#at least i have a cool keyboard now though

[reno-writes]

Icy-Hot

[Image from Love & Deepspace]

Rating: +18

Word count: 2,984

Type: Smut

Characters: Zayne x Reader [Female Reader], Caleb 

Trigger warnings/content: Jealousy, a little bit possessive, childhood friends to lovers, genitalia.

❅*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙    ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

The thrill of chasing her into the fields was something Zayne never really did as a child. Always observing from afar your joyous smile through the golden fields as your smile shines. That daisy flower print sundress that grandma made with that teal sun hat. Keeping the sun out of your young glimmering eyes.

“Zayne!” Your voice was so clear, so chipper. The sun always gives you this warm glow dancing on your skin. All he could do was sit, stare and admire. Until he saw another boy come out to call out your name. His smile made him angry. Maybe that was the first time he felt jealousy. Your cute sundress dancing as you chased the other boy named-

 “Zayne?” His fingers kept clicking away on his keyboard. Resting his scarred hands on his keyboard to glance at you through his frames.

“What is it? If I answer your question, will you let me get back to my work?” Though you have been friends since childhood; you still had that prying question that prodded his work time. Yet, everytime, he fell for your siren voice. Capturing his attention, pausing his work.

“Listen- I sprained my wrist and ankle,” you sat at his therapy chair, dangling the wrist from the grasp of the other hand. Legs crossed over at the knee, ankle clearly swollen. All he could do was sigh. You were like this all the time. No matter how many times you do this hunter job, you always get reckless. And no matter how many times you come to him with an injury, he was always expecting you to come in. Saying his name. Of course, no one else had the privilege of calling him by just his name. It was always Dr.Zayne for everyone else. He got up, a little annoyed but a little pleased that you relied on him this way. Grabbing a bottle of some icy-hot (a cream that cools on the skin, then feels hot to help ease the pain), he knelt down on a knee to apply it on that ankle.

“And I need you to listen when I tell you to be more careful,” carefully pulling the shoe off and the sock off in one pull. He could see your ankle definitely was sprained at least, if not broken. “What did you even do? Trip?” Bingo. Face turning into that cotton candy pink, he could read you like a picture book that he used to see you read as a kid. “Always clumsy. Always.”

“Hey! I couldn’t- ouch!” He intentionally applied a little pressure when he rubbed the cream into the skin. A little massage would help circulate the blood a bit. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the wad of bandages, all perfectly wrapped up. Snuggly, he bound it around the base of your foot, to the top of your ankle. “Watch it!” 

“You wouldn’t be injured if you had just listened to me like I always tell you,” as he cuts the end and clips it. Standing up onto his feet as he takes a hold of your injured wrist and starts the same process. His ice gray eyes only stared at your wrist when he subconsciously started to tighten his grip. Were your wrists this small? “Have you been eating?” Maybe it was his imagination that felt like he went through this before.

“Of course I have been since-”

“Well, hello, Zayne. Or shall I say, doctor?”

Zayne looked up and recognized the face that he knew all too well. The boy that chased you in the fields. The one that always danced with you. The one that always told you that you looked pretty. The one that took you away from his novels to play spot the i-spy books. Taking the words that Zayne said already but exclaiming it.

“Hello…Caleb. Colonel now I assume,” he could feel icicles forming in his blood. “I had heard you were back,” nearly snapped at him but he wanted to stay professional in case anyone came in and saw how he was acting. Caleb chuckled. Zayne clenched his fist. There was no way this man came back just now when things were just finally becoming great in his life. You, him and his job. 

“Well-” Caleb stated slyly, as he grabbed your uninjured wrist. Clearly trying to assert dominance despite being in Zayne’s office. “You know, she and I were just out, you know.”

“So you were the one that let her get injured. That makes more sense now.” Of course Zayne was not going to back down from Caleb. Not when he came into his office, with you injured on his couch. Caleb scoffed and clicked his tongue.

“Now that she is all bandaged up from the doctor. I am going to bring her home with me and make sure she is well taken care of. Thank you. Doctor.” Zayne raised his eyebrows. There was something off about Caleb. Granted, when Zayne and Caleb were young, there was a rivalry. Now, there was this weird aura.

“I am about to be done with my shift anyway. I can bring her home-” Zayne insisted, sensing some sort of eeriness from Caleb. As he stood in front of his desk to close his laptop, he felt a pull from Earth. Landing his ass onto his office chair.

This man had Evol. That means he-

Caleb shook his head and lifted you off the couch with ease. Casually smiling at you, then at Zayne. “Thank you for the offer. But you must have other patients. It’s unprofessional to only pay attention to someone you personally know.” As he used his dirty boots to kick open the door, there was a little tinge of flaring purple in Caleb’s eyes. “I appreciate you taking care of her. As she did fall pretty hard earlier.” He did this. Caleb definitely was the reason why you were hurt. After Caleb left, he felt all the gravity lift off of him. Nearly falling out of his chair, he had to take a moment to compose himself. He stood up, packed his laptop. Unhooking his trench coat and scarf to venture out in the cold. His smartphone buzzed to only see your name blinking on his screen.

“Zayne speaking,” he knew it was you. It was this game he liked to play to see what your reaction was going to be. There was a sigh on the other end. “I am sorry, Zayne. Caleb was being a bit of a brat. I demanded he take me home. I am almost there.” Zayne could tell you were fiddling with your fingers while being in the car with your childhood best friend. Caleb probably could hear the whole conversation, but clearly you did not care. “I can make some honey chamomile tea to make it up for you?” Your voice was as fresh and pure as the snow. Unlike that prick Caleb that-

“Hm, I was thinking about picking up some macarons. Did you want some?” Zayne was already about to walk into the dessert store to order a pack of twelve, before he heard a chuckle from you. “What?”

“You are already in the sweets store right?” You knew him too well. “I heard the bell that chimes whenever you go to that store”. You were his girl. Caleb could not catch up to Zayne’s status with the time that was lost.

“I’ll see you at your place then.”

 It was just like old times. Just you and him. The blanket on your lap as you sipped some hot tea, gently coasting it with the injured wrist. The snow was falling outside your window. It was times like these that he cherished. 

“Do you have work tomorrow?” Always asking that. Nonetheless, he savored every word and action, recording it into his brain.

“Of course I do,” your face clearly showed disappointment and you shook your head. 

“You never have time anymore. We used to hang out all the time-.”

“We used to. I am a doctor now. People need me.” “Well, I need you too, Zayne. As a friend.”

His finger clutched onto his cup of hot tea a little too hard. Those words cut deep. “You can always make an appointment-”

“That’s why I have been talking to Caleb about-” There you went, pouring salt into the wound and rubbing it in. As the cup he held shattered in his fingers. “Zayne! Are you hurt?” He could see you get up and grab a towel, wrapping it around his fingers. “Oh thank goodness the tea didn’t get on you.” Your voice was soft. Careful. Alluring. “You could have gotten hurt, doctor.” Seductive.

“Doctor? You have never called me that before.” Pulling his hand away from you, he looked at the cuts on his fingers and assessed it. If he got hurt, would you pay attention to him more than Caleb? No no. He can’t stoop as low as that colonel. He could never use Caleb’s dirty tricks to keep you around himself. Caleb would of course. That would be absurd. “I am fine.” There was a look on your face. One of concern. “What is it now? Are you okay? Does your wrist hurt?”

“This is what I mean, Zayne.” He was puzzled. He was just doing his job to make sure you were physically, mentally and emotionally okay. It was always his job. As a friend sure, but as your physician too.

“And what do you mean by that then?”

“You are always working. Why can’t it be how it used to be? Just not thinking about work all the damn time!” It hurts to see you hurt. It hurts to see you on the verge of tears. It hurts to see you apologize on the behalf of Caleb, that old friend of yours…and begrudgingly his as well. Maybe he was working too much. Every time you came in, injured or not, work felt like home again. “Sorry, forget what I just said. I am just stressed about Caleb.” There it was. His time to strike.

“Oh? What do you mean? I thought he was your friend?” Zayne says with clear curiosity as he gets up to fix another glass of tea. You sigh and plop down on the couch. “Not as a therapist. Not as a doctor. As a friend, and as someone that knows Caleb and how he is-”

“That is the thing. Something is off about him.” Pouring the hot water into his new cup, he came back around and sat next to you. “You saw it too, right?” He nods in agreement. Not just because he wanted to slightly win you over, but also he definitely noticed that stare. “I am not crazy! Thank god! I didn’t think Caleb was so possessive over me.” 

“But I get a little possessive too. Understandable when you keep getting hurt.” You shook your head, trying to convince Zayne that there was more to it.

“I swear when you do it, it's out of love and care. And it never bothers me when you do it.” He felt his heart race. The warmth of his blood flowing into his arms. “When he does it…I don’t know. Am I crazy Zayne?” He must have been so out of it, when he blinked and saw himself reflecting back in your eyes. His arm goes up and around your shoulder, bringing you close. Grasping your bandaged hand. Gently caressing the white fabric with his finger tips. Smiling. 

“So you don’t mind when I get a little possessive with you? That is a bit surprising.” Checking another thing that you mentioned into his mental notebook about you. He felt your temperature rising against his arm. He would know this with how much he has examined your body. He knew every little thing your body did. What it did. How it reacts. He turns and guides your injured hand to his face. What made him nuzzle into your palm was beyond him. Maybe it was those jealous feelings he felt before that made him like this.

“I mean…” your voice fell into a whisper. “I definitely don’t hate it.” He kissed your palm. Slowly letting go as your palm stayed in place. That hand never left contact as it slid across your shoulder, your neck line, then your other shoulder. Grasping it gently. It was like the time you smiled in that sunlight, but something else was there now. It wasn’t jealousy or admiration. It was beauty. It was love. Something he only heard of in novels. Of course he knew it existed. He just never cared to explore it.

“Then let me ask you a question,” leaning against you. He could feel you shaking in his grasp. “Do you hate it when I am this close?”

“I don’t hate it ever.” “Ever?” He faces closer. “What if I say you are the reason I have a fever right now?” You swallow, as your eyes look over his shoulder. He knew you were lying. And you knew you were lying too. “Then cure me.” Hovering his lips over your quivering ones. As he gently captures your lips with his. His arm slides back to where it once was, as he leaned over you. Your injured wrist on his chest. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears. The taste of tea lingered on his tongue. Sticky honey exchanged before he pulled away, caressing your cheek. “I think I need more. It’s not enough.” Panting as he dived in for another kiss, pinning her arm down. “Let me do everything. We can’t have your wrist injured any further.” His fingers rub small circles into your arm. “Hold onto me darling.” Releasing your arm, just to sling those arms around him. Gently grasping his hair to just release that extra tension. Unbuttoning those pants slowly, fumbling despite doing it so many times to tend your wounds near your hipline. As he kneels in between your legs. His long fingers hooking on the belt loops and pulling it off, as the panties come off with it. This was one of the few times you looked shy. You never were this shy in front of him when you needed something. Only he got to see this side. Doctor Zayne, was the only one seeing you in this state. Discarding your pants elsewhere in the room, as he yanks off his belt and unzips his dress pants. His bulge greeted the air. Slowly peeling off his pants, as he was about to take off his boxers; he looked at you. You needed him. Not how you said earlier. But it might as well mean the same thing. Zayne went down to capture your lips, this time nipping at your lips. As his own hand slipped onto the elastic band of his boxers, to slip it down his thighs. To kick it off behind him. 

“Doctor- I mean Zayne-” He craved more. He wanted more. The sinful want that fell from your wet lips made his breath get caught in his chest.

“What can I do for you darling?” His mouth breaks to fully hear your pleas. 

“I need you. Please”. His calloused fingers grasped his leaking member. Slowly pumped it before guiding it to your wet entrance. His mind was elsewhere. How he prayed he will be the first and only one to see you in this state. You are his patient. He was the one that will always be there for you. Slowly pushing into you, your face contorts into discomfort. Your nails racking down his sweating back as he grits his teeth.

“Breathe for me,” stating as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He only studied anatomy. The practice was never studied. As your breathing steadied, he pushed in inch-after-inch until he was fully inside. “It’s okay darling. Let me handle this like I always have.” Zayne’s fingers gently gripped the bed. As one hand held part of your hip, he started to slowly find its rhythm. Melodic moans filling the apartment, harmonizing with his moans. Until her phone started to buzz. 

Caleb

Zayne wanted Caleb to hear everything that he was hearing. To see every droplet of sweat trailing down your body that came from him. However, some things were kept a secret. Just like a patient and doctor. His pace went harder, more relentless without realizing as you finally gasped out.

“I’m cumming Zayne”. He was frantic for your touch. Your nails dug in as your orgasm coursed through. Zayne was not far behind, before he pulled out, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His hand is adjusting so it’s near your hair. Tugging it oh so slightly.

“Me too darling-” his seed spewing out onto your bare stomach. His panting slowly subsided. “You finally listened to me.” A smile tugging on the corners of his lips, as he kisses your forehead. Getting up to grab a paper towel to clean up his mess he decided at that moment to put it on you. Discarding the paper towel, before grabbing the blanket you wrapped yourself up earlier to hug the both of you on the couch. You were slowly falling asleep as he tucks himself between the back of the couch and you, one arm pulling you close. 

“What about work?”

“I can call in.” “But what about the patients?”

“But you said you needed me darling” As your exhausted eyes closed, he tucks a hair sticking to your nose, behind your ear. Before picking up your phone and noticing a few missed calls from that childhood friend of yours. Unlocking it. Then merely texting a simple message.

[I am with her now. Doctor’s orders. She is in the utmost care. Talk to me anytime you need a talk (11:32pm - Doctor Zayne)]

[gamerwoo]

hi im alive i think i have (had??) tonsillitis but my tonsils are feeling a lot better today and im less stuffy but i’ve stayed home from work all week and my boss and coworkers definitely hate me for it 🙃

but in good news: my new keyboard showed up!!!! it’s like clear/pink and it sounds super satisfying to type with, i just need to get used to the new spacing since it is smaller than my old one and doesn’t have a numpad but eeeee im excited to use it!!!!!

[pomefioredove]

If you're still taking requests, I think something funny would be Idia w a reader/yuu that, in the middle of listening to him ramble (with lovey dovey eyes bc they like listening to him <3) just says. Would. Or like I want you. Like they didn't notice they were saying that out loud and now Idia and them are both dying but Ortho is just like OMG ITS HAPPENING FINALLY EXITING STAGE LEFT! hahdhahshsh I hope you get what I'm saying, completely fine if not!

I got u anon

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ slip of the tongue

type of post: fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu author's note: I know very little about video games so I stole a lot of idia's dialogue from my boyfriend. if he sees this. um. hi baby

"The designs are pretty good. I mean, they fit the same three molds, but they're unique, you know?"

Idia shows you his screen again, rolling his gaming chair to the side so you can get a better look at the game he's been explaining to you for half an hour.

"The fighting is kinda button-mashy, but the graphics are cool enough, so I don't really care,"

You haven't gotten so much as a word in for almost ten minutes now, but that doesn't bother you. You like listening to him talk.

He goes back to the game menu to show you the special features, and then to the menu again. His long, nimble fingers dance across his keyboard, as if he were made for this, and he pulls up another screen with a lot of numbers in colored text.

"The game is free, but it's got an insane file size for it. 180gb. Nothing should be that big,"

Your thoughts become a little louder as you zone out, letting his words, heavy with tech jargon and fast with excitement, become music. You can't always keep up with Idia when he starts going on tangents like this. Usually you have questions, but now, you can't think of any. You're looking more at him than the screen. He's being distractingly cute today.

You sigh, letting your thoughts rest on the tip of your tongue, and without meaning to:

"Would,"

Idia's hands jump off the keyboard, and he goes still. Oh. Shit.

He wasn't supposed to hear that.

He slowly turns to look at you, his eyes widened, his face beet-red. In your defense, you really thought he wasn't listening.

You don't say anything. Either of you. You wait. He waits. His computer eventually powers down, making the room a little darker. Finally, Idia looks away.

"...I forgot what I was saying," he mumbles.

Weird. Okay, he's just going to ignore that? Is that good or bad?

You look away, too. "Something about the file size. I think you were-"

"Did you mean that," he asks, but it's not exactly a question. More like a demand for an answer.

"Um..." you say, looking at the floor. "...Yeah, I did."

Idia narrows his eyes at you. He's quiet, studying you, your expression, your body language. For what, you don't know. Maybe he thinks you're lying. Whatever it is, though, he doesn't say.

"...Okay," he finally says, turning back to his monitor. "Well... um... at least give me some warning next time, or something. I would've dressed nicer."

You blink. Next time. "...Yeah. Okay. Next time, then,"

[thesharktanksdriver]

The witch boy and magical girl (platonic)

Sorry the ending is a bit rushed, I have a wake This weekend and a funeral plus exam on Monday

I still wanted to get this out tho so enjoy!

Magical girl y/n masterlist

Bruce could deal with a lot more than the average person could ever imagine

He’s dealt with a literal killer manic clown

Aliens

Vampires

56 assassins attacking him at once

Literal end of the world events once a year at least

But he doesn’t think anything compares to what he finds himself peering in on now

When he adopted a daughter who fights shadow creatures that feed off of negative human emotions and want to literally eat the universe he knew he was gonna see some weird shit

The weird cosmic ferret, he’d mentally dealt with that already

Same with the Magical weapons that transform and how his new daughter could change her appearance at will

That he could all deal with

But watching his daughter paint her nails with Klarion the witch boy, lord of chaos while they talked about sailor moon wasn’t something he thought he’d have to grapple with

So instead he closes the door and ponders his life and how it got to this point

How you somehow befriended the witch boy started as all good things do

Accidentally finding a someone being tormented by Shadowmites that you have to then kill

But oddly enough instead of the usual human it was…a cat?

