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hawkland · 3 years ago

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Destiel fic recs #3 - the (mostly) longfic edition!

It’s been a while since my last rec post - mostly because I’ve been wallowing in a number of longer fics (50-350k!) so it’s taken me a while to have enough to talk about in one post (and boy do I talk a lot, here!)

With these longer fics, I do sometimes have some caveats with my recs - or at least reasons why they might not appeal to every Dean/Cas reader. But note that if I didn’t overall strongly recommend reading the fic I wouldn’t include it in my recs here at all, so any quibbles I bring up are minor compared to my overall enjoyment of the stories. Just, I don’t want someone to commit to a long read without knowing what they’re getting into and why it might not be their thing.

I’m still not into reading complete setting AUs at this time, but a lot/most of these are canon-divergence AUs, often written/set at the end of a season and giving an alternative take on what happened next. I love those kind of stories, as it’s often so interesting to see how fans thought of what might happen in the next season (especially when it’s better than what we actually got.)

Onto the recs & discussion behind the cut!

The Sinking Ship by UnfortunatelyObsessed (114k). This is a story that ripped my heart to pieces (in a good way!). I stayed up all night to finish reading because I simply couldn’t stop once I started on it and it gave me a massive fic hanger from all my emotions. Season 14 divergence, imagine if Dean did go into the Ma’lak box to trap Michael under the ocean with him forever...and once there, he discovers that Cas has stowed away with him. Because of course Cas would never leave Dean to such a fate on his own.

I loved literally. Every. Damn. Thing. About this fic. Cas telling Dean stories to pass the (endless) time. Their small intimate moments while realizing they can never consummate physically while trapped in the box but finding every other way to express their love. The absolute heartbreak that had me SOBBING when Michael fights for control of Dean and destroys everything they’ve built together and Cas thinks he’s lost Dean forever. Sam & Gabriel & Rowena & Claire & Jack doing everything they can to devise a plan back home to try to save them both while keeping Michael trapped. Also even just the wonderfully sensitive portrayal of aroace Jack still closely bonded with Claire and Maggie and just. And just. This is a story I’ve already re-read just to savor how much I loved it and its portrayal of everyone in TFW 2.0 and their extended family, it just hit my id in all the most incredible ways and I have nothing but absolute love for this one.

Beautiful Chaos by anyrei, mugglerock (141k). Season 9 canon-divergence, in which Dean doesn’t simply abandon Cas to fend for himself post 09x03. Instead he sets Cas up in a kind of squatter’s nest in an abandoned building near the bunker so he can keep tabs on him and help him out.

This fic definitely gets the award for FILTHIEST, HOTTEST, SMUTTIEST Dean/Cas (and Cas/other) I’ve read in, like, ever, for human!Cas turns out to be a rather insatiable sex fiend/cock slut and Dean is too up his own repressed ass to easily give Cas what he wants/needs. It is dark at times, Cas ends up in some very unsavory/non-con situations, and the authors do mention that they tried to hone in on endverse!Cas’s characterization more than what we saw in Season 9...so you might roll with it, you might not. I adored their original character Jerry the tattoo artist in this, and like I said it was seriously hot (if you are good with total bottom!Cas and Cas with others, I know those are not everyone’s cuppa). I did have a few minor issues. For one, the last chapter felt a bit rushed and hand-wavey, but clearly the authors weren’t fond of the canon conflicts of season 9 & 10 (Abbadon, Mark of Cain) and just wanted to be done with them. Can’t say I really blame them. And I did have to laugh a bit at Lebanon, Kansas apparently having such a bustling gay bar/tattoo artist/etc scene being someone from a butt-fuck nowhere American small town myself. But, SPN was never all that realistic in how Lebanon was shown (and yes I’ve spent too much time roaming around it on Google maps), so if you can suspend some disbelief this is an awesome hot/angsty/occasionally heartbreaking read.

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta (53k). I came upon this story when looking for fics that dealt in some way with the aftermath of Godstiel. This is a wonderfully atmospheric late Season 9 “fill-in” case fic (post Meta-fiction) where Cas ends up in a small town that had been visited by Godstiel...and while initially residents have reaped much good fortune, there has suddenly been a wave of deaths/bad events and he is determined to find out what happened and set things right. He calls upon Dean for help, but Dean is fighting the Mark of Cain and it’s going to take a lot to get past its control and find a way out for both of them. Together they work on repairing an old church while trying to repair each other and their damaged relationship.

I loved this story for how well written it was, really invoking a gothic small-town/Americana atmosphere. The original characters blend in very well with the case-fic at the center of it, and the author deals really well with Cas at a very fragile point when he’s running on borrowed grace and trying to navigate Dean’s MoC-enhanced anger. It’s Dean/Cas but actually much more of a Cas character study, so I highly recommend it to my fellow/compatriot Cas-girls who love a good wallow in his head.

Mixed Emotions by Tierra469 (50k). Canon 12 “parallel” fic that then goes canon-divergent with the season finale. I actually stumbled on this while in the mood to read some Cas/ or & Mary fic after enjoying their interactions in Season 12 (don’t hate me). This is sort of two fics in one. The first half focuses mostly on filling in the gaps with some critical S12 Cas episodes, especially Cas & Mary’s developing friendship (and one night of something more). But of course Cas’s feelings for Dean (and vice-versa) are always there, and when Cas figures out a way to get his powers fully back, the question is if Dean can open himself up to be vulnerable - and express love - the way Cas needs for this to work.

This was an interesting fic in a lot of ways. I loved the author’s take on angels’ connections to their vessels and grace, it was very consistent in a way the show sometimes/often wasn’t. Cas is very Cas in not understanding privacy and personal boundaries (so he does some questionable things, admittedly, which might squick some readers). The smut is fucking HOT - though I will caution at one point it involves Cas temporarily in a younger (NOT underage) female vessel (and the story does point out Dean’s discomfort with this and some of the consent issues involved, I don’t want to spoil too much). I wanted the Mary plot resolved more than it was, but I still recommend this story strongly for the quality of the writing and unique/well-developed take on angel lore and mechanics that was quite different from what I’m used to reading.

