#(some burning homes for added / shared trauma)

[stingslikeabee]

I was drowning in darkness but your touch was the single light that brought me back – a playlist for those who found out that compasses are all broken when home is a person and not a place featuring Melissa (@stingslikeabee) & Sebastian (@antielevator)

Zella Day - Compass / The Civil Wars - Dust to Dust / Os Paralamas do Sucesso - Lanterna dos Afogados / Daft Punk - Something About Us / Gabrielle Aplin - Home / Royal Blood - All We Have Is Now / The Goo Goo Dolls - Slide / Hozier - Francesca / Alice Merton - pick me up / Within Temptation - Mercy Mirror

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shoot (3)

Hi guys!

This is a little longer that what I was thinking, but it's the last part of the Ready, Aim, Shoot 's serie. Thanks to @holly-wallis for her ideas and advice ♥

Please enjoy ♥

I had to repost it, sorry if you already saw it ♥

TW : Blood, trauma, scare, creepy therapist.

PART 1 | PART 2

______________________________________________________________

Blood. There is blood everywhere. The more you look, the more there is. You look at your shaking hands, cover in red too. You don’t know whose blood is it though. The room you are in is only white, adding to the contrast with the blood color. Breathing quickly, you look around and that’s when you finally see her.

Alexia.

Alexia is on her back in the middle of the room, her body surrounded by red too. Panicking, you kneel next to her, shaking her to try to wake her. But she doesn’t. She stays still in your hand, not moving. Not breathing. This is when you scream.

You scream so much that it wakes you up suddenly. Heavily breathing, you sit on your bed, blindly trying to find the button on your bedside lamp. You finally managed to find it, but when you put the light on, Alexia isn’t next to you in your bed.

It’s only when you left your room to look for her that you remember. She’s not here tonight, she’s sleeping in Tenerife, where she played today. Or yesterday, because it’s actually three in the morning. It’s the first time she leaves you alone for all the night since you came back.

Alexia is not here, but it’s your fault really. You assured her that you will be ok, almost pushing her out of your shared flat. She made you swear to call her if you need her, no matter what time it is. She asked Mapi to come to look for you last night, so you watched the game with the blonde before she went home. You fell asleep quickly actually, you were far to imagine a wake up like that.

You should really call her; she will be disappointed with you if she learns the state of panic you are in without calling her. But you hate the idea to wake her up at this time of the night. She played yesterday, she’s coming home today. She needs to rest.

You find refuge on your couch, putting the TV on. But you can’t forget the picture of Alexia and the blood everywhere. You feel like it’s still on your body, no matter how many times you look at your hands to be sure that you don’t have a little red on you. Thirty minutes after you wake up, you decided to go take a shower.

You pass a long time under it, water burning, washing your body again and again. You ignore the scare that your accident left on your body. You hate them. No matter how many times Alexia kissed them, telling you that you are strong and even more beautiful than before.

You feel guilty as hell when you think about your girlfriend. She is amazing with you, so patient and so loving. You don’t feel like you deserve her. You don’t make any progress with your mental health and it’s disturbing. You even think about breaking up with Alexia one time, disgusting by yourself. She deserves so much more than you. But right after, you had a panic attack, because how can you live without her? She’s your whole world.

You are not even strong enough to make the things right for her.

When the feeling of the hot water and the strength with which you rubbed your skin became too much to handle, you stop the water and get out of the shower. This time your skin is red, but you know why.

You pick a hoodie from Alexia and one of her old Barcelona’s short. If you can’t have your girlfriend’s arms, at least you can have her smell. And, after some hesitation, you even take her pillow to go with you to the couch of your living room. You take snack and watch some stupid things on TV while scrolling on your phone.

You are still tired, but you don’t want to take the risk to fall asleep again. You’re terrified to have this dream again. Every time the images came back in your brain, you try to hug Alexia’s pillow harder. It kind of work, but it has nothing to do with Alexia’s comfort.

You fall asleep after 8 o’clock, after your girlfriend told you that they are boarding and that she will be home soon.

You are still asleep when Alexia comes home. She smiles seeing you laying on the couch, cuddle against her pillow, in her clothes. You are watching YouTube now, from her account, and you choose the playlist where she puts all the games she finds interesting. Only putting her suitcase on the ground, she comes to sit next to you, softly stroking your hair.

“Alexia?” you mumble, opening your eyes with difficulty.

“Hi sleepy head”

Her smile is affectionate, and you get up on one elbow to rub your eyes and have a better look at her. Her hairs are down and she seems fine. She seems happy, maybe to see you? The plan was that she takes a taxi with Jana to come back home, Alexia didn’t want you to drive because some noises sometimes make you jump.

“How are you?” Alexia asks softly.

“Can I have a hug?”

She smiles and passes her arms around you to hug you. But you lay on the couch again, taking her with you on it. She giggles and you smile, forgetting for the first time your nightmare.

“I’m glad you’re here” you whisper after some minutes.

“I’m glad to be back to you too.”

You hum, turning a little to pass a leg around her knees and cuddle tighter against her. She’s stroking your back lovingly, sometimes kissing your head. You started to wonder how much mental pressure you are putting on her when she talks again.

“You remember Marta? From the media team?”

“I think I do” you answer, frowning. “Why?”

“She just left for her maternity leave, and she doesn’t know for now if she will come back.”

“Ok?”

You are still frowning when you look at your girlfriend, not understanding where she wants to go. I mean you are happy that people have baby and all. But what does it make a change for you?

It looks like Alexia’s idea was that you apply for the job. You try to escape that idea, not really happy about the idea of meeting tons of people who will know about your story and look at you with pity in their eyes. But Alexia assures you that it won’t happen, adding that you just can go for the interview without saying yes after.

Long story short, you are now sitting on your desk for your first day.

Your job is basically to find idea of activities to anime the games, a little more marketing than journalism to be honest. But it looks fun and like Alexia said before, when Marta will come back, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.

********

“Hi, I’d like a meeting with the new media manager?”

A voice in front of you make you raise your head, even if you recognize it immediately. Alexia is smirking at you from the door of your office, looking like she just finishes her shower. Which she probably did, given the time.

“I’m sorry, but you have to talk to my assistant first, she will give you my time schedule” you smirk back.

Alexia frown slightly, closing the door behind her before coming for you.

“You have an assistant?”

You know that frown and you roll your eyes while standing up to great her like she deserves it.

“Yes, I have” you answer, letting yourself go against her when she takes you in her arms.

She hums, her lips against your hair, trying to look discreetly in the open office by the window. The gesture makes you chuckle and you raise your head to have a better look at her.

“What? I was just looking to know if you knew her, that’s all.”

“Sure, mi Amor.”

She pouts and you kiss it better, just to see the smile she has right after. You weren’t really happy to start to work again to be honest, but you have to admit that it’s a good thing for you to keep your head busy with something. Alexia was right, once again.

“Are you ready to leave? I’m taking you home.”

“I am.”

You take your stuff with you, before letting Alexia passes her arm around your waist to take you with her. You don’t know if it’s only the jealousy talking right now, but you have to admit that she is way more openly affective with you since your accident. Not that you have a problem with it, obviously. But the way her gaze is scanning the room when you left after saying goodbye to your colleagues, it makes you think that there is at least a little part of jealousy in it.

Which is totally stupid, you only see her.

“You seems happier” Alexia says cautiously over her plate that night.

You look at her for some seconds before nodding. You are, but you are scared to mention it in case that it makes your nightmares coming back.

“I am. Thanks to you” you smile softly.

“Are you really? Or are you hiding something from me like when I was away for the game to Tenerife?”

You blush and almost chock on your tomato, but you somehow are able to keep some dignity. You don’t take the time to try to deny her statement though, you know that she knows. Of course she does. She reads you like an open book. Alexia has the decency to not point anything else, waiting patiently for your answer.

“I really am better. You were right, I really needed to get out from here even if it was difficult at first. It’s great to have something to do, not that cooking for you wasn’t entertaining. But going out… It’s great.”

She nods softly, without leaving your face with her eyes. You know immediately that there is something else in her mind, but you don’t push, letting her carry the conversation.

“Do you think I was too suffocating with you? Maybe if I…”

“No!” you cut her after some seconds of incredulity. “Alexia how could you…? Are you joking? You are the reason that I’m still here and mentally good. You are the reason that I keep fighting to be fine again. I couldn’t have done it without you. I forbid you to think of anything like that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s some insecurities and I shouldn’t have told you that” she frowns again, playing with her forks and some pasta left in her plate.

“Alexia, don’t please.”

She looks at you again when you stand up, just to come sit on her lap. She welcomes you by taking you close against her with her arms. You pass your arms around your neck, one of your fingers playing with the baby hair on her neck.

“You are so perfect to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to thank you enough one day for it. You were always right and done nothing wrong all those days. A lot of people would have abandoned, but you are still here with me.”

“I’ll never abandon you” she mumbles, looking right into your eyes.

You can see how much she means those worlds and you have to take all your strength not to start crying like a baby. You’re pretty sure that your eyes are shining from tears but you busy yourself by stroking her cheek tenderly.

“You said one time that my come back is a miracle, do you remember? Well, you are my miracle.” you add, after she nods.

She kisses you and the way she did makes your head turned. She only let you breath for several seconds when you need air, before kissing you again with even more intensity. You had sex again after some weeks of rehab from your part, but not like you did before your departure. And it’s hard to see Alexia restrain her gestures, scared as hell to hurt you. Tonight though, you feel like that maybe it will come back.

********

It came back.

You are laying on your bed, lovingly enveloped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her skin is so soft against yours, your face hiding in her neck. You are lull by Alexia’s deep and slow breathing and you are starting to wonder if she’s falling asleep when she talks quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. Safe. Warm.”

“Perfect” Alexia sighs softly, moving a little to be more comfortable on the mattress.

You look up at her, admiring the shape of her jaw, her perfect nose, her beautiful eyes, and her so kissable lips.

“What?” she asks when she sees you staring.

“Nothing” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes before closing them, tightening you harder against her. You don’t need anything than her body to keep you warm and you love it.

“Would you be angry if I stopped working there?”

The sudden question makes her open her eyes again to look at you. She seems to be thinking for several seconds before answering.

“Of course not. Why do you want to stop anyway? Is someone nasty with you?”

“Not at all” you deny, already imagine her hunting the person who would do that to you. “I was thinking that… maybe I could finish one of my book projects?”

“You mean one of your thousand amazing scenario who are desperately waiting on your computer?”

“Exactly that” you answer, rolling your eyes.

She teased you way to much about it already.

“If it’s what you want, of course I’ll support you. But what about going out to meet people?”

You see the worried already and you answer, kissing her cheek.

“I’ll go write into a Café or something. Maybe seeing people, crowd and streets will help me to get idea.”

********

That’s exactly what you did, after finishing your job with the media. The first days, you weren’t really effective, more focused on what’s going on around you and which story you want to choose. After some debate with yourself and help asking to your mother and Alexia, you choose to mix two stories and start writing again. It made you start from the beginning, but it’s maybe better like this.

You still get to your psychiatrist to your session twice a week, always a little more scared to go without Alexia. Your psychiatrist told both of you that it could be good for you to come without your girlfriend. Alexia accepted immediately, always being interested in everything that can make you feel better. So on Mondays would go without Alexia and on Fridays you go with her.

You always have a strange feeling without Alexia’s halo, and it’s only happened when you come here. You don’t have trouble to go grocery shopping without Alexia or go to the Café to write.

It’s particularly hard to come today, you talked to Alexia by the phone before your appointment to ease your stress. She seems to realize that something is wrong, because she talks a lot about her day. She only does that to change your mind, and you love her for that.

“Good Morning, Y/N.” your therapist greats you.

You great her back and start talking about your new occupation, your activities since the last time and the travel Alexia proposed to you last night. It was something you can’t stop to think about since she mentioned it, eager to go away for some days in the sun with the woman you love.

“Don’t you think it will be too soon?” the doctor asks sceptically, only looking at her notepad.

You are taken aback. You would never have thought that she can be thinking that it’s a bad idea. She never stops to tell you to go ahead and try new things since the beginning.

“Taking a plane, going to an airport, in a place that might remind you of your trauma? What would you do if you have one of your panic attacks there?”

You don’t know what to answer to that. Alexia mentioned Canary Islands and a private hotel with a private beach, which seems far away from the Middle East.

“No, I mean… I’m going better now. And I’ll be with Ale. Everything will be ok.”

She looks at you this time, raising an eyebrow. Her look is sharp, almost mean and you have trouble swallow your saliva. You feel like a schoolgirl getting bullied by her teacher.

“Don’t you think you already lean too much on the poor girl? Maybe she suggests the holidays to have some rest, are you sure she wants you to go with her?”

You don’t really remember the end of the appointment, but it keeps getting worse. And you don’t know how you managed to find yourself in the Barcelona’s facilities either after it. You can’t think straight anymore, it’s like this woman knew all your insecurities and tell you that you are right to have them. One after the other.

What if she’s right? What if Alexia can’t stand your presence, your toxics dreams and mental health? You already knew that you weren’t good enough for her and that she deserved better. You can’t believe that you let her makes you believe that she can love you. How can she? How can anyone?

You were turning around to go home when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N?”

You recognize Mariona through your tears, but you can’t say anything. She doesn’t seem to mind though, carefully taking your arm in her hand.

“What are you doing here? Are you looking for Alexia?”

You try to scream at her to let Alexia alone and not to get you to her, but you can’t. When you don’t say a word, Mariona decides to take you to Alexia. Luckily the Majorcan woman came late today and she knows exactly where to find your girlfriend.

You let Mariona drags you around, hearing her soothing voice without being able to understand what she’s saying. Sweets, encouraging words, for sur. You can’t figure out really what happens next, but after several minutes of walk, you hear Mariona calling your girlfriend’s name. And more seconds after, you are surrounded by her arms, her perfume, everything that is her.

Everything that you don’t deserve.

When Alexia realizes that she’s facing a wall and that you won’t say a word, she takes you home. You are like anesthetized at this point, letting her do what she wants with you. It’s only when you are laying on the bed you retake some reality and stare at Alexia who seems to be choosing clothes to put on you after taking a shower.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

The words were lifeless, but you see Alexia froze. She turns in your direction, with eyes wide and the most chocked face ever.

“What?”

“I’m breaking up with you” you repeat, looking at her straight in her eyes.

A silence pass and you see Alexia watching at you, probably waiting for you to say something else. Maybe to explain yourself, but you don’t say another word. Plus, the reasons are obvious, no?

“Are you- don’t you love me anymore?”

She seems broken. That doesn’t make any sense, she is supposed to be relieved, not sad. You don’t understand her reaction, so you shrug before answering.

“That’s not the point, Alexia. You are free. I’m giving you your liberty back.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Did someone give you something to you?”

She seems angry now, almost shouting with her eyebrows frown. You frown too, because why the hell won’t she understand? You sit in the bed while she’s still standing in front of you.

“No! I just… Why won’t you…”

Why is your brain suddenly transformed in pudding?

You look at Alexia when she comes to you and takes your face between her hands. She does it with so much care that you want to cry again.

“Why don’t you let me break up with you?” you whisper.

“Because I love you. I told you; I’ll fight for us every day if I have to.”

There we are, you are crying again. But this time Alexia is here, she can take you against her, rock you will you cry and whispers sweets nothing in your ears. She waits for your sobbing to stop, holding you tightly. Only when you can breathe normally again, she speaks.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

You don’t know really where to start, so you just shake your head without answering anything. But she waits, again and again. So, after some minutes, you talk too.

“I just want you to be happy. I know you’ll be happier without me.”

“You are wrong.”

Her voice is gentle, but as the same time strong enough to let you know that you don’t have to try to deny it. It’s her truth and that’s enough.

“Well you need to take some time apart from me so it’s not –“

“Where the hell does that idea comes from?”

She’s lost. You were good when you end up your call some hours later. Stressed but good. And then you appeared crying during her training, only to say her when you come home that you want to break up with her. But you frown again, lost too. And tired, to be honest.

“My therapist said that I’m leaning on you too much. And that’s way you wanted to go on holidays without me.”

You explain that like it’s the more logical thing in the world, but for Alexia it doesn’t make any sense. She starts to understand where it comes from however, even if she doesn’t understand why.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, what the point to have holidays if you’re not with me?” she answers, looking right into your eyes. “Did your therapist say other things?”

You nod and start to explain everything happened and everything she told you. The more you talk, the more Alexia seems to be furious. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes are literally throwing lightning and she so tense that you are really concerned that she can have a cramp somewhere. But when she talks to you again, her voice is infinitively soft.

“Nothing of that is true. I love you. I will do everything to help you to make you feel better. I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You look at her, almost desperately. But she has the same gaze that she has when says things like this. Her eyes are soft, caring and so loving that you can’t do otherwise than believe her.

