#how the angel appearing must not have come as any relief

[100percentdirtball]

maybe it’s because i’m a faggy little writer and not a woman of faith, but i really really thought the point of the story about isaac and abraham was just to make you really live inside a man who spent three days walking with his son knowing that at the end he would die, and waking up every morning for the rest of his life and looking his son in the eyes and knowing that he was willing to kill him. how is this not a horror story.

[haoboutyou]

fever dream | boo seungkwan

fluff | 894 words | food mention: soup

an: chanting rite of passage rite of passage nsnsjsjwjz here’s a sick fic

there are three things that come into seungkwan’s mind the moment he opens his eyes:

everything is too loud and piercing at the same time.

he must be dying because an angel is sitting right next to him.

the warm damp cloth on his forehead needs to be yeeted off immediately.

“good morning!”

contrary to your calming angelic presence, your cheery voice causes him to wince, way too bright for his current state. he moans, grunts escaping him as he tries to sit up. your hands rush to support him, pulling him up and adjusting his pillows to make him more comfortable. 

it takes a while for him to remember his current predicament– he’s hot and he’s cold (god, he wishes he’s yes and he’s no), and his skin feels sticky all over. it doesn’t help that the pounding on his head seemed to worsen the longer he looked straight too. 

seungkwan rubs his temple, attempting to soothe the headache. “ugh…what time is it?”

“it’s a little past 2pm.” you’re in his swivel chair, laptop sitting abandoned on the study table by the bed. removing the damp cloth, you give him a little pat on the head. his eyebrow shoots up, as if to question how you got into his room in the first place.

“jeonghan called me saying you’re sick. are you feeling any better now?”

ah, so it was the devil in disguise that sent an angel from heaven. seungkwan starts to nod, only to immediately wince when the throbbing got worse. you shoot him a look of pity, standing up from your seat.

“you haven’t eaten yet, right?” you’re walking closer to him, replacing the cloth on his forehead with the back of your hand. a frown appears when you realise his fever hasn’t gone down one bit. 

“gosh, you’re so hot!”

“only for you, baby.” his poor attempt at a wink is met with a deadpan face of your own, as you scrunch your nose at his reply.

“let’s get some food in you, yeah? then you can get some medicine.”

he watches as you disappear out of the room. seungkwan slumps back into his plush pillows, feeling only slightly better than he was this morning. 

it’s not that he wasn’t grateful for your presence. he just wasn’t expecting it. you had only been dating for a month, after all– he just wasn’t used to having you at his weakest.

nonetheless, he’s never been more thankful for your presence when you return, bowls carefully balanced on a tray. his stomach chooses this exact moment it let out a grumble; seungkwan flushes a slightly fever-induced red while you giggle. 

“soup,” you declare, setting his bowl down in front of him. you place yours on the study table, and he murmur a quick thanks before eating. you watch seungkwan for a moment, content with watching him eat before you touch your own. 

it’s a little odd for you to experience a subdued seungkwan completely unlike his normal boisterous self. however, that doesn’t stop the light conversation that fills the table as you both eat your dinner. 

his still-emerging fever fogs up his brain, so he opts to just listen to you ramble about your day instead. you laugh when he tells you how the soup warms his chest, getting rid of whatever chills he still had clinging on. seungkwan sighs in relief as the soup soothes his unexpectedly sore throat, prompting another chuckle. you push the box of tissues closer to him when you hear seungkwan start sniffling again.

he’s done with his bowl before you are, and you make sure he downs all of the medicine.

(he’s a little surprised at the assortment of medicine you present him with.

“wha- since when did we have all these?” 

“i dropped by the pharmacy first just in case! but kwan, you should really stock up on your medicine cabinet.” your frown of disapproval could not get any cuter.)

no really, seungkwan thinks he’s been blessed by an angel. he’s settled back in bed by the time you return from putting away the dishes, re-opening your laptop. he watches you work for a moment, letting the clicking sound of your keyboard lull him back to sleep. 

“thanks for coming, y/n.”

you pause, looking away from your screen. seungkwan has a dopey smile gracing his high cheeks, and you can see him physically fight the urge to succumb to the drowsy medicine.

your hand reaches out to comb through his hair. his fever’s gotten down slightly, you note. pushing his bangs up, you lean in to press a faint kiss on his forehead. 

“go to sleep, kwan. i’ll be here until your roommate gets back, alright?” gosh, how did he get so lucky? 

the gentle rhythm of your touch slowly pushes him back into a dreamless sleep. 

he thinks he might love you.

his sickness-ridden brain doesn’t realise that he’s said that out loud. your hand falters slightly at his words, but only barely. 

it doesn’t take long for seungkwan to fall back asleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest and his soft snores a clear indicator. you can’t pull your hand back– his hand somehow found itself tightly intertwined with yours. 

it’s a little bit harder to do your work now, but that’s okay. you think you might love him too.

[eddiediazbuck]

Home - Eddie Diaz

Eddie Diaz x reader

I slammed the door behind me, my hands trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. Tears blurred my vision as I fumbled with my keys, trying to steady my breath. Brandon's voice echoed in my head, his harsh words cutting deeper than any physical wound. This wasn't how it was supposed to be; we were supposed to have a future together. But now, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of betrayal and loss.

I managed to start the car, my mind racing with thoughts of where to go. I couldn't go to Buck's place—my brother, Evan Buckley, had enough on his plate without me adding to it. Plus, I couldn't bear the thought of him seeing me like this, so broken and vulnerable. There was only one other person I could think of, despite our recent argument: Eddie Diaz.

My hands were still shaking as I drove through the streets of Los Angeles. The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, and I could barely focus on the road. Eddie and I had fought a few days ago, and we hadn't spoken since. I knew showing up at his door might not go over well, but I didn't have any other options. Eddie had always been there for me, and despite our fight, I hoped he wouldn't turn me away.

When I pulled up to Eddie's house, I hesitated for a moment, staring at the front door. Memories of our argument flashed through my mind, and I almost turned back. But then I remembered the look on Brandon's face, the way he had dismissed me, and my resolve hardened. I needed someone, and Eddie was the only one I trusted right now.

I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air did little to calm my nerves as I waited, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, the door opened, and Eddie stood there, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept well in days, a stark contrast to the steady, calm demeanor I knew so well. I realized I must look a mess—my tear-streaked face and disheveled hair a testament to the emotional storm I had just weathered.

"Y/N?" he said, his voice softening as he took in my appearance.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "I'm sorry, Eddie," I choked out, the words catching in my throat. "I had nowhere else to go."

Without a word, Eddie stepped aside, a silent invitation that spoke volumes. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the dam broke, and I collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Eddie held me tightly, his strong arms providing the comfort I so desperately needed.

"Come here," he whispered, his voice soothing and gentle. "It's okay. You're safe now."

Eddie led me to the living room, his hand never leaving mine. The familiar warmth of his home enveloped me, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside my head. He guided me to the couch, sitting me down gently before heading to the kitchen. I heard the soft clink of a glass and the rush of water from the tap. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water, pressing it into my hands.

"Drink," he said softly. "It'll help."

I took a sip, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. Eddie sat down beside me, his presence a steadying force. He didn't press me for details, didn't demand an explanation. He just sat there, his hand resting on my back, rubbing gentle circles as I tried to pull myself together.

"I don't know what to do," I whispered, staring at the floor. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on me, and I felt utterly lost.

"We'll figure it out," Eddie said firmly. 

--- --- ---- --- 

After what felt like hours, my tears finally subsided, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion. Eddie handed me a tissue, and I wiped my face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the table lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. I glanced around, trying to ground myself in the familiar surroundings of Eddie's living room.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to apologize," Eddie replied, his eyes filled with concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

I hesitated, the memories of my argument with Brandon still raw and painful. But looking into Eddie's eyes, I saw nothing but genuine concern and understanding. Taking a deep breath, I began to recount the events of the evening, my voice trembling as I relived the harsh words and the final, crushing blow that had sent me running.

Eddie listened quietly, his expression growing more serious with each passing moment. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t offer hollow reassurances or try to solve the problem immediately. He simply listened, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions.

When I finished, he sighed deeply, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve any of that," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

"I just... I don't know what to do," I admitted, feeling the weight of my situation pressing down on me. The reality of having no place to call home, of being untethered and adrift, was suffocating.

Eddie took my hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "You can stay here as long as you need to. We'll figure this out together. You're not alone in this."

I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me, but there was also a lingering doubt. "I don't want to be a burden, Eddie. You've already done so much."

"You're not a burden," he said firmly. "You're my friend, and I care about you. We'll get through this."

Eddie showed me to the guest room, a cozy space with soft blue walls and a neatly made bed. It was clear he had taken care to make it welcoming, and I felt a pang of emotion at his thoughtfulness.

"Get some rest," he said, standing in the doorway. "We'll talk more in the morning."

"Thank you, Eddie," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "For everything."

He gave me a gentle smile. "Anytime, Y/N. Goodnight."

As he closed the door, I felt a sense of calm begin to settle over me. I changed into the pajamas Eddie had laid out, and slipped under the covers. The bed was warm and comfortable, and despite everything, I felt a sense of security here. It wasn't long before exhaustion claimed me, and I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

--- --- --- --- 

I woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of birds chirping outside the window. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then the memories of the previous night came flooding back. I took a deep breath and got out of bed, determined to face the day.

In the kitchen, Eddie was making breakfast. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Better than I expected," I admitted, taking a seat at the table. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," he said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me. "I thought we could eat and then maybe talk about what's next."

I nodded, grateful for his calm, practical approach. As we ate, the conversation flowed easily, and I felt some of the tension begin to ease. Eddie had a way of making things seem less daunting, and for the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope.

After breakfast, we moved to the living room. Eddie handed me a cup of coffee and sat down beside me, his expression serious but kind.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked gently.

I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. "I need to find a new place to live, and probably a new job. I can't go back to the apartment I shared with Brandon, and I don't want to stay with Buck. He'd worry too much."

Eddie nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "I understand. But you don't have to rush into anything. Take some time to figure things out. You can stay here as long as you need to."

His words were a lifeline, and I clung to them gratefully. "Thank you, Eddie. I don't know what I would have done without you."

He smiled, a warm, reassuring smile that made my heart feel lighter.

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

Over the next few days, I settled into a routine at Eddie's house. He continued to go to work at the fire station, and I spent my days looking for apartments and updating my resume. It was a slow process, but having a safe place to stay made all the difference.

Eddie and I fell into an easy rhythm, our earlier argument forgotten in the face of more pressing concerns. In the evenings, we cooked dinner together and talked about our days. The familiarity and comfort of these moments began to heal the wounds of the past.

One evening, as I was sitting on the couch, Christopher came up to me, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Y/N, can we make dinner for Dad tonight?" he asked.

I smiled, touched by his eagerness. "Of course, Christopher. What do you want to make?"

Christopher's eyes lit up. "Dad loves spaghetti and meatballs! Can we make that?"

"Absolutely," I replied, standing up. "Let's get started."

We headed to the kitchen, and I began gathering the ingredients. Christopher followed closely, his excitement palpable. I handed him a small apron, which he eagerly put on, and together we started the prep work.

"Okay, Christopher," I said, setting a cutting board in front of him. "You can help me with the garlic. We need to peel it first."

Christopher nodded, his hands steady and sure as he worked on the garlic cloves. I was impressed by his determination and focus. Despite his cerebral palsy, Christopher had an incredible spirit and a willingness to try new things.

As we worked, I showed him how to mix the ground beef with the breadcrumbs, egg, and seasonings for the meatballs. He watched intently, mimicking my movements with a concentration that was both endearing and impressive.

"Now, we roll the mixture into balls like this," I explained, demonstrating the motion. "Can you try?"

Christopher nodded, carefully rolling a meatball and placing it on the tray. "Like this?"

