#this is a fic written about supernatural ocs

[crabdab]

Chest aching I want my boys to be happy

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You

Warnings: Ok... this is gonna be a long one. Cursing, Lying, pain really... as far as the eye can see. Panic attacks. There is also another warning that I really wanna give but it'll also give a big part away.

Pairing: ? xReader (Another spoiler come on!)

Characters: All of the Stray Kids, OC Soo, Reader

A/N: This is my first posted Stray Kids fic, so if you like it I'll be happy to make more! Feedback is always appreciated! And if you like Supernatural as well here's my masterlist!

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-Click Here

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Things started off small, a missed call here, and a late text there. Then, they started to get more sporadic… More suspicious. Most of all, it’s in his eyes. When he’d see the dinner made and packed in the fridge for him. The laundry and dishes done, you passed out on the couch, waiting for him to come home. You didn’t see it, but his face had guilt written all over it. 

You weren’t blind. You saw the lipstick on his collar, and the scent on his clothes. The times that you kept saying, “I know you’re busy” and pecking him on his lips, despite the perfume attacking your senses. 

You figured one of his sister idols hugged him, that’s how it transferred, yeah, that was a comfy thought. It even made complete sense since hugs were a must. 

It was your 3rd anniversary, you had everything planned. All that you asked of him was to show up at said place at said time. That’s quite literally it. You had been planning this for months, even going as far as talking his manager into giving him one weekend off… just one. You also asked him what you could do to make his life just slightly easier. 

Now here you are… alone… at said place at said time. Texting. Calling. No answer. 10 minutes turned into 20 minutes, 20 to 40, 40 to an hour and a half. You sit here on the verge of tears, calling the only person you could. 

“Hey Y/N why are you calling? Is everything okay?” Minho asked. 

“He never showed,” You started crying as you mindlessly picked the petals off of the roses on the table, staring at the card you had gotten him. 

“He’s your husband, what do you mean he didn’t show?!” He yelled. 

You heard in the background, “WHAT?!” there was no mistaking that voice, it was Changbin. 

Then you heard the phone being snatched. 

“Y/N where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

You gave him the address as you tried your best to breathe. You had taken a cab here and nothing is more awkward than breaking down in the back of an Uber. About 20 minutes later you heard Bin behind you. 

“Y/N?” He asked so gently like you’d break… But you already have.

You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Your best friend’s been lying to me?”... No. You elected to just say, “I don’t know where to go.” because it’s true. You had no clue where to go. 

Binnie smiled at you. A sad, empathetic, whisper of a smile as he said “Let’s start with home, yeah?” He asked. 

You nodded, grabbed the card off of the table, and off you went. 

You had asked the guys to give you guys alone time in the dorm, so everyone was scattered through the city. Bin just happened to be at the Danceracha house when you called. 

You had no clue, but before Bin had even gotten in his car to get you. He texted everyone to meet at the 3Racha house, but NOT to go in before Bin made it to the house with you. He could tell by the look on your face that something was very wrong, and you’d need all of the support you could get. 

When everyone was there, you unlocked the door and Bin was the first to go in. Immediately his jaw dropped as he hung his head. When you came in you heard it.

Moaning… loud moaning. You looked at the floor near the front door, seeing a pair of heels you didn’t recognize. You welcomed the boys in with a pointer finger to your lips. Everyone quietly came in as you toed off your heels, eventually sitting on the couch.

You as well as the boys heard everything… The “I love you” s, the “Feel so much better than her” and finally the nail in the coffin, “I can’t wait to leave her.”

Everyone’s jaws were on the floor at what he was saying and at your reaction to them. You just stared at the wedding photo hanging on the mantle. The thought of losing the boys paralyzing you with fear. 

He continued, “never wanted her…only you… always you,” then, “m’close Baby.” You couldn’t even look at the boys. It wasn’t embarrassing, after all, you aren’t the one cheating on your husband with someone while he’s waiting to celebrate your anniversary.

You couldn’t look because of the overwhelming sadness. It was numbing, aching, sadness.

Another thing you could say is that you should’ve seen it coming. Some of his most popular songs have lyrics about someone else catching his eye.

You can hear his moans getting louder, that's a sign that he’s close so you put the card down, get up, and walk down the hallway. You look at the door that used to mean serenity and happiness, now colored a nauseating dark and gloomy gray.

You open the door and walk in. You see them, your husband and your best friend, writhing around on the bed as they both reach their highs together. You couldn’t find it in you to cry. Not even a little. 

Finally, your husband rolled off of her, giggling and enjoying the high.

The only one who noticed you were there was your best friend, Soo, who has been your friend since you moved here 6 years ago, so you could be closer to the boys. When she saw you, her face turned ghost-white… 

You just put your wedding band on the dresser drawer.

“Fuck you’re so much better than her.” he breathed out… When she didn’t respond, he opened his eyes. The pure chocolate orbs scanned you and wished, just like you, that this was a nightmare.

“Y/N/N” he breathed, you could see the weight on his shoulders as he threw his head back onto the pillow, putting his hands to his face, knowing that he was caught.

“Soo… you have 3 minutes to get dressed and to get the FUCK out of MY HOUSE…” You gritted your teeth as you threw her clothing at her.

As soon as she left you turned your full attention to your husband.

You calmly started changing clothes, taking off the skin-tight black dress that you knew would do something to him (Well thought you knew, rather). You didn’t face him as you changed, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your body. Halfway through pulling down the dress you grabbed a big sweatshirt and put it on, so when the rest of the dress slid off, He’d never see a thing. You put on sweatpants afterward. 

In your mind, you already know. The last time he will ever see your body was 3 days ago. When you both took a shower together. 

During all of this, he was frozen. You see, when your relationship started you told him, you don’t tolerate cheaters. He knows that and that you are pissed, and rightfully so, but he is also terrified of losing you. As a matter of fact, at this point, that is the only thing he is thinking about. He can’t lose you.

After you changed you started with, “How long?”

“Y/N/N I..”

“HOW LONG?” You barked. Your voice taking a stern and powerful tone.

“Physically, 2 months. Emotionally, almost a year.” His face fell.

“Do you remember what today is?” 

“What?”

“Do you remember what today is?” you asked in a docile tone as you took off your earrings, ones he had gotten for your first anniversary. 

He checked his phone and cursed under his breath, “Baby I--”

That was when you lost it, “YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT! NOT AFTER YOU SAID IT OVER AND OVER TO HER WHILE YOU WERE FUCKING HER IN OUR BED! IN OUR HOME!”

You tried to stop it from boiling over, but you couldn’t help it when visceral sobs left your throat. You grabbed a duffel bag out of the corner of the room, trying to do your best not to completely collapse. 

“Y/N, what are you doing, talk to me.” He finally got up and put some sweats on. “I know you’re hurting.”

You yelled, “This is beyond hurt!…”, Then your voice cracked as your volume plummeted, sounding and looking so small as you continued, “You have no fucking idea what you just did.”

You started hyperventilating at the gravity of his shitty decisions and the effect it will have on your life. You needed to get away from him. You stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. You couldn’t even call out to Hannie, too close to passing out from hyperventilation. 

Hannie’s ears perked up, your raspy and rapid breathing meant that you were hyperventilating. The next second he’s running to you. 

“Hey hey hey Y/N/N. You need to breathe honey, come with me.” He immediately supported your body, halting all possibility of you diving face first into the floor if you do pass out. Then he essentially dragged you back to where you were sitting. 

You grabbed the card and held it to your chest as Han kneeled in between your legs. He was trying to get you to focus on your breathing and to focus on him, to ground yourself.

As much as you wanted to focus on Han, you couldn’t help but look at that damn photo on the mantle. You wanted that photo so badly to be true again.  You couldn’t help the sobs that came out of your mouth as you hugged the card to yourself. 

When your husband, Chan, finally made his way to the living room he saw everyone there and his face turned nearly colorless. Everyone stared at him except for Han and Bin, who were worried about you more than anything. 

“You don’t understand” and “he doesn’t understand” were all you could repeat as you wept. Rocking back and forth, because no one really could understand, the gravity of what he has been doing. 

Bin tried getting through to you by saying, “Help us understand Y/N/N.” You handed him the card as you continued sobbing, consumed by the sheer pain of what Chan’s done. 

Bin opened the card and his face went from confusion to rage-filled, his features reminding Han of hardened steel. Unwavering, strong, and in this case, pissed off. 

Bin tried to sound as calm as he could, for your sake, as he said, “Hannie, put together an overnight bag for Y/N, don’t forget anything. Innah, take her to my car… she needs to calm down if not we have to go to the hospital.”

As soon as he heard the car door slam, he went off.

“You know out of all of the people I could ever conceive doing this, you would be the last of them!”

“Bin” Chan tried to say something but Changbin cut him off.

“NO! YOU DON’T GET A SAY HERE, CHRIS! YOU FUCKED UP ROYALLY AND NOW YOU DESTROYED YOUR FAMILY!” Bin was visibly shaking with rage as he walked up to Chan. Tears were starting to form in his eyes.

LeeKnow looked visibly confused as he looked to Bin, “What are you talking about?”

Bin threw the content of the card at Chan’s feet. 

Chan looked at what the card had in it, it was unmistakable.

Bin sounded broken as he responded, “Y/N is pregnant.”.

_______________________________________________________

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[peachsukii]

𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚜; 𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 — 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛?

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

↬ welcome to the "what's your favorite scary movie?" collab!

『 navi // masterlist | pinterest board | playlist | ao3 collection 』

what's WYFSM about?

any and all things horror related! no matter how tame or gruesome, every flavor of horror (and sci-fi/super natural/thriller/psychological!) is welcomed. i'm a huge fan of the horror genre and love consuming the angst and survival of it all — that's it! :)

rules & themes

anyone is welcome to join! all content must contain horror elements of some kind. this could be a re-telling of a movie, game or book, or an original idea! (examples; One Piece in Scary Movie or Fairy Tail in Dead Space, etc.)

— need help finding an idea? check out the resources below!

⊹ fic requirements | written in x reader or OC format with no word limit ⊹ fandoms | any fandom is welcome! ⊹ ratings | sfw & nsfw are accepted as long as they tagged appropriately (you must be 18+ to participate & have your age visible in your profile!) ⊹ content | there's no limit to how many people can write for one character/trope/movie/etc. ⊹ deadlines | spots are open until 10/15/24 & entries due 10/31/24!

any other questions? feel free to message me or comment!

interested in joining?

