#[Don't know if I need to add that but blurry front whoever is here says we should]

[system-venting]

hey how in the hell do you bring up an issue with the ps when they dont FUCKING LISTEN. theyre so caught up in their own brain they refuse to listen to how we feel about stuff. it feels like its all about them every time. its easier to ask an elephant to knit than to get through to the ps sometimes

oof, I feel you there because we used to have a ps like that-. Depending on if you see them irl or not we've heard of some methods that work so we'll list a few we've heard but also a few we used

If you dont see them irl then maybe voice/video calling will help them understand more since they actually kinda.. see you there. This worked with our ex-ps because for some reason they only understood when we were visibly there.

If you do see them irl then I've heard of a method where there's an object like a feather or stick and only the one holding it should speak until the other person has the object passed to them, it's meant to get the full story from both sides, so maybe you could use that to figure out why they keep doing that?

...I'm out of ideas but I can get mod lemon to give some more in a reblog soon

[tobi-momo]

A Misunderstanding

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort

WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw

WORD COUNT: 3k

A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)

“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.

But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.

“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”

“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-” “But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.

“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.

“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.

“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”

He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.

“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”

He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.

You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?

“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”

“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”

He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.

The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.

He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.

“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”

You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.

~.~.~.~

The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.

Knock knock knock

Was that the door?

Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.

Oh.

“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”

Oh, that bitch.

“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.

“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”

“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”

“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.

“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”

“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”

“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.

“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.

“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.

“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.

What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.

“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.

~.~.~.~

“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.

“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?

“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.

“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”

What? What are you talking about?

“What?”

“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”

This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.

“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.

You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.

“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.

“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.

“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.

You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.

“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.

“Thank you,” he cries.

taglist: @solar3lunar @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @toosharkinternet @hitosushi @alpha3113 @awmahleebkg

haikyuu taglist: @pies-writes-and-more @luvrboykento

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are appreciated :))

[julyarchives]

Thicker Than Blood || (M) || Ch. 01

Growing up in a tough neighborhood had you learning to deal with hard situations, the occasion leads you to cooperate with the mafia organization that took care of your neighborhood - Pentagon. Looking after yourself and valuing your safety brought you to adapt to the moment, but the line between working for them and protecting yourself is very blurry when you are forced to live under their roof.

→ Pairing: Pentagon OT9 x Reader

→ Genre: Smut; Mafia AU.

→ Words:  2.2K

→ Contains: Mentions of Alcohol; Mentions of Violence.

→ A/n: So this is our Pentagon Mafia AU Series! This story will be multi-chaptered and we will add more tags as the story goes on, we have big plans for it! We hope you guys like it and it is worth the wait!

→ Index: 01 • 02 • 03

Chapter 01 - The Collectors

The cute jeans and red t-shirt you wore barely matched the bar you currently were on behind the counter. The place was quite nice but it was still too rustic for your liking, too brown and dark. Usually, the customers were rustic as well, and had a certain grumpiness to them, just like the place. You shrugged for the nth time while lost in thoughts. Working at a bar on a Tuesday night was the perfect situation for boredom, and bored you were.

Thinking back, you barely understood how you got the job anyway, walking in there one day to kick your friend's ass for drinking while you had a job to do with him and the owner liked your style. He needed someone behind the counter, you needed the money, it was perfect. You were rather young and sweet, you knew that often resolving some complicated shit and arguments in the bar but you also knew how to answer when needed and to take no one's shit home, you still stood up for yourself. Ok so maybe working at a bar was the perfect job for you.

Not wanting to dwell on how you wanted a better paid perfect job, you busied yourself by watching the entrance. It was Tuesday, so you've been kind of anxious the whole day waiting for them to show up. You almost gave your excitement away when two figures entered the bar and sat in front of you on the bar stools.

"Hello, boys. The usual?", you asked them with a bright smile.

"Please, Y/N".

"Right away", you chipped as you turned to get them their cold drinks. It'd be funny to see them drink a sweet cocktail instead of anything stronger if you didn't know them a bit better.