An orange cat with distinct blood red eyes and striped black rigged markings

It hissed and scratched at the Shadowmites but was unable to harm them much to its confusion

Until you whacked its assailants with a hammer making them dissipate into nothing

It stared at you and you stared at the cat

And it just kinda tagged along with you for the rest of your patrol

To be fair…having a ultra intelligent possibly eldritch creature in the disguise of a regular animal wasn’t really a “new” thing to you

So when the cat began to follow you it didn’t really bother you much

If anything it was kinda funny especially since Rigel seemed to have an almost silent companionship with the feline

Staring down at the ginger cat from his perch on your shoulders as you continued your nightly patrol

Chittering and barking as the cat meowed back occasionally

If at this point you questioned anything in life anymore you’d be curious as to how their seemingly communicating but now you couldn’t really care

You were just happy the seemingly demon cat got along with your ex-deity ferret

Along with the fact that this seemingly aggressive cat who tried to scratch the eyes out of anyone who got too close for its liking seemed to enjoy your presence

Even at one point during your food break curling up in your lap wanting to be lavished in attention

The violent cat being reduced to a softly purring mass of fluffy orange hair

Black leather collar and red gemstone attached to it

This was definitely some bougie cat, almost definitely a supernatural one as well considering it saw Shadowmites

But the collar definitely implied an owner

A rich one at that too

So you post online with a picture of yourself and the cat asking for its owner

Mostly since the collar had some type of ancient language not spoken by you in a hieroglyphic type of alphabet

Cool as hell

But impractical to you as you tried to Google translate it

He’ll you’d even sent a picture to dick and all you got back was garbled nonsense that looked like he slammed his face against a keyboard

Which was probable since he was on yet another coffee bender where he stayed up for too long

Alfred would definitely not be pleased

But back on topic of the eldritch Garfield cat, eventually you got a response

But not via online

More like in person since a figure then materialized in front of you via scarlet fire

And there floating in all his glory was lord of chaos Klarion the witch boy

Looking back maybe you should have payed more attention during that one league meeting your dad took you to where they talked about him

To be fair though, at the time you were surviving on 2 hours of sleep, a combination of redbull and monsters along with hopes and dreams

So you couldn’t be blamed in remembering he had a cat familiar

Or said cat familiar was likely an eldritch level entity in the form of a cat

A cat with red eyes

….ok maybe there were more obvious warnings and you were just excited about the weird cat to notice

As you had a mental debate with yourself there he stood, hair pointed upwards into what looked to be horns and in a suit

Magic twisting around him in a scarlet aura

Distinctly you notice patches of ice blue on the tips of his fingers that quickly distort to the flesh tone consistent with him

And from then on out the encounter with him is…odd to say the least

His cat (whom you then learned was named Teekl) getting up from your lap

Klarion is….odd

He scoops up his familiar fretting over the ginger cat, making subtle threats your way the entire time

Asking the kitty if he had to “erase someone from existence” once again

But luckily for you whatever the cat meows to him is enough for him to cast a glance back to you

Though now not out of suspicion but instead curiosity

(Something perhaps to others would be just as bad)

He quirks an eye at you, looking you up and down once more but now giving you a proper look

Now seeming to notice your own magical aura and companion of otherworldly nature

And suddenly something clicks in his head

“You’re that magic girl I’ve heard about.” He says gliding a hand through the fur of his familiar, the demonic cat purring in content.

“Bit vague of a statement, but yeah that’s one way to describe me I guess” you respond shrugging your shoulders laxly, he seems on edge even with your demeanour.

“And your…not attacking me? Not trying to play goody-two shoes? And “bring me to justice” with a big speech about doing good” He almost seems to hiss this out. A defensive air to him.

“Look dude, I deal with weird inter-dimensional shadow creatures that feed on negative human emotions” you explain pulling out your magical weapon in the shape of an axe, you close an eye and aim while biting your tongue before throwing it to hit said shadowmite clinging to his shoulder. The creature gives out a cry, before dissipating into a melting puddle of inky black sizzling liquid, he stares down now seemingly more intrigued. “I don’t deal with robberies or anything besides those things and the occasional helping someone. Plus I’m decent friends with a few villains of the city”

“I’ve been trying to kill that thing for ages…” he pauses whisky looking down at the creature. Teekl hisses at the disappearing remnants of the creature. “How come your able to destroy them?”

“Only magic from their realm can kill them, I’m the only one with access to it ”

For a long moment the witch boy goes quiet, staring at the spot the puddle used to be. He turns his face to you once more, a smile on his face. “I think I like you Magic girl. Your more interesting than I thought.” He says this so suddenly that your left a bit baffled yet you give him a thumbs up. This seems to make him more amused as a portal opens beneath him, “I’ll be in touch”. With that he left

As he said Klarion would appear to you a few nights later on your lunch break during patrol

Quite literally appearing from nowhere as he laid down kicking his legs back and forth

Along with stealing some of your fries

You had to resist the urge from stopping him from stealing your food, it was still hard getting used to having an abundance of food now

There was no more scraping together to afford cup ramen from the 711 cashier who’d pretend not to notice the missing 50 cents

No more going to go to bed hungry because of the free lunch program at Gotham academy and reasoning you’d save your scraps for dinner the next day

No more barely scraping by just to survive

But never truly live though, surving was different to truly living

You couldn’t call your much of life before your adoption as living

The only moments you did truly feel alive was when you’d save someone or watch old reruns of sailor moon or cardcaptor sakura

Forever dreaming to be a better hero like them

To be a pretty sailor scout who saved the day despite being scared

To be able to enjoy something as mundane as skating on roller blades without potentially being mugged

Though your trying to get used to having free time

Having a Better sleeping schedules

Having Food

And having free time

It’s still feels odd

Still is weird to finally have time to yourself with nothing to fill it with

Even like now on your break during patrol you don’t know how to spend it

But now at least you have more company to fill that uncertainty of what to do

Curiously Klarion eyes your weapon, before finally speaking aloud

For awhile he asks mostly about your abilities

The extent of your power and what type of magic you could do

Showing him your weapon and transformation seems to cause him more questions

Especially since he mumbles to himself about your magic being different to anything he’s seen

As a lord of chaos it was safe to say he was adverse to almost all types of magic there was to offer

So seeing something this new and odd after millenniums of years of being alive is certainly a sight

He even says so to your face

Which brings up the question to you, after so long he’s still a kid?

You get that he probably ages slower than most, almost all magical creatures or people did

But after so long he was still a kid?

You can’t say you relate

You grew up too fast

But maybe that’s why your equally intrigued by the horned boy

You begin to notice that at some point he began to watch you from afar during missions

Sometimes from a rooftop

Other times it’s from an alleyway

Klarion watches and you always find yourself waving to him

But as time goes on he gets closer

Even if Damien or Jason tag along with you

But neither seem to notice him

No one but yourself ever does even if in a crowd of people he’d be someone they’d be fleeing from

Definitely some sort of magic stuff

Or maybe he was just oddly good at blending in

Either way you see him and wave and he gets closer each time

As does his vists during your break where he asks you questions of your magic

Your abilities

What the shadowmites are and what their goals are?

Are they fully sentient?

Their all things that you answer him as best you can, now bringing extra food for him so he didn’t steal from you anymore

Yet despite that he always steals a fry

Probably something he finds funny and something you find yourself less anxious about now

In a lot of ways he reminds you of a cat which is funny considering his familiar

He watched from a distance before getting closer and closer as time went on

Mischievous and sometimes a bit spiteful but with a playful edge like a cat pushing something off a shelf with fluffy claws

Positive interaction usually being something that pushes him farther away at first but now gravitates him closer

It’s odd

He’s odd

But so are you

A lord of chaos and a magical girl definitely weren’t titles that upheld the pillars of normality

So it’s perhaps not odd either of you are the way you are

And yet it draws you both closer like magnets all the same

Meetings get more frequent

As do more topics of much more mundane things being brought up

He asks you about human things he doesn’t understand, questions he’d feel to embarrassed to ask any of his “allies” due to not wanting to be written off as an oblivious kid

Because for as much as Klarion tries to be taken seriously he’s still subtly looked down upon

His chaos seen as little more than that of a child being given godly power to wield at his command

But over your talks you come to see there’s much more to it all

Lords of chaos function differently to humans both physically, emotionally and mentally

What was seen as mindless abject chaos to others was an art form and way of living and expression to them

A means to express and delight in the non-orderly nature of the universe, to live not constricted to the boundaries of reality itself

Constructing a landscape of Picasso paintings come to life or making a smiley face by moving the stars out of their places in their solar systems are a sort of expression to him

They viewed the universe as their canvas

That could be both good and bad in various ways

It’s the same in the fact too much order could be bad

Because chaos and order are a revolving door that need one another

They weren’t objectively good or bad, just neutral in nature until the scales tipped too much in one direction

Because complete anarchy is objectively terrible but so it a totalitarian police state

Both are bad in different ways because the scales are unbalanced

And now he’s left one of the last of his kind, for better or worse

And he’s a lot more lonely than he’d like to admit

Because he’s surrounded in a sea of beings too unfamiliar to his own

Orderly creatures in an orderly society in an orderly world and in an orderly universe or at least that’s how it feels to him

Human bodies function in certain predicable patterns as do the ways their societies work. Cogs and Gears working orderly in a intricate machine

And that makes it all the more confusing and alien to him in a bad way

But you can understand feeling alike to society even if you are human

So you try your best to explain to him

And even if at times he still seems confused he seems appreciative that you try

That you don’t seem to look down on him for not understanding humans and how humanity works as a whole

Because how can anyone assume that he would when he’s a lord of chaos

It’s literally in the name

And from then on it grows

The interest beyond the supernatural to the mundane

You show him the little things in life

Taking him in disguise to your favourite hotdog stand on a corner of a dodgy street down to walking him around Gotham and almost getting shanked along the way

All the while you show him that humanity is quite as orderly as he thought

He sees graffiti sprayed on brick walls, tags of neon colour of names that people try to scrub off but stubbornly and triumphantly remain

A person in odd dress on the street corner waiting for a bus, the way in which their clothes don’t mesh at all and the colour clash but they wear it anyways in style

The little shortcuts you take him to through alleyways and through abandoned buildings still standing to the test of time.

By his smile you think he comes to appreciate it all

The small signs that the machine he assumed humanity to be wasn’t just that

Cogs and gears too big or too small, bringing a bit of chaos in their wake

He knows your identity, you’ve known that he’s known for a long while now, and yet for some reason you trust him with it

Just as he trusts you to treat him all the same while in his true form

Blue skin, red eyes and all

And he’s seen you too

The girl behind the dramatic cutesy clothes, magically changing eyes, hair, face and height

You were just you

Klarion was just Klarion

And Tekyl and Rigel tagging along with it all

But to be honest you’d never thought he’d trust you enough for this

Whats this exactly? Oh well just him dragging you along to a meeting the Light was having as his quote on quote “human translator”

Aka explaining to him human things he didn’t understand

Aka him just wanting you there to sit with him for the duration of said meeting

Your not sure how this happened

Neither is any other member except the old man your pretty sure is Damien’s assassin grandfather

You can tell by the pointed emerald green eyes, similarly deathly composed demeanour and the same look of surprised/somehow impressed he gives you similar to when Damien sees half the shit you deal with

Speaking of which you’ll need to get him on board with Klarion to have another member for clue night

But that was a later issue

The real issue was right now

Klarion arguing with half the people here as you stand there more exasperated than anything

The witch boy occasionally shaking you by the shoulders…and climbing on you hissing and swiping at people who got too close

You see why a demon cat is his familiar

But even Teykl seemed a bit annoyed by his behaviour by how she rolled their eyes

Didn’t know cats could do that but hey, teykl’s also a demon cat so there’s probably a lot she can do compared to regular cats

Just as cute, but more lethal though instead of just getting a quick swipe at your hand

A door opens, a new contender for the fight

Though luckily (or unluckily for you) it’s Deathstroke

Instinctively you wave

And that pauses the fight

“Hey, how was that job abroad? I haven’t seen any dictators dead yet”

“You’ll be seeing it in the news soon, but what are you doing here?”

“Klarion brought me”

“Ah”

“You have a shadowmite on your shoulder, hold on, lemme get get it for you” and with that you transform you magical weapon, sparkles fly as a bright light momentarily flashes the room. In your hands was a battle axe, pink with bows and ribbons flowing as you chuck it at the invisible creature now made visible on Slade’s shoulder when the blade imbeds itself into the things flesh. It screeches reaching a shadowy hand as it’s pinned to the wall, prying your axe from the wall it falls to the floor but can’t get free as you hold it down beneath your foot. There’s no last words for the creature, just hungry screaming for its next victim until the axe comes down on its head severing the tie from this world.

The room is silent for a few moments, “you could’ve killed it with just the throw if you aimed a bit more to the left. Besides that you had good form”

You get to sit between both Klarion and Slade for the meeting

Somehow you doing your hero job impressed (more like terrified) this group of villains

Maybe it was manifesting your weapon from thin air within the blink of an eye

Maybe the fact you threw it at Mach 1

Maybe it was the fact that you could’ve summoned it at any time, make it any weapon you wanted including a bazooka at will

Or maybe it was learning your keeping the literal universe from being eaten on a daily basis from inter-dimensional shadow creatures who’ve eaten countless realities already

Fun thing to explain to such a diverse group ranging from a evil billionaire, a dictator and two immortal men who were older than dirt

The entire meeting you end up keeping Klarion from impulsively deciding to leave because he found it boring and drawn out

To be fair to him it definitely was, but how he’s gotten away with disappearing 30 minutes in each time was beyond you

So somehow you do the impossible

He stays the duration of the full meeting

It’s a first for everyone

What’s also a first is that Tekyl hasn’t gone off and scratched some unfortunate members leg like a scratching post

Mostly because she stayed perched in your lap along with Rigel

Later on when hanging out with Klarion on a roof your not surprised when he mentions that you’ve been offered a “partial membership”

He laughs and burns the letter for you

You’d think that the meeting between Damien and Klarion wouldn’t go well

And you’d be mostly right

At least until Damien spotted Tekyl on klarions shoulder and somehow the two ended up talking about things

And looking past the being a hero and being an super villain they got along well

Well enough that your now slightly worried for anyone who sent you weird messages online again

Because now they’ll have to deal with Tim giving these two their up address

But beyond that you feel bad for Bruce

Because dear god when he finds out Damien invited the lord of chaos to movie night

Jason was gonna love him

Your iffy about Tim but you know Dick is gonna practically wedge himself into the three of you hanging out before Damine threatens him or Klarion sends him halfway across the world or something

Besides all of that though your happy he gets along with Damien

That he has another human friend

Your also proud of Damien as well

Though you do wish he’d stop giving Klarion new ideas for his schemes

Showing him MLP wants a good idea when the character of discord existed

Yeah he had a field day when he was introduced

Chocolate rain and literal actual cotton candy clouds had a lot more of an environmental impact than shown in the kids show

Thankfully it was only the UK that suffered the side effects

And a very pissed off John Constantine

At some point you and Damien begin to sneak him into the manor

Somehow Alfred knew and can only smile and warn the lord of chaos to turn things back to normal before he leaves

And so the fun begins

Damien shows him his swords collection and bat cow

You end up binging madoka magica with him and your collection of magical girl figures

He ends up showing you and Damien some of his magic

And the infinite pillow fort in the corner of your room is born

It literally goes on forever…you think

Is there an end? You don’t know, but all you do know is that at some point you went in there and emerged 7 hours later still not reaching the end

Kinda like the backrooms but with less monsters and piss stained looked walls and carpet but instead with pastel pillows and my melody and kuromi merch scattered around

Now having permission to appear in the manor, or at least in yours or Damien’s rooms he sometimes appears at odd hours of the night

Like you’ll wake up at 4 am and find him hanging out in your room

Sometimes resting in a corner quietly with Tykl

Other times just poking around your room with curiosity, examine various nick knacks you have

Photographs and poosters

High class Jewelry and handmade bracelets

Old magical girl shows on equally old cds and the new HD releases on blue-ray

Books that were yellowed and brand new ones piled on a shelf

He admires them all

Turning them over in his blue palms or tracing them fondly with a pointed finger

He sees the wear and tear in the old and the loving upkeep behind it all

The new items that you gratefully covet like the old

There’s an unexpected and uncharacteristic fragility to his actions

A certain look in his eyes that faulted under the weight of your own once he realizes your awake

In which he then finds himself sitting at your side

Crossing his legs and pretending to stare at nothing in particular

Though you see his gaze occasionally flicker from your window showing the Gotham night and then back to you

It continues like this until you take his hand and get up from bed

Dragging him through the darkened halls

Depending on the night schedule of that particular day sometimes the two of you go to the gardens

Sitting down on the marble benches to listen to the calming sound of water flowing from the fountain

