#wish all my romantic feelings would stay dead stay in the ground

[oceansabove]

augh the power of seeing specific people out and about to unsettle me is simply unfair

[metanoiahh]

Get off my back - Daryl Dixon

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚꩜ ➴

Summary: A great fascination for the youngest Dixon took over you ever since the Quarry. Daryl notices and in fear of reciprocating your feelings, he continuously pushes you away. After Andrea shoots him, you don’t leave his side with the excuse of keeping an eye on him.

Warnings: Implied age gap (reader early 20s, Daryl late 30s) Fem!reader, Usual TWD gore, mentions of injuries, angst, yelling, mean!Daryl, failed-ish attempts of comfort, slightly medically skilled!reader, cigarettes, Daryl being a little too abrasive.

Era(s): Quarry, Greene farm.

Word count: 1.7k

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚꩜ ➴

Your eyes were trained on him the second you got to the group. As days went by, he seemed to have cast a spell on you, hypnotised you with something only he had. You saw beyond his mean persona, his rugged ways only making his vulnerability shine through. How you treated him didn't go unnoticed, not by him, certainly not by the rest. Always ensuring he had everything he could use before leaving for a hunt, sparing him extra food because 'He needed the extra energy', even small insignificant details like leaving his folded clothes at his tent door were starting to get to him. He felt like you could read him better than he could himself, which made him want to hate you.

Daryl kept everyone at a distance, but you were kept even farther. It bothered you and occupied your thoughts like a plague, you were practically living with the sole purpose of showing him he was worth everything you'd ever do and more. He had pulled something within you, although it was beyond your comprehension, you let your instincts and desire take you over. You were anything but pushy, you didn't try to force yourself onto his life, content with giving and not receiving even a glance your way in return. The archer hated that he couldn't bring himself to hate you.

In a fucked up world where the dead roamed, injuring oneself with the simple task of carrying firewood seemed flat-out stupid. Angry mumbles escaped the man as the log fell with a thud. "Goddamnit." Your eyes lifted from your task of shaping branches as stakes, at the sound of Daryl's grumbles. Blood dripped down to the ground as the blue-eyed man fixated on his newly obtained cut.

"Sit." You pointed to the nearest makeshift seat, marching your way inside your tent to look for your precarious medical supplies. "Wha' " He growled, squinted eyes now settled in your back, as he obeyed your command.

"You heard me." You replied in a quiet mumble, carrying alcohol, iodine, and bandages in one hand. You accommodated yourself on the ground at his feet, hands grasping his injured one in one swift but gentle motion. "Won't need stitches." You assured. Worried demeanor showed through your actions and on this occasion, he couldn't look away.

His stare changed from your face to your working consistently, as you finished wrapping the bandage expertly he looked at you through his eyebrows. "Ya' a doctor 'fore all this?"

A nostalgic smile crept up your face, usually content eyes now clouding with sadness. At your change of aura, he wished he could take back the question, even if he didn't understand what was wrong in his doing. "Sorry." He spoke barely above a whisper, raspy voice making him nearly unintelligible

"Third year of med-school. 'bout to start my fourth." He nodded, now wrapping his mind around your medical knowledge, you did look too young to be a doctor.

After that evening he stayed even further from you, which you didn't think possible. Still, you abstained from offering to look after his wound, knowing he was capable of doing that himself, and knew it would bother him to have the obligation of holding a conversation with you every day. The archer hated that you knew all that, proving his point of you being able to read him like your favourite goddamn romantic novel. If his mind stayed too much upon it, he would drive himself insane.

The next few weeks were hectic, in a matter of days you were already starting to get settled in a new location, a family farm that was lending you the place till the shot kid, Carl, healed and the lost kid, Sophia, whom Daryl frantically looked for, resurfaced from god knows where.

You paced around camp, Daryl had left earlier that morning and while that wasn't odd, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was. "He's fine." Carol smiled at you, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder. Your brows furrowed, answering your own silent question as to how she knew what was on your mind. Being sly was never your strength.

"I know." You smiled, rubbing her back up and down in a reciprocation of her action. You admired how she stood strongly, after the death of her asshole husband and the disappearance of her daughter, she had survivor written all over her face. The calm atmosphere faded at the series of unfortunate events that continued to unfold before you. A shot, screaming and a bloody, limp archer being carried inside the house.

As Hershel worked on the wound at his torso, which you were relieved to know was not a walker bite, you got your hands on the bullet graze at the side of his head. The youngest Dixon would be fine, back on his feet in a few days time, that didn't wash away your anger at the blonde now standing behind you. "Oh my god, he's going to be fine, right?" Andrea questioned for the billionth time.

Your eyes travelled back to her. "You won't be if you don't shut your mouth." Attention back on your stitching, you mumbled an unintelligible cuss, anger practically bubbling out of you.

That night you slept curled up in a chair next to his sleeping form. He had woken up multiple times, only having the strength to look around the room and then doze off once again. You kept constantly waking up to check for a fever, maybe a broken stitch, anything putting his life at stake, your mind could not rest easy. Andrea had apologised to him and even to you, but you brushed her off, too angry to hold a conversation on the topic still.

The idea of not having the archer around made your heart sink. His rough hands that you ached to hold, blue eyes that got smaller the brighter his surroundings got, the unsympathetic yet very empathic personality that made him so fucking special, and his fear of being loved which pulled you close to him. Losing Daryl Dixon would've made you wish you stayed at the CDC. That would've been the day when you wouldn't be grateful at Doctor Jenner for giving you a shot at life.

"You need to stay in bed!" Exasperated, you grabbed both of the brunette's shoulders, pushing him down on the bed. The morning of the second day after his accident, Daryl wanted to get back on his normal doings. He glared at you sideways, the corner of his mouth lifting up before he spat out the words.

"Get off my back, bitch. Don’ need ya’ pesterin’ me like you’re ma’ goddamn babysitter.” He pushed you off him with a strength he couldn't seem to control under his rage spell.  The volume of his voice grew louder by the second. “Always ´round ‘ere. Big brown eyes starin’ like I’m bein’ exhibited. I ain’t your pet. Sure as hell ain't your boyfriend.” Now on his feet, he held the bedsheets to his torso as he looked over the room for his clothes.

You stared at him, not a sign of emotion on your features, though you wished you could yell back, maybe even shed a tear or two, but you knew it would be uncalled for. Same way everything you had been doing was.

You extended your hand holding a pile of folded clothes, his folded clothes. The brunette snatched them from your grip without care, launching them onto the mattress behind him.

His body caged yours, one of his hands gripped your forearm as you were backed up into a wall. Your free hand went to rest against his bare chest, no pressure inflicted nonetheless. “Dar..” You whispered, chin pointing towards the ceiling to look into his eyes. 

“Don’ call me that like I’m your friend. Ya’ could be gone tomorrow ‘n I wouldn’t give a goddamn shit.” His grip tightened as his face inched closer to your own, so much his breath fanned over the tip of your nose. "Yer so desperate t'be loved it shows how ya never have been before, but I don't do charity, so go bother somebody else and leave me the hell alone!."

He stood like that for half a minute, keeping you in place with his hand clutching your skin tight, though his grip fell the second he noticed a hint of pain in your eyes, though you weren't sure if it was for his grip or his words, implying you weren't worthy of anything. Making you feel small. He pushed himself off you, taking a good few steps back. "Get the hell outta 'ere." He yelled, pointing with his uninjured side to the, hopefully empty, hall behind the bedroom door.

You had vanished. Completely erased yourself from existence for the rest of the day. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes you had kept after your last run, a lighter, and climbed up the tree furthest away from everyone. You sat on the wide branch with your knees to your chest, the stilled bike belonging to the man you had pestered all this time staring right back at you, yelling the same words he had hours ago. He was right, couldn´t argue against anything he said, as much as it hurt, it was the truth.

You were down to the last two tobacco sticks, an unlit one being hugged by your reddened lips from all the nervous biting. "Hard as shit lookin' for ya in this state." His grumble woke you up from your daydreaming, eyes landing right on his as you brought the fire to your cigarette. "Wha's doctor doin' with a smoke? Don' tha' kill you?" He tried to joke around after being met with radio silence on your part. Attempting to rip something out of you.

A small smile formed on your lips, shrugging. "Gonna die sooner or later." You weren´t big on it, but ever since you were sixteen cigarettes were a habit of you that was embarrassingly hard to let go of. His head was at level with your legs, you weren´t too far up and he didn't lack height. Hence why he easily reached for the last cigarette and the red lighter beside you, lighting it up swiftly.

" 'm sorry." He whispered. The view you had was one you wanted carved onto your skin. The sun setting behind the archer, his dirty blond hair being lit up by the orange beaming from the large figure. Cigarette between his lips, as well as your own, and a shy hand, going to rest on your calf in an awkward comfort-inducing mannerism he wasn´t too experienced with.

" 's fine." You smiled, hand enveloping his. "i'll get off your back."

"Don'. I like ya' pesterin' me."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚꩜ ➴

i kinda hate it but i got it done lol

Anyway, my requests are open! please leave me anything you'd want to read and with no promised deadline I'll get it done :)

[t3a-tan]

Romantic and Hopeless (10/?)

First / Previous / Next

---

The light was back again, dancing along Tanner’s ashen skin tauntingly. He was different than he remembered; the tips of his fingers black as if they had been dipped in charcoal, but no matter what he did it wouldn't rub off. He was pale, and cold, and what had started as hunger in the first days of him being in this abyss was now a profound sense of emptiness that spread throughout his entire body.

It didn't hurt anymore. When the light wasn't there he felt like he was just a part of the void; mindlessly existing, fading away. He would forget who he was at times only for his memories to trickle in whenever the name ‘Sammy’ escaped his dry lips.

She'll save me…from what?

Some part of him knew that he was dying, or perhaps already dead, but it had become hard to recall the difference now. He was growing to accept the darkness with each passing moment.

This time, however, the light was so close and enveloping his entire body, like a hand cradling him, lifting him out of the darkness. Tanner could almost imagine the weight it had, and he relaxed into the sensation, feeling those imaginary fingers curling over him and keeping the shadows away.

The buzzing of a light overhead; so familiar and yet so foreign; registered and made him jolt, his hands quickly rising to cover his ears. After hearing nothing besides his own breathing and slow heartbeat for what felt like years, even such a faint sound felt overwhelming. The light no longer felt warm and comforting, but just as cold and oppressive as the darkness had been.

The feeling of the ground at his feet and gravity over his body made him feel dizzy and disoriented, and he was sure if he had anything in his stomach it would have been thrown up by now. Curling into a fetal position, he shut his eyes and buried his head into the cold metal ground beneath him, trying desperately to shut out all the sensations that were suddenly coming at him from all sides.

