#I love to continue this but this is literally all I have thought up for it lol let me know if you’d want to read more of if I can leave it!

[brawberryz]

You're a fucking weird hacker

Batfam Yan! × Troll Hacker! Reader

《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You were a fucking pain

For months you had been bothering the batfam with your stupid pranks, they started off as mild as sending viruses to their emails or making up gossip on the internet

But now? Now you were just annoying, you managed to piss off the whole batfam even batman himself

You managed to hack the batcomputer and fill it with viruses, you even managed to hack Barbara which was quite surprising, your skills with technology went beyond what they had anticipated

No matter what they did they simply couldn't find anything about you, it's like you only existed on the net

One thing was clear, you were much smarter than all of them and you used that intelligence to make their lives miserable and annoy them

But the straw that broke the camel's back was when you threatened to show their secret identities to the world, it wasn't an empty threat you sent them evidence and it was clear that you weren't lying

You had the most important family of heroes in the palm of your hand

From that moment on they became more serious with their investigation, they tried to find anything that could tell them something about you or your information

But every time they found a clue it was just a joke yours, you yourself put those "clues" which were links with viruses that would easily render a computer useless or to weird porn pages and when I say they were weird, they were WEIRD

You were always two steps ahead of them, what surprised everyone the most is that you did nothing with that information

You just wanted to scare them and have fun for a while, your jokes continued but they were no longer as constant as before

Until days after the incident an anonymous email arrived, batman hesitated to open it but after confirming that it was not some kind of virus or joke he read it

He was surprised when he saw that it was a huge world document where you detailed with evidence the next plan of riddler

He was surprised at how well detailed and written it was, you had put the date, place, time and even minute of the attack

At the end there was a small message in the email that confirmed that it was clearly you who had sent that

"Take this as a small apology for my bad behavior :3"

A small smile formed on the man's face, maybe you weren't as bad as he thought

And so the days went by, from one day to the next you had changed now you helped them by filtering information about villains and criminals making their plans fail

In that short period of time you made the negative opinion of the batfam that they had of you change

In that time, you became great friends with Barbara and Tim

You and Barbara loved technology and programming, while with Tim you were both nerds with similar tastes

Of course, you communicated with them from anonymous messages but they still managed to get to know you a lot more

But then a small slip occurred, when you sent one of your reports about a future plan of Joker you forgot to use an anonymous email and you sent it from your main account

That's where your problems began, in a few hours the entire batfamily had your information, from your age, face and address

They discovered that you were barely a teenager with apparently too much free time

They also discovered You didn't have parents, you were an orphan teenager who lived in a small apartment and worked on weekends in those geeky or otaku stores.

Clearly you almost fainted when you opened the door to your apartment thinking it was the pizza delivery guy, you were surprised when you found Batman staring at you.

God, he looked even bigger in person.

"What are you doing here!?"

You said surprised walking backwards, you didn't imagine that he would be able to find your address, although you shouldn't be surprised it was Batman having literally doxed you was the calmest thing he could do

"I want to talk to you"

He tried to sound as serious as possible but it was almost impossible, in his mind he could only think about the person who literally made him lose his mind in person looked so fragile and small

"Well I don't want to talk, so get out"

You were already tired of this, you thought that if you helped him in his cases he would leave you alone but it seems that you awakened that protective paternal instinct

When you were about to close the door he held it tightly preventing you from closing it

"Really?"

You looked at him angrily, you couldn't believe he was so stubborn You let out a sigh of defeat and let him in

"Well, what do you want?"

You said as you laid down on your little couch, he just stood there looking at you

"This place is very dangerous"

That made you raise an eyebrow, why did he care about you?

"So?"

"You should move, the crime rates in this area went up too much"

You just frowned at that comment, who did he think he was to tell you where to live

"I don't care, I've lived here all my life I know how to take care of myself, I don't need your protection"

You didn't need a man you barely knew to take care of you, you had been alone since you were 13, you knew very well how to take care of yourself

After that strange interaction with Bruce you started receiving checks in his names, the water bill, the electricity bill and even your apartment were paid

But apparently it wasn't enough with the man's visit if he didn't also come to visit every fucking member of the batfamily

It started with Richard coming at night and opening (breaking) your window and talking to you as if you were some kind of younger sister, it made you uncomfortable the way he thought he knew you in every way besides being too clingy like hugging you for hours or not wanting to let go

Then he arrived Jason, you didn't have that many problems with him, the only thing you couldn't complain about was that at least he respected your personal space

He used to talk to you about books he read or was reading while you pretended to listen but deep down you just wanted him to get the hell out of your house

Tim wasn't as talkative as Jason or Richard, but still his presence just seemed irritating and annoying to you

It seemed like he thought that just because you had the same tastes you were going to be friends, you hated that he didn't respect your personal space and filled you with questions

Damian, how I hated that little demon he only came to your house to bother you and ask you (force you and threaten you) to fix his things, like his Robin gadgets or to improve something

At least he paid you with the food Alfred made and if you were honest it was delicious, it was worth putting up with his orders if that meant being able to try that kind old man's food

With Barbara you only talked by text, although it bothered you how insistent she could be

Cass was very quiet, she used to come to your house at night and enter your room and watch you work, sometimes she went just to rest a while from the patrol or sometimes she just enjoyed your presence but even so you considered it weird or strange

Steph treated you as if she knew you all your life, she forced you to go shopping with her and go to spas together

It's not that you didn't enjoy it, you just hated being surrounded by people with all your being, plus you felt like she didn't even listen to your opinions, you felt like she was just using you like a toy

You did everything possible to stop talking to them, you even thought about moving somewhere else, with the money that Bruce sent you it was going to be more than enough to go to another city far from Gotham

Far from them

But you knew it was going to be useless, they knew everything about you, you knew that they were even capable of putting cameras hidden around your apartment just to keep a closer eye on you

If you tried to talk to Bruce and tell him he wasn't respecting your privacy he would just use the excuse that he just wanted you to be safe

You hated that he had control over you, that they had any kind of control in your life

It was too late to regret, all eyes were on you

And they weren't going to let you escape from them that easily

I'll leave this here before I go to sleep

byeee

[vigilxntesht]

𝙠𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙖𝙚-𝙗𝙮𝙚𝙤𝙠 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 — a sip of fate

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — kang sae-byeok x female reader

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 — thank u all sooo much for the love on my no-eul fic i love u all

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 — 1.6k

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚

your ordinary shift as a barista changes the moment she walks in—mysterious, distant, and impossible to ignore. when she returns, you can’t help but wonder: is this the start of something?

it’s a typical tuesday morning, and you’re perched at the bar of the coffee shop where you work. the afternoon drags on in near silence—hardly any customers, just the soft hum of the espresso machine and the occasional clink of a spoon against ceramic. you steal a glance at your phone to check the time: 3pm. a frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you resign yourself to what feels like an endless shift.

just as your boredom threatens to consume you, the little bell above the door jingles, signaling a new customer. you barely look up, expecting a regular, but the moment your eyes land on her, you freeze.

she’s tall, with short black hair and freckles scattered across her face like constellations. her gaze locks onto yours—steady and unwavering, causing your heart to skip a beat. you fake a cough, weakly trying to cover up your not-so-subtle reaction to her beauty.

you straighten up, offering her a polite smile. “hi! what can i get you to—”

“iced americano. no sugar.” her voice is sharp, cutting through yours before you can even finish. it takes you a second to adjust. oh. okay. you weren’t expecting that.

“um, sure, coming right up.” you mutter, clearing your throat. “you can grab a seat by the window if you’d like.”

she gives no response—just that same piercing stare before turning away and settling into a table near the window, as you suggested. you exhale slowly, only now realizing you’d been holding your breath. she stares at the wall in front of her, seemingly lost in thought as you begin to prepare her coffee.

you can’t help but steal a few glances in her direction. there’s something about her: something quiet yet intense, like a storm waiting to break. she seems so enigmatic, almost untouchable, and that only makes her more intriguing. then, suddenly, she shifts. her gaze moves from the wall…straight to you.

your breath catches. caught.

heat rushes to your cheeks as you quickly look away and focus on the coffee as if your life depends on it. she doesn’t react, doesn’t speak—she just continues to watch you, her expression giving away nothing.

after a couple of minutes, you call her over to the bar.

“hi, your coffee’s ready.”

she rises from her seat and walks over, her movements slow and deliberate. without meeting your eyes, she pulls out a five-dollar bill and hands it to you. you take it, exchanging it for her drink.

you offer a warm smile, hoping to crack through her cool demeanor. “thanks for your purchase. have a great day!”

nothing. no nod, no acknowledgement—just silence. she takes the cup and turns, walking straight out of the shop without another word. you watch as the door swings shut behind her, leaving behind nothing but the lingering scent of coffee and a spark of unexplainable curiosity settling into your chest.

you stand there in silence, replaying the brief interaction in your mind. that was… strange. she was beautiful—undeniably so. but before your thoughts can wander any longer, you shut them down. clearly, she didn’t like you. she barely even spoke, never smiled, not even a flicker of eye contact. whatever intrigue you felt definitely wasn’t mutual.

you finish your closing tasks, lock up the shop and start the walk home. you try to think about anything—literally anything—other than the mysterious girl from earlier. but no matter how hard you push her from your mind, she lingers. god, you’re embarrassing. you don’t even know her name. shaking off the thought, you focus on your night routine, trying to wash away the exhaustion of the day. a warm shower soothes your tired muscles and soon after that, you’re sinking deep into your sheets, the weight of sleep pulling you under almost instantly.

the next morning, your alarm blares loudly at 6:30am, dragging you out of your sleep with the subtlety of a jackhammer. you groan, rubbing your eyes before forcing yourself to get up. everything happens in a haze—brushing your teeth, getting dressed, and shoveling down a quick breakfast. you’re already running late for work, so there’s no time to waste. with barely a glance in the mirror, you braid your hair hastily, the strands uneven but good enough. then, grabbing your things, you rush out the door, your quick walk turning into a full-on sprint as you race to the coffee shop.

you finally arrive, completely out of breath. you ran harder than you’d meant to. stepping inside, you take a moment to scan the room. a few customers sit at their tables, chatting as they drink their morning coffee. but then your gaze lands on a familiar figure by the window, and your eyes widen.

it’s her.

the girl from yesterday.

she came back.

damn, you think, silently cursing yourself for not spending more time on your braid before. swallowing your nerves, you tie your apron behind your back, grab your notepad and start taking orders, your focus drifting towards her table with every step. when you finally reach her, she speaks before you even get the chance.

“iced americano. no sugar.” her voice is flat and emotionless, just like yesterday.

you let out a quiet chuckle as you scribble down her order. “you’re a woman of habit, huh?” you tease lightly.

silence.

for a split second, you panic, wondering if you’ve embarrassed yourself. but then, just as you glance up, you catch it—a barely perceptible twitch at the corner of her lips, a soft smile she quickly suppresses. it’s gone as fast as it appeared, but you saw it.

you prepare her coffee and bring it to her table. she doesn’t say a word, just takes the cup without acknowledgment. with nothing else to do, you turn back toward the bar, but you can’t help sneaking a glance over your shoulder. she sits there, motionless, staring out the window, pondering. you wonder what’s on her mind.

the bright morning sunlight streams in, casting a warm, golden glow across her face. it highlights her countless freckles, the gentle curve of her puffy lips, and for a moment, you just watch, absolutely captivated by the way the light seems to belong solely to her.

after she finishes her drink, she walks up to the bar. you look up, smiling politely.