His hands shifting and turning to create illusionary magic

A rabbit hopping through the air in streams of starlight

Like the white rabbit of Alice in wonderland, then slowly leading you to the land of dreams

The next morning you wake up in your bed as if nothing happened

The only proof of the night before being the flower crown he made for you to match the one you made him still on your head

Woven in messy hair

Other times you show him to the library but not before a small detour to the kitchen

Taking the secret stash of Alfred’s beloved cookies to snack on as you read together by the fire

Your duvet blanket wrapped around the two of you and was dragged halfway across the mansion floor

Surely leaving a small trail of feathers in its wake that’ll lead Alfred to you in the morning

And depending on if Damien is there that night you go to knock on his door

Your brother in everything but blood opening his door and inviting the two of you in

Thankfully Damien’s bed was renovated to be big enough to fit him and his pets

So the three of you can laze on it comfortably without being pressed for space

Sometimes a board game is pulled out

Other times you all just talking until passing out

And sometimes when you fall asleep first both he and Damien talk heart to heart

About what exactly your not privy to

But your just happy both get along so well after the bumpy meeting

Sometimes Bruce calls you along with the justice league if they need your help with him

Honestly it’s flattering and funny at the same time

You can’t help but feel a bit bad for his teammates who see your pastels and instantly known that Klarion is gonna pull out the battle in an instant

He used to complain about it

But now the minute you show up and politely chid him for nearly exploding a building he snaps his fingers and things are back to normal

And then he teleports you away to hang out as per usual

Is this usual to everyone but yourself and him and maybe Damien? Highly

But do you care? Not exactly when you have a friend

And also end up helping Bruce/dad

To be honest your still unused to calling him dad yet

You definitely view him as your dad, he’s been the only one besides Rigel to fill that role

But it’s weird saying it aloud

Of carving it in stone

Putting it to paper

Saying how you feel and being emotionally intimate when you’d built up walls and barriers

Opening up is still hard for you, even after various times you had let people in

You’d think it would get easier to open the gate around your heart but there’s always a hint of hesitation each time

Like a twitch in your fingers

A whisper in your mind

Because you care for people

You care about your new family, your friends, Klarion included

And it’s hard each time to feel the guilt of hesitation

Because it isn’t them but it’s you

You feel it now as you sit atop the top of Gotham

Watching the skyline as the cool air blows past

You wish to be open

To speak your mind and break down the walls but it feels so hard in the moment

So odd showing your hand

The cards up your sleeve

Opening the always shut door

How do you even introduce that? Hey here’s my heartfelt feelings

Each time you’ve done it beforehand it’s felt so awkward

So weird starting off

And then you get emotional

And start getting teary eyed and people ask if your ok and that makes you break-

Klarion is the one who starts first

It comes from nowhere, like a sudden burst of chaos that makes sense for him and a surprise for you

He explains to you that “when I gaze at you i see mortality incarnate”

Something that will last moments to him in his life yet will haunt him for the rest of eternity

Like a glass doll that will inevitably break and yet in its fragility holds incomprehensible beauty

A blazing fire that’ll eventually burn out yet it’s gentle warmth lingers

A memory never forgotten and always there even if the moments is long gone

He’s lived so long and will continue to live even when your long gone

He’s similar to Rigel in that regard

Something and someone so consequential that they’ll last millions of years

You’d only become important from chance compared to him and many others

They were born great, with powers or had qualities that made them special

You became a magical girl because Rigel picked you by chance (or at least that’s how you felt)

And yet here’s a lord of chaos, an god in almost human form saying you were important

That you were special besides your powers

He explains to you that he’s met many magic users

Some competent others masters

Yet none were like you

But what was initial the thing that drew him in didn’t matter

One day he would’ve forgot, it would’ve faded from his chaos filled brain eventually

But what remains is you

Not the magic, the thing that made you special

But you

Just you at your most plain and simple

It wasn’t the magical girl who saves Gotham from an invisible force that not even he could fight

Not the frills and magical transformations or weapons

Not the limited magical abilities that could make you level a building easily

It was just you

All the times you’d shown him through the streets of Gotham

The willingness to explain to him concepts of humanity he didn’t understand

The kindness in your gaze when he shows you his true form without a hint of apprehension

“And it’s there” he says that he comes to value you for all your worth, humans for all their worth

Because despite their fate set in stone

The fact that they can die so easily compared to just about everything in the galaxy

Despite it all they shine the brightest somehow

Because beings like himself have hundreds of millions of years to do something with their lives

To shine slowly and at a snails pace becomes stars

But humans with their short lives make the most of it all

They may die but in those terminally short years to others in this large universe they become a supernova

And their impact is heard and felt across time and space itself

Because sometimes despite it all an ant can move a mountain and that’s a whole lot more impressive than when a god does it

And an ant doing it will always be more impactful when it knows that at the end it’ll die moving that mountain

But does it anyways

“This…may be be a weird question but in a hundred years when I’m dead and gone…will you remember me?” You ask this in a moment of fragility, looking up to the smoggy night sky. Distantly you see the small glimmer of starlight hundreds of millions of lightyears away behind the pollution. “Even if I’m a blip in the grand scheme of things”

Klarion looks to those same stars, with a swipe of his hand the sky clears. For the first time in a hundred years Gotham sees the natural night sky. The dark navy blue of midnight and the hundreds of thousands of speckles of light dot the sky. “I will, somehow you humans make longer impacts than any creature I’ve ever met. For better or worse” it’s spoken in sincerity as he looks with you at the night, and distantly he chooses a star and decides that it’s you. A star he’ll one day look at when your dead and gone, a star that might already be dead and fizzled out and yet its light and impact still crosses the galaxy hundreds of thousands of years later to still shine, to still meet his eyes in the infinite dark if night.

A star that he would nurture and protect

To keep its light from going out

A star that one day he’ll clutch closely as the universe comes to a close from natural causes or the ravenous mouths of the creatures you fight

He says his piece and opens the way to say your own.

[loverslantern]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: To obtain a mystic gun capable of destroying the demon that killed their mother, the group must team up with John and face off against vampires.

Warnings: cannon violence and gore, John Winchester, arguing, girl kissing (not really a warning but), slightly jealous Dean??, reader being a nerd

Word Count: 8.5k

Dead Man's Blood

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Outfit Board)

 The cafe is quiet except for the distant chatter of conversations that melt together, the clinks of glasses and dishes, the clacking of a keyboard, and the shuffling of paper. So, maybe quiet isn’t the right word. Nevertheless, the steady background noise is peaceful. It brings me back to the days when I’d linger in cafes to study for an upcoming exam in both high school and college. Though, I suppose, looking through various obituaries and news articles to find our next hunt isn’t that different. “Well, man,” Dean starts, folding his newspaper. “Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What’ve you got?”

  I lean back in my seat, pushing away from the screen I’ve been looking out for God knows how long. “Nothing of note in Iowa, Kansas, or Missouri,” I announce, noting some of the states surrounding Nebraska. The various tabs open for each state are a little concerning. “Unless you count a woman in Iowa who managed to fall 10,000 feet from an airplane and survive.”

  “Sounds more like ‘That’s Incredible’ than, uh, ‘Twilight Zone,’” Dean remarks.

  “Yeah definitely weird but not that concerning,” I nod. It surely reeked of the supernatural because there was no human way to do that, but it also wasn’t a top-of-the-list concern when no one got hurt and it seemed like an isolated event.

  “Hey, Sam, you know we could keep heading East. New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh?” Dean suggests, smirking as he leans his elbows on the table. “Cool chick man, smokin’” he whistles. I shake my head, mentally grimacing. Yeah, she was attractive but to say it aloud and whistle about some girl your brother was clearly into? A little weird. “You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?”

  “Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday,” he answers vaguely. “But in the meantime, we got a lot of work to do Dean, and you know that.”

  “Yeah, alright,” Dean gives in.

  “You get anything in the states you checked?” I ask Sam, knowing he had looked at Wyoming, Colorado, and South Dakota. More states that surround the state we currently reside in. “Yeah,” he exhales. “Uh, a man in Colorado. A local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home.”

  “That’s certainly one way to go,” I mumble.

  “Elkins?” Dean echos. “I know that name.”

  “You do?” I ask.

  “Doesn’t ring a bell,” Sam shakes his head.”Sounds like the police don’t know what to think,” he continues as his brother mumbles Elkins under his breath and pulls out their Dad’s journal. “At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they’ve found some signs of robbery.”

  “You know, sometimes it amazes me how the police solve anything,” I remark. Sure, if it’s supernatural related then they don’t have the upper hand of knowledge but seriously a bear attack and a robbery are two completely different things.

  Dean hums absentmindedly in acknowledgment, flicking through the journal. “There, check it out,” he announces, flipping the book around for us to see. A phone number resides on the page right next to the name. “You think it’s the same Elkins?” Sam asks.

  “It’s a Colorado area code,” Dean points out. 

****

  Sam kneels on the wooden porch, the flashlight illuminating his work with the lockpick. It’s not too long before the lock clicks, and the door creeps open with a turn and push.

  “Looks like the maid didn’t come today,” Dean comments, looking over a table cluttered with books and papers. Otherwise, this room was pretty clean at least in terms of the crime. “Hey, there’s salt over here. Right beside the door,” Sam announces, lingering by the front door. 

  “You mean protection against demon salt or, ‘oops I spilled the popcorn’ salt?” Dean asks, his interest tuned into a journal he discovered on the desk.

  My flashlight guides my eyes across the room. It didn’t happen in this room, it doesn’t seem like the perpetrator(s) came from the front door into the entryway. “It’s clearly a ring,” Sam clarifies. “You think this guy Elkins was a player?”

  “Definitely,” he answers. I wander a little further into the house, the real mess lying in the next room over, the door knocked off its hinges. “That looks a hell of a lot like Dad’s,” Sam says. I look over my shoulder, and both boys are checking out the journal. “Yep, except this dates back to the 60s,” Dean responds.

  I step into what looks to be an office, or what’s left of it. It’s pure destruction. If you told me a tornado came through this room I’d believe you. Broken and overturned furniture litter the floor, books and papers scattered about. I can barely see the floor, it's all covered. “Whoever this guy was, he put up a hell of a fight,” I comment as I carefully step further into the room, glass crunching beneath my shoe. Glass but no broken windows. “Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one,” Sam adds, looking up at the ceiling. I follow his gaze to the broken sunroof, the source of the glass.

  Where did the police get a bear attack from even if he did have scratch marks on him? Did they think it fell into the sunroof? I could understand the robbery considering the mess, but a bear? Seriously? I shake my head at the thought, walking over to the cleared-off desk. Whatever was atop it was on the floor now. “Do you think whoever or whatever did this was looking for something?” I ask, taking in the mess again. Some of it was from fighting, but the desk's open draws, which were barely hanging on, suggests it may be more. It could be an added motive. “Maybe,” Sam answers before his attention turns over to his brother who is crouched down and examining the floor. “You got something?” Sam asks.

 “I dunno,” he answers. “Some scratches on the floor.”

  “Death throes maybe?” Sam suggests, referring to the last moments before the end. 

  “Yeah, maybe,” Dean says, grabbing a nearby notebook. He opens a page, placing it over the scratches before using a pencil to scratch over it revealing the marks better. “Or maybe a message.” He peels up the paper, some blood soaked into the back, but the markings are clear. “Look familiar?” He asks, holding it up.

  “Three letters, six digits,” Sam answers. “The location and combination of a post office box. It’s a mail drop.” The message was an incredible feat to manage before death took him under. To be able to scatch it out…it must be more than important.

  “Just the way Dad does it,” Dean adds. 

****

 A simple letter rests in Sam’s hand. The letter was found in the post office box. “‘J.W.’” Sam reads off the envelope, “You think that's John Winchester?”

  “I mean your Dad clearly knew the guy,” I offer, his number is inside the journal. “Maybe he even learned this way of communicating from him.” 

“Should we open it?” Dean asks, something uncertain yet insistent in his voice. But, no one gets to answer the question on each of our minds when, instead, there is a knock on the driver-side window. Dean gasps and flinches, his arm raised in defense. “Dad?” he breathes, his fist lowering. The door beside me opens then, hazel eyes looking at me expectantly. I raise my eyebrows with a tight-lipped smile as I scooch over. He takes my seat, closing the door behind him. “Dad, what are you doing here?” Sam asks. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” he answers simply. He looks the same as the last time we saw him, with messy dark hair similar to Sam’s cut and a ragged beard. “I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place.”

  “Why didn’t you come in Dad?” Sam questions, his voice soft as if he knows the answer.

  “You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren’t followed…by anyone or anything,” John responds. He sounds more paranoid than anything. It sounds like a sad excuse to avoid speaking and seeing his kids again, but I keep those thoughts to myself. “Nice job of covering your tracks by the way,” he compliments. And it’s like being buttered up before the roast— before you’re put right back on the fire that eats at you until you forget your self-worth. 

  “Yeah, well, we learned from the best,” Dean answers with a proud smile on his face as his chest puffs out a little bit.

  “Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?” Sam points out.

  “Yeah. He was... he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting,” he reveals. I guess I was somewhat right on my assumption. “Well, you never mentioned him to us,” Sam shrugs.

  “We had a... we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years,” he explains, gesturing towards the envelope. “I should look at that.” Sam hands it over easily, and his father wastes no time in opening it. “'If you're reading this, I'm already dead',” he reads, trailing off. “That son of a bitch.”

  “What is it?” Dean asks.

  “He had it the whole time,” he answers vaguely as if we know what he's talking about. “Has what?” I ask.   “When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?” He asks each question one right after the other almost frantically.   “Uh, there was, there was an old case but it was empty,” Dean answers.

  “They have it,” John announces.

  “‘You mean whatever killed Elkins?” Dean asks. John opens the door, shifting to get out. “We gotta pick up the trail.” But before he can make it out of the vehicle Sam stops him, “Wait. ‘You want us to come with you?”

  “If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun,” he explains, doing that thing where he’s insanely unhelpful.

  “The gun–why?” Sam pushes.   “Because it's important, that's why,” he replies. I roll my eyes, for a guy who wasn’t very present he managed to be incredibly irritating. “Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet,” Sam reasons. 

  “They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires,” he reveals, finally being helpful.   “Vampires? I thought there was no such thing,” Dean answers.

  “You didn’t?” I ask, surprised.

  “You did?” He throws right back with a just as surprised tone as mine.

  “Yeah,” I say like it's obvious. “I took down a nest back in college.” It was the first and only time I had encountered a vampire let alone a vampiric hunt. Students started to go missing, seemingly picked off one by one, and like any school word had spread quickly. It was weird, yes, but with no bodies and only having gossip I had nothing to work with. No one saw anything, the picks were clean and concise. Well, that was until certain bodies did show up. Four out of nine bodies were found, two were located near or around campus grounds, and the others were left in the town that was a short drive from the school. I managed to pull some strings and cash in ‘I owe you’ to see the bodies firsthand. My initial thought was vampires but the thought was more of a joke than anything, I thought I was watching too much Buffy. But then some research made a joke no longer a joke. It was vampires and I had to kill them.

  I can remember it still, the way the heads went flying and how blood caked my clothes. Buffy makes it look cleaner than what it is. 

  “You did?” John asks, his voice dripping in disbelief and sass. “Don’t sound so surprised,” I mumble, my distaste for him almost painfully clear in the curl of my lip. He has been here for less than five minutes and I’m already a little irritated. I’d like to think that I’m not a hateful person, that I don’t hold grudges or malice but when it comes to John Winchester suddenly I’m the biggest hater you’ve ever seen. “Well, I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and—“ he throws a glare at me. “And others had wiped them out. I was wrong.”   “You were,” I agree, smiling a little at the slow turn of his head as he stares at me with daggers. 

  “Most vampire lore is crap,” he starts, his voice gruff, looking back at his boys. “A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late.”

  “The way to kill them is decapitation,” I add. “Interestingly enough the story to get it right is a work of fiction, though, of course, you could argue that it was only presented that way and the author knew more than any normal person would. The final blow in Carmilla, written by some Irish guy, is her head being struck off. Before that was a stake through the heart but, it’s interesting that he would add the decapitation aspect especially when it’s the first ever Vampire novel so it’s not like he changed things to be different.”

  “Are you done?” John remarks, unamused.

  “Yeah, now I am,” I respond, equally unamused with him.

  “Wake up! Come on,” a voice demands. I grumble something incoherent, my fingers softly curling into the warmth beneath my hand. The something beneath my hand rumbles with the “Mm-hmm,” that follows from its lips. 

  My eyes squint open, my hand resting on Dean's chest, fingers clutching his shirt, his arm resting around my waist. We didn’t fall asleep like this when John hated the very idea of us sharing a bed even though we’d done it before. I know John doesn’t trust me, even though I haven’t done anything to warrant such feelings. It’s more like he doesn’t trust who I am and he makes it known with every look and side comment. Yet, as much as he hated it, he didn’t want me in a separate room because it would “waste time and money.” So, we had slept back to back which felt so horribly unnatural.

  I do not make a move to separate from him. He rubs his eyes and I want to bury my face into the pillow in a desperate attempt to grasp onto the remains of sleep but the sight of his messy short hair going every which way, and his eyes barely being held open from the sleep that clings to them keeps my attention. Even on interrupted sleep, he looks so good. “I picked up a police call,” John announces, the faint noise of radio static proving his statement. 