Wooseok and Yuto were young. Sweet and awkward boys that most older people liked and wanted to pamper. That's what you heard anyway whenever you spoke to the neighbors. You also knew they were attached to the hip, always together and always messing with each other. They had a third part to their best friend dynamic and you only saw him a few times at the bar, but you knew they clearly loved each other as brothers.

But that information didn't add up to the other information you had on the boys. The reason you expected them every Tuesday was because of their work. And that was what confused you. As every person in the region knew, there was only one force to respect and listen and that was the Pentagon gang. No, not a gang. It was straight down mafia business and these two cute young boys were their collectors. So every Tuesday they went out to collect the fee from every block and at the end, they'd crash at the bar to chat and drink something.

Seeing them every week made you realize how nice they were and quickly put the whole mafia business behind them. You, better than anyone, understood that you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Since then, Wooseok and Yuto became more open with you and always brought back gossip when they had a good day. After all, mafia men were still men. Well, boys.

"Here you go, guys", you placed the drinks down and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Y/N", Yuto had a deep voice and it always managed to startle you.

"So, any gossip?", you chuckled and the boys followed, lowering their heads as if to share a secret with you.

"Guy from the butcher shop was working alone", Wooseok said, "caught his employee with his girl".

"No way!", you truly were shocked at the irrelevant news.

"Yep", he said while Yuto nodded. "Oh, and someone's trying to get inside our territory. We saw a warning at a wall, directed at us and, well, at all of you".

"What?!", you shouted and they looked at you like you just offended their entire family. You were confused. One, why were they telling you information that may be confidential? Two, how could they speak about something dangerous so casually?

"We have orders to let you know, actually", Yuto said as if he was reading your mind. "We know who these people are but not their faces. We thought maybe they'd start by frequenting a place where they can get more intel on our people".

"Here then".

"Hm, yeah", Wooseok nodded. "The warning only said to be careful who is loyal to us or the community would show us. We guess they want to turn people against us"

"More people, more money. An entire neighborhood against us wouldn't be controlled by usual methods. So, that's when you come in".

"If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then no way". You were bold enough to talk back and they only raised their eyebrows at you.

"We only need you to be on the lookout for someone different", Wooseok clarified, "if there's at least one person asking the wrong questions about the community, you gotta let us know".

"Helps if we can identify a face", Yuto shrugged.

"Do I have a say in this?", you already knew the answer.

"As much as you do about our fee, Y/N".

"Fine. But if they come for me, I won't wait for your boys to come to rescue me. I'll bolt", you said with a sigh in defeat.

"You won't be alone", Wooseok said as Yuto typed away on an old phone. "You'll be getting a visit from tomorrow on, he's our shapeshifter, blends in wherever".

"If you have a guy like that, why put me to watch anyone?"

"Y/N", Yuto sighed and looked straight into your eyes. "We could burst into any safe house right now and do whatever we pleased with whoever was in our way. But we do value our community, that's why we got hold of this business in the first place. The bar is where everyone comes for information and you know that. Don't forget why you're behind this counter, to begin with. We need the bartender to do her job and chat with her customers as she does. The info will come to you".

"I-", you were starstruck and kept glancing from Yuto to Wooseok, hands on the counter. "I- this is the most you have spoken to me since we met". It came out accidentally and you wanted to slap yourself.

Wooseok laughed and Yuto smiled at you. You could feel the heat on your cheeks but only nodded to yourself, still processing everything. They finished their drinks in one big gulp and got up, Yuto nodding at you still with a cute smile on his lips, one that didn't match his previous words. Wooseok watched as Yuto walked out of the bar and chuckled at your expression that slowly was turning grumpy.

"I know you'll do just fine. It's not like us to put people in our business but to protect people, we need you", he was leaning forward, as if to make you see him and only him. "So, congratulations, you got promoted!", he laughed.

"Yeah, I'm the lookout kid", you definitely were grumpy now. "You need me to protect people but who protects me?".

"Me", Wooseok said a bit too fast. "I mean, Pentagon does. And you'll have the right company for that, don't worry. He'll be here tomorrow night".