“thank you. cash or card?” you ask, fully expecting the same icy silence as before.

but to your surprise, she speaks.

“you make a nice iced americano.”

her tone is so flat, so devoid of emotion, that for a second, you wonder if it was even a compliment.

“oh. uh, thanks.” you mumble, caught off guard.

she gives a small nod in response but remains still. she just stands there, her expression unreadable.

then, without warning, her gaze snaps up—sharp, intense—pinning you in place as if she’s seeing right through you.

you scramble for something to say, desperate to break the silence.

“do you… um… want anything else?” your voice comes out softer than you intended.

she seems to snap out of whatever thought had her so distracted. her gaze flickers to the the floor, and she gives a small shake of her head.

“no, thanks. i’d like to pay.”

“oh, yeah, of course.” you say, taking the money from her, your fingers brushing against hers for half a second before she pulls away. and just like that, she heads for the door.

you watch her go, frustration and longing mingling in your chest. a sigh slips out as you drop your head in defeat. you should’ve said something—anything. so stupid. no wonder she barely looked at you.

however, just as she reaches the door, she drops the lid of her coffee cup. she pauses to pick it up, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out.

“hey, wait! when… when will i see you again?” your cheeks burn instantly. too blunt. way too blunt.

she freezes, back still turned to you. the silence stretches on, long enough for regret to settle deep into your stomach. maybe she won’t answer at all. maybe she thinks you’re ridiculous.

but then—slowly—she turns. her expression is as illegible as ever, but there’s something different this time. a flicker of curiosity in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“i’ll come back tomorrow.” she says simply. as she speaks, the corner of her lips lift in the faintest smirk. “…if you insist.”

you chuckle softly, relieved by the subtle shift in demeanor.

“ah, good,” you say. “i’ll have your iced americano ready by the time you get here.”

she nods, then takes a hesitant step forwards, extending her hand. “my name is sae-byeok. kang sae-byeok.”

your hand meets hers, and you lift up your gaze to hers. “kang sae-byeok,” you whisper with a smile. “that’s a pretty name.”

her expression stays neutral, but as you compliment her, a warmth creeps into her cheeks. her eyes, typically distant, now shimmer with something gentler—maybe even slightly flustered.

“goodbye. i’ll see you tomorrow,” she says in a noticeably softer tone.

in a swift motion to hide her blush from you, she turns towards the door. just before stepping outside, she glances back and offers you a small, genuine smile. you wave as she departs, your heart fluttering wildly.

standing there after she’s gone, you can’t help but replay the moment over and over. could it be that you just—kind of—arranged a date with her? the thoughts fill you with a heady mix of disbelief and joy. suddenly, the long work day ahead of you doesn’t seem so daunting. the exhaustion melts away, replaced by the promise of tomorrow. knowing that sae-byeok will be waiting for you makes everything feel a little brighter, a little more magical.

[11queensupreme11]

Okay so I’m currently writing for my next chapter when it suddenly came to me! I totally forgot to ask and idk if you’ve answered this before.

But how would the yan kids react to watching their mom fall in love with Anthonius?

Like that has to be weird, right?! Watching ur mom fall in love with someone who isn’t ur dad or stepfathers?

Especially the girls since they’re kept away from boys and aren’t allowed to have boyfriends!

yaaaaay, can't wait for the new chapter! 🥰

as for ur question, i'll only answer eudorios and axiandros' reactions in more detail cuz i only have their personalities down so far 😅 everyone else will get a more general reaction, sorry 😢

eudorios is like a more unhinged version of his mommy so it won't kick in right away that his mommy's falling in love with another guy (he's just a lil dense guys, sorry, he inherited it from percy 🥺). ngl, he's probably gonna be the last kid to figure it out 😭😭

(just like how percy was the last person to realize anthonius liked her and that she actually liked him back 💀)

but when it finally clicks, he'll go:

eudorios: Oh! :)

and then he internally flips his shit 😭😭😭 he'll continue to watch it all happen with a ":)" on his face while crying, screaming, and shitting tears on the inside. the more he watches, the more he realizes that his TRUE enemy wasn't his father, or brothers, or half-siblings, or his mother's other husbands. no, it's ANTHONIUS. because he recognizes that soft look in her eyes, the genuinely happy grin on her face every time she's with anthonius. it's a look that's supposed to be reserved only for HIM, not some ugly mortal boy! and he's seething at the thought that ANTHONIUS was the first person to ever bring out that smile from her, and not him 💀💀💀

after watching, he'd probably rush to his room to scream into his pillow and everything like a dramatic teenage girl 😭😭😭😭 he'd sulk a bit and then rush out to go find his mother to demand more love from her 💀

for axiandros, he's gonna mentally pull up his shit list, place eudorios from #1 to #2, and put anthonius at the very top 💀💀💀💀💀💀 he's now genuinely concerned for his mother's taste in men because seriously???? did she just have a thing for losers???? first eudorios, and now a literal mortal boy???????

he cannot, for the life of him, understand WHY his mother would ever fall for anthonius. he acts like he knows better, he lets his emotions get in the way, he's rude and ill-mannered, he's a son of athena, he's pitifully WEAK, the list goes on and on.... 💀💀💀

then in comes the jealousy 💀💀💀💀💀 while eudorios is just like their mommy (but more crazy), axiandros is just like his daddy. his jealousy is icy-cold and seething, a sort of icy fury that everyone in the room can immediately sense. expect a lot of biting words and insults spoken in a ruthlessly cold tone, just like poseidon would. like father, like son after all!

as for the other sons, the incesty ones are, ofc, jealous af. but regardless of whether they're freaks or not, most are genuinely in disbelief that their mother had actually fallen in love with a mortal boy before, but there's also a lightbulb moment that goes in their head where they all think "ohhhhhh, so THAT'S why some of us have names related to wisdom!!!! 🤯"

they gotta admit tho, their mom had BALLS OF STEEL to name a child from each of her husbands after anthonius 😂😂

anyway, the more they watch her life, the more they finally start to understand why mother's so kind and loving towards humans. they knew that she was once a mortal (which is still hard for them to wrap their head around, cuz they always saw her as the perfect goddess and mortals are just so... not), but actually SEEING her live her life as one is a whole different thing entirely!

as for the daughters, many of them are wide-eyed and silently side-eying each other cuz ooooooh the DRAMA 😂😂😂😂 but aside from that, they're very curious. most of these girls are either super sheltered (percades and sécy kids), or they're just too used to godly culture (which is all the kids). would their mother marry this boy?? was he mother's first husband? why is she so close to someone that she's not married to? why does she let him touch her, get close to her, why are they ALWAYS together?? isn't that improper????

lmao, so while some of the sons are seething with jealousy, the daughters are getting a culture shock basically 😂

[stxrryskys]

STARRY MY LOVE I HAVE THE BEST FUCKING UDEA

Can you do headcanons of the MW crew of when they find that the reader has drawn the most down bad positions of them and the member of the crew? Then When they're asked about it they try to just write it off as anatomy practice?

YES YES YES!

C/W : Suggestive! Smut for goonsuke... Fweaky sex positions and yeah!

Daisuke:

your major was art, times were tough so you got an internship at pony express. when you boarded the tulpar you brought a sketch book so you didn't get bored. you became very close with daisuke almost instantly, he matched your energy so well he was literally you but a male, anyways, you were on the couch in the "living room" one day and you were drawing.. Drawing freaky stuff.. You liked to practice anatomy but you feel like you spaces out and drew two figures 69ing...while standing up.. And then you looked really closely at it and the male figure looked like daisuke and the women looked a bit like you.. Then as soon as you came to that Realization, daisuke walked in

"Hey dude! Whatcha up to? " you quickly sat on your sketch book and started a conversation with him

An eternity went by and you guys were laughing

"I gotta piss" you said abruptly, you sat up and skipped to the bathroom then he notices the sketchbook sitting on the couch and got curious and flipped though it

He flushed a bright shade a red when he saw the detailed position on one of the pages.. Then he looked closer and closer and saw that it kinds looked like.. HIM?! Shit.. What would he say to-

"DAISUKE! PUT THAT DOWN!! " you ran and hopped on top of him in an attempt to get him to put it down

"S-sorry I-i- got curious!! " he said as you hop on him

"That's - it was just- anatomy practice!! I swear!! "

"I-i- believe you !! "

Goonsuke:

"Is that me "____"?? If you wanted to do something like that with me then you could've just said so~"

So with your consent he waited till everyone went to sleep and did that EXACT position with you, just because he's young does NOT mean he lacks arm strength. He literally used to beat his shit everyday before the tulpar(and he's a baseball player 😻😻)

"Fuck you taste so fucking goo- ah-! "

Curly:

If you're being honest, you're terrified of curly, He is a really big guy and he looks like he could totally pound you into the concrete if he wanted to but your perspective on curly changed the second you accidentally walked in on him changing.

you drew as a hobby to pass the time and you thought you were pretty good at it, you definitely liked realism more than anything else and you kinda... zoned out? and when you looked back at your sketch book it was a RAUNCHY position,, specifically of you and curly, he was holding you, like up while slamming you onto his cock, you had to hide this before anyone could come snoop-

"_____? you in here?"

shit

"U-uh no!!"

But it was to late.. He was already in here

"Whatcha drawing kiddo? "

"NOTHING!? "

"Nothing?? C'mon lemme see" he snatched your sketch book and his eyes widened... Oh you're cooked

"C-captain! Put that down please!! " he just ignored your pleads and continued to examine the drawing

"... That me sugar? " he looked down at you with a lustful look in his eyes

"I-it was just anatomy practice!! "

He set down the sketch book and and grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up on your desk like it was nothing

"Curly?? "

"You wanna recreate that with me baby? "

Anya:

You were anyas intern, she was a super sweet lady, you and her got along well, you enjoyed her company, when she wasn't all shy and quiet she was super sweet and funny, at the moment you and her were sitting in the medical room chatting late at night and you brought up your drawing hobby and she wanted to dabble in it! So you got your sketch book and showed her some of your sketches, then... She flipped to one page....

"Ah! Uhm!! S-sorry "___" I didn't mean to flip to-"

yet she continued to stare at it, and she purposefully moved into a position to where you couldn't retrieve the sketchbook

"A-anya! give it back"

"Im looking! gimme a sec!'"

you hop on top of her, causing her to fall back on the medical table

the sketch in question? just you. and anya! ,,,,,scissoring and she was just enamored with the drawing, even when you kept trying to take it

Now, anya was feeling bold, she hooked her legs around your waist and brought you closer

"So? Is that how you really feel about me? "

Jimmy:

Jimmy hated you and you hated him. It had always been like that, he was a dick, the LAST thing you wanted was to be his friend, especially on the tulpar.