We Are Either Here Or Not Here by petramacneary (54k) A post-season 12 fic that goes on a different tangent to how Cas returns, and what happens in the meantime. Particularly, it offers a different take on what apocalypseverse!Cas would be like—as Mary makes her own way back from that world with AU!Cas as her prisoner.

What I loved about this story: first off, BAMF!Mary is awesome here. Dean is so heartbreaking, not quite knowing what the fuck to do with this different Cas who at times is just a painful reminder of who/what Dean’s lost...but then becomes a chance for Dean to say and express some of the things he always was afraid to in the past. And when (real/our) Cas finally returns, there’s some very interesting stuff that happens with both Cas & AU!Cas and Cas & Dean that I don’t want to spoil. (And let’s also just say that when real!Cas and Dean finally get together it’s AMAZINGLY awesome. Like, hot Impala!sex. So is the artwork that goes with this story.)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (353k) The longest fic I read this time around and probably the one I have the most mixed feelings about, but a while on I do keep thinking about parts of it so I do rec it with some caveats. This is a canon-divergence after the end of Season 11. Dean & Sam find Cas after he’s been blasted out of the bunker...to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Mary isn’t in this one except for a brief appearance/visit, which Dean thinks is Amara’s gift to him. Life seems good for a while, they’re enjoying dealing with mundane problems for a change, but then Cas seems to be pulling away from the brothers, spending less and less time with them at the bunker, taking a mundane job at another Gas ‘n Sip, and clearly preoccupied by something else. Or is it someone else? Dean is worried yet finally ready to accept that Cas maybe has a girlfriend, or a boyfried, but then it turns out that is not at all what Cas has going on. It’s something far more serious than that.

Honestly I almost stopped reading when the reveal happened - it’s a subject that’s very sensitive to me from personal/family experience and not something I usually like reading in fic (especially if there is a sad ending.) So I admit I jumped ahead to read how it would end first before committing to finishing it. And I am glad I did, because the author handles the subject matter with a realism and obvious knowledge of experience as well, not how I often see it in fanfic. There are a lot of emotional ups and downs but it’s nice seeing Dean in his momma-hen/mode, and Sam is so so good in this one! I think I enjoyed Sam’s characterization here most of all! And the author has a really cool/well developed angel/wing lore that hit my wing-kink pretty hard. I do think it could have all been edited down a bit - I found myself skimming parts, especially in the last third, just to get on with things. But it’s definitely a story you can disappear into for a good long time and I’ve bookmarked the author’s other works to read later, so again, I do rec it even with a few caveats.

A few shorter fics, too, just because I don’t want to forget about them...

Eleven Erogenous Zones of a Fallen Angel by almaasi (15k) Pure gratuitous wing!kink for me :) Cas uses the last of his grace to manifest his wings...but then is stuck with them in his human form and not even able to use them to fly as he used to. This presents a lot of awkward problems to deal with but also the excuse for Dean to help him keep them clean :) I did say wing kink, right? :D :D I loved how Cas seemed confused about the pleasure signals he got from bathing vs. sex vs. grooming and all of that. It’s sweet and hot and has my favorite kind of caretaking Dean in it.

Fossil Tracks by SegaBarrett (3k). Dean & Sam & Cas and dinosaurs. How can you go wrong with that? One of the SPN stories from the Id Pro Quo collection I really enjoyed reading (and didn’t write myself, lol).

#destiel recs #my fic recs #deancas recs #fandom that ate my life hello #destiel fic recs #my destiel recs

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duskyskz · 4 years ago

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- Erasure - 1

Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

With washed out, dyed pastel hair, sea salt and acrylic clinging to his jeans, Hwang Hyunjin expected to find himself many places that night. A jail holding cell. Under the abandoned train station bridge. Maybe even his own bedroom.

Your living room wasn't on the list.

Warnings - Some angst in later chapters, suggestive/smut, minor character death mentions, Hyunjin is an eboy and a little angsty, Changbin is doing his best as a big brother, slow burn (?)

A/N - Finally! Sorry for the delays, my head just hasn’t been with me this week;; I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am excited to write it.

***

The steady buzzing of your speakers fills the living room as you watched Changbin scroll through the Netflix home page. Both of you settle deep into the sofa, balancing a bowl of popcorn and chocolate between your knees.

“Endgame? Homecoming, Nightmare on Elm Street?” Binnie flicks through the suggestions, and you shake your head in distaste. “I'm not watching that octopus documentary again!”

“You only hated it because you cried at the end.”

“She died! He had to look after her little babies! Your heart is too cold, too far gone for that level of compassion.” The last part of your brother's grumbles are cut off when you throw a burnt kernel at his forehead, barely missing his ear.

There’s nobody else home. Nobody else ever comes home, either. It's been just you and Changbin for a while, and it's not all that terrible. He’s a few years older than you, having graduated last summer and now undertaking an apprenticeship at the village police station. It doesn't pay a stellar amount, but Changbin reassures you once he passes the trainee exams he’ll treat you to a new pair of winter boots and you can finally quit the ice cream parlour to focus on college. You tell him that even if he wins the lottery tomorrow, you'll work your own job. For all the support your elder brother gives you, you like having your own thing. It makes you feel a little more involved, a little more even than jsit washing the dishes and doing his laundry on days he’s too tired to move.

The Thursday evening is reserved for you both, to catch up on the hours together you miss during the week when Changbin doesn't get back till you're fast asleep and you don't have the chance to say good morning.

He’s been doing that a lot more recently.

Sighing into his coffee, shaking his head at nobody in particular. It's easy to notice the signs of stress and overwork in his face, sunken and tired even on the weekends when he finishes early.

“Do you wanna finish Teen Wolf?” The softness in his voice when he addresses you is the same, though. “We have three episodes left of this season, if you wanna binge.”

“Sure.” You want to ask him about the circles under his eyes. What’s got him coming home later and later because nothing ever happens in this town. “I'm still waiting on Derek’s redemption arc.”

You're twenty minutes into the episode when a vibration from your coffee table catches your attention. You glance at Changbin, but he ignores his ringtone, flipping it to silent.

It rings again, no music, but harsh vibrations drumming against the polished wood.

And again.

