol (mention)

Truthfully, there was one thing Arthur always despised about his position as the heir – there was always somebody, or even multiple somebodies, always knowing better and always thinking he owed them everything, obedience included. Perhaps if they cared enough to properly talk with him, they’d learn he never asked to be put in this position, that if it depended entirely on him, he’d chose a different life, he’d be a different person, and… Well, plenty other noble things, surely. Alas, they never seemed to be interested in the matter enough, only ever being preoccupied with how harmless or harmful his various escapades and romances – ah, the way the youth acts out, they would sigh – were to the family name. The games had to end, however.

“I am no decorative bird up to being displayed in a cage, sir, no,” Arthur exclaimed, storming out of the room. The door shut behind him violently, various relatives shaking within the constraints of their portraits covering nearly the entirety of the wall. Perhaps if he looked back, he’d feel their glares on himself, all the esteemed aunties and uncles being appalled by such treatment of the elderly, even if long dead. Arthur didn’t do it, however, all the seemingly vengeful looks being thus directed at the first brave soul willing to step out of the study, an elderly man pushing the door anxiously, as if wishing to make up for excess commotion with negative noise. “Young master, please, wait, wait!” he spoke in a hushed voice, rushing towards Arthur in an odd sort of semi-run enforced by wear of much too formal kind to easily allow for such frivolous activities. “I’ve said all I had to say, and please, do not make me repeat myself. Late mother’s bust would surely turn into an earless one if that were to be the case.” Arthur gestured angrily. “But master!” “Master? I am truly quite a powerless one!” He stopped abruptly and turned around, pointing an accusatory finger at the man. “And you did not drop me even a hint of warning, not even a word! I could have been long gone form this sorry place, could have eloped and…!” A sigh leaving his lips, Arthur shook his head and resumed walking at a much slower pace. “Young master, I am deeply sorry. Your uncles – they are quite hardy men to propose such an idea, and simple caretaker, I –” “I know, I am aware. You could do little, couldn’t you? Ahh, those bloody, money-thirsty, motherfu – !” “Young master, this is not the language I have taught you!” the man cut him off mid-word. “Mother… Lovers,” Arthur finished after a pause. “Cursed be their fate for arranging this fate, and cursed be mine!”

The front door of the mansion having seemingly materialised before them, Arthur pushed it open, fully intending to drown his sorrows in water of a rather unholy kind. At least then, to properly celebrate his last day as the bachelor, the bride already waiting somewhere in his estate.

***

For Arthur to wake up to the first lights of the day was rather unusual – for him to do so without a headache after such a night, and in his own bed? Plainly impossible. Arthur sat up abruptly, his memory hazy although in a familiar way, only the last few event being a little blurry. He sighed. The luckiest day of my life, eh?, he thought to himself, his back touching the mattress again, his head soon disappearing below the duvet.

Intending to fall asleep and perhaps even be late for his own – very unwelcome – wedding, Arthur opted to ignore the rushed steps outside of his room, being even more indifferent when the door opened and somebody stepped inside. Could it be his bride? Ah, heavens, as if he cared. She could be the nicest woman in the world, but this? This felt fake, so very unlike all the stories he had read. Wasn’t he capable of finding the one on his own, when the time came? Truly, to strip him off of his agency even in that regard, what a cruel – cursed – fate… “Young master?” Arthur groaned, the servant, his old care-taker, apparently being the one sent to unearth him. He pushed himself up. “Yes?” “Your uncles wanted to exchange a few words with you.”

Somewhat surprised, Arthur dragged himself out of the bed, fully expecting to hear either one of two messages – either the lady saw him in the city and wanted to call the marriage off (meaning the family name was spoiled beyond repair and he, Arthur, was the only one to blame for such a turn of events), or they truly wanted him to know something more about the situation than “you are getting married” by itself. It is no wonder his confusion only grew, the first few words being uttered having been spoken out just the day before, the entire conversation following the very same pattern. “Dearest uncles, I do believe you take me for a fool. I did drink a little yesterday, but be not mistaken, I do recall your scheme being revealed. It should be a wedding day today, shouldn’t it?” he ground the words through his teeth. The men looked at each other, no less puzzled. “Arthur, have you drank just now? The guests only just came few hours back, it’s – ”

They didn’t get to finish, however, Arthur already storming out of the room. A cruel joke, indeed, but it was never said he had to withstand such treatment, no. Somewhat annoyed, he walked the corridors, eventually sneaking out of the dreaded estate yet once again.

Arthur woke up with a start. Somewhat confused, he looked around, the room being no other place than his very own bedroom. The door opened, the servant stepping inside. “Ah, young master, I see that you’re awake,” the man spoke, a troubled smile on his face. “Your uncles wanted to exchange a few words with you.”

***

The days stretched, each beginning in the very same fashion. The time had seemingly started chasing after its own tail, thus stopping to progress on behalf of being stuck in a loop, memories of every attempt to break it being erased from nearly every mind – at least to Arthur’s knowledge, no other person appearing to realise what was happening around. At first martyred, Arthur cursed plenty (although quietly, as not to deprive dear mother’s bust off of her ears far too many times), fully convinced it would go on for no longer than a few days, consequently only extending the duration of his personal hell. The time seemed to have a different plan, however – and when a month passed, Arthur was certain, it would not move an hour more into the future. So to say, he was locked in an infinite sort of a bachelor state, eternally stuck on repeating the last day of his freedom from dreaded arranged marriage that ultimately, was one forever of days away.

At first he spent the time leisurely, each day listening to the very same explanations patiently, then opting to play along nicely, much less desperately than previously. For all he knew, he could both party and drink with friends, falling asleep just about anywhere and waking up in his very own – very comfortable – bed. Eventually getting tired of lengthy daily lecture of his uncles, Arthur came up with ways to shorten it significantly, asking questions as to get to the very bottom of matter and be able to go on with his endeavours. Having calmed down from the initial euphoria, he returned to his ordinary life, each day thinking up stories (although not writing them down, for the manuscripts wouldn’t last), indulging in reading, and perhaps spoiling his dog with a little more attention than usually. Few skills remained completely unobtainable to him, his personal library providing at least a single lifetime worth of information… And yet, despite all the things that he had learnt, Arthur began to feel lonely, no relationships developing in any way. There was no person he could confide in, no soul who’d feel compassion to him, no partner to converse with – and to keep the conversation alive during the next day, without the need to reintroduce the topic at hand.

Somewhat lost as to what he should do, Arthur began simply walking down the corridors of his very own estate, greeting the various guests who managed to arrive for his wedding on the day that would never end. Curious to the very bone, he found himself wondering who could the dreaded bride be, his uncles still having kept the name a secret from him. A goat can die only once, he thought, climbing the staircase leading to their study, his knuckles soon knocking onto the wooden door. A voice from behind it inviting him to come in, Arthur stepped inside, a question on his lips: “Dear uncle, a certain matter skipped me during our morning talk. What exactly… Is the name of my bride?” “Well…” “Well?” he inquired, leaning closer on the dark wooden desk. “The truth is, the lady in question requested not to tell you in particular. She arrived with her entourage yesterday, it was her only request…” “Dear uncle, please, we will be married tomorrow, what’s the difference?” The man paled, his hands trembling slightly. He weaved his fingers together, soon propping his head over his knuckles. “The thing is, we do not know ourselves. Or to be more precise, we do, but all of the ladies who had arrived seem to be of the same name. And which one… Which one, you see…” Arthur opened his eyes wider, his throat and mind alike refusing to co-operate – there were simply no words to explain his state. “I see,” he uttered, turning on his heel and leaving the room behind. A curious state of affairs, he reckoned.

***

One thing his library lacked were books on magic or ancient knowledge otherwise lost to time. Given how the loop did not extend past the period of one day, he was unable to obtain anything other than wares offered in the city’s bookshop, their selection being lacking at best. Unable to break the odd curse, Arthur found himself pacing, the monotonous chatter and otherwise strangely familiar dialogue turning his personal heaven into yet another kind of hell. Perhaps he needed rest? A few months passed and Arthur began to seek a solitary state, sneaking out to be by himself whenever an opportunity arose.