Wooseok smiled at you again and turned away from you, leaving you to your thoughts. Why the hell was this happening? You got why this way was safer to find out who was behind the threat but you still were unsure. Well, it's not like you could say no without a valid reason. And apparently, your safety wasn't one.

You watched Wooseok leave and sighed. Getting their glasses to clean up, you kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong but also all the things that could go right. Part of you wanted to impress them and come out as a hero, it'd give you something else to do instead of just being the bartender. You laughed at the absurdity of it all and quickly shoved it all in the back of your head, deciding to let the future self deal with the situation and this guy who'd meet you tomorrow, slipping back into the boredom of a Tuesday night at the bar once again.

Laying on your bed, your mind raced nonstop and you couldn't sleep no matter how much you tried. Yuto's words kept coming back and you felt even more deflated each time. "Don't forget why you're behind this counter, to begin with". You knew your upbringing was shitty and you had to fend for yourself a long time but you honestly thought that it didn't matter much until now.

Your parents fled when you were eight. They had some issues with themselves and suddenly having a family became too much of a cage for them and they fled. They left you with your grandmother and never came back. Your grandma was a saint, she was sweet and loving but she was sick enough to not be able to work, so you toughen up and started bringing money home by twelve years old.

You smiled thinking about how she raised you with such care and love that you managed to get that trait from her even if the streets treated you like shit. You discovered soon enough that all the love your grandma had was all the love you could get because no one liked a little girl who put her hands on whatever she could find to sell and get hers. You met a few people while you grew up and managed to turn out just fine even if it bruised you more than you liked to admit.

When you were around seventeen your grandma passed, you thankfully blocked whatever memory you had of her suffering and only focused on her happy memories. Since then you got her small and simple house and got more involved in the community, everyone who respected your grandma finally understanding why you were a kid like you were. Fast forward a few years and you got the job at the bar and things got a bit better.

You got up from the bed and scoffed at how things were mostly shoved on your face enough that you had to go with the flow every time. Fucking Pentagon taking over the neighborhood when you were a kid and now this. You heard more than participated in the whole protecting mafia business when you were younger, but the situation wasn't strange to you. Getting around in the streets you knew things and the most important one was to follow the organization's rules.

When you were twelve and started to hit the streets, you knew very well to not mess with the men from the org. But also soon enough you learned that the best way to earn anything good was to be on their good side. So you started to run a few errands for them and earned a good amount. Of course, you had nothing to do with them but still, it was a good connection. You didn't know much about the members in the hierarchy but you were sure that no one from the time you were a kid was still in their ranks.

You were sure mafia business was very harsh and violent but the boss was too violent once upon a time and things got out of hand. The neighborhood they swore to protect was being targeted and they brought the fight to all people. Fortunately, it ended after a few months of much fear and blood around the streets and you heard they all changed members. Rumor had it that it was their kids that took over when the parents died during the more violent times, at least in the high ranks. But you had stopped tending to them a few months before it went down so you had no idea for sure.

You only knew that Pentagon had a hard time getting people's trust again and started a more gentle approach with the community, hence why Wooseok and Yuto were dear to some people under their wings. They went over to everyone who had helped them directly and formally thanked and apologized for their trouble. Of course, they still terrified people who walked out of line and when the community respected them again, it was clear they were in charge. But now it seemed like they only cared about their own business and getting richer with their schemes instead of getting involved in a bloody gun war.

You realized you were standing in the middle of the corridor getting lost in thought and laughed to yourself before finishing the path to the kitchen to get water. The cold water helped you calm down and soon you were too busy sitting on the couch looking for any silly reality show to get lost into.

Halfway through the episode, you felt the sleep taking over you but being comfortable on the couch made you just pull a cover you kept there over you and stayed there, falling asleep in seconds. It was a very rough and long day, so you welcomed the slumber gratefully. Little did you know that while you succumbed to sleep in the living room, your phone buzzed in your bedroom, a small text that should be completely out of line appearing.

We trust you to do this safely but count on me to help. -WS.