Knowing he’s not picking up to make a point of it, you pause the show, nodding at the mobile he’s avoiding glancing at. “Go on. Pick up, it might be an emergency.”

“If it's an emergency they don't need an intern there.” Despite his words, Changbin shifts his position and you know he’s growing hesitant.

“If it's an emergency all the more reason for you to be there and learn.” You state with more force behind your tone. “Why have your grades been dropping? You're coming home so late but your exams keep getting delayed -”

“My grades are fine!” Changbin never snaps at you, but the frustration in his voice is evident. “I'm fine. There's just - Just one case we're working on and I'm nearly there, I just need time.”

You shut your mouth, letting him speak.

“There’s this kid who keeps tagging the beach houses on Dawning Lane, and that shit was expensive to put up last year. Some stupid, bored child that thinks a few cans of spraypaint and lung cancer are a good excuse for your adolescence. He’s not even that good… Just scribbles.”

His lips pout in a frustrated whine at the last phrase, and you know he’s more frustrated at the situation than he is at you or himself.

A beat of silence, interrupted by another ringtone - you almost reach for it yourself to check the caller ID and force him to pick up, before Changbin’s arm shoots out past you to snatch the device, slinking out the door and into the hallway.

You aren't surprised when a few moments later, your brother’s head pokes nervously out the door frame - He's already got his coat on, waving his phone at you as an awkward goodbye.

“I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You salute back, smiling to ease the tension in his shoulders, and it works a minimum. You won’t see him till the late evening at best.

The door clicks shut as soon as he turns around, leaving you surrounded by popcorn and empty space. You really aren't surprised - but it'd be pointless to deny you weren't hurt by another night alone with Teen Wolf playing idly through your TV speakers. Cold popcorn only did so much to soothe your heart, and the distance wedging itself recently between your sibling bond was hard to brush over, between missed calls and texts too often left unanswered.

You just really miss your big brother.

You commit yourself to Stiles Stilinsky instead, sighing into the blanket around your shoulders. Autumn rolls in quick by the seaside, making your calves prickle with goosebumps. It's nearing 11pm, you realise, picking up the -

Thump!

Your fingers freeze, hovering over the TV remote. Changbin wouldn’t be back yet, he never comes home the same night he leaves.

“Bin?” You try it anyway, calling tentatively into the hallway. It’s still entirely black, void of disruption.

Clang!

That definitely came from your kitchen.

Armed with a half empty popcorn bowl and nerves of steel, you tiptoe into the other room. There’s a lump of something or someone crouched behind the dining table, and your grip around the glass dish tightens marginally despite the quivering of your knees, fumbling for the lightswitch without taking your eyes off the rising dark mass as it straightens its back.

“S-Stay down! I have corn and I know how to use it!” You don’t have a fully formed plan yet, but you’re sure the sharp kernels will be of some importance. Fluorescent white light floods the kitchen, momentarily blinding both you and the intruder who now stands at full height. A steady 12 inches above you.

“Ouch! Calm down, I’m not going to rob you!” He says, sounding almost exasperated at your defense of your own property. He still has his hands raised in defense, keeping the table between himself and you, and you’re grateful he hasn’t tried to knock your legs out from under you, yet. “I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“What are you here for, then?” You lower the popcorn bowl, but don’t let it fall out of your grasp. He doesn’t seem dangerous - He doesn’t seem like he could manage clambering through the window you always leave ajar either, but here he clearly is. There’s something sticky and pink in his blonde hair, stains following down his shoulder blades all the way down the cuffs of his jeans. If anything, he looks...a little lost.

“It’s the address on the post-it note.” Your confusion must have been plainly obvious, because the boy elaborates, pulling a crumpled neon-green paper from his jacket. “The post-it note that man gave me. That’s what Changbin gave me.”

Perhaps you lack self preservation instincts, but there’s an uncertain vibration in his voice that makes you give up your weapon and attitude.

“You know my brother?”

“He told me if I really need to go somewhere, I can come here.” You watch slim fingers tug at the sleeves of his jacket as he measures with a weight akin to a glare. “He didn’t tell me it was his house, or that somebody else was living here.”

Bold of him to accuse you of ruining his night plans.

It really did only click in your head when you looked closer at his tangled hair, dried paint clumping it together at the ends of bleached blonde strands. The artistic menace haunting your sea-side town was standing right on your tiled kitchen floor, and he looked downright miserable.

And Changbin had invited him.

Biting down the discomfort at realising how little Changbin had been telling you recently, you set the popcorn down on the table, you take in the threat currently three feet before you. A tall, lanky boy, with odd shoelaces and a sharpie sticking out of his trouser pocket. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while, and probably brushed either - it’d be generous to say he ran more than a stressed hand through it anytime recently. Though chapped, his full lips and wide eyes made him look far too innocent for his own good, and you blamed your soft heart for finding the boy kinda cute.

He did have a leaf stuck above his ear, though.

You almost reached up to remove it.

“Do you wanna watch Teen Wolf?” You break the quiet that settled, already shuffling your feet out into the living room. You sincerely hoped he’d follow. You weren’t sure what you could do apart from leaving him standing on cold tile, and he already looked freezing from the night chill.

Luckily for you, with a hesitant step, your impromptu companion takes after you to the couch where your Netflix and remove still await instruction. Changbin might grumble at you tomorrow at finishing the season without him, but you needed something to lure the boy into comfort.

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You mention. The boy sits stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap with parted lips, avoiding the decorative pillows.

“Hyunjin.” Now that he’s actually inside your house, Hyunjin’s confidence seems to have evaporated. The thrill of the break-in, if you can even call is that, has worn off, giving way to the nerves. He’s suddenly too conscious of the paint on his clothes, of sandy shoes still on his feet, of the smudges still on his cheeks. Should he take his jacket off? Or wipe his shoes?

You press resume, watching him relax after a few minutes as his brain finally has something else to focus on to let his worries ease. Hyunjin doesn't seem to mind you already being halfway through the episode, and you let yourself admit it’s nice having someone around this late at night.

“How do you know Changbin?” You ask while the topic is still fresh.

