#and everything just doesn’t feel right and its wrong and

[bangtanflirt]

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 13)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: SA trauma recovery and boundary setting, recovering from malnourishment, jealousy, hard dom/sub sexual dynamics, dirty talk, rough sex with anal penetration and breath play, mental infidelity (morally grey since packs have a different view of relationships and exclusivity, but characters are feeling guilty about their thoughts)

____

Namjoon takes the white towel from Hoseok’s hand, motioning for the older wolf to sit on the bed and let him dry his hair. He hums as he massages his packmate’s scalp through the towel, smiling at how cute Hoseok looks when he’s relaxed like this. It’s not just the way his eyes flutter, but everything else. It’s only been a few days since he’s been eating proper meals, but that—and the fancy vitamin supplements you’ve been giving him—have been making visible progress in fighting his malnourishment. His face is no longer sunken in and colorless, and his hair has gotten some of its shine back as well.

There are still moments where everything feels dizzy and weird, as his body relearns to enjoy eating, but overall, Hoseok is in a much better place with food.

“You’re getting your glow back.”

The wolf smiles, feeling his almost dry hair, “Feeling a lot better these days.”

Namjoon pulls away from drying to face Hoseok, fingers gently stroking the wolf’s cheek.

“Tae and Jimin told me about the conversation they had with you. I told the others as well. If you say it’s okay, then I’m going to assume it is. I’m trusting you to set your own boundaries, you know that right?”

It’s moments like these where Namjoon shines the brightest in Hoseok’s eyes. Moments where he knows exactly what to say.

“I am okay, I promise. Thank you for trusting me.” This conversation could have gone a different way, and Hoseok was bracing himself for how frustrating it could’ve been.

But Namjoon knows the difference between leading his pack and infantilizing them, and he’s never for a second thought of Hoseok as incapable of making his own decisions. It’s just, most of the time, the wolves want him to make these decisions instead. It makes them feel safe and cared for when an Alpha does all the thinking.

A gentle knock on the open doorframe interrupts the moment, with both heads turning towards you.

“Just the two I wanted to talk to. Can I come in?”

Hoseok nods immediately, while Namjoon nervously goes along with it. He still doesn’t know how to be around you after realizing the extent of his crush. It feels wrong to look at someone else’s girlfriend with the way he looks at you. Especially not when he’s taken himself.

Hence the way he looks everywhere but at you when you sit in front of them.

“I have a proposition.”

Namjoon can’t help the little chuckle that comes out, endeared by how you sound like you’re leading a boardroom negotiation right now.

Your eyes narrow, looking at him with a pout.

“Sorry, you just looked cute.”

The words leave his mouth faster than he processes what he’s said.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Did I really just say that out loud?

The blush on his cheeks is violent red. You don’t seem phased, though, as you laugh it off.

“Hobi, you better hold onto your Alpha before I steal him.”

Namjoon knows it’s nothing more than a joke to you, but the words have him shifting uncomfortably in seat.

Hoseok obliviously smiles, “You can try Y/N, but our Alpha is too head over heels over us for that to ever happen.”

The Alpha gives a strained smile. Of course, nothing could ever tear him away from his packmates—but that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty for what he’s feeling towards you.

“Fair enough. Okay, back to my proposition.”

You hand Namjoon a manilla folder, with the name “Cha Mi-Suk” over it.

“Cha Mi-Suk?”

“She’s a psychiatrist who also provides psychotherapy, and she’s agreed to work with Hoseok—if that’s okay with the two of you. Assuming I’m supposed to ask you both. Or is it just a conversation between Hoseok and I? Or do I need to ask the whole pack. Sorry I’m not--” you can’t help going on a tangent and tripping over your own words.

This whole hierarchy thing was confusing and new, and you wanted to make sure you were doing it right. On one hand, it feels condescending towards Hoseok to have to ask Namjoon’s permission. However, not asking Namjoon feels like you’re dismissing his authority over them. They don’t teach you this stuff in business school.

“Relax Y/N. This is okay.” Namjoon reassures, “Hobi prefers I make these kinds of decisions for him.”

Hoseok nods, peeking at the papers as the other wolf flips through them.

“But how did you get someone to agree to this? Isn’t it illegal?”

Yes, it very much is illegal. Hybrids are only allowed “therapy” in state-sanctioned facilities like adoption centers, where the government can keep the extent of it under supervision. Designed to gaslight and manipulate hybrids until they bottle the trauma down enough to get adopted, rather than working to help them in any meaningful way. It’s not rocket science to see why private practices aren’t allowed: that would mean giving the hybrids a voice, and possibilities of therapists empathizing with them.

Which is why you were as careful as possible while looking into this for the past few days, all with the help of your boyfriend.

“It’s going to be risky to even ask, but I think Cha Mi-Suk is our best shot if we’re proceeding.” Yoongi had said this morning, over the phone.

“I’ll ask.”

“No, let me. You’ve never broken the law before, Y/N. It’s best to keep your hands clean.”

“I can afford to be in trouble. You can’t. And I know I’ve been a stickler for the law, but I don’t think I’ll regret breaking this one. Not when it’s so cruel.”

You remembered Mi-Suk from one of the parties you’d attended in the past, mother to the CEO of a start-up you had helped get on its feet. She would’ve been forgettable if not for the little scene she had caused during dinner—drinking one too many glasses of champagne and reprimanding another guest for being sleazy towards their fox hybrid.

It was an unusual scene at one those events, someone actually defending a hybrid…something you wished you were brave enough to do back then, without caring of what anyone would say or think about you.

You had found her admirable in that moment.

Thankfully, you and Yoongi’s hunches were right, and it took very little convincing (and a lot of money) to get her on board.

“You’re right, it is illegal. That’s why it’ll have to be a secret. It won’t be on any official records, and she’ll never meet him in person. If we go through with it, Yoongi and I will set up a secure private video chat that he can use for weekly sessions.”

Namjoon nods along, scanning all of her information and credentials with a protective instinct.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? Breaking the law for us?”

“If it means Hobi can sleep a little better at night, I’m willing to do anything.”

The Alpha can’t help the way his heart flutters when he hears that. How can he hold himself back when you talk as if his pack is your own? You’re really not making this easy for him.

Hoseok’s eyes have stars in them, finally seeing a glimmer of hope for the future.

“It’s okay with me,” Namjoon concludes, “I think it’d be good for you, pup. What do you think?”

The wolf nods at lightning speed, “I’ll give anything a try! Thank you Alpha! Thank you Y/N!”

___

Yoongi comes home in the evening, singing to himself as he takes his shoes off. It’s hard to keep his tune, though, when there’s a constant soft thud coming from one of the rooms. He follows the sound to your library, where a determined blonde wolf is trying to fix one of the side tables.

“You’re going to split the wood if you hammer the screw that hard.”

Jin jumps up, too lost in concentration to register Yoongi’s cologne fill the room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yoongi joins the wolf on the floor, sitting a little too close for Jin to maintain composure. His cologne is inescapable now. A blended scent of maple and chestnut that makes the wolf feel both calm and nervous.

“Can I help?”

Jin nods, handing the hammer over while subconsciously licking his lips. There’s just something about Yoongi that he can’t help but be drawn to…an aura of confidence that’s never domineering—quiet, subtle, yet commanding. It tugs at his heartstrings in ways that’s usually only reserved for his pack.

Even now, he can’t help but want to watch this sight for hours: the way the man rolls up his sleeves and juts his lips out in concentration.

And how he knows just the right pressure to put on the nail…

…the way he shakes his hair out of his eyes.

…and, the cherry on top of the cake: his fucking fingers.

Long and narrow and so goddamn pretty wrapped around that hammer.

They’d probably look just as pretty inside of--

Jin shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it.

A mix of lust, guilt, and five hundred other emotions he can’t quite name yet all tornado in the pit of his stomach.

Can’t stay here. Can’t be near him right now.

All the alarm bells ring, and the wolf’s body language changes from too stiff to a jittery mess in seconds.

“I—uh—I remembered there’s something I have to do.” Is the most he can muster before almost running out, leaving a confused Yoongi to finish up the table by himself.

The wolf darts straight to where the smell of oranges is the strongest—the scent of his Alpha to replace the one of Yoongi’s cologne. Leading him straight to the bathroom of your home gym. Namjoon’s stripped down to his underwear, getting ready for a post-workout shower, when he gets ambushed with a hug.