“I don’t feel like I’m better, Ale” you whisper. “I don’t think I will be one day.”

“You are. You are working, you are getting out, you are smiling again. It’s ok to have bad days, like everyone else. Yours are a little more complicated because you had to go through horrible things. But you have the right to not feel good or needing help a little more some days. And what she said was wrong.”

You are lost, honestly. Alexia can see that you are coming back at yourself again though. Like if you are waking up. You seem always a little desperate and she takes you carefully against her. You let her, sighing of relief when you find the comfort of her arms.

“What if she’s right and you haven’t realized for now?”

“She’s wrong. And she will know it.”

You don’t question what she was implying, too tired to realize what her words may imply. You let Alexia taking you in a bath and more generally taking care of you. You look at her through the mirror when she does your hair.

“When I get better, it will be me who will take care of you” you inform her.

She smiles and finish to undo a knot in your hair before answering, looking at you through the mirror too.

“Okay Cariño.”

She’s smiling but doesn’t seem to make fun of you. You relax, letting your shoulder go down a little bit. That’s mean that she really believes that you will be better.

********

Alexia keeps her promise, going to your therapist’s office in the early hours to talk to her. You don’t know what she told her, but now you don’t have to go to your appointments, and you even have a new psychiatrist, advised by someone from Alexia’s staff.

Rumour has it that Alexia’s shouts still resonate in the psychiatrist’s office.

You don’t know if it’s your breakdown of the change of therapist, but some days after this episode, you feel better than ever. You wake up with your head and your body feeling lighter and Alexia is surprised to see you coming in the kitchen when she’s taking her breakfast. Usually, you stay way longer in bed.

“Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.

You nod, rubbing your eyes before coming behind her to pass your arms around her waist.

“Just wanted to be with you a little bit before you leave.”

Alexia hums when you kiss her neck. You can feel a gaze studying you while you are making yourself coffee, before coming to sit next to her.

“Are you sure that you’re ok Cari?” she asks, almost shyly while you stole a strawberry from her bowl.

“I’m sure baby” you smile at her.

Alexia is looking at you suspiciously during several seconds. She red things about people being “high” before getting down and of course she is scared. But you seem really good today and she can’t help but smile when you kiss her cheek.

“Uhu” she said, taping her lips with expectation.

You giggle but kiss her anyway, smiling against her lips. You are still smiling when she strokes your cheek with her fingertips and when she puts her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much” she whispers before kissing you again.

“I love you more” you smiles.

Alexia does no with her head and put a finger on your mouth when you want to talk again.

 “Would you like to come with me to training today?”

You hesitate for several seconds before answering. It’s been a while since you came to see Alexia in training. You can’t remember who you saw some days before, only Mariona. But you hope that they weren’t a lot.

“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Alexia adds after seeing you hesitate.

“No, I want to come. But… Who were here, the other day? You know…”

“Only Mariona. And I’m sure that she doesn’t say anything to anyone.”

You are relieved to learn that, even if you don’t know how Alexia can know.

“Did you treat her?” you smirk.

“No” Alexia laughs. “I know the girl, she’s one of the most loyal, sweet and discreet that I’ve ever met.”

She was right. Mariona didn’t told anyone about what happened and after several minutes you realize that Alexia was right once again. You hug the Majorcan woman a little longer than Alexia’s other teammates when you met them, silently thanking her. She seems to understand because she smiles at you before taping your cheek affectionately.

And today, as you watch Alexia training and laughing on the pitch with the teammates that she considered like her family, you’re starting to have hope again. Alexia was right every time, so maybe she will be right this time again. You will be better.

[snugglyducklingbrewhouse]

we play with fire because we like the way it burns

a mob boss!nico x nurse!fem!reader au

I know this bar

Masterlist

Warnings: this is a mob au, bar, alcohol, underage drinking (Luke specifically and technically reader if her and Luke were in the same orientation group for college), a few swear words/name calling, Jack being bullied, a bet, Luke being bullied, mentions of past relationship trauma but no specifics, I think that’s it

Word count: 2.35k

A/n: I know the poll resulted in me without us, but I had this ready and writers block is kicking my butt. I also really wanted to get something out there after going awol. This is set before Luke, Lilly, and the tree. This is the bar referenced in that installment. I spent forever on this. I wanted to build the world of this au so I added more details. Enjoy!

“Are you sure it’s okay I go to the bar tonight?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time to Luke.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Nico specifically asked me if you would like to come tonight.”

That was the first of you hearing that. Your eyes lit up, but you stayed still, adjusting your clothes and accessories. “Oh? He did?”

You hoped that you didn’t sound as excited as you really were.

Luke gave you a smirk. “And by the way you’re acting, I’d say you’re excited to see him.”

Your cheeks flushed as you turned around and shoved Luke playfully. “Shut up!”

“When will you just admit that you like him?” Luke was annoyed with how much you were acting like a lovesick teenager when he knew Nico felt the same way.

But Nico didn’t know that Luke knew. Jack got a little too drunk at his shared apartment with Luke and let it slip, but Luke made sure not to say that you felt the same way.

“How about when swine take to the sky?” You quipped back, knowing it would take Luke a second to figure that one out.

“Seriously?” He sassed once it clicked in his mind. “Just tell him! Or at least offer him your number. I don’t know how he still doesn’t have it.”

“So I can just be another notch in his belt? No thanks.” You deflected and looked to the floor.

Luke’s face dropped into a gentler expression. “I know the stories, but he is not this renowned player. In the year I’ve been here, I haven’t seen him take a girl home or go home with one. I obviously am not as close to him as Jack, but he does have a softer side. I just haven’t seen more than a glimpse or two.”

You looked up at your best friend with sad eyes. “I’m just a nurse. A nobody. Why would he ever go for someone like me?”

Luke sighed, wishing you could see yourself the way others do. “You are one of the most selfless people I have ever met. I mean, you basically offered to be a nurse for the mob. The mob! You have a heart of gold, and if he doesn’t see it, then someone will come around who will. But I’m telling you, shoot your shot.”

As he was talking, you looked down again and tried not to cry. You knew your self talk could be more positive, but it takes time. And after your bad luck with men in the past, you just were scared of getting hurt again.

“You say I have a heart of gold, but then why do people always leave?” You asked, sick of people leaving you when something new and shiny comes along.

Luke felt his heart breaking. He witnessed your bad past with men through college, and he wished he could do more to help.

You became his best friend and the sister he never had. As much as he definitely intimidated some guys that wanted to ask you out back in school, he knew you deserved the world. And he really hoped that could be Nico despite his reputation and job.

————————————————————————

As you walked into the bar, you felt your nerves reach an all time high. Sure, you’ve met Nico and Jack before, but you were meeting the majority of the mob. You knew that the bar was their official spot and it was mostly just members and their partners who frequented the place.

You felt like an outsider, but it only got worse as you got closer and Luke opened the door.

“You’ll be fine,” Luke said quietly as he held the door open for you and you walked past him.

You appreciated his words, but as soon as you stepped inside, you felt out of place.

Sure, Luke had said you looked perfectly fine, but that didn’t matter once you got inside.

You didn’t know what to do, so you just did your best to keep it low key and follow Luke’s lead.

Someone was already approaching the two of you, and you felt the panic rise.

“Hey Luke, is this her?”

“Yes, this is y/n, my best friend and our new nurse,” Luke introduced you.

“It’s not official,” you corrected.

“It might as well be,” Luke said. “You patched me up and looked at Jack’s hands the other day.”

“Anyway,” you said, subtly gesturing to Luke that you still didn’t know who you were talking to.

“And this is Dawson, definitely one of the friendlier faces around here,” Luke finally introduced the man in front of you.

You definitely agreed with that. While he was attractive, your heart wanted one man at the moment.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended,” Dawson said, then took a sip of his beer. “Don’t just leave her standing here, get her a drink.”

“Let’s go,” Luke said, dragging you to the bar top.

“Nice meeting you,” you said as you walked away. You couldn’t help but be over polite because of your nerves.

Once you arrived at the bar with Luke, he ordered for the both of you. “Whiskey, neat. And a bubblegum cosmotini spritzer.”

The bartender whisked away. And made your drinks.

“Did you seriously order us those drinks?” You asked Luke, knowing he usually went for neither of those.

“Trust me,” he said.

“The last time you said that, I ended up needing stitches,” you reminded him.

“And you have a badass scar because of it,” he tried to lighten the conversation.

Before you could respond, the drinks were placed in front of you.

“One bubblegum cosmotini spritzer for the lady, and a whiskey neat for the gentleman,” the bartender said.

You just looked at Luke, waiting to see what he would say.

Before either of you could say anything, the bartender cracked a smile and said, “I’m just fucking with you, Luke.”

She carefully swapped the glasses around.

“Well played,” you said. “He absolutely does not like whiskey.”

“Oh, I know. Jack made him have it this one time, and Luke’s face was priceless,” she explained.

“The same thing happened in college but with someone else. It was great,” you said.

Luke was annoyed. “Are you two done?”

“Yes,” you said with a smile. “Wishing you had a different drink yet?”

Luke downed his drink. “I’m about to get something else.”

“Oh, I’m y/n, btw,” you said to the bartender.

“Luke’s best friend from college, right?” She asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“He’s definitely whined about wishing you were here more than a few times,” the bartender said, continuing to frustrate Luke.

“I’m taking her away from here,” he said. “You two are mean.”

“You know I love you, Lukey,” you said, not wanting to stop messing with him.

The bartender smiled at the nickname since no one ever calls him that before being pulled to another patron.

“I regret bringing you here,” he grumbled.

“I told you, I would have been fine at home,” you said, despite actually enjoying yourself.

You both turned so your backs were against the bar top, and you scanned the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” Luke asked, knowing damn well you were looking for Nico.

“I’m just observing the crowd,” you claimed, lying through your teeth.

“Okay, sure,” Luke played along. “There’s more people to meet.”

And so, it began. Luke introduced you to pretty much everyone, just to make sure you felt comfortable around them.

It was clear as day to you that these people were a second family to Luke. And you knew your friendship was closer to one between siblings than just friends. So, you felt honored that he was willing to share this part of his life with you.

————————————————————————

At some point, Nico joined the crowd and was talking to Jack while overlooking the bar.

“Looking for someone?” Jack asked, knowing that Nico was definitely looking for you.

Luke had told Jack that you were finally ready to meet the rest of the family. Jack knew he had to keep pushing his boss’s buttons to get him to make a move.

“Just people watching,” Nico replied before taking a sip of his drink.

Jack knew that that was a partial lie, but let it slide.

Suddenly, you and one of the partners were hysterically laughing to the point where most people stopped and turned towards you, even for just a brief moment.

This intrigued Nico, and he definitely wanted to hear your laugh again.

After the laughter died down, Jack spoke up. “Are you sure you’re just people watching? Or are you really watching her?”

Nico sighed, sick of Jack’s shit. “Will you drop it?”

“Not until you make a move,” Jack said, determined to get the two of you together. “At least give her your number. It’s about damn time you manned up and gave it to her.”

Nico took another sip. “I’ll think about it.”

“Mmm hmmm,” Jack hummed, not believing his boss. “Well you better move quick, this is the third time Dawson is talking to her tonight.”

Part of what made Jack such a great second in command was his observant nature. Although, he could be clueless at times. But he knew you well enough and definitely knew the rest of the mob.

Nico clenched his jaw.

He should have known. Dawson could be such a flirt.

Maybe Nico really did need to make a move, and fast.

————————————————————————

If your heart wasn’t set on someone already, you might have thought Dawson was cute, and you might have flirted back.

But your heart belonged to someone else, despite how much you denied it to Luke. And yourself, but you had to fess up eventually.

You already noticed when Nico joined the crowd from his office Luke told you was in the back of the bar. That didn’t mean you had to go talk to him right away. The plan was to keep it low key and hope either the feelings either disappeared or he acted before you had to.

You tried really hard to focus on what Dawson was saying, you really did. But the second Nico arrived, your senses heightened and you became hyper aware of yourself.

“You’re not listening, are you?” Dawson said, finally getting your attention.

“Huh? Sorry. There’s too much noise,” you said, trying to cover for yourself.

“Ignore him,” Luke said. “His whole this is that he craves attention.”

“Hey!” Dawson was offended.

“I have to take her to talk to the boss anyway. They didn’t exactly get to know each other when she patched me up,” Luke explained, guiding you to the one man you dreaded facing because you knew you’d be about as awkward as Princess Ana meeting Hans for the first time.

————————————————————————

Jack nearly choked on his drink when he saw you and Luke walk towards him and Nico.

Nico, on the other hand, took a long sip of his drink to attempt to calm him as you walked over.

“Hey boss, Jack,” Luke said once the two of you arrived in front of Nico and Jack.

Jack nodded and uttered a “hello,” but took another sip of his drink.

Before Luke could say anything, you decided to jump in.

“We never actually officially met,” you said. “I was a little too busy patching up this guy. I’m y/n, which I know you know. But still. Nice to officially meet you.”

“Likewise,” Nico said. “Having a good night so far?”

You were caught off guard, not expecting him to ask that.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, once you recovered. “It’s nice to finally meet everyone. It’s a little overwhelming, but I’m managing.”

“I told you I could take you back home at any point,” Luke reminded you. “You don’t have to stay.”

“It’s okay,” you tried insisting. “You’re having fun. Everyone is having fun. I don’t want to step on any toes. I can just catch an Uber back or something.”

“If you want Luke to stay, I can always take you home,” Nico spoke up.

Both your and Luke’s heads whipped towards Nico. Even Jack looked shocked.

“You don’t have to,” you quickly responded. “I don’t want to impose.”

“I see these guys all the time,” he said. “This was my only drink.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, the nerves setting in more. “Like I said, I can just Uber back. I don’t wanna bother you.”

“It’s okay,” Nico insisted. “Gives us a chance to talk without these two.” He gestured towards Jack and Luke.

You hoped your cheeks didn’t flush as you spoke up. “If you insist.”

“I just need to grab my keys in back,” he said, going to go grab them.

Once he was out of earshot, Luke spoke up first. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know, but you owe me $20,” Jack said.

“You bet on me?” You asked, insulted by Jack.

“Sorta?” Jack said, but it sounded more like a question.

“He bet Nico would make the first move, and I said you’d shut it down and push him away until you felt comfortable enough and finally made a move yourself,” Luke explained.

You couldn’t help but smile at Luke. “I’m glad my best friend knows me well enough to bet on that.”

You then turned to Jack.

“You, on the other hand, are an idiot,” you said.

“What did I do?” Jack said.

“What didn’t you do?” Nico spoke up as he finally rejoined the conversation. “What did I miss?”

“Jack being an idiot, so not much” you said while Jack yelled a “hey” at you.

“Love you too, dumbass.”

“You’re lucky you’re Luke’s best friend,” Jack mumbled.

“I’ll message you when I make it back to mine,” you told Luke. “I will see you in a few days for movie night. Do not drink too much.”

“One more after this, then it’s water,” Luke promised you. “Drive safe.”

You hugged him then followed Nico out the door towards his car.

You just hoped you could make it through the car ride without embarrassing yourself.

[museandwords]

worship in decay ( bucky barnes x reader)

Warnings: female!reader, dubious consent, lots of alcohol consumption, mentions of casual sex, addiction mentions, the avoidance of genuine feelings, foul language, self-destructive behaviors, self-hatred?, self-esteem issues, parent issues, childhood trauma, bucky is no saint, but he tries to be a good boy, mentions of mental health, this will be expanded on per chapter.

Author’s note: this was affectionately nicknamed the hoe fic. i have been working on this for the better part of the past two (three?) months. im still adding, re-writing and editing a lot of the chapters. so far i have 7 chapters planned, though this may change as it's expanding by the second. weekly updates are planned, and to be perfectly honest this is just self-indulged and an ode to the sluts. please validate me, feedback is welcome. also sorry i've been gone for so long (i got married)

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

PROLOGUE 

You don’t know why you do it. 

You suppose you could put the blame on your absent father, or the degradation and restrained hatred your mother held for you. You remember being that small child – begging for their love. 

Now you find it in the hands of strangers. 

Maybe you could blame it on the liquor that burns your throat and melts the ice off your bones and paints the world in some rose-coloured hue.

Or maybe (and this is the part that scares you most) you’re just truly a despicable human being, in which all of the ugly parts of your parents made you whole. 

You try not to think too much about that. So you find comfort in the warmth of bodies, the hunger in kisses, the worship of strange men that bring you closer to God than any religion could. 

At the end of the day; human beings are mammals at their core, it’s a dog eat dog world, and you’re starving.

‿︵‿︵ - - ‿︵‿︵ 

Waking up in the 21st century initially shook Bucky to his core.

American culture had fallen into a frenzy of degeneracy that could’ve made James Buchanan Barnes cry. 