"Exactly like that," I praised, giving him an encouraging smile. "You're doing great."

With the meatballs ready, we moved on to the sauce. I let Christopher stir the pot, his face glowing with pride as he watched the ingredients blend together. His joy was infectious, and I found myself smiling just as widely.

As we finished preparing the meal, the kitchen filled with the delicious aroma of tomato sauce and garlic. Christopher and I set the table, placing a small vase of flowers in the center as a finishing touch.

When Eddie walked in the door, he was greeted by the sight of his son and me standing proudly in the kitchen, our faces flushed with accomplishment.

"Wow, what's going on here?" Eddie asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement and curiosity.

"We made dinner for you, Dad!" Christopher exclaimed, rushing over to hug him.

Eddie looked at me, his eyes softening with gratitude. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"It was all Christopher's idea," I replied, giving the boy a wink. "He wanted to surprise you."

Eddie ruffled Christopher's hair affectionately. "Well, I am definitely surprised. And it smells amazing. Let's eat!"

After dinner, once Christopher was tucked into bed, Eddie and I found ourselves on the porch again, sipping tea and watching the stars. The silence between us was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding.

"Thank you for tonight," Eddie said, breaking the silence. "Christopher had a great time, and the dinner was amazing."

"It was my pleasure," I replied, smiling. "Christopher is a wonderful kid. He's so determined and full of life."

Eddie nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of pride and love. "He's my everything. And you've been so good with him. It means a lot to me."

"I care about both of you," I admitted, feeling my heart swell with emotion. "Being here, spending time with you and Christopher... it feels right."

Eddie reached out, taking my hand in his. The gesture was simple, yet it spoke volumes. "It feels right to me too," he said softly. "I'm glad you're here, Y/N."

--- --- --- --- 

As the days passed, Christopher's fondness for Y/N only seemed to grow deeper. He looked forward to their cooking sessions with an eagerness that warmed Eddie's heart. But beneath his cheerful demeanor, Eddie sensed a growing unease in his son.

One evening, as they sat down for dinner, Christopher seemed unusually quiet. He picked at his food, his usual enthusiasm replaced by a somber expression.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" Eddie asked, concern lacing his voice.

Christopher hesitated, glancing at Y/N before turning back to his plate. "I... I heard you and Y/N talking earlier," he admitted quietly.

Eddie exchanged a glance with Y/N, feeling a pang of guilt for discussing their plans in front of Christopher. "We were just talking about some things, Chris. Nothing to worry about."

But Christopher shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears. "I don't want Y/N to leave," he confessed, his voice trembling. "I don't want things to go back to how they were before."

Eddie's heart broke at his son's words. He reached out, pulling Christopher into a tight hug. "Oh, buddy. I know it's scary to think about Y/N leaving, but we'll figure things out together, okay? We'll make sure she's okay."

Christopher nodded, but Eddie could see the fear and uncertainty lingering in his eyes. He glanced at Y/N, silently pleading for her understanding.

After dinner, once Christopher had been tucked into bed, Eddie and Y/N found themselves on the porch again, the air heavy with the weight of Christopher's worries.

"I'm sorry he overheard our conversation," Eddie said, his voice heavy with guilt. "I didn't want him to worry."

"It's okay," Y/N replied softly, her eyes filled with empathy.

Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just don't want him to feel like he's losing someone else, you know? He's been through so much already."

Y/N reached out, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's arm. "He won't lose me, Eddie. I promise. Even if I have to leave, I'll always be here for him. For both of you."

Eddie looked at her, his heart overflowing with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

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

As Eddie sat on the porch with Y/N, her reassuring words echoed in his mind. He knew she meant them—that she would always be there for him and Christopher, no matter what. And in that moment, a realization dawned on him.

"Y/N," Eddie began, turning to face her, his expression earnest. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said earlier. About always being here for Christopher and me."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with curiosity and warmth. "Yes?"

"I don't want you to leave," Eddie admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want Christopher to feel like he's losing someone else. And I... I don't want to lose you either."

Y/N's hand tightened on his arm, her gaze unwavering. "Eddie..."

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Y/N, will you move in with us? With me and Christopher? I want you to be a part of our family, officially."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Eddie held his breath, waiting for Y/N's response, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hand moving to cover her mouth. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded, unable to find her voice.

Eddie's heart swelled with relief and joy. He reached out, taking her hand in his, the warmth of her touch grounding him in the moment.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with love. "Thank you. Thank you for saying yes."

Y/N threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Of course, Eddie. I love you both so much. I want to be with you, always."

In that moment, as they held each other close, Eddie knew that their family was complete. With Y/N by his side, he felt like they could face anything that life threw their way. And as they watched the stars twinkle in the night sky, he felt a sense of peace settle over him—a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would overcome them together, as a family.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can I please get a fluffy dad Pedro coming home to trader taking care of their sick baby?

It's been a hot minute since I've wrote for Pedrito. Felt good, so good!!

Snotty noses

Pedro was rather lost in his head as he made his way through the busy New York streets after yet another interview. He had declined so many of them towards the end of your pregnancy. Even more, once your baby girl was born. But his management was pressuring him now. He had to make an appearance. There were shows and movies of his that had to be promoted. Especially with him being the main lead.

But now all he felt was guilt because he must have dragged some virus back home last week. Causing you to fall ill slightly but most importantly making your newborn baby sick for the very first time. So to say that he felt like the most shit father ever now would be an understatement.

Pedro stopped at the little pharmacy not too far from your shared apartment to grab the medication you had asked for. Asking for extras of everything. Hating all the little syringes that would help the baby swallow the mixtures. His little angel. Unexpected and hardly planned but no less of a miracle. Truly, Pedro had given up on the idea of having kids. He wasn't in his youngest years. Plus his schedule was still so tight. He knew he would spend way too little time at home for his liking.

But you fell pregnant and he had sat on the bathroom floor for over an hour just started at all the positive tests with you. Happy tears running down his cheeks. Pedro never failed to remind you how thankful he was for this. For you choose to go through the rather ruth pregnancy. Being an absolute wander woman at birth. He loved you even more now and was smitten with the little girl you two had created.

Pedro unlocks the apartment door quietly just in case you two had managed to fall asleep. Dropping the pharmacy bad to the side he kicked off his shoes, quickly making his way towards the living room where he had left his two girls snuggled up in the morning. The fact that no baby was screaming made him hopeful that she was at least slightly better. Had to be, right? The doctor had said that by now she should be showing signs of getting better.

And what Pedro sees is you swaying softly, humming your tune as you no doubt are trying to make her fall asleep. But her tiny little hands are wildly grabbing around as she wiggles in your hands. You turn sideways slightly, jumping lightly at the sight of your partner.

"God, Pedro, I nearly had a heart attack...", you mutter letting your shoulders sag in relief. "Sorry, my love, just was trying to be quiet", he mutters quietly, taking you in. You're still in one of his shirts that you wore to bed. Hair messily pushed to the side. A part of Pedro knows that you hadn't had a shower or a moment to do something for yourself today and that makes him feel so guilty. "You sure succeeded in doing that", You breath out but now you're smiling up at him, "How did it all go?"

"In all honesty, I just wanted to go home. Don't like leaving you two like this", Pedro stepped closer, leaving a light kiss on your forehead, as he embraced you. Noting that your skin was noticeably less warm. "How's our bunny?", his eyes fall onto the little bundle, who's already looking up at their dad with big brown eyes, "How's my little girl? You're feeling any better?", he coos at her, earning a little gummy smile you two haven't seen in over a week.

"The fever is gone, she's mostly snotty", you hum in response, laying your hand down on Pedro's shoulder for a moment. "And you?", he asks within a heartbeat. Your silence says enough. And truthfully Pedro can only imagine what a toll this caused to your body. "I'll be fine", you mutter but Pedro is shaking his head. "Go take a long hot bath, I'll make you something to eat before the evening feed. The pills you asked for are on the entrance table", his words are soft, and caring, as he carefully takes the baby from your hands.

"I'm fine, P", you know that he's also just as tired. He had been taken most of the night feeds. Sure, you both had stayed up for most nights because you both were scared that you might miss something but still. More or less Pedro was the one getting out of bed to change dippers and picking up whatever you might need for a feed. "Don't, my love. You too deserve to take a breather", he gently rubs your upper arm, "I've got her. You go pamper yourself a little. Believe me, you'll feel much better". And of course, you knew that he was right. Sometimes even a little shower can make a huge difference when you're not feeling well. So with a quick kiss on your baby's cheek, you slip away into the bathroom.

Pedro quickly changes into more comfortable clothes while babbling to the rather active baby. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed watching her when she was so active and alert. The droopy, tired eyes had been cutting his heart for days now. Pedro gets the kettle for tea ready. Pulling out a pot of soup from the fridge to heat up once you're out. Already thinking about the sandwich he'll make to go alongside it.

But he finds himself on the sofa almost immediately. With the light weight of the baby pressing onto his chest. "Look at your snotty little nose", he coos, reaching out for the stuff to extract the mucus with and carefully wiping the area, "It must feel so frustrating, huh?" The baby only bubbles in return and Pedro finds himself nodding to the sound. Her curious gaze finds him. The deep chocolate eyes crinkle with a smile as she notices him. "You're happy to see me today? Did you miss me?", Pedro is smiling himself as he carefully runs his fingers over her cheek, "I've missed you too, baby girl. Never want to leave you and your mommy again".

A big yawn slips out of her lips. Pedro moves to rub her back with his palm. She doesn't break the eye contact, trying to stay up and look at her dad but her eyes are slowly betraying her. Pedro laughs a little, "Don't fight it, baby girl, Daddy will be right here when you wake up", he promises. She lets out a sigh. Nuzzling deeper into his chest. Pedro takes hold of her tiny first, placing a loving kiss onto it, letting her tiny finger grip onto him. She's out within seconds. The warmth of him mixed with the calming sound of her father's heartbeat is enough to make her settle in no time. Pedro smiles to himself. Allowing himself to just watch her. Soak up all of her tiny features and the love she can show even while being so small.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Our 4x01 celebration comes to an end but we hope you liked the fics we reviewed this last week in honor of Cas and Dean's first meeting.

In case you missed any, here are the 6 we've decided to review for this occasion.

Grey by Valinde (Valyria) [Explicit, 65k words]

In a world where people don’t see in color until they find their true mate, the first thing Dean sees when he pulls himself out of his grave is the blue sky. When Castiel raised him from the Pit, he inadvertently claimed Dean as his mate.

heard from your mother (she don’t recognize you) by rupertgayes [Mature, 538k words]

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he’s able to piece together a few things: Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn’t stop them; he has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; he keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who must be as lonely as he is if he’s willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is. For his part, Dean’s still (not) dealing with Sam’s departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

Lazarus Needs a Robe of Scarlet Thread by HerRosesNeverFall [Explicit, 90k words]

Three weeks ago, Dean woke up in a pine box. He thought dealing with the nightmares was going to be the most difficult part of his new life after Hell, but at least they were something he could understand. Something he could deal with. Something he deserved. Then he began having agonizing visions of crucifixion. Wounds appeared on his body out of nowhere. Wounds that refused to heal and coated his skin with the sickly sweet smell of roses. Stigmata are said to be the marks of saints, but Dean is not a saint and the wounds are only the beginning.

psalm 40:2 by unicornpoe [Explicit, 44k words]

“How the fuck do you know my name?” Dean hisses. The man doesn’t look scared. He is watching Dean like there is nothing else worth watching, lips a little parted, eyes a little soft. And blue. Real blue, like the ocean on a postcard. The ice spreading down Dean’s spine makes him shiver. “I suppose you could say I’m your guardian angel,” the man murmurs. His breath fogs pale between them. All of him is unnaturally warm, like Dean’s touching somebody with the sun sewn up beneath their skin. “I have known you, Dean Winchester, for a very long time.” Dean meets an angel who says he’s from the future. It all gets a lot more complicated from there.