  “What happened?” Sam asks, his voice laced with sleep. Dean’s hand drops from his eyes going, instead, to my hand on his chest. He gives it a little squeeze and it would be so easy to just fall back into a sweet sleep with the butterflies that dance in my stomach. But, the harsh reality of, well, reality comes crashing back when John answers, “A couple called 911, ‘found a body in the street. Cops got there. Blood was missing. It's the vampires.”

  “How do you know?” Sam asks logically. But, John is already halfway out the door forgoing explanations as he typically does. “Just follow me, okay?” he responds, shutting the door behind him. 

“Huh, vampires,” Dean muses, his eyes still half open. “Gets funnier every time I hear it.”

****

 The spin of red and blue lights shatters the atmosphere, a long cloth placed over a body in the middle of the road, yellow tape sanctioning off the area as cops work the scene, and a certain irritating Winchester talking to a cop as we are forced to wait by the Impala like kids waiting while their parent talks to an old friend and you just know you’re going to be waiting forever. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have gone over with him,” Sam complains, sulking slightly. 

  “Should’ve let us sleep,” I agree, mumbling. I don’t see the point in dragging us from bed just to put us on the back burner, but I guess that’s John for you. 

  “Oh, don’t tell me it’s already starting,” Dean responds.   “What's starting?” he asks. But he doesn’t get his answer as their father approaches, Dean putting his focus there. “What have you got?” he asks his Dad. 

  “It was them alright,” John confirms. “Looks like they’re heading west. We’ll have to double back to get around that detour.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Sam asks, arms crossed. 

  “Sam…” Dean warns.

  “I just wanna know we're going in the right direction,” he snaps at his brother.

  “We are,” John answers vaguely.

  “How do you know?” 

  John hands something small to Dean, answering with “I found this.” 

  Dean cups the long and sharp tooth in the palm of his hand. “It’s a…” he tries to find the words, “a vampire fang.”

  “It’s not necessarily a fang,” I correct. “An entire set of teeth that look just like that descends when they attack, covering the normal set of teeth.” 

  “Any more questions?” John asks, looking at Sam expectantly, a certain bite to his words. Sam remains quiet, his eyes flicking away—the kind of answer his father wants. No, an answer he expects. “Alright, let’s get out of here, we’re losing daylight,” John orders. He walks to his truck, a vehicle I suddenly love because he doesn’t have to be in the same car as us. “Hey, Dean why don’t you touch up your car before you get rust?” he throws back the comment, “I wouldn’t have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it.” 

  I look at Dean with widened eyes. His face drops. Drops. My heart might as well drop with it. I dig my nails into my palms in an attempt to control my mouth, my teeth clenched painfully to hold in my own comment. I should make him apologize. I should do more than that but I know it will only make it worse for them and that is the last thing I want. Yet, saying nothing feels worse so the word slips out before I can reel it back in. “Asshole,” I grumble beneath my breath, opening the back door to the Impala.

  “What’d you say?” John asks, seemingly having super hearing, pausing short of his truck. The stiffness in his shoulder is familiar, or similar. So, I duck into the car with an, “I didn’t say anything.” I expect him to say something or for him to make some sort of move. I see the unamused look on his face even as I close the door behind me, creating a barrier between us. I half expect him to drag me from the car and make me answer him. Dad said I never knew how to hold my tongue or when to stop. And maybe he was right.

*****

  The Impala rolls down the road, following John’s truck. “Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten,” Dean reads from the passenger seat. “Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks. I wonder if that’s what happened to that 911 couple.”

  “I didn’t see the corpses well enough but it’s likely,” I answer, though I don’t know why John didn’t let us see the body or do any work.

  “It’s probably what Dad's thinking. ‘Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks,” Sam grumbles, a certain furrow to his brow.   “So it is starting,” Dean remarks.

  “What?”

  Well, this is my queue to keep my comments to myself and let them talk this out. 

  “Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year,” he explains. “Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?” 

  “Hm. No. Look, I'm happy he's ok, alright?” he responds. “And I'm happy that we're all working together again.” “Well good.”

  “It’s just the way he treats us like we’re children,” Sam adds, seemingly unable to help himself. But I’m here for the John bashing. 

  “Oh God,” Dean mumbles. 

  “He barks orders at us Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal.”

  Sam’s not wrong. His vagueness is one of his worst traits which is saying something because he has a long list of horrible traits. He’s really the King of being as vague and unhelpful as possible for a reason I simply can’t discern. Maybe it makes him feel like he has some power or the upper hand.

 ��“He does what he does for a reason,” Dean reasons.   “What reason?” Sam pushes.

  “Our job!” Dean snaps. “There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, alright? That's just the way the old man runs things.”   “I’d argue that leaving you guys in the dark can lead to more error,” I comment, accidentally saying my inside thoughts out loud. Luckily, I’m pretty much annoyed as Sam challenges his brother. “Yeah well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, alright. Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?” 

  A heavy silence fills the car as Dean stares at his brother like he’s trying to muster the right words. “If that’s what it takes.”

****

 We drive for what feels like an eternity, though it must only have been a couple of hours, the sky falling to darkness. Dean is on the phone with his father, keeping in touch with him even as we follow after his car. “Yeah, Dad. Alright, got it,” he answers before hanging up. “Pull off at the next exit.”

  “Why?” Sam asks with a certain edge or bite to his voice.

  “Cause Dad thinks we’ve got the vampire’s trail,” Dean responds.

  “How?” 

  “I don’t know; he didn’t say.”

  Suddenly I’m pushed back into my seat as the Impala goes faster, fast enough to overtake Johns truck. The car swerves in front of it, my body jerking sideways and forward as the vehicle swerves again and slams to a stop. My heart stammers in my chest as I look out the window, John's truck nearly missing the side of the Impala. “What the frick, S–” I yell, my cursing cut off as Sam gets out of the car. “Oh crap here we go,” Dean mumbles, following him out of the vehicle. I sigh, rolling my eyes, as much as I expected an argument to break out this is a very dramatic and dangerous way to start it. Even so, I follow them out of the Impala as Dean calls out for his brother.

  “What the hell was that?” John yells, stomping over to his son.

  “We need to talk.”

  John steps closer, getting face to face with him and I half expect him to grab Sam by the collar and shake some “sense” into him. “About what?”

  “About everything. Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?”

  “Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires,” Dean says.

  “You’re brothers right, we don’t have time for this,” John adds.   “Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue, you need our help,” Sam yells. “Now obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!”   “Get back in the car.”   “No.”   “I said get back in the damn car.”   “Yeah. And I said no.”

  “Okay, you made your point tough guy,” Dean tries again, hovering between his father and his brother. But, of course, his words are directed at his brother. “Look we're all tired, we can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come on.” Dean grabs him, pushing him back toward the car. He gives in, allowing his brother to move him along even as he glares at his father, mumbling, “This is why I left in the first place.”  “What’d you say?”

  Sam steps forward, snapping back, “You heard me.”

  “Yeah. You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam.”

  “Sam…” Dean warns.

  “You walked away!” John yells in his face.

  “Come on, stop,” I urge, trying to push John back as Dean had tried with his brother. But he just shoves me off, forcing me back a couple of steps.   “You're the one who said don't come back Dad, you closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!”

  Dean jumps in the middle, forcing them apart. “Listen, stop it, stop it. Stop it!! That's enough!!”   They don’t say another word; they just glare at each other over Dean’s head. “That means you too,” Dean adds, looking at his father. Despite the harsh words that linger in the air and the unspoken jabs that are begging to be said, they back off. Each step back into their vehicles. Dean sighs, the tension clear in his shoulders until he turns to me, brows furrowed as he half yells, “Are you okay?” The question is genuine despite how harsh they sound escaping his lips. There's a silence that falls between us; I don’t know why he asks me; it’s not like I was the one arguing. Perhaps it was because I stumbled back as his father shoved me or because he knows I do not like arguments. Either way, I nod silently, and he gives a single nod back, the stress soon returning to his face.

  With the sun on our back and the tree line at our front, blocking us, I watch a beat-up Camaro pull up the old barn. A man in a t-shirt walks up to the car, shielding his eyes as he escorts the person inside and making a very good guess it’s likely they’re both vampires. “Son of a bitch,” Dean curses. “So they’re really not afraid of the sun?”

  “Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill ‘em is by beheading,” John answers and I roll my eyes at the repetition especially when half the information is something I already said. “And yeah, they sleep during the day—doesn’t mean they won’t wake up.”

  “So I guess walking right in’s not our best option,” Dean remarks.

  “Actually, that’s the plan,” John answers, immediately creeping from the treeline back to where the Impala and his truck are parked. 

  Weapons are handed out like candy on Halloween night, the machete's blade seeming to gleam as the sun hits it just right. Grasping the hilt reminds me of that day long ago, how my hand shook as I killed the first vampire. They look human, and the blood that falls is so human that it’s like killing one instead of a vampire. I had to remind myself they weren’t human and that they killed so many. Then, it was almost too easy.

  “So, you really wanna know about this Colt?” John suddenly asks.   “Yes sir,” Sam answers.

  It's just “a story, a legend really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter,” he starts. “Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo. They say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. ‘Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it. They say... they say this gun can kill anything.”

  Something unsettling settles in my gut, something I don’t want to discern. We aren’t in the nest, and yet it’s like the fight-or-flight instinct has kicked in. “Kill anything like supernatural anything?” Dean asks. The same thought eats at my mind but where concern hits me surprise hits him.

  “Like the demon,” Sam connects, and I feel foolish. Maybe it’s a survival instinct, or maybe it’s selfishness that makes me worry more about a weapon that can kill me rather than a gun that can kill the yellow-eyed demon. I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of dying, at least not totally, especially when what I am makes it incredibly difficult to kill me, to begin with. But now I’m aware of something that can. It won’t be like a bullet wound you can maybe heal from; there won’t be hope—just death. Gone in the blink of an eye with no goodbye or warning.

  “Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun -- we may have it,” John answers.

  I want to be happy for them. I’m trying to be happy. I’m trying to push the fear away because isn’t it an irrational one? But I am scared. What if I don’t get a goodbye? What if it winds up in the wrong hands and I’m at the other end of it? Technically, right now it is in the wrong hands if the vampires do have it. “No offense, I'm glad this is an opportunity to get the damn thing,” I start, my fear turning into anger. “But did you, oh, I don't know, plan on informing us about this before we go into the place that has this gun, or was it Sam that convinced you?” I’m not an idiot; I am aware of the possibility that this could’ve been left out for God knows how long. “I mean, this could literally kill me, like end-end me, and you were just gonna, what, not mention it? ‘Cause it would’ve been a great warning.”

  He doesn’t answer, and I’m not sure if he’s going to acknowledge me, which is answer enough. I move to try to get in his way. “You know, somehow I find a new reason to dislike you, which is kind of impressive.” I know I’m being mean as if a jab could heal the panic in my veins.

  “You should be grateful I haven’t sent your ass back home,” he bites.

  “Yeah well, this ass saved your life back with the Daeva’s.”

  “Y/N,” Dean says, carefully touching my arm. But I step out of his hold, my shoulders going up as if trying to un-feel the touch, which is weird because I never do that with him. “No, Dean, this is serious,” I reason, my voice higher in an attempt to be louder, though it never nears a yell. I don’t dare look at him, weary of the hurt that might pass over his face.

  “Were you going to say something if Sam hadn’t called you out?” I ask him again. But, I’m sure I know the answer. He pauses for a beat too long, and I feel foolish again. I’m arguing with a guy who couldn’t care less about what happens to me. The anger simmers in my gut, bubbling down until it’s replaced by shame. “You know what? Never mind,” I give up. “Let’s just go kill the vampires.” I shake my head, walking away from the group towards the run-down barn. 

  I creep between the trees, careful of where I step so that I don’t make a sound, even though I’m outside the barn. I take a couple of deep breaths as I walk; I need to have a clear head. This isn’t the kind of hunt you can be careless on; one wrong move and it all goes up in flames. I clear my head of any leftover anger or negative emotions; I need to lead with focus, not emotions. 

  I move closer to the barn, finding a window that looks easy to get into without making so much noise. That is key. I lift myself onto the thin windowsill, cautious as to not let my legs or any body part slam into the wall. And with the knowledge that the boys are close behind, I move into the barn. I move silently, first observing the layout and the countless hammocks filled with vampires as well as the occasional vamp that rests on the floor. 

  Ever so slowly, I move forward, careful to step over the beer bottles as I move as quietly as a mouse. Inch by inch, I lurk towards a random vampire in a hammock. A lone vampire, or at least one that’s farthest away from the others, even if far isn’t far at all.

  I stand over his sleeping figure like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. Ever so carefully, I lift my blade, hovering it above its neck. With one quick motion, I know I am a hypocrite. Blood drips down its neck in waves like a relentless ocean; its eyes shoot open as the blade is plunged deeper. Its mouth parts in an attempt at a screech it can’t possibly make as its head is severed from its body. It did not get to warn the others. It did not get to say goodbye.

  I pull my blade from the mess; blood seeps into the fabric of the hammock and drips to the floor. I sense the Winchesters enter the barn as I pick my next target. The goal is to get as many asleep so that should they wake, it’d be a slightly easier fight. Again, I take my stance over a vampire when I hear the faint clink of a glass bottle knocking over. I hold incredibly still, so still, I feel like the narrator in “Tell-Tale Heart.”

  By luck alone, the vampire beneath my gaze does not stir, nor do any others. I turn my head slowly to where the noise originated, seeing Dean and Sam at the other end of the barn near each other. I swallow roughly, focusing in on the task at hand. Again, I drive my blade into the pale neck of the resting creature, blood spraying onto my cheek. I move to the next, stalking forth with my raised blade when an unearthly roar breaks the silence. The vampire beneath my gaze shoots up, clutching my wrist before I can lay the blade onto it. The machete vanishes from my hand, appearing in my other. I swing the blade; the cut is uncoordinated and messy in my non-dominant hand, slashing off its hand. My wrist is free as the limb goes flying, a horrible screech coming from the vampire as it clutches its wrist, blood spurting from where the hand used to be, bone exposed to the air. Glass shatters somewhere overhead, and I switch the weapon back to my dominant hand, unable to get another swing in when I dodge the lunging vampire.

  “Run!” John yells from the same direction as the broken glass. I sidestep just in time, narrowly avoiding a swing from a vampire lunging at me. More of them surge toward me, their snarls filling the air. Reluctantly, I turn and run. My heart pounds in my chest, the sound almost drowning out the thudding of their footsteps behind me. I race toward the back of the barn, but there’s no clear exit—just solid walls and shadows. I sprint toward one of the walls. My legs push forward harder, willing myself to pass through before I crash into it. 

  The world blurs for a heartbeat, and then I stumble forward, my feet skidding on the dirt outside. I glance back, breathless, at the wall I just passed through. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips, I’m getting really good at the whole teleporting thing. But enough celebrating, I quickly round the outskirts of the barn and make my way up the hill to where the distinct figures of the Winchesters wait. A look of relief passes over Sam and Deans face at the sight of me but I can’t say the same for John. I know he doesn’t care if I get injured or die. 

  “They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life,” John informs, slightly out of breath.   “Well, what the hell do we do now?” Dean asks.

  I wipe the blood from my cheek with the back of my sleeve, glad that I decided to wear dark clothes today. “I’ll go back in there and finish it,” I answer.

  “No, you’re not,” Dean declares, taking a single step toward me.

  “Why not?” I ask. “I already killed two and—”

  “You did?” John cuts me off, reflecting the same surprise he did before.

  “No, my machete is just normally covered in blood.” 

  “You’re not goin’ back in,” Dean says firmly.

  “Dean—”

  “Not on my watch.”   “Oh, come on. This is quicker than waiting until night and you can have your special gun sooner,” I reason, following him as he walks away. 

  “Not happening.”

  “Don’t you want that gun?”

  He stops short of the Impala's trunk, his expression firm as he faces me. “Not at the expense of your life.” His eyes are set on mine, a challenge burning behind his irises.

  “I’m very capable of doing it myself,” I argue, my chin raised to meet his gaze head-on.

  “I know you are,” he replies, his voice low and sure. “‘Doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ you go.”

  “I don’t have to listen to you, you know,” I point out, the words sounding childish on my tongue.   His brow arches, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his face. He wets his lips, voice dropping lower, “I don’t see you goin’.”

  The words hang heavy between us. He’s got me, and he knows it. I swallow hard, my pulse thrumming in my throat. His eyes drop briefly, flicking to the small space between us like he’s daring me to move. He tilts his head slightly, waiting, his confidence annoyingly attractive. His fingers brush my wrist, featherlight, trailing down the inside. It tickles my skin, my breath hitching slightly, loosening my hold on the machete. He doesn’t rush—his hand glides lower, steady, until he slides the weapon from my grasp as if he already knew my answer before I had the chance to utter it.

 “We’ll need dead man’s blood,” I manage, my voice quieter than I intended. His eyes flick back to mine, dark and unreadable, the weapon now clasped firmly in his hand alongside his own. He nods, his lips parted slightly.

****

  After splitting up from John and Sam—and some lying and distracting on our part— Dean and I managed to grab the dead man's blood from the local funeral home. Afterward, it took some extensive convincing, including arguing that it would be safer for me to act as bait instead of Dean to be where I am now.