But he wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes anymore, he was something else.

And he was already desensitized to the dread of the world thanks to the recollection of his own mental house of horrors.

He just couldn’t believe there were more people like him.

People who are more desperate, self-serving, and shameless, he notices. He feels right at home with them. 

That debauched urgency to chase a temporary high to replace the self-hatred even just for a little while was something he and these kinds of people shared. Addicts, the depraved, the lost, the broken. 

Let them say Bucky Barnes was their king. 

He's learned quickly that being brainwashed and kept on ice for the past 70 years really took a toll on his libido, go figure. He’s like a damn teenager full of raging hormones wanting to stick his dick in anything that moves. Now all he craves is the warmth of a human, living breathing body beneath him while their essence fills the holes in his soul. 

What surprises him more is that they let him. They let his blood stained hands all over their silken soft skin, they let his rotted essence into their core, infecting them, tainting them, over and over, and they enjoy it.

His teeth graze their neck, and they should be scared that the Winter Solider could rip their throat out in a millisecond.

Instead, they coo and sigh and hold onto him tighter. It's addictive.

He loves them, every single one, for one reason or another. 

This one makes pretty noises in his ear and smells like candy, that one has a beauty mark beneath her left eye and can make him laugh, those other ones look pretty in sundresses and make him breakfast in the morning.  They all give him something, things he never knew he needed. To be adored, taken care of, loved.

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: this will have a three installments // this chapter is just the intro honestly lol so sorry if it’s boring build up // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader goes to confession and her priest is a little mean with his words (at the beginning), slight manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink // masturbation //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter two // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

Every other Sunday was for confession. While other members of the family went on Wednesdays or Saturdays, you always chose Sundays since it would start the week off on a clean slate.

Not that there was much to confess about. Oftentimes, you would walk from your house to the church a few hours after mass ended, maybe feeling a bit guilty about your thoughts, rarely was it ever your actions. One day, you came in to tell the priest about how angry you got at your parents when they grounded you for accidentally falling asleep in church. You didn’t lash out at them, of course; but, you did curse them in your head — not honouring thy father and mother very well.

Then there was an instance three years ago at the homecoming dance. One girl had on the most beautiful baby blue dress you had ever seen, while you were stuck with a hand-me-down gown of the same colour. You prayed aloud that night in front of your bed, that you would one day have the opportunity to wear a dress as nice as hers. But the prayer backfired when your mother overheard, then told you to march to the church the following morning to confess how you broke the tenth commandment of coveting thy neighbour’s goods.

As a whole, you thought there were never any major moments in your life where you sinned gravely. That was until you went to your friend’s house for Bible study on Saturday night. She hosted it weekly, and invited all the kids from school. Needless to say, only a handful of people appeared. Not that it wasn’t fun, the six of you would always spend a few hours going over passages, and then eat a nice dinner afterwards. Truly, you looked forward to it since there weren’t other things you were invited to in town.

So when this past Saturday rolled around where the first epistle to the Corinthians was read, specifically the sixth chapter and eighteenth verse — your group started to analyze it as normal. But, little did you know that this was the day your heart would drop the hardest it ever has.

‘The sexually immoral person sins against their own body,’ the people in the room repeated the verse over and over, like a chant taunting you and your actions.

It was the first time you walked into the confessional on a Sunday afternoon with shaky legs and an intensely beating heart. You told the priest what you told your friend, trying to rid yourself of the sins you unknowingly committed. But he stopped you, his voice only getting louder as he gave you guidance on your next steps. ‘Stop doing that,’ he said, ‘God may not be so quick to forgive you if you give into the Devil’s temptations so often.’ Then after he assigned you a penance of five Hail Marys and going through the rosary twice, you were gone.

All you could think as you took your first steps outside, were words that should never cross your mind. Not now, not ever.

If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?

-:-:-:-:-

As the day ended, and a new week of school began — your guilt never went away. Teasing you from the back of your subconscious as you walked home, ate dinner, and failed at doing some homework that was due a few days later.

It had been three days since the last time you unknowingly sinned, two days since you found out what it was, and one day since the priest’s voice scared you to the point of no return. Everything affected you gravely, that even once you walked into school Monday morning, the noises from the other students became a muffled and chaotic mess in your ears. So much so, that as you were shakily getting things out of your locker, you didn’t even notice movement from the one next to yours.

“You look stressed, sweetheart.” The voice startled you, only amplifying your inner-guilt, since you spent the past few moments focusing on shutting the voices up in your head, rather than greeting your favourite locker neighbour.

But what made you feel guiltiest of all, was that he is the one who inspired these sins of yours.

The throbbing ache between your legs felt good, and the way your pillow helped relieve that ache felt even better. If you were able to feel this level of delight every night, then why not think of someone who made you feel the same way? — the question plagued your mind nightly, during the moments you were oblivious to committing a sin.

Little did you know that it was truly sexual in meaning.

There was only one person who made you feel equally as amazing with their words and actions. Your locker neighbour to the right, Eddie Munson.

Several moments replayed in your head. Like the time he kept calling you ‘pretty girl’ because you decided to wear a skirt on the first day of Spring. Then, you remember how his calloused fingers felt when they were so close to your face after he brushed your hair from your neck; making sure to linger on your sensitive skin before mentioning how beautiful the silver crucifix looked on you. There were so many times after that too. From his deep voice whispering in your ear to ask if you needed a ride home while you both were in study hall; to his arms wrapping a sweater around your shoulders during lunch when the school’s heater broke. The Hawkins townspeople claimed him as a spawn of the Devil, but you named him as the only true friend you had. The only person to make the butterflies in your stomach tingle every time he spoke to you.

“I-I’m not, it’s just I can see now why Mondays aren’t people’s favourite,” you responded, still staring into the vastness of your locker. Thinking about how your start to the week wasn't so great as it usually is.

Eddie had opened the metal door completely, removing the barrier between the two of you. “But, Mondays are always your favourite because you get to see me after a painstakingly long forty-eight hours,” he pouted while trying to get you to giggle at his dramatics.

It worked.

“Well, I normally see you around the fourth period. This is the earliest you’ve been at school for a while.”

“Mondays are the worst because my homeroom teacher loves putting tests at the buttcrack of dawn,” Eddie groaned, while holding up the notes you loaned him at the beginning of the year since you already took the biology course before.

“Well, good luck, I’m gonna go—” no matter how much you loved talking to him, and how warm he made you feel, Eddie was part of your current predicament. So seeing him now made your heart ache in the worst way.

As you went to grab the locker door to close it, Eddie lightly grabbed your wrist. “I saw you leaving the church yesterday. You looked so,” he paused, moving his head downwards to meet you at eye-level, before continuing. “Sad, you looked so sad. I even called out your name a few times so I could give you a ride home, but you kept walking, so I assumed you didn’t hear me.”

So it was the Devil’s spawn shouting your name as you made your way home; not the Devil himself making you feel guilty for your actions. It was just your friend who wanted to look out for you.

Eddie continued: “or maybe you’re ignoring me,” he pouted with feign-sadness.

“Oh, uh-uhm it was just a really tiring day and I guess the voices in my head were too loud,” it was only partially a lie.

“If something’s bothering you—”

“Nothing’s bothering me, honestly,” this one was a lie, and it came out a bit too easily. But all you could focus on now was the feeling of Eddie’s thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin of your wrist.

He looked you up and down suspiciously before saying, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do.”

“So whatever is going through your mind, let me know. Who am I to judge anyways?” He winked before letting go of your wrist.

You nodded, seriously contemplating if you wanted to have a confessional with your little Devil. Just as you stared at him with eyes full of conflict, the bell rang. Instead of responding, you softly said your farewell. “Anyways, see you later during fourth period, if you decide to come again.”

It was the only class Eddie had a perfect attendance score in, but he would never let you know that you’re the reason why.

-:-:-:-:-

By the time English class rolled along, you didn’t realize just how much your body was moving itself robotically. Going through the movements you’ve been so used to doing for the years you’ve been in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, thankfully. First period was a calculus lesson, history happened afterwards with a lecture on the French Revolution, then a substitute showed up for geography during third period so that was a boring class. All throughout those hours, you kept quiet; because the wrath of the Angel on your shoulder, condemning you for your sins, was becoming far too much. To even think about answering questions the teachers asked was mentally exhausting.

It all came to a peak once you sat on your chair for fourth period English — the only class you had with Eddie this semester, and of course, the only class everyone sat at long desks that held two people. As you looked out the window to the dark blue skies of Autumn, your conscience kept telling you to be careful. You were about to sit next to the boy who amplified your senses as you sinned. Goodness knows how he’ll react to the news if you told him.

What would he think if he found out you think about his hands helping guide your hips nightly, or his voice telling you ‘you’re so beautiful’ when you finally find the climax of your relief, or his lips kissing your —

“You’re still so tense,” the voice brought you out of your haze for the second time today. But this time, Eddie’s warm hand was on the top of your left thigh; the set of thighs you unknowingly went from bouncing one second to squeezing together the next.

“Just tired, maybe I’ll nap when I get home,” you sighed. Truly, it has been three days since the bane of your guilt was committed. You could barely sleep now that you’ve stopped doing your nightly routine.

“Take a nap in my van, I have cute pillows in there,” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, then released your thigh to stretch his arms in the air.

Thinking of how your class went to the zoo for a field trip once, and Eddie found the scariest-looking bats cute, you replied sweetly: “your definition of cute is not really the same as mine.”

“But, I think you’re cute, don’t you?” Eddie loved to make you blush with his not-so-suave comments. Said it was practice for whenever he goes to the bars and flirts with girls there. But he never was able to make them flustered in the way you always were.

You saw the teacher walk into class in your peripheral vision, and prayed that would mean you didn’t need to talk to your locker and desk neighbour for the next three quarters of an hour. “I’m not,” you shyly say while looking away from The Dealer completely.

“You’re such a good girl too,” his voice was deeper than normal.

He was wrong. So wrong. The guilt in your heart only deepens as his words echo in your ear, along with the voices of your priest telling you need to repent for your sins. If this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, of course the muse of your sinful thoughts believes you’re a good girl when you aren’t.

“I-I’m—” your words are saved by the bell and your teacher’s voice which booms through the classroom. You thought you were safe, thought that until lunch you could get away with not looking at the boy who makes you unknowingly rub your legs together. But no, the day that was going downhill, just hit rock bottom.

“This class is a bit different, it will be a work period since I’m assigning you a small project due Wednesday. That’s not a lot of time, so today will be a work period then tomorrow we will have a lesson. I hope that you all can get the project finished after school over the next couple days.”

Doing a small project wouldn't be so bad, would it? The curiousity sat in your brain momentarily before your thoughts went haywire. The teacher paired you off, specifically with the people you were sitting next to, where each duo would need to analyze and present a different chapter of The Picture of Dorian Gray. So after a beat of silence once the teacher’s explanation was over, the class erupted in murmured voices and squeaky chairs. But you couldn’t get yourself to move to face your project partner.

“Don’t kill me but, we may need to finish this tonight because tomorrow—”

“You have your g-gig, I remember,” spreading out your time with Eddie would have helped your intensifying sinful thoughts subside. At least until you got over your bad habit. But now, you both had to do this for your grades — mainly his — so there was no time to lose. Maybe this could be a positive distraction.

“How about we work on it today right after school so we can get it over with?” he suggests.

“Alright, I guess skipping band practice one time wouldn’t be so bad,” you start shaking your left leg again. If you were a sinner, why not fall down the path of delinquency — your tendency to accept defeat a little too quickly, and then spiral, was catching up to you now.

Eddie notices, and touches your thigh again to calm you down like he has so many times before, even a few minutes ago. Although now, you move your leg away from his grip. “No, no, no, you go be a good girl and head to band practice, then I’ll pick you up afterwards and we'll run to the library,” he says trying not to sound disappointed that you backed away from his touch.

“I’ll finish probably a little after half-past three today since there’s only one song to practice,” you state while opening the book to the assigned chapter. “What will you do while you wait?”

“Oh, you know, maybe do some buying and selling,” The Dealer says nonchalantly.

“Shopping?” you ask innocently.

“Of sorts,” he mimes the act of smoking a joint in your direction, and you look at him curiously before understanding what he meant. You remember your father telling you it’s not a good idea to be friends with your locker neighbour because he’s a sinner who does the Devil’s drugs.

Guess he rubbed off on you, while you rubbed off on something else.

The pang of guilt hit you again. Like a stab to the heart from God himself. Tonight, you’ll do penance until you sleep, before the Devil on your shoulder tells you to commit your sinfully bad habit again. “R-right,” you say quietly. “Let’s get started then, you have to stay focused, Eddie, do you promise?”

“Pinky promise, my dear,” he grabs your fingers that are so much smaller than his, and hooks his pinky onto yours. “Only if you promise to focus too. You’ve been zoning out all day long. When you walk from class to class it looks like you’re constantly about to puke.”

“I do not,” you say in a defiant whisper.

“So do,” he teases. “Listen, if I promise to stay focused the entire time while we try and finish this project, you’re gonna tell me why you’re acting this way. It’s worrying me.”

You pause, looking at Eddie’s weirdly mischievous eyes as he starts to rub the bottom of your back. “There’s nothing really bothering me, though.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you, pretty girl?” his fingers started circling in a pattern that brought pleasurable shivers up your spine. After years of giving you featherlight touches — because that’s what friends do, he said one day — he knew exactly where to grasp your body to make you relax.

“Let me think about it,” you slightly give in. However, you can’t get yourself to admit, again, how badly you want to confess your sins to the one who inspired them.

He notices how you started to squeeze your thighs together again during this class. “That’s all I ask,” Eddie chuckles before moving his hands to your waist to move your body closer to himself. “Now, don’t kill me again, but I didn’t read the chapter. Or the book, so,” he elongated the last word while looking at you with feign-innocence with his doe eyes and pursed lips.

One thing you unknowingly did admit, was just how easily you were able to fall for his manipulative ways.

-:-:-:-:-

As Eddie waited in his van for you to come out of band practice, all he could think about was how strange you’ve been acting throughout the day. You were always one to talk to him in shy tones as he would talk your ear off in any given conversation. Today was different though, and he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. What hurt him most was when you reacted to his touch by moving your leg away — a move you haven’t done in the years you had gotten used to his touch. Then, you didn’t join him for lunch like you did every Monday and Friday, since the other days you would be asked to join the band or church group tables.

Something was off, and Eddie feels like it has something to with the downcast image of you walking through Hawkins on Sunday afternoon. Today, he was going to figure it out.

Ever since the man found out his locker was next to yours on the first day of Freshman year, The Dealer became obsessed with you. Not that you noticed him often — Eddie was notorious for skipping class so much that even though you went to your locker between every class, you would only see him once a day during that year of high school. However, he definitely noticed you: your shyness, the way you kept your head down as you roamed the hallways to the next period, and how you had a tendency of jumping a little every time you closed your locker and saw him standing there at his.

The small silver crucifix that was dangling on your neck was the icing on the cake for Eddie. Realizing then, that you were an innocent Angel who went to Bible study and mass every week. While he could only ask God why He put him in such a shitty place with even shittier parents.

Your innocence astounded him — like when people would joke around about how you didn’t know what sex was, all you would do is blush; or how one time a Senior basketball player walked up to your locker and invited you on a date. He was infamous for keeping a list of all the girls he took the virginities of, and you were his next target. The only thing you did though, was thank him and tell him that Bible study was scheduled to be a long one this week so you would rather go to that.

Something possessive leaped out of Eddie that day as he overheard the conversation from behind the metal door. He had to have you, had to know what it was like to roam your mind. He would do anything to make sure you were his.

So he did. Slowly, as the days passed, he would start talking to you more, trying to get you out of your little shell. You were so quiet that sometimes he would need to get close to your figure as you spoke — not that he minded of course. Eddie genuinely did love your innocence and how you didn’t even realize that he was being a flirtatious pervert when he complimented you. That every time he mentioned you were wearing something nice that day, he would go home and picture fucking you in only that piece of clothing or jewelry. His favourite, being the image of you wearing only that tiny silver crucifix you both loved so much.

Then there were the touches you had grown accustomed to. Eddie would invite you to sit with him during lunch — where he would lightly touch your fingers as he went to steal a fry off your tray. Afterwards, he would take his perverted compliments further, by straightening out the fabric of your skirt or shirt collar for you even if it just came from the dry cleaners. The Dealer would do anything to have an excuse to caress your skin for one moment.

You had asked him one day when you had visited his home to watch a movie: “you touch me a lot, why?”

“Do you not like it? Sorry, I just really enjoy—” if he wasn’t already worried about the fact that you were in his trailer for the first time, his heart dropped at the thought that you might hate him for his touch.

