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moxfirefly · 3 years ago

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Ssssooooo I'm gonna keep the "only one bed" trope train and ask for it with maybe Heisenberg? I know you're obsessed with him dont even deny it uwu

*vibrates excitedly* oh BOY!!!!! Thank you Dia, you always gimme the prompts my little heart wants. Shout out to @akumaalert I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to include Karl’s powers being on the fritz due to, sensations, and that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for your brilliance!

I’m going off the friggin rails here so,

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a voice in the back of your head that sounded too much like your mother.

It kept yelling at you that this was unsavory, that this wasn’t modest of you and your teachings. Who were you to lie with a man? A man you weren’t bound to, a Lord on top of it. All those sinful talks in the big black book circled your mind like vultures.

But he had offered, no?

It was pouring out after all, a big bad storm complete with thunder and gusts of wind that would’ve blown you away probably.

The nature of this friendship? Complicated, very very complicated. You had racked your brain over it as you had buttoned up one of his shirts and climbed into his bed just as another clap of thunder sounded. It made you scurry, somewhat not as elegantly as you may have liked but nevertheless it didn’t stop him from laughing at you.

For such a large factory it only housed one bedroom which just so happened to be his own. He had every intention of sleeping somewhere else, some way, but you had insisted that it wasn’t fair. The storm wasn’t his fault or your own, the living accommodations weren’t either.

So here you were.

In bed with Karl Heisenberg.

Falling a sleep had proven quite difficult, the insistent slide of pencil on paper, the storm and its monstrous sounds. There was a distant revving of something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned to face Heisenberg with every intention of passing the time.

Or at least to help yourself to ogling him.

Your mother voice rang again.

Unsavory, so unsavory.

But he was there, shirtless, sturdy, muscle in his arms and missing those damned shades for once. Whatever he was scribbling had his undivided attention, as you snuck a glance you saw drawings instead of words.

He could draw?

Rather good too.

“What is that?” You tried to lift your gaze but a large hand fell on the page to obscure your snooping. “Nothing, just ideas” He flipped the page, the white of it begging for ink.

“My apologies… I didn’t know you could draw though” He could still see curiosity adorned in your gaze, a noticeable silence falling as your stared up at him. You wanted something, that’s all he could tell.

“…What do you want me to draw?” He huffed out, even if you excitedly sat up in bed and rested against the headboard with a big smile. “Hmm, surprise me or maybe draw me?” You chuckled but went quiet when you watched him scoot down to the end of the bed onto his side. He flipped open the note book again and squinted at you.

“How opposed are you to taking your clothes off?” He smirked and in turn you rolled your eyes.

“Depends, let’s see how well you draw me first” You shot back with every intent of dishing out what he was. Heisenberg chuckled before picking up the pen to start on the newest blank page. “You better keep your mouth shut about this, don’t want villagers lining up to get my works of art” His movements seemed almost mechanical, eyes occasionally lifting to meet you as he did. “There’s enough pictures of your mother in everyone’s homes, hm?” You watched his eyes roll again but he remained silent, he stole another glance at you, eyes roaming your chest now.

Something about that made your skin warm, a nice blush found itself onto your cheeks.

“You draw everyone woman you get into bed?” You asked rather quietly, the small pin prick of jealousy manifesting in your fingertips.

“No, much to your surprise I don’t have all the women of this village in here for sleepovers” His gaze fell to your now exposed legs and the urge to cover them increased but he was quick to tap the end of his pen on your approaching hands. “Stop moving,” He returned to the notebook with a concentrated chew on the inside of his cheeks. The strands of silvery hair fell in front of his eyes and you wished that maybe you too possessed the ability to draw and capture him.

He was handsome.

Those pesky sinful thoughts found you again and with that came the urge to do something about it.

“You better fucking like it, this is reserved for projects after all” He let the pen rest on the bed and flipped the note book towards you.

Your eyes went wide.

It was a sketch, not polished but there in the scribbly lines of black was your face and your body. The messy details perfectly representing you. Your drawn eyes stood out to you, the slight fall of his shirt on your shoulder stood out to you, the way he took more time to detail your legs stood out to you.

“Is that stunned silence? It’s shit isn’t it?” He glared at the page, eyeing up all its faults but you were quick to move and shake your head. “It’s not shit! I’m just- Karl this is beautiful, you’re talented” You observed the image again, a small crinkle at the corners of your mouth.

“I’d ask to keep it but-“ He took the notebook back, not relenting even as you pouted. “Nope, I like this, all I usually have on here is ugly inventions” And corpses, he obviously left that out. He continued to admire the drawing before he grinned, letting hazel eyes fall on you from above the notebook. “Well?” He simply asked and you knew.

“Might come back here for the nude study if you’re going to make me look this nice” You shamelessly flirted back. Heisenberg laughed, a true sound with not ill intentions. “Well I’m sure arrangements can be made” He closed the note book but his eyes soon found your own, close enough that he could smell the oils that had touched your skin this evening. With a bite to your lower lip and a steadying beat of your heart you leaned in close to him. Heisenberg’s lips pursed momentarily, the anticipation of your lips coming down on his own making something electric pulse inside of him.

But you stopped, an inch away from his lips.

His brows furrowed at being denied and that fact that you found that so endearing made you muffle a laugh between your tight lip smile.

Of course, he had to make you shudder, rub his knuckles across your cheek and dig his fingers into he back of your head. “What, pup?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sounds vibrating against your bottom lip and chin. The gentle nudge to close the distance left you breathless.

His lips were surprisingly soft, the scar noticeable against your lips but the bumpy tissue only served to make you melt against him. It was short, several gentle touches that made you shiver as you felt his nails scratch into your scalp.

Pressing your forehead to his own you sighed, want was there and he could feel it, taste it against your lips, feel it in the shiver on your flesh. A small zap hit your skin and the small yelp that escaped you only served to make him chuckle. “Did you just- was that electricity?” Your skin felt prickly suddenly, he only grinned more like a mad dog. Heisenberg wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you beneath him, the series of shrieks you let out only making him laugh more. “You can be such a beast” They way your hands landed on his bare chest to smack him was short lived.

Some retaliation was to be had. So you scratched your nails down his body before landing on his waist. The tremble of his arms as he held himself above you made you smile. With a gentle nudge of your knee you trapped him in between your legs, pulling him down onto you by his waist. He huffed, hair falling and obscuring his heated gaze. It was instinct, to wrap your arms around him and feel his so warm and soft and strong against you. The scratchiness of his beard was felt at your neck, along with that his teeth meeting warm skin.

He sucked a bruise onto your neck with a roll of his hips.

“Do you want me?” He grumbled against your pulse, tongue soothing the bruise.

You nodded, digging your nails into his waist before dragging them up his back.

“No, no, pup” He nosed your ear, teeth finding your lobe with a gentle tug. “I need to hear it, use your words” It was almost a purr, enough to goosebump your skin and lift your hips.

“Want you, want you so much, please…” You exposed your neck more for him, felt his lips find your throat. “Good pup” His hands found the neck of the shirt and with one fluid motion you heard and felt all the buttons pop off. He pulled it apart to reveal your chest, he hummed at the sight before him. “Now I should draw this some day” His grin made your cheeks flush again, even more so when he pressed his face against your chest, a rub of his cheek scratching your soft skin.

Lips pressed, tongue drawing patterns as you muffled a whine and grabbed his hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Ka-oh god!” A particular hard bite at your ribs made you grip silver locks with more intention. He groaned at the rough handling of his hair, the strain on his neck as you tugged hard enough that he could see your pupils blown wide for him.

When Heisenberg leaned back, allowed space between both your heated skins, you ached.

Visibly ached.

You followed those talented scarred hands to the front of his trousers, watched as he unbuttoned them slowly. But you couldn’t stay away too long, fingers itched to feel him, to touch every part of him and find out what made him tick. You unrolled what was left of your his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the bed. When he saw your hands go between your legs he palmed himself at the sight of it.

“You want your hand, mhm? Or would you much rather prefer my cock?” He emphasized with a tight squeeze of his hardened length and wordless you replied by removing your hand and reaching for him once more. Ever the asshole, he gripped your hand away and raised his brows, he wanted those verbal answers.

Bastard.

“Your cock, please” Intertwining your fingers with his own you gently brought him back down to you for a long and sensual kiss. Against those lips you whispered, “Inside, want you inside now” just as another clap of thunder hit.

There were more clothes gone, scattered across the room unwanted and unneeded. Heisenberg had every intention of feeling you come apart around him when he entered you slowly. Each hiccuped whine shooting your arms more tightly around him, pressing him down closer to you. The heat he was already exuding was making you break out in a sweat, you felt his hands slide beneath you with a groan the further his slid into you.

He was buried to the hilt, tight heat so perfect he growl against the bruised flesh of your neck. “Fucking good little pup, taking me so good” His filthy words fell against your ear, short but pronounced thrusts making you dig your nails onto his back. “Yesss, don’t be afraid, don’t break so easily baby” Heisenberg leaned his head as far as he could to catch your gaze in all its lust blown glory. He kissed you again, more ferocity, more purpose, all tongues and teeth and demanding bites. The heels of your feet rested at his back side encouraging him deep into you with every thrust he delivered.

Being at the end of the bed doing this felt weirdly interesting, each thrust he gave you made the bed creak, lean away from the wall just a bit, it’s increasing squeak joining the chorus of the storm.

When you dragged your nails down his back, right towards his rear and gripped and moaned loud enough to have him shake, you saw something lift from the corner of your eye. You eyes squinted at the spoon suddenly mid air, you weren’t unaware of his gifts but why was he-

You train of thought was lost to you when he angled his thrusts just the right way to hit your sweetest of spots, every possible question was being tried and language had fallen at the bottom of your list of abilities. You arched into him, neck on display for his teeth to once again find, that tight hold on his rear remained and he seemed to really enjoy it by the sounds and sensations of his heated grunts. “Puppyyy, such a good pup, could stay buried in this hole all week” Oh you would let him, you wanted him in fact, why go back to the village, you’d rather put your days on this bed.

No matter how many dangerous items kept floating about, no matter how his skin felt almost electric as he thrusted into you more feverishly, this is what you wanted.

You wanted him.

“Then do it, oh god just do it please!” He hooked his arms beneath your knees and locked you beneath him either every intention of making your moans louder than the rain. Heisenberg unceremoniously pounded you, every hit making your toes curl and your voice choke up. “Gonna fuck a mess into you, you want it? Mhm?” Dangerous dangerous dangerous!

But you did.

Whimpered a series of broken yes yes yes, at his ear. The bruising hold proved necessarily, you felt your legs shake and stiffen all at once, heard several things sort of just go pop! It dawned on you that it had been the lights but that couldn’t have been the storm-

Your orgasm snuck up on you, quite literally hit you smack in the gut with Heisenberg at his tail end as well, it must’ve been seconds apart from one another. He moaned right against your ear, hips drilling into you with every intention of making you lose your god damn mind. Several objects clattered around you, startling you and in the process making you hold onto him.