There was no time to adjust and all he could do was wish the darkness would come back and claim him. Surely it was better than this?

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and pressed his hands harder against his ears, his body tense and feeling like it was about to explode as his breathing only became louder and more frequent. Go away! Leave me alone!

“Tanner?” The sound of his name being spoken aloud made his breathing hitch, but his body felt frozen, and he was too scared to open his eyes or move for fear of letting all of the noise and lights smother him again.

Too bright! Too much!!

Then suddenly…darkness.

Tanner stayed curled up with his eyes closed and hands over his ears for several more moments as his breathing calmed down. Once he was no longer on the verge of passing out from hyperventilation, he hesitantly blinked open his eyes.

It was dark, but not the same as before. This darkness had streaks of red light breaking it apart, but not enough that it felt oppressive. The sounds that had once been overloading his senses were muffled and distant… Tanner reached towards the red light only to flinch back and yelp as his shaky hands actually met skin.

Hands. He remembered this. There were two hands cupped over him like a dome of safety from the light and buzzing.

“My gods…he's alive..? How is that possible…?” He heard a voice murmuring softly overhead, muffled. It too felt familiar, and a name immediately came to Tanner's mind.

Ryker..?

He cried out in surprise when the hands surrounding him from above suddenly moved inwards, cupping him into them whilst thankfully remaining closed. He felt dizzy all over again when he felt his body being lifted up.

Soon enough the hands shifted. Now he was only held in one, and was being pressed against a soft material. A heartbeat registered to his ears; much louder and steadier than his own, but still somehow calming. He felt warm, and the thought of ever being separated from that warmth again made him want to cry. He clung to it, breathing slowly as he felt the swaying motion of the doctor walking.

There was a faint clicking sound, and the buzzing disappeared as well as the red streaks of light. Tanner whimpered, clinging to the soft material he was pressed against tighter; a reminder that he was not trapped in the abyss again.

He heard and felt footsteps below, accompanied by the same disorienting swaying motion… Metal scraped, clothing rustled… then the hand he was in began to pull away.

Tanner's eyes widened, and he quickly shut his eyes and covered his ears again in preparation for the incoming overload.

“Shh…it's alright, Tanner. I turned off the lights. Take some deep breaths.” The doctor's voice was composed and clinical, just as he remembered. He tried his best to follow his directions as always, but he wasn't quite brave enough to open his eyes yet. What if he's lying..?

“Why should I lie? Use your critical thinking skills. What would I gain from doing such a thing right now?” There was a hint of irritation in his firm words, but it switched to concern quickly after. “Are you aware you're speaking out loud?”

Tanner bristled. He really couldn't tell the difference. He put a hand over his mouth slowly, feeling his jaw and his lips so that he could keep those physical sensations in mind. It was weird, having to remind himself that he was in his own body. His mind felt like it was elsewhere completely.

He opened his eyes slowly, holding his breath as he did. True to Ryker's words, the lights were off aside from a faint blue glow from a monitor behind him. Ryker was mostly in shadow, but his eyes were reflecting the light from the monitor as he stared down at Tanner.

Tanner trembled as he met his gaze, memories flooding back to him like a dam had burst. The fog that had settled around his mind wasn't gone, leaving the memories feeling more like distant nightmares…but they were still sharp and invasive.

Ryker's lips pressed together into a frown as he watched the boy's reaction. It was to be expected; for years he had represented nothing but suffering for the children, and for years he had been able to push away the guilt until he was alone.

Yet now, looking down at Tanner’s state and seeing what he had done to the boy so clearly…the guilt felt so visceral it was hard to control. Whatever had happened whilst Tanner was missing it hadn't been good…and whatever happened he was responsible. It was his fault.

The boy's eyes were completely black and lifeless. He looked almost like a corpse… he had been afraid that’s what he found at first before he started crying and shouting about how bright it was. Where was he? I've never seen something like this in all of my years…

The scientific side of him wanted desperately to know more. If he was truly devoid of any sense of care and empathy as he had tried to convince himself he was, then he would have thrown Tanner under a microscope immediately to figure out what had happened. He should be dead.

Is this artificial immortality? Something else?

He shook away those thoughts immediately, taking a breath to clear his mind.

No. This cannot continue. I will find Sammy and that will be it. No more of this… It's too much.

Ryker leaned down slightly, trying to soften his expression but finding it difficult after so long of purposely shutting that side of himself away. His brows furrowed, frown deepening as he observed the way Tanner shook under his gaze.

“You're safe now. I promise…” Just uttering those words made his chest hurt, the weight of his actions still pulling down on him. He felt doubt creeping in. Have I really tried everything? What if this is the solution? It's been so long, I can't just…give up.

“I'm so sorry, I…” Ryker lowered his head more, words catching in his throat. His shoulders tensed and he lowered his head so that it was facing straight downwards, his free hand coming up and covering his eyes. “I cannot be forgiven, but I am sorry… I am a monster…”

Tanner felt frozen as he watched the doctor break down in front of him. His face wasn't fully visible as it was covered by a hand, but he could tell by the tense and twitchiness of the hand behind him and the way his shoulders were shaking that the man was crying; if not, he was definitely about to.

Never before has he or Sammy seen Ryker cry. The only emotions Tanner had ever seen him express was anger or curiosity; and at all other times he was just…nothing. Cold. Authoritative. The way the doctor was behaving right now felt so…disconnected from what Tanner was used to. He couldn't make sense of it.

He hesitated, biting his lip to make sure he wasn't speaking out loud.

Does he…really mean it..?

Slowly, like a child approaching a wounded beast, Tanner shuffled quietly forward until he was just below the man's face. He tilted his head, trying to see between the small cracks in his giant fingers. Unable to spy much of anything in the dark, he walked back over to the hand that he had been sat in before and crouched down.

Sammy would pat my head or stroke my hand when I was upset or scared. It felt nice…

He reached forward, wavering for only a moment this time before he began to gently stroke his hand against the doctor's pointer finger. It twitched back in surprise which in turn made Tanner flinch…but once he realised nothing was snapping at him  he resumed his petting motion.

“T-there there… don't cry, doctor…” He echoed softly, reminiscent of the same soothing words that would come from his sister's mouth. He looked back up towards his giant face and saw that the reflective gaze of Ryker was now peeking through his fingers, watching Tanner.

The boy couldn't help but shudder instinctively under such scrutiny, but he didn't stop his comforting gesture. It felt nice for him too…the contact was a reminder that he was not alone.

“It'll be okay…” He continued with a small nod of agreement to himself. He looked down at the finger he was stroking again, watching his repetitive and soothing hand motions as if in a trance. He heard a muffled sob behind him, but it didn't break his concentration.

Ryker tried his best to stifle his weak emotions, though watching someone he had done nothing but cause pain to try to comfort him was making it difficult. He kept his hand as still as possible despite its shaking, staring down at the display of remarkable compassion with remorse.

I am no better than my enemies…

How many years had it been since he started this quest for revenge? How many people had he hurt and killed along the way? In the moment he kept trying to justify the means to the end…but the end result he was searching for never came, and all he had done was cause more suffering.

How many years since the war began? Since his imprisonment? Since his torture? He had lost track, truly… and along the way he had clearly forgotten who his research was supposed to save in the first place.

Tanner and Sammy had no one other than him that they could rely on. They were children, orphaned, and shorter than the length of any one of his fingers, and that was reason enough that they needed his protection.

He had been careful through the years they had been under his care not to cause too much physical harm. At first there had been a lot of bruising as he got used to handling people so small…and it made it much more difficult when they were constantly moving. He had perfected his technique over time and now injuries only occurred if he lost focus or if one of the children managed to injure themselves with some stunt.

He shut his eyes again, trying to regain some composure and focus. As much as he wanted to indulge in guilt and weakness and anger at himself, Sammy was still in danger. She was still in the hands of a human. He had to get her back before it was too late.

“Thank you, Tanner. You're…very kind…”

I will fix this for you. Both of you. I promise.

[jjmaysbaby]

EL TANGO DE ROXANNE

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Luke believes that somehow fate will bring you two together, but will other problems collide prevent it from coming true?

Warnings: small angst, unrequited love, pining, lovesick!luke, toxic relationship (not with luke), manipulative oc, tension, jealousy.

author's note: i know this not accurate to the pjo show or moulin rouge but be patient, it will all connect soon my darlings! this is my first actual fic! please lmk if there's any mistakes and your honest opinions on it.

one-sided love is one of the emotionally painful things a teenager can experience, but for demigods, it's nothing compared to the battles and quests they have to go through within their lives. though for luke castellan, he isn't currently facing any chimera or minotaur. the real monster for him is the one sat on the athena table, felix greenwood.

luke knew that annabeth was a daughter of athena, you could definitely tell by her hardworking strength but whenever he saw felix walk into cabin 6, it just didnt seem right. instead he would just vision a giant pit opening from the ground, fire and smoke erupting from it, and felix happily jumping in. it seems more fitting. luke watched as an aggravating smile came upon felix's face as his male siblings gloat over what has no importance to luke. however he notice felix's eyes occasionally observe one certain table in the distance, the ares table.

the children of ares are known to have feelings of anger, hatred, and bloodlust up to the point where they'd start physical fights. but you had always seemed guarded and tactile, whenever making a move or strategy during capture the flag, nobody would never know what you had done until somehow your already nearby the opponents flag. they never knew about the fiery rage boiling inside of you, bursting to get out.

however, everyone knew of your fondness towards felix, members of the camp adored and wished for a connection like yours. wherever you went, he was always within proximity. which for everyone else seemed charming, but luke truly doubted it.

luke felt cursed, not just by the gods, but for the predicament he's in. you have bewitched him in a way that no mystical creature ever can. he could even be dead in a grave, 6 feet below earth but he would still find a way to crawl back to you. luke admits that he is a romantic, believing that if your not with your true loved one for the rest of your life then what other purpose do you have than to lay down and accept the fate of death? he would destroy himself for you if it meant being in your loving gaze. but what he didn't know is that you were already crumbling due to the standards of your current love.

eating a cluster of cherries for breakfast, you look across at your siblings. you occasionally give input to the conversation, but words spoken by another repeat in your head.

"babe we didn't ask for you opinion, i love you but please just stay quiet for me."

you would always ignore his responses, at first they were subtle and not very often, but now it seems as if a censor inside of felix has now just unexpectedly been switched off. but after every argument or disagreement he would always come back, but only with gifts or manipulation, never a apology. somehow you would always be the blame or the reason. once, when you and him were sat along the sparkling lake together late at night, you asked him what it is that makes him love you.