He would constantly make fun of your art. He thought of you as "mediocore" so you'd usually only draw when you were alone because Jimmy was EVERYWHERE!

You were at the tiny little desk in your quarters and you were drawing what came to mind, you didn't really know but you could wing it.

Finally!! You were finished!! Leeeets take a loo-.... What is that.. AH! WHAT THE FUCK!! YOU DREW YOU!! AND- AND JIMMY HE WAS ON- ON TOP OF YOU WHILE YOUR LEGS WERE OVER YOUR OWN SHOULDERS- damn. You were NOT that flexible. You didn't really realize this before but..jimmy was actually really- attractive?? Before you could comprehend... Jimmy walked in

"Hey! My laundry got mixed up with - dude what the fuck is that?? " he pointed to the sketch book

"Nothing!! "

"Nothing my ass! Is- is that me?! "

"NO! GET OUT!! "

"What the fuck??.. Is this who you really are? Just some slut? " well that was actually really hot and you didn't even know you were into that

"I-it was just anatomy practice! "

"Bullshit... You really are a slut" he moved closer and backs you up against the desk, hands on either side of you

"Yknow.. You've never looked as good as you do now.. I guess it's when you're being a little pervert.. Now..we're gonna do that"

A/N FINALLY!! I'M DONE!! I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get this out because oh my god. I've been so freaky sick, we have a bug going around😣😣 and I've had to get back into therapy so I haven't been doing all that great 😮‍💨 BUT I'M ALIVE! I'M SORRH!! ENJOY! N

[livfastdieyoung69]

OH OH YK WHAT I NEED BAD? KO SIBLING X CODY OOOOO I NEED IT I NEEDDDD IT

NEW BEGINNINGS

(Cody Rhodes x Non-described!Owens!Reader, can be read as adopted or not)

Anger issues and complaining runned in the Owen’s family. It was what your family did, most of you on the side, but your brother, he did it for his literal career. Like seriously, Kevin just complained for a living- he got on a microphone and yelled. As jealous as you were, it wasn’t your gimmick unfortunately. The two of you grew up side by side, falling in love with wrestling together, and eventually even growing in the business together. Though you had pretty similar styles, Kevin loved being in the WWE and everything he stood for there, and you loved being in TNA, and all of the accomplishments you’ve made in the company.

Though you were on separate paths, whenever they happened to cross, you’d sit down and have lunch, or dinner, or whatever else you could manage and do what Owens’ did best- complain together.

“How’s working with all of the Bloodline guys, still?” You ask after taking a gulp from your soda. Before you can even finish, he’s rolling his eyes and groaning with a mouthful of cheeseburger.

“Still fucking terrible. There’s more of them! Like an endless amount, they just keep popping up out of nowhere, and the more that come, the crazier they fucking get,” His exasperated sound makes you laugh. “I’m serious!”

You shake your head while he takes another massive bite out of his burger.

“Who’d you just work with? Uh, what’s his name? That woo woo woo guy? Zak Ryder!” You nod, taking a bite of your own food after muttering the ‘You Know It’ part of the catchphrase.

“He’s Matt Cardona now- that’s his actual name. He’s a nice guy…a lot, but nice. Like so much, really, all smiles and enthusiasm all the time. When Chelsea won the title, he brought a replica the next day and everyone thought it was the real one.”

This was how it usually went- catch up through each others feuds and how annoying everyone else was, and eventually the chatter would die down and you’d eat for a little, and then someone would pick up an actual conversation. The only problem here though, was there was one more feud of Kevins you were trying to avoid, but it was kind of hard. He was a massive deal in the company and a massive part of Kevins life right now.

“I know what you’re doing.” Kevin states causally, leaning back in his chair after starting on his fries.

“What?” You try to laugh it off, but you don’t look up from your own plate.

“Cody. You don’t wanna ask me about him.”

“….I just figured you’d want to keep your mind off it with the match at the Royal Rumble coming up.” You try, but he shakes his head. That was still in a couple weeks.

“Dude. I know you’re a fan- you literally still have the shirt from when he did the Dashing thing years ago. You liked Stardust, you know who else liked Stardust? No one.“

“Okay, I get it, you don’t have to publicly shame me about it. You can complain about everyone else, that’s my exception.” The two of you are quick to go back to silence while you try to finish your meal, and he chugs down another soda. The man ate ridiculously fast, nothing could stop him.

“You know,” He broke the quiet again. “You would really like WWE. Paul keeps bugging me about talking to you.”

“So you’ve told me,” You shrug. “I don’t know. TNA’s my home at this point, I can’t imagine leaving.” A laugh rips through you at a sudden thought and he nods his head for you to continue. “Maybe, maybe if you got Cody to ask-“ His eyes close with a sigh, and he immediately starts shaking his head, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Don’t push it.”

That had been about a week ago. You’d both gone back to your regularly scheduled program, him on Fridays and you on Thursdays. His feud with Cody continued, with a whole bunch of shit happening over there, and you moved on to work with other TNA superstars. After another long Thursday night you’re ready to conk out from the very fun, but tiring, on top of the night of wrestling, celebration with Joe Hendry for his new, recent title win (you’d already given your condolences to Nic).

As soon as your head hits the pillow, your phone rings. And you know it’s Kevin because you had set his theme song for his ringtone.

“What’s wrong?” You answer on the first ring. It’s late, and this is unusual, the first thing your mind goes to is that something happened.

“Did you see the news?”

“What fucking news Kevin, you’re freaking me out-“

“WWE and TNA signed a contract, anyone can go anywhere,” He rushes out, your name following it. “Anyone can go anywhere.”

You aren’t even sure what to say, and the phone line goes quiet while you stammer before Kevin interrupts.

“I gave Paul your number- he wants you in the Rumble.”

And now, here you were. This was fucking crazy! Of the entire TNA roster, you, Joe Hendry, and Jordynne Grace had been picked to join the Royal Rumble. Everything was so different here, you could see why Kevin liked it. Everything reminded you of him, and to be able to see him this much was so great. You traveled together, for the first time since your teenage years, and with all of the excitement you felt that young again too.

The Guerrilla was packed. It was great to see people you had worked with in the past, like Naomi and AJ Styles, but it was also great to meet new faces. Maxxine Dupri was the nicest person you had ever met, and so pretty. And you finally got to meet Chelsea! She wanted to keep in touch in case Matt tried to take her actual belt next time, apparently she hadn’t known he bought the replica.

Right now, the women’s rumble was seconds from kicking everything off so it was mostly women in the area, but a couple guys were wandering around too. Joe Hendry had stayed near you, which both of you were thankful for, he was actually a pretty shy guy behind cameras and you hated being alone around so many people. Jordynne and Naomi were a lot more acquainted than you were with her, so they snuck off to the side to have a chat.

The match was quick to begin with Iyo Sky and Liv Morgan before others started to quickly fill in. Your number was later on, you’d gotten 22. You didn’t want to be so late, and had tried to fight Paul about it but he was adamant the crowd would be excited, plus you had enough spots behind you to stay in for a while. The crowd started to wear out in Geurilla, and eventually you found yourself in the small room everything led to, with about ten other entrants, Maxxine had just went through the curtain at number 14.

“So,” Kevin strolls up from behind you with a bowl of something from catering. “I don’t want to hear a single word of this. But I called in a favor.” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to him, and he holds up a hand. “Not a word.” And then he walks out. What the fuck?

You don’t have time to think about that anyways, now you’re wishing Jordynne (number 19) good luck as the buzzer rushes. After her, is the great return of Alexa Bliss, who is granted the biggest pop so far, which Zelina Vega follows, and then all that’s left in front of you is the grey curtain covering the biggest opportunity you’ve received in your life.

That was both the longest and shortest minute and a half of your entire life, but when the crowd counts down, and the buzzer rings out, and your music starts playing, you’ve never heard anything louder. You fight to your last breath, and then you keep fighting. You make it pass Nia Jax’s mass elimination, and lots of other attempts, and somehow, its just you and Charlotte Flair. You give it your best, but the nerves get the best of you, and Charlotte ends up throwing you over the rope.

As disappointed as you are, you made it farther than you could’ve dreamed of, and as the fans yell for your attention while you walk back up the ramp, you can’t help but be proud. You walk through the curtain to find your fellow (past, and present) TNA stars cheering you on, and you’re too busy taking the praise with embarrassment and a shy gaze to the ground, that you don’t notice Kevins favor until you’re snapping a picture with HHH for media.

In all of his glory, standing directly across from you all the way across the room, is Cody Rhodes. Clapping. And staring at you, with that one smile. Y’know, the one, the Dashing Cody Rhodes shit eating grin.

“Oh my God, Kevin,” You mutter under your breath when the pictures are over and you can turn away. “What the fuck. Kevin. What the fuck.” Kevin is no where in sight, and Paul is laughing at you so hard.

“Heard you’re a pretty big fan,” You can hear him approaching from behind you and there’s nothing else you can do but face him and hope not to embarrass yourself any further.

“I’d say I’m an avid watcher, if that’s what you’d like to consider me, yes.” He’s still grinning at you like that, and it’s making this so much harder. The rest of the room is funneling out.

“Oh, okay, okay. Just a big Stardust fan, then?” Your lips purse into a fine line when you find you have no explanation.

“How much did he tell you, exactly?” God, you’re never coming back to this company ever again. Only to get back at Kevin for this. He shrugs.

“I’m just teasing, don’t worry,” His grin relaxed, and suddenly he looks more like the American Nightmare Cody, and his hand is resting on your shoulder. “I’m a pretty big fan, too. You were great out there.”

“Oh, I tried my best, thanks,” Your face is heating up again, and you try to push it off.

“Really, you were great. I hope I get to see you around some more.” You still can’t find any words, and the room seems to be getting hotter by the second. “Or, out of it either. Not to be this straight forward, and feel free to tell me to back off, but if you’re around tomorrow, I’d love to take you to dinner or something.”

“Uhm, uh-“ I’m between your sputtering you find yourself laughing. “You’re about to go fight to the death with my brother.” He laughs, looking down at his ring gear, and nods his head, because yes, he’s going to go beat the shit out of your brother.

“I’m guessing that’s a back off?” He looks back up through his eyelashes with the grin that makes you melt.

“No, no, please, bring him to hell and back.” You grin back, before nodding shyly. “Dinner would be great.” Before you have the chance to keep talking, Pauls calling him over, and he gives you an apologetic look and tells you somehow, he’ll get ahold of you before he rushes over to HHH. Kevin comes in shortly after, and laughs at you with no clue that his worst enemy thinks your fine as hell, and that you’re going to go chase Jey Uso down for his phone number. You sit in the Guerrilla for just a second longer and watch them both disappear behind the curtain before you run off to take a shower, and text everybody you’ve ever known that Cody Fucking Rhodes just asked you out.

Maybe you would be coming back to WWE a couple more times.