His amused chuckle came out in breathless pants, the now darkened room only having a lone candle as the source of light. He gave your hip a gentle tap, “It’s okay, just shit that happens” He sounded somewhat sheepish as you both still panted. You reached up and cupped his sweaty cheek, fingers mapping a crias crossed scar. Here in the dimly lit room he still managed to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You wanted him again.

Wanted all the madness that came with him.

You pulled him down again to show him just that as you kissed him.

#ask #dianounais #re8 village #re8 #resident evil 8 #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #re8 heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #lord heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg #fanfic tropes #ns*w

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babesonly · 4 years ago

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fic recs 2.0!

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

Canonverse

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

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

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

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

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

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

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

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

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

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

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

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

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

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

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

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

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

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

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

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

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

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

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

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

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

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

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

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

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

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

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

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

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

And it used to belong to someone else.

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

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

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

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

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

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

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

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

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

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

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

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

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

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

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

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

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

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

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

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

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

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

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

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

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

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

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

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

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

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

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

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

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

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

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

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

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

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

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

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

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

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

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

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

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

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

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

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

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

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

Bodies by Speary (18k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you remember, Cas?”

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

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

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

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

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

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

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

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

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

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

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

Dean was done with this shit.

***

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

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

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

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

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

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

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

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

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

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

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

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

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

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

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

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

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

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

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

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

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

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

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

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

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

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

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

Frigging fantastic.

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

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

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

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

An ethics lesson from Hell

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

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

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

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

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

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

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

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

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

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

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

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

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

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

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

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

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

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

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

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

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

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

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

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Cas?”

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

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

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

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

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

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

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

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

Dean will tell him—

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

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

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

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

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

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

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

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

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

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

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

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

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

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

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

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

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

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

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

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

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

(A character study of Castiel.)

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

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

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

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

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

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

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

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

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

"Hello, Dean."

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

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

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

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

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

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

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

Or can it?