“No,” you would never want to make Eddie feel guilty for his actions. Youth group lessons taught you better than that, since it was only right to be accepting of everyone. “What I mean is, I don’t see many other friends do that with each other and I feel bad for them.”

It was his turn to be curious now. “What do you mean?”

“Your touches are nice, Eddie, so soft and sweet. I wish that all people would feel as nice as this with their friends too.” Look at you being charitable with your experiences — when these touches were only meant for you.

“That’s what friends do, they find ways to make their friends feel good.”

“Do you want me to do it for you too?” you reach out to touch his shoulder awkwardly, but you weren’t one to enjoy touching other people yourself.

“Not if you don’t want to. You make me feel good by being there for me when I need it. While I do the same for you, when you need someone to support you,” it’s true; even through all his indecent intentions, Eddie truly found an innocent and friendly warmth within himself for you, besides his love of wanting to be more than friends.

You look at him with sweet eyes to innocently ask the next question. “Then may you please rub my back like you do sometimes? It makes my heartbeat calm down and this movie is scary.”

“Of course, Angel,” it was right then, Eddie realized how much he loved it when you were needy.

“I wish I could have you do this whenever my cousins want to watch horror movies with me. Honestly, my parents don’t even know I’m here. But I just like your tou–”

“Tsk tsk, so naughty. Where do they think you are?”

“Am not,” you exclaimed and Eddie could tell your heart was beating a lot faster than before so he started to rub sweet circles on your back. “Plus, they think I’m watching a movie at a friend’s house, just don’t know who. It’s not a lie. I’m still a good girl.”

“Yes, you are,” he proclaimed deeply, realizing his rebel tendencies have inspired you. While you nearly moaned as your heartbeat stabilized, his touch and his voice made you feel so much better.

When Eddie was home alone that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the small whimpers of yours he memorized. If it was the hormones, or your innocent eagerness to be alone with him and let him touch you — he would never know which one he loved more.

Eddie was a sinner, he knew that, and was able to empower himself with the label. No matter how many times people around Hawkins would rebuke him as the Devil, or how often he would get stares from kids at school as he started to talk to you more: none of it phased him. What he loved most about you was how easily your innocence became obliviousness when it came to his sins – that you would hear about them and refuse to believe he was such a bad person because he was always so nice to you. Eddie couldn’t seem to understand why.

What he did understand though, was that his biggest sin was that every damn day of his life he was on the path of no return when it came to wanting to corrupt your virtue. To make all of his fantasies become a reality as he wanted to slowly make you addicted to him.

Did you figure it out? Is that why you were so awkward with him throughout the day? Why did you beg for his familiar touch in his memories, but pull away today?

Eddie’s mind moved at a million miles a minute, unsure of what was going on. But one thing was for sure: he was going to find out exactly what was hurting you, and he was going to do everything in his power to relieve that pain.

A small tap on the driver door window brought him out of his overstimulated thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier, but Eddie was able to hear you before nodding.

He chuckled at your tendency to knock everywhere before you entered. Even with the van, you never approached it first unless he was already in it, or opened the door for you — that was mainly because The Dealer wanted to have some semblance of being a gentleman to you, even if he took that opportunity to touch your back to guide you into your seat.

“So the library?” Eddie asked as he watched you put your bag on the floor and straighten your skirt in the seat, not looking him in the eye as you respond.

“Y-yeah, it probably won’t be crowded since it’s a Monday.”

You were wrong, so wrong. It looks like all of the English teachers assigned similar group projects to their classes, since the library was filled to the brim with students from all grades cooped up at tables. You started to get nervous, the library was going to be your saving grace as you worked on this project.

“Should we go to my place?” He asked while tugging on the strap of your backpack lightly to get your attention.

“No,” you exclaimed a little too loudly, shocking Eddie a bit. “We can j-just go to mine instead.”

If you two finished the tasks at his trailer, then you felt as if it was walking into the Devil’s lair — a place where Eddie sinned like your parents said he did. The memories of the times your friend made you feel warm were enough to commit your treacherous acts; goodness knows how you’ll be when you’re in a room where everything is him.

While bringing the Devil reincarnate into your home wasn’t the best idea, your house had your Bible and other religious paraphernalia to protect you from giving into temptation. But, that’s also the place where you committed your unknowing sin, night after night — you thought.

These conflicting thoughts were about to be the death of you, as long as the annoying throbbing between your legs and Eddie’s teasingly sinister voice didn’t get you first.

-:-:-:-:-

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Epilogue

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd. EPILOGUE! And we're FINALLY HERE! I hope you have enjoyed this as much as I have been writing it! While I will be taking an hiatus for a little bit, I will still welcome outtake & extra ideas for this world.

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @faceless-mirror @missduffsblog @tamtam-elizabeth @witchyweeb34 @tearfallpixie

@wild-child-7747 @shilohrosechicken @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @valiantroeagleangel

@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @miamore0570 @emmmm127

@sunsshinesunny @spicywhenspeaking @dontdiganothergravetoday @chick-from-nz @latenightmusiclover

@anameunmusical

Talia waking up was only the start of her recovery, her injuries had been quite severe from the accident, no, the attempt on her life. Followed by the surgeries that had added to the trauma already done to her body while healing her. It wasn’t easy when it took just as much time for patients to recover from their treatments as it would from the damage itself, not that some would see it that way. Talia had had very distinct views on the matter, assuming thanks to her friendship with Kyle over the years, and during her recovery, Chris and Ricky had heard all about it. 

Not that they had any problem with it. Not one little bit. The fact that she was finally awake, and there with them now to be frustrated with how long it was taking her to be allowed to get back on her feet? Having to be escorted to and from the bathroom for days because she was struggling to walk without aide? Not to mention that was only after she was finally capable of moving that far freely, even with help? No, there were no complaints from either of her soulmates, not when there had been long days when they had wondered if she was going to survive at all, and they were just thankful she was still with them. Listening to her frustrations, it was a blessing. More than once, they had shared knowing little smiles between the two of them during the moments they were spending time together, all three of them. Once or twice she caught them even, Chris had gotten the stuffed rabbit that he’d bought for her as a gift thrown at his head for ‘making fun of her!’

Between her time in the hospital, some time doing at home rehab so she could manage day to day life again. Her work at the tattoo parlour had obviously been delayed until she was stronger and more physically capable, but after everything that had happened, her new boss was more than understanding. He had told her they would work something out. So she was due to start work again in another couple of weeks, on a temporary basis, just to see how well she handled the hours, but she was raring to go. It was driving her to the edge having to wait, but for her health, both physically, mentally, and with Chris and Ricky’s insistence, encouragement, she was being smart and not pushing herself too quickly.

Then came the band.

Motionless In White had previously been scheduled to go on their next tour leg, shortly after the attempt on Talia’s life. Now, her coma not withstanding, if Ricky had tried to leave the state with those questions about her accident hanging over his head, as it were, the police would have likely had something to say about it. Needless to say, they hadn’t gone anywhere, obviously. 

A statement had been released, that there had been a personal emergency for one of the band members and the tour leg would have to be cancelled. It hadn’t taken long at all for photos to hit social media of different band members coming and going from the hospital, and rumours to run rampant. Although they were only that, rumours, after everything about the stalking and soulmates, their fans had supported them unquestionably.

Eventually, one of their fans had discovered the arrest of Grace Adams, for the attempted murder of one Talia Landon, and the fan pages had exploded.

It was right about then that Talia personally was infinitely thankful that she had never taken her social media page off private after all the slander she had received last time. Even if there was a possibility of an out pouring a support, it would have just been far too overwhelming in her state for her to handle so much all at once. What she needed to do was to focus on her health, and her continued recovery. They were getting enough on the band and the guys' personal pages, enough that they shared with her together. 

Now, they were finishing up the new album and Talia was trying to convince them that they could actually reschedule the tour again, that she had another idea. One that she hoped would help encourage them with that. 

Both Chris and Ricky were worried about leaving her at home alone, even if Ava would still be here with her, along with Chris’ family when she needed them. With Talia starting work at the parlour soon again, even only part-time, Ava had started a job at a book store in town no too far from it. It was perfect for her to be able to take her to and from the shop. Talia had not been able to bring herself to get behind the wheel of a car since the incident. 

Her idea, however, which she hoped would help convince them that she would be fine, that they would have the support, and they wouldn’t need to worry about her constantly while they were away? It was to ignore everything that Micah had said, and tell the entire world. He had cautioned them because the scientists would experiment on them… well… Chris, Ricky, they were semi-public figures, they were in magazines, they had akin to a cult following. Both of them had soulmate stalkers because of it, so if they plastered the truth all over their social media, what were the scientists going to do? 

If one of them went missing, they could raise hell and their fans would go nuts, they’d all seen it enough when they thought Grace had been slighted by Talia. Again when they realised what Talia had been going through because of Grace just recently. Talia might be choosing to focus on her recovery, but the relayed unconditional love and support through the boys, and it was appreciated just the same.

Her idea of the video was a risk, a massive risk because it would still be Talia that would be at home, alone, and neither man liked that idea. However, the reality was, none of them wanted to hide the truth forever. Even more, everyone deserved to know that something like this was possible. That the world of soulmates, while it could be strange, and entirely confusing sometimes, that after so much pain, it could also be healing, and become something beautiful to their heart and soul.

Ricky sat by his computer desk, letting his computer play the video on the screen for Chris and Talia as they said beside him, he’d edited the footage they’d taken together. All three of them working together to explain their soulmate bond in their own ways, their experiences with each other concerning their soulmate bond forming, and how they felt about it. It wasn’t just Ricky this time, and it wasn’t just his ordeal with Grace, though that had been involved. They had included their trauma bond, along with Chris, as they had explained how all three of them had become bonded by their trauma in the first place. 

How Talia was traumatised by her biological family, former friends, how it compounded over years, damaging her soulmate bond with Ricky, for no other reason that they didn’t believe her. Ricky had included a cautionary tale in the video, while he didn’t condone encouraging potential obsessive stalkers, obviously, but doing what they did to Talia, is inhumane. 

Now Ricky opened up in more detail about being stalked, manipulated and abused by Grace for years as his fake soulmate before he finally met Talia all these years later, the discovery sending him spiralling. He talked about how he hadn’t reacted well, and it was a struggle for all of them, and he admitted to this.

Ricky remembered talking about this part of the video, thinking about how Talia, had respected his space from the beginning, and he would never forget that. However, in saying that, he also had to accept that thanks to his fucked up mentality, he had screwed up and not respected her space in the beginning like he should have. Ricky was still working on forgiving himself… even if she had forgiven him. 

For the next part of the video, Chris, for the first time publicly, opened up about everything that had happened with his former fiancé, his stalker, and his soulmate. A lot of their fans knew some details, but not everything and certainly not his soulmate. They even included a copy of an image of his old white soulmate tattoo. 

It was at that point, they showed his new tattoo, not just an image, but his actual shoulder, completely bare and close up zoomed in right there and then back out for all to see it was him. Considering Chris was so careful about his shirt, and keeping his soulmate tattoo covered in a shirt or paint, the fact he was showing it now was massive. Especially because just like Ricky and Talia’s very visible neck tattoos, his was the identical rose tattoo now, all three of them matched, the only difference was his placement was the same as his former soulmate tattoo. 

With all of their trauma leading to how they had bonded between them, and how Chris’ tattoo had started changing because of it.

Ricky watched Chris and Talia as they viewed the video, just waiting to see what they thought of the edit, coming to the last scene, he was proud of how they ended it. There had been a few ways they could have done it, but this one really felt right. Talia between them, not uncommon considering how protective they were of her lately, she kicked them both about it, but Ricky couldn’t help it, seeing her so helpless in that hospital bed had been painful. Her taking their hands, and looking at the camera, everyone should be able to love who they love without having to hide, I love my guys, and I am not going to hide.

With that, Ricky and Chris both leaned in and hugged her in a freeze-frame, and the video ended.

“So, what do you think?”

Talia just squealed a little bit as she clasped her hands in front of her, looking over to Chris with a nod, who grinned himself and then they both turned to Rick. Looking at them both expectantly he waited to see what they were doing to say, from their expressions he was expecting good reviews, but they had to say something before he was going to publish it. He was not sending it out to the world without the complete go ahead. 

“Well?”

“It’s perfect!”

Smiling, Ricky opened his arms and Talia was up from her chair, carefully, as much as he knew she wanted to jump up, she was still being careful. The last thing she wanted to do was risk her path back to being able to go back to work soon. Wrapping herself up in his arms, and then behind her Chris had his arms around them both.

“Alright, alright, I can’t publish it if you two won’t let me go!”

Laughing, so they did, and by that night, the video was up on his YouTube channel, along with the official Motionless channel, and linked to Talia’s Instagram page which, she decided to make public again. She made it public, with the acceptance, and agreement, that if it became too much, she’d private it immediately. 

That night, was the night their lives started anew.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 28 Teaser

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC

A/N: Good morning/afternoon friends! Your official chapter 28 teaser is here! I don't have an exact ETA on it yet, but it is nearly done. It's probably going to be another fairly long one. I'm sure you won't mind that though. 😉

This chapter is going to be a lot lighter with some fluff and sexy times. Our sweet Dieter is finally back home with his woman. They have some hiccups to work through, but overall, things are on the upswing. Talia has to put in a little work to get Dieter out of his head... for things. They will have an unexpected visitor that causes a tiny amount of drama.

After this chapter, based on my current outline, we will have one chapter and the epilogue left. I am not emotionally prepared for this, but I am excited for you all to see how the story ends for these two.

👉 In case you missed it, The Knight & His Queen was posted over the holidays. This is a four-part series I completed for the PedroStories Secret Santa event, and it has been posted in its entirety. It's another Dieter Bravo fic where our beloved trash panda takes a dive into the world of mystics, tarot readings, and love. Give it a read. It's fun, fluffy, and fairly angst free.

Now go forth and share your thoughts and predictions based on the mood board for this chapter and the snippet below.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @annieispunk @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @copperhalfcent

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

[mariacallous]

FAR AZA, Israel—There is a pervasive sense in Israel that time stopped on Oct. 7, 2023. Kibbutz Kfar Aza, one of the first places Hamas attacked on that day, is now a closed military zone, frozen in time. A sukkah, or temporary hut erected for the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, which took place the week leading up to Oct. 7, still stands in the yard of one house. In another, a cluster of children’s bikes lean under a tree. 

In the home of Sivan Elkabetz and Naor Hasidim, a young couple in their early 20s, there are still dishes on the drying rack by the kitchen sink. Writing on the wall by the front door, scrawled in the aftermath of the attack, reads “human remains on the sofa.” 

In the days after the attack, in which thousands of militants led and organized by Hamas streamed into Israel at daybreak on Oct. 7, raping, mutilating, and killing some 1,200 people and taking a further 253 hostage, much of the world rallied in support of Israel. Monuments from the Eiffel Tower to the Sydney Opera House were illuminated in the blue and white of the Israeli flag in solidarity with the country.

Eight months later, much of that international outpouring of sympathy has given way to condemnation as Israel has waged an unsparing war in Gaza in a quest to root Hamas out of the coastal territory. 

A little over a mile to the west of Kfar Aza lies Gaza, where Israel is now embroiled in the longest war it has fought since the 1948 Arab-Israeli war. Amid the burned houses of the kibbutz on a recent morning in late May, a black anvil of smoke could be seen hanging over the the Gaza Strip, accompanied by the distant thud of artillery fire.

“If you want to take a metaphor from a different conflict from around the world, Israel started the war as Ukraine, and seven months after, it’s Russia,” Shira Efron, the Israel Policy Forum’s research director, said at an FP Live event last month. 

More than 37,000 Palestinians have been killed, according to Gaza’s Hamas-run health authorities, which do not distinguish between civilians and combatants. Some 8,000 children have been killed, according to data shared by the United Nations—a likely undercount as an untold number remain buried under rubble. 

The International Criminal Court’s chief prosecutor, Karim Khan, has asked the court to issue arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, alongside senior Hamas leaders, accusing them of having committed war crimes, including the use of starvation as a method of warfare. The United Nations has warned that a full-blown famine has taken hold in northern Gaza. 

But although Israel has grown increasingly isolated, the war is viewed in starkly different terms within the country, where many see the campaign in Gaza as one of existential necessity. 

“For us, it’s a ‘never again’ war,” said Avner Golov, the vice president of research and alliances at the Tel Aviv-based think tank MIND Israel. “My generation now faces a question that I never thought I [would] face, and this is whether a Jewish state can exist in the hostile Middle East,” he added. “We need to make sure the answer is yes.”

While global attention has turned to Gaza, Israel is still mired in the trauma of Oct. 7 and the security failures that left thousands of people defenseless in the face of Hamas’s onslaught. There’s a creeping fear that the bloodshed of the attack is being forgotten or even denied. 