Wow look at me goooo it feels like its been so long since i wrote for Cody (prolly cuz it has been)

I’m hungry, sick, and tired but I’m ignoring all of my problems and sat down during raw and couldn’t stop so here you go ig

Enjoy this you probably wont get much more from me this month but im gonna try my best i think the seasonal depression hit me mostly last month but its supposed to snow on Wednesday so that’s when we’ll really see

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "the one where Kon's soulmark is fake". I remembered that, like, SEVERAL of my older WIPs are just a hot mess at the starts of their tags and also realized that I had posted like, very little coherently-connected parts of specifically this one's beginning, for some reason? Despite the fact that I love hurting and being hurt?? Somehow???? TERRIBLE oversight on my part, gang, sorry, here y'all go, enjoyyyyy~ 💙 (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon is sort of fucked-up in a lot of ways, but he didn't deliberately get the tattoo. Like–he's not that fucked-up. Hell, even Black Zero wasn't that fucked-up. 

Black Zero's Westfield didn't even give him the tattoo, actually, so maybe that's part of why they had a better relationship than Kon did with his version of the guy. Kon would also have hated the asshole a lot less if not for the tattoo, probably. 

But his Westfield had made damn sure to give it to him.

Kon doesn't remember much before he got broken out of the cloning tube, but he does remember getting the tattoo. It'd taken a really long time, and it'd been the first time he'd ever felt pain. So like, it'd made an impression. 

He hadn't even known what it was for, then. Hadn't even known what it was supposed to be. A brand? A method of identification? Some kind of weird serial number analogue? 

Not so much, it'd turned out. 

Superman's soulmark is a gorgeous Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, bold and bright and beautiful. It looks like the rising truth and the clarity of a new beginning and the very literal physical manifestation of hope. 

And Kon's tattoo looks exactly like it. 

Except for the part where it's obviously just a tattoo, of course. 

Tattoos don't pass for soulmarks, after all, which is the only reason Kon has the damn thing to begin with. Westfield hadn't wanted him to make the mistake of thinking that he was a real person, or to make the mistake of thinking that anyone was ever going to give a fuck about him as the person that he was. He was a clone, an experiment, a weapon, a thing. He didn't have a soul or a soulmate. Didn't have a mark. 

He got over that. Like, it sucks? It really sucks. And he still hates it. But he'd gotten over it. 

Or he'd thought he had, until he'd found out who Superman's soulmate was. 

"What?" Kon says, staring blankly. 

"Dad's my soulmate," Jon repeats, pointing at the Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, brightly illuminated by the noontime sun as they stand on the dock at the edge of a little pond on the outskirts of Smallville. "Why, who's yours? Or don't you know yet? Like, has it not come in?" 

"Clones don't get soulmarks," Kon says, wanting very, very badly to just throw up and die. 

"Huh?" Jon says, looking actually surprised. Kon continues to want to throw up and die. Or maybe bury himself in magma in the center of the planet and stay there 'til he suffocates. "But I thought everybody got soulmarks!" 

"Naw," Kon says instead of fuck you, because the kid's ten and doesn't deserve that. 

"Why not?" Jon asks, because again, he's ten. Ten and apparently as emotionally intelligent as a pudding cup, but whatever. Not like Kon's never had this conversation before. 

Never with Clark's kid who is apparently so much his kid as to be his literal fucking soulmate, which no one ever thought to mention to the stupid shitty clone in the past like four months since Clark had finally admitted to the secret identity that Kon had long since figured out thanks to Hypertime bullshit, but whatever. He only even officially met Jon a couple months ago. 

Probably they all figured it just wasn't his business, he guesses. 

Which–it's not, really. It's not his business. It never has been. 

It's not. 

"I mean, I'm sentient or whatever, but I'm manufactured," Kon tells the kid with a shrug. "Therefore no soul, therefore no soulmate, therefore no soulmark. That's all." 

"You don't have a soul?" Jon asks in bewilderment. 

"Naw," Kon says again, with another shrug. "So like, we gonna swim or what?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Jon says, still looking bewildered. 

So they swim. 

Kon, obviously, doesn't take his shirt off for it. 

Jon, mercifully, doesn't ask why. 

It's fun, aside from being the worst afternoon of Kon's life. They fuck around for a couple hours, then fly back to the farm after and mostly dry off on the way, and Clark comes out to meet–well, not them, obviously, but Jon. Jon lights up at the sight of him and throws himself straight into his arms like he's never once had to question whether or not Clark would ever want him there, and Clark smiles down at him like he's the most important person in the world. 

Kon should just count himself lucky that Clark trusts him enough to leave him alone with his kid for more than thirty seconds and be grateful. 

What Kon actually is, of course, is jealous and angry and fucking heartbroken. 

Jon is ten. Kon was manufactured two years ago. Clark had a real kid long before Kon was even a theoretical spark in a scientist's eye. 

And Jon had Clark the whole time Superboy was just desperately hoping that Superman would decide he was worth his attention. Worth the "S". Worth . . . 

When Clark had offered him a name from his family–specifically a name from an adopted member of his family–Kon had been . . . stupid, a little, and thought that it might've been, like . . . another step. Like he'd hoped that Superman even letting his weird stupid clone wear the "S" to begin with might've been.  

He hadn't been a complete idiot or anything. He'd known Clark would never, like–want to keep him around or have him too close or anything. He'd just thought that maybe he'd . . . that someday he might've . . . 

Kon isn't a real person. Like–obviously he's not. It isn't subtle. Hell, he'd have known it even if Westfield hadn't bothered tattooing him with a copy of Clark's mark. And really, he guesses he should be grateful Westfield didn't tattoo his own soulmark on him, whatever it was. 

Just, like, of course he's not Clark's . . . family, or whatever. Of course he's just like that one weird kid from down the street that somebody occasionally invites over out of pity who only learns the family secrets by accident or through osmosis and isn't actually kept in the loop or anything. Kon knows that. 

But watching Jon beam up at his dad and Clark smile down at his son is still making him want to curl up and die right here and now. 

Kon does kind of wonder what it's like to be, like . . . loved, or whatever. 

Everybody always makes it sound really nice. 

"Dinner's about ready," Clark says. "You two mind setting the table?" 

"Sorry, I gotta get going," Kon says instead of admitting he has no idea how to set a fucking table, especially not to whatever Martha Kent's standards are. Cadmus did not actually see fit to educate him on typical household chores and he has very rarely ever sat down at any semblance of a normal family dinner. Like, in Hawaii they all just ate wherever and not even all together half the time, and Cadmus has a cafeteria, and Young Justice just dumps a pile of junk food or takeout on the nearest unoccupied surface and they all just go to town on it like the weird gaggle of semi-superpowered and usually-ravenous teenagers that they are. 

He could look it up on his phone, and he probably will later, but there's no way he's gonna run the risk of getting caught looking it up on his phone. Like–no. Never, thanks. Miss him with that particular little bit of "further proof of being a fake person" humiliation. 

So it's . . . whatever, he guesses. 

"Well, that's alright, we'll just have to catch you another time," Clark says with a polite smile that looks nothing like the one he was just wearing for Jon, and doesn't even fake like he's disappointed or like he's gonna miss him. Because like . . . why would he, after all? 

Kon misses him all the time, but Kon's the pathetic counterfeit of a person with a copy of said person's soulmark tattooed on him. 

"Yeah, sure," Kon says, thinking longingly of suffocating in the center of the planet. 

Sometimes he thinks about what's gonna happen when he finally gets his dumb ass killed and whoever, like, autopsies or embalms him or whatever sees the tattoo. Thinks about what they're gonna think, if they . . . 

Superman's soulmark isn't a secret or anything. Clark's gotten smashed around too often for the suit to have kept it covered all this time. So like, if someone ever saw the tattoo on Kon's chest and didn't know that Cadmus put it there . . . 

Like . . . well. The natural assumption would be that Kon got it on purpose, obviously. That Kon was actually, like, that fucking pathetic and disturbed of a person. 

He never wants anyone to see it. Never wants anyone to know. Never . . . just never. None of it. Ever. 

And Clark will never smile at him like he smiles at Jon, so maybe Clark will just never know about the tattoo either. Maybe that's a thing that Kon can manage. 

He's managed it so far, at least. 

Kon goes back to Cadmus and buries himself in his eternally unmade bed in his cramped little disaster of a room and desperately tries to not be the absolute fucking freak that he is. 

He definitely fails at not being the absolute fucking freak that he is. 

He cries about it for a little bit, like that's something he even has the fucking right to do, and tries so fucking hard to forget how Jon's very real soulmark had looked when he'd stripped his shirt off and bared it so unselfconsciously. Not even deliberately or proudly–just as a simple, inalienable fact. A thing that he knew. A thing he just had. 

Although Kon wouldn't even care about the stupid goddamn mark, if Clark would ever look at him even a little bit like the way he looks at Jon. 

He tries not to think about the way Clark would actually look at him, if he ever found out that Cadmus had tattooed his fucking kid's mark on him. 

Kon's never let himself think too much about Clark's mark, on account of not wanting to torment himself that bad. He'd just vaguely assumed that it was Lois at some point and then just shoved said assumption in a box and drowned it in concrete and made sure to never, ever take his shirt off in front of anyone else or any possible cameras or spy equipment or anything similar. Ever. 

He should've known it wasn't Lois. It's a Kryptonian sunrise. Why would it be Lois? 

If it were Lois, though, Kon wouldn't care this much. If it were Lois, it'd be a romantic mark, and Lois is straight-up gorgeous and a total fucking badass, yeah, but Kon doesn't, like, want her or anything. There's nothing to be jealous of there. 

So of course it's not Lois. Of course it's not romantic. 

It's Jon, and on top of that it's a mark that only actual Kryptonians would ever share. 

It's Clark's real kid. The one he had long before Kon was even a single strand of stolen DNA or a cell in a cloning tube or even a scribbled theoretical on a whiteboard or in somebody's notes. 

The one he actually wants. 

Not for the first time, Kon wishes that prick Westfield weren't too dead to punch. 

And while he's wishing for completely impossible shit that’s never gonna happen, he wishes he could've been able to stay in Smallville for that stupid dinner without fucking embarrassing himself, too.

[hotchnersangel]

GOLDEN.

Aaron Hotchner

cw: self-doubt, bau!reader, insinuations of hair pulling, kinda love bombbbbbbbbbbbbb

————————

You and Aaron had been in a very stable relationship for the past few months, in reality, it scared you. You felt like he brought a light to your darkness, guiding you out of the depths of your disdain. You were completely and utterly happy, so naturally, you did what you do best and you self-sabotage the situation.

You feel hopeless and so broken in comparison to Aaron, the unconventional ray of sunshine in your life.

You had been avoiding him recently though and of course, he started to notice. At work you would look away from him, not meet his gaze, you’d sit in the furthest seat away from him and completely ignore non-related case talk. At first, Aaron thought it was a minor ideology you had fixated upon, that you would shake after a day or so but when you continued to act distant, he got scared. Scared of losing you.

He had insisted you stay back on the jet when you all return from a case, not giving you a choice as he blocks your path with his body. Goddamn that beautiful body of his.

“Okay, talk to me.” He says, looking down at you with his arms crossed.