"your hot and someone i can always talk about my problems too, i trust you."

if this is what love is supposed to feel like, you don't want it. people think love is something extraordinary, something that can last forever and withstand anything. but the love that you have with felix, it cracked and shattered ages ago, you just don't know where to run to.

you feel yourself getting disinterested with the conversation your siblings are having, and unconsciously gaze around. but something catches your eye, or rather someone. you feel as if your eyes are locked into places with his. while luke feels as if his heart has stopped beating, you feel as if you recognize him, brain muddled trying to pinpoint his face from your memory. maybe he's the new camp member everyone is talking about? you overheard that he was placed in the hermes cabin since he hadn't been claimed yet.

eyes still gazing into his, luke feels as if his face is on fire. chris clears his throat as he realizes that the conversation has suddenly became one sided, he then notices where luke's diverted attention has gone. a bright grin grows on chris's face as he aggressively nudges him in the arm.

"dude! oh my gods you have to go and speak to her! you've been waiting for this chance since like what- 3 years now!"

luke slowly nods while keeping eye contact with you, rising from his seat. he feels as if the gods have answered his prayer, everything moving in slow motion as his chance has finally landed in front of him. luke then hears the painful sound of a bell. he actually gets the temptation to grab you and pin you down, sat next to him so this opportunity doesn't dissappear. but we don't always get what we want. his mind can't actually tell if the crackling he hears is the sound of his heart aching even more as he notices felix striding over towards you or from the fire used for the offerings. surrendering, he makes his way over to the camps, chris giving a him sympathetic pat on the back.

you notice felix with egoistic look on his face making his way over to you, but with firmness, you walk straight past him. you can already tell he must have a dumbfounded look on his face based on the giggles and laughs you can hear from behind you, mostly coming from either his or your siblings, maybe even both. strolling by, you notice the same boy who seemed so fixated on you with his friend. looking behind you as you walk past, you check him out. he is quite attractive, somewhat of a muscular build, brown eyes and black hair.

little did you know that your glance back at him nearly gave him a heart attack. he had a plan to save you, whether it seemed wrong or right he wanted to help you realize that love can be beautiful if it's experienced with the right person.

you knew that from the way he was looking at you he definitely didn't want to be your friend, but he didn't want to be your enemy either.

TAGLIST:

@amoreva @yomochuu @ravenmedows @coconut-dreamz @vatcancameos221b-blog @purplerose291 @kal-islost @shebreathedherlast @k3ira13 @silkenthusiasts @lixzey @jennapancake @grovelingmen @harrypotterstan-1

if your tag is not here then for some reason it isn't not allowing me to tag you! feel free to either like or follow instead to catch up on updates!

[notstilinski]

Funny Story Starters !

Taken from the 2024 novel by Emily Henry, Funny Story! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! Some light spoilers for the novel may be present! 

“I fell in love with (Name) the moment I looked up from their hat.”

“Did I kill a bicyclist?”

“Could you turn it down? All the plates are rattling in their cabinets and (neighbor)’s trying to bust down the living room wall.”

“I stick my head out of the window when I smoke.”

“I let (Name) pay for literally everything. He makes a shit-ton more than me.”

“Of course that fucking meant for this to happen, (Name)! They had the last twenty-five years to tell you that they were in love with you and chose last night!”

“You brought me here! I left my friends. My apartment. My job. My entire life."

“Sometimes I wish I held on to a little bit more.”

“You look dead.”

“It’s ridiculous. It’s unbelievably fucked.”

“No. I get it. You didn’t want to be alone with it.”

“You thought I took you to a fetish bar?”

“Of course I don’t hate you. You’re unhateable. Maybe that makes me distrust you a little bit.”

“That is so depressingly cynical.”

“A shared cuckholding is the most fertile ground from which love could ever spring.”

“Are we evil or just immature?”

“(Name) and I have been taking bets on whether you’re in the FBI.”

“How many Crocs does this man have?”

“What if—and stay with me here—you just, like, tell me something about yourself?”

“Well, of having my heart shattered in the single most humiliating way imaginable can be of service to anyone, I’ll take it.”

“Such an air of disappointment. Every time you say my name.”

“They told you to trust them, and that’s what you did. That’s what you’re supposed to be able to do with people you love. They just don’t always live up to it.”

“I like most people. Is that so bad?”

“I’m not doing acid with you, (Name).”

“They all thought I was hot. Women of a certain age love me.”

“You are either the friendliest person on the planet or a world class serial killer.”

“Anything you need a helmet to do, you probably simply shouldn’t do.”

“If you’re trying to emulate (Name), I wish you the best of luck. No one can repress negative emotions like them. They’ve had too much practice.”

“I’d assumed the sunny disposition came naturally.”

“At five in the morning? I’d rather eat aluminum foil.”

“I’ve loved boyfriends less than I love this place!”

“It’d just be nice to earn my own glow sticks every once in awhile.”

“I think (Name) could be alone in a room with a paper bag and there’d still be a vibe.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m wise.”

“I want to undress you. And taste you. I want to hear you come again, and feel it too.”

“Sorry I wasn’t perfect, but you’ll understand when you’re a parent someday. You can’t do every right, and your kids will hate you for it.” 

“So they left you guys to deal with all that on your own, and you think you’re the bad guy for finding a way to survive?”

“Sometimes you make it sound like I’m a snake-oil salesman.”

“I was a little nerd, you can say it.”

“It feels like rebirth!”

“(Name) would you please do me the honor of sleeping in my bed?”

“I’m sorry. I should have waited to tell you.”

“I already told you. I didn’t do it to be nice.”

“A part of me is just waiting for the moment you see whatever it is that drives people away. And I don’t want that. I don’t want you to stop wanting me around. I think it might break my heart to be someone you don’t like.”

“I don’t want to treat you like that. I just… It’s hard to take any of this seriously. It’s hard to trust what you say now, after all the lying.”

“I told you as soon as anything happened with (Name). I know I acted like scum, but I never lied.”

“We can get our life back. It’s not too late.”

“No? How is that a response to what I just said? I just told you I love you, (Name).”

“I’m a cynic. And a cynic is a romantic who’s too scared to hope.”

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I’m exactly the kind of person they can’t handle being with, and they’re the kind who could destroy me.”

“What in Satan’s ballsack?”

“This must be what it’s like to be a proud mother.”

“I don’t want you to go but I want you to be happy.”

“I’ll fucking end you if you don’t leave!”

“They can’t see themselves clearly. They made them feel like all they ever do is let people down.”

“Here I am, keeping all my problems secret so they won’t rush in and fix them, and they tell me they’re scared they’re childhood broke them.”

“Suddenly it seemed selfish of me. to love you.”

“Not the CrossFit part, I’m incredibly lazy.”

“I honestly can’t totally figure out why someone as good as you would love me, when I can be kind of a pessimistic asshole.”

“But I do feel like the luckiest person in the world, to be who you want. Because I want you too. I love you too.”

“I can’t have your mom falling in love with me.”

“Flags so red, they veer toward maroon.”

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

ALBUM OF THE DAY: Nick Drake - Bryter Layter (1971) (8/?)

WHICH PEDRO BOY IS BASED ON? Joel Miller

ALBUM VIBES (listen to it on Spotify)

The second studio album of Nick Drake reveals a longing for a life filled with romantic love, and genuine connections meanwhile he also makes observations about the pessimism he was living through. Joel matches Drake’s anxiety and silent wishes for a better life path, even more in lyrics such as “could have been your friend a whole long lifetime, could have been the end” or “do you hope to find new ways of doing better than your worst?”. He is a folk dude, give it up to him.

JOEL MILLER CODED LYRICS

“All the friends that you once knew are left behind, they kept you safe and so secure amongst the books and all the records of your lifetime” (Hazey Jane II)

“Now that you're lifting your feet from the ground, weigh up your anchor and never look 'round” (Hazey Jane II)

“Stay indoors, beneath the floors, talk with neighbours only, the games you play make people say you're either weird or lonely” (At the Chime of a City Clock)

“For a stone in a tin can is wealth to the city man who leaves his armour down” (At the Chime of a City Clock)

“When the light of the city falls, you fly to the city walls, take off with your bride”  (At the Chime of a City Clock)

“The city clown will soon fall down without a face to hide in and he will lose if he won't choose the one he may confide in” (At the Chime of a City Clock)

“I could be here and now I would be, I should be, but how?” (One of These Things First)

“I could have been your pillar, could have been your door, I could have stayed beside you, could have stayed for more I could have been your statue, could have been your friend a whole long lifetime, could have been the end” (One of These Things First)

“I could be yours so true I would be, I should be, through and through” (One of These Things First)

“I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock as simple as a kettle, steady as a rock” (One of These Things First)

“Do you curse where you come from? Do you swear in the night? Would it mean much to you if I treat you right?” (Hazey Jane I)

“Do you like what you're doing? Would you do it some more? Or will you stop once and wonder what you're doing it for?” (Hazey Jane I)

“Do you feel like a remnant of something that's past? Do you find things are moving just a little too fast?” (Hazey Jane I)

“Do you hope to find new ways of doing better than your worst?” (Hazey Jane I)

“Come sit down on the fence in the sun, and the clouds will roll by, and we'll never deny It's really too hard for the fly” (Fly)

“Nobody knows how cold it grows and nobody sees how shaky my knees, nobody cares how steep my stairs, and nobody smiles If I cross their stiles” (Poor Boy)

“Never know what I came for, seems that I've forgotten never ask what I came for or how I was begotten” (Poor Boy)

“You may say every day "Where will he stay tonight?"” (Poor Boy)

“I never held emotion in the palm of my hand or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree, but now you're here, brighten my northern sky” (Nothern Sky)

“I've been a long time that I've wandered through the people I have known” (Nothern Sky)

“Oh, if you would and you could straighten my new mind's eye” (Nothern Sky)

“Would you love me for my head? Would you love me through the winter? Would you love me 'til I'm dead?” (Nothern Sky)

TRACKLIST (highlighted are the most Joel Miller coded songs)

1. Introduction (01'32")

2. Hazey Jane II (03'45")

3. At The Chime Of A City Clock (04'43")

4. One Of These Things First (04'49")

5. Hazey Jane I (04'28")

6. Bryter Layter (03'20")

7. Fly (02'56")

8. Poor Boy (06'05")

9. Northern Sky (03'43")

10. Sunday (03'42")

[koexchange]

erm this is on my ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/49051921

or read below :333

a/n: this was a req on my ao3 :3

word count: 631

Witchcraft was your specialty. Groundskeeping was your profession.

It paid the bills. Took up free time. Made you forget about your loneliness.

You had never been much of a romantic. Which is to say, you were perpetually single.

That never bothered you though. You found comfort in casting spells. It made getting through life easier.

It was probably the reason you were the only cemetery keeper. And definitely the reason your pay was a thousand bucks an hour.

Sorcery made your life a living heaven! Nearly anything you wanted, at your fingertips.

