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#also my mouth tasted like weed all day ;_; nobody said anything so i guess i didnt smell
emotionallyits2009 · 3 years
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deancas fic rec list!
hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 
Canonverse:
where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.
Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!
lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.
Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.
Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.
home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.
Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.
the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.
Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.
Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3
The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.
Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 
Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”
The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.
take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.
like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.
Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.
Alternate universe:
And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 
Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.
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strabbyshortcake · 3 years
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the truth about snaktooth
Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.
“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”
The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.
There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.
“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”
“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”
Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”
Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.
She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.
“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”
Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
--
The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.
After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.
“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”
“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.
Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”
“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.
“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”
She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.
“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.
Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”
“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.
“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”
“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.
He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”
“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”
“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”
He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”
Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.
“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.
Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”
“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.
“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”
“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”
Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”
He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.
“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.
“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  
“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”
“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”
When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”
“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”
“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.
Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.
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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years
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Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 3)
Summary:  Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.
They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/64645693
Enough of the gays, let’s see what the girls had been up to (? ah, and Evander lol. Uh... this is the first time I don’t have anything to say. Likes and reblogs are appreciated as always, I love y’all, and idk i send you, person reading this, good mexican vibes (? 
Tag list:  @nodrianbcyes @healing-winston-pratt @lethughandsimonkiss @cerenoya @cindersnightmare @itsalittlebitchilly @ohmyskies
A golden medallion, a golden cage
Please picture me in the weeds before I learned civility.
I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted.
Sweet tea in the summer,
cross my heart, won’t tell no other.
Tamaya
When she first arrived at that abandoned store, she thought it would take years for it to feel like home. There were many empty boxes, rats, dust, and rusty pipes. Also, Tamaya had never cleaned in her life. The prospect of having to deal with this mess on her own was not the least bit appealing to her.
However, the idea of going home was even less so.
The first night was uncomfortable. She couldn't sleep at all. Luckily, she had brought a flashlight with her and started to cover all the windows with loose wood and old cardboard. Then, with some chains and furniture, she blocked the entrances. She looked up at the ceiling and realized there was a light catcher.
Tamaya smiled. She wasn’t gonna block it.
She had overestimated how long it would take to clean the whole place. It turns out that when there was nothing else to do, one can work remarkably fast, even without help. Rats were the least of her problems. She wasn't disgusted when she grabbed them, stuffed them into a box, and released them a few blocks further at night. Georgia was so shocked by it that the first thing she did the next day was giving her an antibacterial gel. A luxury item in those times.
Tamaya preferred when Georgia brought her food. She didn’t like that much the fact she was living off the garbage from the place next door.
On the eighth night, she looked at her reflection in the dirty mirror at the back of the room. The candlelight was the only thing that illuminated her. Molly was sitting on her lap. She noticed that her once flawless green dress had tiny spots of an unknown substance.
But Tamaya looked even worse. Clothes had never mattered much to her and her wings were fine. What worried her the most was her hair. It had always been long. She had tried to convince her parents for years to let her cut it off, but they never let her. Why? Her hair was the prettiest thing she had.
It was at that moment, that Tamaya realized that she no longer needed to look pretty to anyone. Beauty was overrated.
She took a pair of scissors and cut her hair.
Her head and soul felt lighter.
The sun hadn't quite risen yet when Georgia entered through the light trap. For a few seconds, Tamaya could see the firmament was as pink as only sunrises could be. Under her arm, Georgia carried a cloth bag.
Tamaya rubbed her eyes wearily. She had been waiting for her sitting on an old chair for a long time.
“Honey, I’m home!” Georgia exclaimed gracefully coming down.
She always made the same joke. And Tamaya always had to pretend she didn’t find it funny.
“Oh, but I haven’t prepared breakfast yet,” she muttered.
Georgia looked at Molly and tossed the cloth bag at her. “Molly, catch it!”
Obviously, Molly didn't catch it. Georgia pretended to smash a cup of glass against the wall and raised herself a few feet off the ground to appear taller than Tamaya. “Tamaya, I want more children. Molly is too lazy and ugly.”
Tamaya put her hand to her mouth and faked a sob. “How can you say that in front of your daughter, Georgia?—” She waved at Molly. “—In front of your daughter!”
