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blackholelynn · 1 year

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His Salvation - Part Seven

<- Read Part Six

Summary: You have left your old life behind and started over with Dean, but you soon realize that you know almost nothing about the hunter you now live with.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, aftermath of grief/loss, description of suffocation, swearing - these warnings are for the series of parts as a whole, so while some of these warnings may not apply on this part, they will apply for future parts.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: It's finally finished! I'm not going to pretend that I have any excuse for not posting the final part of this, but it's done! Not exactly a happy ending, but who knows?

Series Tag List: @leigh70

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tag List: @siospins2

Supernatural Tag List: @hobby27

Also cross-posted on my AO3 account, you can read it here!

~~~

Dean woke up with his entire body screaming in pain, which wasn't unfamiliar to him. What did surprise him was the white and slightly scratchy hospital linens clinging to him. In his haze, he felt the irritation of the IV in his left arm and moved to promptly remove it, not thinking of the aftermath.

A gentle hand rested over his, one he recognized and trusted, and immediately he stopped what he was doing. "You need to leave that in. You lost a lot of blood."

"You're still here," Dean said, more to himself than to you. His jaw was slack in awe, and the relief was making his eyes glassy.

You squirmed under his gaze, ducking your head to avoid it. "I wasn't going to dump you at a hospital without making sure you were okay. Not when it was my fault you got hurt."

"Sweetheart, you're why Sammy isn't preparing a hunter's funeral for me." His hand reached for you, and you didn't shy away from his touch for the first time in a while. You weren't sure who needed it more – you or him. He cupped your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "You did good."

You leaned into his touch, feeling a few errant tears escape. "No. I didn't. I froze, and you nearly died because of it.”

“But I didn’t.”

Even though he was right, Dean’s words didn’t soothe the guilt that was starting to fester deep inside you. Would any of this have even happened if you hadn’t left the bunker? If you hadn’t gone with them in the first place? The thought of the alternatives terrified you more than anything, and you stood up from the chair by Dean’s bedside, pacing to release some of the anxiety.

“But you might next time. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Dean insisted earnestly. He sat up in bed, grimacing with the effort, and looked at you imploringly. “Look, you were right. I shouldn’t have been treating you like a kid. We can start going on hunts together, and Sammy and I will show you the ropes. Trust me–”

Tears started to stream down your cheeks as you crossed your arms, shrinking in on yourself. “Dean, I don’t even know what I want anymore! I mean, I ran off with you without a second thought, like I was some…some Disney princess! Like you were my prince charming that would make all the pain disappear, but that’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works, and I can’t stay.”

“What are you saying?” His voice broke, a vulnerability that was rare for him to show. It broke your heart, but you knew what you needed.

“I’m saying I stayed to make sure you were okay, but I’m leaving. I have no idea who the hell I am anymore, and until I figure that out, this isn’t going to work.”

And then you turned and left the room in a rush. He called out something after you, but all of your senses were completely wrecked as you scurried away from yet another problem. A contentious voice inside you scolded you for not being able to have a conversation – the adult conversation that needed to be had – but it wasn’t something you were capable of at that moment. You felt like you were crawling out of your skin.

Sam was pensively sitting in the hallway, and when he saw you leave the room, he quickly stood in your way to try and talk to you. “He’s awake?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply, trying to go around him.

But he stopped you by gingerly grabbing your arm. “Woah, what’s going on? Did something happen in there?”

“I just…” Your brain stuttered, trying to find the words to explain what had just happened, but it couldn’t put anything together. The only thing you could do was look up at Sam in sad confusion, starting to cry even harder. You desperately wiped at the tears running down your cheeks in an attempt to stay somewhat composed, but it was an exercise in futility.

“Okay, let’s just take a moment,” Sam offered, guiding you to one of the chairs in the hallway. He sat beside you and attempted to comfort you as you cried, one hand on your back to try and ground you. Once it seemed like you’d be able to speak again, he asked, “Is everything okay?”

You quickly nodded as you pulled yourself back together again. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I have a favor that I need to ask you, though, Sam.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Take care of Dean for me?” When you saw the confused expression on Sam’s face, you added, “I’m not going back to the bunker.”

Sam stilled for a second, processed what you said, and offered a small and understanding smile. “Okay. Do you mind if I ask you one question first?”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not asking this to try and convince you to stay. I just want to know: are you sure?”

It was the first time someone had asked you that question, and it hadn’t been accusatory. Just a genuine question coming from a place of concern. So you thought about it.

The last few months you had spent with Dean crossed your mind. All the good memories came first, like the movies you had watched, the nights you had shared, and the few times you had left the bunker to have “proper” dates. But those times weren’t the only ones. The nights you had shared were soured by the constant nightmares. All the times you spent with him in the bunker were plagued by the grief that followed you like a dark shadow. You remembered those few dates fondly, but you also recognized the terror of being outside those concrete walls.

You returned Sam’s smile, although yours was more forced. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got a lot to work through, and I need to do it on my own. I don’t know how yet or what I’m going to do, but I know that’s where my focus needs to be.”

“Alright,” Sam conceded, standing up from the chair. “Then I’m guessing this is goodbye?”

“Yeah,” you answered as you stood. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys again, though, so don’t forget about me.”

Sam chuckled at your teasing tone and pulled you into a small hug. “Never. You’re welcome anytime.”

It was a warm moment that broke up some of the despair of the most recent events, but as always, those moments come to an end. You returned the hug briefly and, after that, left the hospital. You didn’t turn back, tried not to even think about turning back, because you knew that your resolve wasn’t strong enough to go through with it if you didn’t go all in.

