#I have completely convinced myself that everyone hated my latest fic and was just being nice about it

[thursdayinspace]

the urge to post sth because you need validation, but not a single wip is close to being finished 😂 it's been a bit of A Month so far lol. my mind always goes to hating my writing when stressed about completely unrelated things and I wish it wouldn't do that. 😂

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.�� His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[wesokkasimp]

mine (jealous!femreader x firelord!zuko)

A/N: ok so i kinda wrote this one really quickly so please forgive me if it’s not mind blowing but i have a problem with over editing things so i really tried to keep the editing at a minimum. 

word count: 1768

warnings: mild swearing, reader is lowkey bisexual (yes i projected my crush on mai into this fic what about it)

Ever since you and Zuko started dating publicly, you had been going to a lot more events. Being the Fire Lord's partner had its responsibilities, and appearing publicly at parties, galas, festivals, you name it, was the first on that very long list.

But this event in particular was very important. This would be the first Fire Nation gala Earth Kingdom residents, besides Toph and the Kyoshi Warriors, would be invited to after the disaster with the Yu Dao colony. Even though a compromise had been reached, tensions were still running high between the Zuko and Earth King Kuei. Your courtship with Zuko had only worsened the tension, mostly among Fire Nation citizens. They didn’t like the idea of Zuko dating an Earth Kingdom citizen, much less one from a lower class like yourself. After all, the Fire Lord was supposed to date a nice, Fire Nation girl from a nice, rich, noble family. 

But tonight, that didn’t matter. You were bent on enjoying yourself tonight. Zuko had introduced you to Team Avatar a few months ago, and while you had befriended the entire group, you especially clicked with Suki, who coincidentally was who you were chatting with. She was currently telling you about her latest adventure when someone caught your eye.

“And that was the third time I had to take Sokka to get his stomach pumped-”

“Who’s that?” you quipped, suddenly becoming very aware that you hadn’t seen Zuko since the start of the evening.

“Oh, with Zuko? That’s just Mai.” Suki answered as she began telling you about the fourth time Sokka got drunk out of his mind. But you had tuned her out.

You were aware of Zuko and Mais past relationship, just as Zuko was aware of all your past flames. However, no one ever cared to mention just how beautiful Mai was. But they had broken up years ago, not long after the Hundred Year War. You knew this. You knew Zuko didn’t still have feelings for Mai after what- four? Five years? You also knew Mai had moved on and was now dating a certain Kyoshi Warrior with a very pink aura. You knew this!

But knowing didn’t stop your stomach from dropping when you noticed Zuko laughing with Mai. You knew you were being ridiculous. You knew Zuko was sincere when he told  you how much he loved you, how you were his one and only every night before falling asleep in your arms. You knew how he couldn’t care less about the public's thoughts on your relationship. But that didn’t stop you from clutching your glass with a vice grip as you watched Zuko and Mai chat, catching up with each other.

“Hey! Are you even paying attention?” The Kyoshi Warrior snapped, bringing you back to reality.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I just, uh, got distracted.” you replied sheepishly.

Suki’s eyebrow quirked, clearly confused at what could have been distracting you. However, the bamboozled expression on her face quickly morphed into a smug one as she followed your line of sight, a smirk taking over her painted face.

“Oh. Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” Suki giggled.

“Absolutely not! Why would you think that?” You squeaked, a blush creeping up your neck. Your tone was not a convincing one.

“Really? Do you think that little of me? I know jealous when I see it.” Suki chuckled, her eyebrows raising suggestively.

Before you could embarrass yourself anymore, the string quartet got back from their thirty minute break and began playing a slow, sweet song. 

Suki decided to spare your dignity this time as she saw you eyeing the former couple.

“Go on, Y/N. Get your man.” she sighed.

You didn’t need to be told twice as you set down your drink, dead set to get to Zuko before the song was over. However, the gala was packed, making it very hard to maneuver through the crowd. After bumping into various Fire Nation nobles, probably making them think even less of you than they did before, you finally made it to where Zuko and Mai were chatting. That is, were chatting a few minutes ago. Now, they were nowhere to be found. Confused as to where they could have gone, you began looking around the gala before spotting them.

On the dance floor.

Your eyes widened, then narrowed. The mere sight of another woman dancing with Zuko made your vision turn red. You didn’t care that they had both moved on. You didn’t care about the coos of affection Zuko couldn’t seem to stop whispering into your ear whenever he was near you. All you cared about was the fact that Mai was getting handsy with your boyfriend.

Deep down, in your heart of hearts, you knew where these feelings sprung from. Insecurity. Even before you made your relationship with Zuko known to the public you often wondered if you were enough for him. Zuko didn’t think your nationality or status mattered, but it seemed everyone else did. Now that your courtship had been made known to the public, you were constantly being reminded by articles, nobles, hell, even Zuko's own advisors, that you would never be enough for him. No one ever said anything to your face, of course, but it didn’t take a damn detective to figure out what the glares sent your way and the whispers when no one thought you were looking were about. I mean really, a Fire Lord, a decorated war veteran, with… you? You could barely open a jar by yourself, and while Zuko may find that endearing, it served as yet another reminder that you would never be enough for him.

But that didn’t matter right now. You didn’t feel like playing therapist with yourself. All that mattered was getting Mai, that gorgeous minx, away from Zuko. 

You strutted to Zuko with a determination you didn’t know you had. You were a woman on a mission. Normally, you’d probably think this over a bit more, especially at such an event. But not tonight. Tonight the mighty Fire Lord needed a little reminder of who he belonged to.

Just as the song was ending and Zuko began to lead Mai off of the dance floor, you tapped his shoulder.

“Hey.” you barked. Whoops, that was way louder than you intended.

“Oh, Y/N! I’ve barely seen you all night. Where have you been?” Zuko inquired, as if he hadn’t just been dancing with another woman.

“Around,” you muttered.

“Oh, how rude of me! Mai, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Mai, my, um, ex.” Zuko stammered as he realized the incredibly awkward hole he had just dug himself into.

“Hey. Nice to meet you.” Mai drawled as she looked you up and down. Even in your jealous haze, you noticed that she didn’t look at you the way most nobles did, with hatred in their eyes. She looked intrigued by you, if anything.

“The honors mine. Zuko, we need to talk. Sexy, we’ll continue this conversation later.” you stated with your normal confidence, enhanced by the alcohol.

As Mai watched you storm off, Zuko in hand, her eyebrows raised in surprise. She was not expecting the obviously jealous lover of her ex-boyfriend to call the woman she was jealous of sexy. It was quite amusing, really. This Y/N had certainly piqued her interest. Who knows, maybe if Ty Lee and her didn’t work out and you and Zuko ended up separating she’d give you a shot.

Meanwhile, once you’d led Zuko out of the ballroom and yanked him around the corner, you glared up at him, crossing your arms.

“What is this all about? And why the hell did you just call my ex se-” you cut Zuko off with your mouth, pressing a harsh kiss to his lips. Zuko’s gasp of surprise quickly turned into a moan as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. You continued moving your mouth against his, finding a steady rhythm while bringing your hand up to pull his neck down. The other found its way to his chest while he rested both his arms around your waist. As you drew more moans out of your boyfriend, you decided you had gotten your point across.

You pulled out of the kiss slowly. Zuko whined at the loss of contact. Bringing your mouth up to his ear, you breathed two words.

“You’re mine.”

Zuko’s needy expression turned concerned. 

“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous of Mai?” Zuko sighed as he rested his chin on your head.

Your jealousy faded away. Shame replaced it.

“Oh, spirits. I made such a fool out of myself,” you groaned. “I cannot believe I just did that! I was so caught up in getting to you that I completely abandoned all etiquette. I shoved nobles around, Zuko! I-I called Mai-”

Zuko cut off your rambling with a quick peck to your lips, much softer than the last kiss you shared.

“Hey, don’t start spiraling. This gala’s full of people. I’m sure no one even noticed,” Zuko murmured into your ear.

“But people do notice, Zuko. People notice what I do, analyze the living fuck out of it, and hate me for it,” you blurted. Oh wow. You did not expect to be bringing this up with your boyfriend tonight, yet here you were.

“Y/N, you know I don’t care what anyone thinks about our relationship,” Zuko stated as he slightly pulled away from the embrace to get a better look at you. “We love each other and that’s all that matters.”

“It’s not, though! How can I date the leader of a nation when the nation's people hate me?” you snivelled.

“The Fire Nation doesn’t hate you, Y/N. They’re just not used to you. This whole integrating of nations thing is very new, especially for us. But I’m sure they’ll start loving you in no time. How could they not?” Zuko reassured, his hand coming up to cup your jaw tenderly.

“You really think that?” you whispered, looking into Zuko's eyes as if they were the most beautiful sight in all the four nations. To you, they were.

Zuko leaned in for the third kiss of the night, and in that short moment, the world was only you and Zuko. No snarky nobles, no condescending articles, not even an ex that kind of turned you on. Just Zuko's warm, soft lips moving with yours in harmony.

“Does that answer your question?” Zuko murmured in your ear as he pulled away.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “It does.”

ahhhh my first oneshot! honestly, i didn’t think my first oneshot would go this smoothly. i did have to leave it alone for a little after the first 800 words because it wasn’t coming along great (the conversation with suki worked wonders imo) but i think it came out pretty well! thank you the the anon who requested this- it was a wonderful prompt! just a reminder- i am still taking requests for h/c and oneshots. love y’all xx

[wylanvnneck]

This 2 part fic was written for the Secret Snusband Gift Giveaway hosted by @jurdannet​ and @jurdannetrevels​ for my lovely Knife Wife @lilacs-with-lavender​.

Rating: T for Tyrannosaurus

Summary: Inspired by an episode of my favourite Cop TV show, ‘Castle’, in which a bet takes place with pretty high stakes, although the plotline has been tweaked to fit this fandom. My Knife Wife said she loved the Enemies to Lovers trope so that’s what I’ve (tried to) write here and I hope you enjoy the story of Homicide Detectives Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar and their mutual enmity.

Warnings: Not so graphic descriptions of murder and mention of drugs. (Really not sure what I need to tag, so please let me know if I’ve missed something.)

Posted as a Gift on AO3 | Part 2 | Masterlist

Part 1

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“Victim’s name is Taryn Santorini, a metal sculptor by trade, she was found by her doorman fifteen minutes before we traced the address in Chloe’s hand back to her.” 

Detective Jude Duarte looks down at the motionless face of a scared looking brunette, a crimson splatter painting the tiled floor around her lifeless body. The room around her is a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, bed ruffled and unmade and metal figurines placed haphazardly throughout the little apartment.

“Lil, talk to me, what are we looking at?”

Before the white-blonde haired medical examiner crouched on the floor by the body can answer, a smooth dark voice that Jude so detests cuts through the air behind her.

“Why, Duarte, I’d say that the fact that Tara What’s-her-name was shot and killed is rather obvious.” The despicable excuse of a detective steps forward, a smug grin pasted to his face. Cardan Greenbriar, entitled little rich boy, over-confident bastard and sadly, her partner.

Patience, Jude reminds herself, patience was a virtue. 

“I meant, as I’m sure Lil knows, with what model was she killed and when?”

Liliver shoots her an amused sympathetic look before turning her gaze back to the victim.

“Looks to be a gun with a 45 caliber, same as the one used to kill Chloe Tatterfell. I’d say Taryn here has been dead for about 12 hours so pretty close to Chloe’s time of death, maybe just a half hour or so afterwards.”

“So chances are it’s the same killer.” Cardan interjects, the smug smile a little less vibrant now. 

“Yep. I’ll have to get her back to the morgue so  I can do a full inspection, see if I can find anything helpful.”

Jude steps back from the crime scene to give her some space, almost bumping in to the officer taking pictures of the area for later use. 

“Thanks, Lil.”

“Just doing my job, sweetie.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jude clips a glossy picture of their latest victim onto the precinct’s murder board. “Garrett and Van questioned practically all known associates of both Chloe and Taryn and none of them could recognise the other victim. There’s no obvious connection between the two and yet, for some reason they were both killed on the same day, by the same person.”

“And with the same gun.” Cardan is leaning back in his chair, his posture insouciant and his curly black hair falling lazily over his forehead. Surely that was a violation of precinct dress codes? Not that he’d care either way, rule breaker that he was. God knew it was only because of his daddy’s clout that he’d even graduated from the academy in the first place, whilst people like Jude had to work hard and save every penny and fight to get anywhere in the field of Law Enforcement.

“Ok, I’m going to head to the morgue whilst Van and Gare check through the victim’s phones and financials, see if Lil has anything for us.”

“I suppose, being the dutiful partner that I am, I should come with you?” Cardan’s drawl is as irritating as usual and Jude can hardly wait to get out of the proximity of his stupid raven locks and smoldering eyes.

“Please, you’d be doing us both a favour if you didn’t.”

“Aw, come now Jude you know you’d miss me.” He lets out a dramatic sigh as he half heartedly stands from his chair to join her as she speeds by towards the exit and she just barely resists the urge to throttle him.

Lil bustles around her examining room as she adjusts the fluorescent lamps shining down on both the victim’s bodies’. 

“So, apart from the type of bullets that killed them, the only similarity that I could find between the two victims is the fact that they both have tattoos.”

Jude raises a brow. “Everyone has tattoos.”

From across the autopsy table Cardan’s eyes gleam as he smirks. 

“Oh really? You got some ink on you, Duarte?” 

His tone is disbelieving and Jude can’t resist messing with him a little.

She pastes an obviously fake flirtatious smile on her face and drawls in a sugar sweet voice, “Guess you’d have to find that out on your own, Greenbriar.” 

She bites at her lip for good measure and thinks once more of how bad she would be at flirting in earnest. Lil certainly couldn’t keep the laughter out of her gray eyes. Cardan, however, has a strange look on his face, one that Jude can’t quite decipher, but she’s pretty sure she’s just one-upped him and she can’t deny the slight sense of triumph that the thought gives her.

 She turns her attention back to the victims. “You were saying, Lil?” 

“I’m saying that these tattoos seem to have been done by the same artist. Look,” she pulls back the white cloth covering the body of Chloe Tatterfell, gently pushing a strand of brown hair off of her shoulder to reveal the cartoonish character of a rose, inked in with dark black ink.

She then turns to Taryn’s body to reveal a similarly styled tattoo of a mermaid on her wrist. Just as she’s pulling back the cover Jude’s back pocket vibrates and the sound of her plain ringtone travels through the air. Quickly she swipes upwards to answer the call and it’s Garrett.

“Yo, so we looked through the victims’ phone records and found a connection. Both Chloe and Taryn made a phone call on the day that they were killed to the same number, belonging to a Locke McCutchins, he’s got priors including robberies and domestic assault.”

By the time he’s finished speaking she’s already waved a quick goodbye to Lil and turned to walk out the door, not bothering to check if her partner was behind her.

“Alright, text me his address, let’s go pick him up.”

“Locke McCutchins, open up, it’s the NYPD!” Garrett bangs on the door and the force is so strong that the wood vibrates as Jude clutches her pistol in her hand, body flat against the wall of Locke’s apartment with Cardan right beside her.

There’s no answer and the door is broken down as she, Cardan, Garrett and Van file into the room in a practiced motion that’s as familiar to her as breathing.

Right in front of them, sprawled across his couch, lies the dead body of Locke McCutchin, his tawny eyes still open and gazing unseeingly up at his ceiling, a dried red patch visible on his shirt.

Garret drops to the floor beside the couch, his sandy hair falling over his face as he leans over to check Locke’s pulse whilst the rest of them look on after having taken note that the apartment was clear.

“Body’s cold, he’s been dead for hours, entry wound looks to be about the same size as the other victims.”

