#BUT alternatively i’m assuming that this is all setting up for something cool coming up

[pavloving]

i love when star wars is cool and stupid

[notjustjavierpena]

Diner

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: My first darkfic and based on that one picture of Pedro in Freaky Tales. READ THE TAGS!!!!

Summary: You get more than you paid for during your visit to a roadside diner.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con, degrading language, condescending language, blood and violence, threats of violence, forced masturbation, forced orgasm, forced creampie, reader does NOT enjoy this! 

Word count: 3.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52941784

Diner

Something about roadside diners makes you feel like you are in an alternate universe. It starts the second that you step out of your car and onto the asphalt, a weird sensation of not being in the real world overtaking you as you listen to the cars drive by at a dizzying speed. There are a few cars here already, but you suspect that most of them belong to the people staying at the motel just next to the small and informal restaurant instead of people eating dinner. It is late after all, so late that you can see you are just in time for a coffee before they close. 

You’ve been driving home in the summer heat for your sister’s wedding, crossing state lines for days now to make it in time, and it means quick dinners, cheap coffee, and sleeping in your car. At this point, you’ve actually come to like the greasy fried food and the coffee that almost resembles tar with how strong it is. It helps you regulate your body temperature in the car, forcing you to cool down because it’s scalding hot in your stomach. 

A tiny bell rings as you walk through the door. The checkered tile floor seems slightly sticky as you move through the place with the taste of stale coffee already present on your tongue as if the setting has triggered a memory. You notice the single customer sitting in a booth along the window, all broad shoulders and sleeves rolled up as he eats two slices of toast with eggs and bacon, but you don’t think much of the man as much as you think about eating breakfast foods at night. It’s always oddly satisfying, weirdly rebellious. 

You squeeze in between two chairs from the line along the counter. You brush away a few granules of sugar from it, smiling slightly as you are approached by what you assume is the only staff at this time. 

“Just coffee?” The lady behind the counter asks as she notices you not looking at the menu and not checking out the pie underneath a glass dome to your left. 

“That’d be great,” you reply.

“And no milk or nothin’?” She continues. 

You shake your head no and look around at nothing of importance the second she walks away to start up the coffee machine. It gurgles a few moments later. 

Behind you, the man has finished his meal. He gets out of the booth to use the restroom, leaving you to sip your coffee alone with the waitress who makes no effort to start up a conversation with you (then again, you don’t start chatting with her either). 

Time passes. The song playing from the radio in the background ends. The stranger reemerges and shakes his hands dry on his way to his table again. He doesn’t sit but instead carries his plate to the counter. 

“Thanks, Doris, great like always,” he smiles, turning to you briefly to acknowledge your presence. He nods in greeting. 

“Anytime, Joel,” Doris blinks at him, batting her lashes. She is clearly infatuated, and you can understand why; the two of them seem to be about the same age. Joel is tall with broad shoulders in an open flannel with a t-shirt underneath, his hands look rough and used to hard labor, and his hair is slicked back by what you don’t know whether is gel or sweat but it looks like he has run his fingers through it several times today.

“Well, I’m off, see ya tomorrow,” he turns to go gather his things at the table where he has been eating. You think nothing more of it.

“Anything else, honey?” Doris asks and you shake your head.

“No thanks,” you say politely, “I’m all good.”

“I’ll have my smoke break then,” she states, untying her apron and hanging it on the wall only to proceed to dig out a package of cigarettes from the pocket on the front, “You can just leave the money on the counter when you leave.”

And then it’s just you and Joel and an eerie feeling settles in your stomach at being alone with a man you don’t know, especially in between cities and even moreso at night. 

You glance over your shoulder to watch him carefully but he is just picking through his wallet to leave a tip on the table. You look straight ahead again and shake your head at how ridiculous you feel about your anxiety, rolling your eyes at how you could think such things about someone who is having eggs at midnight. 

Still, something feels wrong. You steal another glance over your shoulder and see the table with the empty plate, and the crumbled bill beside it. What you don’t see is Joel, which is weird because you haven’t heard the bell from the door being opened and clo-

A rough hand settles on the back of your neck. It grips you hard until it hurts, causing you to crane your neck and gasp loudly into the room. Joel’s voice makes your skin crawl, “Fuck, you are pretty.” 

You hear a deep inhale through the nose followed by a satisfied sigh, “Smell pretty too. Been driving all day alone?”

“What are you doing?” You are frozen to the spot. He has trapped you between the counter, two barstool chairs, and himself. The hand holding you in place is uncomfortable but mostly, its iron grip has started to make you lightheaded due to his thumb and index finger pressing into your carotid artery. It makes you not want to move in case he grabs harder. 

“I just realized that I haven’t had dessert in a while ‘n’ pie just doesn’t seem to cut it,” he replies, breathing labored already from how he has control over what your body can or cannot do. The words make you squirm but you still, for some reason, haven’t thought about screaming for help.

“No,” your voice quivers and bravely you try to decline the offer, “I don’t want that. Please.”

“Afraid you’ll like it too much?” You can feel he has moved his head closer, can feel the smirk in his voice. You feel sick like you might actually puke if you weren’t working on an empty stomach.

“Doris’ll come back,” you reason. 

“She’s closing up in ten,” he laughs as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard, “She’ll use every second of those ten minutes to have what she considers fresh air but I don’t think we need much longer, do you?”

You whimper, and then suddenly you’re on the move but it’s not by yourself. No. Joel is hauling you backward, moving you around like you weigh nothing, and causing your feet to stumble several times. However, he doesn’t seem bothered by your clumsiness caused by terror, just uses a bit more force until he can shove you down onto an empty table. 

That’s when you feel panic starting to rise in your body. You start thrashing, grabbing at whatever you can reach on the table to throw it down onto the floor and make a racket. You cry too, shock setting in and causing tears to flow desperately as emotions become too much. This is it, you think, this is what prey must feel when they’re trying to escape.

Joel growls in anger, holding you roughly in place so your efforts are to no avail, “Shut the fuck up. Stop crying.”

You absolutely don’t. That is until your forehead and nose connect with the surface of the table. Joel has pushed you on the back of your head so harshly that your face has been violently knocked down onto the table, and it hurts, prickling in your nostrils and nausea settling more in your stomach. The impact makes you feel dizzy enough to not continue fighting him. 

A sudden taste of iron fills your mouth. You are bleeding from your nose, you realize, and it replaces the salty taste of your tears and drips onto the surface of the table. Pathetically, you try grabbing at anything in front of you and you end up smearing the bloodstains across the white. It’s not the sight that makes you gag but the fact that Joel seems aroused by it. 

“Relax,” he responds to your whine, “‘tis just a bit of blood.”

But that’s not what causes your noise. It’s the position you are in; it makes your ass stick out and Joel’s crotch rests against it whilst he reaches out for your hair, bunching it up in his strong hand and creating a makeshift ponytail to tug on. You try to make sense of what is happening but all you can focus on is how big he seems in his jeans, rock hard against you as he yanks your head up by the hair. It may be your foggy mind’s way of protecting yourself from realizing what this is, particularly because you had a brief thought earlier about how nice his hands would feel if they touched you. They feel horrible.

When he straightens behind you, his free hand starts tugging on your pants. He is rough in his movements but careful enough to make sure that nothing rips, knowing he shouldn’t leave evidence of your ravish behind. 

“Please,” you slur with desperation.

“No begging now,” he purposely misunderstands, “I’ll give you what you need real soon, sweetheart.”

When your pants sit around your knees, he lets the hand go down between your legs. Your mind is suddenly very clear. 

“Are you a virgin?” He asks with a dark smile evident in his voice. His hand skims along the inside of your thigh, and you feel your feet trying to move away. His fingertips are so close to where you don’t want them. He kicks your ankles hard enough to make you unable to breathe, unable to balance on your feet so you can’t even try to flee.

You whimper in reply. 

The satisfied growl he lets out sends a shiver down your spine, cold sweat making you feel lightheaded. 

“No,” you finally manage to stutter out, trying to convince yourself that replying is going to make the heartbeat in your chest less intense as you’ve made yourself less interesting to him. Instead, you realize that you have only disappointed him.

“Just when I got my hopes up,” he tuts, suddenly palming your cunt through your underwear. You want to scream and cry but somehow, you simply cannot and it dawns on you that your body is too scared of making him furious to do your most instinctive act of fighting back, “Can’t say I’m happy, but I am surprised at having a whore on my hands. Wait till I tell the guys back home ‘bout you, they’ll be so envious.”

His fingers curl around the fabric of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and the fabric snaps at the violent yanks that he does. It was only the pants, you think, it was only those that needed to be saved for keeping up appearances. 

The way the skin of his hand touches your bare thighs feels like fire, and you don’t know whether to feel relief that nothing has happened yet or become hysterical when your underwear sits around your knees too; you know the rest, know what he is about to do and now, you just have to wait for it to be over. 

And then briefly, it’s gone but you don’t dare think that he might have changed his mind but when you lift your head, you can see him in the reflection of the window, sucking on his own fingers to wet them until they’re shiny with saliva. 

“Stay still,” he commands, and the hand on the back of your neck slides down so he can rest his forearm on the small of your back to still hold you down. His wetted fingers go right between your legs to search for your clit, and he presses down on it until you let out a whimper from a sudden state of arousal slowly taking over your body. 

He rubs you off for a few minutes where you fight every single nerve in your body to not enjoy it but suddenly you let out your first involuntary moan, pussy starting to wet against your will and shame setting in. You rest your cheek against the table, tears sliding down over your nose as you occasionally moan helplessly. Your poor treacherous body burns deep below your navel, and the tingling in your core makes you think that maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad. 

“That’s it,” he says in a gentle voice, a tone that makes you hold back a gag, “Knew you wanted it, just needed a little encouragement.”

“Please,” you sob, “I can pay you.”

“I don’t want cash,” he replies simply, sliding his digits through your slick, “I want you, sweetheart, and it seems this pussy wants me too.”

Joel’s fingers leave you and you hear him suck his fingers clean with a hum. The air feels cool against your swollen cunt which is so wet by now that you start to believe, albeit barely, that a part of you wants this. How can you say you don’t when you are close to dripping?

“I’m gonna let go of you now but if you try anything, I’ll cut your fucking tits off with a steak knife, got it?” Joel’s threat doesn’t seem empty.

You nod, paralyzed, and he stretches. You shiver at the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. There’s a bit of shuffling and then you feel the blunt head of his dick poking into your ass. 

He doesn’t waste his time it seems, because he rubs the tip through your wetness and starts to breach you. Color drains from your face at the realization of his size. 

“No, no no no,” you pant as he pushes into you. He teases you open but only at first; you let out a sharp cry as he enters you fully and with no warning. The head had been a warning of how big he was going to be but now that he is sheathed inside of you to the brim, you feel like nothing could have ever prepared you for his size even if you had wanted him. He kisses your cervix, splits you open, and your cunt clenches in an attempt to push him out and pull him in.

“Fuck,” he moans and draws out the word, “Tight heaven.”

He fucks you like a ravenous animal and you turn into a helplessly moaning mess, held down to the point where your hips are hurting against the table because Joel uses all of his weight to pleasure himself with you. 

His fingers dig into your hips enough to bruise and his zipper gnaws into the back of your thigh. You have never taken anyone as big as him before, and it’s almost an out-of-body experience to be stretched out again and again by him. He swears above you, rhythm faltering, every time you accidentally find a shred of pleasure in his thrusts.

You feel fucked out of your mind but you are stuck there, having to take each bruising thrust that sends pain shooting through your body each time Joel’s cock bumps the back of your cunt (which is every other crash of his hips due to his size). 

“Ah,” you whimper shamefully when he nudges against your g-spot. It takes some of the pain away, and soon, you let out a breathless gasp. Would you actually enjoy him if circumstances had been different? If he’d chatted you up and booked a room at the motel next door? 

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut. It leaves you to focus on the way that your cunt squelches from your wetness, how Joel grunts behind you as he continues driving into you. 

“Listen to that, you really think your whore-pussy would sound like that if you didn’t want this?” He taunts.

“No, Joel,” you say without any tone to your voice.

“You wanna come, sweetheart? Touch yourself,” he pulls you back by your hips a little until you are able to move your hand to your crotch. His thrusts relent and bring you relief from your throbbing and pained muscles. You don’t move, and he grows impatient and cruel. You almost want to laugh at the contrast of his next line but you find yourself too scared of the unknown, “You think you get a choice here, you little bitch? Do it now.”

Reluctantly, your hand slides down between your legs but you still feel relief as you start touching yourself. In the moment, you try to remind yourself of what you like to do when it’s just you alone and you find that your cunt stirs with interest. It’s followed by a string of ahs as you begin to actually enjoy it, circling your clit with determination to finish.

“That’s it, wanna feel you milk me,” his breath is more ragged now. He is close you realize, and he is not going to pull out. 

It feels shameful when you make yourself come, cunt setting off into spasms that should feel beautiful but just makes you hate yourself for enjoying the way they make you feel. You moan louder than intended, completely at the mercy of the pleasure that has been built up deep inside of you and is now coursing through your nervous system.