Then her friend grunted and lunged at Tamaya, knocking them down onto the mattress. “No! She is not a worthy heir to my wealth!” she exclaimed, sitting on her lap. “Her head is made of plastic! And she’s white! Tamaya, I'm not white! Who is the father?!”
“Of course she's your daughter!” Tamaya replied “You know how I know she’s yours? Because she’s a little piece of shit too!”
Georgia's jaw dropped. She closed her eyes, sighed, and with a dreamy smile, whispered, “A little piece of shit… That's my daughter,” and kissed her on the cheek.
Tamaya had never received kisses in her life. If her parents ever did, she had been too young to remember. But she liked it when Georgia did it because it was like...
Well, as if a sister did it. Or a mom. Or a real friend.
“That was the magic kiss that makes babies, by the—” Suddenly, Georgia dropped to the ground holding her belly. “Oh no, the baby is coming! The baby is coming! “ and, amid false screams worthy of a woman in labor, she took out of her jacket pocket a blue cardboard box with pink details. “Oh… Oh, Tamaya, dear,” she muttered, standing up. “She's beautiful,” and she put it in her arms.
Tamaya looked at it. They were tampons.
She didn't know where she was getting the strength not to laugh.
“Tampons Rae,” she whispered, stroking what would be the cheek of the box.
“Molly will be so jealous…”
“Molly will love her new sister. I'm sure.”
Georgia finally laughed and lay down next to Tamaya. It amazed her that lying on such a small, old mattress didn't bother her. She had never been to her room, but in her head, Tamaya had the image of her friend lying on a bed that could easily fit six people, wearing pajamas worthy of a princess and with the room smelling like vanilla and strawberries. Nothing to do with where they were now.
She looked at the box of tampons more closely. It felt a little lighter than expected, so she assumed Georgia had kept a few for her personal use, which honestly didn’t bother her. Then, she took out what was inside the bag. A bar of soap, a bottle of apple soda, and two bags of walnuts about to expire.
There were fewer supplies than last time.
She arranged them in a loose drawer next to the mattress. There was still an energy bar left that Georgia had brought her a couple of days ago. She took it and handed it to her.
“No, you eat, Tamaya,” Georgia said with a smile. “I have plenty at my house.”
“Okey,” she replied with a shrug. Tamaya took a small bite. It tasted weird. “Has your mom got a job yet?”
“No,” she muttered. “But she is already an older woman. Maybe that's why nobody wants to hire her. And it's not like many people have money to pay one more employee anyways. Also, she may have been an excellent lawyer at the time, but I'm not so sure if she's a good housekeeper or waitress.”
Tamaya nodded. She shouldn't have asked.
“I'm thinking about looking for a job too—”
“She won't let you.”
“So what?” Georgia said challengingly. “That thing about staying at home, reading and embroidering, doesn't suit me.” She crossed her arms. “I'm nineteen years old, I think it's time for me to start making my own decisions.”
Decisions. What a strange word.
Because that implied that she had options.
And Tamaya had already gotten used to not having them.
The good thing is that she was fully aware of it.
Georgia bit her lower lip and stood up. “I guess I should go. You know… to keep looking for a job.”
“Yes,” Tamaya said. "I guess you should.”
Her friend took the cloth bag. Tamaya walked with her until they were just below the light catcher. She should go out in the sun for a bit before people started to go outside.
“I'll come back tomorrow,” Georgia assured her, taking her hand. “I promise.”
She had promised that before and she had not always kept her word. However, Tamaya had already learned that promises were very easy to break and she didn't take it personally.
“I’ll wait for you.”
And she left.
And Tamaya was left alone. Again.
She waited a couple of minutes before sticking her head out of the light trap. She looked up at the morning sky, cold and clear, with the smell of garbage and pollution that characterized it at all hours. There was still no one on the streets, but the lady from the Chinese food place next door was taking out the trash from the day before, like every morning.
Breakfast.
Unlike Tamaya, she never looked up at the sky.