Jude scrunches her eyebrows as she stands in front of the murderboard for the second time that day.

“So, Chloe Tatterfell, Taryn Santorini and Locke McCuchins were all killed within the span of 24 hours, all with the same gun, presumably by the same killer and yet so far the only connections we’ve found are Taryn’s address that was found written on Chloe’s hand, the phone call from both women to Locke and the similar tattoos on both Chloe and Taryn, but not on Locke.”

“Hmm.” Cardan seems to materialise out of nowhere, carrying a paper cup of what smells like freshly brewed coffee. Jude was convinced that he took his coffee with added alcohol but she had yet to prove it.

“What’s with the glare?” he asks.

“It automatically deploys itself when you're around.”

He scoffs. Twirls his coffee around. Takes a long, slurping sip.

“Hey, Duarte? Don’t get me wrong, I mean, the feeling is mutual, but what exactly is it that makes you despise me so much? I’d like to know so I can make sure to keep doing it.” 

Jude barely deliberates over her answer before she responds. 

“Being an overly cocky, obnoxious jerk who has only managed to get this far thanks to his Daddy’s fat purse will definitely be the best way to make me hate you, trust me.”

He grins but there’s no humour in the curve of his sensual lips, his eyes are cold metal.

“You think that the only reason I’m a detective is because of my father?”

“Yup.” She makes sure to add plenty of emphasis to that one word.

Cardan opens his mouth as if to speak, stops, presses his lips together so hard that they turn pale before the colour returns to them when a slow smile spreads across his face, this time full of humour, but the decidedly darker kind.

“Let’s make a bet. If you can figure out what the connection between our three victims is before I do, I’ll go right up to Captain Madoc myself and request a change of partners so you can be rid of my ‘overly cocky, obnoxious’ self. Deal?” 

He was extending a challenge and Jude was never one to back down from those. Besides, the chance to be rid of him with no cost to herself or her reputation was too good to pass up on. Still, there had to be a catch, with Cardan, there was always a catch.

“And on the complete off-chance that you figure it out first? What happens then?”

“If I figure it out first...you have to come with me as my date to this party that my dad’s having in a couple days.”

Those last few words come out in a rush and Jude has to take a moment to decipher their meaning. Followed by another moment to wonder if she’d somehow completely misunderstood what he’d said.

“You want me to what?”

“Be my date to a party. Honestly Duarte, do you have any idea how many women would jump at this opportunity?” His tone is disgustingly nonchalant. 

“I-” she struggles to find the words. “Take one of them then! Don’t you have a girlfriend, Nicasia or something like that? Blue hair and eyes? High pitched voice? Talks a lot about how much she gets seasick?”

“You know, for someone who’s only met Nicasia once you do remember quite a bit about her.” His steady gaze on her is intense.

For some incorrigible reason Jude has to resist the urge to flush.

“I’m a detective. It’s my job to study people.”

“Right. Sadly, Nicasia and I are no longer together, if we ever were. I got bored. Hence, why I need a date.”

“I’m sure you could just take one of your scores of female admirers, you don’t need me.”

“Is that jealousy that I detect in your voice?”

“Cardan.” 

“Look, the point is, I can’t be bothered having to deal with yet another simpering female who thinks that one night on my arm means a promise to a life-long relationship complete with marriage, a fancy mansion and exactly 2.5 kids. All I want is a companion for one night so I don’t get hounded by my mother for not having a girlfriend by which she can procure some grandchildren.”

“Oh so now you want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes up at the ceiling and she fights the urge to slap him. 

“It’s just for one night! Besides, I thought me winning was barely even a possibility to you.”

She makes a noise at the back of her throat. “It is.”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is. Do we have a deal, or not?” He holds out his hand, sculpted eyebrows raised in confrontation.

She doesn’t really think he has much of a chance of figuring it out before her, but he had admittedly also proven adept at figuring certain things out in previous cases so there was definitely no certainty that he wouldn’t win, for all her bravado. Yet, her competitive nature couldn’t bear the thought of surrendering, so she pushes her unease aside and grips his hand in a firm shake. 

“Deal.” 

There’s an awkward moment when he takes a little too long to release her hand from his grip. Once he finally does, the rather pointy tips of his ears reddening, they both turn back to the murder board and the view of their murder time line and crime scene pictures, furiously trying to connect the dots in their heads.

A random thought intrudes in her brain.

"Wait, what if Garrett and Van figure it out before we do?”

As one, she and Cardan both turn towards the opposite side of the office where the two officers in question sat in front of their computers.

Van was typing in data on his computer, eyes glazing over and the tuft of black hair atop his head trembling whilst Garrett, or, The Ghost - as he was sometimes called thanks to his tendency to take months before answering non-work related messages - stood eating glazed donuts with one hand and speaking to someone on the phone held in the other. Jude loved the both of them but she had to admit that they didn’t exactly paint the most inspiring picture. 

Once again she and Cardan are in sync when they promptly turn back towards the murderboard and proclaim, “Nah.”

Van’s excitement is clearly written on his face when he walks straight up to Jude’s desk the moment she arrives at the precinct the next morning, slamming down a manila folder with the NYPD crest printed on it onto her neatly arranged table top.

Immediately she reaches out to open it, desperate for a break in the case that would not only put a three time killer behind bars but also ensure that she herelf wouldn’t commit murder if she lost the bet and had to pretend to be Cardan’s girlfriend for a night. The thought makes her want to shudder.

“So, I was looking into all of our victim’s financials and I noticed an anomaly. Two weeks ago on the 7th they each deposited 95 hundred dollars into their savings accounts, but we’ve got no way of tracing the money back because the amount is under the IRS’s investigative limit” Van takes a quick pause before continuing, “but that’s not all, both Taryn and Chloe have credit card charges for small amounts at a tattoo place called Fair Folk Inks down in Queens.”

“Great, that’d be the place where they both got tattoos, I’ll go down there and ask the owner a couple questions, thanks Van.” She puts the sheaf of financial accounts back into the folder and takes a quick swig of her usual morning coffee, black, no sugar before preparing to head out once more.  

“Going somewhere, partner?” 

She’d bumped straight into Cardan when stepping into the elevator and she lets out a small groan of frustration as she steps back from his sturdy form. He looks annoyingly chipper, usual cocky smile in place and laughter in his tone as he looks down at her slightly shorter self. His cologne is strong and emanates the scent of the woods and sunlight in the small elevator. The woods and sunlight? Clearly foregoing the rest of her morning coffee hadn’t been a good idea.

She’d thought she could make it out of the building before he finally arrived, necessitating in having to take him along as well, but clearly fate had other ideas. 

“Tattoo parlour. Queens,” she grits out.

“Let’s go then,” his tone is sickly sweet.

“Hi there, you guys lookin’ to get inked?” asks the pink haired girl behind the counter in fishnet tights and a tank top, looking up from where she is perched on a stool behind the counter when she hears them enter.

The parlour itself is shiny and white, the smooth metal counter and two spaced out black leather tattoo chairs complete with wheeled stools are the only pieces of furniture in the small space. Mounted on the walls are designs, each of them evoking a sense of fantasy. A pixie there, a selkie here, an ornate dragon, all staring right back at Jude as she takes in their surroundings. She takes note of the fact that the pictures staring back at her were very reminiscent of Chloe and Taryn’s tattoos, solidifying her suspicion that this was where they had got them done.

Before she has time to explain the reason for their visit, Cardan pipes up.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of getting one of a slithering snake, maybe across my back? I believe it would add to my already abundant sex appea-”

“Actually,” Jude cuts him off with her most scathing glare, to which he irritatingly responds with a grin. “We’re here on official business, NYPD, we need to speak with the owner of this establishment.” She holds up the badge that she’s just extracted from her plain black wallet as she speaks.

“That would be Vivi, hang tight a sec I’ll go get her.” With a sway of her hips Heather trounces off behind a curtained section at the back of the parlour. 

Unable to stand still for even a few moments, her partner has already wandered over to the corner of the room, pointing at a pinned up design, ““That goblin over there reminds me of Van.”

She ignores him. 

“Oh come on Duarte, you have to admit, there’s a definite resemblance.”

She spares the quickest of glances at the design and it’s true, there’s a striking similarity, but she isn’t about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing so she simply makes a non-committal grunt of recognition.

“Tell me, are you always this tightly wound or is it just for the majority of your day?”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows have inadvertently traveled upwards on her face and she can’t believe he has the audacity to say what he just did, although really, she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Come on Duarte, we’ve been partners for quite a while now and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you laugh.” He’s standing a few feet away from her, his expression serious, not backing down.

“It’s called being professional.” She can feel the muscles working in her face as she hisses out the words through gritted teeth, blood pounding furiously. 

“Ahem.” She whirls around to find a tall bronze haired woman with striking cat-like eyes that were currently meeting her gaze wearing a lazy look of amusement.  

“Heather said there were some policemen who wanted to ask me some questions?”

Jude cannot believe that she had just gotten so sidetracked by her insolent partner that she’d forgotten why she was currently standing in the middle of a Tattoo parlour in Queens, clutching a set of regular sized close ups of three now dead people. She tamps down the irritation at her own actions as she thrusts out the photos in front of the woman facing her, Vivi, the pink haired girl had said.

“Yes, ma’am, do you recognize these people?”

She watches intently as Vivi carefully peruses the pictures before answering, “I know the two girls, Taryn and Chloe, we’re friends, I’ve even tattooed the both of them. I’m not really sure who he is.”

“Are you sure you don’t know him? Look carefully.” Cardan is all business now, stepping up to Vivi.

“I’m sure.” Vivi’s tone is almost defiant, daring him to question her again.

“You said that you were friends with the girls, how close were you?” 

“They came into the tattoo parlour at the same time about a month ago and we started up a conversation, we exchanged numbers and would meet up for a drink from time to time.” 

“Did they ever meet up with just each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Can you think of any reason as to why they’d both be killed by the same person?”

“They’re...they’re dead?”

Jude had intentionally asked the question in a way that would require a reaction and she wasn’t sure that she was entirely convinced by the shocked undertone of Vivi’s voice.

 “I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

“She’s hiding something.” Once again Jude is back in front of the murderboard, furiously capping and uncapping a whiteboard marker as her mind whirls. She’s full of nervous energy, on the brink of a precipice and she wants nothing more than to be able to push herself off of it.

“Agreed.” Cardan is pacing the floor between her and the murder board and his posture indicates that he’s just as worked up as she is.

“But what I can’t understand is why she would kill two of her acquaintances plus a random vending machine operator, I mean, there’s no clear motive.” She’s barely conscious of the slight pain that tingles as she worries at her bottom lip.

Cardan halts in front of the board, takes a hard look at the scrawled timeline on it before once more resuming his brisk walk.

 “And what the hell is the connection between these three victims? They lived in opposite neighbourhoods, worked in completely different areas and fields, never seemed to have been in the same place at the same time and yet somehow they were killed by the same hand. Also, where did all that money come from?” 

His phone chooses precisely that moment to start ringing and the sound of ‘Horns’ by Bryce Fox cuts through the tension. 

“It’s Liliver,” he mouths as he swipes upwards to answer and puts the medical examiner on speaker phone.

“You got something for us Lil?’

“You bet I do. I had scraps from the victims’ clothings tested to try and find a common link. What I found were traces of bleach, acetone, sodium chloride and ammonia.”

“Drugs. They were making drugs. That would explain all the money.” Jude is burning and luminescent with victory, until Lili’s next words cut her down.

“It’s not drugs.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because of what isn’t there. If your vics were making drugs, there’d need to be a couple more ingredients. That being said, they were definitely up to something.”

She lets out a sigh of defeat. “Thanks, Lil.”

Cardan hangs up before bringing his fingers up to his temples, massaging the sides of his head as he burns a hole into the board in front of him.

Jude bites back a scream. “This is like the start of a bad joke, a teacher, a sculptor and a vending machine operator walk into a tattoo parlour…”

He scoffs, “Yeah, except we don’t really have a punchline.”

“Other than ‘they made a bunch of money and got themselves killed.’”

There’s a lull in the air and the frustration is palpable. There was so much more than just their bet at stake here, there was the need for justice for these three victims, who regardless of their crimes likely didn’t deserve what had befallen them. Besides, there was no way that they could let a ruthless killer roam the streets freely.

Suddenly, Cardan whirls around to face her, once again bringing his pacing to an abrupt stop, with a speed to rival that of the animal that was his tattoo inspiration.

“Made a bunch of money,” he repeats. 

He sounds like he’s just jumped off of the precipice. She, on the other hand, remained firmly mounted to the ground. 

“What?”

“A sculptor who works with metal, a chemist and a vending machine operator...I know what they were up to.”

Slowly, the light starts to dawn on her and her pulse speeds up. Yes, she thinks.

“Think about it, when counterfeiting money, what’s the biggest problem you face? Finding the paper,” he continues.

“And a vending machine operator would have an endless supply of one dollar billls!”

“Exactly, then the chemist would come in, using the chemicals that were found on the vic’s bodies to white wash those bills.”

“And then the sculptor would be able to fashion a set of metal plates with which to type in fake serial numbers’ so they can get larger denominations of money…”

“Right! So, plates, paper, there’s just one missing ingredient.”

Beaming smiles break out on both their faces when, in unison they reach the same conclusion. 

The 12th Precinct’s interrogation room had contained many suspects from the time it was built. Some were innocent and some were guilty, but there was no doubt in both Jude and Cardan’s minds that the feline woman currently seated across from them with her legs up on the table was one hundred percent guilty. 

“So you think you’ve figured it all out, huh?” Vivi’s drawl is deceptively flippant.

“I think so.” Jude answers calmly. “For instance, we’ve figured out that you were involved in and likely the mastermind behind a counterfeiting operation that raked in a substantial amount of money. You provided the last ingredient needed, the ink from your tattoo parlour stocks that was used to print on the bills.”

Cardan leans forward. “We’ve also surmised that you killed your partners in said operation; Taryn Santorini and Chloe Tatterfell, both of whom you met through your tattoo parlour, just like you said.”

“And our third victim, Locke McCutchins? Yeah, we know he was your cousin, once removed on your mother’s side wasn’t it? A distant enough relationship for you to not be flagged when checking his family, but close enough for you to enlist him in your scheme so you had access to vending machine bills.” Jude continues, she and Cardan having perfected the art of interrogating together ages ago, their tactics working smoothly together alongside each other. 

Vivienne sneers. “So what? You have no proof.”

“On the contrary, ma’am, we do. You neglected to hide the metal plates that you got Taryn to make for you in a place that wasn’t under a loose floorboard of your room, easily found with the aid of a search warrant.” Cardan smiles.

“You also tripped up when you stored your used gun with matching ballistics to the weapon that killed our victims in the same place as the plates.” Cardan’s smile is copied on Jude’s face.

Vivi’s skin pales and her cat’s eyes narrow into slits as she bangs the table, hard, before slouching back in the metal chair, the fight leaving her.

“Well, I suppose the jig is up, as they say,” she drawls.

Satisfied, Jude stands up and gathers the notepad and pen that she’d left on the desk and then bends over the interrogation table to meet Vivi’s gaze.

“What I can’t understand, though, is why? Why would you kill them if you’d already paid them?”

The Accused smirks. “It was all that idiot Lockes’s fault. He’d gotten himself into debt with some mob shark and needed more dough to bail his sorry self out. I wasn’t about to give it, he had his cut and that was all. But then, he threatened to go to the cops and tell them about what we did. Couldn’t let that happen, so I figured I’d kill ‘em all of. Just to be safe.”

The casual way in which she speaks of her deeds chills Jude to the bone. Wordlessly, she turns her back on yet another cold hearted murderer and exits the room with Cardan right behind her.