“Hi to you too.” The wolf laughs, wrapping his arms around the welcomed intruder.

But then he notices something weird: Jin never hugs Namjoon when he’s all sweaty, so something was definitely off, “Is something wrong, hyung?”

“I need to feel you. Inside of me. And I need to feel it now because I’m going insane.”

Whatever Namjoon was expecting…this was not it. His underwear suddenly feels a lot tighter.

“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve heard in a while, but something’s clearly up…”

Jin doesn’t skip a beat to confess, doesn’t even avoid eye contact as the words come out of his mouth.

“I think I just got turned on by Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s eyes nearly bulge out of his eye sockets.

“You think WHAT?”

Jin crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes to stare the younger wolf down.

“Hey, no judgement. Don’t act like you don’t have any feelings for Y/N.”

If the first statement wasn’t enough to destabilize him, this one knocked the wind right out of his body.

“H-how did you know?”

“You really think you can keep anything from me? I’m your first packmate. I can read your thoughts like they’re written on your forehead.”

Namjoon coughs, face hot and red. This isn’t a conversation he’d ever planned on having. The plan was simple: crush on you for a little while, get over it on his own, never let a single packmate know.

But now, as it lays out in the open, the guilt has him scrambling.

“I can explain…I…”

Jin waves a hand dismissively, “Hush. We can have a rational talk about this later. Right now, I’m telling you, my Alpha, that I was thinking about another man’s fingers inside of me. So, are you going to do something about that or should I keep imagining—”

All guilt and remorse fade away from Namjoon’s eyes, leaving half-lidded dark orbs in their stead. He doesn’t wait for his packmate to rile him up any further before grabbing the blonde by the waist and hoisting him onto the bathroom counter, quite literally ripping off his clothes from his body.

“Now this, this is what I needed” Jin smirks, claws lightly dragging along Namjoon’s bare back.

“God, you’re such a fucking brat.”

Just the word “brat” has the older man whining. It’s been a minute since he’s been called that. Been years since he acted like one. Ever since the youngest three came into the picture, he’d fallen into more of a dominant role in the bedroom, with their omegas being much more needy than his beta. Although they were all more human than wolf—to the point where only the Alpha distinction really mattered—there was still an unspoken shift when omega hybrids joined the pack. Partly a hormonal thing, but more societal. A beta is supposed to help their Alpha keep the omegas happy. That’s just how it’s always been. When it was just him and Hoseok with Namjoon, the betas could act however they wanted with their Alpha. But the moment Jimin first came into their lives, everything shifted. Suddenly, there was an omega in the picture. Then two. Then three.

And unlike Hoseok, who seemed to prefer giving care, it took Jin a little longer to fit into his new role. Granted, it wasn’t difficult at all—how could it be, when he adored the omegas to the moon and back? When it was instinct to dote on them? It wasn’t long before he grew to love their new dynamic, putting his all into spoiling the pups.

But now, as content as he is with his role in the pack, he can’t help the excitement that surges in his veins at being called a brat again. It makes him feel like that young little wolf he was all those years ago, at the bar where he first met Namjoon. He had spent the entire night pushing just the right buttons to get the Alpha riled up, knowing he’d be in for quite the lesson in the back alley afterwards. And he couldn’t have been more right.

The Jin and Namjoon of those days were fiery and hot and burned each other when skin touched skin. But as the burning passion replaced itself with quiet comfort, it seemed as if only the omegas’ scents could get Namjoon riled up in the same way.

Or so Jin thought. Because looking at his Alpha now, it’s as if the pheromones of fifty omegas are calling to him at the moment. All from a little jealousy.

“Same limits? And safeword?” Namjoon makes sure Jin is fully present in the moment, getting him to squeeze his hand as he answers.

Jin nods, “Same limits, red, and tap twice if I can’t speak.”

“Good boy. I’m not going to hold back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Namjoon brings his face close to the beta’s neck, grazing his skin with the tips of his canines before whispering in the older man’s ear.

“If you think about him even once while I’m fucking you, I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for months. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes Alpha.”

With Jin’s clothes in a ripped up pile on the floor, the Alpha wastes no time in spreading his beta’s hole wide open, circling the puckered rim with his index finger. He laughs at how just this act gets the older wolf’s ears red in embarrassment.

“Fuck, you look so tight. You could pass as a virgin right now. But don’t worry, Alpha will make it fit.”

Every sinful word coming out of Namjoon’s mouth has Jin getting slicker by the second. But even as slick as he is, the first finger still causes him to jolt up, squirming at the intrusion.

His legs flail on both sides of Namjoon, unable to find footing on anything as he’s on the edge of the counter. The younger wolf decides to show a little mercy and push him back against the mirror, letting the soles of his feet find some balance.

It’s the only mercy Namjoon’s going to give, however, because his finger is sliding in and out of the man with unrelenting speed. And just when Jin’s tensing up a little less, body adjusting to the feeling, the second finger thrusts in with even more force.

“Still so tight. Gonna need three fingers to open you up.”

Jin shakes his head, “Can’t—fuck!—Can’t take three. Please, I’m too—ungh—tight.”

Namjoon uses his free hand to grab the wolf’s chin, demanding eye contact.

“Unless you say the safeword, only I decide how much you can take. Understood?”

“U-understood! Sorry Alpha!”

Contrasting his harsh tone, Namjoon’s eyes are dialed in on every movement Jin is making, fully aware of what his body language looks like when he’s at his limits—which isn’t right now.

No, right now he’s just being an absolute brat. And it’s Namjoon’s duty to make sure he fucks it out of him.

The third finger is especially brutal in the stretch, causing tears to pool around his eyes. It’s the best kind of pain, the kind that has him grow more and more slick—until the wetness is running down Namjoon’s hands and it feels like even four fingers could slide in easily. But a fourth never comes.

Instead, his hole is left empty and twitching as Namjoon slides down his own boxers—cock standing deliciously tall and dribbling pre-cum.

Jin closes his eyes, trying to take deep breaths to prepare for the intrusion, but even that luxury is taken from him. Because, before anything even goes near his hole again, the Alpha’s hand wraps around his throat—allowing just enough airflow to keep him conscience.

If Namjoon thought Jin was tight before, it’s nothing compared to now, when his restricted airways only make his hole clench even harder around nothing. It’s not just lust in the air, but a primal need to be as close as possible after three months of becoming strangers to each other’s bodies. Namjoon can’t have his mate forgetting the pleasure only he can give. Can’t have him thinking about any men outside of the pack just because he hasn’t provided his touch in a while.

He lines himself to the entrance, letting a deep growl escape his lips as the head pops in. The blonde’s eyes to widen to the size of saucers at the stretch, throat still too closed off to properly moan.

“Still good?”

Unable to speak, the beta signals a thumbs up sign, giving Namjoon the go ahead to keep pushing all the way in. Only when he’s bottomed out does he let go of Jin’s neck, opting to wrap around the man’s cock instead. Sounds of skin slapping get louder as Namjoon fully loses himself, reveling in the way his length is being squeezed.

The sound mixes effortlessly with Jin’s sultry moans—thankfully, the size of the mansion spares the sounds from blaring throughout the house.

Even if he wasn’t inside of him right now, this visual alone could drive Namjoon wild: his gorgeous packmate, with flushed cheeks and tightly shut eyes, chasing for an orgasm that’s just out of reach. It’s the kind of expression that makes him wish he was a full wolf—one that could give his mate a proper knot. Because god knows what Jin would’ve looked like getting knotted. The thought alone almost makes him lose it. But he calms himself down, mindful of his current mission: making sure the man in front of him is fucked utterly dumb.

“Who do you belong to?”

The wolf doesn’t—can’t—answer immediately, brain too wired from the cock drilling into him. But he manages to let out a whiny, barely intelligible “you.”

“Are you thinking of anyone else right now?”

Jin shakes his head no, almost violently. He barely knows where he is anymore, let alone any other name besides his Alpha’s. All that he can think about are the eight inches of pure bliss hitting against his prostate, and the big hand that’s sloppily stroking his length.

“Words, brat.”

“No! Only you! Only-ungh-you!”