Sam stayed in the hospital and entered Dean’s hospital room to evaluate the aftermath. He only found his older brother staring off into space, looking lost. It was clear that the loss Dean had been so afraid of had just occurred, and to make matters worse, he was part of the reason it had happened.

The younger Winchester took your place at Dean’s bedside, clearing his throat to get his older brother’s attention. “She just told me.”

“She’s gone.” It was a resigned statement, not a question. Dean finally came out of his stupor as he met Sam’s eyes. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No, she didn’t. I don’t think she wants us to know, and you know what, I think that’s for the best. You’ve gotta let her go.”

Normally Sam would expect a fight from Dean after he said that, a barbed remark meant to make Sam back down, but all he got was Dean limply lying back in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was resigned more than anything, and that was almost worse. There was no further discussion of the issue. Not when he was discharged from the hospital, not when they arrived back at the bunker. The remnants of your stay in the bunker lingered for a long time, only serving as a reminder of the forbidden topic.

“I told you to make sure she wasn’t in the room when Urdr got there,” Naomi chastised, standing up from her desk chair.

Castiel stood in front of her desk, but it was clear that he was somewhere else – practically a shell of his former self. “I was unaware that she would be there so quickly.”

“That is unacceptable!” Naomi snapped. When she realized how emotional she was becoming, she straightened her blazer and rolled back her shoulders, letting out a deep exhale. “This was the only way we could get the Norns on our side, and after making a deal with us, we got one of their sisters killed. You can see how this is an issue, correct?”

“Yes.” Castiel’s response was robotic. He had been conditioned in every way to obey Naomi, and she couldn’t have been happier with her handiwork. A grisly means to an end.

Naomi sat back down and smoothed her hands over the clear top of her desk. “Then I will have to think of alternative methods to secure our position. I just have one thing to say before I dismiss you.”

“Of course.”

“Keep an eye on our ‘bait’ to make sure she doesn’t ruin another one of our plans. I’d hate to have you dispose of her.”

Castiel’s brow twitched. It went unnoticed by Naomi, but surely if she had seen it, he would’ve been kept for more conditioning. Instead, once she saw him nod his head, he was whisked back to Earth with no memory of the encounter in the first place.

Without knowing why he was drawn to go look for you, and when he found you, he only felt his guilt return. You were curled up in the back seat of yet another stolen car, holding a flannel to your chest as you cried. Yet again, another of his friends was in anguish, and while he wanted to comfort you, something told him he shouldn’t.

So he did nothing but watch as you processed all of the feelings you had been running from. And it hurt.

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fantasylover300 · 2 years

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Through the window of my attic

Part One

Landon

The wind rushes past my hair as the moon lights up the whole sky like a lamp in the overwhelming darkness of my attic. It's at this time when the world was fast asleep that the real fun would begin.

The window of my attic is always open, except for when the dragonflies used to come in uninvited. That is always annoying. But today, the window of the attic is open, letting the milk-white light spill in, making this wretched attic at least a little beautiful.

My heart begins to stutter a little bit as a shadow runs past. I laugh, "Don't do that! You know that scares me!" A boy with messy black hair comes in with a toothy grin.

"Exactly!" He chuckles, "That's the whole part! Ah," he sighs as he stops laughing, "my stomach hurts now."

"I kept telling you not to steal your stepmother's chocolate cake," I chide as he rolls his eyes, "It's not like she deserves them anyway." he pouts.

"You're hopeless, August," I let out a breathy laugh as I ruffle his soft hair. He laughs nervously, his cheeks and ears turning a bright red.

He looks very pretty like this. Maybe a little too pretty.

Clearing his throat, he gazes at the locket around my neck. His cinnamon brown eyes widen seem to glow in the dark as he asks, "You- where did you get that from?"

"Oh? This?" I fiddle with the locket, hiding it from his view as I clutch it with a grip of iron, "Just something I bought with my pocket money."

"Hey Landon," he says excitedly and curiously, "It's a locket right? Can you open it? I'm pretty sure there's supposed to be some sort of picture, right? Is there one?"

"Huh?" I ask dumbly, my face heating up, "No, no, no image inside, no image inside at all!" I answer desperately, my palms becoming sweaty and my throat becoming dry. Stupid Landon. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Oh come on," August flashes a grin, "I know you're lying," he teases. He leans in close, maybe a little too close, "You're doing that thing you always do."

"Yeah?" I ask with confidence I did not have, "What is it?"

"Yeah. You know that thing when you nervously bite your lip and clench your fists."

I do that?

"Anyways, enough chitchat, show me!!" he whines, placing his hands on mine, the heat radiating off of them.

"A-And I already told you!" I yelp, "There's nothing inside the damn locket!"

"Landon?" A voice from below rings throughout the house, "Where are you? Who are you talking to?"

"Shit! I'll go now, bye!" August says hurriedly, before and leaves through the window, falling once he steps out.

"Are you okay?!" I jump up and look outside, scanning my surroundings, looking for my idiot with black hair and brown eyes.

"Yeah!" he yells, "Bye!"

"Landon, why are you here?" Mom comes in and asks tiredly, her eyes drooping and her eye bags prominent, "Go back to bed."

"Okay," I reluctantly comply.

Walking down the stairs to my room, I heave a sigh of relief. Thank god he didn't find out. Closing the door, I open my locket and crawl into bed, gazing lovingly at the photo before me.

I always knew August looked good, but mainly in silly moments like these, with cake on his nose and a bewildered expression on his face. My face flushes with embarrassment and my heart wilts a little bit at the thought of him ever seeing me like this.

Vulnerable.

Alone.

Gazing at a photo of him like he's the last thing on this planet.

What can I say? I suppose this is what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.

A/N: This is shit. I am aware. Hey guys! Author here, sorry for not posting. I am a procrastinator and also I am very, very lazy. My bad. Anyway, I decided to make this because I felt bad for making that one hurt/no comfort story my first story here. I hope you enjoyed!

#romance story #short story #writing #creative writing #best friends to lovers #multipart #multipart story #you have no idea how long i had this in my fucking notebook