Nobody did. If they did, they would be aware of her presence. But people were too into their own thing that they didn't even bother to see something beyond their noses. Just thinking of themselves and their wishes. Of course, now that there was no longer someone to punish those who disrespected the thin line there was between good and evil, they had taken the opportunity to bring out the most primitive and selfish part of their beings.
Tamaya had spent a lot of her time thinking about it, and she still didn't understand the reason behind it.
Maybe it was that Tamaya would never understand the world of normal people.
Yes. That was probably it.
She waited for the woman to return inside to completely leave her lair. Tamaya was ready to go down to look for her food when a small and slim figure came out from behind some wooden boxes and ran towards the garbage bags.
She was going to take her breakfast.
Tamaya wasn't going to make it so easy for her.
That was what happened when people did not look up to the sky.
Kasumi
She wasn't looking in the trash for food, no. Kasumi was collecting the ingredients for the royal breakfast, which would take place in the most beautiful Chinese garden in the kingdom. It would be held that morning. They would be sitting by the river's edge, on a soft white blanket. She and Evander were going to eat like the monarchs that they were. There would be hard-boiled eggs, fresh plums, strawberries and cream, pancakes, waffles covered with jam, and cookie milkshakes. They would be able to eat whatever they wanted without getting sick to their stomachs. And if they did, they would only have to sing a song to the waters of the river and it would become the sweetest and most effective stomach ache remedy of all.
It was going to be the best feast there could have been.
But first, she had to find the ingredients.
She held her breath as she rummaged through the remains of rotten vegetables and sticky noodles. Think, think, think.
Kasumi was holding her breath because... the ingredients came from a magical bush. They had flowers that gave off a foul odor to scare off intruders. However, when they realized that Kasumi was pure of heart, they would reveal their true scent of grapes and rays of the sun.
Then, among all that mess, she found a box of white foam. She carefully removed a few pieces of grated carrot and tore it open with trembling hands.
Fried rice. A delicious plate of fried rice. And it actually looked edible.
She hugged the box with a lump in her throat. Oh, Evander was going to love this—
“That's mine.”
Kasumi froze.
It was the coldest and most terrifying voice she had ever heard. Hoarse and stern, it rumbled in her head like thunder in a storm.
A tear rolled down her cheek. God, Evander was so hungry. She was so hungry...
“Give it to me. Now.”
Kasumi rubbed her eyes and turned around. She put the foam box on the floor. and was about to look up, when the voice commanded, “Don't look at me.”
She obeyed. The mysterious voice took the box.
“I didn't mean to steal your food,” she muttered. “Sorry.”
A feather fell in front of her. Kasumi was slightly startled. Her head completely forgot what the voice had commanded, and she shone her flashlight.
It was a woman. She had shoulder-length hair and an aquiline nose. That, along with her amber eyes and huge black wings, Kasumi was sure she was seeing a bird. A lady.
A Ladybird.
Ladybird, are you the one who protects the magic bushes?
Ladybird did not like the light on her face. She hissed and slapped the flashlight from Kasumi’s hand. “I told you not to look at me!” she yelled.
At that moment, a flash caught Kasumi's attention. A flash of gold that came from a broken medallion hanging from Ladybird's neck.
She reached into the back pocket of her pants and felt between her fingers the half of that same locket that belonged to her.
Kasumi was wrong. Ladybird did not protect the magic bushes. Ladybird was a thief. Not only had she taken her and Evander's food, but she had also taken Mr. Holbrook's locket.
How delusional of her to believe that there were still people who protected something other than themselves.
Ladybird spread her wings, ready to take off when Kasumi lunged at her and tried to yank the locket from her. She pulled and pulled but the old chain wouldn't give up and Ladybird wouldn't stop yelling, “What the hell?! Let go of me!”
She took her by her long braid and threw her to the ground. However, the adrenaline rush allowed her to jump up and grab onto Ladybird's ankle. “That is not yours!” cried Kasumi. “Thief!”
“IT'S MY FOOD, BITCH!”
“IT'S NOT YOUR MEDALLION!”
The door to the store opened. Kasumi became so flustered that she accidentally let go of Ladybird's ankle and fell backward against the concrete. The lady started yelling rude words at her in an accent Kasumi could barely understand. She got to her feet, dodged the lady's broom, and ran as fast as her legs would allow her.