[an-abundance-of-castiels]

Best Left Forgotten

Part 14: Please

Series Summary: You wake up in the bunker with a serious head injury and no memory of the last year or the Winchesters and find that Dean is avoiding you. You are determined to find out the truth about what happened but maybe the truth is best left forgotten.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas

Warnings: language, Season 10 Spoilers

Word Count: 1403

General Disclaimer: I do not own the gif or any of the Supernatural properties or characters. This is a fan piece and is intended to be enjoyed only as such.

A/N: This is my first fic so any and all feedback is appreciated! A HUGE thanks to @weirdochick56 for rough beta-ing and encouraging me to pick this up again and give it another try in the first place!

Best Left Forgotten Masterlist

Missed Part 13?

**********

“She didn’t see our face! We don’t have to kill her. Please. We don’t have to.” You hear a young boy begging from down a tunnel. Heaviness presses down all over your body and you begin to feel your body. You blink your eyes open to a blurry image of your lap. Slowly, your hazy mind clears. You notice two things immediately: you’re tied in a chair and you have one hell of a headache. Whoever bashed you in the head earlier is clearly standing in front of you, so you don’t move or look up; maybe your ignorance can save you.

“You’re right Cy. We don’t have to. We get to. Here. When I get back, I want her dead.” You hear retreating footsteps and open your eyes. You frantically assess your options, a strange mix of adrenaline and hunter’s instinct giving you clarity. You have nothing in your pockets. The rope is too tight to escape. You have no hope of fighting back while tied up here. He has a gun.

Escape isn’t an option. The only thing left to do is beg.

You finally look up. The boy is lanky and nerdy looking with glasses. He’s holding a gun and looks awkward with it, like someone handed him a dead animal. He seems afraid of you and is standing terrified, looking from the gun to you.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you blurt out in desperation. You don’t wanna die like this, chained to a chair like a dog.

He stares into your eyes, conflict and fear clouding his eyes. “Ummm… maybe I can untie you? And then you run. Before he gets back, okay?” His eyes look kind, but afraid behind his glasses. He seems sincere. He glances around frantically before he steps to untie you just as a large man rounds the corner.

You recognize him. It’s that Styne man that the boys had in the dungeon. The one who killed Charlie. All fear for your life vanishes as liquid hot hatred burns through your stomach. “YOU FUCKING MURDERER! I’M GONNA-” You scream at the top of your lungs, but the words choke you when Dean rounds the corner with a gun. You feel an instinctive surge of happiness at the sight of his face. He’ll save you and kill this asshole. Your celebration is cut short when you notice the mark glowing and see the glaze over his eyes. What has he done? He’s so pale, like all the blood has been drained from his body. His body and clothes are soaked in blood. How many people has he murdered? Your stomach drops. You gag and tremble.

“Been looking for you.” Dean says glaring at the large man.

“Oh yeah? Why is that? Oh wait. You're not still sore about um, what's her name?” The Styne man waves his arm, brushing it off. Your stomach burns with anger.

“Charlie.” Dean swallows hard at her name. “Her name was Charlie.” His face falls and his eyes dim. You look down in shame. You begin to pray to Cas, something you realize you should have done earlier.

“Yeah, well. Chuckie, she got what she deserved. Wanna know how I did her? It's a kinda funny story—"

“Shut up.”

You silently pray as hard as you can. “Please hurry Cas. I think Dean can be saved. He’s covered in blood, but he’s after Charlie’s killers.”

“Straight to it, then. I respect that. You got lucky before. This time, I'm sporting some new upgrades. See my old man-”

“Your old man's dead.” Dean interrupts. “They're all dead. So, you can save me the speech on the three hearts, the two spleens, the seven nipples, for the ladies... or the fellas, I don't judge. But even with all that, you still only have one brain.” Dean smirks.

“So?”

In one swift motion, Dean draws his gun, shoots the man in the head, and turns his gun on the boy. He throws his arms up and starts to cry.

“No no no no no, don't! Dean, don't!” You scream desperately at Dean, struggling to break the rope.

Dean looks at you blankly and cocks his head, “Why not? He’s one of them.”

“No. No, I'm not! Okay, I hate my family! See, look!” The boy yanks his shirt up desperately, “No stitches! I'm not like them, I promise.”