“I don’t.” Hyunjin bumps his knees together, fiddling with a loose string on his jeans as he shrugs. “I don’t really know him, he just...saw me around a few times, and I guess he figured I could use a place to crash. So he gave me your address.”

“You’re the mystery kid painting the beach houses, right? On Dawning Lane.”

At the accusation, Hyunjin’s lips part, flipping to face you with wide, blinking eyes., knowing he’s in no place to try and deny it. You blink back, observing his reactions, in case he suddenly changes his mind about staying. “Are you gonna turn me in?...”

“No.” You shake your head after a moment of thought, and he visibly untenses. “For whatever reason Changbin didn’t, so I won’t either. If he trusts you then I do too.”

You’ll never know if it was the murmurs of the TV, or if Hyunjin did whisper a thank you, and you won’t ask. There’s a lot of things you do want to ask, but a tug in your heart tells you now is not the time. Hyunjin looks exhausted, eyes drooping with every slow blink as he does his best to focus on the screen, hands previously tugging at his jeans now still and flat on his lap, slouched forward as if any moment he’ll drift off sitting on your pillows. Flurries of fluorescent light flicker on his cheeks, over barely scrubbed paint smudges and faint cuts from running too fast, you guess. In the delicate, dimmed light of your floor lamp, it’s hard to imagine Hyunjin as a bad kid. Prickly, maybe. On edge is a better word for it, tension clinging to his shoulders like stubborn dust bunnies. Curse your naive little heart, you tell yourself, building up your courage to speak.

“Hyunjin?” He hums in response, straightening his back. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

All you’ve been taught in life sent alarm bells through your skull when you asked a complete stranger (who just two hours ago, broke in through your kitchen window) to sleep in your living room overnight, but Hyunjin didn’t feel like a stranger. Changbin trusted him enough to lead him right to your house, so that must count for something, right? And no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up around the boy, watching him struggle to stay upright instead of letting his tall, lanky body fall backward and rest comfortably only made you worry a little about him, not the other way around.

Well, he did say he’s not going to rob you.

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, I’ll bring you some blankets.” You prompt him again when he doesn’t respond. “Changbin won’t be back for a while still.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” There’s a lilt of doubt in his voice, but he sincerely hopes you’re serious. This couch is warmer than anything he’s slept on in months and he really doesn’t want to crawl outside again with the rain pattering against your roof.

“Sure, you haven’t tried to stab me yet.” You shrug, getting up to fetch a duvet and looking him over.

“Ah, you probably want to wash your hair from all...that,” Hyunjin’s hand flies to his hair, patting out the tangles as if it’s the first time he’s noticed them. “You can use the bathroom upstairs, there’s towels by the shower already.”

He nods, following your directions with a ‘thank you’. Once his footsteps disappear up the landing, you set about pulling out the couch into a flatbed, rearranging the pillows at its base. Lugging the duvet down from Changbin’s room had been a feat, but you’re determined to make the space welcoming. Satisfied with the cushioned bundle you created, you run back upstairs.

You invade your brother’s room for the second time that day, tugging open his drawers in search for something acceptably pijama-like.

“Hyunjin?” You knock tentatively on the bathroom door as the shower head turns off and the shuffling ceases. “I’m leaving some clothes for you to change into outside, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

You scroll through your timeline as you wait, catching up on the last few hours’ events from your friends until a shuffling to your left prompts you to raise your head.

Your brother’s sweats hang a little loosely around Hyunjin’s hips, ending just above his ankles, bare feet sliding over the wooden floor of your living room, sinking into the rug as he steps closer to where you sit. His own clothing cradled in his arms close to his chest, you can’t stop your thoughts drifting momentarily to the damp mess of sunshine coloured hair. With his jacket on earlier, it was hard to make out his build under layers of fabric, but now it’s proving a challenge to not focus on the lines of his arms or the curves of his large hands gripping his clothes. Luckily for your dignity, your nerves of steel allow you to drag your gaze away from the collarbones peeking out from under thin white cotton higher to meet his eyes instead and find your voice again.

“I brought down some pillows for you, these are a bit too hard to sleep on.” You note, pointing to the decorative cushions you moved onto the lounge chair. “My room is right opposite the bathroom if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.”

“M’okay.” Hyunjin towers above you, yet you’ve never seen a boy so dainty. There really is no other way to describe the delicate line of his nose bridge or the rosy tint of his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them as he mulls over your words, settling down on the makeshift bed.

The proximity now feels different than the air between you when Teen Wolf still blared through your speakers, warm quiet heavy on your tongue with dim golden glow tumbling over his cheekbones that’s too much for your heart to take unprepared.

“Goodnight then!” You bounce up from the couch waving Hyunjin a quick goodbye, but a soft hand wrapping around your wrist pauses you.

“Wait,” Hyunjin brushes his thumb over your palm softly, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on your skin at the contact. “Thanks for not kicking me out...or calling the police. Y’know, as most people would for a break in.”

The smile he flashes you is almost teasing, but you can tell he means the words sincerely. You lay your other hand on top of his, patting in what you hope is a reassuring motion.

“Sure, Jinnie. It’s okay.”

#skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #hyunjin erasure #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #changbin fluff

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 5 years ago

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Hurt S/o! | Shikamaru + Kiba + Shino | ANGST + Fluff | HC’s

Request: This is my first request so please forgive and correct me if I do something wrong. I was wondering if you could maybe do an angsty headcanons for Shikimaru, Kiba, and Shino from Naruto’s reaction to their S/O getting seriously injured protecting them. If the S/O recovers or dies and the enemy is all up to you, I’ve just noticed a real lack in content for them and I’m craving it hard. Please and thank you!

Word Count: 1953 words

Page Count: 5.5 pages

A/N: i got so caught up in writing this it became way too long lmao. im sorry i forgot about naruto :( but i hope you do enjoy the rest! i made sure to end everything well. i have a shit ton of angst requests so i thought id leave this on a happier note :)

Tags: @bipolartryingtosurvive

Shikamaru Nara

- I could see this being during the Hidan fight.

- Hes set the plan in motion at that point.

- And you’re to make sure Hidan is distracted for the time being .

- Hidan may be an ass, but he isn’t dumb.

- He notices how you are keeping him from Shikamaru.