⊹ how to enter | send me a message or an ask and the following info: — potential title (can just be tbd! as a placeholder), character, and tags & content. if you're using a source as a base storyline (movie/game/book), please include that as well! (example; knives in the back - based off of friday the 13th, nsfw angst/comfort/dark content with Jo Togame) ⊹ submissions | when your finished with your fic, send me an ask with the link to add to the masterlist! — be sure to tag your entry with the #WYFSMcollab tag and myself @peachsukii ! if you cross-post to a03, send that link as well so I can add your entry to the collection <3

resources

⊹ inspo prompts | [all] - [angst] - [apocalypse] - [post-apocalypse] - [end of the world] - [vampire] - [werewolf] - [supernatural] - [aliens] - [amnesia] ⊹ list of | [movies/games/books]

『 all work belongs to the respective collaborators. please do not steal, plagiarize, modify, or repost any of the content. Member of the @pixelcafe-network . ♡ 』

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 15

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2615

Warnings: Angst, suspense, emotional situations, The Tension is Growing, Premonitions.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

For a while, you just sat there, your emotions running completely rampant as your thoughts ran laps around your mind. They all knew something that you hadn’t been told. Whatever it was, it wasn’t in your parent's letters, and it was more than Dean had already told you, which you thought had been everything.

Even if you still weren’t convinced he was your soul mate, you had kept your distance from him, only keeping things to friendship. The thought of the whole soul mate thing made your mind snap back to how you’d ended up alone in this room and looked around for a mirror. Finding one hanging over the dresser, you walked over to it and moved your dress so you could see what had only been incoherent lines.

You felt a knot in your stomach as you looked at it. The only letter that had come in was the last one, an n. 

There are other names that end with the letter ‘n.’

You needed to write down every tidbit of information you had at the moment. Quickly scanning the room, you found a notepad and a pen on one of the nightstands. 

No mark at 16. Parents killed at 2. Wounded soul. Shunned by town. Winchesters showed up 3 months before my 25th birthday. Promotion at garage and became Dean’s boss. They joked about him not doing anything funny with me. Sam and Dean knew I didn’t get my mark. Have to fully heal to get my mark. Dean knew something when he met me, and so did the boys at the garage. I could talk to Dean, easily, honestly. He saw me at school. Lisa isn’t Dean’s soulmate. Bobby had us work together on Dean’s first day, and we became friends, quickly. Dean was always thinking of me. The adults knew about the marriage contract and never told me, and they knew my parents hid key documents. Bobby and John were thankful Dean and I hit it off so quickly and became friends.

The more you wrote out, the faster your heart began beating. Most of that had only happened within the first month of meeting the Winchesters. There was so much more that was there, and you needed to see how it all fit together, like the parts of a car. That was how your mind worked, slowly seeing the connections. You’d never wanted to hope to find your soulmate, even after what Dean had said.

My parents left me letters, telling me about the Vaughts.The Vaughts knew what would happen if I lost my parents. They knew about my lineage. They knew I would be an empath.

That last line made you stop and think further.

Wait. Why would that matter? What would be the purpose of making me marry Cole? Why is that important? What about an empath, don’t I know?

You pulled out your phone and began searching online for anything related to empaths and why they’d be important, other than in specific jobs that helped people. There were more things you probably should have written down, but with the questions plaguing your mind, you had to find answers.

Nearly an hour, perhaps longer, passed, and you were still attempting to find anything that would answer your questions. You’d made a few notes, but it was only tiny pieces. One interesting thing was that if an empath found their soulmate, they could hear each other’s thoughts, but there was no conclusive evidence on the distance that worked. That didn’t help your other questions when it came to the Vaught family.

Frustrated, you tossed your phone on the bed and looked back at the list you’d been making. Reluctantly, you picked up the pen and jotted down other things. 

Dean seemed to know what I was feeling even if I hid it.He was always there when I had a nightmare.He never pushed anything intimate.All he ever did was try to comfort me and be there for me.He said he knew I was his soulmate at 16.The Vaughts

At that moment, goosebumps ran down your entire body. The Vaughts knew he was your soulmate. Dean had explained what had happened with that woman, Lisa. Even in your parents' letters, they had told you what the Vaughts were capable of. Now you had new questions, on top of the ones before.

Why didn’t Dean get closer to you? What was holding him back? Why wouldn’t he want to help you heal by being intimately close? What did your twenty-fifth birthday have to do with it all, and why was that date so important? 

That’s when you remembered Sam had told you that the powers that be were keeping this sort of thing from making it to the regular news. You glanced at the closed door of that bedroom and sighed, setting the pen down on the notepad. Yeah, you could storm back down there and demand answers, but what would it accomplish? 

You reluctantly got up and went through your bag, finding some comfortable pajama pants and a tank top. After changing and brushing out your hair, you laid on your back on the bed. You wanted to be alone, but you wanted so badly to have Dean there holding you like he would when you typically felt like this. The fact that he hadn’t come, hurt a bit, but you told yourself he was just busy hanging out with those he hadn’t seen in a while. You’d been the one to storm off.

My life sucks.

The thought made you roll onto your side, pull one of the pillows out from under the covers, and cuddle up to it. Your mark burned again, but you ignored it, no matter how badly it stung. You didn’t want to deal with anything, feeling as overwhelmed as you did. There were far too many questions circling your mind and just as many emotions coursing through your body to let you focus on any one thing, let alone deal with any of them.

With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes, exhausted in every sense of the word. Your body, mind, and soul needed rest. So, you let the heaviness in your eyes win, slowly closing them as your body relaxed into the mattress, letting sleep take you.

The sounds of hounds woke you sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps very early morning, pulling you from another nightmare. Your heart was pounding, and your breathing was ragged, but you forced yourself off the bed and to the window as the house seemed eerily quiet. The stillness outside on the grounds of Crowley’s property made you think the shadows were moving, watching you. A shiver ran down your body as you watched three large dogs dart across a section of lawn where a lamppost stood.

He’s here…

The thought scared you, and it was hard to breathe, as if something was pressing against your chest.

Dean…

Without thinking, you ran out of your room, needing to find him, more to reassure yourself that he was okay. Halfway down another hall, you stopped dead in your tracks as an image began forming in your mind. 

It was somewhere outside, on Crowley’s land, around his home. Four men in tactical gear were slowly making their way closer to the house, using the shadows to stay hidden. They almost reminded you of what a SWAT team looked like, guns and all. Now you saw dogs, big, black, fierce dogs, more than a dozen of them, moving in packs of three. They were hunting. They, too, were using the shadows to move, just as silently as the four men. Broken glass and a silent gunshot in one of the rooms of the house. The room was blurry, and hard to make out the details. Someone was sitting on the edge of the bed, and there was a dart on the person's neck, but you couldn’t make out enough details.

You shook your head a bit, pushing the images away. With the emotions swirling through your mind and body, you took a shaky breath, steadying your nerves. Something you had read online teased its way through your mind. 

Follow the thread.

For a moment, you closed your eyes, taking slow, deep breaths and letting them out just as slowly. You knew that in order to find it, you had to accept that Dean was your soul mate, which both terrified you and brought you a sense of peace. When you opened your eyes again, you turned to the direction you’d come from, feeling a strange pull.

The darkness in Crowley’s mansion wasn’t what brought the feelings of dread that seemed to seep into your nerves. It was the eerie silence, not even the dogs outside making a sound. The shadows seemed to dance or move of their own accord. You set your hand on the wall, letting it guide you through the darkness.

You tried to find that thread, but it eluded you. Some light came in through the large windows near the stairs that led down the main room. For a moment, you looked outside. The grounds were still, and that stillness felt out of place. A shiver ran down your spine as the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. It was like someone was watching you.

When you were able to pull your gaze from the window, you continued down the stairs, creeping quietly through the main entrance. Cautiously, you opened the dining area doors. You almost felt like a mouse thrown into a game of cat and mouse that you had no control over. Swallowing hard, you looked under the table. You let out a sigh of relief, having found nothing there. Finally managing a deep breath, you pushed yourself through the dining room and into the kitchen. 

The light wasn’t on, none of them were, and you hadn’t come across anyone, not even servants. For a moment, you thought you’d seen the flash of a light outside one of the kitchen windows. Slowly, you crept closer to it, cautiously glancing around. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure it would give away your location. 

A shadow that moved in the darkness outside the window sent a wave of fear throughout your body. Slowly, your hand covered your mouth, and you began backing up just as slowly. Someone came up behind you when you reached the center of the kitchen, wrapping one arm around you and putting a hand over your mouth. Just as you were about to scream, he spoke.

“Shhh, it’s me, Sweetheart,” he whispered softly, slowly taking his hand from your mouth.

You swung around in his arms and wrapped yours over his shoulders. “I was so worried something had happened to you,” you whispered, keeping your voice down.

“I’m okay,” Dean quietly tried to reassure you, holding you close, while also keeping a watchful eye. “Come on, it’s not safe here.”

Dean quietly but quickly led you to what looked like a study. There were no windows here, but the entire staff, Crowley, and Benny were there. There were also a couple of other men, although you hadn’t met them before. Dean pulled you into his arms after he closed and locked the door, wanting to help calm your nerves.

“Good, you found her,” Crowley said, both relieved and pleased, but he wasn’t happy that Dean had gone looking for you.

Dean just shot him a glare but stayed quiet; his focus was only on you now. Benny stayed leaning against a nearby wall, his arms crossed, unhappy with the situation.

“What’s going on?” you finally asked in a whisper, not wanting to mention the images you’d seen from earlier.

“Nick isn’t one to follow the orders of anyone,” Crowley sighed. “It’s why I arranged to have the three of you brought here until the next court date. The FBI isn’t capable of keeping anyone safe from that family.” 

Slowly, you looked over at him but stayed in Dean’s arms. “You knew they’d come after me?” you asked, a little confused.

“Love, he’s not just after you. He needs leverage, to make you comply. Figured you would have realized that already.” Crowley stated as he shot Dean a knowing look, which you didn’t miss. “That whole family knows they only have so much time before you’re useless to them.”

That made your brow furrow in complete confusion. You pulled away from Dean, looking up at him, now needing answers. “What haven’t you told me?” you asked him bluntly, but also were terrified of the answer.

You saw the sadness flash across his eyes before he hid it, even if he couldn’t look at you. “If Cole marries you before your mark comes in, it won’t matter who your soulmate is, your mark will change to his name, because you’re an empath.” Dean finally confessed quietly.

The silence in the room was deafening, but your heart was pounding, and again, it felt like you could barely breathe. For several moments, all you could do was stand there in a state of shock. It was the final piece to the puzzle that made everything else make sense, and the thought of that terrified you. 

“How do I make my mark come in all the way?” you asked quietly, your voice shaky, and your nerves felt like they were all exposed and firing all at once.

Dean finally met your gaze, as it had never left him. There was pain and hurt in his eyes, but you also saw a hint of hope. You could see his hesitation like he wanted desperately to give you the answer, but something was holding him back.