Regardless, Kasumi wished that Ladybird had escaped in time before the lady saw her. Something told her that she was not going to be nicer to her than she was to Kasumi.
She carefully pushed the rusty trash can. That, and the piece of wood that they put over that hole in the wall, made it impossible for someone unfamiliar with the area to know there was a secret entrance. Kasumi wondered how they would enter when they grew up. She herself sometimes had a little difficulty entering. But surely it was just her imagination. Besides, it wasn't like that wall was especially difficult to pull down.
From the looks of it, that place used to be an apartment complex. All the main entrances had been blocked with rubble and there was not a single window that was not broken. Kasumi and Evander had settled on the third floor. It was a dangerous thing to walk those increasingly unstable stairs, but it would be more dangerous for someone to remove the rubble, enter and see them. On the third floor, they would at least have a little time to escape.
Luckily, it hadn't been necessary yet.
She entered her small apartment and found Evander coloring the wall with pieces of chalk they had found in the park. When he saw her, his dirty freckled face lit up as much as the fireworks that came from his hands. “Kasumi!” he screeched. “Did you bring breakfast? Tell me you brought breakfast!”
Heartbroken, Kasumi swallowed the lump in her throat and clasped her hands behind her back. “Today I brought our favorite food, Vandy…”
Evander smiled even more. Kasumi opened an imaginary box and whispered, “Stardust cookies.”
Her friend's smile twisted a little in an almost imperceptible way. “Stardust cookies!" he exclaimed, taking one. Kasumi moistened her hands with her powers and wiped his face. Now, Evander didn’t look that dirty anymore. “Let me guess, these were cooked by—” he scratched his chin thoughtfully “—Your Mr. Dad!”
“No, it was your Mr. Dad,” Kasumi replied. They sat right in front of the window to eat their stardust cookies. There was still a star left in the sky. Perfect . “Hello Mr. Wade, thanks for the cookies. Evander, don't be rude. Thank to your Mr. Dad.”
Evander put his pieces of chalk in his pockets. He kept a pink one and gave Kasumi the blue one. “Thanks, Dad!” and proceeded to color a flower in the window frame.
Kasumi took a stardust cookie and chewed it. She always imagined stardust cookies as if they were vanilla cookies with pieces of almonds and white chocolates, so soft they left puffs all over the place.
Hopefully one day she could taste some real stardust cookies.
She decided to draw fishes.
“Don’t you think that today's cookies were a bit burnt?” Evander whispered.
“No, they were delicious,” she replied. “Your Mr. Dad showed off. Who do you think cooks better, your Mr. Dad or my Dad?”
“Mom Bertha.”
Kasumi giggled underneath. “You’re right, Vandy.”
They kept coloring.
They had always drawn on the walls. Their drawings, pretty cans, curious rocks, and bunches of sticks that hung from the corded rafters were the only decorations they had. However, lately, they had chosen to draw on the window frame during the early hours of the day.
Maybe it was because there was something romantic about drawing in the light of dawn. Or maybe it was because she liked to think that their parents could see what they were drawing from the stars.
Or both.
“I don't know if I can bear the same breakfast tomorrow,” Evander murmured. “We've been eating stardust cookies for almost two days.”
Don't cry, Kasumi, don't cry.
“And what do you want to eat then?” she asked. “What a pretty flower, by the way.”
Evander shook his head. “No, tell me what you want. And I'll get it myself today.”
Kasumi pursed her lips and scratched her head, pretending to seriously consider her answer. “I would like…” she muttered. “Oh, I know, a giant chocolate cake.”
“No, Kasumi, something easy!” Evander squealed, nudging her slightly. “A giant chocolate cake will crush me!” He threw himself to the ground and pretended to be crushed by a huge chocolate cake. “I'll be like this, dead…”
“How awful!” she exclaimed. “So… maybe a small chocolate cake?”
“Now that sounds a lot more reasonable,” he replied, sitting down again. “At least that one isn't going to crush me.”
“I don't feel comfortable speaking ill about your Mr. Dad’s food in front of him,” Kasumi said. “He's going to say I'm a bad influence and he won't let me hang out with you.”