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pyro-les · 2 months

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I have a pretty cool idea for a Regina x reader story and I really wanna write it but I've also never written a fanfic before so idk.

Would anyone take the gamble and read it if I wrote it?

#i kinda just wanna info dump all my ideas without writing it properly #ive got a tone of stuff in my notes on my phone and way more in my head #like enough for a full multipart story #but ive never written a fic before so idk #would anyone wanna read my potentially bad potentially brilliant story?#regina george x reader

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mirrorbird · 5 months

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#neopets #where my online millennials at #i use the css and html i learned TO THIS DAY #neopets nostalgia #neopians #i was also email penpals with an older british girl who wrote a multipart story in the neopian times that i loved for like 5 years #chrissy with the lime green hair and the pennangalan boots #wherever you are #i hope youre doing well #im still writing and also im fully goth now #which im realizing at this moment is probably thanks to you #tumblr polls

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acourtofpenandpaper · 3 months

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Just pretending (Astarion x reader)

Pairing: Astarion x GNreader/Tav Length: 800 words Part 2 coming soon

Blurb: When Astarion and Tav get followed by guards of a warehouse they wanted to steal from, Astarion comes up with an unusual way to get them off the back.

Tags: part 1 of a fluffy short, a bit heated moment

The guards weren’t far behind us, and we both quickened our steps. Earlier that day, when I had voiced my concerns on sneaking into the warehouse to steal some supplies and cool gear, Astarion had simply shrugged me off.

“Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, we have pulled off greater heists in the past”, he had boasted while dismissing my worries as mere pessimistic thoughts.

Now, as I caught a glimpse to my side, I could see the sweat glistening on the forehead of the pale vampire as we rushed through the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

Turned out, that said warehouse which, according to Astarion ‘wasn’t guarded heavily’, was indeed heavily guarded. And the plan that Astarion had come up with turned out to have no solution for when we got caught. I reminded myself to never let him plan anything ever again when we both got out of this situation.

I looked behind my back to see two guards running after us, catching up with every second. The only reason they hadn’t caught us yet was because of other civilians standing in their way. But any minute now, we wouldn’t be so lucky anymore. I was starting to feel exhaustion coming in and tried to use the little breath in my lungs to shout towards Astarion:

“What are we going to do? They are still after us!”

Astarion looked behind his back as well and almost ran over the cart of a street vendor but in the last moment, jumped out of the way. He stayed silent, to my dismay because we both needed to get out of this situation and better two minutes ago than later.

I was almost ready to surrender myself to our followers and give over the gear when Astarion’s eyes lit up, he got ahold of my wrist and pulled me into the next alleyway. We took two sharp turns to the right and from the signs around us, I recognized the tavern, we semi-regularly frequented with our friends.

Two steps in front of me, Astarion slowly came to a halt, panting, his chest rising and falling. I almost ran into him because I wasn’t expecting to stop so suddenly, so I caught my breath and asked:

“Why are we stopping? They will come around the corner any seco…”

But before I was able to finish my sentence, Astarion had pushed me against the wall of the tavern and stepped so close to me that his whole body hovered over mine. Then he looked me in the eyes and mouthed:

“Play along.”

“Play along with what?”

Then, without giving me time to process my thoughts, he embraced my face with both his hands and came so close that our noses brushed against each other. I could feel his heavy breath against my lips and was sure that he could feel mine, too. But I just stayed like that, his mouth hovering just millimeters over mine and us both watching each other.

“Let your hands roam over my back.” He didn’t say it out loud, but I could hear his thoughts over our connected tadpoles. Without giving it much thought, I moved my hands from my sides to his back and gripped the fabric of his shirt.

Then, he angled his head and brought it up to my neck, as if he would caress it with his mouth or, drink from it from the look of a bystander. All this without his lips ever touching my skin but his breath burned itself onto my neck and I wished he would really touch me.

My eyes were still wide open, and I couldn’t quite believe what was happening. But in the corner of my vision, I could make out two silhouettes which were looking into every street but eventually, ran past the alleyway we were standing in. Now I understood what he meant by playing along. When I was sure that they had run off, I finally murmured:

“Hmmm…Astarion? They are gone…we can stop pretending.”

“Oh, yeah right”, he said and stepped away from me. “Sorry, that must have been surprising, but I had this idea suddenly and just wanted to get them off our heels. Are you alright?”

His eyes scanned me up and down. I nodded and we continued our way to the camp just outside the city.

“I am okay. Thank God you had this idea, I don’t know if I could’ve run anymore.”

“Same here. Maybe we should better scout the areas we want to get into next time”, he suggested, and I burst into a fit of laughing and playfully pushed him against his shoulder.

“That coming from you? Mr. Wing it? I told you we should investigate the guarding system of the warehouse, but you were all like ‘It will be fine”, I said and tried to mimic his voice.

He scrunched up his nose. “I totally don’t sound like that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Not discussing this with you”, he said, and we both continued our way.

And I wondered what his lips would have felt like if he had really kissed me…

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion bg3 #astarion short story #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate #multipart fic #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn reader

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disdaidal · 3 months

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Two days ago, complains that she can't get anything written down, despite having multiple headcanons and fic ideas.

This afternoon (or well, yesterday here) she starts randomly going through different writing prompts on a writing blog and miraculously ends up finding a prompt that fuels the fire and inspires to start writing.

Tells herself firmly: don't stress it, it can be just a short piece, even a drabble. Doesn't need to be longer than that.