“Bloody hell,” Crowley’s exasperated words broke the silence. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”

That made both you and Dean jump a little, but you never looked away from him, even when he shot Crowley another glare before looking at you again. He managed a deep breath, but it was shaky. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, the man who had been standing near Crowley, watching monitors, spoke up.

“The Hellhounds have done their job. I’ll inform the police and the FBI,” the man told Crowley, his British accent thick.

Crowley took an annoyed breath, “Thank you, Ketch. You may all return to your rooms. The situation has been handled.”

With a heavy heart, you went to the door first, unlocked it, and headed toward your room. The staff followed you out, Ketch bringing up the rear, but Dean and Benny stayed behind with Crowley. You rubbed the place where your mark was, your gaze on the floor as you slowly made your way back to your room.

Dean’s words seemed to play on repeat through your mind. At least now you understood why the powers that be had kept something like this under wraps. If it got out, there were far too many grim possibilities that could happen. What was bugging you was that Dean knew more; they all did, and you still hadn’t gotten all the answers you needed.

You closed your bedroom door but couldn’t relax, so you paced a few feet from the foot of the bed. Your mind swam with questions. After several minutes, you finally just plopped down on the foot of your bed, frustrated, when you felt a sharp stinging feeling on the side of your neck. Just as you reached for it and your vision went blurry, someone came into view as they stepped out of the closet, and then everything went black.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 16 - Coming soon

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[jo-harrington]

Heaven - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie had written off ever finding his person. Yeah he could fool around and have some fun, but at the end of the day no one would look at him the way he wanted them to. Until you came along and, in the most unexpected way, changed his life forever.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Fluff, Love at First Sight, Soulmates(?), Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Implied Sexual Encounters, Implied Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Abandonment, Biblical and Other Literary References

Note: Set before Hell, we have our introduction to Reader/OC for my Van Helsing AU/Kas!Eddie series, As Above, So Below. Once again, this can be read as a stand-alone, but if you're planning on reading the eventual series, you might want to read the prequels.

That being said, this fic and the subsequent fics/chapters in the series will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find the As Above, So Below masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it. Made for it stitch by stitch as a glove is made for a hand."

—The Business of Heaven, Daily Readings from C.S. Lewis (1984)

March 1984

When Eddie met you, he had all but given up on finding love.

He had heard it all before.

He was young. He still had the rest of his life ahead of him. Maybe love wasn't in Hawkins. He just needed to have patience.

But it stung to watch the others receive affection, care, and understanding when he waited. Wanting, deserving, but never receiving.

Until you walked into the Hideout, wet and weary after a long drive to an unfamiliar place in unforgiving conditions.

You weren't some spectacular beauty, or otherworldly siren, or heavenly angel that he would expect in a fantasy novel or a DnD game. You were, quite frankly, a mess. But as you turned and nodded your head along to the music, Eddie swore his heartbeat was louder than Mickey's relentless assault on the drums.

He approached you at the end of the set as you sat at the bar nursing a cherry coke and circling want ads in the classified section of the Hawkins Post.

He asked you if you liked cheese fries before he even said hello.

And the laugh you made was loud and honking, but it was nevertheless perfect.

You were a disaster made, he hoped, just for him.

June 1984

“The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall rise,” Eddie muttered as he traced the words etched into your forearm. “That from the Bible?”

"Yeah."

“That’s pretty badass.”

While all of his classmates were dressed in their best clothes—their caps and gowns—being celebrated by the fanfare that befitted the class of 1984, you and Eddie were spread out in the back of his van in your underwear, studying each others tattoos after a day of swimming and skipping rocks at Lover's Lake.

It was a lazy kind of day.

You had sensed his anxiety in the days prior, when you asked about the end of the school year, about his plans after graduation. He initially wasn't going to tell you that he wouldn’t be graduating. He tried to skirt around it. But somehow you knew.

You always knew. Because you knew him.

You suggested a day out, just the two of you. Something special. As opposed to the many "dates" he had taken you on where his friends ended up tagging along. You promised you didn't mind, but he would have liked to kiss you freely without some doofus making lewd noises in the background.

But your idea had been perfect.

Graduation was played up to be some kind of achievement, something special. But how could it be when you were surrounded by a hundred other kids who all knew the same shit you did. Probably didn’t even know it, actually; they were just good at remembering it for a little while.

How could that feel special?

But this? Learning about you? It was more important than math or science or some other useless bullshit.

Knowing you—loving you—was the most special thing he could ever achieve. And he was proud to say that he was getting straight A’s.

“Listen," you started as Eddie pressed a kiss to your skin. "I know all of the love-thy-neighbor-Jesus shit is pretty lame. But…I don’t know, some things are cool.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked.

“Some of the Saints…reliquaries, catacombs, the Book of Revelation,” you shrugged. “You can kind of choose what you want to believe in, I guess.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point of organized religion?” He huffed and rolled onto his back, pulling your arm across his torso so you could rest your head on his shoulder and your body could drape across his comfortably.

"Isn’t what the point?" You fished the sharp pendant of your necklace from between your bodies and laid it on his bare chest beside his.

His was simple, a guitar pick he'd caught at the first concert he ever attended.

Yours, intricate, a silver cross with flowers and vines intermingled around the arms. Hyacinths, you told him once. As though he knew what they were. But he made a mental note to try and find them for your birthday, since you seemed to like them enough to have a necklace with them.

“Well, it's organized. That you all believe the same…I dunno. Stories? Lessons?” He rambled on as his hand gestured absentmindedly.

“It's all just…rules made by old men,” you scoffed. “Some stuffy guy in the Vatican says…I don’t know…don’t step on a crack or you’ll break your mother’s back and earn a one way ticket to hell? And I’m supposed to believe it?”

“That’s just a superstition.” He paused for a moment and snorted. “Kind of ironic that I, a supposed devil worshiper, am telling you this, Miss Catholic School.”

You rolled your eyes at him but still smiled.

“Pretty sure if someone knows more about Satan between the two of us,” you giggled. “It’s me.”

“Shhh, you’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

July 1984

The 4th of July fell on the most perfect day.

It might have rained a little earlier that morning, but Eddie had certainly slept through it, and it made way for perfect skies and just the slightest slickness to the grass as he and the boys ran around the open fields surrounding Weathertop.

The van was full of fireworks, and Jack's mom had set them up with sandwiches and a few coolers of iced tea and lemonade. Mickey brought the beers. Eddie had the good sense to invite some of the younger guys too, which meant Gareth's mom had sent him along with a few extra pies she had made.

Apple, Strawberry Rhubarb, and Cherry—Eddie's favorite.

His mouth watered for the tantalizing summer feast, but he craved you more.

You were a little late to the party, having worked the opening shift at Bradley's, but before long your clunky, hand-me-down Marquis pulled up alongside his van.

"The freezers went down at work," you called to the boys. "So I have, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops. Can I get some help before they melt? I have no A/C, so it’s hot as Hell."

It had just reached the height of the day, and the boys whooped and tripped over each other to get to the sweet, icy treats.

"In the backseat," you reminded them. "Not the trunk."

“Why don’t you let me take a look at your car?” Eddie asked, snaking his arms around your waist.

“To fix the a/c? If you want.” You shrugged but beamed at him. “It was my grandpa’s car. It’s on its last legs anyway.”

"At least let me look at the trunk." Eddie offered and you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you playfully. "What? Then you wouldn't have to shove, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops in the backseat."

"I swear, the trunk is just rusted shut at this point," you supplied with a laugh. "There's no use."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he pouted. He knew you knew when he was fishing for a kiss, but you gave in to his pouting anyway and immediately chased after his lips to plant one on him.

That night after the feast is consumed and everyone is enjoying the fireworks, Eddie couldn’t ignore the feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

His closest friends would be gone soon, off to college and leaving him behind. His band practically broken apart, dreams shattered, if not for Gareth and Jeff.

Everything was changing.

And the only constant he could count on now was you.

He couldn’t help but worry how long it would be before you'd leave him too.

October 1984

The cicadas chirped and buzzed wildly. A mourning dove that had nested on top of the trailer in the spring and was still there and cooed restlessly, calling for a mate that had left it behind. The cheap window units Wayne had gotten from the hardware store ages ago chugged and clunked away to keep the trailer just on the side of cool enough to wear clothes.

They were sounds of summer, not fall, and most certainly not Halloween. But it was an unseasonably, disgustingly hot week, and it did nothing to help Eddie get into a chilling, haunted mindset as he planned a special one-off campaign for Hellfire on the 31st.

His repeat senior year hadn’t started off too well. The teachers were unforgiving, the students unkind. But he had promised Wayne he would try.

Things like the band and Hellfire certainly made it bearable.

You made it bearable.

You’d been working a lot of nights lately, but still made time for him and promised him special incentives and treats if he did well in school.

If he showed up on time for a week, you could have a sleepover at your apartment. Pass a test with a grade above a C, you’d tell him a secret.

He hadn’t gotten quite so good of a grade on a test yet but he had written a killer essay in English and he had negotiated your participation in Hellfire for Halloween, since the roster was slightly lacking this year. It hadn’t even taken much negotiation, really; you were just as excited to learn everything about him as he was about you.

So you’d spent a lazy Sunday afternoon with him as he explained the mechanics of the game and helped you create a character.

“…I forgot to mention if you do pick a rogue, you have proficiency in de—what’re you looking at now?”

He’d paused his lesson to grab some drinks, and when he returned, you were frozen in place, staring intently at a page in his players guide, brow furrowed. One of your hands clutched the book tightly, and the other touched the words on the page almost reverently.

He set your sodas on the nightstand and then glanced over at the book.

“Ah, we hadn’t gotten there yet,” he laughed and flopped down on the bed. “Tsk, tsk, reading ahead. But don’t worry, paladins are really cool. They pledge an oath to a deity—devote their whole lives—and then get this…divine ability so long as they uphold it. They can heal or even smite—”

You slammed the book shut at that and Eddie jumped in shock. You refused to look at him for a moment, rubbing your hands over the cover of the book in contemplation, before you looked up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I think I’ll be a rogue,” you nodded. “That sounded really cool.”

“A-are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat and sank down into his pillows. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, nuzzled him slightly, and shoved the book back into his hands. “So what else do I need to play?”

November 1984

Eddie woke abruptly to frantic banging on the front door of the trailer.

It had been raining when he went to bed, which usually helped him sleep. At first he thought the storm had just gotten stronger. 

Until he heard your voice.

You had abandoned the front door in favor of the side door near his bedroom. You tripped over the bowl he left for the stray cats and swore viciously. He chuckled tiredly until the banging started again and his heart seized in his chest.

You weren’t knocking. Your hands were practically slapping at the door.

“Please, God, please, please.” He could hear you muttering desperately.