“Oh, you are like them. There's bad in you. It's in your blood.” Dean insists matter-of-factly. “Now you can deny it and you can run from it all you want, but that bad.... will always win.” The absolute sincerity in his eyes makes your heart stop. He’s given up. How could you ever hope to save him if he’s already given up? And then it dawns on you: he’s going to kill that boy. Your Dean is about to murder an innocent kid. But maybe if you stop him, you can convince him that there’s still hope. This battle for a kid’s life suddenly becomes a battle for Dean’s soul. You continue to struggle with your ties with a renewed desperation. “He was trying to help me. He was going to let me run.” You beg with Dean as you frantically fight the ropes. You have to get to Dean so you can calm him down.

“I'll do anything you want. Okay, please. You don't need to do this” the boy begins to cry. “Please.”

Dean looks down and lowers his gun. He seems in thought. The next few seconds seem to move in slow motion. Several things happen at once:

You finally pull your hands free and yank the rope off of your torso.

Dean looks up at the boy, points his gun at him, and says, “Yeah. I do.”

You lunge at Cy. 

You and Cy come crashing to the ground into a pile of books and at first, you think you got away with it. You smile at him and he looks back at you, horrified. You’re confused, and the world is a little blurry. “What’s wrong?”

Cy points at your shoulder. You reach your left arm round to feel the back of your right shoulder. It comes back bloody. Cy’s eyes grow wide and he frantically tries to pull you toward him.

“What?” You realize your words are slurred. When you don’t budge, he begins to crawl away and trips several times.

You turn to look behind you and see Dean approaching. He seems to be in no hurry and his cold eyes hold no concern for you. It occurs to your foggy mind that this is odd as you are hurriedly bleeding out.

“Why did you do that?” He asks evenly as he points the gun in your face.

You try to slide away and fall over, groaning when you hit your shoulder. “Dean…” is all you can manage to get out.

Suddenly, you see a blur of beige as Dean is tackled out of your view. You hear struggling and your body starts to react on its own, desperately dragging you away from the fight. Something brings you to a halt.

You hear Cas start begging. “Dean stop.”

Dean stands over Cas and continues to hit him. Blood is everywhere, and Cas’s face is almost unrecognizable. You feel a surge of energy. This isn’t like last time. This time it ends in Cas’s death if you don’t do something. You start to frantically drag yourself back, not sure where the sudden energy and clarity came from. You are a couple feet away when Dean takes Cas’s angel blade out and raises it high above his head, pulling Cas up by his tie. Cas grabs Dean’s hand.

“No, Dean. Please.” Cas manages to choke out through the blood.

Dean hesitates a moment with a cold expression on his face. You reach his blood-soaked leg and grab it. “Please, Dean.”

Dean glances down at you coldly and shoves you to the side with his foot. You skid to a halt roughly into a pile of books and photos, finding that whatever propelled you forward before can’t fight the blood loss. You feel like you’re drowning. You’re swimming up and just can’t reach the surface.

Cas looks at you with guilt in his eyes. “I’m sorry I failed you.”

The last thing you see before the darkness overtakes you is Dean begin to bring the angel blade down swiftly into Cas’s chest.

Part 15

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[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things 2 Fanfic

Chapter Two- Part Two

   Phina had barely made it through the day, her mind lost in the endless thoughts. What happened that morning, what had happened with Steve, it was driving her completely mad. She hated him, god damn, she hated him. She hated his caring ways, his gentle touch, his soft voice, she hated the way her stomach flipped when she looked into his sincere eyes. She hated him because he made it hard for her to hate him. It was all so much easier when he was "king Steve" the top asshole of the school, when him and his friends made her life miserable every chance they got. It was much easier.

   Things had changed, it wasn't like that anymore. Now, now she had to hide her feelings, terrified to face them. Because the thing was, she didn't hate him, she couldn't, she hated herself for the things she felt, and it was easier to blame it on him.

   It was easier to say that she hated him, because what she truly felt for him would destroy her sister.

-

   By the time Phina had arrived at the party, it was in full swing. Outside and inside the house, teenagers partied, the music blasting so loud she heard it from down the street.

