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all-pacas · 1 year ago

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life's a beach!

I started this fic ages ago, just after 3 Hopes was released and I was all about Claude's hot girl summer, and then I never finished it? But I still really liked it? So whatever, I don't know if I can ever come up with a proper ending but it's still 2k of pretty good so

By the time the Federation army returned, blistered and exhausted, to camp, Shez and the Ashen Demon had already become fast friends. Well: Shez was chatting away at the Demon’s right, and the other woman did not seem entirely disinterested.

Lindhart had been in the Federation Army longer than even Holst. Lindhart also liked to use his technical status of Prisoner of War to get out of tiring, sweaty battles, particularly messy situations like Empire generals going rogue and attacking Federation forces despite us having a very clear treaty about that sort of thing. Still, it was impossible to go for more than a week around here without listening to Shez bragging about how she was totally gonna defeat the Ashen Demon someday.

“Are you friends now?” he asks as the women stroll by, the Ashen Demon following her father, Shez and for some reason Alois like ducklings in tow.

“Of course!” Shez says proudly, slapping her palm to her chest.

The Ashen Demon’s expression does not change.

“I thought you were going to kill her. Dramatically. Theatrically.” Not that Lindhart wants that, you understand. But Shez says that sort of thing a lot.

“Nah, I’m over it,” Shez says cheerfully.

The Ashen Demon’s expression does not change.

Claude, a manic gleam in his eyes, materializes out of nowhere. “Lindhart! Just the man I wanted to see. You’re going to help me write a strongly worded letter to Edelgard.”

“Alas, I am merely a prisoner of war and—“

Claude hooks him around the neck with an elbow, and Lindhart doesn’t resist. What a mess. Claude pauses. Stands with his bait hooked and runs his free hand through his hair in the off-chance that will help.

“I trust you found your new contract in order?” he asks Jeralt with reasonable formality.

Jeralt tries not to smile. He’d had a six-month contract with the Empire and knew their new boss was half a kid herself, but never had occasion to meet her Imperial Majesty. But this kid is in charge of Leicester? Goddess above, Byleth’s got at least a couple years on him, and Jeralt still thinks of her as half a baby. Claude has the sleepy-looking fellow in a headlock, just brushed his hair back, and already has a cowlick again. Saints. “Terms were fine,” he says calmly. “Generous, even.”

“Well, I know better than to let an opportunity pass me by, and after the troubles your men have given us these past months…” The kid’s gaze falls on Byleth, observing quietly.

“I mean, trouble is putting it strongly,” Shez interjects. “I could have taken her. They didn’t give us trouble. At most, a little —“ she falters, looking for a word.

“Trouble?” Byleth suggests.

“My neck hurts,” the man in a headlock complains.

“You guys buddies now?” Claude asks, gesturing at the women who had, to the best of his and the camp’s knowledge, been sworn, fated, and dramatic foes until two days ago.

“‘Course!” says Shez, slapping her chest with her palm.

Claude sends a diplomatic party south with a letter expressing dismay that Edelgard would allow one of her generals to invade and attack her most recent and trusted ally. He details, politely, the damage Fleche had caused (minimal), and the worries sprung anew in his breast (insignificant) that Edelgard was not taking this alliance seriously, that she would condone such a traitorous act (unsurprising), and that recently two Imperial armies had been lost in Federation lands through no fault of Claude’s own and he hopes she remembers this fact (threat).

He has Lorenz read the letter before it goes, testing to see if Lorenz will mention the obvious: if he cannot resist, Edelgard certainly will not. Then Claude asks Judith. Then Holst. Even considering Nader, drumming his fingers against the meeting-hall table while watching Holst read the documents — not that Nader will give a shit, he knows that, but…

He’d asked Marianne to prepare Fleche’s body and armor for transport home; he’d needed it handled by someone he trusts. She’s helping load the wagon when he finds her, rearranging some goods and bullion they’d promised Edelgard weeks ago.

Makes polite small talk. Helps Marianne with the lighter goods. Fleche is being held in a box iced with magic, to preserve her for the journey, and Claude finally comes up with an excuse to see her. A kid, still in pigtails, her hair carefully cleaned and brushed.

After a while, he leaves again.

Jeralt had told Byleth to look around camp and get to know their new company, and so she had, taking note of the number of mounted soldiers and Pegasi (lower than typical), mages (average), wyvern (high), and archers (very high). Each lord of the Alliance, great and small, had sent at least a few men. Riegan, Goneril, and Gloucester more. Many were mercenaries, which was typical for the Alliance, who could pay for men more easily than field them. Defenses were adequate, supplies and pay were good.

Jeralt frowns when she reports back. He had meant the other kind of get to know.

Byleth makes another circuit of the camp.

Lindhart returns to the camp a few weeks later with a chest full of books and a letter from the Emperor, both of which Claude immediately requisition for himself.

“I thought you weren’t coming back?” Hilda asks, catching Lindhart in the mess a little later. “Wasn’t the whole point of Claude sending you back to the Empire you getting to go home and not keep loitering around camp with us?”

“Why would I want to do that?” Lindhart asks, puzzled, reading one of the books he’d taken before Claude could get his hands on it. “Edelgard would just send me to fight on the front lines. As a prisoner of war, I can sleep all day.”

“Well, now you’re just tempting fate,” His Royal Highness, Claude, Duke of Riegan, first of his fake name, additional titles to be figured out at a later date, says, plopping himself down on the bench opposite Lindhart and Hilda. “Front line medics are in high demand, and I’m quite touched by this display of loyalty to the Federation. What’re you reading?”

“Kings should be open handed and generous with their belongings,” Lindhart says, not looking up from his stolen book.

“Is everything cool with the Empire?” Hilda asks, concerned: she hasn’t heard anything in the hours that Lindhart has been back, and camp gossip has been getting wild lately: half of the army thinks the alliance with the Empire is just a lie to keep them from invading again, and the other half thinks the same thing except for the lie part.

Holst calls it pragmatism: the Federation is still plenty mad at Edelgard for starting the war in the first place, but they’d smacked her on the nose and played the bigger man in offering terms. Baltie says it’s all a trick, and that Claude didn’t wipe out two Imperial armies and generals accidentally. Marianne, meanwhile, thinks it’s all a hopeful sign, recent Fleche debacle aside: peace and alliances are a good thing. Hilda, who once saw Claude enact petty revenge on Lorenz six months after the fact, figures all the gossip is probably true.

“Forgive and forget,” Claude says lightly, taking a bite of a pear. “We don’t mention Edelgard sanctioned an attempt on my most-important life in violation of our treaty, and in return we get to invade the Kingdom.”

“Uh, usually, when you say in return, you get something nice back, not a brand new war.”

“Who says destroying the Central Church isn’t a reward? Certainly not her Imperial Highness.”

On Claude’s orders, the army packs up and heads to the North Sea to await some mysterious fleet of ships.

“When I heard beach, I had something else in mind,” Shez grumbles: the shoreline is rocky, beach pebbled, and the ocean itself is reliably freezing. She kicks a couple of rocks to illustrate her point.

“Yeah, this is…” Leonie sighs. Not that she doesn’t have more important things to do than sit on a sunny beach and swim, you understand. Even still. She shivers, as a cold wind picks up.

“I think it’s pretty,” Byleth announces, having previously announced that she prefers her given name to The Ashen Demon, or that girl with no facial expressions; she’s not that bad, I promise. Ever since the women had gone with Jeralt and Alois to Leonie’s village for a couple of days, they’d been thick as thief-hunting mercenaries, and recently Byleth had been experimenting with having and expressing opinions.

“It’s super pretty!” Leonie hastens to reassure her. “In a sort of bleak, end of the world kind of way.” She looks out at the water. She’s never actually seen the ocean before, and it’s a little bit of a let down: you can see land off in the distance, and the waves are small and choppy. She knows they’re in small bay, that this isn’t what the whole ocean looks like. Still.

“I guess we could try to go swimming,” Shez says doubtfully. “It’d probably make for great endurance training.”

“You three crack me up,” Hilda says cheerfully, crunching up to the forlorn with a parasol and beach towel slung over her arm.

“Hildaaaa, we wanna go to the fun ocean!” Shez whines, making grabby hands. “Take us to the fun ocean, please?”

Holst announces that it’ll be a week or so before the mysterious secret transport ships arrive to pick them up, and that they’re all officially on light duties until then. They’re kind of in the middle of nowhere, which puts a damper on the free vacation, but Ignatz at least is excited. Once tents are set up and ditches dug, he changes out of his armor and extracts his pencils and sketchbook to do some sketches: he’s always loved the vast, barren landscape of the sea and rocky shore. Like he’s on another world, in a different time.

He takes a leisurely walk through the scrub grass and over boulders the size of castles before he reaches the ocean itself, walking along the shore and looking out at the water. He hears voices: women chatting, and Raphael’s distinctive boom. Sees them a minute later and almost turns back around, blushing, but Hilda spots Ignatz first and summons him over instead.

They’re sunbathing on cloaks and in small-clothes — Leonie in shorts and chemise, Shez in almost nothing, Raphael a gleaming mountain of muscle. Hilda is under a parasol, in a frilly swim-suit, sipping a fruity drink.

That the day is cloudy goes without saying. “It’s not bad,” Leonie says doubtfully. “All these rocks underneath make it kind of like some kind of massage.”

“Next time, we’ll ask Claude to invade somewhere warmer,” Hilda jokes.

Ignatz sketches a posing Hilda, praying Holst won’t happen along them. Byleth is taking a nap. She snores.

Bernadetta is located in an old drying shed and brought, protesting, to Claude’s tent. By this point, most of the camp had long since forgotten she was another of the Federation’s prisoners of war, although Marianne chances a wave as Bernadetta and Holst pass.

Claude is much smaller than Holst, which makes him a bit less frightening. But it’s apples and pears. Dragons and wyverns. Death by fire or by drowning. He says hello and Bernadetta squeaks.

“Sure,” he says.