He kicked the soft comforter off and pushed himself out of bed to get to you. As soon as the door was open you crashed into his chest, your arms wound around his waist, and you sobbed. Great, broken sobs that made his heart break.

He was about to put his arms around you, to soothe you and ask you what was wrong, when he smelled it.

Smoke. Fire. Acrid and cloying, engulfing you.

He looked down and was shocked. You were filthy; covered in dirt and soot and muck. The edges of your clothes and the ends of your hair were singed. You were visibly shaking.

"W-what happened?" Eddie asked frantically, prying your arms from around him, trying to see if you were hurt. He froze at the sight of blood caked on your hands and wrists. His stomach churned when he noticed the streaky stains it left below your nostrils. "Are you ok? Are you hurt? What happened?"

You simply shook your head and collapsed back against him.

He couldn't help the fear that overtook him, but he stayed strong as he pulled you into the trailer. As he got you into the shower and washed...whatever happened off of you. There were no cuts or burns or bruises. He tried to ask again, once you had calmed down enough that the tears fell silently and the only sounds you made were an occasional hiccup.

The next morning you were fine. You told him there was an accident at Bradley's. But there was no report on the news or in the paper. The building was fully intact. All of the staff were present and happily employed. You had no problem going back to work; in fact, you did so with a smile on your face.

Eddie never asked.

Because he knew you had secrets.

You never told him.

Because he never got a better grade than a C.

A month after that night, though, Hawkins National Laboratory was shut down and abandoned.

January 1985

"...can't I have anything for myself. It's unfair." Your muffled voice pierced through his dreams and pulled him into awareness.

He had been a light sleeper after that night in November, especially when you stayed over. You muttered in your sleep sometimes; it would wake him. You'd shift just far enough away; that would wake him too.

You had never had a full-on conversation before, though.

"Sins of the father, and sins of his father before that. Blah blah."

He blinked the bleariness from his eyes and watched as you paced at the foot of his bed. You wore nothing but your necklace. The cross swung wildly as your arms gestured and when you turned on your heel to continue your endless back and forth. Your voice was hushed.

It was half of an argument with an unseen adversary.

“I need a break…I know I haven’t been at this for long, but I’m sick and tired of it already.”

He vaguely wondered if you were hallucinating. A bad high. You’d always been reluctant to smoke with him but he had insisted tonight. After tangled limbs and quiet declarations in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Words of worship whispered to one another. The buzz beneath his skin had felt foreign and he figured the weed could mellow it out.

Maybe it had the opposite effect on you.

But then Eddie felt it.

As awareness settled over him, he felt an unseen, suffocating presence. It felt like the days where the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, only this time...the weight of the entire universe, every atom and every molecule, every moment--past, present, and future--existed all at once in his small bedroom and crushed him flat on his bed.

You continued on your one-sided rant and he didn’t know how you managed to move so freely when he felt so trapped, pinned in place by the weight of it. He tried to get your attention but he couldn't move, couldn't breath.

In the corner of his eye he swore he could see it. Blazing fire and wings and eyes.

He gasped and looked but saw nothing there. Still, the suffocating weight closed in on him further, pressing and squeezing, crushing him. And fear gripped him tightly. He wrenched his eyes shut and for the first time, probably in his life, he prayed.

He begged for it to go away.

Because if it didn't. He was going to die.

The bed shifted with your weight as you crawled to him and as soon as your hands reached him, he could breathe again.

“Eddie, oh my god please, are you ok?” You asked frantically, cupping his face in your hands. “Please say something.”

He gasped for air and sat up, clutching your hands to his face. You were his lifeline, his savior.

He closed his eyes and a million thoughts raced through his mind.What the fuck was that? Are you ok? Maybe he had a bad high, not you? Was it a nightmare? What the fuck was that?

February 1985

Your goodbye was expected. But that didn't mean it didn't cut him straight to his core.

You had been waiting for him one Friday night after Hellfire; he had driven the guys home only to find you waiting outside the trailer. Your car was packed with your belongings, similar to the way it had been the night you had stumbled into Hawkins.

He felt like vomiting as soon as he saw you.

You fed him some story about a sick, dying grandmother. How your mother had left a message on your answering machine begging you to come back home.

"She needs me," you told him.

"I need you," he replied desperately.

You couldn't do much more than shake your head and break down in tears.

"I'll come back," you promised. "It won't be long. Just wait for me."

In hindsight, he wished he had screamed and cried and begged you to stay. He wished that he had offered to go with you. Chicago wasn't that far. Wayne would have been mad, but then...Eddie would still have you.

Eddie was a good liar, though. He could fool anyone if he tried hard enough. He could even lie to himself.

He smiled and nodded and pretended to understand.

"Sure," he agreed. "I'll wait."

Your eyes started watering and you pulled him into the tightest hug. He wrapped his arms around you numbly, and as he did, he vaguely remembered some bullshit myth--

How humans were created...conjoined together. 4 arms, 4 legs, a head with two faces...but the Gods feared their power, split them in two. Condemned them to spend their lives apart.

--And he wished that he had some sort of secret, divine power to meld himself back together with you. Because surely, you belonged there with him. And if he concentrated on squeezing you just right, you would simply fuse together and you would never be apart again.

Life didn't work that way though.

You reluctantly pulled away from him and pressed a wet kiss to his lips.

Before you got in the car to drive away forever, you took off your necklace and pressed the cross into his hand. It practically burned.

"Don't lose that," you told him. "I'll be back for it."

He closed his fist around it and nodded, unable to trust himself with words.

He watched as you drove away, stayed standing outside until he couldn't see your tail lights anymore.

He let himself in the trailer, glad that Wayne was still at work--

You'd be back. You promised. You loved him. He loved you. You told him almost everything. You brought him hope. And care. And you made him feel complete. You'd be back.

--as he threw your necklace into the furthest corner of the room.

As he screamed in agony.

“Life moves very fast. It can go from Heaven to Hell in a matter of seconds.”

—Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho (2003)

[trashogram]

Even I’m getting tired of my hypercritical ass, but I just wanna get one more thing out there about the third short for Helluva Boss bc it’s stuck in my brain:

Does anyone else get the “lol Mary sues are the worst thing to ever exist in fandom” vibe from it? That used to be a very popular sentiment, and honestly still is in many circles, so people felt not only safe — but also entitled — to shit on people that would make OCs/self-inserts that were emphatically perfect with no flaws and beloved by nearly all the canon characters from whatever movie or show or book the fic was written for.

Usually the ones that created these fics were pretty young and were more typically girls expressing themselves via writing. No they weren’t really high quality and yes they were a little embarrassing to outsiders but only as embarrassing as anything else adolescents do. But people would really go to task mocking and shaming these kinds of fics and art.

And then there was a big shift rather recently where people were defending Mary Sue projects because a collective understanding that what young girls liked and indulged in — romantic comedies, harlequin romance novels, boy bands, Twilight, etc. — often got vitriolic shame for no actual reason.

But the Emberlynn short feels kind of like a regression of this to me? Shaming girls for being “embarrassingly hormonal and melodramatic” and for enjoying supernatural romance/smut that they can project onto and feel like they’re part of it?

Idk, I understand that this might be gymnastic level reaching or seeing more to something than there really is, but I feel like Vivziepop and a good portion of her collaborators did grow up and partake in fandom around the time where shaming the Mary Sue concept was all the rage. And I don’t think Viv grew out of that mindset, or there’s a strong possibility that she still thinks that way and hasn’t grown past it given other things she does that reek of misogyny and 2012 trolling.

(Please also note that I’m not saying some of the things that are made fun of don’t deserve criticism — the My Immortal HP fanfic and Twilight have racist and sexist connotations that deserved rightful drawback. I’m more talking about the general disgust toward women and young girls being fans of something that specifically appeals to them like the romance and sexy stuff.)

[rookfeatherrambles]

hey so for the angle that cries ink ive been wondering how jon like got under the institute in the first place and how similar he is to the jon the know, the character from TMA. like before he was trapped was he our precious little guy who read statements and then immediately disagreed with him or is he more like an OC with a completely different backstory. i don’t know a whole lot about fics in general or how much youre willing to share about this one in particular but i would love to know some things about jons backstory if you could share? idk a whole lot about much of anything rn or if youve shared anything yet that I just haven’t seen so idk this is your sign to tell me as much as you want whenever you want to ig

long story short: would love to know some about jons backstory :)

considering I haven't written anything but chapter 1 so far... and I did yell about this on my blog before, I don't consider this a spoiler. Jon was put under the Institute by Jonah Magnus! You could say that the Institute was built because of Jon, but that's not quite true. However, the place Jon resides and has for like idk 150 years of his 200 that he's spent on this earth was made to be a home for BOTH of them. That, obviously didn't happen, and now its Jon's prison. As for if Jon is the same... yes and no. Yes, he was canon all the way up until the finale, spoilers for mag 198 and 199 and 200, but he went kinda crazy, if killing Jonah, becoming the pupil and then going through with his plan to burn out the fears is crazy. I think its real sensible! (that's a joke). Anyway, mag 200 didn't go according to plan. the panopticon didn't blow, and Jon set about his villian era. I have no idea how I'm gonna write it but he basically waged war, being marked by all fears, he could puppet them (thanks web) to a degree, and he pitted them against eachother to the death. The world burned. He BECAME the Extinction, do you get me? And he kept Martin by his side until, well. He was caught in the crossfire. The End doesn't barter its dead, even to God. Martin was gone, and Jon quickly destabilized and was deposed. I'm pretty sure he was draged kicking and screaming (and cursing) to hilltop house and the rift and thrown into it. Thus, the web's plan was ultimately fulfilled, it just took like a century. In the void between millions of realities, the fears (mainly the web) reshaped Jon. As punishment for him trying to escape the strings he'd been dancing on, he was remade in a mockery of the savior he had tried to be. Markless, beautiful and ethereal, connected to every fear, a harbinger, an angel. They took his voice too, his only weapon. Jon was brought to an almost identical world, but 200 years into the past, and given directly into the grasp of one Jonah Magnus who was just dipping toes into the supernatural. Jon's punishment, is to be immortal, and to be the reason every single person he cares about or so much as knows, falls to the fears. he is the reason they are here, after all. So yeah. That's Jon. He's been alive for 200 years, and all he wants to do is see Martin again, and apologize. Only, his Martin is dead, and this world's Martin has no knowledge of Jon's feelings or even his existence.

[spnexploration]

Escort

Synopsis: Dean needs an escort to help him with his cover on a case (more of a case fic with flirting, no smut)

Pairing: I see it as Dean Winchester x reader but could be read as Dean Winchester x OC (no physical descriptions are given and she goes by what is clearly a fake name the whole time)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Words: 3k

This fulfils the Escort square of my 2023 SPN AU Bingo @spnaubingo

A/N: It's nice to write a really competent, confident female character!