Saved From Hell, Cast From Heaven by bizarrestars [Mature, 13k words]

Cas is going to rebuild Dean. He’s going to make Dean again, and Dean doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to separate, even for a moment, even to be made. He doesn’t want Cas’ touch to ever leave. He won’t let Cas let him go, and Cas cannot stay. (Dean doesn’t know, but this will be the reoccurring dynamic between them both for years to come.) Here and now, he has to let Dean go, but Dean thrashes under his loosening grip, only soothed when he leaves the imprint of his touch behind, a scalding reminder that makes Dean scream, that makes Dean moan with relief, and then— Dean wakes up with a burning shoulder.

The Sharp Edge of Earth by dotfic [Teen, 29k words]

Having sold his soul to save Sam’s life, Dean finds himself in Hell at the mercy of the demon Alastair, who is intent on breaking him. But all that Dean was and is, everyone who’s had an impact on him, are still a part of Dean, and he won’t break easily. As Dean takes refuge in his own mind to escape the torture, angels gather, ordered to undertake an unusual mission: rescue The Righteous Man from Hell. Castiel knows an invasion of Hell will be difficult, but he has no idea how much this mission will demand of him, how wrong the best-laid plans can go – and how much everything is about to change irrevocably. Meanwhile, Dean’s defenses and his hope start to fail. He thinks no one is ever coming to save him. He’s wrong.

If you'd like to check more fics like these, check our tags coda, early seasons, and pre canon or the 4x01 celebration tag for everything related to this celebration.

Thank you for the members @casblackfeathers @casloveshisfreckles @dothwrites @kitmistry @peanutbutterjelly-pie and @valandrawrites

[mimisempai]

Finding a new purpose

Summary

It was one of those days.

Crowley just wanted to sleep and do nothing.

But the appearance of a little bee might just help him find new meaning in his life. Even if it starts with something as simple as explaining how to make tea.

Notes

I'm not familiar with depression. But with the help of a friend who guided me through it, I could made my way to through this story.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1905 words

Crowley felt a gentle pressure on his cheek, followed by Aziraphale's voice softly in his ear, "Crowley, my dear, I must get up. I promised Maggie I'd meet her at 9:00 to discuss ways to make the record store thrive."

Crowley mumbled, "I thought you had an arrangement."

He felt the angel's hand stroke his hair as he replied quietly, "It remains unchanged, but poor Maggie needs to be able to earn enough to live on, too."

"Mmmh."

Aziraphale asked him gently, "Do you have any plans today?"

Crowley turned his head to Aziraphale and sheepishly replied, "No, I... I don't feel like doing anything. I think I'll go back to sleep. I'm sor..."

Aziraphale put a finger to his mouth and shook his head, "Hey, don't be sorry. It's one of those days, and it's fine. Rome wasn't built in a day, we both know that."

Crowley replied, "You're too good to me."

Aziraphale leaned toward him, "Not at all. I want you to get better, and you'll only get better if you give yourself time and don't try to force things. One step at a time."

"'Kay..."

Aziraphalel pressed a kiss to the demon's forehead, tucked him in, and planted a final kiss on his cheek before saying softly, "I'll be back in two hours." Then he rose and walked down the stairs. Crowley listened to the sounds until the tinkling of the shop door told him the Angel had gone out.

So he snuggled down a bit more under the covers and slid over to the side of Aziraphale's bed, burying his face in the still-warm pillow, which was also impregnated with the angel's scent.

He tried to fall back asleep, but he couldn't stop certain thoughts from running through his mind.

Aziraphale looked happy, thriving in his life, now independent.

He no longer needed Crowley.

He'd protected his friends, defeated a demon army, stood up to Metatron. Without Crowley.

He no longer needed Crowley.

But what was Crowley's purpose now?

No more apocalypse.

No more angel to save from himself and others.

What was he good for?

What if Aziraphale grew tired of him?

He was patient with him.

But even an angel's patience could run out, couldn't it?

And he no longer needed Crowley.

Despite all these thoughts, the demon finally fell asleep, only to wake up a few moments later to a noise downstairs in the shop. He looked at the wall clock and realized that it had only been a few minutes since he had fallen asleep, so it couldn't be Aziraphale who was already back. Sighing, he got up, dressed quickly, and walked down the stairs in silence. He heard the same noise again, and it seemed to be coming from the back of the shop, so he went there.

There, to his surprise, Muriel was staring in confusion at an empty cup, the kettle, and the tea box.

They murmured, "A cupperty, a cupperty."

The demon could not suppress a small, amused smile and asked, "How about a hand, little bee?"

Muriel gasped and turned to him, "Oh, Mister Grump- Crowley. I didn't know you were here and I..."

He held up his hand, "Calm down. You have every right to be here and have a 'Cupperty'. So I repeat, do you need help?"

Muriel sighed with relief and sheepishly confessed, "I have no idea how to do this, it's usually Aziraphale who makes me tea."

"Okay, little bee. So tell me what you want. You have a choice. I'll make you tea or I'll show you how to make it and you won't have to depend on anyone else. Your choice. No judgment."

Muriel nodded eagerly, "Show me how."

Crowley nodded. He had no doubt what their answer would be if he was honest with himself.

So he gently showed them how to use the kettle, how to make tea, and a few minutes later they were both sitting at the round table in the back of the shop, enjoying a cup of tea for Muriel and a cup of coffee for Crowley.

Muriel inhaled the smell of their still too hot tea with delight and said to Crowley with a smile, "Thank you for helping me. You're a really nice person."

Crowley was about to open his mouth and protest as usual, but something in the angel's demeanor stopped him. Probably because they exuded this aura of innocence and he didn't want them to lose it too quickly.

He simply nodded in acceptance of the gratitude and praise. It was strange, but not as uncomfortable as he'd thought.

Muriel continued, "I am grateful to you and Aziraphale."

Because... for the first time in millennia I don't feel like a nobody. I mean, there's you two, Maggie, Nina, everybody's nice to me. Nobody talks down to me."

Crowley thought back to the moment he'd accompanied Muriel to heaven, to their oh-so-isolated desk. And of course, he couldn't help but think of how Aziraphale had been treated.

"I don't want to go back up there."

Muriel's sentence snapped Crowley out of his thoughts and he immediately replied, "And you're not going back. Whether it's me or Aziraphale, we'll fight for it if we have to, and more than that, just like with the kettle, I can teach you to defend yourself. But whatever happens, my little bee, we'll protect you."

Muriel nodded and took a sip of tea, "Hm... this human drink is absolutely delicious."

Crowley, now with a mocking expression on his face, said, "For starters, you need to stop putting 'human' everywhere. It's the best way to show that you're weird. Not that you're not." 

He snorted slightly.

Muriel, not offended, replied, "I'm glad to see you're doing better than when you came down. I mean, you're still grumpy, but you don't look sad."

Crowley replied, "Sassy and sharp, huh? That's good, it'll help you."

They were right, he was feeling a little better. While he had originally planned to stay in bed all day, he didn't feel like it now. He still didn't really know what to do with himself, but he didn't feel like doing nothing either.

"Do you need help?"

"We'll protect you."

To have a purpose.

Big or small.

"Oh, you're both here?"

Aziraphale's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He saw the flash of surprise in Aziraphale's eyes before he leaned over and planted a light kiss on his cheek.

Muriel emptied their cup and stood up, "I stopped by to borrow a book and Crowley helped me make some tea."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at Crowley as Muriel continued, "And now I'm off."

As they left, Aziraphale sat down next to Crowley and asked gently, "Are you all right?"

Crowley nodded, "Better."

Aziraphale asked no more questions, went to make himself a cup of tea and returned to sit across from Crowley with his cup

Crowley took a sip of coffee and said, "I... I think I'm starting to realize something. In my darkest moments, what kept me going was you. Knowing that you needed me. But ever since we averted the apocalypse, it's like you've soared, become independent. And believe me, it makes me happy to see you thrive, it really does. But it made me realize that you don't need me anymore. I had made you my sole purpose, you had nothing to do with it, and that's been taken away from me. So why get up in the morning? What is my purpose? These questions went around and around in my head. This morning again. Until a few moments ago. And just now, something as trivial as showing Muriel how to make tea gave me the beginnings of a sense of purpose. That I might still have something to offer."

Aziraphale had listened carefully, and when Crowley had finished, he pulled his chair closer and took his hands.

"You say I had nothing to do with it, but I'm still sorry you feel that way. And I want to make one thing clear to you. I still need you. Not to save me. Not to help me. I just need you. In my life. Not because you can give me anything, but just because you're you. Just you. And yes, you have a lot to offer, I always knew that, you've given me so much from the beginning and I'm glad you're starting to see that for yourself. But know that my love for you, my need for you, will never depend on what you have or don't have to offer."

"Thank you for helping me. You're a really nice person."

Maybe it was starting there.

Crowley said quietly, "I know it's just a start, a very small start, but it's there."

Aziraphale leaned over him and said gently, "That makes me very happy for you. And I hope I don't sound too condescending, but I'm proud of you. Really."

Crowley simply said, "Thank you."

After a few moments of silence, Crowley said in a serious tone, "We have to protect them, no matter what."

"Who? Muriel?"

Crowley nodded and told the angel about his conversation with Muriel. 

"You see, I saw their 'desk' up there. Mostly I saw their loneliness. I saw how they were treated. To the point where they saw it as a miracle that Metatron needed them when you and I both know that they would have been just a pawn on his chessboard. I want to help them to know their own worth, to be able to stand up for themself, I-what, angel?"

Aziraphale looked at him and smiled fondly, "It's good to see you all fired up about something. And I think you're just the right person for it. I seem to remember an angel you helped in much the same way. That angel took a while to open his eyes, but that didn't stop you from persisting."

Crowley chuckled, "Well, he was a bit of a pain in the ass at times, but..."

"Crowley!"

"But also incredibly lovable. I had no choice."

Aziraphale chuckled softly, "Idiot."

He reached up and gently stroked the demon's cheek and asked solicitously, "Are you sure you're all right, my dear?"

Crowley nodded and replied quietly, "I think so, yes. Anyway, I'm on the way to."

Aziraphale looked at him in silence for a few moments, then asked, "What do you want to do today? I decree the store is closed today."

Crowley chuckled before replying, "Well... we could go to the park, feed the ducks, and then finish off with brunch at the Ritz."

Aziraphale, whose eyes had brightened at the mention of brunch at the Ritz, replied enthusiastically, "I like that program. But first..."

Crowley raised a questioning eyebrow, "But first...?"

Aziraphale opened his arms and said quietly, "Time for some love."

Crowley laughed lightly, but nonetheless went to snuggle up to his angel, who closed his arms around him.

There, in the comfort of the arms of the one he loved, Crowley began to feel a weight he did not know he carried lift from his shoulders.

There was no doubt that the road was long and had only just begun.

There would be detours and setbacks.

But he knew there would always be someone to help him find his way back. 

All he had to do was keep moving forward and never let go of his hand.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[gnawingyou]

Ahh I speak English originally but I struggle to communicate clearly, sorry. In terms of paranoia induction etc, the responsiveness aspect is so gripping. I imagine even just walking in people’s blind spots to jab my fingers into their ribs, as a mild shock, even just a small jolt feels telling. The desire to destroy is equivalent to the desire to fix, for me - to understand a person with total efficiency and to crawl inside of his mind, that kind words and gestures, which feel backhanded but are delivered so sensitively, that he would gradually come to understand that there is nobody else who will ever see him with such attentiveness. If a simple gesture can spark fear, I wish it could walk the line of relief. A love of peeling off somebody’s skin and then caring for them indefinitely in such a vulnerable state. What saddens me the most is that I don’t anticipate finding somebody with such investment in their other, since it seems most people pursue pain or pleasure for egotistical reasons, and project a desire narrative onto those around them. Within a world of conceitedness, angels amongst men must appear in the form of those whose visions are unclouded by expectation, and in turn whose vulnerability may be torn apart, but who can enact such vicious retaliation to love and hate the same. Everybody wants to beat, or be beaten, with little consideration for what that achieves. If I could only remove his limbs but leave his teeth, he must be dependent yet has the autonomy to harm in return. Perhaps it is a very sterile notion.