They’ve been camped in and around a fishing village for a week now, and Claude’s tent is twice the size of the others, as befits his status. The inside is bare but for a pile of crates and a bed. Both are piled with books. She spots his relic, Failnaught, leaning against the cot.

“Did you know your father has been named the new Archbishop of the Church?” Claude asks. He passes her a sealed letter and an opened one. She recognizes her father’s handwriting on the first. “Edelgard is asking for your return. I told her she could have Lindhart as well.”

Bernadetta wants to read the letters just as much as she wants to go swimming in the North Sea, fight in another battle, go home, stay here, talk to Claude, or talk to her father. Which is all to say, she doesn’t. Her hands are shaking.

Claude is waiting for her to say something. Anything, really. He has more than half a mind to keep her, if only because bargaining chips seldom come stronger than the Empire’s preferred Archbishop’s daughter. But he’s willing to hear her out. Unlike Linhardt, Bernadetta hasn’t exactly made herself at home in the Federation. If she truly wants to return home… favors owed can be almost as good as prisoners.

She says nothing. Just stares wide-eyed at her feet.

“Okay. Well. You’re welcome to wait out the war in peace,” he says. “I’ve spoken with Margrave Edmund and he will take custody of you —“

There is a knock on the canvas of Claude’s tent. Bernadetta watches him spring up. “Come in!”

It’s Holst. And Shez. “Ships ahoy!” Shez says. Her hair is in a very messy ponytail, and the backs of her arms and neck are red with the imprint of beach rocks.

She walks Bernadetta back to her drying shed. The ships are distant, but visible in the bay, and the camp has sprung into sudden life of packing and shouted commands. The first few smaller boats have landed, bearing banners of green and gold.

“Um,” says Bernadetta. “What banners are those?”

One of Shez’s particular skills is being able to identify any house’s banners at fifty paces. Particularly while drunk and yelling in the mess hall on a leave day. “Almyra’s,” she says.

The banners show a bowman on horseback. A few are crowned. “Oh,” Bernadetta says.

She really doesn’t want to be the first one to say it.

“It is definitely not weird!” Shez says, which isn’t any better.

“N- no! Not at all!”

Claude does not eat in the mess that evening. He skips dinner entirely. They’re leaving at first light, the camp a flurry of activity. Judith looks everywhere she can think of; asks Shez; Holst; his friends, but there’s no sign of him.

“Are you searching for something?” The Ashen Demon asks her, as Judith prepares to embark on her third lap around the camp.

“The sorry kid calling himself king around here,” she says.

Byleth points off inland, away from the camp and ships.

“I thought you were looking for a lost item,” she confides as they walk together. Byleth pats a satchel she has slung across her body. “There are many lost items around camp.”

Judith notices her facial expression does not change once as she says this.

“How do you know where the boy went off to?” She asks.

“I saw him leave,” Byleth says. “I asked him if this bracelet was his. Is it yours?”

“Never seen it before in my life.”

After crossing a few fields gone fallow, they enter a small stand of trees. Claude is peppering an aspen with arrows. He sees the women from a long way off and thinks briefly of running.

“Faster ways to chop it down, kid,” Judith says. Claude hadn’t drawn any sort of target on the trunk, nor was he aiming at any spot in particular. She sees a second tree he’d been using as an earlier target. “You’re wasting good arrows.”

Claude’s fingers are stiff and bleeding, his arm aching. His cheek is red and raw.

“Can’t a man sulk in peace?” he asks, going back to his bushel of arrows.

“Care to tell me how you got the Almyran royal fleet to play ferry?”

“Take a guess,” he says, his voice stiff. He shakes out his hand, his smile unmoving.

Byleth peers at the aspen, and he peers at her, and Judith watches him, her mouth tight. She doesn’t approve. She’s mad. What else is new? Who approves of anything he does?

I have so many gods damned secrets, he wants to yell. Sometimes he wants to. Just say them all, let it all go at once. Burn everything down. Ruin his own life. King Claude, what a joke, but worse in Almyra. Everything he does, someone dies, someone looks at him like that, with disappointment, with distrust.

The Ashen Demon turns to look at him, her eyes dark and guileless. “These are some nice shots,” she says.

He laughs.

#fe3h fanfic #girl shez and girl byleth as it should be #i was so dubious of shez but i love this dumb gay idiot #no pairings just golden deer being stupid #takes place about halfway thru the golden wildfire route

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the-ikran-man · 2 years ago

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May 29: Fix It/Gift/Ally

Scrambling to join Recom week because we're very late. Combining the days we missed. The rules made it seem fine so, full steam ahead!

WARNINGS:

Mild Blood

Very Animal Like Eating Habits

Pandora Animal Death [Mentioned]

Possible Incorrect Medical Knowledge [We don't know what we're doing]

But other than that, reasonably wholesome stuff between recom mens.

--- ---

"What you piss off this time, lil Dragon?"

"...it hurts."

"I'm sure it does."

"...help."

Dragon's fellow recom quietly sighed, before he leans down to scoop the smaller injured Recom up, humming, "Try to not bleed out on me, okay? I'm not the first aid type."

Dragon let's out a pathetic noise at his words. Like he could really stop himself from bleeding out. For all he knew, most of the damage could be internal, and if it was, there was nothing he himself could do.

"One day you're really going to have to figure out whatever is going on in that head of yours that makes you do this,' Fellow says, "We thought maybe you were doing this on propose, but if it's something medical, you should get looked at before you get yourself killed."

"..don't wanna."

"Course, valid, totally understand, but, you might need help, and shoving your face into Direhorse stomachs and trying to eat Viperwolves, well, isn't doing that. I don't even think it's safe for you to be eating some much uncooked meat."

"...better than what- hiss -they give."

"Your growth says other wise and you know it, Dragon. You're what, 20? And so small."

Dragon grumbles, pressing his jacket harder against his wound. He's been holding it in place to stop the bleeding, but he's really not good at this stuff. How he's kept his head on his shoulders is beyond everyone else.

"You're lucky I'm around or you'd have died a long time ago."

Dragon, rather immaturely blows a raspberry at Fellow in response.

"Geez, what am I going to do with you?"

"...not let pandora kill me."

"That's a little hard, all things considering, you're always running off into it," Fellow says, his tail swishing behind him at the thought of the first time Dragon had done something like this, hopping the fence like he didn't know the meaning of gravity and hunting some poor lonely Direhorse down.

They'd had to drag him off of it kicking, screaming, and hissing.

Fellow had shoved the rubber of his knife handle grip into Dragon's snapping teeth to avoid him biting anyone.

Oddly enough like a dog with rubber bone, that'd had seemed to calm him down somewhat.

Dragon had gifted him with many chewed knife grips after that, Fellow constantly having to replace them.

Most probably would have gotten tired of it, but not him. Dragon and him were as thick as thieves. Pretty loyal to each other on a moon where you weren't sure if you'd live to the next day. Probably helped that Marines tended to stick together.

"Another creature feature gone bad?"

"Pretty sure you used that wrong, but yeah. Could we bother you to patch him up again?"

"Maybe dying will help him not do this."

"..no."

"Right mister invisible, you can't be killed," the doctor said with a serious eye roll, "Put him on the table so I can fix him up."

Fellow trots over to the table with Dragon and carefully set him down.

"Sometimes I'm really tempted to not knock you out before I do this, maybe the pain would make you learn," the doctor says as they prep sedative.

"I'm sure the lecture he's going to get later will make him think a little bit," Fellow says, even if he knows it won't.

Dragon barely winces when he's jabbing in a vein with the sedative.

"You'll be right as rain by the time you wake up," Fellow says, grinning down at Dragon.

"...your smile is baaad."

"And you sound like a goat."

Dragon hisses.

"Good thing I like goats."

"Don't flirt in my work space."

@recom-week

Getting to ramble out a fic about our recom babies really made this fun, can't wait to do more!

#recom week #recomweek #recombinant #recom ocs #avatar way of water #fic

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firsttarotreader · 1 year ago

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"i see nico is out here liking slightly homophobic tweets rooted in stereotypes… but it doesn’t surprise me tbh, she thinks she knows everything about gay men and keeps invading their spaces along with rotisserie" Unlike others, I won't deny their queerness, bisexuality, but as a bisexual woman I feel embarrassed. These are examples of bisexual women thinking they are great allies to gay men and end up being biphobic and homophobic. I should know. My last girfriend was like this. She would aggressively tell me things like "[All] Bisexual men are masculine!" Which bothered the crap out of me. As a fellow bisexual woman, she should have known better, but alas.

I’m sorry, but I will deny their bisexuality because these people are not bi, they just say that to “shield” themselves and say whatever biphobic/homophobic shit they want and go “I am literally bisexual”. No, you’re literally not. You can just notice how every one of the fetishizing weirdos use the same excuse. What a coincidence all of them are bi, right? 🤔🤔🤔

But yeah, in any case, it’s embarrassing as fuck.

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curvylizzie · 4 months ago

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So there’s one thing I wanna get out of the way first

1- cis white men are not oppressed , for the simple fact that their rights are not threatened, they do not feel like they will get jumped or assaulted in the streets, nobody shames you for being a white man, nobody ever says you should try being less white or less masculine in the streets. White men are simply not oppressed. The so called “lonely men epidemic” is very self inflicted by the many men who are “looking for a read wife” or criticizing women in their appearance without being asked, or even becoming violent towards women who reject them. Men simply are not oppressed and that’s why there is no “straight pride” parade for those people

2- queer spaces have they own share of discrimination in themselves like this post just mentioned. Cis men or even bi men on these spaces are always saying how they do not feel welcome and hated by their queer folks. Trans men who were born AFAB say the exact same thing, and depending on the group, there might be an overwhelming amount of pressure to pass as a trans woman. Not only that but being a straight trans woman could be the worse thing you could do sometimes in these spaces. I know being trans myself, whenever I talk about my relationship with people who ask in these spaces, I’m always met with almost disgust or discontent with that fact, and they will proceed to trash talk ALL MEN right in front of me and my partner in one occasion. Queer spaces pride themselves in being open and inclusive spaces, yet they exclude a lot of people who could be potential allies, queer folks who haven’t come out yet, queer folks who HAVE come out and even identify as gay, bisexual, pan, etc.

