#it’s me actually i hope he dies and i am fighting the urge to hunt him for sport

[panb1mbo]

i triggered a veteran driving a truck today bc i smiled and waved after i refused to speed up above 85 even after he settled for riding my ass since he couldn’t go around me because i was matching speed with the cars in the next lane. yikes. sounds like someone needs to work on their emotional regulation skills

#it’s me actually i hope he dies and i am fighting the urge to hunt him for sport #it’s too bad war didn’t take you out but that’s ok there’s still time #he followed me from houston into my town so like theoretically i could seek him out #like if i get bored enough #sorry y’all is this too mentally ill for y’all? #ykw idc #my partner was in the car so like i’m salty salty #2000scrybaby.vent

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

How would platonic yandere king and queen of hearts react to finding out reader saved Alice and is finding a way to go back to their world?

You know what? I'll do you one better! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Platonic Queen and King of Hearts (2)

“That’s p-perposterous! My darling child is right beside me, happily eating their lunch!”

The King of Hearts protests adamantly as the dorm mouse attempts to inform the King. Having missed the Queen’s charging envoy. You had to give the rodent props. The guts to try and drag your name right in front of your face to what she hoped was both the Queen and King of Hearts. 

To her luck though the Queen was not here so all she received was the King’s peaceful denial of her information. She huffed glaring at you with her beady eyes as though staring would prove her point. Fighting the urge to smirk you instead closed your eyes and continued to eat the meal provided for you. You weren’t really hungry but you doubted your…father would believe you if you were to say it out loud.

That being said you hoped Alice–who hadn’t found a growing cake or drink anywhere—stayed tucked in your pocket. When you were able to sneak to the bathroom to chat they suggested being allowed to run freely which you shot down. How many movies and stories had this exact situation happen where the small companion died or squashed because their giant friend wasn’t there to help. 

Still if you knew Alice best they were likely going to ignore you. Now with the dormmouse watching you couldn’t chance a glance at the pocket near your chest. 

“My child, what’s on your mind? You’ve been acting out of it since you mother’s gone to hunt.”

You cursed yourself internally. You must have spent too long thinking about Alice now you’ve gone an alerted the only one of your ‘new parents’ that tried to understand your emotions. Shaking your head you planned to wave him off. 

“I’m fine…Father I just am nervous.”

“Nervous? About what, my child?”

This was new. Usually at this point in the conversation the Queen of Hearts would have spoken up. Told her husband exactly what she wished you were feeling; as delusional as she was. But she wasn’t here and this was an opportunity. 

“Well as you know me and Alice know each other really well–”

“Yes I believe you did mention that at one point. Go on.”

“So I’m just a little sad that…Mother has decide to hunt them down.”

You watched the man’s bottom lip jut out in an unironic frown, his diamond shaped pupils darting from you to the other side of his face. No doubt, deciding who to please. If his hesitation wasn’t bad enough the dorm mouse decided to squeak up. 

“If I may your majesty the Queen knows best about the perpetrator Alice!”

“Oh yes that’s right!  A great idea young mouse!”

You wished to bring your foot down on the little rat or at the very least deliver a kick to their tiny traitorous little body. If it weren’t for his easy to sway persona he’d be perfect to convince in your quest to save Alice. But since this wasn’t working you’d have to try the other a bit more underhanded but necessary. 

“Well Father there was something else but it’s probably not worth even thinking about.”

You made sure to bat your eyes and look away sorrowfully which only fueled the King’s determination to soothe your ‘aching’ heart. Puffing his chest and holding you close, he was entirely eating this up.

“Tell me, Love! Has someone hurt you?! Something bothering you?!”

“It’s….my body, Father.”

Pretending to be bashful, you held your face in your hands. Hoping to hide your snicker at his flustered expression. Deciding to take him out of his misery you continued. 

“I wish it was .03 centimeters bigger than it is now.”

“Well I think you’re perfect the way you are!”

If he was actually your father and not the husband of a murderous queen, you’d be happy to hear that. But wherever Alice was, she needed this and no amount of comforting comments would be enough. 

“BUT I DON’T!” 

Faking a torrent of tears you folded your arms over your face leaning into the arms of the chair. Really trying to give off the image that you were absolutely devastated. 

“Don’t fret my Love! I have the perfect remedy for this!”

He happily skittered to the kitchen with you in tow, politely asking for the chefs to bring out the drink that could make you grow. The dormmouse, for whatever was still following sending a spiteful glare every now and then restraining you from taking a peek in your pocket. Despite your expectation you were not entirely sure if Alice was still there. But you hoped she was close by if only to sneak back around and get to it. In the meantime you had to improvise.

“Before I do this I’d like to see an example of it…”

“Oh well I shouldn’t try it. The Queen loves the size I’m at now!”

You had to have respect the man had a real loyalty to the queen and even better the rights of a King.

“How about you try it little mouse.”

“E-e-excuse me?”

“Give it a try for your new highness?”

“Ugh fine.”

The King let the mouse climb the table pouring a small amount into the cap of the bottle and sure enough the little mouse took on a few more inches. Technically you could stop here, the King would no doubt leave the bottle out but you figured extra insurance wasn’t too bad.

“What about if I don’t like it when I’m bigger?”

“Though you’d look perfect either way, we do always have some shrinking cake on stand by!��� 

Turning around he pulled out the cake from a cupboard, where he naturally sliced a sliver of the cake to give the larger mouse. The mouse let out a squeak the equivalent of a sigh and downed a good amount of the slice. They let out a diminutive squeak when they looked in the reflection of the bottle.

“My King I don’t think this is the right–”

“Oh Father! I now realize you were right all along!” You made sure to speak louder than the mouse. “I am just fine the way I am if I do grow it’ll be because that’s the way I’m mean to be.”

The King clapped, hunging you tight. 

“Good! I’m so glad my child’s so proud of themself! Now let’s enjoy that strawberry cake your mother left for us!”

Escorting you out the kitchen you watched some of the card soldiers begin to chase off the small mouse. Hiding your snicker you went back to focusing on the King who was happily ranting about some plans of his. You weren’t really listening as you felt for a bump in your pocket—unfortunately finding nothing. 

______________________________________________________

“THAT OBNOXIOUS TRAMP!”

The Queen of Hearts’ voice rang out the entire castle, even though you were right beside her you could tell that was the case. You were once again eating a tray of tarts as the Queen raged to you and her husband about the terrible hunt. 

“Oh Darling, mind our child’s ears and why not have another tart?”

Her glare disappeared for a moment accepting the tart her husband held up to her painted mouth—after that it was right back to pacing. Wearing the undersuit of her armor and her makeup running just from being worn all day she still looked as beautiful as a picture. Even with her contorted face making an angry expression, you could see why the King of Hearts still swooned at her attention.

“Even the blood hounds found nothing but outdated scents! I tell you the mealworm has been all over my kingdom!”

“I see dear. Is there anywhere you haven’t checked?”

“NO I’ve checked every inch of the forest, everywhere in the garden, and even that insane Hatter’s party spot.”

“(Y/n) do you know where she may be?”

The question caught you off-guard, making you quickly wipe your mouth of some left over custard on your mouth. Stifling a cough as you down the rest of the tart in your throat you turned to him. 

Trying to hide the horror in your eyes, you asked him,”Why would I know?”

He tilted his head, his ever present smile on his face. His diamond eyes squinted in your direction, he continued. 

“Because she’s your friend isn’t she?”

It was then the weight in your stomach began to turn. Despite his meek behavior and wet-blanket status–next to the Queen–he was still a King. A King happily married to the Queen that was willing to remember the details she didn’t bother to remember. 

Swallowing the hesitation you shrugged it off, “ Well yeah but she doesn’t really tell me where she goes…she’s kind of always been a free spirit.”

You tried to say it nonchalantly aiming for another tart only to find the presence of the Queen far too close to your face. Expecting her to grab onto your chin, you flinched. Instead she let her painted nails graze upon your neck before caressing your cheek.

“(Y/n)-dear she doesn’t sound like a very good friend.”

It was said in a very calm tone, an alarming difference from her screeching before.

It was scary.

“I mean Alice and I have our differences but in the end we’re good friends.”

She continued to keep her hand on your cheek lovingly tracing the sides of your face.

“So you say…the other Wonderlandian’s threatened you for her right?”

…How did she know that?

“What?!” 

She seemed to chuckle at the terror on your face, placing a kiss on your temple. She brought both her hands to your cheeks letting your noses touch as she smiled in your face.

“You don’t think I haven’t been watching my child from the second you came through that door?”

She chuckled at your speechlessness holding your head against her chest, she hummed a little rubbing the top of your head. Hugging your side you felt the encapsulating hug on your opposite side from the King of Hearts who nuzzled his wife’s head.

“Of course we were watching (Y/n), we’ve cared about you since the beginning.”

“And we plan to never ever stop.”

This moment would have been sweet if you hadn’t been going through the catalogue of events that led to you being here. How much had they seen? How much did they already know? Surely they wouldn’t know where Alice was if they were asking…but the threatening? Even Alice didn’t know about that. 

“AAAAGHH! “OH MY DIAMOND!” 

“hELPP—AcK!”

The ground suddenly began to quake and sounds of shouting drew both the King and Queen away from you an to their balcony. You followed taking advantage of their surprise to wiggle between them both.

“Alice?!”

Turning her head in your direction, she waved as if she wasn’t practically the size of the castle. A spear shot from the ground bouncing off her thigh, which she retaliated by stomping on the whole platoon with the thrower. 

“AAALLLICCEEE! Off with her head!” 

The Queen of Heart’s was screeching again, practically calling on all her forces to pour out of the castle in that instant. Alice seemed to stumble from the new onslaught of guards hiking her legs up to avoid them. The quaking of the ground startled everyone forcing the Queen and King to rely on the walls of the castle; they reached for you missing your ducking from. In more worry than anything you ran to the guard rail, prepared to warn her about the cannons they were hauling out. 

“Alice! Watch out!”

She turned to you again face lighting up with an idea of hers. Intentionally stepping on the card guards she made her way closer to the castle–more specifically the balcony. Already catching on, the King shouted for you.

“(Y/n) get away from the railing she’s going to-”

“Woah!” 

Like you’d done before Alice cradled your form in her hands smiling down at you. Barely noticing the fearful ‘cease fire’ the Queen demanded you were carried up high as Alice cradled you against her chest. From the cover of her hands you watched her stick her pierced tongue out at the Queen before beginning to run off the premise of Queen’s castle grounds.

“Hang on tight (Y/n)! We’re going home!” 

At her booming voice you doubted she could hear your cheers. Still a small amount of doubt bothering your joy. 

If the Queen and King wouldn’t let you leave would anyone else?

#yandere x you #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere platonic #yandere platonic queen and king of hearts #yandere platonic queen of hearts #yandere platonic king of hearts #yandere parents #yandere kingdom of hearts

[odysirena]

meet cute (lo’ak x gn!metkayina!reader)

A/N: first atwow oneshot!! please let me know what you think! requests are open and i hope we all have some fun here! not proofread because i run on no sleep (1.1k)

The first thought that enters your brain when it regains consciousness is, Eywa give me the power to remain friends with this girl. 

You groggily whisper curses as your best friend, Tsireya, shakes you awake. She says your name again and aggressively shakes you three more times before she stops, letting silence engulf your marui pod. You feel yourself getting dragged to where you know the edge is and groan. You pull yourself up in a swift movement, not wanting a repeat of the morning splash incident. 

“I’m up, I’m up,” You put your hand up in surrender, slightly towering over your best friend. 

Tsireya wastes no time. She immediately takes hold of your hand and drags you away from your pod. 

“I haven’t even eate–” You interrupt yourself with a yelp when you’re forced to a stop. 

Tsireya shoves a fish your way, “Come! You need to meet the newcomers!” You take note of your best friend’s excited look before you redirect your gaze towards the fish.

“Okay, first of all, this is no longer warm, what am I supposed to do with this? Second–” 

“It would still be warm if you actually woke up on time.”

“–Newcomers? Anyone interesting?” You ignore her previous statement and resort to giving her a teasing look. 

Your best friend lets out an exasperated sigh before a playful smile graces her lips, “Well. . . I personally didn’t find anyone interesting,” She winks your way, “But you might.”

You furrow your eyebrows and stop walking, turning around to face her again. You catch sight of the shit-eating grin she has on her face. You put a hand up on front of you defensively, opening your mouth to let out a complaint but it dies down. 

Tsireya gives you a knowing look, you let out another sigh, “elaborate?”

She urges you two to start walking again before she speaks, “They are forest people.”

Once again, you come to a stop. Your best friend chuckles at your dazed expression before taking hold of your hand and dragging you, forcing you to walk by her side. 

“You told me that your father came from the forest,” Her voice gets softer, it always does when your conversations decide to dip its toes in unfamiliar waters.

She takes note of your hesitance and continues, “If you don’t want to, it’s alright, I won’t force you,” She bites back a grin, lightening up the conversation as she does,“I don’t think you’ll find their youngest boy that terrible looking though.”

She shoves you playfully before calling her ilu, she sends one last wink your way–an invitation to follow, and the option to eat along–before jumping in the water.

After quickly weighing your options, you decide to take a quick walk to your shore. It’s not officially yours, it’s more of an unspoken tradition amongst the Metkayina; if a Na’vi is seen habitually hanging around a specific area for a long enough time, it unofficially becomes their spot. 

It’s why your steps come to a halt once you spot a Na’vi in your territory. You can only see his back but it’s evident with the hue of his skin that this must be one of the newcomers that your best friend was blabbing about just a few minutes ago. 

You walk silently towards him, only stopping once you’re directly behind him. While waiting for him to take notice of your presence, you realise that he has a pile of wood and is most likely about to start a fire. You move your gaze to his left and spot his day’s hunt.

Your mouth twitches as it fights an internal battle; wait for him to notice or speak your mind.

“Not bad for a newcomer,” He turns to face you and lets out a high-pitched scream. You smile at the image of the newcomer flailing his arms theatrically. 

Once he’s calmed down, you’re able to take his face in. You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. Your examination is interrupted when he coughs, the tint on his face making his embarrassment known. 

“Hi?” He says, voice significantly deeper than it was a minute ago. 

You bend down to his level and bring your face closer to his before you stand back up, “I didn’t know people of the forest inked their body the same way we do.” 

“We don’t?” 

He stands up, now towering over you. He offers a hand, “Lo’ak” 

You say your name and quickly shake his hand before staring up again at him in wonder,

“But you have markings on your face?”

His ears flatten and you realise you have spoken without thought. You try to think of how you could possibly lighten the situation and resort to helping him cook his day’s hunt. 

You go around him, crouching down to light the campfire, motioning for him to help as well. He sits cross legged and works on cleaning the rest of the fish. 

Still unsatisfied with the comment that seems to have left him unsettled, you cough, quickly getting his attention. “It suits you,” you continue, “the markings I mean, it makes your face look nice.” 

Lo’ak looks at you in shock before looking down, you catch his bashful smile–fangs and all–the sight of it making your own lips twitch,

He straightens his back, “Thank you,” he coughs again, “We must hurry, if my family starts cooking before I finish then this would be wasted.”

You glance at the fish and the basket he has on the side, “They do not know that you are preparing a meal?”

“No, I didn’t even know I’d catch this many.” He says sheepishly.

You nod, looking up at the sky and taking note of the time. Lunch would usually be eaten in 4 hours, but considering they were newcomers performing activities their bodies aren’t used to, it’s better to make haste. The two of you begin to put the fish on the campfire

“It is your first time hunting here.” You comment, catching his gaze to see if your guess was correct. 

Lo’ak  nods enthusiastically, “Yes. I’ve caught fish before though, back in the forest,” he makes a figure with his hands, using them theatrically, “We don’t use nets like you do though, since we catch them in rivers, we use our bows instead.”

You smile at his story, moving fish from the campfire to the basket as you do, “You did well for a first catch,” you commend, smiling when he shoots a grin your way. 

“I don’t think I saw you when we first arrived?” It seems it was his turn to question you.

“You make it a habit to look at everyone?” You ask him playfully.

He furrows the ink above his eyes in thought, “No, not really,” he smiles at you, “You would definitely catch my eye though.”

His comment brings a smile to your face, you decide not to comment and instead answer his previous comment. “I was busy,” he tilts his head, “sleeping.” 

Lo’ak throws his head back in laughter, “You and I will get along well.” 

You both smile at the promise.

#avatar #avatar way of water #atwow #lo’ak #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak headcanon #lo’ak hc #lo’ak imagine #tsireya #lo’ak oneshot

[ihaveafandom-problem554]

i love your works oh my god, the wait was so worth it. thank you for doing my requests!! they all turn out great :D despite my username, I’m glad I made an account just so that I could request more of your spider bro content.

okay so uh I’m sorry if I’m requesting this a bit early since you only posted your latest spider bro today but after reading it, a sudden wave of problems and curiosity hit me so I thought:

‘yo aren’t the village gonna question why spider bro and rui only come around during sunset to night time sooner or later? are they gonna make up some excuse about them having some condition where if they stay in the sun for just a little bit they get really bad sunburn?? like “yeah so our parents died because they went out in the sun for too long so newbie demon slayers noticed this and thought they were demons in disguise and killed them, haha runs in the family amiright” idk ?? (sorry that’s a weird death) I like to imagine they pretend to be albino so that they can have an excuse in case someone ever asks them or say that they have jobs in the day time to support each other so they just visit around night time.

but honestly, I think the village would be a little sus of them but then they’ll be like “ehh they can’t be demons, they would’ve ate us already! plus they’re just so kind!!” so yeah.. (unless the village doesn’t really know about demons, then you can just ignore this)

okay so imma just start putting my ideas and prompt in here yeahh ..

so what I imagine is that the village knows about demons, but most just chalk it up as some sort of folklore to keep kids from wondering at night by themselves. however some (mostly the elders) claim to actually experience demon attacks so despite practically everyone living these two, they have their eyes on them just a bit..

the elders there would usually gather some kids and tell stories about demons roaming the night hunting for humans, and there would be people who would be as strong or stronger than the demons and slay them by cutting their heads off with a special blade- they say that there’s a whole organization dedicated for these specific people! and that those people who would sometimes come to the village with an odd uniform on are part of them.

one day while spider bro and rui visit the village, ashai drags them to where his grandfather would tell stories about demons and how the grandfather’s father were part of that organization and was called a “hashira” who mastered the sun breathing.

after that ashai would be like “that’s just gramps being all weird again with his whole demon slayer stuff, but it’s pretty interesting! it’s only a folklore though so you have nothing to be scared of. honestly, there’ll be times where I think you’re both demons or something because you guys act like you don’t know how to function as a human being sometimes, haha” and the spider bros would just be like “aha.. yeah..”

some of the elders start noticing that they only came around night, and unfortunately, not everyone is friendly. they kind of start interrogating them to the point where the other villagers would politely step in and tell them that they’re just kids with a condition that runs in their family (and rui becoming fed up then almost slashing them into ribbons). of course, a small portion of them don’t stop and are.. quite positive of it and would be a bit passive aggressive towards the two.

alright so I’ve come up with some ways it could go but I have no idea, you can decide which is better or somehow merge them together or mismatch and combine things,,, :D

1: obviously, the spider siblings can’t survive on human food. they’ll need human blood, the human food is just for when they get bored of eating humans for a bit. but.. how are they gonna get some? they can’t eat the village, and as much as they found the elders annoying they couldn’t since 1, they were pretty much right about them, and 2, if they were to eat the elders/anyone who found them suspicious even more people would start growing sus of them.

maybe.. the demon slayers that came to the village every now and then?