“I feel like no one believes us enough,” said Yarden Gonen, whose 23-year-old sister, Romi Gonen, was taken hostage from the Nova Music Festival. In a country of just under 10 million people, almost everyone knows someone who survived, was killed, or was taken hostage. 

Reminders of the 120 hostages who remain in Hamas captivity—only about 80 of whom are thought to still be alive—are omnipresent throughout Israel. Passengers arriving into Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion Airport are confronted with images of the captives on biometric passport scanners, ATMs, and a phalanx of posters that line the ramp down to passport control. The media is filled with an agonizing drip of information about their fates. 

Hamas struck as Israel was embroiled in its most profound political crisis in decades over judicial reform proposals by the Netanyahu government that critics feared would undermine the country’s vaunted independent judiciary. And though Israelis rallied together in the wake of the attack, that did not translate into greater support for Netanyahu, and frustration has only mounted over the government’s failure to secure the hostages’ freedom or present a viable path out of the war.

Shmuel Rosner, a researcher with the Jerusalem-based Jewish People Policy Institute (JPPI) who has been conducting weekly polls of Israeli public opinion, said there was no surge in government approval ratings in the wake of Oct. 7. 

“There was never a case in which a country was attacked by another country or by a terror organization in which the leadership of the country did not get not even one iota of bump in the polls,” he said. 

But when it comes to critiques leveled by the international community, Israelis largely stand united, said Dan Illouz, a member of the country’s parliament, the Knesset, from Netanyahu’s Likud party who sits on the Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee. “On almost all of the issues where the international community is trying to pressure Israel, those issues are not seen as political within Israel,” he said. “There’s tremendous consensus within Israeli society on these issues.”

A Pew Research Center survey conducted in March and early April found that almost 40 percent of Israelis felt that the country’s military response in Gaza had been about right, while just over a third felt that it had not gone far enough. The poll found sharp divides in the way Jewish and Arab Israelis see the war. Almost 75 percent of Arab Israelis, who make up around a fifth of the country’s population, see the war as having gone too far, compared with 4 percent of Jews.

“I just came back from Canada and the U.S., and I saw that even very intelligent people adopted this thing of [the Gaza war being] ‘Netanyahu’s war,’” said Einat Wilf, a former Knesset member who served as a foreign-policy advisor to former Israeli President Shimon Peres during his tenure as vice prime minister. “It is Netanyahu’s bungle—I think he is in large responsible for it being so badly done,” she added. “But the war? It’s the war of our people.”

Part of that disconnect between Israeli and international perceptions of the war has to do with how the war is portrayed in the media. “The media here [in Israel] doesn’t show what’s happening in Gaza the way that other media does,” said Mairav Zonszein, a senior analyst on Israel-Palestine with the International Crisis Group. “Suffering in Gaza is just not a factor in the way this war is being narrated in Israel.”

International media has been awash with harrowing reports from Gaza of doctors performing amputations without anesthetic, of parents writing their children’s names on their bodies for identification in the event they are killed. But although left-leaning Israeli outlets such as Haaretz and +972 have closely scrutinized the conduct of the war and the vast suffering it is causing for the millions of Palestinians living in Gaza, analysts say it has not featured prominently in the mainstream Israeli media.

“Seven months of Israel displacing, shelling, starving, killing, crushing and crowding together about 2 million people—and on the Israeli channels there’s nothing,” Israel lawyer Michael Sfard wrote in an op-ed for Haaretz last month.

Amid international outrage about the death toll in Gaza, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) contends that it has gone to significant lengths to spare civilian life while fighting in exceedingly challenging urban terrain against an adversary that has deliberately entrenched itself among the civilian population. 

“Israelis by and large feel that the world puts too much emphasis on the humanitarian issue in Gaza and does not have proper consideration for the need for Israel to win the war and hence to fight in problematic urban areas,” said Rosner of JPPI. “Israelis feel that the world does not appreciate enough the huge effort that the IDF is making not to harm innocent people, not to hit civilian targets.”

By the end of March, the IDF had dropped more than 9 million leaflets and sent 17 million voice messages warning civilians to evacuate ahead of its operations in Gaza, according to IDF data. “The army, in its very protocols, does much more than what is needed according to international law,” said Illouz, who previously served as a legal advisor to the IDF. 

But longtime observers of the IDF, including some in Israel, counter that the military has, in recent years, loosened its rules of engagement, particularly in the current war. “It was very clear from the beginning that the IDF adopted new rules,” said Yagil Levy, a professor at the Open University of Israel, who said he feared that the campaign was fueled by revenge “in a most severe way” in the wake of the Oct. 7 attack.

Statements made by Israeli officials have also furthered the perception that the country’s political and military leaders don’t see as much of a distinction between Palestinian civilians and militants in Gaza as the rest of the world does.

“Though it is distinguished from the civilian population, Hamas is a Palestinian organization,” said Capt. Adam Ittah, a spokesperson for the Southern District of the IDF’s Home Front Command. “There is collective responsibility once you conduct such a massacre.”

Most controversial has been Israel’s use of hundreds of heavy ordnance in Gaza’s dense urban environments, including 2,000-pound bombs that are capable of killing and severely injuring people within a 1,000-foot radius. 

In the first two weeks of the war, around 90 percent of the munitions Israel dropped in Gaza were satellite-guided bombs of 1,000 to 2,000 pounds, according to a senior U.S. military official cited by the New York Times. 

“Even a 500-pound bomb is too much in a densely populated area,” said Wes Bryant, a retired U.S. Air Force master sergeant who led a U.S. strike cell against the Islamic State in Iraq. “I could tell from the start that Israel, from the government to the IDF, was waging an emotional campaign.”

In early May, the Biden administration paused a shipment of heavy ordnance, including 2,000-pound bombs, to Israel as its troops planned to enter the southern Gaza city of Rafah, where U.S. officials have urged Israel to conduct a more targeted operation than those seen in the early phases of the war. 

The civilian death toll, Israel’s throttling of humanitarian aid, and the killing of aid workers in Israeli strikes have placed enormous strain on Israel’s relationship with its closest partner, the United States, which provides the country with billions of dollars of military aid annually. 

Eleven days after the Hamas attack, Biden touched down in Israel for an extraordinary wartime visit. In an emotionally charged speech, he drew on the Hebrew Bible, his decades in office, and his own experiences with grief. “As long as the United States stands—and we will stand forever—we will not let you ever be alone,” he said.

His remarks also contained a word of caution, based on the United States’ own bitter experiences of going to war in the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. “While you feel that rage, don’t be consumed by it,” he said. 

Biden referred back to this warning in an interview with Time magazine published last week. “They’re making that mistake,” he said.

[spiritsong]

Rules: make your ships in this adorable picrew, then give me their song. Tag some friends to share too!

Thank you for tagging me @dolceaspidenera and @justabiteofspite <3 Now to be completely honest I was quietly playing around with this picrew a few days ago so I already have the images ready to share 😂

I wouldn't be me if I didn't make a tag game way longer than it needs to be, especially by adding lyrics no one asked for 😌 Brace yourself because I'm feeling chatty tonight ~

1st and 2nd. Astarion & tav!Aune / Astarion & durge!Aune

believe it or not I did not mirror them on purpose, so it's fun it came out that way! also, let me tell you that it was a monumental task to pick ONE song each but I did it!!!

I'm guessing The Wisp Sings might be a common ship song? but it's too perfect for them idc!! I don't think I've properly talked about this, but Aune has Living Weapon Trauma™ as a result of 1) being born of a ritual intended to produce a Living Weapon, and 2) being a Sword-Dancer who is lost and shapes her grief into a weapon of rage in order to cope with Too Big Feelings™. Much of Astarion and Aune's relationship revolves around reconciling what other people have forced them to be vs. flailing in the wild with all their freedom (being messy, reconnecting with their respective stolen childhood/time/mortality, being self-sacrificing vs self-serving, etc.). ALSO much of their tender moments revolve around Aune's bardic aspects so [how I sing you like a song] is extra fitting.

Not much to say on Landscape (Demo) besides the fact that it blew my mind when I listened to it with Durge on the brain. IT'S PERFECT

Astarion x tav!Aune: The Wisp Sings by Winter Aid And how they hold you like a gun / And how I sing you like a song / I heard when I was young / Buried for a night like this Astarion x durge!Aune: Landscape (Demo) by Florence + The Machine She wants the silence, but fears the solitude / She wants to be alone and together with you /// Because it's burning through the bloodline / It's cutting down the family tree / Growing in the landscape, darling, in between you and me

3rd and 4th. Imyrr x tav!Aune / Gortash x embrace!Aun

aka the tragic ships! I haven't done a proper introduction of Imyrr (they/them); they are a fellow Eilistraeean cleric who Aune ended up falling in love with, despite being severely put off by everything about them at first. Imyrr is the reason why Aune was able to feel a bit more secure/confident in her place amongst the Church. Conversely, when Imyrr suffers a violent & tragic death, they are also the reason Aune feels immediately adrift and unmoored. Imyrr is essentially the ghost that haunts Aune's narrative.

The Woods is a song that I had chosen for Gortash and Aun a long time ago, even back when I wasn't sure about the specifics of their story. Even now, it isn't a perfect fit. The narrator in the song is a young innocent boy; though Gortash is young when he first meets Aun, he certainly isn't innocent (and neither is she). But the reason it sticks with me is because the song speaks about a pair of children/friends/lovers who engage in some dark, esoteric ritual/play together [You and I were in the mud, paint ourselves with spider's blood], and come out the other side changed [Two went in and one came home, We didn't go in there alone]. There's a bit at the end that says [The nights are lovely, dark and deep, But I'll appear when you're asleep, You'll wake up with a sudden hurt, Mouth and nose all full of dirt] which seems very fitting for Durgetash; your Person is someone you wholeheartedly trust and distrust. The promise of death is ever present in this relationship.

Imyrr x tav!Aune: Absence by Rio Romeo If I just vanished / Do you think you'd manage / Or would you disappear right beside me? / Do you think you're ready / When I go unsteady? / Lover, please prepare for my absence Gortash x embrace!Aun: The Woods by San Fermin Your eyes were lovely, dark and dense / Pulling legs off salamanders / A little creature you unspun / The skin and bones and brains and blood

5th and 6th. Gale x Lethe / Alistair x Eleneva

Is it any surprise First Time is on the Gale x Lethe playlist considering Hozier name dropped Lethe in it [And the first time that you kissed me, I drank dry the River Lethe]? The mythological river plays a role in Lethe's backstory so I was very excited about it, obviously. The fact that the start of the first verse [Remember once I told you about, How before I heard it from your mouth, My name would always hit my ears as such an awful sound?] is a great reflection of Gale's struggle with accepting himself as Gale Dekarios vs. trying to embody the archetype of the legendary Chosen of Mystra and powerful Archmage, Gale of Waterdeep.

BAM surprise Dragon Age ship because they are on my mind. I had to include Be because DUDE WTF Hozier was absolutely definitely FOR SURE writing about Alistair Dragon Age and his rose growing in a Blighted land. Anyway right at the finish line I'm failing my one-song-per-ship rule because I also wanted to mention Daylily by Movements. My Alistair x Eleneva playlist is filled with cute poppy songs because I think it's fitting for such a young couple 😭 Plus, Daylily's pre-chorus goes [Outside for the first time in a long time, You said you can't remember what its like, To feel more than cold on the inside, But the sunrise will come again] which is THE quintessential ex-Kinloch Hold mage experience, isn't it.

Gale x Lethe: First Time by Hozier Some part of me must have died / The first time that you called me "baby" / And some part of me came alive / The first time that you called me "baby" Alistair x Eleneva: Be by Hozier Or be like the rose that you hold in your hand / That will grow bold in a barren and desolate land

YOU MADE IT TO THE END YAAAAY !!! thank you for indulging me <3

tagging @dragon--sage @thehightiefling @birb--birb

@witch-from-a-block-of-flats @bhaalsdeepbat @anderstrevelyan

would love to see y'all do this (if you haven't already/if you want, of course)! 🥰

[bradshawed]

lovebug x / moots only! send this + a character and i’ll give you headcannons on what your life would be like.

okay, imma say mitch app purely because I saw him on the list and went grrrr

join the party!

mitch will forever make me go grrr and shhh don’t tell anyone but that might have been the sole reason i added him onto list, he’s just so 😫

this might not be accurate at all or i might be a mind reader but i hope you life it and thank you for requesting xx

• mitch would burn the world for you if you asked. if anyone so much as gives you the wrong look..they’re dead. he loves you, all of you and would do anything for you. that man is down bad like so so bad

• i see you guys seeing each other for the first time at the beach. neither of you are looking for anyone and he’s more focused on getting closure in a sense after all the trauma and everything that happened that last time around and you’re just enjoying the summer weather, wanting to get out of the house for once, finishing the book you’re reading but he sees you. he wouldn’t be able to miss you to save his life and he’s hooked but he restrains himself because with his life, no one needs his baggage and you deserve more than a one night stand

• but then he sees you again and again, and this time it’s at the library and sure maybe he’s a little suspicious, a tad too overly cautious because in his work he has to be and he’s been hurt..bad. he’s grabbing some books on some new language or something and you’re browsing the isles, paying no mind to him.

• it takes a couple more times for him to gather the courage but he says hi and it goes from there

• he’s be so patient with you and so incredibly understanding, just like you are with him *soft!mitch soft!mitch soft!mitch* it takes time but you do both get there and then you’re both falling hard

• he doesn’t tell you about his job right away and it does cause a few minor bumps in the road but you’re worried and it’s not fun having the person you love disappear for months at a time, returning with bruises and broken bones. your relationship was built on trust and honesty, and you both sit down on the kitchen table when you couldn’t sleep and talk it through

• stan being stan. disproving, distrusting stan but also grateful stan when he meets you and realises you’re the one keeping mitch in check and the reason he’s being a lot less reckless lately (stan loves you after that and thanks you privately once you both have a talk and come to an understanding and you share some of your recipes and baked goods with him)

• baking at two in the morning when neither of you can sleep. mitch coming home to the house smelling like a bakery. having to eat sourdough bread for two weeks straight because you finally cracked the secret code

• protective!mitch. that’s all i have to say about that. but also you cleaning his wounds and making sure he changes his dressings and follows the doc’s instructions

• you remind him of home and make him feel safe. no one’s ever made him feel like that before and he’s forever grateful that it’s you

• he’d voice how much he loves you a lot because he’s scared of losing you when you’re both together for about the time that he was with katrina and when you pass the stage and keep going and doing things he didn’t get to with her, he realises it’s okay

[thebeckster]

Here's a little surprise something for WIP Wednesday!

Worked on some long-neglected fics for the first time in ages.

I was having decision paralysis and decided to let a dice roll tell me which WIP to work on and I'd give that work 30 solid minutes of effort writing. Did it twice with mixed results. First WIP I did less writing and more reading everything I've done so far and made minor edits (It's a story I have not posted yet so the pressure to write was low)

The second time was Stranded (my Lulukoko trio shared childhood trauma fic) and I added a solid 1k words. So have a little look!

A ship didn’t come the next day. Nor the day after that. For a week the children watched the horizon anxiously for any sign of rescue. A slight disruption on the flat horizon, the glint of sun off metal, the distant sounding of a ship’s horn in the dark of the night. Nothing. It was like they were alone in the world. Humanity had vanished, leaving the three of them stranded on a deserted island, far from home, and with no sure way to get back. They had kept the signal fire burning constantly, feeding it properly to produce a thick column of smoke that rose high into the sky. On clear days it could be seen for miles. The fact that nobody had come to investigate yet only proved to the children they were very far from home. Still, they could not give up on hope. Someone had been here before, settled and then abandoned the island. It wasn’t undiscovered. Just forgotten. These waters were rich with shipping lanes. There was a decent chance that at some point a ship would come close enough. They just had to wait.

[samethyst01]

A Mother's Love: Chapter Five

“Mom, why can’t I go explore right away?”

“Coraline, we need time to get settled. It’s a new start for us, and it’s going to be a little tough to acclimatise.”

“Why don’t you come help me set up my work things in the study?”

“Okay…”

Like a jolt of electricity, the memories from thirteen years ago flooded into Coraline the moment she touched the wall. Every step taken was another look into the past, every surface a sudden burst of emotions and nostalgia. There was that carpet that refused to stay flat, the leaky boiler room with mysteriously labelled switches, the damp on the walls, the mould in the corner of the ceiling. Around the corner was her father’s office, still dreary and drab, though with a considerable upgrade to both its hardware and its software.

The kitchen was the same too, and she could smell the distinct aroma of cooked meat from the oven. Lunch was on the way. Upstairs, the bathroom was far cleaner than the insect-swarmed days of old, new tiles added to the walls and an updated shower curtain with pink and yellow floral patterns. Coraline turned the tap and out poured crystal clear water. Her parents’ bedroom was quite similar to how it used to be, plain duvet covers and plain curtains and the same framed pictures of the three of them together on vacation. It was a comforting familiarity.

