#just have to write ONE more conversation and the whole chapter is done. but DAMN if editing wont be a bitch

[clenastia]

i dont know why the running joke of this chapter is kakashi fearing for his kidneys. where did that come from. WHY did that come from.

i should probably cut that in editing it's a little ridiculous.

except it makes me giggle every time so maybe i should leave it there.

[rehfan]

La Belle Dame avec Merci -- Chapter 5: Time in the Shaft

Eddie Munson x Unpopular!AFAB!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only please - minor children DNI! – No Upsidedown; reader is technically a virgin; mutual pining; Eddie has trust issues; emotional hurt/comfort; female masturbation; male masturbation; emotional manipulation; reader is kinda shitty to Eddie; reader gets better; angst; more angst; Eddie’s mom is dead; small act of accidental physical violence; Uncle Wayne is the best; 

Tagged: @bluestuesday / @ali-r3n / @winchester-angel / @iletmytittiestitty-russ / @mewchiili / @chaoticgood-munson /

DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER SITE. My words are mine and mine alone.

Inspired by @/hard-candy-writing ‘s ORIGINAL POST

MASTERPOST LINK – AO3 LINK

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Once the doors closed, the space was suddenly stifling. You regretted wearing the cardigan sweater you had put on this morning. You moved to open it up with your free hand, but even the few buttons you undid didn’t help.  It also didn’t help that Eddie was silently boring holes into your head with his eyes.

“Well,” he said, “you got me where you want me. What now?” He pulled his hand away from yours and crossed his arms defiantly.

“I’m really confused. I know you’re kinda pissed at me for all the using you stuff, but you weren’t this angry two days ago. If anything, you were the opposite. What happened?”

Eddie couldn’t tell you. There was too much to tell. First, there was the conversation with his mom — which you were never going to find out about thankyouverymuch. And then there was pleading with Wayne until the old man relented, shaking a finger at him reminding him that he only gets two days if he’s not actually sick and dying before leaving the house with a slam of the door that night. And then there was all the moping and stress smoking and pacing and vegging out in front of the TV and jerking off to the thought of you and smoking weed on the roof of the trailer to forget his orgasms only to wind up watching the stars in their slow rotation and wondering what you looked like when you slept. And today. Today when he reminded himself of his own monster of a father.

No. He was definitely not telling you about any of that.

“Nothing happened,” Eddie shrugged. “I just got wise to myself is all.”

“And now I can’t even talk to you?” you asked. You needed to understand. You ached for him to understand. You hungered for him to wrap his arms around you, safe and secure, and kiss you again, to help you understand. Was he okay with you existing at all? Could you breathe the air next to him? Would that be permitted? Could you silently live in the knowledge that you were another human being on the planet that he didn’t mind so much?

He didn’t have to be in love with you. He didn’t even have to like you. He just had to not actively hate you. That was all. That was enough.

“You can talk all you like, sweetheart,” he said. Faintly, you heard the strains of guitars, vocals, and the thud of a bass drum from outside the doors. “All I’ve got to do is wait for four songs to roll on by.” Here he backed up to the wall behind him and sat on the floor, one knee up, forearm balanced on his knee. He regarded you with a cocked head and a stony expression. He waved a ringed finger in a slow circle, silently motioning for you to get on with it.

You took a breath. And then another. “Okay. So. Apologies should start with the obvious, so — I’m sorry, Eddie. This whole thing was my idea and it was a royally bad one. I used you for the purposes of getting back at all those assholes. I shouldn’t have done it. I should have considered the consequences. But I was just so fed up, you know?” Eddie didn’t indicate that he sympathized. He continued to simply silently stare you down.

“Okay, so maybe not. You’re always much more eloquent in expressing your frustrations. You just hop up on a cafeteria table and let it all out for the whole school to hear. Possible detention be damned. Me? I’m terrified of detention. I’ve never had it and I don’t want it. So I do other things. Like…” Here you took a pause to actually consider what you had done. The frantic delivery of your apology faded away into a dull realization: “Well… I guess I use people to get what I want.”

You regarded him again. “I never thought of myself as a bad person before, but lately, I’ve noticed that I can be a really bad friend.”

You had been pacing the length of the ample space, talking with your hands, trying to not look over at Eddie at all if you could help it. All your thoughts spilled out of your face and, as your body got to the end of the space, you turned, stalked to the other end and turned, stalked to the other end and turned…. But calling yourself a bad friend had stopped you. Your eyes searched Eddie’s. He was still unmoved. You looked away again, crestfallen. You resumed your pacing.

“I was terrible to you, Eddie. And I’m sorry. I didn’t start off this life intending to be a hateful bitch, but I guess I am.” The words caught in your throat, tight and sore. You swallowed past it hard. “Pathetic too. I mean, what was I hoping to accomplish anyway? I didn’t want to be the popular girl. What do I care what the preppy kids or the jocks think of me? I have a few friends who know me. They know none of those stupid Ice Queen rumors are true.

“I also have my schoolwork. The teachers know I’m a good student….”

Eddie was still staring at you, dark eyes tracking your pacing like he was taking in a tennis match, only something had softened in his glance. It was only a minuscule shift, but you could swear you saw it there. He was almost looking at you like he was listening and really seeing you.

You shook it off. No. You were mistaken. He couldn’t possibly care about the ramblings of a girl who had treated him so shabbily. You were making a hatchet job of this apology but you couldn’t stop the word-avalanche spilling out of your face. 

“But somehow, the way I’ve treated you has made me see myself differently. Like I’m not as squeaky clean as I thought I was. That I can be cruel and treat people without mercy. Christ, I never even thanked you.” A choked sob came out of nowhere and you clapped your hand over your mouth to stifle it. It embarrassed you. You didn’t mean to crack like that and the reflexive “I’m sorry” that came out of you had nothing to do with your need to apologize for your behavior, only the humiliation of your momentary weakness. You found the far corner again and faced into it, willing your body not to cry. Not here. Not now. But your body had other ideas. Your shoulders shook with your efforts.

You had been right: Eddie had not only watched you through all of this. He listened. He saw you. And he agreed with most of what you were saying with the notable exceptions of ‘hateful bitch’ (you had never been one of those), pathetic (not a word he would associate with you, even after your admission for the reasons behind the way you treated him and Gareth and Jeff thinking that you were), and ‘…without mercy. Christ, I never even thanked you’. 

That one struck a chord.

La belle dame sans merci rang through his head over and over. Without mercy. Without thanks. Without compassion. Without kindness. You could be single-minded, it was true. But you were in no way merciless. You backing off of the whole Sadie Hawkins thing was evidence enough of that.

You were trying hard not to cry and it killed him.

He found his feet and softly came to you as you faced the far corner. Gently, he laid his hands over your upper arms and you started with a gasp, bringing your head up suddenly. “Shhh,” he soothed. “Can’t stand to see a woman cry. Stop that now.”

A flash of his mother crying in her bed came to him. He had to have been only five or so. He remembered his small hand on hers and how she had gripped it as she sobbed. His heart had ached. He couldn’t help her. He didn’t know what to do. He was too little. So he just did what she had done when he was upset. He reached up and stroked her hair, carefully avoiding her swollen eye that was slowly purpling, “Shhhh.” he had told her. “Shhhh. It’ll be alright, momma.”

Eddie wanted to turn you around and kiss you so badly it was a physical ache. All he could do in that moment was rub your arms and hush you just like his mother taught him. Your scent was all around him and he closed his eyes.

“Please forgive me,” you said, your voice thick with tears. You still couldn’t face him. Your brain was spiraling downward into a self-loathing bottomless pit. “I never meant to be so cruel. I really didn’t. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

He nosed your hair. “Shhh,” he whispered, “just breathe. Just breathe. It’s all going to be okay.” The need to protect you was tangible but he didn’t realize what it was. All he knew was that you needed comforting and he was literally the only one available. If your one of your friends Marie or Gail or anyone else from your gang had been there, he wouldn’t have bothered. He really wouldn’t have. If they had been there it would have meant that you weren’t his problem because you weren’t his. And he wasn’t a girlfriend kind of guy anyway. Women were nothing but trouble. And when they cried…

Case in point: your tears. Jesus, a woman’s tears got to him like nothing else. It was a weakness he fortunately didn’t have to work on much because hardly any woman ever cried in front of him nor was he friendly enough with any of them lately for any girl to want to. Until now. Until you. He nosed your hair and memorized its scent and hated himself for his weakness the entire time.

And yet…he longed for this: for the intimacy of moments like this. The closeness that only could be had through time spent and secrets shared. Time he was not willing to invest because look where it gets you: a broken heart and loneliness all over again. His uncle Wayne was living proof. His mother was dead proof.

So he would comfort you. For now. Just long enough so you would stop crying because Jesus! He couldn’t stand it.

You regained your breathing with only the occasional hiccup, traces of the crying jag fading off. Eddie’s touch grounded you. His words were a balm. It was just what you needed. It felt like forgiveness. Was it? Was this him forgiving you? You turned in his arms.

“Better?” he asked. You wiped a tear away and nodded, not yet trusting your voice. “No more crying, okay?” he said. “Can’t handle it when girls cry. Always makes me feel like—“ he shook his head. 

“What?”

“Never mind,” he said. He turned and sat back where he had been.

Silence reigned between you. Only the faint strains of a distant Led Zeppelin song reminded you that you were on a time limit to sort this out. Cosmo was on the other side of the door and would probably play something even longer if you didn’t take care of this mess.

“No,” you said. Your quiet voice was loud in the room. “Go on. Girl’s crying always feels like what?”

“Like emotional blackmail. Like a lie,” he said frankly, gazing hard at you, trying to hit you with the words.

“Why?”

He didn’t want to tell you about Deb Garson, she had been the only other girl to cry in front of him besides his mom. The boys had been playing soccer in the school yard. The ball had been kicked hard, she had stepped in front of it and it hit her in the leg. She had shrieked, cried, and fallen down. Eddie had been closest to her, stupid enough to go to her, to comfort her, and her friends had come up behind him and laughed. Soon Deb was laughing. It had all been a trick to see which of the boys would race to her side first. “See! I told you he had a crush on you, Deb!”

“Ew! Eddie Munson has a crush on me? Ugh! Gross! Disgusting loser!”

Before Deb, a woman’s tears always called for comfort, for understanding. For weeks afterward, the other kids painted him with a brush that meant he was a sensitive sap. Someone to be ridiculed for being weak. And it was all Deb’s fault. 

Eddie’s hands became fists and he curled into himself all the more at the memory of her hateful laughter. “It just does,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“What happened?”

He glared at you now. Good lord, the power that boy held in his eyes. His gaze fairly held you against the wall. “None of your fucking business.”

“Okay. Jesus,” you said and sat opposite him. The interior of the elevator was decorated in framed vintage posters for bands from long ago. Clearly cheap reprints of the originals, but at least it gave you something to read besides the unreadable boy across the way from you. Jefferson Airplane, The Holding Company featuring Janis Joplin, and Jimi Hendrix all surrounded you and you focused your attention on them as you waited for Cosmo to open the doors. After all, you accomplished what you set out to do. The rest was in the hands of one Edward Munson, the unreadable boy, the angry boy, the boy that kissed you once and ran away.

“I liked it, you know,” you said. “Just in case you were wondering.”

“Liked what?”

“Our last kiss,” you said quietly, busying your hands with the buttoning and unbuttoning of the bottom button on your pink cardigan, not really sure why you were ashamed to admit it. “Looking into your eyes like that. You have really pretty eyes.”

He looked at you sullenly. “Thanks,” he said. “But I wasn’t wondering.”

“You really hate me that much, do you?” you asked, bracing yourself. He didn’t answer you. He looked collapsed onto himself, sitting there all hunched over, forearms resting on his bent knees, head bent slightly, as if the dingy floor of the elevator somehow held the secrets of the universe.

“Finally,” he muttered.

“What?”

He raised a finger toward the door and waved it in the air. “Stairway,” he said. “Last song before our freedom is granted.”

“I wonder if he’ll let us go,” you said to no one in particular. Lord knows you couldn’t talk to Eddie.

“He better,” he said.

“He said to fix this,” you said, “Those were his very words: ‘fix this’. I’m willing to fix this. Why aren’t you? I mean, okay, be mad, but don’t hate me. You know I’m just as much of an outcast as you are.”

“Just as much of an outcast, but you used me like all the rest, didn’t you, sweetheart?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“What?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “Like all the rest? What “rest”?”

“You know, the jocks and party kids who don’t want to actually invite me to party, but need my weed. So I get ushered in the back door and I sit off in a corner somewhere. Granted, I make a buck, but god forbid I go in to chat with one of the ladies. Or maybe grab a beer? Oh no. Completely forbidden.”

He huffed a laugh. “Hell, even the teachers do it! Just this year, Hawkins High’s finest teacher at the school, O’Donnell, had to ask my help to fix her stupid audio/visual issues. Missing cable connector. They wheeled the fucking thing in set up wrong. ‘Course, I made her sweat it out a bit, but what the fuck? She’s never taken it easy on me? Why should I afford her any—“

He was about to say ‘mercy’, but stopped short. He turned his head, sick of the conversation. Sick of feeling like the pawn in someone else’s chess game.

The guilt of your actions washed over you. You didn’t have a defense. Still, you wanted to offer him a bright shining example of selfless love, so you said: “I imagine your mother—“

He pointed a finger at you. “You do NOT get to talk about my mother.”

You made yourself small, curling your feet in, hugging your knees. Even your voice was small. “I only thought she would be the one to love you without condition or agenda. Her and your uncle.”

“My mother took off without me. Multiple times. Last time? She ran off into the fucking snow. Dad tracked her down - again. Only this time, when he saw her walking along the side of the road, he hit the brake, and when he did, the car hit some ice and swerved and—“ Now it was his turn to hug his knees.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you whispered, the walls carrying your voice around to him. “Did she-?” But a shot of his sullen angry eyes over the horizon of his forearms told you everything you needed to know. “I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight. Fuck. You weren’t supposed to know she died. That bit of information was secret. It was part of his control over you NOT knowing him. And he just gave it up like a fucking goddamned sap.

“You know what?” He hopped up and started banging the side of his fist on the doors. “Let us the fuck out, Cosmo!” He was yelling at the top of his voice and the sudden noise caused you to clap your hands over your ears. “Come on! All done! Let us the fuck out!” You were fairly certain that he would have pried at the doors with his fingers if it were a regular elevator whose doors met in the middle, but this was a freight elevator and the telescoping door passed over the whole opening left to right. There was nothing to claw at.

“COSMO!” Eddie cried, his voice breaking a little, “I swear to god, that old hippie’s deaf.”

You don’t remember getting to your feet, but you had. You went to him slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are a miracle, you know.”

He spun on you and you pulled your hand back. “What?” He met your eyes with another glare. For a moment, you lost your breath. He was gloriously angry. Like an avenging angel.

“I mean— I just— The, uh, the fact that all that happened and you’re still as kind as you are? Still as playful? Still imaginative? You know that’s a miracle, right?”

“Leave me alone,” he said.

“Yeah. Sure,” you said, taking a step back.

He turned back to the door and began pounding on it again. Silently, you watched, willing him to forgive you and give you that stupid grin of his. But he didn’t. He just kept on beating at that door, all white knuckles and tense tendons. You were going to have to live with him hating you forever, it seemed.

“You’re going to hurt your hand, Eddie,” you said. He ignored you. Eventually he opened his fist and slapped at the door with the heel of his palm, still shouting, still angry. “Eddie, please.” Now he kicked at the door, a picture of pure rage that only a toddler having a meltdown could have. You knew then, that the anger he was putting into destroying what he could of the steel in front of him had nothing to do with Cosmo or even you. This was something bigger. Something that ran deeper.

“You’re going to hurt yourself! Please, Eddie. Please!” You grabbed his left arm with both of your hands in a feeble attempt to spin him away to look at you, but he was too strong and with his one swift motion to shake you off, you were thrust backward and onto the floor. You had stumbled a few steps before feeling yourself go and so were able to cushion yourself from any real harm, but in the end, you were sprawled along the floor flat on your back, stunned at your current position.

You had cried out when he had shaken you off of him and it had stopped his rage. Instantly, the horror of what he had just done made him sick.

No. No. Nonononononoooo.

He was at your side in an instant hovering over you, hair framing his face, the ends tickling your cheeks, the door, his rage, and the deaf hippie forgotten. “Holy shit! Are you okay? Are you? Jesus fuck. I’m sorry. Christ, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I didn’t think— Are you okay? Please say you’re okay. I didn’t—“ his hands hovered around your face, your shoulders, open, pleading. He didn’t know how to touch you, if he was permitted to touch you, the terror taking all his confidence away.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I’m fine. Just a bit shocked, that’s all. You’re really strong.” You sat up slowly and Eddie, who had knelt at your side, now sat on the floor with you, arms open, hand in your hair, the other on your opposite arm, pulling you into his chest to be cuddled and cradled and soothed.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry so sorry so sorry. I’m so sorry—“

He rocked you. He was trembling. You could feel the thrum clean through him. “Eddie? Eddie, honey?” You looked up at him. “It was an accident. I know that. You aren’t violent. You’re just upset. It’s okay. It was my fault anyway. I was trying to stop you and I should have just waited for you to calm down, but I didn’t want you to break your hand.” You took one of his hands in yours and kissed the side of it where his fist had met the metal. “You wouldn’t be able to play your guitar if you did.”

Your words were so real, the sound of them so sincere, it broke his heart. Of course he was violent. He knocked you over, hadn’t he? He was just like his father. The realization of it in the moment had ripped him apart. But now you making excuses for his behavior just like his mother used to do with his father. But you were kissing him. Kissing his hands better. No one besides his mother and uncle had ever bothered to heal or protect him. Especially from himself. 

He didn’t understand you. All he knew was that receiving your concern didn’t feel natural to him. I don’t deserve—, he thought, his eyes welling with tears. I’m too…angry. I’m too much. I’m too much of a freak. Too much of a monster.

Your lips found his instantly. His stilled in response before eventually slowly melting into your touch. His hand fell from yours to your waist and his other cradled your shoulders as the kiss lingered. You brushed a hand to his cheek, feeling the five o’clock shadow there, letting him hold you and take comfort from you. 

His uncle had tried to teach him about grace when he was about twelve. “Grace, when given,” his uncle had said, “is a beautifully divine thing. A real gift from God.” 

“But what is it?” he had asked.

“It’s when we don’t allow the flaws of others to stop us from loving them anyway. We love past them. That’s God’s grace. Grace and mercy exist hand in hand.”

Now he thought he understood. Eddie felt nothing but God’s grace in your kiss. It wasn’t a grace he felt he deserved, but it was there for him anyway and he took it gratefully. And when the kiss broke, it was like seeing you for the first time. The scales that covered his eyes, the ones that were made of mistrust, were slowly falling away. They weren’t all gone. That would take time. But they were going.

He kissed you back. He felt you return it.

And there was no one there to trick or fool into thinking that you liked him. You had kissed him because you wanted to. Because you liked it. And he kissed you back. And you hadn’t shied or pushed him away.

Still, a dark voice in his head whispered, the one that always carried his trauma around like an embarrassing photo album to show off all the sordid and ugly memories of past betrayals and lies at the first opportunity to whatever happiness or hope he had harbored about anything. Still, it whispered, she could be playing the long game. You never knew with women.

Your second kiss broke and before you could say anything there was a low rumble and the door slid open with a creak and groan. Cosmo stood there with Jeff, Grant, and Gareth. Cosmo looked positively delighted. The rest of the boys did not.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” said Gareth.

“I’m not sharing pizza and a listening sesh with the Ice Queen, dude,” said Grant who turned away back toward the sitting area. Jeff silently followed with a shake of his head. Gareth crossed his arms, stood his ground, and glowered, the young angry beardless opposite of Cosmo’s joyful bearded expression. 

“I’d better go,” you said softly but you didn’t get up. You wanted to feel his arms around you for just a few seconds more. “I know I won’t see you tomorrow at the dance, but will I see you on Monday?” you asked, stalling for even more time, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that you hadn’t taken your hand from his face.

He did notice. Your hand was warm, but that could also be the heat of his own face with the embarrassment he felt getting caught kissing you by his best friends. And after all they had done for him to get rid of you. Because you were evil. And a user. And manipulative. And beautiful. And lost. And really really sorry.