(name) would usually just use his spiders and take at least a cup (or two if rui’s feeling hungry) of their blood and bandage them up to go.

it lasted for a few weeks, so he thought he could control it.

him and rui did their best to try and suppress the urge, they really did.

they vowed themselves to not eat innocent people after meeting the friendly village.

but whenever a demon slayer would come to the village and whenever they took one or two cups of their blood, the more they craved just devouring them right there and then.

it was true that the two had a dislike for demon slayers, but they can’t say that most of them aren’t innocent. (I mean.. they kind of aren’t too)

they can’t do that.

but…

a few more cups won’t hurt, right?

a few days pass, and the butterfly mansion has been getting more and more demon slayers, most of them were from dangerously high blood loss, just enough for them to live and walk.. kind of.

and they all came from near the mountain.

but.. (I’m assuming this is after the fight between tanjiro and rui, but instead rui got away before tomioka could show up) didn’t tomioka, shinobu, and a few other demon slayers slay all of the demons there? unless there are a few hiding.. however they claim to not have entered the mountain, and instead went straight to a nearby village. they also claim to not have remembered anything about getting their blood taken, just waking up on a floor near the village with their arm bandaged up (it always happened at night time, too).

two or more days pass before they send some demon slayers to come investigate.

these demon slayers of course being tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu (plus nezuko).

when they arrived, it had been around 5 to 6, just before the spider siblings came to visit.

as they entered, tanjiro could smell a very faint scent of a demon almost everywhere (mainly around the shops and the people)- so faint that he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t searching for demons right now.

but before he could try to track it down, many young children from the village ran up to them and started excitedly asking about their uniform and their swords.

“are you guys demon slayers?”

“are grandpa’s weird demon stories are true?”

“can I touch the sword???”

it was no secret that they stood out from the crowd, and the villagers usually didn’t really question it because each demon slayer looked pretty normal and bland.

tanjiro smiled remembering his younger siblings all getting ready to eat and play during spring time.

zenitsu noticed tanjiro being confused and told them that demon slayers weren’t very well known, but it seems like it’s a folklore from around here.

and inosuke, of course was about taken aback by all of these mini humans running around them and was about to fight them until tanjiro reassured him.

ashai ran towards them thinking that rui and (name) was here a bit earlier than usual but was a bit disappointed when he got closer to clearly see their faces (and a boar head).

I TOLD MYSELF I SHOULD'VE ADDED A SCENE WHERE OLDER SPIDER BROTHER EXPLAINS TO ASHAI THAT HE GETS REALLY BAD SUNBURN BUT MY LAZY ASS SAID NO. ACTUALLY FUCK ME WHY AM I SO LAZY!?

Anyway let's do this..

Ok so the Village are familiar with demons and demon slayers but they take it as a Folklore since the grandparents keep mentioning it to the kids.

And before [Name] brung Rui, Ashai did ask him why he only came when the sunsets. And [Name] told him he was really sensitive to the sunlight, like, to the point it would actually burn him really bad.

And Ashai looked at him saying, "You could've just said you get really bad sunburn.."

And yes, his mom did smack him for saying that.

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

"Hi Ashai! You seem happy today."

"[Name]! Rui!" Ashai called out, running towards the two boys. Rui immediately pouted when he noticed the voice calling up to them wasn't one of the kind ladies trying to offer him food. Meanwhile, [Name] smiled at the boy's presence and walked faster towards Ashai.

"Yeah! I want to bring you to my grandfather-”

“Why?- Wait was is that..” Rui interrupted causing Ashai to stop walking and face Rui. “You did not just ask what a grandfather is.”

“I did. Now I want an answer.” Rui demanded his facial expression not changing a bit. Ashai sighed before explaining what a grandfather was, later explaining what a grandmother was, then explaining what a great grandfather and grandmother was.

Before Rui could ask anymore questions about people’s parents, Ashai changed the subject to the reason why he wanted to take them to his grandfather. 

‘Demon slayers’ was the first thing that came out of Ashai’s mouth and it made the two spider sibling’s heart drop. Rui’s heart dropped even deeper once he heard the word ‘Hashira’. It was almost impossible to hide the fact that it bothered him greatly.

Ashai turned around to race the two, and met their petrified expressions. Thinking they were terrified about the demon folklore, he immediately stopped talking and cupped [Name]'s face to try and reassure him.

"Oh no don't worry! It's just some dumb folklore, there's nothing to worry about! The demons aren’t real, it’s just some dumb story to keep the little ones from going outside at night. Its just gramps being all weird again with his whole demon slayer stuff, but it’s pretty interesting! Again, it’s only a folklore though so you have nothing to be scared of.” Ashai says letting go of [Name]’s face and opens the door for the two siblings to walk through. “Honestly, there’ll be times where I think you’re both demons or something because you guys act like you don’t know how to function as a human being sometimes, haha” Ashai joked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit

[Name] nervously laughed back while Rui just glared.

As the 3 boys walked inside the minka, [Name] noticed no one else was there except for the old man and Madam Yui. Not only that, but there was some strange aura in the air, as if he wasn’t welcome here. Turning over to Rui, [Name] can see his uneasy expression as well. But before he got the chance to say anything, Yui spoke aloud.

“Oh! sorry boys grandpa needs to rest, I’m sure if you come back later he’ll tell you one of his stories.”

A quiet sigh of relief was emitted from Rui. “Aww, that sucks I really wanted to you guys to here some of his stories.” Ashai pouted slightly. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll be awake soon.. Ashai, go over to the bakery and get the box wrapped in blue, its for your grandfather, don’t take to long ok?”

“Ok.. [Name]! Come with me-”

“No, I need him for something, just go over to the bakery real quick, get the box and come back.”

“But-”

“Nothing sweetie.. Hi Rui” Yui smiled, hugging the demon child who had just ran up to her. “How are you baby? Did you eat the food I sent you home with?”

“Go young man.”

Knowing he couldn’t argue any further, Ashai reluctantly went over to the bakery without [Name]. “That boy is obsessed with you, isn’t he?” Madam Yui joked. Unfortunately for [Name], he was too busy staring at the door Ashai just went through to hear what Yui said, causing him to answer a couple seconds late. “H-huh”

“The tempura and Sushi? Yeah we finished it.”

“Oh, you must still be hungry.. [Name] can you close all the blinds and sweep the floor?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you dear, I’ll be in the kitchen with your brother if you need me” Yui said, walking into the kitchen with Rui.

[Name] got straight to work, closing the blinds and sweeping isn’t anything hard...But the strange aura he felt before when he first entered, intensified. It almost felt like the air gotten thicker as well.

As [Name] swept closer to the sleeping grandfather, he noticed something right next to him. Taking a closer look, [Name]'s eyes at the sight of the samurai sword. Why does it look bigger than the usual than the swords I’ve seen.

After staring at the sword for a bit, [Name] finally looked away from the sword to finish sweeping. 

“I kill your kind with this exact sword”

...

“Is that what you tell the demons before you kill them?” [Name] questions, trying his best not to show the slightest amount of fear in his voice. “Every. single. one.” [Name] nodded, but refused to face the owner of the voice and the larger than normal sword. “Your kind disgusts me. Killing innocent souls just for your selfish needs.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘Your kind’ sir-”

“Demons.” He spat. “I mean Demons.” [Name] only nodded, no words, justs movements. Speaking of movements, the old man began to get up and slowly move closer to [Name]. Shit, what do I do now?

After hearing Ashai say that his grandfather was a Hashira, [Name] knew that his age didn’t affect the way he moved. The retired hashira can block his way to the door in the matter of seconds. He didn’t want to question how fast he was compared to a sun-breathing hashira. So he put the broom down and finally face the old man who was ten feet away from him. “Who many demons did you ki-”

“You may have fooled everyone in this village with your little story. But I’m not naive.” The sun breathing hashira was now walking towards [Name]. [Name] wasted no time walking towards the kitchen, he could probably notify madam Yui..

If it wasn’t for the sun breather grabbing [Name] by the neck. "Like I said before... your kind disgust me. And don't get me started on your excuse of a leader 'Muzan kibutsuji' (I hate his last name. I've spent about five minutes trying to figure out if the first half was 'kitbust' or 'kibust'). You don't happen to have any information on him do you?" With every word, the hashira tighten his grip on [Name]'s neck. Making it harder and harder for [Name] to breathe. "And don't worry about him finding you after you tell me, I'll kill you the second I get the information I need."

"A-and...wh..if...don't..?" [Name] was barely audible and on the verge of blacking out with the insane grip on his neck. He could taste own blood at this point, but he wasn't concerned about the blood trickling out of his mouth, he was more concerned about how no one was here to save him. Madam Yui told Ashai not to take long, and the bakery isn't far away from here. So what the hell?

Without waiting another second, [Name] unleashed a tiny spider to go and kill the hashira. Sure he was Ashai's grandpa but, it was either this old man or him.

"Have nothing to say? Well that's disappointing.." [Name] could feel his eyes threatening to shut as he Choked on his own blood. "P-plea....sto..p" he tried to plead. "If it wasn't for you disgusting demons.. my wife would've still been alive. I swear, I will defeat your leader, and kill every single one of you good for nothing demons-"

"GRANDPA NO HE ISN'T A DEMON! LET HIM GO" Ashai yelled, alerting Madam Yui who came rushing out of the Kitchen, Rui not to far behind. "Put him down Grandpa! He isn't a demon!" Ashai pleaded, gripping onto his grandfather's hamari, tears threathing to spill from his eyes. "PLEASE STOP YOUR HURTING HIM!"

"Oh Ashai, this isn't what you call a friend. This is a human eating demon, that killed your- OW DAMMIT" The hashira yelled in pain, thus letting go of [Name].

Once [Name] hit the floor, he immediately sucked in as much air as he could before choking again.

"[NAME] are you ok?!" Ashai called, rushing over to help [Name]. Rui would've done the same if it wasn't for Yui protectively holding on to him.

"When was the last time you took your medicine? You almost killed him! He's only a child" Yui quickly scolded the elder. " Oh sweetheart.. that kick was so powerful it almost broke my arm. You should-"

"I'm not and won't become a demon slayer. Go back to your room and take your medicine. You almost killed him!"

"He isn't a kid. That thing is a demon.. And so is the smaller one your holding."

"They aren't demons-"

"They how come they only come out when the sun goes down?" To that Madam Yui didn't have an answer. She never really thought about why they did come when the sun isn't out. Thankfully Ashai spoke up just before the elder could prove his point. "Their both sensitive to sun the sunlight. Both their parents died because of that."

Madam Yui held Rui even tighter as she looked back at the elder. "Ashai go take [Name] to Ms. Reiki." She demanded. Without thinking Ashai immediately picked up [Name] and proceeded to carry him to whoever Ms. Reiki was.

"I know you wanna check on [Name], Rui, don't worry we'll go there in a minute." Yui reassures, while cupping Rui's left cheek. "Yui, your not this naive."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, hurting a defenseless child-"

"He isn't a child.. You know that demons basically have a unlimited lifespan? That 'kid' is most likely 40 years old"

"Your just delusional, you haven't taken your medicine all day have you?"

"I do not need that Goddamn Medi...cine.. What the hell are you staring at?!" The elder quickly spat at the small spider boy who stared at the two adults.

"Nothing.. I didn't know older people quarreled.. I thought only children quarreled." Rui said with pure innocence. "I thought when hu- people got older they learned how to settle their arguments maturely, rather than idiotic children that need someone superior than them to settle it for them"

The two adults stared at Rui, both with different intentions of what to do next. "Oh, Rui, It's-"

"Don't explain anything to that thing." The elder spat. Rui watched as the two adults argued with each other. For some strange reason Rui was invested slightly uncomfortable but couldn't help but listen to what they had to say.

Throughout this argument, Rui learned some new words..

...

"I'm so sorry about my Grandfather, [Name], my mom said he's been having some illusions lately.. I didn't expect it to get this worse." Ashai apologized for the 26th time. "Like... I said for 26th...time Ashai, its ok! I'm fine really.."

"I know but he choked you and called you a demon! Why are you so calm about it?! You could've died!"

".....But I didn't..So..Yay?..." [Name] jazzed-hand. Ashai just sighed in response.

"That's odd.." Ms. Reiki said to herself, but the boys were interested anyway. "What's is it Reiki-san?" Ashai asked, his voice full of concern. "You said your grandfather choked him right?..Oh nevermind it's probably nothing.." She dismisses. "How's your throat? Is it feeling sore?"

"Well-"

"Don't speak. Just nod or shake your head." Reiki quickly spoke. [Name] nodded slightly before smiling at Reiki. "Your welcome sweetie.. Oh! Yui, is everything.."

"Everything's ok.." The two boys turned their heads to face Yui, who had just walked in with a sleeping Rui. "[Name] I am terribly sorry for what occurred and your injuries."

"It's-"

"What did I say about speaking?"

Not wanting to know the punishment for disobeying a nurse, [Name] nodded again with a smile, hoping Madam Yui will see that he forgives her. Thankfully she understood and returned a smile. " [Name] you can go, just remember to take it easy on your throat and take the medication I gave you." [Name] obeyed and made note to throw out the medication, since it had no use to him.

Both Reiki and Madam Yui watched the [Name] walk out with his admirer, Ashai.

As they left, the two women looked at each other with worry some expressions. "How did it even happened?" Reiki asked immediately. "I'm not sure.." Yui answered in disappointment. "I was in the kitchen with Rui because he wanted a snack. Then all of a sudden I hear Ashai yelling something about a demon so I ran out to see him choking [Name]"

"Did he take his medicine? Or did he continue to rant about how he doesn't need it?"

"That exactly" Yui sighed. She looked down at the sleeping Rui she had in her hands. The only thing she could think about was how the situation would have happened if she didn't come out sooner.. Rui would've lost the only member of his family.. he would've been traumatized for the rest of his life.. "The nerve of him to call him a demon.." Yui spoke through her teeth in anger.

Taking a second to rid off any dark thoughts she turned back to Reiki. "I'm leaving now. I want the kids to eat something before they leave, have a nice night."

"Same to you as well"

...

"You need to eat a human"

"I'm aware of that.. But who am I going to eat?" [Name] questioned. It has passed a few weeks ever since the two spider siblings ate a human body. Sure, the human's food is tasty and gives them energy for a couple hours, but it doesn't give them the nutrients they need. Day by day they can feel their bodies growing weaker do to the lack of human blood in their system. [Name] could care less about his own health, he was more concerned about Rui and what he was gonna eat. Every couple minutes or so, he could here Rui's stomach growl from hunger.

It pained him to see Rui in this state. Yet he's been in this state for weeks now and [Name] still doesn't know what to do or who to eat.

"We can eat that old sun-breather" Rui suggested. [Name]'s eyes widen in response. "Or" Rui continued, "We can eat everyone else who called us a demon! We'll make them regret-"

"We can't do that.."[Name] sighed. [Name] knows that Rui's way smarter than this, but after weeks of being around humans and not being able to take a even a bite out of them, is bond to do something to the way he thinks.

"They've been accusing us for being demons, if they suddenly go missing, we would have a lot of suspicion towards us."

"If we can't eat any of the old people or anyone else at the village who can we eat?" Rui asked, completely annoyed. "It's already a problem that we can't go out during the day when the sun's out, so how can we- uhh... [Name] what- what are you doing?" Rui questioned as he watched [Name] create a small spider and send it out to go in the opposite direction towards the deeper part of the woods.

"[Name], What are you?- huh?" Rui stopped talking as he sees a demon slayer slowly walk towards him like a mindless zombie.

"You did so well sweetie~" [Name] cooed to his spider, gently petting the spiders head. "uhh.."

"mh? Oh! I heard footsteps coming while you were talking.. I don't think we can devour the body this time though.. they'll probably send in more demon slayers complaining about a demon."

Rui stared at the demon slayer who had no control over their body. It's right there in front of him, he has every right to devour the vulnerable human, but then at the same time he doesn't. Just because people don't know he's a bloodthirsty demon who needs human blood to survive.

"Cut the skin open, you can suck the blood off of that. Take as much as you want but don't take too much so they can't walk, ok?" [Name] said. "Wait what about you? You need to-"

"It's fine, you need it more than me, I'll just fine another-"

"No. Take some as well, we don't know the next time you'll get choked like that.. or be threaten with wisteria.. we might not be able to regenerate as fast as we used too. I won't take a lot.. A cup or two should be enough to last a week or so." Rui demanded. [Name] only nodded in response.

Rui examined the slayer standing in front of him, figuring out where to suck the blood out of. "Cut open wherever chubbiest and take some blood. I'll send out a couple of my spiders to grab some bandages so we can patch them up. Then we'll leave them here and continue with our day." [Name] said, already making bigger than normal sized spiders to send out to the village to steal some bandages.

"How often are we gonna do this?" Rui asked while using his threads make a 'X' formation around the slayers hips. "I guess every couple weeks? or when your feeling hungry..."

It was surprising how well they managed to control themselves for so long. After taking a little more than one cup of blood, they soon decided to reward themselves with another two cups. After being satisfied, they cleaned and bandaged the body. Later leaving it mindless on the ground waiting for sunrise to come and free it from it's curse.

The spider siblings decided to do this every week or two. Find a slayer, drain most of its blood, patch it up, and pretend like nothing happened. It was hard trying not to devour the human, but the managed. Sure they had to hold each other back every now an then but the really are trying..

Meanwhile the butterfly mansion was trying to solve the mystery of the barely walking slayers with bandaged arms, legs, neck, and or stomach with a dangerously high amount of blood loss.

"Shinobu! We got another one!" Aoi called from the door frame leading to the medical room. "And Yes! Its the same bandaging pattern!" Shinobu sighed, yet kept the smile that was always on her face. This is the 5th one this month, the last person was barely alive.. if this keeps going...

"Oh! Another one?" Kanae (Yes she's alive here, I really miss her) said walking into the same room as Shinobu. "Your back so soon?" Shinobu questioned. "Only for a bit... I do have to get going soon. But since it is still day, I thought I would be able to get some more information on why some of our people are coming back with a terrible amount of blood loss. You care to join me?" Kanae offered, signaling Shinobu to follow her. Without a doubt, Shinobu followed her sister to medical room Aoi was in.

...

"Wait, The mountain that's a couple miles from here?" Shinobu asked, interrupting the story the only stable slayer was telling. "Y-Yeah actually.." The slayer answered.

"That's odd.." Kanae remarked, putting her index finger to her on her chin. "Shinobu, didn't you and tomioka slayed all the demons near the mountain?"

"Yes. Indeed we did.. We even raided the shed near the mountain."

"Act-actually.." The slayer spoke up "I never went to the mountain.. I went straight to the village near the woods."

"Why go straight to the village?"

"I was going to ask the people there if they had experince any suspicious activity. But before I got to the village, I felt something bite me. That's when I passed out. I wasn't sure how long I was out for, but when I woke up.. I was all bandaged up."

"Sorry to interrupt" Aoi interrupted "But, did you ever did get the chance to go to the village?"

"uuh no." The slayer concluded.

" Why'd you asked that Aoi?" Kanae asked. "Oh I wanted to know where the bandages came from. Anyway I should get back to work." Aoi claimed as she quickly walked off.

Aww she want to contribute but got nervous.. Kanae smiled to herself before getting up with a small stretch.

"Well!" Kanae clapped. "We'll send a couple demon slayers to investigate the area... Aoi said the patients claimed that it happened at night correct?"

"Uhh Yeah.."

"Then it's settled we'll send slayers right away to the area.. please get as much rest as you can and stay healthy, we will get to work immediately. Thank you!" And with that Kanae signaled her sister to follow her once more before leaving.

"Are you going to ask any of the Hashira to help?" Shinobu asked. "Well no that's not who I had in mind.."

"Then who?"

...

"We could've got here earlier if SOMEONE DIDN'T MAKE US STOP FOR TEMPURA!" Yelled a very pissed Zenitsu. Inosuke paid no attention to Zenitsu and instead enjoyed the last bite of Tempura he had in his mouth underneath his mask.

"Well it's only 5:48 so we have plenty of time to investigate the area" Tanjiro said trying his best to cause not another fight between Zenitsu and Inosuke for the fifth time today.

Zenitsu sighed. "Well? Do you smell anything?"

"Oh um.." Tanjiro took a second to sniff the air.

The village smelled friendly. Happy kids, happy adults, happy pets, demons, baked goods, fresh food, healthy environment..

"Huh?" Tanjiro said quietly to himself. He took another sniff around, taking him about a minute to finally, fully grab the demon scent.

"It's very faint." He unintentionally reported to Zenitsu. "It's on almost everything..and everyone.."

"Wait.. on the people too?! Dose that mean it's hiding as a human!?" Zenitsu began to panic. "It seems like it... how else would the scent get on the people."

"Start tracking it down gompochiro!!" Inosuke demanded.

"Right I should-"

"Is that a real sword?" A little girl asked. "Oh uh- where did you-"

"Are you a demon slayer?"