Coraline’s father had helped bring her luggage up into her room, and the two had shared an awkward hug before he excused himself downstairs, giving her some time to adjust. The place hadn’t changed much since she left, all her toys and stuffed animals still hibernating in the large trunk, the picture of her and her school friends back in Pontiac still resting face-up on her bedside table. There were a couple posters she had added in the preceding years after moving in, mostly Adventure Time and Avatar: The Last Airbender. She ran a finger across them and felt like a kid again.

After unpacking, she collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling. She was surprised not to feel so afraid of her home, the core of her trauma, but her motivation to kill that which haunted her overshadowed her fear of it. At least, it did for the moment. She turned onto her side and for a brief moment, so brief she must’ve imagined it, she swore she could’ve seen that damn little doll again. Her eyes refocused and that horrible flash of yellow and blue was gone.

She growled softly to herself, frustrated with these apparent visions. She needed to be absolutely centred for her plan to work, a plan that had barely even come to fruition in her mind. Getting to Ashland was the first hurdle, and she had managed that. And then… she shuddered at what she had to do next. Next, she had to open that door. The door in the living room, once hidden before being unlocked by her younger, more naïve self. She had no key, having tossed it down the well, so she would have to improvise.

After that… what then? If she could somehow reopen the portal, would that give the Beldam exactly what she wanted? Would it give her a way to escape the Other World, or perhaps just a path straight to Coraline, the unfinished meal she had let slip from her grasp thirteen years ago? Regardless, opening that door would also reopen all the horrors Coraline had tried to bury, and once and for all, she would have to end the Beldam’s story. She had never killed before, not that the witch was any more human than an insect, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy.

The Beldam might not have been at her strongest, but that guaranteed nothing. Even in her weakened, arachnid form, she was still otherworldly, horrific, and entirely twisted by the fabric of the Other World. Whatever monster she was, wherever she came from, and whomever she had been before it all, it was imperative she died before Coraline left Ashland, and stayed dead. She would have to make sure of it, burn the body if she had to, douse it in holy water, gather every priest in the country to exorcise it of evil and confirm, absolutely, that the Beldam was nothing more than a husk.

After staring at the ceiling for what felt like an hour, Coraline sat up and changed into some more comfortable clothes. They were more suited to her younger self, fit for treacherous gardening and exploration into the unknown. She headed for the door and looked back at all her things, many of them still inside the big chest in the corner. She raised her finger.

“If I see any of you turn into buttons… there’s going to be trouble.”

******

A friend at college had once told Coraline that chicken was as bad for her as red meat, because of the conditions most chickens are subjected to in battery farms. She argued that the trauma they suffered directly linked to their quality after death, which was pretty odd, since battery farmed chicken was likely to be processed anyway. Coraline always found that girl so strange, even considering all the bizarre events of her own life, and she would always remember her, even after graduating.

The thought popped into her head when her mother laid out the meal before her, roast chicken and potatoes, with vegetables straight from the garden and homemade gravy. It looked positively divine, and was a far cry from the less than appetising meals she received back in the day.

“She wouldn’t let me make something.”

Her father chuckled as he adjusted his glasses and sat down. Coraline smiled, and studied the man for a moment. There was something about him that seemed slightly off. He hadn’t aged a day, his complexion still the same pasty grey, his glasses a little lopsided, his hair messy, still wearing one of his Michigan jerseys. It had been six years and he hadn’t grown any older. He looked far more tired, for sure, but that meant relatively little when compared to his physical appearance. It was like time had stopped around the Pink Palace.

“I wanted to treat Coraline, not torture her!”

Her mother sat down opposite them. She, too, appeared to have stayed the same. Obviously she wasn’t wearing her neck brace anymore – that came off when her injury had healed – but she was still wearing the same knitted sweater, with bags under her eyes and slightly greasy hair. Their perfect agelessness was unsettling, in a way, as if the house and maybe all of Ashland was in stasis. Coraline was the only one who had changed. Was it because she was the only one who left?

“This is perfect, you guys… thank you.”

“It’s been so long since we last saw you. You didn’t even call.”

Her father poured himself a glass of water, and a twinge of guilt spread through her body. She hadn’t called. Why hadn’t she called? Six years had gone by and not even once had she made the effort. Why? She must’ve tried, at least once, surely… so why couldn’t she remember? Her mother didn’t say anything, just picked up her cutlery and began to eat. Coraline sighed exasperatedly.

“It’s complicated, dad.”

“Complicated how? I mean, come on, I can understand a call once every couple weeks, a month at most, but six years? The only reason we knew you were still alive was because Wybie at least had the decency to talk to us!”

There was a tense silence around the table for a few moments. Coraline’s mother, usually the more outspoken of her parents, was silently staring at her plate as she ate from it. Her father’s face was twisted in confusion and dismay, as if the answers he so desperately needed were just always out of reach. Coraline mustered up her courage before facing the truth.

“I’m sorry… I really should’ve called, but… but I couldn’t face it. Not after everything that happened.”

At her words, her father’s confusion only worsened, and he looked to his wife for answers. She just gave him a sideways glance and shrugged. He turned back to Coraline and stared at her expectantly.

“What are you talking about?”

Coraline sighed heavily and began eating at a rapid pace, muttering between mouthfuls.

“You wouldn’t understand…”

Her father made a noise of frustration before looking down at his food in defeat.

“No… I guess I wouldn’t.”

Her mother looked to be on the verge of tears. Coraline felt terribly guilty, but she couldn’t bring herself to spill everything that had happened thirteen years ago, especially now that she couldn’t even trust her own memories. She had been certain that she called. But it seemed she was as neglectful as her parents had been all those years ago, which, in a way, led to the events that sparked everything. The guilt didn’t go away, but it was muffled as Coraline thought of something that might spark some memories in her parents.

“Do you remember the little door in the living room?”

Her mother raised her eyebrows.

“The one you were obsessed with? What about it?”

“First of all, I wasn’t obsessed with it. Second of all, I just wondered if it was still there.”

By this time everyone had finished eating, so Coraline’s father stood up and began tidying their plates away, putting them on the tabletop to be cleaned momentarily.

“Well, of course it’s still there. I was thinking about knocking down the bricks at one point but the key disappeared ages ago.”

Coraline tensed slightly. If her mother or father had torn open that door, God only knows what might’ve come of it. She had never tried to knock those bricks down, and if she had, what exactly would she find? An empty space? Another portal? It likely didn’t matter, as the door was closed and locked and there was no way to enter through it. The well was the only accessible portal, and to get down there would take some considerable effort. She hadn’t exactly planned for that eventuality, but she’d figure it out somehow.

“I never got to see it, this mystery brick wall.”

Her father commented as he opened the fridge and brought out a cheesecake. Her mother leaned in slightly and lowered her voice, which was rather unlike her. Her hand gently gripped Coraline’s, who looked back at her mother with a perplexed expression.

“Did something happen with that door? Is that what you meant?”

There was something about the way her mother said that that unsettled Coraline. Did she know something? And the look in her eyes was feverish, filled with fresh terror, but it lasted only a second. After that second, it was gone, and her mother was just back to being a worried parent. Coraline shook her head.

“It’s nothing, mom. I was just curious.”

Her mother nodded amicably and her father sat back down, cutting each of them a slice of cheesecake. Coraline glanced out the window and for a second so brief that it might as well have been quicker than a blink, she saw a figure in the distant mist.

She wondered if exploring outside was the best idea after all.

*******

In the absence of rain, Coraline felt comfortable venturing outside. The mists had barely parted, but

There was a convenient path laid out for her along the edge of the garden.  The air was cold, so she

had wrapped a coat around herself for warmth. It wasn’t her old yellow coat, the one that had grown

far too large for her, but she imagined herself wearing it. The thought gave her a bit of comfort. She

wasn’t wearing her swampers either, her whole aesthetic having shifted ever since she left Ashland.

Wybie always said he missed it, but Coraline explained to him that it was just a little too strange for

her. Besides, it’s not like she had ran out of colour, she had just taken a more subtle approach.

As the path curled, Coraline could make out the edges of the garden, dead plants scattered about the plot in droves and the cobbled ground cracked in several places. This place had always been a bit of a mystery to her. In the Other World, the witch had moulded it to look like her “daughter’s” face, that sickening display just another of her ploys to get Coraline to love her, and fall in love with the world she made. In the real world, though, it still retained her shape, and the resemblance it bore most, oddly enough, was her real mother. She had considered this for a time, as she had so many details about her past, and eventually came to the conclusion that it must have been constructed to resemble the original owner.

Coraline had done some research on the Pink Palace since her departure from it. Apparently, it had been built as Ashland was being settled in 1852, and it was built for the town’s founder, an unnamed woman who was thought to be a seamstress. Very little was known about this woman, and the only details the records showed was that she lived alone, and had no children. Coraline had done a lot of thinking to go alongside her research, and as much as she theorised about how this woman could have some connection to the Beldam, or might possibly have been her before she found or made the Other World, it ultimately didn’t matter.

Whatever humanity that thing might’ve had at one point in time, over a hundred and fifty years ago, it was anything but human now. There was no way to appeal to its better nature, its mercy, for a predator has naught but hunger, and its prey cannot bargain with it. The only escape is death, the death of the victim or the monster. Coraline wasn’t planning on dying, but she knew she’d have to adapt her strategy if she wanted to kill the Beldam. If starvation wasn’t enough, she’d behead her, dismember her, burn her alive, whatever it took to be sure she was permanently gone.

As she circled around the house, Coraline suddenly felt droplets of rain hitting her face. She looked up just in time to see the downpour begin, torrential and mighty, and with a quick step she sheltered herself under the house’s porch. That put a damper on her plans to explore, and she could already see mud beginning to form on the ground. She sighed heavily and stomped back inside, shaking off the rainwater and running her hands through her hair. Instead of going out, she would probably just have to sit in her room and strategize.

Things were still awkward with her parents from lunch, and Coraline couldn’t help but have this distinctive, almost acidic feeling that something was not quite right with them. Or, perhaps, it was with her. The guilt of not having called for so long was eating at her, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d been so callous. If there was a call, nobody could remember it. Biting her inner cheek, she headed upstairs and flopped onto her bed, after tugging off her boots and throwing them to the side. She was getting back into her old habits.

She spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about what to do when she crossed the tunnel, and before she knew it, it was already time for bed. She undressed and put on her pyjamas, before brushing her teeth and checking on her parents. Their bedroom door was closed. She sighed in disappointment and returned to her room, tucking herself in. What a strange feeling it was to miss them when they were only a room away. They must’ve felt just as awkward as she had. All she wanted, though, was to diffuse that tension with a hug and tell them how sorry she was.

Without the Cat to keep her company, Coraline simply clicked off her light, rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. Sleep would bring respite, or at the very least, it would prove to be a convenient transition from that day to the next. She found herself pondering on how strange sleep was, like a form of time travel filled with hallucinations, and that pondering sufficiently knocked her out. She entered into a deep, dreamless slumber, floating in a placid ocean of void, endless and stretching out in every direction until the end of time and space itself.

******

Coraline awoke in the wee hours of the morning, which was not really morning at all, still dominated by the dark and the night. What woke her was a subtle scratching sound at the window, and she thought for a moment that the Cat had finally arrived to talk with her about her plans. But when she tried to sit up, or roll over, or even move her hand, she found herself quite incapable. Her eyes widened and she tried again to move, only to find herself completely frozen, her eyes the single functioning body part. Was this… sleep paralysis?

She’d heard about the condition before, and was sure she’d never suffered from it, and never could, yet here she was. Her eyes darted over to the window to try and make out the source of the ever-loudening scratching, only to find no Cat outside her window. Instead, a long, needle-like object was carving something into the glass, slowly and inexorably, one letter at a time. Coraline’s breathing intensified as she could make out a word in the window, sliced delicately into it by that old horror she was sure she had destroyed and drowned at the bottom of the well.

Screaming wouldn’t help, and she couldn’t even open her mouth, a dull whimpering noise echoing behind her paralysed lips. Nothing worked, she couldn’t even shut her eyes to stop the nightmare from invading her. When the monster hand’s work was finished, a shadow slipped across the wall and Coraline felt cold, sharp points drag across her scalp, a quiet snickering filling the silence left behind by the scratching’s departure. It was all she could do not to die of fright on the spot, her eyes slowly focusing on the window and realising that the word carved into it was ‘darling’.

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t cry out. She couldn’t fight off the evil. All she could do was lie still, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as a shape began to loom over her. She knew what it was. Its long body stretched down, past the foot of the bed, its carapace twitching in staccato and its arachnid limbs pinning her in place. She couldn’t see its face yet, still shrouded in darkness, but she felt a metallic hand brush against her cheek and tuck strands of hair behind her ear. It raised up and gently poked her on the nose, and in the shadows she could make out a luminous, jagged smile filled with nothing but hungry malice.

There was a moment of quiet terror, where all was still, and Coraline prayed that her torture would end. That moment seemed to stretch into eternity. Then, at the height of agony, the shape leaned down towards her and the Beldam’s cracked porcelain face came into view, her button eyes sewn back into place and gleaming in the low light. That horrific grin began to part, and Coraline felt something like breath against her nose, the stench of sawdust and mould overcoming everything. And then the Beldam spoke.

“See you soon.”

Coraline lurched upwards with a scream, control over her body returning to her. She clutched at her chest, hyperventilating as her eyes darted around the room. The witch was gone, and so was the paralysis. She looked over at the window, only to see it completely unblemished, not a single horrid letter carved into its surface. Steadily, she slowed her breathing, taking as long as she needed to calm down. She wasn’t calm, and wouldn’t be for a long time, but she was steadfast. Her parents hadn’t heard her screams, and if they had, they were choosing not to run to her.

A subtle meow drew her attention back to the window, and outside it, she saw a familiar black shape. She sighed in relief and got out of bed, heading to the window and opening it up. The Cat was perched on the windowsill, and he stared at her blankly as she picked him up and carried him inside.

“Just a nightmare…”

Coraline sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She was still shaken, despite the horrors having ended.

“No. It was her.”

The Cat’s voice caused her to look up and over at him. He licked one of his paws pensively, and she was forced to admit in that moment that he was right. There were no coincidences with that creature.

“Just because she can show you things doesn’t mean she’s as she appears.”

“Are you saying she can’t hurt me here, in the real world?”

The Cat nodded his head.

“It’s all part of her game. She still thinks she can scare you off. She’s more afraid of you than you are of her.”

With a quiet scoff, Coraline sat up and put on her slippers, grabbing her phone as she did. The Cat raised his proverbial eyebrow and jumped after her.

“You ever heard of being safe, rather than sorry?”

She turned on her phone’s flashlight and headed downstairs as quietly as she could. She headed for the kitchen, and in the kitchen was a locked cupboard. She searched through the key draw and took out a small silver one, using it on the cupboard door. Inside were some housework tools, chief among them being a crowbar. She remembered her father putting these tools in this cupboard, and very pointedly telling her not to open it unless he asked her to. She was a little offended that he thought she was still too young for that kind of thing, but in the present she thanked her past father for keeping such things so safe.

Grabbing the crowbar, she marched with purpose to the living room. The Cat watched from a distance, his eyes narrowed in intrigue, though still wary. What was she planning? Placing her phone on the floor, its torch facing up, Coraline dropped down to her knees and placed the crowbar’s hook between the little door and the wall. She fixed it securely in the gap between them, before wrenching with all her might. The door strained and creaked, and the Cat’s hackles raised slightly in anticipation. Coraline wrenched harder, grunting as she put everything she had into it. The door made a pained splintering sound, cracking at the edges, before it suddenly swung open.

Coraline made a sort of pitiful scoffing noise and sighed shakily at the sight. Just a bunch of bricks. The Cat slinked up beside her and pressed his body against her frame to comfort her. She stroked his head and thought about what to do next. Knock down the bricks? She’d probably just find an empty apartment beyond it, as was expected, but that just made her angrier. It couldn’t end like this, so soon, without closure. No, there would be a finale, there would be a final confrontation with the Beldam, and she would win, and she would answer all the questions that had burned since the day she discovered this door.

With a quiet huff, she stood up and stormed out of the room, the Cat following dutifully behind her. As she took her eyes off it, the door began to close, and a light glowed behind it. Quiet scratching echoed through the house, and to accompany it, the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the clashing of brass.

[formosusiniquis]

congratulations on your survival!!! bangfic?

thank you! everything else should be a breeze. the requested sentences have been added to the bangfic and here are some from naranja that can be shared!