His confusion bred anger. He released you and stood up. “Leave me alone,” he said and walked past a concerned and disappointed Cosmo. Gareth joined him in his retreat with a hand on his shoulder that you noticed Eddie shook off. “Not a word,” Eddie told him as they joined the other boys.

You sat on the floor of the elevator just watching him go. Was that kiss forgiveness? Was it just him letting you so that you would shut up? It hadn’t felt like either. A hurt settled in your chest and you couldn’t shake it.

Cosmo came to you and offered you a hand up. “I’m so sorry, my dear,” he said, “I think the lad just needs some time. Perhaps if I speak to-“

“No,” you said, patting the hand he put around your shoulders fondly, wanting the pain of Eddie’s attitude not to hurt like it did. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the back of his head as he flopped into the space on the couch you had just occupied. “I don’t want you to do anything else. I wouldn’t want your thing with the boys tonight to crumble into nothing. Just have some pizza, listen to some music, and have a good night.” You held your hand out for him to shake. “I made my apology. His acceptance of it is up to him. Nice to meet you Cosmo. Thanks for trying.”

He shook your hand with a sad smile and you willed yourself not to cry on the drive home. You succeeded and it added to your resolve; he wasn’t going to get any more tears from you and that was that. If he didn’t want to forgive you, that was his problem. Monday at school, you would just go about your day.

As you flopped on your bed, barely making it past your parents’ inspection without having to explain your emotional state, you stared at the ceiling and tried not to torture yourself with all the things you should have said or done that would have made everything all right between you two. After all, you had no idea what you could have done differently. You didn’t know what the secret code was to crack his heart open. And you didn’t know why you even wanted his forgiveness anyway! Weren’t you happier before your stupid idea to kiss him? Weren’t you far more content on your own? Ruling your own little ice kingdom?

You would just have to go back to that. You would just have to forget him and his conspiratorial smirk and his rumbling voice and his smell and his eyes. You would have to forget the cool confidence in his strut through the halls. His warm hands on your hips as you pulled him close to fake yet another kiss.

Nope. No way. You didn’t need that. You didn’t need him. Not at all. He was just another distraction. 

All of this and more you said to yourself over and over as you got ready for bed.

“He’s not mine,” you said to the darkness of your room. “He’s not mine and he never was and he never will be.” The tears that streamed out of the corners of your eyes and across your temples into your hair and ears meant nothing, of course. They certainly had nothing to do with the fact that your heart was breaking into a billion pieces.

~080~

Eddie didn’t want any pizza after you left. He sat in your old seat, turning his head into the cushion, trying to capture your scent there. He thought he could detect it, but Grant held a pizza slice under his nose and it was gone. He took it from him with a wan smile, but his heart really wasn’t into the whole vibe that night. Eddie the Bold made a valiant attempt, however, even finding a laugh or two inside himself, enough jolly peaceable emotion to appease the others around him even if Cosmo kept a perspicacious eye on him the whole evening.

“You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?” he had whispered to him quietly at one point in the evening. Eddie returned a glare that he hoped would melt the polar ice caps and said nothing. Cosmo sighed and settled a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You could do worse, my boy. She clearly cares for you.”

But Eddie didn’t want you to care for him. What could he offer you in return anyway? He mulled over this on his way home. Turning off the engine, he stared at the trailer he called home. Your home was probably large and sturdy; his hadn’t been updated since ‘71. As he went up the stairs, hearing the familiar creak and slap of the screen door as he entered, Eddie was sure your doors didn’t creak or have screen material that needed to be repaired every spring. He was sure your parents would be home when you got there while his lone relative was pulling night shifts so that they could have the essentials. He sat heavily on his bed and looked around. His room was a pit. “Organized chaos” Wayne called it. Yours was probably pretty and pink and frilly. And clean. Probably really clean.

Clean like the smell of your hair.

Eddie lay on his unmade bed and closed his eyes. He wanted to fall into a dreamless slumber, but the image of you in his arms tonight was burned on the inside of his eyelids. The splay of your hair beneath him, the look in your eyes as your hand came to his face. The feel of your mouth against his.

His erection was undeniable. He palmed at it and grunted. Either he could take care of himself now or wait for his hardness to fade. “Goddamnit,” he muttered.

Unfastening his trousers quickly, he licked his palm and reached into his boxers, tugging at his shaft in practiced strokes. He thumbed over his wet slit and moaned your name, picturing that perfect mouth around his tip. He wondered if you would suck his dick or if you thought it was gross. Probably not. But if you did? You’d be a student of the art. Perfect pressure, perfect rhythm. Just like you were using on him now. Your soft warm tongue circling his glans, flicking at his frenulum, your fist grasping and stroking him perfectly. He watched your head bob against him and he held your head gently, not pushing, but loving the feel of your hair, caressing it.

“Oh thank you, baby,” he whispered. “So good to me. Such a good girl. Don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away long enough to whisper back, “You do deserve it, Eddie. You deserve the fucking world. Love you.”

He fell into the feeling, the warmth in his chest, the tightening in his throat, all of it caused by the sight of you fellating him out of sheer love alone. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be, but he let himself believe it just this once.

He threw himself into the thought of being yours for real. Knowing for sure that you wouldn’t get up and leave him. Knowing he wouldn’t be the butt of some joke the next day at school, an act of cruelty he had foolishly not suspected. Knowing that he could show you real affection and real dedication out loud and in front of everyone with no shame attached. God, would you stay with him? Live with him? Marry him? Fuck, would you have his kid?

His balls tightened. His breathing became stuttered and he braced his feet against the mattress as his back arched. Frantically pumping at his cock, he came and cried out your name.

Catching his breath, he reached up behind his back with one hand and pulled off his shirt, wiping his skin clean with it and tossing it across his room. His messy chaotic room that still looked like a fucking pit. 

You weren’t there anymore. The image of you vanished like smoke in the wind once he came. You never would be there either. Eddie honestly couldn’t picture it. Not for real. Why would you be? You'd probably turn tail the moment you saw the outside of his trailer - never mind the inside. And why would he want you there? You were confusing and frustrating and filled with contradictions. He didn’t need that. He didn’t need you. And for the next two days he was going to harden his heart against you. He would avoid you like the fucking plague, no matter what his dick said.

It was going to be a long fucking weekend.

*****************

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Widow - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Summary: Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: "Family Don't End with Blood," takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her, is what happens when she falls in love again?   

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F!Reader (past) | Dean Winchester x F!Reader (eventual)

Warnings: grief, angst, fluff

Words: 2,450

A/N: I am so sorry for making so many of you cry or get emotional from the last chapter. Although I made myself cry writing it, but I never thought it would have the same impact on the readers *hugs*. This one shouldn’t be so bad 🫣💖

You can catch up here!

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One Month Later

Grief is a funny thing; on the good days, you can function like a normal adult by eating and sleeping quite well. But on the bad days, you stay on the sofa just staring at the wall, wearing pyjamas that – like your hair – haven’t been washed in days, and you can’t remember the last time you ate because everything tastes like ash.

Today though, is a good day. You’ve eaten, showered, done the laundry, and now you’re washing the dishes from the lunch you had with John and Dean. One of those things on its own is a huge achievement, and the fact you did them all feels like it should be worth celebrating, but your sense of accomplishment is whipped away just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Have you thought any more about clearing out Sam’s things?” John speaks softly and carefully, like he’s dealing with a caged animal. But when he’s met with silence from you, he lets out a sigh. “Darlin’, it’s not healthy staying cooped up in the house all day surrounded by his things.”

“Dad…” Dean attempts to shut down the conversation.

“Look,” John continues, ignoring his eldest son’s plea. “I know you’re hurting, believe me, I do. And honestly, it’s gonna be like that for a long time. Maybe even always. I’m just trying to make it easier for you. All these things you’re doing,” John gestures around the open-plan living area of the home you shared with your late husband, “aren’t healthy.”

You don’t need this right now. This is a good day. So, you do what you always do when John brings it up; you walk away.

Dropping the plate back into the soapy water, you quickly dry your hands, pick up the basket filled with clean laundry from the kitchen table, and walk away. You know it’s childish, but his argument is one you don’t want to hear because you know he’s right. You know seeing Sam’s things everywhere doesn’t help. You know wearing clothes that still hold a little bit of his scent will only prolong your grief. And you know that calling his number to hear his voicemail message several times a day isn’t healthy. You’re just not ready to let go yet. And that’s something neither he nor Jody seems to understand.

“Dad, you need to drop this. She’s grieving,” you hear Dean say as you step into the hallway. “Do you want to push her away? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t leave her be!”

“I’m only trying to help, son,” John sounds defeated, and you pause to listen to what else they have to say about you. “She’s a good girl, Dean, and she’s choosing to waste away by locking herself in this damn house day after day!”

“Sam only died last month! Her husband has only been dead for six weeks,” Dean yells. “He’s barely cold in the ground, just let her grieve!” 

You smile softly at the way Dean always has your back. That’s why the days he comes to check in on you are your favourite. He listens and understands you – or at the very least, pretends to. He gets why you’re still holding on. He gets that it’s not as easy as putting your big girl panties on and getting back on the horse. You lost your husband. The love of your life. You don’t just get up, dust yourself off and walk away from that. And Dean seems to be the only one who understands, which surprises you because John lost Mary when he was around your age and you thought that might make him understand what you’re going through a little more.

You hear John sigh, and from the scratching sound, run his hand over his stubbled face. “I just hate seeing her hurting. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her do anything other than smile, and now, I never see that smile. Some days, like today, that hurts more than the loss of my son.”

“I know, dad. I miss her smile too, but she’s going through a process, and she’ll take her own time to do it. What she needs is for us to be supportive and stop pushing her to move on before she’s ready.”

You smile again, grateful beyond words that Dean gets it. Gets you. He’s always been good at reading people and emotions. He knows you better than you know yourself. Better sometimes, than even Sam did.

You’ve heard enough and make your way upstairs to put the laundry away, taking the time to stop, breathe, and reset because today is a good day.

Deciding you’ve hidden away upstairs long enough, you make your way back down to your guests, but stop short when you see John standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“I gotta get going, darlin’. I’m sorry if I upset you, it wasn’t my intention. I’m worried about you and trying to help.” he steps towards you and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I know,” you smile softly. “And I appreciate it… Sometimes.” You smirk, and John chuckles.

“I’ll see you in a few days, alright? I’ve been putting this hunting trip with Bobby off for a couple of weeks and I’ve run out of excuses!” he chuckles again.

“It’ll do you good to get away. You work too hard, and you’ve been taking care of me too, you deserve a break.” John’s been getting the family business ready for Dean to take over for the past few weeks, and you have the suspicion he isn’t quite as ready for retirement from Winchester Auto Repair as he says he is.

“Alright, I’m going. Dean, take care of our girl. Y/N, take care of Dean,” he jokes, and you let out a bleat of laughter, the sound now so foreign to the men in your hallway that they grin like little kids on Christmas morning. With a hug and another kiss on your forehead, John heads out.

“I’m sorry about dad, sweetheart. When mom passed, he didn’t have a choice and had to keep going because of me and Sammy, you know? I think he thinks everyone should be able to do the same.”

“I get it, I really do. But I don’t have anything to fight for, and I feel like I’m barely treading water most days,” you chuckle sadly. “Jody says the same kinda things, you know?” You glance up at Dean and see he’s got his whole attention on you.

“Her latest is: ‘Honey, when are you gonna stop wearing his clothes? Surrounding yourself in his scent constantly is tricking your brain into thinking he’s coming home…’” You mimic Jody’s voice perfectly, albeit a little whinier than she really is, causing Dean to chuckle. “I know she’s right… and so is your dad, just don’t tell them I said that!” you point at Dean in warning, and he holds up his hands.

“Your secrets are safe with me, sweetheart. No one needs John Winchester knowing he’s right about anything,” Dean chuckles before asking the question you know is coming. “So, if you know they’re right, what’s holding you back?”

“Because some days it comforts me. Wearing his clothes, smelling him, seeing his stuff exactly where he left it, makes me feel like he’s still here. Like literally here, watching me,” you sweep your arms around you, “and that makes me feel safe and comforted and loved. And I’m not ready to give that up yet.”

“You said some days,” Dean brings up. And of course, he picks up on that.

“What?” You ask, in a bid to delay the inevitable.

“You said, ‘some days it comforts me’. Are there days it doesn’t?” 

“Me wearing his clothes, leaving his stuff around… it’s my choice. But sometimes I catch his scent when I’m not expecting it or find something in a drawer, and it hits me so hard, and I feel like I’m drowning in anger and grief and I–” your voice catches and you stop to take a deep, shaky breath. “Those are the days that kill me. The days I don’t move from the couch or even get out of bed. It’s like if I do these things – even though I know it’s not healthy – it feels better when it’s a choice I have and not forced on me.”

“So, it’s about controlling your grief?” Dean questions and it makes you stand a little straighter and give him your full attention. “They say the last stage of grief is acceptance, right?” He looks at you with a raised brow and you nod your head. “Sweetheart, I think you’re almost there, standing right at the line, but you’re not ready to cross it.”

“What are you, my therapist?” Your attempt at joking falls flat because you know he’s hitting the nail on the head.

“Hey, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just trying to understand where you’re at and what’s stopping you from getting to the other side.” He stares at you intensely, and you can feel the heat rise from your neck. “Come on, sweetheart, help me out here. I just wanna figure out what’s going on in that pretty head of yours to see if I can help.”

“What if crossing that line means I’m forgetting him?” You mumble meekly.

“Y/N/N–” Dean starts but you cut him off, realising the need to say it out loud.

“If I clear out Sam’s things, get rid of all his clothes, put the photographs away, I’m removing every trace of him from this house. Our house. What if by doing that, and without seeing those reminders of him every day, it makes me forget him?”

“That’s never gonna happen, Y/N. Your relationship with Sam, your love for him and his for you, will always be a part of you,” Dean takes your hand and pulls you with him to the sofa and sits you down. Rather than take the seat next to you, he sits on the coffee table facing you. “I can tell by the look on your face you don’t believe me, so let me ask you a question.”

“Okay.” You’re dubious but agree anyway.

“Who was your first love? And I don’t mean Sam,” Dean states before you can try that argument. “I mean your first, first love. I’m talking like middle school and the first guy you thought you couldn’t live without.”

“Billy Richie.” It comes out of your mouth before your brain fully registers his question.

“What was Billy like?” Dean smirks, and you grin back at him, understanding where he’s going with this.

“He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a really cute smile. Oh! And he wore a leather jacket all the time, whatever the weather,” you giggled. “He sat next to me in Math class, he was always chewing gum and would wink at me every time he sat down.”

“Oh, Billy was a bit of a bad boy, huh?” Dean chuckles.

“Nah, he was a big teddy bear. He just looked the part.” You smile at the memories Billy Richie is stirring up. “He was my date to prom, and my first kiss.”

“And with that smile on your face, sweetheart, I’d say you remember him just as well now as you did fifteen years ago,” Dean holds your gaze, even gently pulling your chin towards him when you try to look away. “My point is that if you can remember bad boy Billy Richie so clearly after fifteen years, you’re gonna remember Sam even clearer in fifteen years because he was your husband.” Dean leans forward, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I get that you’re not ready to take that final step, and trust me, I have your back against anyone who tries to push you over that hurdle before you’re ready to make the jump. And when you do jump, I’ll be right here with you.” Dean smiles softly as he takes your hands in his. “But I do want you to think about doing one thing for me,” Dean’s voice is kind and gentle, and you know whatever he’s going to say to you is a suggestion rather than an order.

“I would really like you to think about going back to work. Seeing people, getting out of the house and having a distraction for a few hours a day will do you the world of good, sweetheart.” 

Dean stares at you with such intensity and all you can see is how much he cares about you. It’s clear that he thinks this is the best thing for you, and the more you think about it, the more you agree with him.

“You know what? I’ll think on it a little more, but I think you might be right,” your answer is not what Dean expects by the way he looks like he’s just won the lottery.

“Awesome,” Dean declares. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, The Lost Boys is on tonight. Wanna order pizza and watch it?” He grins at you, and you can’t help but smile at how boyish he looks when he does that.

“Dean, it’s Friday. Don’t cancel your plans with whichever girl is your flavour of the week to spend the night in with me,” you tease.

“I, uhm,” he rubs his hand over the back of his neck, “haven’t had those kinda plans since the night Sammy…” he doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. “Even if I did,” he continues, “One: you are much more important than some girl in a bar, and two: I’d much rather spend the night watching movies with you.”

“Dean–”

“I mean it,” he insists. “You’re not a burden or an inconvenience – I know that’s what’s running through your head, don’t even try to argue with me! So, are we watching this damn movie together or are you gonna make me go home and watch it by myself? All alone. On a Friday night.” Dean’s feigned grumpiness makes you laugh.

“Fine! I’ll order the pizza! But I don’t have any beer, so if you want some, you’ll have to go to the store.”

“On it!” Dean stands and leans over to press another kiss on your forehead, something that was second nature to all the Winchester men where you’re concerned, but you aren’t going to complain about the sweet gesture. “You need anything else?” he asks as he picks up his car keys.

“No, all good. Just… please promise me you’ll drive safe,” you beg, worrying at your bottom lip.

“Always, sweetheart. I promise.”

Next Chapter>>

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castiel x reader chapter 14

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Sam and Dean. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since there are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

word count: 2,833

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural

I got the divider from

Firefly Graphics

Cas’s POV

Orders, obedience, and being a faithful soldier never mattered to me to go against until I met the Winchesters until I met her in particular. My orders to save Dean Winchester I did without thinking twice I did everything asked of me. My whole existence had never been that important until my garrison got the order to save the Winchester from Hell. But before I saved him I saved his sister.

About two months before we got the order I heard one of the biggest cries of help I've ever felt from a human. Angels aren't supposed to answer prayers. That was God’s job but no Angel had seen him in so long all we had was orders from some higher power that I had never seen. So I did something I never thought I would, I answered her prayer. I flew down and I didn’t have a vessel but I did have a presence.

“I don’t know what I’m doing out here I- I'm just so tired so whatever is out there I'm begging you.” She was sobbing on her knees now. “Bring him back! Bring him Back!” I didn’t know what to do. I had never seen human emotions like this before. So I did the only thing I could do.

I lifted my wing and put it on her shoulder as I did something happened, I felt her pain, happiness, and joy. I have never felt really before. It was an overwhelming experience but wonderful at the same time. She began to stop and looked around for what had helped her but couldn't see me so she got up and whispered “Thank you.” That was the first time Y/n Winchester made me feel something but it wouldn't be the last.

Y/N’s POV

After we arrived back at Bobby’s I went straight to sleep pretty sure I had a concussion but I didn't have time to worry about that. We had to find Sam. I woke up to the sounds of Bobby and Dean talking well more like arguing. “Yeah, I heard you. I'm not calling him.” That’s when I walked into the conversation. “What do you mean Dean of course we are calling him.” Dean ignored my sentence. “How’s the head kid.” “I'll live now why won’t you call Sam!?” “We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?” “Really! Our brother is not important right now. Dean this is when he needs us now more than ever!” “I know you're pissed. And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your–” Bobby added in. “Blood? He's my blood, is that what you were gonna say?” Dean snapped back.

“He's your brother. And he's drowning.” “Thank you, Bobby!” “Bobby, we tried to help him, we did. Look what happened.” “So we try again Damnit!” “It's too late.” I scoffed at him. “There's no such thing.” Bobby is trying so hard to convince him because my words aren't doing much. “No, damnit! No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again. Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants.” “How could you say that Dean! Just because he wanted his own life he’s what, no longer our brother!?” “You don't mean that.” “Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was.” I gasped and started to tear up.

Bobby looked pissed off to all seven layers of Hell. Knocking things over. Getting in Dean’s face. “You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!” “I told him, "You walk out that door, don't come back" and he walked out anyway! That was his choice!” “You sound like a whiny brat. No, you sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward.”

I had never heard Bobby talk about Dad like that. It felt good. “My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?” “He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him. And blame N/n for your Mom’s passing. Well, that don't strike me as brave. You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do both of us a favor. Don't be him.” “Dean he’s right you have always been better than Dad.” Dean was facing the window he turned back to respond and I blinked and when I opened my eyes again I was in a room that I'd never been in before.