It only takes a few more strokes for Jin to be pushed all the way over the edge, legs shaking as he rides his high, shooting strings of white on Namjoon’s chest in the process. The sight is all it takes for Namjoon’s orgasm to hit in tandem, all of his senses reaching their heights before disappearing entirely—until the only thing he can feel is the pleasure overtaking every nerve in his body. The two stay still for a moment, both fearing overstimulation from any movement as they stabilize their breaths.

It’s Jin who moves first, gently pushing the Alpha off of him. The two watch, mesmerized, at where they separate: the Alpha’s cum slowly leaking out onto the countertop. It’s so much cum.

“You’re lucky I’m back to feeling nice, or I would make you lick all of it up.”

Jin lets out an out-of-breath chuckle, body still leaned against the mirror, “I won’t waste a single drop next time. Promise.” The tiredness catches up to him, causing his eyes to close on their own as Namjoon cleans the mess.

“Come on baby, we should shower.”

“Too tired.”

“You don’t want to go out there all sticky and sweaty, do you?”

Jin whines for a moment, because the feeling of stickiness and sweat are definitely uncomfortable, but he also can’t feel his legs enough for a shower.

“Fine. But you have to carry me.”

Namjoon laughs while lifting the wolf up, letting him wrap his legs around his torso as he makes his way over to the stall. The warm water runs between both of their bodies, washing away every trace of the lewd acts that were just committed. Every trace except the smell of sex that lingers in the air, mixing with the orange and vanilla of the two hybrids. They stay like that for a while, hugging under the water as Namjoon hums a soft melody in Jin’s ear. Eventually, Namjoon does put the wolf down to properly wash him, supporting both of their body weights as the beta still can’t seem to stand.

“Was I too rough? It’s been so long…”

“You weren’t. I loved it. I love you.” Jin punctuates with a kiss, as deep and passionate as the first one they shared.

“I love you too. I’m sorry about Y/N.”

“And I’m sorry about Yoongi. I know you’re not his biggest fan.”

“So…where do we go from here?” It’s a rare moment, where Namjoon’s the one asking instead of answering. But the look on his face makes it clear that he really doesn’t know.

“We keep each other’s secret.”

Namjoon quirks up a brow as Jin further explains, “We keep it between us, manage our feelings, and the pack never has to know. I’m guessing that’s what you were planning on doing anyway, so just add me into it.”

Damn, Jin really did have him all figured out.

“Okay. We’ll keep it between us.”

Fool-proof plan, right?

____

A/N: Don't worry friends, Hobi was NOT listening to that filth. Baby was watching Netflix with Jimin on the other side of the mansion (after excitedly telling him about therapy <3)

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universe @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #ot7 x reader #poly bts #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

[beskarandblasters]

Guilty as Sin

Virgin Stalker!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by the song, Guilty as Sin? for the Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! This can also be read as a prequel for A Touch So Innocent but completely works on its own! 🤍🤍🤍

Summary: Din jerks off while thinking about his crush.

Word count: 400

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), masturbation, allusions to smut, stalker ish behavior, written in third person

Late at night, tucked away in the comfort of the Razor Crest, Din tugs off his glove, tossing it on the floor. His cock is hard, aching to be touched already. Begrudgingly he gives into his urges. He wishes she was here, stroking his cock, straddling him– driving him wild. He doesn’t know what that feels like, being wrapped in a woman’s embrace, having a cunt envelop his cock. But if anyone’s going to be his first, it’s going to be her.

He pictures her underneath him, squirming, back arching in pleasure. He imagines what her melodic moans would sound like, bouncing off the walls of the Crest and soft gasps tickling the shell of his ear. He thinks about kissing her, their lips coming together in a sloppy mess. He thinks about marking up her body with his mouth, claiming her as his own. Maker, he tries his hardest to imagine what spilling his load inside her would feel like, a warm symphony of bodies coming together as he gives himself to her completely. Just like they’re meant to be, an unspoken vow between them. 

He looks down, watching as pre-cum built up at his tip spreads down his shaft with the movement of his hand. He’s close already. And now he’s conflicted. Ever since he laid his eyes on her, he swore to himself every drop of his seed would be hers, never wasted. But yet here he is, on the precipice of orgasm all due to his fantasies about her. One day, his imagination just isn’t going to cut it anymore. 

He lets go, cum coating his hand as he strokes himself through his high. The built-up waves of pleasure come crashing down. He moans under his helmet, uttering her name as his head is thrown back in pleasure. Until it ends and he’s left with the mess he just made. 

He should feel guilty– guilty for imagining these elaborate fantasies about a woman he’s never even touched. He’s barely spoken a word to her. Everything he’s learned about her is from stalking and snooping, small invasions of her privacy here and there, overhearing her conversations in the marketplace. It’s wrong but he can’t help inside. He’s completely and utterly fixated on her and only her. 

Perhaps he does feel guilty. But not for the right reasons. 

That load should’ve gone inside her. 

And for that, he feels guilty as sin. 

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader #ts drabble challenge #star wars fanfiction #pedrostories

[deathbecomesthem]

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader blurb (wc 790)

Summary: You have a depression induced crying jag. Eddie comforts you. Based on my own experience.

Warnings: This is how my depression feels for me sometimes. It's not a universal thing. I just wanted Eddie to comfort the reader, and meet them where they are.

*Not proofread.

** This is something that was published on a different blog sometime last year. It's going here tonight because I need it.

--

The wrongness was weighing on you, it had been for the last few days. It’s second nature, hiding behind the jokes. You learned a long time ago how to move through your days while your mind is in its darkest corners. You have the script memorized, your hands do the work that’s required without you making the decision to do it.

So you did. You did and did and did. You accomplished. You ate food. You drank water. You relieved yourself. You even managed the expected small talk with your coworkers. No one noticed that the corner of your smile never quite sat right on your face. And now, as you and Eddie sit on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, you can’t do it anymore.

“Hey, Ed, I’m really tired,” you give his knee a little shake to draw his attention away from whatever show he was watching on the television. A cartoon, you don’t know, you’re not actually here with him at the moment. You make sure to keep your voice light and steady, “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You give him your smile, and you know it must look wrong, but you hope it’s enough to satisfy him. You kiss his cheek, his lips are downturned missing the warmth of your body next to him. He says something to you, and you just nod and say goodnight, hoping you remembered the correct words, mentally checking your script.

You don’t stop in the kitchen and get a glass of water. You don’t go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You don’t even stop to take an allergy pill. You float along the carpet with one thought in your mind. So close. You can close the door and finally be alone and let the dark move to the front of your mind in privacy.

You do not put your clothes in the hamper. You let them fall to the ground. You do not put your soft night clothes on. You pad to the bed, climb under the covers, and the dam breaks. Sobs wrack your body, wailing like a child into your pillow to muffle the sound. The soft darkness wraps around you and pulls you deep into a feeling of loss and pain. The release of everything you’ve held onto for the last few days – weeks – years all comes crashing through you in a violent way. It feels like grief, like mourning. A loss of something you can’t quite remember.

It goes on like this. On and on. Snot and tears covering your pillow while you howl. You care less and less about the noise the further you sink into the darkness. The last time you cried like this (wept, really) was years ago. Tears do not come easily for you, and at this moment, you know they won’t stop until you fall asleep – resting in the dark, face puffy and stained.

You don’t hear Eddie come into the room. You don’t feel him get into the bed next to you. You’re gone, lost to anything but feeling the pain and letting it surge through you physically. You do feel the warmth of his arm around your center. Firm and pulling you into him. He doesn’t quiet your wails, he just wraps his arms and legs around your body. His weight grounding you and keeping you from getting lost more than you already are.

Minutes, hours, days, months, years pass in that bed. You weave in and out of consciousness, every time you find yourself in bed with Eddie’s body enveloping you. His mouth pressed against your neck, his warm and steady breath releasing from his nose and into your hair. Sleep finally takes you under when your own breathing matches the rhythm of his lungs. You rest in those strong arms, comforting. They are your home.

In the morning when your alarm rings, Eddie’s arms and legs are still holding you, relaxed with sleep but you still feel held. Your eyes are swollen and it’s difficult to open them. Despite sleeping, your body is more exhausted then before you came into the bedroom last night.