But of course, there were rules to spell casting.

No making people fall in or out of love, no time travel, no clone making, no reviving the dead, blah blah blah.

But where's the fun in playing fair?

On the fortune morning of November 8th, you had a 3am shift.

As you stomped over the old dead people, you saw an abnormally large grave.

One that looked like it could fit two people.

Catching your interest, it started to glow an eerie blue. You waltzed over to the dirt patch, reading the headstone.

"Leo and Vincent Caruso." It called to you. Literally. Called.

Perhaps your enchanted headphones were acting up again. How the fuck did the headstone just speak?

Standing no less than 5 feet away from it, you begin to hear more voices. What fun.

Then you remember it. The dud spell you cast yesterday, on your day off. 'The revival of the Two of Hearts.'

You had to burn a perfectly good deck of cards.

Sure, you didn't actually think a resurrection spell would work, it is forbidden after all.

But the two corpses crawling out of the earth are living- sorry, undead proof. It worked.

The only consequence for summoning the undead is the unlikely possibility of them haunting you. You know, eternally. 'Till you die.

Sounds fun.

The voices were bickering, over what? That was beyond you.

Standing directly on the old grave, shovel in hand, you start digging. Until you're yelled at.

"Hey! Who's banging on our roof?!"

"Calm down, Leo. I'll check it out."

Uh, hell no.

You would have ran, but you didn't have any time to before a ghost-like figure was sprouting its head up.

"Oh. Someone's here."

"What? Tell me it's not the groundskeeper.

The second 'person' joins their roomie above ground.

You're mumbling the words, "Yeah, I'm out." before you can stop yourself.

"Holy shit! You can see us?" The second head speaks again.

"You know what, I wish I couldn't." You start walking back to your car, done with this nightmare.

"No- wait come back!" "We have a visitor, Vince! We should welcome them!"

"Welcome? Why would I want to stay with you undead strangers?" You stop in your tracks, instantly failing at trying to ignore them.

Showing his full body, 'Leo' calls, "We aren't that bad! Promise!"

There's no less than an hour left on your shift.

What's hanging out with some old-ass ghosts' gonna hurt?

Both men stand on your earthly level, looking a bit too excited to meet you.

"It's been forever since we've had company!" That explains it.

"We were revived yesterday, Leo."

"Fuck you."

You sense a strange feeling of peace running through your body as you listen to their banter.

"You're welcome for that, by the way." You tip off your witch hat.

"Huh? Welcome for what?" Leo asks.

"Oh, I cast a resurrection spell, and it partially revived you old hags."

"Old hags?"

"Shut up." You all laugh, comfortably. "But yeah, I'm a witch. Not really sure how you missed that, Vince." You gesture to your foot-long hat.

He scoffs. "It's Vincent to you."

"Whatever you say, Vince."

Leo, feeling left out, yells, "I'd say we're all gonna get along great!"

a/n: i feel like this fell apart at the end but this was such a silly req tysm bro

[ravenskneebrace]

season 4

*fluff*

Raven was always the one to solve the big problems. Sure, Clarke was our unofficial leader. But Raven was the one behind the scenes figuring everything out. She was the one who had gotten us into contact with the Ark. She figured out how to set the outside of the dropship on fire, burning the grounders alive.

She was the one to figure out how to shut down A.L.I.E. It was no secret that without her we would have all died very early on. Once again we were in a predicament that called for a brain like Raven's. Clarke had radiod in that there was a problem. Of course there was. We had barely had time to celebrate the fact that Raven and Clarke had shut down the city of light.

All eyes were on Raven and she was expected to come up with a solution. Power plants were shutting down around the world and once again Earth would soon be soaked in radiation. I sat with Raven while she ran every calculation she possibly could.

Her and I had qucikly become close friends when she came to the ground. I had felt useless before I met her, but when she was around she would give me small tasks to do. On occasion she would even teach me things. I knew that I would never be as smart or useful as her, but being her sidekick gave me something to do.

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked her, wrapping my fingers around her shoulders.

"I wish." She sighed. "Im starting to think theres nothing I can do."

She would get like this sometimes. Sad and discouraged.

"Raven, youre the smartest person I have ever met. You’ll figure something out." I bent down and rested my chin on the top of her head. There had always been an obvious tension between us, but we were always going from one life threatening situation to another. We had no time to explore our feelings for each other, sexual or romantic. "Lets do something to take your mind off of this."

"(Y/n), if i dont figure this out we will all be dead in six months." She responded. I pulled myself away from her and sat down next to her.

"Kiss me." I said.

"What?" She looked taken aback.

"Maybe it will clear your mind." I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"I doubt it." Her eyes were back on the computer screen

"Raven, im being serious." I could tell she thought I was trying to make a joke out of things, but I wasnt. Her expression softened.

"You are?" Sbe finally pulled her eyes off the screen. I nodded my head. "I didnt realize."

I took my chance, leaning forward and kissing her. I was afraid she would pull back but she didnt. She leaned into it, kissing me back. Her fingers gently ran up my legs as she smiled.

She pulled me into her lap before kissing me on the forehead and resting her head on mine. We stayed in that position, just taking in each others company for a little while.

"Thank you for taking my mind off of things. I know I can get a bit intense."

[bericas]

Tracy Stewart, please!

How I feel about this character: i love her!! i go back and forth with whether or not i think the show could have feasibly had her live at the end of s5 and i think a lot about where she could've ended up. i think she's really fun in that she's an erica type dialed up to like a million, which makes sense given how much the stakes have raised from s2 to 5a, and so her arc is also dialed up like a million. whereas erica feels trapped by her epilepsy (which as a disclaimer i do not have epilepsy and do not know how good of a take this was of the show), tracy is plagued by night terrors, and then she becomes her own night terror!! she is terrorizing herself!! and then she starts terrorizing everyone else to!! she goes from haunting herself to dying to coming back to dying again and idk she just makes me so crazy

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: LYDIA/TRACY, theo/tracy i'm sorry, tracy/violet cause i love to lie and think morally ambiguous girls should kiss, gabe/tracy cause i love to lie again and also think that loyal followers who are killed by their leaders deserve to kiss about it, josh/tracy cause i like to recreate berica whenever possible and i think they could do it, also theo/tracy/violet and josh/theo/tracy and gabe/nolan/tracy (this is in the context of an au where she survives and has a little honeypot moment in 6b. they think she's So Cool and she reluctantly is fond of these embarrassing losers who want to kill her friends so bad)

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: lydia/tracy again, theo/tracy again, malia/tracy, scott/tracy should've been besties cause of the trauma bond, also allison/erica/tracy In My Head

My unpopular opinion about this character: i don't really know the General opinions on tracy. i guess i generally prefer to think of her as going Unhinged to cope with the weight of everything rather than just because. is that unpopular??

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: i would love for her to have lived!!! i also would've loved for theo going to Ground Hell (or tracy dying the second time if there's another revival) to have severed the kanima tie and to see what that would have done to their relationship. mostly i really want her to bully theo and generally regain her agency and autonomy i wanna see what she would do with it after everything!!!

Favorite friendship for this character: malia/tracy!! i really think they would be fun in that malia has a sister who died and tracy is a girl who died but didn't stay dead

My crossover ship: oh that's interesting. what shows do i watch. tracy/faith lehane could be soooo fun as Going Unhinged to Cope solidarity and also kissing about it

[pebletz]

Short Oneshot South Park fic (TW’s down below before reading)

Hellu friends! I was just sort of lying in bed when this story idea came to mind. While yes, I do love my romance, every once in a while I’m here for the sweet sweet angst/slight mix of horror. I also barely write fanfics but can think of scripts of dialogue for some reason? So that’s the format of this story… oops. Also, the characters can be read as either platonic or romantic, though honestly you shouldn’t be thinking about either for this one, folks.

This is a south park Stan and Kyle short one-shot script dialogue thingy ma jig, and I give you my love right now because in all seriousness, this contains a very dark topic. If you are uncomfortable with what is in the trigger warnings I give below, by all means, DO NOT READ PAST THE MORE LINE. It made me feel a slight panic in my chest just writing this, and I really would hate to have someone go through some dark traumatic memories again. So last warning, it’s about to get real dark, and very uncomfortable.

To the people who are going to read this, I wish you luck, not only for the gruesome topics at hand but also for dealing with my weird mix of both fanfic and theater script dialogue format. I’m also writing this sort of late at night, so if I made some mistakes uh… I’m very sorry. Anyways, this won’t be long, promise.

Stay safe everyone, I love you, and everything will be okay. You got this. Always be sure to ask for help when you need it. <3

-Guppie

TW/ S*icide mentions, graphic g*re mentions, possible derealization(?), anxiety, depression, eyes(?), panic attacks, hyperventilating, mentions of drugs, and finally a weird ass Omori ref I added in for no reason other than I thought it fit .-.

Speechless

Stan: Have you ever thought of killing yourself?

Kyle: …I’m sorry?

Stan: You know, offing yourself. Grab a rope, buy a gun, the end.

Kyle: … *smirks, he thinks it’s a joke* Ah yes, of course. However, I really cannot decide my fate, Stanley. Which method would best accommodate my attitude? *he chuckled*

Stan: *smiles, but it’s forced and dry. Kyle feels like he hears his lips crack.* I’m being serious.

Kyle: *giggles more, and then it slows* …why would you even ask me that?

Stan: *he brushes some of his stray hair back with his hand* You seem different. I can see it in your eyes, the way you smile. God- you’re smoking a pack of cigarettes right next to me on the rooftop of Randy’s barn. You have the biggest eye-bags I’ve ever seen on you.

Kyle: *looks away, suddenly feeling sweat under his collar* “You sure that’s not just because of finals?”

Stan: You haven’t cared about anything this year.

Kyle: …. Stan, if I’m being honest, I- … *he sees Stan’s sad smile and he gulps* I can’t say I’ve been feeling much better than that to be honest..

Stan: … *he takes a hit from his own cigar, eyes dead to the world. That once beautiful sky blue Kyle used to see were now pale in comparison, Stans eyes looked like the mariana trench now. Black. Empty. Devoid of all hope. It’s then his shoulders perk up, but only slightly. He has an idea, Kyle bets.* Let’s do it together, then.

Kyle: *his breath hitches, and suddenly he feels like he’s being pressed into the ground by a boulder* …what..?

Stan: I’m serious. I can figure it out for the both of us and we can just- end it. Together. Like always.

Kyle: …Stan I don’t think we are on the same page here-

Stan: Kyle, I have wanted nothing more than to eliminate my very existence since I was only ten years old. You get how that feels, right?

Kyle: …I-

Stan: whether you are coming with me or not, I’m not going to be here very long. I know it.