- Fucking LIVID

- You notice how hes shifting your fight closer to Shikamaru until he gets to the point where he definitely can get a deep slash into the Nara.

- You knew he was trying to get to him.

- You were fast, one of the fastest in the village, but that was because you were fairly weak when it came to strength.

- You tried to zip around, gaining speed and momentum, and within seconds- right when Hidan was going to bring his scythe down on Shikamarus neck, you slammed your body to his side.

- Shikamaru flew away as Hidan managed to get a large and deep slash into your body; you felt it start from under the right side of your ribs, curving across your stomach, and finally finished above your left knee.

- You didn’t feel it until you fell to the ground- shock really is a bitch.

- And then you felt the dull sting grow and blood dripped from the wound.

- The stinging grew into a pulsing and unbearable ache, and you knew for a fact he cut through each muscle in the way of his scythe, but your organs were nipped ( at best ) in the process.

- You couldn’t hear what was going on.

- You heard your heart beat in your ears, it was deafening, but you focused on your breathing and trying to keep calm.

- You trained for this- having a close friend beat your ass near death so you could focus on remaining in a state where you could prolong the inevitable.

- Yeah you thought of the most wild scenarios, and managed to prepare for them- turns out it worked out well.

- Once Hidan is buried Shikamaru went straight to you, managing to help out with Ino and Choji, stopping some of the bleeding while getting you to the village.

- You’re passed out at that point, so Ino cauterizes the wounds ends, the part under your ribs and the entire thigh.

- Shikamaru starts freaking at this point, he almost passes out, and Choji has to get his ass back together.

- Once you get back to the village Tsunade is ready to go, with Sakura by her side your ass isn’t ending up on that stone.

- It takes about four hours to get you all settled, and into a private room, out of critical.

- He’d stay by your bedside, your hand in his till you woke up.

- “Shika…?”

- “Oh my gods, [ Y/n ]!”

- “Hi”

- Your soft giggles helped ease this poor boys heart.

- “You look awful.”

- “Don’t look too hot yourself.”

- “Wow. Okay.”

- “Get up here, you need some sleep. And don’t even deny it.”

- He took off the bulky clothes, only in his pants and tank top, climbing in next to you as you settled your head on his chest.

- “Thank you for taking care of me,”

- “Thank you for not dying.”

Kiba Inuzuka

- Being in Anbu had its ups and downs.

- But mostly downs.

- Okay. Only downs.

- But you managed to find your light, in a childhood friend and now lover.

- Though- he managed to act more like a puppy than a boyfriend at times.

- You didn’t mind though, and you lived your life peacefully after having to leave Anbu due to an injury that limited your eyesight greatly and it hindered all sight starting at arms length.

- Though, when in Anbu, its always- ALWAYS expected to have an old rival or two come back for more, even when one is retired.

- And here you were, walking through the forest with Kiba and Akamaru, talking about his past mission with Hinata and Shino.

- He got so excited to tell you that he didn’t notice the shift in scents in the air, and you couldn’t see ahead or through your peripheral.

- It happened so fast.

- Too fast.

- One second you were smiling with his arms around your waist, his chin on your head as you both laughed with Akamaru yipping.

- The next you were slipping from his arms, and blood was pooled at his arms, the slash at your neck was gruesome.

- Your hands went to your neck as Kiba yelled, Akamaru going after the person who came from the shadows.

- “No. No. No. No. No. No. [ Y/n ], NO!” He was panicking, picking you up quickly as a hand wrapped around your throat, gripping it so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe.

- Almost.

- You learned to stay calm in situations like this, and with Kiba’s harsh grip you didn’t have to waste any energy to help with the bleeding, so you focused on breathing and not getting your heart to pump too fast.

- “Tsunade! Fuck- get a medical nin! Now!”

- He yelled, running into the village again, where many were coming to help you out.

- Akamaru had come back by then, his mouth bloodied as well, but nothing else- indicating he got a good bite on the fucker.

- You made it to the hospital before you lost consciousness, making Kiba worry even more, because THAT was never a good sign.

- He had to be the one to lay you down on the table and his grip never wavered, getting into a sterile room and waiting for some instruction.

- He was freaking out inside, he wanted to cry and let go, just hold you- but you would die if any of that were to happen.

- He had to stay calm for you.

- He wasn’t going to let you die.

- The tell him to let go quickly and all hands go to your neck, working quickly to stop the bleeding, while a nurse came to get Kiba cleaned up and situated.

- His mom even came to help the boy, who looked dead while staring at your room, not even wanting to go in.

- “Boy."

- Oh did she go off, telling him to go to his girlfriend and be a man.

- He did want to go, but he couldn’t help but feel so… helpless.

- "Helpless? Helpless! Boy, you do understand you just saved your girls life? That if you weren’t there she’d be laying there dead?”

- Kinda rocked his shit, but thanks mom.

- He went into your room alone first, your neck was bandaged and you looked pale, with blood and other IV fluids being attached to your arms.

- He noticed the especially dark bruise on your neck.

- It could have been either from his hand or the surgery, but he still felt bad.

- His mom came in and sat with him on the other side of you.

- They both held your hands and visited you till you woke up.

- “I lived bitch.”

Shino Aburame

- I honestly can’t see his S/o getting hurt so bad.

- Because when you think about it his bug control is OP AF.

- Like he can essentially control you with a bug.

- I would go with someone would be after him, but since they can’t get to Shino- you would be the best option.

- Get hurt him physically so lets do it mentally and emotionally :)

- Poor boy

- I could see this being when your both adults, and teaching the younger generations, including your kids :)

- And you’re chilling on your house rooftop, that you’ve decorated with couches and tables and such, even hanging lights around.

- You had Shino build a retractable sliding glass on top in case it rains.

- If you’re having trouble imagining this- think Fast and Furious ending where everyone is eating dinner together.

- Yeah that’s ya’ll with the rest of the group :)

- You’re relaxing, reading a book and curled into the couch and drinking some tea or coffee or hot cocoa ( THEY’RE ALL VALID )

- You had gotten up a second to go to the large chest you had near one of the tables, to pick out a fluffy blanket.