I understand completely. When it comes to paranoia induction- or any kind of mental illness exploitation- the responses are the main appeal. I want to see how the human brain responds to different intense stimuli. Especially if it’s somebody I love, I want to see their reaction to everything I inflict on them, I want to be the reason for their crying, panic, hatred, delusions.

A lot of what I say comes with the desire to fix, too. Even if your aim is to break someone’s psyche, you can’t do it purely by breaking. You have to repeat some sort of cycle; for example idealisation before devaluation (ie. narcissistic abuse), or violent torture followed by sweet aftercare. The more trust you gain, the more opportunities you create. The more that they experience your attentiveness and compassion, the more they’ll open themselves up to be broken. Caring somebody in a vulnerable state is great for that, but like you said, it’s also a cute thing. Being someone’s source of comfort and support makes me happy; I want to be useful in a way that also makes them smile and laugh with me. Happiness is as fulfilling as fear.

I see how a lot of people pursue pain & pleasure for egotistical reactions, although I can’t fault them. It feels good and can be incredibly fulfilling, especially for someone who lack basic things from their life. They’re just another thing that makes you human, though it’s undecided whether that thing is good or bad. Most things are inherently neutral though, without context or mutual understanding. I will argue and say that wanting to beat/be beaten does achieve something, whether it’s simply pleasure or an end goal.

I really like how you phrased ‘If I could only remove his limbs but leave his teeth.’ It’s a beautiful way to phrase it. To force him to become dependent on you, but not helpless, because he will still have the ability to bite back. Albeit animalistic and primal, you reduce his reactions to something sub-human, unable to reason or react coherently. Only in a way his survival instincts will allow him. Strip him of his humanity. <3

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Beautiful Blood -- Sadistic Vampire Whumper Keeping Human Pets part 15

TW: violence, blood drinking, intimate Vampire whump, death, forced servitude

The days that came after were torturous, several strangers coming to feed on him, and he became nothing more than a source of revenue for Nyx, a main attraction.

Asher gave up hope of ever being free, of escape, it was easier to dissociate and disconnect than to face the grim reality.

At first he'd been defiant when he had the strength, cursing at Nyx, but now... it didn't matter anymore, he just let himself hang limp most days for vampires to do what they wished with him, giving up completely. He rarely even had the energy to scream anymore.

But today was different. Instead of the usual type of vampires Nyx brought, she arrived with a younger girl, appearing only a teenager, like himself, and interestingly Nyx didn't stay to monitor the feeding like usual, she left them alone together.

Asher tried not to look surprised, but it must have shown, because the girl giggled with amusement. "Not what you were expecting, was it?" She said, and her voice was smooth and melodic, polished in a way that made him realize she was much older than she looked.

"It's hard to tell with vampires, isn't it?" The girl added knowingly. She had long blonde hair that flowed elegantly over her shoulders, and she moved with enviable grace as she approached Asher.

"My name's Lily. What's yours?" She asked sweetly, which caught him off-guard.

"My name doesn't matter," Asher rasped hoarsely, then leaned his head back to clunk against the wall behind him with a broken sigh, exposing his neck. "Just... get it over with," he croaked.

The angelic smile fell from Lily's face. "...Your name, please," she said, though this time her voice lost its honeyed edge, sounding more like an order.

Asher tilted his head forward to look at her closer, trying to read her expression, which Lily was keeping carefully neutral, giving away nothing.

"...It's Asher," he finally answered.

"Asher. That's a nice name." Lily nodded to herself, trying the word out on her tongue before stepping closer. "And how long have you been in captivity here?"

Asher's brow furrowed with confusion. Why did she care? Why bother engaging in conversation? He had so many questions, but decided to respond as simply as possible.

"About a month or two by now... though it's hard to say when you rarely see daylight," Asher said wistfully, realizing just how long he'd gone without being outside in fresh air.

Lily's expression softened, almost... sympathetic, maybe? Even stranger. She reached out and brushed the hair away from his neck, letting her cold hand rest on his jaw. Asher leaned into it slightly without even noticing, it had been so long since he'd been touched by kindness instead of cruelty. Pathetic, he thought, that by now he'd seek comfort even from an enemy.

"I personally have always despised how Nyx treats those under her care," Lily mused. "It's a pity she's caused you so much harm." Her hands were gentle as she placed them on his neck, stepping forward and angling her head near him.

"I promise to be careful," she murmured into his ear. Then she delicately sank her fangs in, much slower and with far more care than any of the other vampires had ever been as she started to drink.

Asher let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding at how gentle it was, almost a pleasurable sensation compared to what he'd endured before as Lily drank slowly, sensually. He relaxed for the first time in what seemed like forever, his eyes fluttering closed with relief as his head lolled forward against her shoulder. It still hurt, but not as bad as usual.

He felt Lily chuckle against his skin as she felt the tension in him loosen, his pulse beating softly against her teeth. Her fangs stayed locked in place for several minutes before she finally pulled them out, lapping lazily at the wound to catch the escaped blood and make sure no drop went to waste as the bite healed over. She pressed a feather-light kiss to the fresh scar before lifting her mouth to his ear.

"Not bad, for a human," she purred quietly. There was a long moment of silence before she cautiously spoke again. "I have an offer for you," she whispered. "I get you out of this wretched mansion... give you your freedom... if you promise to visit me for regular feedings. I will allow you to return to your house... but you will come when I call for you. I'm a far more generous owner than Nyx is, in case you haven't already assumed." She offered a lopsided grin, her fangs still tinted red with blood, such an unusual contrast to her lovely pale face.

"And on top of that, I'm actually one of Nyx's greatest rivals, it would be a joy for me to steal her prized possession away. That alone is enough motivation for me to take you out of here."

Asher eyed her warily, not sure how much he could trust her words, but before he could say anything, she turned and headed for the door.

"--Wait!" He blurted, and she paused. "Will... Will I see you again?"

Lily turned back to smile at him in that too-perfect way of hers. "Of course. I have preparations to make, but I'll be expecting your answer during my next visit." She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a chuckle and left the room, leaving Asher alone in the pitch darkness he'd grown to embrace.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

[shalscumbunny]

Any yandere chase sequences with Shalnark and fem reader? Idk

Monsters

Summary: Shalnark's plans are somewhat modified by your arrival, but this is a clear sign and opportunity for him, after all, at some point you would have to learn that you would never be able to escape from him.

Pairing: Shalnark X F.Reader

Warnings: Murder of a relative, harassment, hacking, persecution, emotional and psychological manipulation, threats and coercion.

Author’s note: English is not my native language, so there are more than likely many mistakes, I apologize.

Sites: AO3

What exactly are monsters? Are they not horrifying? Are they not supposed to be the only ones who can harm you? So ... why doesn´t that blond boy look like one?

"Y/N..."

His factions are tender, his turquoise eyes are round and shine beautifully, his golden hair resembles those of an angel and his tone of saying your name sounded too beautiful.

But you observe him with horror, your legs tremble when he approaches you at a slow pace and caresses your face with his hand blood cover.

"This wasn't supposed to be the plan" Commented worried while you kept frozen "Didn't you come back tomorrow?"

You go back a step when he speaks to you so confident, you don't understand anything, his face does not sound to you, you don't know him and he speak to you as if he knew you about a lifetime.

You were terrified and stunned, the shock of your father's still warm blood adorning a part of your face was too much for you.

You saw the golden hair man turn your back and get his cell phone, he was calling someone.

"Chrollo, I thought you wouldn't answer, well whatever, I already got the information, I will pass it to you later"

You were completely unable to understand how he could speak as if nothing was happening, as if he didn't have a corpse bleeding next to him.

Your body trembled with terror and your eyes were full of tears that fell uncontrollably since that corpse was your father, your father with whom you had only spoken a few hours ago and now he remained on the floor with an expression of horror and his blood surrounding him.

"Yes, apparently her daughter returned before and saw me, yeah, she's here ..."

When he mentioned you, your blood froze, would you die here?

"Yes, my plans change a little, but you said you didn't care and I could do what I wanted with her, she won't affect the mission, don´t worry"

When he mentioned doing whatever he wanted with you your feet moved back unconsciously, your survival instincts were on.

He looked at you, but before you could hear anything else come out of his mouth, your legs began running at full speed out of the house.

Before you knew it, you were a good distance from your house, with your breathing hard and your heart beating fast, your hands clumsily searched for your cell phone, but when you tried to call an emergency number, the cell phone itself canceled the call as soon as you tried to make it.

"What the hell?!" You said frustrated until you saw the message from an unknown number appear above on the screen.

“It's useless, Y/n, I always know where you are. Don't make it difficult, love"

"This must be a joke…" You said stopping and looking at your cell phone in horror.

"If you try to get help, I warn you that only you are going to be responsible for the deaths of more people, darling"

Your body started to shake uncontrollably again, you didn't know what to do, you even dropped your cell phone on the floor.

Your breathing froze when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn't even dare to turn around in fear and you only expected the worst.

"Y/N? What happened?" Hearing a familiar voice caught your breath.

"Alisson!" You screamed through tears of relief, joy but also sadness, hugging her and trembling.

Allison looked at you worried and scared, of course the most worrying thing was the hand-shaped blood that decorated your face, red and hot from the effort of running and that was also stained with several traces of tears.

"God… Y/N, I'm taking you to my house, you're not well at all" Allison said, picking up your cell phone from the floor and making you walk.

You soon arrived at Allison's house and a couple of hours later you were wearing clothes that she lent you, while the one that was stained with blood stayed in a bag that was next to you on the couch where you were sitting, you had your eyes down and you couldn't stop crying still.

You hadn't let Allison call the police either, something about the warning from your father's murderer had you terrified, you even regretted being at Allison's house since maybe you had exposed her to some danger.

You were so stunned that you didn't even hear the door being knocked and then opened.

"Good night, is Y/N here?"

That voice was more than recognizable to you, it was literally ringing in your head at all times, your breathing accelerated with fear and you didn't even dare to turn to the door.

"Yeah, who are you supposed to be?" Allison asked protectively at the door.

"Oh, my name is Shalnark, nice to meet you" Shalnark introduced himself with a soft and calm voice.

Allison did not feel any type of terror, mistrust or dislike for Shalnark, in fact, she instantly generated trust in him, probably because of that angelic appearance and attitude that he had, nothing close to the monster that he really was.

"Yes, she's here" Allison allowed him to enter and he approached you almost running, hugging you tightly and supporting you on his chest.

You didn't know how to react to such an act, this made you even more uncool, he had hugged you with so much love, care and kindness that the words didn't even come out of your mouth.

Allison was more than touched by Shalnark's actions, she could see the love and genuine concern he had for you in his eyes.

"I'll leave you two alone for a while to talk" Allison said, going up the stairs to go to the second floor.

You tried to pull away from Shalnark, wanting to beg Allison not to leave you and to call the police, but Shalnark stopped you.

"Didn't you read the messages?" He asked you in a serious tone

"Get away from me or I'm going to scream" You threatened looking at his eyes

Your threat didn't help much, he didn't leave you, in fact he smiled at you cynically.

"You're so cute! I'd kiss you if I could, Y/N" Shalnark said caressing your back "I'll tell you that I planned several ways we could meet without it coming to this… but if you want to play like this, let's play"

You could only look at him with disgust and disgust, a deep hatred mixed with the terror you had of him but that didn't seem to touch him either.