  Now, I lean over the car’s popped hood, peering at the engine while the Winchesters watch from somewhere in the trees. “Car trouble?” a woman's voice asks. I turn around to see a dark-haired woman with thin eyebrows and striking blue eyes standing with another girl lingering behind. It didn’t take them long to show up. “Let me give you a lift. I’ll take you back to my place,” she purrs.

  I lean against the front of the Impala, tilting my head slightly as I eye her. “I’m sure you’d like that,” I respond, biting my bottom lip, purposefully teasing. She steps closer as expected, so close I can smell the lingering metallic scent of blood on her mouth as well as her strong perfume. She grabs my jaw roughly, her fingertips digging in as she holds my face firmly, forcing my head back an inch so that she can use our small height difference to her advantage. I let her do what she wants, I’m not afraid of her or the other vampire. I’m just here to get her close enough for a good shot. “Would you like that?” she asks, spinning my question.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not Buffy and you’re not Spike,” I smile teasingly. 

  Her smile deepens, turning a little wicked. “You know, I should kill you for what you did to them.” 

  And I know she’s talking about the two I killed and the third I hurt. “Will you?” I challenge. I’m sure she won’t, at least not now. They like to play with their food. So, just as expected her eyes trace down my face, the collum of my neck, and dip beneath my shirt. “We could have some fun first,” she answers, eyes tracing back up.

  Her head tilts down, her hold on my face tightening as her lips brush mine. Her hand slips to the back of my head, grabbing a handful of hair and tugging. My lips part in a groan, my head harshly bent back, giving her the chance to crash her lips to mine. She kisses me roughly and fast, all teeth and tongue before pulling away and licking her lips as if savoring the taste. “Heard you had a boyfriend,” I remark. “You think he’d mind you–” She cuts me off with her lips, teeth clashing with mine. My hands grasp the Impala behind me, the cold metal digging into my palms contrasting with the heat of her mouth. 

  She gasps, an almost choking noise as she pulls away and I know the shot has been taken. My eyes fall to her chest, the arrowhead sticking out. “Dammit,” she curses. The Winchesters emerge from the trees, crossbows in hand and unreadable expressions on their faces. Her hands fall from my face as she steps back, my chest heaving a little as I try to catch my breath. “It barely even stings,” she claims.

  “Give it time, sweetheart,” John answers. “That arrow’s soaked in dead man’s blood. It’s like poison to you, isn’t it?”

  Real surprise passes over her features, a hand coming up to cradle where she’s been hit as she staggers backward, wavering before she collapses to the asphalt. “Load her up,” John directs, moving to the other vampire who’s also on the floor with an arrow through her. “I’ll take care of this one.”

  I turn around, shutting the hood of the car just as I hear the familiar squelch of blood.

****

  The campfire burns bright in the middle of the small clearing of woods. She's still unconscious, secured with a rope around her that she could tear easily the moment she awakens. “Toss this on the fire. Saffron, skunk's cabbage, and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready,” John orders as he walks back into the clearing with his eldest son in tow.

  Dean sniffs the bag contents and coughs, “Stuff stinks!”

  “That’s the point. It has to be strong enough to cover your scent,” I smile while simultaneously feeling bad for finding his reaction to the ingredients funny. “You can dust your clothes with the ashes and they, hopefully, won't be able to detect you.” I move to him, willing to take the bag from his grimacing face. 

  “‘You sure they’ll come after ‘er?” Sam asks as I carefully separate and dump the ingredients into the fire.

  “Yeah,” John answers. “Vampires mate for life—”

  “Didn’t seem she cared about that with Y/N” Dean remarks, cutting off his father. I give him a pointed look. And he just responds with, “What? She was the one who looked real into you.” There's a certain edge to his voice that I can’t quite discern, something almost snarky.

  “Well, one thing interpretations got right about vampires is how inherently sexual they are,” I explain. “I’m not sure why but I guess it makes sense considering how they take the blood is intimate.” Still, Dean doesn’t seem particularly satisfied with that answer.

  “She means more to the leader than the gun,” John continues. “But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time.”   “A half-hour oughta do it,” Sam answers.   “And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can,” John orders.

  “But…”

  “Well, Dad you can’t take care of them all yourself,” Dean cuts his brother off.

  “I'll have her and the Colt,” John reasons.

  “That’s hardly a lot of protection,” I point out.

  “And if I remember you wanted to go in with less,” he bites back.

  “I also have abilities that you don’t. I can stay with you, ‘make sure you get it safely.”

  “‘Don’t need your protection,” he answers. I figure ego has some part of his decision so I drop it, if he doesn’t want backup then he doesn’t want it.

  “But after. We're gonna meet up, right?” Sam asks. “Use the gun together. Right?” There's a long pause, the question hanging in the air for one too many seconds. “You're leaving again, aren't you? You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like children,” Sam answers firmly.   “You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe,” he reasons. I bite back my comment about how ironic that is coming from him as I walk a couple of steps away.   “Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap,” Dean says, all heads snapping to him.   “Excuse me?”

  I half expect him to back off, instead, he doubles down. “You know what Sammy and I have been hunting. Hell you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe.”   “It's not the same thing, Dean.”   “Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?”   “This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive.”   “You mean you can't be as reckless.”

  “Look... I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece.” The atmosphere seems to change, becoming a little heavier in the wake of his words. “Your mother's death ... it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too. I won't.”

  I’m sure there is some truth to his words but at the same time, he's been a horrible father to them, leaving them alone as mere kids to fend for themselves, forcing them into the hunting world at a young age, and even bringing them on hunts when they should’ve been worrying about school not their lives.   “What happens if you die?” Dean points out. “Dad, what happens if you die, and we coulda done something about it? You know I’ve been thinking. I ...think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together.”

  Sam nods.

  “We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it,” Dean argues. It may sound cheesy but it holds merit.  “We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order.” His answer is unsurprising and yet the way Dean looks down and the way Sam clenches his jaw makes me want to deck John Winchester until he agrees.

****

  We quickly follow after John, having already killed the vampires in the barn and freed the container of people they had. Of course, it’s against what we were directed to do but we aren’t exactly known for following rules, so there's that. We ditched the Impala some ways back, sticking to the trees with our crossbows as we approached John's truck and the group of vampires.

  We arrive in time to see John get knocked to the ground, his plan going south immediately. He’s backhanded into the door of his truck just as one of many arrows flies through the air, hitting the other vampires that crowd around. We emerge from the trees and I switch my crossbow to my off-hand to unseathe my machete. I easily walk up to one and in one clean motion send their head flying, the body buckling to the floor.

  Quickly I turn, my crossbow raised to shoot a vampire that was creeping up on Dean. “Don't!” someone yells. I pause, eyes landing on a vampire who looks like a rock band reject with his arm around Sam’s neck while Dean tries to lurk forward with a machete. “I'll break his neck. Put the blade down,” the man orders. Everything stands still for a moment as I drop both my weapons. Dean, however, pauses until the man tightens his hold on Sam’s neck and then the machete is dropped to the ground with a clink.

  Suddenly, the man’s arm is forced from Sam’s neck. It shakes as it's pulled away by an invisible force, his face contorting with confusion as he loses the ability to control his limbs. My head tilts slightly as I control him, forcing his other arm to remain at its side so that Sam is free to stumble away, his brother immediately dragging him behind him. The knees of the man buckle, forcing him to kneel on the asphalt. “You people. Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do,” the man cries and I falter. 

I falter. The one thing you’re never supposed to do in a fight. But, it doesn’t matter because his head is cleaned off his body before he can get up. John standing behind him, blood dripping from his machete. “Lutherrrr!!!!” the girl from before screams a horrible guttural scream that seems to reverberate in my ears. She’s dragged away by another vampire, fighting against their hold as she stares down John and her lover's body.

  I stand over the little table in the motel room making sure I didn’t leave anything when John enters—the first we’ve seen him since last night. “So boys,” he starts immediately, the door closing behind him feeling like a death sentence.

  “Yes sir,” Sam answers, both boys straightening out like soldiers.

  “You ignored a direct order back there,” he starts.

  “Yes sir,” Sam answers.   “Yeah, but we saved your ass,” Dean intervenes, nervous looks thrown his way from Sam and I.

  “You're right,” John, surprisingly, nods.   “I am?”

  “It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing. Together.”   “Yes sir,” they say in unison.

  “And I guess you can be there too,” he adds, looking over at me.

(Next Chapter)

Tag List: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44 @bonkydarnes @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara @mxltifxndom @stilesxreid @chaotic-luvrs @tiggytaylor @deanwasscaredbyacat @imaginexred @daisychaingirl @ugvvguggvvgu @yasmin12312 @squishytap

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Late Night With You

Prompt #2: Ending a phone call with an accidental “love you”

Idia x gn!reader

Read on AO3

Your eyes glide to the clock at the corner of the screen. You watch as the seconds literally tick by and bite back a sigh once you realize how late it's gotten. If the darkness enveloping your room and the main source of light coming from your computer wasn't obvious that it was well past your bedtime.

"It's getting late," you say. It is late, you mentally correct yourself.

"And?" Comes a voice from your headphones. You roll your eyes at his response. "It's not like we're doing anything tomorrow."

"You're not. I am." You fiddle with your mic that's connected to your headset. "Unless if you want to show up to class with me?"

You hear something akin to a huff and can practically feel his eye roll.

"Hard pass. These drop rates are harder than pulling for a limited edition SSR character and we're only given a week to grind for them? An event like this won't get a rerun for at least a year or two. It's now or never."

You shake your head and let out a yawn. Leave it to Idia to find importance in an online game. You don't doubt that he's right, but you're not a hardcore gamer like him. Life calls whether you want it to or not and you have to answer it.

"You make a convincing argument. Think you can get enough for me too?"

"Do you know who you're talking to? When I'm done we'll have enough materials to make a second set of weapons for display," he says with a chuckle.

A smile inches on your face at the sound. A shame that you can't hear it in person. It sounds better compared to the slightly muffled version in your ears.

"Thanks. We still on for Saturday? That's when the drop rates increase, right?"

"Yeah. I'll send you better armor so we can one-shot those raids too."

"Cool." You feel another yawn coming your way and barely manage to hold it back. You rub your eyes and feel a little guilty for not holding much of a conversation. To be fair though, keeping your eyes open isn't easy even with the blaring light of a laptop shining on your face. "Okay, I can't be up much longer. You should be heading to bed soon even if you're not going to show up for class."

"Eh? No way. I can do this all night!"

"I'll message Ortho," you threaten with a grin. Idia falls silent and you can imagine him glancing back to look at his brother. The image makes you chuckle. It wouldn't be the first time you'd manage to get Ortho to get Idia to bed. "Kidding. Anyway, see you later, Idia. Love you."

You pull off your headset and place it on your desk. You log off your account and then the laptop's screen fades to black. A whine escapes you as you're forced to adjust to the sudden darkness.

You stretch your limbs as you stand from your chair. Carefully, you navigate the walk from desk to bed. It's a short path but you don't know what lies hiding in the dark. Thankfully, your mission is successful and you land in bed with a thud.

Grim rolls around beside you, muttering something in his sleep. The monster doesn't wake, surprisingly, and you take a moment to run a hand through his fur. He purrs, getting cozy underneath your touch, and nestles closer to you. Then he mumbles something about tuna.

"Sweet dreams..." You breathe out. With one last yawn, you shut your eyes.

Only to have them shoot open as your body jerks itself upward.

"Oh my god..." You gasp, a hand flying to your mouth. You can feel your cheeks burning, your heart racing a mile a minute.

Did you...Did you really just tell Idia you love him?

You totally did not just do that.

Idia is frozen in his chair with wide eyes. He feels like a cat that's just been spooked as he repeats your goodbye over and over in his mind. Those two little words you uttered could easily OHKO him. And if you were right in front of him, he really would have died on the spot.

Idia pulls his hands off his keyboard to cover his face. His room is enveloped in a soft blue glow that stems from his hair. Now it begins to flash a light pink. His cheeks began to match the new color surrounding him.

"Th-They didn't mean to say that..." He tells himself. "I-It's late and they're just tired. Yeah. Th-That's it. N-No way they'd tell me that. Besides that's not a way they would confess..."

Not that he's thought about you confessing to him. Well, he has. A bit. Okay, more than he's ever willing to admit. And he's not going to go off about how he imagines it happening underneath a cherry blossom tree after school with flowers sparkling around your image.

"They're right, i-it's getting late..." Idia tries to calm his nerves while logging out of his game. His fingers are set on autopilot as your voice echoes in his head.

Even as he finds himself in bed, curling underneath the covers, he can't fall asleep. You are on his mind now more than ever. His heart bounces around his chest, making him feel giddy while his mind fights against it, scolding it and being realistic about your words being a tired mistake.

Regardless of which one wins, he's definitely not going out tomorrow.

Oh. That brings up another problem. Instead of looking forward to playing with you, now he's dreading it.

What the hell is going to happen on Saturday?!

[the-dork-urge]

First Kiss - Detroit Becoming Human P1

I'm like 6 years late to the party but that's alright Gavin Reed

The police precinct was nearly silent. The usual hum of phones and distant chatter had faded, and now only the clatter of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper echoed in the otherwise empty room. You glanced at the clock: 11:45 PM.. You had already finished your paperwork, and your bag was packed, but there was something that kept you from leaving.It was him.

Gavin Reed was hunched over his desk, scribbling something on a report, his brow furrowed in concentration. The harsh fluorescent lights above cast shadows across his face, making his usual scowl even sharper. You knew he wasn’t here because he wanted to—no, it was disciplinary work from the higher-ups. The latest round of paperwork, because of some screw-up he’d made.

You’d seen him like this before—rare moments when the tough cop façade cracked and all that was left was the man behind it, dealing with whatever shit he didn’t want to talk about.

"You really dont have to help me, you should pack it" he growled, biting on the end of his pen, staring at the screen before him. You paused for a moment, considering his words. You could tell he was exhausted, but he wouldn’t admit it, not to anyone. Not even to you.

You shrugged, playing it cool, even though you were well aware that he hated anyone seeing him like this, especially you. "I know," you said with a small smile, scooting your chair closer to his desk. "But I want to.'' ''Yeah, well, don’t blame me when you’re stuck here ‘til dawn," he shot back, though there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes.You knew better than to take him too seriously when he was like this. You simply slid into the chair next to him, grabbing a random stack of papers from the desk, and quietly set to work. The silence between you both stretched on as you worked, the low hum of the precinct your only company. Every now and then, you glanced up, watching Gavin as he focused on his screen. His brows were still furrowed in concentration, the usual tension in his shoulders as he worked through the mountain of paperwork. You couldn’t help but notice the way he chewed on the end of his pen, twisting it in his fingers, back and forth, like he was trying to work out a problem that wasn’t on the page.

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked at him.

You leaned back in your chair, try to focus on your own pile, the sound of you pen clicking against the table as you absentmindedly fiddled with it. The rhythmic sound seemed to fill the space between you, a constant companion to the otherwise quiet night.

Then, without warning, Gavin turned around, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Stop," he said, his voice rough but low, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

You blinked, pausing mid-click. "What?"

"The pen. Stop playing with it," he grumbled, shooting you a glare. "It’s annoying."

You raised an eyebrow, setting the pen down slowly. "Really? You’re gonna tell me to stop?"He didn’t answer, just gave you a look that made it clear he wasn’t messing around. But you weren’t backing down so easily.

"Well, you’ve been chewing on your pen for the last half an hour," you shot back with a smirk. "So if we’re comparing levels of annoying, you’re definitely winning, Reed."

He rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with your logic. "It’s a habit," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can’t help it."

You leaned back in your chair, resting your arms on the desk. "Oh, I get it," you teased. "So, chewing on your pen is okay, but me clicking my pen is somehow an offense?"

He shot you a look, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. "You’re impossible," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, well," you shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. "At least I’m not munching on office supplies."

The corners of Gavin’s mouth twitched, fighting a smile. You knew he wasn’t really mad—not with you. The banter had a way of making the night feel a little less heavy, a little more bearable.

"You’re lucky I like you," he muttered, turning back to his desk, a barely noticeable smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Otherwise, I’d have tossed you out of here by now."

"Sure," you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You’d let anyone in here just to help you get through the mess you got yourself into. Maybe even Hank."

He rolled his eyes at your jab, and you both knew it wasn’t true. Out of everyone in the precinct, you were the only one who’d actually stick around to help him.

"Fuck you," he grumbled, hiding a smirk as he returned to his paperwork, the pen back between his lips.

You couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto your face. He looked kind of handsome like that, even with the pen in his mouth. You quickly caught yourself and cleared your throat.

"How about some coffee, huh?" you offered, hoping to change the subject.

He didn’t look up from his screen but gave a small nod. "Yeah, that’d be good."

As you stood by the coffee machine, waiting for the drip to finish, exhaustion settled in. It had been a long day, and the silence in the precinct made everything feel even heavier. The steady drip of the coffee felt almost meditative, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, leaning your palms against the counter.

Your mind wandered back to Gavin, as it often did when you were alone with your thoughts. You couldn't help but wonder if it was obvious that you kind of liked him. And the truth was, you didn’t know if he felt the same way. He was always rough around the edges, sarcastic, and often a little too gruff, but there was a certain patience he showed you, a subtle kindness that made you feel like maybe he cared, even if he didn't say it outright.