His arms pull you into him as he’s roused, nose back in your neck. “Baby. I’m here.” The choked sob that comes from you is not as hopeless as the grief you felt in the night. Not with his voice, breath, heartbeat, and arms so close to you.

You both stay in bed while you make the phone calls. You’re both sick today and can’t go to work, you tell your bosses. You ate something bad yesterday, maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow. Today, though, you need to rest and Eddie needs to be with you.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn #angst #eddie munson fluff

[sequinsmile-x]

Quality Time

She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.

Part of the Love Languages series

-x-

Hi besties,

This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.

This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.

I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It’s late when he gets home. 

He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side. 

He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room. 

“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.” 

“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.” 

She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.” 

He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it. 

“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”

She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.” 

His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily. 

She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.” 

He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”

She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down. 

“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.” 

“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.” 

She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would. 

She’d never be alone again. 

“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.” 

She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to. 

Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again. 

She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin. 

Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.” 

Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress. 

She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage. 

She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.” 

“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”

She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?” 

He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?” 

She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.” 

He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.” 

She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest. 

“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”  

Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.” 

She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in. 

“Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.” 

He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 

Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.” 

“Em.”

___

He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental. 

She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him. 

“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house. 

“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.” 

She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.” 

He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”

Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!” 

When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down. 

“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder. 

“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.” 

She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.” 

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”

She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.” 

He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.” 

She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it. 

She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together. 

She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.” 

“You’re the love of my life too,”  he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else. 

A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life. 

He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.” 

He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.” 

They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem. 

“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline. 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.” 

She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.” 

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.” 

-x-

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#hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

I have come back am I allowed to ask about more WIPs from your list. I am so so curious about "Shen Yuan Gets Two Daemons", the intersection of daemons with transmigration is so interesting to me. (I may be back again later but I am trying once again to not do So Many Asks At Once)

omg thank u for the continued asks!!

for this fic, the concept is that when shen yuan transmigrates into shen qingqiu, he takes over the OGs body but not his soul. therefore ergo, shen qingqiu is gone, but his daemon is still there. shen yuan reluctantly makes a deal with the og scum villain's daemon—xiu ya won't turn him in for the body snatching if shen yuan works on finding a way to resurrect shen qingqiu. shen yuan's own soul is very excited to suddenly have a body of her own AND a bonus brother.

Shen Yuan returns to the world of the living with a scream.  Not his own, as it turns out. He awakens laying in bed, something warm and soft and weighty laying in his chest. There’s a soft thump thump thump that beats in time with his heart. For a moment, he feels perfectly at peace—like the best ASMR ever, sending tingles through his whole body and making every muscle relax.  That’s when the screaming starts.  Shen Yuan shoots up and instantly regrets it. The weight on his chest goes flying off with a discontented noise, and the room spins around him. He’s caught between a need to get up, to find and soothe the source of the sound, and an arresting vertigo that steals the air from his lungs. The result is him flailing half way out of bed in a tangle of—silk?  Two large, firm hands catch him around the shoulders.  “Shidi, please, stay in bed. Everything will be alright. I’ve called for Mu Qingfang. A-Su is doing what she can. Just stay still.”  Shen Yuan doesn’t recognize the latter name, but the former pings something in the back of his mind. He looks up blearily as those hands gently press him back into the mattress.  The man leaning over him has a broad, handsome face that, combined with the dark eyes and gentle, worried crease to his brow, immediately puts Shen Yuan in mind of his older brothers. He allows this to be his excuse for folding right away, letting himself be manhandled back into bed even as half of his brain is clawing for him to move, to help. He looks over the man’s shoulder, searching for the source of the agonized screaming. It sounds like someone is being murdered. What he finds is a sight his mind can’t fully comprehend. There is a large dog in a corner of the room with its paw holding something down. The thing under its paw is a shifting mass, leaking strange golden dust. One moment there is fur, then feathers, then scales. It screams all the while.  “What’s wrong with him?” Shen Yuan asks blankly.  “I’m not sure,” the man says, “but we are going to fix it.” His eyes look sad.  There is a little scrabbling noise, barely audible over the creature in the corner’s yelling. A fluffy white cat jumps onto the mattress and climbs up onto Shen Yuan’s chest.  “Ah,” he says, and his hands instinctively come up around her. She must be what he accidentally flung away before.  She makes a sleepy grumble and gets comfortable. Shen Yuan finds his energy and his ability to comprehend his surroundings fading rapidly, now that she is there, warm and solid in his arms. He bats away the human hand that reaches for his wrist absently.  “Xiao Jiu, that—”  The man next to the bed looks strangely horrified as he drifts off. Shen Yuan has no idea who he was talking to.

#daemon au #svsss #svsss fic #scum villain fanfic #qijiu #bingqiu #his dark materials #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #yue qingyuan #scum villains self saving system #scum villain #burywrites.pdf #buryspeaks.mp3 #my fics #my writing #this one also doesnt have a title rip #also very little written of it bc sadly its lined up after some other fics on the assembly line at the moment rip #but its gonna get here eventually #unless? maybe i use this as my freeform prompt for the gotcha? we shall see

[calmangel]

No because why am I scared of being made fun of for loving these men when Destiel is probably the most beautiful thing ever created.

An angel pulls a righteous man from hell and heals his wounds and is so overcome with this triumph that he screams DEAN WINCHESTER HAS BEEN SAVED so loud that he awakens fallen angels. He rebuilds this man from dust. The man is scared of Castiel, they don’t trust each other, but they need each other—the man begs the angel to see why Heaven, why God’s plan is corrupt and the angel should trust him. Against nature, breaking from the script, against God, his Father—the angel rebels. The angel rips out the part of him that serves Heaven all for this man and only because he asks. Only because now he’s starting to feel, and angels don’t feel.

What’s coming isn’t an easy task—the man considers giving himself up but the angel won’t let him, beating him unconscious while yelling I rebelled for this? And still, when the day comes, the angel dies for him. The angel attacks his own brothers for this man, is incinerated instantly, and never gave it a second thought.

After the angel is resurrected, they spend years trying to fix everything for each other and almost always do it wrong. They are eventually sent to purgatory together, and the man spends every waking moment praying to his angel. He could’ve escaped, he could’ve been angry at the angel for his misdoings, but he stayed, ripping flesh and killing anything in his way to get to the angel. But he doesn’t understand—the angel, upset, says they’re after me, Dean. I avoid you to protect you. The man won’t listen. He can’t. He pulls the angel to the exit but their hands slip right there, on the precipice. And the man is so distraught that he tells himself he’d let go by accident, but we know this isn’t true. The angel wanted to stay, wanted to feel punishment. The angel saved the righteous man and stayed behind.

But they can’t be kept apart can they?

The angel finds his way back, like always, and Dean is seeing his face everywhere. Dean blames himself. It’s easier than thinking his angel wanted to stay. It’s easier than being abandoned.

Heaven isn’t happy with this angel—this silly thing that gave up its innate purpose and programming all for a human—so they attempt to rewire him, resorting to lobotomy as a way to force him into conforming. They create infinite copies of his human and force him to kill each one, testing his loyalties. And after all this, after being turned into a mindless soldier through torture, it only takes one thing to break the connection. Dean, on his knees, saying I need you.

And this does not fix everything. Now the angel is desperate to undo his wrongs, searching for ways to repay him; so desperate that he misplaces his trust and is irreparably damaged, intimately violated by God’s Scribe. His grace, every part of his angelic traits, is stolen from him, literally ripped from his throat before the Scribe sends all angels plummeting to the Earth. And now the angel is an entirely new species—a human, soft and vulnerable, with nothing to his name—a prime target of angry, wingless angels.

There is only one thing he can do. He can call his human, beg for help, but it’s not going to come quickly. He has to decide between eating and warding himself from his murderous siblings. He virtuously refuses to steal or hurt anyone. He just wants to be safe. He trusts the wrong person and, seconds away from being saved by his human, is stabbed through the heart. Although his brother is injured, Dean caresses his angel’s face and sobs, insisting that the entity inside his brother’s body fix Cas despite how it will hurt the entity and likely put Dean’s brother at risk. It doesn’t matter. Then they go home, and the angel feels safe for the first time as a human.