“What… the… fuck maybe I should have gotten my head checked out.” The room was traced out in gold and famous art hung on the walls. It looked like a room that would cost a thousand dollars just to get in. “This is real Y/n and you do have a small concussion. “Of fucking course.” It was Zachariah.

“So what is all this and where the Hell is Dean.” I gestured around the room, and then I noticed in the middle of the table were all my favorite snacks and drinks. “This Y/n is a waiting room and to answer your second question that you asked so nicely he’s in the other one.” “What am I waiting for?” “Well, it’s really to hold you from stopping your brothers.” He saw my confused face. “You know that face is almost cute, if we let you go you would try to stop Sam and we can’t have that.” “Why!?” “Because it is Dean’s destiny, not your’s. Your’s is to support from the sidelines because sweetheart you were born for the sidelines.” I never wanted a knife in my hands more. He picks up a drink and sips it in satisfaction. “Oh, I heard about your little spat with Castiel so Sad.” I didn't even have a comeback. “I'll come get you when everything is said and done… maybe.” He disappeared with his stupid smirk. I sat down thinking how the Hell I would get out of this one.

I pick up my phone and give Sam a call and of course no answer. At least I can leave a message “Sam I know you feel guilty about hurting us. But the thing is I already forgive you because I know you. You my big brother who has always been there for me, you taught me that it was okay to want something more than this life that we got sucked into because of Dad. I don’t think I ever told you but uh I was so proud of you for Stanford I am still. So please whatever happens know I lo-”

The message got cut off. I threw the phone and as I did it passed Cas. “I heard you got hurt.” “Oh so suddenly the distraction can get medical help.” “Y/n please.” “No, you know what Cas I have never seen you as a way to get things. I have always chosen this friendship over that! I don’t know what got in you but right now that doesn't matter I need you to bring me to Sam.”

“Have you forgotten what happened the last time you met?” “No. That's the whole point. He needs us.” “No.” “What do you mean, no? Are you saying that I'm trapped here?” “You can go wherever you want.” “Great, then I want to see Sam.” “Except there.” “Of course. Whatever screw you, I'm out of here.” I walk towards the door. “Through what door?” I look again and the doors and Cas are gone.

I pick up a mini-statue and start to hit the wall one way or another I was going to get out of here. I hit the wall so hard that dust flew in my eyes I went to rub them and when I went back the wall looked brand new. “Really! Fuck!” I threw the statue down and it smashed in pieces. “You and your brother could be twins with how you're like monkeys.”It was Zachariah. “Let me go.” “Like I said we can't have you stop Sam that is Dean’s job.” “I think that’s bullshit because why does it matter who stops him as long we stop… you don’t want it to stop do you?” “You're smarter than I thought and nope. Never did. The end is nigh. The apocalypse is coming, kiddo, to a theater near you.” He’s so smug in his words.

“And the seals?” “Our grunts on the ground -- we couldn't just tell them the whole truth. We'd have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it. Would we really let 65 seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way?” “And Cas is one of those grunts.” He laughs at my words. “You know this little friendship between the two of you was cute in the beginning but now it’s just annoying. Of course, he is, sweetheart I mean that’s all he was ever and all he is going to be.” “Why the apocalypse?” “Why not? The apocalypse? Poor name, bad marketing -- puts people off. When all it is is Ali/Foreman. On a... slightly larger scale. And we like our chances. When our side wins -- and we will -- it's paradise on earth. Now, what's not to like about that?” “What about all people in your pissing match.”

“Well... you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case... truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. Look... it happens. This isn't the first planetary enema we've delivered.” He sits down on the couch like it was a throne. “ “What about Sam? He won't go quietly. He'll stop Lilith.” “Sam... has a part to play. A very important part. He may need a little nudging in the right direction, but I'll make sure he plays it.” “What the hell does that mean?” “Don’t worry as I said that it is for Dean.” “Tell me something. Where's God in all this?” “God? God has left the building.” That left chills down my spine.

I tried to call Sam and Dean but of course, all I got was busy signals. It was like being a kid again being kept on the sidelines while my brothers and Dad hunted. I hated it then and now I despise it. I hear those damn wings flutter. “You won't be able to reach them Y/n.” “What are you going to do to Sam?” I asked him not daring to look up, already knowing the answer. “Nothing. He's gonna do it to himself.” “And what does that even mean Cas?” I finally looked at him. “Right I mean I’m just a distraction so why tell me anything.” I chuckled dryly. “I don't even know why you're here?”

“You are a not distraction!” “Really! What changed your Damn mind!?” “I thought about everything we’ve been together and you never used me for my powers I just didn't want it to end like this.” “What? Me mad at you because you hurt me. When you call someone a distraction you don’t just say sorry and everything is dandy Cas.” “I mean what does our friendship mean to you cause I'll tell you what you mean to me!” At this point, my emotions were in charge of everything.

“Cas you saved me, without you, I probably would have made a deal with the devil himself to get Dean back! You have been the one light that has not burned out on me. You're my best friend. I would take all the pain in the world for another second of banter from my brothers. Another Idjit from Bobby. Another minute of you being happy is what our friendship means to me, what about you?” I ended with tears rolling down my face. He didn't answer. “You know what my brother is about to die because of a destiny put together way before we were ever even a thought of our brothers I would like to spend my last hour thinking about my family instead with a spineless coward so go.” “Y/n-” “GO!” He flies and I fall to my knees crying out soul.

I didn't even know what to think or to feel. I am a whole mess of emotions. I was never going to see my brothers or Bobby again and … Cas. Damnit before I would say goodbye to any jackass who would be like this to me but Cas has somehow avoided my complete wrath and that only means one thing. But I didn't get much time to dwell on it until he showed up again. “Cas I told you-” Then he completely shocks me and shoves me up against the wall covering my mouth.

He takes out a knife and wow that is the last time I tell someone how their friendship means to me. Then he cuts himself. Zachariah flashes in “Castiel! Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're doing?” Cas makes a sigil and Zach flashes out. “Cas what is going On!?” “He won't be gone long. We have to find Sam now.” “Where is he?” “I don't know. But I know who does. We have to stop him, Y/n, from killing Lilith.” ‘But Lilith's gonna break the final seal.” “Lilith is the final seal. She dies, the end begins.” 

We grabbed Dean and we popped into Chuck’s house. Unfortunately, we popped in when he was ordering some type of service that included women's company. He sees us and is flabbergasted and disappointed. “Wait. T-t-this isn't supposed to happen.” The poor woman on the other end spoke. “No, lady, this is definitely supposed to happen, but I just got to call you back.” “St. Mary's? What is that, a convent?” Dean asked. “Yeah, but you guys aren't supposed to be there. You're not in this story. Especially you Y/n.” “As I keep being told.” I sarcastically say with an annoyed smile on my face.

“Yeah, well… We're making it up as we go.” Cas said looking at me and I gave him a small smile in return. At that moment the walls started to shake and bright light was invading the windows. “Aw, man! Not again! No!” Chuck yelled out. Cas turned to me. “I'll hold him off! I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!” “WHAT NO I'M NOT LEAVING YOU CAS!” I screamed at him. “You were right from before, you are my best friend and because of you I can freely feel. Thank you, Y/n Winchester” He grabs my shoulder and Dean’s. “Cas No NO-” We drop into the convent.

“Don’t worry Y/n I'm sure he's okay he's an angel he's Cas.” Cas you stupid son of a bitch for making me… “Ok let's go get our dumbass brother.” We run down the hall and what we see is not good. Ruby Sees us and slams the door with her mind. I knew that bitch wasn't really turned good. We ran over. “SAM! SAM!” We pounded on the door. “Dean wait wait ok 1…2…3!” We kicked the door open. “You're too late.” She said so smugly. “I dont care.” Sam held her. I grabbed the demon's knife and stabbed her.

“I.told.you” She dropped to the floor dead. In the middle of the ground next to dead Lillith a bright white light shot up and everything started to shake. Sam looks at both of us with a shamed look. “Guys I’m sorry.” Dean grabs our shoulders. “Guy’s let's go!” We run to the door and it closes in front of us. “Guys... he's coming.” This was it. The end times the devil and of course, we were right smack in the middle of but we are Winchesters we could do anything.

Well guys that was it I just got to spill my soul real quick lol. I just want to thank everyone that has read this story that has liked it and read it and looked at it. I am planning to do all seasons which might take awhile but it is my goal to make a great story to the best of my abilities. So excited for the next book. I love season 5 so much I don't know when the next chapter will be I want to focus on my other stories for a little while. But overall thank you for reading the first book of love, war and grace. See you y'all next time hopefully on my other stories but for now xoxo Gossip Girl ;) ;)

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Hostile Territory - Chapter 14

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter

Catch up: Series Masterlist

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Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry I'm so late with answering comments but I will as soon as I have a little more time 🖤

Day 176

Leah was down for chow before anyone else, having not slept much that night. Sheʼd heard Sy give the boys the typical “lights out at sundown or risk getting sniped” speech followed by a new addition of “Corporal Colemanʼs room is off limits to everyone”.

She’d brought her sketchbook down with her, desperately needing something to focus all her nervous energy into. It seemed to have worked because she didn't notice Niki walk in until he sat on the bench beside her.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Niki bumped his knee against hers under the table, not wanting to risk any sort of half hug with the soldiers slowly filtering into the hall.

“No harm done, I promise.”

His reassuring smile helped convince her that there was indeed no harm done—well, not for him at least. The harm to her… relationship was still to be seen.

Leah flipped to the back of her book, tearing a blank page out and handing it and a pencil to Niki. As she turned back to the drawing sheʼd been working on, Niki caught a glimpse of the picture of Leah and Caleb that she had taped inside the front cover. 

“You heard from Caleb lately?”

“Not since he started his residency.”

They both turned their focus to their pages. The act of working side by side with only casual chatter was comfortably familiar. They’d done it many times when she was a teenager.

“I can’t believe I call him more than you do.”

“I don’t want him to worry,” Leah said by means of explanation.

“You mean, you don’t want to be reminded of how much you miss him.”

It seemed that in the years since she’d last seen Niki, Leah had forgotten that he could sniff out her lies like a damn bloodhound. And that he wasn’t afraid to call her on her bullshit.

“How’s your mom?”

Niki sighed but accepted the change of subject. Chow hall was not the best place for long, emotional conversations.

“Same as always, asking me how I’m going to give her grandbabies if I’m halfway around the world,” he paused, looking up at Leah’s profile. “She misses you.”

Leah smiled to herself. Her head tipped to the side as she shaded the moth she’d been working on for the past week, trying to make it perfect. It was the same basic design as the one she’d drawn on Sy but with a level of detail she couldn’t accomplish with just sharpies.

“I miss her too. You think she’d mind if I stopped by if I ever get back?”

Niki didn’t like that she was saying if she ever got back. He hoped it was just because it had been so long since she’d been stateside

“Are you kidding? She’d love it. She’ll take one look at you and drop everything to cook you a decent meal. What the hell are they doing to you out here, anyway, you’re all skinny.” He poked Leah’s ribs as if to emphasize his point.

“That’s because Coleman refuses to go easy on the training even when she almost dies.”

Jer fell onto the bench across from Leah, making the whole table shake. Leah snapped her sketchbook shut before he could recognize the design as being the same one she’d drawn on the captain.

“I’m sorry,” a frown fell over Niki’s face, “how frequently do you almost die for this to be a habit?”

The other boys gathered around Leah, Ethan and Benjie taking a seat on either side of Jer and Rohan sitting on Leah’s right.

“We have to save her ass at least once a week,” Ethan answered.

“It’s exhausting,” Rohan added.

“You guys suck, you know that?”

Niki laughed, setting his pencil down on the half finished image of some robot or another. A few men from his platoon joined him while others found seats wherever there was room.

“A little sensitive, are we?” a cute blond private said. “Whatʼs wrong, are your menses making you irritable?”

Leah was about to give him a very unladylike response but Niki spoke in her place.

“Nah, this is just her default level of bitchy. You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh yeah? And how would you know that?”

“Because I’ve known Leah a long fucking time and the day she got her IUD and stopped getting periods it was like a weight was lifted off of all of our shoulders. She’s mean when she’s PMS-ing.”

“As opposed to how mean she is at any other time of the month?” Benjie quipped.

“Okay, first, fuck all of you. Second, you really wanna play that game, Niki, then we can talk about summer break oh-five.”

He immediately shut his mouth, his next words dying on his lips. 

“That’s what I thought,” Leah smirked.

Niki’s boys started asking about the logistics of the upcoming op while Reynolds dropped by long enough to inform her that Sy had ordered that she get a follow-up check before being cleared for field duty. Her gaze instinctively found the man in question.

It seemed that even with new men at the base he hadn’t changed his habits, sporting shorts and a faded red t-shirt. Aika walked into the room ahead of him, taking a lap with her nose pressed to the ground. It was unfortunate that she was born a stray rather than at some breeder out in the States. She would have made one hell of a bomb dog.

Sy’s intense blue eyes flickered between Leah and Niki, studying them. Leah wished that for once she would be able to read his expression.

“So how do you know Leah?” Benjie asked after they’d all gotten their food and settled back around the table.

“I met her brother Caleb in my second year of junior high. Unfortunately for me, him and this pain in the ass were a package deal.”

“Caleb, that’s the doctor right?” Ethan directed his question to Leah.

“Yeah, I’ve only got the one brother.”

“Huh… The way you act sometimes makes it seem like you were raised in a house full of boys.”

Niki didn’t miss the way Leah looked down at her lap, chewing her bite more than strictly necessary as a way of buying herself time.

The pair shared a subtle look, Niki giving a slight shake of his head. Leah knew exactly what he was trying to ask. Don’t they know? Leah answered with a barely there shake of her own. No, they don’t.

“Her house was where we all used to hang out. Gage was a second father to all Caleb’s friends.”

Luckily, the guys didn’t notice the unspoken exchange, too focused on their breakfast.

“I better get to medical. Wish me luck.”

“Na, you don’t need luck. I’ve seen Reynolds check out your ass. If he doesn’t clear you, a quick blowie will change his mind.”

Leah kicked Jer under the table, standing to clean up her tray and her sketchbook.

“I’ll meet you in the tent when I’m done.”

The exercise tent was buzzing with activity. Normally there was more than enough room for everyone to do their own thing but now, Sy actually found himself having to wait his turn or use lighter weights just to get things over with.

As he spotted Pepps on the bench press, his eyes roamed over the new arrivals. They were a decent looking bunch. Young and fit but not so much so that their inexperience was a major concern. Energetic but not undisciplined. Confident but not cocky.

Their lieutenant stood by the chin-up bar, his arms crossed over his chest as he chatted with Benjie while Ethan and Jeremiah competed to see who could hold the longest with their chin above the bar.

Pepps finished his set, setting the bar back in place without any help from Sy. He didn’t really need a spot but it gave Sy an excuse to stand and stare.

They traded places, Sy stretching out onto his back and taking hold of the bar. Sy stared at a small tear in the roof of the tent as he absent-mindedly brought the weight down to his chest before pushing it back up again.

There were about a million things to do before the op. They needed a full inventory of supplies and ammunition, the humvees needed maintenance, plans needed to be finalized and a briefing needed to be held to make sure everyone knew their role.

Having not kept count at all, Sy used the burn of his muscles to determine when to stop. With the bar safely back on the rack, he quickly stood, liberating the bench for the next person in line.

He was almost ready to call it a day but he still needed to do a few sets of squats. As he approached the stack of plates in the corner, Niki pulled his shirt up, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Woah, that’s some serious ink you’ve got there,” Connors said.

The Lieutenant looked up with a raised brow, almost seeming to ask if the comment was indeed directed towards him. 

“You mean my back?” 

When Connors nodded in confirmation, Niki removed his shirt, turning away so the other man could get a closer look.

Though Sy had never really been a fan of tattoos, he still found himself studying the man’s back like the others around them.

“I've seen that before,” he said without thinking and to no one in particular.

When Connors got called away and the others lost interest, Niki shrugged his shirt back on, turning to face Sy.

“That’s not surprising, Cerberus is a pretty well known mythological creature.”

“No, I mean I’ve seen that exact design before.”

It took a moment but it eventually clicked. Leah’s sketchbook. He’d seen that design in her sketchbook in her second month on base.

“It’s hers, isnʼt it?”

No one else was within ears reach but he still refrained from saying Leahʼs name. The younger man looked almost surprised but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, I went to her guy. He reworked her drawing to make sure it would look good and age well but thatʼs about it. I’d have asked her to do it herself but she ended up enlisting and giving up her apprenticeship.”

Though Leah had said her decision to enlist was for the best, it felt like lately she spent every spare second bent over her sketchbook. It made him wonder whether she was truly happy or whether she was having second thoughts.

Sy picked up his weights moving to the side where he wouldn’t be in the way. For some reason he thought it would sound more like a casual conversation than a fishing expedition if he was doing something else at the same time.

“How many people has she made tattoos for?”

Niki chose a pair of dumbbells and took up position next to Sy, both men facing the room rather than each other.

“Just me and herself, I think. She doesnʼt really take requests or anything itʼs more like… Like her drawings are her diary. If something or someone is on her mind, she draws. The more worried she is the more she draws. Or she works out. She made mine right before I left for OCS.”

“Guess that explains why sheʼs so damn secretive with that book of hers. She fucking drags it everywhere since she got shot last month but she threatened to stab Jer with a fork if he tried to open it.”

He really wanted to know what was eating at her. Well, he already knew, but he wanted to know how she felt about what had happened that night. 

Niki dropped his weight, turning to face Sy.

“Wait, you mean she actually did almost die? I thought the guys were just fucking with her.”

Sy paused for a moment, reliving the night all over again.

“It definitely qualified as near-death but luckily she came out of it with only a concussion and some fucked up ribs.”

“Shit.”

As if summoned, Leah walked into the tent, pausing at the entrance as she looked for her team. They found her first, huddling around her and impatiently awaiting to hear the verdict of her check-up. By the sounds of it, sheʼd been cleared, earning her a round of high-fives from the men.

Niki sat down, brushing a hand through his hair. It was freshly trimmed but it looked like he kept it about at the maximum length they were allowed. Not that anyone at Warhorse would give him shit if he stayed long enough for it to grow out.

After finishing his second set, Sy joined the man on the ground.

“The moth makes more sense now.”

Sy was so focused on Leah that he almost didnʼt hear the off handed comment.

“What?”

Niki looked up from where he was busy fixing the laces on his boots.

“Nothing, itʼs just a hunch. She was drawing a moth earlier. Typically they sort of mean rebirth, new beginnings, stuff like that. Or maybe she just thought it looked cool and I’m looking for meaning where there is none.”

“Right.” Or it could mean the guy she drew a moth on had basically tried to jump her bones while she was half out of it with a concussion. “What does a three-headed dog mean?”

“Protection. Or, in Leah speak, ‘you better not fucking die on usʼ. She texted me the picture on the day I left. It wasn’t meant to be a tattoo but I liked the idea of having something watching my back out here, you know?”

Us. That fit with his claim from the night before that he knew Leah through her brother. And if Leah was an ex then he probably wouldn’t have wanted a permanent reminder of her etched into his skin, but that didn’t mean neither of them had ever wanted more. He was a few years older than Leah. Maybe he’d gone off to OCS before they ever got a chance to try and be together.

“Yo LT, you got a minute?”

Niki sighed, putting his weights away. “Duty calls. Iʼll let the boys know weʼre briefing at fifteen hundred.”

Chapter 15

[gingkos-eldritch-secret]

Fanfiction Commentary and Recommendations: Lex Luthor´s Ascend from Supervillainy to Fatherhood Part VI (chapters 26 to 30)

The Original story by @halfagone can be found here.

The previous parts of the commentaries can be found here:

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VII

So, just to begin with: we still continue where the last part cut off. This will include discussions of injury, blood, torture and death. Also, discussions about the morality of killing someone, even in self-defence.

Many good and interesting and also important discussions happen in these following chapters. Which is very, very nice, but also makes for a bit of an emotionally exhausting bit to read. It´s absolutely wonderful, but at the end I lay in my bed and was like 'how. How do I even feel now? What should I feel now? What?' So yeah, be prepared for that.