In fact, there were moments—like when he'd bring you coffee without you asking, how he'd ask about your weekend and really seemed to listem, or the times his hand would linger on your shoulder as he passed by—that made your heart flutter. You'd caught him staring a few times, but he’d always quickly look away, as if he wasn’t sure what he was feeling either.

You couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he thought about you the way you were thinking of him now. But then, you shook your head slightly, trying to push the thoughts aside. After all, you didn’t even know what this was. You were just two tired cops in the middle of a long night, and maybe it was better to leave it at that.The sound of the coffee machine finishing its work broke your train of thought.

As you turned around to grab the mugs, you nearly jumped. Gavin had somehow silently made his way into the kitchen, standing just a few feet away, looking as if he'd appeared out of nowhere. ''Need something else.'' you asked, moving right by him to grab what you needed.

''Yeah," he said softly, and before you could react, you felt his hand gently wrap around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

You tried not to focus on the way his hand felt against your skin, but the pulse racing through you made it impossible not to. "Thanks for staying," he said, the words hanging between you two in the small kitchen. y

You could feel his fingers slightly tighten around your wrist as if he was nervous about what he’d just said, but you weren’t sure. "I should’ve just said that right away... instead of being an asshole."

You looked at him, a genuine smile tugging at your lips now, the kind that felt different from the usual teasing.

"I know that, Gavin," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "You don't need to say anything."His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but his hand didn’t let go just yet. He blinked, as if unsure of how to respond, then his voice softened.

"No, but sometimes I should," he muttered.

It was then that he seemed to realize his hand was still on your wrist. He quickly let go, a bit too hastily, and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, his usual confidence slipping just for a moment.

"It's... it's good to say it, actually," he added, looking down at his shoes as if trying to avoid eye contact.

You couldn’t help but smike softly at how flustered he looked. Gavin Reed, tough cop, lost in front of you.

You lingered there for a moment, eyes still on him, your eyes now on the hand that had reached out to you. It had felt good, his fingers on your skin. The sound of the coffee machine’s little alarm started to blare again, its sharp beep pulling you back to reality. It was a reminder of the task you had come in for, but something—or rather, someone—had you rooted to the spot.

You weren’t quite ready to move away just yet. You glanced at Gavin, who seemed just as stuck as you,

You heard Gavin take a deep breath, and before you could even process it, he stepped forward. One of his hands reached up, tentative at first, then gently placed itself on your cheek. His fingers were warm, and he lingered there, just enough to check if you were okay with it, as if giving you the space to pull away if you wanted.

For a moment, everything stood still. Your breath hitched as you leaned in slightly, your gaze locked on his. You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, the tension that had built in the few seconds it took him to reach out, and then you heard him breathe out a quiet sigh of relief.

You moved forward, just as he did, closing the distance between you two. Your lips met in the middle, softly at first, a delicate graze that sent a spark of warmth through you both. You felt his breath against your skin. As you deepened the kiss, your hand instinctively moved up to his cheek, your fingers brushing against the roughness of his stubble. His jaw shifted under your touch, a soft rumble of breath escaping him. You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat pick up.

His hand, still resting on your cheek, gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing along the curve of your jaw. His other hand, which had been hovering uncertainly, now reached around to your back.

You responded instinctively, your body pressing against his, feeling the warmth of him seep through your clothes. The softness of the kiss slowly deepened as he tilted his head, his fingers now brushing through your hair.

Pulling back slightly, you both took a breath, your foreheads resting against each other, your breath mingling. Gavin’s eyes were soft, searching yours.

He broke the silence first, his voice low. “Didn’t think we’d be here tonight.”

You smiled softly, your hand still resting on his chest. “Me neither

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Silly and self Indulgent scenario that's been living in my head since I've started learning coding like javascript and html awhile ago, like pls let Idia teach me, I'll listen to everything he has say. Or not. Probably not. I would probably be looking at him all the time like 👀💞.

Coming from someone as quiet as Idia, people would think that he only hides inside his room and that only silence surrounds him. But that was far from true, Idia laughed, screamed or hummed all the time when he was safe and sound inside those comforting walls and, like now, his fingers tapped the keyboard keys frantically.

"What's that supposed to be?" You asked, pointing to a series of strange codes on Idia's dimly lit computer screen. How he could see with all the lights off, you didn't know. But at least, you now knew why he complained about his eyes hurting.

Idia replied without turning around, "They're called arrays. They're used to store more than one code inside a variable, Yuu-shi."

You made an understanding sound even though you didn't understand what that meant. You remembered a thing or two about your world's programming, but the memories were blurred and as today was an especially calm day, you decided to pull a chair close to his desk and sit next to Idia to watch him work. Maybe it would help to understand what those "arrays" were for if you could watch him, besides it was fun.

You noticed how his fingers trembled slightly against the keyboard and the ends of his hair turned pink at your sudden approach, but you preferred to spare him the embarrassment and just watch him create his codes. It was almost peaceful the sound of his fingers and his soft humming.

"That's an opening tag right there, right?" You pointed again not sure and he nodded.

"Yuu-shi..." He mumbled as if unsure of his proposal. Even though you're friends, he's too scared to voice his ideas sometimes and you don't force him to say anything while you wait for him to search for the right words. Finally after a few seconds Idia turns to you with a small smile on his face. "S-sit closer, you'll be able to see better that way. I can even explain what each code is for if that doesn't bore you."

That was his shy way of saying that he would like to have you around and that he didn't mind your questions, and you readily nodded, pulling the chair closer and resting your face in your hand. Idia kept working, fingers practicing typing over and over entire columns of tags and other codes that you gradually remembered the name.

"Yuu-shi, you never told me that you, uh, liked programming." He mutters uncertainly. But then a wide smile spreads across his lips and he looks at you sideways, laughing sinisterly. "But that means I can teach you everything I know, and after I've stuffed all possible coding knowledge into your little pretty head, Yuu-shi, you will evolve from an R card to a UR+."

You shudder comically, wondering if it was too late to run. But Idia's cool hand closes over your wrist and his slender fingers find their way to yours, lacing them together as he opens another page on his computer.

"Let's start with your lesson, Yuu-shi, and... And, uh... And if you get everything right, I have a reward in mind." Idia declares, a rosy blush taking over his face.

And truly how couldn't you deny him that?

[skyburger]

splatoon 4 wishlist

at least one of the idols is purple. bonus points for one purple and one orange. (i think this is fairly likely because theyre the only colors out of primary/secondary weve never had chars of)

shiver and frye learn to play drums and guitar after they couldnt in that one splatfest. please big man can play keyboard iwant them to play instrument toooo :( i am biased though i play drums and i love when chars i like play drums heehee

splashtags come back and this time there is a little buddy / smallfry badge you can put on your splashtag Pleaseeeee please please. my son

would liek more yoko (of ink theory & the gold bazookas) music it would be cool if she appeared in game also. and/or tao-blu theyre also pretty cool

smallfry / little buddy return and you can find it chilling in random spots around the plaza this is my favorite thing to do is to go look for my son. i think ive spent more time doing this than ive played some of the ranked modes, like, ever

i saw rhis in a post i reboggled earlier from a splat confessions blog but a four-idol group and the splatfest teams are 2v2 but the pairs change every time i think would be very cool

more crate art matching levels in singleplayer these are my fave in octo expansion / alterna... im sad theres literally three (3) overall :(

im putting little buddy return on here twice i want my son to come back really really really bad

i know if we get new idols every game theres no way we can fit every prev character into new entries but i would like to see deep cut come baxk i like tjem a lot. i hope shiver and frye have crazy new outfits and big man just gets a new hat

mario items in-game because ill be so real one of my biggest wants for a splatoon item is just mario and luigi hats in-game. please nintendo you have the rights to those characters please

little buddy return goes on here a third time thats my favorite character and im not kidding

ok im out of ideas thats all 4 now

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

since i’d already played the original trilogy approximately seven million times in french, i finally got round to playing french apollo justice instead. just finished it and hoooo boy was this localisation just as interesting

just like in the og trilogy, the entire thing now takes place in france (presumably paris, though they didn’t specify in this one). at least there aren’t earthquakes this time so it doesn’t feel quite as surreal.

apollo’s “i’m fine!” catchphrase is now “tout va bien !” which means “everything’s fine!”

some of the names have been translated again. for example, trucy is now called “Vérité” which not only is the french form of the english name “Verity”, but it also is the literal french word for “truth”, which gives some dialogues a double meaning whenever they’re discussing the truth. “Vous dites... la vérité... Apollo Justice... ?”

they did not change lamiroir’s name. they did however change machi tobaye to “Tomas Kashkash”, make of that what you will

in the first case, phoenix and kristoph use formal pronouns when addressing each other in court, and informal pronouns outside of court, which is fun. by the final case they’re exclusively using formal pronouns since their friendship has pretty much ended. (it’s a similar case with klavier and daryan, who switch to formal pronouns when they’re trying to be serious/professional and when their friendship starts to splinter.) (apollo and trucy use informal pronouns on each other pretty much the whole way through.)

trucy says “Mééééééé !” a lot

she also calls apollo “Pollo”

wocky kitaki (”Willy” in french) is my fricking favourite oh my god. he speaks in such verlan-ified slang i had to painstakingly decipher every single thing he said. i love him. when he said “sakom” i felt that 😔✊ he’s nigh-incomprehensible just like he was in the english version. absolute king.

in order to make wocky so iconic they apparently had to sacrifice klavier though, because in this version he is english. ENGLISH. AS IN, FROM ENGLAND. usually the french localisation takes its cues from the english version so i thought they’d keep him german, and then when he started calling people “miss” instead of “Fräulein” i thought maybe they’d made him american, like he was in the original japanese version, but NO IT TURNS OUT HE’S JUST ENGLISH??? LIKE FROM ENGLAND????? U WOT M8 JOLLY GOOD OLD CHAP CHEWSDAY INNIT????? I’M FROM ENGLAND, THIS IS THROWING ME OFF TOO MUCH

and they didn’t even commit to the englishification!! he barely says any english stuff at all! he sometimes says “miss” or “mister” and that’s... about it? he doesn’t even have any “Achtung, baby!” equivalent!! he calls apollo “M. Grand Front” which yeah means basically the same thing as herr forehead but it’s entirely in french so what’s the point?? god if you were gonna curse him by making him from freaking england then at least go all the way?? at least his “Objection !” sounds cool i guess...

and his name is “Konrad” in this version. that’s fine because “clavier” means “keyboard” in french (like the thing you type on) so i get that it would have sounded silly. but imo they should have gone in the opposite direction and picked a random english word to name him then. they should have named him Stapler or something. why’d they give him a normal name. he is Stapler Gavin in my heart

ema calls him “minet pailleté” btw which yeah pretty much just means glimmerous fop. (she studied in england too in this version WHY THE FRICK IS EVERYONE ENGLISH)

there were some fun french puns, such as calling phoenix apollo’s “mentor” (french for “mentor”, if you couldn’t guess) and then calling him “menteur” which means liar and sounds very similar

“I killed a man named “Smith” with a bottle because I am an evil human being.”

[ralibo14]

Little late, but... Happy birthday Yuugo! 💗🥳

Just a little something, I wrote. I know I'm a few days late but I hope it's readable 💗. Enjoy. (If not interested in the one shot or you have no time for it, it's okay🥰. Art is here, you can skip the rest of the post, no hard feelings 🥰😁)

Short stories from the

Demon World:

Ever wondered what happened on the other side of the world, while you were living your casual life? Then one day the news was full of strange kids appearing all over the world. You think you know the full story, but you don't.

“I was forced to write this!”

At least that's what I would like to say. It would be a lie though. I want to… no… I have to write this, so everyone will know him, so no one will ever forget about him.

Even when remembering hurts, even when I'm bad at writing and even worse with typing words into a laptop keyboard. This feels hella weird and not grand enough for a person like he was. He deserved to be here and tell this tale himself. Now you are stuck with my shitty writing, which is relying on other people's memories and the tales from an old traveling journal. So enjoy… I guess– Ray.

Christmas with Them.

(24th December 2040, B06-32 Shelter)

Yuugo's Pov:

Being alone for years can really scramble your eggs. What? You don't believe me? I've been alone in this bloody shelter since 2032. And my brain makes me remember all the meaningless memories that only bring more misery in this already lonely solitude. This is the eighth Christmas I have to spend completely alone and I can't do anything about it. I think I will just lay on my bed and wait for the painful nostalgia to pass by. Ya know… the more I think about it the more clear it is.

There are a few days in the year where being born can backfire you later in life. For example if you were born on the same day as one of your relatives, you can forget about getting all the attention. Or if you were born in the summer… Well sorry to tell you, but all of your friends are already on vacation somewhere far away. New Year's Eve? Everyone is either already asleep or drunk themselves under the bench. Sorry. Valentine's Day? Ugh! I don't even want to think about it. All that lovey-dovey crap… makes me sick. Halloween or the Day of the Dead? I'm sure you are always THRILLED to celebrate your birthday. But even that can't compete against the worst birthday of all time…

Which birthday is the worst then? I tell you… mine. I was born on the night of December 24th. Yep. You're reading that right. I'm not fucking with you, that's my actual birthday, talk about bad luck, huh?

“But hey, doesn't that mean you get double presents?” you might ask which to, I would say: ‘Bullshit’!

Or maybe you guys are right. Maybe in the Human World it works like that but on this side of the world it's nothing like that. I mean in Glory Bell, in the House it wasn't so bad because Christmas wasn't about presents there. Of course everyone got something small from our caretaker and she always remembered that it's also my birthday. So I got a bigger present each Christmas than the others and that made most of the kids jealous in the House. Funny, I almost forgot, but that's how Lucas, Dina and I actually became close friends. We were friends before but it was mostly because we grew up together. Our trio’s friendship had its highs and lows, but hey which friendship hasn't?

I remember a particular low pretty clearly. Lucas, that kind hearted idiot, from all people got jealous on one Christmas, it was my eighth or ninth birthday and I got a cool model airplane. Ya know, the one with the double wings and turnable propellers. He simply pulled the box out of my hands, locked himself into the House’s library and refused to give it back. It needed our beloved Teacher and Dina’s combined effort to convince him to give my gift back. Later our caretaker sat down with him and told him that he shouldn't be jealous, since everyone gets birthday presents and mine just happened to be on the same day as Christmas.

That of course didn't change the fact that when Lucas first came to me to apologise I didn't even listen to him. I simply stood up and walked out of the room. Later he tried again, I gave him an ‘Get lost!’ look and shoved him in the shoulder as I walked past him. That rust haired idiot thought it was an invitation to try again or maybe he thought that ‘Third times the charm’ and approached me again at night when me and Dina sat in the dining room trying to build my present. I still remember that conversation as clear as day and oh boy. I would smack my young self on the back of his neck for being a smartass little rascal.

_____________________________________

(24th of December 2025, Glory Bell; Plantation 4)

“You're doing it wrong Yuugo. If you have to force it then it doesn't belong there” Dina sighed, gently scolding me.

“The manual says it goes there so…grr the hell!? Why doesn't it work? Piece of shit!” I muttered under my breath.

“Language!” my friend shot a glare at me. “You know that Miss Ruelle doesn't like when we talk like that”

“She is with the little ones outside and they are snowball fighting. I doubt she will hear me from there” I rolled my eyes, shoving away the half done model airplane “I gave up! It's impossible to build! Must be broken or something”

“Don't you think you gave up a bit too fast Yuugo?” Dina chuckled while inspecting the toy. “You're almost done, just a few more piece…

“Why do I need to build it?! Why couldn't our Teacher give me an already built one?”

“I think it's like those tests she gives us. Where we… have to work in teams to solve a problem” someone said from the door.

I know the voice and at the moment I didn't want to talk with him.

“Get lost! No one asked for your opinion”

“Don’t be mean” Dina whispered to me “Oh, hey Lucas! Come sit with us” she waved at him with a smile.

“Oh nyenyenye come Lucas sit with us. You're such a traitor” I whispered, mocking the blonde haired girl next to me who shoved her elbow between my ribs under the table. Needless to say, that made me shut up pretty quickly.

“Are you guys still building the airplane?”

“Yeah, but we could use some help… I don't understand this kind of thing and Yuugo is as stubborn as a mule”

“Dina, you are my closest friend and I respect you but… shut up” I groaned under my nose while softly banging my head against the dining table.

“Is building the airplane really this hard?” Lucas sat down across the table.

“Why do you care? Do you want to steal it again?”

“Okay, okay. Fair point. I deserved that” he sighed tapping on the table. His expression looked guilty. “Yuugo, I'm so sorry about earlier. I really got jealous and…”

“You behaved like an asshole?” I lifted up my head from the table.

“Heh yeah… I guess I was kind of an asshole”

“And?” Dina grinned at the rust haired boy.

“I'm sorry for being jealous and it won't happen again” Lucas muttered, still not looking at me. “I acknowledge that it's your birthday present and I won't attempt to steal it again.” I huffed while my blonde haired friend seemed to accept this apology.

“Well it's not like I can stay mad at him for long” I thought, standing up and ruffling his hair. “Fine. Come here ya idiot. We are all good”

“Really?”

“Of course you dummy!”

“Just don't do it again Lucas” Dina kindly chimed in.

“Yeah, you know if you asked me I would have shared it with you”

“So… does that mean I can help you build it?” my rust haired friend grinned at me.

“What do you think?! Of course ya can!” I laughed.