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

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

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

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

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

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

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

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

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

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

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

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

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

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

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

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

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

~~~

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

God, he's so fucking stupid.

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

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

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

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

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

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

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

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

Non Destiel Centric

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

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

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

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

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saabbi · 4 years ago

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Regret part 7

Warmth in the freezing snow

Genshin Impact Adeptus!reader au

warnings: light angst?, mentions of drugging and syringes, probably messy, crappy quality

words: ~2.8k

Notes: series is resuming after the hiatus. I had a hard time writing this chapter (because I suck at writing) so I really hope this chapter didn't turn out to be too messy and confusing. ao3 series link

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Stepping out the ship, you’re immediately greeted by the harsh and nostalgic icy cold breeze. Pure white snowflakes that dance around your vision and the pile of soft snow beneath your feet tells you that you’re back in Snezhnaya.

You asked a subordinate to help you deliver the lantern you had bought for Teucer and obediently followed another Fatui member, who guided you to the chamber where the Tsarista is patiently waiting for your arrival.

“Your highness, I have returned.” You kneeled down on one knee, head lowering to pay your respects. The Tsarista’s ice cold gaze pierces you, making you anxious on why she summoned you.

“My loyal subject.” a voice so calm and quiet, barely to be heard, yet crystal clear and reverberates around the shallow and empty hall, sending a chill down your spine. You look up upon her call, acknowledging that she remains ever so strikingly breath-taking, as resplendent as the most exquisite flower, as elegant as Snezhnaya’s never-melting snow.

“Dottore has found a way to further enhance the capabilities of Fatui, and your aid is needed to achieve it.” She walks closer to you with each step, stopping just before your kneeled figure.

“To achieve it, your aid is necessary. I trust that you will provide all the help Dottore needs dutifully, yes?” A simple question, but her tone indicates that she does not accept rejection as an answer.

“Yes, of course.” The Tsarista seems delighted at your answer, resting her chilly hand on your cheeks and lightly caressing it with her thumb. The subtle intimate gesture however, was nothing resembling that of affection. The Tsarista’s sharp gaze remains fixated on you, yet it doesn’t feel like she’s properly looking at you at all. Her gaze has always been like that, as if she’s looking for something deeper in your soul, but not your existence.

“Dottore, come in. The final mission of our primeval harbinger shall now be performed.” The coldness on your cheeks is replaced by the sudden gushes of wind, the words leaving the Tsarista’s mouth leaving you off guard as you abruptly shot your head up.

“...Your highness? What does that-” Cut off by a harsh slam of the door, you turn to the entrance only to reveal a masked man with curly blue locks- Dottore. The condescending smirk spreading on his face as he meets your wary eyes sets off alarms in your head, screaming that this man is up to no good.

Your hand immediately reaches towards the hilt of your sword resting on your hips, ready to draw it out if he makes any suspicious movements. Furrowing your eyebrows and eyeing Dottore’s every move, unsure of what he would do.

“Relax, relax. This is all under the Tsarista’s orders, doesn’t do too much harm...I guess?” Dottore, now casually twirling a syringe filled with a dangerous-looking fluid, puts his hands up in the air in a placating manner, but his halfhearted response only makes you glare at him cautiously.

“I will have to question you on what you’re about to do, Dottore.” It’s all under the Tsarista’s orders, and you thought it would just be something about training new Fatui recruits, but Dottore’s behaviour insinuates that there is much more than that, and seems like the syringe is to be used on you.

“Oh this? Haha! I’m not quite sure, maybe knock you out for a bit? Y’know, draw out your adeptal powers to the maximum potential, I weaponise it, and voila! Fatui gets a new upgrade! Wonderful plan right?”

Dottore sure made it sound like no big deal, but you know that’s not all the catch. Because if it’s about your adeptal powers, then surely, the Tsarista’s intention is to-

“You’d better not do any stupid movements with your sword, yeah? It would be bad if you were to go against her highness’ orders, after all, you are her most loyal subordinate. Unless… you plan to commit treachery?” Dottore leered as your grip on the sword tightens, conflicted on what to do.

Reluctantly, you peered over to the Tsarista, who has not said a word at the impasse and tense situation between you and Dottore, silently watching everything unfold before her. The Tsarista’s glacial smile never fades as she meets your gaze, not giving you a definite response, but perhaps acknowledging Dottore’s words.

“That’s… not all there is to this, is it?” Despite your loyalty to the Tsarista, this question must be raised for your own sake. Adeptal energy has always been a rather sensitive subject to both you and the Tsarista, with you knowing that she has always wanted to utilise your mysterious powers to help her achieve her goals.

“Quite the sharp one huh? Well I suppose there’s no use beating around the bush, I’ll do you the favour in telling you this- Your adeptal energy is to be drained completely for us to use, ahahaha!” A fit of manical laughter jolted through him, his atrocious appearance matching his abhorrent personality.

“And that would leave me...vulnerable and powerless?” The appalling smirk that makes you want to throw up, the messed up plan that makes you want to run away from the Tsarista’s chambers.

“B i n g o! You neither have a vision nor delusion, so without those powers, you’re pretty much useless.” Dottore approaches you, barely stopping in front of you. Lowering his voice, he mumbled into your ears, “and you’ll be thrown away by the Tsarista, officially being useless to her. I’m sure you know by now, that all her highness cares about is that adeptal energy of yours, and not you yourself?” even at such a low volume, his mockery towards you can clearly be heard.

Of course you knew, that all the Tsarista’s interested in is your mysterious powers. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out her intentions in bringing you to her nation. Even after millennia of you serving her with your utmost loyalty, all she has taken interest in is your powers.

The cold Tsarista that requested you like an object from Morax as a trade of peace, and never paid you much attention. The Tsarista who only shows you some form of affection and addresses your name when she needs you to carry out her plans. To her, it was obvious that you are a mere chess piece, for her to attain her grand goals.

Despite knowing this, you still turned your head once more towards the Tsarista, locking gazes with her, searching for something that even you yourself wasn’t sure what you’re looking for in her eyes, but to no avail, the same empty eyes with no any sort of emotion returning your disappointment. That is how little you meant to her.

It has always been, a foolish hope of yours, to believe that one day, if you stay by her side long enough, you would become a figure that holds much more place in her heart. But that has never been the case, her icy heart never had space for you, locking you out. She has enough love for all the other harbingers, all except you.

The best course of action right now, is to draw out your blade and resist against the Tsarista. You have to defend yourself, you have to get out alive and well, because you promised Zhongli, Xiao, and Ganyu to return. You have to unsheathe your sword right this instant.

But your hands remain frozen, disobeying your commands and desperate internal cries. It should be simple, to protect yourself against those who could not care less about your existence and never acknowledging you, and flee to Liyue. So why can’t you bring yourself to do so?

Because it would mean that you’re defying the person whom your loyalty is dedicated to, denying the Tsarista’s ambitions.

The same Tsarista who ripped you apart from your family, but also the one who gave you a new identity, and a new place to call home, giving you a reason to live on by serving her.

And you who watched over her carefully throughout your lifetime; when she became obsessed with the idea of bringing down celestia, to the point where delusions are invented just for the sole purpose of resisting against the sacred land where gods are rumoured to reside.

You never found out the reason behind her obstinacy in bringing down celestia, but you stayed beside her long enough to witness her desire for power and authority to continue to expand into a bottomless abyss, and the times when she struggled.

Times when her immature plans backfired, times she felt livid and Snezhnaya would be in raging blizzards for weeks, times when she doubted her own decisions. You were always there, by her side and ready to jump into action whenever she needed you to.

Through trial and error, she learned to develop well thought-out plans after calculations and taking precautionary measures, and recruited talented individuals. The harder she falls, the higher she bounces. She was undeniably a dazzling existence to you.

The Tsarista is a blinding lone star that continues to glisten even if other stars have faded, showing its resistance towards the devouring night sky. Someone so cruel and brutal, yet ever so resplendent, that you couldn’t peel your eyes off her.

A star that defies the night sky.

And you, who only knew how to live under orders and pretty much lived a tedious life besides carrying out Fatui duties, are dull and have long succumbed to darkness.

So how could you deny her? The one who never faltered, the flames of ambition that refuses to die out no matter what? You couldn’t bring yourself to betray her even at this very moment, because you have watched over her for far too long.

“This turned out to be rather...disappointing.” Seeing you loosening your grip on the sword and putting down your defenses, Dottore scoffs.

You take a sharp inhale, making up your mind. Regretfully, your decision is to stay loyal to the Tsarista and faithfully do as she wishes up until the very end. A very foolish decision even you are aware of, and one that makes your heart scream in agony knowing that you’re once again being thrown away. Even so, this is the path you have chosen.

Drained, you felt. It felt as if your powers erupted all at once, and got sucked dry by a vacuum cleaner and left to die on the road. Your role as the twelfth harbinger has been dismissed, now just an identity-less wanderer. The Tsarista truly is a cruel person, you thought, to just throw you out and let you crawl away all by your own whilst surrounded by nothing but coldness and snow, knowing that you right now are incredibly weak and vulnerable. She didn’t even have someone to escort you to a shelter, simply took away your harbinger identification with the usual eerie smile.

But archons do you feel horrible, dizzy and nauseous, on the verge of passing out. Now that you’ve lost your place, where would you go? Tired, cold and nowhere to go, you lean on a nearby bark to grab a hold of yourself, trying figure out what to do from now on.

Slumping down and shutting your eyes, you are forced to face your own emotions that you have repressed in the Tsarista’s chambers. Your heart aches so much, the strong pulsations being the only thing resounding in your ears, it hurts more than how your body is right now.

What a pathetic destiny you face, to be thrown away whom you trusted and served twice in your lifetime. It hurts so much, your heart continuously screams to you, not forgiving the way you hurt it so severely. So pathetic, you are so pathetic, you thought.

Even after millennia, you still never found a place you truly belonged to, your miserable and pathetic self was not accepted anywhere. You know very well the Tsarista has always been using you, yet facing the harsh reality is not as easy as you thought.

Wouldn’t it be better if the abyss consumed you? To be embraced by darkness and vanish, not having to face pointless emotions and drama? If only your eyes never opened back from the first time you dirtied your own hands, and instead swallow by the cold and hungry arms of demise- if you only died back then, would you still have to face such circumstances?

“...Hey, comrade.” a light whisper of a familiar voice enters your ears, dragging you back from your thoughts. You looked up at the one who called for you, only to find your vision blurry and cheeks feeling wet and cold. You didn’t even realise droplets of tears had trickled down your cheeks, you are even surprised that you’re capable of crying, you hadn’t shed a tear, let alone cry out loud for so long that you had forgotten how it felt.

Childe crawls closer, slowly wrapping you into a warm hug and gently strokes you on the head like how he has treats his siblings. You feel embarrassed to be comforted by someone much younger than you and being treated like a child, but returned the hug nonetheless. Not knowing how much you needed a hug, you find his embrace to be pleasant and safe.

“There’s a ship heading to Liyue, so let’s get you home to where it’s warm and safe, yeah?” Home, Childe said, you wanted to retort, but somehow ‘home’ and ‘Liyue’ just sounded right. Is it okay if you return there? To seek asylum?

“Come on comrade, it’d be devastating if you missed the ride!” slumping your weak arms over his shoulders and a hand on your waist to support you, lifting you onto your feet to lead you to the harbour.

“I-I’m sorry for what happened, and that I...I couldn’t help you. If I had known what Dottore was scheming, I would have talked to the Tsarista and convince her not to adopt such a brutal method.” His cheery voice is replaced by one with remorse, avoiding your eyes.