If we are gonna win this fight against sexism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, we have to start with ourselves first. We are trying to fight a fire with another fire, and unfortunately that just adds to the destruction.

I do not agree with my fellow queers in all these things, everyone has their own opinion and that’s okay! Part of freedom is the ability to form your own opinions and ideas and follow whoever or whatever you want. But if we’re gonna announce and say that we are welcoming and inclusive, then let’s be welcoming and inclusive! That guy that just walked in the group, he could potentially be question his gender or sexuality and you don’t know that yet. If I had walked in those spaces as a cis man, I know for a fact I would’ve been too intimidated to be who I am today

Me: hey there's a big issue with anti-masculinity in queer and leftist spaces. Trans fems, if they don't constantly perform hyperfemininity and aren't little and skinny and white, are demonised and people call them pedophiles because there's such a dislike of any association with masculinity. Trans mascs are told they're "whiny MRAs" when they talk about the oppression they face. Masculine intersex people are erased or told they should just be more feminine if they don't want people to be scared of them for looking masculine. People act like marginalised men (queer men, trans men, men of colour, etc, intersex men) aren't actually marginalised because they're men. The vocal "all men literally ARE evil" rhetoric isn't actually venting when it's constant and public, it's harming marginalised men and is a contributing factor to teens and young cis (often but not always het) going down the alt-right pipeline, and is directly linked with trans people not transitioning or being too scared to transition because by becoming a man they are becoming "the enemy". There's the idea of "women +" or "women and nonbinary," which positions all nonbinary people as 'basically women' or affiliated with femininity, and in practice ends up pushing away anyone who appears or identifies with masculinity, regardless of their gender identity. Butches are treated as if they're just sex toys, or that they're scary and dangerous because of their masc presentation. This is actually a huge, pervasive issue that is further hurting already marginalised people AND is pushing potential allies away because it's making them feel bad for something they can't control (being men.)

Dumbasses: lol op thinks cis men are oppressed by minorities

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9tzuyu · 3 years ago

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who you are

note: mostly made this for my own comfort, but i do hope it helps and/or comforts any fellow lesbians :]. i normally wouldn’t specify sexualities on any characters because obviously everyones going to feel differently about different characters, but like i said this started off for my own comfort bcs i was hashtag goin through it.

prompt: basically just reader struggling to accept themselves as a lesbian. sorry non lesbians :(

warnings: heavy heavy heavy on internalized lesbophobia. talks about comphet (trying to force oneself to like men) and wanting to be ‘normal’

thank u ally for proofreading <3

not tagging anyone just because i don’t want to trigger :[

. . .

you were wrestling with something, natasha could tell that much. your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in a gaze. it wasn’t until the third time tony called your name when you snapped out of it.

“sorry,” you mumbled.

“well are you going to answer the question?”

natasha noted the tapping of your foot, knuckles cracking beneath the table. it was obvious you weren’t in the right state of mind to be answering any kind of question. foolishly, no one else picked up on that except for the redhead.

“what was the question?”

tony sighed, his patience growing thinner by the second.

“i asked if your report was done. it was supposed to be handed in three days ago, remember?”

your foot tapped faster.

“yeah- yeah, i’m almost finished.”

it wasn’t like you to be so late on things like this, you were usually on top of everything.

“you told me you would have it ready by today. this is the fourth time this month that you’ve done this. you’re dragging your ass and the rest of us are getting pretty tired of it.” a collective agreement could be heard from the team. all eyes were on you waiting for a reply.

if you hadn’t felt anxious before, you most definitely did now.

“it won’t happen again.” tony blew off your statement and rolled his eyes. you shifted uncomfortably, nauseous from all the negative attention.

you couldn’t help but wonder if they knew. maybe that’s why they were being so short. it made sense after all.

natasha tried making her way towards you, but she was stopped by steve’s hand on her shoulder. you were well past gone by the time she managed to scramble away from him.

your back pressed flatly against the wall, tears steadily falling down your face. hatred was all you felt. hatred towards yourself.

why couldn’t you be like the rest of them? why didn’t you belong?

whywhywhywhywhywhy

granted, you knew there was absolutely nothing wrong with being gay. that was never the issue. the issue was the fact that it was yourself, that there was no possibility for you to ever be attracted to men.

you were sure it would be a phase, that it would pass, that you would forget about it and never think about it again. you tried to go on dates, tried to form a relationship, tried to enjoy having sex with them. none of it worked, no matter how much you forced yourself to believe it would.

all you could think about was how sick and disgusting you felt. and the shit representation didn’t help your case at all. the media hardly ever portrayed a good, well-rounded lesbian character that wasn’t problematic, over-sexualized or dead.

the media only reiterated the fact that you were supposed to want men. you were supposed to find the right guy and fall in love with him, call him your husband and start a family.

a knock on your door pulled you away from your thoughts. you shuffled your way back to your feet, drying your eyes for good measurement.

natasha stood patiently, eyes drilled on your doorknob. if it were up to her she’d be picking your lock, but she knew that would be crossing a boundary. she went to knock again when your door swung open.

“hi nat.”

“hey,” her voice was soft. “you’ve been crying...” she pressed her hand against your face, thumb rubbing the top of your cheekbone.

you shrugged. it wasn’t like you could deny her, your red eyes had already given away the truth. “yeah.”

she hummed, “may i come in?”

you hesitantly moved out of the way to let her through, cursing at yourself for finding her so attractive.

“you know you can talk to me, you always do. why haven’t you said anything?” natasha moved to sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve grown quiet these past few days, it’s not like you.”

“i’m just tired, worn out from work i suppose.”

she nodded, though she knew better than to believe such a lie. natasha could always tell when you were lying, something you both hated and loved at the same time.

you sat next to her after a friendly tap on the bed. her gaze made you feel like a little kid in trouble. it was as if she already knew and was prepared to say the worse.

“i don’t believe you.”

“well, i don’t know what you want me to tell you, nat.”

“how about the truth?” you scoffed purely out of defense. “and what good would that do?”

“it might relieve whatever you’ve got on your heart.” you met natasha’s eyes and your lip immediately began to quiver.

“i’m afraid you won’t be able to look at me the same.”

she softened, taking your hand in hers. “there’s nothing in the world that would change the way i see you.”

“you say that now, nat, but-”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it.”

you thought about it further. natasha had never been one to judge someone based on the things they’ve been through, the things they’ve done or the things that make them who they are. she saw people the way they were, nothing more, nothing less.

but what if she didn’t like you or see you the way you were? you weren’t sure you could handle the aftermath if that were to be the case. it was bad enough you struggled to accept yourself, natasha’s disapproval would only break you.

“i’m a lesbian.” a lump in your throat began to form and you found yourself crying once more. “i tried so hard, i tried everything i could think of, but i can’t, i don’t like men.”

you coughed, choking on your words.

“i don’t understand, nat! i don’t understand why i can’t be normal. why can’t i do it? if i just liked men i would be okay, i would be fine, i would be fucking accepted.” you paused for a breath of air. “i just want to be normal.”

natasha was taken back by your confession. it was nothing near what she thought it would be. she expected you to tell her you’d been stressed or that you were scared for the next mission.

“i’m sorry, i-”

the spy quickly cupped your face, tilting your chin upwards as a hint to meet her eyes again.

“look at me, c’mon, hey. you have nothing to be sorry for, don’t ever think that you do. i love you for who you are. there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. you’re normal, you’re who you are, who you’re supposed to be. you are real. i promise you are.”

without thinking you leaned into natasha, clinging on to her for dear life. her arms found their way around your body, hands rubbing your back up and down.

“you should be proud to be who you are, not ashamed. and if you’re not proud of yourself then please know that i am. i am so, so, incredibly proud of you, sweetheart.” she finger brushed your hair as you continued to cry. “shhh, you’re alright baby. i’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this alone.”

“it’s okay nat.” she gave your body a small squeeze, frowning at your response. “you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to force yourself to be someone or something you’re not. you don’t deserve to struggle so much for your own acceptance as a lesbian.”

you nodded, though she could tell you weren’t fully convinced. “the only opinions you should care about are your own and the people you love and cherish. i know that’s easier said than done, but it’s true. besides, what you told me just gives me something more to love about you.” natasha finished off with a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“this means a lot to me, nat. thank you, for everything really.”

“oh sweetheart i should be thanking you for trusting me with such an important part of you are.” you shied away, a growing smile forming on your face as you leaned into her shoulder.

natahsa smirked, clearly aware of the effect she had on you. “who knew you could be so cute?”

“nattttt.”

she rose her hands up in surrender, “alright, alright. i’ll stop on one condition.”

“what’s that?” you mumbled.

“would you let me take you out for dinner tonight? i’ll show you just how beautiful it is to be with a woman.”

“yeah, yes- yes please, that’s fine.” natasha could’ve sworn she heard your heartbeat quicken and she had to refrain from letting out a small laugh at your flustered state.

“we need to clear that little mind of yours. i’ll be back here at seven on the dot, okay?” a pat on the leg caught your senses as you watched her stand. the last thing natasha heard was the soft “okay” fall from your lips as she walked out the door.

you’d never been happier to be a lesbian in your life by the end of the night.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

294 notes · View notes

babesonly · 4 years ago

Text

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny.

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

An ethics lesson from Hell

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

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

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

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want?

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god.

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

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nhaamazu · 2 years ago

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FFXIVWrite 2022 - Day 5 - Cutting Corners

Lord Haurchefant returns home to find a welcome stranger has beaten him there.

(Raehn is not the Warrior of Light, but rather one of her frequent party members, fellow Echo-bearing Scion and and closest ally).

Since the Scions had moved their headquarters to Revenant Toll, the place had become a veritable hub of activity. Adventurers, eager to support the group that had ushered in the eighth astral era, or merely wide-eyed travellers, hoping to catch a glimpse of the newly-christened Warrior of Light.