"First of all, I'm Shalnark" He introduced himself, releasing the hug slightly "I present to you two options to get out of this, yes?"

"Don't talk nonsense" You hit his chest in annoyance, trying to get out of his hug.

"I'm not saying anything stupid" He said in a dry and cold tone that made you stay still "First option, you present me to the world as your boyfriend and submit to me completely, we will use the alibi I planned and we will get away with this"

His cold hand caressed your face very gently and after that he pressed his lips to your ear, exuding a sadistic smile as he spoke and causing you to shiver with his hot breath.

"Or you can not obeyme, go and tell your friend who I am, in less than a second I will kill her and leave without leaving any trace…" Shalnark said with a terrifying and honeyed voice "Do you know who will be the only one to blame? You…"

You were shocked, because the worst thing was that that tone of voice told you that Shalnark wasn't afraid of anything and that he didn't seem to be lying, you hated him, you felt so much disgust for him, just having him around made you want to vomit.

However, fear and everything that had happened altered that little courage you had, you felt the pain and anger stuck in your throat.

"Why!?" You asked starting to sob "What did I do to you? What do you want from me?"

Shalnark took your face in his hands, forcing you to face him. Now his clothes were clean, without a drop of blood, his hair was golden and neat, his eyes were round and bright turquoise… Aren't monsters supposed to be scary? Why did this monster look like an angel?

Before you knew it, Shalnark's lips pressed softly to yours, a warm, wet kiss that you obviously didn't reciprocate.

"You're so beautiful, even when you're crying and scared…" she kissed you again she pressed herself against you "You're so perfect…"

"I don't understand you" You replied trying to get away from him

"Sure, I guess I can tell you that. On an errand I ended up researching some things about your dad, since apparently not many people wanted him alive, just a stale, pathetic old man with no family except for his daughter. The truth is I thought about killing you first" Shalnark narrated caressing your face and smiling sadistically "But… when I saw you for the first time… I liked you a lot, Y/N…"

The only thing you could feel at that moment was disgust and displeasure, you wanted so badly to scream at him and spit in his face, run away and get as far away from him as possible, but when you saw his cynical and mocking smile you knew there was no escape and at the same time time you thought about Allison's security.

Shalnark giggled at your shocked expression, kissing his cheek affectionately and hugging you like you were a stuffed animal.

"It seems you already understand how things are going to be" He whispered with hot breath in your ear.

After a few minutes Allison came down, finding you still hugging, your expression was empty and sad, but you were no longer sobbing, for her it meant that Shalnark surely comforted you in the best way.

You stayed quiet as Shalnark told his made-up version of events, you snuggling into his chest as he rubbed your back and occasionally kissed your forehead.

"Thank God you came, at least Y/N will feel safer by your side… I'll call the police" Allison said, taking her cell phone and going to another room

You really felt anything but safe, you felt like a gazelle in the jaws of a lion about to die and be devoured.

"Your friend is so cute, I really like her, she definitely cares a lot about you" Shalnark said in a kind manner, but there was definitely mockery in his tone of voice.

"Go to hell" You muttered in annoyance.

"We are already in hell, love" He whispered, kissing your cheek "We will be together forever in hell and you will never be separated from me again, I promise"

Monsters are terrifying, they are cruel and the worst thing is that many times they can be behind a mask that makes you not suspect them and in the worst case… there will never be an escape from them.

Thank you so much for reading my shit 🖤

[iggy-gotthisaccountunderduress]

Dearest North Canadian,

I come forward with a confession of crimes and a desire for absolution that were committed roughly around 5:30 am this morning as I was working at my (establishment) today. Although my heart desires to make excuses and ramble and tell you all of the details, I shall be blunt. I must be blunt!

I was carrying a heavy container of hot maple syrup and it sloshed out the side of the square metal buffet pan as I was trying to open a door and it got all over the floor and my one pants leg (how I didn't end up with massive burns is nothing short of a miracle, and to that, I must credit some angelic iggster watching over me, perhaps taking pity on me in my distress).

I blame my eep deprivation (on accident i went to bed too early and woke up too early and had hard time falling asleep again).

Awaiting with great sorrow against the crimes against canadian citizens

birb.

(thisgotreally way more dramaticthanintended)

Dearest South Canadian,

This appears to have been a situation of much danger and no ill intent, therefore I absolve you of any crimes committed, however unintentionally, toward the citizens of North Canada and our beloved syrup.

I recommend in the future to acquire a larger amount of eep before attending to your establishment, and I am of the utmost happiness and relief that you are in no way hurt. 'Twould be an awful thing for you to be burned by the very thing I love so much.

With love and forgiveness,

Iggy of the North

[cabinboy100]

1899: Season 1: (Conspiracy) Theory: Undercover Clemence…?

Beware: Season 1 spoilers! If you have not watched all eight episodes of 1899 season 1, get thee to your streaming device and watch! Then come back for some outlandish connection-making and crazytalk theorizing based on a funny look, the wrong pants, and an envelope. =)

THE HONEYMOON IS OVER.

CLEM: Are you telling me this is my fault? LUC: Stop your little act. It's pretentious. Your parents aren't around anymore. It's fine. You don't love me, you never did. This is not a marriage. It's an arrangement. So you can stop pretending.

Lucien explicitly characterizes their marriage as a sham and releases Clemence from any obligation she feels to keep up appearances. He exits the cabin immediately after this and we see Clemence aghast, at a loss, for maybe three seconds. Then a change comes over her and her expression turns to lip licking satisfaction or anticipation. It is a pretty radical transformation, and remarkable to witness.

This may be relief and pleasure at being freed from playing the role of doting newlywed wife, but I like to think that it's something more—delight in something falling into place as planned.

SAY YES NO TO THE DRESS!

Later, when searching for survivors of the clock ticking siren song, Tove and Clemence wander into a certain cabin and Clemence is moved to wax philosophical on the compulsory wife and mother role of women in society. She does not find anything fulfilling in that purpose, a part she was raised to seek and play and accept. Inspired by the strength and independence she admires in Tove, she decides to declare her own independence from patriarchal expectations with a fashion flourish…

CLEMENCE: I feel ridiculous. Do you know what they say? That men invented dresses and heels so that women can't run away.

With this, she trades her skirts for a pair of trousers from an open wardrobe trunk, signifying her rejection of the societal expectations she has experienced placed on herself and women in general.

Her words and actions *are* a nice follow-up and follow-thru on her reaction to Lucien's real talk about the nature of their marriage. But maybe that's not all they are…

THE ENVELOPE, PLEASE…

Later still, when Eyk and Maura are reunited in the lifeboat launch bay of the archived Kerberos, Maura produces the envelope she received from her brother…

MAURA: The last thing I remember before waking up on board the Kerberos was finding the envelope in front of my door. I think my brother sent it.

This prompts each of the survivors* to produce their own identical envelopes.

*Except for Jerome, but I believe we've already seen that he has received one, as I'm certain that's how he acquired the information that led him to Lucien and his cabin on the Kerberos.

And just like everyone else, Clemence pulls her envelope out of her pocket. 

Correction—she pulls an envelope out. And not out of her pocket, but out of the pocket of the pants she is wearing! Whose pocket of whose pants, then? And whose envelope?

Let's take a closer look at that cabin she and Tove were in. Look there, behind Tove, over her left shoulder…

It's the wolf and sheep painting! They are in Angel and Ramiro's cabin! If you didn't notice it before, that is the painting that inspires Angel's wolf-sheep metaphor when he chastises his definitely-not-his-brother earlier. It is also the painting hanging in the sexytimes corner of their cabin.

In the boat launch bay, we see Ramiro pull out his envelope, so the pants Clemence is wearing—and the envelope contained in its pocket—must belong to the dear departed Angel!

I believe that Clemence has maneuvered her way into being counted as a member of a select subset of travelers aboard the Kerberos—those who have received envelopes from Ciaran. She did not receive an envelope herself, but is aware of them and who received them. How and why?

1. She is a passenger who remembers the envelopes and their recipients from a previous Prometheus loop or loops. This would mean that she is aware of the repeating nature of their world and is immune to or able to avoid the memory reset between loops, perhaps like Daniel and Elliot do, or perhaps thanks to an innate natural gift. She has experienced loops in which Ciaran contacted other travelers and realized that they always survived longer than she herself did. Once she understood this, she began trying to get her hands on an envelope and so make it to the end of a loop. In this scenario, she does NOT necessarily know that the loop is a programmed and hackable simulation.

2. She is an undercover "plant" of Father's, like First Mate. Her mission is to locate and acquire the exit key via more surreptitious means than kidnapping and extortion. Flashing one of Ciaran's envelopes is meant to ingratiate herself with Ciaran's "chosen", a subset of travelers who for whatever reasons manage to keep closer to Maura by the end of a loop than most everyone else on board. This in the hopes of getting a chance to locate or even seize the key for Father.

3. She is an undercover "plant" of Ciaran's, a traveler selected—or created?—by Ciaran to maneuver herself into an ever-tightening spiral orbit around Maura for the duration of each loop.* And she may be doing so without being consciously aware of it, hacked/programmed to do it at a subconscious level. 

We don't see her make any drastic moves that seem to directly affect Maura, but perhaps her being a connection between and for Lucien and Jerome is an important role in itself. Producing the envelope in the launch bay bestows upon her some mystery cred, "proving" that she belongs among the final survivors of the loop.

*This is the weakest explanation that's come to me, because if she is Ciaran's agent, there's no reason he couldn't pump up her story and inventory with an envelope of her own. I say "no reason" based on his already demonstrated ability to materialize envelopes containing traveler-specific content for others.

4. She is a passenger whom Daniel has tweaked to be an agent in his plans, programmed to contain a piece of code vital to Maura's exit. She operates completely independently and in character to go unnoticed, but her ultimate goal is to be one of the last travelers standing when the Kerberos is deleted and the simulation shut down. She contains a vital piece of code that is only effective at the moment of ship deletion and in conjunction with the activated key, saves Maura from deletion and/or reboot into a new loop. Sure, Daniel never mentions her role, but why would he, when doing so would only expose her to Father and his henches?

5. Some other crazy possibility… =)

Of course, if crazytalk notion 1, 2, or 3 is true and Clemence ends up with Angel's envelope by design, it doesn't seem to get her—or her puppetmaster—anywhere, right? But we have only been privy to this last loop. Perhaps in previous loops Clemence is not one of the last travelers standing, is not immune to the click ticking, or does not have a friendly exchange about prisons with Jerome on deck, or does not enter Angel and Ramiro's cabin with Tove. We just witnessed the latest attempt, and the closest she's gotten to Maura and the key. Who knows? Perhaps she has won enough of Maura's trust in this last loop that Maura will wake her in 2099 and Clemence will be able to proceed with the *next* phase of her mission. =)

Are her earrings another sign of her secret agenda and/or allegiance? Perhaps, but the "Earth" triangle icon/logo appears in so many elements and contexts, it's difficult to say when it is significant and what it's significance might be beyond as an artifact and clue that the world of the Kerberos is not as real as its passengers and crew believe.

Wake up 🜃

Keep on keepin’ on~

[rainiishowers]

If requests are open, can you do a little headcanon thing about Barbatos being saved by Simeon because there was a rat? And maybe the side characters + MC's reaction?

Have a good day!