One of his most treasured spots was a lone swing, hung over a tree branch by his very father when Arthur was still a little boy. How did the line survive the years? He could not know, and truthfully, cared little of it, the place being secluded enough to grant him a moment of peace. His dog sitting by the trunk, Arthur lifted his gaze, as if attempting to see through the tree crowns. “You don’t remember either, do you, Vic?” he sighed. “Although it can’t be much difference for a dog. Your days seem to be infinite either way, right?” he laughed softly. The pet rose his head. “What is it, my friend? You want me to play as well?” Vic yawned, getting up lazily as to sit before Arthur, two hopeful eyes staring at his owner lovingly. Having hoisted the animal into his lap, Arthur kicked the ground below them thus weakly propelling the swing. Absent-mindedly, he let his fingers brush through the soft fur, the wag of the tail earning Vic a little chuckle. “At the very least I’m stuck in here with you, Vic. An eternity with a dog seems much less lonely, heh…”

Too lost in his own thoughts, Arthur didn’t realise plenty things, one of them being the sun slowly sinking below the horizon – and the other one being a foreign sort of presence, a sudden inquiry startling him nearly to death. “Excuse me, have you just said ‘an eternity’?” a woman asked, leaning from behind the tree trunk. “Because, sir, you see… I seem to be stuck in an odd dream that nobody seems to be aware of.” Arthur snapped his head to look at her, their eyes locking. “Do you, by any chance… Do you wake up each day and start it in the very same manner, the very same news being revealed to you, over and over again? No matter where you fall asleep, what food you eat, what choices you make – all, everything, always the same?” he blurted out. The woman nodded in reply. “I’m Maria,” she added, extending her arm. “Arthur,” he replied, shaking her hand.

Finally, after so many days, they have met, the first breakthrough in lifting the curse having been made unknowingly.

***

To say her presence was uplifting would be an understatement, the couple growing to become friends rather fast – although it did cause few surprised glances here and there, few people wondering how two total strangers could act is if they knew each other for months on end. Each day they were asked of it, each day making up a new excuse, their explanations gradually growing more vibrant, almost detailed. As such, from a childhood friend, a long lost cousin and an apprentice he chatted with in the city few times, Maria ascended to being an orphan, estranged by her late uncles and aunts, and thus seeking support in the house of Doyle family, martyred by fate and unwelcoming humans alike. Arthur, on the other hand, evolved to don the alleged role of once met friendly, albeit unfortunate and rather superstitious, doctor-turned-writer, one who hated his very own creation beyond belief… Both introductions being lies, of course, they earned themselves pained sighs. There was little harm in it, though, wasn’t there, the memory of all other residents, of all other people, being erased with another day? Whenever they got bored, they made up new lies, all too aware that anything they’d do would be reversed. Somehow, the eternity ceased to appear merciless.

His hand holding hers, Arthur led Maria forward, careful as not to let any branches hurt her, this part of the groove still being fairly young. The setting sun finally starting to shine through the leaves, he relaxed, only the thrill of birds sounding off between the trees. A sigh of relief escaped his lungs. “Finally, some peace and quiet,” he laughed weakly, retreating his hand. “An almost married man shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do that, I swear…” he trailed off, turning around to gaze at her. To his surprise, however, Maria stared at him intensely, her brows knitted together. “An… Almost married man?” she asked, his eyes opening wide in sudden realisation. “It’s not like this!” Arthur blurted out instantly, rising his arms in front of himself. “You see, tomorrow was to be my wedding, and today – or well, a couple hundred todays back – I was informed about it.” Maria shook her head in disbelief. “It’s not like this, I swear! It was arranged behind my back!” he exclaimed, her expression softening slightly. “I didn’t have a single say,” he sighed. “I cannot even find my bride, although she’s in this estate. Can you believe? She took a couple other girls by the same name, and my uncles – ” Arthur stopped abruptly, her arms shaking as she laughed, deeply and abundantly so, eventually even needing to rest her back against the tree as not to fall. “What’s so hilarious?” “You are!” she answered, few tears escaping her eyes. Maria brushed them off with the top of her hand. “And you didn’t tell me all this time? It could have been a clue to breaking this curse!” Arthur averted his gaze – and ever so observant, she followed him, eventually going even as far as to lean down and stare at him from below, a smile never leaving her lips. “Or… Perhaps there was some reason for this state of affairs?” she prompted giddily, already half-knowing the answer. His hand on the nape of his neck, a faint blush came onto his cheeks. “Perhaps, indeed.” “And what reason was it?” Maria asked, straightening her back a little. “I believe I’ve given you more than enough clues.” “I want to hear you say it.”

Wind played in the tree crowns, the sun hanging dangerously low. “Perhaps… I might have started to think I wouldn’t mind spending this eternity with you, Maria,” he mumbled, his head beginning to spin.

Arthur woke up in his very own bed, his ears ringing. Of course, he should have known better - yet, it was too late for it. Still somewhat drowsy, he got up and began to hastily dress himself, fully aware that Maria was somewhere in the mansion, in the very same state. He confessed – and he would get to answer in return? Unthinkable! He needed to find out soon. The door to his room opened, the very same old servant peaking inside. “Young master?” the man mused, visibly surprised. “Your uncles wanted to excha –” “Yes, yes, a few words, a wedding, yada, yada,” Arthur cut him off, frantically buttoning up a mere minimum appropriate amount of buttons of his shirt. He stormed out of the room. “Young master! The wedding! It is today!” the servant shouted after him, but to no avail, Arthur being already far away, completely unable to think of anything but her.

As embarrassing as it was, it dawned on him he never once in the many months that had passed asked where Maria lived, her whereabout thus being a mystery to him. In any other case, he’d ask Vic for assistance, her scent usually having stuck to his clothes by the end of the day… In such a case, however, he was lost, and lost he rushed through the mansion, no staff being able to tell him where his particular Maria could be. Lacking any other clue, he stepped out into the courtyard, planning to spend even the entire day at the swing where they met. “Arthur!” He turned around – and there she was, running down the stairs extending from the balcony above, dressed still in her nightgown, her hair in utter disarray… Although he couldn’t help thinking it was lovely, no less. Maria showing no intention of slowing down, he opened his arms, the woman throwing herself into them. They tumbled to the ground, and he barely managed to catch a breath, the one he loved sealing his lips with hers in a rushed sort of kiss. Too little, too slow, too sweet, Arthur reckoned as they parted, his hand stroking her back lovingly. Their foreheads touching, he felt her fingers toy with the very top button of his shirt, his mind finding it less unusual than it should, perhaps, the notion that it would be all forgotten come morning still residing within his thoughts…

“Maria!” somebody called from the balcony. They froze. “Wait until the evening, for the love of god! You’re getting married to this man today! At least get a room!” The couple looked at each other in disbelief. “Today?!” they asked at the same time. “Today!” the servant exclaimed, finally catching up to Arthur. Wheezing heavily, he leaned on the door, sweat having come over his forehead. “The venue… Your uncles wanted to… Discuss… The venue… Last… Preparations…” he forced out of himself, yet was forgotten again, Arthur staring at Maria. “So you kept some secrets as well?” he teased, his bride laughing. “Partially. I did not know which Maria was to be married.”

Tag List: @cheese-ception , @kisara-16, @nad-zeta, @rikumorimachisgirl @bestbryn , @ichigoamamiya If you want to be tagged for my works, please, do let me know :D Please, specify fandoms as well.

#arthur conan doyle #ikevam arthur #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevam #ikemen vampire #ikemen series #my ff #my writing

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Captain Bucheon 03

Warnings: strong language

Word count: 5.9K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica

<-- Previous - Next -->

Third: Saving is Caring

“Lee Nari!”

Someone was shouting your name but you couldn't tell who exactly because the entire corridor you were residing on - the forsaken fifth floor, also the top floor of the building without an elevator - was flooded with girls. They were rushing to the opposite direction you were heading to, and you frowned deeply at anyone who made even the slightest brush against you - or your chest.

“Come to room number 501!” they shouted again.

“As if,” you scoffed to yourself and dodged one hand that was about to land on your breast.