This pleased Haurchefant for many reasons. For one, he considered the Warrior a dear friend, and it pleased him to see her efforts celebrated so. For another, the demands on Camp Dragonhead had only grown as a result, and with them the ties to not only the Adventurer's Guild, but also the Scions themselves. It may have been but a small step on the road to a united Eorzea, but it was a step all the same. And when Ishgard finally did throw open its gates, all would know the part that House Fortemps played in the matter.

Alas, he was a man stretched to his very limits by the many new demands such endeavours placed upon his time. Why, he even missed a visit from the Warrior of Light herself; a nigh unforgivable sin.

His deputies quickly learned which meetings to arrange, which to redirect and which requests to ignore completely. Soon enough, he was able to arrange that long-delayed trip into Ishgard to deliver a report to the Count de Fortemps in person for once.

The night before his trip, he arrived late back at camp with snow fully settled into the rings of his chainmail. His heart and his toes yearned for the warmth of his own hearth, and when he arrived at the door of his chambers he wondered if he shouldn't call for a steaming bath to help chase away the threat of frostbite.

Yet something curious awaited him beyond the door.

You see, he was sure he had locked his window, but mayhap the latch had caught, for the guards would not have allowed anyone to pass, let alone one clad in the clear garb of an adventurer.

Raehn warmed himself by the fireside, shivering still, though his coat had already dried.

"I don't know how you stand this weather," he huffed, each bitter word caressed by that melodic accent of his. Haurchefant had always meant to ask from where it came, but the right moment had never presented itself. Or rather, when it had, something far better had been on the table; something far less accommodating of speech.

"I am sure walking through the front door would have been easier, my friend.”

Raehn rose, peeling off his gloves and twisting free the large buttons of his coat. The fur at the edge of his long ears was damp around the edges, as were the ends off his chestnut hair.

“I tried to get an appointment,” he said. “But I was told you had nothing for weeks - and this is a matter of great urgency.”

Haurchefant had never seen the man so anxious.

“I do believe that is called ‘cutting corners’, but for you I am always inclined to make an exception. Pray tell, whatever is the matter?”

The viera rubbed the back of his neck and cocked his head to the side. His coat remained on, albeit wide open.

“I need some of that...cake...thing... The one you served last time I was here.”

Haurchefant could not quell the smile that twisted his lips.

“You broke into my private chambers...for Sohm Al Tart?”

“It’s Avelyn’s birthday in two days! I...forgot. And she has a sweet tooth. Come on, Haurch...please?”

It was adorable. There was no other way to phrase it. An adventurer of no small repute, here in a state of disarray, over a gift for his best friend.

With soft steps, he approached the fretting man.

“Well,” said Haurchefant. “You did not say this was for the Warrior of Light. And I do so enjoy finding handsome men in my chambers. Mayhap just...call next time?”

The corners of Raehn’s mouth twisted into a smile that made redundant the roaring fire next to them.

“No breaking into your room,” said Raehn, leaning into the fingers that brushed ever so gently against his cheek. “Got it.”

“Now, now...I would not go so far.”

#ffxivwrite2022 #haurchefant greystone #Warrior of Light #FFXIV #wolchefant

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man-squared · 6 months ago

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[ ID: Tumblr tags that read "# When my post about top surgery blew up # I got an ask saying 'do we really need more white men?' # I am begging you all to think with your brain and break down this gender essentialism you've got going on." End ID. ]

Trans community, you are not avoid of transphobia because you are trans. You cannot say statements that come from transphobia and be absolve of your transphobia because you aren't cisgender.

And one more point, why the fuck is it okay to do the transmisogynistic "allowing men in women's spaces" when it's your siblings (some who aren't even men or are multiple genders as well) you are doing the transmisogyny on? Do you all hear yourselves? Do you want all trans people who aren't cis-passing white trans women to vanish?

I say this to all trans people who are doing this, not just the cis-passing white trans women, because we all know how many notes on transmasc's page end up with redfems and trans transphobes alike saying the exact same things, and a lot of the time, it's coming from fellow transmascs. And I'm just going to point this out, "beating" your fellow transmascs into submission into "good little men who do manhood right" with harassment and violence (on- and offline) is a core trait of toxic masculinity.

To any trans women doing this (or TMA or whatever), you should know better. To any transmascs doing similar to other trans people, fucking do better. All this infighting is going to get us erased, and all the people who hate us ALL are pointing and laughing at us, no matter if we infight or not.

You need to stop defining your queerness, your transness, your identities by hatred and what you hate. It's tainting your community and is so individualistic in turn. What are you going to do when you shove everyone out of your community and there is no one left to commune with or ally with against bigotry?

sorry since realizing my gender i have zero tolerance for the whole “man hating” angle of being queer i hate i hate it i hate you. stop. you are hurting people.

#long #trans #tgnc #trans m&ms #transmisogyny #misogyny #man² #gender #men #queer #exclusion #experience #lateral aggression #essentialism #community #communication #queer community #trans community

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thefoxholestuff · 3 years ago

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Ok ok ok so. Idea (may or may not be based off recent events go check out my main @mknevershutsup if you‘re curious).

Y‘all know that Queer Person Thing where you see someone wearing pride merch in public and you’re like !!! fellow gay??? O shit they’re kinda cute I should let them know somehow that I am also a Fellow Gay!! But how?? I shall compliment the pride thing!!!

…but how?

Ya know that feeling?

I present to you: Neil works at a coffee shop. Andrew is a regular. Neil is just figuring out his identity and wears a lot of rainbow stuff to work (pins, beanies, etc) because his friends gave him stuff after he came out (he doesn’t quite know what he is yet but he sure as hell ain’t straight) and he likes it, it makes him feel like he belongs somewhere. Cue Andrew awkwardly trying to communicate to Neil that he’s into men and specifically into Neil by aggressively complimenting whatever rainbow thing he’s wearing that day.

Neil just. Cannot figure out what the hell is going on. He figures at first that Andrew is just a really overenthusiastic ally and kinda goes ‘well he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit, good for him I guess?’ But the compliments get steadily more persistent and obvious and accompanied by ever more furious flushing on the tips of Andrew’s ears (because Neil’s coworker and best friend Matt pulls Andrew aside when he starts getting worried about whether he’s made Neil uncomfortable and goes ‘look buddy idk if he’s into you or not. He doesn’t know either. He hasn’t considered it because he is not picking up what you are putting down. You gotta be more obvious). And Neil kind of starts to think Andrew is making fun of him and starts getting kinda snappy back, which backfires because we all know how Andrew feels about Neil’s smart mouth.

Renee, Dan, and Allison have to hold an intervention before the situation can escalate. Neil needs it explained to his face, with exasperated testimonials from Aaron and Nicky. Kevin frogmarches Andrew into the coffee shop the next day and sends him up to the counter (this is only allowed because Andrew doesn’t actually know yet about the intervention and hey, he doesn’t really want Kevin interrupting his attempts to talk to Neil anyway).

Neil smirks at him, nods towards the rainbow sticker Renee snuck onto his sleeve (because y’all know Renee is the only one who can sneak up on Andrew), and says “I like your sticker. Wanna go out sometime?”

Andrew stands there blinking for a full 3 seconds.

When he says yes, half the coffee shop shouts at him that he would have saved them all a lot of trouble if he had said the exact same thing a month and a half ago.

#Andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #Coffee shop AU #Can you tell that I’m currently pining after a barista who wears a lot of pride stuff #and have recently made an utter fool of myself by aggressively complimenting said pride stuff #I got less embarrassed when I realize that Andrew probably would do that too so here you go #I know it could be argued that this is ooc but LISTEN #Andrew is the one who pines for months and eventually. reluctantly. disclosed that he would maybe have sex with Neil if he wanted #it was up to NEIL to figure out that Andrew had feelings for him #but once he did and once he figured out that those feelings were reciprocated #boy did NOT hesitate. He went for it.#Neil is the confident one if only because he’s just too goddamn literal not to be #Andrew is the disaster gay

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writer-akihiko · 4 years ago

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All For Her - Kennyo X Reader X Yandere!Nobunaga

ACTUAL ENDING, ALTERNATE ENDING

So this fic is in celebration of mah boi Kennyo getting his English route finally! @silhouette-of-a-dream thank you for your input. I hope this fic is a good kick to Nobunaga’s ego [please do not come after me nobunaga stans]

I’m glad to be back and writing for asks. Thank you to all the IkeSen readers who liked my previous headcanons. Also, to the Nobunaga stans, please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and actual not-yandere Nobunaga would not do this.

TW: Yandere, Implications of Emotional Abuse

"How would you like to rule the world by my side?"

Those words…

Those words were your death sentence.

~○~

There he stood, the great daimyo of Owari as you humbly sat next to him, the veil shielding your gaze from your surrounding and the gaze of others from you. It had always been like this. Nobunaga was a possessive man, and you being deemed as his 'lucky charm' was no means of him letting go.

Feeling the atmosphere weighing down on you, you tugged on Nobunaga's sleeve, muttering about your need to leave. Nobunaga was a proud man, and what else could he do then to carry you away bridal-style in front of all his allies and his vassals?

"I will take my bride to rest. Celebrate without me."

He ignored the protests of Hideyoshi and whisked you away to his bed. For being the Devil King of the Sixth Heaven, his touch was gentle. The words he'd say have that edge that raised the hairs of your neck, especially when he untangles your hair with his fingers.

"Just wait my lucky charm. The wars are about to end soon…" He said, undoing your obi. "Then there would be no one brave enough to take you away from me. They'd be foolish enough to try in the first place."

~○~

The next morning you woke up, you were sore in your lower region. And alone. Of course he left you. The love bites he left on your neck started to ache as you looked around the room. He must've had another war council… You shrugged it off, getting dressed with the remains of what your kimono was.

Before you could get up, a hustle of maids stormed in, in their arms were heaps of fabric and cosmetics.

"Lady YN, Lord Nobunaga wishes for you to dress for the evening," Your most loyal maid, Kinu, announced to you.

Of course, that's how it always was.