Kyle: *he’s full-on sweating now, shaking, panicking* Stan, please- I don’t think this is-

Stan: Kyle.

Kyle: Stan- please let me just-

Stan: Kyle. *he grabs Kyle’s hand, Kyle reflexes and tries to pull his hand back, but Stan doesn’t let him. He puts Kyle’s hand against his own chest.* Do you feel this? This pounding?

Kyle: *he’s breathing heavily, quickly.. it’s getting hard to breathe*

Stan: … Kyle, this- this pounding- it’s all around me now. It’s in my head- it’s- I can feel the ground b r e a t h i n g beneath me. Do you feel it too? Because fuck- Kyle- I need it gone. It’s like the world knows what’s gonna happen. It’s screaming for it. It hurts- it fucking hurts too much. I want to tear out my own organs. Isn’t that just sad? Is that a cynical thing? To want to wipe off every last trace of my existence? Is god a sadist, or am I a masochist? Does he want my blood oozing out, or is that just what they want? All I see nowadays are eyes, Kyle. Like people are watching me- waiting-

Waiting for something to happen?

I can’t take it anymore. Please Kyle- save me- help me…

Kyle: I- you- Stan- *he’s hyperventilating now, vision fuzzy. What’s happening!?* I can’t- bre a th-

Stan: ..Kyle? Kyle!?

Kyle: *everything grows dark as he falls, but Kyle still feels like he’s not alone. He feels the weight of the world crawling on his shoulders. His chest hurts. He looks around, but there’s only silence. What is he doing? Is he going to stop falling? When is he going to hit the ground with a loud crunch?*

…

……

He’s waiting for his end too.

[vumming]

all of us are dead — han gyeong-su & lee cheong-san “love, diamond” warning : spoiler, cringe, cliché, angst ( very terrible lol )

“Gyeong-su!”

You after the boy, he was quick on his feet being a few inches taller than you, seven years old Gyeong-su howled in laughter as he ran across the field. “Stop! You're so mean!”

“Haha! You can't catch me!” He cheekily threw at you, pulling out his tongue to further annoy you.

“Noo!!” You cried, watching as your stuff toy get further away from you, in the hands of the very boy whom you tried to chase. Exhaustion hitting you on your whole body, you pant, sitting down without a grain of energy left to spare before crying.

Gyeong-su looked back to where you are, finding you crying as he panicked. Running to your side and giving the doll back, “h-here! You can have it now, I'm sorry, please don't cry..” He awkwardly pats your back.

“Don't cry now... sorry, I took your doll without your permission.” He apologized, hopeful eyes looking at you as you rub your eyes. “That's why, let's make up, yeah?”

“Mhmm..” You sniffed, opening one eye to take the doll from his hands to embrace it. “I forgive you but promise me you won't do it again!”

“Make you sad?”

“Well.. yes and.. steal my doll!” You huffed, sternly stating the last of your sentence with confidence to which Gyeong-su nodded at.

“Alright! I won't make you sad and take your doll again!” A smile erupted from both of your lips, him jokingly pointing out your puffy eyes and red nose. “You look silly, hehe!” He bops your nose with his finger, a chuckle left his mouth.

It was a normal paced childhood, you and him being friends on first grade—it was a very nice friendship.

The tune of Auld Lang Syne tuning in your surrounding, you and Gyeong-su laid on the grass on all fours. Eventually, you found yourself closing your eyes.. easing into the comforting presence of your precious friend and the hum that echoes in your ear.

White and blue, the sky is so clear, it looks so pretty like this. Even much more when relief then washes in your heart, alike to a child getting their first wish granted, water flowing out of a pristine goblet made of diamond and gold. You remember..

The day you open your eyes to look at the carefree sky. The old hum of Auld Lang Syne. The familiar whisper of the wind and the light caress of the grass beneath you.

“Cheong-san..”

But what you are gazing now is complete darkness. Nothing shines in the dark, but it made you feel at ease. The throb of your heart echoes in your head.

Saline water fell out of your eyes but they did not hit the ground, no, they stayed afloat with you like feathers blown by the wind.

That mortified look— the hand that reaches out to grab your own. Fingers touched against yours but never secured.

“Why are you here?! Go back, please.. It's not your time yet!”

There were red strings all around you, enveloping you, entangled to each other as they circle around your figure. A big scissor slowly approaches, terrifying yet at the same time, comforting in a way. Blinding, the best way to describe the lolling strings that surrounds you. A lifeline.

And then,

It cuts the string.

“Stay safe no matter what.”

“I'm home, Gyeong-su.”

Nam On-jo, childhood friend of Lee Cheong-san. A very pretty, brave, and stubborn girl who've been through Cheong-san's side through thick or thin.

You can see in his eyes, the way he gazes at his friend, that lovelorn look that fills those beautiful look that makes you wish it was you whom he have his eyes set on. Even someone really stupid would be able to tell that he held deep romantic feelings for his childhood friend. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking away from the boy to avoid jealousy taking over your heart.

It hurts but you knew better.

You were an outsider who entered a close-knit friendship, what only pulls you in was Gyeong-su. Holding his hand out for you to take, like how you did years ago.

Flocked by darkness and locked by cages along with chains and shackles, the stone cold metal then infects your heart. Leaving no room for warmth, like a gemstone, so beautiful yet so hard—ahh.. This bound hatred fears you greatly.

You remembered, the need and want for him to look in your direction. Embracing Cheong-san romantically. Every touch burns, every second with him flares. It was a situation similar to a moth clinging to a candlelight.

And his mind muddled with you—pushing and pulling you alongside On-jo.

It eats you inside and out. The guilt knowing that you did something your moral doesn't like. Fuck, if only everything will burn. Then you won't have to worry about the consequences of your action. If only.. there is a border between fiction and reality, you'd jump into it with no hesitation.

“Hey, y/n. Do you like Cheong-san?”

You remember...

“Ah.. I see.. No, it was nothing! I was just curious..” Why does he look hurt? What does that mean?

“Gyeong-su! No!”

That time back where it all started to form ashes, where it all crumbles and die. The recording room. “Don't come near me! Stay away! Fuck- y/n! Stay away from me!” He was desperate, screaming his head so no one would go near him. He saw you, tears streaming down your eyes.

It burns.

It hurts.

This flame that does nothing but destroy all your hope. Your eyes drown in fog. Watching before your very eyes for him to turn into something you failed to recognize. Gyeong-su, who was always so cheeky and nice to you, no longer whom he used to be.

Our promise..

A grunt was all it took until everything fell down the drain, you, fighting him off despite the pain the prickles you to no end.

You flip him off, using your leg as a measure to keep him at a distance, his body hitting the table beside you. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was wrong- Please come back.”

For auld lang syne, my dear.

The tune that haunts you. There it goes.

For auld lang syne.

You choked a sob, pulling Gyeong-su with your weight to the window where Cheong-san was. His thrashing didn't help either, attacking everyone in his line of vision.

We'll take a cup o' kindness yet.

A push, the need to eat and instinct of the virus completely took over him. His body hits the ground yet you didn't further look. Trudging to the nearest corner to think of what you have done.

For days of auld lang syne.

“I'm such a terrible person.. I couldn't even save someone precious to me.. I'm so useless.” You whispered to yourself. This wasn't the fire you wanted.

You didn't know what came to you, kissing with the person whom your heart races for yet it didn't bring the happiness you chased. Fireworks and flowers weren't blown.

You part away, lids fluttering open as your grip remain on Cheong-san's clothes. His hand guiding your neck, you watch him lean in, running after your lips—missing your warmth despite the proximity of your bodies.

This...

It truly felt wrong.

You don't want this anymore but your body did nothing of such, obeying its' own wishes, pulling the boy closer to you and your eyes closed.

Soft yet rough, Cheong-san bit your lower lip, asking for permission, waiting for you to part your lips. Your hands sneaking up their way to his shoulder, arms finding purchase of his neck. The tingling ablaze it cause was destructive.

What felt like minutes were blown away as soon as your lips part, granting the boy access as he groan, you, swallowing the sounds he made. It felt so right and so wrong. What is it that eats you? Guilt? Sorrow? Anger? You couldn't tell because another lock causes your mind to be as clear as a puddle.

Gyeong-su pulls your hand, the two of you walking towards Cheong-san, I-sak, and On-jo. “Gyeong-su, hold on!”

“You look stupid looking at him with love sick eyes it's making me gag, at least confess to him already!”

“No wait- I am not ready yet!” You tug, trying to fight off your friend from completely dragging you to the three students that are occupied with their conversation. “Oi, you bastard!” You thrashed causing him to laugh.

“It's so pathetic seeing you so miserable, besides, I did promised not to make you sad, yeah?” He threw you a toothy grin, “So c'mon.”

Was he aware that Cheong-san himself held deep feelings for the girl? Or is Gyeong-su completely oblivious to that? “Ah.. I see.. No, it was nothing! I was just curious..”

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere.

“Gyeong-su.. was that why you asked me if I like him?” You pause in your steps, the boy halting once he heard your question, he didn't looked at you though, face held up but not towards you. “Yeah.. Yeah! that's the reason!”

He then continues to drag you. “Don't mess it up okay? I'll distract I-sak and On-jo for you as well! So you better thank me for this and buy me a lot of fried chicken later!”

You could only lightly smile even if he doesn't see it. His hands that clasped on yours, it felt nice, you shift your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Sure!”

And gie's a hand o' thine.

“Y/n-ah.. to be honest... I still want to eat fried chicken with you after this is over..” He groans, sobbing as he looks at you. “We.. we can still do that, r-right?” Gyeong-su stammered, clinging unto the last string of hope.

And we'll tak a right gude-willy waught.

“So.. don't cry-” He cries, the same smile on his face plastered—the same that will always be locked in your memories. “You really look silly when you cry..”

“I'll go out on my own.. I- I will go out so..” He walks himself towards the door, stumbling to the furniture.

Our promise.. I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill it. In the end, I still made you sad.

For auld lang syne.

“Be completely honest, do you like someone?”

Everyone stayed circle on the fire, looking at Cheong-san who cut off his previous sentence to an excuse. Your gaze locked on his contemplating face.

Personally, you don't know what to feel. A part of hopes he won't like someone else but a part of it wishes he does—which you are aware but couldn't help to think, will he really choose?

“I like you, Cheong-san!” You can vividly remember it, you confessing your love with a throbbing pain—you don't know why, but you didn't question the pain. Handling the boy your name tag before scurrying away, shy and flustered.

You stayed silent, tired and exhausted from all the running and fighting.

Listening to them, more or so, looking at the boy whom you like. Somehow, his eyes that used to sends your forlorn soul a dose of happiness couldn't be detected, lock with yours but no emotion held.

You looked away. Guilt eating you alive, you already have your answer.