“Aish, I was gonna try if they were actually real,” you heard the girl whine but her voice got quickly blocked out by exciting squeals.

Finally managing to land in your room, you basically kicked the door open, pissed, to find Yuyeon preparing in front of her make-up mirror. Her eyes were shining and she seemed way too happy.

“What the hell is happening out there?” you grumbled, slamming the door shut with your foot to isolate yourself from the annoying squeals. “It looks like a sect or something.” You dropped your bag in the corner and threw yourself on the bed, needing the relief in your tired muscles.

Running had been taking its toll on you the past weeks, let alone your job was tiring mentally, as well. There hadn't been any slip-ups or issues anymore like last time for which you were eternally thankful. That one time - yeah, you weren't sure you could deal with that again.

“You are coming toooo!” squealed Yuyeon as well and was fast to drop the blusher on her messy table before standing and jumping over to your bed, making you fly up on the mattress too.

You whined again and tried to kick her off your bed but she climbed over you and wiggled her eyebrows at you, a cheeky glint leaving an unease in your tummy.

“We-” she leaned into your ear, “are going to watch porn.”

You gasped and pushed her off of you, pink rising up to your cheeks. “What? Are you nuts? Why would you watch-”

“C'mon, Nari,” giggled Yuyeon, sitting up properly to let you sit up as well. Her shirt slid off her shoulder and her bra strap was showing which made you reach up to bring the shirt back to its original place. “I know you've already experienced it all but-”

This time, a horrified gasp left your mouth and you were fast to shut her up with a: “I haven't experienced those things at all!”

She frowned, pouting. “But you made out with Baekhyun and you said he touched you-”

Your head was starting to spin as you shook it so violently. “No, no, no, don't bring that up. He stopped when he found out I'm a virgin and it doesn't even matter!!”

“But Nari, he is a grown up male that knows eeeeeverything there is to know about, you know, sex, and he was hot and -”

“Yuyeon, please,” you begged, hiding your face behind your palms. You felt attacked at the memories of you and Baekhyun being all touchy. “It isn't that exciting,” you tried but you knew it was a terrible, terrible lie.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don't have to come if you don't want to but it will be fun with all the girls. We can talk about boys and men and, I dunno, just enjoy.”

You pursed your lips, not so sure. A good rest was what you needed, NOT temptation. Let alone, you wouldn't be able to get Baekhyun out of your mind were you to watch stuff like that. When you were about to speak up, Yuyeon added:

“You know, ever since stuff happened, we didn't really go out like that anymore… I kind of miss fooling around with you and just going against the rules - although now we can't do it since we are old enough to be naughty, but despite that I just miss doing cheeky stuff with my bestie.”

It was heart-warming to see Yuyeon be honest with you. Even the fact that she mentioned Baekhyun was a step forward for neither of you mentioned him unless necessary. Yuyeon was tiptoeing around you for one year in order to give you time to get over the mess that the mentioned male did to you and then she grew accustomed to your indifference towards your surroundings. You didn't talk about it and she didn't want to pry too much, always listening to bits of your thoughts here and there.

Yuyeon didn't feel guilty for mentioning Baekhyun's name; if anything, she hoped that you got over it and wouldn't react to him too much. For her, of course, Baekhyun was still on the “hated people” side like Chul. But he was also your ex and you were talking about girl stuff. Exciting stuff. Mature stuff. Baekhyun's name had to be mentioned for he was the whole package in the past.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that,” you murmured, averting your gaze. Her knees were bent, her skin showing as her shorts had ridden up. “We should start getting back on the track, right?”

The corners of Yuyeon's lip lifted in a small, encouraging smile. “Yes. So how about starting with the porn?”

You laughed out loud, smacking her thigh loudly, making her wince. “Okay, okay, just because it's you!”

“No, it's 'cause you are super curious as well!” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “How it's all done and stuff.” She was growing red in her face, but her blush looked pretty and made her even more youthful. It made you grin wider and you shook your head at her and also stuck your tongue out, playing the silly one.

“You talk too much! Go finish your make-up, you're friggin ugly,” you rolled your eyes in mock and climbed off your bed, ready to change into more comfortable clothes.

When her slap landed on your butt, you abruptly turned around, glaring at her but both of you eventually giggled. Yes, this will be the best way to get your mind off stuff and hopefully have a good girls' night.

The room 501 was crammed with girls and pink and magazines and make-up and perfumes and smartphones with instagrams open. They were all chatting excitedly while one of the girls, you presumed the person living in this room, was behind her laptop, searching the websites that already screamed porn.

Both you and Yuyeon plopped down on the bed, shimmying yourselves between two girls who immediately took you in, wanting to socialize. That part was a little painful on your side as you weren't looking for new friends; especially not the ones who kept commenting on your chest and choice of clothing.

“Isn't it hard to run for you?”

“Don't people stare a lot?”

“Has anyone touched without asking?”

“How do you buy your bras? Korea is full of A cups and B cups are already considered huge anyway!”

You sighed and ensured the very concerned girl that you were able to get the cup of your size just fine - though, only in a few shops that were designed for ladies that were more blessed. You definitely couldn't just walk into any shop of your liking.

“Okay, girls, it's about to start!” shouted one and smashed the space on her keyboard, starting the forsaken video.

Everyone went silent right away, almost waiting with bated breaths for what was about to go down.

With a small frown, you were focusing on the small story they were trying to fool you with, immediately presenting a beautiful woman with blue eyes, of course. The man, though, wasn't a catch at all - not for you, at least. Some girls' eyes sparkled at the sight of the main male character and the way he was tanned and incredibly muscly.

“He looks like he could crash her bones,” whispered eagerly Yuyeon into your ear while not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

You hummed; the more it went on the more distrubed you started to feel. It was all incredibly bizarre and their love story was faced paced.

Founding yourself zoning out and blocking out the scenes that quickly grew heated and, well, disturbing to you, you spotted a calendar of models on the desk. It wasn't too far and you grabbed it quickly, not wanting to be in the line of vision of other girls who were literally drooling while hiding their faces behind their hands at the rated scenes.

Taking the calendar, you listed through what seemed like an endless amount of sexy pictures of firefighters in Bucheon. Just as expected, they were either shirtless or pants-less or both. Thank God they had underwear. You didn’t deny it; they were so handsome it almost seemed questionable. What were they like in real life? Were they really as passionate about their work as it said on the calendar? And, more importantly, were they really as handsome as the pictures were portraying them to be?

You kept listing through the pages, sometimes stopping to read. When you spotted a familiar face though, you almost fainted. On it, the month of May, was none other than Baekhyun. A black leather jacket was on him, underneath he was shirtless with his dark blue ripped jeans low on his hips, red supreme underwear poking out to tease the eager eye. The way they were hugging his thighs had a strong effect on you. As he had his thumb (the one with the mole on it) causally hooked in the belt loop hole, it brought your attention to the thin, and what looked like very veiny, skin that disappeared in the underwear. He had lean muscle that wouldn’t intimidate a girl. In fact, it would affect her heavily. You noticed a few more moles on his abdomen, the ripped muscles making the skin on it exceptionally tight. Saliva collected in your mouth and you quickly swallowed, averting your gaze to the upper part of his face. His hair was styled like a rock star’s with a comma hanging over his forehead, his dark eyes glaring at the camera, charcoal black eyeliner making them seem deadly. His lips were parted ever so slightly, scarcely revealing his front teeth, and your gaze hooked on them just a little while longer than they should have. You remembered the moments he would bite them. When he would lick them. When he would smile with them; or kiss you with them. He looked stunningly hot and dangerous. You couldn’t believe you once had this man to yourself.

You had heart palpitations.

Slapping Yuyeon’s arm, you tried to get her attention. You needed to vent, otherwise you’d suffocate. Yuyeon was too preoccupied with the disturbing video playing which was why the girl sitting on your other side spoke up excitedly into your ear:

“Oh my god, that’s the captain of the police, Byun Baekhyun! My oldest brother went to the same school with him.” She stared at the picture. “He is so fucking hot.” She was basically salivating over the picture. With her words, you felt something move within you. What it was you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like it. It made your chest tighten up and your mood dampen. “There are many hot guys in that calendar but Baekhyun has his own charm. I’d go for him any minute.”