He'd let you wander around ever so freely in the morning, but it was all a trap. Whatever guards he sent out to follow you were to only escort anyone whose gaze lingered too far to be sent to the dungeon; no questions asked. It was the only form of freedom he ever gave you, but it benefitted him in his own twisted, cynical tyranny.

"Kinu, please give me my formal wear," You asked her politely. Kinu nodded, ordering the other maids to prepare for you to walk around town.

The maids had brought you a simple kimono for you to wear, although its fabric was far from cheap. As your maids adjusted your hood, Nobunaga's loyal right hand man, Hideyoshi Toyotomi, entered the tenshu by your permission.

"Does Lord Nobunaga need me Hideyoshi-san?" You addressed him. Hideyoshi sighed, unsure of your attitude at the moment. As much as he was happy for you and his lord, your change in personality made it all so strange. Was his lord not enough for you? Or was he too much? As much as he wanted to interrogate, Nobunaga was strict upon the rules about his future bride.

He shook his head. "Not in particular. He will be busy today and I overheard you were going out today," He said, fishing out a bag of coins from his kimono. "This is Masamune's payment from last week, YN. He's a bit busy wrangling with some pirates to repay you properly… You can use it to go shopping today if you'd like."

You accepted the coins graciously, not daring to life your head to meet Hideyoshi's eyes. For as much as Nobunaga had faith in his vassals, you didn't know what he'd do if he heard of your entanglement with another warlord friend of his. You were protecting them, you whispered to yourself.

After Hideyoshi left you, you wrote a note, leaving it with Kinu before you went out. You had to inform the other seamstresses of your absence for today. It wasn't truly unusual for you to be gone, but you had to be courteous towards them. Perhaps you could purchase some fabric for them in return…

Four guards trailed after you. They were a different batch this time; from their uniforms you could guess they were under Mitsunari's regime. You walked on, ignoring the chatter of those guards and simply looked over the goods the merchants of Azuchi had to offer. There wasn't much for you to see, having walked around town at least once a week for you to see the same goods here and there.

You however, did notice a small shrine, just right on the outskirts of Azuchi as you went to purchase your usual sweet buns. You turned to the guards behind you, repeating your request to them as they were dumfounded the first time you said it.

"I said, I would like to go to the temple there. I wish to offer my prayers," You said promptly, staring down the guards. "Unless I have to report to Nobunaga of your mistreatment of me."

Well, being his lover had its advantages.

The guards sweat dropped, knowing what awaited them if you snitched on them. They gave a knowing look to each other. Surely it wouldn't be so bad for the lady to offer some prayers for the sake of Azuchi right?

You walked up the corroded steps of the temple, finally approaching its gates. What a pity, you thought to yourself, seeing as how the wells were empty and the bushes were unkempt. You wouldn't comment on such things out loud, but you'd love to clean up and return to the shrine someday… That is, if that war tyrant would let you.

You had noticed that there was no pail for you to offer your prayers to. Surely, there must be some in the storeroom in the shrine…

"Lady YN! Watch―"

Before you knew it, you had a sword to your neck. The cold steel made you shiver.

"Pure maiden, what are you doing here?"

Your usual instinct would make you cry out for help, but your pride won't even allow you to seek help from anyone associated with Nobunaga.

"I came to offer my prayers."

"This is not a functioning shrine," The man who had his blade towards you pressed the steel further, but he didn't cut you. Instead, he walked around you to see your face. The purple robes and that scar across his face was all the characteristics for you to realise that the man who held his staff to you was Kennyo, the monk you met in the forest.

His stare was cold, but his eyes widened, recognising you. He removed the staff from your neck, and commanded the disguised men that subdued your guards to tie them up.

He turned back to you, asking you of your identity. "You are the future bride of Oda and the woman that appeared in the fire?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Then I shall have to apologise for kidnapping you at the― My apologies, 'Unfortunately'? Did I hear you right?" Kennyo asked, realising what your reply meant. Would this be beneficial? He had to admit, Nobunaga was a lucky man now that he took a good look at you but no regular woman of Azuchi could resist that demon's wiles.

Kennyo sent his men off, wanting to speak to you alone. You didn't seem like you would run away, but he still had to use you to carry out his plan. He was quite taken aback at your apathetic state. He was sure you would cause a fuss after your guards were taken down, but you were relatively calm at the moment by the way you were just sitting at the edge of the shrine steps rather calmly. Mike also approached you and you started to coddle him quite affectionately. Kennyo felt oddly warm inside, unsure how he should tell you that he meant to kidnap you.

You got the monk's attention by calling out to him, "Kennyo-san, you were talking about kidnapping me?" You said, stroking the adorable calico cat in your arms.

"I apologise for that statement," Kennyo coughed, relieved you snapped him out of his trance. "I would have to use you to carry out my plan."

You smiled, finding his honesty quite charming. "Well, I guess I have nothing better to do," You said quite boldly. "Kennyo-san, let me make this clear. I am not assisting you because I believe in your cause. I only wish to get away from Nobunaga, so please, after my part is done, let me go."

"Eh? Nobunaga is that bad in bed that you left him?" Another man approached you two, and you heard Kennyo sigh beside you. The man must've been an ally of Kennyo…

"Motonari…"

"What? You surely took your sweet time with the lady," He said, teasing the fellow monk.

"Well," You said, unsure how to insert yourself in the conversation. "This means I will work with you, Kennyo-san, Motonari-san."

~○~

"Kennyo-san? You called for me?" You said, entering his room. You had moved to Kennyo's official base, as the shrine near Azuchi was for Kennyo to oversee his wounded brothers.

Kennyo tensed up at your voice. Why did he call you again? He was a monk for the lord's sake, not some cheeky soldier…

"About your release…" He began. 'I don't want you to go…' He wanted to say. He couldn't, drinking his tea to stop himself from saying such embarrassing things. You were Nobunaga's betrothed. More so, you deserved better, especially with what you had been through.

"What about it?" You said, pouring more tea into Kennyo's empty cup. "I assume my duties were fulfilled then?"

"Yes," he said. "Your knowledge of medicine saved some of my brothers as well. I have to compensate you for that. Please ask for anything you want."

Anything you wanted? Those words struck a chord in you. Those words were what Nobunaga told you the first night he claimed you as his future bride. You remembered what you asked for and Nobunaga as the skilful warlord he is, cut down your request of freedom too.

Then came Nobunaga giving anything and everything he could to ensure your happiness. The point where it frightened you was when he presented the dead body of a vassal of his underling who had wronged you. His blood-covered sword was more than enough proof that Nobunaga had done the deed himself, even as he professed he killed the man in front of his whole council.

"Lady YN? Did I say something wrong?"

Kennyo's warm hands reached out to you, brushing away the tears that ran down your cheek. On instinct, you nestled into his large hands, looking at the man who had saved you from your nightmare.

"Kennyo-san, what would you do if I said I wanted you?"

You made the holy monk blush, his hand immediately retracted from your face as he blurted out all the reasons you should retract those words, "I am not worthy of your attention, Lady YN. I am no longer a man and instead I shoulder the sins that a demon such as myself are willing to commit. You are certainly ill if you think you could love a demon."

You simply laughed at his boyish shyness. "Kennyo… I am not pure as you think I am," You said, patting his head. "I'm sorry I blanked out. When you asked me to request anything, it reminded me of something similar Nobunaga said to me…"

You then explained all the horror you went through at Azuchi from Nobunaga. "He may not have harmed me physically but I can't help but be scared…" You said, finally giving in to your tears. "It must be silly for you isn't it? A person such as me confessing at a time like this…"

"You poor girl…" Kennyo brought you into his arms, claiming his finally resolve. "I will fulfil your request, Lady YN. For I too, love you more than anything else."

~○~

No matter how long you'd been in the Sengoku era, you still hated the cries of wars. You hated it, but not as much as the man who lead the Oda.

Seeing a young man in red return to camp, you immediately jumped at him. "Yukimura! Did you get any news of Kennyo?"

You were sent off to stay with the Takeda army as a form of alliance with Kennyo shortly after Kennyo's war preparations. Shingen and Yukimura had been hospitable to you, and you more than delighted to be reunited with your friend Sasuke from the Uesugi faction.

The Akazonae leader shook his head, almost regretting his words as he told you, "Some of my men said he finally confronted the Devil himself."

Amongst the bloodied war cries and the crumpled bodies of soldiers were two sworn enemies finally crossed blades.

"Your death will surely be my greatest victory," Nobunaga cried, swinging his sword at the monk. "The people would find it heroic how I rescued my bride from the Ikko Ikki's leader―"

"You defiled her!" Kennyo roared, unsheathing his staff. He blocked the rampant parries of the Devil King. "And you think that's love!"

"Of course," Nobunaga said smugly, dodging Kennyo's swing. "This war…

It's all for her."