“Dad, Kasumi is not a bad influence!” Evander yelled to the sky, “I swear!”
Mr. Wade looked at her from above, annoyed.
Kasumi didn't feel bad. She deserved it.
“Look at my flower,” Evander said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He pointed to a pink flower with triangular petals and huge circular leaves. “I just created it, it is a new species. Do you know how I'm going to name it?”
She ran her fingers over the drawing. If she concentrated enough, she could imagine that she was touching those velvety petals and not the hard concrete. “How?”
“Kasumi. Like you.”
Kasumi sighed.
Mrs. Moon, how do I explain that I am not worthy of having such a beautiful flower named in my honor?
Probably Mrs. Moon was upset with her too because she flatly refused to answer her question. She was also hungry. She was also mad at Kasumi for not trying a little more.
“Are you telling me that because you want me to give you the last stardust cookie?” she asked.
“Will you?”
Kasumi rolled her eyes in fake annoyance and handed him the last cookie. Evander almost snatched it from her hands. He went back to his drawing as he chewed it happily, moving to the beat of a song inside his head.
Imaginary music. Imaginary food.
Was he imaginary?
Am I imaginary?
She toyed with his red locks and realized she left traces of blue chalk in his hair. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled.
Evander turned to see her, confused. “Why?”
Kasumi wanted to answer that she was sorry she had messed his hair.
But actually, she was sorry for everything.
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udunie · 4 years
Text
Okay, you guys, here’s the part of the Gerard fic that I love (it goes on to a sex scene that I don’t like, cause it doesn’t seem to fit the tone of this part)
Warning for: prostitution, drug abuse, addiction, generally heavy themes
Also, this is basically not edited or betaed at this point, I just want to pick your brains about how to go on with this, cause I feel like ‘monster cock and fake tits’ isn’t the way to go... Please let me know what you think :D
ETA: wow love it when tumblr fucks shit up, anyway, fixed now lol
***
Stiles was just a month or two over eighteen when his dad died. He didn’t like to think about it. Or all the things that happened after. It was like whatever self control he ever had was buried with his dad, leaving him destined to make one bad decision after the other.
Stiles just wanted to forget. Preferably everything; not going to college, not being able to pay his dad’s medical bills, being forced to sell the house, living in his jeep and turning tricks on occasion to survive… He just wanted to escape it all.
First there was the drinking and the weed, and when those were not enough anymore to get him through the day, he tried other things… ecstasy, cocaine, whatever. With his ADHD, drugs didn’t always work as they were supposed to. Sometimes a little too well, sometimes not at all, or in ways he didn’t enjoy. Nothing really stuck.
It was exactly on his nineteenth birthday when he met Kate. 
“Want to try something new?” she asked, slithering up to him in the club. Stiles saw her around before, he knew she was selling something, though never really checked to see what. Lately he didn’t have the cash to get anything serious. “You look like you could use a little pick-me-up. You’re cute, so I’ll let you have one on the house.”
Stiles was a bit drunk and a bit high and very stupid.
“Wha’s it?” he asked, voice slurring a bit. 
“Silver Bullet,” she said, holding up a pill. It reflected the strobe lights weirdly. “It will shoot all your troubles dead, baby. That’s a guarantee.”
Stiles popped it into his mouth without hesitation, chasing the bitter taste down with the vodka tonic he managed to flirt out of someone.
And the rest was history.
***
Silver Bullet wasn’t like anything he ever tried before. For one, it worked; getting him high and happy and horny every fucking time. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t tired or cold or lonely when he took it. Everything was fun and easy and sexy. It felt like being in love with every single person around him. 
At first, it was easy. Almost too easy. He took a pill and felt like he wanted to make love to the world. He picked up a few johns, had sex that felt way better than it had any right to be and by the time he crashed, he had the money for the next few pills. 
Even when he was sleeping, he dreamed about them, about having a whole palmful of those pretty, white pills. Even in his dreams, he could see the tiny, metallic looking particles in them. When he asked about it, Kate said that was the magic and he believed her. Stiles couldn’t imagine going for a day without.