Joel seems to understand your conflict, radiating claustrophobic warmth as he speeds up his hips as if he is using your body to masturbate with you. His voice is breathy as he talks, he sounds nearly on the edge of coming, “Shh… It’s supposed to feel good. It should feel good.”

He finishes inside of you a moment later, warm and sticky with a looming threat of what could happen from this act. The groan he lets out is one you don’t think you will forget. He gives you his final thrusts, fucking you through each spurt of his cock, “Take it, oh fuck. Thaaat’s it.”

Time stands still after that. You don’t move despite him removing himself from you. Instead, you listen to him tugging himself back into his jeans, the rustling of the denim, and then the noise of his zipper and him buckling his belt. 

After a moment more, his hands pull up off your shredded underwear and then he tugs your jeans up over your hips again. He hauls you up and holds your arms tightly so you don’t fall over once more. You don’t look at him and it seems to infuriate him. With a strong grip around your jaw, he forces your head towards him, “Hey, look at me.”

When you still don’t, he shakes your head a little, “Eyes here.”

You eventually follow through, vision blurry from how much you have cried. He scans your face, “You don’t tell anyone about this or I swear. I don’t usually hunt down pretty girls like you but I will. You go into your car and you drive away. I’ll watch you from here. Got it?”

Your body aches as you nod but your expression is blank, even when Joel pushes you out of his grip so you stumble and even when you see him stuff your panties into his pocket. 

“Go,” he snaps when you’re still immovable. 

You don’t know how but suddenly, you’re walking out the door, barely noticing where your feet hit the ground, and doing exactly what he has said. You probably shouldn’t even be driving let alone on the highway but you do until you feel nothing at all except his come dripping from your aching cunt.

.

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[kittenofdoomage]

Neiras

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Returning to your grandmother's house on the coast brings forth a flood of memories and secrets... where will they lead you?

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Merman!Dean x fem!reader x Merman!Sam

Word Count: 6664

Warnings: alternate universe, depression, loss of family, grief, angst, merfolk, smut (monster fucking, anatomically impossible smut, sorta anatomically correct sea mammal dicks, sex in the ocean, polyamory, weird science, implied wombfucking, breeding, belly bulging), made up language, fluff (somehow, I don’t know it happened)

Canon Bay, Oregon, 2003

The sun was beginning to set, illuminating the horizon with different colors as it descended. You heard your grandmother calling, and sprinted up the beach, giggling as you crashed into the little site you’d claimed for your own earlier in the day. Now, the picnic was gone, and the air was starting to cool, making way for the evening. Under instruction to help pack up, you shook the sand out of your shoes and slipped them on, casting your attention back to the waves.

There was soft music playing from somewhere, not unusual in a busy coastal town, but it didn’t sound like an ice cream truck or one of the small rides on the pier. You listened, and your distraction from your task caught your grandmother’s attention. She called your name, and you turned your head to look at her.

“Don’t you hear that, Grandma?” you asked curiously.

Something twisted her features for a second, and then she clicked her fingers. “Come on, child, it’s just the music from the arcade.”

You knew she was lying, and somehow you knew she couldn’t hear the music. Still, she was a grown up, and probably the wisest person you knew, so you packed up, trying to ignore the sweet melody filling the air.

With everything back in the basket and bags, you followed your grandmother up the beach. As you reached the top of the sandy bank, you turned back to look at the water, pausing when you saw a human-like figure, silhouetted by the setting sun, half-submerged in the waves. You gasped, and the figure dived, splashing a tail against the surface before disappearing completely.

Your grandmother had told you tales when you were smaller about the mermaids that lived in the bay. You vividly remembered your Aunt Sylvia talking about them, believing firmly that they were real, but you were eight, and too old for fairy tales. Maybe you had simply seen a dolphin, or something else.

The music stopped.

A sharp bark of your name pulled you back to the present, and you scrambled up the bank, trudging behind your grandmother with only the occasional glance back at the ocean. You caught up quickly, and your young tongue wouldn’t be held back. “Grandma?” you squeaked. “Aunt Sylvia said mermaids were real.”

“Aren’t you a little old to believe in mermaids?” she scolded, though you recognized the pain on her face at the mention of your aunt. No one really talked about her anymore, and all they had told you was that she had moved away. You were certain she wouldn’t have left and not told you, but not even your mother would tell you anything. “Of course mermaids aren’t real.”

Her tone made you fall silent, and you didn’t say another word until you reached her little house, tucked away on the hill set back from the sea. You liked your summers there, or you had until Aunt Sylvia had left; since then, Grandma just seemed sad, much like your mother did.

She sent you to bed just after nine, but you couldn’t sleep. You kept listening, wondering if you would hear the music again, trying to stay perfectly still and quiet just in case you missed it. At some point, the phone rang, and you heard your grandmother answer.

She didn’t sound happy. “I think we should talk about her future visits,” she said quietly, assuming you were asleep. “I’m not sure it’s safe for her anymore.”

Her voice faded away, and you clutched your blanket to your chest. Did she not want you to visit anymore? Was it because you’d asked about the mermaids? You didn’t understand, but you couldn’t say anything - you knew you’d get in trouble for eavesdropping.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, and when you woke the next morning, you were groggily greeted by the early arrival of your parents. Your grandmother seemed so sad when she said goodbye, and somehow, you knew that it would be the last time you saw her for a while.

Twenty years later…

You didn’t recognize the little town when you pulled off of the highway and followed the coast. Everything had changed. The small boardwalk was mostly just boarded up stores and a grim looking diner, and the pier was fenced off, missing the rides you remembered, crumbling at one end. In the twenty years since your last visit, the town had all but died, all the buildings had become dilapidated, including your grandmother’s cottage on the hill.

Guilt filled you as you parked up outside. You had never come back when she’d sent you away that summer, even when you’d insisted on coming to see her, she refused, preferring to make the trip to you instead. The last time you had seen her was six months ago, at your parents’ funeral, and she’d been stoic the whole time, more worried about leaving you alone than her own wellbeing.

You’d thought you had a decent support system, so you’d told her you couldn’t pull her away from her home. And for a month, you’d been okay, until you were made redundant when the company you worked for folded. Your search for a job had been fruitless, and apparently, your unemployment had also driven your fiance into the arms of another woman. All of your friends were getting married and having children, and you no longer felt like you fit in anywhere. By the time you made the decision to move in with your grandmother, it was too late.

She passed before you could make the move. Now you were here, a few hundred bucks to your name and all of your belongings in the back of your old Nissan. Grandma had left you everything in her will, including the house, which was worth approximately nothing because the town was dead. Still, it was a sorely needed roof over your head.

After two days of packing, driving overnight, and more caffeine drinks than was probably recommended, you crawled into your childhood single bed and passed out, leaving half of your stuff in the car. You managed a solid ten hours, waking when the sun was already half-way up its climb, but only because the seagulls were so damn loud.

Digging into your bag, you located the jar of coffee you had brought with you, lamenting the lack of milk. Still, black coffee was better than no coffee, though you had to flip the breakers to get the power back on. You had enough savings to pay the bills for a while thankfully, you just had to figure out your next steps.

Bringing everything in from the car, you started to unpack. Most of your grandmother’s stuff was where she left it, and you hoped some of it might be worth selling to prop up your savings a little longer. Sorting through it was not going to be an easy job.

By lunch, your stomach was growling for more than coffee. You slipped on a jacket, deciding to stroll down to the diner and see if they had anything good. It wasn’t a long walk, but daylight only served to show just how downhill Canon Bay had gone. There were no tourists, only a few fishermen along the beach, and when you reached the diner, it was deserted. An older woman stood at the till, filing her nails, and she looked up in surprise when she saw you.

“Good morning,” you greeted. She kept staring, obviously dumbfounded that she had a customer. You tried to appear casual, scanning the menu, deciding something simple would probably be safest. “Can I get a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich?”

The request seemed to knock her back into reality. “Of course, hon,” she chirped sweetly, pressing a hand to her chest. “You’ll have to forgive me, we don’t get many strangers around here.” She moved to the till, tapping something in. “Cream and sugar with the coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“That’ll be three dollars ninety.” You handed over a five, and she handed back your change. “Find yourself a seat, darling, I’ll bring it out.”

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

With a quick grin, she moved toward the dining hatch. “Louie!” she called, putting the order slip on the wheel before crushing her hand against the bell. A male voice answered her, and she threw whoever it was a thumbs up, moving straight to the coffee machine.

You chose the table in the middle of the six, right by the window. As you waited, you stared out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the pier. The waitress’ arrival made you jump, and you gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was in my own little world,” you laughed lightly.

“That’s alright,” she replied with a smile of her own as she poured your drink. “Are you on vacation here?”

“Actually,” you murmured, reaching for the cream as she slid the full cup of coffee towards you, “my grandmother lived here, all her life. She, uh, passed away last week. Left me the house.”

She paused, giving you a moment of scrutiny. “You’re Lenore’s granddaughter?”

“Uh-huh.”

“My word, girl, you’ve grown,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know if you would even remember - your grandma used to bring you in here for chili dogs when you were knee-high to a grasshopper!” She clutched her chest, and you noticed her name tag for the first time, faded but readable - Ginny. You had a vague recollection of the diner though any memory of her eluded you. “I was so sorry to hear about Lenore’s passing.”

“Yeah, she, uh - it was unexpected,” you sighed, smiling sadly. “I just wish I could have had a little more time with her.”

“She was always so nice,” Ginny said softly. “But sad, I guess after what happened to her daughter.”

“My mom’s death was pretty hard on her,” you agreed.

Her brow dipped into a frown. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I was, uh, I was talking about Sylvia. I didn’t realize your mom passed too, I’m so sorry, honey.”

The name sparked a memory, a woman with curly brown hair and a dazzling smile, leading you down the beach, telling you stories. Your heart started to thump wildly as you recalled things that had been buried for a long time. “Thanks,” you mumbled absently. “They, uh, they never told me much about - that. I was a kid, I guess they didn’t wanna upset me.”

“She was such a free spirit,” she said with a sad smile on her face. “I remember seeing the posters for weeks but they never found her, right?”

You had no idea, and told her as much, making her frown even more. “Maybe it was just too painful for them to talk about,” you suggested with a light shrug. “Explains a lot though.”

Ginny gave you a light, comforting touch on the shoulder. “I’ll go see about your sandwich,” she murmured, and you nodded, thankful for her polite exit. The mention of your aunt was still swirling in your mind, along with the recollection of your last visit, which if you were correct, wasn’t long after Aunt Sylvia suddenly disappeared from your life.

You stayed in the diner for a couple of hours, talking to Ginny for most of it. It was nice to talk to someone who was on the outside, who didn’t feel like they were going to judge you, and you promised to come down for breakfast the next day. The sky had clouded over when you stepped out onto the sidewalk, so you pulled the collar of your jacket up, heading back along the seafront to the road up to your grandmother’s house.

Or your house, you supposed.

The fishermen were gone, and the tide was coming in, crashing in stronger and stronger waves against the sand. You slowed as you heard something over the sound of the water, a soft music, almost otherworldly, and it drew you to a stop as you listened. It sent a calm through you, settling over your soul in a way no music had before.

“It’s about to rain, miss.”

The voice made you jump out of your skin, and you turned to face an older gentleman, dressed head to toe in a yellow raincoat and waders with a wide brimmed fisherman’s hat on his head. “Excuse me?” you stuttered, uncertain what he’d said. The music was gone, taking your trance with it.

“It’s going to rain,” the man repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re Lenore’s grandkid.”

You had no idea who he was. “Do I know you?”

He grunted. “If you’re hearing what I think you’re hearing,” he said gruffly, with little enunciation, “you should leave. Get as far away from the ocean as you can.”

The instruction was cryptic, and bewildering; you straightened, backing up a step or two. Droplets of rain started to fall, splashing onto the sidewalk around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rushed out.

“Stay away from the water,” the old man warned, lifting a finger in your direction.

You turned, taking off as the rain grew heavier and heavier, resisting the urge to glance back at the old weirdo. When you reached the cottage, you shut the door and locked it securely, grabbing a towel from a pile in your room. Outside, the rain turned to a storm, and you winced when the thunder felt like it was the sky falling in on the roof. You distracted yourself with some music, trying to remove the earwig of a melody you’d heard earlier as you sorted through your grandmother’s abundant books and papers.

It didn’t take long to find the first newspaper clippings and the police reports about your aunt. You had been right about the timing between your last visit and her disappearance from your life - that summer had been three months after she was gone. The police had declared her lost at sea, and a funeral was held, but as you made your way through the letters your grandmother had written, it didn’t seem like she’d ever given her youngest daughter up for dead.

The mystery deepened when you found both her journals, and Sylvia’s, the latter of which were neatly boxed and sitting on a shelf in the living room. Your curiosity drew you to your aunt’s first, and you skimmed over her teenage entries, reading through her later ones, when she was an adult, when you vaguely recalled she’d left her husband to come and live with your grandmother.

