#it’s a shorter one ! barely 2k :D

[utterlyazriel]

There's no sound coming from inside. No scent of blood, no crackle of fire. Yet, somehow, he knows without question that you're in there. As his concern winds down a notch, his rational brain begins to tick. There might be someone else in there with you. As the different scenario's get considered and discarded, Azriel lands on the most likely one. It's a trap. The reasoning builds up the motive, spinning a story that makes sense. A Shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court, caught off his guard by using his latest confidant against him. Azriel turns over the idea slowly and decisively, thinking of Brudam, of Lord Mylind, wondering if they've been buying their time all this while— and he's been too distracted with you to even notice. Azriel curses himself for being so careless. There's still no noise from within the shelter. If it's a trap, it doesn't matter; the only way out is through.

snippet of chapter 6 of whom the shadows sing for! prepare for toil and trouble my dears <3

[honsoolie]

step on me.

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: idol!au, crack, fluff 

warnings: getting stepped on (is that a warning?) cursing, mention (1) of sex but it’s super tame 

words: 2k 

rating: pg15

a/n: thank you to @mindays for taking a look at this and @joonsrack for helping come up with alternate words for “kneel,” even if they didn’t make it to the final draft. read this on ao3 :) 

“Is that something that you would be okay with?” 

“What?” You blink, still not quite able to process what’s being asked of you. 

This has to be a dream. You’re going to wake up soon, and laugh at how ridiculous your sleeping mind can be. 

This can’t be real, but the way that the uncomfortable chair bites into the backs of your thighs tells you that it’s real. The earnest look in your manager’s eyes tells you that this isn’t just a joke. You know you’re fooling yourself. 

“For a scene in the music video. Agust D will trample over the court officials as he raps. The director thought it would be a nice touch for him to step on someone. You know, to really show off the power dynamic,” Your manager says, like that’s a totally normal thing to say.

 Like she’s commenting on the weather, except she’s asking you for your permission to be used as a footstool. You’re at a loss for words. You open your mouth to say something, but you come up with nothing. 

“We could find someone else, if you’re not comfortable with it.” Your manager softens her gaze, leaning back in her chair. She moves to make a note on her computer, but you interject. 

“No! No. It’s okay,” You say. You’re still fairly new to the agency, and you need the experience. You don’t need to be the new girl that also refuses to get her hands dirty. 

You continue, “I can do it. I’ll do it.” At this point, you’re not sure who you’re reassuring. 

“You’ll be thoroughly compensated for it, so keep that in mind.” She doesn’t buy your willingness, not yet. After all, who would be so keen to get fucking stepped on? 

“Yes, of course.” You nod. You need to show that you’re serious about this job, that you’re a working professional, that you’re willing to buckle down for the sake of the company. 

“He won’t be touching you for that long, it’s just one scene. It shouldn’t hurt.” Her attempts to assuage you don’t help. 

“I understand.” 

“Great. I’ll mark you down for it and we’ll begin shooting next week.”

“Sounds great.” You manage a tight-lipped smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes.  Your manager mirrors the sentiment. 

“Thanks. Can you close the door on your way out? There’s a draft,” She says, eyes not leaving her monitor. When the door closes behind you, you laugh in disbelief. 

One of your first big appearances in a music video, and your face won’t even be in it. 

In the next week, you try to soothe the gnawing worry by watching interviews, fancams, anything to help prepare you for what’s to come. Knowledge is power, right? 

But if anything, it makes it worse. You watch video after video where the many of the commenters are languishing over him. Ironically enough, one comment reads, 

  step on me, min yoongi :”(

 It’s well deserved, honestly. It’s no lie to say that Min Yoongi is attractive, and even more so when he’s on stage. His charisma increases tenfold when he’s rapping into a mic, eyes trained on the thousands of fans before him. 

You shut your laptop and curl up on your bed. There’s no way to make this easy for yourself, is there? 

 ~

The day of the music video shooting, you don’t see any trace of Yoongi on set—and you hope to keep it like that, out of your own self-preservation. As you make your way on set, signing in and changing into your costume, the same hollow feeling follows you around in the pit of your stomach. 

You’re sitting in the waiting room when someone clears their throat behind you. When you turn around, it’s the exact person you had hoped not to see before the shooting took place. The Min Yoongi. 

“Ah, hello,” You say, bowing ninety degrees. When you stand back up, the hood of your costume falls over your eyes. You push your hood back down, the extra fabric pooling around your shoulders. You can only hope that you don’t look as ridiculous as you feel.

“So… I guess you’re the person I’ll be...” The Min Yoongi starts. 

“Stepping on?” You offer. You both share a quiet laugh together, among the humming chatter of the makeup noonas and your other colleagues getting ready for the shoot. The air is so suffocating that it feels like you’re the only two in the room, or maybe it’s your own nervousness clouding your judgement. Oh God, this is so much worse than you thought it would be. 

“Uh, yeah.” He looks, if anything, coy. It’s a charming juxtaposition to his extravagant get-up. 

You spot the Jordan trainers he’s wearing. It’s a nice touch, anachronistic to the traditional clothes he’s wearing. Truly fit for a king, you muse. 

You laugh, just to fill the awkward silence. “I’ve never done this before,” You say, like this is somewhere casual. Like you’re in your first boyfriend’s bedroom, and you’re getting ready to take the next step —but it isn’t. The circumstances are decidedly more glamorous. You’re sitting in some dimly-lit waiting room, talking to a celebrity you’ve idolized since forever, getting paid to be in a music video for a song that’ll rake in hundreds of millions of views. 

Even before the cameras start rolling, there’s something about the blond wig and the scar and the aura that makes you want to get on your knees and worship. You’ve met big stars before, but there’s something about him that just commands a state of speechlessness. 

“Well, I never have either.” He shrugs his shoulders, not taking his eyes off you—but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. 

You kick yourself for being so flustered. You’re a professional, you remind yourself . You’ve worked with Bighit before, for other music videos, this is supposed to be the same. 

He’s just… so much taller in person. Perhaps not taller. Naver told you he was one of the shorter members of BTS. 

Imposing, then. Ethereal, definitely. Nobody ever told you how delicate his features were, or how deep his voice was, or how warm his eyes were. 

“I figured.” You try to look him in the eye, but your gaze falls wayward at every attempt. He’s being so professional, and down to earth, and nice . And here you are, barely able to form a complete sentence in his presence. 

He laughs again. “I’ll try to make our first time memorable, then.” He gives you a familiar smirk, one that you’ve seen before. It looks a lot like the one that he has on before one of his verses on stage, like he has the world at his feet. Before you can come up with a response (not that you were going to, awestruck as you were), Yoongi was whisked away by a makeup noona for final touch-ups. 

So much for a good first impression. 

~

Never in your life did you think that you would be kneeling before Min Yoongi’s feet, dressed up as a Joseon era court official, waiting to be stepped on. What did you have to be so nervous for? After all, you weren’t the one doing the stepping.

You kneel at the tape marking that labels your place. Dozens of your colleagues take their places around you, forming a perfect grid. 

Luckily for you, it’s not sweltering hot like the last time that you shot a music video with Yoongi. You remember the hot air of the room that you shot the Interlude: Shadow music video in, how crowded you felt among everyone else. He hadn’t noticed you among the sea of extras. Of course not. You looked the same among the faceless people, all of you donning the same black parka. 

Even back then, months ago, you never saw him up close. You were fresh meat then, too focused on just doing the right job and staying under the radar. Certainly you weren’t close enough to get stepped on. Not even close enough to talk to him. 

The concrete is warm beneath your touch and you close your eyes as the music begins to play from the speakers. The first shots that they wanted to take were just of Yoongi walking up and down the walkway, so that was easy enough. All you had to do was lay there, prone. You can hear his footsteps, feel his shadow pass over you. God, this was too much.  

There’s no warning as to when it’s supposed to happen. You hear the director call to cut over and over as they switch angles, touch up Yoongi’s hair and makeup, give staging directions. When you hear the director say your fated scene is next, the anticipation crawls from the pit of your stomach to your throat. 

But you still don’t know when. You don’t know what lyric or what second he’ll descend upon you, nor can you even see. All you can really do is lay there and let the concrete bite into your knees. 

When it finally happens, it’s more shocking than it actually hurts. You gasp inaudibly under the music as you attempt to bear the weight of him, the air forced out of you. Yoongi isn’t exactly heavy, but you’re not exactly made to be stepped on. You bite your lip to try and stay quiet. It’s over just as quickly as it started. 

“Cut!” 

You sit up from your kneeling position, more breathless than you should be. Yoongi extends a hand out to help you up. His hand is soft, and so is his encouraging smile. 

Oh God, his hand is soft. There’s an understated strength in the way he effortlessly pulls you up off the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, rubbing your shoulders. You are absolutely pliant under his touch. “Are you okay?” 

Physically, you’re fine. Just peachy. But Yoongi looking deeply into your eyes with his hands on you is too much. It’s all you can do to nod. 

“Mm-hmm,” You muster, but it’s barely more than a squeak. 

“Let’s look at the shot, see if we need to do it again.” You had forgotten that it might have taken multiple takes, and you’re not prepared to have Min Yoongi help you up over and over again, touch you over and over like that again.

In a way, the shot looks a little glorious. The camera focuses on the Agust D in the video, before panning out to reveal the dozens of court officials that kneel before him. The delicate, soft features that you saw backstage are gone. The Agust D in the video, hooded eyes and all arrogance, jumps on one of the hooded figures. It looks like it should have hurt more than it actually did. 

“Great,” The director says. “Let’s move on.” 

The rest of the shooting passes by without incident. You wait until nightfall for the final scenes of the day, where you nod your head in time with the music as the black-haired Agust D usurps the king. 