Make Me Write | Make Me Write | me media naranja

“Alma isn’t here yet,” Nancy tells Robin, careful to maintain a professional blandess. No one she works with knows anything about her, she would like to keep it that way. “You’re early, she’s always on time.” One slip up in front of Sandra and the entire office would know that Nancy was from one of those freaky little midwestern towns where traumas occur. The kind of towns the born and bred New Yorkers scoff about, the kind of town whose tourists visit and complain about the city while the place they call home still dabbles in cross burning. Hawkins had its fifteen minutes, Nancy wasn’t interested in reliving them for the rest of her career.

[burningtacozombie]

“Hey yo! Loud assed, Harley riding fuckboy!”

[...]

He began to chuckle quietly, sighing hard. “Tyrone, you stay awake jerking off to Porn Hub and playing video games until 6am. Ain’t nobody disturbing your sleep.”

LMFAO I SHRIEKED!!! I love him and his smartass clapbacks, did I say that recently? yes? let me repeat it then. I love him. 

“Blow me!”

“Not without dinner and a movie,” he muttered.

MY MAN IS ON FIRE this early in the morning :D :D

He crinkled his nose, shrugging his kutte off. “Yeah, I do. Had a girl in there last night. I’m not letting a guest sleep in my funky sex sheets. I might not be domesticated much, but I got basic manners.” 

it was me, sorry Emma. let him change the sheets, trust me. xD

God, those were some tolerant guys, not complaining once about how bad she’d stunk while having to share confined space with her in the van.

somehow I’m pretty sure not all of them smell good at all times either. I always figured personal hygiene, and housekeeping for that matter, isn’t exactly high on their priority lists, lol.

[...] the water sadly couldn’t do anything for the way she felt upon the inside. Choking a sob, she attempted to hold it in, her chest quivering as she began to cry. All the anxiety, the fear, the trauma of her ordeal, the years of fight, flight or freeze, it began to pour out of her in waves [...]

this hits close to home and I feel so bad for her. shit, hopefully she’ll never have to go through anything like that ever again.

Although she still sat curled into herself, there was one notable change, his smile beginning to dimple his cheeks. It made him look even more attractive [...]

yes it does. even in the deepest hell of trauma it’s impossible not to notice that this man has an incredible smile. 

[...] her attention suddenly caught by the sight from the kitchen window, of which she could just about see from her spot on the couch through the living room door. She glimpsed at a rope swinging, feeling settled to know he was still close by, wondering if she should go out to him.

dang girl, you missed Le View. you shoulda gone out to him, watch him work out. now that must be a sight to see.

“Toast? That’s about all I got in, and even if I did have better stuff, I wouldn’t trust my cooking. I burn water. I’d probably give you food poisoning just from trying to make pasta.”

She snorted softly, stifling another yawn. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It is with me. Trust my level of disaster in the kitchen, because it’s off the damned scale!”

LMAO and we would still eat it and say thank you, sir. :D <3

He would have added that having a girl so damned pretty in his home was never unwelcome, but he knew she really didn’t need his unsubtle flirting at that moment. This was not an occasion where he’d let his mouth run away with itself.

aww, very thoughtful of you, babe. let her calm down a bit before flooding her with flirty jokes. she’ll appreciate them when she’s ready. :) 

While sitting there quietly chastising the choices various serial killers had made in body and evidence disposal, such mistakes inevitably leading to them getting caught (‘should have buried the body deeper!’ ‘Use bleach to clean blood stains!’ ‘Fucking dumbass was asking to get caught!’) [...]

OF COURSE you would have an opinion on that. fucking amateurs. shit like that would never happen to you, you’re better than that. :D

“Just don’t freak the poor chick out by trying to get on top of her.” He muttered to himself, laughing at his own idiocy for even letting it cross his mind.

THE WHEEZE I WHOZE! I love you. 

The voice was so booming and loud in her brain, it catapulted her from slumber, sitting up with a start, gasping. She then jumped again at the small woof from beside her, turning to see Axl lying on the floor next to the couch, the dog on high alert.

oh baby girl, this won’t be the last nightmare you’re going to have... :/ 

Lost & Found - Chapter Four.

Thanks so much for your continued engagement, my lovely, lovely people of the tumblr! :)

Previous chapters - One  Two Three

Words - 3,114

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters.

They peeled off in a different direction from the four bikes that had led the way through the scrapyard again, the journey through the desolate streets taking only ten minutes. The sun was just beginning to rise when they entered a long road lined with modest bungalow properties, broken down cars and debris littering the driveways of many. The small driveway they pulled into was free of such, but the lawn hugely overgrown, a large tree providing a shaded canopy over the front of the house. 

He noticed her taking in the unkempt grass, feeling a smidgen of shame at the state of it. “Um, don’t judge me too much on my lack of yard work,” he began, tucking his chin a little as he cleared his throat. “Don’t get much time for it.” She was just about to tell him that it was fine, when an opening window and a shout through it from the adjoining property halted her reply. 

“Hey yo! Loud assed, Harley riding fuckboy!” 

Guero rolled his eyes. “’Sup, Tyrone?” 

The thin curtains were haphazardly swatted away, a large man sticking his head up into view from the front room. “Yo’ bitch ass disturbing my sleep is what’s up, homie!”  

He began to chuckle quietly, sighing hard. “Tyrone, you stay awake jerking off to Porn Hub and playing video games until 6am. Ain’t nobody disturbing your sleep.” 

He lifted his chin in defiance, resting the curtains behind his large, bald head. “I couldda bin’ sleeping.” He paused, eyes flitting to Emma. “Morning, boo. What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ with him?”  

She folded her arms, dropping her head as she shuffled her foot over a loose stone on the driveway, Guero fishing for his house keys. “None of your business, bro. Get back to C.O.D.”  

“Blow me!” 

“Not without dinner and a movie,” he muttered.  

“You get pizza and a Prime rental, bougie assed motherfucker!” 

He snorted laughing, opening up his front door, suddenly pausing. “Um, you alright with big dogs? ‘Cuz I got a pitbull in there. He’s friendly as hell, but huge.”  

Emma could hear the clattering of claws and whimpering become audible, a long, high-pitched whine following. “Yeah, all good.” Opening the door, he received the gigantic, brown and white dog leaping into his arms, his tail wagging in frenzy, Guero lifting his chin and scrunching his face as he had doggie kisses rained upon him.  

“How’s my boy, huh? How you doing?” he spoke warmly, eventually putting him down, the dog wiggling his way to Emma, giving her a good sniff. Her hands reached for his huge head, stroking the soft crinkles, his green eyes looking up at her with all the purity dogs reserved for humans who gave them the simple joy of scratches. “His name’s Axl, by the way. Used to belong to my dad.” 

“Used to?” she inquired.  

His eyes saddened, his smile thinning as placing his keys down on the coffee table. “Yeah, he died about a year and a half ago, so I inherited him.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she offered, Guero drawing his shoulders up slightly. 

“Thanks.” He paused, gesturing around. “Sorry it ain’t much. Let me go change my bed linen for you, I’ll take the couch. I’m guessing you might wanna shower, right? Bathroom is through there, there’s a clean towel in the cupboard.” 

She set her backpack down, immediately feel uneasy with him going to the effort, just for her. “You don’t have to go to any trouble.” 

He crinkled his nose, shrugging his kutte off. “Yeah, I do. Had a girl in there last night. I’m not letting a guest sleep in my funky sex sheets. I might not be domesticated much, but I got basic manners.”  

A little tide of panic rose in her. “Oh, I, I didn’t realise you h-had a girlfriend. I can go somewhere, go stay someplace else if it-it's going to upset her?”  

He smiled, shaking his head. “I said a girl, not girlfriend. Haven’t got one of those.”  

That information relieved her, sent a tiny spark flaring in her belly, looking at her feet as they shared a few moments of awkward silence, Guero clearing his throat. “Alright, I’ll go sort that linen.” 

“Okay. I’ll um, be in the bathroom. Oh, I h-hate to ask but c-can I borrow some clothes?” 

“Sure,” he nodded, “I’ll go find some sweats and a t shirt.” He turned, walking around the couch to the door directly behind, opening his bedroom and quickly grabbing the clean grey sweats and a white t shirt. They’d both bury her, but it was the best he could do. He was just thankful he actually had clean clothes for once, although a big enough pile that needed washing had mounted up in the corner of the room.  

He’d meant what he’d said about not being domesticated, even though his rental home did come with a washer dryer within the tiny utility room off the kitchen. His clothes only ever found their way into there when he’d all but run out of clean items. 

He passed them to her through the bathroom door, leaving her in peace, Emma taking a look around. It was decorated nicely, white tiles halfway up the walls and dark ecru painted up to the ceiling, which was also white. It really needed a good clean, though, but she wasn’t about to judge Guero for his lack of housekeeping, simply glad she had a home to be in.  

Drawing the curtain around the bathtub, she switched the shower on, the jet spluttering into life, Emma beginning to strip her dirty, foul-smelling clothes off. God, those were some tolerant guys, not complaining once about how bad she’d stunk while having to share confined space with her in the van. 

Turning to view herself in the mirror, she let out a soft gasp. Was that really her? Turning sideways on, she examined her reflection closer, her appearance a shock. She’d always been slight, but the sight of her ribs jutting out beneath her skin made her feel a little queasy. She estimated a loss of around fifteen pounds, maybe more on her two-protein-bar-a-day diet. 

With her emotions a little stirred, she stepped into the bathtub, the feel of hot water hitting her skin the most sublime sensation after almost a month of being unable to wash. Oh, it was bliss. After shampooing her hair three times, she carefully finger combed all of the knots out, taking the bottle of shower gel and lathering herself down, enjoying the familiar smell. Safe person scent. 

Standing there beneath the water, she felt further cleansed as the minutes ticked by, clean skin and hair restored, but the water sadly couldn’t do anything for the way she felt upon the inside. Choking a sob, she attempted to hold it in, her chest quivering as she began to cry. All the anxiety, the fear, the trauma of her ordeal, the years of fight, flight or freeze, it began to pour out of her in waves now that she was almost two and a half thousand miles away from it.  

Her body was wracked with the force of her sobs, falling to her knees, hugging her arms around her head, the water pelting against her protruding spine as she gasped and choked on her relief. Her past wouldn’t leave her quite as easily as her tears, it would cling to her bones like a residual resin, but for that moment the emotional release was sufficient.  

Pushing up to her feet, she turned the lever to cold, the sudden shock acting as a calming agent upon her, standing for as long as she could manage, turning the faucet off and wringing her hair out. After drying off and rubbing her hair to damp, she hung the towel on the rail before rinsing out her mouth with a cup of mouthwash, exiting the bathroom to find Guero on the couch, Axl snoring on the armchair in the corner.  

He noted that looked a little less haunted as she sat down, curling her knees up to her chest. “Better?”  

“Much, thank you,” she replied, reaching into her backpack for the bottle of cherry Coke. “How long have you lived here for, then?” Her question was coupled with a small nod towards a pile of boxes across the living room, figuring him to have fairly recently moved in. “I take it from the boxes, not too long?” 

He took a moment, the difference in her palpable. Although she still sat curled into herself, there was one notable change, his smile beginning to dimple his cheeks. It made him look even more attractive, but also caused Emma to feel a little self-conscious suddenly. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he sniffed casually, “nothing bad. It’s just that you’ve stopped stammering when you talk. It’s good to see you chill. And I moved in here eleven months ago, back when I transferred from Tuscon.”  

“So that’s where you’re originally from?” 

More words, still no stammers. It was a stark contrast to the quiet girl who had been so frightened still back at the clubhouse, still so blanketed in her trauma. He wagered that if it wasn’t just he and his dog she was in the company of, though, she likely still would be. “Nope, just outside of it. I grew up in a small town called Marana.”  

He only got a few minutes into telling her about his hometown when he looked up and realised she’d fallen asleep. To be expected, after the time she’d had of late. He debated moving her to the bedroom, but didn’t want to potentially scare her, so instead went into his bedroom and took a spare blanket, covering her with it. His couch was comfy as hell, she’d be fine. After a quick shower, he happily flopped down into a fresh bed, not waking until 11am the following morning. 

Checking on his guest, he found her still sleeping, Axl heaving his bulk from the armchair and following him into the kitchen, waiting on his breakfast. A package of raw food was taken from the fridge and emptied into his bowl, a raw egg cracked atop it.  

His dad had insisted on only the best for his beloved canine friend, something Guero followed to the letter after collecting the dog from the clutches of his bitch of a stepmother, who was all for sending him to the pound. He and Ramona did not have the best of relationships; in fact, it would be fair to say he couldn’t stand the woman. Ibarra had deserved way better, if you’d asked him. About the only things she had going for her was a pretty face and nice tits.  

He made himself some toast and coffee, eating in the kitchen while browsing his phone, checking on Emma every so often. He felt in somewhat of a quandary about leaving, not wanting to wake her since she was so exhausted, but uneasy about leaving her alone. Club duties were always null and void the day following a San Diego run, just a couple of guys in on rotation to oversee the legitimate side of life at the yard. Today was not his day in, but he had planned on hitting the gym at some point. Or he could just work out from home. He had a jump rope and kettle bells for a reason.  

While he heaved the large weights outside so he could partake of his fitness under the bright sun, Emma stirred, coming into consciousness slowly, her eyes suddenly widening. Where was she? Tension roared up her spine as she sat up with a start, her eyes wide, still feeling half asleep. Each vertebra then began to slacken as the previous early morning came back to her, breathing a sigh of relief.  

It felt strange not to wake up in total darkness, the three weeks within the container not just damaging to her psyche, but also hampering her circadian rhythms. It was light outside, but she felt as if she should still be sleeping, her tired body heavy, the weight of everything that had led to her ending up on that couch pulling upon her bones. 

She felt out of tempo, there in a brand-new place, free of her normal routines, her daily grind that had not faltered in so many years. What could she do now? Should she thank Guero for his hospitality and move on, should she stay longer? What did he expect, going forward? Speaking of her host, where was he?  

Sitting up a little more, she looked around, her attention suddenly caught by the sight from the kitchen window, of which she could just about see from her spot on the couch through the living room door. She glimpsed at a rope swinging, feeling settled to know he was still close by, wondering if she should go out to him. If she did, would he likely tell her to leave? What if he did, where would she go?  

She’d planned on a cheap motel someplace before figuring out what the hell to do next, sitting there on the couch not knowing truly how to take the first step into this new existence she’d finally managed to secure. With her head buzzing in anxiousness, she settled back down, hugging the blanket around herself. It smelled like him.  

Falling asleep, the next time she woke up it was dark, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, Guero over in the armchair, watching the TV on mute, subtitles flickering across the bottom of the screen.  

“Hey sleepy, ’sup?” His smile was warm, comforting. “Didn’t wanna wake you up, you’ve been out all day.” 

“What time is it?” she muffled, yawning against her arm. 

“Just gone eleven.” 

Her eyes widened at that revelation. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’ve probably been in your way all day. Unless you went out? I woke up earlier and you were in the backyard, though. I haven’t ruined any plans you had, have I?”  

Laughing softly, he shook his head at her flustered words. “Nah, day off. You haven’t gotten in my way either. How’d you feel?” 

“Better,” she admitted, stretching her arms above her head. “But like I really, really need to brush my teeth.” 

He nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush in a packet under the sink. Help yourself. You hungry?”  

“Thanks, and yeah, a little bit.”  

“Toast? That’s about all I got in, and even if I did have better stuff, I wouldn’t trust my cooking. I burn water. I’d probably give you food poisoning just from trying to make pasta.” 

She snorted softly, stifling another yawn. “I don’t think that’s possible.” 

“It is with me. Trust my level of disaster in the kitchen, because it’s off the damned scale!”  Getting up, he headed for the kitchen, Emma going to make use of the bathroom, taking a shower while she was there, too.  

“Clean clothes, and toast is done.” He called through the small gap in the door he’d stuck his arm through, putting down another pair of sweats and a vest for her. She called her thanks, getting out and dressing, placing the clothes she’d had on in the very overstuffed laundry hamper in the corner. 

“So, when do you want me out of here?” she asked tentatively as she sat down, picking up the plate of perfectly golden toast. He was perhaps less of a disaster than he made out, she thought, biting into the first slice.  

“There’s no expiration date on it. Until you find your feet, I don’t mind. Kinda like having company, and I think my dog likes you, too. Not just ‘cuz you have toast either.” Nodding down at Axl, Emma followed his line of vision, the dog looking hopeful for a small mouthful of what she was eating.  

He would have added that having a girl so damned pretty in his home was never unwelcome, but he knew she really didn’t need his unsubtle flirting at that moment. This was not an occasion where he’d let his mouth run away with itself. She seemed to settle to the idea that her time there wasn’t limited, both making small talk as she ate, Guero excusing himself to let Axl out when he began to whine.  

When he arrived back, he found her asleep again. It didn’t surprise him. God knows how much proper rest a person got in a shipping container. He pulled the blanket up over her, this thumb skimming her slender shoulder softly, going back to watching TV with the subtitles on.  