"Are grandpa's weird stories true?"

"Why do you have a boar hat?"

"Can I touch the sword?"

"Can I wear the boar hat?"

"Is that a bird on your head?"

A whole bunch of little kids ran up to the three strange looking people and asked them all the questions that came to mind. Not giving them the chance to answer.

Tanjiro smiled at all the kids who surrounded them, they reminded him of his siblings when it was time to eat or going out to play.

"Are Grandpa's weird stories true?"

Tanjiro's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought demon slayers weren't that well known.." Tanjiro questioned Zenitsu.

"INOSUKE STOP TRYING TO FIGHT THE KIDS- huh? Oh uhh I guess it's a folklore around here.. maybe to keep the kids from walking out at night or- INOSUKE NO"

"LITTLE ONES FIGHT MEEEEEEEE!!!"

"No! No Inosuke these are kids, you know? The ones we don't fight!" Tanjiro quickly reassured. "Huh? Why not?? Their just like us but smaller! They can fight!!"

"Oh you got to be kidding me-"

"[Name]! I didn't know you were coming this early- oh hi! Sorry.. I thought you were someone else.." Ashai apologized, he thought [Name] and Ashai came earlier due to the ruckus outside in front. Instead he ran up to a couple of strangers in weird clothes and a shirtless boy in a boar hat.

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

So why did this take me a month to post? It's not even that long..

I'll edit this in the morning and answer the other asks in the morning as well.

Remember that requests are still open and have a nice night/day/afternoon/universe

#Demon slayer #Rui #kny #rui demon slayer #kny rui #oneshot

[caffeinated-cryptid]

bishop to castle; check.

3.8k words | AO3 link | tags/warnings: suicidal behaviour, risk of falling from a height, talking someone down from a ledge, hurt/comfort, platonic roceit, positive ending.

“After weeks of moping post-POF, Janus goes into the imagination to find Roman. They end up having a much more intense conversation than he could have ever planned for.”

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

Janus hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Roman since their last argument. It was fine, probably, he justified to himself, despite how Patton had returned from their talk with pursed lips and worriedly furrowed eyebrows. He likely just needed time to process everything that had happened, and Janus wasn’t going to push that. 

(His reluctance to address the issue had nothing to do with the fact that he dreaded another confrontation. Totally not.)

After all, forcing his presence on Roman now could potentially only make things worse. So instead he would just have to wait for him to come around first-- to calm down enough to be willing to hear him out without resorting to name-calling.

Janus was plenty busy anyway, what with his new position in Thomas’ life. More than smoothing over one less-than-steller relationship with a side (which Janus was collecting like pokemon cards recently, it seemed), he elected to focus on ensuring Thomas held true to his promises of self-care, which meant working with Patton more often.

That wasn’t so terrible, at least it wasn’t as bad as the him from a year ago would have expected; the side was trying harder to welcome his contributions which he appreciated. Though inadvertantly through this new partnership, he found himself being dragged into more casual hang-outs, where they would do nothing but...chat. Sharing daily anecdotes and worries and secrets about themselves. It was strangely open and the sort of thing Janus had to adjust to, but with this new friendship he had found himself in, he did his best not to ruin it.

“I’m getting worried.” Patton admitted one day, setting down the tv remote after a finished screening of some Air Bud spinoff. How Janus had been wrangled into watching that ceaseless dog series was beyond him. “I think the others might be starting to come around to you, but Roman...”

Patton didn’t need to finish his sentence, because Janus already knew what he meant. With Virgil and Logan, he’d been making an effort to try to prove his worth as a member of the team (whether or not that was working was yet to be seen, despite Patton's generous assertions that it would all work out eventually), but he hadn’t even gotten the chance do to that with the creative side. As much as he had first assumed that time and space would do the trick, it seemed like that wasn’t the case after all.

 “I suppose a confrontation is inevitable.” He grimaced, knowing that this had been put off for long enough.

“Would you do that?” Patton asked suddenly, looking to him with relief. It made Janus realize that it sounded like he had signed up to go talk to Roman himself.

“Uh...” Janus tensed, his previous concerns surfacing again. “I don’t think I would be the best suited to have this conversation-”

“Oh- Pleeease? You two need to talk most of all! Besides, when I went, he wouldn’t even...” Patton trailed off, biting his lip with a pout. “...Could you try, at least? Maybe you could get through to him.”

“...Alright. I’ll go before lunch.” Janus agreed begrudgingly, rewarded by Patton’s grateful smile. Stupid puppy face. That would have to stop working eventually.

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

That was how Janus found himself in the lawless lands of The Imagination.

It had filled him with dread, knocking on the red and gold door and recieving no response. Even more so when he risked intruding anyway and seeing the wrecked state of the room, and then noticing the entrance to The Imagination wide open.

Unsurprisingly, that was where he found the side in question. More surprising was when he did, finding him sitting on the edge of the tallest turret of his castle, like he had decided to overlook his kingdom in the most dangerous way possible. Janus wasn’t so naive to assume that was all it was though.

Roman probably saw him approach as he ran the rest of the way to the castle, and that pushed him to go faster, dashing through the lonely walls of the old building until he was climbing up those spiralling stairs all the way to the top. When he finally made it, he stood there doubled over and completely out of breath as he adjusted to the high altitude winds that bit at his cheeks. He used the seconds he took to catch his bearings to figure out what to do-- his eyes never once leaving Roman’s back, who luckily hadn’t moved at all during his frantic dash. Perhaps his insticts had been wrong and there was nothing dangerous going on here. Every part of him screamed to stay and stop whatever this was though-- so he did.

“Roman.” He ended up saying once his breath had evened out, and nothing more. There was too much going on in his head to break whatever balance they currently had; too much to ask, too much to say, to explain, to defend, to try to understand.

Said side turned his head slightly to make eye-contact; not facing him, yet it was acknowledgement at least. “Deceit.” He said after a beat. His voice was cold, but not angry, and for some reason Janus would have prefered it if Roman were upset with him. Anything but this odd indifference that made him feel guilty for not summoning up the courage to check in sooner.

“Janus.” Janus corrected in an invitation to use his name. He intended it as a sign of goodwill, but Roman’s face twitched and he looked away again, this time his focus on the ground directly below.

“I came to talk.” Janus said in an attempt at a distraction. He was disheartened when Roman made no move to acknowledge him again, so he continued despite his uneasiness. "Would you please come down?”

“What? Scared, Deceit? I'm not doing anything. I'm not going to either, so you can go back to whoever sent you and tell them I’m fine.” Roman scoffed and the string of lies felt bitter in the fridgid air, enveloping him like an unwanted hug. If possible, Janus’ heart begun racing even quicker.

He wanted to protest and say that he had come of his own volition, but Janus knew that lying right now wouldn’t do either of them any good. “In that case, would you do it for my peace of mind?” He tried instead, and it earned him a wry smile, sent from over Roman’s shoulder.

“What ever gave you the impression I care about that?” Roman shot back, standing up only to turn on his heel to step down into the crenel next to him, then back up onto the the next merlon. He continued, going up and down and slowly circling around Janus like a predator would it's prey, but somehow he didn't feel like the one being hunted here. Actually, it was more like he was trying to convince a mouse that the cheese on a trap wasn't worth it. And being a snake himself, that simile was especially ironic.

“...That’s fair. We can talk like this, then. I wanted to apologize and hopefully make amends.”

Roman’s footing twisted haphazardly and Janus all but shot forward to steady him until he was given a deadly glare that froze him in his tracks.

“Stay back! You're not fooling me again. As far as I know, you'll just try to convince me to take a swan dive right of the side of this tower. No greater depth to plummet to than that, huh?"

“I- that's the complete opposite of what I want.” Janus stressfully replied, fighting against the urge to pull Roman off of the edge and end this whole thing himself, instead holding up his hands as a sign that he wouldn’t come closer. God, where had he gone so wrong go end up in this situation? He should have convinced Patton to come with him when he had the chance-- at least he probably would have had a better idea on how to get through to Roman when he was like this. Comparitively, Janus had no clue. He didn’t have the trustworthiness or the years of friendship.

“I believe you. You've already made it so clear just how much you care.” Roman replied sarcastically. Janus felt his hackles rising.

“I’m not lying! I didn't want any of this.” Janus gestured around. “There's so much I wish I could take back, but especially whatever I did to cause this.”

“Oh, Janus.” He felt a small dose of hope when Roman finally used his name, which was quickly dashed as he huffed out a laugh. “Always thinking you have a finger in every pie. Isn't it enough for me to come to this conclusion by myself?”

He continued bitterly, practically stomping his way around the edge of the tower now. “It's not like it was hard. Even an idiotic egomaniac prince like myself can tell when he's not wanted anymore. When the dream has died.”

Janus, despite the silver tongue he may possess, struggled for words in the face of Roman’s insecurity. He had wanted the anger because he had assumed it would be easier to prove that he wasn’t as evil as Roman was so keen to accuse him of being. He just hadn’t expected this issue to be so deeply sensitive. (Though perhaps he should have picked up on that hint when he saw the other side looking ready to jump to a temporary death). “Thats not true at all, you’re incredibly important and all of us need you. Perhaps we’re operating under new rules now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not wanted.”

But it seemed that wasn’t the best thing to say. Roman stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable as he began shaking with fury or perhaps something else. “...If I’m ‘so important’, why does it never feel that way? Why am I the only one who has to change constantly for rules that can never stay the same? Why do I have to make sacrifices and tone down my voice?”

His controlled tone got louder and more stressed. “Why are my best efforts never good enough? Why are my doubts ignored? Why is it considered fair to disparage my work? To ignore the blood, sweat, and tears I put into everything?”

Janus stared in horror as Roman kept going, yelling over anything he could have possibly wanted to say.

“Why does it take this to be be fucking noticed?!”

Both of them paused when his rant reached a screaming crescendo and fat angry tears rolled down Roman's cheeks.

"...Forgive me if I'm having a little difficulty trusting what you say right now.” He sniffed, ducking his head away to wipe his eyes. The words were distant despite the soft way they were uttered.

Once again Janus was lost for what to say as he watched Roman compose himself. There was simply too much there to unpack, too many years of built-up stress and resentment. What in the absolute hell had these sides been doing all this time? “...I do wish to take some responsibility for that, though. Your hesitancy to trust again.” That seemed like a good place to start, if any.

Roman only snorted humourlessly at his efforts though, voice tired and unenthused. “I'm sure you would. It's a lot easier to sweep aside a broken vase rather than acknowledge its cracks when they’re forming, after all. That was the lesson you taught us, right?”

Janus winced at the callback to his first appearence to Thomas. He didn’t necessarily regret that day, but having it thrown back now made it feel like something to be ashamed of; seeing his lessons interpreted in such a way. “...Is that how you see yourself? Broken?” He asked instead, squashing down his indignation.

He only got silence in return. Janus swallowed, definitely regretting his hesitance to resolve this issue now.

“Roman, even though I doubt you’d trust my words, I promise that we're not trying to simply ‘sweep this aside’. If we're going with the vase metaphor, all of us want a chance to try to glue the pieces back together. Make right on all of the ways you’ve been wronged.” When that got no response, he tentatively asked, “Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?"

“...Broken pottery fixed with gold, I'm aware. But trying to apply that right now is sloppy, even for you. People are never so beautiful after being so thoroughly broken, nor is it that easy." Slowly, Roman sat down on the edge, and even though his legs were dangling over the wrong side, Janus' heart finally felt some semblance of rest. He took a step forward.

"I disagree. Kinstugi is rarely an straight-forward process either, and yet it achieves such splendid results with just a little patience and care. Which is to say... while it may not be the easiest thing to do, there’s undeniably beauty and strenght in survival. Trying again even when it feels impossible.”

“Of course you'd think that, Mr. Kill or be killed. You have no choice in whether you get to continue forward. But I do.”

Janus paused at that, only four paces away from Roman now. The creative side startled when he peered backwards and saw him so close, and then he glared at Janus as he stood up again, this time facing him fully. His foot slid backwards until the worn-down structure crumbled under his heel, sending rocks tumbling down below. It was a warning, Janus realized as his blood frooze in his veins.

“Don’t look so shocked. I control everything here, or did you forget?” Roman smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile or even a smug one; it only looked like he was stretching his mouth unnaturally, all pretenses of putting on a convincing performance stripped away. “If I want, I could have a Pegasus fly by and save me at the right moment. Or I could expand the moat to catch me. Or..."

Roman looked frustrated for a second when he couldn't think of anything else, even more so when Janus patiently waited for him to think of another example. In the end, he gave up.

"The point is, I call the shots about what happens to me."

"But would you? Save yourself?" Janus questioned hesitantly. He knew he was treading on thin ice, so he left it there. Roman raised an eyebrow at him and he returned it, making it clear that he wanted an answer. He recieved it with a scoff.

“Of course I would. What kind of question is that?”

Lie.

Janus winced. “Roman... You are aware of my ability to detect lies, yes?”

The creative side blinked in surprise and then looked at him with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to be called out. Like it had been so natural to brush aside the question that he didn’t even realize his own feelings. Fortunately, Janus’ ability was too keen to be fooled by one’s own self-deception. He could see below the surface like that; pull people’s hidden truths from them and keep them for himself, like a keeper of forbidden knowledge (Though in moments like these, sometimes he wished he couldn’t. Ignorance truly is bliss).

“Should I ask again?” He pressed. “Are you really planning on saving yourself?”

This time Roman’s face screwed up in confliction and he directed his gaze to the floor of the tower. It was an awfully clinical way to ask, but it felt necessary to stop dancing around what was important-- this casual show of self-destruction.

Eventually, the other cracked with a tired huff of laughter. Sadly genuine this time.

“...It's certainly nice to think that I could.” Roman admitted as he rubbed his face, apparently not mad at being called out this time. “Finally being a hero again, even if it's only to myself.”

Janus paused in shock. Was he still misinterpreting that moment?

“That wasn't a lie.” Janus blurted out, taking even himself by surprise by the thoughtless exclamation. “Thomas still thinks of you as his hero. There’s no need to do things like this to prove it.”

Romans eyes went watery and he avoided his gaze.

“At this point I don't think it matters, when I haven’t been acting like it at all lately.” He whispered coarsely, uncharacteristically quiet compared to the wind. “Frankly, I'm surprised you're even trying to stop me."

Janus eyes softened and he took another tentative step forward, then another when Roman didn't react badly. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m not just Deceit, you know. Part of my job is to help you.”

“...Because you hate me? At this point you have more reasons to than not.” Roman explained warily, looking at him like Janus were seconds away from snapping and shoving him over the edge. It hurt to have that sort of mistrust placed on him, but at the same time Janus understood it. He had often been in that sort of situation before; doubting the safety of opening up to other people. That was just part of his job, to be doubtful and wary in order to protect the self. Yet to see it so openly on somebody else felt like a punch to the gut, even though he should have been used to that feeling of being distrusted by now.

“Do you think me so sensitive that a schoolyard insult would make you my archenemy? Or being called evil? That is...sort of what I’ve been going for.” He cracked a joke, gesturing to his outfit. When Roman kept staring at him he sighed. “Of course I don’t hate you, Roman.”

Roman shifted doubtfully. “That doesn’t mean you like me, either. Maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but you should know how- how being called that hurt me.”

"...Yes.” It was Janus’ turn to be uncomfortable. “Perhaps at first I felt attacked and wanted to make you feel the same hurt, but I would never have said that had I known just how deeply it would have impacted you. I’m sorry for that.”

Roman’s expression turned incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Janus had apologized. “...You know, I wanted to make you upset. I wanted you gone.”

“I figured.” Janus nodded.

“And that doesn’t change anything? Even though I acted so...” Roman bit his lip. “So unheroic?”

Janus stifled a sigh. By now, he really hated that word with a passion. It had caused so many high standards, so many instances of self-sacrifice, so many misguided attempts at selflessness and perfection. Perhaps later they could talk about it all and lay out why it had done so much harm, but for now he decided not to push it, not when he felt so close to getting a breakthrough.

“Believe it or not, but I think that you've been plenty heroic already. This whole time you've been fighting for something you thought was valient and noble, and that means something, even if it was for a misguided cause.”

That took Roman off-guard. He moved his foot away from the edge subtley, and had Janus not been focused on his face, he would have considered it a small victory.

“...What’s the point of all of this, really? Is this some... some dastardly plot?” Roman questioned skeptically. He was looking even more cornered now that he was letting Janus’ words sink in.

“All I'm here for is to offer the helping hand you need, if you’ll accept it.” Janus said softly as he extended his hand up to him. “Really, my only plot right now is to get you off that ledge before you give me a heart attack. Please?”

Roman stared at him, desperately trying to find some sort of mistruth in his eyes before his gaze lowered to the outsretched hand. It felt like time slowed in the seconds he was making his decision and Janus held his breath, waiting...wating... until finally the other side nodded and took his hand.

With Janus’ help, Roman stepped down, looking confused and lost now that he was away from the edge. The expression pained Janus’ heart, so he opened his arms half expecting rejection, only to be taken back by how quickly Roman latched onto him. Janus wasted no time clinging back, so relieved that he actually suceeded that he didn't want to risk ever letting go, like this moment could be torn away at any second. It was no surprise when he felt the other’s chest jerk with held-back sobs until there was a wetness on his shoulder, and he didn't say anything about it. He didn't need to either, because Roman spoke up first.

“It didn’t mean anything. Really!” He exclaimed through messy tears. “I was only thinking about it!”

Lie.

“...It's okay if it was more than that.” Janus soothed, patting his back. “It's okay to feel low and in need of help.”

That made him cry harder and Janus was relieved to see the excess of emotions finally pour out. While waiting for Roman to calm down, he had to fight for his own tears to not spill over. Inevitably, the stress of the situation finally caught up when the adrenaline wore off, and he sagged into the hug, sniffling quietly and trying not to fall over on his aching legs. He really just sprinted up multiple flights of stairs, didn’t he? Belatedly, he realized that he must have lost his hat at some point during the journey because he could feel the wind tousle his hair.

It would have been funny if it weren’t for the absolute rush of emotions he had just gone through.

The two of them stood there for what would normally be considered an awkward amount of time, except the act of simply hugging on solid ground was the biggest comfort in the world, too much to ruin the moment. They waited until they got through the worst of their tears before they dared speak again. Once again, Roman went first.

“Sorry for laughing at you back then.” He said, voice reflecting the yelling and crying he'd been doing. It felt genuine. “I actually really like your name...the mythology suits you. Very dramatic.” 

Janus laughed wetly, finally a true statement. “Why, thank you. And I apologize for where I’ve wronged you.”

Finally, they straightened up. Roman took one look at him and summoned hankerchiefs for them both. Janus accepted it and wiped away his tears as gracefully as he could.

“Hopefully we can have a more in-depth discussion on this later, but for now Patton and I prepared lunch, if you’d be willing to have us.” Janus asked, hopes raised.

“...That sounds good.” Roman smiled.

Janus smiled back.

Together, the two of them descended down the steps of the tower, and the imagination was the slightest bit sunnier when they reached the outside.

#my writing #sanders sides #platonic roceit #janus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #roman angst #roman stans come get y'alls juice #(i wrote this in a Mood so if this is janky i'm sorry)

[youngclaire]

One Last Final Goodbye

I rewrote sending Claire back through the stones at the end of book 2 but from Jamie's POV. I thought it would be a nice way to ease myself into writing these two. This is very book compliant, I actually bad the book open next to me whilst I wrote this in order to translate it from Claire's POV to Jamie's and it was a lot of fun. It's not a copy of the fuller chapter, it's been shortened down in places but the essence is there. I've also removed bits and pieces. Uhh yeah...all dialogue in this belongs to Diana and the book I'm just responsible for remixing the words. Anyway, I hope whoever bothers to read this likes it :)

(This is also my first fic in this fandom with these two so don't expect it to be perfect, it probably isn't)

- - -

He wouldn’t stop for anything; not food, water, or rest. He keeps the horse at a constant gallop at all times, scared that if he paused or hesitated for even a moment he would lose all courage and go neither back or forward.

I shall see my wife safe, is a mantra that keeps him riding. If he is to die tonight or on the battlefield tomorrow, he would not take her down with him; not her or the innocent being she carries inside her.