When the filming is over for the day, you move to get up, eager to get changed and eat dinner. When you push the hood out your eyes (for what seems to be the hundredth time today), Yoongi is again standing before you. He smiles. 

“I’d love to work with you again.” 

a/n: ummmm this idea popped into my mind a couple days ago while I’ve been procrastinating on the rest of my wips. even after a month after d-2 dropped, the yoongi thirst hasn’t left me. this totally wasn’t an excuse to watch the daechwita mv over and over again. i hope you enjoyed it as much as it did writing it!! 

[theoreticslut]

✨ U P D A T E S ✨

Hi loves! Just a few things I wanted to let you all know of / remind you of!

1. 1.1k sleepover - Thank you for everyone who participated!! I had so much interaction & it went so well! So just thank you! I still can’t believe there’s that many of you!

2. Requests - I’m still working through requests for my 1.1k sleepover, not to mention I still have requests from the New Years celebration I did, & I’ve got a bunch of various requests I’ve received. Basically, I’m swamped with requests at the moment. I am trying to get them out asap, but I’m also trying to keep my sanity.

Therefore, I have decided that I WILL be working through them but I have no idea when they’ll all be done bc I would like to start working on (& posting) my own original ideas again.

3. Content Schedule - Following the previous point, I have decided to try to create some sort of schedule for myself for posting bc I feel like I’m just not active enough on here lately.

So below is my IDEAL schedule for getting stuff out;

• Love letters & ships from 1.1k sleepover

- I’ve been having to type them out on my phone bc my laptop is being a lil bitch and typing on my phone procures enough issues of its own (not to mention is 10x slower)

• Headcanons/Blurbs from 1.1k sleepover

- I’ve been slowly getting these out, but I still have a BUNCH to do so they’re on their way I promise

• Fic & Misc. Requests from New Years event

- Pretty sure I have everything that isn’t a fic request done, but as I’m not 100% sure I’ll add it in just in case. With these, some of them are winter/holiday themed so hopefully that won’t bother any of you, I just really would like to get them out

• Various requests & original content

- This one is a little hazy, but once I get the shorter misc. requests from previous events done, I’ll be working on getting fic requests and my own original ideas out at the same time. I might get a few requests out before I get my own work out or vice versa. There’s no specific order for them.

4. WIPs & Content Ideas - some upcoming content you can expect from me, all original ideas.

-Plaything // pt 2 (at least)

-Enemies to Lovers series pt 5 (?)

-Roadtrip w/ your friends

-roommates au w/ George (for @/15-dogs writing challenge - this is so late I’m so sorry)

-study partners w/ Fred (for @/teawiththeweasleys 500 writing challenge - also so late 😓 I’m so sorry ellie my love. I hope you’re not disappointed)

-French reader x George (based on this post I made)

-dancing on my own by Calum Scott insp Oliver fic

-Draco angst/fluff short series?!

Not sure when all of these will be out exactly, as most of them are just barely started if they’re started at all but hopefully these ideas interest you & you’ll keep an eye on my blog for them!

5. Posting Schedule - As I’ve said before, I am a college student and I work part time so I don’t have a ton of time. With that said, I am hoping to be able to get stuff out every weekend (whether that be on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, or all three days)! Ideally I’d love to get at least 2 fics out along with a few headcanons/blurbs each weekend, but we’ll see what happens!

I’ve even thought about trying to get fics out on the weekends and try to spread headcanons/blurbs out over the week, but again we’ll see!

6. Upcoming Events! - I’m super excited about this bc I love doing event for all of you, so here’s what I’m thinking for the next month of two;

-A writing challenge (either for my birthday or follower milestone, haven’t yet decided)

-A small birthday celebration (similar to the game night I did for 800 followers)

-Easter event (haven’t yet figured out all the details, but I think I’d like to do something)

-follower milestone (potentially 1.5k or maybe even 2k. I’m super close to 1.5k, but I’m overwhelmed with previous events so I might hold off until I get some of the other events finished off)

Okay, I think that’s everything!

I just want to thank all of you for sticking with me and still reading and reblogging/commenting on my content. You have no idea how much all of that means to me!!

I just love all of you so much!! Xx

taglist;

general: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @perfectlysane24 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @softlyqoos @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello @karushinekomiya @p0gue420 @hogwartslut @sebby-staan @darthwheezley @slytherin-7 @callmelilone @teenagesublimefan @hufflrpuffforfred @hopefullhearts @fredshmeasley @youralternantpersonality @stoopidwithtwohoes @sightiff @captaincactusjuice @concepcion @hufflepuffflowers @impulse-anchor @loverslane99 @fleurho @eternallyvenus @lemongrasshoney @watermelonsugar2810 @hpotterwhore @harrypotterwifey @onyourgoddamnleft @littlemisswitt @princessofmice @harleigh110 @accioalix @teenwolfbitches2 @sammy-the-gay @angeletarte

[asideofourown]

Happy anniversary to the Good Omens TV show! I didn’t get the chance to write a fic specifically to celebrate (where did May go?  Perhaps I’ll do something in June for my own go-versary), so instead here I am with 25 recs :D  Thanks so much to @forineffablereasons​ for the bingo board (here is her original post)!  And thanks so much to the Good Omens fandom for countless hours of incredible fic to read and enjoy <3  Obviously, this list barely scratches the surface of what’s out there, but here are some of my favorites!  

A fic you’ve read several times: South Downs University series by @nieded​

I’ve read this series probably... ten times, and I still love it.  It fits (one of my absolute favorite) very niche categories with Crowley and Aziraphale being cryptid professors and utterly confusing their students, and i am HERE for it

A fic not abt Aziraphale and Crowley: Bridge over troubled water by @moondawntreader​

LISTEN this fic is so good, I’ve read it probably four times and it’s incredible.  Short, but so powerful in so few words.  Leslie/Maud is the true otp ;D

A fic published before the show aired: Slytherin Vaguely Downwards by @saviobriion​

This fic is really, really well-written, and does a fantastic job transporting many Good Omens characters into the HP universe in a way that works really well!

A fic you followed as a wip: on the same page by @thechekhov​

Still a WIP, and still incredible!  Az and Crowley as authors with their own Arrangement is already fantastic, but add in the fake-dating-while-pining-desperately?  Incredible!

a human AU: secondhand smoke by @paintedvanilla​

This is probably my favorite fic in the entire good omens fandom tbh... human au set in the 1990s, and so so so well done-- this is another fic I’ve read several times, and every time i notice something new.  The characterization and prose is fantastic, the development of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship is really sweet and realistic, and this was also the fic that definitively got me on board for Newt/Anathema as well!

A fic shorter than 2k: For Holding by theycallmeDernhelm

Ahh this one is really soft!  Post-apocalypse hand holding is my jam, and the author does a lovely job of saying so much in so few words <3

A fic you stayed up way too late reading: Not So Different by effing_gravity

I stayed up until maybe... three in the morning reading this fic?  After every chapter I would tell myself to only read one more, but it was so gripping I read it all in one sitting!  Reverse omens meets the canon husbands in a super interesting and thrilling fic!

A south downs fic: The consciousness of loving and being loved by yolkinthejump

This is like... the platonic ideal of a South Downs fic imo.  The author does an absolutely incredible job of conveying the depth of their relationship, and it’s so sweet and soft and <3

A fic with a favorite trope: There goes the neighbourhood by @jasmine-cottage-uk​

so technically I’m cheating because the ‘favorite trope’ in this one is ALSO south downs (like above), but.  This fic is so funny, and the author does a great job of capturing Aziraphale and Crowley’s voices and the way the care for each other, it’s very sweet <3

A dowling years fic: Floriography by Frenchmeister

This fic is very cute!  Excellent Dowling-era pining, complete with misunderstandings and veiled communications :D  And the author does such a lovely job weaving the narrative to show Aziraphale and Crowley’s growing relationship

A historical fic: Phersu by JCutter

This fic.  THIS FIC.  Is so fucking incredibly detailed and immersive, oh my god.  I’m still (admittedly) in the process of reading it, but it’s a GEM.  The characterization is on point and the whole thing is beautifully written and wonderfully interesting!  It’s super clear the author knew what they were writing about, and that knowledge and passion really shines through

A favorite canonverse fic: England's pleasant pastures seen by @heavens-bookshop​

this fic is my JAM-- overhearing a conversation, implicit marriage proposals, post-canon sweetness... this one’s got it all!  And, as with all of their fics, squiddz does an incredible job of writing Aziraphale and Crowley in character and so wonderfully in love <3

MY FIC: A Guide to Fame for the Enterprising Demon by me!

This is my favorite fic I’ve written for Good Omens, and quite possibly my favorite fic ever.  Listen, Crowley getting accidentally famous is SO funny to me, as is outsider pov, so if I write about it a lot... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A fic that made you cry: reasons wretched and divine by @stammiviktor​

Allison has been one of my favorite writers for a good long while, and this fic is just one of her amazing works.  It’s touching and meaningful and so moving even in only a few thousand words, and between her characterization and writing style... this one packs a punch in the best of ways

A fic that inspires you: The Name of the Star is Wormwood by LusBeatha

So technically this could have gone up above, in the ‘stayed up too late reading’ category, because here’s another that was just too exciting to put down  From beginning to end, the author does and incredible job connecting the past and present, and introducing characters in such an engaging way that, even though the fic is quite long, it goes by super fast.  Probably my fave take on Raphael!Crowley :D

A fic you’d recommend to someone new to the fandom: Shotgun Wedding: sometimes a first date requires paperwork by @charlottemadison42​

Still a wip, and absolutely amazing!  Charlotte is an absolutely incredible author, and from the very beginning this fic does an amazing job of integrating canon characters (and even little nods and references to canon!) into an entirely different human au setting in a super engaging and clever way.  12/10 would recommend to someone new, and the slow burn is incredibly satisfying right up to the (current) resolution!