But nothing lasts forever. The entity inside Sam is anxious, insecure around Cas, and so Dean asks the angel to leave. For probably the first time, Castiel feels intense sadness. Betrayal. Grief. Stress. And it’s because of his human, the one human he was attempting to make everything up to before. Well, apparently he hadn’t done well enough. The angel leaves, still desperate for cash and food, resorting to sleeping in the storeroom of a gas station to stay warm.

The angel has to protect himself from enemies, stealing angelic grace just to keep going. At the same time, Dean takes on the mark of Cain and slowly loses sanity. The angel earns a league of likeminded angels that believe in him, and it finally looks like maybe he can do things on his own again. Naturally, this can’t last for long—his allegiance to this dangerous, marked human is too risky for any angels to trust him.

And his allegiance is tested, but holds strong. Dean can tear the angel to pieces and he’ll still lay there on the floor, unwilling to harm him, and Dean will walk away knowing he could’ve killed Cas but didn’t. Couldn’t.

Over and over, they fight together or they fight each other and it never ends any different. They stick together. They get angry about how the other is acting. And they stay, because leaving just isn’t an option.

The next time the angel dies, the righteous man isn’t the same. He can’t accept it now, now that it seems real and now that the angel was so solidly good, so individualistic and pure. He burns his body and watches, red-eyed. This time it’s real. This time God isn’t on their side to bring him back. So he does what he knows—he drinks, he hides in comfort, he puts himself at risk. He starts thinking that maybe the solution to their problems is for him to die—really, hadn’t they destroyed the natural order enough?

And then the angel calls him from a payphone and all thoughts of ending his life are wiped from his mind. Dean didn’t care how he’d returned, just brought him home and indulged in a way they never did—they took a fun case, they dressed up like cowboys and caught a bad guy.

They’re not allowed fun, though. They’re doomed by the narrative—the God that is insistent upon failure. Over and over they’re tested, and no matter whose mother is killed and whose psyche is broken by being blamed for it, they stay together. Because you can hate and love at the same time. Because you don’t really hate them.

And at the end of it all, they’re still together. In the angel’s last moments, it’s still only about his human. What’s important is getting Dean safe, is coming up with a plan that saves Dean. Because even though Castiel had all his grace, Dean was the powerful one. Dean was the one who needed to kill God, who needed to stay alive, and who deserved a life.

And the angel did the only thing he knew how to do, the only thing that always worked—he sacrificed himself for his human. He told his human that he was in love with him, and told him the things he needed to hear, and let himself be swallowed up by eternity. All for Dean. For Dean, who was still beautiful.

And this did save the world, but Dean wasn’t the same, really. He vowed to give himself a good life, try to move forward, but it really wasn’t going to happen was it? It was always going to end in his brother’s arms after a hunt. And he was okay with it. And when he got to Heaven, sitting beside his true father with a beer in hand, he heard Cas’s name and smiled. It had been ages since he smiled.

#spn #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #dean x castiel #sorry I’m just like. it’s so good? I know the ending is blegh but like #the love story should be appreciated for what it is as well as what it could’ve been #so many writers know exactly what they created and I think we should appreciate it even if they weren’t allowed to write it more obviously

[placeinthisworld]

ttpdta review part one 🤠

let me preface this by stating that i am a swiftie first and person second in this situation. i have grown up with taylor and feel as if shes my big sister- yes i can make fun of her but if i see anyone else do it i will get fiercely protective. i do understand her music is not only art but also her form of therapy. that being said, throughout these nonsense notes i am constantly mentioning that taylor should go to therapy. i am aware of what she has said about therapy (and why she doesn’t go) but i would beg to differ with her…especially after this album release lol.

taylor is an extraordinary storyteller and song writer. i believe this album is full of evidence of that, but it also has some faults that prevent from being as good as i felt like it could have been. overall the album feels rushed.

i also feel like it’s important to recognize the elephant in the room. i know we probably all expected this to be a joe breakup album, so the fact that it turned out to be a “fuck you matty healy” album shook us all a little bit. i know matty had a controversial history, im not gonna sit here and defend him. i don’t know much about him other than what is forced against my will. i do however know that he struggles with mental health issues/ substance abuse/ addiction. i’m not gonna comment much about his personal issues, i don’t feel like that’s right and taylor’s constant references to drugs throughout ttpd definitely rubs me the wrong way. i should also mention i grew up with an active addict and do view things from that perspective, so i feel slightly triggered by the topic and my feelings about that may just be personal but i do mention that in my notes when it’s relevant.

lastly, i am not a music production girlie idk shit lol. i only know i am a aaron dessner stan so any song with his name im already biased towards and i am aware, if u don’t like that idk what to tell u lol. i just know what i feel like is “good” or “bad” but music is subjective🫶🏻

1. Fortnight:

Hate the functional alcoholic part. Like the beat, the chorus is catchy. One thing i love about a taylor swift song is that theres always a story and its always visual. I like the metaphor of the “good neighbors” of like having this teasing/ longing feeling for someone that you could have had a life with. “Your wife waters flowers/ i want to kill her + my husbands cheating/ i want to kill him” feeling like you were robbed of her life, feeling “all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february” reminiscing about the short period of time where you were together and convinced it would last forever (only for it to end before it even started). I do not listen to much post malone but i enjoyed his verse!! So many florida references we get it everything bad happens in florida.

i have not seen the video yet oooopsies

2. Ttpd:

i thought this was the opening of Hey Stephen (the remix) or something at first. gotta say i absolutely love the way she sings “you left your typewriter at my apartment/ straight from the tortured poets department” i enjoyed the vibe of this song, and lyrics up until the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate (OKAY SOOOOOOO ME CODED NGL I LAUGHED at this point i could let this lyric slide- bit then she had to mention the charlie puth and golden retriever thing and ngl it almost ruins the song entirely for me. Tbh when i first listened to the leak i thought this was a fake AI song and that i was sending around a fake leak bc these lyrics started to get a little weird to me. ‘Sometimes i wonder if youre gonna screw this up with me/ but you told lucy you’d kill yourself if i ever leave” …………girl i am begging you to see a therapist (side note did anyone else have a friend in hs whos bf would say that shit a lot?? I remember straight up fighting with a friend who refused to break up w her bf bc he would threaten to end his own life is she did and he was like 16? If an adult is saying that same shit i would be Very concerned not gossiping about it???) “i chose this cyclone with you” my first reaction was: ride the cyclone the musical? Overall i liked the first half but you lost me at charlie puth (hes the one with eyebrow right? I think i get him and miles teller mixed up) (i dont know who either of these men are)

3. My boy only breaks his favorite things:

Okay tbh i thought this was gonna be one of my least favorites, but the total opposite happened. I think this is one of my top 5 favorites on this album. I do think that there is a difference between a poem and a song and that they are not always interchangeable. I feel like if this was edited into a poem it would be KILLER. The visuals, the the story, the vocabulary, the sadness in it. “Im queen of sandcastles he destroys/ There was danger in the heat of my touch/ once i fix me/ hes gonna miss me/ i felt more when we played pretend then with all the kens / cause he took me out of my box” i feel like ever since folklore, taylors been trying to push these big fancy words and sometimes it feels awkward and forced, but this is one of the rare songs that doesn't suffer from that.