The situation right now: has already written 8 pages (3149 words) of making out, eventually leading to smut if the gods are on her side and the stars are aligned just right (fingers crossed).

The bottom line: doesn't know how to write short stuff, still. Rambling on and on seems to be the thing she keeps getting tangled into. But oh well, writing's still sailing smoothly and I intend to finish it (even if it takes me all night, which it just might). But I don't trust my short attention span to last long enough to continue it again tomorrow, so... sacrifices must be made.

#personal #writing #it's not any of the stories or ships that are currently on my ao3 btw #my new obsession has taken over and so has my new ship (or well ships actually but this one in particular has got a chokehold on me now)#and i'm going to turn this into oneshot because i seem incapable of doing multiparts right now #so yeah #this might seriously take me all night but right now i'm fine with it #i'm so sick of having a writer's block. especially with all these ideas breeding inside my head (well that sounded wrong)#so fuck that. i'm finishing this no matter what

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myreia · 8 months

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Bound by Faith

Chapter One: Philia

Chapter Rating: T Pairing: Aureia Malathar (Warrior of Light)/Thancred Waters Characters: Warrior of Light, Thancred Waters, Urianger Augurelt, Ryne, Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Y'shtola Rhul, Cyella Chapter Word Count: 5,377 Story Word Count: 5,377 Story Summary: With their enemies defeated and the First saved, the Crystarium is alive with celebration. Despite the joy around her, Aureia is uncertain about the next steps to take. So is Thancred, for that matter. The puzzle of their lives has sat incomplete for years, but finally this last, precious piece may be able to slide into place. Spoiler Warning: Spoilers for the end of Shadowbringers base. Notes: This chapter does not contain explicit sexual content, but a later chapter will.

🡒 Read on AO3 🡐

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Alisaie says after a moment. “This moment of peace. It doesn’t feel real. It’s something we’ve dreamt of more times than we can count, and now it’s here… I can’t shake this feeling there is something we’ve forgotten. That some imminent crisis is going to raise its ugly head and undo everything we’ve fought so hard to achieve.” “I know,” Aureia replies. “The thought has occurred to me, too. I don’t doubt we will ever be free of one crisis or another.” “And that’s the problem, is it not? I dislike feeling this unsettled. It’s hardly fair after everything we’ve been through. I have this unrelenting need to do something, Aureia, as if taking a moment for myself is never enough. I’m not like Alphinaud. I can’t slip so freely into rest and respite. For all his complaints, I know he prefers the quiet. Not that I wish desperate times on anyone, that’s not what I mean, but there is a restlessness in me that needs to do something. And perhaps it’s easier to placate it with thoughts of what could go wrong in the future, rather than accepting that nothing has in the present.” She lets out a long sigh and shakes her head. “Bah. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to become so introspective, not on a night like this. You certainly don’t need to be weighed down by my useless thoughts.” “They’re not useless, Alisaie. If anything, I share them. When you have achieved that singular goal you spent years pursuing, how do you come to terms with that? I don’t know if there is an answer.”

#emerging from my hiatus to drop the link to first part of the multipart i've been working on since March #story chapters are too big to be posted to tumblr adsfasdf #ffxiv #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fic #ffxiv wol #wolcred #ryne #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur #y'shtola rhul #cyella #aureia malathar #only tagging characters who appear in this chapter #shadowbringers #shadowbringers spoilers #writing tag

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late-to-the-party-99 · 1 year

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Since folks liked my response to the writing prompt dealing with ancient Greek mythology, I’ve decided to indulge an idea of mine: a rewrite of the myth of Aphrodite and Hephaestus’ marriage, as well as its outcome. Enjoy!

——————————— Shattering Ivory Keys, Pt. One

Hephaestus lies awake at night, thinking about the throne holding his mother captive. He thinks about the demand he made of the other gods before leaving: “Unless I receive the hand of Lady Aphrodite in marriage, Lady Hera stays in this chair.” It was a rash thing to say. The whole plan was rash, if he is honest with himself. He isn’t sure if he wants to be honest with himself. Being honest means admitting the other gods would never fulfill his request. Being honest means admitting he made an impossible request on purpose — that he looked at the bruises blooming on his mother’s arms and thought, Good. Hephaestus opens his bedroom door in the morning with bags under his eyes. He leans on his cane, his leg braces creaking beneath him as he shuffles into the hall. It takes a moment for his bleary mind to register someone else is there.

Hermes hovers a foot off the ground in his fluttering sandals. “We accept your offer,” he says.

Hephaestus stumbles into a chariot several minutes later, his pulse a drumbeat in his skull. Hermes has to pull the reins because Hephaestus doesn’t think this is real, doesn’t understand how this happened, doesn’t know how to keep the bile from creeping up his throat—

And then he is there. He is standing in Olympus again, his hammer in his right hand and his cane in his left hand. His swing is steady and sure. The chains around his mother shatter, splintering on the floor in fine metal shards. The chains around Aphrodite latch with a sharp click.

He knows Aphrodite hears the click too. She has to hear it. She has to see Zeus smiling over the proceedings, his teeth jagged keys out of reach in his velvet gums.

The wedding is the very next day. Hephaestus watches Aphrodite walk down the aisle, her long curls of black hair brushing against the marble floors. She is a plump goddess, the soft curve of her stomach draped by a silvery dress that shimmers against her copper skin. Brown eyes flecked with gold peer through her sheer veil.

They never dart his way. He can’t find it in himself to meet them.