Now included: Memes and (hopefully) gifs. You´ll see if it worked. As of now I have no clue. And with that: have fun with the commentary :D

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So: Dick is still floored by Lex just leaving after admitting that he forgives them for their behaviour. And has the same opinion as me: That he´s a freaking miracle worker. Good for him! He really DOES deserve Alfred´s cookies for this.

And now we get back to the interrogation. I mean. It should be just Gordon doing this, but Batman has been allowed to stay. And knowing how the bat behaves in such scenarios I´m not really sure that that´s a good idea.

A fun fact: the bats are ALL listening in to the conversation. And as I already know how this will go I´ll just say: they´ll be facepalming. A lot. Or will be commiserating with Danny in a way. Because god damn, he kinda verbally eviscerates Bruce. And Bruce freaking deserves it.

I mean, true, Bruce has made it clear that he´s not offering any input. But it´s Bruce. Even if he wanted to, can this man even hold back his opinions and questions?

Jason and Dick hide it out on the roof - more or less in a mix of civilian and vigilante outfits, having their own conversation while listening in.

And listening in they do. I´m not sure that 'What´s one more bad memory in a hospital?' is a wonderful conversation starter, but god damn. It sure sets the mood. You can decide what that mood is, but I´d say a mix between resigned, shifty (if that even is a mood and not a state of being) and exasperated. So Fun mix.

At least Jim doesn´t seem all too happy about the conversation either? Small mercies, I guess.

At least there´s a lawyer present.

(If I´m very wordy in this: blame the mix of melatonin and caffeine that is unique to night shifts. I am VERY giddy right now and that translates weirdly into commentary. It´s weird to write while kind of dancing to a space documentary YouTube video lmao.)

The first question is just. Basic. 'What happened? Begin from the kidnapping'. That was the moment I decided that I needed popcorn. Because with how done Danny seemed from the whole situation to begin with that could only go so well.

So, it begins with Danny beginning at the. Well. Beginning. With him running off and befriending the crazy local lesbians (I love them your honour) and how he spent his time there, how he doubled back after the explosion and the whole Van business happening after that. All the while Jason is still reeling about his relationship with two ex-Villains. But really, should he be so surprised about that? It´s Danny 'i'mma rehabilitate villains' Luthor we´re talking about.

Then he tries to explain why he thinks the Joker targeted him - he brings it back to his connections with said man´s ex and her new girlfriend. Which is understandable. I doubt he knows that he was mistaken as a Robin when he was taken.

And then we get into the nitty gritty. The things that happened after the camera was shot and the stream was ended.

And just oof. There had just been a whole freaking table full of torture instruments. FULL OF THEM. None of them like that revelation.

And of course, Batman interrupts and asks if the camera was shot on purpose. What the fuck man. WHAT THE FUCK. YOU ASK A TRAUMATIZED CHILD IF HE SHOT A CAMERA ON PURPOSE AFTER BEING BOUND AND TORTURED ON A LIFESTREAM? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU????

Danny stays calm. Only just. He explains how he´d meant to get the man in the shoulder or the back to run as far away as possible. How he still managed to get away and knocked out any goons he met on his way. How he found bomb equipment and used it against the bad excuse of a clown when he got too close to a hiding spot. How he´d tried to shoot him in the back and just met his chest instead. How the Joker just LAUGHED and tried to kill him then and there because 'two killers killing each other'. Really. Fuck him.

Jim, bless his soul, just gently prods at what happened next. Which Danny lies about. Says he just tried to drag himself away, but was slow because of the blood loss and the wounds. That Red Hood came soon after that. It´s a good lie. And it´s nearly the truth. But we all know what went on was just a tad more eldritch. Not that he can tell them that. Who´d ever believe it after all? Or react well to that? No one. that´s who.

Now Gordon tells Danny that the goons were all found dead. All of them. Danny … does not take this well. At all. Even the lawyer asks if they should stop for now, but … well. Then they´d have to do it a second time and I highly doubt that would go any better.

And now the million-dollar question. Where did our boy learn how to wield a gun? This is where the bad parenting choices of the Fentons come in. And how they led to Danny and Jazz chasing each other around the house with loaded guns. In a playful way…. Now where is that Danny protection squad. I need a membership.

And of course, Batman asks why they taught their children how to use lethal guns. He´s still not holding himself to the earlier 'promise' of: he´ll stay out of the conversation. I´m still mad at him for that. And I will continue to be mad at him for that.

Go Jason. Own that cringe at the behaviour of your father figure. Though we´ll all agree that the Fenton parents are, in fact, fools.

So, while Danny tells them that he learnt because he had to, that he never liked guns. Which Batman then uses against him with his next question. And Gordon is not happy about THAT either, trying to interrupt. But of course, the great batman just ignores the head of the police force and asks why Danny chose the gun instead of any of the other weapons.

Danny´s just like 'What? Should I have taken a melee weapon? With the joker? How´d I have gotten away that way? It would have been so much harder?'

And Bruce, not understanding or not liking the reasoning is just like 'You could´ve just ran away'

Like. Danny´s right. He´d been trying to do that from the start? Why´d Batman suddenly fault him for this? For self-defence? I repeat myself: WHAT THE FUCK BATMAN?

Now the man is trying to talk Danny into a corner so that he may 'confess' or whatever the hell is going on in his head. Because why ever else would he hide somewhere? If not to just ambush the Joker?

Which is, I think, when Danny gets really fed up and was also the time I was sitting there like

Batman be like 'I just need to know why' and Danny? Has had ENOUGH. Jason may find his eyes creepy at this point. And I do imagine him letting a tiny little bit of his ghostliness slip through. Because all of those accusations? I´d have had enough of that much earlier than Danny.

And that´s when Danny eviscerates Batman. How do you ask? Well. Because he researched. Everything from crime rates to rogue statistics and even looked into the rogues themselves. And the Joker would´ve had the death penalty several times if it was not for his 'plead to insanity'. He´d left behind half a baseball stadium full of bodies. And nothing was ever done? He told about the second Robin´s death and how he enjoyed it. And batman says things about death and playing god by choosing who dies.

And he asks the real questions:

“You talk about how people play god by choosing who dies, but aren’t you playing god by choosing who lives?” Danny sneered; teeth bared. “Who do you go for? The civilian in need or the criminal who caused their suffering? Who’s the priority to you? Who do you chase after first?”

God damn - going right for the metaphorical throat.

He continues. Calling out that bullshit mentality of 'choice', when the Joker still would´ve just gone back to Arkham after killing him when he´d not even wanted to be there in the first place.

Talks about how there´s people who can be reformed. Who can live normal lives again. But that there must be a life for them to get back to and that the Joker had nothing else. He simply had nothing to live for except for his 'jokes'. And even if they´re reformed. They´d have to live with all the people who have heard of their exploits looking at them with scorn.

There´s just so many good points to this conversation, I love it :3

I kind of think that Jason really needed to hear all of this as well if we go by his reaction. Poor man´s been going through the wringer that day.

When Cass and Tim find the corpse, she´s not sure what to think. Should she be upset that Danny has killed? Should she even be upset that it was the Joker in the first place? Sould she be relieved? I think it all depends on the why´s.

In the end. Nearly all of them had killed before. So, what makes Danny all that different?

Meanwhile Bruce is just having big thoughts and would like to be alone for now please. I think what he actually needs is a hot bath with some scented candles. Self-care, my man. It would do you a world of good. Also: introspection. Always good.

But in the meantime, Bruce and Jason talk things out and it´s beautiful. Some parts of it are quite funny - always trying to ease the mood this one. But in the end Bruce is right. He´s not Jason´s therapist, but he´s his father. He just wants him to be well.

And if things have to be talked about for the going well part? It must be done. Even if it very clearly is hard for either of them. But that´s what family is for, is it not? To be there for each other even when things get uncomfortable …

I cried at some parts of the conversation, but Bruce nearly puts his foot in his mouth so many times … like Jason tries to understand, but Bruce doesn´t make it any easier.

They talk about why Bruce feels so tense at Danny being the one to kill the Joker. Why he´s so insistent on Danny. How it shouldn´t have been Danny. But if not Danny, who then?

Jason? Dick? Bruce? Any way has it´s pros and cons. Who´d have been able to live with it? Who´d have come out of it unchanged? Would the Joker even have been able to reform? No. Not in this life. Never in this life.

Jason´s question threw me out the loop a bit because 'Since when do you talk about these things?' is a very justified question xD

Then the talk shifts. Towards Dick, towards the 'golden boy' and how it was originally Jason who gave his older brother that title. Not Bruce or anyone else. And how Jason has always been the favourite.

Jason predictably doesn´t believe that. Which is of course his right, but it made me just so freaking happy? How he disbelievingly tried to make any of his other siblings into the favourite while Bruce just explains that no. The child who´d so earnestly tried to do well in school, who did his homework without asking, who was excited to stay with him, who didn´t leave freaking scars (and god damn Dick you feral child) and who didn´t fake an uncle so that he´d not be adopted.

And Bruce? Just says that he´d never be mad at Jason because he tried to steal the cars of the Batmobile because it gave him Jason in the end. And that really let me tear up a bit there. Cause that´s just so wholesome? My poor little heart.

Then the impossible actually happens: Bruce apologizes. He actually apologizes. That he´s sorry to make think he was never loved, but that he´s his son and it never should have been thought to have been otherwise. That it never changed to begin with. That he loves him now and god damn I´m a puddle on the floor now. I died of family feels my friends. Bury me shallow though. I have the feeling I´ll be back.

After Danny is released from the hospital, him and Lex go to a Diner for some food and conversation. And let´s just say Lex would like to have a TALK with Bruce Wayne still.

He´s also very happy about Danny´s healing factor as that means his boy will be pain free much sooner than he´d be if he´d been human… well if he´d been completely and utterly human he´d probably be dead because he would´ve taken a much longer time escaping his bonds … anyways

Though this also lets Lex think about how Danny had explained his healing factor. How it´s emotion-bound. And how sometimes when the emotions are right and good, he´ll heal, but when he feels bad or if the wound had emotional damage attached it would heal slower or even leave scars. Though the latter would only happen if the psychological damage went over a certain threshold.

And because he´s a dad he won´t beat long around the bush and tells him about his talk with Dick, about how he knows he collapsed after seeing Jason and if he knew why that was and then they talk about cores. And how the 'parasite' may not have had one, but it had certainly reacted to the proximity to one.

Soon after Lex goes outside to talk with Bruce. Bruce apologizes directly to lex - noice. He really needed to do that in person, otherwise it´d have been quite insincere.

Lex compliments Bruce in how his children care for him. How they certainly do care for him, because otherwise? They wouldn´t even bother.

Lex still warns Bruce that he´ll it slide this once and that if it ever happens again? There´ll certainly be hell to raise. Which is quite understandable. If my child had faced what Danny has faced I would not in any way be calm either. In fact, I´d be furious. So, the little warning is certainly appreciated.

While Bruce is surprised by how well Danny already looks since he´s only been out of the hospital for a few hours, he wants to apologize to Danny. And the little shit? Just says 'I´m waiting'.

Honestly, this man xD

Bruce actually, really, honestly apologizes with a whole explanation of why they did that how he´s also sorry that they did not take his trauma response seriously. He´s also understandably confused when Danny asks if he´d taken a blood sample.

And when Danny emphatically asks if he´d tried? Well. Let´s just say that a little of the eldritch energy slipped through and Bruce got a whole lot more attentive. Danny can be creepy. As a treat.

And when Bruce says 'yes`? And sees the reactions has to that? He realizes that Danny´s afraid. Honest to god afraid even though this could not be as bad as his confrontation with the ex-clown. He also doesn´t know how to feel when Danny warns him about trying it again.

Though here I´ll have to throw something in. Bruce may not have gotten a sample. But do you remember that Danny´s been tortured? With knives? And that there´d understandably been blood from his wounds all around the warehouse? And that the hospital probably also had some of his blood from the bullet removal as well as the cleaning of the other wounds? Let´s just say it will come into play later. I completely forgot about the left in my first read but god damn. This just makes the situation so much worse. But first it´ll get better. I swear this is like a roller coaster ride of emotions.

Where were we? Ah yes. Danny asks about the parasite. And if they´d taken it into the Batcave. Bruce is. Not amused. The first question out of his mouth was 'how' and the second was 'did you tell lex Luthor'

Dannys reaction´s just a wrinkled nose like 'ew, why would I do that?'. Which is honestly kind of adorable. And Danny does this whole spiel about secret identities and how they´re not his to tell and that he´s not exactly following lex´ agenda at all.

And after that rant Bruce just focuses on the word 'parasite' like a confused puppy. Danny´s just like 'yes. It´s a parasite. No, I don´t know how he got it' *thinks about ectoplasm* … 'was it a green liquid’ the instant reaction of 'LAZARUS PIT KNOWLEDGE' is funny as frick if you ask just always me. He just always assumes things first before he asks. Let me remind you peeps: To assume makes an ass out of u and me.

And then Danny explains how his parents used to work with 'something like that' and that it´s the reason his blood probably wouldn’t even ping as human because of all the contamination.

As Bruce asks if that´s the reason he´s so shifty about his blood samples Danny´s just like 'Nah. I just don´t trust you with this sort of information. Someone would get it and then they´d just use it maliciously. I KNOW that. Already lived through that'

Then this heartbreaking part follows:

There was only this soft, sad expression on Danny’s face as the boy said, “Oh, Bruce… There is no fixing me.” And then, Danny looked away, gaze falling to the half-eaten plate now. “Not anymore, anyways. Had someone tried a decade earlier, maybe it would have worked out but… No one bothered to try when I was still worth saving.”

I just want to put him in a blanket burrito and hug him until he´s happy and safe and no one will harm him anymore …

Bruce wants to talk about that topic further, but Danny just deflects back to the parasite. He talks about ectoplasm! Achievement unlocked! Knowledge about ectoplasm gained! Congratulations!

Bruce is fascinated. Danny is horrified that Jason was basically put into extremely unhealthy sludge that´s just a very bad representation for Ectoplasm. He´s not surprised about the side effects it had though. Which. If you think about it. I wouldn´t be either. I mean that stuff runs on emotions. And you can´t tell me that the League of Assassins has many positive emotions. Especially around the pits.

And then everyone´s just horrified that the parasite is sentient. Not as horrified that it´s not sapient. Can you imagine a green sludge parasite being sapient? God that sounds like some horror movie stuff.

Now the million-dollar question: Why isn´t Danny as affected by the whole thing? Easy answer? Because he´s been surrounded by that stuff since before he´s been born. It´s integrated in his DNA. Of course, it won´t affect him the same. And of course, there´s no fixing him. But his parents never did realize, did they? They never did understand what they´d been doing to their own flesh and blood. But their work was more important in the end, I guess.

And then we´re back with a mixed bag and some sadder emotions as the talk swaps to Danny´s parents and then to Lex and the situation at the hospital and Damian´s reaction and Danny´s 'mask' being just as much of a mask as Brucie is and. So much information in such a short time. Ouch :')

Good emotions. But too many D:

And now Cass has switched in! She´s taken Bruce’s seat and they ... Talk. Cass is not really all that jazzed about Danny knowing their vigilante secret. She´s also not happy about how the whole situation came about. Not sure what to think about Danny having killed someone.

And … Yeah. She has killed before. Has seen how the life of a man left him and decided: never again. She was raised as a weapon. Only a weapon - that leaves it´s traces.

And then she came to Gotham. She came to Bruce and became a vigilante and there´s the no kill rule (not that it always stops them from killing someone). And Danny just killed someone.

But it was the Joker. He´d done horrendous things to both Danny and her family. And in the end, if it´d been a member of her family who´d done the deed she would still feel not quite right about it. But the kill was not done out of some twisted sense of revenge or someone thing else. It was self-defence in the end. It was accident. So …

And in the end: she can´t be upset about all of that. She wouldn´t have wanted to lose Danny either. Even if she´d always had the feeling of not understanding him.

But that´s the thing about relationships isn´t it? They´re hard. They´re a work in progress. You can never know another person as intimately as you know yourself. We go into a relationship, any kind of relationship, with the intent to learn more about another person. Maybe also to learn more about ourselves. But at the core relationship works out if both people want to see the other for who they are and how they can make it work as a team. The same is true for friendships and family relationships. And there´s always more to learn.

Also. They´re just cute. Cass then asks what his parents did to Danny and his eyes just flash green.

There is no further information before the scene changes to the fathers trying to be subtle about spying on their kids through the window lmao

He recounts a number of their neglectful behaviours, their questionable morale standards, their involuntary hurting their children and just. Not once did they ever question themselves. Not once did they try to change or apologize. And then in the end? They used their blasters on him and he just ran. Danny´s so tired of running. So, so tired of it. He just wants somewhere to belong. A home without the danger of his own parental figures turning on him every second he´s there.

Cass is just so sweet as she gently reminds him that he´s not less important just because he hurt someone. Because in the end no one´s life is worth more, than one’s own. That she´s just glad she´s safe and god, I’m getting diabetes.

AND THEN THEY KISS. It´s all very romantic and cute and the fathers want to protest, but Tim is just sitting next to them with a camera making photos of the whole scenario because he wants to show them on their future wedding party. I understand you, my man, I understand you. That´s just the sibling in you. As well as the photographer. Those two go remarkably well together!

Tim be like:

While going home Lex and Danny make a pit stop at Harley´s and Ivy´s house where Harley and Lex badger Danny into going to therapy for the low price of Lex repairing their home and them basically becoming Danny´s Wine and Vodka aunts. Ahhh yes. Found family at its finest.

Danny also gets permission for a pet from Lex. LONG LIVE THE KITTEN EYES.

Of course, the public has already been informed about the death of the joker and how Danny had been involved. Gotham is throwing a party for him and they´re showered in confetti on their way to the airport. It´s all very heroic and nice. Until the antis come out. But they´ll always come out the little buggers.

And then. AND THEN. My favourite parts about this fic: one of the social media chapters. God damn.

It starts with their excitement about Danny coming to Gotham, worrying about the Joke r and then Danny in his custody, Danny’s health status as well as his being saved by red hood, people worrying about the joker, people being confused at Danny talking with Bruce in a diner, people insta-shipping Cass and Danny and being just so damned happy for them? It´s adorable. The social Media peeps are just CUTE.

And when they find out that Danny killed the joker all hell breaks loose. The stans, the antis - there´s fights breaking out over it, there parties, there´s just so much joy about that little fact.

And then people freak out about a pic Harley shared with the sirens and Danny and Bud and Lou during the Uno game. The Fanart is adorable and people are just joyous about Harley being like 'I´ve only known Danny for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself'. Which. Yes. Dany protection squad RISE UP.

People are not comforted hearing the 'nah don’ worry I’ve had worse' comment upon being asked about his wellbeing.

The exact way Danny revealed that Danny and Cass are now dating just absolutely adorable. It´s so fucking sweet. The whole family is exasperated and the PR team probably wants to cry but god damn, it´s cuuteee

[cobawrites]

A Gust of Wind (Vash x Reader), Chapter 8

Vash x Reader, GN! Reader, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn Romance, TW: Mental Health Problems. Reader awakens to an unfamiliar world, left alone and struggling with mental health problems from before the crash. Vash emerges as a guiding light for Reader, and vice versa.

First >> Prev. >> Chapter 8 >> Next

A/N: Giggled and kicked my feet SO MUCH as I wrote this chapter! Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

(God, this was so self-indulgent… My touch-starved is showing </3)

                                             A Gust of Wind

                                                Chapter 8 

Vash gave a whole new meaning to taking someone’s breath away. You struggled for air with muffled wheezing as he smothered your face into the crook of his neck, pressing his hand to the back of your head, crushing your chest against his, squeezing until he could no longer feel your warm, strangled puffs of breath against his skin. He repeated his words like a mantra. You came back… You came back…

Yes, you came back, but this was not the welcome you expected, nor deserved. His touch, like fire, burned hotter than Marlene’s. As he continued to melt your body into his, something hard and metal on his chest dug into your skin painfully, sure to leave a couple of dark bruises come tomorrow. This small atonement for your sins was all that kept your tears from streaming down your cheeks.