Then Kate raised the price. Then she raised it again. And again. ‘Welcome to the free market, where demand sets the price’ she told him, laughing. He tried to look around for another dealer, but nobody was selling Silver Bullet, they all told him to fuck off if he even just asked about it.
It only took a month for him to start begging her. He sold the jeep, he sold his parents’ wedding rings, he had nothing more to give.
“I will do anything, Kate, please,” Stiles told her. The music was too loud in the club, and the lights too blinding and the shadows too deep. For a second, he thought about just… taking the little tin box of pills he knew she had on her with force, but it was a struggle to even hold himself upright. He was always so tired when he went too long without it.
She leaned back against the wall. Stiles wondered if her smile was always that cruel.
“Hm… Anything?”
“Anything, whatever you want, I will do it,” he said, the words rushing out of him. 
“Tell me I’m beautiful,” she said, fluttering her lashes. 
Stiles remembered seeing her through the haze of the drug. She’d looked like an ethereal being, like an honest-to-god angel.
“You… you are beautiful, you are the most beautiful woman in the world, I’ve never se-”
“Am I prettier than your mommy was?” she cut in.
She was standing so close, Stiles could almost taste the pill burning his tongue.
“Yes. Yes, you are, so much prettier,” he croaked, mouth dry.
She laughed, loud and harsh.
“Unfortunately, baby, flattery won’t get you anywhere,” she said. Stiles wanted to cry. “This is a family business, you know? What sort of a girl would cut her father’s profits?”
Stiles felt shaky and like he was about to throw up. He must have looked miserable, because Kate gave him a long, calculating look.
“But you know what? I can take you to meet him. Maybe you can dazzle him with your… talents.”
Kate was really the most beautiful woman in the world.
***
He was shaking during the whole car ride. He hadn’t had a high in three days, and he felt like he was about to die. Kate made him lie down, his head on her lap, and she stroked his hair, nails too sharp as they scratched against his scalp. The man driving the car - her brother, Stiles thought - gave him a few disgusted looks in the rearview mirror, but Stiles couldn’t care less.
He was going to meet Kate’s dad and fuck him and get high and everything would be fine.
Kate’s father lived in a huge house surrounded by a park and iron gates. It was like something out of a movie, but he was way too anxious to really appretiate it even as Kate led him inside. There was a double staircase in the entrance hall, and Stiles was told to wait there.
The place was big enough that he thought there should be an army of servants around, but everything was strangely silent. Stiles tried not to stare too much. All he could think about was getting his pills. Or maybe stealing something and pawning it off so he could get cash. But… Kate probably wouldn’t sell to him if he did that, right? It was hard to think with his whole body numb with need.
He spaced out instead, staring into mid distance, imagining how good it will be to get his pill and feel alive again. Stiles had no idea how long he just stood there until he finally heard Kate calling him from the top of the stairs. She sounded annoyed.
“Get your ass up here,” she bit out when she finally had his attention. “You don’t want to get him in a bad mood.”
Stiles didn’t. He ran up to her, not daring to touch the polished railing.
“Fuck, sorry,” he said, but she already turned her back, leading him to a set of tall double-doors. 
“Daddy,” she said, pushing them open. She sounded very different than when she was talking to Stiles. “Here he is.”
Kate’s father was an old, old man with short, white hair and a stern face that had Stiles shifting from foot to foot with nerves. He was lounging on a sofa in pajamas and a brocade house coat. His eyes were cold enough to make him shiver where he stood.
“Stiles, this is my father, Gerard. Daddy, this is the boy I’ve told you so much about.”
Stiles doubted that random junkies were a regular topic at the family dinner, but he didn’t say anything. He had a goal in mind, and Gerard didn’t look like he enjoyed people mouthing off.
The old man looked him over, like he was a piece of gum stuck on the sole of his shoe.
“Strip.”
Stiles swallowed, glancing quickly at Kate. She nodded her head at him, smiling in a way that made him second guess himself.
“Go on, baby, try to make a good impression.”
Stiles licked his lips, and got to it. He felt stupid and weird with her watching him undress for her father. Without the warmth of drugs in him, he was acutely aware of how boney and pale and… ugly he was.