Zeus stands at the altar, joining Hera as she proclaims the marriage rites. He claps his hands when it’s all over. Ozone crackles in the air, searing the burnt smell of magic into Hephaestus’ nostrils. “This marriage is now recognized by myself, binding until the end of time.” Hephaestus sprawls on a cot in his forge that night, sweating despite the unlit furnaces. He hopes Aphrodite is comfortable in his bed, unafraid of him insisting on certain rites. There are many more silent days. Hephaestus sees only glimpses of black hair around corners, smelling the faint aroma of roses. He keeps his eyes low. He hesitates, hovering his hand over doorknobs before pulling it away. A bundle of thistles prickle in his chest. Hephaestus sees Aphrodite’s attendants cluster around her wherever she goes. One of them lingers, planting her hands on her hips. She is a lean, muscular woman with warm brown skin. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she says. Her braids of black hair sway as she turns on her heel and strides off, Hephaestus’ words dead and lumped together in his throat. A week after the wedding, he sighs. He snatches a stylus from a cup on his workbench, hunching over a clay tablet. He carves script into its yielding surface. The door to his forge flies open. Hephaestus whips his head around as Aphrodite says, “We need to talk.” She stands in the doorway, her hands balled into fists. Hephaestus swallows hard. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

She opens, then closes her mouth. She blinks at him. He tosses the clay tablet onto his workbench. “It was wrong. All of it. I — I never thought they’d actually accept. I didn’t want them to accept.”

“Oh,” she says after a pause. “You wanted Hera…”

“Yes.” Hephaestus’ grip tightens around his cane. “But I should’ve thought about it. Should’ve realized there’d be a chance they’d say yes. Should’ve thought about you.” He glances away, shifting his weight. “So I’m sorry.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Then, Aphrodite unclenches her hands. “I believe you. I don’t forgive you, but I believe you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“I didn’t. I want to fix this, Lady Aphrodite.” Hephaestus runs his thumb over the iron handle of his cane. “It’s not like my creations, though. Those aren’t given Lord Zeus’ binding seal.”

“They aren’t.”

“So I’ll ask you this instead: what do you need? What can I do — or what shouldn’t I do —for you?”

“You mean, what’s my boundaries?”

He flushes. “Sorry. Could’ve phrased that better.”

“It’s fine.”

Hephaestus knows it’s not fine. It can’t be fine. But he sees her shoulders relax from their tense line, her brow smoothing out. So he can hope for a future where somehow, someday, it will be fine. “Alright,” Aphrodite says. “I don’t want to be touched anywhere. I want to keep sleeping in separate rooms. I want…” She folds her arms. After a beat, she says, “I want to keep seeing people. To keep seeing Ares.”

Hephaestus’ eyebrows shoot up. “Ares?”

“I love him,” she says, lifting her chin. She pulls her shoulders back, uncrossing her legs to widen her stance. “I—”

“No, no. You don’t have to justify yourself,” Hephaestus blurts, waving his hand. “Keep seeing him. Do what you want. It’s not my place to stop you.”

“…you’re sure? You’re my husband.”

“I don’t think either of us wants our relationship to be like that. And I don’t want to control you. I’ve messed with your life more than enough already.”

Aphrodite looks at him, then sighs, slumping a little. “Alright. Alright. That’s good.” She frowns. “You sounded surprised.”

Hephaestus coughs, rubbing his arm. “Ah, well. I guess. I just didn’t think of Ares as — um—”

To his surprise, Aphrodite laughs. It’s light and tinkling, the chiming of tiny bells stirred by the breeze. “I get that a lot.”

“I don’t mean any offense. I’m sorry.”

“None taken. He didn’t think he was that type either. But we both wanted to give it a try.” A faint smile spreads across her face, her gaze going distant. “It was worth it.”

Before Hephaestus can say anything else, a head pokes through the doorway. It’s the attendant who told him off earlier. She glances between them, her brow furrowing. “Is everything alright, Lady Aphrodite?”

Aphrodite shakes herself back to the present. She brushes her hair over her shoulder, still smiling. “Yes, Aglaia. Lord Hephaestus has apologized and promised not to interfere any further in my life.”

“I swear it on the River Styx,” Hephaestus says. Aphrodite and Aglaia both whirl around, startled. Hephaestus himself feels startled. But he said those words out loud. He said them and he doesn’t want to take them back. So he rolls his shoulders, thumping his cane on the floor. “I swear on the River Styx to let Lady Aphrodite live her own life. I swear to do everything in my power to do right by her — to help fix this whole mess until both of us are happy again.”

A long, tense silence ensues. Aphrodite stares at him. Aglaia steps into the forge, her hands fisted in the skirt of her dress. “I had to say it,” Hephaestus says, his voice soft. “I have to make it right.”

Aphrodite walks towards him. “You’ve already started it.” She holds out a hand, turning her full, rounded face up towards his. “And we can do it together.”

Hephaestus looks at her outstretched hand. He looks at her. At her nod, he takes her hand in his. “Alright. Together, then.”

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alovelyburn · 11 months

Text

Fic: When Night Comes Down 2/4

When Night Comes Down 2/4

In which a suspicious mission has ripple effects.

Specifics: GriffithxGuts. Guts is an Apostle, IDK. Canon-typical warnings. A canon-divergent story that diverges so early it's almost pre-canon. 14.4k for this Book, 28k and counting for the story to date.

I think this is actually the longest part, although we’ll see if that holds. Because even though it’s done I do look it over a final time before posting and when I looked this one over I somehow added 2,000 words. So who the hell knows.

Part 3 next Thursday! Happy Pride again!

TO BE CONTINUED!

@berserk-pride-fest / @ofdemonsandangels

#berserkpridefest2023 #griffith x guts #griffith/guts #berserk #griffith #guts #its 3am #that counts as thursday #ive been on ao3 practically since its inception #and i have never learned how to do a multipart story #until now #berserk brain rot idk

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spookcataloger · 11 months

Photo

“Anomaly Continued” by Benefactorx.

See original 14 photos here: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Anomaly

Original archive has bad image links, but you can see the picture posted on: https://archive.4plebs.org/x/thread/23638293/

27: The Torture of Tilly Jane

28: The Watchers at the Window

29: The Winged Thing

30: What Killed Jane Doe?

#/x/ 4chan #prosetext #discussion thread #Anomaly Creepypasta #ghost stories #multipart story #story with pictures #paranormal #horror anthology #weird tales #story with proof #cryptids #creepypasta #classic post #spooky #creepy #LSoA

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blackholelynn · 1 year

Text

His Salvation - Part Five

<- Read Part Four

Summary: You have left your old life behind and started over with Dean, but you soon realize that you know almost nothing about the hunter you now live with.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Hello!! It's been a while! I'm just going to plop this here and slink away because I have no excuses. This is literally done and has been for months, SO SORRY!!! Life just be like that sometimes, so I will see you all on the next update (whenever my dysfunctional brain allows me).

Series Tag List: @leigh70

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tag List: @siospins2

Supernatural Tag List: @hobby27

Also cross-posted on my AO3 account, you can read it here!