You were dizzy, sore, and blue in the face by the time Vash loosened his grip, giving you just enough room to expand your chest once again. His face was inches from yours as you took deep breaths, and his own ragged panting invaded your lungs. His eyes, beautifully dazed, fixed upon yours.

You would have given anything to gaze into those eyes of his again, the ones that saw through you in the way that, up until now, only your mother had. The ones that carried the same distinct taint of some deeply rooted sadness, of something that could leave anyone feeling othered, and utterly alone. And here they were, those familiar eyes, like home, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“I’m sorry…” you said in a small voice, your face turned away from his. It was all you could manage. You hadn’t had time to think about what you would say once you found him. Your thoughts up to now were thoroughly preoccupied with deceiving the townsfolk and planning his escape. And besides, you’d be a liar if you denied the fact that you were simply terrified of how this conversation might go. You didn’t want to think about all the awful things you were so sure he’d say to you, and rightfully so. Despite his overwhelming, bone-crushing affection upon seeing you again, you still waited with bated breath for his response.

“Sorry?” Vash’s grip loosened a little more, his hands sliding to your shoulders. “Sorry about what?”

You couldn’t help yourself any longer. A shaky sob escaped your lips. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds you could no longer hold back. A hasty barricade upon a breaking dam.

Suddenly, it was Vash who was comforting you. After everything that happened, beaten, bleeding, and bruised, he was the one comforting you.

And here you were, trying your damned hardest to keep your cries from alerting the gunmen passing by outside. All for what? Because you hurt your own feelings? Because you’d done a horrible thing you should never have done? Because you were the one responsible for every one of the mars on his beautiful face? You deserved every ounce of guilt weighing down upon you. And you certainly didn’t deserve the way his kind hands cradled your body once again.

Your chest heaved painfully as you desperately choked down your cries. You couldn’t help but run your trembling fingertips obsessively along every bloodstained bandage, as if you could somehow brush the lacerations softly away.

His right hand traveled up to your face, cupping your cheek carefully, like newspaper wrapping brittle glass. Vash pressed his forehead to yours, and coaxed your chin gently so that you’d look back at him the way he wanted you to. Finally locked in the gaze you both craved, each of you wondered if the other saw in themselves what you saw in each other.

Without a doubt, this man could read right through you. His soft, yet piercing eyes left not much to the imagination. You were an open book for him to flip through and enjoy. Something about this should have felt so violating, yet there was some relief in the way he turned each one of your pages with such delicate hands, careful not to make a single tear, leaving only the slightest fingerprints of his forefinger and his thumb. It was enough to make you wish he’d turn the pages a little faster.

But who was to say that the words on the pages read the same for him as they did for you? The way he looked at you was angelic and full of love, as if he weren’t staring straight into the eyes of a sinner. What did those pages read? What could they possibly be saying?

And Vash. He paraded with the guise of a paperback, but underneath the decorative sleeve was a hardcover. You longed to touch it, if only to feel the tiny grooves of the leather, before trading away whatever secret scraps of paper you had left for the chance to read the entirety of his first page. There had to be more to this man than what you could see, even now. You wanted to see, and you knew that he wanted you to, as well.

Still, there were parts of him that maybe even he couldn’t read. Chapters he probably skipped every time he opened his book. Chapters he simply refused to recognize. But you did. You at least knew they were there. Perhaps Vash didn’t quite understand the value of the ink on his pretty pages. He would rather feed them to the fire to keep his neighbors warm on a cold desert night than to ever acknowledge that he may be worthy of something softer.

Your fingers ghosted over a particularly bloody bandage, messily tied right over his clothes. Carefully, you unwrapped it. The gash was long, and rather deep, cutting across the side of his torso. It would leave a scar, for sure.

“Take off your shirt,” you whispered, your hands already sliding underneath the hem.

Vash hesitated as you gently started lifting the shirt for him. “I’d… really rather not,” he responded.

Your fingers pressed against his belly as he placed his hand over yours, preventing you from going any further. His skin was surprisingly rough, and… Was that a piece of metal?

You started to back off, but one more look at the wound you had just unbandaged strengthened your resolve. “Let me help you,” you insisted, tensely gripping the edge of the fabric.

Vash swallowed hard, agonizingly contemplating what to say. It made no sense to refuse your help in his current state, but still. His mind raced through all your possible reactions if he were to go through with this. He wasn’t sure if he could bear much more at the moment.

“Please…” you begged, intertwining your fingers with his and gently guiding his hand aside.

He could no longer refuse you. The way you were looking at him made him wish he could repeat this scenario anywhere else, in a safer place, just the two of you. Taking a deep breath, he slowly removed his shirt.

You couldn’t help but gasp a little. Immediately, there was a look of regret on his face, and he almost began to reach for his shirt once again. However, your hands now rested softly along his ribs, catching him by surprise.

You brushed your fingertips, featherlight, over his torso, almost as if in a trance. His skin was covered all over with large scars, burn marks, and even metal bits that appeared to function as prosthetic pieces. What happened to this poor man?

Images from earlier that day crept up in your mind. Was this the price he paid for the sake of people like you? You bit your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, all in a desperate attempt to keep your composure. This was a vulnerable moment for him, and you would do your best to make him understand just how special he was.

“Oh, Vash…” you breathed, resting your forehead on his shoulder while your hands lightly stroked each and every scar. The way you caressed his sensitive skin, the way you slowly dragged your hands along the marred tissue over his heart… It sent a shiver down his spine. A shiver that coursed right through your own fingertips.

At this, you reeled yourself in, shaking your head a little and turning around to hide a furious blush. His reaction would stay engraved in your memory for quite some time.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you reached over for the medical supplies in your bag. You could feel Vash’s heavy gaze on your back as you did so. He watched your every move as you retrieved disinfectant and fresh bandages, and relished in how you cleaned his wound so gently. He could barely hold himself back from putting his hands on you again, trying not to get in the way of your work.

“I know it’s hard, but try not to move so much on this side,” you said, double checking to make sure the bandage was snug. “Otherwise, it’ll just keep bleeding through.”

“Mhmmm…” he hummed, although judging by the glazed look in his eyes, it didn’t really seem like he was listening. His hands snaked up your arms as he pulled you close.

Suddenly, you were pulled flush against his chest once again, and his forehead pressed softly to yours. Vash had a big, goofy smile on his face. “I can’t believe you came back.”

You wanted to smile. You really did. But you couldn’t help but feel heartbroken at the way he said those words. They didn’t quite match the look on his face. Instead, you settled for a nod and a light squeeze to his hand.

“Does this mean… you’ll stay?” He asked tentatively, suddenly not looking you in the eyes.

Your heart sank. You didn’t know what to say. Lying crossed your mind, but he probably already knew your real answer from the way you hesitated to respond.

You couldn’t do it again. As much as you cared for him, you could in no way guarantee that you could do it again. You couldn’t vow to stay the way you’d done for your mother. It was a broken promise waiting to happen.

Vash’s fingertips dug into your skin, not quite hard enough to cause pain, but hard enough that it made you look, just to be sure that it was, in fact, his hands gripping you this tightly. You turned your gaze back to him. He still refused to look you in the eyes, but you could see that his expression was pained and pleading.

“Please… Stay…” he whispered softly, his breath on your lips. “If not for me, then…”

His chest heaved slightly before he continued, taking you by surprise. “God… I was so scared. I thought you’d never come back. I thought I had failed you. I thought you would… I thought…”

At this, it was your turn to give him a hard squeeze. “You are not responsible for me, Vash,” you stated firmly, moving your head to look directly into his eyes. You couldn’t keep the frustration out of your voice. “For the love of God, don’t you ever think about yourself?”

“I am thinking about myself!” He retorted, his words dripping in a tone you weren’t used to hearing from him. It nearly made you flinch, but you stood your ground.

“Does letting others drag you into situations where you’ll get the crap beaten out of you count as thinking about yourself, then?” You hissed angrily, trying to keep your voice down. “You were worried about me, but I was freaking out about you, too! You could have died.”

“You could have died, too! In fact, you did almost die the last time, so don’t give me that!” Vash furrowed his brows. His grip on your arms was starting to sting.

“That is my business. Mine, not yours!” You said, attempting to tear yourself away from him, but he only held on even tighter. “Besides, it’s my fault that you even got into this mess to begin with!”

His grip let up and his expression softened. A few moments of silence passed by as he looked at you curiously. “Is that what you think?”

More silence. Once again, you didn’t know how to respond. You knew this was a question you’d keep coming back to, as long as Vash was the one asking. But the answer was obvious, wasn’t it? There was no other way to put it. Your demons would drag you down, and your anchors down with you.

“Listen, I am being selfish, okay?” He breathed softly into your ear, resting his temple on yours. His hands traveled up your back, wrapping you in a gentle hug, attempting to calm you down. He could feel your pulse rising. “Please, let me be selfish.”

“Let you… be selfish?”

“Yes. You said you were sorry, right?” He asked, rubbing your shoulder blades as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck. You nodded slowly. “Well, then don’t ever do that again. Don’t run from me ever again. Don’t leave me, (Y/N).”

His shaky breath felt warm against your skin. The realization was setting in for him. Swallowing your nerves, you gently wove your fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp in apology for the words you couldn’t speak. You hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions.

Vash sighed heavily. With sudden force, he squeezed you in his arms. It was too tight, too strong to escape. Once again, you could hardly breathe. 

“Well, that’s okay. I won’t let that happen. Ever again.”

[loudblonde]

Simon "Ghost" Riley X Male!Reader Mafia AU (Chapter Four) "Nice?"

Memories from last night, slight miscommunication and panic settle in as (Y/N) realise what happened, but fear not because (Y/N) wants nothing but healthy communication even if they both suck ass at it and is that... friendship forming?

+18 themes, Minors do not interact I will block you. Reblog if you enjoyed, it means a lot more then you realise, leave a comment if you want to be on the tag list. Happy holidays everyone.

Warnings: Cod typical stuff, mentions of abuse, vomit(not Emetophilia), near panic attacks because of some not so nice things. It's still based on the military propaganda game of Cod, so expect stuff like that.

Word Count: 1950 (ish)

Short chapter because I have been away to my dads place baby sitting a 40 kilo big puppy dog who really believe himself to be a lap dog. He isn't, he is very heavy and not really a puppy anymore, hard to write with him constantly demanding attention.

Read on ao3 here

(Y/N) woke with a splitting headache and groaned. The conversations from yesterday vaguely played on his mind as he rolled out of bed. “Why must I be cursed with hangovers?” (Y/N) asked as he stood up carefully, he grabbed the nearest clothes, a big t-shirt as well as some tracksuit bottoms. He hopped into the shower, ignoring the way the water hitting the tile made his head burn with the power of a thousand suns.

Finally out of the shower, dried off and dressed for comfort, (Y/N) headed into the kitchen where the familiar masked man was sitting, his mask brought just up past his lips as he drank a cup of tea. “So much for being able to hold your liquor.” Ghost said.

“I don't usually drink whiskey that quickly one after another. Damn nearly emptied that whole thing, sure does feel like it anyway.” (Y/N) said as he took 2 aspirins before taking them. He swallowed them with cold water before resting his head against the cold glass.

Ghost chuckled. “Well, you made your bed.” He said. “Or well, I made you get into bed.”

“Funnily enough I don’t remember that part.” (Y/N) said. “Although that does… right, sorry you had to do that.” He looked away from the other.

“Isn’t the first time I have done that, won’t be the last. Don’t worry about it.” Ghost said.

“I am going into the basement and enjoying the cold there.” (Y/N) said and didn’t stop to listen to what Ghost said.

He barely made it down the steps before his legs gave out from underneath him. (Y/N) leaned against the nearest wall as the cold floors sucked any heat out from his legs and torso, leaving a cold rotten feeling in his stomach. He grabbed the nearest trash can and puked.

Once done he sat back and wiped his mouth, the burn from his stomach acid stayed at the back of his throat but he couldn’t move.

No. (Y/N)’s eyes remained on his legs, those legs covered and littered in scars, scars no one, not even König had been allowed to see, despite their years together.

(Y/N) pushed away any thoughts about what the other may think or have seen as he tried to control his breathing, he needed to prevent that incoming panic attack.

(Y/N) placed his hands on his head as he groaned out. “I am in the moment, I am calm, and nothing is going on.” He whispered over and over to himself as he gently banged his hands against his head, not causing damage.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked up, only to come face to face with that Ghost mask and those intense eyes. He glared at him. “What?”

“Heard you throw up, figured you needed some water.” Ghost said, holding the glass out.

(Y/N) looked at the glass for a moment before sighing and taking it. He took some of the water, and swirled it around his mouth before spitting it out in the trash can. (Y/N) closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall.

Ghost didn’t say anything but didn’t move either, his job was to protect after all, so here he was, protecting and definitely not worried about someone he had met a day ago. No sir, this was just Ghost doing his duty to the Price Family, who (Y/N) was a part of, his boss’s son. At least, that was what Simon was trying to convince himself and Ghost.

Yeah… Simon was definitely getting too close for comfort, he was starting to care for a man he didn’t trust- didn’t completely trust…

“Why did you change my clothes?” (Y/N) asked, voice monotone much like Ghost.

Simon cleared his throat and looked at him. His eyes closed and his hands trembled lightly. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, don’t worry I didn’t see anything.” He said. “It was dark in your room.”

(Y/N) opened his eyes and looked at him, for a moment Ghost swore the eyes were red yet it disappeared just as quickly as it came, leaving him with those cold dead (E/C) eyes. “Good.” (Y/N) said before standing up. “Don’t undress me again even if I am drunk, I don’t care if I look uncomfortable or anything of that sort, do not undress me.”

(Y/N) grabbed the trashcan and walked up, leaving Ghost behind in the basement to maul over everything. Ghost knew he had made a mistake and he knew the wrath of John Price with mistakes, even though the man was better than his own family by a long shot, not that it took much, John Price was still a man to be feared.

In just that moment, Simon was 17 again, face full of regret as he had lost far too much cargo and the punishment that followed…. The years of having to prove himself over and over again just to work himself up to his position, just to regain Price's trust in him. It hadn’t been fun or pretty, he still had aches where the bullets had entered him. His elbow was graced and it had never been the same, on a cold morning it was still locking up despite years of physical training under his belt.

In short, Simon absolutely hated it. He hated the feeling, the primal fear, no, the terror he felt. He knew (Y/N) ‘earned name’ and he wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end of that.

Simon sat for far too long, his knees started hurting and his whole lower back was cold, wide eyes hid behind his mask when he finally made his way up, when he finally realised he needed to face the consequences of his actions, Simon should have known based on (Y/N)’s answer the day earlier than being seen without clothes was something far far too personal, that it was reserved for that one person, someone he genuinely seemed to care about even if he couldn’t, Simon… no Ghost was not that person, (Y/N) only knew Ghost, the weapon, the tool, the unbroken loyal dog to the Price family. (Y/N) didn’t know Simon, he was probably never going to, there was no need to know Simon, Price knew Simon but (Y/N)... (Y/N) He was just as broken as Simon yet so much more capable of not falling apart, (Y/N) in his eyes, he had no reason for a Ghost of himself.

Simon slowly walked upstairs, each step painful, long and filling his stomach with cold spiked ice. He walked up and up and up, it felt like an eternity, a staircase to hell that only went up, as though all mythology had it wrong, that heaven was deep below where there was warmth and hell was above in the cold clouds. When he finally sat foot above the cellar he looked around, waiting to find someone waiting and yet… he saw no one, well he saw (Y/N) on the couch, big headphones on and music blaring so loudly that even Ghost could hear it from a distance.

(Y/N) was drawing on his sketch block, it was still crude at this point but Ghost could clearly see the agony in the sketch, he left (Y/N) alone and went outside, sitting in the sun, just letting his mask soak up all the heat he had lost in that basement, the good thing about wearing all black, he easily got heated up.

At some point he felt someone join beside him, he looked over to where (Y/N) was sitting with his back turned to him, still drawing and now playing quieter music, Ghost still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom, but this was… nice? Pleasantly so. He wasn’t being hit or made to do anything, (Y/N) even seemed to trust him enough to sit with his back to him, Ghost knew not why but he had a very strong feeling that much within the family would shift as soon as (Y/N) took over.

(Y/N) knew that Ghost hadn’t been mean about it, he had been drunk, well, influenced and did what he was supposed to do, take care of him. He should have specifically said not to undress him but that was something they could amend. Now (Y/N) just needed to calm down and relax. With something relatively easy. Drawing and music.

So he started by drawing out his emotions, the cold reality of how he felt, getting it down on paper and then folding it away was a good way for him to sit with his emotions and problems without resorting to drinking or other less ideal activities.

He hummed when he finished and turned his music down before placing something a little more quiet on. He decided on good feelings so he started drawing Ghost in a fun halloween suit that had ghosts on it. He eventually walked outside to Ghost where they sat in silence for 30 minutes while he finished colouring in the black and white photograph, he spun around and poked Ghost on the shoulder, the man looked at him and with an almost childlike giddy grin on his face, (Y/N) showed Ghost the picture of Ghost in a Halloween ghost suit.

(Y/N) watched in amusement as Ghost snorted and took the drawing presented to him. He shook his head. “Thank you… and I am sorry, I should have-” “-None of that.” (Y/N) interrupted. “I was responsible for telling you outright but I didn’t, so it’s on me, it is an honest mistake and the fact you apologised means a lot. Just… please don’t again.”

Simon smiled and nodded. “Yes sir.” He said, causing (Y/N) to groan and chuckle.

“Sir makes me feel old, just call me (Y/N) or (Nickname).” (Y/N) said, smiling slightly.

Ghost hummed out. “(Nickname).” In a way he couldn’t put into words, not that he was good at using words, that name, that nickname fit so well on his tongue, so perfect, so… The ice was beginning to melt away.

“Simon… call me Simon.” Ghost, no Simon said.

(Y/N) smiled and bumped his shoulder with him. “Alright, Simon, but this means we are attached now, name buddies, can’t get rid of me now.” (Y/N) said. “Guess I am sticking around.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, (Nickname).” He said.

(Y/N) stood up and held his hand out. Simon took it and stood up before letting go, as (Y/N) turned around to walk back inside, Simon just looked down at his hand. He could still feel the heat from those short 3 seconds, he knew not why but he craved (Y/N)’s touch far more than he wanted to. Somehow (Y/N) had come in and torn down every single wall he had so carefully built around him for years, so carefully put up and reinforced so no one was to get in. After all, friendship isn’t in the field manual they were given, it wasn’t taught to them when Price trained them. It was not usable, it wasn’t necessary and yet, (Y/N), who Simon figured would be just as touch starved, was just coming in here, spending two days with him and already Ghost wants to become familiar, perhaps even friends, they were connected somehow in a way he had never felt before, it confused him and he had just given (Y/N) permission to use his name, to call him Simon and in return, he had been given a nickname to use, it was… nice? Was this friendship?

Tag list:

@rasberry-jupiter

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Please reblog if you enjoyed this

[goldnskyart]

Skateboards and jam chapter 4/4

Finally this is it, the last chapter (for now at least) writing this has brought me a lot of joy so I hope reading it has done the same for you <3 also special thanks to @princeinsecurity for beta reading all of this and not letting me embarrass myself with my horrendous grammar

Ao3 | <- previous | first | next? ->

Virgil got more and more comfortable in Roman’s presence, and after a while he enthusiastically participated in the conversation. No one would’ve guessed they were strangers just a few hours ago. Neither of them quite realized how long they had been sitting there until the street lights flickered on. “Oh shit, is it that late already?” Virgil exclaimed. “I should probably be going before I miss my bus.” He smiled sadly at the other and jumped back up on his feet. “Alright, well I’ll follow you there.” Roman also got on his feet and gave him a smile, this was the happiest he’d been in a long time and he really didn’t want to part with him until it was absolutely necessary. Seeing the skater smile at him still made him weak in the knees, he didn’t understand how anyone could be that beautiful or how he could be lucky enough to see it so many times. He didn’t know if it was possible to fall harder than he already had, but if it was, he certainly did every time he saw that smile.