Your heart ached for the pain in her words as she described leaving her violent marriage, how free she felt when she came to live in Canon Bay. As you scanned the passages describing her move, your blood ran cold; she had heard the music too.

Dear Diary,

I don’t know how to describe what happened today. Mom thinks I’m crazy, but I swear, I could hear the sweetest music coming from the sea. I know it’s not the first time I’ve heard it either, except she denies me ever mentioning it. Tomorrow I’m going to go to the library and try to find those old legends Dad told me about when I was a kid. I’m sure he said something about music and mermaids.

Or maybe I am crazy. I’m never sure of anything these days, not since he fucked with my head so much. Mom says she knows a therapist in town with good rates. 

You had never met your grandfather. He had left your grandmother when your mom and her sister were little, taking them with him when he moved to the next state over to give them a better education. Your grandmother hadn’t wanted to leave, and the relationship had never recovered; he died before you were born.

Reading further on, your aunt’s words began to prod at your own curiosity. She spoke of the music often, and the urge to follow it, an urge she seemed to resist at first. But as the entries got closer to the date she had disappeared, she wrote with less determination to resist it. Her final entry was short, and it chilled you to the bone.

I can’t resist it any more. I saw him today. He’s calling me home. Mom’s gonna be so mad but I have to go to him.

Who was “him”? you wondered to yourself, flipping through the rest of the blank pages. There was every chance your grandmother’s journals would reveal the answer, and you reached for them, barely noticing the time, or that the storm outside had stopped raging. It took a few minutes to find the right one that matched the date, and you flicked through, finding no mention of anything to do with music, and only brief concerns about your aunt’s behavior, at least, until you reached the entry for the day she disappeared.

They’re telling me my Sylvia is dead, that she walked into the sea. I never believed it, not even when she mentioned that forsaken song to me. The police won’t listen. Robert says that she shouldn’t have followed the music, that she’s taken by the ocean, but I can’t believe that. She wouldn’t just give up.

The pages were stained with tear drops, and you brushed your fingers over the words, looking for the next entry. They were sparse after that, up until three months later, when your last day was marked with a single paragraph.

My darling Y/N said she heard the song. She’s only a child. But Sylvia said she heard it as a child too, that it was only as an adult she felt the pull. I wish I had paid more attention to her… I can’t save her now, but I can save Y/N. Her parents are collecting her in the morning, and I’ve told her mother to never bring her back again.

You closed the journal, realizing suddenly how quiet it was. Not even the gulls made a noise, and you got up from your now-uncomfortable seated position, wandering over to the window. The sound of the waves was just catchable, so you opened the window, suddenly hearing the soft melody on the breeze again, and its effect was instantaneous. With your hands on the ledge, you leaned into the cool air, listening intently.

Sylvia was right. It did feel like a call home.

Somewhere in town, a car engine backfired, and the whooping of teenagers followed. The song evaporated, and your shoulders dropped as the spell was broken. With a sigh, you closed the window, glancing back at the piles of books and papers before deciding bed was the best place for you.

You didn’t forget your promise to Ginny, heading down to the diner bright and early with the sun shining. There was obviously fresh graffiti on a few of the boarded up stores, and when you mentioned it to the waitress, she shook her head, grumbling about shitty youth from the next town over. She confessed she knew it was only a matter of time before Canon Bay was completely abandoned, and when it happened, she would be moving to live with her cousin in Seattle. You tried not to let her downcast opinion of the future weigh too heavily on your mind, knowing that the fresh start you sought probably wasn’t going to be found in your grandmother’s aging house or the town slowly processing its death knell around it.

The pancakes were delicious at least. Belly full, and caffeine at a functioning level, you decided to walk along the beach, removing your shoes and socks to walk in the surf. There were no fishermen that day, no one at all, and you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you strolled, occasionally glancing out to sea.

You had almost made it the full length of the beach, coming close to the sheer cliffs that cut it off on one side, when you heard the music again. Slowing to a stop, ankle deep in the briny tide, you stared into the distance, squinting through the sunshine when you saw something diving below the surface. You waded a little deeper, and the bottoms of your rolled up pants started to get wet.

A head appeared above the surface, fifty meters or so ahead of you. Holding your breath, you stared, listening to the melody as it enticed you further. When it stopped abruptly, the head disappeared back below the waves, and you frowned, turning when a familiar voice yelled out at you.

“Hey!”

It was the same old fisherman from the night before. He beckoned you from the water, holding out your shoes; you hadn’t even realized you’d dropped them.

“You really shouldn’t be out there, miss,” he panted as you stepped back onto the dry sand, sparing one more glance behind you. You reached for your shoes, and he grasped your wrist, tugging you closer, and panic made you try to pull away. His face twisted with urgency, and his lips parted, revealing crooked teeth. “They’ll take you,” he hissed. “There’s no coming back.”

With one sharp pull, you freed yourself and then snatched your shoes. “You’re crazy,” you snapped, storming off up the beach. When you reached the cottage, your heart was pounding, and your head was spinning, the melody playing on repeat in your mind even though you couldn’t hear it anymore. You flopped onto the couch, staring at the mess you still had to sort through, listing the things you had to do as a distraction.

The rest of the day felt like a chore. You drifted from one task to another, getting nothing completely done. Your aunt’s diaries kept drawing you back in, trying to make sense of the things you remembered and the things she’d written down. By nightfall, you were dozing on the couch, dreaming of the ocean as you curled into the cushions.

It was the middle of the night when you jolted awake, hearing the music almost right away. For a moment, you thought you might still be dreaming, getting to your feet in a daze as you drifted towards the window and opened it. Clearly now, the melody kept playing, and what little resistance was in you faded away. You didn’t bother with shoes when you left the house, walking down the hill into the deserted, dark town, following the song until you reached the water’s edge.

A face appeared just above the water, illuminated only by the moonlight. You stepped into the slowly lapping waves, feeling the chill of it, staring at the curious eyes watching you from the surface of the calm ocean. Another set of eyes joined them, two heads now, and the melody grew stronger as your knees were submerged. You moved forward until your feet no longer reached the bottom, thrusting your arms through the water to swim forward, trying to remember lessons from so long ago. A few feet more and you were struggling, looking around for the two faces that had disappeared.

You spluttered, treading water as best you could, shivering from the cold. The current dragged you down as you floated further out, and you struck out, desperately trying to reach the surface.

Something brushed against you, making you twist in the water. Two shadows circled you, muscular bodies with long tails, vaguely human from what you could see, but you couldn’t see much. One of them came closer, pulling you up towards the moonlight, and you clutched at what you realized was a male body, or a male torso at least. He carried you higher until you breached the surface, staring into the face of your rescuer.

The song stopped. He leaned in, green eyes almost luminescent in the darkness; you could see the scales on his skin glistening with the light of the moon, his thick, short hair dripping water onto them. “You’re -” you gasped as the second being emerged from the water, another male, sporting the same scales on his pale skin.

The first one smirked, sharing a look with his counterpart. He reached up with one webbed hand, catching your jaw as he closed the distance between your bodies. You didn’t react at first when he kissed you, sliding his pointed tongue against yours. There was an odd taste to him, foreign yet not unpleasant, but before you could voice another word, your eyes rolled back and the last thing you saw was the moon above you before the ocean swallowed you.

It was daylight when you opened your eyes again, and you knew you were nowhere near when you had been. The rock you were laying on was slanted but fairly flat, and you could hear the waves gently lapping at the shore before you saw it. You lifted up onto your arms, hands planted against the smooth rock as the disorientation wore off, allowing you to take in your new situation. For one, you were nude, submerged in water up to your mid-thigh, and the sun was high enough in the sky that it warmed your skin. Raising a hand to shade your face, you gasped and froze when you realized that there were now delicate scales running the length of your arm.

A splash in the water distracted you. You weren’t alone, and you covered yourself with your hands as best you could, staring at the two males watching you with amusement. “Who - who are you?”

One of them swam a little closer, reaching out to put his webbed hands on the rock. When you flinched, he frowned, tilting his head in such a human gesture it made you pause. “We won’t hurt you,” he said softly, in perfect English.

You blinked at him. “You kidnapped me, and stole my clothes,” you pointed out. “That doesn’t exactly scream friendly.”

He smiled. “Come into the water,” he requested, “and we’ll tell you.” His companion nodded, lifting a little higher above the surface so you could see his whole face. They were both handsome, too handsome really, and their attractiveness was untainted by the scales on their skin, the slight point to their ears. “No harm will come to you, neiras,” he promised.

“Neiras?” you repeated.

No translation or explanation was offered, only his outstretched hand. You stared at it, then slowly reached out to slip your fingers into his. He smiled, helping you off of the rock and into the water, where you felt a little more comfortable with your nudity - so long as their heads stayed above water. “There,” the green eyed one murmured. “Isn’t that better?”

You weren’t sure it was better, not with how weird you were feeling. It felt like your very cells were being rearranged, and coupled with the strange scales on your arms, you were finding it hard not to panic. “What did you do to me?” you asked, looking down as you treaded water easily, feeling a greater strength in your legs than before.

“We gave you the gift,” the larger of the two males replied. “You heard our song.”

“That’s how we knew it was you,” the first continued. “You heard both of us.”

The music, you thought. Was this what had happened to your aunt? “What gift?” you whispered, shaking your head. “I don’t -”

Moving in closer, the first brushed his knuckles along your jaw. “You don’t have to be frightened,” he soothed, leaning in until you could smell the salt on his skin. “We would never hurt you. The change won’t be painful.”

Your head swam, and instinct led you to lean into his touch, seeking more, though you couldn’t make sense of it. “What change?”

The other was suddenly behind you, hands on your naked hips. “A human can’t survive where we live,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. “We had to change you, to make you more like us.” One hand slid around, cupping your lower stomach. “A human wouldn’t be able to carry our sons.”

Something clenched in your gut, and their intentions became crystal clear. “Oh,” you gasped as the first male’s lips ghosted along your jaw. “That’s -” Their hands felt like they were everywhere, and you moaned, trying to fight back the fog of arousal clouding your judgment. “I don’t - stop -”

Almost instantly they obeyed, but they didn’t move away. You panted hard, shaking your head, forcing your eyes open to look at them. “You don’t even know my name,” you stuttered out, feeling ridiculous for focusing on that above everything else. “And I’m gonna need more than…” The words felt too awkward to say. “That explanation,” you finished lamely. “I’m Y/N.”

The two creatures shared a look. “My name is Dean,” the first offered, bowing his head a little before jerking it towards his counterpart. “That’s Sam, my brother.”

“You’re, you’re brothers?” you squeaked. “And you wanna -” The phrase “carry our sons” kept swirling in your head, causing equal reactions of fear and arousal. “This is very strange,” you whispered.

“Our species are all born male,” Sam explained gently. “We have to find a mate on land, and you heard our song, which means -”

“You were meant for us,” Dean continued, catching your face in his palm again. “We called, and you followed - if it wasn’t meant to be, you would have resisted.” You pressed a hand against his chest, unsure whether you wanted him closer or whether you should push him away. “Can’t you feel it, neiras?”

If he was referring to the change in your body, then you could, and giving into it seemed so easy. Sam’s hands were on you again, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t know what that means,” you whimpered, feeling your heart pound hard in your chest.

“It means beloved,” Sam murmured, sliding his hands around to cup your breast. “Cherished. Mate.” His fingers pinched at your nipples, and you gasped, arching back into him. “You’ll swim like us, breathe the water like we do, and in time -” He hummed, and then Dean dragged your attention away with one webbed hand splayed across your stomach, smiling adoringly at you. There didn’t seem to be a need to say what they were implying; they had already told you.

Your thoughts made a fleeting return to the home you had left behind. “And I can’t… I can’t go back.”

“Is there something back there for you?” Dean asked, so close you could kiss him. “You already have a mate?”

“No,” you admitted quietly, suddenly morose with the confrontation that your life hadn’t exactly been going well lately. The only thing you could really think of that you would miss was coffee, which wasn’t really something you wanted to admit. Maybe you were crazy, but the way these beings looked at you was with more intense desire than anyone had ever looked at you. Every instinct you had was already inclining you to trust them… the call had felt like home, and you hadn’t thought twice about answering it.

“You see?” Sam purred against your ear. “You feel it; you belong with us.”

Slowly, you nodded, and Dean leaned in, finally kissing you. It was soft and needy, and his hands gripped your hips tightly, pinning you between him and his brother. When he broke away, you were breathless, and when he abruptly ducked beneath the water, it took a second for you to figure out what he was doing. His fingers pried your legs apart, and Sam held you in place with his hands on your breasts, leaving you at the other male’s mercy.

A pointed tongue ran a path over your slit. You keened quietly, head thrown back against Sam’s shoulder as Dean explored you under the surface, using his tongue to open you up. It felt different than any other time a guy had gone down on you; his tongue was rougher, stronger, definitely longer as he pushed it against your entrance, easily splitting you. You cried out this time, arching as far as Sam would let you, and with nothing to brace yourself against, your thighs settled on Dean’s shoulders. He cupped your ass, eating you out with enthusiasm, fucking his long tongue into you until you were begging for release, uncertain if he could even hear you.