Not sparing any more time with the picture, you harshly turned over the page, revealing a mediocre looking police officer. He was very handsome, thanks to plastic surgery, but after seeing Baekhyun, all the males seemed dull and boring. Despite your wild thoughts, you muttered: “He’s okay, I guess.”

She nudged you with her elbow. “C‘mon, I can see the redness in your cheeks,” she giggled and just in that moment there was a loud moan coming from the laptop. You felt yourself burning up even more and you squirmed on the bed, warmth pooling in your belly. These feelings were so foreign to you.

“You’re friends with Oh Sehun, right?” She was adamant about talking to you. So you nodded in response. “Well, he is good friends with Baekhyun. Yeonhee, the one who lives in this room, got the calendar from him. She likes Sehun but I feel like she has secondary intentions. If she could get Baekhyun she would not hesitate to go after him,” she giggled into your ear just when another moan resembled the room.

You sighed. “Sehun is a good guy, you know?” you muttered to her and looked at her huge eyes, the way they seemed dilated. “I hope you can tell her not to toy with him.” You looked back down, now a doctor on the cover. A doctor?! “Or else she will deal with me and that won’t be nice.”

The girl went silent. Maybe you came off as rude but you didn’t have many friends; nor were you looking for more. So if someone played with someone that belonged to you, they could rest assured you wouldn’t let it slip. “Do you perhaps know Baekhyun?”

And there it went again. Silently, you cursed your luck. This man seemed to be everywhere you went and mentioned by anyone you talked to recently. You never realized just what power Baekhyun had over this city. Realizing you probably took more time to answer, you quickly shrugged your shoulders. “Just a little bit. He is quite older than us so I doubt he has interest in us, kids.” It hurt to say, but you knew it was the closest to the truth. Baekhyun made the age difference between him and you crystal clear and even used it as a barrier between the two of you. Even though he wanted you, it was a crucial reason for him to stop moving forward with you. Or more like, he wanted to take things slow. You scoffed out loud.

“Well, I guess he just hasn't met the right one. The young ones are always better than the older ones. The older guys are just too afraid to admit it,” she told you and leaned further away, most probably wanting to end the conversation. She must have noticed your defensive, indifferent position and figured she wouldn't get a juicy talk with you.

That was fine by you. Because right now your head was so full of him; you couldn’t produce a single comprehensive sentence without giving yourself away. You so wished to meet him again and talk to him. You so wished things would have gone differently between the two of you.

There were now harsh pantings in the background and you groaned inwardly. You slapped Yuyeon’s thigh to finally get her attention. At the impact, she jumped up and glared at you. “I’m leaving,” you mouthed, not wanting to wait for her reply, but she stopped you abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered in your ear, but the disturbing noises were blocking out each of her words.

You only managed to nod quickly before scooting off the bed and, while ignoring the curious stares of the other girls, you quickly made your way out, desperately searching for fresh air that would hopefully help you clear your foggy mind.

Once out in the corridor, you inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feelings in your body. How could you become so easily affected by a simple picture? It was the stupid background noise, added your brain and you rolled your eyes. You needed to let out your frustration and even though it was hard to believe, you decided you would make good use of it.

You would go running. For the first time. By yourself.

When you reached the running track, the main headlights of the field were already turned off, throwing the space into a darkness lit up by surrounding street lamps. That was good enough, as you seeked some kind of hiding. Deciding to pour your frustrations into your challenge in jogging, you padded over to the running field, feeling the ground softer under your running shoes. There was a group of boys wrapping up a football game while a lone man, a student, was making laps, unbothered by the minimal lighting.Without paying anymore attention to your surroundings, you slowly increased your walking into a light jog, not wanting to strain yourself too much.

Your hair was flowing behind you in a high ponytail while the remnants of winter were biting into your skin, making your cheeks and nose red. You tried to focus on your breathing, wanting to make sure you wouldn't mess it up and therefore increase your stamina but it was fruitless as your mind immediately wandered off to the picture of Baekhyun in that calendar. It effectively quickened your heartbeat and you grew warm all over your body.

After two laps though, you became quickly tired and out of breath, your lungs on fire. There was an uncomfortable, sharp feeling in your side, the pain dull but making moving difficult nonetheless. The man who had been running the whole time without stopping didn't seem to break a single sweat the whole time.

“Oh, isn't that Lee?” you heard the boys talking to each other as they finally managed to clear up the field.

“The one with the boobs?”

You were fast to roll your eyes, angry tears burning up in your eyes at their careless words. Screw them all. Instead of staying on the field, you went inside the gym next to the field to get some water and try to calm down. Even though it was cold outside, a cold drink would hopefully help quieten the small rage inside of you. People like those were the ones you despised. They didn’t know anything about you and, naturally, you didn’t know anything about them. Yet, you were constantly under their scrutiny and sexualized in more than one way.

“Idiots,” you murmured to yourself, your skin heating up at the change of temperature once you entered the small building.

As you were filling up your bottle with the cold water, you heard the jerks entering the gym as well. They were laughing and joking amongst each other, their throaty laughs reaching your sensitive ears.

Cursing under your breath, you finished filling the bottle and turned to leave, just to stand face to face with all of them. They were grouped up on you, smirking.

Without sparing them another glance, you moved to walk around them but someone grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards, your back hitting the wall next to the water filter. It took you off guard and you managed to hit your head, too, and you scrunched up your face, hissing. “You piece of shit,” you spat angrily, your rage growing more when you noticed the dude’s hungry eyes on your chest.

“You surely are feisty! We heard so much from the seniors about you,” one of them spoke up, his eyes barely visible as they were shaped like slits, thin like pupils of a cat in broad daylight. “We all know you like to go against the rules.” A round of snickers resonated the otherwise empty space and you felt your heartbeat pick up in fear.

“Okay,” was your blunt answer and you once again wanted to step aside but the same jerk grabbed your arm, bringing you back. You gritted your teeth.

“You ain’t leaving just yet, little kitten,” he murmured darkly and this time, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to escape. “We won’t do anything bad. Just give us a little show of what you’re hiding underneath that hoodie of yours.”

If someone was living in your body right now, they’d know in an instant something terrible was happening, for your legs were shaking like a jelly, becoming one with the asphalt and therefore making you unable to move. Despite that, you scoffed, stubbornly insisting on showing your confident side. Those idiots wanted a reaction from you, but you wouldn’t give in. “Then turn on some porn. Though I’m not sure you’re ready to see that either with your tiny, premature, out-of-control dicks,” you said in a levelled voice, cutting each word off to emphasize the meaning so that their small brains would understand. “You ain’t shit,” you added when you saw some dudes growing red.

“You little bitch-“

There was an unexpected shadow that swooshed past and just in that second, too many things happened at the same time; a familiar scent hitting your nose; a sound of skin slapping skin reverberated the empty space followed by a groan. “She said to leave her, so respect a lady’s wish,” a low growl reached your ears and you almost fainted when you spotted short blonde hair and a handsome profile. Even from the side you could detect he was glaring, a stern gaze bringing out his authority and dominance that would make anyone quiver and render into submission. “Just a tip for the future if you want to get your dick wet,” added mockingly Baekhyun. He was staring down the group of young students for a little longer, surprisingly none of them making a fuss, before Baekhyun looked down at you, your shocked expression making your eyes much bigger than they usually were. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait as he started to walk ahead, only a couple of steps later looking behind his shoulder to double check whether you were following him or not.

Your legs had a mind on their own when they moved after Baekhyun, but your heart was beating crazily fast, the unexpected presence of the only male who was able to make you speechless and make you go crazy at the same time still stunning you. Why was he there? How did he know where you were? Oh, was it because you wished to meet him again? If so, then you wished all your wishes would become true this fast.

He led you outside of the gym, the annoyed voices of the boys barely reaching you now that they were out of ear shot. Cold air hit the dried sweat on your skin, making you shiver. Baekhyun stopped abruptly when he reached the track again and turned to look at you with an unreadable gaze. His heavy breathing was condensing into small puffs, his nose a little red. The chilly air biting his cheeks made his eyes water. You couldn’t stop staring at him and at the way he looked in that moment.