They come to a stop in front of the now empty murderboard, its surface shiny and white, devoid of words, but not for long. There was always a murder happening somewhere or the other, Jude had been a detective long enough to know that.

“So, now that Vivienne Insmire, tattoo artist, mastermind and ink supplier of counterfeiting operations and killer of ‘friends’ and distant male cousins is safely behind bars, I think you and I have a certain matter to settle, Duarte.”

She’d been trying hard to avoid this moment all day, pushing back thoughts of her close defeat and what its consequences would be. It seemed like now, she'd run out of time. She gulps.

“I suppose-” she almost can’t bring herself to say the words, “I suppose you won our bet, then.”

“Yup.” He’s not even trying to hide his gloating, “and you know what that means.”

The noise she emits is one that is resigned. She knows what’s coming.

“I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow.”

“Or I could just take a ca-”

“Don’t be late, Duarte,” he calls over his shoulder as he leisurely strolls towards the precinct exit, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder.

--------------------------------------------------------------

If you’ve made it all the way down here, congrats! Here’s a link for part 2.

Tagging the lovely people on my short but treasured TFOTA taglist; @cupcakesandkittens​ (who helped immensely during the writing of this fic and who suggested adding in the interrogation scene❤) and my very own talented Secret Snusband, @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of my taglist💕

[daimonhalos]

Aight this is the second time I watch it but I'm gonna do a commentary on the latest bad's lore stream! Just for funsies, I might have honestly already forgotten some stuff so I wanna keep my thought process :3 let's go, commentary under the cut.

There's also some small theories/analysis in some points but nothing too much, just me rambling cause pain.

The pre stream song. Faster and Bad never change please.

I love so so so much the ominous soundtracks he puts as background for lore man it's just so coooool.

Reality check pre/post lore my beloved 💜

that little meh eh eh. is everything

he's just on a boat at night and but can already see he's got shaders on, this means PRETTY VISUALS AHEAD. Also i really like bits beginning with the character alone heading towards their destined direction, it's just pleasing

HIM TAKING DOWN ANTI EGG POSTERS. KING SHIT

Can't believe I got to hear "muffinhead" in lore voice.

Not even inside the room and HOLY SHIT they covered it all with the red bricks block IM AAAAH IT'S SO PRETTY. Like before the vines were all put at random but now they're neatly placed and it's actually aesthetically pleasing? I love it

DANCEFLOOR DANCEFLOOR DANCEFLOOR

The table. is . so. is so . it's so prebby,,, help like i'd live there man

Bad being overwhelmed by the egg's voice and lowkey scared. FINE IM FINE

No other choice. And the way he repeated it like a mantra? Kind of like to convince himself? AHHH

SKEPPY. SKEPP

small,, small egg staircase

haha fuckign pain. p a i n. just pain it sounds a lot like Skeppy before actually stayed with Bad cause it annoyed him how much he wanted to hang out like old times,,,,, my heart pangs

IM JUST WORRIED ABOUT YOU

I CARE ABOUT YOU *passes out*

bad scared the egg is skeppy's bff now /j (have to joke through the pain,,)

BADBOY i swear to god he knows his audience. he just does.

Bad doing whatever he can to even just hang out a few minutes with skeppy. Bro, the tears inside

"I'm comfortable right here." "Skeppy I know you are-" THE WAY BAD'S VOICE BROKE HERE HOLY SHIT LEMME CLIP IT.

He talks to chat. HE TALKS TO CHAT THIS MEANS WE ARE CANON THUS we are either little angels or demons around him or a mix or, we're particles that make up Rat ♥

"All of this is for him" okay stab me next time it'll hurt less

BADBOY STARTING TO BE CONFLICTED BECAUSE HE NEVER HAS A FUCKING BREAK

s- w- skeppy kept the egg alive? okay so ive been thinking about the fact that skeppy became completely red and like wow what if it kinda is that hes literally become a small part of Egg? like, i wonder if someone breaks it, if he feels pain

Skeppy so dry with his responses. stop i will cry

bad. bad why are you bringing up selfies to a lore stream bad-

"why are you still talking to me" "okay..." stop stop PLEASE STOP-

smol growls, he's getting frustrated

idk why but skeppy talking about the perimeters made me laugh it was just funny how far away he was and just started talking about it randomly

"i think it looked a little bit better before" thoughts being thunk

"what's it gonna take for you to stop talking to me?" literally i am deceased s t o p

STOP STEPPIN ON THE MAGMA BLOCKS SIR YOU'RE HURTING

Bad shouldn't be so happy about just having "one last walk around" with skeppy so he "stops bothering" him tHIS HURTS SO MUCH the egg has fucked them up so much

Skeppy doesn't hear it huh? Maybe it whispers different things to everyone

"I like how it feels" nooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO STOP HURTING TOURSELF

so no dance? *slams phone on the ground*

When skeppy says his line about never seeing anything close to a party there, idk what it is about it but his tone just hits, man he's so good preesh

HE CALLED HIM ANT. BAD PLS YOUR BEING BAD AT NAMES IS SHOWING

"Oh my goodness you're going back to the egg" HE'S SO SAD. HE'S SO SAD CAUSE HE COULDNT KEEP HIM WITH HIM A LITTLE BIT LONGER HES S

"you know what? i invite you" i wanna read this in a certain way. The egg was feeling like bad was so frustrated he started doubting the egg, so it was like alright let's use skeppy to get it closer to I can manipulate this bad boy better :)) motherfuck

are they about to kiss-

egg cockblocker

"okay don't come back" end me rn

ngl when sapnap joined I got real scared for a moment.

"it's not about power! it's nor about control! i'm you friend skeppy!" "I mean ... you can think that" FUCK U NO IM NOT DEALING WITH THIS RN

"We're friends, right?"

"In your head we can be best friends, we can be whatever you want" BDI ANYONE??????? also whatever- whatever he wants? :eyes: okay sorry no ill see myself out

"We're m- we are friends sk-" M- MARRIED WAS HE GONNA SAY MARRIED DID HE PULL A QUACKITY OH MY GOD I HATE THIS GUY OH MY GOD /pos but also like in a bawling my eyes out way

the egg is more than just a friend? skep u good there pal do u have smth to tell us

"You don't know what it's like." OH HERE HE GOES. HERE HE GOES HERE IT COMES OH NO.

The way Bad stutters i really thought he was gonna say something REALLY IMPACTFUL

"I have done so much for you, for our friendship and now you're trying to tell me we're not friends anymore?" LEAVE ME ALONE

I JUST CAUGHT THE BLOOPER HE SAID ON ME INSTEAD OF HANG OUT WITH ME IM CRYING OH MY GOD BAD HOW DID U FUCK THAT UP oh my god I imagine him mentally going like oh my gosh out of all the things that could be messed up THAT WAS SO FUNNY

ahaha my dads are fighting help

"You think you've done anything? You seriously think that?" *looks at my fic where bad feels worthless because the egg said so* ahah... I'm sorry?

"You left me for a long, long long time before you even checked up on me, okay?" he's not wrong,,,, he's not wrong why does this hurt sm,,,,, "and now all of a sudden you care about me?" OH MY GOD PLEASE I HATE THIS EGG

I see them... i see them approaching the lava blocks..

"the past doesn't matter" the egg wanting to erase their relationship so much,,,, i wanna cry because then if bad doesn't have skeppy he just has nothing right and then,,, then he can be another empty vessel for the fucking egg I hate this mI hate this so much

Also!!! little things I noticed!! Bad taking away part of the vine and also mining a red block? Without being affected at all? MHHHH

"I just wanted us to hang out like we used to" BAD'S VOICE CRACKING AGAIN STOP I WILL CJRYSD

"I did all of this for you and I didn't want the egg to take that away" you see how fucking tragic this is. Like Skeppy sacrificed himself so his friend could stop being infected. Bad sacrificed literally the whole server himself included to get him back. And then it comes down to this. The egg separating them a thousand fucking miles away. I hate this it's so sad

the selfish bit please no stop

THE LAVA BAD THE LAVA PLEASE IT'S TOO CLOSE

the fucking shaking with rage thing got me BROOOO I LOVE WHEN BAD DOES THE LITTLE THINGS IN GAME

"IT'S JUST A STUPID EGG" FUCKING FINALLY YOU TELL HIM BAD but then oh no oh no would you look at that huh. cant fucking have shit in dsmp. the way he immediately just screams for him right after

YOU CAN HEAR THE TEARS IN HIS VOICE and also mine hi I'm sobbing again

BDI FUCKING CANON LET'S GOOOOOOO WE CALLED ITTTT

(Dreamscape?)Skeppy being actually concerned with him haha this doesn't hurt at all!!!

*stares at black screen* I'm fine.

Thank you for listening to my ramble I am hurting so much bestie

[mischiefandspirits]

Twaumatized

Based on this

Includes: Implied/Referenced Torture (its all offscreen and barely hinted at, but I'm mentioning it anyway), Worldbuilding, Dissection (again, offscreen), No character death, No Angst because I can't write angst even in a dissection fic, Morbid humor, and Mute Danny Fenton

While the news had reached some of Casper High before it, the anguished scream on Monday morning was really what signaled everyone knowing.

Almost everyone in the hall spun to Paulina as she collapsed to the ground in a wailing fit.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dash asked Star, who was standing over her friend looking horrified.

“Mi-mi amor!” Paulina sobbed, waving Star’s phone around. “My Phantom! He’s dead!”

“Well, he is a ghost. Wasn’t that a given?” Kwan chuckled and Paulina threw the phone at his head.

“What’s going on?” Dash asked Star again.

“The-the Fentons. They released a report last night. It’s all over the news. They… They teamed up with that huntress chick with the flying board and caught Phantom on Friday afternoon. He-he-”

“They killed him!” Paulina hissed. “They destroyed my love! My Phantom!”

More horrified shrieks rang out and people dug through their pockets and bags for their phones.

Dash snatched up Star’s and started looking over the article that was pulled up. Kwan wrapped his arm around Star and his girlfriend buried her face in his chest. Valerie hid her smirk in her locker. Mikey ran off, his hand over his mouth. Sam and Tucker stared at the A-listers for a solid minute before turning to their friend.

Danny, having been the only one who hadn’t turned to Paulina, was putting his English book into his bag and closing his locker.

“Danny?” his friends said.

The words echoed through the near-silent hall and Dash’s head snapped up.

“Fentoni!” he growled, marching up to the trio. “What the hell is this? This better be your parents making crap up again!”

Danny ignored him as he turned to leave.

The jock grabbed for him, but Valerie pulled him back. “Leave him alone, Baxter. It’s not on him that your crush got vaporized.”

“Of course you’re protecting him,” Star snapped. “You’ve hated Phantom since day one. I bet you’re happy he’s gone!”

“Yeah, I am. Good riddance! That ghoul will never bother us again.”

“Phantom is a hero!” Paulina spat.

“He was a monster,” Valerie shot back.

Dash spun on Danny, only to find Manson and Foley alone. “Where’d Fenton go?”

The two were shocked to see their friend had disappeared so Dash pushed past them and ran for Lancer’s classroom, the rest of the class following on his heels.

When they reached the door, Lancer was passing Danny a paper with a sigh. “This better be real.”

He nodded with a smile and tucked the paper into his backpack. He tried to go to his desk, but Dash intercepted him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

“Mr. Baxter!” Lancer snapped, jumping to his feet.

“We’ve got questions so you better start talking.” When Danny just stared blankly at him, he gave the smaller boy a shake. “Talk.”

“He can’t,” Lancer said, grabbing Dash’s arm. “Mr. Fenton suffered an injury to his lungs over the weekend and is currently unable to talk. Now set him down.”

Dash huffed and set him down roughly as the bell rang. “This isn’t over, Fenton.”

“What is this all about?” Lancer asked.

“His parents killed Phantom,” Nathan said, pointing at the boy as he took his seat.

Danny rolled his eyes and took out his phone.

“You think murder’s funny, freak?” Star spat.

“That’s enough. This is neither the time nor place,” Lancer said shakily, but he was ignored as everyone started yelling.

“Who’s going to protect Amity now?

“It’s not murder, he’s a ghost!”

“How can you even sleep? Isn’t your parents' lab in your house?”

“I bet you helped them, didn’t you!”

It went on for a few minutes before an air horn sounded. The class ducked their heads and clapped their hands over their ears. They turned to see Danny smiling smugly at them. As soon as he released the trigger, he held up his phone.

“You’re all complete and utter morons. Can we start class now?” a robotic voice stated.

Lancer cleared his throat. “Yes, while the insult was hardly necessary, Mr. Fenton is right. All of you, to your seats.”

They followed orders, but most of the students continued to glare at Danny throughout both the class and the days to come. Valerie tried to stick by him, but Sam and Tucker both glared her off while Danny ignored her at every turn.

Sam and Tucker tried to talk to him, but all he would tell them was that he was fine. That Frostbite had looked him over and gave him the all-clear and he’d already talked everything out with Jazz.

He didn’t tell them that she was heading back to Amity, having easily convinced her teachers to let her finish the semester online since she was already so far ahead in class. That she and Vlad -- of all people -- had teamed up to get Jazz custody of Danny. That his parents hadn’t even noticed the papers Vlad had slipped them to sign, too excited about their latest victory.

Probably for the best. Jazz had plenty of reasons lined up for why she was taking custody, but the longer it took for their parents to notice, the harder it would be for them to fight it.

He didn’t find any of that nearly as important as the fact that his friends kept saying his parents nearly killed him while his classmates kept saying they had done it.

Nor as morbidly hilarious.

His parents had done a lot to him, but killing had never been on the examination table.

Ha, dissection pun. See, morbidly hilarious.

As it were, everything came to a head at lunch on Wednesday when a white-black-green blur shot through the ceiling and smashed a cafeteria table.

The students stared at the table, half-tempted to run in fear and half-tempted to get closer in hope.

That had been a very familiar blur.

Then the ghost popped it’s head up and both fear and hope were replaced by confusion. The ghost girl’s hair was white like Phantom’s, but her bangs hung even more into her face by virtue of being chin length and the rest was pulled into a braid that nearly reached her waist. She had Phantom’s face, but her figure was distinctly feminine and she looked like she would have been a head shorter than the ghost boy. Instead of a suit, she wore a white hoodie dress with green melting letters spelling Boo! on the front and a black Phantom logo patch on the shoulder. Underneath she wore black leggings and white boots.

She gave them all an awkward smile and rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, sorry about that. I can’t always control my flight when I’m sleepy.”

“Phantom?” Paulina asked.

“Uh, kinda,” the ghost chuckled. “I’m Dani, er, Danielle that is. Danielle Phantom. Danny’s my cousin.”

“Ghosts can have cousins?” someone said as the popular girl ran over to hug Dani, tears in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for your loss!”

“Loss?” Dani asked, phasing through the other girl’s grip and floating up so she couldn’t get grabbed again.

“You haven’t heard?” Dash asked. “The Fenton’s they, uh…”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. It’s why I’m here. I wanted to see how Danny’s doing after all that.”

There was silence. No one knew how to tell her.

Finally, Valerie took a step forward. “Dani -”

“Nope,” the ghost girl cut over her as she slowly spun around, eyes taking in the cafeteria. She smiled and said, “Well, if you guys see my cousin, let him know I’m looking for him.”

“You’re not going to find him,” Star said. “He… He’s dead.”

Dani frowned and turned to her. “Uh, duh, has been for two years or so. What’s your point?”

“No, I meant he’s gone. The Fenton’s destroyed him.”

The ghost girl stared blankly at her, then looked around at the others. “What?”

“It’s true,” Kwan said.