While sitting there quietly chastising the choices various serial killers had made in body and evidence disposal, such mistakes inevitably leading to them getting caught (‘should have buried the body deeper!’ ‘Use bleach to clean blood stains!’ ‘Fucking dumbass was asking to get caught!’) he continued to look over at his sleeping guest every so often.  

She was a complete enigma to him, but he felt so compelled to try and help her. Maybe he was a sucker for the whole damsel in distress thing, maybe it was because he felt a swell of pride at being the person who she seemed to be most comfortable with, perhaps a little of both.  

“Just don’t freak the poor chick out by trying to get on top of her.” He muttered to himself, laughing at his own idiocy for even letting it cross his mind. As if she needed that right now. A further half hour and he decided to call it a night, stripping off and crawling into bed. While he slept soundly, the same couldn’t be said for Emma.  

A hand grasped her throat, her windpipe bending with the indentation from a large thumb, a fist meeting her skull.  

“This is not good enough, you hear me? I said do you fucking hear me?”  

The voice was so booming and loud in her brain, it catapulted her from slumber, sitting up with a start, gasping. She then jumped again at the small woof from beside her, turning to see Axl lying on the floor next to the couch, the dog on high alert.  

“Sorry for waking you, handsome boy,” she cooed, her hand finding his head. He rose to his feet, jumping up on the couch to curl against her, licking her cheek before he got comfortable. “Aww, look at you. My protector.” Feeling herself calm, she wrapped an arm around her furry new friend, her hand idly stroking at a swirl on his chest before it stilled, sleep pulling her in once more. 

Thankfully, it was dreamless.  

[mochiimac]

About Love Prologue

My head gets messy when I try to hide

The things I love about you in mind

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x Fem!Reader

Summary: Becoming a best selling thriller author? Part of the plan. Living in the city and isolating yourself from everyone? Part of the plan. Inheriting your late uncles home in the woods, his sassy assistant and fortune after he died mysteriously? Not part of the plan. Oh, and he failed to mention the 7 'surprises' he left you as well.  And come to think of it... was his death an accident? Or is your imagination going wild again?

Genre: Hybrid!AU

Warnings (if bolded then this chapter contains these elements): Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Angst, Death, Abuse, Smut, Violence, Dom/Sub, Non-Con Elements, Slow Burn, Trauma

Rating: M 18+

WC: 3.3k

Notes: I’m so excited to get this story going! Thank you for sharing interest in About Love and please enjoy

Tag List: OPEN- DM only! If you commented before 12/10 I added you, but from here on out DM only - I might lose you in the comments <3

Next >>

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The year is 2222.

It has been 150 years since the first hybrid was created. What started as a curious scientific breakthrough soon turned into a global sensation. And with hybrids becoming an obsession amongst the human race soon businesses began to profit over the creations. Hybrids were no longer living souls, they were seen as property to own; an item to show just how wealthy a man or woman was. As each generation came and went the amount of hybrids in the world boomed.

Currently hybrids can be seen from any class family and are adopted or purchased for many different reasons. Some adopt hybrids to help give them better homes, some adopt for help with businesses,  and there are those who adopt for reasons that are not humane in the slightest. Laws were made, only dehumanizing them more with the need for them to wear leashes and have permits to even travel without their ‘owner’. 

You always wanted to adopt a hybrid, offering a home with freedom and a chance at a better life. You knew there would be an opportunity one day…

Just not like this.

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Everyone has that moment in life where their world suddenly shifts and everything has changed. In the blink of an eye their plans are thrown out the window, gone with the breeze while they stand and watch. Uncertainty plaguing their mind as they wonder the bid question: what now?

Your moment happened several weeks ago. 

In a ten second voicemail. 

“Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“The boxes are excused. The leftover takeout on the counter however… is not.”

Various boxes filled the tiny apartment, items placed on counters and tables in an attempt to organize, well, your life. For years you had lived in the tiny one bedroom apartment, located right in the heart of the city and now you had to pack it all up in the span of a few weeks. The hardest thing to pack were the shelves of books you had collected since you were young; each box weighing too much for one person to lift alone. Well… for you to lift alone. You blamed it on your occupation: you were an author after all, not a fitness instructor. 

But perhaps your help could lift the boxes that had your knees shaking… Maybe.

Jackson Wang, a tall handsome man nearing his thirties, stood in your apartment as he surveyed the small living space. He stood out from the soft colors of your home with his black suit and black wool coat. His dark hair was styled well, face clean, and eyes alert. They scanned you over once before reaching the kitchen area again, a small twitch in his jaw.

This was the second time you have met and in those brief moments you have quickly learned that while the man held high standards to his appearance (and living space from that comment) and had a tongue that might sting. But you knew he was kind and had a good heart. Hence why he was there to help you move… that and he was getting paid. 

But you just want to believe he genuinely wants to help.

“So are you planning on opening a library soon?” Jackson’s gaze was zeroed in on the boxes upon boxes of books, the Chinese takeout long forgotten now. His tone held amusement despite the wide eyes as he stepped closer to the mountain of a pile. The boxes were stacked high, almost as tall as he was. 

“Absolutely, I’ll let you know when I open so that you can be my first customer.” The retort had you grinning as he scoffed, crossing his arms. Truth be told you did feel a bit bad for him: you told him you had some boxes. And you thought you did… until you packed everything and slowly the pile got bigger. 

His finger brushed against one of the boxes, the amusement gone from his voice as he whispered. “Takoda loved to read. He always had a book to recommend.” 

The air felt chillier as silence fell between the two of you. Takoda Spades. The uncle you adored, the one who helped you get into writing and becoming an author. The very man who encouraged you to be your own person in a world where everyone expected you to act just like a Spades. The very fact he was no longer alive had been a dagger in your heart. A month later and the wound still feels as fresh as it was that morning when you received the very short voicemail from your father. Not even ten seconds long. You weren’t surprised however; the two were completely different people. Your father was greedy and wanted to control everything. Takoda was giving and wanted nothing more than peace. Which was why he was the only one you kept in contact with and trusted in your family. 

The two of you were the black sheep in the family: the insane old man and the disappointment of a daughter. A dynamic duo in your opinion.

Your gaze glanced to see Jackson staring at the books with a slight frown, lost in his own thoughts as well. He was Takoda’s assistant for nearly a decade and now his job was to help you adjust and be your assistant if he chose. In his will he had left some of the immediate family certain assets and all of which were known homes and various items Takoda had kept. You were the last one to be seen about what was left for you and that was on purpose: to not raise suspicion. As far as the family knew you were left nothing but a small sum. 

But that was far from the truth.

Takoda left you a large home located in the mountains and forest, a home not even you were aware of. That and nearly all of his fortune was yours. A fortune made from being a Spades and other work you didn’t know of. Jackson was a lifeline for you and was guiding you through this new chapter in life. You just hoped he wasn’t too burdened with this. Takoda’s death must have been hard on him as well.  

As if reading your thoughts he turned to look at you, tight lipped smile. “And now I’m stuck with another bookworm. Alright… let’s get some of your boxes to the new home.” A part of you was thankful he didn’t let the silence dwell nor settle on the solemn feeling that seemed to come and go. Instead it was back to business, back to his witty mouth.

“Right, I was going to start with the books and… what else…” You glanced around to see what else could go without being needed. You were grateful for the break in the silence and embraced the distraction. It was something you both needed.

“How about some old clothes of yours?” Jackson nodded towards your room. “Summer clothes perhaps? It’s too cold for them.” 

With a nod you went to your room and brought out a box full of clothes that couldn’t be worn just yet. Unless you wanted to freeze to death. Placing it on the counter you moved to grab a box of paperback books and slide it on the floor. “I’ll help you load them in the car, just let me grab my sweatshirt…” You reached for the hook to find it gone. Frowning you looked down to see if it had fallen…

“No need Heiress, I can easily take these to the car.” Jackson smiled, the clothes box in hand as he headed to the door. “Line up the boxes that need to be taken today for me.”

“For the hundredth time it’s Y/n and really, I can help-” Your words fell on deaf ears as the door opened and shut with ease. Setting your teeth you shook your head at the closed door and decided to just follow his instructions. It wasn’t like you could carry the boxes easily anyway. 

Jackson made quick work with packing it all up in the SUV, lifting each one with ease. It was impressive, given that you lived on the fourth floor and the elevator was broken. You watched from the window, wary of sending your things off to a far away home that you’ve never been to before with a man you had only known for a month. Met twice. 

Not a single drop of sweat was on his head as he returned back to your apartment with the last of the books.“I have room for a couple more boxes, surprisingly enough. I didn’t even think we could fit your entire library in there without a million trips. I feel like I’m delivering a truck to Barnes and Noble.”

“Har har,” You spoke flatly as you eyed the apartment once more. There were necessities that you still needed to have until your last day. 

“Old blankets? Ones that you most likely should throw away but instead toss them in the closet for company that never comes?” His smile went wider as your eye nearly twitched at the man. You grumbled past him, moving to your room as he chuckled. You were beginning to learn that he enjoyed pushing buttons and watching you react. 

One large box later and he was heading to the door. “I’ll be back next week for more boxes,” He spoke over his shoulder, easily opening the door with one hand. “If the trash is still on the counter when I’m back I will quit.” He sounded dismissive, as if he didn’t care, however you watched his eyes look over you once more before nodding and leaving. 

A silent way of making sure that you were okay.

‘He does have a point…’ You grabbed a trash bag and made quick with cleaning up the mess of the past few nights. Nights that were spent juggling packing, sorting, writing, and all the fun adulting things. It only took a few minutes to clean it all up, already feeling better than before. Less clutter in your eyes to worry about. 

Your butt made contact with the couch for a solid second before music flooded the apartment, loud and demanding. Groaning you stood and walked over to the kitchen area where your phone sat, your best friend’s name illuminating the screen. You were expecting this call, especially after telling her about your plans for the day.

Weeks prior you explained your situation to her and your other two close friends which caused them to immediately look up Jackon’s profile. Jessi has deemed him the most handsome man alive and you knew she wanted updates on him.

Her voice came out quick, the words nearly blending into each other. “Please tell me he is still hot, that he’s still lickable-”

“Jessi, chill!” You laughed at your best friend, closing your door as you went back inside. The apartment felt less crowded, seeing that most of your moving boxes that were scattered were the books. “Aren’t you at work?” Amusement laced your words, wondering what her coworkers were thinking if she was near them, hearing her questions. Then again it was Jessi.

“I don’t care about them! Tell me if he wore a suit. He did, didn’t he? God he must look so good with a suit on, sleeves rolled up… Did you at least try to give him a good fu-”

“He’s still handsome and he’s helping me with all… this.” Your hands gestured around you, as if she could see you. “This… new life. This… strange and new life I have to live.” 

“Mmm… your life has gotten crazy hon. I’m sorry for it… I know I keep saying that but I am. You were close to your uncle.” 

Jessi has been your friend since you were a teenager, having known Takoda as well. She understood how he stood by you when your own father wouldn’t. The man helped you embrace your dreams and build your confidence when everyone around you wanted to tear it down. And when that voicemail rocked you to your core Jessi comforted you through every step. Never once letting you down or leaving you alone for more than a few hours at a time.

“I know, thank you for being here for me.” Walking into your room you sank into your bed, “Without you and the others… I don’t know what I’d do.” A small smile played on your lips as you thought of your small friend group. 

A snort came from her end. “Go insane most likely. We are your Sanity Squad after all. Speaking of sanity…” There was shuffling before a door opened and closed. Her words came out in a hiss. “I’m hiding in the janitor's closet to ask this but… did he actually die of natural causes?”

The room felt colder again. Instinctively you reached for the plush blanket you always cuddled with when you needed to feel secure to find it gone. Huffing you shuffled under the comforter, curling up with the phone to your ear. Takoda’s death was suspicious to you… a man of great health who lived a healthy lifestyle suddenly dies? And no one would tell you exactly how? It got your brain working overtime. Especially when your family didn’t dwell on the details.

“I’m slowly reading them.” you began, mind being clouded with thoughts once more. “They just… don’t make sense. There were several different pathologists that viewed the body but only one of their statements was documented.”

“Let me guess: that dude is buddies with your dad, right?”

“Wouldn’t doubt it…” You muttered. “But other than that, I haven’t gotten too far. It’s… difficult? I guess that’s the right word.”

“And terrifying. Your family basically owns this city. Thank god that new house is out of city limits.”

You agreed, but something in your heart weighed down. Your instincts were letting you know that Takoda gifting you a house outside the city without the knowledge of anyone else knowing of it was done on purpose. Maybe it was the writer in you, but knowing Jessi felt the same way made you feel better. 

Less like an insane writer who went off the deep end.

Sensing the uneasiness Jessi was quick to shift the topic back to Jackson and was drilling you about him as you laughed at her questions and tried to calm her down. “Shouldn’t you be going back to work? You’re still in the janitor's closet, right?”

“I have no want or intention of going back to work. Now… please tell me his arms looked good carrying those boxes. Like imagine having them wrap around you, hearing his panting as he-”

“Oh my god Jessi!”

｡❅*⋆⍋*｡*⍋⋆*❅｡

Snow crunched under his boots as he made his way to the front door, stacking the last of the boxes right outside the front door. He even made sure to clear snow away, not wanting to let the cardboard get damaged along with the items inside. If he had it his way he’d place the boxes from Y/n’s apartment inside the foyer where they would be kept safe from the harsh winter weather. But Takoda’s letter was strict and clear, which spoke a lot since the man himself was usually laid back and even a bit of a jokester. Jackson could see how the pen that the late man used was nearly indented in the paper, written with earnestness. 

Do not go inside the home without Y/n. Do not linger too long. Be quick. 

Jackson at first thought Takoda was being dramatic, maybe a bit delusional on writing the letter like this. Shouldn’t he inspect the home at least once before Y/n arrived? What if someone broke in? But judging by the dense woods and lack of tracks he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. But that didn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck from rising. 

He knew he was alone. He didn’t see a single soul around, not even tire marks in the freshly fallen snow. Yet… yet his instincts told him otherwise. He was far from alone. He was being watched carefully. Jackson couldn’t determine where these unknown eyes were coming from, but he knew it wasn’t too far. And that he overstayed his welcome with each passing second. 

Not even a minute later he was back in the car, gripping the steering wheel as he drove away from the mansion-like house. The note had clear directions on things he shouldn’t do as well as things he should do. Things that made him confused, but his trust in Takoda was unwavering. He was a good man with a large heart. But still Jackson wondered what on earth was going on in that house…

If only Jackson knew he was not far off from the truth. If had focused on the woods to his right he would have seen a pair of amber eyes glowing against the darkness.

 Watching his every move.

｡❅*⋆⍋*｡*⍋⋆*❅｡

Everything was soft, so soft… and smelt so good… 

Crispy, sweet, a hint of spice… female… he couldn’t help but let out a soft groan as his body reacted to what his senses were picking up. He stretched and buried his inside the soft material as soft rumbles echoed in his chest. His nose flared as the scent invaded his very soul, body full of mixed emotions as his eyes flashed from gold to a soft lilac spontaneously. 

He adored the scent, craved it, and wanted to be smothered in it. It was fruity and mouth watering, his drool nearly escaping his lips with each intake of breath. It was like biting into a juicy apple that was fresh and cool. He could pick up a sweetness that held a soft spice, so much like a vanilla and cinnamon concoction made just for them. The scent was a walking bakery that had his head spinning in the best way possible. But there was just one problem…

She wasn’t there.

His hand gripped the material as the fear of losing the scent was already setting in. Despite just receiving the item only minutes ago his anxiety was rising. Scents only last on clothes for  a few days when out in the open like this, five days at max. A low growl crept up his throat, knowing it would be another week for him to come back. He didn’t want the stranger to return, didn’t like the fact that he got to be near this scent, meanwhile they had to wait and cling to whatever was brought and left on the doorstep. He bet he got to be close to her…

The mere thought had the low growl growing, teeth baring as his body went stiff. Instincts were high and alert, his body already welcoming the new bond without so much as a second question. But that male was keeping her from him. From all of them. The stranger had you placed somewhere far, a place that he knew wasn’t safe because they weren’t there to protect you. 

A hand gently ruffled his locks, easing the growl down as well as his emotions. He must have leaked it into the bond, but he couldn’t help himself and deep down he knew they felt the same way. She was out there in the world, alone and without them. Without proper protection and safety, so much could happen. 

And they haven’t even had the chance to meet her yet.

The hand kept soothing away his worries, despite his anxiety bringing them back. With every new terrifying thought came another wave of peace from his pack mate. It was hard, having the scent right before him and yet not the owner. His instincts were on edge, much like the others. 

Their mate was out there while they were trapped inside.

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Next >>

Tag List: @zae007live​, @imnotlauriane​

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.