Ruby

i Write fanfic

[loftec]

Ian Gallagher trading card (limited holographic edition).

Flyboy and the Gearhead by @the-rat-wins

Coming up on a year as a fight pilot, Gallagher’s numbers for the last quarter stand unmatched - longest time with no damage sustained, highest impact-to-shot ratio in a run. This 23 year old playboy Terran is the bookies’ favorite to survive the next quarter’s 3-to-1 Championship. 

[hualians]

we’re the strongest.

[yueshann]

Wei Wuxian: I can explain

Lan Wangji: Really?

Wei Wuxian: If you give me 30 seconds to think of a lie

[sodappend]

It was quiet in a way that was unfamiliar to both of them, tense, weighing heavily on their shoulders.

“I thought you believed in second chances,” Daichi said, back stiff, eyes trained on the hands he’d clenched into fists on his lap. 

“I do,” Suga said, just a hint of a sad furrow in his brow. There was a beat of silence, of held breaths and expectation. Then, he found in in himself to smile. “But not for the same mistakes.“

[sodappend]

The shrine was crowded, as it was every year, people chatting in low voices, tossing coins and offering prayers while waiting for the the clock to strike midnight.

Tooru stood next to the storage shed, a corner of the shrine that somehow always managed to remain secluded during the New Years despite the mass of people everywhere else.

This year was the first time in recent memory, or really in all of his memory, that Tooru waited for midnight alone. Every New Year’s Eve since childhood, he and Hajime had met in this very corner, huddled together for warmth to tell each other their wishes for the coming months. It had started when they had gotten separated from their parents one year and evolved into an unspoken tradition, even as their wishes changed from ‘let me catch more beetles’ to ‘let me get into the volleyball team’ to ‘I want more chocolate this Valentine’s Day,’ even as the greeting of ‘happy New Year’ at precisely twelve in the morning changed into a lingering kiss during their second year of high school, the wish into ‘I want this forever.’

This year Tooru stood with his phone pressed hard against his ear, trying to burrow further into his jacket for warmth. He had considered staying with his parents, but when the phone rang and Hajime’s name lit up his screen he couldn’t bring himself to answer until he was leaning against the shed’s wooden wall.

“Happy New Year,” Hajime said, and the sound of his voice slightly muffled through the connection made Tooru’ heart tighten with a sense of wrongness, because Hajime should have been there beside him, Tooru’s head resting in the crook of his neck, not kilometres away, just a voice through a receiver that made him sound a little different.

“It’s not midnight yet, Iwa-chan,” Tooru said teasingly, knowing Hajime could see through his false cheer, doing it more for himself than anything.

“I know that, Shittykawa,” Hajime said with a grumble. Tooru found himself unable to force out the indignant squawk that was almost reflexive, the corners of his mouth lifting up at the familiar sound of the nickname instead.

“I miss you,” Tooru said, the words bubbling up from somewhere inside him, and suddenly it was hard from him to breathe, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. “Hajime, I miss you. I wish you were here.”

Hajime said nothing for a moment, Tooru only hearing the sounds of the unfamiliar shrine Hajime was at in the background. “What are you doing right now?” Hajime asked, and Tooru’s throat tightened at the slight tremble in Hajime’s voice.

“Waiting by the shed, as usual,” Tooru said, checking his watch. Only a couple of minutes until midnight. He braced himself, knowing for certain that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from crying anyway.

“Alone?” Hajime asked. Tooru thought he sounded a little breathless, and wondered at it.

“New Year’s wouldn’t feel right anywhere else.” Tooru said, smiling fondly despite himself.

They were quiet for a few moments, only the sound of Hajime’s breathing filtering through. Tooru checked his watch. One more minute.

“It’s almost midnight,” Tooru mumbled, voice thick, and he knew there was no way Hajime couldn’t tell he was about to cry.

“Yeah,” Hajime said, his voice gentle. Tooru could almost see his expression, the same soft look in his eyes he got when he ran his fingers through Tooru’s hair or pulled him down for a kiss. Tooru gave up and let a sob shake him.

“I missed you too, Tooru,” Hajime said. Tooru’s reply was cut off by another sob, and Hajime sighed.