“Yes.”

“Really? You do?” On-jo couldn't believe her ears, leaning towards her childhood friend's direction in interest. Everyone looks between the two of them, already having a gist of what's the connection. “Yes.” Cheong-san once again confirmed.

“Why are you stalling, is it a crush?”

“Pretty much.”

“Pretty much? What does that mean? Who is she?”

You sucked a breath in, closing your eyes and resting your head on the palm of your hand. “No one.”

“Who is she? Do I know her?” The girl pressed forward. “Who?”

Your lids cracked open, seeing the boy you fancy with deep feeling held in his eyes while looking at On-jo. “You.” He admits.

“You. Nam On-jo.”

Does it hurt?

Does it not?

Why couldn't you feel anything?

“I like you.”

Yet On-jo didn't believed him, laughing it off as a joke—you could see how hurt the boy is, looking at her in pain at the deny. “He doesn't mean it, he's just kidding.”

No one believes it. Already set at how Cheong-san bravely admits his adoration.

“We were friends and neighbors since kindergarten, that's all.” How bittersweet.

“Stop joking.” She firmly states towards him, “I'm not joking.”

Having enough, On-jo stood up and walked near the edge of the building, Cheong-san following along her causing you to groan. He just smacks it right into my face indirectly with everyone around.

But that's alright, because...

While strange, for some reason it wasn't as hurtful as you expected it to be.

“Follow my lead, y/n. This, like this!” Gyeong-su laid down on the snow, flapping his limbs back and forth before he stood up and showed you his master piece.

“I know how to do a snow angel Gyeong-su!”

“Just saying!” He pulls his tongue out towards your direction who's still busy tying the laces of your boots but the floof and big clothing you wore are kinda being a pain.

He goes near you, hot breath coming out in smog due to the cold. “Oh! You're such a slowpoke! Here, let the great Gyeong-su help you!” He chuckles, going down on one foot to tie your shoes.

“Your lace sucks.” You commented at his handiwork causing him to pout and playfully swat your incoming hands to tickle him. “Mean!”

You giggled at his reaction, watching his nose go more red than before, undoing your big scarf to circle it on his neck. “Wha- hey! You'll need this more than me! Look at you, you're much more fragile than the great Gyeong-su!”

Irked at his comment, you smack his arm, “Are you calling me weak?!”

“Duh!” Gyeong-su put the scarf back on you, rolling his eyes and heeding no mind to your scowl as he covers even your lower face with your fluffy clothing.

“But you're freezing! You can't be the great Gyeong-su if you get sick.” You pointed out causing his face to flush red, finishing the laces before cupping a snow to smack on your face, running away before you could even react to the cold.

“Why you-! Gyeong-su! Come back here!”

“You're all dead.”

Gwi-nam showed up, towering everyone and throwing them left and right. Despite the fall from earlier. You charged towards him, grabbing a loose metal from a chair to smack him with, but Su-hyeok was going on par with the same speed, causing you to speed up and swipe your feet to knock Gwi-nam down.

Shit your feet hurts like a bitch but it was worth it when you saw his defense crumble for a bit.

Everyone did their best, including Nam-ra, holding on to the boy despite the pain she's receiving. Gasping for air, you hold your punched stomach, coughing up blood before charging back, using the pole to lock Gwi-nam's neck, strangling the hambie.

“You pesky vermin! Let go!”

Seeing your hand in the line of vision, Gwi-nam bit it as hard as he could causing you to scream, his teeth bared into your bones, cracking them but your grip hardened. “Aaaarghh!!”

Fuck fuck fuck- it hurts so bad!

Tears prickling your eyes as you drag yourself back to the edge of the school building. Gwi-nam let out a cough, digging his hands to your arm to get you off, persistently pulling him until your eyes locked with Nam-ra.

Please..

Pounding a fist on the concrete, she stood up, anger bubbling before kicking the delinquent by his solar plexus, you stumbling along with him.

“Noooo!!” The man in your hold screams. The last thing you could see in the warmly lit haven, was Su-hyeok, Cheong-san and Nam-ra, the former has his hand outstretched towards your direction.

A devastated look on his face.

“Cheong-san... Stay safe no matter what..”

You whispered, grip lessen on the thrashing boy. Tears floats with you. Time stilled.

The sky couldn't be even more beautiful. Your eyes closed, and the familiar tune of your favorite song fills in the abyss.

“Wait for me, Gyeong-su.”

Underneath the rubble of the ruined building, laid a torn piece of fabric. L/n Y/n. A momento, requiem for the dead flows alone the wind. A silent song.

For auld lang syne.

[simkjrs]

Would you be willing to do Uchiha Kaeru for the ask meme?

uchiha kaeru from the scorpion and the frog by @zarinthelwrites :)

favorite thing about them

i love how she makes things worse on purpose. and i love her sense of humor. its so inspiring how she was dedicated to making things hurt more for everyone involved, at everyone's expense. girlboss of all time

least favorite thing about them

the most frustrating aspect of kaeru's character is probably that she had the ability to change things, but wasn't interested in doing so, and didn't try. as the reader you constantly are wishing that kaeru would let go of her belief that there is no point in changing "canon" because the cycle will continue, no matter what... but it is also a really excellent part of her character that makes you think again about what kind of lasting change kaeru could have made, if she tried. could she have stopped the deaths of her clan? what about the oncoming wars? and what of the fighting that would continue even after naruto swore he would change everything?

having knowledge of canon events, kaeru knows that naruto & sasuke & everyone else will fall into the exact same cycle that they swore to change. kaeru doesn't change because the world around her doesn't change. she doesn't see a point. she has the people she cares about, and fuck the rest, really. she's a great distorted mirror of the naruto world i think, so even though her refusal to change is her most frustrating aspect i also think its one of her most interesting traits. queen

favorite line

it's so hard to pick one. she had the best one liners ever and they came practically every other paragraph. i am paralyzed by choice.

favorite one liner:

"I'm just tired. I'm done fighting people, Kaeru. I sacrificed my own life to avoid causing more harm."

"I died to cause someone a ton of harm, so at least I'm going to be continuing that trend."

favorite serious moment:

"You know, Naruto," Kaeru says. "I don't have any faith in you."

"What?"

"I don't believe you can save Konoha, or change the world, or even forge a lasting peace that isn't built on blood and rot."

"I--"

"Shh, I'm still talking. I hate the world that I grew up in, and I'm going to hate the world that you grow old in, and I'm going to hate the world that still exists long after you've joined me and Nagato in the ground. But, despite all of that, I am going to go, right now, and have Kabuto release every corpse in this war that he still controls."

Kaeru smiles at him, body dissolving into slowly falling white feathers as she continues to talk.

"You're a good kid, Naruto. So, just this once, I'll act like that's going to be enough."

brOTP

kaeru & tatsuma & maruten :) the way that they are best friends despite being a missing-nin, a ROOT agent, and a t&i agent respectively is literally the funniest thing in the world. i love how they all play off of each other and how they are all ride and die. probably one of the saddest things in this story is that we dont get to see more of them being the funniest friends around

OTP

hmm well we are venturing very far into the realm of head canons about someone else's OC now. i think kaeru likes women but also is not interested in a relationship like at all. but she would find it funny if someone flirted with her probably

nOTP

kaeru x a serious romantic relationship. shes happy being dying & dead. she doesnt want one

random headcanon

i think that when orochimaru left akatsuki it was because kaeru kept driving him to tears by virtue of her insufferable personality. and i think it really hurt orochimarus feelings that kaeru thought his attempts to experiment on & kill her were funny and amusing more than anything else. he wanted to be taken seriously but he just couldnt get any dignity from her. itachi chased him out of akatsuki on purpose but kaeru wouldve been perfectly happy letting him stay in the same space as her so she could keep poking him forever. he just could not take it anymore

unpopular opinion

is there such a thing as an unpopular opinion about kaeru? i think people who are mad that kaeru didnt go on a power trip with all of her cool abilities are just haters with no understanding of how much funnier it is that she couldve done something but didnt. "you wouldn't get it" -- me to all the SV commenters who do this

song i associate with them

trigger finger by coyote kid - the kaeru & sasuke song of all time

You've got a steady hand that's cold to the touch You've only got one shot but do you have the guts To make it count. Don't let me down

You've got guts kid but Is that enough to turn this around

favorite picture of them

using my own drawing for this.

[girlwithherheadinthestars]

A Crumbled Palace of Blessings and Curses

Their dance was so perfect that when the first bomb hit, the hero couldn’t say she was exactly surprised. Bombs dropping while she danced at a villain mafia party with her worst enemy wasn’t a regular occurrence but is wasn’t an unpredictable phenomenon. 

When the second hit and the party goers in their feathers and ruffles and hats began screaming, she decided that she should probably do something. 

“Is this your doing?” The villain asked in a voice so cold that she wondered if she’d imagined the warm, soft voice he’d used while they danced. She tightened her hand into a fist; the mere thought of the dance made her blood burn in her veins. 

“If it was my doing,” She said, her voice trembling in restrained fury, “you would all be dead already.” She unsheathed the sword that was hidden within the folds of her gown and ran to a group of hardened criminals who were clinging to each other, yelling at them to get a move on. A sword couldn’t combat bombs but it sure could make a party of criminals move ten times faster. Swords are magic like that. 

The crumbed palace made her think — all this wealth, all this excess, was but a castle made of sand. In reality, none of this mattered. In reality, it only took one bomb. But real things don’t die quietly. 

  She got the crime lords free from the debris that had fallen on them, cursing herself every step of the way for her stupid, stupid heart. It wouldn’t see the difference between the good and the evil — it only saw the difference between victims and villains. She gave a quick sweep of the crumbling ballroom and saw the villain struggling to free a lady from underneath a fallen table. His most recent romantic conquest, perhaps. The hero was surprised by the bitterness of that thought. The villain could dally with whomever he wished. It shouldn’t bother her. 

It shouldn’t.

What should bother her was the fact that she was mere inches from her own death. The feeling was so familiar at this point that the hero didn’t even falter. The door was falling apart. She had only minutes before she was trapped. Maybe less. Worrying wasn’t going to fix anything. She should just run out. She should save herself. 

Her gaze darted to where the villain was saving the lady. 

Damn it. 

Cursing every god in the realm, she ran towards where the villain was struggling with the ten meter table. “Your fault for having unnecessary excess.” She grunted as she helped him heave the table onto its side. 

The lady, without so much as a thank you, ran through the crumbling door the instant she was relieved from the weight of the table. 

The hero dusted her gloved hands off and when she looked up, the villain was watching her with something akin to shock and…awe?

“What?” She snapped. 

“Nothing.” He smiled lightly, straightening himself, removing all signs of the expression he had on moments ago, back to the arrogant villainous finely dressed fiend. “Shall we go, my lady?”