Because MC is a general character, I decided to do Sapphire's (my MC) reaction for the lols --- Short Story

Luke and Simeon were in the castle's kitchen, waiting for Barbatos. The young angel had managed to convince his care-taker to stay and taste-test whatever recipe Barbatos think he's ready for. However, the butler was taking suspiciously long and the two angels were getting worried. "Just wait here, Luke. I'll go try to find him." Simeon ruffles his charges' hair and sets off to find Barbatos. It took a bit but when Simeon found Barbatos in the hallway, frozen still. When he got closer, he saw a rat staring back up at him. "Barbatos?" "Ah.. Simeon, apologies." The butler choked out, sounding uncharacteristically small. Simeon knew about his rat fear, with Barbatos asking countless times for no one to mention the creature in front of him. "I'll get something to pick it up safely." Reactions

Diavolo

As far as the prince knew, Luke and Barbatos were baking together

However, when he got up from his office to take a break, he saw Barbatos in the hallway, having a face off with a rat

He lets out a small laugh, but he does go over to see if he wants any help

When his butler informs him that Simeon is grabbing something supposedly to pick it up, he nods

Barbatos asks the prince if he cannot mention this to anyone, offering to get off his back about paperwork for a while.

Diavolo happily nods and goes to help Simeon find something

Luke

It was very unlike Barbatos to be running late, the young angel always thought of him as very punctual

He trusted Simeon to find him so he busied himself with reading and trying to understand the recipe Barbatos had laid out

Eventually, Simeon came back

"Simeon! Did you find Barbatos?"

"I did, however.. He encountered a rat and now I'm on the search for things to help get rid of it"

"..Couldn't you just... poof it away with magic?"

"Now Luke, you can't rely on magic for everything."

"Guess that makes sense.."

Barbatos

Why, out of all days, why did this cursed rodent have to appear today?

Not that he tolerated any rodent in the castle to begin with..

Those beady black eyes stared up at him, mocking him, so he did what was only right

Stare right back at it in an equally as mocking manner

When Simeon came looking for him, a bit of his pride crumbled,

Though, he was thankful for the angel offering to get supplies to exterminate it.

He told him where to find the necessary tools and asked him to be quick

When Lord DIavolo came around, his pride crumbled even more as he tried to compose himself

The prince offers to help when Barbatos tells him Simeon went out to look for things

He agrees, and asks if they cannot mention it to anyone, in exchange for time off work, which the prince takes, much to his further relief

Simeon

It was surprising to him that Barbatos would be late

Obviously, after a bit, he left Luke in the kitchen to go and find him

Simeon did find the butler, having a stare off with a rat

It made him laugh a bit as he approached

After a bit of teasing back and forth, Simeon offered to get some things to help --in Barbatos' words-- exterminate it, and the butler told him where to find such supplies

With the help of Diavolo and Luke, they did find the materials to get rid of it, and the baking lesson finally started

Solomon

When Luke relayed this story onto him and Sapphire, who came to visit Purgatory Hall later that day, he couldn't help but laugh

Oh how Barbatos' pride must be hurt..

He did feel bad though, having to stand there for god knows long, staring at your worse fear

It reminded him of when Barbatos called him asking him to come to the castle because there was a rat

Ah good times...

Sapphire

As Luke told this story, Saph couldn't help but feel progressively sadder for him

She has been meaning to ask why he detests them so much, but if he had to take a guess, it's probably because rats are associated with filth most of the time

"I mean, I would react like that if I encountered a sea animal"

"Haven't a similar situation happened, when Satan and I took you to an aquarium?"

"Don't remind me. I still hate you for that."

[ineffable-kelpie]

Did We Win?

Rating: G

Wordcount: 836

Prompt: A "jumping into the other's arms" hug

Characters: Angel!Crowley, Angel!Furfur

-

Kokabiel wasn’t entirely sure how they’d ended up at war. They hadn’t expected it to go this far. One minute, Lucifer was talking about how the angels’ work ought to be better appreciated, which made a lot of sense to Kokabiel, and the next they were all running helter-skelter across the plains of Heaven to avoid getting blasted apart by holy light. Which made significantly less sense to Kokabiel. Their disagreements hadn’t seemed like anything that couldn’t be solved with reasonable discussion, but how was anyone supposed to hear their questions when they couldn’t stand still long enough to ask?

Kokabiel wasn’t much of a fighter. They’d spent their existence engineering celestial bodies, not training for combat. So when they found themself quite unexpectedly in the midst of battle, they did the only logical thing and ran away to hide until it was over. If everyone else was so determined to kill each other, they could knock themselves out. Kokabiel would just try to stay alive until the dust settled.

They didn’t feel bad about it. They knew they weren’t the only one. They knew that because Thuriel was faster than them, and was usually running just ahead of them. Kokabiel had tried climbing on their back to hitch a ride a few times, but it turned out Thuriel was less willing to carry them when they were actively under attack. Kokabiel couldn’t really blame them, but they could, and did, complain about it when the battle was over.

Kokabiel had lost track of Thuriel this time. They pressed flat to the ground inside a particularly well-shielded crater that someone’s halo had left, and resented Thuriel for giving them the slip. They’d probably found a better hiding place that they weren’t willing to share. Selfish git.

Kokabiel really hoped Thuriel had found a good hiding place.

The booms and yells of battle were dying down. Kokabiel waited until it was silent. A stray explosion made them flinch. They waited again. Nothing. Finally.

They sat up and stretched, blinking around through the smoke. The plains were so scarred and scorched that they were unrecognizable. Kokabiel got unsteadily to their feet. There was no one in sight. “Er, hello?” they called quietly. “Anyone?”

In the distance, Kokabiel heard shouts. Which side were they coming from, Lucifer’s or God’s? If Kokabiel approached the voices, would they be destroyed or welcomed back? Was there any way to tell? Through the haze, they could just make out a figure walking. “Hello?” Kokabiel called, approaching cautiously. “What happened?”

The figure stopped. “Who’s there?” said Thuriel’s voice.

“It’s me,” Kokabiel called back in relief, hurrying forwards. “It’s Kokabiel. What happened?”

“Where were you?” Thuriel said accusingly. “Could’ve sworn you were right behind me.”

“What happened?” Kokabiel asked again, now near enough to recognize Thuriel. “Did we win?”

Both of them looked around for an answer. “Well, you’re making a lot of racket, and no one’s come to kill us,” Thuriel observed. “So I guess the other side must have left.”

They must have won, then, and forced Heaven’s army back. That hadn’t happened before. Kokabiel let out a screech of delight and jumped into Thuriel’s arms. “We won!”

“Oi!” Thuriel yelled, catching Kokabiel and staggering back a few steps. “Give an angel some warning!”

Kokabiel let go. “Let’s go find the others. Turn around, let me up on your back.”

“No! You’ve got two legs, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but—” Kokabiel looked down at their legs, wondering if it was too late to fake an injury.

Below their feet, spiderweb cracks appeared in the firmament, branching and spreading off ahead of them as they watched. Odd. Maybe the aftermath of a particularly big explosion. As Kokabiel opened their mouth to comment, the ground shook. Both angels stumbled for balance. “What was that?” Kokabiel asked, looking at the ground. The cracks were still spreading. “Is that good?”

Thuriel didn’t answer.

“Thuriel?” The ground shook again. Kokabiel reeled and fell to their knees, scraping their hands as they caught themself. The firmament was starting to crumble and come apart around them. Chunks of it fell away, leaving gaping holes in their place. That didn’t make any sense. Where could it be falling to? The material universe? But no stars glittered in the pitch-dark chasms that opened up. What was underneath Heaven?

The question filled Kokabiel with fear. What was underneath Heaven?

Around them, hidden in the smoke, angels were screaming. At least, it must have been angels that were screaming. Kokabiel had never heard angels sound like that. “What’s happening?” they asked, even though they knew Thuriel didn’t have any more answers than they did.

A jagged crack opened up between the two of them. They both looked at it, then up at each other. “I don’t think we won,” said Thuriel.

The ground shuddered again, and the section where Kokabiel stood began to sink. “Well, that figures,” was all they could think to say before it plummeted into the darkness, taking Kokabiel with it.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Clip Show: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Your phone rings, and you answer it after seeing Castiel's name on it. This will upset Dean even more, so you step off to the side to answer it.

"Is everything okay?" you ask. "How are the kids?"

"Protected. I'm damaged, sure, but I can protect your kids."

"What do you need, then?"

"What does Dean like? I'm at the store and figured I can have food waiting by the time you three get home."

"Oh, that's very nice of you. Well, he loves cherry or apple pie. Beer is his go-to drink, but he loves an expensive whiskey. He loves cheeseburgers, so if you get the ingredients, I can make them when we get home. He loves bacon. Maybe get him a porn magazine or two. He loves that stuff."

"Thank you."

"Hey, would it be possible to do that thing you did on my ribs to my kids'? If monsters wanted to get to me, they'd go through them. I don't want anyone finding them."

"Yes, of course. I'll make sure it's as painless as possible."

"Thank you, Castiel. You're one of the good ones," you whisper.

"I appreciate that."

"I'll call you later," you say when you see Father Thompson coming back.

Once you have everything in hand, it's back to the Bunker you go. However, when you get there, Castiel and the kids are nowhere to be found.

"Castiel? Joanna?" you call out.

"Great, you left our kids in the hands of a psycho person and now they're gone. Are you happy now?" Dean says angrily.

"Don't panic just yet. They're probably out. Castiel did call me saying he was picking up food... eight hours ago."

"Can't we have another angel track them?" Sam offers.

"What other angel do we know?"

"I kind of asked Castiel to brand their ribs like ours so they couldn't be traced," you say slowly.

"Fucking unbelieveable. That's just awesome, Y/N."

"Dean, you need to calm down. I feel them, okay? My magic connects to them. They are alive and well. I'd feel it if they were hurt or--"

You stop yourself from saying that word. Seconds later, your kids appear in the Bunker without Castiel. He must have dropped them off and gone to someplace else. Dean rushes to his kids and brings them in his arms, kissing both of them.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes Daddy. We went shopping," Joanna grins.

"See? They're fine," you breathe a sigh of relief.

"For now."

You three look through the boxes for something that's usable.

"You think Cas blew town?" Sam asks.

"Sounds like him." Dean looks through a box and finds a tape recorder taped to a journal. "It turns out that Father Thompson recorded all of his demon-cure tests. This one here was the last one--two days before he died."

Dean plays the recording for everyone to hear.

"The date is August 3, 1958. This is trial nineteen, hour one. My subject is Peter Kent. Mr. Kent is the father of two young sons, and three weeks ago, he was possessed by a demon. I'm going to ask you a question now. When you crawled into Mr. Kent and ate his children, how did it feel?"

"Orgasmic," the demon snarls.

There is some struggle, and the demon groans in pain.

"The first dose has been administered."

"Do we know what Father was dosing him up with?"

"His own purified blood."

"Purified? How?"

"Before he started, Father Thompson went to confession."

"This is trial nineteen, hour two. When you ate his children, how did it feel?"

"Stringy!" The demon yells, groaning in pain again.

"The second dose has been administered. Hour four. When you ate his children--"

"Kiss my ass!"

"How did it feel?"

"Soft. Aaah!!"

"The sixth dose has been administered."

"Stop," the demon begs.

"How did it feel?"

Dean skips through some of the recording through the session, stopping towards the end.

"Hour eight, the subject is prepped. When you ate his children, how did it feel?"

"They were screaming... and I laughed. Why did I laugh? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, I was a monster," the demon sobs.

"But now you are a man again, and you have been saved."

"Did he just cure a demon?" you ask slowly.

"Apparently. Could we take this hoodoo on a test drive?"

"I mean, I have the exorcism right here. All we need is the blood, consecrated ground, and a demon. So, what? Do we summon a demon and trap it?" Sam asks.

"Or we use one that we've already tagged. Do we still have dad's old army field surgeon's kit?"

"It's in the trunk, why?"

"Yeah, I think it's time we put humpty dumpty back together again."

"No, I do not agree with this. She killed all those people back then. She does not deserve to be put back together," you say.

"Two against one," Dean says.