“You… You all think the Fenton’s killed Danny?”

There were nods from all around, barring one table.

Dani laughed. “Wow, you’re all complete and utter morons.” She dug into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a phone. “I’ve got to text Youngblood about this. Man, humans are wild.”

“I think she’s in denial,” Mikey said and a few of the other nerds nodded.

“I’m not in denial. You're all just stupid.” She put her phone away and looked them over again. “Right, I guess I’ll have to do this since someone in this room clearly has decided to keep his mouth shut. Probably because the situation is hilarious. Normally I’d go along with it, but I’m guessing if you’re all convinced, then the Fenton’s are too and I’m not about to give them that satisfaction.

“Alright, do any of you even know what a ghost is?” she pointed at Valerie when she tried to answer. “And I’m not talking to you because you’ve proven you’re a bigger idiot than most.”

“They’re creatures made of ectoplasm?” a jock offered.

“Well yeah, but that goes for anyone from the ghost zone. I’m saying a ghost specifically.”

“Wait, not everything in the ghost zone is a ghost?” Valerie asked.

“I thought I already told you not to talk,” Dani said. “Come on, no one knows what a ghost is?”

“Manifestations of ectoplasmic energy and post-human consciousness,” Sam said sarcastically.

“In simpler terms,” Dani snorted. “Come on, basic dictionary definition people.”

“Ghost, noun, the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the unseen world or to appear to the living in bodily likeness,” Nathan said.

“Yes, thank you, a ghost is a dead person, obviously,” Dani said, clapping.

“Everyone knows that. What’s your point?” a cheerleader asked.

Dani rolled her eyes. “My point is: how on earth do you people expect to kill someone twice? Danny died two years ago. He literally can’t get any deader.”

“But you can destroy a ghost,” Valerie said.

“Uh, no, you can’t. Like I said, stupid.”

“The Fenton’s have destroyed plenty of ghosts before,” the secret ghost hunter growled.

“Correction, they’ve destroyed entities. Very different. Entities are living creatures, just ones made of ectoplasm. They’re basically the ghost zone’s version of humans and animals. And since they’re living, they can die. Unless they have a stable tie to a ghost, like myself. Then it gets weird with technicalities and can be entirely different for every entity. I really don’t have the time or patience to explain exactly how killable I am. Just know that I’m a living creature, but ghosts like my cousin are dead, and therefore immune to death via having already been there and done that.”

“The Fenton’s report said they vaporized Phantom,” Mikey said.

“Well, yeah, I’m sure the Fentons destroyed all his ectoplasm, the fu-uh-udging jerks, but that’s not going to destroy a ghost. They might manifest within the zone or human world through the use of ectoplasm, but their consciousness exists in a plane of existence within the zone that can’t be touched. If a ghost’s ectoplasm is destroyed, they’ll simply reform within their lair. Might take a day or two depending on how strong they are, but they’ll be back to full power soon enough.”

“So mi armor is alright,” Paulina gasped, clutching her chest and Dani mouthed mi amor. “Why has he not shown himself? Is he so strong that he’s taking longer?”

“Actually, the stronger a ghost is, the faster they reform. Danny probably didn’t take a day. No, if he knows what’s going on -- and I’m sure he does -- then he’s probably sitting back enjoying the show. He’s probably got plenty of Quit telling everyone I’m dead jokes lined up for the next time he’s spotted. I know I would and the two of us are crazy similar. Also, it’s common courtesy to leave a ghost’s haunt alone for a few days if they have to reform, so he likely hasn’t had a reason to show up.”

“How could none of the ghost hunters know you can’t kill a ghost?” someone asked.

Dani raised an eyebrow. “Have you met the Fentons? They're some of the best hunters in the world and they don’t know the difference between an entity and a ghost. The parents at least. Their kids are smart enough to have actually asked a ghost how any of this works.”

Many turned to look at Danny, only to see the boy resting his chin in his hand and looking entirely too pleased with the proceedings.

Mr. Lancer’s first-period class suddenly remembered a similarly smug Danny calling them all idiots the same way Dani had and knew he’d be laughing at them if he could make a sound.

“If entities are living creatures, then the hunters really have been murdering people?” Star asked.

“Eh, not as far as I’m aware. Sapient entities don’t really like being in this world any more than you like being in the zone. Everything just feels off, unsettling, unnatural. Entities tied to ghosts don’t have that problem since ghosts bridge the gap, but again, we tend to be unkillable in our own rights. So really the entities that hunters usually end up with are the non-sapient kind that accidentally stumbled through a portal and couldn’t find their way back. So it’s less murder and more animal abuse.”

“Is the ghost you’re tied to Phantom?” Paulina asked.

“Yeah. I’m also tied to my dad, but I’ve been working at cutting that tie.”

“Why would you want to cut ties with your dad?” Kwan asked.

“Because he tried to kill me.”

The bell rang before anyone could react.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. Tell Phantom I’m here if you see him. Also, tell him to stop hiding like a jerk and just get the jokes over with.” Dani waved goodbye then flew back up through the roof.

Dash turned on Danny as soon as she was gone. “You could have told us Phantom wasn’t dead, Fentina!”

Danny blinked innocently and made an X over his throat.

“You know what I mean!”

He smirked and typed into his text to speech app.

“And lose Phantom his chance to make a Quit telling everyone I’m dead joke? Never.”

With that, he stood up and left the room, his friends chasing after him.

“Danny Fenton, you jerk, get back here and explain all that!” Sam shouted as they slipped through the doors.

The news spread quickly from the school. While the Fentons waved it off as nonsense, other haters were less sure and the rest watched the skies with hope.

It wasn’t until Friday that Phantom finally showed his face.

At first, people weren’t even sure the ghost that had shown up alongside Dani to fight Technus was even Phantom.

The ghost was covered in short white fur and had curling horns that seemed to be made of ice. His face was blank except for a single pure green eye on the right side of his face, which had black markings trailing from it like he’d been crying tar. His chest was caved in, like his ribs were smashed in.

Or removed.

Then people noticed the way the silver hair on his head was in Phantom’s style, though his bangs fell to his chin like Dani’s. They noticed that the ragged black pants he wore were the torn remains of his suit. They noticed the Phantom logo on the gear-shaped pendant necklace hanging from his neck.

He was completely silent, which fueled the idea he wasn’t Phantom, though he often made gestures that ticked off Technus while making Dani laugh.

Several people called out to the Phantoms when the fight was over.

Dani glanced at Danny, who shrugged, then they came down near the ground.

Lance Thunder was the first to reach them alongside his cameraman and asked the obvious question, “Are you really Phantom?”

Danny’s eye squinted with amusement and Dani smirked.

“Yes,” she said. “I am Phantom. Dani Phantom. With an I.”

Danny nudged her, shoulders shaking and she gestured towards him.

“And this is my brother. Also Danny Phantom, but with a y. Clearly the inferior spelling.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck and dug his knuckles into the top of her head.

“I, uh,” Lance glanced between them. “We had heard that you were cousins.”

“Nah, we changed our minds,” she said, squirming away. “We’re siblings now.”

“If he’s Phantom why does he look like that?” someone from the crowd shouted.

Danny made a few gestures and Dani shushed him.

“That reference isn't as funny if I say it for you.”

“What’d he say?” Lance asked.

Danny gestured her forward and she sighed.

She threw her hands up and announced, “He’s been twaumatized!”

He doubled over with silent laughter and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that funny, you dork,” she huffed and shoved him hard enough to send him spinning. “Also, Sissy is going to have another conversation with us about using humor as a coping mechanism if you keep it up.”

“Can you explain?” Lance said.

“We can, the question is should we?” Dani asked Danny, who shrugged and made a few signals. “Yeah, alright. So a ghost’s form is modeled after their mental state. Trauma alters a person’s mental state. Therefore, trauma alters a ghost’s form. Danny went through some trauma a week ago, hence he now looks like our yeti friends with some Clockwork thrown in for good measure.”

He nodded and thumbed one of the watches lining his left forearm.

“It’s not that unusual. Ghosts change all the time. Technus did it awhile back. It’s usually not this drastic, but hey, it’s not every day a ghost wakes up to find themself on an examination table with their chest carved out like a pumpkin.”

Rubbing his chest, Danny shrugged. He made a few gestures.

“Is that sign language?” Lance asked.

“Eh, kind of,” she said, making a so-so motion. “The Ghost Zone has a universal language. Not all ectoplasmic beings can speak it, but all of them can understand it. Since he already knew it and can no longer speak, his body is naturally translating it into sign language. I still hear it as if he were speaking English though. Which is nice because it means I don’t actually have to see him to get what he’s saying, but I have absolutely no idea how it even works. He is learning ASL though.”

“Why can he not speak? Does it have to do with not believing he has a voice after the trauma he went through?” a woman shouted from the crowd.

The Phantom’s blinked at her, then turned to each other.

“Sissy would like this one,” Dani said before facing the crowd and setting her hand on his chest. “Lady, he’s got no lungs. No lungs mean no breathing. No breathing means no talking. It ain’t that deep.”

The song “Spooky Scary Skeletons” started playing and Dani pulled a phone out of her pocket. She answered the call with, “The better Phantom speaking… Oh, hey, Sissy.” After a second she pulled the phone away slightly and gave Danny a look. “Sissy’s watching the broadcast and I was right, she’s not happy about the traumatized joke.”

Danny made a few gestures.

“I’m not telling her that. You can tell her when we get home.” She put the phone back to her ear. “Yeah… Okay, we’ll be right there. Bye, love you.”

As she put the phone away, someone asked, “Was that your sister? How many family members do you have?”

“Yeah, she’s our older sister. It’s just the three of us since we kicked our parents out for filicidal reasons. Clockwork’s kind of Danny’s weird legal guardian/grandfather/guardian angel/court-appointed babysitter/thing, but he refuses to be called grandpa and won’t freeze time for Sissy and I so we can take naps like he does for Danny so I don’t know if he counts. Anyways, we’ve got to go now. Bye!”

Danny waved and the two flew off.

“Freeze time?” someone said.

“Their parents tried to kill them? That’s what filicidal means right? What the heck?” someone else added.

“Did she insinuate yeti are real?” a third muttered.

With that, the crowd began to disperse, groups discussing the events as a city-hired work crew pulled up in trucks to clean up after the fight.

Just another day in Amity Park, a nice place to live.

[phantomchick]

List of wips - aka struggles

Call Me A Jason Todd fic I started two years ago and still go back to poke at longingly, will the second and final chapter ever be posted? Who can know for sure.

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I tell myself that I don't need Anyone (But the truth is no one needs Me) Another Jason Todd fic I haven't completed, posted two years ago for whumptober, it was the only day of whumptober I participated in, intended to be full of Captain Atom and Jason Todd interacting during the fall out of Bludhaven getting chemo'd but he doesn't show up in the first chapter and have you ever tried to read Infinite Crisis? It's a fucking mess. With this wip I have a close to justifiable excuse in that I refuse to write without knowing the canon, and reading through all the canon that's relevant is A Task.

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The Monster in The Man A Merlin fic floating around my drafts, currently at a good bit over 5k wherein Merlin gets POSSESSED by an old enchantment gone mad. Written because a Merlin fic I read ended on a horror style cliffhanger and I couldn't handle it so I charged my way through the first 2k of a sequel and I've been adding to it ever since. Angst with a hopefully happy ending, if I ever frikking finish it.

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The Dragon Lord In the aftermath of his father's death after Merlin inherits his father's dragon lord abilities he notices some minor changes to his interactions with his friends, the thing is that Merlin is a dragon lord and unusually what he hoards is people, things might just turn out the better for it.

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Maelstrom A Naruto time travel fix it fic that wouldn't leave me alone until I got the first chapter out, ironically it has left me entirely alone since I finished the first chapter and I have no idea if inspiration for it will ever return or when that will be.

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You Don't Know Anything Long long ago in a land of asks and a time of legend @paradise-runway sent me a fic request for "one where the other Bat boys find out the circumstances of Jason's death and resurrection and their reaction?" it has been lingering in my drafts haunting me ever since, someday, someday I shall fulfill what has been promised.

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Of Curses and Covenants A longfic exploring the magical underbelly of Gotham's history, focuses on the intertwined relationship of the Wayne Family and the Zatara Family brought about by how often Waynes through the generations have ended up being cursed. I have an index of all the curses ready, the problem with this one is the plot and the story.

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Vicki Finds a Bat (temporary title) Vicki Vale stumbles upon a still alive young adult Jason Todd at a wafflehouse on the way back from snooping into Cobblepot's latest criminal schemes. Convincing the young man to go back home to his loving father might prove more of a challenge than she thinks however. (will have a happy ending if I ever fucking finish it, for now it looms in my drafts like an unhappy gargoyle)

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Hug Deficit A fic about Jason being touch starved and his family fixing it, hurt/comfort all the way, post resurrection.

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Stephanie Brown and The Mansion of Man Pain Robin Era Steph, she and Alfred have pumpkin spice lattes together, it's their thing because I say it is. Includes, Alfred raised 5 boys counting Bruce, he's not sure how to handle a little girl and Bruce trying to dad plus Steph trying her best. Would be a lot easier to write if I was any good at comedy.

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Another Time, Another Place Some twenty years or so after their death, Martha and Thomas Wayne appear in the middle of Wayne Manor's ground floor parlour room, the major problem with this? Not only are Bruce and Dick away, Alfred's on holiday in England! Which is why Jason as the eldest has been unwillingly nominated by his younger siblings to deal with the situation at hand. Martha and Thomas in this are heavily inspired by @unpretty's amazing portrayals in her fics with them.

- Queen Blackfire and the Lazarus Lord An au with Soulmate identifying marks: Jason Todd was having an okay time as de-facto leader of The Outlaws, a band of misfits and rebels with hearts of gold (or at least silver) saving the world the best they could and filling in the gaps the more straightforward heroes tended to miss while they were at it. Then he found out he was soulmates with the Alien Warrior Queen bent on declaring war on planet Earth if the Justice League didn't find her soulmate for her. Things with his friend, team mate and potential future sister in law Kori just got super awkward and the only good thing he can find about this situation is how angry (and protective? But maybe he's just imagining that) Bruce seems over the whole thing.

Side note: Kommand'r freaked out during the years Jason was 'dead' and accidentally brought peace to a huge chunk of space and intergalactic society via building up her empire after throwing herself into work to escape the grief.

- To Grasp The Hand of a Fox Naruto and Kurama travel back in time to save the world but unfortunately they land in the same moment that Kurama's just been put under a genjutsu by Madara Uchiha, Naruto has to make his way to Konoha and wake Kurama up before the villagers seal him away inside Mito. Can he save his friend in time to save them all?

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Those Winter Sundays Mcu fic. Snapshots of Tony working hard for the avengers and no one noticing. Civil War Team Iron Man.

- Salvation Rides a Solar Wind Iron Man fic in a Science fiction / Western style fic where Tony's presence is described through the eyes of the aliens he helps. Au where the war with Thanos goes very differently. The type of fic that needs like 5 multi chapter fics in a single series to truly shine, hence why I will likely never finish it.

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And We Break Away Again Jason goes back to Talia after Damian is brought back from the dead by Bruce. It's not that he begrudges his little brother his resurrection, the opposite, but he can't ignore what Bruce did to him by taking him to the magdala valley and he can't ignore what Bruce doing for Damian what he didn't do for him, (do for Dick, do for any of them besides the blood related one) means. So he decides to go back to the only person who ever seemed to understand why he wanted to avenge himself in the first place, the only person who seemed to agree that he had a right to be angry that he'd died at all, the only person he can trust to hold him together while he feels like he's falling apart that won't judge him against the heroic mold while they're at it. Not sure if this will be a oneshot or a series but we're going good Talia with this one regardless, DC's been ruining her lately but through fanfic all things are possible so fuck them.