“Turn around,” he said, and Tooru did. Hajime was standing a few paces in front of him, free hand in his pocket, his posture sheepish, but his eyes glinting with excitement and pure longing. Tooru froze, thoughts coming to a complete halt, before he stumbled forward, flinging himself into Hajime’s arms, his phone falling somewhere on the ground behind him.

“Hajime!” Tooru said, tone meant to be chiding but coming out as little more than a plea, before he buried his face in the crook of Hajime’s neck and breathed.

The time that passed as they stood clutching desperately at each other felt like an eternity, compressed into a few scant seconds. As Tooru’s watch struck midnight, the wind carried the tolling of a Buddhist temple’s bell from somewhere in the distance.

“Happy New Year,” both of them whispered at the same time. Hajime lifted a hand from where it was fisted in Tooru’s jacket to cup his cheek. Tooru melted into the touch.

When their lips finally met, it was bliss.

[mads--hatter]

AU where Omegas are rare and valuable. Kuroo is the king of a prosperous country; when one day he receives a gift from a neighboring kingdom that wishes to establish a trade route. It's a small, pretty omega, a rare sight that hasn't been seen in years.

Kuroo drums his fingers against the gold armrest of his throne.

It’s that time of day designated to listening to his subjects’ complaints – one filed in right after another, an endless line of varying grievances ranging from accusations of adultery to territorial disputes.  Really, he should’ve appointed Bokuto or one of his other trusted advisors to handle the pettier grievances but all the same; for now, he’s stuck where he is.

Bokuto stands to his right, holding the documents of official business they must attend to for the day. There’s always a set minimum so as to keep the traffic flowing and to appease Kuroo’s subjects, lest he want a rebellion on his hands.

Of course, Kuroo could never really imagine that happening anytime in the foreseeable future. As far as he knew, his kingdom was more bountiful than any of his neighbors. A bountiful harvest meant happy, sated subjects, which in turn meant loyal subjects – a kingdom full of loyal, healthy warriors who rejoiced their young king’s name and spurned any who opposed him.

Keep reading

[blinded-and-bloody]

Angel Whump

Okay, yes, I know there’s a lot of Angel Whump out there - but listen. Most of that has to do with the wings, and while there’s nothing wrong with that, I want to go beyond just that [but I will still totally touch on wings, don’t worry].

Hellfire. Yeah, I stole this from Good Omens, and Neil Gaiman can sue me if he wants. Think about it. You don’t need to completely obliterate your Angel just... burn him a little. Brand him with it, a mark that will never go away, regardless if your Angel has healing properties or not.

The wings. Ah, yes, a classic. Pierce them, whip them, pull out the feathers, remove them both, only remove one, clip them, adorn your Whumper’s jewelry with the removed feathers - this definitely is an Angel classic. Give me your best black clothed whumper with some lovely white feather jewelry [or, fuck it, vise versa].

Grace. Some fandoms [EX: Supernatural] use Grace to show that Angels are different, angelic. This is where their power comes from, this is how they are connected to Heaven. So, destroy it. Just, completely obliterate it, remove it, make your Angel almost human. Put them right on the line to make them panic over dying, make them human enough to try and figure it things like eating, drinking, sleeping. Then deny them of those things.

Kill off their human pals. Say your celestial being is chilling with some humans, helping them out. Kill them. It doesn’t even have to be a murder-y, terrible death. Kill them of old age and remind your Angel that while they are eternal, humans never are. Sure, they can visit them in Heaven, but it’s not the same... [if you want to make it hurt in a different way, have a strict upper level Angel murder their friends to “remind them of what’s truly important here.”]

Heavenly Conditioning Correction. Say your Angel’s soft. Let’s say they try to make friends, or they get distracted from their job. Have Heaven fix it. Make their home in the sky remind them of nothing but pain, and a constant reminder that they aren’t really safe anywhere.

Have them Fall. Have it be an accident, have them not realize what they were doing was bad. You can either make them a demon, or a human, the choice is yours. Just let it hurt. Let their be scars of where their wings used to be, leave them lost, and alone, and confused.

Are they a Guardian Angel? Have them fail. Not enough to be cast out, but in such a way that it completely destroys them. They let their human die, because they weren’t paying attention. How could they?