All it took was his thumb pressing into your clit, brushing it a few times, before you were spiraling into a heady climax, trembling in the water between them. Sam kept toying with your breasts, and Dean released you, leaving you to literally float with ecstasy. He breached the surface with a small splash, smirking self-indulgently.

For a moment or two, they didn’t do anything, allowing you to catch your breath with your eyes closed, supported by Sam’s hold. You weren’t sure you’d ever cum so hard with another person, but your imagination was already moving onto the next part, and you suddenly had a concern about what came after. Lifting your head, you looked down at Dean’s front, spotting his belly button a few centimeters above where the thicker scales of his tail began.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown, obviously catching your strange inspection.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed you’d been caught. “I was just… well, you’re part fish, so - sex works the same way, right?”

“We’re no more fish than a dolphin,” Sam chortled, making your face even hotter with shame. “It works mostly the same way.”

You sucked in a breath as one of his hands dropped, webbed fingers stroking over your cunt. “Oh.” The logistics still created a few questions, but then Sam forced you to turn in the water, taking the opportunity to kiss you, pulling your body flush with his as his tail curled around you.

That was when you felt it. Hard and warm against your stomach, obviously his cock but nothing like a human’s. He broke the kiss, taking hold of your hand to guide it under the water, moaning when you tentatively wrapped your fingers around it. It was thick, moving more like a tentacle than a penis, but Sam seemed to enjoy what you were doing, so you kept doing it, wondering what it would feel like inside you.

Sensing your new desire, he lifted you in the water, forcing you to release him. Your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist, and the tip of his cock poked at your entrance, seeking its way in. A burst of arousal made you clench, and he dragged you down, filling you to the brim in one stroke. He was thick, thicker than you’d ever had, and the stretch of it made you cry out, clinging to his shoulders as he ground up into you, trying to get the last few inches inside.

You weren’t sure you could take anymore, babbling nonsense against his neck but wholly unresistant to his determination. Each stroke felt like it was deeper than the last, and he grunted, tightening his hold on you. “It’s too much,” you choked out, shaking your head.

“Just relax,” he urged, slowing his movements a touch, running one hand up your spine. “You can take it all.”

Another roll of hips and your body gave, accepting everything he had to offer. He groaned as he settled deep, clenching his fingers around your hips, meeting his brother’s gaze over your shoulder. Dean moved a little closer, close enough to brush his lips across the back of your neck. “Eventually, you’ll be able to take both of us, neiras,” he murmured, sliding his hands around your front to cup your breasts like Sam had done earlier. “It has to be deep, deep enough that the water can’t wash us away.”

It was hard to think straight with Sam inside you, twitching so deep. “You - you mean -”

“You feel him right?” Dean asked huskily. “Feel how deep he is?”

With one shaking hand, you reached down under the water, pressing your hand to where you could feel Sam, feel the bulge where he was buried deep in your womb. “Yes,” you gasped.

“You’re ours now,” Sam crooned, coaxing you into another soft kiss. You didn’t argue, surrendering when he began to move, drawing his thick pointed shaft nearly all the way out before sinking in again. The water splashed around you as your bodies collided, and your grip on him faltered as you started to cum, shuddering as he fucked deeper. Dean’s fingers kept teasing at your nipples, pinching and twisting until you were nearly sobbing, unable to hold out against the constant onslaught of sensation.

Sam didn’t give you any warning when he was close, but you felt it, a slow throb that made it feel like he was getting thicker inside you. You could barely keep your eyes open, rolling from one climax to the next, and when Sam started to spill deep in your body, you went slack, trembling from head to toe. After a few moments, he withdrew, but there was no reprieve - Dean was right behind you, quickly sliding into the place his brother had carved out.

Dean seemed perfectly content to hold your weight on his own, keeping one arm wrapped around your chest as the other kept a hold on your hip. His tail beat powerfully through the water, giving him the leverage to thrust up into you, making you cry out with every single ram of his hips into yours. Your fingers clung to his arm with a lack of anything else to hold on to, whimpering over and over as pleasure made you feel drunk.

With a throaty growl, he came, and you could feel your stomach bulging with the weight of what they’d left inside you. You couldn’t help the climax he triggered, and unlike Sam, he didn’t pull away when he was done, keeping you there, plugged up and full of both of them. “I knew it was you,” he murmured. “When I saw you, all those years ago.” He sighed, kissing your shoulder as you quivered in his arms.

The boy in the water, you thought absently, enjoying the sudden calm that washed through your veins.

Dean chuckled, grinding into you again, reminding you that he was still hard. “Don’t think we’re going to be done with you for a while,” he warned, lips against the shell of your ear. “You’ll be swollen with us before nightfall.”

The sun was setting on the cove by the time they had spent themselves, allowing you to rest on the shoreline in between them, still partially submerged by the water. You didn’t say anything for a long while, dozing peacefully. When night had nearly fallen, Dean roused you with a hand on your shoulder, calling your name softly.

“It’s time to go home,” he said as you sat up, blinking at him, thinking at first that he meant Canon Bay before the truth rushed you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just -” You sighed, offering him a weak smile. “For a second, I thought it was a dream.”

He smiled. “Not a dream, neiras. But it is time to leave. You have much to learn.” Pushing down into the water, he moved to a deeper depth, waiting for you to join him. You got to your feet, staring out at the sunset before looking down at your hands. There were more scales now, and you felt a new strength in your muscles, which you could only attribute to the change they had spoken of earlier.

Sam called your name. You looked at them, both bobbing in the gentle waves, waiting for you to take the final step forward into a new world. Crinkling your toes in the sand, you put one foot forward, then the other, until you were wading into the water to join them.

“Ready?” Dean asked, catching hold of your hand as you got near.

You smiled and squeezed your webbed fingers around his. “Ready.”

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

[scp230kinnie]

HIII!!I just saw the goth reader head cannons I was wondering if you go to more (or a fic thing up to you😭) with hunter sylvester?‼️ -anon🕷️

I CLOSED AND FORGOT TO SAVE SO IM REWRITING THIS FOR THE SECOND TIME (kill me😻)

Hunter Sylvester x goth! Reader hcs PART 2!!!!

Once again guys I am not goth though I am alternative, so if I get any information wrong or that should be removed, please comment or dm me and I will correct myself as soon as I can

Also sorry if some of these are the same as the other one I’m not rereading it

He honestly doesn’t care how you dress, but I mean the fact that you’re wearing all black is a major bonus

It honestly depends. Sometimes he'd love it, and other times, it'd give him anxiety. Like, on one hand, it's super cute, and he loves how it looks, but it also makes him *noticeably* nervous, since he's worried that people are staring at "his" person. And yeah, there *is* obviously the chance that they're just wearing it to look cool, but he'd still be a tad paranoid, lol.

He absolutely adores you. He loves seeing you in those long flowy black dresses

I’m pretty sure I wrote this in the last one, but he loves to watch you do your makeup

He does complain about how long you take to get ready though

And if he’s feeling REALLY REALLY NICE (rare) he might (KEYWORD MIGHT) let you do goth makeup on him. Makeup here being used loosely. Trad goth.

Only if you let him do corpse paint on you

Sharing makeup with ur boyfriend LMFAO

The movie is set in Oregon, idk if you’re changing that based on ur head or if ur shifting or something, but that place is full of “normal” people I’d say

So before you started dating, if you were in the same school at least, you were one of the only “alternative” people in school, and he noticed that

This guy doesn’t usually get crushes okay.

He’s married to metal

But he liked your look

You can decide how you guys meet/start dating cause there’s infinite ways

He appreciates your individualism, and that’s a part of why he likes you

He’s definitely called you emo a few times (I’m so sorry)

Teach him somethings about goth culture.

He won’t sit down and let you lecture him, but occasionally if you say some comment about the culture he’ll probably retain that information

He doesn’t really care, but he wants you to be happy, so maybe he’ll do a bit of his own research

He loves concerts, so he will accompany you to goth concerts even if he doesn’t listen to the music

He uses his dads card to buy you clothes and accessories

He will come to thrift stores with you.

He’ll say he thinks it’s stupid

Something about how he wouldn’t wear someone else’s clothes

Just force him to go through t shirts and maybe he’ll find some good band tees (neither metal nor goth but I have found sws and mcr shirts at thrift stores)

Even if he does buy some thrift store band tees, he’ll probably complain about how he could get them new from concerts or online or something

But he’ll buy you whatever you want

Imagine doing that one tiktok trend that’s like “guess whos outfit is whos 😁” and forcing him into some black dress LMFAO

speaking of tiktok, social media, whatever, he doesn’t like posting. He’ll scroll through and look and metal memes or something, but he doesn’t like posting himself and is hesitant to let you post him

But if you do post videos/pictures of him and compliment him and do couples trends, he’ll say it’s embarrassing but he secretly likes it

I imagine him telling someone about you and the other person is like “goth girl *lip bite*” or something thinking you’re like an e girl

First off, he’s a little possessive of you

Second off, (assuming you’ve taught him some stuff about being goth) he yells at them and tells them off and something about how e girls are weird

If you teach him how to take good pictures, he’ll be your personal photographer, especially if he really likes your outfit

If you actually go and ASK him to take pictures of you he’ll complain and tell you to do it yourself but he’ll do it for you anyway because he loves you

If you wear those long boots, (same goes for emos who wear knee high converse) sometimes he’ll untie them, just pull the laces or whatever just to fuck with you

He’ll go to record/cd stores and see one of the bands you like and he’ll buy it for you

He loves you no matter what you look like. I mean maybe not if ur a country person but… for the sake of fiction he loves you

———————————————————

Leave sweet home requests if you’re reading this

Also what piercings do you guys think I should get (I already have septum, navel, industrial, and ears)

[altocat]

Back at it again at Krispy Kreme!

Ok, so I’m just sharing some more alternate EC chapter 5 translation insight with you guys since people definitely seem curious. Um…small notice, I am still trying to paraphrase what my friend has tried to explain to me, so if I make any mistakes that someone uncovers later, I do apologize in advance.

An interesting Japanese tidbit in the beach scene where Seph says that it’s his first “field mission” helps us get a clearer picture of what he means.

In Japanese, he says that he “has never had much contact with people and this is his first real battle/first time on a real battlefield, so he doesn’t know what he is doing.”

I suppose this confirms that he hasn’t been exactly on the frontlines, although there is that info blob from the Crisis Core guide about him having been “on the frontlines of battle” since before he was ten years old. My guess is that this is either Shinra propaganda, or else it refers to his training, which would still be referred to as “battle,” I guess. He clearly states that he learned to kill without hesitation throughout his training, so whatever they were throwing at him, it was basically “real” but in a controlled environment, perhaps.

Also, when he says “Nothing, it’s never going to happen anyway,” about living a normal life, it reads in Japanese more as “I don’t care anymore/It doesn’t matter, it’s never going to happen.”

It seems like a direct reference to the Nibelheim scene where he laughs off the questions about his parentage because “What does it matter?”

He has really lost heart about both things, but it’s obvious he still cares.

Also. When Sephiroth says that he knows asking about his everyone about his mother isn’t “cool,” Glenn laughs and says “You know it, haha!” which seems fairly translated in the English, but what may be missing is the nuance of Sephiroth’s next response.

He basically says, “Yeah, that’s everyone’s reaction,” but it comes off like he is referring to Glenn’s laughing and dismissal. Basically, we get the impression that people tend to mock Sephiroth’s inquiry because it’s supposedly childish, like a kid lost in a supermarket asking for their mom.

My friend really thinks it’s because of his hero status, i. e., people laugh at the idea of this young super solider asking about something so “normal?” She also suspects it’s a bit of a reference to the fanbase’s joking about Sephiroth’s obsession with his mother in general. Both in-game and in the actual world, Sephiroth is not really seen as human, so people are amused or fascinated when he shows glimpses of it…or else they dismiss it.

The Japanese version of that photo scene apparently gets this message across better. Seph is used to being laughed off or dismissed when asking about his mother. I also would not be surprised if Hojo was someone that laughed at him over it a lot.

Once again, sorry for extra pain, but we may be getting the idea that it wasn’t just a general “Don’t ask about your mother” vibe at Shinra for Sephiroth, but also a long history of people mocking the question. Poor kid. (I will share a few more translation details soon).

Hhhhhh these are SO interesting.

For Seph's training, I'm of the mind that they've probably been having him undertake mock skirmishes/drills under a controlled setting, as you mentioned. Sephiroth has apparently already been killing, so it wouldn't surprise me if they've been plucking enemies for him to slay while still in their custody. Interesting that it contradicts CC's lore. But at the same time, that could have all been propaganda. It's reasonable to assume that Sephiroth's training was likely extremely psychologically warping, and, for him, as real as an actual battle considering he's developed a paranoia and survival instinct. Shinra is so fucked up.

His line about not wanting to be a hero sounds WAY more checked out in the Japanese dialogue here. He sounds completely hopeless.

The Mother stuff...ASDFGHJFDGHBFDX

Keep these coming! They're really enhancing the context of these scenes!