“You should-“

“Thank you,” you muttered at the same time as he spoke up.

Both of you went quiet right away and awkwardness creeped into the space between the two of you. Growing red, you averted your gaze, looking at the ground and hoping your wild heart beat would calm down.

“You should have been more careful,” he finally told you quietly, ignoring your word of gratefulness. There was a slight scolding undertone in his voice. “Those jerks are little kids who think with their dicks.”

You grew even more red at his words. Baekhyun must have heard their stupid request. Your throat restricted and your heart once again started to beat loudly. “I would have been okay,” you insisted. “But thank you anyway.” You meant it. You really did.

Baekhyun saw you averting your gaze again and he took the time to observe you. You were still too young, but he definitely noted the way your facial features matured, with each passing year turning you into more of a grown woman while leaving the teen girl behind. Your hair was long and it seemed you lost some weight in your cheeks. He couldn’t imagine how much of a hard time you were having the whole time he wasn't by your side. And then you had perverts following you around.

He cursed mentally, hating the simplest idea of anyone imaging you in a more mature way than you let on to a plain eye. Those bastards should have been thankful he didn’t actually use fists as he so wished. Because when they asked you to undress, he swore white spots of anger were blinding him, his emotions a wild hurricane of rage and hatred. The only thing moving him forward was to protect you even though you would have hated it.

“Just be careful next time,” he added gently, his features softening.

You looked up at him upon detecting the tone of his voice. “What are you even doing here?” Just then you took notice of his outfit and you recognized it. He was the person running when you arrived. He had been here the entire time, but you were swimming in sweet obliviousness. And just like that, the picture of him in the calendar popped up in your mind, making you avert your eyes right away. Heat pinked your cheeks which Baekhyun mistook for the coldness biting your cheeks.

“I come here to run,” he told you in a somber voice. “And we also work out here with Sehun so if you think I followed you here, you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t think you followed me here,” you retorted, wanting to roll your eyes.

“Well, on the contrary, I didn’t know you run too,” he said, a hint of tease present in his voice, though he didn’t smile. Showing his relief of you communicating with him could be a strategic bad step on his side.

You sighed at the mention of running and the reason behind it. “I’m doing a race at the festival so I have to practice. I’m not enjoying it and I’m not doing it out of my own will.”

“Then why would you do it if you don’t want to do it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m in the student council,” you replied almost in a whine. “They asked me and I couldn’t say no!” You threw your arms around, making it sound like a big deal. And for you, it was a big deal. You didn’t like how you were easily pushed around.

Baekhyun nodded, a small smile stretching his lips when he saw your comprehension. Sweet university life. “You must be very liked by everyone.”

You froze at that. That wasn’t true. How would you tell your ex the reason everyone was all over you was because you had huge tits and you were friends with Chul? “It’s not like that…”

Baekhyun nodded, noting your discomfort but deciding against questioning it. He didn’t think he was anywhere near the position to stick his nose into your business. For all he knew, he’d scare you away like that time in the bar but, frankly, he didn’t even utter a single word that night to give you a reason for your abrupt fleeing.

“So you run here often, huh,” he heard you say and then saw you shuffling your feet, the small stones of the track field rustling under them.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied almost breathily. There was an upcoming question hanging in the air but he already forbade himself to hope.

You bit your lip harshly, bringing Baekhyun’s attention to the action. You were gnawing on it and you felt your body and mind betraying you. You were supposed to be mad at him. You despised this man standing in front of you so why was your heart beating frantically and, at his gentle tone, butterflies fluttering in your tummy? You felt warm just by his presence. He saved you. Yes, he didn’t even touch you, didn’t even take your hand like they do it in the movie. However, you witnessed the rage, the anger, the hatred, the need to fight but going against it so as not to cause problems. He cared about you, and he was still mature about it.

“Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around,” you muttered eventually, causing Baekhyun to deflate invisibly. An eager question cut through his mind: and when do you come to run here? I don’t like that you run here alone.

“Where do you stay? I’ll take you home,” he spoke up casually.

“I live in the dorms, it’s no biggie,” you shrugged just when the group of boys flooded out of the gym, spotting you and Baekhyun. They were noisy once again and immediately took advantage of the situation when they shouted:

“If it isn’t the love birds! We thought you’d be home and fucking her by now but guess who didn’t get their dick wet now?” They laughed in unison, finding their words funny and mocking.

You pulled a disgusted face, though you reddened in embarrassment at their words, and looked up at Baekhyun who was glaring at them again. “Come, I’ll walk you to your dorms,” he muttered so that only you could hear and this time, he took a hold of your hand, his skin soft and a little dry in your sweaty palm. You were shocked at how quickly your hand clasped around his.

Cat calls reached the both of you as the boys approached you. “Woohoo, they are about to do it-“

Baekhyun was fast. Before you realized the warmth of his hand leaving yours, you heard a loud snap, his fist landing with the dude’s face. You squealed, covering your mouth in shock and just like that, Baekhyun had professionally put the lad down, having both his arms locked behind his back. It vastly made you remember when he did a similar move with your brother in his office at the police station, and chills ran down your spine.

Right. Baekhyun first arrested you, and then your brother who was still in jail until now. Baekhyun lied to you to get closer to you. Right. Right, right, right.

“Don’t ever even imagine her in your filthy mind,” Baekhyun’s voice thundered through the space. It kept growing more distant as you realized the hasty steps you were making backwards before you turned around and started speed walking out of the field and towards the dorms. Angry tears blocked out your vision and you quickly tried to rub your eyes, annoyed that you always let your tough stance sway whenever he was around. He dared to be kind to you. He dared to be soft to you. He dared to-

“Nari! Wait!”

Baekhyun was jogging towards you and your breath hitched in your throat, hearing his fast approaching steps. “Nari!”

Sooner than later he caught your wrist and wanted to stop you but you surprised him. You were now far off the field, not a single soul around. Your palm landed on his cheek and Baekhyun’s face snapped to his right side. “I hate you!” You shouted shakily, more tears spilling down your cheeks, the snot out of your nose. You were a mess. “I hate everything you put me through, Byun Baekhyun! You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?! I loved you!” You shouted again, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Baekhyun slowly turned his head back, your slap still stinging on his cheek. His eyes were wide but he knew exactly what was happening. “C’mon. Don’t hold back. Let it out. Hit me again,” he encouraged in a low tone that made you frustrated even more.

You were breathing raggedly and pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. He could have easily fought you, he could easily stand still, not budging under you, but he let you. He knew you needed this to finally let go of your suppressed feelings and, hopefully, of the heavy past he made you go through. “You fucking liar! You fooled me, played with me, made me dream of something beautiful just for you to crash it! You ruined my family! I hate you! I hate you so much! You make me go crazy with hatred!!!”

Another strong push. He was surprised at how strong you actually were; when emotions spoke, people could be either extremely vulnerable or extremely strong. You seemed to be the opposite, for speaking up about your emotions made you scarily strong. “I hate that you made an idiot out of me! You fooled me and I trusted you the whole time! You locked up my brother! You did it in front of my eyes!! As if I didn’t matter shit to you! You were so fast to let me go when you thought I’m the criminal! That was all my worth to you!” you hiccuped, more cries taking over you as the painful memories kept swimming in front of your eyes, making you relive the emotions, the scenes. Those memories were blinding you and Baekhyun just let you open the Pandora box. You were breaking down.

It hit you too, that you never talked about your feelings. You couldn’t talk for a long while after being in shock at the events, and then you became one with ignorance towards your own emotions.

You took a deep breath and pushed him again just for you to lose your strength that was fueled by deep anger. Baekhyun couldn’t even pretend to step back. Your palms were still, pressing against his sturdy chest but you couldn’t make him move anymore. You were crying now, your voice shaking and your eyes still squeezed shut. “What did I do to deserve this… when all I did was love you honestly, purely,” you wailed, your voice sounding almost like a wolf’s howl in the empty streets of the campus. “I was just seventeen…”

Baekhyun was quiet the whole time, emotions of guilt eating him away just like they had been for the past year. His own heart was in pain and he knew how hurt you were but seeing you like this made his heart split into two. You were a complete, utter mess.