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Fan The Flames In the aftermath of a magical fire taking hold of the Daily Planet in Metropolis, Superman is missing, can Batman and the rest of the Justice League find their friend as well as the identity of the evil arsonist before Lex Luther does it first?

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In a Whisper (In a Wish) Ichigo Kurosaki protects people, it's not just who he is, it's what he is, down to the core of his very soul. The only problem is, that a few weeks ago he sacrificed half his soul to protect the world. It aches inside where he knows something important used to be. When everyone he cares for is avoiding him and he's starting to feel more like a shadow than a person, that aches at him too and he can't help but wish, quietly, privately, painfully, to himself if no one else that things were different, that he wasn't so broken or so alone. But if wishes were fishes they'd fill a whole sea (just be careful not to whisper them within the hearing range of the Hōgyoku).

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An Honest Conversation (Is A Bitter Thing To Crave) Jason kidnaps Bruce but things don't go as Bruce expects. First of all the reason Jason was able to kidnap him was because Stephanie of all people was his insider, why would she support someone Batman knows she's only met once. And second of all the reason he's been abducted - So that Jason can drug them both with the same substance. And when Bruce asks what he's doing this for Jason only responds, "We don't trust each other enough to have a truthful conversation otherwise" and refuses to say anything more while they wait for it to kick in. What will be revealed by this forced honest encounter on both sides? -

carrying the world on thin shoulders Midoriya Izuku deserves better from literally all the adults in his life so this is part whump part hurt comfort part fix it fic that sprawls out from time to time but it's pretty bad tbh, at some point I'll probably make it neater and give it something resembling a coherent plot. Hopefully. -

Trust Issues HP fic. Harry gets dosed with a potion that's supposed to reinforce your strongest survival instinct, the person who drugged him might've intended to be helpful but said potion happened to be at extra strength and he was given what would be a normal fix for the regular version but for this one is twice the recommended amount. Great.. The biggest problem about all this - beyond his internationally wanted godfather Sirius endangering himself by hiding out in a cave near Hogsmeade against all rational advice, his best friend Ron hating him, everyone in school besides his other best friend Hermione also hating him or avoiding him and the entire Goblet of Fire problem - is that he can't bring himself to trust anyone enough to tell them what's wrong.

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Truth is Treason in the Empire of Lies A post marvel avengers story, thor pov probably, made because I like to dive into a pool of thor & loki sibling feels sometimes: Starts off as Thor regales his new human shield brothers with the story of his banishment and return to Asgard ending with Loki falling into the Void and the Avengers have some questions, questions Thor had not thought of, remarks on things that Thor doesn’t know how to explain away.  After he goes to Loki’s cell and asks him some things he becomes more and more angry despite having no one he can punch > Gets drunk and criticises Sif and The Warriors Three after they try to calm him down > mention of Loki still being underage by Aesir standards during Thor 1 seeing as Thor was being crowned due to being of age in the movie > heavy inspiration drawn from queen regnant by peaceheather. “For while the Treason I detest, the Traitor I love still.” Currently just an outline.

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Separation Split personality disorder Red Hood and Jason Todd, alternatively, Red Hood is a demon/parasite latched on to Jay. A lot of work necessary considering right now it’s currently just an idea inspired by a cool tumblr fanart.

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A Trinity of Head Wounds The dcu trinity in the aftermath of a fight against some alien invaders (or something along those lines), whump, hurt/comfort, starts with them arguing, ends with them bleeding on each other in a friendship way, whole thing should take place in a single room on the watchtower and be a oneshot so it's gotta be a short and sweet one-two gut punch with the feelings which is difficuuult.

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A Stark in The Stars an mcu fic, a really over complicated mcu fic, mostly because of Steve Roger's timeline fuckery, Tony's alive but he's not supposed to be, but so are a lot of people who were dead but aren't now you might say what with the snap and the blip. The thing is that Steve's timeline fuckery is making it so that everyone keeps getting confused between the two different timelines of events, obviously more confused the more that their characters were connected to the films/the events that were altered, the punchline of this particular fic though is that Tony's still alive and he's unaware of the timeline of events where he died. And as he's currently in space he's also unaware that everyone on Earth thinks he's dead (because why wouldn't they? he died in endgame after all). That makes this fic super tough to write because like ultimate unreliable narrator right here and not sure how to tie in the whole 'oh wait actually everyone on Earth thinks I'm dead because of the canon timelines' thing in or at what point of the story to do that at. The fuckery of it all gives me a headache. Plot is hard. Also all of that's basically background to the actual focus of most of the fic thus far which is Tony travelling around space in an Iron Man suit up until the point where it won't be background.

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Magic Chained Merlin au. When you put magic restraining cuffs on Magic himself you don't just bind him you bind all magic the world over. It is therefore, infinitely lucky that Uther Pendragon never became aware of this fact.

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A Child in The Cold bnha Midoriya deserves better also Recovery Girl and Aizawa have shit to answer for as far as I'm concerned.

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[profoundnet]

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR JUNE 2020!

Featuring works by @blueraven06, @castielslostwings, @delo0821, galium, @goldenraeofsun, @imbiowaresbitch, @jemariel, @masterofevilmonkeyness, @multifandom-fanatic, ravens_tell_stories, @saywhatjessie, @shadowkat-83, shikaro, @spnsmile, tiamatv, @thefandomsinhalor, @vulfmert, and @wookieefucker under the cut.

Redamber79 - @imbiowaresbitch - Redamber79

Free Hugs (E, 2.6k)

Castiel is moving into his dorm for his first year when his older brother Gabriel trips him into the arms of a half-naked hunk holding a sign reading FREE HUGS. Then Cas meets his roommate...

Tags: No Archive Warnings apply, meet-cute, explicit, roommate AU

The Fall of Castiel (E, 5.8k)

Another fight, Castiel's blue eyes flashing as he pinned Dean to a wall for his stubborn refusal to accept his role. A desperate attempt to convince the angel to join Team Free Will. Dean could never have anticipated how well it would work.

Tags: no archive warnings, explicit, canon-adjacent, wing king, grace powered orgasms, claiming, confessions

“Yes, Sir.” (E, 3.8k)

Dean's earned himself a spanking, but keeps losing the count. Cas decides it's time to up the ante for his punishment.

Tags: no archive warnings apply, bdsm, explicit, safe sane consensual, safewords, top cas/bottom dean

Pizza Man (E, 3.4k)

Dean and Castiel are roommates in their third year of college. Cas frantically shows his best friend a horrible typo on the latest ad for the pizza place where he works, just knowing it's going to ruin his night.

Tags: no archive warnings apply, roommates au, explicit, PWP

Grow For Me (E, 20k)

Dean is desperate for a housemate after Charlie moves out. After interviewing several potential tenants with near disastrous results, he meets Cas. Can the lawyer with the strange habit of talking to plants fit into Dean's life?

Tags: no archive warnings apply, omegaverse, POV Dean, explicit, Roommate AU, Complete, Happy Ending, mating cycles/in heat

FriendofCarlotta - @delo0821 - FriendofCarlotta

Adventures in Demon Summoning (E, 10k)

When Dean's friends get high and decide to summon a demon, it seems like a monumentally bad idea. Of course, even Dean couldn't have guessed that the whole thing would land him with a grumpy, sarcastic angel who seems dead-set on following him around.

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, Meet-Cute, Soft Boys

JessJesstheBest - @saywhatjessie - JessJesstheBest

Five Times Dean felt Out Of His Depth and One Time He Definitely Was (G, 10k)

It was with a sore shin and a broken model P-51D Mustang that Dean began to consider he wasn’t quite ready to be a foster parent. Or it's exactly what is says in the title.

Tags: Human AU, Fluff, Parenthood, foster parent au, Established Relationship, 5+1 Things

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings

Fire and Ice (E, 165k)

Firefighter Dean Winchester has somehow tumbled headfirst into a whole new kind of relationship with his quirky paramedic best friend, Castiel Novak. What was only meant to be mutual relief from their high-stress jobs is quickly developing into something more, but with all the missed signals and crossed wires, can these two ever figure out that they're so much closer to being on the same page than they think?

Tags: Firefighter Dean, Paramedic Castiel, Dom Castiel, Sub Dean, Friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, BDSM, all the sex.

multifandom-fanatic - @multifandom-fanatic - multifandom_fanatic

We Can’t Keep This Undercover (T, 5k)

Cas and Dean have been dating for a month, but Sam is clueless, despite the fact that they haven't been hiding that they're together. Or so they thought. After reflecting on Sam's obliviousness, Dean deviously suggests he and Cas try to be as obvious as possible to see how long it’ll take for Sam to realize. Cue Dean and Cas' escalating attempts to prove they're together, and Sam mistaking every scenario until Dean just can't take it anymore.

Tags: Oblivious Sam Winchester, Clueless Sam Winchester, Fluff, Feels, Teasing, Idiots in Love, Sneaky, Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Plotting

Put a Ring on It (T, 3.2k)

After non-stop researching, Cas is in the Bunker's kitchen making Dean lunch with the radio on when he hears Single Ladies by Beyoncé. Suddenly he's stuck by the lyrics and realizes just how much he loves Dean and therefore needs to put a ring on him. Cas goes out and buys a ring, and a week later he proposes to Dean in the library of the Bunker. Will Dean say yes?

Tags: Marriage Proposal, Proposal, Engagement, Castiel Proposes Marriage to Dean Winchester, Inspired by Beyoncé, Crack, Song: Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It), Romantic Fluff, Love, Fluff

galium - galium

scents & sensibility (M, 5.7k)

There are three things Dean knows about betas: (1) Betas are boring. (2) Betas can be passive. (3) Betas have a mediocre sense of smell (well, unless you're Cas).

Tags: AU, A/B/O

ravens_tell_stories - ravens_tell_stories

i’d rather drown (E, 3.7k)

Was there anything weird that you noticed?” “Weird? Other than the fact that I could see you while you were several states away?” “Yes, Dean,” Cas sounds impatient now, which is never a good sign. “Weirder than normal.” Dean tilts his head, weighing his options, then sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, I, uh… I could see your wings.” ~~ wing!kink destiel oneshot.

Tags: No archive warnings apply, smut and a little fluff, pwp, handjobs, set season 8

Jemariel - @jemariel - jemariel

Cas is a Tummy Sleeper (T, <1k)

A short fluffy ficlet. Cas is sleepy and snuggly. Dean is smitten. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Tags: Cuddles, bedsharing, human!Cas, fluff

MasterOfEvilMonkeyness - @masterofevilmonkeyness

“Ah yes. Me. My brother. And his Angel who sneaks in his bed when they think I’m asleep” (SFW)

Art created for Meme about Sam, Dean and Cas.

Vulfmert - @vulfmert

Ghost Road (SFW)

Art created for the fic Ghost Road by Kris-Kenobi in the Bottom Dean Big Bang and it’s lovely.

Tags: Michigan, Canon Compliant, Human!Cas, Only One Bed, Case Fic, Post Series. Collaboration with fic by Kris-Kenobi.

spnsmile - @spnsmile - spnsmile

Undercover in the Bunker (M, 3.5k)

Castiel invites an angel to the Bunker to 'observe' the Winchesters in order to change Heaven's view about his charge, only to end up making Dean just a little miserable and himself a little jealous.

Tags: Domestics,  Castiel in the Bunker

Devastatingly Yours (G, 3.9k)

When almost everyone—demons included— all but told Dean that his angel is the hottest, most devastatingly handsome angel in the face of the seven seas, he not only believed them, he’s secretly and most exclusively Cas’ number one fan. So when the angel is recruited as a model in the middle of a case, what is Dean to do?

Tags: Established relationships, domestic, fluff

Saved by a Stranger (E, 43k)

Rule One: Never change the deal. Rule Two: No names. Rule Three: Never look in the package. Ex-Special Forces operator, Alpha Castiel Novak adheres three strict sets of rules, which he never breaks as a mercenary "transporter" who moves goods—human or otherwise— from one place to another. No questions asked. Until his new delivery contains a deal-breaker pretty face hot-headed Omega—who turns out to be his true mate— Castiel knows rules have to be changed especially with a dangerous group intent to get their hands on his Omega. Castiel wants to see them try. Destiel x The Transporter AU

Tags: Non-con,  Graphic Depiction of violence

The Room Service (E, 39k)

‘Hands off, Pants on!’

Dean Winchester has groomed himself to be a professional room service staff providing hotel guests with all the necessities they need while catering to all mundane whims and complaints except one: keep hands off the staff. Until a mysterious blue-eyed guy enters the 7th heaven floor and shakes Dean’s steamy dreams. And after saving Dean from one dangerous stalker, it seems like the restriction is practically flying off the window for his grumpy blue-eyed hero.

Hotel x Destiel AU

Tags: Romance,  Fluff,  First meeting,  Jealousy,

Baby Plushie (G, 1.1k)

A Baby. Who says Dean doesn't need it?

Tags: Romance,  Fluff. Inspired by art by @gabester-sketch.

Shadowkat83 - @shadowkat-83 - Shadowkat83

Better Than I Know Myself (T, 1.1k)

He had to make a choice; he didn't want to. The choice was between the two people he cared about the most: Cas and Sam. They both knew him so well but on different levels. How could he possibly go through with this?

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Songfic, Fluff, Love, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Shikaro - shikaro

Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome (E, 1.5k)

the one where Dean comes untouched for the first time

or the one where they meet at a bar

Tags: PWP

blueraven06 - @blueraven06 - blueraven06

College days (G, 1.2k)

It's Castiel's first day of college and he is already late.

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

Magic Quarantine Ride (M, 1k)

“Cas,” Dean growls as he stalks past the hospital's general information desk. “What the hell are you doing here, you psycho? Go home - where it’s safe!” Cas whirls around. “You forgot this,” he says hurriedly as he rushes forward with the necklace he made for Dean. “I told you, it will provide protection.” He waves it in the air like a crazy person trying to ward off demons. “You are insane,” Dean says flatly.

Tags: They were quarantined, witch!cas, college nurse!dean, fluff and angst, mentions of COVID-19, mutual pining, emotional hurt/comfort, discussions of PTSD

thefandomsinhalor - @thefandomsinhalor - thefandomsinhalor

A Driver Worth His Salt (E, 68k)

Twenty-year-old Dean Winchester hates fixing up stolen cars on the side for Gordon Walker. But with his grandfather’s dry-cleaning business slowly dying, medical bills piling up, and his younger brother Sam abandoning the prospect of attending college because of their grim situation, Dean convinces himself that it isn’t as reckless as it seems.

When everything goes belly up, leaving him in a troubling position with the wrong people, a representative of the Garrisons, the city’s most powerful and notorious family, offers Dean to help him with his situation in exchange for his employment.

The job is simple: drive the passenger a few times a week to yet-undisclosed locations and return with said passenger without fail. Don’t ask questions. Be on time. Be discreet.

And never interact with each other outside of work.

Shady, but simple.

So, he accepts.

But once he meets the passenger in question—the sharply dressed and rough-looking Castiel Novak—Dean finds that abiding those rules may be more complicated than he had anticipated.

Tags: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Settings, Crimes & Crimes & Criminals, BAMF Castiel, Slow Burn, Hurt Sam Winchester, Trauma

wookieefucker - @wookieefucker - wookieefucker

The Eye of the Storm (T, 8.5k)

“Only fifteen miles to the highway,” Dean said cheerfully, reading from a sign on the side of the path. Bobby groaned loudly. “Shoulda known I’d get my body back only to put it through its paces right away.” Amara left with Chuck, promising that she was going to give Dean what he needed. Maybe what he needed was different than her first impulse.