   As soon as she got to the thick of the clusters of people, she attracted almost every eye. Her outfit probably the most overly dramatic one there.

   She wore a black corseted dress, the top part being a literal corset that was semi-restricting, and showed of her curves, not to mention that it was strapless. The front part of the dress came to her thighs, while the back came all the way to the ground, the fabric lacy and a little sheer. Her makeup was the same as this morning, sharp and deadly. She wore the ruby red Victorian style necklace from this morning, and a matching ruby red ring, and pentagram earrings to add to the witchy factor. The best part of her out fit though, was the wand. It was strapped to her thigh by a thin lace band, ready to be grabbed at any moment.

Almost every eye was on her, even the blurry drunken ones. She made her way to the front door, smirking at ever eye she met. They parted seas for her, probably thinking she was actually a witch, ready to curse them at any moment.

Phina stepped through the front door of the house, again, attracting every eye. She searched the room, for a familiar face, unfortunately finding Steve's first. He stood next to Billy Hargrove, who's eyes roamed her body. Steve's eyes didn't roam, they met hers, and held them. She could see the memory there, the words said this morning, the things they felt.

She tore her gaze from as quickly as possible, this morning didn't happen for as far as she was concerned. Phina found Nancy walking to the kitchen, and she took off towards her. The crowd parting even in the small cramped space, Hawkins Freak, no one was willing to touch her, in fear, in wonder. The party resumed, teens awkwardly dancing to the loud music, drinking whatever could be supplied, kissing whoever the wanted too.

When she got over to the kitchen, she hears Nancy asks someone about the punch.

"Pure fuel, pure fuel!" He yelled, hitting his chest.

Phina pushes the kid away and stands next to her sister, "it's a hangover that you are not prepared for."

"How do you know," she asks, almost innocently.

"I bet you all most half the kids in her have spiked it with something strong from their parents liquor cabinet," Phina laughs, "it'll be enough to make you forget who you are."

"Good," Nancy says, going to grab a cup of it.

She quickly fills up the glass and starts to chug it, and to Phina's relief and dismay, Steve comes to stand next to her.

"Woah woah woah, hey, take it easy. Take it easy," he tries to warn her, "Nance."

She looks at him, almost annoyed, "we're just being stupid teenagers for the night, wasn't that the deal?"

She turns back to the punch bowl and scoops up another drink, again chugging it in seconds. She wipes a little off of her face and walks away, into the crowd of dancing, sweaty, teens, starting to dance.

Phina shakes her head at her little sister, "she's going to regret this."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, leaning forward on the counter to watch Nancy go.

Phina scoops up two cups of punch, handing one of them to Steve, "you look like you need this."

He looks down at it and his eyes travel up her arm and to her face, she looked beautiful, she always did. Oh he was gonna need more than just one cup.

He grabs it from her, "to being stupid teenagers."

She raises her cup, "to being stupid teenagers, cheers."

They tap their cups together, and down them. The bittersweet taste swirling on Phina's tongue, so many different alcohols mixed with the fruit punch. She breathes deeply after she's done, chuckling a little, Steve copying her. A single drop of punch slides down her chin, and he raises his hand to wipe it away. His warm fingers brush across her face, lingering for a moment.

She looks up into his eyes, stupid teenagers indeed. She took a small step away from him, dipping her cup back in the punch, if she wanted to make it through this night, she was going to need a lot of this.

"Lets go find Nancy," she said, and they fell back to reality.

-

They danced in the middle of the living room, having the time of their lives. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and pretending. Nancy was drunk off her ass, Phina was trying her hardest to stay away from Steve, and Steve was, breaking. Yet they put on a facade, a play, Stupid Teenagers.

Phina spun, her hands in the air, laughing as she did. When she stops, she sees Nancy making her way back to the kitchen, Steve following her. Phina groaned, following after him. Nancy was to drunk, at this rate, if she kept drinking, she'd die of alcohol poisoning.