Being sold. Angels, their abilities, their powers - those are some incredible things. Surely there’s a market for them. Have your Angel wake up at an auction, unable to fight, having to watch their brothers and sisters sold to humans [and worse] until it’s their turn. Are they outwardly panicking? Are they keeping inside like a good little soldier?

PTSD. Remember that good ol’ war between Heaven and Hell? What if your Angel has some issues after it. Nightmares, dissociating. What if every time they let their mind drift, they remember killing fallen Angels.

These are just a couple ideas I had amidst my feverish haze last night, I’ll probably add a part two later, depending if people like this. Don’t hesitate to add your own, man, I want to see other people’s ideas.

[child-of-the-nighttime-stars]

A Part Of The Family

In your frail state, she was always there. The house was tidied. There was always delicious food on the table during my visits. But most importantly, there was always a wide smile on your face. These were things that were always present in my younger years so I thought nothing of it. The value within her job was something that hadn’t crossed my mind as something more than a convenient solution to both of our conflicting lives. Another thing I had never thought about was the value that you had found in each other. That she was there for you in the ways that I couldn’t be or how you had come to see her as the third child you had always wanted but never had.

As I think back on these things now, I don’t know why I was so surprised. Seeing that young lady adorned in all black rather than her usual vibrant scrubs on the day all of your loved ones had come to mourn your passing. She stood right in the front. In the spot next to my older brother. In the spot that should have been my own. But I had been caught up in a meeting for work. Then stuck in traffic with the rust-ridden bucket of bolts that you had left me years prior. So I simply stood in the back. My silent mourning deafened by her sniffles and the way she blotted her eyes with one of the handkerchiefs you’d sewn yourself.

I never thought such a small piece of fabric could carry such a value. So why was it so surprising to me that she held on to one when it was something I’d never gotten?

After the wake, I watched with a blank face as many gatherers tried to console her and praise her for all she had done. Even now I still can’t understand how my family could share such kindness with a stranger when they couldn’t with their own daughter. But that thought was just a passing breeze that washed over me as I watched the crowd dispersed. I followed in the crowd, blending into the sea of black, and as my back turned on you and your taker my only thought was a silent thank you to the woman who’d taken my place…

[villain-enthusiast]

Could you maybe write something where the hero is gifted to villain/team of villains by hero's team as something like a peace offering? Love your work!

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Leader said, fingers splayed out on the letter Villain had sent them a few hours ago, gaze flicking through the contents once more.

Hero nodded, pushing away the doubt and fear settling in the pit of their stomach. “If it’s the only way to get Villain to stop, then I’ll do it.”

Leader eyed them warily. “The consequences of giving yourself up to one of the cruelest people in this whole damn city—,”

“Is nothing if this whole damn city is blown to smithereens,” Hero snapped back. “It’s my choice.”

“Your choice to get beaten up and used and tortured,” Sidekick said from the back of the room. “You could die, Hero.”

Hero bit their lip. “I know,” they muttered. “But lots more people are going to die if I don’t.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, then they made to get ready. Hero took a deep breath to steady the pounding of their heart.

By what Villain had written in the letter, Hero was to be restrained and gagged before they met at midnight just outside of Villain’s headquarters. The trade was to be quick and easy, in and out without so much of a scuffle.

Soon, Hero was locked up in heavy metal shackles and a cloth had been placed between their teeth and tied around their head to immobilize their speech. The team helped them out the door as they headed to the enemy’s base.

Villain was already standing outside the door when they arrived. They were flanked by two henchmen.

“Have my payment?” they mocked, sliding their hands into their pockets casually. Their eyes were dark with malicious intent.

“They’re not payment,” Leader hissed. Hero clenched their jaw and lowered their face, teeth digging into the cloth in the mouth.

Villain grinned. “Say your goodbyes.”

Sidekick was the first to embrace Hero in a tight hug, body shaking with sobs. Then one by one, everyone joined in and murmured their farewells. Hero closed their eyes, savoring the warmth and love of their teammates that they probably wouldn't feel again. A lump formed in their throat.

"I'm waiting," Villain interjected, their voice like a knife through Hero's chest.

"You'll call off the attack if we give them to you, right?" Leader said, tugging Hero over gently by the arm.

"Right."