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Dean,” Sam implored, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sammy, I swear to God, you keep whining about the plans and I’m gonna stop telling you the plans.”

“She’s a distraction at best, and a liability at worst!”

Dean rounded on him, “Is your complaint because she sells her services?”

“What? No.”

“Really? Because you’ve sure made a lot of jokes over the years about women in her line of business.”

“Dean, stop it. I’m worried about her getting hurt, or getting you hurt.”

“It will be fine. For all she knows, I just needed a girl to make me look good to the other suits. She won’t even know I’m casing the joint while we mingle. Nothing will happen, you and I will go back later without the girl. Girl will just earn some easy cash looking pretty.”

Sam sighed. Dean took that as a win. He gave his brother one last look before grabbing his keys off the motel room table. “I’ll go find a girl.”

---

Dean rolled down the window as he pulled up to a girl standing on the street corner. He was already in a tux. “Hey sweetheart,” he said as he rolled down the window. “You wanna have a Pretty Woman moment tonight?”

She looked like she was struggling to control the urge to roll her eyes. He liked her already.

“Hey handsome,” she said, leaning through the open car window. “What did you have in mind?”

“I need an escort for a big fancy party my work is throwing.”

“And you didn’t want to call a real escort service?”

“The others probably know all of them.” She laughed. “So I thought I’d branch out.” In reality, he didn’t want the arrangement written down anywhere.

“And let me guess, you want some services that aren’t available on their menu, too?”

“Nah, strictly escort tonight. Possibly the easiest money you’ll make, except for the need to smile your way through painful small talk about the best way to fold napkins.”

“And what would you have me wear?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“I got ya a dress. It’s in the back, we’ll go to the service station and you can get changed in the bathroom.”

“How long’s the party?”

“Few hours.”

“I charge $120/hr.”

“Fine.”

She opened the car door and slid inside. “Nice car,” she remarked as she ran her hands over the seat.

“My Baby’s the best,” Dean replied with a smirk, before speeding off.

---

Dean pulled up to the line of cars waiting to go into the party. He turned to the woman beside him, now resplendent in a beautiful dress he’d gotten at the op shop earlier that afternoon.

“Uh, I uh, I forgot to ask. What should I call you?” he said, suddenly awkward.

She laughed. “You can call me… Hazel.”

“Alright, Hazel it is. Where’d we meet?”

“The street corner.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I had a flat and you helped me with it.”

“Ok. Recently?” He enjoyed letting her lead.

“Just the other day.”

“Sounds good.”

“So, what do I call you, handsome?”

“Drake,” Dean said, his hand on the car door handle as a valet came up to greet them. He headed around the car and opened her door, holding his hand out to help her out. He reached his arm around her waist and held her to him. “I’m new at the company,” he whispered, “So not many people know me.”

She shot him a quick, concerned glance before schooling her features back into a smile. Dean led her up the steps and into the party, flashing two tickets on his way past.

---

The party was going well. No one seemed to mind that they’d never seen him before in their lives, and Hazel fit in better than he could have imagined. He hadn’t expected that the girl he’d gotten off a street corner would be able to pull off the escort idea, but he’d been hoping she would take the attention away from him. That wasn’t happening now that she was actually good at it, but instead they seemed to be blending in. He’d take it.

He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to her ear, “I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” She smiled at him and he walked off. He glanced around the room, but he couldn’t see the artefact he was looking for.

He headed into another room, still surreptitiously checking out the walls and display cases. He headed for an empty corridor and pulled his phone out, quickly dialling Sam. “Yo, you got any idea where this thing might be? It’s not in the main hall.”

“Dean, you are the one who said that was exactly where it would be and we didn’t need any further investigation!”

“Yeah, well, I might be wrong. Zero amulets.”

“I dunno, keep scoping out the place. What’d you do with the girl?”

“Told her I was going to the bathroom, so I can’t take too long.”

“Yet another reason it was a bad idea to take her.”

“Shut it, bitch.” Dean hung up the phone, Sam was no use.

He quickly scoped out the room closest to him before deciding he needed to head back to his date.

---

She smiled as he approached. “You took a while,” she said.

“Couldn’t find it, and then there was a line of women. They take forever.”

“You try peeing in one of these dresses.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said with a grin. She really was perfect, he’d like to have taken her out for real some time.

He glanced around, seeing the drinks table. “You want another-” he started to ask, before fading out. He saw it, the amulet. It was around the neck of the bloody hostess of the party. Not. Good.

“Yes?” Hazel asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“I- uh- sorry.”

“You see something you like?” she said with a smirk, following his line of sight to the beautiful woman with the amulet.

“Oh, no, just, you know, lost my train of thought.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, deadpan.

He looked back at her properly, “Tonight’s all about you, sweetheart.” He flashed her a smile, that usually worked.

“Let’s go talk to her, if you’re so enamoured,” she said, starting to walk towards the lady.

“No! No, wait!” he said, reaching for her hand to prevent her getting near the woman. He had a sneaking suspicion that being near the amulet would’ve been very bad for the hostess, given the descriptions he’d read about its powers. It hadn’t been entirely clear, but he had a feeling she might be being possessed by a powerful being. He didn’t want Hazel anywhere near her.

Hazel rolled her eyes and tugged her hand of his grip, heading towards the woman. “No, Hazel!” Dean said, which brought the attention of the hostess on him.

“HUNTERS!” she yelled, suddenly holding a fireball in her hand. Fuck, a witch. Hazel had paused in shock, so Dean grabbed her waist and pulled her behind him. Others were screaming and running. The witch threw the fireball, Dean dived out of the way and pulled Hazel along with him. He raced to hide behind the bar as she threw another one. The room was rapidly emptying of party-goers, running for their lives.

He reached into his pants and pulled out his gun. “Stay down,” he hissed at Hazel, who had just peeked over the bar. To his dismay, he saw her reach up under her dress and similarly pull out a gun. He groaned.

“NYPD, we can discuss your activities later,” she whispered to him.

“Of all the women on all the street corners, I got the secret cop.” She started looking like she was going to peek over the bar again and he pulled sharply on her arm to keep her down. “If those aren’t witch-killing bullets, you’ve got no chance.”

“Of all the thieves on all the street corners, I had to get the deranged one who thinks witches are real.”

“You see that fireball she threw at us? That ain’t normal, sweetheart.”

Speaking of fireballs, one took that moment to crash into the glass mirror above them, raining small pieces of glass all over them. Dean sheltered Hazel’s body with his own, then pulled out his phone.

“She’s a freaking witch, Sam!” he hissed into the phone after Sam had picked up. “We’re under attack.”

“Who is?”

“The woman who owns the amulet, she’s wearing it!”

There was a loud crack as the bar they were hiding behind took a frontal hit. It wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I’m on my way,” Sam said in the phone.

“That might be too late,” Dean replied, looking for an exit strategy. He couldn’t see one.

“There!” Hazel hissed, pointing at a door in the panelling of the back wall of the bar area. She crawled over to it, wrenching it open. “It’s a dumbwaiter.”

“Get in it,” Dean replied, “I’ll send you down.”

“No, we can both get in it. You’re not going to survive by yourself here.” To emphasise her point, more of the mirror exploded above her head. He was pretty sure the witch was just playing with them now.

He stood up, trying to get a good shot at the witch. She was surrounded by henchmen and impossible to fire at, but she threw another fireball at him.

“Ok,” he said, crossing quickly to her.

“You get in first,” Hazel ordered.

“No.”

“We’ll only fit if I’m on top of you, get in.”

He saw the determination on her face and surrendered. He awkwardly climbed in to the cramped space, then held out his hands to take her. She squished herself in on top of him, hitting a button on the side before closing the door. The cart began to drop.

Dean held his gun up, pointed at the door, as Hazel unlatched it. They were in the wine cellar, with no one around. The staff had probably run off at the sound of the gun fight upstairs. It was even harder to get out then it had been to get in, but they managed it.

Dean took a look around, looking for a door that might lead to the outside. “There,” Hazel whispered, pointing at a door to the left of them. He nodded and followed her, pulling his phone back out of his pocket.

“Sam?”

“Thank God,” Sam replied. He could hear the sound of a car, Sam must’ve jacked one. “What’s going on?”

“We’re in the cellar.”

“Ok, you’re going to need to get out and meet me so we can go back in and gank the witch.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Sam. They’re going to be looking for us.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I go back in, gank the witch. Sam, you get Hazel out.”

“Uh huh,” Hazel said, spinning back to him, “And how exactly are you going to do that alone?”

“Sweetheart, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“As I might have mentioned earlier, mine either.”

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Sam yelled from the phone.

“Hazel’s a cop,” Dean replied, moving very close to her. “But no witch-killing bullets and this ain’t your normal perp, so you’re not coming with me.”

“You try to stop me going in there and it’s a crime,” she glared at him. “Obstruction of justice.”

“The justice you were looking for tonight was men who want to pick up sex workers, not witches who want to kill.”

“I’m multi-tasking.”

“The hell you are.”

“OI!” Sam yelled again. “Can you two stop squaring off for one minute to come up with a plan so you don’t both die?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Right,” Sam continued. “How many witch-killing bullets you got left, Dean?”

“4.”

“Give me 2,” Hazel replied.

“That will halve our chances, sweetheart.”

“You keep being that arrogant and I’ll cuff you to the dumbwaiter.”

“Jesus Christ, can you both stop it?!” Sam complained.

“Ok. I give you two bullets, and then what?”

“I go in as bait,” Hazel responded, “and you hide. If the moment presents itself, you shoot.”

“You are not going in there as bait. I did not drag an innocent into this to get killed. I’ll be bait, you hide.”

She glared at him, but eventually nodded.

“And you’re taking 3 of the bullets.”

“That’s suicide.”

“It increases our chances of you ganking the witch.”

“I’m not a bad shot.”

“Me either.”

“Ok, I’m nearly there,” Sam said from the phone, seemingly forgotten in the standoff between Dean and Hazel. “I’ll try and get in and bring extra munition. I’m tall and I have long hair, please don’t shoot me.”

“Alright, see you soon Sammy.” Dean hung up the phone. He opened his gun and started to take out bullets, handing them to her.

“So,” Hazel said with a smirk, “Dean, is it? That’s what the guy on the phone called you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Hazel isn’t your real name either. I’ll give you 5 minutes to get in a good position before I start the distraction.”

She nodded and started to jog away to the right. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

---

Dean took a deep breath. He’d pulled out his other gun, filled with silver bullets that were going to be useless against a witch. But they might be good on henchmen, any bullet’s a good bullet if you’re human. And they’d make a distraction.

He put the normal gun in his left hand, saving his one shot with the witch-killing bullet for his dominant hand. He didn’t think he’d get a good shot, but he’d make it count if he did.