The stones come into view just above him. A cursed salvation of granite and Jamie tries not to see them, his gaze fixated forward. Behind him, Claire lets her displeasure be known, protesting against the idea. Jamie steels himself against them, clenches his jaw and gallops harder, fighting the urge to give in. This was the only way to see her safe and unharmed, he tells himself.

She protests still, even while he urges her up to the ruined cottage. She doesn’t realise he has no intention of parting with her right now, he just wants time to breathe, to think, to let the panic and worry abate. He sinks to the ground, his body cold and his mind racing.

“It’s alright,” he thinks he hear himself say. “We have a bit of time now; no one will find us here.” He shivers, though from the cold, and wraps his plaid around him.

God, he could still see it; Dougal’s lifeless eyes, the blood pooling out of him, the shock on Willie Coulter’s face. How long before everyone knew? How long before everyone found out he had committed familicide?

Jamie’s head falls forward onto his knees, a tiredness washing over him, fatigue clutching at his bones and eyelids. Tired as he was he could not sleep for fear of the images in his mind’s eye.

His breath comes out in ragged pants and he can barely stand the sound of it. He feels Claire’s warmth and presence beside him, uses it as something to anchor himself to.

What happened in that room and who knows wasn’t the priority, while Claire had yet to explicitly say so Jamie’s fate waited for him on Culloden Moor. Tomorrow he will die and all this will cease to matter. Claire will be safe.

His breathing eases back into its natural rhythm, the panic wilting away from the edges. He’ll take hold of Death’s hand, gladly accept his destiny knowing he did one thing right at last.

“I won’t go, Jamie,” she says, as if she’s read his thoughts. “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie shakes his head. She couldn’t persuade him, he couldn’t change his mind. He needed to do this.

“No,” he says. The firmness bites at him, makes him wince. He hopes she can hear the gentleness that lies beneath it. “I must go back, Claire.”

“You can’t,” she cries. “Jamie, they will have found Dougal by now! Willie Coulter will have told someone.”

Aye, that was a fact he had resigned himself to, a fact she must resign herself too as well. He grieved for Dougal, for the second father he had, but Jamie had done what he’d done- he would take whatever consequence waited for him behind that door. She talks of fleeing to France but it’s no use, he’s chosen his fate, set his heart and mind to it, accepted it. A traitor twice over, a rebel, a murderer…The English will hunt Prince Charles. The English and the clans will hunt Jamie. He was dead either way.

“Claire, I am a dead man.”

He watches the tears freeze on her cheeks. “No,” she says but the effect is lost, she knows he speaks the truth.

“I wouldna get very far anyway.” On its own accord, his hand runs through his red hair that makes him a beacon at all times. Not exactly inconspicuous. “I can save you, Claire,” With his other hand he brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “and I will. That is the most important thing.”

Then he will go back. If he finds he cannot do it for himself then he will find it in him to do so for his men.

“I think I can get them away,” he says thinking the plan through. “Even if it’s known what I’ve done, none will stop me wi’ the English in sight and the battle about to begin.” The plan visualises in his mind and he nods to himself. “I will bring them safely away and set them on the road toward Lallybroch.”

“And then?”

Well…wasn’t that obvious?

“And then I will turn back to Culloden.”

He lets out a breath, strong and final as his decision. He catches Claire’s worried look and gives her a smile.

“I’m no afraid to die, Sassenach,” he says, but then he thinks of that door, black and foreboding, the unknown behind it. “Well…not a lot, anyway.”

He hears a sound a human being should never be able to make as arms fling around him. He finds himself surrounded by Claire, caught in her tight embrace as the scent of her overwhelms him. He clutches her back, trying with all his might not to succumb and cry.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he says into her hair as she cries once more. “A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.” A lie, they both know it, but Jamie will them both to believe it. He’s seen men die in battle, knows how horrifically slow it can be but it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose, that would be the one thing that does not lie behind that door.

“I’m going with you.”

Lost in thought he barely registers it but when he does he reels at the notion, startling backwards.

“The hell you are!” He has a plan, damnit, and not even Claire will deter him from it.

She displays her argument but he will not listen to it, will not give it thought.

“No!” he says. “No, Claire!”

How could she suggest such a thing, knowing what they both knew? How could she be so selfish?

“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either. It will…be over quickly. You said so.”

You said so. What he said was a lie, did she not see that? A lie to comfort them both.

“Jamie- I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, that’s all!”

He had a thousand things to say and none at all. His mouth opens and closes before he shakes his head. Through the gaps in the ceiling he can see daylight dwindling, night approaching. The sky is painted red. Blood of a battlefield, blood of childbirth.

He reaches toward her, pulling her close. He knows where this fight comes from, if the tables were turned he would say the same thing, knows because he feels it too.

“D’ye think I don’t know?” His voice is soft, a whisper. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you- then I am asking you to tear your heart out and live without it.”

She lets out a whimper, clutching him closer. He fingers stroke her hair, whispering soft coos towards her.

“But you must do it,” he finally says, feeling his stomach twist and turn. “Ye must.”

“Why?” She is angry, considerably so. Confused and hurting. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir- you said then you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me had it come to that!”

He had said all that, and to this day, it remains true. He’d have rather died than to be parted with her.

“Aye, I would,” he says. “But I wasna carrying your child.”

The reason he is allowing them to part.

She is surprised, shocked, frozen in place as she looks up at him in bewilderment.

“You can’t tell,” she says at last, shaking her head. “It’s much too early.”

It makes him smile, brings amusement to him.

“You havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first book me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”

She hurls insults at him, shocked he even managed to keep track of such a thing during a war but he had for hope they would have a second chance at raising a child and for fear that it would end like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells him, rattling off reasons for why she might not have bled. It’s no use, she forgets he’s seen her so before, studied all the tell-tale signs of her body changing, committed them to memory.

“Claire…” His voice is quiet, not sounding like him. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me- ever.” He reaches for her hands, needing some part of her to hold. He casts his gaze to their joined hands, running his thumb over her fingers. “Claire, I beg you, see it safe.”

He keeps his eyes downcast while he waits for her answer, scared she’ll say yes, scared she’ll say no. The silence feels long and he shuts his eyes against the twisting of his stomach.

Finally her answer comes.

“Yes.” A whisper in the darkening cottage. “Yes. I’ll go.”

He nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat, hearing the sound of a flower stem snap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After telling her to sleep, she doesn’t sleep himself. Time seemed wasted on that and they didn’t have much of it left anymore. In a few hours he will take her to the fairy hill and part with her forever.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. To brandish his sword and yell and scream and cry but he knew there was no point to it. He knew that what he had been handed was more than fair, that not many men live the life he’s led and are allowed to be rewarded in such a way.

Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, he had said to her, quoting what he would say to God when he met him. God! I loved her well. He had, he could really say that. He took this woman, in all her unbated strangeness, into his broken hands and within her found company and peace, a place to call home.

She loved me well, too, he adds, watching her sleep for the last time. Content and safe, here in his arms and their fortress of cloth. He had healed him with her touch and love and perseverance. Picked a broken man off the floor and carried him through towards the light at the end of the tunnel no matter the setbacks. She really was a rare woman, his sassenach.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, murmurs a quick thank you in Gaelic to God and to the fairies for dropping her into his life.

Pressed against her, safe in their fortress of clothes, her skin warming his bones, his eyelids grow heavy and he succumbs to sleep as the first inklings of tomorrow break across the sky.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was gone.

Disappeared in the same manner in which she had appeared. Gone through the stones and back to Frank.

Jamie presses his hand against the stone. The hard granite presses back on his wound, her mark, the letter C, reminding him it was real, she was real.

Her arisaid lies on the grass, forgotten in their haste to love each other one last time. Jamie picks it up, bringing it to his nose, inhaling her scent still lingering on the tartan. Tears fall on their own accord as he prays she made it back, prays that she and the bairn are safe.

A cannon in the distance booms, startling the birds and startling him. It’s beginning.

He is hesitant to move, to leave the place of their last coupling, his last connections to her.

Yet destiny waits for him on Culloden Moor, along with his men. He pictures the thirty men waiting for their laird.

There is nothing he can do for Claire now but there is something he can do for his men.

He kisses the inside of his fingers, presses it to the stone and bids his soulmate one last final goodbye.

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fic #jamie x claire #jamie's pov #standing stones scene rewrite #i tried ok #and i am scared #im gonna go hide in a hole now #bye

[jaskiersvalley]

Ummmm so I am IN LOVE with your Geralt whump and it’s literally giving me life during this pandemic so like THANK YOU.

I come bearing more Geralt whump for you! Along with a side of angry Jaskier, some comfort and some fluff to boot. Hope you’re keeping safe and well in this pandemic!

Something wasn’t right about the contract. There shouldn’t have been a kikimora so deep into inhabited lands. For one, there weren’t any sufficiently murky bogs for the creature to actually live in. Then there was the issue of nobody having actually borne witness to it or encountered a tragedy with it. Not ever sheep were going missing. But, the advert was there on the noticeboard, calling for a witcher to deal with the creature. Money was low, Geralt and Jaskier couldn’t afford to be picky so the notice was plucked off the board and they made their way to the castle that had put out the contract.

There was far too much excitement in the courtyard at their approach. In fact, everyone seemed to spring into action as they were shown to the Great Hall.

“Witcher!” The count looked so pleased, he even smiled at Geralt. “We have a kikimora for you to kill. Do it well and we’ll even double the original pay.”

The amount of coin in question was more than Geralt would usually earn in half a year. All that for one single kikimora. Even more unusual, he and Jaskier were given a room, a comfortable one at that. They were to rest up and then go to the inner ward in the morning. The one request was that Geralt be ready to hunt straight from the meeting.

It was one of the best nights of sleep Geralt had ever had. The niggling feeling of something being off was so easy to ignore when Jaskier looked so happy. Food, bath, comfort as they both needed and rarely got to indulge in. In the morning, a servant intercepted them, apologetic as Geralt had ever seen anyone around a witcher and asked for Jaskier to accompany him.

“You’ve seen a kikimora a thousand times before, go,” Geralt said, urging Jaskier to go to his fans. A little longer in the laps of luxury while Geralt saw to the kikimora would be good for him. And at least he would be safe in the castle.

He was led to the doors to the inner ward and gestured through. Stepping out into daylight, the doors clanged shut behind him and he was out on the grounds, alone.

Meanwhile, Jaskier had been led through the castle, higher up and to the inner ramparts. They were crowded with nobility and rich merchants, all peering into the inner ward with excitement. A cheer went up and Jaskier was shown to a gap he could see from. Geralt had stepped into what could only be described as an arena from where Jaskier stood. It had been cleared of everything, a perfect battle ground. With a creak, the metal grates of a gate opened up at the far end of the inner ward and Jaskier watched as a kikimora lumbered out. He didn’t have to be a monster expert to know it was sickly, dried out and hungry. Obviously it had been kept in appalling conditions, for the sole purpose of entertainment for the upper echelons.

There was no choice for Geralt. It was kill or be killed. He draw a sword and walked up to the hissing, swaying creature. Jaskier knew Geralt, knew that there was going to be no theatrics, no show. In one deft step to the side and swing of his sword, the kikimora fell to the ground, head almost completely severed.

All the cheering stopped. The show and entertainment that had been anticipated was just a dream. Slowly, the ‘boos’ started and built into a raging, baying howl. They were going to have to leave and quickly. Jaskier pushed his way through the angry crowd and hurried back to their room, intent on packing up as hurriedly as he could. By the time Geralt was back, everything would be ready for travel.

It took longer for Geralt to return than anticipated and Jaskier was getting impatient. Finally, the door clicked quietly and Geralt stepped through, head bowed. A pouch of coin was thrown onto the bed without a word.

“Geralt!” Jaskier almost sighed his name in relief at seeing him. Silver hair hung in Geralt’s face but, as he moved, Jaskier swore he caught sight of eyes that weren’t their usual white and gold. It made no sense, there had been no need to take potions, especially not something like cat. In fact, Jaskier was quite sure they were low on potions and possibly didn’t even have any. “Geralt?”

When there was no response to his question, Jaskier reached out and gripped Geralt by the chin, turning his face to look at him. There were no potions at work and Jaskier gasped, hand reaching up to brush over the swollen, bruised skin. Geralt’s eye was red with burst vessels from where something had struck him.

“What the hell happened?” Jaskier asked, horrified. The kikimora hadn’t put up a fight, hadn’t even got beyond looking funny at Geralt before it died.

“Doesn’t matter. Got paid.” Geralt tried to step around Jaskier, doing his best to hide a limp. “Let’s go.”

There was no way they were going anywhere when Geralt was in such a state. Hands on hips, Jaskier pressed his lips into a firm line and watched as Geralt reached for a bag and his breath caught before he pushed through the pain.

“Put that down.” When Geralt refused to listen, Jaskier marched up to him. “You put that down this instant, get out of your armour and let me take a look. I need an inventory before I take me next step.”

In testament either to how much Geralt trusted him or how badly he was hurting, Geralt let the bag drop from his shoulder and let Jaskier help him out of his armour. Bruises, welts, skin split under strikes began to reveal themselves and Jaskier’s hands shook with rage.

“Fucking entitled bastards,” he cursed. A hand swept over bruised, likely cracked ribs. It looked like somehow had take a metal chain to Geralt and tried to whip it around him. “They’ll be so sorry they tried this ploy.”

He struggled to imagine what could have happened once he left. Whether the angry mob had swarmed the inner ward to take their fury out on Geralt. Or maybe Geralt had been summoned to the Great Hall and a select few of the count’s inner circle had been granted the alleged privilege. Though that would mean Geralt hadn’t fought back. Then again, this was Geralt, of course he wouldn’t have fought back. Probably had convinced himself he deserved it too.

Down to his smalls, Geralt let Jaskier do as he pleased, too tired to protest anything. Even when Jaskier gently bullied him into bed and told him to rest, meditate and take it easy.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. It wasn’t often that Jaskier openly wore a weapon but he pulled his sword from his pack and strapped it against his hip. Marching out, Jaskier set off on a warpath.

In less time than anticipated, he was back and was pleasantly surprised to see Geralt was exactly where he left him, eyes closed and seemingly at peace. It was all a ploy, Jaskier knew he wouldn’t relax, not when alone in a castle that hurt him so badly.

“We have three days here, everything is at our disposal. Nobody will bother us. Food, bath, creature comforts, I talk to someone and it will happen.”

Gingerly, Jaskier sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked through Geralt’s hair, holding back a wince when his eyes opened. One was still a deep, blood red, likely would be for a couple of days before Geralt healed. It was just as well they had a few days in a protected space. If the masses saw Geralt as he was, no doubt there would be more tall tales about witchers.

Softly, Jaskier began to hum, lulling Geralt to sleep.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” he promised, one hand on his sword’s hilt, the other in Geralt’s hair. The soft murmur Jaskier got in return could have been a ‘thanks’ or a hum of sceptical amusement, it didn’t matter. What was important was that Geralt got his rest and dignity.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt whump #the witcher #tldr: nobility as scum and trick geralt

[ourloveisforthelovely]

In Love and Death Part 2

Harry Potter 

Link to Chapter 1

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- light  smut

_____

Hot water washed over your sore joints. The heat was a welcome change from the chill of the hotel room. You rubbed a hand through your soaking hair. Regulus hadn’t joined you yet. You frowned. Normally it would take him all of three seconds to hop into the shower with you. Heat plus your naked bodies being pressed together was enough to entice the man into anything that you wanted.

Your mind went back to the previous conversation. Regulus’ aversion to going back to the order and coming out as a couple made sense. You knew that your friends, Moody, in particular, wouldn't take it well. Hell, your own father probably wouldn’t take it well (had he been alive). You didn’t remember much about his temper but from what your mother said Evan could go off over the smallest thing. His best friend dating his daughter would be a sure way to set Evan off.

Thinking back to Evan Rosier, you couldn’t help feeling a little sad. You were four when he was killed by none other than Moody himself. The world didn’t know the same Evan that you knew. They didn’t know the man who gave up most of his own dreams in order to be a dad at 16 or the man that would sit on the floor of the Rosier family manor to play dolls with you (he wouldn’t admit the latter part but you knew it happened.) The world only saw the death eater that thought it was smart to come up against Mad-eye Moody and didn’t live to see the next day.

You closed your eyes trying to remember what you could about Evan. As you got older you were beginning to forget the little things like his voice, the way he held you as a child, and the way that you would sit on his foot in some pathetic hope to keep him home. Pictures only went so far.

After you grew up and got away from your family’s ignorant ideals, you began to realize how crazy your father really was. He never should have been out running around with Voldemort. Evan should have been at home being a good father. Your grandmother was kind enough to raise you for the first year while Evan and your mother finished school. Running around with a maniac and getting killed was a pretty shitty way to repay her.

Regulus was another source of confusion for you. You could only remember bits and pieces of him. You were two when he technically “died.” The most you could really remember about him was pulling his hair when he would come to visit your parents.

Grandmother would die if she knew…

You could already see the horrified expression on her face when you would bring Regulus in for the first time. The old woman would probably think that she was losing her mind.

That would be slightly desirable

You thought with a smirk. Your grandmother was just like the rest of your family. Snarky purebloods who thought that they were better than everyone else. Maybe it would do her some good to come back down to planet earth.

Regulus’ arms wrapping around your waist pulled you from your thoughts.

“Took you long enough.”

You said as Regulus shoved his head under the water. Flipping his hair over his shoulder, he shoved you back against the wall. He wrapped both of your wrists in one of his hands and held them over your head.

“Sorry.”

Regulus said before trailing his nose down your neck to your shoulder.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to go back?”

He asked, softly. You lifted a leg over his hip trying to pull Regulus closer.

“We don’t have to.”

You replied. Regulus stood back up straight. He stroked a finger down your cheek.

“And we will be hunted down like dogs.”

“They’ll have to get used to it...you and I. I’m not giving you up to appease anyone.”

Regulus let your hands go so he could cup your face.

“I think that I’ve been a bad influence on you. Before you and I got together you were this sweet little girl that wouldn’t say the word fuck now you are talking about sassing Mad-eye Moody. I have to say that I’m impressed.”

You smiled as Regulus peppered kisses down your cheek.

“You’re the first guy that I have ever given a damn about.”

Regulus lifted you enough to align himself to your entrance. You didn’t wait for him to tug him down instead you sunk down onto his length. Regulus groaned, holding his head back. He was going to miss being able to have you whenever the hell he wanted. Since Regulus started sleeping with you, he began to see why his brother was such a manwhore. Sex was actually very nice!

Maybe if he played his cards right, the two of you could get away from Grimmauld Place soon enough. Being back home was the last place that Regulus wanted to be. Between Mad- eye watching his every move, his mother’s portrait profeessing her undying love for him, and Kreacher holding onto his leg sobbing like an emotional toddler; being home was exhausting.

“What a coincidence, you are the first girl that I have ever given a damn about. Now pay attention to what I am doing to you.”

Regulus said with a grin before leaning in for another kiss.

(The next morning)

Both Regulus and yourself stood outside of Grimmauld Place staring at the door handle with matching frowns.

“So, we are on the same footing here?”

You asked. Regulus nodded.

“Yes, if they give you a hard time. I’m coming in and cleaning things up. They won’t want that.”

“Then we apparate the fuck out of there…”

Regulus nodded.

“Sounds nifty.”

Before you could say anything else, Tonks opened the door and pulled you into a fierce hug that left the two of you on the floor. She wrapped herself around you like an oversized cat. You ignored Moody who was muttering about “did they forget how to open doors?”

“Y/n, I have missed you! I missed your face! I missed everything about you!”

Tonks held your face in her hands as she looked down at you from your place beneath her. It took all that you had not to laugh at your best friend's over the top dramatic greeting. You couldn’t have expected anything less from Tonks.

“I missed you too.”

You said with a smirk as Tonks started stroking your hair. The moment that her eyes landed on the love bit that Regulus left on your neck, her mouth dropped. She glanced over her shoulder at Regulus. He didn’t make any facial expression upon realizing that Tonks had put the “secret” together.

“It was then that they realized that neither one of them needed a man.”

Both Tonks and yourself jumped up the moment that Sirius spoke. You have Sirius a scowl.

“In your wildest fantasies.”

Sirius grinned. He enjoyed the fun back and forth banter that the two of you had when it came to sex.