- You never noticed how someone had mixed a poison into your drink, because they were gone before you could even decide on a blanket.

- Your kids would have been home soon, and they knew you liked to hang out up here, especially Shino since he kept the bees up here.

- You settled down and read some more, before taking sips of your drink.

- You noticed it tasted weird, and you had gotten up to check it out you felt your head get light, and your throat was stinging- making you cough horribly.

- You honestly felt like death was coming for you, and you knew something was wrong, but by the time you had gotten to the door you fell down and struggled to breathe.

- “Hey mom, Aponi kicked me-”

- “Shut up! Adonis don’t be- Mom!”

- “Mom?!”

- Your kids started freaking out, with your little girl noticing how strange you looked and saw the cup that was broken at your side.

- “Addy! Get dad! Mom drank something!”

- “Alright! Stay there- I’ll be back!”

- They managed to get their dad and Uncle Kiba, with Aponi looking to the cup- having some of her bugs recognize what was in it.

- “Dad! Its Saifu Ants! Someone poisoned mom with Saifu ants!”

- Shino had gotten some for himself and used their toxins to create an antidote.

- You were currently at the hospital, and declining rapidly, stressing out everyone around you.

- Even Naruto came and the dude is Hokage and is busy as hell.

- “You should all be prepared for the worst.”

- Everyone’s hearts dropped, and Shino couldn’t be there- he was helping making the antidote.

- It took about 20 more minutes until Shino came rushing in with it.

- Everyone made their way to your room and god.

- You were so pale, you honestly looked dead. Your kids only knew you were alive due to the heart monitor and your weak chalkra signature, your breathing was supported by a machine and even then your lungs sounded horrible.

- God Shino worked as hard as he could so fast.

- He felt like his heart stopped, that everything was moving too fast for him and he was going to pass out.

- Thank god his eyes were covered cause he had tears in them the entire time.

- He felt his soul ripping apart, what would he do if you left him so soon? The kids?

- You had gotten the antidote in time- but not before the poison had it’s time with you.

- Your lungs were destroyed and your heart was weak, your muscle was torn down.

- But you made it back to them.

- Everyone held a sigh of relief.

- You were a little off at first- still sleepy and slurring.

- After a few month you were able to leave- with everyone visiting you in the meantime with what had been going on in the village.

- Once you made it home you collapsed on your bed with Shino, easing his heart just a bit.

- Your kids jumped in too, snuggling up to both of you, with Aponi on your chest and Adonis on your stomach.

- “You scared us. Please, don’t do that again.”

- “It’s okay. I told you. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

- “Like I’d want to.”

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Note

could i request a brief connor-angst drabble? the happy-ending AU with B and Demetri Connor, please

CW: Referenced conditioning and torture including dubcon/noncon situations in the past, angsty fucky dubcon thoughts now, referenced past biphobia/homophobia with religious overtones/parental emotional abuse

Demetri and B belong to @slaintetowhump and @moose-teeth

Mostly, he’s cool with it. He understood that they had bonded to each other in a way deeper than Connor could ever have hoped to bond with anyone, right from the start. They shared hell together - shared being held by men bent on destroying whatever of themselves they tried to hold onto, shared those mens’ bed, shared their tricks and games and torture techniques. They shared scars, witnessed times scars were made and times they were treated. They had built something shared, in secret, in the dark.

Connor’s just the asshole who was a part of the whole fucking machine of it, who helped hold up the structure and sure as fuck did his part to destroy them and others like them, who decided one day to stop.

That’s all he is.

He’s not better, he’s not good.

He’s just another motherfucker who had it turned on him and couldn’t handle it anymore. He’s just some dick trying to turn it around, too little too late. You don’t get redemption, for the kind of shit Connor Manning has done. All you can do is try to get away, make sure that you don’t fuck up anyone else any worse than you already have.

He couldn’t - and would never - ask for B’s forgiveness.

All he could do was give B - and then Demetri - a home in which they could rebuild whatever they still had left inside them. Connor Manning, a big damn hero all right, scooping up ruined pets to try and fix his own mistakes.

Good fucking job, numbnuts, you destroyed a hundred lives but you can kind of maybe make two lives better, aren’t you just the pinnacle of goddamn human achievement.

Jesus, I hope they do leave you, it’s what you deserve. It’s all you deserve. Should’ve just told Ferrick to fuck you death, he’d probably enjoy the goddamn challenge.

Connor kicked the barn wall with his boot, watching the momentum travel through the wood. Nearby, one of the fuzzier barn cats, a big fluffy gray with white front paws B had named River Rock, lay along a stall divider, tail swishing idly back and forth, watching him.

He doesn’t even know what set him off, exactly. He’d woken up thinking about it, and then there’d been something... maybe the other two doing the dishes after breakfast, some flirtation between them, the way they worked so easily and perfectly together...

He’s not stupid, or not all the time, anyway. He gets it, he does. He gets that he’s just the way they get to be together, the setting for their happy ending, part of the furniture.

He’d already been on edge and then they were just so perfect together, fit together like puzzle pieces, the large muscular ex-Guard Dog and the smaller lithe half-trained sort-of Romantic (what the fuck was that asshole mob boss trying to do, anyway) laughing together and Connor had sent them on an errand out where his land butted up to Anne’s pastures just to... just to buy himself time to lurk in here with the barn cats and hate himself.

Hating himself comes as easily now as it did when he was sixteen, and isn’t that a fucking laugh riot. Samuel Watson, Jr., went off to the big city - changed his name - comes back home and slides right back in to the same way he felt when he was just... Sammy.

Maybe he should call his mother in Florida and ask her to tell him all the ways he’s going to hell, add that on. It’s not like he’d even notice the extra weight, anymore.

Mom, you’ve got no fucking clue what I’ve actually done to deserve hell, but why don’t you tell me about how it’s the parts inside me that damned me, and I can tell you about how my actions were so much worse than my identity could ever be.

“Connor?” Demetri’s voice is soft, and Connor tenses in surprise, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I thought I told you to go work out near the fields,” He says, his voice caught, eyes burning hot. He can’t turn around - Demetri’s too good at seeing tears even when Connor hides them.