You didn’t know how much time passed without any of you speaking. The only thing you grew to realize was that you were in a tight embrace, the arms of your ex-lover protectively around you as his palm was drawing soothing circles into your back. His breathing seemed much more steady compared to yours, his scent filling your senses with comfort and familiarity you had been looking for ever since you met him a year ago. Your nose was on fire from crying, skin harshly clashing with the cold night air, but Baekhyun's presence made everything seem bearable. Even if it was just for a few minutes that you could pretend all was okay.

Squirming a bit, you moved away from him and he was fast to drop his arms, not wanting to upset you more. Your hand came up to wipe the tears and snot away, not caring you probably looked very un-ladylike in front of your eternal crush. “Leave.” You told him and turned around, heading towards the direction of your dorms. Your head was pounding, making you groan gently at the discomfort.

“Nari, wait,” he tried, making a step after you with a reached out hand but you turned your head as you walked, dismissing him with a single glance.

“I don’t want to listen right now.”

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A/N: sorry it took me a while to update. I hope some people were waiting and looking forward to this chapter even though it took me time ❤️ let me know your thoughts please? ^^

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo #CB #mywritings

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itadoryryoken · 3 years

Text

pyramid head x soft reader

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it’s eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that ‘Hell’ could look so…Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still…Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this…Everything…It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren’t sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone’s straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish’s head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness…It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn’t much, but if he had to, he’d rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul’s beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper’s actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold’ she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren’t surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn’t able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!’ she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor’s camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!’she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn’t exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You’re a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!’

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother’s lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone’s skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn’t help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard…

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

“H-Hey, u-uhm…Need some help?” she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. “Okay, uhm…I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I’ll go fetch it and I’ll come back for you. Don’t move.” she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. “…I’m sorry, ignore me, I’m an idiot.”she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. “Okay, I’m here, I found the vaseline! Let’s try to get you out of here.” Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can’t balance myself with both hands occupied, and I’d rather not fall.” she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost…Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

“Ouchie…” she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. “Are you okay?” she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. “O-Oh…! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you’re bleeding too! Hold up, let me help.” she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. “It may sting a bit, and I’m really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon.” her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then…“This is grandma’s marigold ointment. It’s really good, and it smells nice.” she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. “Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you’ll feel better very soon!” her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so…Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn’t matter how many hardships she’s been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh’ to its mamma sheep.

He couldn’t allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn’t understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

“Th-This sword is so heavy…H-How can you carry this around like that…?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore…Y-You really need a massage, I’m sure.” she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. “Hehe…You’re really strong. I’m embarrassed now.” she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn’t hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn’t feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

“O-Oh…! Thank you so much! You’re really kind! I really appreciate this…I-I know it probably doesn’t matter much to you, since you’ll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors…But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!” her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn’t talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth’ and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor’s camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. “Oh, but he wasn’t that bad. In fact, he’s much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!” okay, she’s lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she’s always been a bit…Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers’ camp. “How the hell did you manage to survive?!” they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. “Oh, you see…I found the hatch.” she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time…He seemed kinda…Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer’s camp, calling out the lonely one’s name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them…

“Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there…I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial…Here, this is a marshmallow. I don’t think you’ve had many before…Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in…So I hope this will make your day a bit better!” Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand…He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn’t wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

“Ah…! You liked it, didn’t you? Well…Next time, I promise I’ll give you more!” she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn’t talk, silence took over them - It wasn’t an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. “W-Well…I’ll guess I’ll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!” she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn’t out of fear or anything negative…It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it…She appreciated him.

“Thank you.” she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

📷

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years

Note

I just read the angst you posted and It gave me chills woman! It was written beautifully, and I'm sitting here shook. Its got me hanging and I'm not the one that requested it but could you maybe do a part 2 to the angst like a make up or anything you think would happen?

Oh, I can definitely make a part 2! So, I’m just gonna have this as a separate side-story, so my angst fans can just ignore that this exists even if it’s a direct continuation of the story (much like how I pretend the sequels don’t exist).

That’s Not How We See You (Poly!Lost Boys x Reader) fic

Warning: slight angst

Word Count: 1552

“That’s not how we see you.” The words fell from Davids lips into the otherwise silence of the room. You stared at him. You didn’t believe him. You knew better than to argue. David and you could go all night back and forth about this. His hooks were in deep and he would refuse to remove them. You’d have to tug them out yourself. You’d have to challenge him.

“Really? Prove it.” You snapped and prodded his chest. He snatched your wrist, and held it tightly in his hand. You were getting cocky, and you knew it. If you weren’t fighting, your tone probably would’ve earned you a spot on the bed already. You were giving him an unachievable task, and, eventually, he would give up. Then, you’d be rid of them.

He didn’t say a word, and you stared at him. You thought that was probably best. Words weren’t enough. Not when it had been words that had hurt you. You needed an action, a reassurance that they truly felt that way. You frowned, and you looked into all of their faces. Paul was staring at you, silently begging you with his eyes. You knew the look well. It was the same look he gave you whenever he wanted something, like a kiss or a hug. He wanted you to just drop this and kiss him already.

Your eyes went to Marko next. His expression was completely unreadable. It was rare that it happened when he was with you. Usually, his face would be alive with a grin, and only his eyes would have a hint of unreadable mischief. As if he knew all the worlds secrets, and maybe, if you were lucky, he’d spare you one. But at the moment, you couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head and behind that sea of curls. Part of you wanted to ask, but you pushed it away. You were breaking up with them, getting rid of them.

Then, your eyes went to Dwaynes. His gaze was so intense it was hard to look at him. Fights with him never lasted long. He’d let you yell, scream, and even cry. He’d take every bit of it, silently staring and letting you get out whatever you needed to. The moment you were done, he’d wrap you up in his arms, hold you, and promise to fix it. He liked to fix things, and you knew he wanted to fix this. To grab you and hold you and promise whatever he needed to. Hell, he may even promise to never drink from you again.

You thought about that possibility for a moment. It was a good promise. A good punishment. They’d never drink from you again and you could see if the five of you would really last. But, the idea of you breaking up later? Of them deciding that they couldn’t date you without drinking from you? You wouldn’t put yourself through the same betrayal twice. It’d rip whatever was left of you to shreds, so you didn’t suggest it. This was Davids puzzle to solve anyways. As long as there was blood running through your veins, it wouldn’t change the fact that, at some point, they’d considered you a meal.

He was being deathly quiet, and, while his eyes were on you, his mind was somewhere else. He was considering something, making a decision. You didn’t know how long it’d take, and you almost thought about kicking them out and giving them the night to think it over. Before you could, Davids lips parted.

“Be one of us.” He said, and the boys turned their gazes from you to him. There were mixes of confusion and shock on all of their faces. Davids eyes were the only ones that didn’t leave your face. You furrowed your brows and stared at him, unsure of what he meant. You were already an honorary ‘Lost Boy’. You’d been one the moment you’d accepted the earring. Hell, you’d been one the moment you’d gotten on the back of Davids bike and were still with them the next night.

“What?” You asked, and you watched as Davids eyes finally left yours. He looked at each of the boys, and you watched whatever silent telepathy they had take place. After a moment, they all seemed to agree. On what, you were still trying to figure out. Paul gave you an excited smile, the first one you had seen on his face that night. Marko copied him, and his eyes were alive once more. Dwayne, well, looked mostly the same. But his eyes had softened. Now, you could barely stand to look at him for a much different reason.

“Turn.” David said, and your eyes widened. He couldn’t really be offering what you thought he was offering. Could he? “You’ll be ours forever, and you’ll be one of us. On the same playing field as us.” He said, and you stared. Not in waiting, but now in disbelief. He was. He was offering you eternity. You had been trying to rip his hooks out and somehow he had found a way to dig them even deeper. You had to give him credit.

You thought about it. If you were a vampire, you automatically were no longer a meal. But what if they decided they didn’t like you as much the moment you turned? Then, you’d be stuck with them. As a monster. Forever. It was terrifying, and part of you wanted to refuse.