Leader nodded and walked Hero over, allowing Villain to take them. Hero immediately tried to jerk away, but Villain held fast and pulled them close to their body possessively.

"Rule number one," Villain whispered in their ear, making them shiver, "never pull away from me. You're my property now." They slammed their leg into Hero's back, who released a muffled cry and collapsed onto the ground.

Through their haze of pain, they saw their friends lurch forward, but Villain's henchmen stepped forward, bearing guns and forcing them away.

"You might as well leave," Villain said casually, but the threat was clear. The guards lifted their weapons, loading the barrels.

Hero lifted their head, back throbbing, and nodded at Leader.

I'll be okay.

Leader exhaled and lifted their hands up. "We'll go, we'll go. No need to get all fussy." They glanced back once at Hero, eyes shining with apology.

Then they were gone, along with everyone else on the team.

Hero groaned and tried to prop themselves up, but Villain grabbed their hair and yanked them to their feet.

"That was almost too easy," Villain murmured. Hero tried to snarl at them, but their efforts were futile thanks to the gag in their mouth.

"We're going to have so much fun together."

[nuttynutcycle]

Prompt 88

“Hero… we’ve known each other for a while. If a criminal told you they loved you, how would you respond?”

Hero felt their heart speed up. “Positively. Very positively.”

“Huh.” The villain seemed lost in thought. “Do you know if your sidekick feels the same way?”

[gingerly-writing]

Crack. That was the sound of Hero’s heart breaking. “Oh. Right. I suppose so? I mean, I did raise them into this life with the morals of ‘love thy enemy’.” Quite literally, in their own case. Oh, god. Had they imparted the literal aspect onto their sidekick too? 

Sidekick had definitely been acting slightly…off, recently. Better haircut, cleaner cape, even a touch of makeup around their masked eyes. Realisation hit Hero like a follow up punch to the gut. Their sidekick had a crush too. 

They could be happy for them. They would be happy for them. They loved sidekick like a sibling, like a best friend. They loved villain in a decidedly less platonic way, but they only wanted what was best for their nemesis. The two of them would make one hell of a couple–even they could see that. 

“If you want to proceed down that route,” Hero said, determinedly ignoring the giant lump in their throat, “I’m going to have to deliver a shovel talk to end all shovel talks. Maybe dangle you off a roof or something. Get a literal shovel involved somehow.”

Villain blinked at them. “Wait- you think me- and your sidekick? God, no.” They snorted a laugh, half amusement and half derision. “I’ve known them since they were a teenager–that would be so goddamn weird. No, I’m asking for my sidekick. They’ve got this daft idea of dating across moral lines in their head and I wanted to make sure your sidekick wouldn’t launch them into the upper atmosphere at the mere suggestion. It’s good to know your ridiculous ideas about salvation extend to dating.”

“Oh. Oh.” Had someone increased the atmosphere’s oxygen content again? That was the only reasonable explanation for their sudden lightheaded relief. “That makes so much more sense. Thank god–I don’t now if I’m actually strong enough to dangle you off a roof without dropping you.”

Villain smirked at them. “You have neither the moral fortitude nor the upper arm strength.”

“Hey!”

“A literal shovel is a pretty good idea though. I might incorporate that into my talk with your sidekick.”

“If you bury my sidekick alive after your sidekick initiates, we’re going to have issues.” Hero crossed their arms, as though it might conceal the levity in their chest. They couldn’t eve summon a proper stern frown, dammit. “And if this is a scheme to corrupt my sidekick or- or spy on us somehow, I’ll bury you in turn. And don’t say I’m too nice for it, because there’s more than one way to bury someone. Capiche?”

“I love when you say capiche. It sounds absolutely ridiculous.” Villain’s smirk broadened into a grin with too many teeth. Hero knew that smile. They only bared it when they weren’t winning. “If this was a scheme, would I be asking your opinion on it? I don’t think so. For the record, I think heroes dating villains is a recipe for disaster, one I would never normally condone. But my idiot sidekick won’t let it go, so, here I am.”

Ouch. Heart rebroken. “How awful for you,” they teased automatically. “Forced to confront the full spectrum of human emotion in your own lair. However will you cope?”