“About what?” You ask nonchalantly and he sighs.

“You are avoiding me.” He states, raising an eyebrow. “What is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Honey, I know you like to joke about my intelligence but I’m far from stupid.” He smirks small as you cant hold your smile back.

“No-“ you sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think- we should break up.” You say with absolutely no intention of meaning it, the words physically hurting you to say.

Aaron just laughed, looking at you amused. “And why is that?”

“Because hearts get broken sometimes, okay?” You huff, panicking now.

“You’re breaking up with me because hearts get broken?” He asks curiously and you huff again.

“No- I mean, I just don’t like how you make me feel.” You frown. “I do but I don’t.”

He furrows his brows curiously. “And how do I make you feel, darling?”

“You just make me feel you, everywhere. Literally everywhere. All I can think about is you, all I can hold onto is you and the control you have over me and it’s terrifying.” You sigh, your hands pulling at your hair in a stressed manner.

“First of all, don’t pull you hair baby, leave that to me.” He smirks and lowers your hands, “and second of all, I believe there is a word for that.”

“No, you don't understand Aaron. I don't know why you hold such power over me and everything I've ever known and I'm just so scared to be alone. I don't wanna be alone.” you frown, finishing your ramble.

“Why on earth would you ever be alone when I'm with you baby?” he looks at you curiously.

“Because Aaron, you're so golden, you're so… you're the majority of my happiness and one day you will realise that I won't ever be able to be as open as you are with me.” you look up at him as his hands cup your cheeks, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes.

“Baby, I know that you're scared because I'm so open but that will come with time. You've had bad experiences with love in the past and now that something good is in your hands, you're trying to push it away.”

You frown, knowing he is right. “I'm just, I'm scared.”

“I am too because I also don't want to be alone, I want to be with you. Loving you is the antidote to my fear, my pain, my anything and everything. It's okay in the end because I love you and nothing will change that.” he repeats looking at you intensely and you smile.

“You love me?” you ask sheepishly, as if you hadn't just propose you broke up.

“Forever. I love you with every part of my being and I will spend every day for the rest of our lives making that a reality to you.”

“I'm sorry for trying to break up with you.” you laugh softly, smiling at him again. “And avoiding you.”

“You need to talk to me about these things, okay?” he asked and you nodded. Your smile is contagious. “And honey, you're golden. I'm like the moon because I only shine because of you.”

———————

[hawkeyetrained]

Hellhounds

Dean Winchester x fem!reader (established relationship)

Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer

Warnings: blood, wounds, major character death, canon violence/gore, reader!depression

Summary: Dean's demon deal is up and she wasn't there

AN: Ok, for some reason I really like writing the sad stuff to enjoy this heart wrenching fic.

Word Count: 2,505

She doesn’t know how it happened. Not really anyway. She has no idea how she managed to lose track of time so horribly. Months ago, she and Dean Winchester had practically torn a small town apart with Bobby Singer looking for Sam after the demon that killed Mary took Sam. She had watched the life drain from Sam Winchester’s eyes after he was literally stabbed in the back. She could still hear Dean’s pleading for his baby brother if she focused hard enough.

She wasn’t with Dean when he made the deal, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have allowed him to do it if he had told her about it. Though now, with all their resources and ideas drained, she’s dumbfounded on how she managed to lose track of the days leading to his inevitable death.

A hunting friend of hers had called that morning when she was preparing to leave the motel with Dean for breakfast, the phone call being short and full of pleading for some backup just a few towns over. Dean told her to go, to help the friend that seemed to really need an extra set of hands for an hour or so. She had thought about it for a few moments before giving in and heading for the highway. But what she thought was going to be only a few hours turned into most of the day.

By late afternoon she was getting strange unfinished texts from Sam and a few calls she was unable to answer at the time. When she was finally able to really look at her phone, her blood ran cold, and she was fairly certain her heart had stopped.

Hellhounds

That’s the word that made her flat-out sprint from the woods of the small hunt she was on and turn the original forty-five-minute drive back in only twenty. By the time she made it to the location Sam had sent her, she was far too late.

Rushed and unsteady footsteps landed her just outside a room, Sam’s hands grabbing her shoulders before she could enter. “You don’t wanna go in there.” He had whispered, hands and voice shaking. Her eyes flashed up to his, lips trembling and lashes already wet with tears.

“No.” The word was barely whispered as she looked at the doorway ahead of her. “No Sam…he’s…where’s Dean?” Her feet stepped to the side an inch before Sam had pulled her back again.

“You don’t-you don’t wanna see it.” His cheeks were splotchy and red, tear streaks making him shine in the ugly florescent lights.

Her heart pounded in her chest, ribs seeming to squeeze in on her. “Let me go. Dean!” She struggled against the hold Sam had on her. He hadn’t wanted to let her see, he wanted to keep the horror of seeing Dean’s body all torn up far away from her. He didn’t want her to remember the love of her life like that, like how he remembers Jess at times. But she was a hunter, just as good as he and his brother, so she managed to get away and face the half open doors.

The room was a complete mess when she stopped by the splintered wood that was once a beautiful door. Flooring ripped up and marred with claw marks, papers and fabric torn and littering the floor. And there in the center, Dean Winchester laid. His dark blue flannel and grey shirt torn though and soaked with dark blood. His once smooth skin was shredded away in places, leaking more of the crimson color onto the floors.

Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly approached his side. “Dean?” The word came out broken and desperate for an answer. She knelt down at his side, her gentle hands holding onto his left, smoothing over the few smaller cuts he had there from trying to protect himself, or get away. “Baby?” She was almost silent with how softly she spoke. “I need you to wake up.”

Sam stood in the doorway silently watching her as tears continued to fall down his cheeks. He was half leaned against the frame, looking very much like a little boy who just lost his big brother, but also holding just enough power to be the strength and protection that he knew she was going to need while completely focused on the body of his dead brother. He knew he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her while she say with Dean’s body.

“Dean.” She was begging at this point, salty tears falling from her eyes as she stared into the lifeless green ones that he had fallen so hard for. “Please, I…I can’t do this with-without you.” The sobs caused her words to break, her sentences slipping into snippets as she tried to breathe through the pain in her chest. Why did she have to leave earlier? Would Dean still be alive if she hadn’t gone to help? Was this all her fault? “Dean!” She was starting to panic. The questions swirled in her head as she shook him. “Please! I need you!”

Sam stepped in at that point. He fell to his knees beside her and pulled her into his chest. She let him hold her and the two of them let out the most heat wrenching sounds that would have brought anyone else to tears. She had kept her hands held tightly to Dean’s as she allowed Sam to wrap his arms around her shoulders as they cried.

Dean Winchester was gone.

_____

The following months all blurred together. After the two of them had managed to pull themselves together, if even just for a few moments, Bobby had come down and helped them with a hunters funeral for Dean. He wrapped Dean in a soft white sheet while Sam built the platform. She had barely managed to drag herself outside, needing the support from Bobby to even be able to stand and watch as the flames ate away at Dean in the center.

She had taken the time to slip the ring from his hand and the bracelet from his wrist before Sam lit the fire, both now adorning her wrist and sitting on a chain around her neck as she did her best to carry on for the day.

Heartbroken, she had gone back with Bobby to his house, but she was barely able to breathe without Dean in her life, let alone go on living hers. She spent her days up in the room Bobby was kind enough to give her, laid in bed with a shirt of Dean’s wrapped around her. Her eyes barely left the blank wall above her bed.

Bobby did his best to keep her eating and drinking, but he could only do so much for the heartbroken girl in his spare room. He was struggling too. Sam barely called to check in, rarely even asking about the girl his brother was so in love with. Bobby had felt like he had lost a son himself, but he coped by throwing himself into his work, trying to help as many other hunters as he could.

_____

Four months. That’s when the knock sounded on the front door.

She barely reacted to it, only managing to turn from the wall behind her bed to face the door of her room, and that was only in case Bobby called for help. Muffled conversations floated up the stairwell from the front door, most of it sounding like it was coming from Bobby, that he was demanding something of the visitor. Then it went quiet for a moment and that’s when the steps started coming up the stairs.

She gripped onto the knife that had barely left her side since she had gotten to Bobby’s place. The smooth worn wood grip slightly comforting at the thought of a threat making its way past the Singer man downstairs. Just as the door to her room was creaking open, Bobby himself poked his head in with a soft knock. “Think you can come downstairs for a moment?”

She relaxed the grip she had on her knife. “Why?” Her voice was scratchy from lack of use over the last few months.

“There’s someone here for you.” Bobby encouraged, his feet bringing him to the edge of her bed. “Come on.” He was demanding but trying to give her the time she needed to convince herself to get up. He understood what it felt like to lose the person she loved the most and that it was some of the worst pain imaginable, but he knew he had just the visitor she needed waiting downstairs in his living room. “For me?” He held his hand out to help her stand from the bed.

She stared at his hand for a moment. She really didn’t feel like seeing anyone, even if Bobby did think they would help her at all, though she highly doubted it. A deep sigh left her nose as she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her into a seated position. “Ok.” Her answer sounded defeated, like she knew that no matter who was down there to cheer her up, it wasn’t going to be the one person she actually wanted to see.

Bobby turned and clomped his way back down the stairs as she worked on getting herself up from the bed she had spent the majority of the last few months in. Her eyes caught her reflection as she neared the door. Wild hair from laying down, slightly puffy eyes from constantly crying herself to sleep, dark circles staining the skin around her eyes from the lack of sleep and nightmare combination. She was barely dressed in black leggings and a flannel of Dean’s buttoned up, so she took just a few seconds to run her fingers through her hair to tame it a little.

The voices slowly flooded up the stairs again as she approached the top step. One was Bobby, asking a few simple questions of the surprise visitor, but it was the other voice that nearly sent her falling down the stairs.

It couldn’t be. Her mind had to be playing a sick joke on her. She knew that other voice. It was one of her favorites to listen to. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in four months now. Four months because the owner of the voice was dead. She had seen him for herself. Skin shredded with claw marks, blood pooling on the hard wood floor, bright green eyes devoid of the light of life. Dean was talking to Bobby.

“Bobby?” She rushed down the stairs, hands searching for any weapon she could find as she hit the bottom step, opting to pick up a silver blade the size of her forearm as she approached the man who had housed her all this time. “Get away from him!” She shouted, shoving herself between Bobby and the imposter. “Back up!”

He looked so much like Dean. Same bright eyes she loved, same smooth skin and freckles covering his face. He even sounded like him when he spoke to her.

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” Dean held his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He understood where she was coming from. Years of hunting trained them not to trust anyone or anything that came into their lives, hell, Bobby had run all the tests on him just a few moments ago when he first showed up. “I promise you. It’s really me.”

The blade shook in her hands as her emotions betrayed her. “I don’t believe you! Dean died four months ago.” Her eyes filled with tears that leaked over onto her cheeks, red with fear and confusion. “What are you?”