“Let me go get a drink and I will gladly sit here and watch. Neither of you has to touch me.”

Both Remus and Regulus were glaring at Sirius now.

“Shut up, Sirius.”

Regulus snapped. Sirius grinned even wider before his vision stopped on the love bite too. You watched as his mouth dropped before he glanced between Regulus and yourself. He leaned over to Remus and held out his hand.

“You owe me a ton of chocolate.”

“It's not what you think.”

You said, assuming that Sirius figured that Regulus and yourself were just sleeping together. What you didn’t know was Sirius and Remus had made a bet that the two of you would end up in a relationship. Knowing Sirius the way that you did, you assumed the bet was just sex-related.

“It's exactly what he thinks.”

Regulus replied. Tonks had her hand over her mouth and you went to stand beside Regulus. You wrapped your hand around his as Moody walked in.

The older man automatically frowned. Your goal was to tell your friends in a “soft” calm manner but now you weren’t surprised. Nothing in your life ever went according to plan.

“Both of you in the living room. NOW!”

Moody snapped. He stormed in the room fighting the urge to wipe that sneer off of Regulus Black’s smug little face. Moody waited until the both of you sat down before speaking.

“How long?”

You were the first to speak. It was probably a good idea that you did the talking. If it were Regulus doing the talking, hexes would start flying in seconds.

“Right after we got to Greece.”

Moody growled. His attention locked on Regulus.

“I told you to leave her alone.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to back down from Moody.

“Let me tell you something about Y/n. She doesn’t do a damn thing that she doesn’t want to. Besides, it's not your decision upon how she lives her life.”

“Did she do you too?”

Tonks asked. Both Regulus and yourself turned to stare at Tonks. Had the situation not been so serious, you would have laughed at the expression on her face. You were thankful for Sirius who was giggling so hard that Remus had to reach out and pinch him.

“Sure. Tonks. I have sex with every guy that I go out with!”

You snapped. Tonks frowned.

“And Regulus is okay with this?”

Remus put a hand on his girlfriend’s back.

“You aren’t helping, love.”

You quickly stood up.

“I am going to say this once. It isn’t anyone in this room’s decision on who I am going to be with. I’m an adult.”

“He was there when you were born. That is messed up.”

Moody snapped. Regulus’ scowl intensified.

“Remus is older than Tonks and I don’t see you bitching about that. Apparently, you are forgetting the fact that I was 18 when I died and look at that...still 18.”

“Fine, it's because you are a death eater. You should have stayed dead.”

“Alastor!”

You snapped his name as Moody turned to face you.

“I’m not watching you throw your life away on some death eater because you have unresolved daddy issues from your father's death.”

Everyone in the room became instantly silent. You blinked a few times before Regulus reached out for your hand.

“Love…”

You shook yourself loose and stared at Moody with heartbroken eyes. This was by far the cruelest thing that he had ever said to you. That comment was worse than how he treated you when you became an auror. He didn’t trust you then because of whose daughter you were and it took you forever to gain his trust. Once you did, however, he adored you and treated both Tonks and yourself like his own daughters. Now you felt as though you had been slapped in the face.

“I don’t have daddy issues. My father made his decisions. You were the one that blew him away. He made bad decisions in his life but that isn’t Regulus’ mess to clean up. That was Evan’s fault not Regulus’.”

Moody frowned.

“Let me make this simple for you, Y/n. You are an auror and a brilliant one at that. You have potential...a spark. Don’t throw your life away for some death eater with a bad attitude.”

You stood in silence for a moment not looking at anyone but Moody.

“That's enough.”

Regulus said, in a warning tone. He had no issues with hexing Moody. Whether the two men were on the same side of not, Regulus was not going to let him upset you anymore. The comments about Evan were below the belt. You didn’t ask your father to make poor decisions.

You recovered after a few moments of trying to keep your Rosier temper under control.

“Fine. I quit. I’m done. You can take this auror job and shove it.”

“Y/n…”

Tonks said, gently. You shook your head brushing off your best friend and partner’s attempt of trying to “smooth the situation over.”

“I’m done.”

You turned and walked from the room leaving everyone in silence. Regulus smirked at the shocked expression on Moody’s face. That was one way to shut the man up.

“You’ve been most helpful.”

Regulus said coldly before standing up and going in the direction that you had gone in.

You stood in his bedroom angrily staring at the wall when Regulus finally caught up to you. Kreacher was busy whispering to you in some hope of cheering you up.

“Kreacher, that will do.”

Regulus said as the elf looked up at him with those teary eyes. At the moment, the last thing that Regulus wanted to do was deal with a pissed off girlfriend and a sobbing elf.

“Yes, master Regulus.”

Kreacher muttered before popping out of the room. Regulus was a bit surprised that Kreacher didn’t beg to stay. Since Regulus had come back, Kreacher was finding any excuse to be in the same room. Regulus figured it was because he was the one person (except you) that was remotely nice to the elf.

Regulus closed the door behind him and cast a quick silencing charm. The last thing that he wanted was for anyone downstairs to be listening at the door.

“You sure showed them.”

Regulus commented before kneeling down in front of you. Your blue eyes met his and Regulus had to fight the urge to stomp back down the stairs and chew everyone out individually. He wasn’t for sure why he was so mad at Sirius and Remus. They had been mostly quiet through that whole fiasco but Regulus could find something.

“What was said when I left?”

Regulus shrugged before gently pushing your backward on the bed and planting himself on top of you.

“I really don’t know. I made a snarky comment and left too. I’m sure they are tearing us apart right now. You know, I really didn’t expect you to go and quit your job. Watching Moody look so stunned was rather amusing though. I wish that I had one of those muggle cameras.”

You smirked.

“Your cell phone has one.”

It took all that you had not to giggle at the unamused expression on your boyfriend’s face.

“I hate that thing.”

“You’ve gone through 4 in two months so I kind of got the idea. Was I wrong down there?”

Regulus shook his head.

“No. It took all that I had not to open my mouth. Look, I don’t need any of those idiots downstairs to make my life happy.”

“I make you happy?”

You questioned. Regulus raised an eyebrow before leaning down and kissing you. The sugary sweetness of the moment would have made him gag years ago now it was welcomed. Now Regulus was ready to soak up any bit of love that you had to offer him.

“Of course. All I need is these blue eyes, these full lips, and this smart mouth.”

You laughed.

“I’ve never heard anyone say that they enjoyed my smart mouth.”

Regulus took your hand and placed it on his crotch. Giving you a small smile, his fingers started on the buttons of your dress.

“That should answer your question, silly girl.”

“I would rather do this than be downstairs.’

Regulus nodded and tugged his shirt over his head.

“For the record, I have never had a girl in this bed.”

You quickly started unbuttoning your dress.

“Maybe you should take that silencing charm off of this room so we can make everyone very uncomfortable?”

____

@fairywriter-oracle

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@mycuddlycorner

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #sirius black #Remus Lupin #nymphadora tonks #mad eye moody #evan rosier #timothee chalamet as regulus black #regulus black fics #harry potter au #the rosier family #the ancient and noble house of black #the order of the phoenix #former death eater regulus #In Love and Death #In love and death update

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Save Him

Warning: A total rewrite of Carry on because…well…it’s shit. And maybe not from start to finish, the beginning half of the episode was good. No other warnings, just a feel good fic to help cope with the end of SPN.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: Events are after the fight with the vampires.

Word Count: 1,369

Mobile Masterlist

Summary: Sam and Dean go on one last hunt. But just before the older Winchester can accept his fate, his little brother fights for him one last time.

(My opinion, the acting was awesome. Jared and Jensen deserve all the Oscars after that performance. Just, story-wise, it’s shit. Too fast and rushed. And out of character, Sam didn’t even call 911, or put an attempt into saving Dean. They just accepted ‘fate’. After they said they’re better together, and worthless apart. Dean saying, he sees him retiring from the life in Season 13, and actually seeming like he was looking forward to it. Sure, it’s the only way to end the show, but too soon. Dean deserved more, and Sam’s kids deserve an uncle. The boys deserve to grow a family of their own. But that is just my opinion, Jensen and Jared will forever be my favorites.)

~

“It’s okay,” Dean says. Fighting off the pain as best as he could. “It’s okay, it’s good.”

“It’s good.” He says, smiling.

“No Dean, this is not good.” Sam argues. Clearly upset and freaking out his older brother is dying and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Unless…

“Jack!” he calls out, pacing the barn.

“Sam, don’t.” Dean groans. “He said he was hands off.”

“Jack if you can hear me, save him. You owe us that much!”

Moments later Jack appears in the barn.

“Jack, save him.”

“Of course, Sam. You don’t have to ask me twice.” Jack says. Snapping his fingers. Snapping the boys back to the bunker, Dean fully healed. Miracle running over to them, greeting them with licks and tail wags.

“But I thought—”

“I owed you guys that much. For all the things I’ve done to you, Mary. I just wanted to not only make it up to you guys, but to give you a proper chance at life.” Jack explains.

Dean stood there, speechless and taken aback by Jack’s reasoning. He was still wanting their forgiveness, and he did it by bringing Dean back to life.

“A proper chance?” Dean asked.

“I got Cas out of the Empty and we’re working on making a world just for monsters. So, this world can be free of them. No more monsters, no more hunting.” Jack says.

“That’s amazing Jack, thank you.” Sam says.

“Yeah, that’s awesome.”

Jack smiles on his family. “Anything for my family.” And vanishes.

“So,” Sam goes. “What now?”

“Now, we start living.”

 5 years later…

After 5 years of leaving the bunker and living the apple pie life. Sam, managed to get back together with Eileen, and have been married to her for two years. Sam working at a law firm agency, having gone back to law school, and graduated recently with honors.

Dean’s story. Dean always liked working around cars, he liked working with his hands. Dean tried his hand at school, wanting to open up his own garage. Not being a fan of being bossed around and such, following in Bobby’s footsteps. Opening a garage, scrap yard, fixing up cars, reselling them. Restoring them. At Winchester’s Restorations.

It wasn’t until a few years later, after his garage has been opened, and the Winchester’s are living comfortably in their apple pie life, he had a visit he didn’t know he was waiting for his whole life.

It was a stormy night, his garage normally closes around 8pm, later than most garages in Lawrence Kansas.

A car pulls up to his garage, sounding god awful. The engine making a noise even he didn’t like the sounds of it.

Hurrying outside, he urged the driver to shut off her car. She does so.

Grabbing her things, she gets out of her car.

“My car has been making this noise all day today, and just as I’m driving home from work the check engine light came on.” She explained. “Now, I know you do restorations, but what about just, regular like, garage stuff like fix up cars like mine.” She asked.

“I know what you mean, and yes, I do that stuff too. Let’s get you squared away so I can do it tomorrow.” Dean says with a smile.

They hurry inside to get out of the rain.

Dean grabbed the correct paperwork, having her fill out her information of her car and her contact information and the problem. And handing it back to him.

“Alright, I’ll start on it first thing tomorrow.” He tells her.

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s not a problem.” He says with a smile. “Do you have a ride home miss?”

“Um, no I don’t. I’m new to Lawrence.” She says.

“It’s totally fine, I have no problem giving you a ride, if you like.” Dean offered.

“I don’t know you.”

“Just thought I’d offer.” Dean says.

“My name is y/n. I’m from Nebraska, and I’m a writer.” She says.

“Dean Winchester, I’m was born and raised here.”

She nods. As the two get to know each other.

Dean happily gave her the ride, she accepted happily given the storm not lighting up.

As Dean sat outside her house, while she gathered her things and got ready to head in.

“I really enjoyed your company Dean, maybe you should call me some time.” She offers.

“I’ll take you up on that offer sweetheart. See you soon.” Dean smiles.

She smiles back, as she exits the impala, she’s taking a number of times looking back at Dean. She shuts the car door behind her, running inside so as to not get soaked by the rain.

Dean keeps an eye out to make sure she is in the house, safe and sound before driving off.

Only to make a turn seeing the road flooded. Turning around he tries another route to getting out of the neighborhood, getting the same road.

It had been raining all day that day, and well into the evening. It’s no surprise if the creeks and rivers have gone over their banks, or even the storm drains having a hard time keeping up with the rainfall. So, he drives back to her place.

Rings her doorbell. She opens the door after a few beats. Dressed in her more comfortable clothes, sweats, oversized t-shirt and a pair of big warm socks.

“Problem?” she asks, when she sees him.

“Roads are flooded, kind of trapped here.” He says sheepishly.

“It’s not a problem, come on in.” she offers

She had popped in a couple of frozen pizza’s in the oven while Dean got himself comfortable.

She headed up to her guest bedroom, where she had spare clothes stashed away. From number ex-boyfriends who have forgotten most of their clothes. She grabbed Dean a pair of sweats and a comfy t-shirt.

She heads back downstairs to offer Dean the clothes.

“I have some clothes, hope they fit.” She offers.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, thanks sweetheart.” He says, taking the clothes.

“Bathroom is down this hall here on the left.” She points out.

Dean makes his way to the bathroom, getting out of his work clothes and into the comfy clothes offered to him.

The beeping of the oven going off as he exits the bathroom.

“Hope you don’t mind, I heated up some pizza.”

“It’s okay, I am starving, thanks for offering.”

She smiles, offering him a styrofoam plate of pizza.

 Dean spent the night that night, and every night since then.

After that night, they bonded over stories. She learned of the places he’s been, she knows he’s keeping a major part of his life secret. But maybe it is for the best that she doesn’t know the hell he has been through.

 As the years went on, Sam and Dean having families of their own. Sam had his son, who he named after his brother Dean. And Dean having him kids of his own, two boys, twins and a girl. Kevin, Jack and Charlie.

Monsters really were a thing of the past. But the people over the years up to this point, the people Sam and Dean have saved, made stories. Like heroes to legends.

They lived their life, happy and to the fullest.

Sam and Dean died of old age in their homes, surrounded by family and those they love.

 Up in heaven, where Bobby sat on the porch of Harvell’s Roadhouse and waited for the boys to enter heaven.

“It’s about time you boys showed up.”

“Bobby?” Dean asks.

“What memory is this?” Sam asks.

“This ain’t a memory. You’re not living in your golden years anymore. Rufus just lives about half mile that way. You’re parents there.” Bobby pointed out.

“Wait, mom and dad are here?” Sam asked. Bobby nods.

Sam taking off, Dean following him.

They catch a glimpse Dean’s Impala, with his old Kansas plates, KAZ 2Y5. Dean excited he sees his old baby again.

“Let’s go see our family.” Sam says. Dean smiles, agreeing.

Dean turning the key in the ignition of the impala, roaring the engine to life.

The radio playing Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas.

“God, I love this song.” Dean sighs.

“Same.” Sam says.

~

Dean Tag List:

@luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @winchest09​,

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 12/2/2020

#spn #supernatural #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #spnfanfic #dean x reader #deanxreader #dean x reader fic #deanxreaderfic #deanxreader fic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfic #supernaturalfanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spnfanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernaturalfanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #spn 15x20 #spn 15x20 rewrite

[badwolfe359]

Just Be

Another post 15x19 coda because I'm losing my mind waiting for the finale and this is my attempt at self-care

Read on AO3

Read on FF.Net

Everyone is back.

Bobby, Charlie, Donna, Eileen.

Everyone. Right back where they were when they got snapped.

Sam embraces Eileen, tears running down his face.

Charlie shoots a questioning look at Dean, a look that says what the hell happened? but he just shakes his head and pulls her in, blinking hard to keep from crying.

They make their way back to the bunker, feeling lighter than they have in...well, ever. The biggest bad to ever bad has been defeated and the new God is basically their son so, #blessed or whatever it is the kids are saying these days.

Sam disappears off with Eileen. Dean walks into the library and stops.

What now?

He should be happy.

He is happy.

They defeated Chuck. No evil hanging over their heads. No one pulling their strings. They're free.

Free to do what?

He collapses into a chair and stares at the initials carved into the table.

Everything he has been avoiding thinking about.

Everything he has been avoiding feeling.

There is nothing, now, to focus on. There is nothing to distract him.

His mind takes him back. To the despair he’d felt when they’d barricaded themselves in the dungeon. Realizing that Chuck had been responsible. That he was going to die there with Cas. That everybody was going to die. And he couldn’t do a damned thing.

And then the hope. When Cas had turned and started telling him about The Empty.

...

I made a deal to save him.

The shock at first, at hearing that Cas had made a deal. The worry that had risen up in him at what it could possibly be

The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness

The fear at hearing what the price was. And then confusion at why he was bringing it up now.

I wondered what it could be, because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have.

Possibilities flew through his mind. What is it that he wants that he can’t have? Getting his wings back maybe? Restoring heaven? Rejoining his kind in his home? Another thought crept forth but he had pushed it away. No way could Dean Winchester be the cause of an actual angel’s happiness.

But I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.

Saying it. Saying what? What could Cas possibly have to say to Dean that would let him be happy? A small morsel of hope had begun to bloom in his chest but he tamped down on it. In no way would this lead there. In no universe would Castiel’s happiness include him.

I know how you see yourself, Dean.

No.

You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken.

No.

That's what drives you. That's who you are.

I AM broken. So what is this?

It's not.

No.

Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.

No.

That is who you are.

He was having trouble computing. The kernel of hope in his chest was expanding but his mind was still refusing to accept that Cas meant anything of what he was saying.

and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me.

Knowing Dean had destroyed him. Knowing Dean had gotten him killed, made him weak, damaged and destroyed, vaporized and crazy and hunted and vilified. Knowing Dean had taken an angel that was capable of astounding feats and chained him to a life of pain and misery.

I cared about the whole world because of you.

There were tears sliding down his cheeks. Dean had never seen Castiel cry.

I love you.

His mind raced. How could this awesome, powerful, celestial being take one look at Dean Winchester and think he was worthy of this? How could this literal angel believe that sacrificing himself for Dean was even remotely the right thing to do. He begged Cas not to do it. Not to leave Dean with this. Because there was no way he could live up to the person Castiel saw him as.

A creeping, liquid sound from behind him made him turn and there it was, The Empty.

So it must be true.

He turned back.

Billie broke through the warding on the door.

He needed to say something.

What could he say?

Time was running out.

Goodbye, Dean.

...

He has thought a lot about it, in the intervening days. What would he have said? Words had never been his strong suit. He was a man of action. But there had been no time for that either.

He has never thought of himself as a good person. Has always figured his role was to hunt monsters so that other people didn’t have to. Spending forty years in hell certainly hadn’t helped in that regard and it had only gotten worse, first the Mark of Cain, then the Darkness. If there is one thing Dean knows, it’s that he is not, has never been, worthy of anyone’s love.

Especially not that of an angel.

And yet Castiel professing his love for Dean is what had called The Empty. It had made him happy enough for the deal to be completed.

When Chuck had looked up at him and called him a killer, it had thrown him right back into that quagmire of self-loathing except this time, the hope that had bloomed had taken root. He hadn’t really thought about it before he’d said it. That’s not who I am. It had taken him aback a little to realize that he actually believed it.

He stares down at the initials and pulls out his knife.

Footsteps echo in the empty halls of the bunker.

He looks up.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean sits, paralyzed.

“Cas.”

The angel smiles.

“How…”

“Jack.”

Dean stands on shaking legs, his breathing shallow.

“He told me what happened.”

He takes a few tentative steps forward, thinking for sure that any moment he is going to wake up or Cas is going to disappear or he’s going to turn out to be Lucifer…again.

“How you guys saved the wor-”

The hope that had been born the moment Castiel said out loud everything that they had been dancing around all these years, that had faltered when he’d opened the bunker door after it had carried him in a mad dash up the stairs, but had not died, that had instead, fueled him to keep going, to be kinder to himself, blooms so brightly and Dean picks up speed, careening into the angel and pulling him tight with everything that he has.

He lets out a stuttering breath. He can feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but for once, he doesn’t try to hold them back. He feels Cas’s arms wrap around him and he sighs into it. He feels Cas’s eyelashes brush his neck and he presses his cheek against the angel’s hair.

They stand in silence, holding onto each other.

“You can have it.”

He mumbles it into Castiel’s trenchcoat. Cas pulls back.

“What did you say?”

Dean knows there are tear tracks on his face but he makes no move to wipe them away. It is time to stop running, time to stop deflecting, time to stop ignoring what is right in front of him. He’d just stood up to God, he can do this.