“I didn’t know Dottore came up with such an outrageous method, the Tsarista didn’t inform us of her plan! I- I should’ve known Dottore was up to no good! I could’ve done something-” Getting agitated, his speech hastens and stumbles over his own words.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, you know it’s not your fault.” You cut him off, giving him a soft slap on the back. “The Tsarista had such plans a long time ago, she just...never found the right methods until today, I guess.”

Somehow, it only made Childe feel even worse, guilt and sympathy all shown on his face.

“Come on, where’s your usual jolly self? A gloomy expression doesn't suit you at all. Teucer and Tonia will be worried for their #1 toymaker of Snezhnaya.” you mustered a feeble smile, assuring him that you’re fine.

“Well, never thought I’d hear you crack a joke after all these years…” Childe’s lips curve into a relieved and playful smile. Although, you have to admit, it does makes you feel better knowing that he’s worried for you.

“This is the Crux, you might’ve seen their crew around Liyue before. I spoke with the captain, and it’s a huge relief that she accepted our request!” You and Childe stumbled into the guest room that is kindly lent to you, with Childe immediately helping you get on the bed and wrapping you in blankets.

“You had a not-so-pleasant eventful day, it’s best if you warm up and rest now. I can’t go back with you, but I’ve contacted Zhongli, he should be there to pick you up when you arrive.” with a soft tone, Childe picks up your hand and gently strokes your palms, taking a note of your pale complexion, you remind him of his siblings when they were sick. He turns to leave you alone, about to close the door.

“Hey, Childe?” He abruptly stops and turns back to you with a concerned look, worried if you’re still feeling unwell and perhaps he could help.

“Thank you.” but only two simple words came out of your mouth. So simple and short, but more than enough to convey the gratitude and respect you held for him.

Childe breaks into a beaming smile, “Of course! We’re friends after all, right comrade? I think I’m even your best friend!” to which you chuckled. Yeah, you suppose he isn’t wrong on that.

Just before he closes the door completely, he halts and opens his mouth, “Teucer adored your gift, he and Tonia wanted to prepare something in return… I’ll bring it to you next time, yeah? And perhaps drink tea too at Zhongli’s?”

“Yes, I shall look forward to dear Teucer and Tonia’s gift then, it’s a promise.” You feel your consciousness slip away, closing your eyes and replying to Childe with a light smile on your face.

“It’s a promise!” He enthusiastically replied, only to realise he should tone it down to let you sleep in peace. “Sweet dreams, comrade.” Just before passing out on your bed, you hear Childe’s almost inaudible reply and a click on the door shutting close.

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doberbutts · 2 years ago

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HOWEVER things that I’ve seen complaints about that seem silly and I’m not touching the racism currently because I’ve been harping on it for like a week now.

Galadriel jumping out of the boat and swimming back across what is effectively the Atlantic ocean seems silly until you remember she crossed the Helcaraxe on foot and that’s basically an ice bridge across said Atlantic ocean. Like yeah my first thought was “girl you are in open water tf you gunna do now without a boat” but at the same time like. She’s been in worse situations and made it out tbh. Elves are made of tough stuff and we see this even with the power of the elves waning by the time of LOTR with Legolas being mostly unbothered by various events along the fellowship’s journey that left others exhausted. And he’s not even Noldor like Galadriel.

Speaking of elf clans idk where Celeborn is and thus where Celebrian is but personally I didn’t view her interactions with Elrond as flirting? Old friends, friends who know each other hideously well (esp if you consider Elrond can see the future and Galadriel can read minds I’m sure they’re going for the “finish each other’s sentences on an eerie level” type of relationship). Also they canonically get along really well especially once Elrond and Celebrian get hitched in the Third Age so it’s not like she ever really voiced dislike of him either- she even lives in Rivendell for a long time before settling down with the hubby in Lothlorien. Their relationship isn’t yet that of what it was by LOTR but also they’re missing a huge amount of personal and political events that happened in the like 5000+ years inbetween hold your horses.

Galadriel IS proud, she is described as being incredibly proud and strong and fierce several times. Boromir specifically says he and most of Gondor fear her. He dislikes the time he spends in Lothlorien because he’s afraid of her powers and because the elf/human relationship has always been very strained. Humans don’t like elves and are largely intimidated by or resentful of them outside of a spare few. Elves find humans to be beneath them. This is established over and over. Legolas plays nice with Aragorn but fires back at multiple high-ranking humans. Galadriel’s company had a less than warm welcome for the fellowship despite knowing who they were and liking a few members of their crew. This is established Tolkien lore where distrust between humans and elves was furthered by Morgoth and Sauron, but not invented by them. Elves have always been fairly elitist and there’s even passages about elves hunting dwarves for sport, elves deliberately screwing dwarves out of fair deals, elves making enemies with human kingdoms just because, etc. Galadriel hovering between proud and actively hostile when talking to humans or even elves she views as beneath her is just peak Noldor behavior in complete honesty. She was nice to the fellowship after letting her men threaten to kill them a few times.

AND this “she was never a warrior” thing is BS. She participated in the kinslayings. She was known for her strong magic. She was nicknamed “man-maiden” because she was so tomboyish. It’s absolutely ridiculous to have read all of that and think she can only be what she was shown to be in the PJ movies, at a mere fraction of her power and might, compared to when she was actively involved in the politics of the world instead of hanging out in a treehouse with her husband.

AND she was always obsessive about Sauron, refusing to trust him even when he was at his most “no don’t hurt me I’m a totally trustworthy guy just a poor little meowmeow” and alerting everyone to watch out for him even when they laughed her off. That’s not an Amazon invention, that’s just a Galadriel thing.

And this weird “I can’t believe Harfoots just leave people behind if they get injured/lost” look idk what to tell you, that’s nomadic life when you’re little and everything wants to kill you. Do your best to stay together but you will be left behind and we will not look for you if we get separated. Hobbits in general are distrusting of the world of the Big Folk and they’re literally like 3 feet tall with the exception of very few, meaning even a large dog running loose could easily hurt or kill them. We saw in the very first episode that straying too far from the others can lead to wolves and other unsavory things killing you, we know for a fact that even thousands of years later in the Shire it’s just expected that if you leave the Shire something will pick you off. Hell, just remember that Bilbo’s relatives had just basically shrugged and assumed he was dead and started taking his stuff because he took too long coming back from his adventure. That’s established lore my dudes.

People complaining that the elves look middle aged also look really silly when Hugo Weaving didn’t exactly look young in the role of Elrond and neither did Marton Csokas or Craig Parker. Yes, Celebrimbor’s actor does have a lot of lines and wrinkles on his face and yes, it makes him look older. But that’s also just his face, because looking at younger photos of him he still has sunken eyes, a prominent brow, and lines on his face. At some point y’all have to decide if you care more about traditional beauty standards for men or accepting that some people’s faces just look like that. Same with Elrond’s actor, yeah his jaw juts out a bit and he also has a strong brow, and that’s also just what his face looks like, either accept that real people do indeed have some variations in facial structure and that shouldn’t affect their ability to portray beautiful characters, or admit that you’re more addicted to traditional, eurocentric beauty standards than you’re willing to let on.

Costuming’s fine. Some little details will annoy longtime fans (hello why are non-Feanorians wearing the Feanorian star just because they’re elves) but will be completely missed by newcomers. It’s less detailed in some aspects than the PJ movies which is a shame because of the huge production budget but I wouldn’t say anything looks like plastic or cardboard or like it came out of a Spirit Halloween. Same with the CG- there’s yucky bits here and there with the CG but overall it’s been better than the Hobbit movies, which I know is a low bar but people are taking PJ as gospel right now. Accents is a valid complaint but lbr it’s largely lost on an American audience and most of us have needed to have it pointed out to us, don’t lie. And don’t act like that’s not coming direct from the source either- y’all loved the PJ movies and they’re guilty of the same thing.

The dialogue complaint is weird to me because it’s largely accepted within universe that elves speak solely in allegory and riddle (Bilbo directly says this to Elrond in PJ’s Hobbit trilogy in an extended scene) and so Finrod deciding that he’s going to sound smart by saying stones look downwards or whatever is, again, peak Noldor behavior. Elves just do that. Wizards do too, we just haven’t met any [official] wizards yet [tbh I think the Stranger is a wizard, idk just which one yet because any could fit the current description], or do we not remember Aragorn’s “there goes Gandalf talking in riddles yet again” and Frodo’s “for a dude pretending to be A Regular Guy, you use a lot of doublespeak”? It’s Tolkien, of course there’s going to be allegory and riddle where there didn’t need to be, that’s like 80% of the prophecies and misunderstandings in the books guys. The Hobbits and dwarves stand out because they’re the only people who speak plainly, and they’re largely regarded as rude for doing so.

And Rs get rolled sorry. Orlando Bloom’s Legolas was doing the same shit (”a Balrrrrrrog of Morrrrrrrrgoth”), it’s just that he’s a singular elf the story’s not technically about and thus you don’t notice it as much because it’s just him. Now that we’re surrounded by elves and two of our main characters are elves, you’re gunna hear it all the time.

ALSO it’s super bizarre to me that people are on one hand complaining that it’s not like the PJ movies enough, but then on the other hand are complaining when things are very similar to the PJ movies saying they “ripped off” PJ’s vision. Well which one is it? Are you unhappy that it’s not like the PJ adaptions or are you unhappy that it holds some similarities? I get that y’all wanted PJ to help with this but honestly there were complaints about the PJ movies too that y’all are just pretending didn’t exist.

ALSOOOOO I keep seeing people complain that the orcs aren’t supposed to be like vampires wrt the sun??? Uh. Again, did we read the same books? Orcs can’t move in the open in sunlight, it hurts them and burns their flesh. Not on-fire-turn-to-ash vampire lore “burns their flesh” but it’s absolutely a thing that orcs cannot spend long amounts of time in the sun and literally that’s why A: Mordor has a permanent dark cloud of ash and dust over its sky to allow the orcs and goblins and everything else to move freely even in the daytime and B: Saruman and Sauron bred Uruks from orcs to create a larger, stronger, more intelligent, orcish creature that could move in daylight because it was easier to use them by the time of LOTR. There’s a lot of suggestion that Uruks are crossbred orcs (aka super fucked up elves) and humans (mostly of the enemy bad-guys-only POC-dominant races) though there’s some argument over that. Either way, yeah orcs are supposed to flee at sunrise and it’s supposed to hurt them to be out in broad daylight. Multiple times as the climax of LOTR swells people express surprise that orcs are moving in huge packs and in broad daylight, because this is not normal orcish behavior.

ANNNNND the warg is supposed to look really fucked up, same as orcs. They’re not really new living creatures but fucked up versions of already existing creatures. Orcs are fucked up elves. Wargs are fucked up wolves. Balrogs are fucked up wizards. Dragons are fucked up eagles. And so on. The forces of evil could not create new life, only corrupt what already existed. So the warg having a really fucked up face and that includes the really inbred chihuahua look? Yeah they’re not supposed to look like Wolves But Bigger, they’re supposed to look like really fucked up wolfish creatures. Again, for everyone saying “read the Silmarillion”, it really feels like y’all haven’t read it with some of these complaints.

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carmasi · 2 years ago

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Mercenary For Hire: Legend of a Icy scale

Kyrius keeper, was a warlock, after she was rescue by her father and the man whom she thought was her previous lover, but turned out to be Noah, the Archbishop whom seem to be obsessed with her to a point were a glamor spell caused him to seek her out when she was staying in Alberta for a while “I’m sorry” she apologize as she hugged a Biochemist with green hair who smile sadly and shook her head in denial “ it’s okay” she answer as she took off. Kyrius smiles sadly, the woman who just left was her wife, well ex wife. During her altercation with Noah Lim the biochemist had come to her aid, she was already a good friend, but their friendship grew too close to something she had confused with love and Lim seemed to have been looking at someone else as well, when she saw Kyrius. Kyrius sighs sadly as she waved and saw her disappear in the crowd.

Over the next couple of month she was determine to change, to do something different, she had given up on that which people called love and despite Noah still pestering her over his affection for her she just couldn't’ feel anything for him or anyone at this point, she still was her normal self and her bright smile personality never change , but she was loveless. She had dedicated her time to being nothing but a good warlock, and a great adventurer, she took quest after quest to keep herself busy. She had gotten Runes on her body after all, as a high wizard to improve her elemental mastery, to the point where it was a piece of cake for her to involve a storm. But somehow she was still looked down upon; she still doubted her ability, and who wouldn't when your mother is the poster child for curiosity and invention, a Sorcerer who assisted and was the second most trusted advisor to the king. Now she knew how Saya felt. She sighed, seated at the Bar as she went over their current quest list available.

“If you’re looking for a quest some citizens in Rachel were impressed with your storm feast last, they may want to hire you again” the barkeep quipped as he cleaned one of the beer mugs she looked up at the gentleman with a kind smile. She had taken on that request upon a comment from a dear friend of hers, a high wizard as well “Thanks!” The man blushed, who could even resist Kyrius Keeper Smile? She took on the quest and made her way to Rachel on the airship. Having some rain come from the sky wasn’t hard anymore, just a combination of wind and water magic. The quest was finished quickly as she then made her way back to Rachel’s Inn where she was staying. Compared to any other place this was a little too spiffy, though the citizens were grateful to her “thank you~” she smiled at the counter boy as he handed over a key to her room. She sighed, tomorrow would be a new day and she’ll have to head back to Prontera.