“Badly, I presume, but you’ll be here to knock me back into line. Like you always are.” Villain stepped up onto the edge of the rooftop, then paused. Turned. “And, in the spirit of fair warning, my sidekick has one more stupid idea,”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Villain, sounding worn and teasing and tired and embarrassed(?) all at once. “They’re calling it Operation Double Date.”

They jumped off the roof, leaving Hero standing stunned in their wake. 

“Operation what?!”

[incorrect-genshin-impact]

Jean: Oh, to be a bored princess who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener girl.

Lisa: Oh, to be a cute gardener girl who secretely places dandelions in the princess’s room because she is in love with her.

Amber: Oh, to be the palace guard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener girl up the wall for her secret deliveries in the middle of the night. 

Venti: Oh, to be the princess’s best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other.

Kaeya: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love instantly and plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending.

Diluc: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the princess’s personal life and who dies of dysentry at age 23.

[4444555666777888999]

The way he slaps to the ground is killing me

[the-modern-typewriter]

Can you write a snippet where the minion/lackey/what have is in love with his villain and tries to keep it a secret but he (the villain) notices because its really obvious and decided to play around with it for a bit because he also happens to think that particular lackey is adorable

“Do you have a problem pretending to be my boyfriend?” the villain asked, lips pressed against the protagonist’s ear. “You did say you’d be fine with it. You seem a little…flustered.”

The protagonist’s heart drummed in his ears. He had said he’d be fine. He was a filthy liar, it seemed. It was definitely a problem. Just not the appropriate sort of problem at all. More like the being this close to his boss sent a shiver down his spine and raised goosebumps on his skin kind of problem. More like the don’t inhale the scent of his cologne too closely or pay too much attention to the exquisitely tailored cut of his suit kind of problem. More like the completely and hopelessly flustered sort of problem. 

“It’s absolutely not a problem, sir.”

“Keiran.” The villain corrected, gently enough. 

“Keiran.” He had spent far too many times imagining his boss’ name on his lips, but it was always boss, or sir. Never just his name. It suddenly felt far too intimate to call him that when they were close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from his skin. 

“Now pay attention,” the villain said. “Tell me what you see.” 

The villain pressed a kiss just below his ear, one arm wrapped warm around his waist, holding him close. 

It was an easy distraction. People skimmed over them in disgust of public displays of affection, discounted them as not paying attention, not a threat, let dates and eye candy be dragged into places where bodyguards would be far more closely examined. Unfortunately, the downside of it being an easy distraction was that it was highly distracting.

The room was a wash of colour and life, that still seemed somehow pale compared to the feeling of the villain’s mouth dotting further kisses against his throat. He did his best to force himself to focus and not be completely pitiful. He was a professional, god damn it. His eyes found the woman in the black dress. 

“Target’s at the bar,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Black dress, designed to blend in, she’s talking with some guy. Don’t think it’s our man though.” A crowded club was an easy place to trade something - easy to slip in and out of, to hide among the bustle, to pass along information or small items among the crush of bodies. 

“Very good.” 

He must have been imagining the purr in the villain’s voice, but his skin felt entirely too hot all the same. He shifted on his seat and kept his eyes on the room. 

“Agents?” the villain murmured against his ear. 

“Couple. Trying to be discreet. Failing.” His voice came out a tad too rough and he cleared his throat. “Twelve O Clock and three-three-” His thoughts narrowed down to the lazy drag of the villain’s thumb caressing his skin beneath his shirt, just above his hip. 

“Liar,” the villain said. “You can’t even think straight.” He didn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounded amused, appreciative. 

His eyes shot to his boss, heart pounding in his chest. “…you knew. How long have you known?” 

“You blush every time I get close to you,” the villain said. 

“I do not!” 

The villain’s other hand came up to stroke his cheek. His burning cheek. The villain raised a brow. 

He looked down, mouth gone completely dry. He opened his mouth to find some other defense, or perhaps to apologize and-

The villain’s hand dipped to caress his parted lower lip, catching the words before they could even form, warning or teasing and he really didn’t know anymore. “I really think we need to start having a conversation about your lies, Dominic.” The villain’s voice was perfectly steady, light, velvet. “I was hoping you would bring if up yourself with this little encouragement of mine, but apparently not and you know how I feel about lies. If it wasn’t currently so very adorable I’d be quite angry with you. Imagine if I hadn’t noticed. Imagine if I did, in fact, need you to pay attention for me.”