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen kennyo #ikemen sengoku kennyo #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #yandere ikemen sengoku #yandere ikesen #kennyo #nobunaga oda #ikesen nobunaga

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molsno · 1 year ago

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DO they make a good point, though? because they seem to have drawn some strange conclusions about what I must really be talking about.

did you know that when I was growing up, I didn't have a word for people like me? I wouldn't hear the word "transgender" until I was a teenager, nor could I even conceive of the possibility that such a word might apply to me. but I did see a lot of jokes about how disgusting and creepy men who dressed up as women were. they were everywhere, even in children's cartoons. it was so prevalent that eventually, the word I learned for such people was "pervert", with all of the baggage that comes with it. and yet, I inexplicably found myself drawn to such perverts. I looked up to them, and why wouldn't I? their mere existence showed me that a future where I was free to live the way that would make me happiest was possible. this post, which I wrote when I was high, was an attempt at making peace with the label that was forced upon people like me all my life.

now, of course, I understand why people called us and continue to call us perverts. it's because our existence poses the greatest threat to the patriarchy. they know accusing us of posing a sexual danger to more vulnerable people is a great way to drum up outrage against us. the more transmisogynist oppression we suffer, the safer patriarchal dominance is within society.

so, let me ask, who exactly did doboke mean by "they"? because this post was explicitly about trans women, and I think that on some level, they were aware of that. when people hear "pervert", they tend to imagine some ghastly man in a skimpy dress - their idea of a trans woman - usually performing whatever unsavory kink they personally find the most abhorrent; in this case, it was raceplay.

this post was not about raceplay. not in the slightest. in fact, I'm really fucking tired of how often this accusation gets thrown at trans women. it has no basis in reality. I've talked to dozens of trans women about kinks, and I've never met a single one who was into raceplay. just about all of them are uncomfortable with the mere thought of it, as am I. I don't doubt that there are some trans women who are into it, especially on sites like 4chan, but the vast majority are not. however, often when we attempt to talk about this, we're accused of being liars, and told that we're all shielding each other from these accusations so we can continue to engage in raceplay freely. this line of thinking is, frankly, extremely conspiratorial. trans women aren't a monolith, there are plenty who would expose other trans women if these allegations held any truth to them whatsoever.

you might be thinking, "if you don't know any trans women who are into raceplay, then why is this such a common accusation?" it's because, as I said above, people find us threatening, and they feel the need to protect more vulnerable people from us. that's exactly what happened here. doboke saw a post about me expressing my love for trans women amidst a wave of always-present transmisogynistic rhetoric that seeks to cast us as degenerate perverts who pose a threat to the rest of society, and they decided to get in on the action by accusing me of supporting raceplay in order to drum up outrage against me and other trans women.

I tend to assume good faith in a lot of cases, and although I can't be sure that doboke isn't just a blatant transmisogynist since they blocked me immediately after posting their response, I do think they genuinely believed that they were protecting their fellow black people by responding the way they did. I don't think they're wrong for wanting to do that. I do too - I'm constantly working to be as good of an ally to black people as I can be. however, casting sexual menace on trans women is only going to harm black trans women the most. I've seen it over and over. people who think trans women are sexual degenerates aren't going to look at a black trans woman and say "oh, she's black, so she has NORMAL sexual preferences". quite the opposite in fact - she's going to be subjected to MORE transmisogynistic violence specifically due to the way her race intersects with her transness.

I just want people to use more critical thinking skills when it comes to things that activate their disgust reaction, ESPECIALLY when trans women are involved. these types of reactions to disgust have real world consequences on us, including violence. and at a time when trans women are already facing extreme amounts of violence by people who despise the very fact that we even exist, what good comes from adding more fuel to the fire?

it was always the so-called perverts in life that you felt the safest around. because the normal people always made you do things you didn't want to do and made you feel afraid and ashamed for existing. you always learned to run and hide from them. but perverts? they always let you have fun. they always let you do things you wanted to do. they never made you do anything you didn't want to do. you liked being yourself around them because they were nice to you. but remember: it's important to hate perverts. why? ummmm........

#transmisogyny #my writing

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lemystical-puffle · 4 years ago

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My A3 Sexuality Headcanons that no one asked for!

[These won’t include Gender, only sexual orientation or lack thereof(is that a phrase?)]

Color coordination

Gay

Pan

Aro

Hetero

Sakuya Sakuma: Pansexual! He doesn’t have any preferences, honestly after his childhood he just wants someone who will love and accept him!

Masumi: Bisexual. I feel like he would love the director whether they be boy, girl, other, all, he just wants someone to give him attention, and that person just happened to be out beloved Izumi Tachibana.

Tsuzuru: okay this ones me projecting but whatever Aro/Ace Tsuzuru. He doesn’t feel romantic attraction, and instead just feels a family-brotherly kind of love towards his friends and fellow actors. He doesn’t really want to romantically be with someone, and yet instead just wants to be there for them when they need it and love them the same way he loves his family at home

Citron: Also pan!! But Pan-Romantic specifically. Citron literally just wants to love everyone ever because he’s just awesome like that, but won’t go pass kissing someone. It just makes him uncomfortable which is perfectly fine because he is Citron Lastname! But yeah, also no gender prefermance

Itaru: Bi with a male preference. I can’t really explain why I think this, I just do. Maybe because most of the woman he has ever shown interest in are his 2D anime waifus. Also I mean come on he totally had a whole thing for Lancelot he thinks knights are hot and that is so valid.

Chikage: he is a gay cabbage. Listen the only time he has said he liked a woman it was because he said they weren’t like his mom and I am just- I’m sorry I don’t trust that. This man is a gay, he is never had a boyfriend but he has definitely thought of hooking up with his boss for a raise, thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

Tenma: Also bi! Bi-Ace specifically. I wasn’t really sure where to put him because on one hand I feel like he has a lot of MLM energy but on the other hand his solo song so I just, bi. I feel like his gay awakening came when he played the token gay best friend in a romcom because gay actor erasure but Tenma didn’t really understand, but later he was in a scene where he was with his boyfriend who shows up for one second to remind the audience he’s a homosexual and Tenma was just: crap he’s not

Yuki: okay at first I didn’t know what to put for Yuki cause on one hand sexuality erasure Yuki has specifically said he likes girl and he defies stereotypes and stuff but on the other hand he never said he didn’t like boys so he’s bi with a female preference. I feel like Yuki is the kind of guy to just happen to fall in love with whoever and just go “oh crap did I just fall in love?” And while he likes girls more sometimes it just. Happens.

Muku: Surprise surprise he’s Pan! Muku totally reads shoujo manga with all sexualities and is very livid about good representation, will write a “negative review” (and in Muku terms that’s him being very polite, 4.5/5 stars and linking research resources) about how inaccurate a sexuality was portrayed. I feel like at first he just thought he was a very active ally and now he is just: “oh crap boys. And girls. And enbys. And genderfluids. And everyone.”

Misumi: Misumi is very homosexual, which at first he was sad about because homosexual has 2 o’s which are circles but then he realized he can just say gay but spell it like: G🔺Y so he got happy again. I feel like it was one of the reasons he was kicked out of his home, he just likes boys Jeez Ikaruga parents no rights. (I also Headcanon him as autistic but that’s not what this post is about).

Kazunari: In Kazunari Miyoshi’s world he never has to make a decision in his life and that includes sexuality. Show him a guy and a girl and tell him to pick one and he will simply overload until he picks the person who knows the most trivia on classical art or smthing. Kazunari just: adores everyone ever, and that’s okay! After a lot of internalized homophobia and fear, he was able to come out to first a small group of college friends and eventually felt comfortable with the label and was able to express it openly, now he wears it with pride!

Kumon: I really don’t have any explaining to go here, Kumon just feels gay to me. My head can’t wrap around him wanting to be intimate with a girl. I do think there was this big moment of him coming out to Juza and Juza just going “s’okay.” Then they hug and get ice cream

Banri: Banri is bisexual with a straight pride flag and a Juza Preference. Catch him at the straight pride parade telling “those Homo’s that they’re going to burn.” While making out with Juza against a wall. That’s canon I don’t take criticism

Juza: Also Gay, I feel like Kumon came out first and Juza did research and was like “oh me too.” And just thought about how he’s never actually liked a girl and thought boys were kinda pretty and oh crap Settsu slicked his hair back oh crap oh crap pretty men.

Taichi: Taichi is bisexual, with his preferences being as random as his hair. Except no weird 1/4 quarters going on. Idk where I was going with that analogy I’m sorry. Taichi just likes the humans and wants to go kiss kiss with them all, and then bring them along on his journey for fame and popularity!

Omi: Listen, Omi is the mother of Mankai, and as the mother he loves everyone unconditionally. He also totally wanted to kiss Nachi I’m sorry. I feel like Omi has a male preference, but only by a bit as he loves everyone! He is a good boy and brings all the snacks and water to the pride parades so his friends stay healthy :)

Sakyo: Sakyo is the straight~ supportive dad who doesn’t care if you’re gay straight bi pan anything as long as you pay your taxes. Was probably a little confused at first just because. Probably said “LGBT? Isn’t that a sandwich.” But he got informed did research and is now a huge ally! After more research he identifies specifically as graysexual/romantic as he feels rarely any romantic attraction at all unless under certain circumstances aka Izumi Tachibana. I akso think he suspected that Azami was LGBT for a bit before he came out so he wanted to do research so that Azami would feel comfortable coming out when he was ready. Also he can’t like, not support Sakoda (who I Headcanon as gay :) )

Azami: Azami is bi-aro. Sex? Nah he won’t even hold your hand before marriage, however he will love you no matter your gender. I also see him with a female preference just from his straight upbringing and it’s the title he feels most comfortable with after some internalized homophobia, especially with how his dad shamed him for liking makeup. He is still getting used to the LGBT community and I feel like he is still taking baby steps, learning about different identities and wanting to do all he can to support both himself and his fellow actors due to simply not knowing where to start. Don’t worry Azami take you’re time! There is no rush, you are trying to figure yourself out and we all love you so much for it, there is no shame in changing your mind later. We adore you all the same. (If you couldn’t tell, I wasn’t only talking to Azami. If you are still questioning yourself it is 100% okay, because honestly I am too. There is no rush to figure yourself out, and I hope you know that we are all here for you!)

Tsumugi: Tsumugi is gay, but I feel like he also had a lot of internalized homophobia. I feel like when he was younger he really liked Tasuku but didn’t really understand the difference between platonic and romantic, and it took some time before he was able to really discover himself and come to the identity he has currently.

Tasuku: Tasuku is gay and homophobic.

Hisoka: Hisoka is homo-demi-romantic asexual. I feel like it won’t want to date anyone without really earning their trust and feeling safe around them, and after that point he still will be pretty shy romantically, but it is very much understandable and we all still love Hisoka

Homare: Homare is pan. He doesn’t really care about gender, he just wants someone who will love him and his poetry without seeing him as broken. I feel like after his last relationship he was hesitant to date again, but after some time and help from the rest of winter troupe he was able to rediscover himself. (Also autistic Homare go brrrr)

Azuma: Azuma is an old gay man who just thinks boobs are neat. That’s it that’s the post sent tweet turn off replies.