4. Down bad:

meh. Chorus is catchy. I dont love the narrative “fuck it if i cant have him/ i might just it would make no difference” but i also have never once experienced that over a person before lmao……….taylor go to therapy. Nothing really stands out about this to me otherwise. No offense, but it sounds like a generic jack antonoff song lol. Like maybe if another artist released this, i would enjoy it more but idk i wouldnt expect it from taylor i guess. Just kinda feels boring to me sorry if u enjoy it <3

5. So long, london:

oh man were done with british men now for real for real. “ two graves one gun. I'll find someone” its over for joe and matty (but thats fine if all she has to say about joe is what i think she said on this album i am happy i think We Get It…) Aaron dessner i love u (remember when he reposted me on his ig ahh).”i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift/ pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” + “I stopped trying to make him laugh/ stopped trying to drill the safe/ i didnt opt in to be our odd man out/ im pissed off you let me give you all of that youth for free” oof i FELT that one a LITTLE too hard. I think this is both a song about matty and joe- i think she had a life and an attachment to london just in general through both relationships, “im just mad as hell because i loved this place” and so reflecting back on how both are over and how all those plans with either are done. “You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days” OKAY kinda hate this phrase bc it feels like shes placing blame on whomever’s mental health/ depression, like as if they made the conscious decision to sacrifice the relationship solely. This very much feels like “how much sadness did you think i could take before i got bored???” overall top favorite songs bc it doesnt have too many cringey or odd lyrics and the production is 10/10 thank u aaron dessner ilysm king

6. But daddy i love him:

tbh when i got the leak this was the first song i listened to bc i thought it was gonna be the worst one and i wanted to get it over with (i was RIGHT until she dropped that second half……..) and i DIDNT have the lyrics obviously so i couldnt for the life of me figure out if she really said “im having his baby…..NO IM NOT!” until the VERY end of the song and bro…….the cringe. The cringe. The cringe. This is also when i started to question if this was real or if i was passing out a fake leak, lol. I dont understand how she could be saying this shit about matty. And like we all know it lol. “Sometimes growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all” …….but like does it??? I feel like thats kinda an oxymoron or something like i understand what shes trying to say and MOST of the time her metaphors and comparisons make sense to me but like this one doesnt. Growing up precocious means to grow up more advanced in maturity, how would that also mean not growing up at all? Is it just me getting stoned and overthinking things? “Ill tell you something about my good name/ its mine alone to disgrace” true that bestie ur doin a great job by being so politically quiet over the past couple of yeats after making a whole asss documentary about wanting to be on the right side of history. But I digress i am just one of those bitches performing soliloquies you'll never see. Overall this song is very weird and cringey imo and i wish it stayed in whatever vault it was sitting in lol.

7.Fresh out of the slammer: “In the shade of how he was feeling” -_- dont like this narrative already. I could honestly go on a rant about why i dont like this song but im going to spare for the sake of my sanity in this review of thirty one fucking songs but its along these lines “to the one who says im the girl of his american dreams” oh brother. otherwise i dont care for many of the lyrics, the chorus/ melody/vibe is mid i guess. It sounds like another jack song (i was right)

8. Florida!!!: “all my friends smell like weed or little babies” okay i know what she was trying to say but im SORRY you cant tell me she couldnt think of ANY other way to say her friends are either parents partiers lmao. Deserves jail for that but luckily the vibe and the chorus of the song are really catchy and florence’s voice is beautiful in it. “Well me and my ghost we had a hell of a time/ yes im haunted but im feeling just fine” CHILLS i loved it. I didnt think i would like this song but (maybe as much as i like no body, no crime which is meh) but no i lowkey love this song and think its really fun. Once again the drug references start to get heavy here in the album and like i mentioned i do get slightly triggered by drug mentions.

9. Guilty as sin?:

okay taylor we get it you masterbate. Another strong jack song and it’s pretty similar to others on the album so nothing besides the sexual lyrics stand out.

10. Whos afraid of little old me?:

“if you wanted me dead you should have just said/ nothing makes me feel more alive” ooooooooooh i love that. I feel like a live or an acoustic version of this song would give me CHILLS. “Is it a wonder i broke / lets hear one more joke/ then we can all laugh until i cry” honestly so relatable, “i was tame, i was gentle til the circus life made me mean” oh :( that hurt bc it just reminds me of the vibe shift during midnights era/ eras tour where it *feels* like she started to pull back from being taylor swift and started to become Taylor Swift (™) and the way her fans/ media has treated her made her mean or cold or something and that just makes me feel sad. “Whos afraid of little old me? You caged me and then you called me crazy! I am what i am cause you trained me! SO. WHOS. AFRAID. OF ME? Again the narcotics line kinda makes me feel icky but thats bc i have that thing about drugs and just dont LOVE all the references to them. Like i know its not that serious but theres a reason why i dont seek out artists that typically talk or write about that stuff ya know so its weird. Overall i think the production is one of the most unique ones on this part of the album.

11. I can fix him (no really i can):

i hate it all around i think. I hate the narrative of “i can fix him!! I can handle a dangerous man!!! No really i can!!!” there is a reason why this song is barely 3 mins long lol it should have been cut but i think taylor wanted to Be Edgy. i dont care for the productions or the lyrics, its very forgetful imo.

12. Loml:

okay i really thought this was gonna be a joe song (rip) so i was thinking it was gonna be really deep and sad and like it IS but with the context of it being the pt 2 fling with matty it doesnt seem like it now. Anyone who thinks this is not about matty please look at the lyrics and be so serious “whos gonna stop us from waltzing back into reklndled flames/ if we know the steps anyway” I think matty just said too much shit to taylor during their fling and taylor WAS truly convinced this her invisible string and he promised her a lot that he couldnt upkeep and ghosted her and she took it SUPER hard, i mean two breakups in one year is a lot (me, whos never been through a single breakup once). I just dont understand how she feels like matty is the greatest loss of her life. One of my favorite tracks on the album, “our field of dreams engulfed in fire/ your arsons match your somber eyes” a LOT of these lyrics are actually really good imo. I think im the only one that didnt find the “mr. steal your girl and make her cry” line idk i thought it was actually kinda neat, the phrasing of it, kinda contradicts the title “love of my life” because he was never that serious or respectful of her and only use her from the beginning. This is another song that i think would make KILLER poem over song. Overall i think the piano is haunting and a live version of this will make me die, thank u again aaron dessner 10/10

13. I can do it with a broken heart:

ngl i thought this was the opening to mastermind for a hot second- also gave me a scare on whether or not this was a fake leak lol. Catchy ass chorus but very YOYOK. “Breaking down i hit the floor/ All the pieces of me shattered/ as the crowd was shouting “more!” ooffffffff seeeeee that is exactly WHAT i was afraid she was feeling durning the eras tour after the joe breakup/ matty situation and all these stupid twitter and tik tok swiffers were out here overanalyzing EVERYTHING and demanding rep tv like every other day. “Im so depressed i act like its my birthday” …….okay taylor. Like a lot of people have said, i think she interchanges “depressed” for “sad” a lot and the two are not the same. I think taylor wrote this song (but specifically the “i cry a lot time but i am so productive” and was like “yup this part is gonna go viral on tik tok,” initially i wrote “feels like taylor saw that depression barbie commercial in barbie 2023 and wrote a song based on that” lol which i still agree with. Overall the production of this screams midnights reject lol, very jack antonoff. Over time this song has grown on me a lot. Originally i didnt care for it but now its kind of a bop but i think its bc its so similar to YOYOK. “Try and come for my job” @taylorswift deadass you couldn’t think of anything else to say instead. cmon. I was mostly on board until that very last part, just seemed very cheesy lol like its not a big deal but i thought it delivered well without it.

14. The smallest man who ever lived:

(aaron thank u for saving me and this entire album) “they just ghosted you/ now you know what it feels like” OUCH. “i dont even want you back i just want you to know/ if rusting my sparkling was the goal/ and i dont miss what we had but can someone give/ a message to the smallest man who ever lived” oh this was somber af. I am obsessed with the phrasing of the chorus. I also LOVE taylors deeper voice its def giving me the same feelings MTR gave me from folklore, that made me CRY and this was very similar. This is another classic taylor song that i could EASILY write like a ten page essay about if someone put a gun to my head. I know that its about a *romantic* relationship, but it feels general enough to be able to relate to anyone who is close to someone with an addiction or struggles with substances. A lot of addicts dont understand the impact of their addiction or their behaviors that they display while struggling. To meeeeee, this feels very much like “you were self centered and betrayed my trust, was any of this true? Real? Am i paranoid or is this that deep?” “it wasnt sexy once it wasnt forbidden” has me thinking lots of things. I think that describes taylors “type”if that makes sense? Like i said i would need to literally break this song down line by line like its ridiculous i have too many thoughts about this song i have listened to it on repeat six times by the time im typing this. “In public showed me off/ then sank in stoned oblivion” FUCK. “you treat her like an also-ran” honestly i have never heard of that phrase/word thank u dr. swift. “Were you sent by someone who wanted me DEAD/ did you sleep with a GUN underneath OUR BED/ were you writing a BOOK?/ were you a sleeper cell SPY? IN 5O YEARS WILL THIS BE ALL DECLASSIFIED?/ AND YOU’LL CONFESS WHY YOU DID IT!/ AND ILL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” tears were formed besties. Also love the gracie abrams reference. “And you deserve prison but you wont get time” i feel like is very metaphorical like you DESERVE to be punished for what you did to me but you won’t admit to the guilt, you wont admit your wrongdoings, you wont admit that i would have done anything for you and you have no problem replacing me. “You said normal girls were boring/ but you were gone by the morning” first of all red flag girlie, nonetheless heartbreaking. “And in plain sight you hid/ but you are what you did” i say this with all the love in my heart, someone take taylor swift to a really good really private therapist. I could say more but i think i need to move on because i am now on my eighth cyle of listening to this song.