~~~

"Damn it!" Dean cursed, swiping at the spell set up on the war room table. The components went clattering across the floor, scattering across the concrete. The older Winchester stepped away from the table and continued to seeth towards the wall, but the damage was already done.

Sam stooped his tall frame over to gather the debris, not surprised by the outcome. "We've tried every location spell we can think of, and she hasn't come up yet. Dean--"

"She's not dead." Dean's voice cracked as he tacked on, "She can't be."

"That wasn't what I was suggesting. Some of these spells locate a person even if they are dead, so that's not the issue here."

"Then what do you think it is?"

Sam sighed as he emptied his hands of the failed spell and sat down in one of the chairs while crossing his arms. "The only thing I can think of that would hide her this well is an angel brand."

"You're thinking Cas?" Dean's disbelief was unmistakable. Considering the last time he had seen you two together, you clearly had not gotten along, so it was a stretch to think that the two of you would be helping each other. “There’s no way. Those two were practically at each other’s throats when they met.”

“I’m not saying anything for sure, but if it’s not Cas, then another angel is helping her.”

The thought of another angel being around you shot Dean into action, and without another thought, he pulled out his phone and started dialing. Ignoring Sam’s querent expression, Dean listened to the dial tone with his breath caught in his throat. This was his last resort, the very last thing he could think of.

The voice on the other end of the phone had its usual exhausted quality. “What do you want?”

“Kevin, we need your help with something. I need you to figure out if there are any ways to get past angel branding.”

“Dean, I’m not your little bitch. I’m still in the middle of translating the Demon Tablet for the last trial, so–”

“I don’t care what the hell you’re doing. Whatever you’re doing, drop it. This is more important,” Dean snapped, immediately regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

Before he could even voice an apology, Kevin retaliated, “Oh, more important than shutting the gates of hell forever? More important than me getting my life back? Please, enlighten me on what’s so important.”

His similar wording only brought the memory of your argument back again, worsening the guilt he was already feeling. “We need to find someone.”

“You better be looking for God if it’s that important.” After a silence, Kevin asked, “Is that who you’re looking for?”

Dean groaned and ran a hand down his face before slamming that hand on the table in a fist. “I don’t have time to debate this with you! I just need to know if there’s anything in the Demon Tablet that can get past the angel branding for a location spell!”

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up, wrenching the phone from his brother’s hand. Sam took the conversation to another room, and all Dean could hear was the hushed, apologetic tone his brother held as he continued talking to Kevin. This left Dean alone in the room to pace and feel like he was crawling out of his skin.

He never thought he would be comfortable bringing someone into his life, especially after what happened to Lisa and Ben, but you had broken down every wall he had thought he built up so well. Now that you were so close, it was hard for him to cope with you being apart.

Abruptly, Sam entered the room again and loudly set the phone on the table, giving Dean a chastising glare. “I smoothed things over.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked defensively.

“You were being a dick,” Sam responded simply. Before Dean could even formulate his retort, Sam laid down a notepad on the table with a loud slap. It has a list of ingredients scribbled hastily down the piece of paper. "But Kevin came through for us. You sure you want to do this?"

Dean snatched up the notebook, eagerly reading the list of ingredients despite his unfamiliarity with spells. "Of course. Do we have all this stuff?"

Sam nodded. "I just checked, and yep. Pantry's fully stocked."

"Then let's get this show on the road!"

Dean was out of his seat before the other Winchester could even process what was said, but Sam quickly trailed after him to the library. The two were silent with concentration as they gathered the spell's components. It required some particularly rare ingredients, but thankfully the Men of Letters were a group that was seldom caught unprepared; their stock of materials was extensive.

Dean stood pensively at the side of the room as he watched Sam stir together the ingredients above the map they had spread on the table. The mixture in the container was brown and had the consistency of sludge. After what seemed like forever, Sam stopped stirring the components and swiftly turned the container upside down above the paper map.