Virgil brushed the dirt off his pants and picked up his board before they started walking, by now the air was chilly. It was clearly going towards autumn, but there was still some time to go before the leaves started to change color. Roman shuddered a little. “I really didn’t plan to be out this late, huh?” He chuckled, rubbing his hands along his bare arms. Virgil held out his skateboard towards him. “Could you hold this for a moment?” Confused, Roman nodded and clumsily took it in his left hand, it felt heavier than before. Without saying a word Virgil slid out of his hoodie and gently placed it over Roman’s shoulders before taking his board back. “I- oh, thank you.” He mumbled, looking away as he pulled the hoodie closer, his face slowly turning a bright red. It was warm and smelled like him, how could his stomach not be filled with butterflies? “Won’t you get cold now though?” He really didn’t want to give it back, but he also didn’t want the skater to be cold. “Nah don’t worry, I’m still wearing a whole lot more than you were,” Virgil chuckled, pretending that he didn’t also feel his cheeks heat up. He didn’t know what got into him to make him do that, but seeing Roman in his hoodie made him lose his breath, shyly looking away to try and calm himself before glancing back. They walked beside each other in silence for a bit, both a little too flustered to start the conversation back up. If Virgil hadn’t been holding the board, Roman might have reached for his hand.

He had no idea where they were going, heck he barely knew there were buses here, he was just following Virgil. As they got closer he noticed several pass by, the skater sighed and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “God damn it, I just missed it..” He groaned. “The next one isn’t for another hour.” He rubbed his forehead, annoyed. At least he hadn’t missed that one, the last one of the night, or he would’ve had to walk home. “I’ll wait with you.” Roman smiled at him, an excuse to get to hang out with him more. He thought about inviting him to stay at his place, but figured that’d be moving a bit too fast even by his standards. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be anyway.” He chuckled a little, it was starting to get pretty late and he was getting tired, but tried to just shake it off. He was more than happy to sacrifice some sleep to be around Virgil for even just a little longer. “Well if you want to I won’t protest” Virgil smiled shyly, making his way over to his usual spot. The road wasn’t heavily trafficked, but still a bit too loud for him to comfortably sit right beside. So he had found himself a spot a bit away, but still close enough to both hear and see what was going on. He basically dropped down the skateboard before sitting down, leaning against the chilly wall. Roman soon followed, sitting down right next to him, legs criss crossed and hoodie still over his shoulders. Maybe it was a little too close, but Virgil didn’t seem bothered so he figured it was fine.

Roman yawned, watching as the skater pulled out his phone and started scrolling through tiktok. They just sat there watching video after video in silence for a bit, most of them were either animals, pro skaters or makeup. Not too unlike what he might watch himself, just a little darker. However, it didn’t exactly help him get less tired. After a while he let his cheek gently rest on the other’s shoulder, and dozed off pretty quickly. Virgil tensed up a bit upon feeling him rest against his shoulder, any touch sent an electric wave through his entire body, making his heart race. Glancing over he realized Roman had fallen asleep. With a wide grin growing on his face, Virgil tried to resist the temptation to plant a soft kiss on his head. Putting his phone down on the ground he just leaned back against the wall, letting the butterflies dance in his stomach. He wondered what kind of strange dream this was.

Virgil was just quietly enjoying the others' presence until his mind started to race again, realizing they never exchanged numbers or anything, he’d have no way to contact him again once he left. A slight panic took hold of him. He really didn’t want to wake him up until he had to, but he also couldn’t risk never getting to see him again, not after all of this. Closing his eyes for a moment he took a deep breath, trying to come back to his senses. He remembered he’d seen Roman carry a pen in his pocket sometimes- maybe he did today too. Moving ever so slightly he caught a glimpse of the one closest to him, and he was in luck, not only did he have it, it was also halfway out of his pocket because of the way he was sitting. Virgil smiled a little to himself and very slowly reached out a hand to grab it, careful not to wake him up by moving too much. Taking hold of the pen, he pulled an old receipt out of his own pocket and pressed it against his leg as he wrote, before nearly folding it and putting it back in Roman’s pocket along with the pen. Figuring he would find it at some point.

Finally breathing a sigh of relief, he gently rested his head on Roman’s, thankful he had a whole energy drink earlier, or he might have also fallen asleep. He just stayed there for a bit, enjoying being this close to him. At this point the light was disappearing quickly, fading into a soft purple and pink sunset. It was like something out of a movie. Virgil gently blew some air into the other's face, hoping he’d wake up just from that. “Morning sunshine” he teased, noticing him slowly opening his eyes again “you almost missed the sunset”.

Roman’s face turned a couple shades brighter realizing he’d been sleeping on his shoulder, and for quite a while too, judging by the change in light. But Virgil didn’t seem to mind. Actually a slight smile danced on his lips as he watched the sun disappear behind the trees, oh he was beautiful. The sunset was nice too, stunning even, but it still couldn’t compare to Virgil. His smile always made his heart try to jump out of his chest but this was something different, he just looked content in a way he hadn’t seen before, the soft light bouncing on his face just highlighting his beauty. “Yeah, it’s gorgeous.” Roman yawned, barely trying to hide that he wasn’t really paying attention. Shuddering a bit and pulling the hoodie tightly around him. Virgil was starting to feel a little chilly as well but it shouldn’t be too long now so he’d manage, besides it’s not like he could take his hoodie back now when Roman was all comfy in it. Not to mention how cute he was in it, just looking at him made him feel all soft inside.

Picking his phone up off the ground he checked the time and sighed a little, it was time to start moving. “Well looks like I should start to get going-“ he stretched a little before starting to get back onto his feet. It would’ve been nice to stay longer, but well all good things gotta end at some point right? Virgil brushed the dust off of his black jeans and checked that he hadn’t forgotten anything, before picking his board back up. Roman rubbed his eyes under his big round glasses, moving them up onto his forehead for a moment. “Already?” He smiled sadly at the other, before starting to get ready to stand back up. “Not my fault you slept through most of it-“ the skater teased “it won’t be here quite yet but better safe than sorry.. Well, it was nice meeting you.” He gave him a shy smile and slowly started to turn around.

Quickly Roman bounced to his feet. “Wait!” He exclaimed. “Just one more thing!” A gust of wind gently moving his hair out of his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” He just blurted it out without really thinking. Virgil immediately stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. Thoughts were racing in his head and yet they were all drowned out by the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest, was this real?! Was this something that was actually happening? He just stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. Oh shit, he should probably say something before it was too late and he changed his mind. “I- uh yeah, sure.” He awkwardly stuttered out. A wide grin grew on Roman's face. Not wasting any time he leaned in and pressed their lips together, one hand resting on Virgil’s neck and the other holding on to the hoodie draped over his shoulder, not wanting to drop it. He couldn’t quite believe it, he finally got to kiss him. Virgil's eyes somehow widened even further at the touch, even though Roman asked, he still hadn’t been convinced he’d actually do it. Maybe he was just messing with him or something. But clearly he wasn’t. Getting over the initial shock he embraced the butterflies dancing in his stomach, slowly closed his eyes and kissed him back. Instinctively his free hand reached for the other, but not knowing where he should place it it was left just hovering in the air between them.

After what felt like an eternity to Virgil, but in reality only was at most a couple minutes, he pulled away. “I should- uh I have to go..” His face quickly turning several shades of red, he avoided Roman’s gaze as he turned around and left to the bus stop. Gently touching his left hand to his lips. This whole thing was new and scary to him and he didn’t know how to deal with the avalanche of emotions, so he just ran away from all of it.

“I- oh okay, bye-“ Roman felt his stomach sink, the sparkles that filled it just moments ago were all gone. Realizing he hadn’t bothered to consider what his actual reply was, just that it wasn’t no. Quickly his face lost all color. Did Virgil actually not really want to kiss him and just didn’t want to upset him? No, no that couldn’t be it, he did kiss him back after all, why would he do that if he didn’t like him like that? Sure he didn’t seem too excited about it, but maybe he was just awkward. And he did give him his jacket, could that really be just platonic? The thoughts kept spinning around in his head as he just stood there, frozen in place watching as the bus came and went. Did he really fuck up that badly?

Virgil walked with his head down, he doubted anyone was around at this time but just in case, he didn’t want anyone to see the stupid grin on his face. And there was no way to get rid of it. It just came for free with all these brand new emotions, he’d never felt this many good things before- usually his feelings were more of the opposite nature. He got there just in time to catch the bus, thankfully it was mostly empty and he got to sit by himself. Letting out a gentle sigh he leaned against the window, letting his thoughts wander freely. Cursing himself a bit for not getting Roman’s number, waiting for him to hopefully find the note and text was absolute torture.

Roman took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes again, trying to calm himself a bit. He pulled the hoodie closer as he slowly started to make his way back home, sticking his hands deep in the shorts pockets. His curiosity peaked as he noticed a paper in one of them. Pulling it out it looked like a receipt of some sort, strange, it’s been a while since he got any kind of receipt. And it was nicely folded too. Curiously he unfolded it, now he was certain it wasn’t his. This was really strange. Turning it around a smile started to grow on his face, it wasn’t too easy to read but a phone number was written in big scratches. Under that a message was hastily written:

“I think you’re cute too- maybe message me sometime??

ps you can keep the hoodie for now ;)

xx V”

Romans face split up in a big smile, gently pressing the note against his chest. So he did like him like that. Suddenly all worries were completely washed away, replaced with something that felt more like fireworks exploding in his chest. He quickly pulled his phone out of the other pocket and put the number in before sending a message ‘hi <3’ he giggled a little to himself. ‘btw thanks for the hoodie ;)’ that was an easy way to let Virgil know it was him.

Hearing his phone buzz, Virgil’s heart skipped a few beats and he rushed to get it out of his pocket. He anxiously chewed a little on one of his nails as he pulled it up, realizing it was indeed from Roman, a bright smile lit up his face again. ‘Anytime lol’ he typed quickly, ‘I won’t be getting that back anytime soon, huh?’ Staring at the screen as he saw him typing. ‘nope- at least not until you let me take you on a date ;)’ Roman sent back. Virgil’s face flushed, he laughed quietly to himself. ‘That won’t take long then- just tell me when’ Butterflies danced in his stomach at the thought, as if whatever they did today couldn’t be considered a date. ‘Alright then, tomorrow at 4pm, same place?’ That was quick. ‘Sounds good to me’ he sent back, not even thinking about it. if he had something else planned then that’d just have to move. ‘It's a date then!’ He quickly got back, a fond smile grew on his face ‘it’s a date <3’

[silawastaken]

HELLO, ITS CHRIXYTY FROM AO3!!!! i decided to make a tumblr account just so i can interact with you on here :3 why? because i can. dont question me. i do strange things sometimes. (a lot of the time) but dont we all?

(i was serious when i said i would stop hovering like a ghost and start interacting. you better expect a LOT of comments from me from now on BECAUSE I JUST NEED TO SHOW MY APPRECIATION.)

ANYWAYS CHAPTER 13 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ THANK YOU FOR THIS WONDERFUL PIECE OF ART. THIS WHOLE FIC IS A MASTERPIECE AND I LOVE THE ANGST !!! (ESPECIALLY DAZAI ANGST 🤗)

like im not even joking no fic has ever made my heart pound every second i read it before...like literally nothing could be happening and my heart is pounding at 150 bpm like damn its so good you might give me a heart attack frfr.

chuuyas so dense but i can kinda get his point of view :( UGH the slow burn is just making me anticipate the moment he finds out dazai's his soulmate even more...(betting chuuya will punch dazai out of anger because he realises dazai did all those things to himself...and then he'll feel the pain from the punch and be 100% certain and will start bawling cause idk emotion overload?? i can imagine it but yea im yapping a lot haha)

OH AND HIS FRIENDS FINDING OUT ABOUT ODAS DEATH??? AHH

also it makes me happy when authors refer to the canon universe in their fics somewhere like when dazai called his friends his "little detective agency" like its a small detail but it just makes me happy.

okay im SERIOUSLY yapping way too much but i needed to get all this out somewhere. my bsf is getting sick of me talking so much grrrrr >:(

(permission to one day when this fic is finished print it all out and bind it?? so i can forever keep it as like a memento and pass it down to future generations so they too can appreciate this amazing piece of literature??)

wow i wrote a lot. if only i could write this much for my fic in such a short time during writer's block.

WAITWAITWAITWAIT. I NORMALLY TRY TO ANSWER THESE TOPIC BY TOPIC BUT BINDING. MY. FIC???? HELL YES YOU HAVE PERMISSION WHAT THE HELL??? THAT'S SO COOL??? if i ask very nicely would you make me one too..? I'd pay postage and everything 🙏🙏 i wish i had the patience to bind fics into books but it requires so much time and patience that I don't have 😭

My only thing I would want to say is that I plan on revising some of the earlier chapters where it doesn't quite flow the way the rest of the chapters do, so if I finish it before I've done that (which probably won't happen, but just in case), I would recommend waiting a little!

ANYWAY. making an entire tumblr acc just to interact with me here? ...that's dedication man🫡 I already said it but I appreciate EVERY comment i get so i will be waiting with baited breath after every chapter!!

Glad you're loving the angst tho, I'm having a lot of the time throwing dazai and chuuya into a washing machine full of stones every chapter. great character building.

The reveals are gonna be so fun I can't wait to write them honestly. I'm so excited!!! Still got ages to go tho, so strap in it's gonna be a while.

I ALSO LOOOOVE REFERENCING THE CANON WHILE WRITING. THE NYE FLASHBACK WHERE DAZAI THINKS ABOUT HIS CONVERSATION WHERE THEY WANT TO BE DETECTIVES. OMG. I WAS SO PROUD OF THAT. AND THE 'soulmate detective agency'.

Do not feel bad about writing a lot cause I loved reading this and responding and once again YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO BIND IT ONCE IT'S DONE.

[candyfloss-esophagus]

Heyo, it's me! Not being late for once!

Okay, ask game time! (not holding back this time so get ready!)

These are all for Crying Wolf, cause I'll never be normal about it <3

☼

☄

✄

♡

☠

☾

☽

∞

★

(I know you've answered similar questions about the fic before, so feel free to skip those if you don't wanna answer them again <3 )

Hey, thanks for the ask!! I'm sure I have answered similar questions in the past but fortunately for you, my brain is a sieve that has been thrown over the edge of a waterfall.

☼: how i came up with the idea

I didn't actually come up with the idea all by myself, I'm part of the noirpunk discord server that regularly has little round robin fics and snippets that everyone can add onto. In its very early days, we were discussing what would happen if there were a symbiote that was virtually undetectable (and also, tangentially, what would happen if Hobie became infected) and I was so intrigued by this concept that I asked to use it in an actual fic!

☄: what the writing process was like

Arduous. Writing is like pulling teeth for me lol and Crying Wolf is certainly no outlier. I wrote chronologically whenever I had the time to sit down and think about it, but I had it vaguely planned out from the get-go. The only thing was that I added in another chapter -- chapter four was never meant to exist! I was going to shove everything that happened in chapter four and five in together but that seemed like a little much.

✄: something i deleted before the final draft

I post on a chapter by chapter basis because I'm too impatient to keep an entire wip to myself (trying to change that!) but there was going to be a scene where the symbiote was explicitly purged from Hobie. I decided not to write it because of medical semantics and how it would have made it even longer and also because my mental health was like a raft strapped together by duct tape at that point in the year.

♡: my favorite part

My favourite part is the end bit and Peter's conversation with Hobie because that was the thing that the server went into most detail about when we were cooking up the whole concept. I love thinking back to that night so much!

☠: something i found challenging

Fucking writing the damn thing lol. Motivation is very tricky for me and finishing what I start is even moreso (ta adhd!) but we got there in the end!!! As mentioned before, writing is difficult for me and I'm not actually a very good writer so trying to get it to a standard that I felt honoured what we had originally come up with in the server was definitely a challenge.

☾: how i thought people would respond to the fic

I.. didn't? Getting comments is so incredibly rare and special to me and the fact that I get so many purely because I write the most for noirpunk on ao3 is WILD.

☽: how people *actually* responded

Well they responded for a start lol. I got veritable essays on how bad I made people feel and theories for how it would progress and how well done the whole thing was and people from the server cheering me on and even one person who only investigated for the cannibalism, and were grossed out by it which is incredible. It was just a torrent of warmth and love and it was so confusing to me at the time but so important now looking back. It was an awful time for me and my life and having all those comments and responses was so special.

∞: something i wish i’d done differently

I read back on it a few days ago and it all seems so superficial to me now, so suffice to say most things and be done with it there.

★: something i’m proud to have accomplished

Just fuckin. Writing it. Finishing it. Impacting people's lives with it. That's why I write that's why I do this. And it was my first foray into more violent stuff so I'm glad I started it by diving in headfirst instead of just dipping my toes in.

Thank you for the ask! Ask game for any other fics of mine that you care to hear about is here, the fic Crying Wolf is here, and I hope you have a lovely day!!

[strawberryspence]

DAE's STEDDIE FICS

I am not taking requests right now.

🍦 Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson 🎸

Chaptered

for your eyes only (i'll show you my heart)

(7 Chapters completed on AO3)

“Damn you, Harrington.” Eddie shakes his head, looking back at the box again. He can see Robin looking at him, but Eddie avoids looking at her. He didn’t want to answer questions about his damn crush on Steve freaking Harrington and how he keeps getting more perfect by the minute. Eddie needs him to stop, like literally right now.

“Oh my god,” Dustin screams, making Eddie look at him from across the room. Eddie finds him staring at someone, so he follows his line of sight and finds one Steve Harrington, yeah, that one, the one he just asked a second ago to stop being perfect? Yeah, that guy is standing at the bottom of the stairs with a crumpled box in his hands and is wearing glasses.

Steve Harrington just exceeded perfect.

-

Or: 5 times Eddie falls in love with Steve wearing glasses and the 1 time Steve finds out.

choose the rose garden (over madison square)

(5 Chapters completed on AO3)

Eleven Blooms is Steve Harrington’s pride and joy.

The first time El visits the flower shop, she cries. She cries, and she cries, as Steve holds her in his arms, thanking her for everything she’s ever done for all of them, telling her that no matter how many flowers he’ll watch grow in his life, Jane Hopper would be the prettiest, brightest, strongest one of them all and it’s been a privilege to watch her bloom into the person she’s always meant to be

-

Or: It's 1991, Joyce and Hop are finally getting married. Steve owns a flower shop, Eddie's a rockstar and everyone's tired of their bullshit.

i’ve got you under my skin

(5 Chapters completed on AO3)

“Who’s getting married?” Steve whispers. Eddie smiles at him, and Steve swears he’s never seen that much of Eddie’s teeth.

“You and I, sweetheart. We’re getting married.”

Eddie gives him a look, thank God, something familiar in this whole mess. It’s the look that Eddie gives him that says Do this or I’ll fire you. Steve cocks his head, “Yes! Yes!”

He looks back at Gareth, “We are getting married.” Steve announces, enunciating every word.

Or: Steve Harrington has to marry Eddie Munson (also know as the Devil Incarnate), so Eddie won’t get deported back to Canada and for Steve to finally achieve his dream to be a producer.

Or: The Proposal AU Steddie Edition

One Shots

i saw the world crashing (all around your face)

(9,7k words)

"How're you feeling?" Eddie quietly whispers, the conversation private for just the two of them, even if there are people around them.

"Okay. I think. Your injuries hurt like a bitch." Eddie laughs, full-on paughs, his eyes wrinkling into a crescent. Dear fucking god, he had dimples. Yeah, Steve is a goner. Eddie Munson had a smile that could rival the sun. He thinks this might be his new life mission: make Eddie Munson laugh and smile for the rest of his life.

Or: Steve Harrington begs the universe to keep Eddie Munson alive while he carries him in his arms. Someone must have heard im in the Upside Down because Eddie's injuries transfer to him.

you're beautiful (every little piece, love)

(7,5k words)

Steve Harrington would do anything for the kids. Anything.

Apparently that includes shaving his hair.

shakespeare and warm drinks

(4,8k words)

She’s not sure of a lot of things. But here are three things Joyce Hopper knows right now:

1. She makes the best hot chocolates in Hawkins, maybe the whole of Indiana.

2. She loved Shakespeare in high school.

3. She is not a great matchmaker.

Or: The one where Joyce matchmakes Steve and Eddie: Shakespeare Style.

this love came back to me

(15,9k words)

"And you do know that people are curious, right?" Oprah pushes her glasses up, "Everyone is curious as to who and how you can write such heartbreaking songs without anyone ever seeing your date?"