15. The alchemy:

already kinda hate it. “What if i told you im back/ the hospital was a drag/ worst sleep i ever had” do you think taylor swift has ever been admitted to a real hospital in this context. Feels very out of place and like i said earlier i dont love the psych ward visuals/ references she keeps inserting in this album. “He jokes its heroin but this time with an e” thanks! I fucking hate that line so much. Feels very icky, not funny. I get what shes going for but it falls so flat for me. The football references (yall know my opinion on meathead!!!!!!!! I will not engage!!!) are fucking dumb. Production is kinda lame and uninterested. Will only listen to this song if by force and will not repeat it ive head enough lets move on.

i have Lots Of Thoughts. i don’t think anyone cares about what i have to say though so i don’t think i’ll bother posting the rest lol but i did do a lot of work so ill post just a bit to make myself feel better.

#personal #ts ttpd #ttpd #the tortured poets department

[multifandombullshitbabes]

21

24

27

And

30

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

thank you so much, I shall answer these prompts NEOW

21: Fics you wish you could find more of?

Oooohhh more fics involving Gwen, that's for sure. When she's written right she's one of the strongest, most relatable characters imo, 'cause all she wants is for the world to be right and just and kind and everything wants to prove her wrong, but she won't back down from her views. I would also adore more Elyan, just in general. And complete rewrites of the show 'cause the one I'm reading right now is so good I might do one as well. Also modern au's where they're all like secret badass spies or smth, 'cause those are so fucking cool (i am accepting fic recs for ALL of this, please feed me y'all)

24: Everyone knows that fandom doesn’t like uther but what are your feelings about gaius?

I think 1) we need more concrete info about how he was when he was younger, but 2) i think he is severely complicated and wanted what was best of merlin and morgana, but failed the two while also giving them a ton of love. With morgana, he just didnt want her to pursue her power lest she become uther's next victim, cuz gaius cares for the pendragon siblings like his own. With merlin, he was just trying his best with his overpowered nephew, who alos has a destiny regarding his people's genocide's son, and he just doesn't know what to do half the time, kinda like merlin. I didnt like how he lied to merlin n morgana, how he gaslit her and how he made merlin hide and become so anxious abt his magic (and we see what that looks like season 5), but i get it. I really get it. I dont know what i wouldve done if one wrong move could mean the death of two kids he considers his own. I bet he was scared all the time and hated himself for it.

27: Modern Merlin headcanons, if any?

OH BOY. OHHHH BOY. So many. It really depends on what au i have for modern merlin, but I'll give you a few generals:

he's a teacher of sorts; i like the idea that he's kinda collecting magical anomalies and teaching them how to understand their powers and being, since he knows what its like to be afraid of urself, so he's a personal magic teacher. I also rly like my magic elementary school au, since its merlin teaching magic to a bunch of kids, which is adorable

he has officially one cat, a black one called Midnight, that accidentally became immortal along the way and now hes severally attached. I say officially since hes also friends with any other animal that he might come across and they recognise him if he passes them again. disney princess fr

he's figured out his gender and he can turn into a woman if he wants; she looks exactly like merlin, same height, same weight n muscles, the hair is longer cuz merlin likes it that way and her voice is deep and gorgeous

his favourite weapon is a staff or any long distance fighting weapon of the sort; also he looks cool as fuck fighting with it, but thats just a bonus

I'll stop here but i have SO MANY MORE

30: Side character death that makes you the maddest?

Elyan. There was, quite literally, no need for it. I was gonna say Lancelot, since we did not get enough of him, but his death made sense for his character. Elyan? What the fuck was that? It was just for pain and nothing else. What did it add to the story if not just a sad funeral scene and thats it? It just felt like they wanted him gone n found a way, and that pisses me off. I feel like him saving gwen and living would've given such a complex situation when she turns evil, 'cause what if she "confides" more n more in her brother, creating a rift between arthur n elyan, which then creates a rift between arthur n the knights, which would just isolate him further n make him suffer, which is what morgana wanted!! we couldve had protective brother elyan! I think i just wanted more knights in general.

Thank you so much for this ask, I yapped a fuck ton but it was funn

#merlin #bbc merlin #come get yall headcanons #hey look i posted a thing #merlin prompts #this was so fun

[superabnormal]

ocdnatural is something that is sooooooooooo *brain explodes*

#me talking #i have so many thoughts and feelings about sam and his shame and his want for normalcy but feeling like he’s undeserving. #and lord i shan’t project but GOD having something horrible happen to you as an innocent child and continously trying to do the right #thing in a world where everything is so horribly morally grey only to be consistently told that the problem is YOU. that its not whats #been done to you all these years its not whats come of your mistakes its you as a person that is the very problem. jesus christ. #like i love dean ofc i do he’s been my character of all time since i was a pre-teen but the way he just doesn’t GET sam and almost #always does the wrong thing for him is just ARGGHHH. like i know many of the worst things dean says to sam is also hallucinations or #fake voicemails but the terribledean that keeps assuring sam in his selfhatred fills me with the most intense agony its like unbearable. #sam is incredibly well-adjusted despite everything thats happened to him and its so aweworthy. i wish i could reach into the screen and #tell him….. #alas im projecting. sam you are not evil you are not bad you are not complicit or deserving of this. #god💔

[pepprs]

i guess im starting a tradition of double ventposting lol but the last thing i’llsay (maybe) is like… all of that has a caveat which is that my emotional object permanence has been absolutely OBLITERATED by 3 yrs of covid hell and it is really doing a number on me. clearly

#purrs #this manifests in how not normal i am abt reading / responding to messages btw ♥️ i love depriving myself of evidence that i am loved #also somewhat ​relatedly (and i may have already said this but): covid also destroyed something that has always already been hard for me whi #which (ironically given how important it is to the work I do) foresight. i was not su*cidal growing up but i simply couldn’t imagine what li #life would be like after high school. it felt like the show was supposed to be over on graduation day. and everything that’s happened since #then has seemed a little fake to me… and then covid happened and it felt even more fake… and now i graduated college and WORK THERE full #time. and it’s like.. at any given moment i am about 30-40% convinced that the things that are happening to me aren’t actually real or that #they’re not supposed to be happening bc the show ended on may 30 2017. and i don’t think that’s a healthy way to experience the world lol #unreality tw #ask to tag #like ofc my day to day life is real and the week to week stuff is real. but there’s some twilight zone-ness to it. like its happening to #someone else who looks exactly like me butim in her body and not mine and not controlling anything. idk. that’s not the right metaphor its h #hard to explain and im so sleepy. but the best way i can describe it which i keep doing is like a tv show that should be over by now but is #dragging on fro some reason. like we never finished watching it but it’s like the office continuing after michael Scott left. it’s just #weird and wrong and fake and doesn’t feel real. and the fact that it actually is real but i feel that way is a very big problem

[ectoplasmer]

squinting really hard at that egogender label again

#i am so indecisive #like being referred to femininely is okay!! i think #some phrases feel. weird and unfitted though #and sometimes they only feel right in certain contexts #and she/her pronouns still feel fine. i don’t really see myself 100% identifying with any others aside from those #but. i guess it’s specifically the idea of being a girl that has me confused #and maybe it’s because of how i feel now. femininity doesn’t come as naturally as i would want it to #i feel like i don’t fit in with what is defined by society as a ‘girl’ #but every time i think that i can only think about how that sounds so inherently misogynistic of me to think lol #like there isn’t any defined label to what being a girl is. #i could still be a girl and still do everything else. i shouldn’t be with held from that just because of how the majority view that #but i guess it’s just. i don’t know. i don’t think it’s all that important to me #i just want people to see me as *me*. i don’t think my gender really plays all that much of a role in how I perceive myself or how i want- #-people to perceive me. i’m just rainy and i think that’s what is important #but again identifying femininely doesn’t feel inherently wrong. its confusing i don’t know how to explain it #i struggle to explain things that aren’t like. solid or have actual things i can recall back to lol #anyway. i have been thinking about the demigirl label too and i think it’d be funny if i started using that #collecting all the demi- labels this year apparently #i keep saying i’ll figure it out but i had this exact conversation with a friend almost a year ago #i don’t know. identity is confusing. i’ll get there eventually though #rainy.file