[enid-rhees]

Oop, another idea has popped into my lil' brain lmaooo-

Alrighty, so imagine Enid and reader are out on a run with Glenn, Carl, and Tara maybe? When the reader gets her period...

Enid notices before anyone else does, and you take it from there lol~

When they get home, Enid surprises her with Chocolate, a movie, and cuddles! 💖

And I think it'd be super cool if you make an alternative ending where Enid fingers the reader and/or eats her out, because after all, orgasms help with cramps 🤭🥴...

hiii !! tysm for another request 🫶🏻🫶🏻 hope you enjoy <3

warnings: reader getting her period, mentions of blood, slight smut. MINORS DNI.

A/N: this is set during that 6 year time skip but Glenn and Carl are still alive becauseeeeee i said so 🫶🏻

something felt off when you left Alexandria with Glenn, Tara, Carl and Enid. you just couldn’t put your finger on it. you brushed it off, assuming it was just worries about going on a run. you sat in the backseat with Enid and Carl while Glenn drove with Tara in the passenger seat.

as Glenn drove out of the city to find a new area to search for food and supplies, you felt a mild discomfort from in your stomach, but chose to ignore it once more.

you leaned your head on Enid’s shoulder, already feeling tired from the long drive you weren’t looking forward to. she intertwined your hands together, resting them on your thigh. you felt her press a quick kiss to your head as you started to doze off, eyes lowering slowly. 

when your eyes opened again, you guys had already arrived at an abandoned grocery store. “hey,” Enid nudged your shoulder, everyone was already out of the car. “you feeling okay?” she asked.

“what? oh yeah, i’m fine. just got tired suddenly.” she gave you one look of concern before nodding. “okay. lets go, they’re all inside.” she got out first and you followed behind.

the second you stood up, you felt something run down your leg. your heart dropped as you stood frozen. Enid started to walk before she noticed you standing still. she turned around, “Y/N?”

you looked up at her, not knowing what to say and suddenly feeling embarrassed. she ran over to you, grabbing onto your arms. “what happened?” she asked you.

“i- i was having random pains and then i stood up… and-“ she nodded, already knowing what you were going to say. “it’s okay,” she breathed out. “come with me.” she took your hand and started to walk towards the entrance of the store.

when you walked in, she pulled you towards a back room and started to dig through her bag. “i always keep a few just in case.” Enid said, handing you a pad. you let out a sigh of relief, “you’re a life saver. i love you.”

Enid chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i’ll be out there looking for stuff. come back out when you’re ready.”

you quickly slipped it on and went back out into the store to not concern anyone. everyone was still busy finding items to take home. you started to grab anything you saw, knowing anything would be helpful to Hilltop.

another cramp hit your side, causing you to bend over and hiss. you set your bag down, kneeling to the ground to wait out the pain. it has never felt like this before. you took a deep breath before standing back up.

you were there for another half hour before everyone gathered up by the exit, bags full of food and supplies. “everyone ready?” Glenn asked. you nodded and so did everyone else.

everyone got back in the car and Glenn drove off. you mentally prepared yourself for the long drive back. you were a few hours away from home.

you resumed your previous position and laid your head on Enid’s shoulder. she took your hand again, rubbing her thumb across your knuckles. a sharp pain landed on your side again and flinched, squeezing her hand.

“we’ll be home soon.” she whispered in your hair. “we’ll shower and cuddle in bed afterwards, how’s that sound?”

you smiled, feeling yourself become flushed from how much she cared for you. “really good.” you whispered back. she smiled back, pressing a short kiss to your lips.

when you made it back, you went to grab for your bag from the backseat, but Enid grabbed it first. “i got it, don’t worry. i don’t want your cramps to worsen.” she told you. “i’ll help them put everything away. i’ll meet you upstairs.”

you wanted to protest, but you knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “okay,” you sighed. “don’t take too long.” you teased.

you made your way upstairs, immediately going into the bathroom. after laying a towel on the ground, you turned the water on to the hottest setting. a long sigh of relief and content left your lips when the water hit your back. a few minutes later, you heard the door open and Enid’s figure came into view from the steamed glass.

she opened the shower door and walked in, immediately walking over to you and wrapping her arms over you. “how do you feel?” she asked. “better. especially now that you’re in here.”

your lips connected in a soft kiss. she ran her hands down your body, soothing the sore places. Enid pulled away, “let me wash your hair.” she reached for the shampoo bottle and poured some on the top of your head. she started to rub it in and massaged your scalp simultaneously. your eyes shut in complete relaxation.

after she rinsed it out, she pulled out the conditioner and applied it gently. you reached for the body wash, squeezing some into a loofah and starting to drag along Enid’s body. once the two of you were both done, Enid turned off the water and you stepped out of the shower.

you put on new pairs of clothes, throwing the blood stained ones in the laundry basket in the corner of your shared bedroom. you crawled into bed while Enid grabbed something from her bag.

she walked over to the bed, holding something behind her back. “what are you hiding?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. she got into bed with you, revealing a chocolate bar and a bag of your favorite chips.

you gasped, face lighting up instantly. “oh my god, Enid.” you pouted, feeling slightly emotional all of a sudden. “i figured they would help a bit.” she said softly.

you grabbed her face, pulling her into a kiss. she dropped the items, hands pushing you against her. she pulled away, your lips only millimeters apart, “read something… years ago.” she mumbled against your lips, “says that orgasms can help with cramps.”

your breath hitched, suddenly feeling a familiar sensation between your legs. she reached down, fingers toying with your clothed clit. you let out a moan against her lips, grinding up against her hand.

“is this okay?” she asked. you nodded. “yes, yes.” you breathed out. Enid moved her hand, slipping it down your shorts. she started to slowly rub your clit in circles, testing the waters.

“more,” you whined desperately. she moved her fingers faster against you, swallowing every moan you released by smashing your lips together once more. your body started to tense up, and Enid knew you were close. she removed her fingers from your clit, but didn’t waste a second in entering two fingers.

you gasped, gripping onto her arm. the tight feeling started to build up in your stomach as she moved her fingers at an impossible pace. a loud moan escaped your lips when you came, your body going limp.

“how was that?” she whispered to you. you looked over at her, still trying to catch your breath. “so good. so, so good.” you answered back. she smiled, leaning down to kiss you once more.

[elendsessor]

i will defend 4a despite its flaws but tbh one thing i really really wish they did was do more with the neutral route ending. as in, i wish that they didn’t have 4a’s story take place during the chalice filling process. continuity was a bit wonky there since i’m assuming that’s when everything takes place due to flynn being considered this big hero (which doesn’t really happen until having to get shit for masakado). and yeah i get apocalypse takes place in an alternate universe but so many of the implied story beats are the same leading up to the events of the game. yet also masakado’s out of the picture oddly.

the dome surrounding tokyo getting destroyed at the end of 4’s neutral route has so much potential. i mean this doesn’t mean demons would disappear entirely—they’re not allergic to sunlight or some shit. even if the surrounding new world doesn’t have any other places for demons to come from, 1. the black samurai’s influence is still implied to be sticking around so people can still turn into demons and 2. they can go start roaming around now that tokyo isn’t sealed off. the yamato perpetual reactor wasn’t destroyed and there’s still an influx of demons that came out of it. just because there’s no more dome doesn’t mean everything’s all hunky dory.

it’s not like they have to completely take out the divine powers stuff just because new setting. (i actually really liked how the main big bad wasn’t entirely the same lucifer v god and his homies thing despite that being present and i wish mainline would do that more often.) heck it leaves room for more potential factions like that. in a few of the sidequests in 4, there’s shown to be some demons that used to be worshipped wanting to regain power since, considering times changed and they aren’t from any dominant religions, they have none. a lot of forgotten deities in general are a result of not just newer religions but to an extent science. gods were the initial reasoning people way back in the day had to explain certain things such as why seasons change, why rain falls, etc. religion itself comes as a way to help fill in the unanswerable questions. even gods and demons from modern religions that were said to be behind certain things have been forgotten because of that. forgotten deities can easily prey on the lack of scientific knowledge people from mikado have, or just straight up want to seek revenge, and with luci and merkabah out of the picture they have a perfect opportunity.

mikado folk learning to get along with people living in tokyo can also be a focus since i mean. some would probably not be accepting at all.

there’s also some stragglers from the ring of gaea that are seen to still be around and they were also shown to have been idolizing a statue of mem aleph. her role in sj was really cool and hey with how sj’s chaos route goes and mem aleph’s motivations of wanting that rules of nature shit that used to exist, it lines up with gaea’s beliefs. i wished that was explored more in general easter egg or not.

idk this is a lot of rambling about potential things they could’ve done. i doubt atlus will ever return to the world of 4 even with the heavy fan following and praise that exists for it, but if they ever did, i’d like something that leans more into that.

[arkus-rhapsode]

So I’ve been having some thoughts about Fire Emblem Engage’s DLC and Their Version of Elyos

So I’ve kind of been sitting on it for a bit, but does anyone else kind of find the alternate world of Elyos more interesting than the original one?

Like okay Fire Emblem has done this to me twice now, where I sorta am coming to terms with the game I played and while there are parts (particularly the plot and world building) that I felt were under baked or not given the attention they probably should’ve, but  ultimately I come to accept that there was likely time issues and that the stuff that I like is outweighing the stuff I didn’t. But then just drops a DLC adventure that introduces a bunch of concepts and lore that feels like it should’ve been the actual plot or could’ve been incorporated into the main plot in some way beyond just bonus content (Yes, the first time was FE3H and Cindered Shadows). 

Look let me just put in this disclaimer right now, I like FE Engage for the most part. I like the characters and general tone of the game. The existence of Fell Xenologue doesn’t negate the enjoyment I had with what I was given, but man did it make me kinda wish I had a full game of this Elyos. 

I’m not saying that because it’s more serious and angsty and that FE needs to be grim and depressing, therefore it’s good or something like that. I just found that something about the FX version of Elyos felt more like a unified world and concept, with a conflict that was more than just “Fell Dragon back so bad stuff happening.” The world of Elyos is mostly a nebulous one, its a very bare skeleton as to keep things simple while also giving us a bunch of cool set pieces and maps while emulating on a bunch of “greatest hits of FE” moments. That is until we get to Brodia and Elusia. Up to the point, I was perfectly fine with accepting that Elyos is just generally a more peaceful place thanks to its structures with a pretty benevolent dragon god and twelves god-like rings. As opposed to places like Tellius, Valentia, or Fodlan, where the inequalities and injustices of their world inform and effect both the plot and characters. But then you get to the conflict with Brodia and Elusia and find out how long its been going on. And how despite Morion seeming like a pretty cool dad, he’s a pretty authoritarian King thinking it okay to conquer other’s land just for their religious beliefs. While Elusia is this kingdom of magic that has cultists and a royal court that plays mechavelian style game of thrones, A “snake den” as Ivy calls it, but are clearly pushing back against invading forces that run on a system of power over everything. 

Like excuse me, this this come from a different game? 

Im not saying that this stuff is bad or anything, but this feels like a completely different game’s worth of material that’s ultimately sacked and shelved because we have to keep going on our ring hunt. And then we just sorta assume everything works out because the Fell Dragon is a dick and that Alear unifies all the lords under them? Problem solved I guess? This was just a very disconnected feeling from the rest of the game. Where Lythos, Fierene, and Solm are all varying levels of chill. I guess it could fit more if it was “Elusia is the one bad guy kingdom and they first attacked Brodia and they’re defending themselves.” But no. They go out of their way to be like, “these two kingdoms fight with each other over stuff that goes beyond Emblems.” 

Then we get to the Elyos of the Fell Xenologue and yes, the general atmosphere is very dour and somber. But this clearly hostile world where all four lands are suspicious and willing to let the others die for their safety, feels a lot more connected. Plus, in this world, we have the context for the fact they were all unified once so now their breakdown after the death of the divine dragon and the balance of power of each land having a single Emblem, but all of them wanting the other for a different reason (like Brodia wanting it for security or Elusia wanting it for the divine dragon) feels a lot more cohesive and uniform. There’s even some stuff that can be fascinating like the Fell Dragons being born as twins. Imagine if Alear found out they were the Fell Dragon child by meeting their twin? I initially thought the twist of FX was going to be the one summoning the corrupted was Red Alear and in this world while Divine Alear died, as the child of Sombron and a fell dragon, they had a twin.

Its not just the world, but also to say some of its characters. The Four Winds felt a lot more organically included into the story with their introductions, unlike how Engage basically kept handing you three characters at a time and only really characterizing the lord that was part of them. People like the Yunaka chapter, because its just a focus on Yunaka. The map and small chapter about her serve as both a good impression of her and makes the player want to utilize her skills through gameplay. There are a bunch of characters who ended up becoming my favs like Lapis and Merrin, but their intros are really just standing there as their lord character gets the focus of that chapter, The Four Winds feel much closer to Yunaka with you only really getting one per country. So you don’t just get all four of them at once, and then when you have all four you have a pretty good idea of their dynamic and who they are. 