The following afternoon as Kyrius got ready to take the airship back to Izlude and then travel back to her Prontera home, she made a stop “Hey gramps~” she cheered the man that was standing at the corner of the main plaza outside of the Rachel Inn “ Oh Kyrius, have you come to get me some of those wonderful Glaciar hearts” Kyrius smile as she nodded and looked on her bag “sure am, though you’re the one who’s giving me a good price for them” she explained as she rustle to get the item requested “ oh yes yes” he cheered as he completed the transaction, though he sigh “something the matter gramps?” she asked as she noticed the man “ oh ? I can’t ever get anything past you child huh?” she smiled comforting “if there is anything I can help with i’d be glad” she replied he shook his head “ oh no sweetheart you’re a great adventurer but that which I seek is too rare and too dangerous to obtain” Kyrius was intrigue “ really?” she asked, she has been trying to better herself and sharpen her skills “ do tell?” she asked.

“Well you see, deep within the ice caves, lives a creature of ice, which scales are told to be nothing but crystal, so thin they are almost transparent and yet so strong and cold as a freeze of winter, they never melt and unlike the glacial hearts which I get from you it is said to be safe to hold with your bare hands” Kyrius listened to the man as he spoke “ I dreamed to get my hand on at least one of those scales, but this creature is quite powerful, even the best adventure struggle to face it” Kyrius raised a brown “ a creature in Ice cave which has scales as thin and cold… uhm.. I haven’t heard of such a creature… I will have to investigate.. If I can help no doubt I will, and I will bring back one of those scales” she smiled as she departed and made her way to Juno instead, where she needed to check out some library books.

#oc stuff ragnarok online stories OC STORIES carmasi kyrius keeper

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sugar-petals · 3 years ago

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Hi :") I would like to ask which footballers are at the top of your mind when it comes to being "masters of duality" (aka being cute at one moment and suddenly being hot at another)? cause there are quite a number of players who fall quite strictly into either categories, like we think of some of them as being helplessly cute and adorable, and others as being just hot and making people feel nsfw all the time jsdjsjdkl,,,thanks!

as a personal tradition i keep up with chelsea and bayern so i can name you a couple representatives from there. let's #gossip 🕵

- manuel neuer:

baddie body baby face, v chill... blink once and manuel’s acting up, rapid fire comebacks on live television, sobs instantly and needs to hug his plushie when he concedes a goal, goes full mike tyson on any living man who challenges the fruit-tastic sex appeal of our german lgbteam, the next minute blondie causes drama scandals thirst and chaos, ironically when you listen to him u wanna fall asleep, can actually levitate, cutesy simpatico type who’s 1000% mad, morbidly obsessed with sticking out his ass, is 7'11, truly multifaceted and thoroughly untrustworthy himbo hoe, out of his mind, you do you manuel, we love your waist just stay at a distance, his duality scares the whole nation

- jorgiiiiiiinho:

contrary to his congenially clownish vibes —and they truly are remarkable— jorgeyboy has some ice cold penalty skills (i'm starting to believe not even a magnitude 11 earthquake could throw off his edgy run jump kick technique) and he organizes the entire team strategy cuz he can hashtag mastermind! but off the pitch he has the most inexplicable kitten-like hand gestures and sailor moon level hip poses lmao! there he is, with a beard like a french vice count, and then he acts like he's the brazilian version of pusheen (thx for still serving catboy realness in 2022). needless to say i'm fascinated, jorginho is the manic pixie dream boy i always wanted. stay quirky u bottom

- robert lewandowski: very kind, very lactose-free, and extremely um, he loves a silly little dance, lewy invented cringe before it was cool, not that we should flame him for it but anyway loves. managed to get that one "🌸 tiktok's favorite 🌸" award (INSTEAD OF THE F/$§%&G BALLON D'OR), and then oh i almost forgot: he's also a notorious record goal scoring robot with torso muscles in places u never even knew existed, 999 years old and still wants to go to real madrid, total bookworm introvert but rides the jetski, has the only working marriage on the planet, is a leo, it all just doesn't fit together, but yeah we're gonna win the champions league because of his tiktok dance moves just wait. lewy is always embarrassing us trying to act trendy but he makes up for it with records

- reece james: the only non-ridiculous speciman on this list, i think he's like a cute smiley teddy bear who couldn't harm a fly but the next second u notice all over again just how painfully thicc he is head to toe LIKE WHAT, LIKE WHAT!!!, serge gnabry would be so amazingly proud of all the cakey cake that reecey is baking, and ofc he has that intense sexy bedroom gaze during free kicks, the next second you find out he plays online chess with ben chilwell in his free time lmao i love it, why the hell is he a sagittarius how does that work, did somebody tell him he's sending all these mixed messages? the most confusing duality out there, get well soon baby bun by the way he's dearly missed, and talk about buns: this was the cutest insta post i’ve ever seen below

- kai havertz: there we go again talking about the moody asparagus noodle that doesn’t like pineapple on pizza but alright he’s goodlooking so let’s go, whenever he runs around u ask yourself... is... is this sexyman okay? did someone wave a giant wreath of garlic in front of the weak habsburgian vampire prince? then suddenly he's the most clingy dog dad joke machine alive. tallest in the room but still hides behind his girlfriend or climbs up julian brandt when he's shy, scores the champions league winning goal but breaks his little finger in the carabao cup (get well soon babu), strips on insta one second and takes care of his donkey barn the next, boy toy but make it rural i guess, vain adonis with a flat ass, 90% stupid but his hair has its own gravitational intelligence, has several dualites and i hate it, at least he's always standing around being useless and handsome with his eyes squinty (is he shortsighted? even more sexy points)

BONUS: kings of anti-duality - n'golo kanté. no matter what — always wise and always nice :D someone could go full throttle pep guardiola 'pep' talk on him and he'll just mysteriously giggle. cuz why: n’-goal-o values his time, his life, his happiness, and simply winning. loving the consistency. loving the attitude. loving the smile. hurt him and i’ll destroy you

- toni kroos: full time dedicated hater of everything & everyone, an interview w/o kroosie nagging = not an interview, most relatable unrelatable person ever, emotional honesty 5000, if a dramatic villain origin story was a person, twitter thug mode dragon slayer, outcritiques timo werner and the german press, probably listens to ice cube, would attack call out and defeat god

- serge gnabry: category is! sergio's same sarcastic grind 365; try to impress him and you will fail miserably, serge sees through all the bs don’t even try, either busy cooking modelling or fistfighting leroy sané's bullies as they deserve, with serge you always know what you're getting, grew up watching vintage shonen anime what did you expect that builds actual real character. he’s the anti-ronaldo, we should congratulate him on it

- thomas müller: sigh. he’s been doing this for so long we all know the drill... it doesn't matter the situation... full throttle late night bavarian comedy programme mode it just never stops, he's so exhausting and over the top but we all depend on it what do we do, least two-faced person on earth, froze his character since he was like 12, how do his managers survive him, he outlives all of them anyway, zero debate on that he’s football’s funniest manchild

#football #football memes

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gl0rious-purpose · 3 years ago

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Exciting and Fast Things (Loki x TVA!Reader)

Summary: Life at the TVA was boring. Of course, Loki had to be the one to spice up life there, specifically yours.

Word Count: 3214 Words

Author's Note: There is implied sexual content and light swearing, but there's not really a lot of details.

The TVA. The infamous Time Variance Authority. It was the only thing you had known since you were born. Or at least you were taught that. A man by the name of Mobius M. Mobius, who was obsessed with jet skis, had raised you as his daughter. He was kind, gentle, and very much dad material. You never really went to school, the knowledge just magically showed up as you got older. While you got older, your dad had discovered a variant. The variant had been killing minute men all across the timeline, causing a huge disruption in workflow.

The disruption mostly affected you. You worked as a file keeper and you had to constantly keep updating files as the minute men and women were killed and new ones were trained and brought in, minds clearly wiped. Well, in a sense. As far as you know, you were the only one who had been their your whole life, besides Mobius and Ravonna.

While you were working one day, an alarm started going off. It was on that didn't go off as often, but it piqued your interest. The light would flash whatever color an identified variant radiated. This one radiated green. Those who radiated green tended to be perfectionists, analytical, conceptual, cool, calm, inventive and logical. They could even be mischievous. The green ones were always rare, or at least that's what you thought. You've never met one. Well, that was until Mobius had identified the variant killing all personnel.

It was a Loki variant. Out of curiosity, you looked up the Loki variants on your computer. Most of the variants you saw were apparently "pruned." The one they had identified apparently was unlisted because you couldn't find on that was female, but seeing that all of them were fluid with sex and gender, you thought they had just shifted to a different form. As you scrolled through the files, one caught your eye. Loki Laufeyson, Timeline: 2012. You pulled the file up and scanned it. 2012? There's no way they're here now. As you read further, you found the status area. In bright red lettering read 'In Process Of Capture.'

Your thin brows furrowed lightly before returning back to their relaxed position. We capture them? You inquired mentally, not wanting a response. You shook it all off before closing down all the files and clearing the history. That was the number one rule when it came to computers in the TVA. You log in, get the information you require, and then you would clear out without a trace. You truly hated it, but it wasn't your place to complain about an extremely reasonable rule. Closing the area completely and locking it, you stared into the now dark area. I wonder if I'll ever meet on of these green Loki variants. You mused mentally, sighing as your keys bounced against your thigh as you made your way to your shared apartment with Mobius.

Several Months Later...

Months had passed since the Loki variant was identified. You've never seen your dad more excited than that moment. Well, besides when he met you and he got new jet ski magazines. You only got them because they made him happy, but you were more into motorcycles. Running the risk of getting thrown off an open bike at high speed just appealed to you. Maybe you liked the idea of it. Or maybe it was the thrill. One of these days, you were determined to ride one at least.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

A week ago, the minute personnel was able to capture the 2012 Loki variant. While The Avengers going back in time to break the timeline was fate, Loki escaping with the tesseract was not. You stood by the docking bay, waiting eagerly to see the green variant. Your dad had been so excited about this, he wanted you to be there. He wanted you to see that all the hard work paid off. Of course, you had to stay in a corner, far out of harm's way. As the portal open up, the minute personnel pushed the variant through. Your breathing faltered as you took him in. He was menacing, but in a good way. He was extremely tall. If he were to stand by you, he would've loomed over you like a giant. The idea made you shiver, not with anxiety, but with.. anticipation. You wanted that to happen.

A loud clink caused you to focus back in on what was happening. The personnel was unlocking his chains, leaving his mouth guard for last. As they dropped the chains, they looked at the guard before deciding to leave it on until they got to booking. You stared intensely at the variant. The almost viridian green suit flattered his form quite well. Instinctively, your mouth turned up into a smirk at his appearance, eyes flickering to the sudden movement. Mobius had walked up to the variant, clearly pleased with himself.

"Loki Laufeyson. Glad you could be here." Mobius spoke courtly to him, which caused the man in front of him to roll his eyes. If you didn't know Mobius, you would've thought he would've pruned him right there and then at the action. But that's the thing – you did know him. Mobius would rather work along side this variant and understand him better in person than removing him from the timeline completely. Mobius gave a smile and stepped aside to let the guards through. They walked swiftly, afraid that Loki might try something while not locked up. You staring must've been felt because suddenly his eyes flickered over to your location. If you weren't mistaken, you could've swore you saw a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes. Once he was out of sight, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Oh my god...You couldn't help, but mentally swooned over the variant. You had to manually take care of your breathing as you tried to compose yourself as Mobius came over, huge smile plastered on his face.

"Wasn't that awesome?!" Mobius spoke in a breathy voice, overwhelmed by the encounter. You shot him a small grin, happy that he finally got what he wanted. He pulled you into a huge, bear hug, rocking you back and forth. Mobius pulled away, pressed a kiss to your forehead. He shot you a toothy grin before glancing at one of his own personnel. They gave him some type of gesture, you believe it was to indicate that the variant was ready to be interviewed and he nodded before looking back at you.

"Well, I better go over the variant's history. I'll send my findings up to be filed in a bit." You barely nodded at him before you saw him basically run out of there to get to the interview room. Back against the wall, you stood there for a couple minutes. You would've spoken to Mobius instead of giving simple gestures, but it felt like Loki had stolen your voice. Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself off of the wall and walked out of the docking bay to the files room.