“I, I know you did, but... I was talking to B, and we thought-... you seemed sad. So we came back.” The voice gets closer, the scrape of Demetri’s boots on the barn’s dirt floor, pushing aside the hay they put down to help the cats keep warm in the winter.

“Why?” Connor lays a hand on a bit of heavy, rusted metal. He’s not even sure what purpose it served, it’s laid here along the wall since his grandfather owned this farm. Maybe they built the fucking barn around it. “Why did you come back? Why do you ever?”

There’s a pause, a silence, and then Demetri’s boots scrape along the floor again, coming closer and closer. Connor holds himself perfectly still, refuses to look at the blond. He doesn’t tremble when he feels a long-fingered hand along his back. “Connor? What do you... what do you mean?”

Connor’s eyes close, tears building there, threatening to spill. “I have twenty-five grand in a savings account,” He says, trying to get the words out fast enough that he can’t stop himself.

Don’t leave me.

“And I can sign the truck over. I’ve got papers for you both, fake IDs, Social Security numbers, the works. It’s in my safety deposit box. I’ll give you money, and everything you need - you can stay in my old apartment if you want, I just-... I have everything you need to leave.”

“Why... why would we want to?”

Connor hadn’t even heard B. His boots didn’t make the same scraping sounds that Demetri’s did. B was trained to move silently, had had it even more strongly reinforced in him that he should be seen and not heard. When his voice asked the question, rumbling and deep, Connor caught his breath at how close B was, just on his other side.

“Why-... why wouldn’t... why wouldn’t you?” To his shame, Connor has to sniff back the tears, then, and the sound is as loud as a shout in the silent barn. His voice is trembling, struggling to get the words out.

He’s sniffling like a fucking kid when he doesn’t have the fucking right.

B is the first one to slide arms around him, nuzzling into he side of his head, into Connor’s thick dark hair. Demetri’s arms move around his waist, and there’s one on either side of him, the same way they often end up at night, but this isn’t sex and this isn’t sleeping, this is... something else.

“Love you,” B rumbles, just against his ear. “Stay with you, Connor.”

“Well, you shouldn’t, and y-you shouldn’t want to. I’m the piece of shit who did all of this to you.”

Demetri, after months here, showed a sharp-witted humor in flashes, the buried man under all the drugs and training digging his way slowly out. And now, he rested his cheek on Connor’s shoulder and said, gently, “Maybe we like the piece of shit who did this to us. Or we like you, anyway, which isn’t the same thing at all.”

“Yes, it is, I’m exactly the same as I was.”

“Not the same... you’re not.” B again, and he felt like they were winds blowing him around and shielding him from the wind, at the same time. They were both. “Not the same. None of us are.”

“I just-... I just wanted to do one good thing.” Connor groans, ashamed of himself for the admission. “I don’t think... I thought, maybe I could do one good thing, and if it’s the only good thing I could do, at least it’s... something. When you’re ready, I have everything you need to go.”

“We’re not, though.” Demetri kisses his cheek, at the same moment B nuzzles back into his neck, and Connor leans back into the affection he can’t possibly earn, will never deserve.

“Not going anywhere.” B’s teeth just graze his neck, and Connor catches his breath at the soft little sting.

“You can’t make us,” Demetri teases, an easy flirtation that seems less trained and more genuine and sincere, or maybe Connor just can’t tell the difference when he’s like this.

“Love you,” B murmurs into his neck. “We love you, Connor.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Demetri snorts, and there are fingers lightly pressing on his jaw, until Connor opens his eyes to find his face has been turned to look right at the blond, who gives him a slight, wry smile and the softest kiss. “Connor. Don’t you think B and I get to decide that, now? We decided we love you. Just try and stop us.”

“Demetri-” Connor’s eyes drop, only just now realizing Demetri isn’t wearing a collar today.

Demetri blinks, then his smile widens when he sees Connor’s gaze move to his neck and he tilts his chin up slightly, showing off the bare expanse of neck. “All day,” he says, almost shyly. “Since our shower. We want to be here.”

B’s fingers, then, taking his chin to turn it back the other way, and B’s kiss is harder, rougher, lasts longer, but Connor melts into it. “We want to be here,” He says, in his deep voice, the intensity of his gaze focused entirely on Connor’s face. “Both of us. With you. Love you.”

Demetri’s mouth is on his neck while B kisses him again.

“We love you, Connor.” Demetri’s lips move against his skin. “Life doesn’t give you... doesn’t only give what you deserve.”

If they tore him apart right here in the barn he’d have understood it was only what he'd earned, payment in turn for all the evil things he’s done.

Instead of what he deserves, they give him this.

Over and over again.

We love you.

#emotional whump #villain redemption #connor manning just wants to be friends #whump #trauma recovery whump #box boy #box boy multiverse #box boy universe #moose-teeth #slainteowhump #angst #connor hates himself SO MUCH #I'm not sure I make that clear enough #SO MUCH

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z3ld4 · 4 years ago

Text

Mercy Me - Part One

Summary: Jacqueline Laymore can’t really tell when it started to hurt to call Spencer her friend. But that didn’t really matter after she got kidnapped. Right now all that matters is getting home and getting Spencer Reid.

Warnings: Angsty? Mentions of self harm, suicidal ideation, death, kidnapping, is catholic guilt a warning? culty vibes, mentions of torture, and a very small mention of rape and gouging one’s eyes out.

Word Count: 1.3k (its a babey for the first part)

A/N: this is one of my first fanfictions on tumblr and in this fandom, so idk be nice or like really mean, criticize me, i don’t really mind. i used to write aphmau fanfiction nothing really hurts at this point. also this is an original female character fic because i for real can not write fic in the y/n format and i’ve had this idea for a while. it took a lot of effort to post this without puking in anxiety first but i hope it goes well ig.

If Jacqueline was going to die right then and there, she would have frankly been pissed. Sitting in the bathtub with blood seeping out of shallow cuts on her thighs would not be a great way to go. It’s especially stupid because they weren’t even new. Jacqueline knew better than to cut in the tub.

Especially since she’d been clean before the incident.

She wondered if that was the time to back up and take a second to think. Think about her wrongdoings.