When he was finished, he just stood there, eyes glued to a spot over Gerard’s shoulder, wanting to cover himself but knowing that he shouldn’t. 
“Don’t you like him, daddy?” Kate asked, sounding like she was pouting, but Stiles didn’t dare look at her again.
“I would have preferred a girl. You know that,” Gerard said. Stiles would have pissed himself if that much disdain was directed at him, but Kate just laughed, her voice sweet and light.
“But I don’t want to have a little sister or brother,” she said, teasing. “Chris is enough of a headache.”
Gerard barked out a laugh, sitting up straight.
“Damned right he is. Fine.” He picked up a shiny, darkwood box from the side table, opening it in his lap. It was lined with dark green velvet and there was an injection needle in it. It looked like it was antique, with little rings at the end of the crossbars. Beside it was a corked vial, filled with something that glittered like mercury, though lighter in color.
“Come here and get on your knees,” Gerard told him, not even glancing at Stiles. He clearly expected to be obeyed.
“I… What… what is that?” Stiles asked, watching him stab the needle through the cork and pulling some of the liquid into the syringe.
Gerard looked at him.
Stiles made the mistake of meeting his gaze.
Suddenly Kate was behind him, her breasts pressing into his naked back. 
“That’s the good stuff, baby. That’s the real Silver Bullet right there, the same one you love so much, just a thousand times better,” she whispered in his ear. “And if you want it, you better be a good boy.”
Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off the syringe. Just the mention of the drug made all his cravings rush back tenfold. He wanted it. He wanted to feel it so bad.
He dropped on his knees in front of Gerard without any more hesitation. He didn’t like needles, and he didn’t like him, but he wanted… He needed the high.
Stiles didn’t expect to be backhanded hard enough to make his ears start ringing. There was a dizzying moment when he forgot where he was or why. Gerard grabbed his jaw, his fingers biting into him.
“When I give an order, I expect you to follow, is that understood?” he asked, sneering into his face from up close. 
Stiles whined. His right cheek was burning. It would probably bruise… But it wasn’t even close to being the worst thing he ever got just to get high.
The man stared into his eyes for a long moment, maybe waiting for him to put up a fight, but all Stiles wanted was the Silver Bullet. 
“Good,” he said finally, patting his face where it hurt. “Open your mouth.”
Stiles did.
Gerard trapped his tongue between his knuckles and pulled it outward and to the side. His fingers tasted salty and a bit bitter.
“This way, it will get right to your head,” he commented, Stiles closed his eyes as he saw the syringe getting closer. He just wanted to be alive again. “Don’t move.”
Gerard injected him at the base of his tongue. There was a sharp bite of pain that made him suck in a breath. He could feel his mouth flood with saliva.
And then…
Stiles remembered how happy he was back when he was just a kid and his mom bought him exploding candy. It was sweet and sour and like he had a little firework going off in his mouth. This was like that, but he could feel it in his head, his skull was filled with exploding candy, popping and popping and throwing sparks of flavors and colors and shapes and smells in every direction, every nerve in his body sizzling and popping and popping… The world was suddenly and inexplicably beautiful. 
Everything was so pretty and bright and pleasurable that it almost hurt. 
He could feel his hips pumping into the air, body convulsing like it was caught in an orgasm that just didn’t want to end. There were still fingers in his mouth and he moaned, licking and sucking at them eagerly. He felt like he was a flame, radiating pleasure and everything around him reflected it back, just amplifying it even more until he was drowning in light.
***
“What a nasty little slut,” Gerard said, letting the boy kneeling in front of him suckle on his fingers, slurping around his knuckles like he was trying to give the blowjob of his life. His eyes were glazed over and he was twitching almost alarmingly. “It’s been… what? Forty seconds? And he already came twice.”
Kate laughed, leaning against the doorframe.
“You like him, don’t you?” she asked, crossing her arms.
Gerard did, but he didn’t want Kate to know. The girl had to learn to do better, even if she managed to do an adequate job with this one.
“Should have been a girl,” Gerard reminded her, pushing his fingers in as deep as they could go, nudging the boy’s tonsils. He didn’t gag, but his eyes did roll back. Ah, and he was coming. Again. “But I will take it.”
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