“Ask Bobby. Sweetheart it’s me, I’m back.” Dean kept his hands out and allowed her the time to glance over him. His hand held a dish rag, soaking up a little blood from the silver knife. His shirt was stained with water drops, what she’s assuming was holy water Bobby had thrown at him. She was frantically looking for any signs that he would be a monster, any burning or marks on his skin, but she found nothing.

A hand rested on her shoulder as she shook. “It’s really him honey.” Bobby mumbled so she didn’t jump. “It’s really Dean.” His other hand came around to wrap around the handle of the blade she still held, gently taking it just as a loud sob wracked her body.

Dean swooped forward just then, gently bringing her to his chest and kneeling them to the ground. “I gotcha sweetheart.” He whispered words into her ear as she sobbed into his chest. Tears soaked into the fabric of his shirt, his hands never leaving her as he did his best to soothe her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She held on tightly to Dean, hands finding the hot skin of his back from being in the afternoon sun, nose pressed tightly to his neck as she tried to even out her breathing and focus on the man holding her. Dean was back, he was holding her and speaking to her.

“You-you were dead. I-I saw you all-all torn up.” She pulled back just enough to really look into his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever. “I was-wasn’t there.” She hiccupped.

“I’m here now.” His hand brushed the hair from her face gently. “You didn’t need to see it happen.”

“But I-“ Dean cut her off before she could spiral and blame herself even more.

“Stop.” He hushed her, resting his head against hers. “Just be here with me.”

She nodded, closing her eyes and focusing on the feel of his hands on her, his head against hers, the soft sway of his body as he did all he could to calm her. He was savoring the feeling of her being back in his arms, of smell of her fading shampoo from the last time she managed to crawl from her bed and take care of herself. Bobby had given him quick notes on how horribly she had been handling his absence, so he was doing all he could to convince her that he was actually there with her again.

When her breathing had finally steadied, she opened her eyes to find his bright green ones already staring back at her. “You’re here?” She asked.

“I’m here.” He nodded. With one hand gently holding her head, he pulled her into the most loving kiss he could, trying to relay all the pain he knew they had both felt over time apart. She still had tears falling from her eyes as she kissed Dean, this time the tears for the overwhelming happiness and relief she felt flooding her veins at the thought of finally having him back with her.

She’s sure that when the hellhound came to drag Dean’s soul to hell, it took a part of her’s alone with his.

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[bonewaryreblogs]

Ghosts 101

I wrote this as if Danny was giving a crash course powerpoint presentation to the Batclan or something, even if it has info he wouldn't actually have by this point in the story; I skipped the descriptions, reactions, questions, and "he said, she said" stuff because it was unimportant to my goal of putting all of the info I had about ghosts in a presentable format.

So yeah, have fun, I know I did :)

In almost any form they take, ghosts can be described as beings of emotion. Obviously, their fully living counterparts also have emotions but ghost emotions are generally more intense, always dialed up to 11, and drive the ghost to fulfill their obsession. A ghost obsession is the main reason that ghost sticks around on the living plane rather than moving on to the afterlife; for some, it’s because they had “unfinished business” like their murder was never solved or if they died in a particularly gruesome way; maybe they had an intense desire to protect their loved ones from whatever killed them or just generally wanted people to stay away from it; maybe they did move on but something disturbed their rest and they came back to rectify the situation so they could rest again. Each ghost is different and each situation is unique in its own way, even if there are common threads.

No matter what brought them here, ghosts feel intensely about their obsession and literally can’t not fulfill it; if they are prevented or have enough conscious thought to stop themselves, their already intense emotions go absolutely nuts and most will become violent until they can fulfill it again. The majority of ghosts will only have one obsession but it’s not impossible for them to have more or very nuanced obsessions.

A few examples:

My school had a lunch lady that worked there pretty much her whole life, like over 50 years, and that whole time the menu never changed, or at least not significantly. During my early days as Phantom, the school decided to add vegan/vegetarian options and this upset her so much that she came back to haunt the school; she just went by the name Lunch Lady, most likely because she’d been dead long enough to have forgotten her own name. Her obsession was to continue doing what she’d always done in life, serve kids lunch, and the change to the menu disrupted that.

Mine is a bit more broad and involves protecting people; if I see something wrong, something potentially harmful to others, it’s like an itch I can’t scratch if I don’t do something about it. It’s all I can think about and not helping drives me insane. Think of it like someone with really bad OCD that literally cannot help themselves; my sister is really into psychology and said the symptoms I described match. The most obvious scratch for that itch is stopping the bad guys in a dramatic fight to protect the innocent, but it’s hardly the only way; even working at, say, an animal shelter would do, though I would eventually grow restless knowing I could do more.

Which brings me to another point; fighting is not only common in ghost culture but it’s the best way to regulate our emotions since we don’t have a physical form anymore to keep those emotions in check. I’ve helped several ghost move on to the afterlife, and I have tried other methods, but the best I’ve found is confronting the ghost, figure out what’s keeping them here, fight them for a bit to release their built up tension so they can think a bit more clearly, then provide a solution to whatever their problem was.

Another example:

A couple decades ago, there was a kid at my school who was bullied horribly in life and the way they were able to pass on was to stand up to a bully and fight back like they always wanted to but never could. I played the part of the bully and one of my friends volunteered to play the victim for the ghost to stand up for, because no one did for them. Fulfilling that dream allowed them to rest, even if it was staged. Sorry, they were the first ghost I ever helped rest so the story is still kind of emotional for me.

Ahem, uh, let’s see, what’s next? We still have to cover haunts and types of ghosts. We’ll do haunts first, ghost types can get complicated.

A ghost’s haunt is the physical thing that ties them to the mortal realm; this could be an area that meant a lot to them when they were alive, like the school for the Lunch Lady and the bully victim, or maybe the house they lived in or the place they died; or it could be a specific person they had a strong emotional connection to, be it a loved one or several loved ones that they wish to protect or someone who hurt them that they want revenge on. Stronger ghosts have larger haunts and removing a ghost from their natural haunt is difficult at best, and even if they are able to claim a new haunt, they’ll still yearn for their original place. My haunt is pretty much all of Amity Park, whether I like it or not; I’ve been trying to accept Gotham, or at least Wayne Manor, but it’s been hard and I’ve been incredibly homesick since leaving. It’ll probably be easier once I’m allowed in the field and can fulfill my obsession to protect, but until then I’m just going to have to endure. Getting to know you guys and accept you as part of my haunt has helped, though, and talking to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz helps too, since they are very much part of my haunt. It helps me feel grounded, for lack of a better term.

Anyways, ghost types. I’ve been called a protector spirit but that’s not so much a type as a title, like everyone knows what you mean when you say “fish” but taxonomically it’s hard to actually define a fish without including or excluding things that logically should or shouldn’t belong in that category. There’s also a decent amount of overlap between types too, so it’s more like a sliding scale than anything concrete. Or the intersection of a couple sliding scales. Or something. Anyways.

What we would normally clump together as “ghosts” are usually the soul of a dead human that hasn’t passed on to the afterlife. They have varying levels of consciousness, memory of their past life, and control over their emotional impulses, from none at all to basically the same as a living person but dead. There are a few subcategories based on, for example, their level of malevolence, like poltergeist ranging between mischievous pranksters and downright evil sadists, and some subcategories can be split into further subcategories, like banshees are a poltergeist that are specifically feminine ghosts who wail and scream, but they all still fit within the broad category of “ghost”.

I could go into more detail, but then we’d be here all day and I don’t really wanna do that.

Amity Park had a higher concentration of people turning into ghosts than most towns, living up to its title of “most haunted town in the mid-west”, and many fall under the poltergeist category, but not all. Amity also has a lot of shades or shadow people, which is more of a psychic imprint of a traumatic event on ambient ectoplasm, but only if the victim doesn’t actually die; if they died, they would absorb the ambient ecto to become a more powerful ghost. Shades aren’t really alive, not in the sense of having a soul of their own, and generally just replay the traumatic event over and over until it runs out of energy. Will-o’-the-wisps, or just wisps, are also common, as a sort of pre-ghost entity; they don’t quite have enough soul power or emotional energy to become a full ghost but they try to stick around anyways, usually only a few days before they fizzle out and move on to the afterlife. They could potentially become a full ghost if given enough outside energy; from ambient ecto or magic to siphoning energy from the living to someone consciously giving them energy for the express purpose of making them into a full ghost.

As for me, I... call myself a ghost but that’s not entirely accurate since I do have a physical body. As far as I can tell, I fall under the category of “lich” which is closer to a zombie than a ghost. I don’t like thinking about what that means. The point is, I died in my parents lab, which was highly saturated with ecto, coupled with the ecto I’d been contaminated with my entire life, and ecto from the Ghost Zone as the portal opened up on top of me, with the bow on top of being traumatically electrocuted to death. I sucked up all that ecto at the exact moment I died, which brought me back to life and gave me a lot of power. I’m not super sure, and I don’t know if there’s any way to confirm this, but I think the power was too much for my body to contain, so it somehow stored the power in an alternate form. I still have access to some of my powers while in human form, but most of it I can only access in my ghost form.

Speaking of the Ghost Zone, it's inhabited by souls taken from Limbo and infused with extra ecto. They didn't have any reason to stay on Earth, which is why they were in Limbo in the first place, but after being supercharged they developed obsessions based on their emotions and what they remember of their past lives. Ghosts that are more powerful than average are called wights and are more on the same level as a lich if we equate an average ghost to, say, a revenant. A revenant is someone who was dead and brought back to life and still has a soul; if they didn't have a soul, they'd be categorized as a zombie, just a reanimated corpse. The difference between a revenant and a lich is the amount of power they have; revenants didn't have any connection to magic before but after being brought back they could potentially learn some, while a lich already had magic and it was usually increased by being brought back. They also didn't necessarily have to die first, so there's that.

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Specific Types of Undead

Lich: a powerful magic user who becomes undead through any means. They still have a soul and access to their magic which, depending on the process, may have been enhanced. One avenue is a living mortal being exposed to the Fountain of Life or substances related to it, like Lazarus Pits or the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone, though this may cause side effects.

Ra’s al Ghul - Ra’s has been around since at least the 1200s and already knew magic before entering the Lazarus Pit, which enhanced his powers. He will generally bath in a Lazarus Pit every few years/decades and has been doing so for centuries, getting close to a millennia. He has plenty of power himself but prefers manipulation, orchestrating elaborate plans from the background rather than getting his own hands dirty.

Vlad Masters - Vlad was exposed to Lazarus Water/ectoplasm once, for a short amount of time (a few seconds at most). Due to his preconceptions about ghosts and (mis)understanding of what happened to him, most of his abilities developed into what he expected of a ghost. After his initial exposure and recovery, he experimented with ectoplasm more and increased his exposure, though never again to actual Lazarus Water. His powers are comparatively weak but he has honed them to the point of still being a formidable opponent.

Danny Phantom - Danny had constant, but low level, exposure to ectoplasm for pretty much his entire life; he likely would have developed some kind of magic powers naturally, but the lab accident flooded his body with ectoplasm at the exact moment he was electrocuted to death, jumpstarting his powers. Due to his predisposition towards ghosts, most of Danny’s abilities are considered “ghostly”.