A comfort fic: it's a new craze by @areyougonnabe​, [podfic] it's a new craze by @niceandaccuratetheatre​

I’ve read this fic a few times, and it never gets old. attheborder’s humor is on point, and the conception itself- aziraphale and crowley on an advice podcast- is incredible!  I would highly, highly recommend listening to the podfic if you can; it’s excellently performed, and in all honesty the podfic that got me onto podfics ;D

A fic that found you at the right time: two dad shaped beings by @jarchivism​

i....... cannot express how much I love ineffable parents.  And this fic seriously, seriously hits the spot.  It’s super cute, super funny, and a really sweet and engaging read!  The author did a lovely job with keeping Az and Crowley in character even as they raise the antichrist together

A fic you’d love to see as a movie: All's Fair In Love And Serial Killing by @wyvernquill​

[Mind the tags] This fic does an incredible job of balancing darker content with humor.  The whole story is fast-paced and exciting, keeping the suspense right up until the last moment, and the author does a fantastic job of constructing a satisfying ‘mystery!’  Most of all, the more morbid moments are countered by Wyvern’s clever writing style and narrative voice, making this fic interesting and even surprisingly fun!

A fic by a favorite author: Four Cups of Wine by borealowl

I really, really love this fic.  The whole concept, of Aziraphale and Crowley getting to know a family of humans and learn about their cultural heritage through celebration is wonderful, and the author does a wonderful job of portraying the growth of their friendship! The entire series (both main fic and the one-shots that come after) is incredibly fun and interesting, and one of my faves in the fandom

A fic that made you laugh out loud: What's in a Name? by @rosen-ritter​

The first time I read this I was in public, waiting at a car rental place for my grandparents.  So the fact that I couldn’t stop laughing out loud was... honestly worth it.  This series is so fucking funny from beginning to end, especially on reread, and has such a fun take on who the archangel Raphael really is ;D

A fic longer than 20k: Dad Omens by @pookaseraph​

have I mentioned I love ineffable parents??? Because I really, really do.  This fic is hilarious, sweet, and adorable, and I absolutely love the progression of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship as they raise Adam together-- and, despite not being human, raise him well :D  An absolutely wonderful take on what if the baby swap had been even more confused?

A fic with the them: and i don't care if you don't want me (i'm yours anyhow) by @quidfree​

The main focus of this fic is Warlock, but the Them are featured pretty heavily and in a really important way!  It’s a lovely exploration of kids growing up and going to college, and learning who they really are, and written so well and with such nuance that I really couldn’t put it down!

A fic with a line you still remember: A More Nourishing Love by @qorktrees​

This fic is just.  Really powerful.  It’s so, so clear how much Aziraphale and Crowley care for each other, how much they love and support each other, and their unconditional love for each other makes me tear up every time <3  

A GO: Lockdown fic: New slang by @carishouldbesleeping

This fic is super super cute!  A lovely take on Aziraphale and Crowley’s reunion post-lockdown, complete with fluff and love confessions <3  So well-written and absolutely adorable!

[koukaimagines]

Can you do a scenario where the reader finds out about Zeno's powers? (Reader probably joined the bunch late after Zeno's reveal and they probably decided to not tell them about Zeno's power.) Zeno and reader are already in a relationship and the reveal happened in order to protect them for that extra angst. Thanks for doing this blog btw!!

Hi!! Hello!! Thank you for enabling me >:D this is the first time I've written a full angst so I hope you enjoy it! 2k words coming up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, if you guys are the four dragons, then what's your power, Zeno?" 

The answer hit you when the head of your lover rolled, and a pair of vacant blue eyes, like still turquoise water, stared back at you.

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

Yona and company are currently wanted in a foreign country. Propaganda began to spread after the death of King Il and the disappearance of his closest entourage. In a forest, they're forced to grit their teeth in the cold as they bare another night in the wilderness, but it's nothing new, and the party remains cheerful.

"Hey!" Zeno cheers, "miss, are you cold?" You watch as your boyfriend approaches Yona, offering his scarf to her before returning to your side, seeking your warmth. It hasn't been long since you two got together, but the longer your conversations dragged on, the shorter they felt to you when they ended. They weren't about anything particularly deep, mostly consisting of the contents of your life up until just before you met him and the others, because he refused to talk about himself. After witnessing several sides to the mysterious, yet obviously kind man, a few weeks later, you found yourself head-over-heels for him.

And you confessed.

"I love you," rolled off your tongue like sweet honey, and his breath hitched in his throat.

You remember the way his face fell for a fleeting second, and you remember the feeling of how tight your chest became.

You didn't understand just how much torment it brought him, how he wished for those words to never leave your mouth. 

Yet his heart fluttered all the same, so much so that before he realized it, his expression had softened into a smile, and you were in his arms, red in the face. 

His embrace doesn't phase you so much anymore, and you nuzzle your head against his chest, indulging in his warmth as he wraps his arms around you. 

"Are you feeling cold?" He whispers, holding you closer. You shake your head in response, not lifting your gaze. "Okay then, good night. I love you," you heard him mumble before a light kiss placed itself on the top of your head. Bunching the fabric of his garments in a fist, you whispered; 

"I love you too." 

The next morning, you were on the move again, with Yun planning your route back to Kouka. A muddled groan rang out from his throat. 

"We have a slight problem..." he mutters, running his hand through his apricot locks. "It looks like the only way we can get back to Kouka is through a village, unless Jaeha wants to carry each and every single one of us across an impossibly large valley." 

A million questions raced through the individual minds of the group, one being the most prominent amongst them. 

"What if we get caught..?"

Yun and you went to town, mapping out several alleyways that were hidden from the public eye to use, just in case the military passes through the village on the day you leave. As you strolled through the village with calm eyes, you thought to yourself. 

"Hey, Yun. You guys have all known Zeno for a while now, right?" You ask, curious, deciding to take a chance for your age-old question. If it's Yun, he'd tell you, right?

"Yes, and what of it?" He answered, checking his notebook and looking around, trying to take in as much detail of the village as possible.

"Well, I was wondering if you could tell me what his power is, y'know, as the yellow dragon." He stopped in his tracks, staying quiet. 

"Ah, there's another one over here," you follow his raised finger to another alleyway. Puffing your cheeks, you reluctantly follow him into the crevice of the buildings. "Sorry, but I don't think I should be the one to answer that question." Yun added, he could only imagine what Zeno must've gone through for the past 2000+ years, so he didn't feel like this was the right place, or right person to tell you. 

You pouted, running circles in your mind trying to figure out what exactly your lover's power was, not only because you simply wanted to know what it was. 

You wanted to know what it could possibly be, for Zeno, and everyone else to feel like they can't trust you with the information.

Upset, you decided to just keep quiet for the rest of the time, until you both regrouped with the others. 

"Oh! Welcome back!~☆" a familiar voice rang out, you lift your gaze to see your bright lover, arms spread wide, running towards you. Your body is then encompassed in warmth when two pairs of strong arms envelope you. "Did you have fun?" He asks, pulling away. You nod in response. You feel a pair of eyes from your left, and you look up to see Yun with a fallen expression. After noticing your gaze, he looks away, however. 

Night began to fall, and the group decided to start moving tomorrow. For now, the plan was to eat the dinner Yun made for them. You and Zeno sat a little ways from the rest, leaning up against a tree with a wide trunk. You had been quiet for a while now, and that didn't escape Zeno. 

"What's wrong?" he mutters, tilting his head so that you were in his view. You stayed quiet for a while before he spoke again. "... You can tell me," he says. 

"I don't know... I've been thinking... It's just-" and as if reading your mind, your boyfriend opens his mouth. 

"Are you scared?" He asks, recalling your bitten lip, and your furrowed brows.

"Yeah... I mean- what if we do get caught, then what are we gonna do... This is really risky... But I-I know that after this, we'll be back in Kouka, and safe..." you trail off, internal conflict spiraling in your head. As your mind spins, preparing for the worst case scenario, a warm hand cradles your cheek, pushing it ever-so-slightly to make you face him. The fire not-too-far away reflected in his eyes. The way the orange-red sparks flew and glimmered framed his gaze passionate, making you feel bashful. Despite the intensity of his eyes, his smile was tender. Drawing you closer, he whispered. 

"I'll protect you, I promise. No matter what happens." 

And before you could utter a word of rebuttal, the blond had your lips locked with his in a deep kiss. His lips were dry and his fangs often bit on your bottom lip, but you loved it. Your heart swelled and when it felt like it might burst, he pulled away, his eyes looking into yours, and he gave you a small smile before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, taking your hand and returning to the rest of the group. That night, you drifted off to the dream realm, the echoes of your lover's voice in your head lulling you.

Quickened breaths and rasped voices make you stir. Your eyes flutter open to a crimson-filled sight. You prop yourself up, wide-eyed. 

An unrecognizable man laid limp, 3 metres away from you, a pool of blood indicating his state. You look up to see small, but numerous lit-up torches in the distance.

"Y/N, we need to get out of here," your brain registers before you're pulled up by the waist. A warm hand gripped yours, and your body moved. The moonlight made out familiar strands of blond in front of you, dancing from the wind. 

"Zeno?- Wh-... What's going on??" You ask, your mind slowly piecing things together, praying that your boyfriend wouldn't utter what you feared most.

"We've been found," a voice behind you rings out. You look behind you to see everyone running with you. "We'll go through the village since it's empty and get out of here for good." Yun adds. 