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

#vent incoming this is your fair warning #read no further if you don’t wanna deal with all that #i’m soooooooooo so so so sososososo tired. it’s not even funny #and i can’t focus on anything and it’s a really bad time for that because i have finals to do 😐👍🏼 #so i’m spiraling into my ✨finals depressive episode✨ which doesn’t just stop with anxiety about finals. oh no no no. #i also think that maybe everyone should hate me because i can’t do anything right i can’t even focus on the one thing i have to focus on #and also likeeee what’s the point of any of this (life) #i also am currently convincing myself i bother everyone and need to stop talking so much #which like. evil brain. not true not true not true. #i know people love me i’m just feeling like i’m doing everything wrong and maybe i’m too much #and it’s hard to push past that #especially when it comes to feeling like i’m being too much of. well. me. #i’m just very stressed and overwhelmed and it’s making me depressed and feeding my depression’s anxiety #the depression has its own anxiety separate from the tiana’s anxiety #i need a hug. and for everything to be done #there’s wayyyy too many essays i have to write #so i’m shutting down and doing none because i can’t focus #i literally zone out for most of the day and then it’s like oh. #anyway sorry needed 2 vent

[and-this-of-all-my-hopes]

So, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I keep seeing metas about how Aziraphale wants Crowley to return to Heaven and be an angel again because he wants them to be on the same side/be good/change/etc., etc., etc. but I don’t see that at all. I actually see it as the very opposite.

Aziraphale loves Crowley just as he is. But there’s something more. Something huge.

Aziraphale loves Crowley and because he is an angel who is stuck in seeing things as black and white, he constantly praises Crowley for being nice. For being good. For being kind.

Aziraphale has watched Crowley on and off for 6,000 years. He watched him thwart the plans of Heaven and Hell because it was unjust. He spared the lives of innocents. He did small things that made Aziraphale happy just because (like making Hamlet successful and saving valuable books). And because Aziraphale sees things in black and white, he sees all the things Crowley has done as nice, as good, as kind.

Crowley vehemently attests he’s not nice or good or kind.

He’s not exactly wrong nor is he lying when he says this. When Crowley spares goats during a cruel bet over a righteous man and swallowing laudanum to prevent a suicide, when he prevents Armageddon by working with Aziraphale and stopping the Anti-Christ from being the Anti-Christ, he’s not doing the nice/good/kind thing.

He’s doing the right thing.

Crowley chooses to do the right thing without hesitation. He is better than all of Heaven and Hell who have callous and dispassionate view of all existence because he questions, because he makes choices. Crowley sees the world for all its messiness and he sees himself. He sees a place where he fits in. He sees the blurred edges.

And Aziraphale sees that, even if seeing the blurred edges is hard for him.

But here’s the thing that Aziraphale can’t voice.

It’s the reason why he told Crowley about being allowed to return to Heaven and become an angel again. He doesn’t want Crowley to change. He doesn’t think Crowley is flawed. Or not enough.

It’s something that is so monumental that it cannot be put into words. Because to put it into words would be more than blasphemy. It’s down right unthinkable for anyone in Heaven, Hell, or Earth to say what Aziraphale knows deep in his soul.

God was wrong to cast out Crowley.

Aziraphale believes Crowley can/should return to Heaven because he knows that Crowley should never have fallen in the first place. He wants him to be forgiven because when Crowley fell it was unjust. Aziraphale is trying to correct a mistake. He’s trying to do the right thing.

Yes, Crowley would never accept returning to Heaven. And Aziraphale was wrong to even suggest it (although that conversation is another can of worms to unpack).

Aziraphale loves Crowley. He loves him exactly as he is. He doesn’t want him to change. Aziraphale knows that Crowley the best of all of them. He wants to change Heaven because of it. Because God was wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale may have difficulty seeing beyond black and white, but when it comes to Crowley he sees everything crystal clear and in vivid color.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #hold on to your butts #because here be outright blasphemy #aziraphale #crowley #neil gaiman #warning this post has been known to cause psychic damage #and in one instance a proposal of marriage #neil liked this post #whaaaaaaaaaaat #good omens spoilers #michael sheen #david tennant #ineffable husbands #tell me I’m wrong

[books-and-omens]

Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.

Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 

As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.

And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.

Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.

And just—

Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.

But the ball is still different.

We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)

I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?

In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).

And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 

In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.

There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.

GOD the ball is so dark.

#good omens 2 #good omens

[fangswbenefits]

Ao3 . Ko-fi

ASTARION

⤷ Book - Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.

⤷ The Arrangement (on-going series): masterlist

⤷ Lockpicking - You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.

⤷ Pointy Ears - You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…

⤷ Curiosity - Astarion wishes to satisfy his curiosity when it comes to breastfeeding... and comes up with a proposition that is mutually beneficial.

⤷ Oral Fixation - Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.

⤷ Unexpected - Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

⤷ Breathe - Astarion is more than eager to show you the perks of not breathing.

⤷ Questions - Your curiosity drives you to ask Astarion a very unexpected question, and he's more than happy to give you a proper reply.

⤷ Patience - You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.

⤷ Backfire - You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.

⤷ Reading Session - Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process. 

⤷Trance - Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.

⤷ Fever - You're running a fever, and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

⤷ Everything - You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.

⤷ Comfortable - Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…

(LINKS ARE CURRENTLY NOT WORKING - I'LL FIX THEM SOON 🙏)

MIGUEL O'HARA

✫ 18+:

⤷ Tension - Miguel walks in on you late at night doing something unexpected, which makes things really awkward afterwards…

⤷ For Science - There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?

⤷ Intimacy - Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

⤷ Perfect Morning - Miguel’s definition of a perfect morning involves a comfortable bed and being buried deep inside you.

⤷ Comfort - Miguel has been having nightmares as of late and seeks a level of comfort only you can provide.

⤷ Breakfast in Bed - Miguel wakes you up to breakfast in bed.

⤷ Stress Relief - Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.

⤷ Sharing is Caring (I) - (II) - A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?

⤷ [COMPLETE] (0) Sweet Girl , (1) Frustration , (2) Suit Up , (3) Obsession , (4) Consequences , (5) Discovery , (6) Double-edged Sword , (7) Confession , (8) Devotion - Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…

⤷ Second Intentions - You’ve been tense lately, and Miguel offers a massage. Quite thoughtful of him… except you know exactly why.

⤷ Tracking - You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.

⤷ Gentle - Miguel shows you how gentle he can be during your pregnancy and how worthy you are of it.

⤷ Backfire - The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.

⤷ Side Effect - Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.

⤷ Stubborn - As far as you’re concerned, you just want to stay in bed all day, admiring Miguel’s glorious chest.

✫ Fluff/Comedy/Comfort/Hurt/Angst/Misc:

⤷ Memories - You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.

⤷ Revelations - Miguel asks you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.

⤷ Solution - Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.

⤷ Tiny Spider - Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.

⤷ Another Chance - You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.

⤷ Broken - You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.

⤷ Family - Miguel is a natural when it comes to being a father.

⤷ A Series of Firsts - You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

⤷ Appreciation - Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…

#astarion #miguel o'hara

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself

fem reader

Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 

You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 

You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.

He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…

Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 

This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.

You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.

But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?

No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 

Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.

You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.

“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.

Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.

“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”

It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.

“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.

He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 

“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 

He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…

Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 

“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”

You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.

His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.

“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 

He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 

“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 

Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 

Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 

Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.

Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”

Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.

“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”

You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 

It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 

You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.

“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 

When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.

“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.

He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”

He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.

You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 

But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.

“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 

He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.

“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”

That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.

Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.

“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.

Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 

A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.

“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 

But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 

“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 

Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.

“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.

None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…

The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.

“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.

Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.

Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.

“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 

His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.

“Feels good.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk mahito #mahito smut #mahito #yandere mahito #mahito x reader #mahito jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen mahito #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk headers