The camera flicks to Steve, and he blinks back at her, "Yes. I am aware."

"Where is this muse?" The camera flickers between Oprah and Steve as they laugh at the question.

"My muse is chilling in the skies, watching me play. He's probably berating me for stealing his sweetheart."

Or: After Eddie's death, Steve returns to the Upside Down to retrieve his guitar. He learns how to play it and ends up becoming a famous singer, famous for his heartbreaking songs about longing and yearning for someone. For a while, that's it. It's not until sixteen years later, that some secrets are uncovered.

this umbrella belongs to me (to us)

(13,8k words)

Sarah Hayes is nineteen when she finds out she’s pregnant. She had just graduated high school, and she just gotten accepted into Indiana University, and this was supposed to be her year.

Now— now she’s pregnant.

Damn, Wade Munson and his damn smooth talking and his damn brown eyes. She should’ve never agreed on that date.

Or: 5 times fate tried to pull Eddie and Steve together through an umbrella, and the one time it finally brings them together.

lumière over me

(1,2k words)

Growing and changing will always be easier for Steve when Eddie’s with him. It doesn’t matter if it has been 10 years, 20 years or even 50 years.

Series

was there a lifetime waiting for us (in a world where i was yours?)

one: you're the pulse i've always needed

(9,2k words)

28 years after Eddie Munson's death, Steve Harrington watches The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and hears a song that changes his life.

two: my soul looks forward to loving you

(3 chapters completed on AO3)

"I don't shake hands." Eddie gives him a look. Steve can't decipher what it is. Fascination? Curiosity? Interest?

"Soulmate non-believer?" Eddie challenges.

Steve raises an eyebrow at him before answering, "Romantic soulmate non-believer."

"Shake my hand. Nothing's going to happen, love. Not ever.”

-

Or: In their next life, a universe where if you hold your soulmate's hand, you will see visions of a past life lived together, Stephen Buckley and Edward Munson both don't believe in soulmates.

[aberfaeth]

top five fics (ever. for a fandom/pairing. by people you know. by strangers. whatever u want go crazy) ORRRR top five fob songs bc I know u and ilu and I wanna hear ur thoughts

hi sav. hope you know what you've unleashed here.

TOP FIVE FICS.....EVER

tell me about the big bang (star wars sequel trilogy, Finn/Poe, 37.8k.) i made my mom read this fic and that's not a bit i literally had her read this. and she isn't even a star wars fan. like she's seen tfa but she wasn't even that into it i just made her read this because it's one of humanity's greatest literary achievements and she still brings it up to me in conversation that's how much she enjoyed it. sorry this turned into more of tmatbb being one of my mom's top five fics but yknow. context. anyways i don't want to say too much about it because i don't want to spoil it for anyone who might check it out which Please Do That but suffice to say. it is a work of fucking art and i can only hope to someday write with half the talent nina varela possesses in her pinky finger

darling i'd wait for you, even if you didn't ask me to (the great pretender season 1, Laurent/Makoto, 11k.) swear to god this isn't me sucking up it is still the best gift i have ever received in my life. hey you reading this have you ever conceptualized a fic and went "boy i wish i could feed this into a machine and it would execute the idea perfectly in a way that managed to surprise and delight me as i read it" well you simply must get yourself a sav. because she will do that for you. anyways watch tgp season one literally just to read this fic.

Be Gay; Solve Crime (american vandal, Peter/Sam, 9.2k.) this fic has everything--outsider POV! perfectly in character banter! angie and michael who are real and canon to me! mr fernandez did you eat shit! gay lou carter! do your string thing man! MING, EVEN!!!!!! consider this a rotating spot for the work of my lovely lovely friends in the hanover high AV club, who have churned out some of the bangers of all fucking time which i talked about some of those in a top five ask four calendar years ago

Over & Through (dimension 20 fantasy high, gen, 62.7k.) also made my mom read this. she got the riz chapter first and said it gave her horrifying acid trip dreams. which is honestly so fair. if you are a dimension 20 fan and you haven't read this fic what are you doing. the form is inventive the prose is stunning the characterization is painfully sharp. if you've been watching neverafter going hey i wish this was actually horror READ THIS RIGHT NOW THE HORROR IS IMMACULATE

If You Could Let Me Inside Your Heart (leverage, ot3, 2.5k.) remains my favorite leverage fic of all time and also my favorite group character study. what a lovely premise and executed with such grace and perfect understanding of character and pacing like so much work is done for its length and GOD IS IT ALL GORGEOUS

okay haha onto the fall out boy--JUST KIDDING. I HOPE YOU HAD YOUR WEAPON READY TO TAKE ME OUT BECAUSE ONE TIME I SAID IF I EVER MADE A RECLIST WITHOUT I HATE TO LOOK INTO THOSE EYES AND SEE AN OUNCE OF PAIN YOU WOULD HAVE TO SHOOT ME BECAUSE I'D BE A POD PERSON. SO HERE'S ME DOING THAT, PLEASE READ IT, READ IT NOW. WHAT FANDOM OR PAIRING OR LENGTH? YOU GET TO FIND OUT WHEN YOU CLICK! THAT! LINK!

okay haha onto the fall out boy. so i earnestly did try to come up with my top five fob songs on my own. then i had a breakdown and filled out the whole damn fob song sorter yes all 500 battles. heres my top 25. note the repetition of numbers indicating my inability to make decisions

elaborations on the medal winners:

THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT: when this song came out i was thirteen years old (in middle school) (did not have my own itunes account) (did not have spotify) and as all songs do it was released at midnight (i was thirteen) (supposed to be asleep) (it was a school night) i hid under the covers with my ipod touch on the lowest brightness setting (supposed to be asleep on a school night) midnight arrived and i could not buy the song on itunes because then my parents would get an email about the purchase and know i had stayed up (i was supposed to be asleep) so i just listened to the 30 second preview on itunes for like an hour straight (i cried) (a lot)

THE (SHIPPED) GOLD STANDARD: me for real bc im literally no good at math

(COFFEE'S FOR CLOSERS): also in middle school i used to doodle song lyrics to keep myself focused during class and my history professor was taking a walk around the classroom and spotted my doodle of a little coffee cup with the lyrics "i will never believe in anything again" and went "aw why not," clearly concerned for my mental health and wellbeing. and despite that horribly traumatizing experience, coffee's for closers remains one of my favorite songs in the world. so thats proof that its really very good

OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS IN THE WORLD: you only hold me up like thiiiiis cause you don't know who i really aAAaaAAAaam

PAVLOVE: sorry its the quirky girl tendencies again. when will they put this on spotify so i can scream my little heart out to I WANT TO MAKE YOU AS LONELY AS MEEEE SO YOU CAN GET GET ADDICTED TO THIS YOU CAN GET GET ADDICTED TO THIS! anyways folie >

now, a disclaimer: this sorter is obviously older than two weeks and thus does not include the songs off SMFS. i feel like recency bias means i can't accurately fit them into the list but i will say that there is no universe in which hold me like a grudge doesn't make top fifteen

if you've reached the end of this post, thanks for going on this journey with me. i meant to be asleep an hour ago. but i did this instead. was it worth it. well whos to say. if you ended up reading IHTLITEASAOOP then yes it was.

[sailor-aviator]

Hello it’s me….. AGAIN

What’s your favorite quote/line you’ve written in each of your fics? (You can keep it to the longer ones if you want, I just need answers)

Okay, so my answered might be kind of long, so answer under the cut lol

For DHTN, probably Jake's whole speech from Chapter Seven:

“I’ll tell you what makes me happy,” he murmured, moving closer to you so that the puffs of your breaths intermingled. “It makes me happy when I beat Bradley and Javy at darts. It makes me happy when I feel the wind in my hair as I ride Whiskey. It makes me happy knowing that you moved to town all those months ago. It makes me happy when you chew my ass out the way I deserve instead of swoonin’ over me like all the other girls do.” You sobbed out a laugh, and he smiled softly, resting his forehead against yours. He reached up to cradle your jaw in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It makes me happy,” he continued, “when you say I look handsome. It makes me happy when you laugh at something I say. It makes me happy when that nose of yours wrinkles when you scowl at me. It makes me happy when you let me hold you like this. It makes me happy when you let me feel and see all of you.” You blushed at that, and he closed his eyes with a hum, gently swaying the two of you from side to side. “You make me happy, Scout,” he sighed. “You make me happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. I want to spend the rest of my life finding out all the things there are to know about you, and even then I’ll still want more of you.” He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of desperation and stoicism. “That’s what makes me happy,” he whispered, pulling away from you.

For MMATS, I don't think I have a favorite line yet because it's just been vibes so far. But, we'll have more Jake and Skipper dialogue here soon, and I think my favorite line/dialogue will be in one of the upcoming conversations!

For Fool's Fare, I think it's actually where I've done some of my best prose writing for fanfic so far. I'm very partial to the opening of the Prologue:

The ocean was a deep, terrifying swirl of forgotten pasts and harrowing mysteries. The vicious pull of the waves sending many sailors to their graves for thousands of years without mercy. No, the ocean was not kind. It was the source of life on the best of occasions and cruel and unforgiving on the worst.

And because I haven't written much for them yet, I don't think I have any for Singing in the Sanctuary or Outrun the Devil.

Now, I do have a couple of favorite lines from the various drabbles I've written...

From DHTN:

You deserved to be happy, and he would trade his chance at happiness if it meant you'd live a life full of it.

"You know," Jake continued softly, "I never thought much about marriage before I met you. Never thought I'd meet a girl who'd make me want it enough. But then you strolled into town, and I knew." He huffed out a laugh. "I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Knew I'd move heaven and earth if it gave me even a small chance at stayin' by your side." He sighed, kissing the top of your head. "I dream about it all the time, you know," he mused. "Dream about building you a nice, big house that we can grow old in. Dream about how cute you'd look waddlin' around the house with our baby in your tummy. Dream about how we'd look, old and grey as we sit on the porch and watch the grandbabies runnin' around the yard." He breathed in the top of your head, dropping his cheek to rest there. "I think about what it would be like to hold you in my arms just like this for the rest of my life. I think about what it would be like for you to smile at me the way you do at everyone else. You look so pretty when you smile, you know? I think about what it would be like to kiss you after you lose that damn temper of yours. I just think about you, Scout. My heart hurts from how bad I want all of it with you."

From Fool's Fare, literally the entire "Jake has a nightmare" drabble, but the last line specifically still gives me chills:

Seven years had come and gone. Seven years was almost up.

From MMATS:

She feels you too, just like you feel her.

[fandomtherapy44]

castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Dean and Sam. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 5,854

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural, the boys being mean to y/n, love spells

Chapter seven: Sex and violence

Y/n's POV

I was on my way back from getting some coffee and doughnuts for my brothers and I because there was no way that we wouldn't stop for these anyway. So, I thought I might as well get it out of the way and save some time and let my brothers sleep as much as they could considering the last few weeks. I was also wondering how Cas was doing. I haven't seen him these last few weeks. I kind of wished I had, just being around him somehow makes me be calmer and that's important with the stressful job I have. I hope he didn't get in trouble for when he hesitated to knock me out or that he's not hurt when Alastair almost pulled a uno reverse on him. I wish he could have a damn phone so I'm not worrying half of the time. 

As I open the motel room door, I make sure to be extra quiet to not wake Sam and Dean. I look to the beds and see Dean in one but not Sam. Then I hear his voice from the bathroom. “Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. No storms, no bad crops, nothing.” Demon signs? Who was he talking to this early in the morning? I was sure it was not Bobby because I knew he just got done with a pretty nasty werewolf case and was properly sleeping off the beer and coffee along with exhaustion. I try to stand still to not warn Sam then I hear sheets moving and look to see Dean awake listening to the same interesting conversation. “Yeah, okay. We'll keep looking. You keep looking too, OK? All right. Talk soon.” 

Sam finished and was coming out of the bathroom. I ran back to the door to make it look like I had just got back and slammed the door loud. “Hey guys I got coffee and doughnuts for us.” I said placing the drinks and food down on the table trying to sound normal. They both kind of looked at it like I had just gotten a five-star steak meal. They both come over grabbing some joe and a pastry. “Thanks Y/n/n” Dean said, stuffing his face with sprinkles falling out as a result. “Yes, thank you Y/n” Sam replied, grabbing a cup of joe and got a half of a doughnut with him being a health nut and all. “So, were you both sleeping?” I asked, trying not to seem obvious. “Dean was, I was in the can.” “Really” Dean and I both replied. 

“Yeah guys, you want me to draw you a picture?” “Nah We’ll pass I think.” I said sitting on the bed trying not to think about the secret convo in the bathroom. “Found a job. Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer.” Sam said, handing us a newspaper about the story. “Oh my gosh.” “And get this. Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married.” “Once is sad and disturbing but three is a pattern.” I said looking at the man in the picture looking very happy with his now very dead wife. “Ahh. Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet.” Dean said, grabbing the newspaper from me. “More like The Shining.” Sam replied with a smirk. “All right, well I guess we'd better have a look.” Dean said moving to the bathroom to get ready for the day and me failing to not think about who the Hell was Sam talking to.

Currently we were sitting in the integration room with the man of the hour. He kept on ignoring eye contact like he was ashamed to look at us. “Why does the PD keep sending you guys? I already said I don't want a lawyer.” “They're lining up the firing squad.” Dean replied, staring the man in the eyes. “I'm pleading guilty.” He said back to us. “All right, look, you don't want us to represent you, that's fine. In fact it's probably not a bad idea, between you and me. We just wanna understand what happened, that's all.” “Mr. Benson. Please.” I said trying a softer approach with him. “What happened was, I killed my wife. You wanna know why? Because she made plans without asking me.” Well, there is another reason to not to date. “Now when it happened, how did you feel? Disoriented, out of control?��� Sam asked. “Like something was telling you or possessed you to do it?” I said. “I knew exactly what I was doing. I was crystal clear.” He replied with no stuttering, it was chilling. “Then why'd you, do it?” Dean asked. “I don't know. I loved her. We were happy.” I brought some papers out on the table of his bank statements and tapped on them. “For a man who loved his wife you were sure spending a lot of secret money on 'M & C Entertainment'.” “I don't know what you're talking about.” Come on dude you murdered your wife the least you can do is tell the truth. 

“It means you were dropping fifties on some nude entertainment.” “We just wanna know the truth, Mr. Benson.” Sam added in. “Her name was Jasmine.” Like the Disney princess? “She was a stripper?” Sam questioned. “Dude, her name was Jasmine.” Dean said matter of factly. “I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't like to go to strip bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party, and there she was. She came right up to me. And...I dunno, she was just...perfect. Everything that I wanted.” “Well, you pay enough, and anybody will be anything.” Dean said and he was not wrong. “It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even about the sex. It was...I dunno. I....I don't know what it was. It's hard to explain.” It sounds like this man was down bad for this princess. “And your wife found out?” I asked curious. “No, she never had a clue.” “Then why'd you kill her?” “For Jasmine. She said we would be together forever. If...if only Vicki was…” Dead, damn whatever this is it really wants to be the only woman. “Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet, and she never showed. I don't know where she lives, I don't know her last name, I don't even know her real first name! I'm an idiot.” He is but this was not all his fault I have inkling that something else was at play than good sex. “And you didn't think to tell this to the cops?” Sam questioned. “What for? The stripper didn't do it, I did it. And I know what I deserve. The judge doesn't give me the death sentence, I'll just do it myself.”

Sam and I are going to go talk to the head doctor to hopefully get some answers while Dean was finding if the other men had matched with Bensen’s spending. As we walked in the office the doctor was taking some Advil. “Rough night?” Sam questioned. “Fun night. Rough morning.” She said while rubbing her forehead. “Can I help you?” She asked us and I replied. “Ahhh...yes. Um, I'm Special Agent Ross, Agent Stiles, FBI. You Doctor Cara Roberts?” “Far as I know.” “You do some work with the Sheriff's department?” Sam asked. “Yeah, when I'm not slogging it through the ER. It's a small town. We multi-task.” “We have some questions about a case. About several cases actually. Do you mind if we sit?” Sam asked for us. “Great. Adam Benson, Jim Wylie, and Steve Snyder.” I said, referring to the men. “Oh yeah, the men who killed their wives?” “You handled their work-ups, right?” She nodded her head. “Autopsies for the wives and tox screens for the perps. Two-for-one special.” “Fun right” I said, trying to add to the conversation because I sensed that the doctor and Sam were giving each other the look.

“He he I’m sorry. Did you find anything?” I asked moving away from my awkward moment. “Not really. I mean, c.o.d. on the women was pretty clear. There was nothing unusual in their systems.” That would make sense. “What about the husbands?” “Can I....see your badges again?” she asked, and we both pull them out again. She gives Sam’s a real good hard look while she barely glances at mine. “There was one thing, um, an anomaly in the blood work. And I remember thinking how strange it was that it showed up in all three of the men.” She said as she pulled out their files. “What showed?” I asked while looking at the file. “Oxytocin. And their levels were crazy high.” “Ahh. Oxytocin?” “Mm-hmm, it's a hormone that's produced during childbirth, lactation and sex.” 

“People call it the love hormone. Um, you know how it feels when you first fall in love. The whole weak in the knees, tattoo you on my chest thing? That's oxytocin. Of course, it eventually fades and then you're stuck with every relationship ever. That and the painful regime of tattoo removal.” I wouldn't know but Sam would. As I looked up from the file Sam and Cara were smiling at each other with that look while they kind of forgot that I was right next to them. Then Dean entered which is good because it was getting awkward for me. “What'd I miss?” “Um Doctor this is our other partner, Agent Murdoch.” I said introducing them. Then Dean went into his Dean flirt mode. “Please, "Agent" sounds so formal. You can call me Dean.” He said holding out his hand and she took his hand and held it for like two seconds and let go. Wow I don't think I have ever seen this before. Usually, women are all over him and even sometimes get mad at me for being next to him. 

“I'm Doctor Roberts.” Then she turned back to Sam. “So, um, can I help you with anything else?” “Uhh, sure, just one more thing. This chemical, this…” “Oxytocin.” “Oxytocin. What would cause those high levels that you found?” “Nothing that I've ever seen.” “OK. That's it. Thanks Doc.” As he finishes, we go to leave the office and Sam stops to tell her. “By the way...try a greasy breakfast. Best thing for a hangover.” Sammy going for it, good for him. “Watch it buddy, I'm the only M.D. here.” She replied back smiling. “Dude, you totally C-blocked me.” Dean told Sam. yeah sure Dean let's go with that.

The three of us are now going to the car. “So Whylie and Snyder totally fessed up, huh?” Sam asked Dean about the others. “One emptied his IRA, the other, his kids' college fund, all on the same day.” Now that's what I call commitment. “Nude girls?” I questioned. “A club called 'The Honey Wagon'.” Very on the nose I see. “These guys have affairs too, with a stripper also known as Jasmine?” “Yes and no. This is where it gets interesting. Each guy hooked up with a different chick.” “So, is there a secret princess stripper operation going on?” “Well, they all described their stripper in the same way, the exact same way. Perfect, and everything that they wanted.” Like build your own sex doll factory. “Yeah, at least until dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives.” Sam said being right and a little bit funny. “You know, it's almost like they were under some kind of love spell.” “Exactly what I was thinking I mean usually girls will just take the money and be happy with that but whatever this is it wants devotion that comes from love and for them that means murdering that woman containing the man's life.” I agreed with Sam. “Sure seems that way.” Dean replied back. “Which caused them to become totally psychotic.” “Absolutely.” 

As we entered the strip club, I felt I had at least a dozen pair of eyes landing on me, half of them wanting to see me up on the stage and the other half seeing if I was here to bust them for cheating. “We’re looking for three girls. Jasmine, Aurora and Ariel.” Dean said to the manager as his eyes wandered to the stage. “You seriously think those names mean anything to me?” He said almost annoyed also he was eyeing me up and down. “One's a redhead about 5'9". The other one's Asian, about…” I said getting his memory going hopefully. “You have any idea how many girls I deal with? Fake names, fake hair, fake…” He said, referring to the chest area. “You gotta have some sort of paperwork. Cheque stubs. Some way to keep track of the strippers.” Dean said to him. “Please, exotic dancers. Independent contractors working for cash. I stay out of their hair, they stay out of what little I have left.” “Sir, three of your customers murdered their wives. You don't think that that's weird? Or at least to raise a little concern.” I said to him. 