Of course, Gabriel doesn’t give her the release of death and instead shot himself in the neck. Her eyes, always the worst part of her body, follow the arterial spray as it stains the yellowing ceilings. She almost wants to take the revolver and shoot herself in the head, but that would contaminate the crime scene.

Jacqueline is smarter than that. But the revolver is so close to her. Yet just out of reach.

Everything seems to be just out of reach when you’re kidnapped.

But everything is moot compared to the digging feeling in her stomach telling her that the gun still has five more rounds.

She doesn’t. Of course, there is more to her life than being a martyr for another’s sins. That isn’t what Father Julien said when she was younger, but Father Julian also tried to gouge out her eyes in the town square.

Father Julian did a lot of things, talking about the grace of God wasn’t one of them. But what can you really expect from a man that creates a psychopath? Jacqueline dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, creating swirling patterns behind her eyelids. Phosphenes. She can hear him say it. Spencer always made sure to tell her the weirdest facts he could remember. She can’t remember most of them but sometimes his voice pops up in her head reminding her of them.

A lot of things pop up in Jacqueline’s head these days. She smoothed her hair back with the water on her hands and stepped awkwardly out of the tub. Taking two towels from the rack on the wall, she wrapped up her hair and body. Carefully stepping around Gabriel’s body and blood pool she enters the bedroom. For a cheap motel, it was quite clean. Frankly, it wouldn’t be half bad if the carpet wasn’t a brown color and she didn’t come with the guy who kidnapped her. She dug through Gabriel’s luggage until she found yet another, white cotton sundress. It wasn’t a bad dress, quite pretty in reality. It was the situation that made it the ugliest rag Jacqueline had ever seen. It fell to just below her knees and the bodice fit her waist perfectly, the spaghetti straps dug into her shoulders but it could have been much, much worse.

Jacqueline would have liked the dress in another life. However, Gabriel had a thing for the whole ‘white equals purity’ thing and tortured her in a dress similar to the one she was putting on.

She stopped putting the dress on. Blinking through the tears forming in her line of sight, Jacqueline searches for a shirt and a pair of pants that could maybe fit her. She found Gabriel’s taupe button-up and slipped it over her shoulders, buttoning the front up to the third button. After digging a little more she finds a pair of army green pants, a little too high waisted for such a masculine man but she puts them on. Luckily Gabriel also had a pair of hiking boots which Jacqueline took the shoelace out of and used it as a belt.

The sandals that she wore when out with Gabriel would have to do, though it looked a little silly. Jacqueline took her hair out of the towel and ruffled it up a little, she always hated leaving her thick, wavy hair without product in it but it’s better than brushing it. The bangs brushing against the bridge of her nose are going to make her cry though. She used to hate how she looked in bangs but now, with Gabriel’s praises ringing in her ears, she almost likes the way they frame her face.

Almost.

Jacqueline grabbed Gabriel’s wallet on the way out of their hotel room.

The secretary looked at Jacqueline funny as she checked out. Granted, it was well deserved, Jacqueline looked like a mess of men’s clothing. She also was leaving without Gabriel, which sounded a little unheard of considering he didn’t even let her speak when they checked in.

Jacqueline wanted to call the police so the maid didn’t get a nasty surprise. She didn’t have a phone on her but she walked to the payphone on the street corner and quickly called 911.

“Hi, Hello. Y-yes… I… I need to report a suicide at Maple Leaf Motel, room 3C. My… My p-partner shot himself in the neck!” She wailed into the phone before hanging up. She was always good at faking things. Right now, faking composure seems to be the only thing keeping her sane.

Time to catch a flight to Quantico, Virginia.

Or, more likely, hitchhike. If there was anything Jacqueline had learned in her nine years with the BAU is to not hitchhike. But she had about two hundred and fifty dollars and the clothes on her back. And if anything she could pay for some gas and maybe use the self-defense that Morgan taught her. She knew that from where she was it would be around twenty days by foot. A twenty-hour car ride. And maybe a five-hour flight depending on the airport. The closest 'big' town near Maple Leaf was Lexington.

And deep down, Jacqueline really wanted to take a road trip. Nebraska is quite a pretty state. Though walking would be a little excessive considering she's technically been off for two months already.

The fact that she’d been with Gabriel for two months sent shivers down Jacqueline’s spine. The bureau wouldn't take her vacation days away for being kidnapped but you never really know with the government, do you? She started walking to the library when she realized that she could email Strauss and talk about her job and how fast she can be reinstated. Luckily the library was a few blocks down the street.

"Hello, dear! What can I help you with today?" The elderly woman behind the help desk smiled. Jacqueline figured that they didn't get that many people inside the small library.

Jacqueline forced a smile and walked up to the desk, "Can I use one of the computers? I need to email my boss about my... vacation."

The librarian gives Jacqueline a sugary sweet smile. "May I, Deary," The librarian corrected.

"Right," Jacqueline drawls. The librarian walked her to a clunky old computer and logged on before shoving Jacqueline down into the seat. Jacqueline goes through google to find her email service and quickly write one to Strauss. Strauss responded quickly, a short email reading:

Dear Agent Laymore,

You're thought to be dead. I can not grant you the ability to step into your building for recertification and discussions of reinstating you until you prove otherwise.

Erin Strauss

Jacqueline responded:

Dear Erin,

You're supposed to be nicer to people who are held as a hostage. Anyways, I guess a way to prove my identity would be that I can sing 'On My Own' from Les Mis perfectly, I know you have heard me do it. And that your husband divorced you after he gave you half of his liver due to your liver cirrhosis. You told me this one night when I was crying over my brother killing himself and getting disowned. I am the only person on the current team (I assume, though I'm sure Rossi knows ;D) who has that information on you.

With love,

Dr. Jacqueline Laymore PsyD

Ps. Please don't give my job away because I made a joke.

Erin responded with a very annoyed emailing detailing what they will discuss once Jacqueline reaches Quantico. With a valid ID of course.

Now the hard part, finding someone who wasn't a serial killer to hitchhike with. For at least twenty-four hours. In a car.

Spencer's voice called out in the back of Jacqueline's head, reminding her that there is a 0.0000086% of being killed or raped while hitchhiking.

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