"There!! Get them!! Don't let a single one of them escape!" 

Chills run down your spine and adrenaline rushes through your veins. It's hard to breathe. 

"You guys go on ahead, I shall buy you some time." Kija says, the sound of bandages ripping as his hand enlarges. 

".. Me too..." you hear one less pair of footsteps as a chipmunk squeals, perhaps with the same intention. 

"W-... Wait!!!" You screamed, but your voice was drowned out by the cries of men and ripping flesh as Kija and Shinah became smaller and smaller in your line of sight. 

You run and run, the houses of the village becoming larger and larger in sight, and for a second, relief washes over you. 

That relief was struck down by an arrow to the dirt, and you bump into Zeno's back. 

"Well well well, looks like we have our hands quite full this time around." Hak says, unraveling the cloth covering his guandao as men on horseback began to surround the group. 

Zeno held his arm over you protectively, and you saw his head tilt down. 

"Stay behind me, Y/N. I won't let you get hurt." 

Abiding his orders, you grit your teeth as you palm for your dagger, hidden away under your skirt. 

Screams and cries fill the air as the smell of blood and torn bodies fill your nostrils. A man with a sword approaches you from behind, and you take your dagger in hand, prepared to fight. With a yell, the sword comes rushing down and before you could even intercept it, a flash of yellow appears before you, 

and the sound of flesh and bone cutting filled your ears.

"I'll protect you, I promise.

No matter what happens." 

You blink as the headless body of your lover falls limp in your arms, and his head accompanying his feet on the ground. 

Your eyes feel as if they might pop out of their sockets, and your heart feels like it might rip itself apart. Your head pounds and your stomach churns. Your brain struggles to make sense of the event that just unfolded. You don't even feel the impact when your back makes hard contact with the ground, fabric sticking to your skin, cold and unsettling as blood seeps into your clothes, and your headless lover in your arms.

Your mind goes blank, and you accept your fate. You might as well die here, alongside the one you loved. 

"Ah- I'm sorry, it seems like a bit of my blood got on to you," a familiar voice rings out, but you don't process the words. Ah, this was it, Zeno's greeting you in heaven, that must be it.

A hand palms around, stopping when it finds your cheek. A scream elicited by the man in front of you brings you back to the situation at hand and your senses begin to function. Your cheeks feel wet and your sight seems blurry, but it made out a head of unruly blond hair, and a smile that you knew all too well. 

"Zeno..?" You whisper, breathless. He grits another blow as the man cuts through his spine. You can't seem to get a hold on anything that's happening. Zeno- or so you think, gets up and turns to the man, his cut filling your vision. 

And something unbelievable happens.

As if mending itself, the cut healed in a matter of seconds, and golden scales began to appear. The same scream rips itself from the man's throat, but is suddenly muffled when his head is brought down by a hand covered in similar, golden scales. You look around to see the rest of the men on the ground. 

"Sorry I let you see that," the clad-in-yellow man in front of you says. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you right?" He says again, and this time, your brain registers the same voice blanketed in worry that you often heard from your lover. 

"Ze....no...?" You manage to utter, your lips quivering. He tilts his head and hums, smiling tenderly. 

"That's me," he says, and your vision began to blur once again. Before you knew it, tears ran down your already soaked face. You feel a pair of arms lift you, and familiar chapped lips place a light kiss on your temple.

You don't know if you passed out from shock, or relief.

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

Zeno looked down at the girl lovingly, but his face soon fell, thinking about what she just went through. He figures he'd talk to her as soon as they got out of here.

[ralfstrashcan]

Tag Game - Artist Edition

Rules: It’s time to love yourself! Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Tagged by: @silver-latin-and-salt​ and also @thelightofthebane​ (that thing you tagged me in in May XD)

Tagging: @toughpaperround​ @lynne-monstr​ (only if you want to of course ;D)

1) Fortress of Shadows (Sparks of Light) [Malec, 4k royalty arranged marriage AU]

The war between Alicante and Edom is short-lived. The nephilim's runes and swords are no match for magic and fangs and claws. Alec stands stone-faced beside his mother's throne, watching with clenched teeth as the king of Edom parades through the heart of their castle, radiating power and magic and indifference. He demands land and crops and an obscenely skewed trading agreement for the future. “And,” Asmodeus lets his eyes wander over the crowd in the room like a predator lazing under the sun, seemingly languid but unable to hide the dangerous spark lurking underneath. He stares right at Alec. “You.”

I really like this one, mostly because I can still scarcely believe I actually managed to trick my muse into writing a complete AU haha what a personal triumph XD

2) i bruise easily (so be gentle when you handle me) [Malec, 1k soulmark trope, mostly canon compliant]

Every souled creature bears a mark on their ankle, a symbol that reflects the core of their being, their very essence. Once you fall in love with someone their mark appears somewhere on your body and never fades til the day you die.

Magnus's skin has borne no more than seventeen marks for the past century. Two weeks after he meets Alec Lightwood an eighteenth blooms into existence.

Writing this was an experience. I knew what specific atmosphere I was going for with this fic and I think I got it right, so that’s neat.

3) leap of faith [Malec, 2k PoV of a canon scene]

Blinking his eyes open languidly he scans the room for the source of the mysterious sound and finds it on the couch across from him in the form of a Shadowhunter sprawled out awkwardly on the cushions, feet crammed against the armrest, his left arm hanging off entirely and his lips parted around a faint snore. Alec Lightwood, eldest child of Robert and Maryse Lightwood, and walking, breathing contradiction.

[Magnus's POV of the morning after their accidental sleepover in 1x06 (technically 2x18).]

I can’t even really say what it is about this fic that I like so much? I just like it haha. I think it has some nice phrasings and I like to re-read it.

4) Look I know this is cheating but I honestly really like all of my Untamed fics so far? I’m inordinately pleased with them, much more than I am with my average Shadowhunters fic. Idk. The Untamed demands and inspires me to write very flowery with lots of lyrical descriptions and parallelisms but also with a sharp focus on character study. These fics take longer than Sh fic to write and are much shorter, but I really enjoy the results so far.

5) Inspired by my two dear taggers I tried to think of something artist-y I did outside of fic writing and realized I actually did XD I’m a huge crocheting enthusiast and a few months back I did some Untamed-inspired character aesthetic ribbon thingies and damn, I love them. Barely a day goes by that I don’t thread a few of them into my hair. Have a look!

Yunmeng Siblings! aka Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli

TWIN JADES!! THEY OWN MY HEART!! aka Lan Xichen & Lan Wangji

Troubled Masterminds aka Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang

And of course Songxiao! The bright moon and gentle breeze Xiao Xingchen + The distant snow and cold frost Song Lan. (Obviously I couldn’t keep these two separate if I tried, hahaha)

[allisonswritingcorner]

Challenge Days 1&2

I was super busy yesterday, so I’ve done 2k words today to make up for missing yesterday :) Characters belong to myself and @catherinewrites :D

This story isn't about my heroic deeds, some calamity I silenced, or even some woman I wooed. Frankly, this story isn't really about me at all. My name is Anton, and I've been on a few adventures in my time. It was twenty years ago when I first stepped foot on the path that would eventually lead me here.

I was born on the salty waves in a little fishing town far to the west of ____. My Ma always said I was born with the music of the ocean, and even my cries sounded like notes. My Pa would disagree. Whoever you believed, I grew up singing with them, ballads to bring in the salmon, a chorus to stay the sharks, and melodies to clear the skies. I always thought the songs must carry some magic in their key, but as I grew older, many others invited me along to sing with them as they sailed. It never rained while I was on deck, and I've never even seen a shark in my life.

At eighteen I started wondering if there was something to my luck, and saved my last pennies for my very own lute. It was old and worn, but I practiced for hours every night until I got even notes from the strings and I could tie together some kind of tune. The sailors, pirates, and tavern wenches always had a coin to spare at the end of the night, and we enjoyed many wonderful fishing seasons. But something was missing.

My missing piece found me one fateful evening in the form of a weather worn traveler at the front of the tavern. He watched me with a keen eye, and when I finished my performance, he beckoned me over. I took my complimentary tankard to his table and when he spoke, I suddenly understood the words my Ma had always used to describe me. His voice tumbled out in musical notes, though he clearly wasn't singing. "How long have you been performing?" He asked me.

"Professionally," I said as I took a theatrical swig of rum, "two years. But otherwise, Ma'll tell you I've been performing since birth." He chuckled.

"That, my boy, is clear. Tell me, how would you like to be a part of something bigger?" His voice took a conspiratorial tone as he tented his fingers in front of his face and looked at me expectantly.

I deliberated a moment over the rim of my mug and waited until I'd finished the rum off entirely before I answered. "Well, I'm certainly curious," I conceded.

"You, like so many before you, have a destiny, but it's not so flashy as you'll make it seem. Someday, somewhere, someone will need you. And you will be there for them, supporting them toward their destiny. You will never be a hero," he said solemnly, eyes piercing directly into my soul, "but you will be a part of something so much greater. A hero will not exist without you." I had so many questions, but he clearly had better places to be as he stood as soon as he finished talking. I rose to follow him, but he'd vanished as if by magic. There I stood, rooted to the spot, wondering just what he'd been talking of and why he'd disappeared, when I noticed something lay in the seat he'd vacated.

A well worn violin lay there, bow and all. I lifted it gingerly, afraid I might break it, and inspected the instrument. It had clearly seen many years of use, one of the strings needed replaced and the bow was threading badly. A long gash on it's back, from one end to the other, spoke of adventures as loudly as the mysterious man had. Strange as it sounds, this piece of wood and string sang to me, of wonder and adventure, of great deeds and incredible feats.