Guy: New color who this? This is because I didn’t know what to put for Guy, so he simply doesn’t identify as anything. I don’t know a lot about Guy but I know enough to feel like relationships would be very awkward and touchy for him due to his problems with emotions and expression. He isn’t straight, but he doesn’t really identify as anything either. He’s just: Guy. Which is more than valid

[oh also all of winter is Poly and they’re boyfriends thanks for coming to my Ted talk]

Hope you all liked these! Of course they are all my own opinion and you don’t have to agree with all, they’re just how I feel!! Feel free to reply or reblog with your own opinions or Headcanons!!

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

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365 Days: Part 2 (Feysand)

I feel like this should be beyond obvious at this point, but black lives matter. As a white person, I understand that I’ll never fully comprehend the struggle black individuals face on a daily basis. I stand with them, protesters, and activists as a lifetime ally. “Don’t be mad they’re rioting, be happy you don’t have to.” -- If you are not a supporter of the BLM movement, go ahead an unfollow me. I couldn’t care less.

OKAY. Sorry this is a day late! This part kind of has it all (humor, fluff, some slightly kinky smut) so I don’t know how to describe it. I also hate it, but whatever. Part 3 (last part) out Friday!

Part 1

________________________________________________________________

Day 1, 7:13 AM

~Feyre~

Something warm laid across her cheek, and Feyre peeked an eye open, only to groan at who she saw staring down at her. “If you make a habit of waking me up at the ass crack of dawn, I can already tell you you won’t live through our year of marriage, Rhysand.”

He smiled. “You have to get up. We're taking wedding pictures.”

She didn’t see the point. They’d signed the marriage license last night. How he’d procured one in less than an hour, she didn’t even want to know.

“Why the hell would we do that?”

“Because I’m a public figure, and the newspaper asked for a quote on our marriage.” She groaned. “Now get your cute ass downstairs.”

She glanced at him speculatively but stayed firmly planted in the bed. “What’s downstairs?”

“Someone to help get you ready. Not that I don’t appreciate the bed head. Up.”

Feyre shook her head. “Ask me again in two hours.” She glanced at the clock. “Make it three.”

Her husband pinched the bridge of his nose, but stood back up. She closed her eyes, happy she’d won their first argument.

Only to be proven wrong a moment later as the demon spawn flung back her blankets, grabbed her waist, and threw her over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down,” she shrieked, beating the back of his toned legs with a fist.

Rhysand, calm as always, smoothly responded, “If I put you down, you’ll just get back in the bed.”

“No, I won’t,” she lied.

Even though she couldn’t see his face, she’d bet anything he rolled his eyes. He walked out his/her/their bedroom door and down the stairs, his casual gait suggesting nothing out of the order.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly to whoever was waiting.

Feyre peeked around his ass to see four complete strangers, varying levels of amusement on their faces. “Um, hi.”

She was placed on a salon-like chair.

Which was odd, considering they were in the middle of the living room.

Rhysand pointed at two hulking figures sitting on the couch. “These are my friends Cassian and Azriel. You’ve met.”

The smugness in his voice, combined with the shit-eating grins of the men he was referring to, had her snapping back, “Oh yes, my kidnappers. Sorry I didn’t immediately recognize you. I had a sack over my head last time we met.”

“I’m Cassian.” The larger of the two smiled. “I’m the one you tried to gut with a butter knife.”

“I’ll have to practice my aim.”

Cassian looked at the man standing next to her and winked. “I like her.”

The other man on the couch, Azriel, sighed and shook his head, resigned.

Rhys just rolled his eyes and continued his introductions. “The two normal people here,” he gestured to a very brightly-dressed pair, “are here to do your hair and makeup and whatever else.”

He gave her a light kiss on the forehead, then spoke to his fellow criminals. “We have shit to do. Come on.”

“Are you off to do illegal activities, my dear husband?”

“Don’t worry, Feyre darling. You won’t be without eye candy for too long.”

He laughed at the look on her face, then wisely jogged out the door before she could throw something at him.

She turned to the people left staring at her with wide eyes and repressed a groan. “Let’s get this over with.”

~Rhysand~

Two hours after he’d left, Rhys came back to the house, showered, and changed into a tux. Then he went to his backyard where the photographer had set up.

“Where’s Feyre?” he asked the man as he messed around with lighting balloons.

The photographer gave him a knowing smile. “I want to get a picture of your reaction when you first see her.”

He was about to respond when the backdoor of the house opened and she walked out.

She was wearing a classic gown with long sleeves and a deep neckline, but that wasn’t what drew his attention. Her hair was up, and she had a veil trailing behind her. The sunlight made the white of her dress almost glow.

If she’d been beautiful before, now she was...

There were no words for how she looked.

Fucking radiant was a start.

She walked across the lawn to him and smiled, and he couldn’t keep the matching grin off his face if he tried.

Rhysand heard the faint snap snap snap of the camera and finally understood what the photographer had meant.

He’d wanted to capture the moment the city’s Son of Satan was practically brought to his knees by a single woman.

And Rhys didn’t even care.

Feyre finally drew close enough that he could see the details of her face. Even though he had a million more romantic things running through his brain, he murmured, “Who’s the eye candy now?”

“You are,” she said, as if it were obvious. “You look like sex on a spoon.”

His mouth dropped open, but before he could respond, the photographer butted into their moment. “Okay, I want you two to act like I’m not even here. We’re aiming for three or four really good shots, so just be natural, and I’ll let you know if anything has to change.”

They both nodded absently, still staring at each other. Rhys reached down to grab her hand, finger flicking the ring on her finger.

“I can’t believe our marriage is making the paper, and I didn’t even get a real proposal,” she teased.

It was true.

He’d put the ring on her bedside table the night before, too much of a simpering coward to give her the ring in person, too nervous about what’d she say. It had been his mother’s, and he’d once sworn to never let another soul have it.

“I didn’t want to risk your wrath and wake you up.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

Almost on its own accord, one of his hands reached out to cup her cheek. He didn’t know if Feyre was acting or something else, but she leaned into his touch, a hand coming to rest against his chest.

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” the photographer cooed.

“You are,” he told his wife. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled.

“Annoying as hell, but beautiful.”

She shoved his shoulder and turned away, but he grabbed her wrist to spin her back, and decided to risk his life.

He kissed her.

Hands locked around her waist, lips crashing into hers, Rhysand kissed her like he’d been dying to since he’d seen her asleep in his shirt.

And she really, really kissed him back.

Feyre’s hands wound around his neck, and he lifted her up a little to get a better angle. Her lips opened to let his tongue in, and he had no other thoughts in his head besides the woman in his arms.

The photographer coughed pointedly.

They ignored him.

Until Rhys finally relented and set her back on the ground, both of them panting for air.

“Sorry,” she told the blushing man, but he waved her off and insisted it happened all the time.

The thing was, it didn’t.

Rhysand had kissed plenty of women in his lifetime, but none of them had made his entire body start simmering like that.

Her blue eyes watched him speculatively as he slipped the ring off her finger, dropped down to one knee, and smiled. “Feyre darling, will you marry me?”

Despite already being legally married, she bent over and kissed him, then stole the ring back. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

Day 9, 8:04 PM

~Feyre~

Feyre had to admit that while the house outside the city had a charm and wholesome quality she’d come to admire, being trapped here had started to drive her slightly insane.

Especially since Rhysand had been been on a business trip the entire week, so she��d been here by herself.

After a tense phone call with her sisters--where Nesta had cackled and called her Satan’s nephew--and getting ahead in her textbooks, she was out of things to do. So she spent most of her time being a nosy little snob and going through her husband’s stuff.

Apparently, the Son of Satan had a very serious addiction to wine, if the cellar in the basement was any indication.

But other than that--and a mysterious letter from a woman named Amren--he had no trinkets, pictures of family, or any other worthwhile gossip.

The word “boredom” hardly covered it.

Once upon a time, Feyre wouldn’t have minded a couple days like this. When law school was in session, she didn’t have a spare moment and enjoyed when she got to do nothing.

She didn’t bother lying to herself about why it was driving her insane now.

She missed Rhysand.

After only a couple days of marriage, he’d wormed his way into her heart and made her start to rely on teasing him, seeing that devilish smirk, making him laugh. The nightly texts he sent her weren’t enough to satisfy her insane need to talk to him. He’d told her he was coming back later tonight, and she was practically coming out of her skin with excitement.

She was an idiot, basically.

This marriage wasn’t supposed to involve actual feelings. It was a publicity save. And despite giving her a hotter-than-hell kiss during their photo shoot, he hadn’t so much as touched her since.

Feyre had the distinct feeling he was waiting for her to make the first move.

Which, again, she normally wouldn’t mind. But something about Rhysand... she knew once she started down that path, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

So she slept in his bed, wore his t-shirts, and avoided thinking about how his mouth had felt against hers.

And how he’d tasted like chocolate and watermelon and-

Cutting that thought off, she resolved herself to be cool and calm and collected when he came back. She needed to nip the feelings she’d started to develop for him in the bud.

But then the front door banged open, and Feyre instantly disregarded every promise she’d made to herself and raced down the stairs, yelling like a banshee.

She saw Rhysand standing in the doorway in his usual Johnny Cash uniform and didn’t hesitate before yelling, “You’re home!”

And throwing herself on him.

He dropped whatever he was holding and laughed as she wrapped herself around him like a koala.

“Are you alright, love?”

She nodded against his neck. “I’m fine. Ignore me. I’ve just been so bored. This place is way too fucking quiet when you’re not here. I think I’m going insane.”

“I believe you.”

“Asshole.”

He laughed, then did as she’d said and ignored her presence, crossing the living room to the kitchen.

Rhys bent to look through the fridge, and she tightened her hold on him.

“We have no food, also,” she told him helpfully.

“I see that. If you put some pants on, we can go into the city for dinner.”

She laughed. Along with wearing his shirts, she’d taken to stealing a pair of boxers to sleep in.

Feyre dropped to the floor, and he smirked down at her. “I was gone for five days, and that’s the greeting I got. Next time I’m staying away for six.”