He estimated it had been about 5 minutes since Hazel had gone. Show time.

He crept up the stairs at the opposite end to where she’d gone. He could see henchmen scouring the other rooms, probably looking for him and Hazel. He took a moment to steel himself, then headed around the corner, back into the main room.

He started firing with his left-hand gun as soon as he entered the room, taking down random henchmen. Fairly quickly he was having to dive to the side, another fireball headed his way. He didn’t know where Hazel was, which he realised was a bit of a flaw in his plan. He didn’t know where to lead the witch.

Not that he was really in control of the situation. He was barely surviving as it was. He fired over his shoulder and ran for cover.

He was diving for new cover when he spotted Sam out the corner of his eye. He diverted the other direction, hoping he was still creating enough of a diversion.

Suddenly, the room exploded behind him. He span around, ducking his head under his arms to shield himself from debris.

“Witch is dead,” he head Sam yell, “Let’s go.”

“Gotta find the girl,” Dean yelled back, searching around. He could see Sam doing the same thing on the other side of the room, intermingled with the two of them firing at the few henchmen who hadn’t fled or died already. The explosion had been dramatic, Dean had no idea how Sam had caused it.

Dean finally found Hazel, trying to extricate herself from under some debris. He lifted the remnants of a table off her, holding his hand out to her to pull her up. She limped out so he wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her move faster. They quickly made it to Sam and got out of the building.

---

“I don’t know what the hell I just witnessed tonight but I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to my supervisors,” Hazel said when they were back at the Impala.

“If I were you, I’d leave out the witch throwing fireballs. Doesn’t go down well,” Dean replied.

“I suppose you want me to leave out that the serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester were here too.”

Dean shot her a glare. “We’re not serial killers, we hunt the supernatural.”

“And sometimes the supernatural like to impersonate us and give us a bad name,” Sam added. “We didn’t shoot those people in that footage from the bank vault, monsters with our faces did.”

“Any other day and I wouldn’t have believed you, but tonight I’m a little more inclined. One question though – you always pick up random women to bring into harm's way?”

“Uh, not normally, no,” Dean said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I genuinely thought we were just going to be looking for the amulet tonight, and I just wanted someone to try and take some of the attention off me. Sorry.”

She laughed, “Wow, you don’t seem like a man who apologises easily.”

Sam, behind Dean, was laughing and shaking his head.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dean asked her.

“I have to call this in.”

Dean nodded, grimacing slightly.

“But that doesn’t mean I have to mention you,” she continued.

Dean smiled. Sam said, “Thank you.”

“When did you know?” Dean asked. “Who we were, I mean.”

“You looked a little familiar to me when I got in the car, but I thought you’d just been in the photo list of known sex worker users I’d looked at. Wasn’t until I learnt your names were Sam and Dean and you were handing me special bullets that I remembered.”

Dean nodded.

“Alright, you two better hit the road before anyone gets here. They probably already noticed the explosion.”

“Do I get to know your real name?” Dean said with one of his charming smiles. She gave a smirk and pulled a folded business card from out of a hidden compartment in her gun. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She reached over and kissed his cheek, “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Anytime,” Dean replied, opening the driver’s door and jumping in. Sam jumped in the other side and they sped off, into the night.

“So how’d you make an explosion? Or did she just explode when you shot her?” Dean asked Sam.

“Witch-killing grenade, been working on it as a prototype. Same idea as the bullets.”

“Niiiiiiice.”

Dean twirled the business card in his fingers. Would've liked to get to know that girl some more.

.

.

.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural tag list:

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

@magssteenkamp

SPN Fanfic Pond Dean x Reader tag list:

@babypieandwhiskey

@bkwrm523

@buckys-zomdoll

@canadianspnhunter

@cas-backwards-tie

@castieltrash1

@deanscarlett

@deanwanddamons

@ellewritesfix05

@emilyshurley

@emoryhemsworth

@firefly-in-darkness

@idreamofplaid

@ilovedean-spn2

@kalesrebellion

@katelyn--renee

@kayteonline

@kickingitwithkirk

@lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

@manawhaat

@melbelle45

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@mysupernaturalfics

@notnaturalanahi

@plaidstiel-wormstache

@sinceriouslyamellpadalecki

@supernatural-jackles

@there-must-be-a-lock

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing

@trend90s

@waywardjoy

@whispersandwhiskerburn

@akshi8278

@ssonia13

[spnfanficpond]

New Member Spotlight July 2024

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family and a little info about them!

GIF by akaribaby

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

RainyThursdayNight

Tumblr handle: @rainythursdaynight

AO3: miss_bored_tf_outta_her_mind

What is your SPN OTP? Dean/Castiel

Are you in any other fandoms? The Umbrella Academy, She-Ra, Attack on Titan, The Legend of Korra, Avatar the Last Airbender, The Owl House, MCU, Harry Potter, Detroit Become Human, The Walking Dead (Telltale), etc.

What are you looking for in the Pond? A place to write alongside others/learn from other SPN writers/jump into writing for SPN with other authors and readers from the fandom!

What types/pairings do you like to read? Dean/Castiel, Castiel/Meg, Sam/Eileen, Dean/Jo, Sam/Jessica, Sam/Rowena/Gabriel, Claire/Kaia

What genres do you like to read? What are your favorite tropes Hurt/Comfort. Angst with a happy ending, Pre-series/Stanford Era, Solo Hunters Dean and Cas, Found Family, Wrong Number AUs, Time Travel AUs

What kinds of fics do you like to write? Introspective Character Studies with plot, Time-Travel, Found Family, Crossovers, Secret Agent AUs, Media Inspired AUs, literally almost anything tbh

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? Writing for Supernatural is completely new to me. I was part of a large-scale rewrite a while ago so I've rewritten episodes of the show but never really a fic, so having you guys be exposed to my writing first before I post it would be really nice. Having people who've read similar stories reading mine before I give it to the general public is the goal!

AylaCaveBear

What is your Tumblr name? @aylacavebear

What is your SPN OTP? Sam and Eileen, or Sam and Jessica

Are you in any other fandoms? Dabbles in Vampire Diaries

What are you looking for in the Pond? Interacting with others who share the same interests, i.e. Others who enjoy SPN fanfics, reading and/or writing. Learning more about navigating Tumblr better and enhancing my writing, as well as helping others if I can.

BOOST: Honestly, I'd like to promote my sister. She made something for me to promote my tumblr on youtube. (I'm not looking for subscribers or views. She's just amazing at what she does and thought there might be other users who might be interested in what she offers.)

What type/pairings do you like to read? Reader Inserts mostly, A/B/O dynamics, Dean x Reader/You and even some Sam x Reader/You.

What genres/tropes do you like to read? All of them honestly. I have to say though, Smut with Fluff and Angst are my absolute favorites. I also love a good plot twist.

Do you have a favorite Fanfic writer? I can't say I have one favorite. There are so many amazing authors on there. @holylulusworld has some amazing A/B/O fics, as well as many others. I've sort of been binge-reading them at the time of answering these, lol.

What kinds of fics do you like to write? I love to write fics that are Dean x Reader/You. The "reader" is typically also an OC and they typically have some bizarre 1-in-a-million trait. I love writing series with lots of parts and typically have a slow burn filled with fluff, angst, and all sorts of fun little things.

Tumblr Master List

Your most underappreciated fic!

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? I have three, lol - A/B/O, Choose Your Own Adventure (already have a plan in mind), Cas x Reader (as per a request on a one-shot I wrote asking for more and I'd love to write it).I'm not entire sure about help with any of these, as I have others I need to finish before I can even start on these.

TheCatSaysMew

What is your Tumblr name? @thecatsaysmew

What are you looking for in the Pond? I've been writing Supernatural fics for over a decade, but it has been mainly for myself so I don't publicly publish them. I absolutely love writing fics and doing character studies, and I really like reading them on Tumblr too. I was hoping to connect with the community, make some friends, get inspired to write more and also inspire others.

What pairings/type do you like to read? I'm a reader-insert girlie through and through. I usually go for the Dean x Reader fics!

What genres/tropes do you like to read? Angst. I sometimes read smut, but I find angst far more delicious than smut!

Do you have a favorite Fanfic writer? All my fic reading is mainly done on Tumblr. I feel like I've read every Dean x Reader fic on the platform, so I'm always excited when new ones pop up. I love reading stuff from @avanatural, @mind-empty-just-fictional-people and @wearywinchester among many others!

What kinds of fics do you like to write? Reader/Self-insert, angst, mixed in with a little soulmate trope

I don't have a masterlist as I don't usually post stuff publicly, but I did rewrite a theme from my current longfic to take part in a writing challenge.

Your most underappreciated fic!

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? A casefic. I actually want to incorporate it in the final part of my longfic, and I really want to get the early seasons aesthetic on point. It's so difficult to verbally describe something that we're so used to seeing visually: the gloomy shots, the dingy motels, the impala parked in front of a small town home in the rain, etc. It would be lovely to discuss on how to best write visual / cinematographic descriptions like that! Also, I'm not very good at detective-style writing, so I'm finding it quite the challenge to write a 'solve a case and defeat the monster of the week' fic.

CrowleysMistress

Crowleysmistress (ao3 not on tumblr)

Discord: Sacha04534

What is your SPN OTP? Sam/Lucifer (I mean not like shipping them but it’s all I write even if in a non-con way)

What are you looking for in the Pond? Other SPN fans - particularly angsty Sam ones

BOOST: I have a a witchcraft podcast called The Brujas Broadcast

Fic types, tropes, pairings, genres: I skip slow burn, super long ones, all reader insert, most OC, all crossover. (I like) Angst for sure, AU, adventure, smut and fluff some days depending on mood.

Do you have a favorite Fanfic writer? So my (AO3) history says I like ultimatefandomtrash, angelszn,

What kinds of fics do you like to write? Sam/Lucifer

AO3 Master List

Your most underappreciated fic!

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? A long multi chapter piece. I feel like I need to have it all done and ready to post together and not be working on something and just post pieces of it.

xPurdyGlambertx

Tumblr: @xpurdyglambertx (on all socials), including Discord and Wattpad

What is your SPN OTP? Too many - multishipper

Are you in any other fandoms? TWD, Stranger Things... those are the big ones

Pairings, genres, tropes, fic types: Ships and poly both, Mostly smut and angst

What kinds of fics do you like to write? Smut and angst, mostly oneshots but I'll pump out a multichaper fic every now and then!

Tumblr Master List

Your most underappreciated fic!

LucasBarr

Tumblr: @lucasbarr

AO3: Ophelia_Yvette

What is your SPN OTP? Dean/Cassie or Dean/Benny

Are you in any other fandoms? Mermaid Melody and Harry Potter!