Much as I'd wanted to immediately take the bow to those strings, I knew it would only squeal in disapproval in its current state. I went to the peddler who'd sold me my lute and begged him to find some way to get it back into usable condition. He was clueless, a mere middleman, but directed me to the instrument's producer a town over.

I took my meager earnings and with them, my first step on what would become my new life. My new destiny.

This "Destiny", it would turn out, was tagging along on quests with other inexperienced teens to their inevitable doom that I would somehow survive, and then dragging myself to the nearest town to get myself patched up and, by some other miracle, weasel my way out of paying. After that, I found a slightly more experienced group of adventurers to follow, now with a few more songs and spells under my belt. The results were much the same. So much so that it became a routine.

Between the first band and now, I barely remember any of their names now. I learned over those years that the world is full of die hards, try hards, and blow hards, and dismally short of actual heroes. I'd just returned to a routine haunt after yet another horrifying disappointment a week before the real story starts. The tavern wenches all knew me, and the barkeep had my room at the ready when he learned I was in town.

On that stage, I sang as I always did, a few tunes that turned the room to merriment. They were all songs I'd learned elsewhere - I had been on no adventures worth relaying. This would be my life, I'd thought to myself as I drew the bow across strings that had become old friends over the last twenty years and let familiar words simply tumble from my lips. Honestly I didn't think I had another adventure in me. I knew I was getting old, becoming one of those has-been's whose glory days were long behind them. I'd expected so much more.

Feeling the melancholy tinge my words, I redirected my thoughts to perhaps something that might cheer me up. I scanned the faces at the tables, singling out any lovely young ladies that might turn my night around, if only the night. A lovely blonde in the front immediately caught my attention, entranced as she was in my performance. There was also a beautiful redhead leaning against the wall, looking all dangerous and exciting.

Neither gave me pause, however, like a young woman tucked away in the corner, dark hair spilling over her drawn shoulders, arms crossed on the table in front of her. She looked . . . tortured, haunted despite clearly looking quite young as well. She couldn't be over twenty, but when her green eyes rose to meet mine? I stumbled over my words for the first time since I was young. Something about her commanded all of my attention, and it took everything I had to finish the song I'd started. As I did, I took the violin from under my chin and bowed with my bow as I always did, and hopped off the stage. The barkeep shoved a tankard into my hand as I passed and I set a copper piece on the counter, asking for a warm cider as well. Armed with drinks and my good old bravado, I approached the corner of the tavern.

She seemed lost in her own world as I set the mug in front of her. Her eyes snapped up, wide and surprised as I sat across from her. "You looked like you could use a drink?" I started, tipping my own tankard toward her.

"I don't . . . drink," she said quietly, voice betraying perhaps a little more youth than I'd originally estimated.

"Fear not, my dear, it's cider, not ale." I took a swig of my own drink. "What's got you here in _____?" She didn't answer, instead more interested in the drink I'd brought her. She sniffed it curiously, suspiciously rather, then took a quick sip. It must have met her standards, as she immediately took a much bigger gulp after that. It took a lot of restraint not to laugh. "Are you from around here? I don't think I've ever seen you, though it's been a while since I've -"

"Listen," she interrupted, nearly slamming the tankard on the wooden table, "I don't know what you're after, but you won't find it here. I'm . . ." she trailed off. "I'm busy."

"Oh yes, busy," I chuckled, "sitting mysteriously in tavern corners all night?" She glared at me and I dropped her possible age down well below the twenty mark. This was a child I was talking to, and I felt her tug at some other part of me. "Are you on your own?"

"Yes, and I can handle myself just fine." She defiantly drank the rest of the cider and stood, turning sharply to leave. After a few steps, she paused and half turned around. "Thank you for the cider." But I was distracted by how . . . small she was. A full two heads shorter than most of the other patrons, and some intrinsic instinct in me pulled me to my own feet and out the door after her.

"Wait," I called, jogging a little to catch up. "Please." She stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around. I caught up and circled around her. "You must be after something, right? You look like someone searching for an answer." She broke eye contact, gaze falling to our feet.

"Why do you care?" She was defensive, well guarded.

"Everyone always tells me I'm too nosy for my own good," I joked. It fell flat, so I decided to take a more sincere route. "You're clearly young. Even if it's some simple task, you shouldn't be alone in places like this. Especially with a pretty face. Someone will nab you in a heartbeat."

"They'd regret touching me." I rolled my eyes. Was this why everyone complained about teenagers?

"Let me help? I have connections, experience, and the means to get you a room at the inn." She looked ready to deny me the same as she'd been doing all evening, when a gargling sound caught both of our attention. "Meals included." With a scowl, she crossed her arms over her traitorous belly.

"You'll get hurt. Probably die."

"Quit being so dramatic, that's my job. I've been through about two of your lifetimes. I think I'll be okay." I led her back toward the tavern. "What's your name?"

"Siren."

It was definitely a fake name, but I decided poking her anymore tonight was probably a bad idea. I requested another room and full dinner prepared, and the barkeep looked at me with confusion that I quickly dispelled with a gesture to my young new companion. He handed over a key that she took gingerly, making sure to keep from touching his fingers.

Her room was a number up from mine, so just passed my door. I bid her goodnight and heard nothing after save the wench that brought her dinner up from the kitchen. I had no idea what the next morning would bring, so I resigned myself to waking up before the sun.

When I woke, it was still dark out my window. I packed up my few belongings in my satchel and set off down the stairs. Siren was nowhere to be found in the dining room and I sighed, wondering if I'd been duped out of a room and food. Soft steps behind me denied this as I turned to see her not far behind me. There were dark circles under her eyes and she  looked even grumpier than she had last night. Clearly not a morning person.

"Where are we headed?" I asked.

"There's someone I need to talk to," she mumbled.

"Lead the way," I gestured in front of us. "Who is this someone?"

"He has information I need." Like pulling teeth. I concluded I'd spend much of our time together knowing absolutely nothing. Well, it couldn't be worse than being dragged into some deep cavern full of horrifying monsters just because someone sniffed out gold. She did lead, carefully, if a bit clumsily, weaving between people and not touching a soul.

-TBC-

[rannadylin]

The Key Thou Shalt Turn

A Pillars of Eternity fic for, and because of, @grumpy-jedi :-D Also, behold, Ranna writes angst sometimes. (The preceding two statements are related.)

It took me a long time to figure out who my Watcher Violet’s past life as an Inquisitor was, and once I finally had some vague notions, @grumpy-jedi soon adopted her as a muse too, writing of Ianthina first coming to Thaos’ notice as an acolyte, and of her returning to his side after the Inquisition. Now Ianthe has started talking to me, too, it seems, and this fic takes place years after both of those. (I should probably tag it for major character death? I mean it’s canon that Thaos reincarnates every lifetime as the same person, Awakened to all his memories, but that does imply each of those lifetimes has to end at some point, and that’s what this cheery little fic is about.) I recommend tissues handy. I also recommend a look at the wiki entry or in-game lore book on Berathian scripture. ;-)

The Key Thou Shalt Turn

Characters: Thaos, Inquisitor Ianthina

Word count: 2K

Rating: PG (death, though without violence)

She has said last rites for many a soul, in the years since she returned to Berath’s temple as the fires of the Inquisition cooled to ash. Even if the hand that turns the Wheel is not all that she once believed Berath to be, it is still enough, and the work is still needed -- both the work of the gods in the Beyond and the work of their priests on Eora. She has comforted souls that met their end with glad heart and cheerful countenance; she has done the god’s bidding with a gentle nudge -- or more -- where a soul would turn back on the portal. None escape Berath’s embrace in the end, whether Ianthina is there to encourage them or to shove them on through; it is all the same to her.

But this soul is different. The prayers that Ianthina intones at his bedside, the prayers she has spoken for decades, some of which she helped to write as an acolyte here...parts of them, in this case, aren’t precisely true.

“Walk the path and welcome change,” she repeats: not praying it this time, as she did moments ago; at her arched eyebrow and snort of irony, Thaos only smiles. They are decades past admonitions and corrections for such irreverence, after all. And it would not matter now.

He can cite the same scripture she can, of course. He was writing it lifetimes before she began. “I approach the door the same as any soul, child,” he answers. Ianthina’s heart constricts with the strain in his voice. It will not be long now. She has prayed at too many deathbeds to convince herself otherwise.

Still, she has to disagree with his humble assertion. Not many have earned the freedom of contradicting the Grandmaster, especially not after the Inquisition demonstrated the potential price of doing so, but he is in the habit now of hearing Ianthina out. She understands that he can afford to do so, since in the end she will always defer to his judgment if she cannot convince him to her own. She is no Iovara. And for her loyalty, she has the unparalleled privilege of bending his ear even when it is not what he wants to hear.

“Perhaps the approach is the same,” she corrects him now, “but it is not Berath, I think, who guides you to your destination beyond the portal.”

“Even so,” he admits that much, “the path is the same.”

“Hm.” She smoothes a wrinkle in the quilt that lies, it seems, as heavy on him now as the years this turn of the Wheel has amassed. She realizes now that he has been slowing for the last several of those years, no longer the constantly busy Grandmaster she has followed since her youth, always showing up when you least expect him, knowing every acolyte’s business as well as their hopes and doubts, always disappearing from the temple complex on business of his own at the gods’ bidding, always so strong and so certain and so...constant.