Pariah - As the first resident of the Ghost Zone, Pariah was exposed to the Waters of the Fountain of Life until it was corrupted into ectoplasm and has had constant exposure to ectoplasm for a long time, which flows differently in the Zone than on Earth or other pocket dimensions. He had no natural magic but had been touched with power from both Monitor and the Great Darkness, which influenced his power’s development.

Revenant: a non-magic user who becomes undead through any means. They still have a soul and have the potential to learn magic if it was used to restore them, even if they had absolutely no potential for it before. Exposure to the Fountain of Life or substances related to it, like Lazarus Pits or the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone, is one way to bring a dead person back to life, but they can only become a revenant if their soul is also restored, otherwise they’ll become a zombie or ghoul. There will be side effects depending on the method, but dying is a traumatic experience on its own. A draugr is a type of revenant with the body of a giant. A Scandinavian term for basically the same thing is genganger. A kukudh is basically an Albanian revenant. A langsuyar is specifically a female revenant of Indo-Australia.

Jason Todd - Jason had been dead for a few months before Talia al Ghul managed to secure his body and submerge him in a Lazarus Pit, however Jason was angry and stubborn so his soul was still hanging onto his body by a thread and that was just barely enough. He was more zombie-like at first, but thanks to Talia’s magic and some less than gentle coaxing, Jason regained his mind. His trauma from dying in the first place was compounded by how slowly his mind was restored and the training of the League of Assassins of both his body and mind, once it returned enough to be trained.

Ghoul: an undead being with no soul connected to the restored body, and therefore no mind to direct them, regardless of method. They are easily susceptible to mind control but otherwise run on instincts and emotions, though they may or may not have memories from their time being alive. They are generally very violent and will attack pretty much anything that moves. The Turkish name for such a creature is orek.

Zombie: a reanimated corpse, possessing little-to-no free will or memories of their former life. If left alone, they just kind of stand around, maybe shamble a little, until given some kind of directive. Tibetans called them ro-langs and ancient Greece called them vrykolakas, somewhat crossing over with the old concepts of vampires.

Vetala: a ghost possessing a reanimated corpse; the ghost and body are usually unrelated.

Ghost: the disembodied soul of a once living creature (usually human but not always) that cannot or will not cross over to the afterlife. There are many subcategories and sub-subcategories based on a number of factors, like level of consciousness and malevolence. Ghosts have many names in other cultures that are basically synonymous with the general idea of a ghost, including bhoot, hortdan, hupia, shiryo, and yurei. They generally don’t have a physical form of their own but can possess humans, animals, plants, or objects to interact with the physical world.

Poltergeist: a catch-all term for ghost that range from mischievous pranksters to pure evil sadists, sometimes called a Vengeful Ghost. Poltergeists with vampire-like abilities or attributes are called strigoi.

Wight: a powerful ghost, usually fully cognizant even if they don’t remember their past life. Most of the souls pulled into the Ghost Zone became this when exposed to ectoplasm.

Will-o’-the-Wisp: a sort of pre-ghost entity that wants to stay in the living realm but doesn’t quite have enough strength to stay for long, usually lasting only a few days after the person’s death. Often shortened to just wisps. They can “graduate” to full ghosts if given enough energy from an outside source (even if that source is ambient magic/ectoplasm). Other commons names are jack-o'-lantern, friar's lantern, or hinkypunk, and are generally called hitodama in the East.

Shadow Person/Shade: they appear to be roughly humanoid masses of black material or literal shadows without a body to cast it. They are not a soul, they are the psychic imprint of a traumatic event that didn’t cause an actual death. The shade would basically play out the scene over and over again until the residual energy ran out.  

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Undead entities common enough in folklore to have a particular name

Ayakashi: a ghost that appears above the surface of a body of water. Why they’re there and what they do varies from luring sailors to join them in death to helping them avoid the hazard that killed the ghost. It may or may not fall under the “poltergeist” label.

Funayurei: an ayakashi specifically of the ocean.

Banshee: a generally feminine poltergeist associated with screaming and wailing.

Chang: the trapped spirit of a person who was killed by a powerful magic being, like a demon or vampire, and must “serve” the being by luring someone else to be killed and take their place, at which point they are released to the afterlife.

Dybbuk: while sometimes confused for the rare possession by a sex demon, a dybbuk is a human ghost that possesses a living human in order to have sex, either possessing the desired person or possessing someone else to have sex with the desired person. La Sayona is a specifically female version of this, potentially overlapping with a Virgin Ghost and Mavka. Hone-onna is a dead wife that appears to her still living husband, who looks like a skeleton to anyone but her husband.

Goryo/Onryo: the ghost of a noble or otherwise accomplished person who lost a power struggle shortly before death, or were killed so someone else could take their position. They are often resentful and angry at whoever succeeded them and generally fall under the “poltergeist” label, focused on whoever has the position they lost. A specifically female version is sometimes called a Kuchisake-onna. A similar concept was used in Harry Potter, where no one could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for longer than a year after Voldemort was denied the position.

Virgin Ghost: a person who died before they could have a family of their own, generally young women but not always. They usually fall under the “poltergeist” label, targeting their still-living family members or those that fall into the same social category they were in when they died, which usually means young women.

Lemures: ghosts who are restless specifically because (they felt) they didn’t receive a proper burial, especially if specific funeral rites were important to their culture’s customs. They are sometimes called lietuvēns or lietonis, which are said to have been killed before their time and forced to wander until their allotted time would have been otherwise run out. They are sometimes called myling if they are just trying to convince someone to bury them properly, usually by leading someone to their body, which may be counterintuitive if their body is somewhere dangerous; they may act malevolently in order to gain attention but they generally don’t want to actually hurt anyone, they’ve just been stuck like this for a while and are frustrated because nothing else has worked.

Mononoke: a ghost that specifically causes their target to become weak or ill.

Drekavac: a catch-all term used in “South Slavic” areas that could refer to any number of undead-adjacent entities, including ghosts and zombies.

Some ghosts have specific forms that usually relate to how they died but are consistent enough to have been named in folklore. While their form is consistent, their temperament varies just as much as any other ghost. These include:

The self-explanatory Headless Horseman.

The Kuntilanak, Pontianak, or Yakshi of a pregnant woman who died in childbirth, sometimes called ubume.

Mavka or Nyavka appear as beautiful women to lure men to their deaths.

Noppera-bō are faceless humanoids that may or may not have others forms as well.

Pocong look like humans wrapped in funeral cloth; mummies are specifically ancient Egyptian variants. They are also different from zombies because they don't have a physical body like a zombie does.

Some ghosts possess animal as a host body for an extended period of time, like the Inugami that specifically uses a canine host body.

Yuki-onna are generally attractive female ghosts associated with snow and ice.

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Non-undead entities often mistaken for them

Vampire: a demonic being that feeds on the life force of mortals. They may have been human at some point but that is not always the case. A similar creature is the jiāngshī in china, a lugat in Albania, a wurdulac in Slavic folklore, and an upiór in ancient Eurasian areas.

Wendigo: a (technically still living) human either possessed or cursed with a demon-like body that grows in proportion to what they eat, leaving them perpetually starving. This may or may not have anything to do with cannibalism, like folklore suggests, but this was often a punishment for being selfish and greedy. Slightly more humanoid versions are the jikiniki, the bal-bal, and preta.

Batkaak: demons that hunt hunters, or other warrior-like humans.

Dullahan: a demonic fairy that fits the description of the Headless Horseman.

Succubus/Incubus: sometimes confused with a dybbuk if the sex demon possesses a human.

Ikiryo: another name for the spirit of a still living person sent to “haunt” a target person or area, often via astral projection and generally leaves the body in a coma until the spirit returns.

Moroi: vampires with ghost-like abilities rather than typical vampire abilities.

Pricolici: vampires with werewolf-like attributes and abilities rather than typical vampire abilities.

Shikigami: demon-adjacent entities used by “onmyōji” (basically someone who does eastern astrology for a living) or witches/other magic users to carry out blessings and curses; another name might be anichimayen. They may or may not be related to Familiars, which includes a wide variety of creatures.

Sluagh: a group of fairies that “kidnap” humans, often appearing like a classic ghost to scare people.

Chupacabra: a demon that drinks the blood of animals, usually livestock, but specifically named after draining goats of their blood. They may or may not be related to vampires.

Deildegast: a demon-adjacent entity associated with boundary stones.

Dhampir: the offspring of a human and a vampire, sometimes called a demi-vampire.

Gashadokuro: a demonic entity that takes the form of a giant skeleton.

Nachzehrer: a demon often confused for a revenant. They generally try to drag the living to the afterlife before their time, sometimes claiming to be a loved one of the victim who just wants to be close to them again.

Qutrub: a demon that prefers to feed on human corpses.

Rusalka: mermaid-like entities from Slavic folklore.

[tuliptiger]

Bro I hate Silco so much. Bro. And don't get it twisted right. He's a good character, he's well written or in THE VERY LEAST incredibly interesting and compelling. To me I guess. I still can't stand him, I hate him and I think he embodies every human flaw a person can have. And every bad decision we make at our lowest points.

And for that I can't stand him in the purest way and I think that's kind of awesome. Get him out of my face though lol fuck that guy. Great presentation of what I feel a lot of people in the world are like or have the potential to be like rn.

For what he was meant to be, having just found out the original plan for him which I really shouldn't consider. Or maybe I should in favor of him, as a little grace for him. I guess Jinx and him were supposed to be like romantic. If that's your thing go for it I guess but I'm not going to talk nicely about it and it disgusts me as a heads up. Fair warning.

I'm forever grateful they didn't pull a Joker/Harley Quinn but because jesus christ I think I actually would've hated Arcane for that. For all you people complaining about Arcane, sure that's your right and it's all personal tastes anyway but it could've been actually, sincerely awful. It would've ruined Jinx as a character and undercut all of her nuance, her autonomy as a real, deeply thought out character. Her struggles, her mental health, her trauma, it would've fucking sucked.

I hate Silco for even the possibility of that and unfortunately i think it explains a little bit about some things. But anyway, back to hating Silco.

1.) He betrayed every single thing he's ever cared about in his life. He betrayed Felicia by trying to and knowingly kill her children. He betrayed the promise he made to not JUST Vander but to Felicia and himself.

Because what? Vander betrayed him first? Because he tried to kill him? Because he probably does feel genuine regret about maybe enacting the event that got Felicia killed? We never get the story but I think it's implied. Either that or Vander really was just deep in grief and rage and put that on Silco. I think they both fucked up for the record but Vander didn't CONTINUE that for the rest of his life.

What did any of that have to do with Vi and Powder/Jinx though? He's the reason everything bad happened, maybe you could blame Viktor since he went back to give Jayce the rune but every bad moment after that is almost exclusively Silco.

2.) He bribed Marcus contributing to the corruption in Piltover and Zaun. He fed drugs to Zaun for the point of nothing in my opinion. Because he couldn't come to terms with his grief, he couldn't make Piltover pay the way he wanted them too? He justified his own terrible actions for some idea of an independent Zaun for what? For who? Piltover may have taken from him but he actively chose to burn whatever he had left by trying to kill Powder and Vi.