You know this is a really bad idea, but you go with them anyway to make sure they are safe. Abaddon is bad news, and putting her together just to cure her is only going to end up with people dying.

"Can I just say this is a really bad idea? Let me go on the record that when this blows up in our face, I was against this the whole time."

"Do you really think this will work?" Sam asks, ignoring you.

"Dude, we have needles and thread. We've seen 'Young Frankenstein' about a thousand times. Yeah, we're golden."

Sam and Dean dig up Abaddon's body and recover her head. It's disgusting, but Dean sews her head back on. The only thing he doesn't sew back on are her hands. They're still locked inside a box, but the box has been recovered just in case.

"This isn't a good idea," you say for the fifth time.

Once Abaddon has her head screwed on tightly, she opens her eyes. She cracks her neck and sighs in relief.

"Morning, sunshines," she grins.

"It worked. You owe me a beer," Dean nudges Sam.

"I owe you three so, so much. I can't wait to tear out those pretty green eyes."

"For the record, I was against this," you point out.

"It's going to be kind of hard to do that. We figured kitty didn't need her claws," Dean smirks.

Abaddon looks down to see her hands are missing.

"Then I'll stump you to death. It'll be swell."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen, either. The bullet, remember? So, you sit there like a good little bitch. We're gonna consecrate the ground, and you're gonna get to fessing up."

"Oh, I know this tune," she grins. "Father Max Thompson, born October 12, 1910. Died August 5, 1958. Who do you think ripped him apart? Word got back to the home office that Maxie was messing with things, so we made an example. It wasn't my most artful kill, but it was effective. Plus, before he died, he told me all about Josie Sands. I found her, and I rode her into the Men of Letters, and what I did to them, that was art."

"So, you know what Max was doing?"

"Fella screamed the basics, but it'll never work."

"You keep telling yourself that."

Dean's phone rings, and he sees it's Crowley calling. You know this because the caller ID reads "666".

"Hello, boys."

"What do you want, Crowley?"

"Crowley? The salesman?"

"Try the King of Hell," you state.

"This is a joke, right?"

"Stay."

Dean and Sam leave the warehouse to take the call, but you're worried about leaving Abaddon on her own. Something is going to go wrong, you know it.

"If it wasn't a good idea to bring her back to life, it's sure as hell not a good idea to leave her alone," you shout after them.

"Then you stay with her," Dean says back.

You look at Abaddon and she grins widely at you.

"Nice kids... I bet they taste delicious."

"Mama," Joanna whimpers.

"Fuck this."

You take Joanna's hand and lead her outside to where the brothers are."

"How'd you get this number?" Sam asks the King.

"This isn't a social call. I was wondering. Have you three been reading the papers, say, Denver Times from yesterday? No? Well, you should. It's side-splitting. What the hell, I'm sexting you an address. Check it out, then we'll talk. Cheerio."

"Wait, what? Crowley?"

Crowley hangs up before giving more information. Dean pulls his phone away to look at the text he sent.

"Here it is. Vic's name is Tommy Collins. Tommy. Why do I know that name?"

"Tommy Collins is someone we saved from a Wendigo like forever ago," you say, remembering the events like it was yesterday.

"Tommy." You heard Hayley say and she started crying, going over to her brother who was hanging from the ropes. You were too far away to see if he was alive or not.

"I wouldn't do that." You warned Hayley when she reached to touch her brother's cheek. She didn't listen and did it anyway. You watched to see what would happen and jumped, startled when Tom jerked awake.

"Cut him down!" Hayley demanded of Sam.

You saved him, and now he's dead because of Crowley.

"Okay, you think that Crowley blew his head off? What are we dealing with here? Some sort of Demon-Wendigo team-up?"

"I don't know."

"We'll pour one out for Tommy later. As far as Crowley goes, fuck him. We have everything we need to put him in a permanent time-out."

You three head back inside, and just like you predicted, Abaddon is gone... and so are her hands.

"Shit! She's gone! Son of a bitch!" Dean yells.

"Is it too late to say 'I told you so'?"

"Shut up," Sam and Dean say at the same time. Sam's phone rings, and he checks the message that Crowley sends him. "It's a text message from Crowley with an address in Prosperity, Indiana."

"Prosperity? Didn't we work a case there? Yeah, the one with the witches and the baked goods. Is he going after somebody there now?"

"I don't know. We have to check it out."

"You know it's a trap."

"Of course it is, but a trap means demons, and we can use one right now."

Since Crowley put a timer on these people's lives, Dean tries to get there as soon as possible. However, soon is not soon enough. You barge into the house, but the damage has already been done. Jenny Klein is lying dead with her corpse burned by the oven.

"Jenny Klein's next. I swiped her photo off a hex deck, but Maggie's gonna notice it's gone eventually. We got to get over to Jenny's."

There is no time to waste. Jenny could already be dead for all you know. You haven't looked at the clock to see how long it took Dean to drive there, but you know it didn't take more than ten minutes. The normal thing to do is knock on the door and wait until she answers, but this isn't one of these times. You bust down the door to her house to see a true tragedy happening.

Jenny is at her sink choking on something red. There are fresh cupcakes on the counter with one with a bite taken out of it. They look like red velvet cupcakes, but you knew that's not the red stuff you see Jenny choking on and throwing up. There is a bleeding heart in the cupcake that she took a bite out of. The other cupcakes aren't touched, but you know they have tiny hearts in them as well. Sam and Dean rush to Jenny to try and help her while you search for the coin.

"Find the coin, now," Dean yells.

You don't argue with him this time. You could search through the cabinets manually in hopes you can find the coin in time. However, your magic will do a faster job of finding it than you will. Immediately, a blue mist forms at your fingertips. You use your right hand to spread your magic around like a big blue misty cloud. It starts at the nearest cabinet and works its way throughout the kitchen.

As soon as the magic finds the coin, it stays in that spot until you can grab it. You snatch the coin from its hiding place and lay it flat on your right palm. Your magic heats up the coin until it dissipates into thin air. As soon as the coin was destroyed, Jenny felt a lot better.

"Are you okay?" you ask her, but she doesn't answer.

"Shit, we were too late," you sigh.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[aeoki]

SHINSEKAI - Magicians of ES: Chapter 9

Location: ES Idol Exclusive Inn (Valkyrie’s Room) Characters: Shuu, Sora, Natsume & Tsumugi

< Ten or so minutes later. Reality. In “Valkyrie’s” room in the ES idol exclusive inn. >

Shuu: …………

Natsume: FuFU. Things must have been rough for you, Nii-san.

How are you feeliNG? Do you have a headacHE? Make sure you let me know if your body is feeling odd or unweLL. We’ll have it checked out by the medical specialists who are standing bY ♪

Tsumugi: It was really interesting, Shuu-kun~! For better or worse, it made me laugh seeing you running about in confusion in the strange world ♪

I don’t know if that comes naturally to you or if it was all planned, though. Surprisingly, maybe you really are cut out for variety.

Shuu: …Hmph. Stop talking to me in rapid succession. Do you like me that much or something?

I’ve only just woken up so I can’t think straight. I can’t even give a proper response.

Tsumugi: Yes. Please have a good rest. Your rest period is about a week starting now, so don’t overdo it and rest up.

I assume you have a mountain of things you want to ask us, but we’ll do our best to provide answers within our limitations as much as we can.

Shuu: Who do you think I am? I don’t have any questions. I have more or less an idea of what you all are thinking and what your goals are.

That’s why I pretended to dance in the palm of your hand while also fulfilling my own goals.

Tsumugi: What~? That sounds like a bunch of sour grapes. It’s a bad habit to put on a bold front pointlessly like that, you know?

Shuu: …In any case, I don’t see Kagehira but I assume he has properly returned to reality?

Sora: HaHa~♪ Mika-chan-san behaved unexpectedly so it looks like the processing is taking some time~

Shuu: Behaved expectedly?

Sora: Yes! He ignored the options given to him by the “Goddess of the Spring” and cut down the stuff he didn’t like with a chainsaw~

Shuu: Ahh, now that I remember, he did purchase a chainsaw at the town’s weapon store…

He’s always like that but whenever I tell him to choose the one he likes, he always ends up choosing the most sinister option there for some reason.

Tsumugi: Ordinarily, a chainsaw isn’t a tool of evil, though.

Shuu: People are controlled by mental images.

It’s the same as hearing the words “emperor” and “angel”. Despite being such elegant words originally, they bring unpleasant feelings to both you and I, Boy.

Natsume: In comparison to you, Nii-san, it was my intention to not let those feelings show even if I’m not happy with iT.

Shuu: Is that so? If that’s what you say then I would like to believe those words.

But you appear to be tied down by the past far more than I am, so I’ve been worried about you.

Every time you try to desperately forget it, the memory settles in the back of your mind. Every time you avoid looking at it, it turns into a huge monster in your fantasies and swells up to the surface.

Fighting a monster created from my delusion simply feels empty.

Natsume: …………

Shuu: That’s why I’m fairly relieved right now, Boy.

Natsume: ………?

Shuu: You’re moving forward as well. Just like I am.

Within that “SHINSEKAI” you forced me to experience…

There was no sight of the hatred that was associated with Yumenosaki’s war, “The Five Oddballs” or the other things of the past.

It was simply nonsensical and I couldn’t understand it, but there was something new there.

You didn’t create that eccentric world to bury the past but to be happy in the future, didn’t you?

I don’t know the truth but that’s what I felt, so that’s why I could breathe a sigh of relief.

I’m sure it’s because you teamed up with Aoba of all people. Even after “Switch” was established, it seemed you were still obsessed with the past.

Natsume: …………

Shuu: Ever since “The Five Oddballs” came to their end, you were still living the present as an extension of the past.

You had regrets and it looked as though you were trying to clear them away, but that act itself was eating away at you.

Recently, have your inclinations not changed?

Natsume: PerhaPS. Ever since Sora became the centre oF “Switch”, I do feel like things have gotten easier in comparison to befoRE.

Sora: HiHi~? Yes! That’s why Sora is here!

Natsume: FuFU. In the past, I do think I was intent on doing everything by myself with my own two hanDS.

And maybe, fundamentally, I haven’t changed at all in that aspeCT.

But every time I make a blunder, my nosy Senpai points the mistake out and tells me it’s a good example of what not to dO.

We were once prisoners to our gloomy paST, but the precious children who see the world differently from us… Sora will lead us to a more brilliant worLD.

This “SSVRS” experiment isn’t something small that I can personally control based solely on my wishes, after all.

Now that other people’s wishes are also involvED, it would be impossible to have everything saturated in my coloUR.

On the contraRY, maybe that was for the beST… I have a feeling I was able to call upon my ideal turn of events without having to show my bad habiTS.

Shuu: I think that’s fine as it is. Unlike me, you don’t know how to turn your hatred into power. You’re a gifted child who grew up showered with love and positivity, after all.

By becoming one of “The Five Oddballs”, you learnt new aspects about yourself, had a taste of your first defeat and frustration and tumbled down a hill.

You most likely had led a blessed life up until that point, so you didn’t know how to crawl up from the bottom of the gorge.

Therefore, you made little progress and it seemed you had no choice but to struggle.

But you gained a pair of wings called “Switch” and it was only recently when you finally learnt how to use them, and you finally began regaining your original self.

Acting all arrogant and confident as if you’re better than everyone else… That’s what suits you best.

You’re the most charming when you’re like that. You called yourself the god of “SHINSEKAI”, didn’t you?

Reigning over a miniature garden and painting the insides of it in your ideal colour. You’ve always been the best at doing those narrow-minded things.

Natsume: YeAH. I’ll build my own stage into the perfect piece of aRT. It’s also thanks to a certain someone that I got to learn their techniques up cloSE.

Shuu: What a cute thing you’ve just said.

Natsume: YeAH. I’m really glad I met you and the other Nii-sans, for a variety of reasoNS.