That’s not to say FX is without its problems. Like yeah I don’t think the Emblems being previous characters from other games doesn’t really factor into the plot. And while I like the Alternate Universe Royals, their personalities and pasts are just glimpses, not really fully fleshed out. But I’d still argue it did some stuff with that was more unique than in Engage like the corrupted Emblems actually able to talk and have some level of awareness even when they’re red. And something like Emblem Veronica actually being weaved in really well with the pacifist Diamant just using the power to summon heroes from other world so he doesn’t need to fight to be cool implementations of the Emblem. There was also just less Emblems which kinda made them seem more special and not just “they can get stolen from a vault.” And yes the Alternate Royals are only briefly seen, but I still think there is ideas and depth there that can be built upon.

And look, I get that Fell Xenologue is ultimately just a DLC episode. Its seven chapters with concepts that are not completely explored and exists to be a complete story that can be done and dusted with no real consequence for the actually main game plot. But again, I just felt very compelled by the plot that we got and wanna kinda see a whole game with a similar setting or premise. 

If you made it this far, I want to reiterate, I like Elyos of the main game just fine. I just felt as though the Fell Xenologue introduced me to a type of Elyos that could’ve been more interesting than the one we got. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some of these ideas being incorporated into the Engage world or even potentially in future installments of the franchise. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while.

[kinetic-elaboration]

February 14: The Expanse 1x05

Halfway done with The Expanse S1. I can definitely see it coming together… I think. I felt like this episode had a lot of pretty explicit extra exposition and summarizing going on, and in some ways felt more like an inflection point than anything. But the amount of explaining also sort of reminded me that I have not been really actively trying to follow anything so much as just going along for the ride.

I do find it funny that the former-Canterbury crew’s plotline for fully half the season has just been going from ship to ship and blowing stuff up accidentally. Are they the targets? Are they in the wrong place at the wrong time, as seems to be the case? Second one sure is a funny possibility.

I enjoyed seeing more of Ceres again, as it feels like it’s been a bit since we spent a significant amount of time there. I feel like the Earth/UN stories are for really bird’s-eye-view understandings of the political situation, the now-Rocinante crew stories are for (attempts at?) tense, individual-focused, adventure storylines, and the Ceres stuff is like in the middle. There’s a familiar noir-detective story but also a lot of worldbuilding about the political situation, and all of it connects to the stories on the other ends of the spectrum, and I think it’s a good balance.

As far as following all the specifics… I kind of figured early on that this show was going to require more than one watching to really properly follow, so the main things I’m looking for in this go-round are a viewing experience that I enjoy enough to want to come back for a re-watch and, by the end of the season, something that basically feels like it makes sense, regardless of whether I followed every detail or picked up on every specific of it.

And so far, it’s been good, it’s been fun. I really, really, really love the world building. Like worst case scenario and it’s all ultimately just Vibes and no coherent plot, I am enjoying the complex interplay of the various locations and the detail given to the political intrigue and so on.

I’m sort of starting to warm to the Rocinante crew as well, especially Amos for some reason? I don’t know, there was just something very funny about him in this episode, like ‘I knew a woman named [Workhorse], she was good to me’? Okay, bro. And Naomi just scoffing, relatable as hell.

The Anderson Station story was extremely sad, but I thought it was well done except that it was a little weird to be introduced to that back story in the same episode as we first see Fred Johnson himself. Like I basically figured out exactly what would happen from the end of the first scene with Anderson Station because I recognized his voice, plus the placement of the scenes was like…duh. So I knew he’d kill them all and it was just a question of how depressed I’d be about it. I sort of feel like that back story should have been in an earlier episode—or maybe even a later one? I don’t know.

 I decided today that I really like the designs of these ships and space stations. All the sets and clothing and tattoos and stuff are very cool; they did a good job.

The whole concept of a future-Earth that’s recognized as such a beautiful, unique, wonderful place that should be cherished and protected, especially as seen in contrast to alternative places humans might someday live, like space stations or ships or other planets, is sooooooooooooo my kink, you don’t even know. So I’ve also been digging how hard this show goes in on that theme. I don’t know if the environmentalist message is on purpose (the anti-colonial anti-capitalist message sure is, I assume) but I see it regardless.

[dreaminonao3]

DSS/Darcy - better than sex brownies

You're My Universe Now (AO3)

Once Darcy had received word that the Guardians had saved the Multiverse once again and were heading home safe and sound, she was free to stop worrying and get on with her afternoon. It’s the waiting that drives me up the wall, she thought as she went into the kitchen and got the ingredients for brownies together. Her boyfriend and their friends meant the world to her and she hated the thought of anything happening to them that magic or an improvised bandage couldn’t fix.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now – they’ve been a team for over a year and have saved the Multiverse’s hide more times than I can count, but still, every time they leave, I know there’s a strong chance at least one of them might not come back. I don’t know what I’d do without Stephen there beside me.

She had just put the brownies in the oven when her boyfriend appeared in the kitchen. Stephen was covered in dirt, sweat, and some black liquid that smelled absolutely foul but he gave her a relieved and happy smile when their eyes met. “I know the protocol,” he said. “‘Shower first, then hug,’ I just couldn’t wait to see your face.”

Darcy grinned back. “I’m just as happy to see you’re back, Stephen, but I’m not touching you with a ten-foot pole until you wash off whatever the heck that black stuff is.”

“Ichor and yes, I don’t want to touch you like this either.” He saw the mixing bowl on the counter then asked hopefully, “Brownies?”

She smirked. “You’ll see when you’re presentable again.”

Stephen chuckled. “Keeping me in suspense, got it.” He headed for the door.

“And don’t forget to clean out the shower stall when you’re done,” she called out after him.

*

Stephen looked himself over in the mirror one last time. The black jeans and black button-down shirt was an outfit he had worn countless times since he came to live with Darcy but he knew it was her favorite and he wanted to look his absolute best. Can’t ask her to marry me while I’m looking like a slob.

He held up his palm and the black velvet ring box appeared then he opened it to reveal the ring – a round amethyst in a platinum ring with smaller alternating amethysts and diamonds channel-set in the band itself. The amethysts were all that remained of his pocket universe and it meant everything to him that she would wear them always. Of course, that’s assuming she’ll say yes.

He heard Christine’s voice in his head, something he hadn’t heard in a long time. You know she’ll say yes, Stephen. All you have to do is ask her. Even though she was only in his imagination, she sounded happy for him and that gave him the courage he needed.

In the kitchen, he found Darcy sitting on the counter, her feet not touching the floor as she flipped through her newest cookbook, the brownies cooling on the rack beside her. A quick glance at the discarded caramel wrappers in the trash told him exactly what kind of brownies they were.

“Should I be insulted that you made Better Than Sex Brownies again?” he asked jokingly as he approached her.

“Calling them Better Than Sex With Anyone Except My Boyfriend Brownies would be a bit of a mouthful, don’t you think?” she asked as she set aside the cookbook then grinned at him, spreading her legs just wide enough for him to step in between them.

“We can debate the name later,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her. “Right now, I have something to ask you.”

Darcy smirked. “No, you can’t cut them until they’re cool, you know that.”

Stephen rolled his eyes playfully. “Not that.”

She must have seen something in his eyes that made her turn serious. “What is it, Stephen?”

“Are you happy, Darcy?” he asked softly. “With me, that is?”

She frowned in confusion. “Of course I am. If I’m not showing it enough-”

“It’s not that,” he cut in. “You show me in so many ways but-”

“But what?”

“Is it the kind of happiness that you think can last forever?” He let go of her to take the ring box out of his pocket. “Because that’s how long I want to be with you, Darcy Lewis.” He opened the box and took out the ring. “Will you marry me?”

She stared at him then at the ring. “Wait, is that what’s left of your universe?”

“You’re my universe now, sweetheart – I thought it was appropriate.” He laughed weakly. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Stephen Strange, I could spend eternity with you and it still wouldn’t be long enough.” She smiled softly. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” Then she grinned. “Now, put that ring on my finger and take me to bed, the brownies can wait.”

He grinned back, delighted. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

[stcrfeesh]

off the precipice (懸崖勒馬)

author's note

This author’s note is going to be a little lengthy, so sit back and grab a snack or something. I hope you’d stay to read this first—or not. I’ll be leaving a compressed TLDR version below anyway if that’s more to your liking and convenience. But please do read either version before proceeding further.

An AU (Alternative Universe) is a beloved genre in fanfiction—or really, just a beloved genre in any type of fanwork in general. It allows fans to consume their favourite media in the most creative of ways. Most importantly, it allows them to see their comfort characters assume roles outside canon storylines.

Now, here’s where the purpose of my author’s note begins;

If you’ve read all the tags (I hope you did), you’ll see that this fic is tagged as two things—an AU and canon divergent. The trouble many fan content creators face when creating something that falls under these categories is that the faithfulness of their work to the original material gets questioned. The lines between canon and something “I literally just made up” get really blurred it might as well not exist. To an extent, it is saddening—especially in cases where the things you loved about the original material get erased completely. But, there is also a certain beauty in blurred lines. We are able to create things the way we want to perceive them. The way we want to consume them.

After all, aren’t all types of fanwork self-indulgent?

In this Espionage (Spy) AU of mine, I have and am trying my best to be as faithful to certain vital story elements of Genshin Impact’s canon universe as I can, but at the same time, I’m just fucking around with what I deem would be fun to write. That said, this story will mostly take place in a kind of modern Liyue.

This version of Liyue is closely similar to that of Shanghai (a very real place located in China) during the early 20th century. I think it’s a very cool time point, and the culture of that era will fit the aesthetic of this AU best. And because I suck at writing things set in even more modern times.

So, imagine if Liyue glimmered not in lanterns, but in the neon lights of nightclubs, casinos, and bars. A bustling Liyue in the mornings; merchants and customers bargaining on the streets. Trams pass by, cars go to and from their destinations, and rickshaw pullers walk around in search of passengers. Then, the glittering nightlife of Liyue; lights painting the dark in a myriad of colours, the music from the grand clubs, and laughter echoing in the streets.

Another thing I intend to get across in this note is why this fic is tagged as explicit. Please do know that it isn’t just because of some funky sex scene (assuming I do write one). There will be violence and many other things that might be a little too triggering and inappropriate for younger audiences. Though, worry not, as I will not go into too much detail that it becomes gore-y. By tagging this as explicit, I want everyone to know that I am going to fuck this shit up one way or another so please look away if that’s not your cup of tea. This also means that I will not be placing trigger warnings on each chapter. So, always expect one of the content warnings to show up.

Lastly, as always, all my works are self-indulgent. I write this for myself and for the handful of my friends who’ve been subjected to listening to my brainrots. If, however, you find yourself here, reading and liking it, then thank you so much! I hope you look forward to more. If you do not like what I’m writing though, then there’s a glowing exit sign right beside the door (close tab), and you may see yourself out—and I mean that in the least rude way, I can express it through text.

That’s basically it, really.

TLDR; I’m going to fuck with canon and do funny things because this is canon divergent and an AU so please don’t come for my ass. There are no chapter warnings. All warnings will be noted down below and might be subject to change. Please look at that first. Thank you.

Content Warnings: Profanities, Violence, War, Death, Murder, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassination Plot(s), Mithridatism, Self-poisoning, Self-harm, Suggestive Content, Eventual Smut (Maybe, but will be separated from the main fic).

MASTERLIST  |  Prologue

[wander-wren]

ask and ye shall receive

Wren’s AO3 Tagging Guide

first, ofc, disclaimer that you can do whatever you want forever and i can’t stop you. you don’t have to listen to anything i say. these are just my thoughts from several years of using ao3 and observing the community.

One: Tag Order

this is probably the least important thing on this list, hence why it’s going first. this is just purely my opinion, but i like a little neatly-ordered set of tags.

i like to start with the big “genre” tags like “Angst” and “Alternate Universe - Fantasy.” then i move into tags about my plot, which might be “Sleep Deprivation” or “Kidnapping.” then i’ll add other important notes and content warnings, like “[Character] Bashing” or “Dubious Consent.”

finally we get to what i call “flavor tags” because they don’t have a name, i don’t think. these are things like “[Character] is a Ray of Sunshine” and “Feral [Character].” they’re flavor tags because they don’t say a lot about the story and people rarely use them to filter works, so they’re just for flavor. you can also use them earlier as plot tags or the like, for example “Insecure [Character]” if the fic revolves around their insecurity. use these tags sparingly, though. anytime i see a fic with more than 3-4 of them i’m immediately less inclined to read it.

don’t go look at my fics to see if i follow this advice. it’s an ideal i hold in my head, but ao3 tags are annoying to edit and i am forgetful, but i think you can usually see i’m going for some kind of organization.