_____________________________________

A lot of things happened after me and my friends left Glory Bell following the path of William Minerva. Lot of things happened after we left our new home, the B06-32 shelter and headed towards our next goal, which was Goldy Pond. There I… I faced many horrors and most of them still haunt me in my dreams. I lost everyone I ever cared about, my younger ‘siblings’, my comrades, even my closest friends Dina and Lucas and I blamed myself for these horrors. For thirteen long years I blamed myself. I completely abandoned hope and only concentrated on my own survival.

Then almost a year ago a bunch of idiots bursted into my life, full of ambitions, dreams and hopes. It was sickening really, I wanted all of them gone, but no matter what I did. How many times I threatened to kill them they just wouldn't leave. Ya all remember what I said about hitting my younger self on the back of his neck for being a rascal right? Well I had that feeling tenfold when I first met Emma and Ray. Then those two… no the whole group managed to do the impossible. They gave me back the hope I lost. Antenna dragged me out of the shelter and Cyclops basically kicked my butt back to Goldy Pond because that purple eyed idiot refused to let his best friend die. And then they gave me back not just hope but also someone I thought I had lost forever. Lucas! I will be grateful to Emma and Ray and all of those amazing, headstrong idiots for reuniting me with him until the day I die. But if anyone from y'all who are reading this tells them that, I will make you sleep a night out of the shelter, kapish? They also made me, me who always loathed my birthdays, enjoy it once….

_____________________________________

(24th of December 2046, B06-32 shelter)

Third Person Pov:

The shelter was buzzing with life. A little more than 60 people gathered under the shelter’s trapdoor. They all seemed excited about something. The trapdoor opened with a quiet beep and a white haired boy’s grinning face appeared.

“We are totally snowed in” Oliver's voice was basically ringing with excitement. “The whole Wasteland is demon clear. Everyone dress up warmly!”

All the kids started cheering as they ran towards their rooms to get their winter clothes.

Yuugo watched them and rolled his eyes, trying to mask the grin tugging on his lips.

The little ones were asking for this for weeks, while the Kvathidala search group can use this day as a well deserved break.

“Yuugo, come one! You don't want to miss this out!” Emma peaked into the kitchen, smiling brightly.

“Yeah Geezer, what are you waiting for? You always say you want to throw things at us. Now you can do it without any consequences! Don't tell me you're scared of a little snowball fight?” Ray joined in the conversation with a huge grin on his face, resting his chin on the red haired girl's head.

“Speaking of the most troublesome pair from the Search group” The black haired man thought to himself.

“I'm coming, I'm coming. You go ahead ya rascals”

“In that case… tag you're it!” the freckled girl tapped Ray on the shoulder and started running.

“Hey! Not fair!” the dark haired boy complained jokingly, chasing after her.

The two oldest Grace Field kids left the kitchen, their laugh and cheerful shouts echoed in the hallway. They were already in their thick, warm winter clothes. Yuugo shook his head, smiling.

“Now, they are finally behaving like kids should” he murmured under his breath while going to fetch his own winter clothes. “Ray's birthday is next month. Who else has a winter birthday? I should ask Lucas” his thoughts trailed towards the children as he climbed up the ladder to the surface only to immediately get hit by a snowball in the face.

Yuugo's Pov:

“Eek! Sorry Mister! I thought that you would be Don!” Thoma’s voice shouted.

“You little… when I catch you!” I whipped down the snow from my face, jumping at the snow, already forming a ball-like shape from it and throwing it towards the boy. Unfortunately someone stood in front of Thoma receiving the unpleasant icy surprise instead of the boy.

“Oh shit…” I thought “Lucas, why are you in the way?!”

“Oh so you threw the snowball” the rust haired man laughed. “If I didn't know you Yuugo, I would call you childish”

“Yes because of… huh?! Where is Thoma?”

“He went after the others” Ray chimed in.

“And where are the others?”

“The other side of that hill” the black haired teen pointed across the white landscape. “Anna, Nat, Zack and Oliver took most of the kids to sleigh with them. I think Nigel even built some skis and snowboards. They are testing them” he stood next to a huge snowman, while lifting up Chris in piggy back style so the little boy could place the carrot as the snowman’s nose.

“Then why are you still here Cyclops?”

“Don't worry Geezer, once we finish this we get out of your hair.”

“We?” I started to get confused.

“Theo said he never had a chance to build a snowman, since there weren't big snowfalls in the past few years in his Plantation so we thought we would make up for that” Jemima smiled, stepping out from behind the thing, bringing a few pebbles for the snowman’s buttons, mouth and eyes.

“And Ray is here to make sure we don't get buried under the snow” Theo said, shooting a thankful glare at the older boy.

“He is totally acting like a mother hen” Lanni brought himself two big sticks and immediately received an annoyed glare from Ray. “What? It's true. You are always worrying.”

“Because you and Thoma always do something that you think it's funny while in reality it's dangerous”

“Oh here we go again…” the blond haired boy rolled his eyes.

“I don't know Lanni… I think Ray is in the right here” Alicia handed the black haired boy an old scarf, which he put on the snowman.

“Ugh… of course you say that”

“Lanni enough. How about you help Theo decide what hat should our snowman have?” there was a little warning in Ray’s voice.

“This is the subtle way to say ‘Shut the fuck up’.” I thought to myself “Damn! Maybe I should ask Cyclops to teach me how to do that”

“And now you're sounding just like Mom…” Lanni continued and Ray's eyes shot up at him. For a second his expressions seemed shocked with a dangerous light shining in his eyes.

“You're on thin ice, Lannion.” he said, gently putting down Chris from his neck and hiding a good amount of snow on his hand

“Yeah? And what will you do about it? Put me in a time out, like she used to when we were still in the House”

“No” Ray calmly walked over to the blond haired boy, messing up his hair “I think this will do the trick” he grinned and put the snow under Lanni's winter coat.

“Ahhh! Ray! Ahhh! What is wrong with you?! You know how freaking cold this is!?”

“Yeah, I know. Come on Little man, turn around. Back to the shelter. We are going to have a serious talk” The black haired boy grabbed Lanni's arm and I physically had to restrain myself from laughing.

“And what about the sleigh?” Jemima asked quietly and Cyclops' eyes immediately grew wide, then he looked at me with almost pleadingly.

“Fine…you can have this Kid” I thought. “Lucas, would you be so nice and join me on a walk? I have a revenge to get back on Thoma” I turned towards my partner.

“Sure, come on kids! Let's leave your very nice snowman here and join the others” he smiled, herding the kids towards the hill.

“Thanks” Ray whispered.

“You owe me one, Night owl” I scoffed with a smile.

_____________________________________

Hours later, when all the kids got tired of sliding down and climbing back up to the hill. We started to head back to the shelter. Lucas and I closed the line to hide our tracks, so no wild demon could follow it. We were walking for quite a while when Lucas spoke up.

“You seem grumpier than usual. What's wrong?” he asked as we watched the kids in front of us.

“It's just…” I sighed. “This is the first Christmas I spent with others after a really long time”

“We missed out a lot of Christmas haven't we?” Lucas sighed.

“Wait, you too? Really? You didn't celebrate with the kids at Goldy Pond?” my eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“No, not really. Occasionally we had time to sit down together and eat a meal in peace but usually we had to spend most of our free time planning the final battle”

“Oh yeah… right. Sorry” I nervously run my hand through my hair.

“You know you don't have to walk on eggshells whenever we mention Goldy Pond, right?”

“Then why do I feel like I have to?”

“Because you're an idiot?” the rust haired man offered.

“I'm serious Lucas. Oh god! I wish I wasn't a coward and went back to the Hunting Ground! Then…

“Then they…” he pointed towards Emma and the Grace Field group who were currently climbing back down on the shelter’s ladder “...wouldn't have had you here to help them. I'm not happy about the missing time either. I hate how you were alone for 13 years, but let's be honest. Emma and the others would not accomplish this many things this fast if you weren't here”

“Ah… well damn. I guess you are right about this” I muttered under my breath.

“What? Sorry I didn't hear you” he grinned.

“Oh my god Lucas…I swear you're dancing on my nerves on purpose” I thought but in the end I just sighed. “I said you were right, ya idiot.” I grumbled which caused him to chuckle.

“Good to know I can still rile you up” the rust haired man laughed as he started to climb down the ladder.

_____________________________________

Third Person Pov:

“So you really did that on purpose. I'm offended” Yuugo gasped, a false annoyance swiping into his voice as he landed on the solid floor behind his rust haired partner. Only to find himself in the dark corridor, alone. “Oh haha Lucas. I'm not eight anymore, I'm not scared of the dark”

There was no answer, but some faint whispers were coming from the room with the piano in it.

“What the hell? Are all the gremlins playing hide and seek?” the black haired man switched on the corridor’s lamps. “And where the hell Lucas went to?” he slowly walked towards the room as the whisper got louder and louder.

He turned to the next corridor, went straight to the room’s door and now he was able to hear some words.

“Psst… keep it down… he is coming” various children's voices mixed together.

“Oh yeah. They're definitely playing hide and seek” Yuugo grinned, pushing down the doorknob. “Found ya little rascals!” He opened the door only to get blinded by someone who turned on the lights.

“SURPRISE!” the younger kids yelled jumping at the man “HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUUGO!!!” the older kids choir joined in, leaving the black haired man speechless.

A confetti cannon popped open, covering the man with colorful confetti papers.

“Wha… what…What's going on?” his voice faltered, still not quite believing what he saw.

“Well… we thought that this year we would celebrate your birthday instead of Christmas” Emma smiled at Yuugo. “Lucas told us it's today and since last year we met in January. We thought that this year there's no way we will miss out on it.

“The most tricky part was to make sure everyone kept the secret until today” Oliver joined in placing a party hat in the hands of the still shocked Mister.

“But… But you… You guys… How in the world?”

“Give us some credit Geezer.” Ray chuckled, placing the hand crafted confetti cannon onto the table. “We organised an escape plan and an attack plan in the same year and we were on our own for that most of the time”

“Keeping a surprise party as a secret for a few months was child's play” Don nodded.

“They're fascinatingly creative” Lucas patted Yuugo's shoulder from behind. “Only Anna and Pepe asked a question about which plant can replace sugar. They did everything else on their own”

“We also made presents. I hope you will like them” Alicia hugged the black haired man.

“Yes, there are over there Mister. You can open them whenever you want” Jemima pointed at a chair full of wrapped boxes.

“We wrapped them up” Lanni and Thoma grinned.

“More like, you annoyed me and Ray as we did it” Gilda scolded them gently.

“When did you have time to decorate? To place the presents here? To… well… To do all of this”

“Come on Mister, did you really think it was a coincidence that you had to come with Chris to the hills today?” Zack shrugged with a smile on his face.

“Lanni and I were the decoy… he overplayed his part though” Ray sent an angry glare towards the blond haired boy.

“Hey, I already said sorry ten times. When will you let it go?”

“That insult was way under the belt” the dark haired teen groaned under his nose, but immediately stopped moping when Nat sat down to the piano.

Yuugo's Pov:

“I was told that you don't like the ‘Happy birthday’ song so mind if I play ‘Quiet night’?” Nat looked at me.

“Ah… no, no, not at all… ya go ahead Kid” I muttered, trying to find against my emotions.

He started playing and oh boy, he was good. Way better than we were back in Glory Bell when our Teacher tried to teach us this song.

“Well this is definitely not helping to fight back my tears” I thought thinking that was it, but nooo, because the kitchen door opened. Anna and Pepe carefully brought in a tray of cake with candles and everything. I spent the next hours surrounded by this found family of mine. Opening hand made presents, eating cake, which turned out delicious by the way and just being in the moment. Because this night the outside world with the demons, with all that pain from the past seemed to cease from existence.

_____________________________________

“So? How do you like this birthday?” Lucas' voice felt light thunder in my eardrums pulling me back to the actual conversation I was in. I turned towards him.

“You! You set this all up?”

“I merely dropped some words here and there. It was all the kids’ doing” he smiled, joy was twinkling in his eyes. “Don't tell me you don't like it”

“Are ya kidding?! This is the second best birthday I had in my life”

“Second?” he was surprised. “Which one do you place on top if not this?”

“When a certain rust haired idiot got jealous and stole my present” I grinned at him and watched his reaction.

“Oh my god! You're such a jerk, you know that” Lucas laughed, then placed his head on my shoulder. “In some way I miss it.”

“The House?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly, his voice quieted down. “The company” he looked up at me and my tears suddenly threatened to fall.

“Hm…me too. I miss them so very, very much. But if I learned anything this year, it is that nothing and no one really dies. You know how many times these little rascals remind me of our friends, hm?” I whispered, putting my head on top of his. “Everything lives on in some way as long as someone is there to tell their story”

“Yeesh, when did you get so wise?” my friend's voice faltered.

“Comes with age… I guess” I shrugged not finding more words.

“Happy birthday Yuugo” Lucas looked up at me, gently squeezing my hand.

“Merry Christmas Lucas” I answered softly, squeezing back his hand.

The End💗

[wrongcaitlyn]

also, since i feel bad about making you guys wait so long and i'm also not 100% sure if i'll manage a chapter before sunday (will be trying, but it's been a whileDJSD) here's a snippet of what i've already written!

and a little update on the chapter, i've got like.. 1/6 of it done? ish? and i def could've written more earlier but instead i spent an hour planning and outlining one of nico's future music videos with @wronghuntress

it's a very cool mv and i am very proud of it and just like the details and aesthetics of the next few albums are ahghsldkjsldfj im so so excited for you guys to seee!! i feel like i should be making pinterest boards for these. but that's my brain derailing me again. i will do that over summer.

so!! snippet!!

They decide on the end of July for the rescheduled concerts. Partly because it gives Nico a little over two months to mentally prepare, partly because Will has a summer class in June so he’d be able to travel with them in July (along with Leo, who invited himself along too), and partly because it worked with Alex’s schedule.

Until then, though, there turns out to be a lot to get done.

Will’s rescheduled finals have been all finished by the end of May. Apollo has set up a series of job interviews for the three main people he’s decided they need—a publicist, a tour manager, and an assistant for him (that last one was pushed for by Nico, and then Will as well, and because Apollo isn’t able to resist their combined efforts, it worked)—throughout the last week of May and early June. The Archery World Championships are from the tenth to the sixteenth, in the Netherlands, and the entire family will be there to watch Kayla. 

From there on, it’s studio work, studio work, and more studio work throughout the rest of June. It’s a lot of therapy. It’s some secret project that Apollo keeps obviously working on, but is clearly attempting to hide the evidence of. Nico doesn’t know whether he should be concerned, but his eye bags have faded slightly, and he’s returned to styling his hair rather than throwing it up in a bun, so Nico thinks that’s a good sign.

The New York estate doesn’t have a proper studio—at least, not as good as Apollo’s house in LA. Still, it has the basics, including a mic, a computer with some audio editing software that Nico’s familiar with, and a keyboard, so while Will is studying and out taking his exams, Nico is there. 

For once, he feels like he doesn’t have much to write about the situation. It scares him for a bit when first walking into the studio, expecting to open his phone to an extensive list of depressing lyrics, only to find nothing.

He tells Mr. D that during their next therapy session. There’s no concrete answer, because Nico isn’t quite sure what exactly prompts him to spill out his thoughts in lyric form usually, but Mr. D had suggested the idea that instead of falling straight to the conclusion and having to sort out his thoughts, he was instead stuck in a sort of paralysis while Will was in the hospital, and then immediately talked out his feelings in person rather than on paper afterward.

Nico supposes that it makes sense. But that doesn’t stop him from rushing to the studio as soon as he’s sure Will won’t ‘accidentally’ overwork himself once left alone for over an hour—just to see if there really isn’t anything left to say.

It turns out, there is. There always is. But the songs that he writes now feel more self-deprecating and slightly relieved rather than the accusatory, grieving tones of the rest of the album. And besides, he thinks that he’s too close to a possible release date (or, at least, the beginning of the promotional singles process) to be planning an entirely new series of songs.

He still writes them, of course. They’ll just have to remain in lyric form, for now, though.

[bisnes-socks]

bluza analysis under the cut, i'm feeling two ways about it

i'm a bit conflicted. i didn't listen to any of the recordings of the live version, and that was a purposeful decision, and i'm glad i didn't. i heard the song in helsinki and i haven't heard is since, so i went into this kinda blind, which is how i prefer to approach music tbh.

i have both positive and negative thoughts on this one.

after listening to it three times, my first thought is that i'm personally not feeling the mixing on this (i listened to it in a quiet room with proper noise-cancelling headphones, twice on tidal and once on youtube, so like i cannot blame my surroundings or my own tech for the experience, so i feel pretty confident saying what i hear is actually in the mixing of the song).

when the drums finally come in fully, they are buried in the mix. like usually the point of bringing the full drum kit into play only at the end of the song is to grow the sound and get a big and satisfying finish, but for me, purely because of the mixing, that feeling wasn't there. and the very forward and loud keyboard sounds that are panned heavily to the right distract me from the guitar lead part, that is mixed heavily to the left. i feel a bit disoriented by the mix because i find it difficult to focus on anything.

now that isn't to say the mixing is bad! it's just not what i expected and i, personally, am not finding it easy to get used to. i hope i will get used to it, listening to the song more though. knowing what to expect now, i'm sure i will.

because:

i do like all of the individual elements in the song! it's such a simple song in its structure and basic melody that all of the delicious little details the guys seem to be experimenting with on the third album make it a very interesting song to listen. like there's always something cool happening somewhere! the song feels very familiar and homey (at least in part because it follows very usual and typical chord progressions, but that's not a bad thing! just means it's not super unpredictable, but instead easy and comforting to listen to).

i really do wish i could hear the bass and the drums more clearly, that they were a bit brighter in the mix, buuuut i guess nace and jure got to show off on šta bih ja, so we shall allow a guitar heavy song 😌

final verdict: a very cute song with lots of cool details, that i wish i could hear just a bit brighter.