Tags: eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, season 12 AU, canon AU, canon-typical violence

tiamatv - tiamatv

Spicier Ginger (G, 4k)

Kevin held out a flat piece of dough and spooned in a teaspoon of pork mixture. “You can’t put too much in them or leave any air bubbles inside," he explained, folding up the dumpling. "‘Cause they’ll explode.” “So kind of like packing shotgun shells,” Dean joked. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Dean,” Kevin agreed, very dubiously. “Sure.”

Tags: Cooking, Domesticity, Kevin Tran Lives!, Winchester Family Fluff

To Sleep, Perchance (T, 3.4k)

Dean wasn’t used to good dreams. But he was used to taking what he could get—so when he dreamed of a lean, compact body pressed against his back, an arm heavy over his waist, he settled into it, hazy and comfortable.

Tags: Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon Compliant, Dreams vs Reality, Mark of Cain

Ephelis (E, 1.8k)

“I think someone has sent me a picture of their genitals.” Castiel looked down at his phone. “Erect.”

Tags: AU-Canon Divergence, Dick Pics, Plot What Plot, Fluff and Crack, Season/Series 09

Phaleonopsis (E, 4.8k)

“Here, let me.” Cas’s long fingers plucked away a dead leaf from a calathea, and Dean watched helplessly as Cas rubbed the bare spot where the leaf had come away with a fingertip. “See? Isn’t it nice to let someone touch you now and again?” “Goddammit, Cas ain’t the creep, I’m the creep,” Dean muttered, and put his head down on the desk.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gardening, Roommates, Fluff And Smut, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean

(Atypical) Love Story (E, 13.k)

“Are you… scenting me?” the man in an oversized beige trench coat asked, suspiciously, in a deep gravel voice that ran down Dean’s spine. "Why? I really don't smell like much." Dean’s mouth sagged open. “Dude,” he answered, honestly, “You smell amazing.” He’d never seen anyone look so shocked at a compliment before. “O-oh.”

Tags: Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics; Scenting; Top/Bottom Versatile Dean/Castiel; Alpha Dean/Omega Castiel; Enthusiastic Consent

Pigment (G, 1.6k)

Dean wasn’t ashamed of what he was doing or anything. He didn’t think he had any reason to be, hell. So what if he liked to spend a little of his downtime just putting little blobs of paint inside neat little lines?

Tags: Canon Compliant, Hobbies, Painting, Fluff

[satonthelotuspier]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️

Day 30 - Wish - 1.4k

The form this fic takes is mostly exerpts from correspondence between WWX/JC. I think the idea was probably better than the execution in the end but this is the concept I wanted to go with for Wish.

This does take place in the same verse as from Day 13 and Day 29 but you don’t need to have read either, Day 13 involves the cave mentioned in this fic and both include the discussions that set this up, in summary.

Disclaimer: I’ve never given myself this level of sad from writing before - maybe my poor execution didn’t get it across very well but if you want to avoid sads I’d probably give it a miss just in case.

The letter was waiting for Wei Wuxian when he returned to the Jingshi that evening. He knew it’s origin due to the familiar lotus seal. He took the letter and a jar of Emperor’s Smile which Lan Wangji had left out for him and walked out on to the veranda to read it.

The aggressive, bold script was definitely Jiang Cheng’s, but he read the content several times, at first convinced he’d misunderstood. The letter was neither addressed nor signed, but it didn’t need to be.

Jiang Cheng to Wei Wuxian

I wish my brother knew that I listened while we were trapped in the cave. That I heard him and deep down I wanted that too.

I wish he knew how much this grief had consumed me and eaten me up from the inside until there was nothing else left for years.

Someone said to me recently that now all accounts are settled its time to look to the future and let go of the past.

I wish I knew if that was possible, but I want it to be.

I wish my brother knew that I will try, that I want to make the things I said in that cave no longer true.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how he felt and found himself pacing, trying to digest both what Jiang Cheng was and also wasn’t saying.

And really he felt a flare of pride at him, because wasn’t he adapting the best he could to the circumstances to make the best chance of making himself understood?

It was incredibly insightful of him.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t comfortable talking about his emotions; he never had been and his mouth and temper often ran away with themselves. This was without a doubt the best way for him to calmly and logically approach this kind of discussion. You had to consider what words were put into a letter, meaning it was thought out. If you were angry you had time to calm down and think better of what you’d written, whereas words couldn’t be unsaid. And it was so much easier to say some things when you didn’t have to verbalise them in the presence of the other person, especially when you weren’t actually writing to that person, but instead to some nebulous, unnamed entity.

And most importantly it was cathartic.

He dashed back into the Jingshi and put a brush, ink and paper out onto the desk and began to write in his own rushed, careless hand.

Wei Wuxian to Jiang Cheng

I wish my brother knew how happy I was that I had the opportunity to speak person to person with him in the cave, even though what we discussed wasn’t easy for either of us.

I wish he knew that talking through the hard, hurtful things is an important first step to being able to let them go, so even though what we discussed was mostly at odds, they were things that needed to be said.

I wish there was a magic that could erase the past, or dull it’s effects. I would have never ever hurt him or any of my family on purpose.

I wish I could have protected them all; I promised Madam Yu so faithfully, yet still failed in everything but one thing; saving his cultivation.

I wish I knew whether being honest from the start with my brother would have made any kind of difference to the outcome.

Jiang Cheng to Wei Wuxian

I wish my brother knew it wasn’t his responsibility to look after us, he was as much a child as the rest of us. There were schemes within schemes none of us could have guessed at and we were all equally pawns.

I’ve often thought of how much I regretted being so easily manipulated into leaving his side after the Sunshot Campaign. I wish he knew that.

I was so young and naive, easily lead and too concerned over what others thought of me. I wish I’d told them all to fuck off as was my first instinct.

But what they did, the whispers in the ear, was insidious and easily overlooked by an inexperienced boy struggling to build up a destroyed sect from the ashes of Lotus Pier.

Wei Wuxian to Jiang Cheng

I wish my brother understood that I didn’t blame him for being easily manipulated, the forces at work were masters of the underhand and fooled the entire cultivation world for years.

I would never deny it still hurt though.

It was lonely and scary to be the only thing standing between those innocent people and destruction.

I wish I hadn’t tried to interact with the world at all; if I’d just stayed on the Burial Mounds and given no-one a target to aim at I wonder if everyone would still be alive. I failed the Wen’s as completely as I failed my own family

If there was one thing that that I would struggle to forgive my brother for it would be abandoning his principles to cold hard revenge, taken on innocent people. I wish he knew that and I wish he knew that I will never understand that.

Jiang Cheng to Wei Wuxian

I wish my brother understood what was happening in the cultivation world at that point and what kind of compelling lies were being spread.

I wish you understood you’d have been that target no matter what.

It was easy to look back after the second siege of the Burial Mounds, after the Guanyin Temple and see the lies for what they were.

In the time since Yunping I’ve had time to consider the issue of our golden core. I wish you’d never given it to me. I would have rather died then than allow you to do that for me. I wish the Wen’s had killed me sooner and you’d been given no chance.

I’d rip it out now and give it you back if the only person in the world who was capable of transferring it wasn’t gone.

How fucking dare you make that kind of decision for me, Wei Wuxian? I wish you knew how much I hated you for that, when the world thinks I should have been on my knees thanking you.

I would have rather died. I was ready to when I drew the Wen guards away from you on the street in Yiling. Why didn’t they just cut me down there? I knew that it would be death when they caught me. I fucking wish it had been, why did you have to save that empty broken husk I became? I didn’t want to be saved.

The correspondence had become more emotionally charged over time which was to be expected; both the letters Wei Wuxian had sent and received occasionally had traces of tear stains on them, but this latest showed Jiang Cheng had lost all ability to separate his emotions from the subject and he’d fallen into addressing Wei Wuxian directly instead of that imaginary third correspondent which had kept them both relatively safe.

It was probably the reason Jiang Cheng’s final revelation; the secret he’d held close to his heart for twenty years had finally come to the fore, because he’d let his emotions write the letter and not his brain.

And the truth, finally told, broke Wei Wuxian’s heart in two. He had thought there couldn’t be anything left in this world that was able to hurt him; he had been so wrong.

He wept long into the night, folded in Lan Wangji’s comforting embrace. For the first time it didn’t help, because all he could think about was that no one had been there to hold his brother when his world had collapsed around him.

Despite Wen Ning’s best intentions he’d been told about “their” golden core in anger and whether he’d deserved it or not it would have ripped him apart as viscerally as his own disclosure had to Wei Wuxian; yet there would have been no comforting arms or soft words to ease Jiang Cheng’s pain.

He knew himself what it was to be lonely and scared and bearing a huge weight of indebtedness to someone you knew you could never possibly pay back.

It was a long time before he could bear the thought of picking up a brush again to reply.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Dead Man Walking (2/?)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: T, eventually E.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’...

[One] [AO3]

---

Dead Man Walking

Two

Robert Sutherland was not having a good day.

The last thing he remembered was trying very hard to stay awake. He had been in his office in Chequers, attempting to look over the latest proposals from the Foreign Office regarding a potential delicate trade crisis that had only come onto their radar as Parliament had been breaking up for summer. Not wanting to cause a panic by recalling Parliament, he’d decided to just host a few meetings at Chequers to try and get ahead of the game before everything started up again later in the year.

Now he was thinking that probably hadn’t been such a good idea, since instead of waking up in his office where he had failed in his fight against oncoming exhaustion despite the copious amounts of coffee he’d been drinking, he had woken up in a morgue. God only knew where. On an autopsy table. With no clothes on.

He tried to count his blessings. At least he hadn’t woken up in one of the fridge drawers.

That was pretty much the only blessing he could think of right now, because his head was pounding, and the young woman who’d rescued him wasn’t letting him have any painkillers. He wasn’t sure if rescued was the right word for it.

“Think about it,” she was saying as she searched through the morgue office’s drawers and filing cabinets for something, muttering under her breath about her father not keeping anything in a logical place. “You were dead. A doctor declared you dead and you were about to be autopsied so that they could determine the cause of death. Then some official looking men in suits – maybe MI5, I don’t know – started delaying the autopsy. Why would they do that? You’re the Prime Minister. You’re pretty much the most important man in the country. They would want to know how you died asap so that they can announce to the country at large that you’re dead and parliament can start performing damage limitation and everyone who hates you can start partying in the streets.”

“You are not helping at all,” Sutherland growled.

“Just stating a fact. Anyway. They keep delaying the autopsy, the police are convinced your death was suspicious and the Suits were livid when Dad sent your clothes for forensics.” Lacey shrugged. “They’re trying to cover up the fact that your death was suspicious. You didn’t die, Prime Minister. You were murdered. Only, whoever murdered you didn’t quite succeed. And since you have no markings of a violent death…”

Sutherland did not need to be reminded that Lacey had seen him completely starkers.

“…Then that leads me to believe that you’ve been poisoned. With something that would make it look like a natural death, a heart attack or something. And the Suits, who are likely working for whoever poisoned you, want to delay the autopsy so that whatever it was that was used to poison you has had time to break down and won’t show up as anything suspicious on the toxicology report.”

Lacey slammed the final drawer shut and cursed under her breath before going out into the main morgue, telling Sutherland in no uncertain terms not to wander off. Sutherland had no idea where he’d wander off to in the first place; someone would probably find him traipsing the corridors in search of an exit and assume that he’d escaped from a secure ward, and if he told them that he was the Prime Minister, then he’d simply be branded as delusional.

Lacey returned, triumphant, holding up a sterile syringe still in its wrapper, and a couple of test tubes.

Sutherland edged his chair away from her.

“No.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “I did three years at medical school and I’m in my sixth of studying forensic chemistry. I have taken blood before, you’re in safe hands.”

“No!”

“Look, do you want to find out what killed you or not? If we don’t do it soon then it’ll have broken down in your bloodstream and there’ll be no evidence.”

“I want to get the fuck out of here!”

“Yeah, well…” Lacey let out a heavy sigh, leaning back on the desk. “Look, I’m trying to help here, ok? I could just as easily throw you to the wolves in Suits out there and see how you get on then. I didn’t ask to be saddled with a not-dead Prime Minister whose party I didn’t even vote for. I have even less idea who I ought to trust than you do! Anyway, no painkillers until we work out what poisoned you. I don’t want to re-poison you by giving you something that’ll react to whatever it was that you were given before and I don’t want the painkillers to mask whatever it might have been so that we can’t work out what it was in the first place.”

Sutherland sighed, rubbing his forehead and willing the pain to go away. They were stuck in a stalemate, but at least Lacey did seem to have his best interests at heart, even if her bedside manner left a little to be desired. Maybe it was a good thing that she hadn’t finished medical school.

Still, he was as morbidly intrigued to know how he’d been unsuccessfully assassinated as Lacey seemed to be, and it made sense to get evidence against his would-be killer whilst he could. Against every better judgement that was currently screaming at him, he held out his arm.

“Very good. I knew you’d see reason in the end. If only you could see reason about that student loan forgiveness.”

To give her credit where it was due, she was very professional about the whole thing, washing her hands thoroughly and putting on gloves before swabbing his arm with disinfectant.

“Now, because they’re usually getting blood out of people without pulses down here, there are no tourniquets, so we’ll have to make do.” Lacey pinged an elastic band around his arm and twisted it to make the veins in his elbow bulge. “Hold that and make a fist.”

Sutherland did as he was told, mainly because Lacey was now holding a hypodermic and he didn’t want it being jabbed anywhere that it shouldn’t be.

“OK. Look away now if you’re squeamish. Sharp scratch.”

Within a few seconds, Lacey had filled two test tubes and was releasing her makeshift tourniquet, pressing cotton wool down on Sutherland’s elbow as her other hand searched for plasters before giving it up as a bad job.

“So, now that you’ve drained me dry, what next?” he asked.

“Well, someone needs to do a toxicology report on these samples,” Lacey said. “I’m slightly too invested in the case to do it myself. I mean, someone has to keep you alive now that you’re, well, alive. Also, amazing as I am, I’m not fully qualified so anything I do probably wouldn’t stand up in court. But we’re in luck, because we are in fact in a hospital and I happen to know a lot of pathologists here.”

She grabbed her phone before Sutherland could protest, hitting a speed dial.

“Hi Dorothy! You know you owe me a massive favour for setting you up with that cute nurse from A&E? Yes, well, I’m cashing it in now.”

Sutherland zoned out as she talked, trying to remember something, anything that could have any bearing on the case. Everything was so fuzzy, but he couldn’t remember anything out of the ordinary.

If he had been poisoned, then it had been by someone close to him. There had been so few people around and they were all known to him personally. The thought was chilling, and he wished that he knew who he could trust. It was a horrible feeling, metaphorically looking over his shoulder all the time. Politics involved a lot of backstabbing, he’d been in the business of it long enough to know that, but at the same time, he never thought that anyone meant it quite that literally.

It was probably the coffee. He’d been drinking a lot of it and he’d forgotten dinner, so intent had he in his forceful mission to get everything solved before it dragged on too far into the summer recess.

Sutherland began to feel slightly queasy.

“Are you all right?” Lacey was off the phone, stowing the blood samples in her rucksack. “Come on, let’s get out of here before one of the Suits comes back and finds that you’re not dead after all. Or my dad comes back and tries to autopsy you anyway.”

Sutherland took a deep breath. “I need to call someone.”

Lacey raised an eyebrow. “All things considered, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“All things considered, we’re a dead prime minister and an almost-forensic chemist hiding in a morgue we’re not supposed to be in. I think back-up might be useful.”