As you got settled in and started to dive into your work, your mind kept wandering to the variant. He was just so hypnotizing and he had you spellbound. Without moving your head, your eyes glanced up at the personnel walking by as you remember somewhere in the file that said his mother – well, adopted mother – had taught him magic. Had he casted an incantation on you? You pondered on this for a while before rolling your eyes.

"We all know magic is incapable of use here." You muttered, internally scolding yourself at the thought. You reached over to grab a file you had to digitize and placed it in the scanner. As you watched the devices bar of light through the closed lid, you realized that you weren't going to get a moment without thinking about the variant. You groaned, sitting back in your chair as you waited for the scanning to finish. You thought this was going to be a long day like the rest. However, it was starting to change. A long day? This was going to be a long week.

Every work day went the same way, but it appeared Mobius was spending more and more time with the Loki variant. Please let Mobius get his work done with Loki. You internally pleaded this for several mornings as you watched him rush from the apartment to meet up with the God. You placed your hands on the counter as your hung your head, mentally exhausted from thinking about Loki. Maybe you should talk to him? You suggested to yourself as you took in a deep breath, looking up. As you looked up, a magazine caught your eyes. You slid your body over the counter as you reached for it, smiling at the motorcycle on the front.

"Great," you started, slightly sarcastically. "An excuse not to have to file dad's notes yet. Score!" You celebrated a little before grabbing your things and walking down to files. You were going to file those note whether you liked it or not, you were just going to make it the first thing you did. Walking out, you locked the door, juggling the items you had in your hands. As you swung your bag over your shoulder in the hall, magazine in hand, you heard minute personnel talking behind you, boots rapidly hitting the ground loudly.

"Did you hear? Mobius is actually trusting the Loki variant to roam the place." The first one spoke, clearly astonished. The other one scoffed behind you.

"I think he's definitely gonna help." The second one's snide remark made you pick up the pace a bit, eager to get away from the negativity.

"Yeah, help himself." The first guard replied in a snarky manner before they both let out demeaning giggles rang out, nauseating you. You swallowed the feeling as you picked up the pace and made it to files. Looking up at the clock on the wall, you saw you were extremely early. Maybe I can get more work done. You mused to yourself as you got the area unlocked and ready for business. Dropping into your chair, you turned on the computer and logged in. As it logged in and took you to the homescreen, you zoned out. Was Mobius really letting Loki walk around freely? You pondered on what the hunters had said, jumping at a file being dropping on the counter. You looked at the guard, who in turn looked at you apologetically, muttering a 'sorry' before scurrying off to their post. You shook your head as you grabbed the file and placed it on the scanner. By the way it was going, you could already tell it was gonna be a long work day.

As hours passed, by the fourth hour of work, you had already gotten all your work done. Even though time moves differently here, it could at least speed the fuck up. You thought, grumpily. Normally at this time, you would have more files coming. You had gotten a notification that no more files were going to come until tomorrow due to printing error. As you sat there, wondering what to do, you remembered your motorcycle magazine. Grabbing it gleefully, you eagerly started to flip through the magazine. As you read each page, you basically checked out if the world around you. In fact, you were so engrossed with the magazine, you barely noticed that Loki had walked up to the counter in front of your desk. He leaned over the desk, examining you, waiting for you to notice his presence. His eyes raked over your body, enticed with what he was seeing. You were the most ravishing person he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. Gods, the things he would do to you if he had permission. He leaned further, not realizing you hadn't seen him. After a couple minutes, he decided to clear his throat to catch your attention. The sound startled you as you quickly closed the magazine and threw it under files, looking at the person briefly. As you adjusted yourself, you did a double-take of the person leaning comfortably across from you. You gulped, hoping your sudden nervousness wasn't apparent. He gave you a smile as he caught your eyes, easing the tensions, but causing your stomach to twist into knots. A sailor's knot to be specific, and it was quite uncomfortable. You turned your body more towards him, not realizing it allowed him to take you in fully. His blue eyes flickered down before they rose slowly back to yours.

"Hello, Loki Laufeyson." You spoke slowly, hoping your voice was as steady as you tried to make it. He hummed in response, scanning your chest for a name tag.

"Hello..." His voice trailed off, realizing he couldn't find your name anywhere.

"..None of your business." You finished his sentence, wanting to mess with him before you actually let him know your name. You couldn't imagine how wide his eyes would be when he learned who your dad was. You watched him suck in his cheeks, trying to figure out how to respond. His eyes closed as he head leaned back fully, allowed your eyes to slowly trail from the underside of his jaw to the bottom of his throat. It was the strangest thing, but you thought it was attractive seeing him like that. I'd like to see that more often. You chewed on your lip as some questionable thoughts came to mind. His head fell back down, face covered with determination.

"Excuse my manners. You know my name, but I don't know yours. What is your name? A woman as ravishing as you must have a lovely name.." Loki's voice seemed to grow deeper as the sentence trailed off, flicking his out against his bottom lip as looking you up and down again, hoping you noticed. Without warning, your cheeks grew a little hot. Your eyes flickered down as you tried to make your cheeks go back to their normal hue, mentally scolding yourself. Loki smirked mischievously at your reaction. He watched your head turn back to him, ready to respond.

"It's Y/N. Y/N Mobius." You paused as you watched the gears turn in his head before his mouth formed an 'o' shape. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That was definitely not the reaction you were expecting, let alone the one you wanted.

"He talked about you. I didn't connect the dots that you were his daughter until now." Loki shrugged nonchalantly, giving you a warm, cunning smile. All you did was nod in response. Now that these foolish semantics were done, you decide to find out why he was really here.

"Anyway, why are you here?" You inquired, reaching over to clear the computer before logging off. You won't remember to do so after this conversation. You glanced over at him as he quickly put his words together.

"Well, Y/N, I came to see the prettiest person at the TVA." He stated his true intentions, watching your face intently for a reaction. As he watched you stare blankly at him, he realized you might've been oblivious to his flirting attempts. This is going to be harder than I thought. He grumbled internally, throwing a mischievous smile on.

"That would be you, darling." The nickname rolled off of Loki's silver tongue, making your stomach twist tighter. Ignoring the internal war, you have a quick smile before going back to just staring at him. Your unimpressed look threw Loki off completely. He breathed in deeply, realizing he'd have to change the subject to keep this interaction going. He needed this to work.

"Um, anyway... What were you reading? You know, before I distracted you." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, watching your eyes flicker to the finish pile of files. Sighing, you dug out the magazine and tossed onto the counter besides Loki's arms. He eyes the magazine, taking in every detail.

"It's a motorcycle magazine." You explained blatantly, knowing he knew what it was. He hummed in response before chuckling.

"Your dad likes jet skis and you like motorcycles. Huh." He pondered for a second before continuing. "How interesting." One of his brows raised as he looked up at you, intrigued.

"What can I say? We both are drawn to exciting and fast things. It's our passion." You explained, hoping Loki was going somewhere with this conversation. If he wasn't, you were very much prepared to go home and sleep. He looked down as he licked his lips, eyes peering back up at you through his brows.

"You know, I'm very exciting." Loki stopped his sentence, hoping he had captured your attention. Your attentive eyes stared back at him, head tilting slightly to the right. Make this good, Laufeyson...You internally urged him, eyes squinting slightly.

"And I can go as fast as you like." His eyes flickered to your lips before moving back up, sending you a quick wink as he laughed darkly. You laughed nervously, biting your lip as you brought your hand up to the computer, turning it off. Well, if he's interested. Loki watched you push yourself away from the computer desk, eyes dropping down to your thighs. As much as he tried to stop himself and half some self control, he stared at them, sizing you up a bit. He nodded as his eyes trailed back up your body again, this time he did it seductively, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You walked over to him slowly, hands slowly sliding up his body before settling on his chest, palm towards him. Loki watched you, eager for your next moves. You moved your right hand to grab his tie, gently tugging him towards you. Leaning your mouth up against the corner of his, the corners of your lips turning up teasingly, eyes fluttering closed.

"If you're so confident about that, let's find out." You whispered to him seductively, reaching out and biting his bottom lip. Loki growled at you, roughly grabbing your hips as he hungrily pressed his lips to yours, his tongue making it's way quickly into your own. You moaned as he continued to battle your own tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue grazed against the inside of your mouth, exploring every inch. Suddenly remembering you were out in the open, kissing a variant, you pulled away for air. As you briskly locked everything up, leaving the magazine on the counter, you grabbed Loki's wrist and dragged him back to the shared apartment. You looked behind, winking at him before he hurried to walk beside you, slipping an arm around your waist. The slyness? The mischief? The analytical skills? Loki was without a doubt a green variant, and you were sure his personal skills were going to keep proving that.

You weren't entirely sure of what was going to happen tonight, but you were very eager to let it happen. You just hoped Mobius was so busy talking shop with Ravonna that he wouldn't be coming home.

You can also read this fic here <3

#Loki #Loki One Shot #TVA #TVA AU #Marvel AU #Marvel One Shots #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Mobius M. Mobius #Angst #Light Fluff #Implied Smut

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 4 years ago

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Chapter Two of See You in the Morning Time

The third in a Rafael Barba/Reader/Frederick Chilton threesome verse written in collaboration with @pascalispretty . Gif by @mrsrafaelbarba . Yep. We did this. Was it necessary? No. Did we enjoy it? Sometimes. Are you going to read it? I sure hope you do and that you like it! Cross posted to ao3!

Part Three of the series So Much Easier than You Realize

Chapter One: A Different Feeling Entirely Chapter Two: Show Me the New

Warnings: Frederick being an anxious (and sad. and repressed) little weenie, discussions of period typical homophobia, bi panic, completely invented backstory (you got on this ride folks lol), Rafael being surprisingly supportive, cuddling, and of course a little bit of teasing Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 2293 Summary: It's not often that Fred instigates anything with Rafael except an argument.

It’s late by the time Fred and Rafael finally make their way to bed. They shower and put pajamas on while waiting for the food to arrive and once they eat, they finish the bottle of wine that Fred had opened earlier and spend the rest of the evening chatting and watching some dumb movie on TV.

Lying in Fred’s bed in his borrowed clothes, Rafael can’t help but smile to himself. After weeks of skittishness from Fred he had finally made it past some of the walls that the doctor had put up. Fred curled close to Rafael while they watched the movie, dragging a blanket over the two of them and cozying up entirely unprompted.

When Fred comes out of the bathroom and flicks the lights off, he’s even more pleased that Fred doesn’t seem to hesitate to lie close to him in bed or reach out for his hand.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Rafael murmurs, to break the silence more than anything. He hears Fred scoff.

“I was hardly going to kick you out as soon as we were done.” As best as he can, Rafael turns on his side trying to make Fred out in the darkness of the room.

“I know. I just wasn’t sure how you’d feel.” He’s not at his most eloquent or subtle, but he wants to acknowledge what happened between them. “You were… hesitant at first and I just want to make sure you didn’t feel like you had to do this. As of a few days ago you were still pretty clear that you were not comfortable with the two of us having sex.”

Rafael doesn’t want to force a confidence, but he feels like he has to make sure. He’s coming to care too deeply about the arrogant chronically awkward man next to him to just let this go with vague assurances. He hears Fred shift onto his back and wants nothing more than to drag him into his arms and kiss his stupid, conceited face, but he holds himself still and waits for Fred to answer him, giving him the space he clearly wants.

“This wasn’t as sudden as you think it was,” Fred assures him eventually, face still pointed at the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about this since, you know, that first time.” Rafael can practically feel Fred’s blush from his side of the bed and grins. “And my reticence was never about you, you know that, yes?”

Rafael nods, realizes Fred probably can’t see him, and clears his throat.

“Yeah, I figured as much. I am, after all, a damn catch.”

Rafael yelps as Fred reaches out, faster than he thought was possible for a well-fed psychiatrist who sits behind a desk all day, and smacks him on the chest.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, together in the dark cocoon of Fred’s bedroom, before Rafael sighs. He can’t help but notice the similarities between the blank peacefulness of Fred’s minimalist design and the deliberately organized calm of a therapist’s office and wonders if he did that on purpose. Maybe it’s a natural inclination, he muses idly. It invites honesty. The sharing of secrets.

“I’m only eighteen months younger than Benn, you know,” Fred says eventually, and it’s so unexpected that Rafael finds himself frowning a little in confusion. “All the way through school, I was Bennett Chilton’s younger brother; just the little brother of the handsome quarterback that everyone adored.” Rafael has seen photos of Bennett, tall and painfully handsome. He can see that it might have been hard to grow up in that shadow.