Two: Freeform and Canonical Tags

so, ao3 has a lot of tags in its system that are linked to other tags and can be filtered on and come up in autofill. these are your canonicals. however, you can always write whatever your heart desires in the tag field and it will work. those tags are freeform.

please do not use a freeform tag when a canonical exists. yes, tag wranglers catch some of them, so the filtering system may work, but sometimes they don’t and also, it makes the tags harder to read. don’t write “t4t [ship],” just put the pairing in the relationship tags and include “Trans [Character]” for each of them.

if there isn’t a canonical tag for something you want to add, though, you should write it in! tag wranglers create canonical tags based on their popularity, so you’re helping your fandom by doing that.

don’t overuse the freeform tags for silly little comments either. it’s fun to include 1-3, but more than that and it gets hard to parse and a little annoying. you should use them to clarify your canonical tags, though, for example: “Domestic Violence” “not between main pairing dw.” you’re not required to do that, but it can be helpful.

some more general tagging “donts”: dont censor trigger warnings with slashes or asterisks. don’t put tw: before the warning. don’t put hashtags before your tags. don’t try to include multiple tags in one tag. i assume all of these behaviors came from other sites (ahem. tiktok), but you don’t need them on ao3.

finally, use canonical tags correctly as much as possible. if you’ve hung around this blog a while or even read my intro post or my ao3, you’ll know i like some good D/s fic. did you know that the “Humiliation” tag is connected to the broader “BDSM” tag? sometimes the most random fics come up in my filtering and it’s fun to figure out which tag got it caught. also people who tag “Dominant/Submissive [Character]” when they just mean one character is aggressive or strong-willed. this isn’t a super big deal and it’s more a quirk of the system than anyone’s fault, but do a little thinking about the actual meaning of canonical tags sometimes. this note was largely an excuse to tell you all about the tag wrangling system tho because it’s very cool to me.

ALSO, please please please stop tagging phobias and the like as trigger warnings. if your fic has spiders, tag “Spiders.” if your fic features a character with a terrible fear of spiders, tag “Arachnophobia.” do not tag “Arachnophobia” if you want to warn people that there are spiders! god! i hate this one so much i’m sorry.

Three: Overtagging vs Undertagging

ao3 is plagued with a history of overtagged fics. so much so that one of them got the site policy change so there is a 75 tag limit.

overtagging fics can hurt your visibility/engagement, as many people will simply scroll past a huge wall of tags in annoyance. it might also get your fic hidden in filters that it doesn’t belong in; for example, if someone hates a particular character, and they only appear for a paragraph in your fic but you tagged them anyway, your fic might get excluded from that search.

even if a reader clicks on your fic looking for a specific trope, character, or pairing, if it only plays a minor role in the story they’re likely to back right out.

on the other hand, undertagging can hurt you in the same way. not tagging “Sickfic” when your fic is about a sick character might mean you lose potential readers who are searching that tag. not tagging tropes and warnings correctly can also lead to readers leaving the fic when they get blindsided. additionally, both over and undertagging can give the impression that you don’t know what you’re doing on ao3, which creates doubt about your fic writing abilities. unfair? probably. but true.

the rule of thumb i use for tagging is twofold. i ask, “if someone was looking to read this trope, would they be disappointed in this fic?” and “would a person be upset if this trope caught them by surprise in this fic?”

sometimes, especially with dark tropes, these questions need to be asked for the same tag. on the one hand, someone tromping through the “Eating Disorders” tag on purpose might be frustrated if it only comes up briefly in the fic, while someone who is triggered by that content might get upset if taken by surprise by it. both sides are valid.

if you’re unsure, you can tag “Additional Warnings In Authors Note” and write that there are minor mentions of an eating disorder, just to cover your bases. if you don’t want to warn for something at all for spoiler reasons, make sure you use “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings.”

another good rule of thumb is to keep your tag use proportional to the length of your fic. i’m equally as likely to scroll past a 300k fic with 5 tags as i am a 7k fic with 50 tags. first, because it’s impossible to tell what might be in either fic, either because there’s no tags or because there’s so many there’s no telling which are relevant. second, again, because it tells me you don’t know what you’re doing. looking up similar fics to yours and stealing their tags is never a bad idea!

The End

that’s all! let me know if you think i missed anything or got something wrong. and again, tag however you want, i’m not your mom. this is just a mix of how i tag things and what annoys me when i see it on ao3.

i may or may not have just spent 40 minutes pacing in my hallway and mentally composing the perfect guidelines for ao3 tagging (my opinion), so if anyone wants to see me write that??

[youchangedmedean]

Why Dean’s Heaven Outfit is so Cursed

You may have seen my previous post about why Dean’s outfit in heaven is so cursed, but since then I have spotted even more.

According to Jared at the Virtual Con after 15x20 aired when asked ‘Were any lines added or ad libbed by you two [Jared and Jensen]?’ (starts at 29:28 timestamp)

... So, when we’re on that bridge and uh, and Dean says, “Heya Sammy” and then it cuts to Sam, and I’m dressed like, as best I could, like uh like the pilot with Dean, y’know. ...

So from this, we know that Sam on the bridge in 15x20 was supposed to be dressed like the pilot. I infer that Dean was also supposed to be dressed like the pilot but based on the wording it’s possible that’s not what he meant. As soon as we got BTS pics from the last day on set however, we all pointed out that they were dressed like the pilot but there is a difference.

So what did Dean wear in the pilot? He had on 2 different outfits. First a dark jacket and a red shirt.

After Dean gets covered in mud, he changes into a denim shirt and John’s leather jacket.

Another thing to note is that both Sam and Dean wear sneakers in the pilot. No boots for Dean.

So it looks like for Dean in 15x20, the heaven outfit is based on outfit 1 with the dark jacket, plain red shirt and jeans.

Dean consistently has plain red shirts through the seasons and continues to wear the dark jacket until 9x03 so I would bet that the very jacket was sitting in storage until s15.

Something to note is that while Sam is in a virtually identical outfit in 15x20 and the pilot, Dean is not. They must have had to source Sam’s outfit specifically for this. Sam does wear a hoodie and a beige jacket in later seasons so they could have built it out of Sam’s wardrobe but they chose not to. He does not wear these exact clothes at any other point in the series apart from in Heaven. Dean’s Heaven outfit is just made out of his clothing from later in the series. They both wore sneakers in the pilot but in Heaven Dean still has his boots while Sam is wearing sneakers.

Compare:

If I was building Dean’s heaven outfit out of later seasons outfits, I would have chosen his plain red shirt (note: this is not the Demon!Dean/MoC!Dean shirt, it is a different one).

By the later seasons, Dean doesn’t actually wear dark dark jackets much. His only black jacket in s15 was this denim one which he has had since 10x04:

But the wardrobe department decided not to go for these and instead decided on cursed items instead.

So what was Dean wearing in Heaven?

The Shirt

Now this shirt is just plain cursed. This is only seen at 2 other points in the whole series, and it was a new one for s15. 

We first see it in 15x04 Atomic Monsters for the Chuck AU where Lucifer!Sam kills Dean. Directed by Mr Jensen Ackles himself.

Thanks to him, we also get a good look at the shirt

So this is the first time we ever see this shirt and its for a Chuck AU where Sam kills Dean.

The second time we see it, its in 15x13 and this is another cursed appearance. It is worn by Huntercorp!Dean while pretending to be our Dean in the bunker.

And why was Huntercorp!Dean there at all? Because Chuck was destroying worlds.

When AU!Dean leaves the bunker, there is an exchange that is a bit cursed.

Huntercorp!DEAN: Oh, uh, you think we could keep the flannel shirts?

DEAN: No.

So the shirt actually gets a mention by Huntercorp!Dean.

What we see here is that this shirt is NEVER worn by our Dean. It is worn by a Chuck AU Dean and Huntercorp!Dean fleeing a world Chuck had destroyed while pretending to be our Dean.

We never see our Dean wear this shit until Heaven which seems like an odd choice.

Dean also doesn’t normally wear red and black plaid shirt. In fact, the previous one he had has an interesting history as pointed out by @wigglebox​ when we were discussing it.

It is first seen in 12x21 and he continues to wear it into 12x23 when Dean has to go into Mary’s mind.

We then see it again and for the last time in 13x16 Scoobynatural.

Both of these episodes are sort of AU episodes where he’s venturing into another character’s mind or heading into Scooby-Doo world.

So both Dean’s black and red plaid shirts have a cursed history relating things not being real and for this specific shirt, AUs. They could have chosen a plain red shirt almost identical to the pilot but they chose not to.

The Jacket

Dean has this jacket for a long time. He has a blue one and a black one. This black jacket has been around since s9 and gets worn a fair bit. On the whole, it doesn’t have a very happy history, its first worn for Kevin’s funeral in 9x10 and is worn after Claire is bitten by a Werewolf in 12x16.

However, the most notable thing about this jacket is what should have been it’s demise.

Dean is wearing it in 13x23 when he fights Lucifer and AU!Michael takes over his body.

At the end of the episode, we see that Michael has changed dean’s clothes and presumably ditched them somewhere.

Dean comes back at the end of 14x02 wearing Michael’s clothes. He arrives back at the bunker in 14x03 and changes into Dean clothes but is missing his watch for the whole episode, presumably because Michael ditched it. The denim shirt Dean wears in 13x23 is never seen again (yes, I have watched s14 and s15 just to check and have spreadsheets for Dean’s outfits!). His boots are back in 14x03 but I suppose you could argue he had multiple pairs.

We are left to assume that the jacket is also gone (and it really should be gone) but it makes a miraculous reappearance in 14x13 Lebanon.

Now this episode is an odd episode. They get their Dad back by messing up time, Cas doesn’t know them until they reset it back again. The shirt in this episode is also notable and I will write a post on it soon. So again, we have part of Dean’s heaven outfit connecting to alternative timelines where it really shouldn’t be at all.

BUT IT GETS WORSE EVERYONE!

This jacket appears at just one other point in s15. Now if you had to pick the most cursed of cursed times to put it where would you put it on Dean?

The Vamp Chuck future in 15x09 where Sam and Dean die as vampires.

So this jacket should have disappeared in 13x23 but reappears for an episode where time is altered in 14x13 and when Chuck is showing Sam the future in 15x09 if they ‘win’ and they die as vampires. Dean is then killed on a vampire hunt in 15x20 and ends up wearing this jacket in Heaven. Cool, cool.

This jacket becomes connected to our Dean but in altered timelines and worlds while the shirt is connected to alternative Deans. Both the shirt and the jacket have direct connections to Chuck.

So we see Dean in Heaven wearing this cursed outfit drinking cursed El Sol beer with the same cursed monkey from 14x13 Lebanon (see above, it was in the roadhouse too).

This is not an outfit that screams happy. This is not an outfit that screams Sam and Dean won. This is an outfit that seems to scream Chuck won. 

I guess we’ll just have to wait until Jackles manages to get a continuation...

One final odd thing to note. We all remember Jensen’s video posted before the finale when he was dressing up as Dean for the last time “at least for now”. Well he wasn’t actually wearing the outfit Dean wore in Heaven although all the Heaven scenes were shot on the last day of filming, the 10th of September.

He was wearing the Heaven plaid shirt, but not the Heaven Jacket. It was Dean’s black denim jacket I pointed out earlier. If you look it has seams that the Heaven Jacket doesn’t and the pocket flaps are a different shape.

I have gone through all the Heaven scenes and he is wearing the Heaven jacket in all of them. But I can’t think of a reason why on a hot day in September when Jensen is getting changed into costume he would have a different one of Dean’s jackets on over the shirt he needs to wear for the scenes.

[verdemoth]

Fallen London (and etc) worldbuilding headcanon: Neath Sign Language

I’ve rambled about this idea on discord before but i’m thinking about it again so i’ll rehash the deal here. l’m thinking abt disability in the setting of Fallen London and how cool sign languages are so i liked the idea of culture in the Neath having developed a distinct manual language.

my perspective comes from ASL classes (not fluent, it’s been years since then) and some independent background research on sign languages in general when i fixated on this topic so i can’t go in depth about the actual mechanics of the language because it is not even based on ASL and i am not up to the task of writing a manual conlang as cool as that would be. Also it’s hard to research what it might have in common with extant sign languages in our world because detailed records earlier than the 19th century are really rare, but also this is MY fantastical alternate history fixation and I get to chose the accessibility!!! so this is a preface that some headcanons i have may not have a whole lot of basis in the real world. it’s not *implausible* because deaf people have existed since forever and there have been Some forms of gestural communication since 5th century BC. in my version of history Deaf communities get to have more influence than they have irl

anyway I called it Neath (Neathian?) Tactile Sign Langage, or NTSL. The tactile bit is relevant because it was for the most part developed underground where there are few natural light sources. It’s versatile, the tactile and visual elements complement each other but aren’t both required to be understood. Like ASL and i assume most other sign languages it does have a reliance on facial cues to convey tone as vocal speech does on its own, but there’s probably an equivalent for solely tactile sign? I don’t have an immediate idea but I’m sure there would be some way of doing so.

NTSL predates Fallen London and actually any records of modern sign we know of. The main bulk of the language was derived from Fourth City citizens, though in the time it’s had to develop since the 13th century it’s very much become its own distinct language and does not resemble modern Mongolian Sign Language at all. NTSL cannot be understood by knowing another sign language as it’s not closely related to any and may have entirely distinct roots to the most common ones? Even the ones that have any relation it would be like assuming that because you know English you can understand something like Greenlandic Norse. Different ball game all together. Anyway since London’s fall there’s been a little bit of influence from British Sign Language but mostly just slang and a few other loanwords.