What are you looking for in the Pond? fellow writers! People to talk about fic with and to help with fic writing (bc spelling is my nemesis lol)

Pairings, tropes, genres, fic types: Dean pairings for sure 😂 I am a multi shipper at heart tho so I enjoy a lot of pairings (besides like reader inserts). Found Family, Angst, Fluff, AU

Do you have a favorite Fanfic writer? Basically any spn fic writer who writes about his Amazon daughter Emma or any of the female characters of SPN 😂

What kinds of fics do you like to write? Ones about the kids of SPN like Jody’s girls, Kaia, the Freaks and Greeks gang, Ben, and Dean’s Amazon daughter Emma 😂

AO3 Master List

Your most underappreciated fic!

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? I want to get better at writing Sam and generally capturing the atmosphere of the early seasons in a fic (if that makes sense?)

Meryl1988

Tumblr: @meryl1988

AO3: Meryl1956

What is your SPN OTP? Well: I'm going to be honest here. You may feel free to kick me out Castiel/Dean. Sam/Dean. Love both equally.

Are you in any other fandoms? Starting 911

What are you looking for in the Pond? I am in complete awe of the wonderful writers of son fiction. If I can provide any support or good for thought, I would feel honored.

Pairings, genres, tropes, types of fic: Castiel/Dean. Sam/Dean. Castiel/Dean/Sam. Dean/Benny. Sam/Jessica. even though I am a total m/m reader. I love fics where she's alive and posseses a good personality. Every single one. I love stripper tropes, enemies to lovers, any AU with my boys. Hooker fiction. Poor/Privileged pairings. I also love Omega verse and Mpreg. Also RPF

Do you have a favorite Fanfic writer? This HARD! There are many but I will list a few @Felisblanco @Justinedelarge @friendofcarlotta On A03 Dollyluxe Nyxocity. Tumblr Flesflutter. Tumblr Hellhoundsprey Morgan Sunglasses Spn_kinksock Lukinha_jesus Compo67 taymarpigeon Applecrumbledore Ashtraytheif Castielslostwings Castiel_left_his_mark_on_me Amypond45 Rivkat Boydean Komodobits Naughtypastrychef Lovethemwinchesters Abs_cats Smackthedevil Chaotictrinity Anyrei. Queerwolf. Co authors Dmarie92

Sardonic-The-Writer

Tumblr: @sardonic-the-writer (and on AO3)

What is your SPN OTP? destiel, but i'm extremely partial to sabriel and crowstiel

Are you in any other fandoms? mainly spn right now, but i also love the umbrella academy and the gorillaz

What are you looking for in the Pond? mostly just to insert myself into the spn fandom space more, as well as find a safe space to share fanfics and stuff

Pairings, genres, types of fic, tropes: mostly reader inserts, but a solid ship fic of literally anyone is also good. pretty much anything genre wise, as long as i have a fun read. some of my favorite tropes would have to be friends to lovers, or just straight up a reader inserts where there's no romance and just them working a case alongside the guys. it appeals to me as an aroace guys

Do you have a favorite Fanfic writer? unsure, but i really enjoy gabriellives, The_White_Rabbit_42, and relic_amaranth's works all over on ao3

What kinds of fics do you like to write? reader inserts! mostly platonic, but i try romance sometimes. i also write a lot about my spn sona ezra (azrael) but that's mostly for me and the few people that know about him

Tumblr Master List

Your most underappreciated fic!

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? i haven't written a ton of ship content before, but i know that if i want to i will!

Codepend

Tumblr: @codepend

AO3: theknife

What is your SPN OTP? sam & dean

Are you in any other fandoms? good omens, hannibal

What are you looking for in the Pond? share my fanfics and make friends!

Pairings, genres, fic types, tropes: ships, angst, fluff, pining, unrequited

What kinds of fics do you like to write? one shots although I am working on larger projects

AO3 Master List

Your most underappreciated fic!

Is there something you have not written but would like to try? I find multi-chapter fics more overwhelming

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat @mrswhozeewhatsis @mariekoukie6661 @thoughtslikeaminefield and @heavenssexiestangel

[glygriffe]

Fanfics of the summer

I had a summer of long hours at work and short vacations with a lot of driving around. But I managed to get some fanfic reading in my busy schedule. Here are my favorite read of the season.

Supernatural

Why’s every song is about love (or drinking too much): a heart-aching ficlet by @quietwings-fics about unrequited love. (Sam & Castiel; Destiel)

Untitled ficlet: Claire and Dean have a talk at Rocky’s. A post-canon fic by @perlukafarinn

Murder's on the Table: a ficlet about a protective young Dean by @fictionallemons on A03. (Dean & Sam)

It’s the Stars that Lie: part 2 of the famed Down to Agincourt by @seperis on AO3. With well-written OC characters and beloved ones that discover themselves. To fully appreciate this fic, read the fever dream that is Map of the World first (Castiel x Dean)

He has no control of his body: an exploration of Sam's faith and lack of bodily autonomy from birth by @withthekeyisking-writer (fic form HozierNatural with wonderful art from @amberdreams1960 (No pairing - or with dubious consent with Lucifer, Meg, and Gadreel)

It's a living: What if Dean Winchester had some (most) of Dean Smith's characteristics and was in a Sugar Daddy relationship with an older single parent Castiel? A story on AO3 from a new player in the Spn fanfic sandbox, @farenmaddox (Dean x Castiel, Dean & Castiel & Jack)

Untitled print fic: what happens when Dean feels good! A ficlet on two part by @casdeans-pie (Dean x Castiel)

Mirage: What if Dean's dream life in What Is and What Should Never Be is the real life? A story by @dorkilysoulless on A03 (Sam & Mary)

Other fandoms and original works

The first in a series of removal: A touching Stranger Things ficlet by @loveinhawkins where Steve is not ready to talk about his mom. (Steve & Eddie)

And Love Tastes Like Ashes: The Last Centurion from Doctor Who meets Jack Harkness while waiting to reunite with the Girl who waited. A touching glimpse into Rory the Auton life by @farenmaddox on AO3 (Amy x Rory)

Midnight Rain: A conversation between the Doctor and Donna Nobles following the episode Midnight of Doctor Who by TheBlack Shadow1210 on A03 (No pairing)

Dragon prompt: a tale of a found (or maybe given) family by @hedgehogoftime from a prompt by @writing-prompt-s (no pairing)

Untitled (Numbers): an original story from @phantomrose96 about someone seeing in which order people that mingle in a room will die. (No pairing)

divider by mari (@strangergraphics)

[blindmagdalena]

Writer Tag

thanks for the tag @venus-haze and @sehtoast 🖤 technically i have two AO3 accounts (my og one with all my supernatural fics) but i'm just gonna use my homelander/the boys one for this.

How many works do you have on AO3? 31

What's your total AO3 word count? 225k

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Bit By Bit We Fall In Love

First Time's the Charm

Say It

Eat Your Ego, Honey

Truly, Madly, Deeply

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes! although i didn't used to for some reason. lately my feeling is that they took the time to comment, so i always try to take the time to show appreciation for that.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? definitely A Troublesome Transition. i don't really do angst or character death all that often, but this one was cathartic to write.

What’s the fic you've written with the happiest ending? lol pretty much all of my fics have pretty happy endings. maybe Don't Fret Precious ( I'm Here ) ? it's a darker fic that definitely had the potential to be very angsty, but the reveal at the end and the devotion that these two lunatics have to one another is pretty sweet... maybe? LOL

Do you write crossovers? nah

Have you ever received hate on a fic? i got one "wtf is this" type comment on a fic on tumblr once, but i was pretty quick to block the person. i think mostly people are just surprised Homelander has the fandom he does

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. very much so. pretty much any kind. i feel like i'm fairly well known for schmoopy sentimental sex and dirty talk though

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated? yes! Hide and Seek was translated into spanish.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? sort of! All That Glitters was a fic collab with @anon-nee, for which they were absolutely instrumental in the worldbuilding and keeping me motivated to keep writing. huge shoutouts to @jethrowest and @irenadel and everyone who consistently lets me blow up their dm's with my wips and helps me when i'm struggling to put words on the page. 🖤

What's your all-time favorite ship? homelander x all these incredibly sexy oc's my friends make

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Puppet Master. i had really big plans for this one, but unfortunately it got lost in the shuffle and i've since repurposed the ideas i had for it.

What are your writing strengths? i think my strengths are characterization and keeping the world feeling grounded/true to the source material.

What are your writing weaknesses? i have a lot of insecurities about my fics being boring or not eventful enough. a lot of the times i focus so much on interpersonal relationships, i don't think there's really enough happening in the story. i'm also bad at bringing in ensemble casts. my fics definitely focus very heavily on just the two leads.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i tend to avoid it unless it's very simple established pet names/phrases or something. i use italics and descriptors if they're not speaking in english. if the POV character isn't meant to understand, i'll just describe how the characters are speaking to one another in that language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? yu yu hakusho on quizilla LOL i was a HUGE weeb. also wrote for inuyasha.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to kimiko/annie..... they deserve each other......

What's your favorite fic you've written? probably Eat Your Ego, Honey. it's my first multichapter fic, and i'm DETERMINED to finish it. i really love Layla, and i'm so touched by how everyone has responded to her. oc's can be a bit of a sore spot for me, but the reception to that fic really keeps me going and makes me so, so happy. plus i just think it's some of my best writing.