“He came out when he was sixteen, and I was fourteen. And I’m sure you can imagine what that was like at an all-boys Catholic school in Virginia in the eighties.” Rafael winces in the dark. He remembers well enough the attitudes in his own high school, in marginally more liberal New York. He can’t imagine what it must have been like in a place without a visible community to look up to.

“People were mostly smart enough not to say anything to Benn’s face--he was a six foot two starter who never backed down from a fight, they would have had to have been stupid--and our parents were supportive. But the things people said about him behind his back--” Fred shudders, an involuntary shiver that makes Rafael want to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

Instead, he just squeezes Fred’s hand reassuringly and waits for him to continue. For someone who has trouble shutting up at the very best of times--staying silent isn’t Rafael’s forte--he is doing an admirable job tonight. His desire to prove he’s worthy of this unexpected vulnerability from Fred is more than enough to keep him quiet. Rafael is desperate to know more, to know everything about Fred; about what makes him tick, about why he was so reticent, so reserved, when clearly this is something that he enjoys.

“It was awful. The kind of things you never want to hear about somebody you love. And I was hardly in any position to be giving out bloody noses or black eyes whenever someone called him a fag, or made some crack about AIDS.” Rafael shifts slightly nearer, still not saying anything. He smiles to himself when he feels one of Fred’s hands reach up to rest on Rafael’s hip.

“I was a short, scrawny child--I spent a lot of time in the hospital and home sick--and I couldn’t afford to give the other boys in my school one more reason to pick on me so I just… didn’t say anything. I’m not proud of it, but it’s not like Benn had any trouble sticking up for himself. I doubt he would have appreciated anyone stealing his opportunity to get into one more fight anyways.”

Rafael covers the hand Fred has on his hip with his own, deciding now is not the time to joke that he can’t ever imagine Fred as scrawny. Fred clears his throat again and continues in the same calm, rehearsed manner. Like this is something that he witnessed happening to someone else.

“It wasn’t long after that that I had my own month of absolute pure terror and confusion. It was one of Bennett’s teammates from the swim team that actually sent me over the edge. His name was Bobby and he was gorgeous. He had never made any jokes about Bennett, never joked about changing somewhere else in the locker room. He was a little stupid, I can admit that now, but back then I thought he was perfect. I worshipped my brother and this pretty boy clearly did the same.

“Well, I was horrified. Up until then I had been fully and completely in love with a girl I had known practically since infancy. Was all of that a lie? Was being gay genetic? Was Billy going to go through the same thing? It took me a whole month before I had the guts to ask Bennett and I nearly stabbed him with our father’s letter opener when he laughed at me.”

Rafael winces again, knowing how touchy Fred is now, a grown adult well-respected in his professional field and still a little obsessed with slights, perceived and real. Fred huffs, forcing any trace of bitterness out of his voice.

“He told me that you can like girls and boys at the same time and that I should go see if I still liked jerking off to pictures of Jennifer Connolly.” Rafael isn’t able to suppress his snort.

“I always liked Carrie Fisher,” he tells Fred, smiling over at him.

“You would, you pervert,” Fred shoots back. “Probably loved that bikini, didn’t you?”

“I think I’ll plead the Fifth on that one.”

Fred shakes his head and sighs deeply.

“Well, naturally, that was enough humiliation for me for one afternoon and so I threw a throw pillow at him and bolted for my room.”

“Did you jerk off to Jennifer Connolly?”

“Rafael, I can still kick you out of this apartment.”

“Sorry.” Rafael is silent for all of twelve seconds before he asks again, “Come on Fred, I’ve got to know; did you?”

“...Maybe,” Fred reluctantly admits. Rafael laughs and squeezes his hand.

“Moving on from your prurient obsession with my teenaged masturbatory life,” Fred says pointedly, managing to sound arch, offended, and haughty all at the same time. “I contemplated for a while what Benn had told me. A long time actually--that percolated in my brain all throughout the rest of high school. I only ever dated girls, I ignored it completely every time I was even remotely attracted to another boy, but I kept thinking about that. Not only did I have a lifelong conviction that if Bennett said it it must be so, but it just sort of felt right, you know?”

Rafael nods, remembering a similar feeling he had when he was younger. Despite what the other boys in his neighborhood said about “queers”, despite what the Church said, and despite what he knew his father would do to him if he heard Rafael’s thoughts, he was what he was and that was that. Fuck anyone who said different, he remembered thinking. It’s not like he could change it, even if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he answers when it’s clear that Fred requires some encouragement to continue. Fred twines his fingers with Rafael’s before carrying on.

“I lived with Benn in college. Our father bought him an apartment in Cambridge the day he got his acceptance letter from Harvard, and it only seemed logical that I’d move in once I got accepted too. And, I don’t know. It was a little easier there.” Rafael thinks he grimaces, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.

“It has been a while though, since I’ve indulged. And I've never participated frequently.” Every word seems like it’s forced out of Fred’s mouth.

“All this to say, Rafael,” Fred murmurs, inching closer across the sheets, “Is that the problem was never you.”

Rafael gathers him into his arms this time. Fred goes willingly, releasing a heavy, shaky breath and clearly relieved to not be talking about this anymore.

“I know,” Rafael reassures him. “I know it wasn’t me. I was just… I don’t know. I was worried.” He smiles, giving Fred another squeeze. “You’re a delicate little flower Freddie, I want to make sure I don’t trample all over you.”

“Get out of this bed this instant.”

Rafael laughs and they settle down to sleep.

***

The three of them celebrate in Rafael’s tiny Brooklyn apartment when Fred returns from Baltimore. He insists that he wants to cook and, though he had his doubts about his equally minuscule kitchen, manages to turn out an incredible ropa vieja. His mother would be proud.

When the empty plates are discarded on his coffee table, stacked haphazardly and waiting to eventually be washed by whoever loses the inevitable game of ‘who had the harder day’, Rafael sinks back into the couch and smiles benignly basking in the praise of the two of them and their company. Four days is starting to become too long to go between times when they’re all together and though he wants to frown at the unpleasant feeling of missing the both of them when they aren’t around he loves it a little bit as well. Every other wandering thought was of the two of them and he can’t deny that it's nice to feel these first desperate stirrings of a relationship again.

“I don’t know how you made all of that, Rafael. I’m pretty sure my cousin Caroline had a bigger kitchen in her dollhouse.” Fred surprises him when he leans closer to Rafael, snuggling contentedly against him. Rafael had told the third of their little trio that he and Fred had finally slept together--hiding things in a threesome was the quickest way to hurt feelings. Everyone was going to eventually do things without everyone involved and it’s best to just let that out in the open--but he hadn’t expected Fred to offer such casual affection so freely.

Rafael catches her looking at the two of them with a soft smile on her face and returns it with one of his own. She hid it well but she was a little disappointed during their FaceTime when he had warned her that Fred might not be overly demonstrative yet. Rafael knew she felt a little--guilty wasn’t the word she would use, he knew, if he could ever get her to talk about it--uncomfortable about how much more open Fred was with her than he was with Rafael. He loves how hard she tries to remind him that Fred is just anxious, cautious, a little scared. Rafael is a grown man and doesn’t need his hand held, but the fact that she tries to anyways makes his heart feel like it’s growing through his ribcage sometimes.

When Rafael looks back down at Fred he looks like he’s about to fall asleep with his head nuzzled against Rafael’s shoulder. He would describe it as endearing until Fred moves one of his hands high onto Rafael’s thigh. Rafael smirks.

“All it took was one night and he’s already falling for me,” he says to her in a stage whisper. Fred is unfortunately still awake enough to jab Rafael in the ribs, settling down only after the air is knocked out of Rafael’s lungs with an “oof”.

“As long as you remember to invite me to the wedding,” she teases. Rafael watches her duck admirably as Fred throws a cushion at her head.

“You’re supposed to throw a bouquet at me, not a pillow!”

#rafael barba x frederick chilton #rafael barba #frederick chilton #law and order svu #hannibal #fanfic #fanfiction

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mcwriting · 3 years ago

Text

His Mobius

Lol y'all gonna hate me for this one but what can I say, I'm obsessed with this ship and slightly disappointed in the season finale.

Not my normal jam so sorry to those who only follow me for T. Holland content

Picks up where ep 6 leaves off. Don't read if you don't wanna get spoiled lol.

Ship: Loki vs. Mobius M. Mobius (one-sided)

Word Count: 1212

Warnings: it's sad boi hours in here y'all prepare to have your heart ripped out for a second; also spoilers

⏰

The color had drained from Loki's face as he realized what was going on when he stared at the giant statue of He Who Remains.

With the intense branching of timelines, Sylvie had kicked him into a random, newly-born universe.

He turned back to the man he knew-

No. He didn't know this man.

This was Mobius. M. Mobius, but not his Mobius. M. Mobius.

"I... I- I- I need a tempad, please," Loki begged the not-his-Mobius.

"Don't you have one? Wait- I'm sorry, who are you again? You never answered my question," not-Mobius said with growing suspicion.

He didn't know this Loki, or seem to know any Lokis at all, but he still knew to question guys who came up asking frantic questions and requesting other agents' tempads.

Loki didn't know how to answer.

For once he wanted to tell the truth, but there was no way he'd be able to explain things to this not-Mobius. He didn't have time. He needed to find his Mobius.

With a swift glance, he located not-Mobuis's tempad and with even swifter precision snatched it from the man.

"Hey wait!" he cried, but it was too late.

Loki had already punched in random numbers and opened a portal, stepping through into the unknown.

⏰

The yellow rectangle behind Loki closed as soon as he stepped through, and he knew that with all the chaos, he probably wouldn't ever be found.

As he got his bearings, Loki started to register the sights and sounds around him, along with the humid heat that made his already sweaty skin feel even stickier.

He blinked a couple times before realizing what he was looking at.

Somewhat.

He was in a rainforest.

"Midgard. This- I'm on earth," he muttered to himself, brows furrowed.

Back before the TVA, he'd spent years plotting his takeover of the planet. The Asgardian libraries had contained books filled with knowledge about earth's nature and climate systems, something he'd used to his advantage when planning where he wanted to rule from.

While he didn't know a thing about earth customs or technology, Loki could easily tell the difference between a chimpanzee and a capuchin, or explain how hibiscus flowers were great in tea.

The real question was when is he?

Loki looked at his tempad.

Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica. 2015.

It made sense. Loki remembered that the country was known for its lush landscapes.

There was no telling what universe he was in. He wondered if he could find someone to fill in in the 3 years since the battle of New York, if that had even happened in this timeline.

He took a look around. The foliage was bright green, and he spotted a toucan on a nearby branch. There was the occasional scream of a howler monkey echoing through the trees.

A few feet away, just past a few trees, was a dirt path. Signs that people had walked this trail many times.

Of course, a worry popped into the back of Loki's head that claimed a hungry jaguar had paced there as it looked for a meal, trampling the grass in search of prey.

His fears were quelled, however, when he heard faint voices nearing.

He stepped behind a wide tree and watched carefully as a man in a neon shirt led a family down the trail.

Loki spotted 5 kids, who all looked between the ages of 8 and 18. Interspersed among them were 4 adults who looked to be in their 40s or 50s.

At the back of the pack walked two older men. A shorter guy with snow white hair who looked to be in his 70s, and a taller one whose hair was very much salt-and-peppered, likely in his 60s.

The brightly-clothed guide was explaining to them all of the wonderful things Costa Rica had to offer, from its diverse flora and fauna to the beaches, mountains, and rainforests.

Loki was about to pop out from the wood and ask if this family could explain what the avengers were up to, or if they even existed at all here. He knew he would look ridiculous with his torn up TVA clothes but didn't care.

Finding Mobius was more important.

Before he could call out a greeting, he stopped dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

That voice.

He knew that voice anywhere.

The shorter old guy had cut in to make a joke to his family.

"I need to know where to get a jet ski around here."

Mobius.

That was him, but what was he doing here?

Loki felt weird seeing what it would have looked like for his Mobius to live on earth up to this point, assuming that the TVA variants of him had been plucked from the mid-1990s.

"Daaaad," one of the middle aged women groaned.

He has a daughter. Are those his grandchildren?

"You know we brought you on vacation to get you away from your jet ski, right dad?" another of the middle-agers said, a man who looked to be the youngest in his generation group.

A son as well?

"I'll have you know that the jet ski was the greatest invention of our time, of all history, even!" old-Mobius explained light-heartedly.

The taller man next to him placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I think we can manage a week without, my dear."

Loki gasped.

That was him speaking to old-Mobius. Well, not him, but an old version of him.

It didn't make sense.

Loki was well over 1000 years old. An Asgardian diety. A jotun.

He wouldn't just age like that. Not unless he sacrificed something to do so.

Loki couldn't help but notice, though, that while old-Loki's face was considerably wrinklier than his own, the man he looked at was void of worry lines around his eyes and forehead.

He looked genuinely happy.

Loki shifted as best he could to stay hidden behind the tree as he watched what played out ahead of him.

"Oh, alright, alright. I guess I can manage going without ole Lightning for the week if it means I've got y'all to entertain me. But just know that I'm taking everyone out on the lake as soon as we get back to Texas."

Old-Mobius, or whatever his midgardian name really was, smiled at his old-Loki, placing an hand over his lower back.