Phina pushes her way through the crowd, well behind the two she chased after. When she gets close, she hears them arguing, and as soon as she breaks through the crowd, the cup of punch they had been fighting over, flies upwards and all the liquid falls on Nancy's front. The entire party yells, and then goes quiet, watching the couple.

Nancy looks down at the front of her white outfit, now stained red, "what the hell?"

She pushes past Steve and makes her way towards the bathroom, Steve watching her go, "Nance."

He follows her, running to catch her, leaving Phina there by herself. She sighs, the night had gone to shy really quick.

"Phina," asks a voice to her right, Jonathan.

She turns to him and smiles, "you came! What about Will?"

"He'll be ok, if Mike's anything like you, he won't let anything happen," Jonathan laughs.

"Yeah, well you're lucky that Mike is exactly like me," Phina sighs, "I'm not so sure that's a good thing."

"What just happened," Jon asks, nodding towards the puddle on the floor.

"Nancy is drunk, wasted," Phina shakes her head, looking down sadly, "Steve was trying to stop her from drowning herself in alcohol, as you can see it didn't go to well."

Jonathan places a hand on her arm, "she'll be ok Phina."

"Yeah," she lets out a pitiful laugh, "she's got Steve to take care of her."

Phina didn't say it, but Jonathan saw right through her, Steve Harrington was the problem here, and Jonathan knew that she didn't know how to handle this.

They hear a door slam upstairs and watch as Steve comes rushing down, going straight towards the door. Phina instantly sees the emotion on his face, in his eyes, despair. Something had happened up there.

"Can you make sure Nancy is ok," Phina asks Jon, looking towards were Steve went to the door.

"Go, I'll get her home," Jonathan tells her.

She thanks him with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before she is rushing after Steve. She pushed her way out the door and almost frantically looking around for Steve. She quickly found him walking to his car, his arms resting on top of his head. Phina walked towards him, carefully.

   He kicked the back tire of his car, angrily yelling.

   "Steve," she asked him quietly.

   He spun around to face her, and she instantly saw the tears tracking down his face. And her heart broke, what had her sister done.

   "Steve," she whispers sadly, "what happened?"

   "She doesn't love me Phina," he stuttered, hardly breathing, "she called it bullshit."

   "She's drunk Steve, she doesn't know what she's saying," she tries to comfort him, stepping closer to him.

   "You're right. If she was sober she wouldn't have said that, she would have just thought it," he breathes, "drunk words are sober thoughts."

   She sighed, "I know Steve, I know, I'm sorry."

   He shakes his head, "don't be."

   "I will be if I want to Harrington," she tells him sternly, "because whether you like it or not I'm sorry."

   He smiles, "you're so passionate about everything you feel."

   "You know that better than anyone Harrington," she jokes, "remember when I hated you?"

   His heart stops, reading into the words more than he probably should have, "when? I thought you still hated me."

   Her head falls, she regretted her words, but there was no going back now.

   "No Harrington, I don't hate you," she shakes her head, looking up at him, "not anymore."

   She felt uneasy, so she reached up to her neck and grabbed her charm. His eyes fall on her hand and light up, the sadness in them lessening. His mind flashes back to what happened in the bathroom, to something that Nancy had said.

"Nance," he whispers.

"Why don't you go find Phina," she slurs, "I know Steve."

   Steve knew what she had meant, Nancy knew what he felt, more than he knew himself. Now, standing in front of Phina, under the moon, the distant sound of partying teens, he realized what he felt, and for the first time, he wasn't scared of it.

-1737 words-

Oh my god that is honestly so cute. I am actually so obsessed with Steve and Phina's relationship and I cannot wait to develop it further. Sorry this update has take so long, a lot of crap has been happening lately and I haven't had the time to write. Anyway, tell me what you guy think of it, and if you have any suggestions feel free to comment them.

-Morgan

[thesolarsystems]

(the oc anon again) Sorry if I'm annoying there are 3 main questions I have. 1. Do you have to get really in depth abt the trauma the character went through I don't wanna make anyone uncomfortable 2. How do relationships work 3. Should assign names to the ocs alters and are there any types of alters most ppl with DID tend to have?

You’re not annoying at all no need to apologize!