But these last several years, he has stayed closer to home, delegated more of his work than usual. He has even been sick more times than she can remember in all the decades of her long service here; nothing too serious, just the normal hardships of mortal life that pass after a few days’ discomforts. But before these twilight years, he had seemed practically immune to all such nuisances. His hair, which first began yielding its color in the aftermath of the Inquisition, has faded all to white now, and his skin bears far more wrinkles than the quilt. He is old, Ianthina concludes, surprised at how that simple fact of life has eluded her before this moment. The downside of being an elf: she underestimates sometimes the swiftness of other kith lives. Thaos, across his incarnations, has already spent far more years in the gods’ service than Ianthina will ever hope to live before her soul returns to the Wheel to become someone new, but in this moment, in this lifetime, he is very much due for a restart. How very impractical.

She only realizes she has spoken that last thought aloud when Thaos turns to slowly raise his eyebrows at her. “Impractical? After all these years, my Ianthina, do you of all people doubt the necessity of the Wheel?”

“Of course not,” she huffs. “But I do wonder why you must be cut off from the change inherent in the cycle. Why not come back as an elf sometimes? Surely the work you are called to do could be better served with more years in which to --”

“Ianthina,” he soothes, or chides. It is often much the same, she finds. “The interruption will be brief, child. And I have safeguards in place, that the work need not unravel in my absence. Among which safeguards, you know, is your role.”

“I know,” she nods. She is honored and proud that he has chosen her for this, to bridge the gap while his soul finds its way back from the Wheel. Respectfully, she lowers her head. “I will see it done, Your Eminence.” And then, because of the years between them and because of his slight frown at the customary title and because she is, after all, Berath’s high priest now as he is Woedica’s -- well, not quite as he is, she corrects her thought; no one’s role is quite as his is -- she raises her eyes with a cheeky grin and amends, “Thaos.” And he smiles. “All will be in order when you are ready to resume your place,” she assures him, “since, you will note, I am an elf and shall barely note the passing of those years.” But the catch in her voice betrays her flippant attempt at confidence.

He notices, of course. “Do not be so certain, High Priest of Berath, that your god will not usher you along this path sooner than you expect.” Stern words, but gently spoken, and as she nods, again lowering her head in respect, he reaches for her hand. “But not, I think, before I see you again.”

Berath gives, and Berath takes away. Her parents enjoyed nowhere near the span of years due their race. Ianthina first came to this place, fresh from that loss, to Thaos and his gods, for the comfort that if there must be Death in Life, there is also Life in Death. But loss has pursued her, and while there is comfort in knowing that mortal life begins anew as surely as it ends, the spaces in her life vacated by loss remain empty, monuments to memory of souls who for a while touched hers. She had a friend, sent to carry word of the gods to a far country too soon for Ianthina to go as well. It has been decades, and Glynis is probably still alive, though it is years now since they last exchanged letters, and orlan lives are shorter even than folk. She had a lover, training here with her, but he was swayed by Iovara’s teachings. It has been decades since the Inquisition shoved his soul back to the Wheel along with so many of the heretics.

It has been decades, too, since she found in Thaos a mentor -- a purpose -- a father. As he seemed larger than life, so she has been thinking him larger than Death. But the space in her life where his soul touches hers frays already at the edges.

It won’t mend when he is gone, she supposes, any more than the others. That empty monument will remain, while she takes up his tasks. For a time. She will note the passing of those years, perhaps, more than she has noted the passing years of their lives thus far. She may as well be counting down the days.

The gods turn the Wheel, but her hope in this case is more than the knowledge that his soul will return to life again, in some new life as all others do, unrecognizable to the friends who bear its loss. For he may approach the door as all others do, but he is indeed, in a sense, larger than Death. Woedica would not have her Favored welcome change as Berath bids the rest. So Ianthina will note the passing of the years, keep his house in order, and in no more time than it has taken them to grow so comfortable with each other, she will welcome him home again.

She smiles with this assurance. “Until then, I shall see that the craft of kith and wilder does not disturb what bones the gods have buried.”

He nods, something wry about the wrinkles at his eyes. “And no doubt be much kinder about it than I would.”

“Certainly, when I can.” She smirks, gripping his bony fingers lightly, but indulges him once more in the practiced argument. “Kindness can have unlooked-for returns. Would I still be here, at your side, if not for your kindness to me as an acolyte?”

His look grows fond, but then he fixes her with the Grand Inquisitor stare, the one he had always used when he thought only her respect for authority would make his next words palatable. It hasn’t worked on her in years, not really; but she always hears him out as surely as he hears her rebuttals. “You will do what must be done, though.” By his tone, he means it as a charge to do so, but really it is just the truth. She will. She always has. She returns his stare with a look of exasperation that says as much, wordlessly.

“And I will do it your way, when I must, and my way, when I can,” she assures him. Such has been their work together, all these years since she returned to him. In the Inquisition she saw his ruthlessness, unchecked; but in the aftermath she accepted the necessity of his purpose, if not his methods. With her loyalty came his trust, and with his trust came, bit by bit, the stories of the world into which his people birthed the gods. Eora is disorderly enough now, but without them.... Ianthina would not have his work undone. But she has done her part to limit the at any cost implicit in his mission. “I still think,” she adds after a moment’s hesitation, mindful that now may not be the best time to reopen this old argument, “the secrecy will turn on us, someday. I cannot be the only soul who would choose to follow the gods still, after knowing what they truly are. Io-” he winces, and she adjusts: “The apostate’s teaching was inflammatory in its nature, but any practical person who hears of our gods without sparing the truth of their origin should still see their value, their necessity, and --”

“Ianthina,” Thaos smiles, but she thinks his eyelids droop lower than they did minutes ago. “You overestimate the practicality of most kith. You, my dear, are an exception.”

She bristles. Then she sighs. She is practical enough to know he is right about most kith, after all. “Still,” she says in a small voice, “there must be some. Perhaps someday, we can let others in on the secret, not too many, but…”

“Promise me,” he whispers, “that in my absence you will not do anything rash.”

“No,” she murmurs, even as at that moment she feels his hand go slack, as her god’s chimes stir with his last breath, calling him onwards. “No, my father,” she whispers once more, “not without you. That can wait a lifetime.”

[wigglywormy]

forget the movie [kirishima/bakugou/kaminari, 2k~]

thx for the prompt! xoxo

---

They usually take turns on who’s in the middle during movie night, but if it’s a scary movie that Bakugou’s picked out, then Kaminari always gets dibs on the middle. Namely, because he’s fucking terrified of any and all horror movies and the only way he’ll sit down and watch it with Kirishima and Bakugou is if he’s snug in the middle, safe from harms way.

“Didn’t we watch a scary movie last time?” Kaminari complains, crossing his arms over his chest as Kirishima settles down to his right, warm even through their clothes.

“No. Kirishima made us watch all of the Shrek movies, remember?” Bakugou says, switching the lights off and then dropping down onto the couch on Kaminari’s other side. “Don’t be such a baby, this one isn’t even that scary.”

Kirishima snorts. “Don’t lie, Katsuki.”

“What?” Bakugou growls. “I’m fuckin’ not!”

“Does it have any jump scares?” Kaminari asks meekly. Bakugou sighs and wraps an arm around Kaminari’s waist. He stays silent though, and Kaminari takes that as a bad, bad sign. “Maybe, since you’ve obviously seen if before, we could watch something else - ”

“Denki,” Kirishima whispers, tossing his arm over the back of the couch and burying his fingers in Kaminari’s hair. “You know half the reason Bakugou picks these movies out anyways is because he secretly loves when you cling to him, you know.”

Kaminari feels his face heat up, and Bakugou grunts and reaches over to smack the back of Kirishima’s head. “Shut up shithead, the movie’s starting.”

Kaminari sinks further into the couch, Bakugou’s arm around his waist tightening in case he tries to run away from the film. Honestly, Kaminari could just close his eyes the entire time, but even the sounds and music scare him, god dammit. He’s never been a fan of horror, or halloween, or any of that freaky stuff. He’d prefer a good action or comedy any day, thank you very much.

The movie starts out a bit slow, but a jump scare hits the screen soon enough, around twenty minutes in.

“Fuckin’ lame,” Bakugou snorts, but then his gaze shifts to Kaminari, curled up in his side and clutching Bakugou’s shirt for dear life. His eyes are closed, squeezed shut tight, and Bakugou leans down so he’s whispering in the boy’s ear. “Oi. Open your eyes.”

Kaminari shakes his head, and Kirishima laughs as he drapes himself closer, kissing Kaminari’’s temple.

“C’mon, leave him be. If he wants to close his eyes the whole time, let him.”

Bakugou frowns. “No way. He made me sit through and pay attention to three whole romcom’s last month. Let him suffer.”

Kaminari peeks his eyes open for just a moment, but when something flashes on the screen he squeaks and shoves his face into Bakugou’s chest. “No. Nope. Nuh-uh.”

“Sparky,” Bakugou growls, tightening his fingers where they rest on Kaminari’s hip. His thumb brushes bare skin, where Kaminari’s shirt has ridden up, and the shorter teen shivers and yelps, clutching tighter at Bakugou’s shirt.

“What was that?” Kirishima asks, confused. “That wasn’t even a scary part, the protagonist is literally just eating lunch right now.”

“I’m just - ” Kaminari says, and he swallows when he hears Bakugou hum in thought. “Jumpy. I’m just jumpy, f-from the scene before.”

“Man, you really are scared of these types of movies,” Kirishima observes.

Kaminari is about to whole heartedly agree (maybe hoping they’ll both let him abandon the movie and save himself from nightmares tonight) but he’s interrupted with his own yelp when he feels a single finger pressing into the curve of his waist.

He tilts his head up towards Bakugou, and his eyes are on the screen, but he’s smirking, and oh no, this is bad. This is super bad, Kaminari thinks, slowly trying to inch away. The movie seems to have momentarily captured Bakugou’s attention, and okay, yes, this is his out, right here -

Right as he feels like he’s in the clear, Bakugou whips his gaze towards him before tugging him roughly back by the fabric of his tee shirt. Kaminari flails and gasps as Bakugou’s arm snakes around his waist, and this time, all of his fingers curl against his ribs on purpose.