“Ah no, why don’t we stay? There’s this wonderful game we could play called which of us dies first.” She snapped sarcastically as she picked up her sword and ran for the door, one hand holding up her skirts. Her shoes rubbed her ankles raw and she cursed their creation. Running without shoes would’ve been worse given the broken glass and sharp rocks jutting out of the once flawless marble floor where they had danced. The villain didn’t hesitate and ran after her, arriving to the door first given that he was blessed with proper shoes. 

“Come on!” The villain yelled at her from the doorway as their window of opportunity closed.

“You try running in these infernal things!” She yelled back, trying to gather her ragged breaths. “Go!”

“Not without you!” The villain shouted. “Run faster!”

Another bomb fell and the whole ground quaked beneath them, making the hero stagger. 

“Damn it.” The villain hissed and then began running toward her. Another bomb fell as he reached her and he shoved her roughly out of the path of debris before scooping her up in his arms and beginning to run with her to the door. 

“This is really not necessary — “ the hero began to protest, her cheeks flushing red. His arms were strong as they held her close, not even faltering at her weight, his warm breath on her cheek. Of all times for the villain to pull a stunt like this-

“Kindly shut up. And never pull any more heroic ‘leave me and run’ shit.”

“I’m a hero. It’s in the job description.”

“I couldn’t give a damn. Dying a hero is pathetic. You owe yourself life, you owe nothing to the ideals you look up to.”

Before she could argue, a final, damning bomb struck the front door and both of them were thrown backwards.

For a moment, the hero could only see black. Could only feel the villain’s solid, muscular body beneath her, his hands gripping her arms. 

She caught her breath, pain throbbing through her body, a dull ache in the back of her head. 

“Well, well, well…what do we have here?” Someone said in a singsong voice.

“Get up.” The villain whispered to her almost gently, though his voice sounded pained. Even though the palace was still crumbling, it felt quieter, like the debris falling and fires starting was all background and all that was real was the villain’s voice in her ear. “Come on. Come on, you can do it.”

Her head dazed, spots in her vision, the hero got up into a seating position but she still did not see who had spoken. 

“I must say…of all the times this has happened…you were the last two I suspected it of happening to.”

“Ahh but we’re certainly the best looking, aren’t we?” The villain said, keeping his trademark cool, amused tone even as he struggled to sit up, his hand brushing past his ribs. The hero guessed he had broken a few, the force of the blast probably having been worse on him given he’d had to intercept her fall as well.

The hero looked around but all she could see was smoke. Soon, out of the ash and white puffs of smoke, came a dark figure.

“Who?” She asked quietly, immediately beginning to access the threat, her eyes scanning the figure.

The villain smiled grimly. “My mentor.”

She narrowed her eyes. Of course the heroes got mentors…but the villains? Heroes were chosen at age 10 and given their mentors…were the villains chosen too?

She turned to look at him, something beginning to become clearer in her mind. 

“I see you’ve gone and done exactly the opposite of my instructions.” The villain’s mentor said, the cool facade shifting to reveal a flare of anger.  

“I don’t see how.”

“If she’s alive, then you certainly weren’t obeying.” 

“We’re villains, isn’t that the essence of our trade?” The villain asked dryly, rising to his feet. 

The hero followed suit, picking up her fallen sword and holding it at her side, remaining silent, not quite prepared to show her hand in neither swordsmanship nor mastery of language. Let him estimate. Let him wonder. Let him doubt the girl with the soot covered face in the pale gold evening gown.  

“Tsk, tsk, always with the words, my protege. You do talk too much.” The mentor sighed. “Always words, but never one action to prove them.”

“Words are enough to convince a weak mind. And everyone is weak.”

“Clearly. I mean…look at what happened to your mother.”

The villain stiffened, casually stepping in front of the hero. “My mother is irrelevant.”

“Oh, but does your dear friend know who the mother of her dance partner is?”

“Your antics begin to bore me.” The hero said in glorious aristocratic boredom. “Will you stand here all night exchanging postures or can you kill each other so that I may report a successful mission?”

“You’re quite amusing for a hero. They should’ve sent you to us. It’s really unfortunate.” The mentor said, stalking towards her. As he drew nearer, the hero realized that the mentor’s features weren’t shadowed merely due to the smoke and ash — for this man was no man, his face was made of shadow, and the shadows danced and wreathed about him. 

The mentor accessed her and she met his studying gaze with her own fierce one.

“Oh I know you…you’re his daughter… Yes…you would have made a fantastic villain, darling. I remember the glorious battle waged on your behalf. The heroes and villains fought the most wonderful bloody battle to see whose side you’d end up on. Because they knew, you were the one who would decide the fate of the war.” He stood close enough that she could feel his shadows tingle against her skin. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear, “They made you the hero because you would have torn apart the world as the villain.”

She swallowed, trying to keep the goosebumps from rising on her skin and betraying her fear.

He pulled away from her. “Now what to do with you two….I only have space for one villain in the barracks. And I couldn’t just let the heroes’ champion leave…” He smiled and then declared. “Only one of you lives.”

A dark wind blew about them and suddenly the villain and the hero were facing each other, each with a ceremonial silver dagger in their left hand. 

“Go on, children. I don’t have all century.”

“It was always me or you.” The villain told the hero darkly raising his dagger. 

The hero kept her dagger at her side, not daring to move. He was faster than she and any sudden move from her would trigger the maelstrom of his dagger-wielding.

“And I think it’s clear which one of us leaves here tonight.” He said in a lover’s whisper as he brought the dagger to her neck, pressing it there almost gently.

She still said nothing.

“And since it’s my choice…I hope you enjoy the villain’s barracks.”

It was the work of an instant.

The dagger left her neck and plunged into his stomach, a scream tearing its way out of her throat. “NO!”

The mentor chuckled as the villain’s body went down and the hero fell to her knees beside him, holding him. “What a foolish waste of a life.”

Part One

[babesonly]

fic recs 2.0!

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

Canonverse

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

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

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

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

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

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

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

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

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

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

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

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

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

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

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

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

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

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

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

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

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

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

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

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

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

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

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

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

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

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

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

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

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

And it used to belong to someone else.

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

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

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

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

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

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

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

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

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

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

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

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

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

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

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

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

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

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

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

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

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

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

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

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

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

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

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

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

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

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

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

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

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

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

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

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

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

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

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

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

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

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

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

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

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

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

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

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

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

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

Bodies by Speary (18k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you remember, Cas?”

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

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

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

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

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

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

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

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

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

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

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

Dean was done with this shit.

***

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

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

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

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

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

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

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

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

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

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

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

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

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

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

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

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

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

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

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

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

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

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

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

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

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

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

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

Frigging fantastic.

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

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

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

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

Or

An ethics lesson from Hell

Or

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

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

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

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

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

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

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

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

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

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

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

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

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

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

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

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

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

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

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

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

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

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

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

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Cas?”

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

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

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

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

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

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

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

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

Dean will tell him—

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

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

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

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

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

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

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

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

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

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

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

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

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

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

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

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

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

--

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

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

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

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

(A character study of Castiel.)

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

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

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

--

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

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

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

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

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

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

"Hello, Dean."

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

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

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

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

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

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

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

Or can it?