1. No you don’t need to go in-depth at all. Just simply addressing the fact that your character went through trauma is enough. If you want to suggest or imply what that was, that’s fine, but you don’t need details. It’s also important to note that because of the way DID works, the person who has gone through trauma will often experience a lot of amnesia surrounding their trauma. So your character might not even know all the details. They might have a general idea of what happened, and know about certain moments, and other moments might be very blurry or completely missing from their memory. And with DID, the initial trauma has to be experienced in childhood before the age of 9, so just consider that when creating your character and their background history.

2. I’m assuming you’re referring to romantic relationships here. It works pretty much like your average relationship would. I know I personally don’t have a ton of experience dating, and when I did, I wasn’t aware that I even had DID. But for me the most important thing is that whoever I’m dating is okay with me being open and honest about my experience with DID, and that they respect me and my alters. The person that your OC is dating or is interested in dating is probably going to encounter not only your OC, but a few of their alters as well. I know that if I were dating someone, I would want to feel comfortable enough around them for my alters to be present in front of them, and I would want them to feel comfortable with my alters. It would be kind of like introducing a boyfriend/girlfriend to one of your long-time friends, except your share a body with that friend.

Now there are some things that some up when dating someone who is part of a DID system. Just because someone is dating the “original” doesn’t necessarily mean that every alter is going to be comfortable with the concept of dating, and if they are, they might have their own boundaries that might have to be understood and respected. One alter might be okay with being touched, and another might hate it. Another thing to consider is that often times, people with DID will have at least one alter who is a child. How would your OC’s significant other act around them if they were their child alter? It’s very important to treat child alters as you would treat actual children because for all intents and purposes, that’s exactly what they are. That’s not to say that the person with DID still can’t spend time with their significant other when they are one of their child alters, but the activities they do should be age appropriate! 

And if any of my followers who have experience dating as a system, please feel free to jump in! 

3. You can give the OCs alters names if you want. All of my alters have names. Not every system gives their alters names, but it can be helpful for us in keeping track of what exactly is going on. Alters can be literally anything. They can be humans, animals, mythical creatures, and sometimes even inanimate objects. Alters come from the minds of children, so they can be incredibly creative.

These are some of the most common types of alters, but this is by no means a complete list:

The “host” is considered the original personality. They are the person who was born into the body, before trauma and the presence of any alters. So in the case of your writing, this would be your OC.

“Littles” are alters that are 7 years old or younger. Littles often hold on to trauma memories because they are often the same or similar age as the host was when they went through their trauma.

“Protectors” are alters who were created to take care of alters who might be more vulnerable. They are often created to be braver or stronger than the host. Protectors can take any form and be any age.

“Persecutors” are alters who will often feel the need to act in a harmful way towards the system, but they are doing it because they think that it is helping in some way. They are often trying to protect the system, but their way of helping often does more harm than good. Sometimes persecutors with engage in self destructive behaviors that the host or other alters normally wouldn’t even consider. Sometimes persecutors can take on the form of the hosts abuser, or take on the role of an abuser within the system, although this is not always the case. Often times they are just misguided, and are trying their best to handle a situation that they do not fully understand.

“Fictional introjects” or “fictives” are alters whose image/personality originally came from an external source of media, like a book, movie, tv show, or video game. Often these are characters that the host really latched on to and looked to for comfort while they were growing up, although sometimes fictives can come from an unexpected source. It’s worth noting that just because someone with DID has a favorite character does not mean that character with become a fictive. I absolutely adored Hermione Granger growing up, and she’s probably one of my all-time favorite characters, but she’s not part of my system, although I do have some other fictives from other stories.

“Animal alters” or “non-human alters” are exactly what they sound like. They’re simply alters that take the form of an animal or creature rather than a human. Animal alters are exclusively animals. Non-human alters can be animals, mythical creatures, supernatural beings, etc. 

There are also some great lists on these sites that have some in-depth analysis of what each alter type is: here and here

Now not every system is going to have every type of alter. Some system only have one or two types, others might have every type on the list. It depends on the individual person and their situation.

If anyone wants to add on, please feel free!