The angel in front of him believes he can do this.

“You can have it. All of it.”

Castiel frowns and his head tilts. Dean laughs and rolls his eyes.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

Cas looks shocked, his eyes wide. And then he surges forward, and Dean meets him in the middle.

It isn’t groundbreaking or earth-shattering. There aren’t fireworks, or cannons, or explosions. 

It feels like watching the highway stretch out into the sunset with the windows rolled down.

It feels like that first sip of water had after he’d clawed his way out of hell.

It feels like sitting on a dock in the sun, fishing.

It feels calm and serene and perfect. Like everything has slotted into place and the world has let out a great sigh of relief.

They’re interrupted by Sam’s pounding footsteps.

“Hey, Dean! Have you seen-”

He cuts off as he skids into the room and stops.

He stares at them. They stare back, Foreheads pressed together and Dean’s hand still on Cas’ cheek.

“Cas.”

“Hello Sam.”

Sam lets out a few shocked breaths before his face breaks into a wide grin.

“About fucking time.” He lets out a soft laugh of relief.

Dean lets out a laugh too, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to Cas’s forehead and then turning back to his brother.

“You wanted something?”

“Not important,” he shakes his head, “I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.”

He turns to leave and then turns back.

“I’m really happy for you guys.”

Dean tamps down on the instinct to turn and run from the sheer volume of emotions currently happening in his vicinity and instead nods.

“Thank you Sam.” Castiel answers for the both of them.

“It’s good to have you back Cas.”

“It’s good to be back.”

Sam looks to Dean.

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean braces himself for whatever is about to come.

“Yeah?”

Sam’s eyes soften.

“I’m proud of you.”

The urge to run from the moment is strong but he fights against it and nods, his eyes swimming with tears. Castiel’s hand squeezes his shoulder and he feels safer, braver.

He clears his throat.

“Thanks.” He says softly, looking back at his brother.

They share a moment before Dean has had enough and breaks eye contact, “Now get out of here, bitch.” He is only so strong.

Sam chuckles, “Whatever, jerk.”

He disappears off into the halls of the bunker with one last smile. Dean turns back to Cas who is looking at him like he is the center of the whole universe. Dean feels that warm swell of hope calm to a placid ocean of love and he lets himself just sit and bask in it.

No more running.

Happy to just be.

#supernatural #spn fanfiction #Destiel #destiel fanfiction #coda #15x19 inherit the earth #15x19 #15x18 #spn #dean winchester #castiel #Songstress42

[summahsunlight]

Reader Request

Title: Never Told You

Rating: T

Word Count: 1162

Pairing: Poe x Pilot!Reader

Summary: From 50 Angsty Questions Prompt list (here), “#3 What would you do if I didn’t come back?”

Warnings: More fluff than angst to be honest

Reposted! This was a request from anon: “Can I get #3 with Poe please?” I do not know why but when I post an answer to the ask, it doesn’t show up on the tags. Remember you can still make a request until Friday❤️ Hope you enjoy this one!

It had been an ambush. Your squadron had little time to react and since you had gotten what you came for--you order them to make the jump to light speed.  It was the last thing you remembered saying--the last thing you remembered happening.  

Just as your squadron prepared to jump, they watched in horror as your ship was hit and as it went spiraling out of control to the surface of the planet. Somehow, in your free fall, you had managed to pull your oxygen mask on and eject, the x-wing crashing to the planet below you in a fiery blaze. But on your way down to the surface of the planet, your parachute snagged on a jagged tree branch, it tore in half, speeding up your decent.  

Slamming into the rocky terrain, you fell an additional two meters before your battered body came to a stop against a massive boulder.  That was where the rescue team found you hours later, unconscious and barely clinging to life. They brought you back to base but the medical droids were skeptical that you’d make it through the night.

By some miracle you did end up making through the night, and the night after that. You were in a coma but you were alive, and fighting. 

Stubborn woman, Poe would call you all the time, especially when you were arguing over mission preparations. Most of the time your stubbornness drove the commander crazy--these last few days he was incredibly thankful for it--because he was sure that it was what kept you alive.  

He’d been broken since you were brought back to the base, actually, he’d been broken since  your squadron returned without you and informed him that you had been hit and went down. Poe may have teased you that you were a thorn in his side, but the truth was, he was in love with you--and he had yet to tell you.  Everyone knew about the feelings you harbored for Poe but never in your wildest dreams did you think he reciprocated those feelings.  Now, as Poe sat by your bed in the medical bay there was a very real chance you were never going to find out. 

They had tried to pull him away, tried to get him back to his quarters to sleep, but he only left your side unless he was absolutely needed. “Wish they could tell me if you’ll wake up,” Poe murmured, wiping at the dried tears on his cheek. “There’s so much I want to tell you. I should have just done it years ago but...turns out... I’m just as stubborn as you... or I’m an idiot.”

Pausing, Poe glanced at your unmoving form. He gently smiled. “You would probably tell me I’m a stubborn idiot if you were awake.” Sighing, he shook his head. “Hearing about you being shot down, hearing that your squadron wasn’t sure if you had even survived the crash... my heart broke because... because I thought our chance was gone...I thought I’d never get to see you again.. I didn’t think you were coming back, love.”

“What would you do if I didn’t come back?” your voice was nothing but a whisper, and your eyes weren’t even open, but you had heard him.

“I’d hunt down the pilot that shot you out of the sky, that took you away from me, and kill him,” Poe said, coldly, affirmatively.

Slowly you opened your eyes to look at him.  You could tell he had been crying, there were tear stains on his tan skin. It was also obvious that he had not gotten a lot of sleep. “Rather...irrational... for just...one of your pilots.”

Poe swallowed, anxiously. “Y/N? Don’t you know that you’re more than just one of my pilots?” His deep, warm brown eyes searched yours for any sign that you knew what he was saying--but you remained expressionless--and his heart fell. Maybe you didn’t feel for him the way he thought you did....

... there was something in his eyes, something about the way he was looking at you that had you questioning everything you previously thought about your relationship.  Was it possible that Poe had feelings for you? You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly shook his head, interrupting you.

“Forget I said anything,” Poe said, sharply. “Clearly I misread the signals.”

“Poe...” you gasped, reaching for his hand. “You didn’t...”

“I’m glad you’re awake, that you’re okay, Y/N,” he continued, ignoring you. “I’ll let the others know.  Your squadron is going to be thrilled you’re fine.”

“Dameron!”

“What!”

“Please, just shut up and listen to me,” you snapped, with a soft smile on your face to show him that you were not upset. 

He nodded his head, some of his dark curls falling across his forehead, and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Poe, you didn’t misread the signals. I... it just took me a moment to realize what you were saying and... I didn’t ever think you could feel about me the way I feel about you. I’m nothing special.”

His eyes shot up and his mouth fell open slightly. “Nothing special? Is that what you think of yourself?  It’s not true, sweetheart. Your squadron was torn up when they thought you had died--they’re still torn up that you’re hurt--all of them are afraid of leading the squad because they don’t think they can do it as well as you have.  Y/N you are special. So stop that line of bull shit thinking okay?”

You felt tears gathering in your eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had told you that you were special, to know that your squadron cared so much about you touched you.  Swallowing, you anxiously asked, “Am I special to you, Poe?”

Poe raised his free hand and brushed your hair back, then he brushed the back of his hand along your cheek. “Do you even have to ask, sweetheart?” He leaned forward then and kissed you, softly. “I love you.”

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“To be honest--I don’t know.”

“Stubborn man.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I... didn’t think... you know what, I don’t know either.”

“Stubborn woman.”

Smiling, you felt sleepy all of a sudden and you managed to mumble that you loved him, as your eyes grew heavy. You didn’t want to go to sleep, you wanted to stay awake and talk more with him... talk more about the feelings between you and were you were going from here.  But damn your blasted injuries and the trauma your body had been through--it was demanding rest.

Poe stroked your cheek and urged you to go back to sleep, to rest so you could heal and be back out there arguing with him over ever decision that was made, being the giant thorn in his side that he had fallen in love with.

#reader request #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #150 followers celebration

[maryellenjunior]

There is a cutter whose name is Death

Geralt takes Ciri under his wing. That was the least he could do. Guilt fills his blood with every look he gives the young woman. He's bound her to him. Because he thought he stood above the gods, above destiny. So he fucked this child's life. What for? To finally not feel so alone anymore? They are silent. Both of them. Geralt is confused. Now that he has his child. This child that he strangely loves more than he's loved anything ever in his life. Now he doesn't know what to do. And it seems the gods are not smiling upon them.

War.

Nildfgaard has attacked and ravages upon the free lands like cancer. More often than enough they are waiting in supply lines, sneaking around borders. But of course they are not the only ones. Everyone is running.

Plague.

A good companion of war, Geralt thinks. They find their first plagued village a month after their union. Ciri is devastated. Geralt doesn't know what to say, how cheer her up. What can you say about death?

Death.

Geralt know death, plague and war. He's seen them. Often. His first Roach had died because he couldn't feed her. A cruel drought had killed the crops, made grass rot. His horse had simply died of hunger and he had been too young, too naive to kill her mercifully. Strangely that had been the first time he had seen death. It  had kneeled beside her. One cannot describe death. You just know it is. It doesn't frighten you. Or maybe Geralt has gotten used to it. Plague he had seen in a village near south. A small one. It hadn't paid its debts to its lord, so he had called a magician to set a warning example. It had worked. Geralt remembers vaguely that he had visited the lord. Immune to human sickness he had stolen a pair of gloves from this village. Oh...the warm handshake he had given the lord. The lord died horribly, while Geralt and the magician had been hunting several ghouls. War  he had first seen later in his life. War is not something to pull off easily. War costs money, soldiers, lives. Lives that normally would fill the halls with corn, apples, fill bellies of greedy lords. But still, Geralt had seen war. Burnt villages, burnt cities. And he knew...he knew it could rebuilt. The villages would bloom again, cities rise, strive again. But how do you explain something like that to a child? A child, that has seen too much for its eyes, too much death, to understand: death is the answer to life, not its enemy... Strangely he hasn't seen death on their path. Geralt wonders why. He pulls Roach a little tighter to him, while Ciri tries not to fall asleep on her. Their path leads to Oxenfurt. They need supplies. And though villages have more supplies... Cities have walls. It is a wearying game of what is a better way to survive. Actually Geralt hopes to find Yennefer there. He has heard rumors. That she had been fighting Nilfgaard, only some months ago. Maybe there are mages in the city-

Oh.

Death is in front of him. Standing on the bridge. On the bridge to Oxenfurt. Ciri gasps. It looks grotesque. They are hanging from the bridge, swinging softly in the wind. At least 200 men and women. That at least is what Geralt can count, from far. Death is giving him a look.

Oh.

They are hanging from the walls as well. A red cross on their gates. A red cross is one simple warning.

Plague.

"They must have hanged those who tried to flee from the sickness...," Geralt murmurs. Death is again looking at him. It doesn't have eyes. A mask is covering its face. It smiles. A smile of teeth covered in blood. He swallows, takes Roach's reign and turns around. Fear is burning his skin while he tries not to sit back on Roach and gallop with her far, far away, where death cannot find him. A small fire is crackling. Both of them can't sleep. Ciri glances at him. But he can't speak. HIs lips are tied. Why does the thought of a plagued Oxenfurt frighten him? Yen would have teleported herself out as soon as the word plague made the round and no one could have stopped her. She is too powerful for that. What is it with Oxenfurt? Yes, of course, he has never seen that city so utterly hopeless, Oxenfurt, the city of students, high education, the city of...

poetry. songs. ballads.

He gasps.  His body caught in a coldness he knows. The chill of death. Ciri stares at him. She opens her mouth. A shadow glooming behind her, Geralt reaches for his sword.  He makes the Aard Sign but a small brown hand turns it into nothing. Lilac and gooseberries fill the air. "Yen," he whispers. The magician's face looks tired in the crackling  fire. Shadows dance upon it. Ciri looks at him. He nods. When Yennefer sits down, Geralt watches carefully. Yen's face ...is not that of a young woman anymore. Wrinkles around her eyes and frowns upon her forehead. Her lips dry. Even her dress...it is simple, made of linen. She looks like a peasant woman. She sits down next to Ciri and expands her hand. "My name is Yennefer of Vengerberg. I am a friend of Geralt."

Again is Ciri glancing at him. He sighs. "You can trust Yennefer, Ciri." For a moment everything stills. Then does Ciri take Yennefers hand. Yennefer smiles softly. Then, she turns her head sharply at Geralt, her eyes cold and hardened. "Geralt," she spits, "you must go back to Oxenfurt, at once." She stands up and throws him his bag. "He is in there, Geralt. He didn't want to leave, said it would not become a fucking disaster and now the order of the fucking mages cut the magic from Oxenfurt. I can't get in." Yen's glare is cutting him into pieces, but a last look at Ciri gives him enough strength to say: "He is dead, Yen. If not now, then by the break of dawn. Trust me. They've hanged 200 men from the bridge. Their walls are covered by hanged people. The rest is dead from the plague. I will not leave Ciri-" "You fucking ignorant prick!" Her scream reminds Geralt of a panther that had watched its cubs murdered by hunters for fun. He doesn't know what she went through these last months. But she is not strong anymore. Desperation screams from her, it lingers like  a deadly poison on her whole appearance. He pities her. "Dont give me that look, Geralt!" Her hands are cramped into fists. "You have no idea what kind of shit I had to see these last months. Just fucking go there and see if he is alive." "I might be immune, but Ciri is not-" "Give her your fucking antibiotics! He is your friend!" Silence. This time Geralt doesn't really trust his voice. He coughs two, three, four times. "Yen," he tries, he really tries, this lump in his throat growing bigger and bigger. "I-" It is Ciri that takes his bag, desperately tries to put the saddle on Roach. "Let's go Geralt," she murmurs, her voice mere but a whisper. "Let's go back to your friend. He needs us." They arrive at the bridge at dawn. The dead are still hanging, silence having thrown a thick blanket on the whole city. And again Death is standing on the bridge. But this time it extends its hand towards him. He breathes. The smell of death making the air sweet. He wants to vomit. Yennefer is shivering and holding Ciri. Her violet eyes staring at him. "If I'm not back by noon-" Ciri hugs him by his hip, pushing her fingers harshly against his back. He kisses her hair. A small chill touches his back, little fingertips grasping at him. Goosebumps. The urge to vomit. To run. Adrenaline fills him worde than any poison he knows. One step after the other. Sweat breaking out on his forehead, the back of his neck. While he concentrates on nothing but smiling death, a grotesque hand covered in bandages , extended at him. The last step. He stands in front of the gate. Death standing next to him. He hasn't taken that hand. He looks at it. Never in his long life had he ever stood so close to Death. It's breath is sweet, its clothing covered in mud, no eyes, no nose, simply a mask with no features at all besides a bleeding mouth. It rises its left hand against the gate with such a soft gesture as if it is afraid to wake someone...or something. Geralt breathes. Closes his eyes. Takes one step, two steps... Opens his eyes. He's heard once of hell. A place where cruel souls that have not worshipped the gods, go to and rot, are tortured. Stories, he thought, stories people make up at night to have a little scare one in a while, to try to get people to be nice to each other. Or maybe these stories...are true. Because sometimes humans experience such vile, such cruel atrocities, but not done by humans, no...done by little bacteria that kill and kill and kill and kill... The city is a mass grave. He will not find Jaskier here. There are just too many. Too many corpses on the street, too many in the houses, too many piled literally piled upon each other in little shops. He goes through this city, take one step after the other, tries not to breath, not to think, not to feel. It seems they first tried to burn the houses that were infected. Geralt doesn't want to imagine the screams of terror,  begging to leave the city...

Oh. Death. standing there at the temple.

And a voice. Singing an old song.

There is a cutter whose name is death Whose powers come from the gods He grinds all his knives So they are cutting much better Soon he will cut us We just have to wait and suffer Beware my little dandelion!

Geralt sees him. He's sitting on the stairs of the temple, a blond girl in his arms. She is dead. Geralt can smell it. Her dead eyes are staring at him. She must have been expecting... Jaskier's eyes are closed. His face pale like a vampire, dark circles around his eyes, his cheekbones remind Geralt of a skull.

How many thousand are not count? Which dies under the cutter's sickle? Red roses, white lilies He will all cut you down, You imperial crowns! Oh! The cutter will get you all! Watch out my sweet buttercup!

Death is sitting next to Jaskier. It's watching him, its head resting on its bandaged hands.

"JASKIER!," he growls, sprinting forward. He must end this madness. All of this must end now. He can't anymore, he can't...all of this is wrong, it's so wrong... Blue eyes watch him deadly. Death still sits there. Only Geralt's legs are shivering while he holds a trembling hand towards Jaskier. "Jaskier. Please. Come with me." Jaskier coughs. Blood spills everywhere, around his mouth, down his neck, on his filthy shirt. No, no, no...please...please let this be a nightmare, please, someone wake me up. Little blood drops landed on Death's mask. It grins. "Jaskier. You are sick. We must get you out of here." "She's expecting my baby, Geralt, you know?" It feels like someone is cutting him with a deep knife into his back, again and again and again. Jaskier's voice is nothing more than a whisper. "Her name is Priscilla. I am way too old for her. But she refused to let go of the baby." "Jaskier...please." Jaskier shakes his head. "Just listen Geralt. I can barely stand. Just...listen, okay?" Death draws nearer to Jaskier, putting its head on his shoulder. Jaskier doesn't seem to notice. Geralt sits down. He takes Jaskier's right hand. It's cold and limp. The knives in Geralt's back don't stop. He wishes they were real, so he didn't have to feel anymore, think anymore... He takes a deep breath, smiles at Jaskier. "I will listen, Jaskier."

#COUGHING #SORRY FOR THE ANGST #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x dandelion #the witcher netflix #im sorry guys #please ...it will get better #i guess? #hehe #this corona is doing things with my brain #i do not recommend reading decameron by boccaccio

[rebel-in-white]

The Perfect Ending for Dean and Sam? - Supernatural 15x20

As I read reviews about the Supernatural series, nothing disturbs me more than reading things like the title of this essay, “This was the Perfect Ending for Sam and Dean.” It’s disturbing because as fans of this 15-year show, we are accepting mediocrity. Far from being a perfect ending, this was one of the worst television show endings that I have ever seen because the characters weren’t allowed to change and grow. 

When I watched the Supernatural series finale, I was struck by the realization that this could have easily been the finale of season 1. In season 1, we were dealing with Dean’s feelings of being second best, Sam wanting a “normal” life, Dean choosing the dangerous world of hunting, and the value of saving the innocent despite the dangers. In episode 15x20, the episode implies that we are still dealing with the same themes from episode 1, even though SO many events have passed, and Sam and Dean dealt with their own issues in varying ways. Dean’s death during a mundane hunt harks back to season 1’s warnings and omens about the dangerous life of a hunter. Meanwhile in season 15, the Winchesters are fighting God and survived that battle. Sam’s “happy” ending harks back to his desire to be with Jessica and find a happy, “apple pie” (normal) life. Meanwhile in season 15, Sam has lost everything… again. He lost his adopted son, his good friend, his mother for the second time, his surrogate father, his girlfriend (what happened to Eileen?), and his brother. Also, let’s not forget that Adam died and was a Winchester. Season 15 does not agree with, and contradicts, its final episode. 

Everything that has happened after season 1 and right before the series finale doesn’t matter. That is the message the series finale communicated with fans. Some fans might be alright with this message because it’s such a long series, too much has happened, but there are many fans who have avidly watched these characters grow and change. They themselves have grown and changed with these characters! Watching the finale felt like a slap in the face, a surreal dream, because the writers and the show-runner shut the door on any type of meaningful change that has occurred throughout the series. Throughout the years, Sam and Dean were able to create meaningful connections outside of their partnership, noticeably with Jack and Cas. Both were only mentioned. That merits repeating again. Castiel, who had become a fan favorite in the series, only gets a few mentions. Dean, the one with whom he shares a profound bond, shrugs off his death and continues enjoying his pie. Like the last 12 years of developing that friendship, emphasizing their bond, and teasing fans with their deep connection meant nothing. Because ultimately, the show sent a clear message to its viewers: it doesn’t matter what these characters have gone through, it doesn’t matter the people who have come and enriched their lives, but what matters is where they started. The journey, and the accompanying life experiences, don’t matter.