“I’m-”

The villain tapped his tongue. 

He shut up. 

“Come now,” the villain said. “We’ve been working together for five years . We’re not teenagers. When I ask you if there is a problem, I do in fact expect you to answer me honestly. It’s not a trick question. So tell me the problem.” 

“You know.”

“I’d like to hear you say it.” 

Sadist. 

“I…that is to say you…there’s this…” Oh for god’s sake. “You know I like you. A lot. Like I love you a lot. But I’ll get over it- or, I will fix the problem anyway, I always do. You know I always do. We’ve just been quite busy lately so I haven’t er - haven’t really had any time to…distract myself. I’ll get over it.”

The silence stretched. 

He eventually glanced up simply because he couldn’t bear it. 

The villain’s gaze was dark and piercing, and his attention dizzyingly undivided.“You just told me that you love me and that you’re planning to fuck someone else in the same breath.” 

He blinked. “Yes sir.” 

“Upstairs,” the villain said. “Now.” 

Ah. 

[shijiujun]

i’m reading a new novel 鲜满宫堂 and the main cp is a cat-human emperor who thinks that everything the other guy does is meant to seduce him HAHAHAHA when the other guy just wants to simply cook fish and pamper his cat-human husband by feeding him well - the other guy is “he worked so hard today and looks like he lost some weight, let me feed him well, see this fish soup, and these fish fingers, and spicy mala crab” and emperor is all “this human really wants me, he’s signalling to me he wants me to sleep with him with all these delicious foods” and the other guy is like “huh??!” 

literally, other guy does something nice out of the purity of his heart-

cat-human emperor: “他原来这么要我，也太不矜持了，可是朕愿意宠你“

other guy: “…??? 我没有??”

[shijiujun]

okay just some context - other guy is a seasoned seafood chef in the modern world who wakes up one day in historical world, and he transmigrated into this young master’s body who is poor af because his scheming relatives are plotting to steal his inheritance away from him. in order to save money he has to basically put his seafood cooking skills to use, namely selling fresh fish in the market. while he’s there, he saves this golden cat (who’s actually the emperor, in a world where most princes etc. are cat shapeshifting humans) and brings him home

emperor-cat decides that he likes this stupid human, especially because he makes a lot of good seafood for him, and in this world, males can marry males too in the royal family, and so emperor-cat decides to hold a 大选秀 so he can marry other guy, not that other guy knows about it, he thinks he took home a normal cat

other guy names cat 酱汁儿 (sauce), and emperor-cat: “放肆！你怎敢叫朕如此恶劣的名字!”

other guy kisses cat, emperor-cat: “大胆！谁让你轻浮朕!”

other guy tells cat that he wishes it will stay with him forever, emperor-cat: “我就知道你很喜欢朕，可是也不能这样表白!”

after other guy makes his first big sum of money selling sotong sticks in the market he tells cat that they will be rich from now onwards if he continues selling out like that, and emperor-cat: “你跟着我就一定不会让你饿死, 谁叫你那么喜欢我!”

and when emperor finally marries other guy, other guy still doesn’t know the cat is the emperor, and on the first night they literal sleep together, other guy is so awkward and scared and emperor-cat is like: “你都跟我一起睡了这么多次，害什么羞，蠢奴!”

and other guy: “….??? 谁? 我没有???!”

and during the selections (for concubines/queen etc.), other guy is there reluctantly, forced to go by his mother, and they all have to showcase a talent - so other guy only knows how to debone/cut fish (other than cook) and so he’s like: okay to get out of this selection and fail, let me cut fish so well that they drop me because who will want a fish-cutting concubine/wife etc.?”

emperor-cat seeing how hard other guy is cutting fish: he really wants to be my husband!!! 

–

it’s written by the same author as qi wei shang (the wife is first) and once again the author loves transmigration, equal marriage, cat-humans, etc. hahahaha ded @sarah-yyy somehow i feel like this may be up your alley

[aibari]

safe returns

a @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

notes: this fic is set after the s15 finale. there’s a bit of canon-typical grief at  the start, but this is a fix-it fic :)

read on ao3

Afterwards, the world knits itself back together slowly, like broken bones healing. People come back to their loved ones, but not all at once, filing in gradually. Dean guesses they’ve had a long way to go. Wherever the hell they went, when Chuck had punted them out of existence.