3.) He's the reason Vi and her crew lost their loot, and their lives NOT Powder. He's the reason or at least the means for Singed to create more fucked up abominations and shimmer.

4.) He IS A HUGE SOFTIE he's soft as fuck. He loves and he loves deeply but he could never get over himself to do better. And this is possibly the main reason I hate him, he sincerely loved Vander and Jinx and Felicia and Zaun. People get hurt all the time, and it isn't the same as the trauma he faced but I DON'T think a reasonable series of decisions is to betray everything you are and have worked for to fuck over literally everyone around you. He is the scorched earth method, he wanted to hurt everyone and everything for what he felt and experienced. He's so incredibly selfish I cannot stand him.

5. A close contender, maybe even tied because I love Jinx so much. I hate that he is directly related to all of the hurt Vi and Jinx have experienced. I hate, I loath, I detest what he did to Powder and to Jinx. I feel so fed with season 2 episode 7, we DIRECTLY see what happens when Silco doesn't decide every day to hurt the world around him and hurt everyone in it. What happens to Powder without his fucked up influence.

I never thought anyone made Jinx specifically, like there isn't someone to blame because it felt diminishing to Jinx herself. But I'm rethinking it, I would say with certainty Jinx wouldn't have existed without Silco. I don't give him full credit, not in the creation of her and not her herself but the REASON she was reborn into a different person. Powder and Jinx created Jinx, but she created her because she had to, because Silco brought her into a fucked up world where she had to be different to survive.

Silco didn't support her, he enabled her, made her fear the world, fed her insecurities and projected himself into her. And because he does love, he really really did love her I think, that was what she felt she needed as a TWELVE year old girl. She needed a guardian who had her best interest at heart and not just love. Whatever support she had before, he ripped it from her and shredded it, and from that pile of rubble and ash Jinx had to find herself and emerge. But she picked herself up and chiseled herself into who she is in the series not Silco.

She's smart as a whip, she's so incredibly clever. She knew to some extent the reality of what was happening. But reality didn't have any real gravity anymore for her without something to hold her to it. Silco, at any time, could have stopped what he was doing. He could've seen her hurting and said, this isn't it. This isn't worth it. But he didn't, and she didn't need a reason to change because she had someone who fed her love when she had no one. When she thought it was all her fault and where Silco tried to convince her Vander and Vi weren't good people and that they didn't love her, won't love her.

I could go on, I fucking hate Silco. Once again, I think he's the weakest character emotionally and mentally but certainly not writing wise. He's spineless, he can kill sure, but in the main universe he couldn't get over his own feelings of guilt and hurt to do better. Nobody is satisfied with the slow progression of equity, of freedoms and peace. Silco wanted to take it all violently, take it all and take everything around it down with him.

In another universe, he's better. He makes better decisions because a different set of events led to reconciliation between Vander and him. Because Piltover made the first move of peace after Vi had to be sacrificed. Because Marcus saw a dead Zaun child in the arms of her younger sister. Because a lot of things, Silco is a better man and I think he's stronger for it.

The main universe Silco was wrong about everything he did, he made every possible bad decision on purpose over and over and over again.

The fact that I just wrote what feels like an essay on this bastard should at least show how I hate him, in the way I don't like hate hate him. I hate him in the way good art makes you hate it in just the right way. I think he's interesting enough to think about. I don't hate the alt universe Silco, I just hate the main one. He's multifaceted, he's a villain, he just kind of sucks, he moved the story in permanent ways. He forever changed the world by facilitating the events that led to Jinx as a person in Runeterra.

Anyway Yeah I really really hate Silco. Thanks for reading lol If you have some good points or different interpretations of events with Silco I would genuinely love to read them especially if they are different. I'm the first to admit I don't fully understand all the subtleties in Arcane and I love it for that, but I miss things. Changing my view on what actually happened in scenes is one of my favorite things to do right now. I crave the richer and fuller offering of a closely inspected Arcane provides tbh.

[dollfacedenglishrose21]

i’m back!!! 🖤

okay! so to continue the whole sugar daddy/sugar baby concept, gosh would you be able to write something about how it would be like shopping with him, how he would act with his friends when we (aka the reader) is around, all that fun stuff, you can go as far as you want with it! (like i said before, the filthier the better 😉)

this can be a whole series lol, i know i would love it <3

sending you my love, appreciate it as per usual gorgeous 🥰

Welcome back my lovely!!! 💕

Ohhh i like it darling what a great idea 😏 I'm definitely thinking about making sugar daddy Nikki Sixx into a series i mean just look at the man 😩🫠🤤 I AM WEAK

Thank you for being such a sweetheart your support means so much! 🫶

This picture makes me wet I'm not even kidding!

Shopping Trip 🛍️

"Holy fucking shit Sixx! Where did you find her? I think she might actually be the hottest chick I've ever seen you lucky fucker!" said the lead singer before taking a sip from his glass of Jack Daniels whiskey. "she's mine Vince, and i don't share what's mine. Your right about the hot part though, my dick is permanently hard!" the bassist smirked to himself as he watched you with his intense eyes from across the room. "here comes T Bone, i swear to god if he tries anything I'll fucking kill the bastard!"

"She really has got you pussy whipped huh! Is she tight? I can't imagine what it must be like to tap that on a regular basis......." The drummer tilted his head to the side. "oh it's amazing Tommy, I'm fucking addicted to that cunt of hers man I literally can't get enough!" Nikki ran a hand through his thick black hair and walked over to where you were sat. "hey there sugar, daddy was just talking with the guys about you. They all think your so pretty, but you belong to daddy don't you? Yeah you do."

You looked up and greeted your sugar daddy with a bright smile and a flutter of your long lashes. "how about you let me take you shopping? You know how much I love to spoil my sweet girl!" the rockstar brushed a strand of soft hair from your delicate face. "really? Thanks daddy, you know how much I love shopping!" you practically lit up with excitement. "let's go, I'll just say bye to Vince and Tommy!"

An hour later you were in your local mall browsing all of the pretty clothes each store had to offer. "I don't know what to choose daddy, I like so many of them......" Your brows furrowed as you thought deeply about the decision you had to make. "you don't have to choose baby girl, have them all. I like giving you everything you want! Why don't ww go to the dressing room and you can try some of them on for me?" you quickly agreed and walked off together hand in hand until you could change in private.

"so, what do you think of this one daddy? I think it's so pretty!" you jumped up and down excitedly, gazing at your reflection in the mirror on the wall. "absolutely gorgeous love bug, but you can make anything look beautiful!" Nikki flashed a naughty smile and gave you a little wink, his dark eyes filled with desire and lust. "show me the next one baby, don't keep me waiting all day!"

The next thing you tried on was most definitely Nikki's favourite of them all, black lace lingerie! "fuck baby, are you trying to get daddy in the mood? Shit, you look so fucking sexy! The perfect little pet for me.........turn around, show me your stuff sugar!" he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from moaning out loud at the sight of you. "damn, that ass, those tits. I'm the luckiest man in the world!"

You blushed deeply, suddenly feeling rather shy in front of the much older man. "do you really think so? I don't look slutty or anything like that?" you began to doubt yourself but Nikki quickly put an end to your nervous thoughts. "you look fucking perfect baby! God, look at what you do to me!" the bassist reached down to unbuckle his belt, quickly unzipping his pants to pull out his stiff shaft. "look at how hard you made me naughty girl!" Nikki began to jerk his cock slowly. "pull your panties to the side and show daddy that pretty little pussy!"

You didn't hesitate to give the man what he wanted, it wasn't long before you were bouncing up and down on his cock like some kind of desperate bitch in heat. "OH MY GOD DADDY, IT'S SO FUCKING BIG!" you squealed so loud that Nikki had to cover your mouth with his big hand just to stop the other customers from hearing you moan. "shhhh baby, you don't want us to get caught do you? Or are you a depraved slut who likes the thought of being caught? You don't want everyone to see what a greedy little pussy you have? I mean you are fucking swallowing my cock, my dirty little doll i get to fuck whenever I feel like it!"

The rockstar felt your tight walls clamping down on his throbbing cock and he knew how close you were to finishing. "are you coming already baby? You didn't ask for daddy's permission to cum!" a harsh slap landed on your ass causing you to jerk forward into Nikki's muscular chest. "keep riding me honey, and maybe then I'll be kind enough to let you cum for me......"

Whoops what have i done this time? I hope you enjoy this part 2 my darling! 💋

[compacflt]

YOU'RE ALIVE??? - my reaction upon seeing your most recent reblog

Anyway, your fic and blog single-handedly kickstarted my U.S. military history obsession <3

im alive!!!! yeah I've been away for a while. it, ah... has not been a grrrreat time to be a military historian or a Big Fan of military propaganda pieces like Top Gun for the last year or so...

lmfao I just saw that the second trump admin plans to haul up all the commanders in charge of the Afghanistan withdrawal (which HE negotiated btw) in front of congress with the plan to charge them all with TREASON per the UCMJ (good fucking luck dude)

but um in my timeline... that includes navy secretary 2021-2022 tom iceman kazansky, bro... so in case you're wondering what these characters are up to in the present day apparently the answer is "getting investigated for treason." sorry to bring down the mood. my happy ending's a little sour now.

mostly I've been insanely busy. I graduate university in may & have to have a journalism capstone, an English research thesis (my paper on military commanding officers in fiction inspired by my top gun fics tbh) and a creative writing capstone (novel) done by march. plus job applications, work for the place where im currently freelancing, apartment hunting... so im a wee bit crunched lately.

some minor updates for anyone who still cares: I am, extremely slowly, still editing WWGATTAI & the other stories. I've finished a complete overhaul of the Carole-dies chapter, chapter 7, but have yet to post it because I'd like to sync a logistical change in the story across the other pieces. and I'm mostly done with a COMPLETE overhaul of chapter 6 (aka "the nineties" chapter where ice & mav move in together & build their family) which goes into much more detail about how... emotionally and logistically... they could pull that off. + a lot more baseball stuff + the Clinton sex scandal. which leaves just chapter 10 left to do. ugh, my least favorite, which is why im putting it off... and then debriefing etc. which won't take as long because I don't honestly care about debriefing at all and I just have very minor changes to make to it. slider doesn't need editing and idgaf about the other pieces.

once I finish with the edits, which will happen eventually I swear because more than anything I just want to hold the updated edited final thing in my hands the way I did with the first draft, I'll upload my pdf (with meta analysis and notes that go back to mid-2022) for u guys to do with as you wish

also for the m:i doubleheaders I am planning on editing my m:i fic pre-m:i8 next year and pending ilsa life status will write much much more

[bertrei]

The bertholdt hoover fandom is dying rt if youd wipe the sweat from his brow like if youd give him a warm glass of milk

[themyscirah]

Vanessa didn't even die and yet her story is still sadder and more fucked up than jtodd's. He wishes he was on her level

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[seithr]

powerful sorcerer with magical storm blood who can still magic and rend minds and transform people btw