I read a really hurtful review about the series finale that implied that Sam could only be happy on Earth because his brother had died. He was no longer his brother’s keeper, so now he could have everything he wanted- a family and normalcy. That was the Sam of season 1 - before his brother died for him, before he died for his brother, before his demon blood addiction, before he saved the world numerous times, before he adopted a half angel kid into his family, before meeting his Mom again. All of those experiences profoundly change a person. His idea of normal and happiness changed, became vastly different. The show hinted at this when we saw the names carved on the table in episode 15x19. Sam stopped running away from hunting, his duties, struggled with his destiny, and fought for his freedom and seemed content with what he had. The show even implied a budding romance with a fellow hunter, Eileen. Sam from season 1 would have turned away from all this because it interfered with his desire to be normal. However, this was shoved at Sam in the most confusing, contrived, and sickening manner. After Dean dies during the series finale, Sam mopes for a bit, then he goes on a hunt, and reverts back to Sam of season 1 with ease. He gets everything he’d wanted- an unnamed, unseen wife and a child who he names Dean. If Sam from episode 15x19, 15x18, from any episode after season 1, saw this ending for himself, he would have run away screaming. He wouldn’t be able to accept it. Why? Because that’s not what he wanted for himself anymore. He wanted to be with his loved ones, which included Dean plus his extended family. 

If Sam’s ending was problematic, Dean’s is inconceivable. This is a character who has struggled with so many issues and low self-esteem and has gone through so many ups and downs that to see him die, impaled on a nail by clowns, devastated and confused many fans. I actually laughed out loud when he died because it was so ridiculous. It hurt to see a beloved character treated like trash, then proceed to accept his death with arms wide open. Where was Dean’s desire to live? This is the man who survived hell, saved the world several times, sacrificed himself for Sam, and had to fight daily to survive. And I don’t mean in a I’m-a-hunter-and-life-is-dangerous way, but in a real, this-world-is-fucked-up-and-I-can’t-do-it anymore way. 

That was what always attracted me to Dean. His fight to survive in a world that didn’t make sense to him, and his ability to cling to life despite feeling too broken and inadequate. For many of the fans, they resonated with that and admired him for his grit and his humanity. In the series finale, Dean gives up. He accepts death, accepts this strange looking heaven, even though he was weirded out by heaven when he first encountered it. He rides around in his car- alone and waiting for Sam. That’s what Dean boils down to- alone and living for Sam. The show sends a message that Dean doesn’t deserve anything else. Despite everything he’s done throughout the 15 years of this series, Dean can’t escape his destiny to die on a mundane hunt.  The same death that had been foreshadowed in season 1. With only his brother with him to see him go. Dean fought so hard to be free from Chuck’s stories and from his own demons that to see him reduced to drinking beer and riding around in the Impala felt like he’s regressed 15 years. And some fans think he deserved this? What has Dean done to you?

Dean had potential to show growth and to show true change and progress through a possible relationship with Castiel, but the show metaphorically gave its queer fans, their allies, and narrowed minded viewers a big middle finger. Yes, even people who hated the idea of Destiel, you should be angry. Instead of the show stretching your thinking and challenging you to accept something different and progressive, the show decided to pat you on the head and feed you some metaphorical shit. Please don’t eat it. Throughout the show, there had been signs that Dean and Castiel shared a profound bond that extended into a romantic subtext. It started with the angel’s entrance and charisma, and Dean’s acceptance of him into his life (very rare for Dean to form lasting relationships), and it ended with a confirmed love confession. Now, imagine that you’ve been hoping for years that all these hints, looks, and jokes would go somewhere. That maybe someone will validate your views and make you feel like you’ve brought progressive change to television. Well, that’s what it felt like to be a Destiel fan after episode 15x18. Destiel became half canon! Castiel declared his romantic feelings to Dean, which Misha Collins confirmed to be of a homosexual nature, but he knew that he couldn’t have what he wanted. He died to save a shell-shocked Dean Winchester. Not only did the show kill Castiel, but they sent him to hell (granted, he didn’t stay long), and they sent Dean Winchester, the man who stayed “straight,” to heaven. 

This was problematic in many ways. One, the message is homophobic, heinous, but subtle. If you’re gay or queer, you are thrown away, never to be seen again because your feelings will upset the masses. It’s what happened to Castiel, a confirmed queer character. When episode 15x20 finished and Dean hadn’t even mentioned Castiel out of his own freewill, I was upset. Here comes the second problem. This show had used queer-baiting for the past 12 years or so to keep its numbers up and to keep itself on the air. It used queer-baiting to a most hurtful and insidious way to attract viewers to the series finale. Then, they shut it down after teasing something that several, enthusiastic fans had wanted for years. Why open this pandora box if you aren’t going to do anything with it? What is the point? Leading people to create false assumptions, playing with people’s emotions in a negative way, reinforcing negative heteronomative stereotypes- this is what the show has accomplished. This is its legacy.

I wrote this essay to free myself from this show. After this, I am not a Supernatural fan anymore. This show has left a bad taste in my mouth, and I want nothing to do with it or anyone associated with it. I urge you to free yourselves as well and also to not accept this mediocrity that Supernatural gave us. Stop other shows and networks from manipulating and leading on its fans. Stop them from ignoring years of growth in order to feed you the same story and keep you mediocre and small. I know the pandemic of 2020 made things difficult, but that’s no excuse to create the subpar work the Supernatural writers/show-runner/staff did. With just a little bit of creativity and intelligence, they could have produced something great, no matter the obstacles. I used to believe in that.

Supernatural, thank you for the years of enjoyment, but I never want to see you again.

#supernatural #supernatural series finale #supernatural series #dean winchester #sam winchester #cw spn #carry on #supernatural 15x20 #15x20 carry on #essay

[zodiyack]

Forgotten Love

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: Fluff, torturing and death, angst, a couple swear words, lyrics, SPOILERS

Song: Forgotten Love by AURORA, (the song’s meaning is a bit different for this fic than what it’s supposed to mean.)

Note: Bold + italic = Lyrics, italic = memory/flashback

masterlist

Can you tell if I’m cold? If I'm out of daydreams?  If I lose what is loved? Will a new love await me? I am touched by wonder, When I am blind in the dark

Y/n sighed for the hundredth time that day. Draco begged for her to come back to him after their fight the night before. It wasn’t the first fight, nor was it the first time he pleaded for her forgiveness. However this fight was the one she was sure would end it all. He had a dark mark, not letting her see until she found it herself. They fought, his excuse of how it was “none of her business” only making it worse.

She was sad, sleepless, bored, still..almost as if her mind had died but left her body behind. He was the same, not eating, doing well in school, or even talking to his family or friends. They knew needed each other, but they refused to admit it. He even saw the way she was acting, and she saw how he was, they worried for each other secretly. Draco was scared that he was losing his bond with her, as lovers and as friends.

The h/n (house name) girl was confused and crowded with emotions. She didn’t know whether to feel angry, frightened, hurt, or if she should just ignore the situation and continue on with her boyfriend since 3rd year. They hadn’t officially ended it, but the tension whenever the two were in a room together said something was happening. Y/n knew she loved Draco deep down, unsure if Draco actually loved her. The truth was, it was the same exact situation for him. He grew more curious each day she ignored him.

As Y/n rested her head on her pillow, she thought of him anew. He filled her thoughts again and again. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to fall asleep. All she could think about was Draco and their fight. Did she say the right things? Could she have done anything different? If she could... would she? It was all nagging at her. Regret and sorrow replaced her worry and anger. Could she even recover from this in the future? Would anyone trust the girl or give her a chance like Draco did?

She fell asleep with more stress than she woke up with, dreams and thoughts of the Slytherin Prince not escaping her head. Maybe she wasn’t seeing things right. Maybe she was seeing them the way they actually were. She’d never know until she took a step back and examined the situation as a whole.

But you drown me in daylight, Don't swim with me darling. I prefer the sound of you, When you are away

Draco watched his aunt Bellatrix torture a random mudblood girl, not really paying attention. Neither him, or Y/n knew it of each other, but they both missed one another. Draco missed y/n, her smile, her hair, her voice and when she would reassure him that he was loved and not like his father. He missed everything about her. He missed her ever so much now that he was out of Hogwarts and staying with the rest of the Death Eaters. Y/n missed him and his blonde locks, snarky comments that would make her laugh, the flirty praise that made her turn beat red. The 3 words he spoke ever since the day she found him weeping on the floor in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, as well as the action he made after he had said them.

“Draco?”

A shuffle was heard, then Draco cleared his throat to speak up. “..who is it?”

“It’s me Dray, y/n.”

“Oh. I’m over here...”

She walked over to the puffy eyed boy. His nose was red and snotty, hair a mess and tears staining his face. Y/n gasped, rushing down to his level and brushing the hair out of his face. “What on earth happened to you!? Are you alright?! Tell me.” She mumbled something at the end of her sentence that caught Draco’s attention.

“No it’s okay. I’m fine, you don’t need to hurt anyone, I did this to myself.”

“Oh...you heard that....” He nodded and smiled slightly. “Um...but for real, what can I do to help?”

“Sit with me.”

“Is that all? Just sit with you?”

“Just sit with me.” He pat the ground next to him and wiped his eyes free of tears.

“Okay..anything else?”

“No..I just need it to be us right now...” He inhaled then turned to her, “Thank you. This means a lot to me, even if I don’t act like it. The truth is...I love you. I may be an arse, but I really do love you.”

The young girl’s eyes widened. She took a couple seconds to register what he had said before she could respond correctly. “I love you too Dray...Y-” Y/n was interrupted when Draco tackled her in a hug, crying softly into her shoulder but hugging her tightly. At that moment, they held onto each other as if it was their last moment together, neither of them wanting to let go.

His aunt interrupted his sweet but emotional trip to the past with news. She was excited to announce that the Dark Lord wanted Draco to do something for him that was of great importance. She cackled and left Draco to dream once more of his forgotten love.

If I am left with a rose in my hand, let it die, It's the beauty in forgotten love! And I don't care if you don't understand why I cry, It's the beauty in forgotten love!

Draco came back to Hogwarts to fulfill his quest of killing Dumbledore. The headmaster isn’t surprised, having expected the blonde and the death eaters. Draco was full of fear, he didn’t want to kill Albus, even Dumbledore himself knew that. Albus remained calm and reasoned with Draco. Informing him of his knowledge of Draco’s plans and insecurities. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group got bored and hurried to the two.

Snape killed Dumbledore that night, Bellatrix and the death eaters wreaking havoc on the school and scaring the students in it. Bellatrix stopped at one part of the school, calling for Draco with a smile that could only hint bad things. He approached his aunt and dropped to his knees once he caught sight of the scene in front of them. Y/n lied limp on a table in one of the classrooms, a wilting rose in her hand. Draco knew that rose. It was the same rose he had given her for their 4th anniversary. 

He pushed into the room, shaking her awake. Matching tears fell down their faces. The slytherin boy didn’t care who saw him cry, they could piss off for all he cared. Right now, all that mattered was his y/n, who was looking up at him with the same puffy eyes he looked at her with when he had told her he loved her. She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, whispering to him softly. “You didn’t forget me...”

He nodded and put his hand over hers, “No, I could never forget you. I love you y/n.” She shook her head and smiled at him. It confused Draco greatly. She wasn’t dying, but she acted like it, she wasn’t safe, but it didn’t affect her, she loved him, but she wouldn’t let him say that he loved her. “Why won’t you accept that I do?”

“You need to let me go.” He nodded again, but inside he refused to give in. It was like making a pinky promise but crossing your fingers. He would let her be, but when the time was right he swore he would make it up to her. Draco grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles and forehead, leaving the building with his group that had tagged along.

I forget how emotions dance when they aren't inside of me. I forget how the sun feels when she isn't around me. And my dreams become sweeter when something is missing. I'm in love with the hunt itself It makes me feel alive, alive

Y/n slept soundly that same night, dreaming of the love she told Draco to stop holding onto. Her favorite memories making her smile without even noticing it. Draco was gone, but that didn’t upset her. She knew he loved her now, and it was all she needed to know in order to continue with more hope than she had before. 

She felt alive for the first time since their fight. She felt alive when she remembered the good times they had together. She felt alive knowing that he was still alive. She felt alive after their first kiss, and she felt alive when he kissed her goodbye. She felt alive with the chance that he might kiss her the same way he did before they grew distant. However, what made her feel alive the most was knowing he was still out there, somewhere, waiting for her find him.

It came as a surprise to Hermione when y/n kept a straight face everyday, hardly saying a word. If only the gryffindor knew what y/n was actually thinking about behind her emotionless mask.

If I am left with a rose in my hand, let it die! It's the beauty in forgotten love! And I don't care if you don't understand why I cry! It's the beauty in forgotten love!

 Hun går Ölessu Hun går ferilisseræna féressu Hun går Ölessu, Hun går ferilisseræna féressu Ferilisseræna féressu Ruriguere Ruriguere Hun går Ölessu Hun går ferilisseræna féressu Fîri lisinof Fîri lisinof Fîri lisinof

 I release my body and there is no ghost of you inside my mind, I am moving on and thank God you let me try. You are the reason I can dance Within the fire of goodbyes, of goodbyes, I can lie in the dark room without the feeling that I'm lonely Oh, (it's the beauty of forgotten love!)

As the crowd of Hogwarts students gathered around the front of the school, it became y/n’s mission to find Draco. Voldemort stood in the front of his follower’s side, Lucius urging Draco to come forward into the Dark Lord’s embrace. Y/n took the chance and ran to Malfoy before he could move, tackling him in the same love filled hug that took her breathe away years ago. Gasps were heard among both sides, some cheers mixed in as well. 

When Y/n pulled away, she cupped Draco’s cheeks, voice softer than when she said goodbye, but this time filled with determination and hope. “You’re not alone. We either fight together, or run together. I admit, my heart isn’t content without you by my side. I love you, I always have. My heart could never belong to another for it belongs to you and only to you.” 

Draco gazed at her in a state of awe and admiration. He pulled her in for a kiss. It was more passionate than they’d remembered, full of new emotions and an even stronger spark. It was the new thing that made them both feel alive, that made them both not want to ever pull away.

Unfortunately, Lucius cleared his throat, causing the couple to separate with red faces. “Draco.” He reached out to his son again. Narcissa joined her husband in summoning her son.

“Draco. ....Come.” Draco looked over to y/n, who winked at him before lightly kissing his hand that was holding hers and walking with him to Lord Voldemort. 

“Ah, well done Draco! Well done.” Voldemort pushed y/n to the side and gave an awkward hug to the poor blonde before pushing him to his parents. Y/n rushed to join him, the lovers clinging to each other almost immediately.

If I am left with a rose in my hand, let it die! It's the beauty in forgotten love! And I don't care if you don't understand why I cry! It's the beauty in forgotten love! 

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ah (it's the beauty in forgotten love!) Oh, oh, oh, oh, ah (it's the beauty in forgotten love!)

Y/d/n chased after her older brother Scorpius, slowing down when their mother scolded them. Draco chuckled at his wife’s frustration and kissed her hand that was intertwined with his. She did as he had expected and flushed red, forgetting about her children racing to Platform 9 3/4.

As the family halted to kiss the messy headed blonde 11 year old goodbye, y/d/n noticed a girl staring at her. She squeaked and pulled on the skirt of her mother’s dress. “What is it pumpkin?” Y/n’s 4 year old daughter pointed over to a young red haired girl. Y/n smiled and tapped Draco’s arm excitedly, not dropping her eyesight from the child. Draco turned around and caught sight of what his girls were looking at, waving at Harry and Ginny, then at their children.

The little girl’s eyes widened when y/d/n stuck her tongue out at her and hid behind her father. Harry picked her up and walked over to the Malfoys, introducing his daughter to them. Ginny and Y/n chatted about their kids and husbands, laughing when both men gave them funny looks upon hearing their names. 

When it was finally time to say an actual goodbye to their kids, the Potters and Malfoys did it together. Scorpius and Albus boarded the train and waved goodbye to both families. Y/n and Draco had said goodbye to Harry and Ginny after y/d/n took off down the platform. Y/n held her husband’s hand and leaned on his shoulder, walking with him while their daughter, full of energy, skipped in front of them.

Forgotten Love - AURORA | Aurora Aksnes

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #hermione granger #harry potter and the half blood prince #snape #dumbledore #albus dumbledore #slytherin #x reader #angst #fluff #imagines #imagine #battle of hogwarts #lord voldemord #dark lord #tom riddle #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter characters #deathly hallows part 2 #tom felton #tom felton x reader #tom felton imagine

[queerchoicesblog]

After The Storm

Folks, here’s the second suggestion (thanks a mill @scottishqueer) for the wlw writing project. Inspo is fleaky lately but I want everyone who sent ideas to know that I’m working on them: I’m just a bit slow to write! But I hope you will enjoy this.

A little note about this series set in the Italian Renaissance. I chose a location very dear to me and - hopefully - a bit unusual: Ferrara, the city where my grandparents lived and my mom was born. I love that place and I’ll probably go back there in August: I still remember my grandpa taking me to the Castle (I have a picture showing little me proudly sitting on a pile of cannonballs in the internal stone garden on a sunny day), the Cathedral and the palaces around town. I incorporated them all in the story.

Ferrara was also one of the capitals of the Italian Renaissance, a Duchy ruled by the House of Este, a princely family, linked with several contemporary royal dynasties, including the British royal family. They were notorious patrons of the arts and innovators (through architeractural projects like the one called “Addizione” they were precursors of modern city planning); Duke Alfonso, who makes a cameo in the story and was the third husband of the infamous Lucrezia Borgia, was a patron of Ariosto, a famous poet to whom - ironically - my high school was dedicated. So yeah, I added a personal to this miniseries.

If you do happen to like this miniseries, please consider spreading the word!

Previous series: Ancient Greece

__________________________

The rain has finally subsided. When I wake up at the very first lights of dawn, only a faint rattling against the windows can be heard, a testament to the storm an unkind wind blew from where the sea lays and roars. I cherish the feeling, the newfound sweet peace after the howling winds of the night. My beautiful little boy is resting by my side. My poor Tommaso: my little angel has been unwell for days, I have never seen him shed all those tears since the day he was born. He cried and cried until his screams of fear and pain were barely audible and none of us knew what to do. Even Riccardo, my ever-absent, ever-busy husband, worried and urged the presence of a physician with great haste, concern written all over his face. I've never seen him like that before. Tommaso is our only son, too beautiful and young to surrender to a hideous disease and leave this world. If I allow myself to dwell into these thoughts, oh that would be enough to kill me! Seeing my boy suffering was almost unbereable: his desperate cries pierced right through my heart as I held him close, impotent yet hopeful that my presence could provide him a little comfort. Mum is here, my love, fighting and suffering with you.

It's an indescribable joy and relief to wake up this morning and see him sleeping peacefully after the agony and the storm. Tommaso is afraid of thunders and dark skies, I hated the rainstorm for being so unmerciful and throwing new fears to my troubled little prince. I wish I could have blown it away like Aeolus but I do not detain such power over the natural elements.

I gently stroke his head, a feather touch: God forbid I wake him! I almost cry but I manage to refrain myself: my sobbing could disturb his heavenly slumber and I don't want him to see me crying. I'll greet him with a smile when his eyes open up again and nuzzle his belly before covering him with kisses from head to toe. Tommaso loves it and I'm sure Riccardo won't object for once, not after what we've been through. I really thought I would lose my angel.

Thankfully, Lady Death spared him or so it seems. When he wakes he looks back to his usual self, no sign of the cruel pain torturing him. He gets all happy and excited underneath my kisses and eats with a good appetite. He simply looks a bit more abashed and tired than usual but it's understandable. I'll follow the physician's advice and ask my maid to get eggs and cook one of those soups and creams I had too when I was recovering from giving birth. That will hopefully help.

Seeing him happy again makes me forget about the events and mundane meetings I have missed over the past few days since he got ill. I love attending them but it all became suddenly so meaningless when my son lost his light and health. I must remember to save a prayer and make an offering for his miraculous recovery. And I can get the report of the latest happenings at court from my dear friends. They sent notes inquiring about Tommaso and I am glad to let them know the fortunate turn of events.