Kaminari breaks down into giggles, but he quickly slams a hand over his mouth when Kirishima makes a noise of confusion.

“Okay, what’s going on here?” Kirishima questions, turning towards the other two boys on the couch.

Bakugou smirks. “Pikachu’s tickl - ”

“I’m not, I am not,” Kaminari says, waving his hands frantically. “I swear I’m... totally not.”

“Oh?” Kirishima says, widening his eyes at this new, incredibly interesting information.

“Yeah, watch this,” Bakugou says, hooking an arm across Kaminari’s chest to hold him still, then using his other hand to tickle his belly over his shirt.

Kaminari giggles and kicks his legs a bit, squirming in Bakugou’s hold.

“D-Don’t!”

“Wow, he’s super ticklish,” Kirishima grins, making Kaminari flush darkly as he tries to pry himself away from Bakugou’s exploring hands. “How come we didn’t know about this before?”

“Guys - ”

“Where else?” Kirishima pries, completely engrossed in this newfound information, because once Kirishima sets his mind on something, there’s no stopping the rampage that comes in its wake. He scoots closer on the couch, and there’s no malice in his voice, just genuine curiosity, when he says, “Where are you the most ticklish?”

Kaminari flushes. “But…. but I’m not - ”

Bakugou’s still got an around around his middle, so the sudden pinch to his ribs shouldn’t be all that surprising, but Kaminari still yelps and flails, luckily somehow managing to weasel out of Bakugou’s hold.

Right into Kirishima’s waiting arms.

“Damn, he’s slippery,” Bakugou comments, pressing close so Kaminari is sandwiched between them, half on Kirishima’s lap as he’s given up trying to escape and has finally accepted his fate.

“If you tell us, we’ll be nice,” Kirishima promises, but Kaminari knows them both. He knows Kirishima would keep his word. But Bakugou? Bakugou would probably literally kill Kaminari if he found out where he was the most ticklish -

If he was ticklish. Which he’s…. not. Of course. Not at all.

He decides playing oblivious is his safest option here, because none of his other options end in freedom anyways, so.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kaminari mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and averting his eyes to the ceiling as he feels Kirishima kiss the nape of his neck softly.

The movie is still playing in the background, but no one is paying attention to it any longer. Bakugou’s extremely close now, his hands gripping Kaminari’s knees, and when he smiles, it’s more like a sneer, full of a million and one ideas and promises that Kaminari knows he’s going to absolutely hate.

“I don’t like liars,” Bakugou says, squeezing right above Kaminari’s knees, which causes him to jerk and nearly kick his leg out. He refrains, somehow, and crosses his arms tighter.

Fingers wedging themselves under his arms surprise him though, and he makes a strangled sound and arches his back, his arms uncrossing from their position as he flails. Kirishima laughs, his fingers pausing for a moment but staying in place, and Kaminari prays to whatever gods are up there that his boyfriends are going to be nice to him.

The gods, apparently, aren’t listening very well tonight.

Bakugou bats Kirishima’s hands out of the way, and Kaminari nearly breathes a sigh of relief before he’s squealing as Bakugou’s fingers get shoved in his armpits instead, tickling like he’s searching for a damn confession (which, Kaminari guesses, he sort of is), and Kaminari can’t stop the broken gasp that escapes his throat.

It takes a moment, because Kaminari is pretty good at holding his ground, but once Kirishima’s hands find their way to his ribs, he bursts into a flurry of giggles and sparks, tiny electric zings shooting out from his hands as he squeezes his eyes shut and laughs.

“There it is,” Kirishima chuckles.

“Two against one is s-so unf-fair!” Kirishima protests, and when Kirishima noses behind his ear, Kaminari accidentally snorts around his next giggle.

Bakugou’s cheeks go a bit pink and his eyes lock with Kirishima’s. “Oh.”

“That was - ”

“Real fuckin’ cute,” Bakugou finishes for him, and Kaminari wants to die. Bakugou is so scarce when giving compliments, that when he does offer one unthinkingly, Kaminari knows he means it tenfold. He can’t tell if that’s more embarrassing or not, but either way, he wishes the couch would just swallow him whole at this point.

“He still hasn’t told us where he’s the most ticklish,” Kirishima pouts after a minute or two of torturing Kaminari.

“I got this,” Bakugou says, and then he’s gripping Kaminari face in his hand, his other hand still tracing teasingly along the grooves of his ribs. “Tell us, or we’ll do this all night.”

“Mean,” Kaminari pants, but he knows Bakugou isn’t joking. He pouts and averts his eyes. “If I tell you, you gotta promise to ….. To be nice, okay?”

He knows he can’t ask them to just not explore, because it’s gonna happen whether he wants it to or not. At least by asking this (because Kirishima is the loyal boyfriend, and he can trust the redhead to shove Bakugou off if he gets too intense) he can ensure he won’t, well. Die, or something.

“We promise,” Kirishima coos, and Kaminari shivers when Bakugou just nods silently.

“Um. It’s. Uh,” Kaminari stutters out, feeling his cheeks heat up significantly. “B-behind my knees?”

Bakugou immediately stretches one of his legs out, and Kaminari made the unfortunate decision to wear shorts today. He whines quietly and covers his face with his hands. Bakugou has one hand gripping his ankle, keeping his leg pulled taut, and as soon as a single finger strokes along the back of his knee where the skin is the most soft and sensitive, Kaminari’s whole body jerks, and Kirishima winds his arms tightly around Kaminari’s waist so he doesn’t topple everyone off the damn couch.

“Please - ” Kaminari gasps, but then he’s breaking down into hysterical giggles, snorting softly as his wasted attempts at pleading fall on deaf ears. His leg trembles as Bakugou grins at him, curling his fingers around Kaminari’s knee and using his nails to flutter against the skin, and it’s torture, oh god. Kaminari’s whole body feels electrified, and when Kirishima’s fingers curl against his stomach, prodding around his navel, Kaminari is sure he’s going to die.

“Damn, Sparky,” Bakugou comments, methodically and merciless tickling the skin behind Kaminari’s knee, occasionally drifting further up to pinch behind his thigh. “It’s that bad?”

“Y-yes - I can’t - ” Kaminari gasps and squeals, giving up on squirming aggressively and instead just writhing, defeated, in Kirishima’s arms. “Please s-s-stop!”

“Okay, okay, c’mon, Katsuki,” Kirishima says softly, and Kaminari almost sobs with relief when the hands stop completely. His body feels tingly, his face red and eyes damp with unshed tears, and he heaves a deep breath as he goes limp completely against Kirishima’s chest, his eyes fluttering a bit when Bakugou smoothes his palms up his legs, fitting himself fully in between them so he can lean forward and nose along Kaminari’s flushed cheek.

“That was fun.”

Kaminari glares, but there’s no real malice. “Yeah, for you.”

Kirishima laughs. “What Katsuki is trying to say, is that…. Well, it’s fun, because we like making you laugh!”

“Uhhgg,” Kaminari bemoans as his face heats up more, and he quickly covers his cheeks with his palms as he feels the warmth blossom. “You guys are so embarrassing. Don’t do that ever again.”

“Stop being so fucking cute, then,” Bakugou grumbles, sounding physically frustrated, and Kirishima laughs louder when Kaminari squeaks again in embarrassment and amazement because two compliments from Bakugou…. In one day? Kaminari feels blessed, and honestly, he wouldn’t really mind getting tickled every day, if it’s by his two boyfriends.

But only then.

[zacekova]

Fanfiction Master List

 Latest update: December 24, 2019

I changed my username a while back, so please let me know if any of these links are still broken so I can fix them. 

Akagami no Shirayukihime 

Series 

Arranged Marriage AU 

A Good Knight ( 1k | light angst | Shirayuki POV )

This Time After A Thousand Times (>1k | fluff | Obi POV )

Secret Lovers (Mitsuhide/Izana | Canon-Compliant | romance) 

Jealousy  ( 1k | humor | fluff )

Put Your Arms Around Me ( >1k | missing scene | fluff | cuddling )

Everything’s Fine (Obiyuki | 24k | CSI AU | Fast Burn) 

Chapter One 

One Shots 

Now I Just Can’t Hide It ( Obiyuki | 4k | Canon Compliant | Pining | First Kiss )

Drink of the Night ( Obiyuki | 793 |  Modern AU | Bartender Obi | First Meeting )

It’ll Be Okay  ( Obiyuki | 2k | Minor Character Death | Funerals | Grief ) 

A Turn For the Worse ( Obiyuki | 1k | First Date | Fluff | Light Angst ) 

A “Hope We Don’t Get Caught” Kiss ( Obiyuki | 299 | Kid Fic (barely) |  Married Flirting ) 

An “I’m Sorry” Kiss ( Obiyuki | 286 | Fluff ) 

One Time at Comic Con ( Obiyuki | 1k | Modern AU | Flirting ) 

Nightmares in Solitude ( Zen & Mitsuhide | <1k | nightmares | platonic cuddling | social anxiety ) 

Burden of Birth ( Izanayuki | 2k | Canon Compliant | Missing Scene | Angst ) 

Another Chance, For You ( Izanayuki | 9k | Reincarnation | Canon Compliant | Angst | Temporary Character Deaths )

Voltron

Series 

Waiting (Uliro | 9k | Ulaz Lives | Romance) 

Chapter 1

Home Isn’t a Place (Thulaz | On Hiatus | Historical Fantasy | Arranged Marriage) 

Chapter 1

Headwaters (Shiro/Kuron/Lance | Canon Divergent | Kuron Lives) 