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

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

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

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

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

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

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

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

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

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

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

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

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

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

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

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

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

~~~

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

God, he's so fucking stupid.

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

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

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

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

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

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

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

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

Non Destiel Centric

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

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

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

[quaranmine]

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. “Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Supernova (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mental health issues and episodes.

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: Oof it has been a while since the last update

Supernova Masterlist

“I told you specifically that you were not to get involved! And you deliberately disobeyed me!” Your mother scolded but her voice was getting a decibel louder each time. You looked unfazed and unbothered, not even trying to maintain eye-contact while receiving your mother’s disappointment and instead staring out the window.

It was not what you had wanted to hear at the moment if you were being honest. The past few days had been hard and you even missed training since Valerie’s death. Robin had been by your room multiple times trying to get you out of bed but you just remained there. Not living, not dying, just existing.

Your mother’s comfort might have done nothing to change the way you downward spiraled after the events and while your mother yelled at you, the same images kept replaying in your head as they did for the past few days; Robin ripping you away from her body as the police and press showed up, Valerie’s parents finding out what happened and then watching her mother break down in front of her daughter, Valerie’s little sister wailing during the funeral.

You didn’t leave the bed after that, still dressed in the black blazer and trousers you had worn that day. It had been a couple days. You had managed to swallow down Robin’s green smoothies and even a couple slices of fruit but you didn’t quite remember what it was. They all tasted bland and disgusting.

Your mother had found out about your identity through the multiple press reports and articles and while you were sorry that she had to find out that way, you didn’t have the capacity to show it. The last thing you had was the energy to fight with her, or even resist her.

So instead, you just listened to whatever she had to say, hoping that she’d leave sooner or later but the more you felt your head throb, the more frustrated you got. This was just so typical of her, of course the unstoppable, fearless, undefeatable Wonder Woman would have no idea what you were going through. And instead of asking you for your two cents, instead of comforting you, she had been trying to imprint her anxieties onto you.

Had she even thought how hard this must have been for you? For even a second? You couldn’t imagine it because if she had thought about you for even a moment, she would’ve realized that you literally saw your best friend murdered before your eyes. She would’ve realized that you were feeling like you didn’t deserve to live on the face of the earth. And she would’ve tried to comfort you.

Instead, she stormed into your room, tossing her phone with the news article on the bed before beginning her lecture and now fifteen minutes later she had yet to ask you if you were okay.

Her argument was stupid as well. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen to you; you were hardly responsible and yet no matter how hard you tried to avoid the matter, it kept pulling you back in. You couldn’t deal with this like a human, no matter how much your mother wanted you to, because you knew that you were more than that and you could have done something. It left you feeling guilty.

But at the same time, you couldn’t handle this as a god because you weren’t. You kept thinking about how you ended up coming short in each fight; had you been blessed with just a little more, had you not been part human then you wouldn’t have gotten injured the night Mary-Anne got captured and you would’ve saved her. If you weren’t limited, you would’ve been faster the day Valerie was killed, you would’ve reached her before it happened, you would’ve stopped it.

You were truly useless, but you didn’t have the excuse to be.

That made you feel absolutely worthless. Even after being blessed with so much, you still came up short. You still failed.

And who was to blame for that? The cruel fate that had you in the position you were today.

“If you weren’t my daughter—” Your mother muttered to herself in her anger, realizing that you weren’t reacting to anything she said but you caught the start of her sentence, cutting her off with a humorless and tired laugh.

“If I wasn’t your daughter,” You finally looked at her and you saw her features morph into one of worry when she finally noticed all the tears that were skating down your cheeks, “I wouldn’t be here.”

“Three people are dead, mom.” You cried, voice cracking but she stood there as if she was nailed to her place, “And I only have myself to blame. If I had been faster, stronger, if I didn’t have these human side to me, they wouldn’t be.”

“I can’t live like a god because I’m not competent enough, not gifted enough.” You sobbed, wiping away your tears and holding a hand up when she tried to approach you. You were too overwhelmed at the moment, too much input was there and it was overloading all your senses, “And I can’t live like a human because if I was this wouldn’t be happening to me.”

“If I wasn’t your daughter,” You spoke and it scared her with just how much malice you put into it, like you were disgusted with yourself for being her child and in a way, you were, how could you be Wonder Woman’s daughter and still be so weak?

“Those people wouldn’t have died when I was there to do something about it. Mary-Anne would have been gone without me knowing, my principal wouldn’t have been a casualty and I would’ve gotten Achilles’ tarot.” It was like you had given up. So many emotions were rushing through you that you couldn’t understand what was pushing you anymore, if there was anything there.

You weren’t ready just yet to give up on being a hero, not after another death. You wanted to help, you couldn’t continue to be useless and yet it felt like you were burning the candle at both ends.

“Please just go. I don’t expect Wonder Woman to understand what it’s like to be caught between paradise and hell.” You said, laying down once again and pulling the covers over your head, “Just go.”

You heard the door open and click shut before you were bathed in silence and darkness once again. For a minute it felt peaceful and you let the minutes bleed into hours without realizing just how much time passed as you were curled up in the hollow of your blankets.

You heard the door click open but didn’t bother to rear your head from your shelter until you felt someone poke you in the back. When you turned, Robin was standing with a tray in his hands and a reassuring smile on his face, “I got you something to drink.”

He didn’t ruin the silence that you had been yearning for, in fact the sound of his voice was sweet to the ears. This was what you needed.

Shifting slightly, you patted the empty spot next to you and when he settled comfortably beside you, it wasn’t suffocating or difficult like how you felt with your mother. Robin handed you the glass of fruit cocktail smoothie and you accepted, sipping the drink quietly and enjoying the chill slipping down your throat.

This wasn’t uncommon. Ever since you both started training together, you often found yourself searching for him when you needed comfort, since Robin was the one you had gotten closest to during your stay here. Now, with just an inch of distance between you, you were feeding off his energy and it was putting you at ease.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he didn’t flinch, having been used to it by now but the first time you had even held his hand, the poor boy had jumped out his skin. You just needed the physical touch to put you in balance for a while and recharge, he realized that a while ago. Robin even felt better himself whenever you played with his fingers, specifically taking off his gloves to feel his skin or leaned against his back after a long day of training.

It felt so intimate but not romantic. He just felt needed and supportive whenever you relied on him this way, delicately threading your fingers together and sitting in the silence of your room. He didn’t even have to look at you, just feeling his presence beside you was okay.

The sound of you finished the drink through the straw filled his ears before he realized he should speak up.

“(Y/N).” He said gently and you didn’t lift your head, just humming to show that you had heard him, “They’re interrogating her murderer today.”

He would’ve thought that you were unshaken by the news had he not felt your hands tighten its grip on his. You just nodded, burying your head closer to his neck, wishing the ground would just suck you in. He didn’t say anything else, gently drumming the fingers that were set on his thigh.

***

Your hands clenched into fists as you gazed at the figure behind the one-way window. She looked too simple, too mundane to be a murderer but you knew she was the one responsible for Valerie’s death. Afterall, you had been the one to catch her red-handed.

Messy red hair was thrown into a bun, her unkempt strands and frizz making her look like she hadn’t slept in days and you were part to blame for that. Her lip was still split from where you punched her, your knuckles pricked at the sight, eager for more.

Looking at her, you couldn’t imagine how she was responsible for this, a frail looking woman who looked like she couldn’t even hurt a fly. Her name was Thelma, at least that’s what it says on her identity card. Thelma had been denying that as her name since the interrogation had begun.

Going through her file, she looked just as you had assumed; ordinary.

Batman hadn’t gotten a word out of her, she had refused to co-operate with the interrogation at all, pretending not to hear his questions, going as far as to even deny committing the crime at all. That part made you clench your jaw so tight you could’ve sworn your teeth could crack. She knew she had the advantage here.

As per the rules from the UN, you weren’t allowed to use the lasso of Hestia without her consent to assist the interrogation as it violates their right to remain silent. Watching her blatantly deny the crime that you knew she had committed had your blood boiling in your veins. If only you could wrap Hestia’s rope around her throat.

You growled as Batman tried to intimidate her but it was in vain before grabbing the lasso from your mother’s waist and stomping to the door.

“(Y/N)!” She warned, as if daring you to defy her again.

You didn’t even spare her a glance before throwing the door open and stepping inside. Batman stalked up to you quickly, leaning in with a cold fury but you didn’t back down, holding his stare. You couldn’t just stand back anymore, the feeling of knowing that you could have done something but didn’t was too much for you to take anymore.

“Give me a chance.” You murmured, “I won’t go against protocol. You have my word.”

His gaze hardened for a second before giving you a curt nod and moving to the corner of the room. He didn’t trust you not to lose your temper, not just yet and you were more than determined to prove one of the big three that you could handle yourself. Although the urge to slap the condescending look off her face was getting more tempting.

You fastened the rope to your belt before stepping in front of the table, resting your hands against it in a self-satisfying way that you saw in movie before finally looking Valerie’s murderer in the eye. Haggard green eyes behind thick lenses and wrinkles running deep into her pale skin. She looked pathetic. That made you feel both frustrated and proud.

“Your name is Paris,” You bit out with such venom, making sure to keep your voice loud enough for the members behind the glass to hear you clearly, “Isn’t it?”

She smirked and her eyes flashed with some pride that had you resisting the urge to throw her across the room. It would be so easy to snap her neck right then and there, to make her pay for what she did to your dear friend but you controlled yourself.

“Finally, someone with a brain.”

You mirrored her smirk, feeling your spine straightened with a little confidence, your hunch had been right, “How couldn’t I have known The Great Paris? The brave soldier who slayed Mighty Achilles.” You purred, taking your eyes off her and glancing at the glass. You were keeping your tone even, your gaze steady to show your mother but you were comforted knowing that Robin was behind it.

“The brave, skilled, mighty Trojan Prince Paris. Made a name for himself by being the best of his kind. Only a mortal but still managed to take down a divine god.” You droned, noticing how she began beaming at your words. You turned back to her and even though it was just a moment, they had seen something change in your eye. Your glare turned dark and you smirked.

“Only we both know one thing; your name isn’t Paris.” Her smile vanished and you took a step closer, sitting right across her to look her in the eye. “Tell me if this sounds familiar, hmm? A lonely, old woman living all alone. She’s at a dead-end job. She has no family, no friends, no light in her life.”

The way you spoke had your mother on edge. Every single word that came out of your mouth was like hitting a nail on the head. It was unlike anyone had ever seen before.

Robin clutched his cape nervously in his hands as he watched you interrogate Thelma with something settling in the pit of his stomach. He had seen that look before, the very same dark glare on his father and now it scared him that it was almost identical on you. He couldn’t let you turn out as his dad, he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“And then finally she gets something in her life. A chance at hope. A chance at purpose. Something to finally make her believe that her life is worth living. Sound familiar? I bet it does, Thelma.” You hissed, “Because that pathetic woman was you, wasn’t it? You thought that if you killed Achilles you’d be rewarded, worshipped even. And finally, your miserable little life would have some meaning. Didn’t you?”

The look of fear in her eyes fed your hunger for a while. She was shaking her head feebly, looking at the ground since she couldn’t hold your gaze and you could only get angrier. Where was the pride and arrogance that she was showing earlier? Where was the crazed look in her eye as she murdered your best friend in cold blood?

“Only you were stupid,” You spat, “You were careless and you got caught. And suddenly, you weren’t the Mighty Paris that defeated Achilles. No, you were pathetic, irrelevant little Thelma who killed an underaged, unprotected girl in the locker room of her high school. I saw it all. You’re despicable.”

Robin watched your eyes swirl with a darkness he had never seen before. You were always trying to fight against your demons that were pulling you into the deepest recesses of your mind but now it was like you had finally surrendered to it. It was scary to watch such a pure person slowly get corrupted and Robin felt his resolve harden a little. He wouldn’t let you end up like the Dark Knight.

He had known Wonder Woman for most of his life and it was always your mother’s unconditional love and hope for the human race that made her what she stood as today. You always wanted to be like your mother, in body and mind. Now it felt like you were throwing away all those principles. Now it was to protect your own, and no one else.

If there was anything he could do to prevent you from going down that path he would, he realized when he saw the manic look in your eye. You were so close to being lost. Robin spared a glance at your mother, seeing her stand steady and tall. You were teetering over the edge at the moment and if your mother pushed just a little in the wrong way, you could possibly be lost to the rest of them. He wouldn’t let it come to that.

The darkness storming in your eyes suddenly ceased. Your features went slack in a terrifying way as you leaned towards the shivering woman in front of you as your fingers went white around the edges of the table.

“You took something very precious from me,” It was like poison was dripping from your tongue and you kept your voice low enough so only the both of you would know what you were saying, “Watch how easily I can do the same to you.”

Suddenly you pulled back and turned towards Batman with a small, disarming smile, “She’s free to go, Batman. She isn’t the one who killed Valerie. She’s just an ordinary, insignificant civilian.”

It was like a thread snapped.

“I DID IT! I KILLED HER! IT WAS ME!” Thelma shrieked lunatically, kicking the table and banging her hand-cuffed hands against the tabletop. She began sobbing loudly, screaming about how she was the one who killed Valerie and your heart lightened with satisfaction just a little. Just what you wanted.

“It’s my word against yours, Thelma. I witnessed the murder. I just think you’re just confused.” You replied, seemingly unfazed by her episode. The way she was crying in poor agony would usually have you off-put, concerned even. But right now, all you felt was your eardrums sting. She deserved none of your remorse.

“NO! NO, I DID IT! I DID IT!”

The smirk on your face was unmistakable, “Oh really? Will your confession hold up against the Lasso of Truth? Do you think it can?”

Her crying died down until she was softly sobbing into her hands, knowing that she had no other way out. She had lost, “Yes. I did it.”

You loosened the lasso around your waist, letting one end fall to the ground before wrapping it once around your wrist for better leverage, “Then let the interrogation begin.”

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@hanbedumbaf

@superheroesaremyjam113263

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

Supernova Taglist:

@tinybeantm

@adc2016

@seoulnights5

@renjunvrse

@brightjimini

@mad4hugs

@uniyasi

@wierdlypineapple

@mono--moonchild

@smol-book-nerd