They visit me the day after. I have many friends here but Maria and Virginia are special companions to me. Maria is the oldest of the group, she has two sons already in marital age, but she has been good to me since I first walked into the castle. She comes from one of the wealthiest noble families in town: she's an institution at court and it meant so much to me that she took me under her wing when I was the new girl here, the young bride of "the most skilled diplomat that has ever served the House of Este". She has her ideas and a temper, of course, we don't agree on everything but she's been a sort of mentor to me and I will always be grateful to her for that: all I know about properly living at court, well I owe it to her. Virginia is about my age, another "pupil" of Maria. I like her: she's a bit shier and meeker than our friend and she has a little boy too so I'm sure she fully understood my anguish.

Apparently, I didn't miss anything important as I guarded Tommaso with my life. Same old rivalries between dames, the yet unconfirmed gossips about the Duke marriage plans, how displeased the jealous favourite looked even if she denied her irritation. Good old court life. I comment that there is still so much going on in our fair Ferrara: the Addizione is proceeding and rumour has it, the palace the previous Duke commissioned for court entertainments, Palazzo Schifanoia, is being renewed and expanded. It goes without saying that it is bound to be a work of unprecedented beauty. I don't remember who was saying so but I know the Duke and his passion for the arts so I find it hard to doubt.

Virginia claps her hand and notes that actually yes, I missed something. Speaking of arts and artistic projects, do I remember when rumours of an external artist joining the enterprise spread? Well, it happened! Now, that I think about it, I remember...Riccardo mentioned it one night as we came back from a music gathering. Apparently, our most brilliant architect, Biagio Rossetti, the genius in charge of bringing the Duke's vision to life and into art, requested another artist to join his brigade. If I got it right, it should be a talented colleague from Florence, Sir Davide whatever...I forgot his surname. He served the House of Medici and excelled so brightly that our fair Biagio summoned him as his right hand. Allegedly, our architect - or , God forbid!, the Duke himself - is unsatisfied with how the projects are proceeding and firmly believes that a fresh set of eyes and hands will benefit the future glory of our Duchy.

"The new architect arrived - when was it? Oh yes, the day after you informed us that poor Tommaso was ill, you definitely missed" Virginia explains.

He looks nice: a handsome man, who knows how to behave himself at court, a true gentleman. I tease my friend asking if she has already put her eyes on him. Virginia blushes a little before protesting: of course not, she would never do anything like that, not to her Carlo, she's a married woman and loyal. Maria interrupts her.

"Oh stop it: as if that would be an impediment!"

"Well, ideally it is!"

"Yes, but only ideally, as you said" Maria laughs. "My young girl, you should know that everyone at court has affairs sooner or later. We'll get you a lover too one day"

"Maria, you're incorrigible!" Virginia giggles, pretending a shyness that is no longer there, replaced by a hint of mischief.

Maria just shrugs, picking up a cherry from the bowl my maid laid on the table.

"Just experienced. So believe me when I tell you we all need the thrill of a secret affair in our lives...otherwise what is left to us? We would die of boredom!"

"I cannot vouch for Maria's theory but you said it yourself, the Florentine architect is here now and he's a handsome man..." I add, winking, to join the conversation.

"You'll vouch for my theory too, dove. Give me time and I'll get yourself a lover too" Maria exclaims.

"...Before a fair lady of the court catches his eyes and bewitches his heart" I continue, addressing Virginia as I prevent Tommaso from climbing up the table on his hunt for cherries.

My friends exchange an amused look.

"Oh but he's married, Emilia!" Virginia explains. "He didn't travel alone, his wife followed him here too. We met them both"

Ah, that's unexpected! I have already pictured a handsome bachelor joining our court but that's good to hear. As much as I enjoy the company of my friends and the other dames, I have noticed though the years that new companions are a blessing. A little novelty, even if momentary at times, could have the same effect of fresh air on a hot summer day. Otherwise, we would die of boredom, as Maria said, referring to lovers. I wouldn't go that far but a new lady in town could be good news.

"Oh, nice! A potential new friend. We should invite her to join our next sewing meeting and get to know her. As well as the hottest gossips from Florence, that is! What do you think?" I smile.

Surprisingly, the expression on my friends' faces is unreadable. Did I say something wrong? Was I too straightforward? Oh gosh, I hope they didn't take my enthusiasm as personal displeasure of our sewing meetings or their company! I better get this right.

"So, how's the new lady?" I inquiry nonchalantly as I prove myself in the funniest faces I can master to make my child laugh.

I succeed: Tommaso claps his tiny hands and laughs until he's out of breath.

"Oh, don't even get me started with her!" Maria dismisses my question but I know her long enough to know she can't wait to tell me what she thinks and maybe more.

"Nothing much, she keeps to herself. Not quite the talker" Virginia shrugs.

"Ah, she's way more tolerable when she keeps her mouth shut anyway!" Maria intervenes again and I'm sure she's not done with just that.

"My my, it seems you took quite a dislike for her" I giggle, exchanging an amused look with Virginia.

"I couldn't help myself, my dear" Maria continues, fanning herself as if to cool down her mounting anger. "Another boorish yet arrogant Florentine"

"The Florentine are always so full of themselves" I concede, cradling my son in my arms.

"Then she must be the Queen of them all" Maria barks a throaty laughter. "She looks so...so high and almighty: 'oh no, I'm afraid we don't play this game in Florence', 'I don't know what it means, we don't have this word in Florence', 'Florence here and that'. Believe me, sweetheart, we were trying to be kind to her but she's impossible! She acts like royalty but she's the wife of an...architect"

She pronounces the last words with evident displease. I can't refrain laughter: she's always been such a snob! I comment that she certainly sounds like...something.

"Oh but you'll have the disgrace to meet her soon enough!" Maria exclaims. "You know that our Duke is so fond of artists, he will certainly invite them again at the next dinners and balls"

"Speaking of the ball" Virginia intervenes to prevent her from keeping ranting. "What will you wear at the Masquerade Ball next month? I ordered a most extravagant costume yesterday, I can't wait to show you-"

We spend the rest of the afternoon discussing the upcoming events at court and the latest trends, gossiping about what we suspect the other dames will wear.

Ah, I missed my friends and our conversations...

#wlw writing #wlw writing project #original work #wlw miniseries #lgbtqa+ #italian renaissance

[theshamelessmanatee]

Another sterek future fic. This time featuring idiots in love being dramatic af, a big bad of the week, and some blood.

"Derek-" Stiles begins in a small voice "You are not healing- WHY the fuck you are not healing?" 

Derek would like to know that, too. 

Fuck. Everything hurts. 

The pain is not intense per se, at least not in that way that feels like his body is drowning in it and there’s nothing else left. No, this pain surrounds Derek's body like a blanket, makes everything feel distant, diluted. Reality is slowing down and more intense.

Fuck. This is bad.

Stiles.

His senses are overwelmed by Stiles. Stiles, who’s touching him, frantically; his scent sour in worry, his heartbeat thundering in Derek's ears. There's a hunted look in his eyes and Derek clings to it like a lifeline. Can't look away, it’s the only thing that's preventing him from going under. He is so scared to let go. 

He feels the urge to tell Stiles how much he likes his eyes, big and warm. Wonders why he’d never told him before, in all the years they have known each other.

He’d also want to tell him that it's gonna be fine, but he knows he's not going to heal, not this time. He knows the wounds are too deep, the venom is too strong and he doesn't know how to trigger the healing - if the healing can still be triggered somehow.

Derek feels so, so tired.

I am dying. Fuck.

He can't say that. He can see it in Stiles's eyes, now sharply focused on his wounds, that he knows that too.

"G-go. Please, St-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Derek! I allow myself to panic for three freaking seconds and you come up with this bullshit? Shut the fuck up and let me save you."

Stiles tears his plaid shirt apart and wraps it tightly around Derek's leg and torso, trying to slow down the bleeding.

Oh Stiles, always so sharp and smart and so fucking matter-of-factly even in a crisis.

Then Stiles stills and looks away. He is expanding his wards to get some informations, because Derek feels the magic in the air, caressing him like a balm. He had always liked Stiles's spark, it had always felt right to Derek, like home and happy and safe. Again, he wonders why he’d never told him before.

Stiles turns his attention back to Derek, a mad look in his eyes. "Ok cool. My runes say the rouge bastard is still searching for us on the upper floor so we have an advantage. Scott is too far away and stuck with the minions, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Stiles looks down at Derek. "Now... I am healing you and you are not going to fight it because my magic mojo is running low...gotcha?"

Stiles is lying.

You are trembling, you don't have enough magic to heal me he wants to say but he knows it’s useless. He asks instead "Why are you lying to me?"

Stiles averts his eyes. A fucking brilliant spark and can't lie for shit.

"You are not gonna like it..." he begins in a small voice.

"Stiles-"

"Look, there's no time and I’m gonna do it anyway... S-so, please, don't fight it back"

"Fight what?"

"The healing! I won't have enough magic to mantain the barrier outside for the others and heal you if you resist it!". 

He is still lying.

"Tell me."

"There's no time." You have no time left, heavely implied.

Derek scowls at that.

"Fine! I am gonna collapse on you! Probably...Ok, maybe for sure."

Half a truth. Stiles is not exactly lying, but he's not telling him everything. Are the others in danger? He is really dying and Stiles is lying about his condition?

Derek would like to argue, to tell him to go and save himself before the monster finds them; wants to say a lot of things that would make Stiles mad. He wants to tell him how much he loves him, has loved him for years now, because fuck he does, but he is dizzy and his tongue heavy. He grabs Stiles' arm instead, hoping to convey at least a fraction of his feelings.

"Don't make me see you die if I can help it, please, Derek. Not again." Stiles’ voice is a broken whisper now, makes Derek ache. "Derek, do you trust me?"

"Yes." Derek answers, not even missing a beat. "But I'll take you with me when you collapse, ok? No leaving you behind."

Stiles beams "See you in a minute, then." and winks.

And in the next moment Derek feels so...full. There’s no other word to describe the rush of energy running through his body. 

It happens in seconds, and feels like breathing for the very first time.

Stiles’ magic spreads from the hand he’s placed on Derek’s chest through all his blood vessels; flows through every veins, reaches every capillars of his body -mending, cleaning, healing them along the way-, and then travels back towards Derek’s heart. 

With the next heartbeat the magic’s pushed through every cell of his body, regenerating him at his very core. When it looses speed, Derek hears Stiles’ heartbeat alongside his own, thundering in his ears.

Derek’s mind is focused - too much focused, too much full- to the point he can feel Stiles’ magic like it’s a palpable thing. 

He reaches for it, curious and giddy, caressing it with his new lifeforce. He senses them mixing together -not pushing it back, he promised - and it’s overwelming, intoxicating, like they are blending their souls. Derek would run away to get rid of the excessive energy, and at the same time he’d cry for the intensity of the connection.

It’s so strange. It feel so different from the other times Stiles has healed him.

It’s like he’s reborn. Kinda... whole again.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush - because this time he had been really close to die-, maybe this is what Stiles was lying about.

Then Stiles collapses, but Derek’s there, breaking his fall. He hugs him tightly, huffing in his ear “You fucking overachiever”. 

The beast roars somewhere close and the walls shakes by the sheer force of it. Derek grabs Stiles then, securing the boy’s arms and legs around his shoulders and waist and starts running. 

He’s following Scott's distant heartbeat to find their escape route, when he notices that Stiles’ is slowing down. And then, it just stops. There’s no time to panic, so he runs faster. 

Fuck. Don’t you dare, Stiles. Not you.

Scott howls in the distance, a mournful, broken beckon that echoes Derek's  dread.

After seconds that feel like ages, Stiles’ heart starts beating again, his pulse faint but growing steadier.

Thank god.

“You cheated” Stiles whispers when he wakes up, trying to sound annoyed and ending up fond, his smile buried in the back of Derek’s neck. 

“I helped you helping me” Derek smiles, keeps running towards Scott’s location.

“Always my hero”, Stiles snorts “-and I cant believe you didn't listen! Like always!” 

“...Hey-” Derek  begins “- thanks. I am sorry for making you go last time”.

I am sorry you had to see me dying and asking you to let me go.

It had been years since the night Derek has evolved. but Stiles adressed it earlier, and Derek feels the need to apologise. 

He remembers asking Stiles to let him go, to go save Scott because he had been sure he would have died in the next five minutes and didn't want Stiles to be there. He couldn't say goodbye to Stiles. If Stiles had stayed, Derek wouldn’t have been able to let go without breaking down. 

Derek had never thought about how much his request had hurt Stiles. Sure, everything ended up fine, but it hasn't been fair. It had been selfish asking him to go. Turns out that Derek had always been a little selfish when it comes to Stiles. 

So many years has passed, and Stiles never mentioned it before. Not in all the conversations and apologies Stiles, Scott, and Derek had shared with each others in all the years after the first Monroe's mess, when they had decided to be a pack for the very first time, the three of them being inseparable from that moment on.

There are so many things he wants to say to explain why he’d acted like that, but he can’t find the right words for it; how to explain it without confessing his love to Stiles, and he can’t ruin their relationship.

Stiles hugs him tighter, instead of replying. He knows. He always gets him, had always been.

"Now hold me tighter, big guy. I don't want to brain myself as I save the day with a super cool magic trick." Stiles wiggles his fingers in front of Derek’s face for emphasis.

Derek snorts but obliges.

-----

The rest of the thing is anticlimatic, really. They grab Scott in their flee as Stiles manages to hold the barrier until the last moment and does something complicated with his hands in the air, finishing the spell the others had set up when they were inside, all according to plan.

The monster comes out roaring, Chris and the rest of the pack waiting for it in the clearing outside the old abandoned building. Now that the spell has weakened it enough, it literally takes minutes to put it down.

Derek leaves Stiles in Scott's hands and runs towards the others to help.

-----

When Derek finally comes back to Scott and Stiles, the two are in the middle of a vicious argument. Them being them, their fighting actually involves a lot of exagerrated expressions, too many grunts, some affronted whines, and absolutely no words involved.

From the outside is a thing of marvel, because everyone can see they are having a proper conversation with each other, deciphering noises like they are complete sentences, masters of their own special language. Derek had always been a little jealous of their bond, the little scottandstiles unit he will never be part of. Sure, after years of witnessing it, he can interpret a little of their grunts and sounds, but only like a stranger recognising a word he knows in a language isn’t very fluent in. And Derek knows a lot of languages, so this is especially annoying.

He is still walking towards them when Scott breaks the silence in a furious cry. "Fuck Stiles, what were you thinking?!"

Stiles is outraged "I couldn’t let him die!"

Scott huffs, frustrated, "No! Obviously not! But you could’ve died!" he is panting now, strugglying to control himself. Scott's hands are shaking but before Stiles can retort, Scott looks him in the eyes and shouts in a broken sob, "Do you know how it felt through our bond? I couldn't do anything and I felt it, Stiles! Obviously I am grateful you did everything you could to save Derek, but you are too reckless and you can’t just go risking your life like this every fucking moment! You weren’t the only one losing someone you love, i was losing two of them! You are my brother, Stiles, and I..." 

Scott is trembling now, his shoulders slounched down "...I felt like I was losing Derek and then I was losing you too! And I was there, alone...and fucking helpless!". 

In a whisper he adds " I felt it, Stiles, you were gone...please, fuck please, don't make me lose you, too. What would have I done if-" Scott can't finish the sentence, he buries his face in his hands and starts sobbing. 

In a heartbeat, Stiles is hugging Scott fiercely, the two of them tightening the embrace more and more, grabbing whatever part of the other is closer, swaying like children, erupting in a litany of broken sobs and whispered apologies.

Derek’s conflicted. He doesn't want to interrupt their little moment but need to know what happened: why Scott is so mad, what they were fighting for. He suspects is because of him, about what happened in the building. There’s no way Stiles had just healed him. 

Still hugging like their lives depend on it, (and maybe they do), Scott and Stiles notice Derek approaching. Stiles lifst his face from the crook of Scott’s neck, looks at Derek, and with a sad smile, whispers “It was worth it, Scotty.”

“I know. Don’t do that to me ever again, though” Scott whispers back, in his usual fond tone despite he’s still trembling in Stiles’ arms.

Stiles’ words make Derek blush. God, he loves him so much.

“What happened?” Derek asks as Scott and Stiles dissolve their embrace, and turn towards him.

Scott points at Stiles with his thumb, says in a stern voice “This idiot took ten minutes off of his life to save you. You were dying.”

Stiles groans, affronted like Scott has just inflicted him a brutal low blow, Scott rolls his eyes. Derek is speechless, too mad to even formulate a thought. 

“What?” it’s all he manages to say.

“Look-” Stiles deflects “-giving the kind of life we are leading, you probably spared me ten minutes of agonizing pain..”

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Derek roars. He can’t believe how stupid that was. How stupid, selfless, Stiles is. What has he done?

“You were dying for real, Derek. What I was supposed to do?”

Scott whines like a wounded animal. Derek is utterly shocked. He ends up asking “Why?”

Now Stiles looks angry, “Why? Why, asks the asshole?!” he looks at Scott, with a shocked face that says can you believe it? “Because I had to see you die in front of me and I respected your fucking selfish wish of letting you go one time, and I promised myself it wouldn’t happen ever again, giving the chance! And then- then you lived , and not only that, you didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye to me before you run away like a bat from hell! L-like seeing you die, and letting you go hadn’t meant a damn fucking thing to me!!” Stiles is mad now, his eyes full of unshed tears. 

“And I would do it again, and again, and again! A million times over or whatever it takes if it means saving you!” 

Now Stiles moves in front of Derek and points a finger accusingly on his chest. 

“Are you mad? I don’t fucking care if you are! A-and I don't care if you won’t talk to me again or can’t forgive me! I will happily live the rest of my life with you never speaking to me again, knowing you are safe and alive, than having to bury you! Because you, having you safe and sound is worth every. Fucking. Second. Of my life!” Stiles is panting now, raw and flushed, furious. He’d never looked more beautiful to Derek. 

“I’d been ready to die with you that night in the pool when we barely tolerated each other and now, now, you seriously think now, I’d leave you for dead? Now that I l-” Stiles stops mid rant, on the verge of start crying.

That’s the moment Derek realises: Stiles loves him, too.

Stiles loves him, too.

“You love me” he says without thinking, dumbfounded.

“Thanks for noticing, dumbass!” Scott grunts.

“What he said!” Stiles turns towards Scott. “Scotty boy, thanks for being the broest bro in existence, but... could you give us a little privacy?”

Scott rolls his eyes, but his scent is happy. ”Ppft. Like I wanna see you two making out. Also, that was the angriest love confession ever.” He reaches for Derek and hugs him tightly “I am so glad he saved you, I was so afraid to lose you”. Derek squeezes him back and nuzzles his alpha’s head, scent marking him. Scott smiles and with a last pat on Derek’s shoulder leaves the two of them alone.

“I love you too.” Derek says in a rush, and it feels a damnation and a relief. He can’t even process the fact that this is real. Stiles loves him back for real. They love each other.

Stiles rubs the back of his head, flushed but happy. “Oh, thank fuck. It’d be an embarassing ride home otherwise.”

Derek huffs and cradles Stiles’ face in his hands, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs, still shocked he gets to do it from now on.

“Please tell me you are gonna kiss me, the waiting is killing me.” Stiles huffs, the scent of his nervous anticipation in the air around them.

Derek scowls. Stiles smirks “Too soon?”  

Derek snorts, but looks at every detail of Stiles’s face before coming closer. He stills just a mere inch from Stiles’ lips, and whispers. “Don’t do something that stupid ever again.”

Stiles licks his lips, then looks Derek in the eyes, feels brave enough to admit. “I can’t promise that because I’d die for you.”

“I want you to live, though.” 

“Perfect, me too! Let’s just live happily ever after, then.” 

Stiles grabs Derek’s shirt in his fists and kiss him. Derek feels Stiles’ smile against his lips. It’s perfect. 

#sterek #eternalsterek #my ramblings #my fic #look i wrote a thing! #so many feels #some skitles brotp #stiles stilinski #derek hale #derek hale deserves nice things #namely stiles #stiles too #bamf!stiles #idiots in love #the pining #oh so much pining #good alpha scott #seriously in the future i imagine the pack being good