Anabranch (Shurance | 15.9k | fluff and angst | hurt/comfort | love triangles | polyamory | post season 5 divergent) 

Whitewaters (Shirocest/Shuro | 58k | canon divergent | hurt/comfort | clones | romance) 

One shots  

Dairy Dilemma (Sheith | >1k | fluff + grocery store AU)

Show Me Your Scars (Shance | 1.5k | angst +soulmate scars + hurt/comfort)

Fade (Klance | >1k | angst + CD)

Legacy  (Keith & Kolivan gen | 1k)

Sanguinity (Katt | >1k | hurt/comfort + preslash + post s4)

Shingeki no Kyojin 

The Ship Story (Ongoing | Multi-shipping) 

Chapter 1  

Michigan Avenue  ( Reicon | 3k | AU-modern setting + AU - high school + meet cute + pre-slash + college visit)

Volcanic Wood and a Pliable Figure ( Reicon | 2k | Canon era + humor + established relationship + the floof is lava shenanigans)

Tsubasa; Reservoir Chronicle

Series 

The Phoenix and the Komainu (26k | On Hiatus | Magical AU) 

Chapter 1 

Kurofai Week 

Safe Place ( 1k | role reversal + protective kurogane + light angst)

One By One, They’ll Come Undone ( 1k | Fem!Fai + AU)

It Ends In Blood ( <1k | poetry + angst + open ended)

Uncommon Lullaby (<1k | post canon + established relationship + cuddling)

Donuts and Phone Numbers  ( 1k | Modern AU | Kid!Yuui + Adult!Fai + meet cute)

Morning Moon ( 1k | Nihon country + established relationship + fluff and angst)

Best Years of Our Lives ( 1k | post canon + family feels + happy ending)

The Phoenix of Fire, The Immortal Bird ( 1k | AU - mythology + CD + tragedy)

One Shots 

Soulmate Stains  ( 2k | AU - soulmates + Canon Compliant)

Monsters and Dreams ( <1k | nightmares )

Older Than I Look ( 3k | Canon era/compliant + Age difference + age confusion + angst + happy ending + implied relationship)

Unspoken Agreements ( 2k | NSFW | post canon + massage + first time + fluff)

Meeting Naked Strangers (857 | Onsen AU | meet-cute) 

Waiting Room (2k | Modern Day AU | Hospitals | first meeting) 

Gen Fic 

Wish I’d Stayed Inside My Mother ( Fai D. Flourite | 1k | Valeria | angst | Child Fai/Yuui | Insanity | Character Death)

Space Pirate Captain Harlock (Haryama) 

Series 

Saga of the Eyepatch Duo (Harlock/Yama|Logan | post-canon) 

The Freedom to Choose ( 9k | Canon Compliant | First Kiss )

Four Shades of Red ( 2k | Post-Canon | Humor )

Good Morning ( 896 | Post-Canon | Fluff )

Stupid ( 605 | Pre-Slash | Angst | Unrequited Love )

Important ( 538 | Post-Canon | Pre-Slash | Angst )

Enough ( 622 | Post-Canon | Pre-Slash | Angst )

One Shots 

Just a Little Punchline ( 2k | NSFW | Post-Canon | First Time ) 

Selfish Intentions (Gen | 253 | Introspection | Harlock ) 

Of Bees and First Impressions ( Harlock/Yama|Logan | 1k | Modern Day AU | Meet-Ugly | Fluff )

xxxHolic 

Unloveable (Douwata | 1.5k | Introspection)

Banana Fish

Stay By My Side (Asheiji | 2k | missing scene | first kiss)

Replacing Guilt (Singeiji | 8k | post-canon | grief/mourning | fix-it) 

Unconditionally (Shorasheiji | 1k | Shorter Lives | hurt/comfort)

Heart Language (Singeiji | 375 | post-canon | languages) 

Katekyo Hitman Reborn 

Trust (R27 | 1k | Post-canon | Protective Reborn) 

Relinquishing Control (R27 | E rating | 2k | Mild Dom/Sub | Top Tsuna) 

Strong Enough (Gen/Pre-slash R27 | 1k | Emotional hurt/comfort) 

[impalapiegirl67]

Abandoned

Summary: When Castiel goes off to be God, thanks to the Leviathans, he abandons his sister (Y/N). When Y/N is captured, things go very wrong. Her grace is taken and Y/N is now human and has no idea what to do…

Pairings: Castiel x sister!reader, Dean x reader, (mentioned): Sam and Bobby

Warnings: angst, language, fluff, violence?, Dean being a flirt (yes this is a warning because have you seen him)

Word Count: 1075 sorry not sorry :D

A/N: This was written for @luci-in-trenchcoats Michelle’s 2k follower celebration. My prompt is in bold. This is my first write, so I hope you like it. Also, this isn’t beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Flashbacks are in italics.

family(n)-a group of people who love an support each other through the good times and the bad.

Castiel is my brother. No. Castiel was my brother. Castiel used to care about me, when we were family. Now, hell... now I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen my brother. The last thing I remember is him dropping me off at a man named Bobby Singer’s house. The last thing he said to me was, “Sorry, I had to.” What did he have to do? Last I heard, he killed a lot of angels in heaven. Why did he do that? Ever since he left, I have nothing but questions.

They trapped me. Castiel said he wanted to meet and apologize for everything. Instead of an apology, I am trapped in a circle of holy fire.

It seemed all Castiel could do was hurt me, but I kept going back. Back to the fear, the pain, the loss, all of it. Why? That’s what you do for family. At least the way I saw it.

They are angels. Angels kidnapped me. All I could feel was a burning pain in my chest. I heard them whispering. No, please God, no. They were arguing  about killing me. What did I do? No, this is Castiel’s fault. He is the reason I got kidnapped. “Where is he?” I heard someone shout. This wasn’t right. If... was that Ezekiel? “Ezekiel”, I mumbled.

“Where is he?”, he yelled a little louder this time.

“Who, Castiel?”, my breaths are burning now.

“Yes”, he sounded cold and bitter. We were close, we used to be friends. Now, he was treating me like shit. I felt my eyes start to water. The scratch in my throat grew, “I don’t know.”

I trusted Castiel and he betrayed me too many times. I trust Bobby now more than I ever trusted Castiel. Bobby is my family.

They had an angel blade. Ezekiel and the short man were going to kill me. Ezekiel held the cold metal against my throat. My whole body winced. I could feel every ounce of pain. I wanted to scream, but my throat was burning. I feel empty. Like I barely exist, just enough to fill the void.

Looking in the mirror, I touched the scar, staring at it, wishing it would disappear. That night has haunted me for months. I was no longer an angel. All thanks to Castiel, the angel who ruined my life. My fist lunged into the mirror out of anger, shattering it into hundreds of pieces. I couldn’t feel anything but pain. Not from   the shards cutting my hand, but from everything else. At some point my brother stopped loving me. I was no longer good enough for him.

I didn’t have time to worry about that right now, though. Not with a pack of vamps to kill. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that. I’m a hunter. Have been ever since those assholes took my grace.

Tired and sweaty. I killed a pack of vamps and I’m tired and sweaty. I shrugged off my jacket, feeling slightly dizzy. Going into the bathroom I peeled off the rest of my clothes soaked in sweat and blood. I turned on the shower and let the hot water calm me down. All of a sudden, I heard banging on the door. I was in a motel, who would be banging on the door? I wrapped up in a towel, grabbed my gun and slowly opened the door. Two tall men, obviously hunters, dressed in flannel, and drenched in the smell of leather and whiskey were now staring down at me. The slightly shorter one had a certain look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. Shit. I’m still in a towel. “You boys gonna come in or just stand there and stare?”, I asked with a fake confidence, standing there and feeling extremely naked. “Uhhh... um... yeah”, the taller one said, leading the way into my motel.

“Hunters?” I questioned.

“How did you know?” they replied in unison.

“Takes one to know one.”,  I smirked.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” suddenly realizing again how naked I am.

“No, sweetheart, don’t worry about it”, I felt a chill about how the shorter, more attractive flirted with me.

“Shouldn’t you at least buy me dinner first?”, I giggled.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t say no to that sweetheart. The taller one with the long, shaggy hair looked annoyed. “My name’s Dean and this dork here is Sammy.”

“Pleasure finally meeting the Winchester legends.” shocked that these boys Bobby always talks about were so attractive. “The name’s (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)”

“So you’re the one Bobby’s been telling us all about. He loves how great of a hunter you are, he says you’re one of the smart ones, says you learned real fast. He didn’t mention how beautiful you were though.”

Feeling myself blush, I turned around to feel a burst of air and the sound of wings fluttering. Castiel. Immediately, I got up and slapped him. He was completely phased by my action. The brothers did look really cute with wide eyes in shock. That didn’t change the fact that I was angry. “You deserve that and so much more, asshole!”, I exclaimed, fighting back tears.

“Well it seems (Y/N) here already knows out pal Cas.” Sammy stated bluntly.

“Yeah, this idiot was my brother” I continued on with the story of everything that happened. I watched the brothers’ faces twist with anger as they listened, and looked at Castiel. After I told them, I felt relief to have finally told someone besides Bobby.

Dean stared between Castiel and me for what seemed like an eternity. He finally stared at Castiel, “You never give up on family. Ever”

Castiel then looked to me, eyes filled with sorrow, an emotion no angel should ever feel, “I know what I did was wrong, (Y/N), you are my sister and I never should have done that to you, I know I could never ask you to forgive me, but I was hoping to find you and apologize a long time ago, but after all the pain you have went through, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Could I try to make it right?”

I was so sad. Tears filled my eyes and blurred my vision, “I have waited for you to say that forever, Castiel.”