You had never been this insecure about your relationship with the boys before. Yesterday, you knew that they probably would’ve given you the world if you asked. Now, you were thinking like you had a few months ago before they’d asked you to be theirs. Stuck in a loop of ‘do they really like me?’

But one of the things he was offering stuck out. You’d had your fair share of toxic relationships in the past. It was all about a power imbalance. When you were told the boys were vampires, you almost thought there was something wrong with you. Why did you always choose boys that were always above you in some way? You knew that it wasn’t the case with them. They’d never use their strength to hurt you, never play too many mind tricks on you, and they’d never do anything without your permission. But the fact that they could had always remained. You knew David liked power, and you knew he’d still be in control once you turned. That was just the way he was. But that power imbalance? The separation of human and vampire? He was giving it up. They all were. And they seemed excited about it.

You looked at all of them once again, and you let out a long sigh. It was a big step. You’d felt like they’d just got down on one knee and offered you a ring. In a strange way, you supposed they had.

“C’mon, take a chance, sugar. We could go flying, hunt-” Paul had been quiet for too long, and he’d quickly started to ramble. Marko cut him off with an elbow to the ribs, and he stopped and rubbed his side. Flying. Hunting. He said it like it’d be a date. You became a little wary. You’d never thought about drinking blood yourself, and you didn’t know how you felt about it. It was all so much. You felt like someone had tossed your emotions in a blender, and you weren’t thinking straight. It was why you said,

“Let me sleep on it.” And some of the excitement drained from their eyes. David didn’t look half as disappointed as the others, but you knew he probably thought this would happen. To your surprise, he didn’t argue. You supposed that his goal had been to keep you. As long as you were considering it, you were still his. That was good enough for him. As if to confirm this, he cupped your jaw and leaned in to kiss your cheek. You let him, and he seemed more pleased than ever. A hint of a smile had even formed on his lips.

The boys left you in your room, and you threw yourself back onto your bed with a huff. They’d each followed David lead, and had given you nothing more than a kiss on the cheek. Paul had whispered, “See you tomorrow.” In your ear, and you hadn’t corrected him. You would see them tomorrow. To give them your answer. Whatever that was, you had yet to decide. You stared at your ceiling, and thought it over. A vampire. You could be a vampire.

You’d have impossible levels of strength, mental abilities, and the ability to fly. Among other things the boys didn’t care to show or tell you about. But you’d have to give up the sun, move out of your house, and drink blood. You frowned. It seemed like the pros weighed just as much as the cons. You rolled onto your side and decided to sleep, but one last thought had tinkered it’s way into your mind. A pro that you hadn’t considered. You’d have the boys. Your four beautiful boys. Forever. It made a hint of a smile come to your face, and then you sunk into the depths of sleep.

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader

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tickle-bugs · 3 years

Text

Reignite

Summary: Dean stumbles--or is cosmically shoved, more like--back upon the largest loose end in his life. This is one knot he won’t leave untied.

Took me a year (couldn’t resist the dad joke) but here’s my SPNFluffsgiving fic! I ended up writing two fics and frankensteining them together because I wasn’t happy with either on their own, and I think, all things considered, it turned out well!!! Tried something new with the present-tense vs my usual past tense, which was very, very hard for some reason. Anyways, enjoy!

Spoilers for Supernatural episode 15 x 19 through the finale ahead!

“What’s eating ya?” Bobby takes a swig of his beer and eyes Dean sideways.

“Nothin’.”

“We have all of eternity to sit here. Don’t think I won’t.” Bobby flicks the bottle cap at him and chuckles when it bounces off his shoulder.

“I like it here. It’s nice. Quiet.”

“But…?” Bobby looks at him in that very Bobby-like way, that strange blend of impatience and kindness that leaves no room to doubt that he cares.

“Something is just...wrong? I dunno. I felt a little better when Sam got here, but I still have this weight on my chest. Like something is missing. I dunno.” Dean taps his fingers against the beer bottle and slumps down in his chair. He heaves a breath that gets stuck somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“You’re saying ‘I don’t know’ a lot for someone who seems to know exactly what’s buggin’ ya.” Bobby raises his beer in a silent ‘I’ll drink to that’.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be talking to you,” Dean grumbles, kicking a pebble off of the Roadhouse porch. Bobby whips off his hat and smacks Dean’s arm, then his leg, then his stomach which really wasn’t cool.

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry! Back off!” Dean raises his arms to shield from Bobby’s wrath, biting back a comment about Bobby being a crotchety old man.

“Think about it. Who’s the only person you haven’t seen since you made it here?” Bobby makes a little bird with his hands and raises his eyebrows as if Dean’s first thought wasn’t of teary blue eyes.

“Cas is in the Empty, Bobby. He’s gone. It just swallowed him like--like nothing.” Dean’s voice breaks and he knocks back his beer to hide it.

“Jack must have built this magic box wrong. You’re supposed to feel it when a loved one arrives.”

“What?”

“Cas is here, Dean. He helped put this all together.”

The world shrinks to a pinpoint. The beer bottle slips from Dean’s fingers and his attempt to catch it sends it soaring into the road, where it rolls far enough to qualify as a lost cause. The image of a teary Cas, seconds before destruction, grabs a swift and tight hold of the front of his mind.

I love you.

“Bobby-”

“Are you really gonna waste your breath arguing with me when I just told you that he’s out there? This may be heaven, but I can still kick your ass.” Bobby narrows his eyes at Dean.

Why does this feel like a goodbye?

Because it is.

“But-”

“Go after him, Dean. You made him wait this long already.” Bobby squeezes Dean’s shoulder and shakes him a little, fixing him with those kind-but-tough eyes. Dean sighs and rubs a hand over his face, hissing when cold metal pokes him in the eye.

Baby’s keyring dangles from his finger, clinking gently as it collides with his palm. He sighs and shoves it in his pocket, making sure to shake the little ring off of his finger.

Weird.

“Can’t escape what your heart wants.” Bobby gestures towards Dean’s hand with an infuriating little smirk, like he knows something Dean doesn’t.

“That doesn’t mean jack shit,” Dean grumbles.

“Sure, and I’m President Roosevelt.” Bobby rolls his eyes.

“Which one?”

“Teddy, obviously.” Bobby leans back in his seat with a chuckle. Dean scratches at his cheek and grunts when, once again, metal digs into his skin. Baby’s keys jingle menacingly at him, like a pushy set of windchimes, and they don’t budge when he tries to shake them away. He turns his hand upside-down and scrapes the keys off like a stubborn piece of gum, but they reappear in the other hand.

“What the fuck?” He holds them up to eye level and they sway in the breeze, jingling again. He drops them and they zoom right back into his hand, like a lame Mjolnir, and okay, someone has to be messing with him. He shakes them a few times to detect any evil (a foolproof method, in his opinion) and Baby’s car alarm starts blaring much louder than it should.

“Dean.”

“Alright, I’m going!” He trudges away from the porch, grumbling under his breath, and the car’s alarm shuts off with a pleasant chirp.

“Tell him I said hi!” Bobby waves and watches the Impala pull onto the open road, raising his beer until he disappears from Dean’s rearview.

…

Dean cuts the ignition and slides out of the Impala, squinting against the sudden warm breeze. It’s quiet out here. If it wasn’t for the constant tugging on his soul, like a bratty kid demanding attention, it would be nice. Peaceful, even.

He leans against the bridge railing and closes his eyes against the next gust of wind, this one much more powerful than the first. Everything in the vicinity rustles as the wind dances by. He leans his forehead against his hands and sighs.

What the hell would he even say?

There’s no manual for this, no prior experience or family legend to consult. Jesus, he’s like a teenager trying to apologize for standing up a date. He’d ditched Cas at the celestial prom, and now he has to face the music. No more asking Dad to leave early for the next hunt so he wouldn’t have to face whichever girl he dumped. Grown-ass men face their weird, divine love affairs with dignity, not revenge hookups in the girl’s locker room.

Highschool Dean would call Present Dean a bitch for even trying to chase after Cas.

Highschool Dean was a dick, anyway.