Even after a cruel war and a miserable defeAT, that has and will never, ever chanGE.

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[shebeafancyflapjack]

Loose Ends

Just some moments of Silver returning to BH after her..."visit" to @idiotwithanipad 's Gore Au

-

"Okay, here she comes, guys." Pat said, poking his head back through the door; "Now remember - let's all just act perfectly normal."

"Ha, that'll be the day." Alison quipped and laughed to herself.

Everyone just threw her a blank look, completely oblivious as to what she meant. The living woman cleared her throat and went quiet.

Less then a minute later, Robin passed through the door, with Silver at his side.

"HEY! HEY!" Everyone chorused, over enthusiastic, even Fanny.

"Look who it is! Our favorite hippy!" Cheered Julian.

"'Allo, Petal!" Greeted Pat, "How're you feelin'? Y'all right?"

Silver stared at them all, eyes wide, then turned to Robin, then back at them all.

A grin stretched slowly, almost painfully wide across her cheeks.

"HeheheheHEHEHEHE!"

Everyone paled. Even Alison, who had missed the strange events of the previous moon and only heard second hand accounts, looked absolutely horrified at the manic expression on Silver's face. Just as they'd described.

"Hehehehe, are you all here to play with me?!" Silver asked, innocently.

Robin gasped; "Oh no! Wrong Moonah Girl come back again! Was so sure brought right one this time!"

"Robin, man, how could you allow this to happen?!" Cap berated.

Silver's pitch lowered into a slightly deeper, mature cackle as she bent forward.

"Oh my gods, your faces! I can't believe you fell for that!" She creased up, her furry companion also bursting into laughter.

Everyone blinked.

"Silvy? It's really you?" Asked Kitty, hopeful but nervous.

"'Course it's me, gorgeous, c'mere." She crossed the short space to hug her friend tight.

The others all sighed with relief, Julian and Cap nudging Robin for their little prank. Both Pat and Thomas also swept in for hugs with their returned Pagan, while her and Alison had a brief "air hug".

"You really are okay?" They all fussed at once.

"Yes, honestly guys, I'm fine - Kitty, stop touching my hair! There aren't any leaves." She gently scalded; "Thomas, stop trying to touch Alison's hair."

Their living friend frowned at the poet who quickly retracted his hand back to his side.

"Well, c'mon then, you gonna tell us what happened?" Asked Julian.

"Yes, we need to see if your story matches the typically bizarre one that Robin's been telling us while you've been asleep." Said Cap, throwing the caveman a doubtful look.

Silver took a seat on the settee, Alison and Kitty and either side of her.

"Were you really being held prisoner by an evil version of Mary?" Asked the Georgian.

"She wasn't 'evil' exactly, just a bit...terrifying and unhinged but, yeah, that's the jist."

"And our Mary appeared to rescue you? Or I should say 'kick that witch's bony bum', as Robin so eloquently put it?" Fanny enquired.

Blushing a little, Silver nodded. That moment would stick with her for eternity. If she ever felt lonely or unloved again, she would summon to her mind that image of her mum appearing like an avenging angel.

"Yeah, pretty much." She smiled.

"And Robin fought an epic battle against his own evil self and the ghost of Muhammad Ali?" Asked Pat.

Silver threw the caveman a look.

He shrugged, coyly; "May have spiced up tale little bit."

-

They all sat listening, enraptured, to Silver's version of events from her perspective. From waking up in the woods outside Button House, to the witch assuming her to be some evil shape-shifter, to being freed and pardoned thanks to that word's Amy-

"Oh." Humphrey piped up; "She...She's still there then?" He asked, his head resting on a pillow on one of the side tables.

Silver gulped; "Yeah...She's okay, I think. She has her own Humphrey too."

She wasn't sure if that was a comfort or not to share with him. But Silver understood how difficult and complicated it must feel to know a version of someone you loved hasn't moved on in another world, even if it's not quite the same person.

Humphrey just blinked, his mouth twitching, looking as though he wasn't sure how to take it.

"Good for that bloke then, I guess." He muttered.

Silver continued her story, how the witch looked into her memories and seemed to change her motives completely, suddenly deciding she wanted to keep Silver as a second daughter. She explained all her attempts to escape and how she eventually reached out to their Amy through the great 'wall'.

"Hang on, if Mary was all dark and flamey, and Robin a savage beast....even more so-." Thomas began.

"Ey!" The caveman piped up in offense.

"What were the rest of us like?"

Alison cast Silver a look as if to say it was no surprise that the main thing some of them would want to hear about is themselves.

The Wiccan's brain flashed back to that very brief visit to the hotel of horrors in that word.

She looked at Thomas and imagined more blood drizzling from his bullet wound. She imagined Cap clutching at his chest and his arm all stiff. She imagined Fanny's neck and jaw all bent wrong. She imagined Pat's arrow gushing and Julian's even more disturbing horniness.

Silver pursed her lips; "You were all fine."

They all sighed in relief.

-

Once the story was finished, they all filled Silver in on what little, rather mundane stuff she'd missed in the past month. Nothing exciting, especially compared to a multiverse battle on the astral plane.

When the focus finally felt lifted from her and the group started chatting amongst each other again, Silver turned to Humphrey's head.

"Hey, can I have a chat?"

"Sure. We can use my girl's room to get away from these noisy gits." He smiled.

She picked him up and slipped out of the rook through the wall.

Once in Amy's old room, Silver sat on the bed and placed Humphrey in the tub at the side.

"How you really feeling, kiddo?" He asked.

"Ugh, don't you start, I said I'm fine!" She sighed.

"Yeah but, I mean, how you really feel and not just what you feel like you have to say in front of everyone." He gave her a knowing smile.

Silver blushed. He saw right through her, just as he always could with his daughter.

She tugged her knees in close to her chest.

"Amy already told you what I'd shared with her?"

"She might have implied a few things." He confessed; "All that stuff the...other Mary was doing to mess with your heads. I mean, my Amy only had the one experience, and I know it shook her up. She hates anything that makes her question what's real. But you...? You were there for..."

"The whole time. I mean, I spent most of the first night stuck in a tree cage, which wasn't fun." She sighed, "And then the next couple of days, she...She just kept sticking those dark tentacle things in my head and swirling my brains around...Fuck, I can still feel her!" She clutched at her skull, her stomach churning.

"Hey, hey, shh. You're all right. This is real. You can trust the talking disembodied head."

That made her laugh, snapping her back out of it.

"I know Robin's always worried about me dreaming more than I get to be awake." She explained, "But I was always so sure I could handle it, that I could tell what was real from what was in my head. But the things she did? Made me see...feel...taste."

"Taste?"

"Yeah, she knew every weakness to use against me. Including my sweet tooth. I felt like Gretel being lured into a Gingerbread house. Except I hate gingerbread so it was a house made of Mars bars."

"Ooh yeah, they always looked good. You're a stronger soul than me, kiddo." He chuckled; "One dish of roast lamb and gravy, I'd have been her eternal servant, in a heartbeat."

Silver blushed at that. There had been so many moments where she'd felt tempted to give in. To just enjoy everything the witch was offering her.

"It weren't just the food and the dresses and the magic stuff, cool as that was." She said, wistful, "It was whenever she put on her 'normal Mary' disguise and just...cuddled me. Told me she loved me. Said how much it meant for me to stay...It was..."

"I know, Silv, love." He replied, sympathetic; "Whoever her dad was in that world, I think if I laid eyes on my Poppet and she wanted to be with me....I'd have a hard time wanting to leave too. Don't beat yourself up over it. You've been to Hell and back. Literally."

That was what she needed to hear. Whenever she remembered how close she'd come to submitting to the witch's wishes and letting herself be broken into what she wanted, she felt ashamed. Ashamed for almost giving up, ashamed for nearly forgetting her friends here. Her real mum.

She rubbed at her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Humphrey."

"What for?"

"For...everything before. After Amy...left. Spending time with your body and making you think..."

"You already apologised for that, Silver." He tutted; "I should have said it earlier, but I forgive you, kiddo. We were both suffering. Robin's the one I eventually realised I should be pissed off at for showing us up...but I think the great ape has paid for that enough and proven himself."

That she could agree with.

"Him and Amy and Mary...They're my heroes. I would still be trapped in that other world, if not for them." She said, fondly, feeling so lucky to be that cared about.

"Yeah but even before then, you didn't see what he was like when you..." He cringed; "Sorry, I mean, the other you. The one we all thought was you only..."

"Insane?"

"Dunno if that's the PC term but, you get it. It weren't nice at all, thinking that was you. That...everything had become too much for you to handle...Can definitely say it broke my heart." He admitted; "But Robin? I don't think I've ever seen a man so crushed. Even worse than when he heard about that Russian space dog."

Silver frowned. That she hadn't heard any details on. Not from Amy and obviously not from Robin.

"It really upset him that bad?" She asked.

"'Course it did. The bloke adores you, probably thinks you're moonlight incarnate." Humphrey smiled; "And he knows, better than any of us, what it's like to lose your marbles. I know I came close while I was grieving my Amy, locking myself away in here."

"Which you're not doing anymore....Right?" Silver clarified.

"So long as you're not going off into the woods alone when you feel down. Deal?"

The Pagan smiled and scooped Humphrey back out the tub to hug him close and give his hair a kiss in thanks. He chuckled against her nape.

"S'good to have you home, kiddo."

-

"Hey, look I found awake on bed! Think she knew Auntie up and home."

Robin popped through the latch in the attic to where Silver was sitting on the roof, a rather squirmy and squeaky wolf cub in his hand.

Silver's heart swelled; "Kya! Oh c'mere, sweetie."

She gladly took the newborn pup and held her to face level, letting that tiny tongue reach the tip of her nose for kisses.

"Oh I have missed my favorite neice." She gushed, taking her down to her clavicle; "Don't tell Alison I said that."

Robin shifted to sit beside her, the stars and moon hanging bright over them.

"Me think she knew Moonah Girl not you from start. Acted like she stranger. So different now." He smiled, watching the little thing yawn and snuggle beneath Silver's chin.

"Hmm, you and Amy, ey Kya." She murmured, softly; "You both put your dad's nose to shame."

In the side of her vision, she saw Robin wince and look down at his boots.

"I was only kidding." She told him.

"No. It true. Me let Moonah Girl down." He sighed, "Both Stompy and Kya know from one sniff. But me?" He grunted; "Mary give one job. Take care of darling girl. Not only I mess up but when do right, it not even right Moonah Girl!"

She shuffled closer to him.

"You didn't mess up. You saved me."

"Only coz Stompy smart and have dream magic." He groaned; "Me useless. Did not even really beat Grumpy Evil Robin. Just...said words to make him change mind."

"And that's just as important as winning physically." She kicked his shin, gently; "C'mon, chess guy, you should know that."

He gave a bashful, crooked smile.

"Humphrey told me how upsetting it was for you to see...For you to think that other Silver was me...gone mad." Suddenly she burst out laughing.

He raised an eyebrow at her; "You gone mad now?"

"No! It's just kinda funny, the more I think about it."

The look he gave her said that nothing had ever been less funny in his afterlife. And he was usually a guy who found the joy in the darkest of times.

"Sorry...I know you were worried. Humphrey said that you never left...'my' side. You were determined to take care of me, being like that, for as long as possible?"

Robin shrugged and nodded; "It job...Have promise to keep." He sighed; "Sorry. Know you say Moonah Girl no need Robin 'nymore."

The defeat and sadness in his voice broke her heart.

"What I meant by that is...I don't need you to look after me, like it's a job or some...promise to keep for someone else." She explained, then reached to place her hand on his sleeve; "But I'm always gonna need a friend. Okay?"

He glanced down at her hand, then smiled. He reached to place his other paw over hers. Ready for a new promise between them.

"Okay, Moonah Girl."