“Sweetheart, I think that's super-friggin' weird. But you know what it ain't? My problem. And if it turns out one of my employees is a murderer coordinator, I’ll have a spot open. You could have it, you know, if the FBI doesn't work out. I know it's a lot of work for women.” I almost pulled out my gun right there, but I held myself back and Dean looked the same. “Agent, could you go get us some drinks? I got this.” I said turning to Dean and he gave me a look of are you sure and I looked back, yes. “Sir I am just fine in my job, and I will take on more weight in my life then you will ever do in your long single life. Your workers work hard for themselves, and their families and they deserve respect as does anyone and they aren't just objects that you can talk about so carelessly. Next time you want to make a comment like that in front of me I just want you to remember I have a Glock on my side.” I finished walking away leaving him shocked and a little afraid. I walk over to the boys getting to the table and downing my drink I needed to after dealing with that little gremlin.

“Y/n I think he peed himself a little … good job!” Dean said high fiving me. “Just another day another mean person taken down any luck with Bobby?” I asked Sam. “A little. We officially have a theory.” “What’s that?” Dean and I both ask. “Siren.” Ohh that makes sense. “Like Greek myth siren, the Odessy?” Dean said surprising Sam but not me. I knew Dean was smarter than he let people know. “Hey, I read!” He said offended at Sam's look. “Yeah, actually. But the siren's not actually a myth, it's more of a beautiful creature that preys on men, enticing them with their siren song.” “Let me guess, 'Welcome to the Jungle?' No, no. Warrant's 'Cherry Pie.'” Dean responded. “Ha good one but I think Sam means more of allure like a promise of perfection.” “

So, they shake their thing and the guy's zombie out.” “Basically, yeah. Sirens lived on islands, sailors would chase 'em, completely ignoring the rocky shores...and dash themselves to pieces.” Sam added back in. “Sounds like Adam and his buddies.” Dean said back. “exactly” “Yeah. If you were a siren in '09 looking to ruin a bunch of morons, where would you set up shop?” “So whatever floats the guy's boat, that's what they look like?” Dean said confirming it. “Like Disney princesses” I said back. “Yeah. You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves. You know, like an illusion.” “So, it could all be the same chick? Morphing into, uh, to different dream girls?” “Yeah, actually. Probably. Sirens are usually pretty solitary.” “So, uh how do we kill it?” I ask. “Bobby's working on it. Even if we figure that out…” “How the hell are we gunna find it? It could be anybody.” 

Dean and I were waiting in the motel room for Sam getting info on the new guy and looks like he left his phone. Dean picks it up. “Dean, come on, maybe we should ask him.” “Y/n with everything that has been going on this past year do you think he would tell the truth.” He doesn’t let me answer and dials the number anyway and puts the phone on speaker. “Hey, Sam.....Sam?... You there...?” Guess who was on the other line my best friend Ruby. We both look at each other in disbelief and he quickly hangs up the phone as Sam comes back in. “Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic.” He said walking in the room. “You get in to see him?” Dean asked him, sounding like he was trying not to punch him. “Yep. He brought home a stripper named Belle. Couple hours later he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went MIA.” “Wait, he killed his mom?” “The woman he was closest too.” Then Sams phone rang. “Yeah, you, uh, forgot your cell phone.” I said handing it to him. He gave me weird look. “Hey Bobby.” “Ahhh, no. And, uh, it doesn't seem like she's slowing down any. You got anything?” 

“Hold on a sec, I'll put you on speaker.” He puts the phone on the table for all of us to hear. "It says you need "a bronze dagger, covered in the blood of a sailor, under the spell of the song". “What the hell does that mean?” I ask. “You got me. We're dealing with 3000 years of the telephone game here.” “Best guess?” “Well, the siren's spell ain't got nothing to do with any song. It's most likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in the vic's blood.” “And makes them go all Manchurian Candidate. Uh, what do you think, she infects the men during sex?” I asked. “Maybe.” “Supernatural STD.” “Well, however it happens, once it's done the siren's gotta watch her back. She gets a dose of her own medicine…” “It will kill her.” I said finishing Bobby’s sentence. “Like a snake getting iced by its own venom.” “So, we just gotta find a way to juice one of the OJs in jail?” Dean said thinking it was going to be that easy. “Not that easy. None of those guys are under the spell anymore. Haven't got a clue where you're going to get the blood you need.” Sam looked like he was thinking. “I think I might have an idea.” He said talking about the blood if we could see it and maybe he could see the doctor again. “Be careful. These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit ya.” We left ready to go to the hospital and me wanting to talk to Sam about Ruby before Dean would blow up about it. 

“Dr. Roberts.” Sam said to Cara. “Agent Stiles. Can't stay away, huh?” Yup they are definitely feeling each other out. “Actually, uh, we're here on business. About the blood samples. The ones with the high...you know...oxytocin?” “Do you still have them?” I ask. “Mm-hmm.” “Good, we need them.” Dean replied a little rude there. “What for?” She asked. I was about to answer when this handsome man walked up to us in a suit and tie. “Excuse me, Dr. Roberts?” “Yeah?” “Excuse me, uh, we're a little busy here, buddy.” Dean said, pulling out his FBI badge and then so did the man. “Yeah, so am I, pal.” Oh, shit it was a real agent and a cute one at that. “Doc, can you give us a sec, please?” Sam said to Cara. “Sure.” She said backing away. “What's your name?” Dean asked very rudely you know if you're going to fake being an FBI agent you should probably not be a dick to a real one.

“Nick Munroe. What's yours?” I answered before they started to pull out to measure. “I am special agent Y/n Ross, and these are my partners Sam Stiles, Dean Murdoch.” “Y/n that's a pretty name.” Damn it am I blushing I think I’m blushing. “Thanks, I like yours too” What is going on with me? “What office are you from?” Sam stepped in. “Omaha, Violent Crimes Unit. My SAC sent me down here to see about the murders.” “You?” He asked and felt like he was looking at me when he said it. I felt like I was in middle school again.”D.C. Our Assistant Director assigned us.” Dean answered. “Oh, which AD?” “Mike Kaiser.” “What are your badge numbers?” He asked. “You're kidding, right?” “Dean he's just doing his job here you can call our AD and we can sort this out maybe we can even work together.” I said the words before I could even register them. No, I don't want Nick to be around us to find out that we’re not real FBI agents, but I can't stop talking. 

I handed him the card and he took it out of my hand, but he also grabbed it slowly and I got pulled a little with it. He went over to the corner to call our “AD” aka Bobby cooking. While they both turned to me. “Y/n are you serious right now?”  Sam said to me. I get upset at that. “What you Dean are the only ones allowed to date. Is it because he's a real agent and that he's threatening your power.” I said to them, and they were both shocked I was a little too. “No of course not-” “Good then he can help us and don't worry I won't let him really know what's really going on I'm not Dean of how he bangs a girl for a couple months and then tells the family secret to.” I finished referring to Cassie from a couple years ago who Dean really did love. I knew that was a bitch thing to say but for some reason I didn't really care at that moment. “Y/n -” “I'm sorry, guys.” Nick said, walking back to us. “That's okay Nick you were just doing your job.” I said, smiling softly. As my brothers stood there both were wondering what was going with their sister. “Where are you at with this?” He asked us. 

“Where are you at with this?” Dean asked trying to suss out how much Nick really knew. “Well, I was just about to run the, uh, perps' bloodwork.” I jumped again at the opportunity to talk to him. “We we’re too great minds think alike huh? But it turns out to be a dead end sadly.” “Oh yeah? But get this. I feel like I found something that, uh, connects all the murderers.” “Oh my gosh, that is so smart Nick.” “Thank you Y/n. Get this they were all banging strippers.... from the same club.” “You don't say!” Dean said with a sarcastic undertone. “What do you say we, uh, go down there and check it out?” “YES, I mean yes we definitely should investigate.” I said getting closer to him. “Well, here's the thing, Nick. See, we're kinda lone wolves…” Dean starts to say but Sam stops him. “You know what, that sounds like an excellent idea. Just... just give me a second with my partner and we'll, uh...one sec. Come here.” Sam brings Dean over to the corner. While Nick and I talk.

“Dude, you gotta stay with him.” Dean did not want to do that. “What?” “Keep him outta the way. Also, to keep an eye on Y/n there is something wrong with her.” They both look to Nick and I giggling up a storm and as I kept on touching Nick on the shoulder which if I do like guy, I don't do that. “Yeah, okay what are you going to do?” “I'm gonna do the blood samples.” “What the hell am I supposed to do with him?” “Just take him to the strip club...keep an eye out for the siren. Come on, Dean, just... just focus on the naked girls. You'll forget he's even there! And try to keep Y/n away from him.” Dean thought if I can as he looked over to me just staring at Nick like he was the messiah. 

Dean, Nick and I were back at the strip club and the two men currently are going off on each other of music knowledge. “Nobody's Fault But Mine.” Dean questioned. “Zeppelin recorded it in '75. It was a cover of a Blind Willie Johnson tune.” “Good job Nick” I winked at him and grabbed his hand a bit. “You Shook Me.” Nick questioned back and I answered this one. “'69, debut album, written by Willie Dixon and J.B. Lenoir.” “Nice Y/n, pretty and brains your boyfriend is a lucky man.” He said, staring at me. “Well maybe lucky for you I don't have one.” I said getting closer. Dean saw us getting closer and realized he was dropping the ball on watching me. “You know dude, for a fed you're not a totally dick.” Dean said stopping Nick and I. Nick was confused. "Aren't all of us feds?” He asked. 

The three of us were walking to the car and Nick saw the car. “All right, we're taking my ride, no complaining about the tunes.” Dean said. “No way. You drive an Impala?” I knew Nick was a cool guy and it looks like Dean is about to find out too. “It's a '67, right? It's a 327 four barrel.” wow spot on. “Yeah, actually.” Dean said confirming it surprised that Nick knew about it. “It's a thing of beauty.” When he said that he also looked at me and winked. “How the hell did you talk the Bureau into letting you drive your own wheels? “Maybe because we're fake. But Nick doesn't need to know that.

“Yeah, I know, I just...you know, not a lot of feds are as cool as us, huh?” Smooth Dean smooth. “So, what the hell with this case, man? How does a girl talk four different johns into murder?” Nick asked Dean and not really me. “It's a crazy world.” “I guess. Hey, can I level with you?” He asked. “I found something kinda weird.” “Well. You have bought your weird to the right spot. Lay it on me.” “I went to the crime scene this morning. Saw them bagging this up.” He showed us this evidence bag with flower petals in it. “So, I went back, uh, through all the files. It turns out a flower just like that was found at every crime scene.” It looked familiar. “Like it was left on purpose?” Dean questioned. “You know, sometimes a serial killer will leave an object behind, like a calling card. But with this case? Tell you the truth, I got no idea what's going on.” “I think I might. I've seen a flower like this before.” He said getting up to go into Cara, but I didn't care all I cared about was Nick at that moment. 

“Why don't we get out of here.” Nick said, standing up holding out his hand for me to take. We ended up in this little cafe and we talked fully for those two hours, and he seemed really into the same things I like. He started to lean closer and closer and was looking at my lips, but my nerves got in the way. “Uh sorry Nick I will be right back.” As I walked to the restroom, I did not see his expression change from a smile to an annoyed one. I walked to the restroom and locked it and went to the mirror. “You got this y/n you are amazing.” 

“Y/n? Let's go” “You got this it's just research and plus Nick might need help right Nick?” “Most definitely I could use the help.” I giggled at him again. Dean didn't have time to deal with this.”Alright you know what Y/n meet us at the room in two hours okay.” “Okay” I answered not even looking at him. 

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As I finished my sentence, I saw something I was not expecting. “Cas?’” I turned around to say something instead he came up close and suddenly I was in a random field. “CAS WHAT THE HELL?” I yelled at him. He didn't say anything as he came close and touched my forehead and it was like a fog had lifted. “Oh my gosh what happened to me?” He replied. “You were under a pre love spell.” He said so casually. “A pre-love spell, what does that even mean?” “It means the siren that you were so close to almost had you completely under his control.” “Nick?” I asked and he nodded his head. “That scaly Motherfucker.” “Wait, how did you know?” I asked him. “Were you following me?”  “I was” “Why?” “I sensed you were in trouble.” I couldn't even figure that out because I was covered in that love fog. “Thanks, you really are a guardian angel.” “I was just doing my job.” 

“Yeah, Cas for a job that's pretty amazing. I guess I'm pretty lucky to have an angel as a friend.” I said finishing and smiling. “Friend?” “Well to me you are, you keep saving me and listening to me that's what friends do Cas.” “Right friends” He said and looked happy? “The siren! I have to worn Sam and Dean.” “Send me back.” He hesitated not wanting to send me back to danger, but he knew I would get there one way or another. He came up to me and before holding up his fingers and said, “Just be careful” That made me happy that he cared to tell me that. “Don't worry I always am.” He then put his fingers back on my forehead and I was back at the motel.  

I went straight to our room calling Dean and then Sam because they were not answering. “Dean, pick up your damn phone, the siren is Nick! Be careful.” I walked in the room and as soon as the door closed, I had a pair of arms run into me. “Daaa!” I was struggling to see you had me pinned then I saw Nick walk in front of me. “Y/n where did you go? We were about to get to the fun part of our date.” I looked to the side and just saw Sam standing there. “Sam! Help!” Nick laughs at me. “Ohh Y/n your brothers won't lift a finger unless I tell them to” I then looked behind me and it was Dean who was holding me back. “So, you just come in and home wreck everyone into murdering their loved ones.” “I give those guys what they want. I just lift the blind and give them permission to do what they always wanted to do. And I got what I wanted, your brothers.” “Sam why don't you give your sister a nice punch not on the face though I don't want it too damaged.” Sam walked in front of me and punched me in the stomach as Dean held me.

“Uhhh” I wanted to fall from the impact, but I couldn't. “Your brothers are mine Y/n” “You poisoned them.” “No Y/n I gave them what they wanted as it looks different for each person. What you want no crave is love. I mean I have never seen a person fall harder for me. You must not never have been in love don't worry you will be in a minute. Dean hold her up right and Sam hold her mouth open.” They did without being told twice. I try to fight it but it's impossible because of how strong my brothers were put together. Nick opens his mouth wide and squirts his toxin in mine. I am let go and drop to the ground. “Now why don't we get back to that kiss sweetheart.” Nick said getting closer as I punched him right in his kisser. “You can take that kiss and shove it up your ass sweetheart.” He goes to touch his face and finds blood.

“Okay bitch how did you do that you not human or something?” “As far as I'm concerned One hundred percent.” “Ha okay that was some good entertainment thanks. Boys, why don't you kill her and then you two will fight to the death and whoever wins gets to be with me forever.” Wait what? Oh shit. They start to circle me. “Little Y/n/n the bane of our existence. I mean Sam and I have always had to hold your hand through everything. It's pathetic right Sammy.” “Yeah, Dean I mean we would have such a better life if she wasn't here.” “Then let's take care of her.” Dean said running at me. I dodge it good thing they taught me to fight men two times their size. Somehow, I got knocked out by one of them. “Y/n Y/n!!!” I was being shaken awake. It was Bobby. I was confused. “Bobby what happened?” I said and standing behind Bobby were my two brothers looking Sad.

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It was the next day, and no one was really talking. Bobby came from his car handing us sodas as in telling us he was happy that we were okay well physically. “Thanks, Bobby. You know, if you hadn't shown up when you did…” Sam said not wanting to finish his sentence. “Done the same for me, more than once. Course, you coulda picked up the phone. Only took one call to figure out that Agent Nick Munroe wasn't real.” Yeah, not real neither was he liking me. “You guys gunna be, OK?” I didn't say anything. I was hurt not just from the fight. “Y/n?”

“Mmhh of course always am.” I was lying to myself, and everyone knew it. “See ya.  You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you, that's no reason to feel bad.” He got in his car and drove away wishing I was with him. “You gunna say goodbye to Cara?” Dean asked Sam apparently, they had got into a different type of research. “What's the point?” “Well, look at you. Love 'em and leave 'em.” “Y/n, look, you know we didn't mean the things we said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?” “Yeah, me too.” It was more silence like we knew we were all lying. “'Kay. So... so we're all good?” Sam said, looking at both of us because he and Dean had their own nasty fight. “Yeah, we're good.” Another lie. 

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That was it, I hoped you liked it! Wow this chapter was a lot more intense than my others and we didn't get much Cas because I thought it should be a more sibling relationship chapter, but I still got a scene of him caring and maybe a little jealous because CAS. The name I used for the fake agent's name was ode to Diana Ross like how Sam and Dean do classic singers all the time. I'm trying to progress Y/n’s and Cas’s relationship not too fast and not too slow so hopefully I'm dealing with that okay. I'm so excited we are just getting closer and closer to the season finale which is crazy. As always thank you for reading and the likes. If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, just ask nicely in the commits.

@vfandom hope you liked it!

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 18

Chapter 18: “Prepared”

Why.. why must everyone leave out Ray?? After my boy has done so much for you, ya’ll just don’t wanna include him in your little thoughts, despite saying “them” twice? RUDE, but THEM aka the fullscore TRIO aka Emma, Norman and RAY would not have been sneaking around mom’s secret room the first place.

Hahaa.. oh honey, you got a big storm coming.

Again, they’re damn lucky Phil showed the books to Emma instead of Isabella. Still believe mom would’ve got rid of those books once she realized the different morse codes.

Ray poking fun at Emma will always be one of my favorite things. Shame the anime cut this conversation a bit too short so we never got to see that snarky grin of his.

Say it louder Ray! Not that it really matters, since the possible threat of security in the secret room fell on deaf ears the first time two chapters ago.

The anime definitely handled this one moment better by showing how much lying and not having faith in Don and Gilda really affected Emma, whereas the manga showed her a little angry, which wouldn’t make sense all things considered.

I know Don’s feeling real sad and frustrated right now, but I like to believe he punched Norman for the lies and Ray for keeping the secret this whole time, especially on Conny’s shipment day. Emma is spared of a hard punch because.. main character. Or poor Don gets too emotional to continue. Or because he respects women. Take your pick. (Regardless, random head-canon that Don would make an excellent boxing partner for Barbara once they arrive in the human world.)

Kinda funny (in a sad way) that in the ch13 flashback, Emma stated she wanted to believe in her siblings no matter what, and now she’s sorta getting called out for not doing so? I know there were many reasons for telling them the fake story but sweetie, how could you forget something that’s so near and dear to your heart?

But I love her. I love her so much and how she doesn’t even hesitate to own up to her mistake and apologize to them.

Anyways, I dunno which version of Krone spying on the five I like more? but the manga version sorta takes a bit of the surprise factor away when she confronts the four of them (take a guess on who got left out) in the woods the following day just because you’re already aware she was watching them in this chapter.

The anime keeps us in suspense since we have no idea who is watching them, or some people (aka: me) might not even catch onto it at first. We get Ray looking back towards the house and being suspicious of something but we don’t learn what about until later in the episode. Also, I love how it’s him who realizes this because.. well, he always notices everything. 

The anime kinda threw me through a loop just now as I was trying to confirm some things. When Krone reveals she was spying on them towards the end of ep6, she says: “I saw it. I was watching the whole thing! Talking in the dinning hall last night, all of you!” but they’re clearly outside here in the scene above. I thought the anime’s take didn’t make munch of sense because of how Krone’s comment contradicts with where she saw them talking, but turns out I just had to back up a little bit in the episode. There is a brief moment we see the five kids inside the dinning hall from outside the house which could very well be from her eyes, so her statement is still valid here. (HOWEVER, why are they even outside?? Doesn’t Isabella lock the doors at night? Or is that only during shipments? I’m already forgetting.)

So I essentially rambled on for nothing right there, but what else is new. I also noticed these posts are becoming quite long these past few days and I sorta not really apologize for it. (I say “past few days” but in reality I’ve been writing these out at least five days ahead this entire time so far, hahaa...)

Favorite panel/moment:

*clenching my fist with tears in my eyes* OH so giving head pats to family is definitely a “like mother, like son” kind of gesture huh? Brilliant. I’m gonna go cry about it.