Okay, he needs a gameplan. Stay calm, cool, and collected--like he’s working a case. Cas doesn’t need to know about the butterflies rioting in his stomach. Dean would be smooth and chill. They’ll talk like adults--yeah, that’s it. Grown-ass men, and whatnot. He’d just send Cas a message on angel radio, he’d zip on down, and they’d be hunkydory--

“Hello, Dean.”

Shit.

He whips around, his throat already closing up in mutiny. Just seeing Cas is a punch in the gut--he looks just as Dean remembers, if not better. It’s as if not a day has passed since the Bunker, and god, Dean might not be qualified for this.

Cas smiles timidly as he steps forward, hands shoved awkwardly into his coat pockets. His head’s bowed, as if he’s in trouble, as if Dean would scold him for who fucking knows what, and his blood boils at the thought.

“Dean?” Cas tilts his head.

Something grips Dean, something powerful and terrifying in its ferocity. A force he doesn’t understand surges at the bounds of his body, welling up into his throat, his heart, his lungs. Tears spill from him at a terrifying rate but he’s numb and aching all at once. He’s shaking--no, trembling--and he pulls Cas into a kiss before he loses his nerve.

If he could quantify the triumph of nearly two decades of suffocating pining, he’d say it tastes like stale peppermint. He makes a mental note to lecture Cas about his choice in gum later—spearmint is obviously superior.

Dean pulls away when his gross, sticky hiccups start to interfere with the sweetness of the kiss. He feels disgusting but he couldn’t stop crying if he wanted to.

Definitely not one of his highlight moments.

“Cas,” he croaks. Cas, Cas, Cas, loops in his head, interfering with the static everything else he needs to say. A tumultuous wave of words presses against his lips and he focuses all of his energy on getting them out.

“It’s alright. You’re alright.” Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands, swiping away tears with his thumbs, but he’s sobbing so hard that it doesn’t make a difference. His ‘calm, cool, and collected’ plan is effectively blown to hell and he curses himself for it.

“You shouldn’t have gone out like that, man. Fuck, I should have said something-”

“Dean, it’s alright--”

“No, it isn’t. I screwed up, Cas. I screwed up so fuckin’ bad.” Dean blinks at a tear-warped Cas, gripping his forearms as if he’d disappear in the breeze.

“When you said...what you said, I thought it back. It was easier to say in my head but I should’ve said it out loud. You deserve to hear it. You deserve everything.” Speaking his mind is like willingly chugging motor oil. He swallows thickly as his thoughts start to align into some semblance of clarity.

“You deserved more time,” Cas murmurs, and he has the nerve to look upset. He always wanted to give Dean more, so much more than he ever deserved.

“Shut up,” Dean growls. Some switch flips in him, some bristly protectiveness that has him wanting to shake the angel like a margarita until he finally admits his worth.

“Dean--”

“Nope. No more heroic bullshit. You’ve given enough, Cas. It’s enough. You’re enough.” Dean grips Cas’s shoulders and stares him down. Cas opens his mouth to retort but whatever expression is on Dean’s face presumably shuts him up.

“You’ve always had me, Cas. You will always have me. I have never loved anyone the way I love you.” Finally, finally, the words tumble out without a second thought. Dean’s death grip on Cas’s shoulders loosens. He did it.

“I love you too, Dean. I’ve loved you since the very beginning.” Cas smiles, as if it’s simple.

“Gross,” Dean quips on instinct, and he regrets it the second it comes out.

“You’re gross,” Cas fires back, squinty eyes and all, and Dean barks out a laugh that startles them both.

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, cradling the back of Cas’s neck with his hand, and resolves never to let him go. Never again.

...

“Dean Novak ain’t bad,” Dean murmurs, rubbing a hand over Cas’s bare shoulder. The angel’s nestled into his side, huffing warm breaths into his collarbone, and he would rather die again than forget the feeling of Cas’s sleepwarm skin.

“Mm. Castiel Winchester.” His lips graze over Dean’s chest in a low effort sort-of kiss.

“You shouldn’t have to carry that name, after everything.”

“Hyphenation isn’t uncommon. Winchester-Novak?” Cas tilts his head up and scoots just slightly, trying to preserve his warm spot in Dean’s arms. He presses a proper kiss to the base of Dean’s throat and hums when he twitches away.

“Sounds less like a name and more like a spell.” Dean snorts, and Cas swats his shoulder.

“I fell in love with you, Dean Winchester, and it would be an honor to carry that name. Even if it is completely ceremonial.” Cas turns Dean’s face down towards him, forcing their eyes to meet. Dean’s a little more than breathless at the way Cas’s eyes catch the moonlight but he still manages to grin.

“Winchester is a dumb name, sorry.”

“You are blatantly disrespecting my fiancé.” Cas squints at him.

“Hmm, am I?” Dean’s eyes flit down to Cas’s lips, tongue flicking against his teeth.

“Yes.”

“Your fiancé is a dumbass for not proposing to you sooner.” Dean cradles the back of Cas’s head, absently scratching his fingers along the scalp.

“He absolutely is. But only I get to say that about him.” Cas’s face settles into a steely neutrality betrayed only by the sparkle in his eye. Dean leans in closer but Cas stops him with a finger over his lips.

“Apologize.”

“Wh--are you serious?”

“Apologize, Dean.” Cas pushes himself up on his elbow and cocks his eyebrow.

“You want me to apologize...to myself?” Dean chuckles in disbelief, waiting for Cas to admit he’s joking, but all he receives are wide, blinking blue eyes.

“Perhaps you need some encouragement,” Cas murmurs, his lips quirking into a smirk. Before Dean can protest, Cas throws his leg over Dean’s and buries his nimble fingers into his ribs.

“Wait, Cas--ahaha!”

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t kind towards yourself, I don’t want to hear them.” Cas leans up to nip at Dean’s ear, burying a few chuckles directly behind it. His fingers trail down Dean’s body, pinching every inch of his ribs and sides.

What leaves Dean next is less words and more a verbal error noise. He arches away, desperately shoving at Cas’s shoulders. All he does is turn himself around, and Cas is very quick to wrap him up in his arms. His fingers press into Dean’s lower stomach and trip over one another like he’s gliding over piano keys.

Dean curls, arms folded over his middle. Cas manages a cheeky pinch to the back of Dean’s thigh and he squeaks--apparently Cas likes that noise because an avalanche of more pinches follow.

Dean doesn’t expect him to find that devastating spot near his armpit on the first fucking try, but Cas is full of surprises and Dean is full of laughter. He clamps his arms to his sides but it barely makes a difference. Fireworks overwhelm his nervous system. In Cas’s arms, he feels like he’s flying--but he can’t tell if it’s the lack of air or the endolphins. Endorphins. Whatever.

“Cas!” His name floats out of Dean, blanketed in crinkly-eyed, heartwarming laughter. It’s all he wants to hear for the rest of eternity.

“You are everything to me.” Cas doesn’t expect Dean to hear him over his near-violent giggles, but Dean squeezes his wrist twice to acknowledge him where his voice can’t. His fingers slow, gently trailing over pinkened skin, and Dean slowly remembers how to breathe.

“We can renegotiate the name thing. Maybe,” Dean wheezes, and his shit-eating grin is nearly audible. Cas rolls his eyes and scribbles at Dean’s exposed hip, following each turn, twist, and twitch. For the first few moments, he’s concerningly quiet, only squirming with strangled noises, but within seconds his laughter catches back up with his brain and he’s cackling into the mattress.

“Maybe? Is that your final answer?”

“Nonono, please Cas!” Dean shrieks, kicking his legs as if it will help. He flails all the way to the edge of the bed but Cas is quick to pull him back into his arms. His tickly touch turns calming in an instant, tracing over muscle lines and battle scars as they both resettle.

“We’ll work on it. Together.” Cas flips him over and steals a quick kiss, drinking up the leftover laughter. Dean’s joy is sweet on his tongue.

“Together,” Dean murmurs, leaning their foreheads together.

Holding his lover—Castiel, his Castiel—in the moonlight is all that Dean Winchester-Novak could ever ask for.

There was happiness in the having, after all.

#my fics #SPNfluffsgiving2020 #SPN #Destiel #ticklish!dean #dean winchester #castiel #bobby singer

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