When the concoction plopped unceremoniously onto the paper with no reaction, Dean surged forward. "Is that it?"

"I…I don't know?" When Sam caught Dean's disapproving glare, he continued defensively. "Kevin just gave me the instructions! He didn't tell me how it would work!"

"Are you kidding me, Sammy? You didn't think to ask how we would know if it worked? So now we don't know if the spell was a bust because she's warded too much or because you mixed up a tablespoon with a teaspoon!"

"I didn't mess up the spell!"

"Considering it looks like a sewer vomited on our map, I'd say you messed up the spell."

"No, I followed Kevin's instructions to a T."

"We'll, thank God we called Kevin!" Dean sarcastically huffed, throwing his hands up and turning away. "How could we go without making whatever the hell that is?!"

"Dean?"

The older Winchester was nowhere near done with his tirade. "You know, we make sure that kid is safe and that Crowley's goons don't get to him, and what's our reward?"

"Dean."

"Oh, right. A pile of brown ooze when we asked for a location spell. Because why would we ever need an actual spell? Might as well just give us the recipe for fake dog shi–"

"Dean!" Sam interrupted, and when his brother turned around, Sam pointed at the map. The thick concoction had spread itself out on the map leaving only a tiny area completely untouched. "Looks like it worked."

For the first time in days, Dean grinned and clapped his hands together, calling out as he left the room, "Pack your bags, Sammy! And make sure to remind me to buy Kevin a steak dinner or something!"

Sam looked down at the pristine spot on the map, a current of unease washing through him. What happened that hid you from their other spells, and if you were that thorough, should they really still be looking? Before Sam could think about it anymore, he took a mental note of the location and crumpled up the map.

It swished into the garbage can as he passed, going to pack his bag as instructed so they could head back out onto the road.

Once again, you were sitting in a library in front of a computer for far too long. Because of Castiel's absolute inability to use a computer, that job fell to you while he combed the bookshelves. You could see him from where you sat, and he was sitting at one of the tables surrounded by stacks of books. His brow was knit in intense concentration.

Focus.

Your brain chastised you for the millionth time since you had begun your Google journey to get back on track. Your focus was nearly non-existent, quickly getting lost in your tumultuous thoughts. It was taking every excuse to avoid the task you needed to be doing.

You wrenched your eyes to the computer screen and continued scrolling through the search results. You were sure you'd know the ins and outs of how to best use a search engine by the time all was said and done. You barely got through another page of blue links before your mind wandered again.

This time it was as though your brain was torturing you as one wrong gust of AC caused the smell of Dean to be noticeable from the flannel you wore. It was only a moment, so short of a time that you weren't even sure if you really had smelled it or if you were just remembering, but the smell launched you into a memory.

Shortly after you had started living with the Winchesters in the bunker, you had decided to make dinner for them both as a surprise. It wasn't special, considering that they never kept any actual groceries in stock, but it was something. You vividly remembered how Dean looked at you like you were his whole world at that moment. It was exhilarating, wonderful, and…terrifying. That wasn't something you remembered feeling in the moment, but looking back, it scared you to be so important to someone so soon into the relationship.

"Hello?" Castiel's gruff voice snapped you back to reality, and you saw a weathered book open on your keyboard. When he saw how dazed you were, you could see a note of concern cross his face. "Are you alright?"

You nodded profusely, turning all of your attention to the book as a means of deflection. "Yeah, all good. What did you find?"

Castiel paused as he continued surveying you, not entirely convinced. However, you ignored the angel's worries and continued skimming over the book. It was open to a Nordic poem, and after reading a few lines, you caught a word you knew – draugr.

You grimaced in disgust. "Ew. Please tell me this isn't the monster we're dealing with."

"You've had previous encounters with them? I thought this was your first time hunting alone?"

"They're not obscure! They're in an Elder Scrolls game, so yeah, I know what they are." You closed the book and handed it back to Castiel before typing 'draugr' into the search bar. You pointed to one of the pictures that depicted the game model of a rotting corpse with glowing blue eyes. "That thing. They kind of suck to deal with at really low levels."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and peered closer at the screen before shaking his head. "I believe we're looking for something more closely resembling myth."

"Well, obviously. I wasn't suggesting this thing was strutting around town unnoticed." You thumbed at the picture on the monitor before switching to the web page results, scrolling through the different links. "It is definitely going to make finding info hard, though."

"In this passage I found, it describes the draugr taking the shape of a cat, and while the victim was sleeping, the cat sat on the man's chest and suffocated him. That would be consistent with the injuries we saw on the bodies."

His tone made you look around the library nervously, and when you were satisfied that you hadn't drawn suspicion, you chided Castiel, "You can't say things like that so loud. We're in public."

"Regardless, I think a machete is our best option."

"Okay, number one: what did I just say!" You shut off your computer and stood, leading the oblivious man away from people and out of the library. The fact that you hadn't checked out the book in his hand escaped you in your haste. "And number two: how is a machete going to help?"

Castiel shrugged you off him now that you were both on the sidewalk and opened the book back up, pointing to an excerpt of text. "It says here that the draugr was slain when a warrior cut off its head while it was preying on its victim. A machete is typically the best weapon for decapitation."

"Oh. Wonderful." Your sarcasm flew over Castiel's head, but you didn't linger on that sentiment long. "I guess that means we've gotta find ourselves a cat."

"Why?"

"You said it yourself, angel boy. It found all its victims by being a cat, so we shouldn't be any different. We find it, take it home, I go to sleep while you pretend to leave, and then you give it a particularly close haircut before it can off me." You were already striding down the sidewalk to your car, eager to go on the search for stray cats. "A perfect plan, really. I see no flaws."