And speaking of BSL! London. If I remember right, Fallen London the city canonically is not a fan of languages that are not English (i’m certain i recall that being stated outright but i don’t remember which game or where). I think that extends even to BSL but it is used when ‘necessary’ and seen as preferable to other forms of sign. In the modern Neath, NTSL in London is associated with commoners and ‘foreigners’, the later usually being people from communities out in the Unterzee. Because NTSL sees a lot of use out there! In the Khanate and Tomb Colonies especially it is common as a second (or first!) language, and it’s useful enough for zailors that most pick it up and spread awareness and practice of the language. There are different regional dialects of the language. Multiple islands and continents, they’re bound to develop their own variations. Some are more cross compatible than others but the language barrier isn’t Too large, not enough to be separate languages

In the Sunless Skies timeline, NTSL also crosses the Avid Horizon! It has perhaps become even more common among independent skyfarers. On any crew you’re basically guaranteed to get several people with a conversational level of fluency, regardless of whether they’re deaf or hearing. The Reach leans more into visual NTSL as the light of the sun allows communication at a greater distance. Eleutheria *extensively* relies upon the tactile variant. Most of Albion still uses BSL

[cheesey-rice]

Theory on the Soul in Deltarune. (Warning for spoilers on all routes.)

In case you didn't know already, there are two routes in the new Deltarune chapter. I think each one gives us a different perspective on Kris's motivations and their relationship with the soul that inhabits them.

I think the important thing that underpins my take on the game is assuming that the two other lighters who accompany you in the game, Noelle and Susie, are used to voice perspectives that Kris as a silent protagonist might share but be unable to express. This is a common tool used in silent protagonist RPGs, but if you don't agree with it my take might not hold much water for you.

I'll start out by talking about a fairly regular pacifist playthrough of this part. The main scene I'd like to discuss is the one at the end, where it is discussed that opening a dark fountain could bring about the Roaring.

Because it's pretty obvious that we are to think Kris is the "Knight" sneaking off to create these dark fountains with their knife, some people think that they intend to bring about the Roaring. I think their intentions are far less malicious than such a theory assumes.

Because the main thing is that we know that Kris as a character cares about the people in their life. They have a loving relationship with their family and take care of their friends automatically without us prompting them. When Susie consistently alludes to wanting to stay friends with Kris throughout the pacifist rounds, I assume these feelings are reciprocated. I also assume that most of the feelings Susie expresses about the dark world, that it's cool and fun and easier than the real world, are also feelings felt by Kris.

There's also another layer we can see to Kris's feelings about the dark world that comes from their own reactions. We know that Kris is a weird kid in real life, a lonely kid who looks up to their older brother and doesn't have any trophies on their wall like he does. In the dark world, Kris does get trophies on their wall in the room Ralsei makes for them. In the dark world, Kris is a confident, accomplished leader who can make as many friends as they want to thanks to help and guidance from a goat who is very similar to their older brother who they can't contact because of the internet currently.

It isn't really a ground breaking conclusion to say that Kris probably likes the dark world just as much as Susie does, as she talks only of how she wants to go back and have another adventure. Because Kris is the one making the dark fountains, one can see that the worlds are made for them. Made for their adventure with friends in a world makebelieved out of all their childhood toys and imaginings.

We also know that Kris has the ability to walk around, slash tires, eat pies, and make dark fountains without any input from us at all. They don't need us for that and have the ability to take us out whenever they want.

So if the theory that they resent the soul that controls their actions held true, why would we still be in control? Why would they choose to let us do that?

This is where it's important to consider Noelle in the alternate route, whose inner feelings we are often privy to due to Kris's strong understanding of her from childhood.

The alternate route is activated by forcing Noelle to kill people in the dark world. At one point, Noelle asks herself why she's following Kris's commands when they're asking her to do such awful things. The conclusion that she draws is, "but I keep getting stronger... They're just trying to make me stronger."

If this is the reason Noelle obeys Kris, then perhaps in turn we can extrapolate that this is the reason Kris obeys us.

Because we get results.

No matter which ending you get, Kris had an adventure, became stronger, defeated enemies it would have been impossible to go up against without us.

We also see that in scenes where we don't help Kris, where we aren't in control, they often suffer at the hands of these enemies. How Susie hit then against the locker in the first game, howthe King almost strikes them down after they help Susie, how Spamton would have killed them all alone in the basement if their friends hadn't interceded.

Kris wants to be cool and strong and have a fun adventure. For that reason, they are relying on another, external force to make their choices for them. To make choices that will matter.

In the Pacifist run, Kris gets their wish. A fun adventure with their friends where no one has to get hurt. Kris can just sit back and enjoy as a friendly dark power holds their hand through the whole thing.

In the alternate route, however, we see the start of a darker path. One where the dark power with hold over Kris makes malevolent choices that make them question themselves. Is this really the right thing?

We see this hesitation in how other characters react to Kris in this route. After Kris and Noelle kill Bertly, Susie notes that Kris's expression seems to be off some how. That something seems wrong with them, even offering to heal them because of it. Later on, Noelle notes that she sees some other voice coming out of Kris, something scary that she needs to investigate, foreshadowing a continuation of this plot in later chapters.

Kris experiences some amount of turmoil due to the actions of the player. But they still open the dark fountain and put the soul back into themselves later.

How do they justify that to themselves?

Think about Yoshi. If you talk to Garrison's descendent at his grave, they tell you that Kris drops Yoshi into the pit on purpose to complete a level in the video game. In video games Kris is already the kind of player that can distance themselves from necessary sacrifices.

Maybe they justify it to themselves the same way Noelle does at first. It's in the dark world, things are different there, it doesn't matter, it's not real. I'm still getting stronger. Isn't this what I wanted? Who cares if Berdley is dead, he sucked anyway, let's close our eyes and not even look so toby doesn't have to draw the sprite when we hide his body in the wire closet.

Perhaps the resign themselves to it, acclimate to it, become numb to the traumatic event in order to justify carrying on, like Flower or Chara in Undertale might be assumed to on a genocide run.

Because that's what having the soul allows them to do. It allows them to carry on.

On the notion of Noelle carrying on her investigation, it would be interesting to me if the endgame of deltarune turned out to be a fight where all the friends whose levels you raised by killing turn on you and try to either a) save Kris from you, or b) stop a Kris who is too far gone into apathy. That ending would seem sort of karmic to me so I would enjoy seeing it. I think a battle where you play as Kris but try to make them lose to their friends in a pacifist run ending might be interesting too seeing as they are the "knight" and all and are being set up as the big bad.

So basically my actual theorizing boils down to a) on pacifist run you're like Kris's replacement older sibling cajoling them into making friends on a little video game adventure and they're trying so hard to make you stay, or b) you take the alternate route and are just kind of traumatizing Kris into thinking murder is ok if they get to be cool and have fun adventures.

I also have some things to say about how Ralsei takes on Asriel's place of influencing Kris to experience empathy and when you follow those actions Kris is reminded of their big brother who they love and how the alternate route makes Kris cut themselves off from that empathetic power as part of maintaining their own self justifications but I should just make a different post if I'm gonna talk about that.

TLDR; Kris just wants to have a fun adventure like everyone else, I don't think they resent our control but are instead actively seeking it out to make their life easier.

[freetobeafcknriot]

slowly making my way through jake's panel and not even a minute in he's already going all out with innuendos lmfao i love him. i'm gonna use bullet points.

he's mentioned the odd couple spin-off for michael and adam again when someone asked him what kind of uncles michael and adam would have been. his reply: “fancy cool cute uncles. [...] i wish they were my uncles. i'm my own uncle!” aw ♡

okay i love this one, so, Q: “adam as a character kind of had a lot of mistrust with people and kind of betrayals, like during season 5 or when he came back. which character do you think he would punch hardest in the face?” jake: “i was gonna say god! i think that’s fair, i think he’s so close to michael that he’d be like, ‘Hey! Asshole! You mess with my ‘‘uncle-buddy’’, you mess with me.’ uh, yeah i think he’d punch chuck in the face real hard and he would have michael’s power when he did it. he’d be super pissed, like—” [insert onomatopoeic sound idk how to convey lol] 

oh someone asked him a neat thing-y (no it’s not a/b/o territory yet) !  Q: “if you were to write a supernatural story set in an alternate universe when everyone is human, who’s gonna get together, how raunchy is it, like—“ jake: “you shouldn’t use my imagination, you said it’s an alternate universe, which set me up and i was like going places. but they have to be human?” Q: “oh, they don’t have to, if you really don’t want them to be human, you’ve got other ideas. i’m not saying—“ jake: “you’re good! [...] i think we can piggyback on the odd couple sitcom idea, i think it’s definitely the way to go and yeah, you bet your butt it’s gonna be raunchy. the whole pitch— that’s my whole pitch, like, much like my panels the show’s a little horny. not inappropriately sooo! but we’re gonna ride the line a little, alright? Gotta Make Some Things Canon! yeah, so it would be— and as far as our physical form, hhm! we should be something. we should have tails or something. i’m not joking, i’m Not going There, stop saying that. [moment of silence] that’s it! :D” OKAY YOU MENACE.

off topic but i want the confidence of the girl who greeted him by saying 'hi bestie! :)'

anyway she asked him which one of his line would benefit from the f-word in his opinion and he ended up going with "since when do we get what we fucking want deserve," LITERALLY YEAH.

he got asked which character was more fun to play — a demigod and an archangel — and on one hand jake said michael never got to fly (we were robbed for that. assuming that he wouldn't have turned out like the au!michael vs lucifer mid-air fight lol) whilst luke did, but on the other hand he played two people in the same scene and that was also a lot of fun. "i got to work with my favorite actor, scene parter, he made me better i think i made him better," LMFAO

Q: "i was just wondering how you feel about adam being left behind in lucifer's cage, especially with how often dean and same are trying to save each other and then they just kind of rushed right past adam." jake: "yeah it's pretty shitty! it's a Pretty Shitty thing to do—forget about your brother. however, I Think the time spent between adam and michael was not wasted..." i'm sorry what. "and i honestly think the relationship— uh, i joked about wanting to be run over [by a bus. it's a joke about his coming back before s15 happened lol], but it was really fun to explore that close relationship that they had. i think that's like, it was really a unique thing to explore; this bond that was created, the fact they probably went insane together and then like... was each other's therapist. like got a grip on reality again. yeah, pretty messed up. appreciate it."

Q: "if you had a choice, what hair color would michael and adam dye their hair?" it's so funny :'D jake's answer is: pink mohawk for adam, and michael would probably just dye his hair darker. like the deepest back that's not available to humans.

Q: "what album or artist do you think adam would love, like, his favorite movie?" jake.exe has stopped working lol he didn't know right away so he asked the fan and she said she's a taylor swift fan, "so i think he's a sucker for Red," and jake agreed and added that, "adam thought he liked 1989 but then Red came out," then thought about it and said it would be a music compilation from '1998 reunion - now that's what i call music'.

... y'all, A/B/O time has come lol

LE CHAOS.

HIS FACE.

THE "you're welcomeeeeee," IN THE CROWD.

okay. i refuse to transcribe everything, but the question was about michael and adam's secondary genders lol. jake: "here's the thing! i hadn't A Clue what [stnads] meant when she—michelle sent that to me. i googled it. i took that bite from the apple of knowledge, and now i cannot take the taste out of my mouth. so, yeah she sent it to me for approval, she said, 'hey what d'you think?' and i was like, 'ehm, let me look this up,' and then i did. and i was like, Fucking Go For It! [...] okay so, who would be the alpha and who would be the omega. i think we all know michael would be the alpha, do we not agree?" (cue sounds from the audience) "we think Adam is the alpha?" (i should have been there i'm cackling. someone said 'because he keeps michael in check!') "... okay, now you changed my mind."

someone made a daddy joke about it, but i didn't get it so like, okay to each one their own. i still disagree and thought he got it right the first time around.

okay, he's talking about the natural-born killers episode a director pitched for him in season nine, we all know the one — with michael and adam on the road. we were robbed.

a fan is talking about a theory where adam is actually raphael's true vessel because he was pre-med and there’s a theoretical fourth brother somewhere out there. what makes me laugh is jake saying we'll had him to the sitcom and going, "another younger brother?" / "yeah we should have that," / "no we shouldn't. there can only be one alpha."

jake: i might just actually write that as a non-supernatural thing. not a bad idea! someone in the crowd: make it a fanfiction and pitch us it! jake: calm dowm.

alright, there is a whole lot of fun stuff going on and it's funny, like he and his brother thinking hanson were pretty girls and then finding out they’re actually pretty boys. also more a/b/o discourse. and he made his dean voice and went, "daddy's here," and "daddy's home."

Q: "since adam and michael spent a lot of time in the cage, of all the activities that they did to keep themselved busy what do you think was the dumbest?" jake: "grow a mustache and blow dry it."

Q: "if adam ruled hell, what's the first thing that he would change?" jake: "the elevator music would have '1998 now that's what i call music' on the loop because it still has to be a little bit like Hell. i think hell has elevator music."

and that’s it, that’s all folks :’)