She swung a hand and punched his shoulder, which probably hurt her more than him, and told him, “You’re so very funny, Rhysand. Please feed me.”

Her husband gave her a shooing motion. “You might want to put on something besides my boxers, then.”

She took his advice.

About an hour later, she sat in front of him, watching as he adamantly tried to avoid looking at her.

She’d chosen a dark green dress--unremarkable except for the low neckline and short skirt--black heels, and simple makeup.

“Are you alright, Rhysand? You look like you’re having a stroke.”

Those violet eyes slid to hers. “I’m fine, thank you for asking. I like that dress.”

“I can tell.”

He looked at the ceiling. “When we get home, I’m going to replace your entire wardrobe with burlap sacks.”

Feyre shrugged, then decided to take a chance. “You’d still stare at me.”

His eyes met hers, and when he spoke, it was practically a purr. “Am I supposed to deny, Feyre darling, how attractive I find you?”

The waiter arrived before she had to respond. She made a mental note to leave him a huge tip.

As they ate their meal, she was overly aware of how many people stared at them. The whispers that surrounded them.

She was about to ask how he dealt with it when a chair was slid up next to her, a heavy-set man settling in. “Hello, Rhysand. I need to talk to you.”

The man was dressed in dark clothes, covered in tattoos, and had the promise of violence written across his every movement. He practically had the words drug dealer floating above his over-sized head.

“Dante.” The warm look she’d come to recognize in her husband’s eyes was nowhere to be found. “Whatever it is, it can wait. Leave.”

“I promise you, it can’t,” the man said boldly, continuing to ignore her presence entirely. “A shipment’s gone missing.”

Feyre watched, stomach twisting, as Rhysand leaned forward and smiled cruelly. “Would you like to join it? I don’t discuss business in front of my wife.”

My wife.

Despite the more than tense surroundings, Feyre felt a spark run through her at the words.

“Then the bitch can leave. I need to talk to you.”

There was a slight pause, then everything changed so quickly she didn’t have time to process it. One minute she was watching the man’s face twist with impatience, the next there was a gun pressed against his ruddy forehead.

A gun that practically looked like an extension of Rhysand’s arm.

Her husband was standing, entire body stiff with anger. The look on his face was inhuman. And promised a slow, slow death as he looked towards the man on the recieving end.

“Refer to her as Feyre Asterra, or lose your fucking tongue.”

The restaurant was dead quiet, everyone holding their breath and waiting to see what happened. No one dared move a muscle.

Except Dante, who nodded stiffly.

“Now apologize.”

The way he said it, the command in his voice... a thrill sparked through Feyre, and she bit her lip to keep the gasp in.

What was wrong with her? Where fear should’ve taken root, there was raw, untapped excitement whirling inside her. Rhysand’s entire body was lined with power and dominance and rage, and it made her breath come quicker as she watched.

Dante looked at her, the hatred clear. “I’m sorry,” he spat, then looked back at Rhys.

Rhysand tilted his head, a king holding court. Another cruel smile. “Beg me.”

Something inside Feyre twisted at his words.

Beg me.

The man’s jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth, but he still said. “Please, Rhysand. I’ve worked for you for five years. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, and she wouldn’t be surprised if someone passed out in anticipation. Then Rhys made a soft tsk sound.

“You no longer work for me. You’re no longer welcome in this city. If I see you after tonight, I won’t be as forgiving.”

The man opened his mouth to oppose, thought better of it, and sulked to the restaurant of the exit.

In that moment, Feyre knew why people called him the Son of Satan. Knew because, as calm as ever, he turned to their waiter and said, “Check, please.”

~ nsfw warning ~

Rhysand stood in front of the fireplace in their room, silent as the dead.

He hadn’t said a single word on the way home, and she could tell whatever had happened at dinner had been the tip of the iceberg. Something had gone wrong.

She replayed the meal over and over in her head, trying to figure it out, but only seemed to be able to remember one thing.

Beg me.

Something had snapped inside her tonight, and she couldn’t keep herself still. Seeing him like that, seeing the power he had over people...

Slipping off the bed, Feyre walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Her hands were spread on his taut stomach, but he gripped her wrists and took them off. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low. “I can’t do this right now. I’m not... I’m trying to keep my promise to you.”

Stay good with me. It felt like she’d said that a lifetime ago.

Rhys turned around, drank whatever was in his glass, and looked down at her. There was violence and anger and animalistic rage in his gaze.

It did little to calm the roar in her veins.

“Break your promise.”

A muscle in his jaw flickered, but he kept his hands to himself.

She wanted him so bad she could hardly stand. Her hands found their way to his chest, needing to touch him. “Please.”

Suddenly, she was pressed against the mantle near the fire, heat scorching up her leg. His glass fell to the floor as his hands pressed against her shoulders.

He’d barely touched her, and she was breathing like she’d run a mile.

A hand came to trace her bottom lip, then he was kissing her, and she finally let out a sigh.

The day of their wedding pictures, his kiss had been decadent and exploring. But that was when he was happy.

When Rhys was pissed off, he kissed her in a raw, aggressive sort of way that made her lose her mind. A hand pulled her hair, making her tilt her head back, and he deepened the kiss.

She’d just started to unbutton his shirt when he lifted her by the back of the thighs, then dropped them both to the floor and pinned her underneath him.

Rhys braced himself over her trapping her arms above her head. She thought about the first time they’d been like this, and the look in his eye said he was doing the exact same thing.

“I wanted you so bad that night,” he told her, voice rough.

She arched her back, chest pressed against his, and he gave her a wolf’s smile.

“Did you want me, too?” he asked, lips and teeth on her collarbone.

Feyre nodded.

His mouth drifted down to her chest, and his teeth scraped her nipple through her dress. Rhys looked up at her, more monster than man in his eyes, and asked, “Were you wet for me, Feyre?”

Okay. Maybe it had been a mistake to encourage being together right now.

Only one way to find out.

She nodded again, and his eyes went dark.

A hand remained pinning her wrists, the other drifting up her thigh. His fingers grazed the lace of her panties, then slipped inside.

He ran a finger up her core, and she shifted beneath him.

“Stay still,” he ordered, the command in his voice making her freeze.

His finger slipped inside her, and he nudged the neck of her dress down to take a breast in his mouth. He made a humming sound in appreciation as he moved, then added another finger.

Feyre moaned, pushing uselessly against the grip on her hands. It was too much. He was too much. She wouldn’t survive this.

But she couldn’t force herself to stop.

She’d been right. Now that she’d started, a shower of bullets wouldn’t make her leave this room.

His stubble scraped the valley between her breasts, and then they were kissing, a deep, wet slide of tongues and lips and teeth. He kissed her in time to the movement of his hand, and Feyre groaned into his mouth.

“I need more,” she panted onto his skin.

Rhysand’s teeth closed softly on her shoulder, and then he was looking down at her. His eyes were so dark they were like the nighttime sky, and then he said the words she didn’t know she’d been craving.

“Beg me.”

She whimpered underneath him, shifting restlessly.

A small, knowing smile was on his face, and she would’ve punched it off if she hadn’t been so attracted to it.

“Please. Please.”

His hand was on her jaw, and he pressed a wet kiss to her lips. “Good girl.”

Lord help me.

He made quick work pulling her clothes off, then leaned back on his knees, surveying her head to toe.

She repaid the favor.

She didn’t know when his shirt had fallen open, but she sure as shit wasn’t complaining.

His chest was covered in tattoos, the dark swirls running across his pecs and shoulders, all the way to his fingertips. The tattoos, the dangerous look in his eyes... Feyre lost a bit of her sanity as she leaned up to drag her mouth up his stomach.

Flicking open his belt, Rhys pushed her back down. Then his pants were pulled down, and he was spreading her thighs and settling in between them before she got a proper look.

“Again.” He looked half crazed with anger and lust.

She nipped at his bottom lip. “Please.”

He was pushed inside her, deep and slow and steady. He groaned in her ear, and the sound threatened what remained of her.

Then he gripped her hips, lifted slightly, and began to move.

Holy gods.

Feyre didn’t know what language she was speaking in, but it wasn’t English. She was murmuring incoherent somethings, not able to string together proper thoughts.

She moved in rhythm with him as he picked up speed, and even though they were spread out on the ground, Feyre felt like a freaking queen.

He was taking his time, listening and learning what she liked, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Soon she was so loud it was a miracle they didn’t have close neighbors.

But as soon as she felt release start to come, he paused his movements.

The sound that came out of Feyre’s mouth was close to a snarl.

Rhysand smiled, gripping her chin. “Do you want to come, Feyre darling?”

If she wasn’t practically immobile, she’d strangle him. “You’re such an insufferable bastard, Rhysand Asterra. Yes.”

“And what do people say when they want something?”

She bit his lip in frustration, but said, “Please, you pri-”

His hips slammed into hers, a moan cutting her off as release crashed into her. Muscles twitching, face pinched in concentration, he followed her lead, collapsing on top of her.

They laid there together, both breathing heavily, until she started losing air. He rolled off her and looked over her with male satisfaction.

There was still a little tension from earlier, but his usual brightness and light was back. It was impossible not to smile at the happiness coursing through her veins.

Then he opened that smart mouth. “Let’s take a moment to remember when you said you could go two years without sleeping with me.”

“In my defense,” she panted back, “I hadn’t seen you in action before.”

He looked adorably shocked. “So threatening to shoot people is hot to you?”

“When it’s because of me, yeah.” She flicked his bicep, unable to help it. “I almost jumped you right then and there.”

He started kissing her neck, grinning against her skin. “I might have to hunt him down, then.”

She laughed, hands playing in his thick hair. Feyre pulled him back on top of her, a deliciously heavy dead weight. “I think I might have to update my pros and cons list.”

Rhysand laughed, and Feyre doubted a year of looking at that smile would be enough.

Hell, a lifetime might not be enough.

She didn’t let the thought linger.

“Do you think there’s some innocent people around for you to threaten?”

A kiss to her temple. “I’ll hire someone if I have to.”

________________________________________________________________

Part 3

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