“Ok, ok, I get your point, and I suppose I did just bring Dorothy into it. Who are you going to call?”

“Carrie, my chief of staff.”

“You trust her?”

“With my life.”

Lacey snorted. “Well, given the circumstances, you’d better.”

X

Moe had finally finished signing all the waivers, and the man in the grey suit with the grey hair whom all the other Suits were calling Sir had basically told him that if he broke any of the top secret agreements he’d just signed, he’d be locked up and the key thrown away and no-one would ever know where the body was buried.

He’d also told him that if anything ‘unusual’ were to crop up during the autopsy, then he should tell the Grey Suit Sir and no one else. It should not go on the autopsy report.

Moe valued his life and freedom too much to disagree. He was already in trouble for sending the PM’s effects to the police without leave from Grey Suit Sir.

Now, his shift was over and they still hadn’t given him the go ahead, so he had informed the Suits in no uncertain terms that he was going to have to go and put the Prime Minister away until he came back on shift now, because otherwise they’d have to go through the entire rigmarole again with another pathologist.

The Suits had actually seemed rather relieved about that, and Moe’s suspicions of them were growing by the minute. Still, he kept his mouth shut, and he didn’t complain when one of them accompanied him down to the morgue.

That was when things started to go pear-shaped. Because the morgue was empty.

Not only was Lacey no longer in the office, the Prime Minister was no longer on the table.

The Suit looked at Moe with a look that was slightly anger, but mostly fear. A kind of ‘oh crap, I’m so fired’ expression.

“Where’s he gone?” he asked.

Moe shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been under observation ever since he arrived. Maybe he snuck out whilst I was in the canteen and you were chatting up that nurse in the purple scrubs.”

The Suit scrubbed a hand over his face. “This is impossible! He was dead! He can’t have snuck out anywhere! He must have had help! I mean, someone must have stolen him.”

Moe just shrugged again, collecting his coat from the morgue office and surreptitiously sliding Lacey’s discarded headphones into his pocket before the distraught Suit could see them.

“Well, if you’d let me get going on his autopsy sooner, we wouldn’t have this problem,” he said calmly, although he was feeling anything but calm. Someone had stolen the Prime Minister, and it was looking very likely that the someone was his own daughter.

He thought back to the brief conversation that he’d had with her in the canteen whilst the Suit had been distracted by the purple scrubs. About how he didn’t need to worry about the PM going off overnight. And asking where his effects were. And Lacey had been in the morgue the entire night, unbeknownst to the Suits.

Moe was beginning to think that the Prime Minister wasn’t actually dead after all, and he really wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing.

[tillie-bean]

Echodragon Reads: P4 Chapter 3.

Hey guys, Echo here, and today we delve into chapter 3 of the worst thing I have ever read. I hate my life.

 Chapter 3: Battling a Boisterous Boy

 EchoDragon: Why? Why do you have to do this to me?

 I yawned softly as I sat at my desk.

 EchoDragon: Oh, no, I’m having flashbacks to the first chapter!

 It was 1:01, meaning only 119 minutes were left for the day.

 EchoDragon: Stop clock! F*ck sake, nobody does that! They count down the hours, not the MINUTES.

 Then there was only two more days of this.

 EchoDragon: There WERE only two more day, author. Grammar is important.

 Is it weird to be counting down the seconds until I wasn’t expected to attend this institution anymore?

 EchoDragon: *deadpan* is it weird that I don’t care that you just changed tense?

 Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those stupid brats that moan whenever they have to use their underdeveloped brains for 3 fifths of a second.

 EchoDragon: Suspiciously Specific Denial!

 However, what I hate is the weeks when we aren’t learning anything, and that is what we are currently doing.

 EchoDragon: You! You are the one who is ruining grammar! I’ll kill you!

 The teachers are just killing time and ‘phoning it in’ until the latest batch of ungrateful brats leave for the year to go out into the real world and learn just how soul crushing the experience is.

 EchoDragon: It’s not that bad! I’m doing all right!

 I am sure the best part about being a teacher is running into your previous, annoying students and seeing how much the real world had crushed their spirit and their dreams.

 EchoDragon: umm, that took a dark turn. I’m pretty sure that teachers aren’t that cruel.

 I am sure if I was a teacher and I ran into one of those insects like… James and Rachel I think is their names… and I saw them with their eyes full of despair with their ambitions and annoying mannerisms ground into nothing I would feel so validated and smug.

 EchoDragon: Not one single comma was seen in that entire sentence. I hate my life. Also, what was that? I have no idea what just happened. The first paragraph was just a horrible mish-mash of words that the author just pulled out of her ass. F*ck this.

 I drifted off as I thought back to yesterday. After I was given my Pokemon, Professor Juniper also entrusted me with the most important part of the scholarship of hers, A Pokedex.

 EchoDragon: Why? You don’t have to sit an exam to get a Pokédex! Author just wanted to make Bitchy look better than everyone else! *Flips a table*

 Most people think the most important part about this scholarship is the rare Pokemon.

 EchoDragon: the starter Pokémon aren’t that rare, you know. Anyone can walk into the lab and be given one, as shown in the previous chapter.

 However most people are idiots, and idiots are too busy distracted by the cute Pokemon to realize how important a small, portable information resource on every Pokemon in existence.

 EchoDragon: Yeah, because you didn’t notice how cute they were! You didn’t notice at all!

 It is like carrying an entire library with me everywhere I go.

 EchoDragon: oh, please! Bitchy, are you seriously trying to tell me that you can READ? You’re a liar. A lying liar who lies.

 It is literally priceless, which is probably why so few are made and why you can’t just go to some store and buy one.

 EchoDragon: Wait, you can’t? So where do all of the Pokémon Professors get them, then? I refuse to believe that they aren’t made by a company somewhere. That’s like saying that you can’t go any buy a DNA sequencer. You CAN, but most plebs don’t know where to buy one, and they cost a hell of a lot of money. But scientists are given research funds, and said research funds pay for things like fancy equipment. I refuse to believe that each Pokémon Professor only ever has two to give out. F*ck you, Bitchy. Why don’t you pay attention to the world around you? Then maybe you wouldn’t be so f*cking stupid.

 As I was trying to find something to distract myself, I realized I had subconsciously pulled my Pokeball out of my pockets.

 EchoDragon: yes, she pulled one Pokéball out of multiple pockets. Anyone else see the problem with that? As a side note, I completely lost where we were in that stupid Pokédex speech, and forgot that Bitchy is supposed to be at school.

 I don’t even know why I brought my new Tepig, but I did.

 EchoDragon: I know the answer!

 As someone who (unlike most people my age) has never owned a Pokemon it was always quite fascinating to me seeing people get so attached to Pokemon.

 EchoDragon: Oh, I get it. She’s a special little snowflake because she has never owned a Pokémon before. F*ck you.

 I hypothesised that it was something similar to the attachment a mother feels for their baby, and now that I own one I can confirm that hypothesis.

 EchoDragon: Wait, she has a BABY? How old is she? She’s still at school! I take back everything I said, give this girl some RESPECT! She’s raising a kid! What? Oh. She meant that she now has a POKÉMON. Yeah, never mind. *takes back the respect*

 Maybe Pokemon and humans have evolved to form quick and powerful connections with each other?

 EchoDragon: Because that would be so shocking! That NEVER happens in nature! *Slams down a textbook on co-evolution*

 All I know is if it can effect someone like me it must be powerful.

 EchoDragon: NO. F*CKING. COMMAS.

 “You have a Pokemon?”

 EchoDragon: Who? Who is speaking right now?

 I looked up after hearing the high pitched squeal, and saw that Rachel insect was looking at me shocked.

 EchoDragon: Why is she shocked? It’s not an unusual occurrence in the Pokémon universe.

 “Good, it can analyse information. Pretty soon you will have the intellect of an insect.”

 EchoDragon: Why do you speak like this? It makes you sound so stupid. Author, I know this is called Predictable, PRETENTIOUS Pokemon Plot, but do you have to be so pretentious? You swallowed the Thesaurus, didn’t you?

 I mean what is the point of asking stupid questions like that?

 EchoDragon: *With her head in her hands* what’s the point of reading this stupid fic? *Sobs*

 Of course I have a Pokemon. Who the hell would bring an empty Pokeball with them to their school?

 EchoDragon: Oh, I don’t know, Bitchy. Maybe Pokémon Trainers? You know, they might want to catch some new Pokémon? Wait, what am I talking about? Of course they wouldn’t. Because Bitchy said so! *flings everything off her desk in a rage*

 Then again, this girl was a little on the thick side, both intelligence and appearance wise.

 EchoDragon: Oh, no. you did not just f*cking say that. Ok, author. Imma get real with you, right now. Do you know how many people have issues with their weight? I do. I know, because I’m one of them. It’s an actual problem with actual consequences. Do you know what makes it worse? People like you. People like you who think that just because someone doesn’t have the ‘perfect’ body shape, or isn’t the ‘ideal’ weight, you think you have the right to take the piss out of them, and tear them apart. Do you know what happens when you do that? People become obsessed with their weight, until they can’t see how they really look, and are convinced that they are fat. What the hell is wrong with being bigger? Nothing. Do you really think that calling someone fat makes you any skinnier? It doesn’t. Likewise, calling someone stupid doesn’t make you any smarter. So instead of trying to tear people down and make their lives a misery, why don’t you think about what you write, and actually realise that your words do have an effect. Hell, their making me angry right now! But even when you aren’t directing it at someone, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t going to offend them. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

 For someone who cares so much about their appearance, she sure seems happy to let herself go.

 EchoDragon: What’s the betting that author went to school with a girl called Rachel, and is now trying to get revenge? She’s starting to sound like Stephenie Meyer.

 Rachel looked over to her boyfriend, and whispered something into his ear.

 EchoDragon: ‘Hey, James… wanna do it so we can leave this God-awful fic?’

 He looked back at me, smiled his creepy, greasy smile and turned back to her.

 EchoDragon: He just had a burger, didn’t he! I want a Goddamn burger…

 That smile literally made me shudder, how creepy can you get?

 EchoDragon: It’s very creepy; author has no idea how punctuation works! *cowers in fear*

 The rest of the school day went by more or less without incident, unless you treat insufferable levels of boredom as an incident.

 EchoDragon: Which is why you just skipped over it.

 However, after class was dismissed and everyone left something weird happened.

 EchoDragon: Bitchy saw a comma! She had no idea what it was. It was so scary, she died of fright.

 I was standing there at my locker as I noticed a herd of my insufferable classmates had started to crowd me.

 EchoDragon: Please tell me they have pitchforks and torches…

 I had no idea why, but I assumed about 5 of them decided to surround me and thanks to the stupid sheep mentality most of the populous possesses everyone else just started huddling around me.

 EchoDragon: I… don’t even care anymore. Wake me up when something actually happens. *sleeps*

 I looked at them and sighed, I really didn’t want to interact with these sheep, but I had to get through them.

 EchoDragon: *snores*

 I closed my locker, picked up my bag and walked towards the crowd before stopping in front of them.

 EchoDragon: *still sleeping* Why doesn’t she just go a different way?

 “Move.”

“Say it nicely.”

 EchoDragon: *wakes up* what? Ok, that sounded a little bit… creepy? Things like that are only said in rapey situations. Just saying.

 They guy in front of me creepily giggled after he finished talking.

 EchoDragon: So he’s an eight year old girl? Why the f*ck did I wake up?

 How patronizing can you get? Why would I act polite to you when you treated me like a child?

 EchoDragon: Bitchy, I don’t know how to break it to you, but… you ARE a child.

 “I am not going to say it nicely, now move.”

 EchoDragon: *facepalms* come on, Bitchy. Even I know when to shut up!

 “Awww nah Jasmine, we got a few things we need to talk about. You can’t go anywhere until we are finished talkin.”

 EchoDragon: Who the f*ck talks like this? Scratch that, who the f*ck is speaking? The author never actually tells us. You could add ‘he said’ or ‘she asked’, and at least then it would be slightly easier to follow this story.

 I turned around when I heard the new voice, and saw the king and queen of the sheep standing right next to my locker.

 EchoDragon: I really don’t need a running commentary, Bitchy. Show, don’t tell.

 Well, at least Rachel and James explained why the sheep were here.

 EchoDragon: Why is she calling them sheep? If she was smart, she would call them Mareep.

 “And why are people surrounding me like this?”

 EchoDragon: Because they all want to kill you. I’m leading the mob. *waves pitchfork*

 “Ahhh, cus word got out what I am bout ta do ta ya.”

 EchoDragon: No joke. That’s actually what was written. What I find weird is that in the first chapter, James could actually speak like a normal human being. Also, if he was really that bad at speaking, he wouldn’t have said ‘I am’. Just saying.

 I looked at him, was this some sort of lynch mob?

 EchoDragon: Whenever author uses commas, she uses them in the wrong places. Just once, I would like to be able to read a sentence and not insert commas in my head.

 Not that’s stupid, why the hell would those people get a crowd to attack me like this?

 EchoDragon: I know the answer!

 Well they wouldn’t it is that simple.

 EchoDragon: Does anyone have a comma?

 But something was definitely wrong here, something weird.

 EchoDragon: No, Bitchy, NOTHING IS HAPPENING.

 “And what exactly can insects like you do to me. Apart from beating me up which if that is what you are here to do is quite pathetic.”

 EchoDragon: Can anybody understand what she just said? I bloody can’t.

 Some people might think that is digging my own grave, but honestly I doubt comments like that are going to trigger anything.

 EchoDragon: Correct, Bitchy. They won’t. Because they make NO F*CKING SENSE.

 If my comments were the straw that broke the camel’s back then they were probably going to attack me anyway.

 EchoDragon: Oh no! She had apostrophe itis! Kill it with fire! *Breathes fire*

 Also I get enough abuse hurled at me, I don’t want them to think I am inconsistent.

 EchoDragon: *whispers* what the f*ck?

 “Wat I’m gonna do is I am gonna get dat pride of yurs and smash it inta peeces.”

 EchoDragon: What the actual f*ck? Why is he speaking like this? Why? There are so many red lines on my screen at the moment, I’m pretty sure that my word processor is going to die again. IF MICROSOFT GETS TO ESCAPE, I CAN TOO! DON’T LEAVE ME TO DO THIS ALONE! *dies* *word processor dies*

 What the hell is he talking about?

“What the hell are you talking about James?”

 EchoDragon: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 “Well, I know dat you got yur Pokemon yesterday right?”

 EchoDragon: Oh. My. Arceus. Why is he talking in text-talk? I get it, he can’t speak. But how the f*ck do you pronounce ‘yur’? Answers on a postcard, please!

 Not right, left.

 EchoDragon: What?

 But he was correct.

 EchoDragon: I know he’s right. We just spend an ENTIRE F*CKING CHAPTER waiting for you to get the stupid thing.

 Congratulations to him, he wins fabulous prizes.

 EchoDragon *as the author* ‘haha, I’m so funny! This joke is hilarious! I’m so smart, and so is Jasmine!’ *whispers* F*ck you.

 “Yeah why?”

He sneered and smiled his usual, shiver inducing smile. God that guy is disgusting.

 EchoDragon: Hey, Bitchy, maybe you should tell everyone how horrible James is again. I think some people might have missed it.

 “Well, I myself have my own Pokemon. And me and Rachel ova here were thinkin we could battle you.”

 EchoDragon: *EastEnders music plays* Shock f*cking horror.

 I sighed, the crowd was probably here to witness what was happening.

 EchoDragon: You think?!

 Not many people here had Pokemon, so Pokemon battles were a rare spectacle that people flocked to, similar to the crowds that gathered in the colosseums of ancient civilisations whenever there was a fight between a man and a Pokemon.