No pressure tags: @xieyaohuan @socially-awkward-skeleton @hom3landr @kosmochlor @irenadel @amostimprobabledream uhhh anyone who has an AO3 okay if you wanna fill this out just say i tagged you lol

[griseldabanks]

20 Questions for the Writer

Tagged by @rainintheevening

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

131

2. What is your total Ao3 word count?

822,681

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Captain America/MCU and FMA these days, but I also have fics on AO3 for Daredevil, Dororo, Star Wars, Supernatural, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Make Me Whole (Captain America), Back from the Brink (Dororo), of skulls and secrets (FMA), Shards of Me (Captain America), and Your Arms Feel Like Home (Captain America)

Still boggles my mind every time I realize my second-most kudoed fic is the random Dororo fic I wrote for a Christmas present one year @_@

5. Do you respond to comments?

I make a point to reply to every comment I can! ^_^ I just really want to share my stories with other people and talk to them about them!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm...of the ones posted on AO3, I'm not sure. Maybe "Rejected?" It's an FMA fic where Ed gives up his life to bring Al's body back, so that's pretty angsty ^^'

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty hard to beat the ending of Make Me Whole ;) Reunions of old friends, heartfelt confessions, sobbing on each other's shoulders, followed by an overjoyed birthday celebration! The "epilogue" of sorts of Shards of Me might be even happier, though, because you get to see how good things turn out for them a few years down the road <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I have on AO3. I did very occasionally on FFNet (mostly from one particularly weird guy who had other issues besides the quality of my fics).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I love the kind of crossover where, rather than characters from different stories meeting each other, you just replace the characters from one story with the characters from another. My most recent, a FMA/Firefly crossover, is coming to mind - FMA characters replace the Firefly characters and go through the same basic plot as the first episode of Firefly. Another one I'm really proud of is "All We've Got to the End of the Line," where I put the Elric brothers in Steve and Bucky's position, and vice versa.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Years ago, there was one fic of mine that got translated into Spanish, I think.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, though unfortunately most of the co-written fics I've worked on have not gotten finished before the relationship fell apart :/

But a huge shout-out to @sergeanttomycaptain, who helped me brainstorm my Whole Shards series and even wrote large chunks of it herself, though she's not "officially" a co-writer.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

My longest running OTP is Royai <3 I'll always love them and what the understated subtlety of their relationship has taught me. A very honorable mention goes to Staron - though admittedly, a lot of the stuff I love most is stuff I had to come up with myself because of how the canon ruined Sharon's character -_-

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Years ago, I started writing a Haibane Renmei fic with a full cast of OCs, just because I wanted to explore that world more and try my hand at writing a story even halfway as uplifting and wholesome as that. Unfortunately, there was never really any plot to speak of, so while I really like the characters I came up with, I have no idea where to go with it, and probably never will because I have too many stories to write that I do know what I want to do with. Alas, Kabe the Sin-Bound Haibane will probably be consigned to the dust forever.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at writing endings, and judging from people's reactions, I'm pretty good at making people cry! But like...in a healing/comforting sort of way. I also think I have the strength of tenacity (or stubbornness, if you'd rather), to finish what I set out to do even if it takes a really long time.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fights/action scenes. Intentional humor. Differentiating dialogue/thoughts so it really sounds like the character.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm always paranoid about doing that, even if I have a decent enough grasp of the language that I'm completely sure I know what they're saying ^^' But then, I'm the kind of person who will write something in English, my native tongue, and then second-guess whether that's actually the way to say it or whether I sound like an idiot. I'm trying to loosen up about such things, though, because more diversity in a fic makes it more fun.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Final Fantasy X. I started writing a novelization of the game before I even knew what I was doing was fanfiction!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Ohhhh, that's really hard to narrow down. But one of the fics that's nearest and dearest to my heart is the fic I'm currently in the process of posting, Take Me In. Please consider reading it if you like Captain America!

Tagging @dairogo, @x-i-l-verify, and @x-rainflame-x if you'd like to do this!

[lady-lostmind]

Steddie Big Bang Wrap Up!

Now that all of the @steddiebang projects I was involved in are wrapping up I just want to make a post for all of them. My fic: And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife is finally finished! It's officially the longest thing I've ever written and I'm really proud of it.

Explicit | 138,192 | 50/50 chapters

Author/Artist: @lady-lostmind Artist: @fancycheliniarts | Art | Art Beta: @oh-stars | Art Summary: Steve and Eddie get very close after the world almost ends. Eddie makes a move and it quickly backfires when Steve pulls away. Eddie, not knowing how to deal with the rejection, runs. They live completely separate lives for years until Steve realizes maybe he's not living the life he actually wants, and throws himself back into Eddie's world. Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Miscommunication, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Addiction, Infertility, Infidelity, Not Nancy Wheeler Friendly, Happy Ending Guaranteed  My Art:

Fics I drew art for: From Hell And Back

Explicit | 165,361 | 30/30 chapters

Author: @rindecision   Artists: @lady-lostmind | Art @feralsteddie | Art Cheerleader: @atmilliways Beta: Anonymous Summary: One Halloween, years after the fall of Hawkins, Steve and Robin end up summoning Eddie from the depths of Hell. Steve, not knowing the ways of the occult, accidentally frees him and has to deal with a mischievous demon on the loose. Eddie drives Steve insane with various shapeshifting antics, both in and out of the bedroom, while Robin tries to find a way to send him back to hell. But, when faced with the opportunity to return his life to normal, will Steve even want to go through with it? OR Lots of supernatural, hentai-esque smut with a playful, romantic plot.Pairings: Steddie | Background Robin/Vickie Characters: Eddie |Steve | Robin | Vickie | Female OC Tags: Demon Eddie Munson, Post-Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, Shapeshifting, Fluff, Crack, Humor, Size Difference, Eventual Romance, Mutual Pining, Steve Bisexual Awakening, Comical misunderstandings, Pocket-sized Eddie, Monsterfucking,Tentacles, These Bitches be Switches, Unrequited Love My Art:

memoria (come as you are)

Mature | 2/8 chapters

Artist: @lady-lostmind | Art Beta: @glaftwlet

Summary: It's January 1996 and Steve has recently moved to Pennsylvania for a new job as a children's librarian. Urged to do something with his evenings by Robin, he goes to a bar around the corner from his apartment and sees someone who looks an awful like Eddie Munson playing his guitar. Only no one has seen Eddie in almost ten years. Eddie Munson, whilst on the brink of death, was not so gently urged into the supernatural department of the United States Federal Witness Protection Program. The time he was in the program, he was stripped of everything he had and thought he knew, and was forced to become someone entirely new. He’s still trying to figure out who that person is. It’s been almost ten years, and in that time the only thing he has learned is that he is okay with being alone. He has to be. Otherwise known as, a story about finding the people you’ve lost, healing rifts (the personal kind, not the supernatural kind) and maybe for once, finally, falling in love. Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Nancy Wheeler/Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Eddie Munson & Dustin Henderson Tags: Alternate Universe — Canon Divergence, 1990s, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson in Witness Protection, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

My Art:

[wyked-ao3]

Q/A

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 38

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 660k words so far

3. What fandoms do you write for? Supernatural, Hannibal, Fantastic beast.......... so far with hopes to expand into about twenty or so other fandoms..but supernatural is my hyper focus right now

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? I'm going to list six due to one is only high due to a bot hitting it with 57 kudos and that would be #1 "alternative ending to blood doesn't end in family with 66 kudos" #2 is sometimes angel's need to learn when to shut up with 56 kudo's #3 newt is clueless with 48 kudos #4 newt was impulsive 41 kudos #5 dragon rider 32 kudos and #6 is Will falls in love with Hannibal in ten scenes 31 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Always although I'm shy I tend to probably talk to much due to that..so sorry if I'm annoying it's the nerves

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The cliff I regret everything about that one

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Do I have to pick? I write a lot of happy endings I hate sad

8. Do you get hate on fics? No but I am open to feedback be it good or bad

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes I do wrote it although I am not comfortable writing it i would rather hint at or imply at it than write it but I have posted smut

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Yes I have only posted one so far ....not particularly happy with it but it's out there......my next one will be better and less oc involved

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No...I have not

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No I have beta read a few but not co-written although I am open to it

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? That requires me to pick a fandom longer than a few days....no I have several ships all of which I adore

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? The first original story I was working on that I deleted everything too a while back (over a year ago) ....I liked it but had to many flaws and needed redone.... slightly regret it but it is what it is

16. What are your writing strengths? Creativity and ability to jump plot to plot

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Punctuation and self doubt

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I have used endearments from other languages and will be adding cussing to it soon... but full sentences not likely as I would worry I would offend someone

19. First fandom you wrote for? Fantastic beast

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? That's hard....I think Fang's would win that but I also love feather's and candy

blank for copy and paste below

How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

tag people you want to ask

@adhdprincess @gods-graveyard @theneverwriter @lillybaaaka @wolfgiselle

[jo-harrington]

Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story? But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway. **So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” ― Voltaire

November 10, 1986

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."

"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."

"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."

"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."

Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.

Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.

Let you.

Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.

But somehow also separately from you.

And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.

Together.

But not really.

If there was anything left of you.

It wouldn't do to think of that today though.

Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.

It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.

It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.

You didn’t dare go up yourself though.

Not yet.

Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,

“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”

Because you were not ok.

You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.

If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.

An impossible request.

The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.

“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”

You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.

“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.

Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.

All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.

And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.

Well, not doom.

Fate.

Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.

Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.

With Nonna.

With Eddie.

So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...

You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.

Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.

"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.

"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.

"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.

You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.

There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.

Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.

And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?

"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.

"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."

"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.

"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"

"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."

The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.

"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."

You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.

The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.

You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.

"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."

Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.

Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.

The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.

But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.

You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.

"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.

The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.

"Tomorrow..."

November 6, 1983

Twang.

He enjoyed it.

Twang.

Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.

Twang.

Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.

He wasn't Eddie anymore though.

So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.

"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."

He never gave in though.

Could never give in.

It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.

And it was enough. It had to be enough.

Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.

"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."

He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.

Twang.

He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.

He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.

He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.

You might very well be his downfall one day.

And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.

He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.

For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.

Until everything started to shake.

The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.

There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.

Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.

Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?

Eddie didn't hesitate.

He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.

To get away from you as quickly as he could.

You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.

“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

[cr-noble-writes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

oooo this is a hard one ngl. Partly because I have a *lot* of posted fic that I really love, but also because I have a *lot* of fic I haven't posted yet that already qualifies as favorites lol

I guess I shall start at the beginning, and go from there

Falling Apart

Supernatural, Destiel, rated T

This is the longest complete fic I've ever written. It was my first ever bang fic, and probably the first time I ever actually wrote multiple drafts before publishing a thing. My writing style has changed dramatically since I wrote it, and when I read it now, I can see all the ways I could improve it, but its still one of my favorites, because it was the first time I finished a story, looked at it, and was like "this is my baby."

Lust

Supernatural, Michael/Crowley, rated E

This one is a favorite because I just had a lot of fun writing it. It's kinda fucked up and kinda wholesome and it was just a blast to create. It's also a favorite because it came with some incredibly dope pinch hit art by @slytherkins (which you can find here, because I think I embedded the art with discord links that no longer work).

You Should See Me In A Crown

Supernatural, Destiel, rated E

This one is a also a favorite just because it was so fun to write. I really embraced the action movie aesthetic for it, and just kind of let go of needing things to make real world sense, and as a result I had such a good time. Also because it was fun to write a fic where I used real places that I've actually been, because now every time I go to those places I'm going to think about this awesome story I wrote on top of the cool memories I have there from real life :D

Vicissitude

Mass Effect, mShep/Coats, rated M

This literally just may actually be the best thing I've ever written tbf. I got to explore telling someone's story in a way that I'd never tried before, and I loved it! Also, I might be a little biased because I am actually full obsessed with my own OC lol

Growing Pains

Mass Effect, rated G

This one is a favorite because it was the writing of this fic that made Alex Shepard who he has ended up being. I had written like 40k of ME1 timeline stuff for him, and realized that I didn't actually know enough about him to keep writing, so I went back to the relative beginning, and he's become a much more complex character since then.

Thank you so much for the ask! I am always happy to self rec lol