"I see several," Castiel remarked as he followed after you.

"Well, I didn't ask, now did I?"

He got into the car after you with only a harumph, and you didn't speak for a while. The silence let you start to reminisce again, analyzing every moment in the bunker for the past few months. How many times did you ignore your brain screaming at you that everything was too soon? How many times had you looked past Dean's brooding? How often did you struggle to be alone because if you were alone, then you thought about Laurie and the nixie?

Your brain swam with different questions and reflections until Castiel asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you quickly denied. Your eyes focused on the road ahead to avoid his blue ones staring intently at you.

"I can tell it's about something you regret. I know that look all too well." Castiel let a moment of silence pass before he spoke again to give you the chance to admit it. "You don't have to talk about it, but denying that you're caught up in your thoughts is pointless. I have had that same spiral down myself."

"I just don't know if you'd get it since you're an angel and all." You did not want to have a gossip session with an angel, much less an angel that you were pretty sure was Dean's best friend. That seemed like the worst option at that time.

You could see Castiel's head cock in confusion in your peripheral vision. "What would I not 'get'?"

"You know…" you trailed off, but he didn't know. You'd have to explain it. "Feelings. Romantic ones, specifically."

"Ah. Romance. I actually do know a thing or two about that. Nothing meaningful, but I've had my fair share of–"

You quickly cut him off from whatever escapades he was about to describe. "Okay, we are not close enough yet for you to be telling me about your heavenly one-night stands, but I appreciate the attempt at bonding."

"None of them were in Heaven."

"Great to know that you angels aren't boning up there, Cas, but it's not the point."

Suddenly, your angel companion grew silent, and you were unsure why the conversation had stopped so abruptly. Considering its direction, you were far from complaining, but Castiel's sudden silence created some concern. You were starting to put aside the bad first impression you had and were beginning to enjoy the company.

You spotted an alley teeming with cats and pulled over to investigate, but before either of you got out of the car, you asked, "Did I say something to upset you? I'm sorry if I did."

"No, you said nothing wrong," Castiel replied, though he looked as though he was only half there with you in the car. The dazed look in his eye signaled that his thoughts were somewhere else.

"I guess you do know that look. You have it right now." You shut off the ignition and turned in your seat to face him. Castiel met your inquisitive gaze, and you parroted, "You don't have to talk about it, but denying that you're caught up in your thoughts is pointless."

One corner of his mouth quirked up as you repeated his words, and he chuckled a bit. "We have more in common than I thought we had upon meeting."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that too. We both have the 'I don't know what the hell I'm doing' vibe."

"Vibe? As in vibration?"

"Well, no…not exactly?" You cut off your explanation, realizing that you had to stay on track. "The point is that we can help each other. You've already helped me a little bit with figuring my mess out. Let me help you."

Castiel hesitated but nodded. "That logic does make sense, but we should continue while searching for the draugr. We don't have much time to waste."

"I like the way you think! Multi-tasking is a crucial skill." You opened the car door, quickly surveying the alley in front of you. Some of its feline inhabitants skittered away with the approach of your car, but most of them still resided in the alley.

One cat, in particular, caught your eye because he was so fat and fluffy, and although you were pretty sure he wasn't the cat you were looking for, you wanted to try and approach him anyway. Your conversation with Castiel was quickly forgotten as you inched closer and closer to the cat, making sure your steps were light, and your form was hunched.

You were just a hair's breadth away from touching the cat's silky fur when Castiel said, "I don't think that's the cat we're looking for."

The cat scurried away at the sound of Castiel's voice, leaving you standing with your hand outstretched, and you quietly sighed, "No. No, it wasn't, but it would've been nice to pet."

"I see…" Castiel stiffly followed you into the alley. He looked so out of place among the garbage cans, litter, and stray cats, and it was clear he was pensive. You had assumed it was about your surroundings until he said, "It had caught me off guard when you called me Cas."

You didn't look away from the next cat you were slowly stalking towards, but you still held an apologetic expression on your face. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would upset you."

"I'm not upset," he quickly clarified. He awkwardly mimicked your posture to a nearby cat which quickly became frightened and scurried off as well. "I just had not expected you to call me that. Sam and Dean are the only ones who do so frequently."

"Do you miss them? It doesn't seem like you're around the bunker much, but the way you've talked, you were all really close."

"I would say…" The angel seemed to analyze his own feelings at that time like he had never thought about it before. "Yes. I do miss them. Although, ultimately, it has been my decisions that have made our time together few and far between."

You hummed in understanding, identifying heavily with his sentiment. "You ever think about going back to the bunker and staying there with Sam and Dean?"

"Not–" Castiel's sentence was abruptly cut off as he held his breath, finally getting close enough to pet one of the cats. His mouth pressed into a concentrated line before he sighed and stood, allowing the feline to skitter away – not the draugr. He continued, "Not very often anymore. I don't think it's the right place for me."

"How do we find the right place?"

"I don't know."

Your conversation petered until you saw a particularly malnourished cat sitting away from the rest, carefully cleaning its mangy fur. It showed no hesitation or fear as you approached, and once your hand made contact with it, you knew it was the draugr you were looking for.

You picked up the cat and carried it back towards the car, saying to Castiel as you passed, "We got 'em. Now time for the plan."

Castiel followed you wordlessly back to the car, and although you had just been in a disgusting alley trolling around garbage for feral cats, he had actually had fun. So had you. For the first time in months, you started feeling like you had a handle on your life again.

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