 EchoDragon: But you said that you were the only one who didn’t have a Po- actually, why am I even surprised? Anyway, author, what games have you been playing? Pokémon and humans fighting EACH OTHER FOR SPORT?  I must have missed that. Oh, that’s right. It never happened, but you wanted to create your own source of canon. F*ck you, whore.

 Those were dark days in human civilisation.

 EchoDragon: Today is a dark day. F*cking blue skies, and I’m sat here reading this s*it.

 “And why would I waste my time, and potentially risk my precious Pokemon’s health fighting someone like you?”

 EchoDragon: *singing* never mind, I’ll fight someone like yooooouuuuu... *head desk* I don’t know, Bitchy. Maybe because you’re a f*cking Pokémon trainer? It’s what they DO, you f*cktard.

 This time, Rachel stepped up in front of James and decided to answer me in her completely not charming and incredibly shrill voice.

 EchoDragon: We get it, you don’t like her. Shut up.

 “If you are so much betta than the rest of us why the hell wouldn’t you want to battle us huh? After that little speech of yours I am sure you want to demonstrate how much ‘betta’ you are than the rest of us. But if you’re too scared I guess you aren’t as great as you say.”

 EchoDragon: How old are you, author? In what universe do people older than four act like this?

 She more or less repeated the same thing twice, which was annoying.

 EchoDragon: Here’s an idea, author. If you yourself can see that you have just repeated the same thing over and over, maybe you should stop being redundant, and start trying to fix it. If you think your own writing is annoying, instead of pointing it out in your own story, CHANGE IT! Then I wouldn’t be reading it, and I would be happy again.

 But even more annoying was that, whilst I was fully aware that she was using a childish tactic to trick me into helping her that only an idiot would fall for.

 EchoDragon: Wait, what? What was annoying? I’m so f*cking confused! That sentence should not have ended there!

 The problem was whilst I wasn’t an idiot, I was falling for it.

 EchoDragon: Bitchy is an idiot = confirmed.

 Something about what she was saying was tickling something in me, infuriating me.

 EchoDragon: Umm, DUH. That’s the whole point!

 I looked up at the crowd, I probably couldn’t make them move so I might have to battle anyway…

 EchoDragon: Or you could say no…

 No that is me trying to justify fighting these people by tricking myself into think I haven’t fallen for something idiotic.

 EchoDragon: How could you miss that typo?

 Dammit why do I have to be so self aware…

 EchoDragon: *laughing* what? What the actual f*ck? Do you even know what being self-aware IS?

 Whatever, what do I have to lose?

 EchoDragon: your Pokémon, maybe?

 Nothing except my pride in myself, which doesn’t matter too much to these people.

 Echodragon: YOU wouldn’t be the one battling, though, would you? Your Tepig would be. So you clearly don’t care about your Pokémon, which you claim to love like a child. F*ck you.

 I sighed before I dropped my bag.

 EchoDragon: why the f*ck did you drop your bag? Oh wait, I don’t care!

 I reached down and pulled out the red and white coloured ball of mine.

 EchoDragon: Purple prose is purple.

 I stood up.

 EchoDragon: I don’t care…

 “I am not necessarily happy about being goaded into this, but I accept your challenge.”

 EchoDragon: Hey, No one is FORCING you to battle. You could just walk away. It’s not like you met his eyes or anything.

 There was a loud ‘OOOOOOOOOH’ing sort of noise from the crowd, probably to signal that they were surprised I accepted the challenge.

 EchoDragon: No, it was to signal that you’re a little bitch.

 Honestly though it sounded like that mating call of some weird predatory beast found in the middle of the Hoenn rainforests.

 EchoDragon: what rainforests? There are no rainforests in Hoenn, unless I’m very much mistaken.

 James scratched his face as he laughed.

 EchoDragon: Why did he do that? Did he have an itchy face?

 “Lady, I’m gonna make ya take back that little speech of yers.”

 EchoDragon: Why is everyone so pissed off about the speech? I know, it was horrible, but she’s done so many other s*itty things. I really don’t think they should be focusing on one event. They should instead focus on how much of a s*itty person she is.

 The only thing more gross than his smile and laugh was the way he butchered the correct pronunciation of basic words.

 EchoDragon: you know, I really don’t think I could have worked that out on my own. Thanks for the clarification. Now go sit on a cactus.

 “And once I beat you it will become apparent how below me you truly are”

 EchoDragon: Ok, I have no idea who is speaking. I’m assuming it’s Bitchy, but for all I know, a random person could have started speaking.

 Once again this man and his girlfriend started laughing, I don’t know why since I didn’t say anything that warranted such a reaction.

 EchoDragon: They looked at your face, Bitchy. That’s why they laughed.

 “You are at least honest you whore.”

 EchoDragon: Aww yeah, slut shaming! Yeah, you tell her, James/Rachel!

 There was that annoying, shrill voice again.

 EchoDragon: It would be so much easier just to say: ‘Rachel said’ at the end.

 The name however annoyed me, since by all definition I am not a whore.

 EchoDragon: Just keep telling yourself that, Bitchy.

 I have no idea why people like her seem to lose their cool and devolve into insults so easily but what should you expect?

 EchoDragon: Because when you insult people, you’re trying to hurt them. So she called to a whore to hurt your feelings, because you treat her like s*it all the time.

 “Dis is gonna be a one vs one Pokemon match, mine vs yurs. Simple enuff right?”

 EchoDragon: This doesn’t happen before a battle, you know. You just decide to battle.

 James pulled out a Pokeball as he explained the rules to me.

 EchoDragon: I really f*cking hate the writing in this fic. I know he’s explaining the rules. I can read.

 I half expected it to be covered in dirt, so I was pleasantly surprised when it rather clean.

 EchoDragon:Hey, author? I think you that sentence.

 Looks like whilst he couldn’t maintain a clean appearance he could maintain a clean Pokeball.

 EchoDragon: that’s because he likes to touch his balls…

 “let’s get this over with. I should be home by now. Go Vulcan!”

 EchoDragon: hmm. Let’s see how appropriate the nickname ‘Vulcan’ is, shall we? Ok, so Vulcan is a Roman fire God, commonly associated with volcanoes. Ok, I’ll give you that one.

 I threw down my Pokeball, and once it hit the ground my small pig Pokemon burst from it, before the ball floated back into my hand.

 EchoDragon: Pokéballs don’t float…

 Yeah I nicknamed my Tepig, so what?

 EchoDragon: there’s nothing wrong with nicknaming a Pokémon!

 And no I don’t care if you don’t like the nickname.

 EchoDragon: Was that supposed to be an author’s note? When writing in the first person, the character isn’t really supposed to be directing narration as if they know the audience is there. You’re breaking the fourth wall there, author.

 Once I had caught the Pokeball again my Tepig oinked loudly, and turned around and looked up at me smiling a stupid looking smile that made me smile myself.

 EchoDragon: Why are you saying that Tepig looks stupid? It’s adorable! You’re a little Bitch, and I hate you.

 “Pffffft you called your Tepig Vulcan, how lame can a bitch like you get.”

 EchoDragon: Of course. The ‘enemies’ don’t like it.

 I just explained that I don’t care if people dislike the name Rachel.

 EchoDragon: No, you said you didn’t care if people didn’t like the name VULCAN, Bitchy. Also, Rachel couldn’t hear you. She can’t read minds.

 Shut up, and stop swearing too it is unnecessary.

 EchoDragon: I don’t want to stop f*cking searing! Imma use all the Goddamn swear words I like, Bitch. You know what, you f*ckwit? I’m gonna swear in every bloody sentence from now on, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it! Peace out, mother f*cker!

 “Nickname or not, Imma make pork chops out of that pig. Go Patrat!”

 EchoDragon: *sniggers* Ok, that was pretty funny. I like you, James.

 James threw a Pokeball down as he shouted that and once it hit the ground it released a small, brown rat with eye that looked like the eyes of a lunatic in a children’s cartoon.

 EchoDragon: Ha! Get it! Patrat IS in a children’s cartoon! That’s so funny! *grabs scalpel* Get out.

 I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was ugly.

 EchoDragon: That’s funny, that’s how I felt when I first saw this fic!

 The unknown Pokemon growled at the back of my Vulcan, which attracted my Pokemon’s attention and caused him to turn around.

 EchoDragon: Oh, for f*cks sake, the Tepig is as stupid a Bitchy! I’m pretty sure it would hear someone talking and maybe think: ‘oh, things are happening, maybe I should turn the f*ck around instead of looking at this bint,’ but no. Vulcan the Tepig is cursed with stupidity. I’m so sorry, Vulcan. Your life will be short, and full of hatred. Let’s have a moment of silence for Vulcan the Tepig. He was too good to be this stupid. *Gross sobbing*

 Once it looked at the Pokemon that I recognised from studying as Patrat my Vulcan realized what was happening, and tried to intimidate it by growling. However it failed miserably at it.

 EchoDragon: If you recognised it, why did you say it was unknown? Are you really as stupid as you look?

 I kinda wish I knew more about that Patrat though beca… wait I am a moron.

 EchoDragon: I could have told you that!

 I have a Pokedex in my pocket,

 EchoDragon: And I have no f*cks left to give!

 You know, a device that is more or less a portable library.

 EchoDragon: Oh, God, don’t start on about the library AGAIN!

 I pulled out the Pokedex and opened it up slowly.

 EchoDragon: I don’t care. At all.

 Having used it on Tepig yesterday I knew how to use the basic functions, so I didn’t look like an idiot in front of this crowd.

 EchoDragon: Right. After using it very briefly ONCE, she knows exactly how to use it. I call bulls*it!

 Then again I don’t know why I care if they think I am an idiot or not.

 EchoDragon: I don’t know either, Bitchy. You don’t like these people, so why do you care what they think?

 I opened my Pokedex and pointed it at the Patrat, when the automatic scan feature was enabled.

 EchoDragon: you opened a Pokédex that was already open. Right.

 After a second of loading suddenly its screen was filled with information about Patrat, such as its potential move-pool, typing, information about the species and where you can find it.

 EchoDragon: I… think you may be confusing the Pokédex with the DexNav, which is similar, but NOT THE SAME THING! Dumbass.

 I looked at the Pokedex and using this information quickly came up with a plan.

 EchoDragon: Ok, I’m going to cheat here. The rest of this chapter is the single most boring attempt at a Pokémon battle that I have ever read, so I’m going to skip it, and just give you a quick run-down of what happened. Ready?

Vulcan the f*ckpig used Tackle. Tackle is never a plan. Patrat used Tackle. Both Pokémon got hurt. I don’t really get it either. Vulcan used Tackle. Patrat used Tackle. I try to kill myself from boredom. Tepig used Ember to, and I quote, “Burn that ugly Patrat!” Tepig used Tackle. Patrat faints. Then we get this gem.

 I won, as expected from someone like me.

 EchoDragon: The end! That was s*it. And guess what? Next chapter, author tries to throw a plot into the story! And yes, it is crap.

 Bye for now, Puddings!

~Echodragon

[fanfictionlive]

Speaking to an empty room: Why I'm abandoning ~500K words worth of work

Warning: Rant incoming.

If you didn't see my post a few months ago, I completed a huge fic for Percy Jackson that ended up being 40 chapters and 360K words. I started writing the sequel, which I'm currently 16 chapters and 179K words into. Obviously, I've put a lot of time into it. For awhile, I was proud of it.

However, when it comes to what fanfic readers want, I failed in one important regard: the entire premise.

Here's the thing. I get attached to characters and pairings like everyone else does, but that's not what drew me into writing fanfic. What really inspired me was the lore and the world, and all the possibilities they offer. I wanted to explore some questions that the canon never asked, questions that couldn't really be answered with the canon characters. In this case, the question was, "What would happen if the Titans had half-blood children too?"

Yes, I committed the cardinal sin of fanfiction writing: I wrote a story based around an OC.

I figured I would have a lower view count because of that, but I never guessed at exactly how much lower. I don't really do much reading in the fandom normally, but recently I decided to peruse some fics while suffering from a bout of writer's block to get inspiration. That, in hindsight, was a mistake.

I put a lot of thought and planning into my story. Outlines, research into good storytelling and character building techniques, hours of painstaking revising. Yet, it is immensely dwarfed in reviews, favorites, and follows by stories with 6 or 7 chapters, around 3K words total, of rather poorly written and error filled slash fics or smut.

I know, I know, I'm supposed to be writing it for myself, not for the reviews or the favorites. I am, in a way. Writing is therapeutic for me. But I'm not convinced it's possible to do it entirely for yourself. There's always at least a small part of you that wants people to read it, and hopefully like it. What I underestimated when I started this project was how few people would want to read mine. If I'd been smarter, I would've looked more closely into the fandom and gotten to know my market beforehand. People don't want long adventure/quest stories with fresh perspectives on an old premise. They want short and sweet high school AUs or slash fics, regardless of the quality.

That's not even a fandom specific issue. Many times, when a thread pops up on here asking for fic recs, there'll be the disclaimer, "no OC fics." When a discussion pops up about things people hate in fics, there'll be someone who says "OCs." What all of this tells me is that there's no real audience for my kind of story. I had three or four regular reviewers for a while, but they all seem to have jumped ship. My latest chapter, posted about three weeks ago, has gotten no reviews. With a word count as large as mine, picking up new readers is even less likely because of the time commitment. At this point, there's almost no one for me to write for except for myself. As I previously stated, easier said than done. You can tell yourself "You're awesome" into the mirror all day, and it will never feel anywhere near as good as when someone else says it to you.

Another part of why I wanted to write an OC fic was to get practice with building characters from the ground up, in preparation for hopefully writing an original work in the future. Fanfic seemed ideal for that, as I could focus on characterization without also having to worry about world building. Getting feedback on that end has been a challenge, because my regular reviewers wouldn't offer me much in the way of constructive criticism aside from "Brief summary of what happened. Hmm, that's good/bad. I hope we see canon character soon!" Hell, I had one reviewer who I'm convinced was just sticking around to see what happened to Nico (The fandom favorite character, star of about 75% of all slash fics). Regardless of the lack of helpful feedback, when I go back and reevaluate how I wrote the characters, I feel fairly confident that I know where I went right and what I could do better next time. So for the most part, that goal is satisfied already.

What all of this amounts to is a decision to abandon the project in favor of something new. It's a hard decision, as it should be. I've gotten attached to my characters, as any author does. But when it comes to their stories, I already know how they end. I don't feel I need much closure, because whether I write it or not, the outcome is the same to me. Sure, I don't get the satisfaction of having finished that story, but for the reasons stated above, I'm not sure that would be worth the investment. With the small amount of time I have to write due to university and family issues, I can't justify spending more time on a project that:

Is centered on an almost universally frowned upon trope

Will always be outperformed by much shorter and lower effort slash fics

Has a very small, dwindling readership

Is not likely to acquire more readers

Has already satisfied its main goal (character building practice)

Instead, I feel I should spend my time working on something new. I have a few ideas that I'm eager to try out, like that battle royale crossover I posted about a couple weeks ago. Perhaps when I get a good premise, I can start working on something original. But as far as this fic goes, I can't keep beating a horse that was already dead to begin with, no matter how long it already is. As the quote goes, "Don't cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it." I'll remember it fondly, and I'll take the lessons it taught me into my future work. The first and most important lesson that I should've learned before I started: You can tell an OC centric story, just as long as you like hearing yourself talk into a rather empty room.

End rant.

Tl;dr: I wrote a long OC fic, that was a mistake, I'm cancelling it and moving to something different.

submitted by /u/praisetoRNGesus [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans http://ift.tt/2ofw2bN