"I think that can be arranged," old-Loki agreed, quickly pressing a kiss to old-Mobius's temple as he wrapped an arm over the shorter man's shoulders.

Loki didn't even realize that there were tears sliding down his cheeks until the pang in his heart made him turn away from the happy family.

Because it wasn't just Mobius's family, it was his.

He didn't know how the two had found each other, how this Loki had somehow evaded godhood to live a domestic, midgardian life.

Loki couldn't stay here. He couldn't disturb and be caught by them.

He needed to find his Mobius, maybe figure out how to start a life like that.

It wouldn't be easy, jumping through the multiverse searching for that hard-headed, sarcastic, witty, crazy TVA analyst Loki had somehow fallen for, but he had to try.

So with the coast clear, he reset the tempad and stepped through another portal.

For his Mobius.

⏰

A/N: my heart is going to explode. Why did I feel the need to torture myself in this way? Anyways, I wrote it, so y'all gotta read it.

I don't make the rules.

Let me know what you thought! I love and hate this simultaneously so I'd love some feedback. Thanks for reading!!

Once again, sorry for those who follow me for Tom Holland stuff but I really wanted to write this!

If you would like to be added to any of my taglists, please message or send an ask so I can verify that you've been added!

Not tagging my permanent tag list since this isn't my normal content!

#his mobius #justice for mobius #loki #loki tv #loki laufeyson #loki x mobius #loki 2021 #loki spoilers #lokius #mobius #mobius m mobius #loki mobius #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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crystalirises · 4 years ago

Text

NPC Fundy AU

Essentially, Fundy is not part of the main canon. He's just a person living within the SMP. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't have any ties to the people within canon...

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/79557208

His papa had promised him that he’d be back.

That was five years ago. Now, there was but a rotting cottage behind him and a god with an offer before him. Fundy glanced down at the god’s open hands, the paleness of their gloves reminded him of pure white snow. Their head was spherical, not quite a face but he could make out an X and D, which looked like they were perpetually joyful. He hadn’t felt that happy in a long, long time. The god had followed him from the river that he had been fishing from, whispering sweet words into his ears, promises of a better life in a better world. Fundy couldn’t trust them, couldn’t trust in promises. Promises were meant to be broken, as his papa had so demonstrated.

No. He wouldn’t trust in the god’s promises. What he wanted was a deal.

The god was surprised at the little fox’s audacity, but they let out a giggle, agreeing to the proposition. It wasn’t an issue to them anyway. So the god asked what the boy wanted, expecting the usual wish of treasure beyond any man’s wildest imagination. Yet the answer shocked them. For the boy had asked to be let into their world, in exchange for his memories. Not quite the deal. Not one that they found to be fair. But if that is what the boy wanted, then they shall agree to it.

Though Fundy did intervene before the deal was to be set. He wanted to leave a letter.

The god let him, after all, it would be the last act he’d do in this life.

Fundy had rushed back into the home that he’d known for most of his life. He had been eight when his father had left, promising a quick return and a gift for Fundy once he came back. He waited through all five springs. He waited through all five summers. He waited through all five autumns. He waited through all of the five winters, when all he could do was throw in scraps of wood and clothing into the fireplace to keep himself warm and chewed on grass to keep himself alive, but his papa never came back. So, he picked up a pen and paper, and began to write:

‘Papa… Wilbur, something interesting happened today. A god approached me today, and asked if I wanted to go with them. I think I will. I miss you, everyday. But I think it’s time for me to go. I pray that you find this letter, and that you may be happy knowing that I am in a better place.

I’ll always I love Love you Goodbye.’

He left the letter on the table, trusting that it would stay and not be lost to the wind. Fundy rushed back to the god, whose hand had reached out to hold his. And off they went to the Essempy.

---

When he first met General Wilbur Soot, his first thought was that the man was charming. Fundy had been working on one of his many inventions when someone had chanced upon his house. He opened it to find a man in a blue uniform. He need not look at the flag that was finely stitched onto the man’s jacket. Everyone within the Essempy had heard of the General of L’Manburg.

Most had called him persuasive and revolutionary. Others called him a lunatic and a hopeless dreamer. Fundy had neither opinion, for he had no care towards the coming L’Manberg-Essempian War. He knew that L’Manburg was short on supplies and on men, and the general of a losing country could only be at his doorstep for one particular purpose. Fundy had expected many promises to be made, anything to get another soldier in L’Manburg’s ranks.

He had not expected to be pulled into a nearly suffocating hug.

It took a while for him to free himself from the man’s grasp. Still, the man held onto him.

At least the promises had been proposed, like he’d expected them to be. The General promised freedom, a life away from tyranny. While the man continued on with his calculated rambling, Fundy couldn’t help but listen, a part of him wondering why this scene felt so familiar. Fundy standing before a man on the precipice of making history while continuously staring out from the safety of his den. The man laid a hand on his cheek, crocodile tears flowing past his cheeks.

The general then promised his safety, and Fundy couldn’t help but feel like the man hadn’t promised anyone else that. Yet he was not the type of person to trust in promises. This man knew the game of charm and wit, knew the proper words to sway people to his side. Fundy would not have it. He was content to live his days in the sereneness and simplicity of his home. Besides, he’d heard the rumors, heard of the masked man that ruled over the lands of the Essempy. The General of L’Manburg may not fear Dream’s retribution, but Fundy sure did fear his punishment.

In truth, the promises felt like a luren’s lure. Ones that would lead him to his own demise.

The man still stood before him, crying out to a stranger who did not know him. Fundy let him cry, for there was nothing wrong in that. The general may be a siren, but he was still a man. Fundy would give him this moment of weakness, though he knew not of what the man cried for.

It was a pity really, moving though his promises may be, Fundy did not believe in promises.

Fundy smiled, and declined to join L’Manburg’s side.

---

When he first meets President Wilbur Soot, he is genuinely surprised to find the man alive, albeit down to two lives. He hadn’t meant to go near L’Manburg, hadn’t even known where it was, but he’d spotted the president. Well, the president spotted him. The man had quickly rushed after him, the same charming smile on the man’s face while he pulled Fundy deeper into the country.

He held on tightly to the basket of pastries on his arm, forcing down his irritation while the man gave him an extensive and thorough tour of the nation. The president seemed particularly fond of the blackstone walls that surrounded L’Manburg, stating that they were built for his beloved son.

Fundy nodded along, letting the man tell him tales of the nation he and his brothers had fought so hard for, trying to quell his rising curiosity from getting the better of him. No one had ever mentioned that the president had a son, only two brothers. The president continued to pull him along, introducing him to a few residents that walked by them. A few of the people’s faces were familiar to him, and Fundy was quite surprised to find former Essempians within L’Manburg.

Their little walk finally came to a lull by the time they reached a van… with a burning hot dog on top of it. Fundy averted his gaze, coughing down a chuckle at the oddity of such a vehicle.

“How do you like our nation so far?”

Odd. The president’s wording of the question felt too personal.

“A good nation, I suppose.” Fundy glanced around, pursing his lips together. The ruler of the Essempy would not take this transgression lightly, yet these people walked around like they were finally free. He shook his head at the falsities. He glanced over at Wilbur, taking in the details that people did not wish to see so they chose not to see. This man was ambitious. A charming and ambitious man. Fundy could only hope the ambition didn’t fall into obsession. “L’Manburg seems to be thriving. I suppose congratulations are in order. You won the war, how impressive.”

“It is. We won. We have independence!” The man clasped a hand around his shoulders, nearly jostling the pastries off the basket. He tried to give the president a smile, happy for the man but he did want to get home. He would also rather not think about how the man kept wording his statements so personally. Fundy moved away from the president, taking a small step back to show that he was leaving. The man’s eyes seemed to widen. “You have a home here, Fundy.”

He nods in understanding, an awkward smile showing on his face.

Fundy declines the president's offer.

---

When he first meets the exiled ex-President Wilbur Soot, he nearly slams the door on the man’s face. The man, for lack of a better description, looked like shit. It was the dead of night when the man had come to visit him, the scent of gunpowder clinging to the man. Fundy, despite his better judgment, invited the man in for a midnight cup of tea. It felt odd to be in the man’s presence. He didn’t feel safe around him, didn’t feel like the man was the same man he’d been before. Fundy glanced up, nearly jumping once he realized that Wilbur hadn’t stopped staring at him at all.

“You hate me.” The man’s words were a surprise. His ears flicked up, his tail wrapping around his waist. Fundy hadn’t the faintest idea where the man had gotten that idea. Wilbur hadn’t made a move to grab at his teacup, glaring at it like it was poisoned. “No… you must despise me.”

“Wilbur, I don’t know you enough to hate you.”

“That’s my fault, isn’t it?” The man suddenly stood up, grabbing the tea cup before smashing it against the ground. Fundy flinched, arms wrapping around himself in fear that Wilbur might turn his attention to him. He wasn’t much of a fighter. Luckily, the man fell into a tired rant of his miserable life. Fundy couldn’t understand a single word, but he could hear the pain in Wilbur’s voice, the regret. “This whole shitshow. It’s my fucking fault. Everything I care about is gone!”

“I— Wil…” Fundy rose from his seat, mindful not to step on the shards of glass on the floor. He’d have to clean that in the morning. He laid a gentle hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, shaking him back to reality. “You were a great general once. You can get your nation back. I know you can.”

“THAT DAMNED NATION IS FUCKING GONE! IT’S BEEN GONE SINCE THAT FUCKING TRAITOR LED US TO THEIR DEATHS! … It’s been gone since you told me you wouldn’t live within our nation’s walls…” Wilbur sniffled, slamming a hand against the table. Fundy tried to ignore the last statement. He had no idea why Wilbur was stating such an accusation, but he could only imagine why. Perhaps the man wasn’t even seeing him. “L’Manburg is gone. The idea of that nation never even left my imagination. How could it when the reason I founded it for wasn’t even with me? That nation has to go, my little champion.”

He tried not to flinch when the man suddenly embraced him.

Fundy couldn’t help but lean in, wondering if this was how it felt to have a parent.

Really… He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear about Wilbur’s death a few weeks later.

Still… he couldn’t help but mourn for the man anyway.

---

When he first meets Ghostbur, the ghost insists that he stay with Fundy.

He even brought along a friend, Friend the Sheep.

The others - Wilbur’s friends and family - had glared at him in resentment, except for a few who had an understanding look in their eyes. They seemed to agree, most reluctantly, that Ghostbur should stay with him. Fundy found that quite odd, but they had insisted - some desperately and others threateningly - that Ghostbur stay with him. He couldn’t do much since the ghost had chosen to barge into his den everytime he had the chance to. Fundy found it… endearing.

Although… he wished the ghost wasn’t so… clingy. Fundy could barely breathe around him.

Ghostbur was cold, not personality-wise but physically. He had no idea of space, always inserting himself into every little detail of Fundy’s life. Worst still, the ghost treated him like he was a helpless child, even once trying to carry him up into his arms like he had the strength to do so. Fundy was eighteen. The ghost insisted on always hugging him, calling him ‘his little champion’ and every other petname that he could think of. At first, it had been nice… to be wanted by someone in such a way, but overtime, it became too overbearing for him to handle.

Yet each time he looked into those broken dark eyes, he couldn’t help but sigh and let the ghost do what he wanted to do. Ghostbur was imagining him for someone else, and everyone expected him to help the ghost remember. If this was the cure, then he’d gladly go on with the charade.

It’s what he would want anyone to do for him… help him remember.

He spends most of his mornings tending to his farm with Ghostbur, the ghost either singing a little song with his guitar or telling tales of the life that he could remember. In the afternoons, they would go over to New L’Manburg and fish with Philza, Ghostbur’s dad who seemed all too guilty to be around Ghostbur. In the nighttime, he would either have tea with the ghost who would be reading in the corner of their shared home or Ghostbur would pull him outside and they would make Chinese lanterns. Fundy found that he liked those moments with Ghostbur the most.

It was an odd companionship, but Fundy found himself feeling less alone with the ghost. Though he knew that the friendship wouldn’t last long. In the end, Fundy was nothing but a stranger.

When Tommy was exiled, Ghostbur followed after him.

Huh… Maybe Tommy was Wilbur’s son?

---

He met him again. The real him. The live version.

Fundy stood at his den’s open doorway, staring up at the man who crawled his way out of hell.

He heard the rumors.

He didn’t think a man could ever cheat death. But then…

Did he expect anything less from Wilbur Soot?

The man that stood before him, frightened him.

This man didn’t have the general’s charm that made Fundy trust him.

This man didn’t have the president’s hospitality that made Fundy like him.

This man didn’t have the exile’s desperation that Fundy felt sorry for.

This man didn’t have Ghostbur’s amnesia, which Fundy sympathized with him for.

This man was…

Fundy wasn’t sure.

He was bolder. That’s how Fundy would describe him.

He had grinned widely at Fundy, pulled him close with the intent to never let go.

He called him his little champion.

He called him son.

And when the man reached for his hand and asked Fundy to go with him.

Fundy said yes.

He wasn’t sure what the man would have done…

If he’d said no.

#fundy #wilbur soot #dream smp #dream smp fanfic

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