So it’s a slow and gradual thing, and it sucks. He catches himself out constantly, thinking that maybe -

And then Sam will give him a concerned look, so understanding and careful it makes him feel like he’s been skinned alive.

And he knows by now what that feels like.

Keep reading

[the-modern-typewriter]

What about a prompt where the Antagonist is an enemy of the Protagonist's parent(s) and when Antagonist meets them says something along the lines of "You look awfully familiar..."

Hopefully that makes sense and isn't too specific lol.

Also, I absolutely love your works!

“You look awfully familiar...” The antagonist’s head tilted as if they were trying to place the resemblance. 

The protagonist’s heart slammed in their chest. Their parents had, as they were growing up, done their best to shield and protect them from the enemies they made. Still. As the protagonist had grown older, they’d heard some stories about some of them, and of the antagonist in particular. Their parents had taken down many bad people over the years, but it always came back to the antagonist. 

They had, long since, been the proverbial monster under the protagonist’s bed.

The protagonist’s hand shook but they held their ground, shoulders squared. 

“I’m here for my parents. You’re going to let them go.” 

The antagonist blinked and realisation crossed their face. They snapped their fingers together. “Ooh, that’s it! You’ve got her jaw line. His eyes. Mm.” The antagonist continued to study the protagonist, seemingly delighted. “You’re just precious, aren’t you? How old are you? Thirteen?”

“I’m seventeen!” For a second, the protagonist was simply, instinctively, offended. Why did people always think they were like twelve? It happened when they went to the cinema and got ID’d for a 15 on their birthday. No. Not the point.

“Seventeen,” the antagonist murmured, looking like they were doing some maths. Their eyes widened.

“Let my parents go.” The protagonist tried the words again, and this time they hefted their weapon a little higher, keeping it pointed directly at the antagonist. “Or I will kill you.” 

“How will you find them and get them out if you kill me?” 

The protagonist faltered, for a beat.  “I’d find a way!”

“Or watch them slowly die from the opposite side of a prison door.” The antagonist shrugged lightly. There was something sly to their eyes, sly and watchful like coming face to face with a crocodile waiting to spring.

Maybe the protagonist could keep them talking? Get them to reveal more information? A lot of older people talked to teenagers like they were too dumb to understand anything, so maybe they could use it to their advantage. 

The antagonist had already continued, without prompting.

“But, you know what,” the antagonist said. “This is perfect. Your parents are stubborn creatures, truly. I thought threatening to torture one or the other would work but it didn’t...and now I see why. They were both more concerned with protecting you.”

Unease, disgust, prickled down the protagonist’s spine. 

“They were willing to die to keep you a secret.” Now, the antagonist sounded gleeful. “And here you are! This is going to be an excellent family reunion. Far be it from me to keep the lot of you apart.” 

The protagonist forced themselves not to stumble a step back. They kept their attention locked on the antagonist, muscles tensed, barely able to believe that they were actually there and real and talking to them. Not just a bad dream. 

“Come.” The antagonist held out a hand, waggling their fingers. “I’ll take you to them. Maybe you can try to trick me on the way, hm?” 

The antagonist really thought they were that dumb, huh? 

Still, the protagonist hesitated, because getting close enough to get their parents out was what they wanted. Because what if the antagonist wasn’t bluffing? What if they really did need the antagonist to save their parents? Their had to be a reason that the antagonist was still alive. 

They hesitated and then...

Then they shot. 

The antagonist actually looked surprised, before they hit the ground hard, twitching as electricity coursed through their veins. The protagonist levelled the weapon a third time, jaw clenched with determination. 

“I’m not my parents.” They flicked a switch on the settings. “And this is the bit where you start fucking talking. Alright?”

Worse than anything, the antagonist smiled. 

“Now that,” the antagonist said. “That was just like me.”

[captain-flint]

i’ve never seen a man struggle so hard to remember a single valid reason why he chose to love someone as cas does in this moment

[saintemiliosandoz]

#homie almost fell out of love right there and it would’ve been fair