[harocat]

I find lots of people who are into Cdramas have what I can only describe as “celebrity brain”. They only really watch shows that have their fav actor, always want the character played by their fav to be the endgame romantic choice (even if it goes against character and theme), and seem to hinge their mental health on whether a show with their fav does Big Numbers. Fans of male actors tend to have misogyny problems too, but I think most people who run an account dedicated to a Chinese celeb could afford to take a step back and remember that they don’t actually know these people

Yes it's very stan culture centered. This is one of the reasons I like Cdrama tumblr better. It feels like it's more about actually enjoying the shows (and yes, sometimes the actors), then endless forced promotion, discussion of heat indexes, fan wars, etc.

People have their faves here, and they share news about them, pics of them, etc. They go out of their way to watch their dramas (or at least attempt to if they end up bad lol), and they're happy when they're successful or popular. They share info about accolades and awards.

But most don't make that their whole viewing experience. They aren't becoming keyboard warriors for some dude they don't know and will never know. They're here because they love dramas, not because they have an intense parasocial relationship with an actor or actress.

The way the Wang Yibo blackface discourse morphed from people rightfully calling him out, to the WYB super fans taking over the conversation and making it more about how antis are using it to hate on him is such a good example. Now discussion of it is rebuked with 'oh no don't give the 🐜 more fuel to hate him', and that sucks. I don't give a fuck about antis. I care that WYB did blackface in his movie, and that pisses me off!! They're over there like 'I know in my heart of hearts WYB could not be racist' as if they've ever been within the same wide vicinity of him in their entire life.

With the Dylan thing it's so wild to me because:

he is the male lead

he is the endgame romantic choice

They're pitting him against the female lead for what reason?? They're not rivals. It's giving misogyny, and the fact that they can't handle a woman standing on an equal level with him (she was first billing because she was more famous at the time, yes, but she's also just as much the lead. LBFAD is pretty balanced in that respect). She must be below; both the character and actress. She must be the less popular and important character!! We are going to restructure the narrative of Love Between Fairy and Devil in our minds so it's entirely DFQC's show.

This same person was complaining about the Xiao Lanhua being a goddess storyline because it makes her too important and makes DFQC 'pitiful' (totally out there to me; every other Cdrama fan I know eats it up when a man is pitiful). Like, people would not care about Dylan in LBFAD, and he certainly wouldn't be getting acting accolades, if he were cool all the time in it. It's the pitiful moments, the emotional moments, that make people love him.

It's not even just LBFAD though. I saw major Dylan fan accounts undermining Bai Lu and cropping her out of pics when promoting Only for Love.

I think Esther and XLH just get it worse, because let's be real, LBFAD is good, their chemistry was undeniable, the show was huge, and regardless of how close they are now (we have no idea), it's obvious they were really good friends when on set.

[wirewitchviolet]

"They Don't Teach Kids About Computers These Days!"

I see variations on this a LOT these days. Sometimes it's people in their teens/early 20s being frustrated at how they're expected to know everything about computers, sometimes it's college professors straight up HORRIFIED when they realize they have students who don't have any understanding that their hard drive, a school's internal network, and on a public website are completely distinct places for a file to be located, and I kinda figure the weird stress a lot of people seem to have about the concept of getting a game and not having it just go into their Steam library specifically is a related issue.

Now on the one hand, obviously, I sympathize with this. I have a series of posts on this blog called How A Computer Works, because... I want to teach people about this stuff. (That's still ongoing by the way, I've just got a lot else going on and need to settle on the scope of the next lesson.) On the other hand, uh... I'm from the generation before the one that apparently has all the computer literacy problems, and nobody taught us this stuff in school... and the next generation up wouldn't possibly have had access. So was anyone taught how to use them?

Now I say "they didn't teach my generation how to use computers in school" but that isn't technically true. I see a lot of people call people my age "the Oregon Trail generation" when this topic comes up. Sort of on the edge of Gen X and Millennials, going through school in that window where Apple had really really pushed the Apple ][ on schools with big discounts. And they did have "computer classes" to learn how to do some things on those, but... that isn't really a transferable or relevant skill set.

Like, yeah, if you're below the age of let's say 30 or so as of when I'm writing this, the idea of what "a computer" is has been pretty stable for your whole life. You've got some sort of tower case, a monitor, a keyboard, a mouse, and in that tower there's a bunch of RAM, a processor, video and sound cards of some sort, and a big ol' hard drive, and it's running Windows, MacOS, or some flavor of Unix going for the same basic look and functionality of those. It's generally assumed (more than it should be, some of us our poor) that a given person is going to have one in their home, any school is going to have a whole room full of them, libraries will have some too, and they are generally a part of your life. We can probably make the same sort of general assumption about IPhone/Android cellphones for the past what, 15 years or so too, while we're at it. They're ubiquitous enough that, especially in academic circles where they're kind of required professionally, people are going to assume you know them inside and out.

Prior to the mid-90s though? It was kind of a lawless frontier. Let's say you have a real young cool teacher who got way into computers at like 5 years old, and now they're 25 and they're your computer class teacher in the mid-90s. The computer they got way into as a kid? It would have been this.

That's not a component of it, that's the whole thing. A bank of switches for directly inputting binary values into memory addresses and some more switches for opcodes basically, and then some LEDs as your only output. Nothing about this is other than the benefits of fundamentally understanding some low level stuff is going to be useful at all in any sort of practical sense if you sit down a decade later with one of these.

This at least looks a bit more like a computer you'd see today, but to be clear, this has no mouse, no way to connect to the internet, which wasn't really a thing yet to begin with, and no hard drive, even. You did not install things on an Apple ][. You had every program on a big ol' floppy disk (the sort that were just a circle of magnetic film in a thick paper envelope basically and were, in fact, floppy), you would shove that in the disk drive before turning the machine on, it'd make a horrible stuttering knocking sound resetting the drive head, and just read whatever was on that right into memory and jump right on in to running Oregon Trail or a non-wysiwyg text editor (i.e. there's no making bold text appear on screen, you'd just have a big ugly tag on either side of your [BOLD>bold text<BOLD] like that). It was not unlike popping a cartridge or disc into an older video game console, except for the bit where if you wanted to save something you'd have to take the disk out while it was running and pop a blank one into the drive to save to.

So when I was a kid and I'd have my "computer class" it'd be walking into a room, sitting down with one of these, and having a teacher just as new to it as I was just reading out a list of instructions off a sheet like, "flip open the lock on the disk drive, take the disk out of the sleeve, make sure it says Logo Writer on it, slide it in with the label up and facing you, flip the lock back down, hit the power switch in the back of the machine..." We didn't learn anything about file management beyond "don't touch anything until the screen says it's done saving to the disk" because again, no hard drives. I guess there was a typing class? That's something, but really there's nothing to learn about typing that isn't where every key is and you only (but inevitably) learn that through practice.

Now, overlapping with this, I eventually got myself a used computer in the early 90s, very old at the time, but not as old as the ones at school. I had a proper black and white OG Mac. With a hard drive and a window-based operating system and everything. And... nobody taught me a damn thing about how that one worked. My mother just straight up did not touch a computer until something like 2001. I didn't really have any techie mentors. I just plugged it in and messed around and worked everything out. Same way I worked out what I was doing with older computers, mostly on my own at the local library, because that computer class wasn't much, and how I was totally left on my own to work out how to hook up every console I ever owned, which was slightly more involved at the time.

That forky bit in the middle was held in place with a pair of phillips headscrews. Had to keep the VCR and cable box in the right daisy chain order too.

Enough rambling about how old I am though. What's the actual disconnect here? How did my generation work out everything about computers without help but the next one down allegedly goes dear in the headlights if someone asks them to send them a file?

Well first off I'm not at all willing to believe this isn't at least largely a sampling bias issue. Teachers see all the clueless kids, people asking online for help with things is more common than people spontaneously mentioning how everything is second-nature to them, etc. Two things stick out to me though as potential sources of the issue though:

First, holy crap are modern computers ever frail, sickly little things! I'm not even talking about unreliable hardware, but yeah, there's some shoddy builds out there. I mean there's so many software dependencies and auto-updating system files and stuff that looks for specific files in one and only one location, just crashing if they aren't there. Right now on this Windows 10 machine I've got this little outdoor temperature tracker down in the task bar which will frequently start rapidly fluttering between normal and a 50% offset every frame, and the whole bar becomes unresponsive, until I open the task manager (don't even have to do anything, just open it). No clue what's up with that. It was some system update. It also tries to serve me ads. Don't know if it's load-bearing. Roughly every other day I have to force-quit Steam webhelper. Not really sure what that's even for. Loading user reviews? Part of me wants to dig in and yank out all this buggy bloatware, but I genuinely don't know what files are loadbearing. This wasn't an issue on older computers. Again, screwing around with an old Apple ][, and old consoles and such, there wasn't anything I could really break experimenting around. It was all firmware ROM chips, RAM that cleared on power cycling, and disks which were mostly copy-protected or contained my own stuff. No way to cause any problem not fixed by power cycling.

Next, everything runs pretty smoothly and seemlessly these days (when working properly anyway). Files autosave every few seconds, never asking you where you actually want to save them to, things quietly connect to the internet in the background, accessing servers, harvesting your info. Resolutions change on their own. Hell emulators of older systems load themselves up when needed without asking. There's a bunch of stuff that used to be really involved that's basically invisible today. The joke about this being "a 3D print of the save icon" already doesn't work because how often do you even see a UI element for saving? When we still used disks regularly, they held next to nothing and would take like half a minute to read and write.

And don't even get me started on launchers and start menus and all that.

So... basically what I'm getting at here is if you feel like you never learned how to properly use a computer, go get your hands on an old computer and mess around. There's yard sales, there's nice safe runs in a browser emulators, hell there's kits to build your own. That or just look for someone wearing like a Mega Man T-shirt or playing a Madonna CD (hell maybe just any CD these days) and start politely asking questions, because again just because everyone who knows this stuff just had to work it out on our own doesn't mean you should have to.

[j0jorocity]

THE CHRONICALLY ONLINE ROME FAN’S BLOG

HELLO! WELCOME TO MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE INTERNET!

I’m Iosephus! Here’s some stuff you should know about me before deciding to interact (byi list):

I AM UNDER 18! Under 12 and over 28 I would prefer not to interact with (unless I know you otherwise I really don’t care)

I use she/her pronouns and feminine terms but I guess I don’t mind masc and neutral pronouns and terms (link to my pronouns page which has some of my other links)

I’m Hispanic (🇨🇺🇵🇪 RAHHHH) and I can speak English and Spanish just fine, though my Spanish isn’t the best 😞

APH ROME aND THE ANCIENTS HAVE MY HEART!!!!!

Sonic is my main hyperfixation as of now but I also like Hetalia (really just APH Rome) and C*untryhumans (and some others). Please don’t block me I SWEAR IM COOL I LITERALLY DONT INTERACT WITH THE FANDOM AT ALL

IF WE’RE CLOSE I WILL USE MILDLY SEXUAL HUMOUR AND KMS JOKES (never kys). IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH WHAT I SAY PLEASE LET ME KNOW

I tend to be very straightforward with people who suddenly dm me, but I promise I’m not trying to be mean! :(

NOW, FOR SOME OF MY INTERESTS, FAVOURITE CHARACTERS AND ETC!

(In order from most hyperfixed to least, will also include my fave characters from each fandom and other thoughts)

HETALIA

Rome and literally all the ancients. I’m sorry I don’t care for the main cast but I like PruHun too

C*UNTRYHUMANS

IM SORRY OK IVE BEEN IN THIS FANDOM FOR FOUR YEARS I CAN’T

Anyways I like ch America but only in my head. Please don’t block me please please please I want friends

COOKIE RUN KINGDOM

I started playing around Pumpkin Pie’s banner and then quit for like two years. Picked it back up during wind archer’s banner and I’m OBSESSED

I can’t choose my absolute favourite but I show more love towards dark cacao, latte and almond (as a ship mostly), advenberry, financier (my WIFE!!!), burning spice (recently developed a new obsession w him). Characters I wouldn’t call my favourites but I think are super cool are cream ferret, mystic flour, wind archer, smoked cheese, golden cheese, pure vanilla, lilac, dark choco, and peach blossom!! I don’t play Ovenbreak but I’d love to learn more abt fire spirit, millennial tree, and yogurt cream…… user is sanestaphromefan on dark cacao server

SONIC

TBH. I got into sonic bc of the movies. Now I think about it every single day as I write this I’m trying not to have a mental breakdown over gay hedgehogs

METAL SONIC HAS MY HEART AGHHHHHHH I THINK ABOUT HIM A NORMAL AMOUNT I SWEAR. I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM!!!!!! Besides metal, I love team sonic, team chaotix and shadow 🥺 my sonic otps r metamy, metonic (in a toxic one sided yaoi way), sonadow, stobotnik, and Espilver!!!!

CARMEN SANDIEGO (2019)

I love Devineaux HE’S MY HUSBAND. I LOVE THAT PATHETIC FRENCH MAN. I LOVE HIM AGCJWGDJAHCD

Team Carmen and Devineaux+Julia my goats…

Less intense interests (that I might repost but not talk about) include:

Inside Job

Wild Kratts

Spy x Family

JJK

JJBA

Epic: The Musical

This list may change

IF YOU CAN’T TELL I LOVE TALKING. BUT THERE’S SOME PEOPLE THAT LIKE CERTAIN THINGS THAT I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO!

My DNI list:

General criteria

BIGOTS. HOMOPHOBES, TRANSPHOBES, RACISTS, MISOGYNISTS, TRUMP SUPPORTERS, ETC, DNI.

PROSHIPPERS AND JUST PPL WHO LIKE PROBLEMATIC SHIT I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH 😭😭😭😭

(This includes, but not limited to: USUK, Itacest, Germancest, SPAMANO, CANAME/FRANADA/CANUK, SovReich, AND BURNINGCHEESE/SHADOWVANILLA/MYSTICCACAO, ANY BEAST X ANCIENT SHIPS. To be completely honest I GUESS I can talk with proshitters BUT DON’T FUCKING BRING THIS SHIT UP AROUND ME I HATE IT SO MUCH I DONT WANT TO HEAR PEOPLE DEFEND THESE SHIPS)

People who use brainrot humour 24/7 and are generally just annoying. Get a life.

PEOPLE WHO DON’T RESPECT OTHERS OPINION, KEYBOARD WARRIORS, ETC.

Artists who twinkify Poland more than he is 😭

If you don’t seem to care abt our conversations and instantly try to move onto a new topic every time we speak. Super annoying in general and it affects me a lot

May add more to this later since I’m forgetting a few things

YAY! You’ve almost made it through my intro post! Here’s just a last few tidbits about myself and then I can shut up 🫶

I HAVE A BAJILLION ANCIENTS HETALIA OCS (like less than 15 💀) AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE TALKING ABOUT THEM PLEASE ASK ME ABT THEM AND I ALSO WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABT UR ANCIENTLIA OCS IF U HAVE ANY!!!

I have another blog for said ocs, @rometalia ,,, it’s a bit dead rn bc I’ve been busy with school :(

I’m open to all asks!!! But please nothing inappropriate I am a minor AND NO POLITICS 😭😭

I am a BIG shipper. I don’t take them like, super seriously but I will get mad if you bash my ship if it’s not problematic or just to be a hater 😭 I’ll link the rentry to all of my ships and then my ships dni, but yeah I’m just a big fan of fictional yaoi and yuri and everything in between sigh… but I do love my found family tropes

My favourite YouTubers are Uncle Roger, Nick DiGiovanni and Guga. I love food and I kinda wanna become a chef in the future ☺️

Trying to beat the art block allegations day 37273627

MY BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IS @fertaine !!!! I LOVE YOU MY POOKIE WOOKIE BEAR!!!!! FERTAINE HATERS DNI DNI DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT APPROACHING ME I AM THEIR NO.1 FAN AND DEFENDER

My gerrome side blog is @j0jorocityisntokay

If you see me reblogging from a proshipper (USUK and Spamano especially in this case), please let me know! I most likely didn’t know they supported these ships.

Almost forgot to mention, but here are my tags!

#jojo reblogs -> self explanatory

#jojo rambles -> me yapping abt general stuff or answering to asks, idk

#jojo’s sonic yap -> can you guess

#aph jojo rambles -> anything related to hetalia, so probably headcanons or whatever lol

#rome posting -> self explanatory

#flippity fart farmland posting tag -> me talking to Fern ☺️

#jojo’s art -> updated once in a blue moon I hate my art

Will add more as I see fit

THAT IS ALL, MY FRIENDS! I HOPE TO HAVE A WONDERFUL TIME ON THIS WEBSITE! 🫶

(The dividers that aren’t red roses belong to @kostevysen )