#but it is hard when ONE of my MULTIPLE muses cooperates at a time

[purgatorychxsm]

Hi! These usually get around a little quicker and I'm looking to find some new people to write with... so!

If you're interested in interacting a multimuse blog featuring MANY different titles [though mainly NITW, and crossovers of that], evolving by the day, give that a ♥ and/or (preferably) a reblog!

[carpememes]

RP Community Balance

With rp circles being so different between fandoms, writing styles and muse types it’s easy to forget that it’s supposed to be a roleplay COMMUNITY. Not individuals always getting what they want from other people.  We’re all guilty of taking the ‘this is MY hobby so I’ll do it the way I want’ mentality too far at times and forgetting that our partners deserve a certain amount of compromise and effort from us. RP is meant to be cooperative.

Here are some tips based on what I’ve observed and learned in my 12 years of RPing on tumblr

Practice what you preach. Hold yourself to the same standards you hold for others. Do for others the things you expect them to do for you. If you expect a certain level of activity and interaction from people, are you meeting that standard yourself? If you expect a certain level of investment, are you making an effort to seem as invested? Work as hard as you expect others to work for you. If you want to just take it easy and write casually at your own pace, that's fine! Just remember to pause and ask yourself if what you're asking of others is more than what you are currently willing to do. It's easy to ask for too much without realizing.

Understand that others have lives too. Are you feeling burnt out? Tired? Weary of current events? Need a mental health break? Are you just REALLY BUSY with real life stuff? Well so are others, and maybe at different times than you are. Your partners need breaks too. We can’t always be on all the time and we are all entitled to times when we want to take it easy or just can’t be online. Maybe it’s a work or school schedule keeping you away. Your partner probably has a schedule too. Don’t let yourself forget that others not being on to give you what you want the moment you ask for it doesn’t mean they don’t care. They aren’t online because they can’t be. They’ll come back when they’re ready and you can be there for them when they do.

Give as much as you take. If you’re asking for interactions, asks, starters, etc., remember to also give those to your partners. Ensure that your conversations and plotting are balanced and that both of you are getting to do things you want. It's easy to say "here's a plot I want to do" or "Listen to my idea" but don't forget that your partner may want their own things too. Talking about our muses we love is fun, I know. Which is why you should let your partners do the same.

Don’t let your partners feel invisible. If they’re posting statuses, dash commentary, are asking for feedback or are even just having a rough time... Even a like helps them feel less alone. We’re on the internet. We can’t see each other to know if we’ve been heard. When someone reaches out on the dash and gets silence, they feel ignored and isolated. They aren't posting on the dash because they Don't want anyone to see it. It's easy to get caught up in our own fun and our own priorities and that doesn't make you a bad person. Just remember to check in every now and then.

Understand that other people are allowed to have preferences. When you make a muse you NEED to understand that there will be people who aren’t interested in them and that isn’t their fault or yours. And they are allowed to have that preference. This is especially hard for multimuses but it’s essential. It sucks when a muse doesn’t get a lot of attention but that’s the reality of being on the internet. People are going to like different things. There are thousands of fandoms and no one can be in all of them. Let your partners not adore every single character you write. Accept that they are individuals with preferences of their own. You made multiple muses because YOU have diverse preferences. Respect that your partners have them as well and that they may not 100% line up with our own. Our decisions to add muses are not the responsibility of our partners and followers. It doesn’t mean they like YOU any less if they are not interested in one or more of them. 

Don’t expect anyone to think the way you do. This should go without saying but it’s easy to forget. Not everyone has the same opinions or can operate a blog the same way you can. Maybe you can interact with any fandom at any time and that’s not a problem for you. For others, that’s not so easy. Maybe small fonts and fancy aesthetics don’t bother you. For others they are a massive roadblock that keeps them from being able to interact with big parts of the community because they are physically incapable of moving past them. To expect everyone to be as comfortable as you are with any given thing is not only unrealistic but hurtful and ableist. Mental and physical health is a broad spectrum that everyone has to manage their own in their own ways. Consider this when you’re wondering why others can’t or won’t do something that’s easy for you.

Know when it’s appropriate to comment on negative feelings. Sometimes people are going to do things you don’t like. That’s just reality. It’s going to happen. But there are times to comment and times to keep your negative thoughts to yourself. Commenting on a friend’s post in support of them after they get a hateful anon? Appropriate as long as you don’t take your defense of them to an equally hateful place. Sending a hateful anon or bullying people into changing behaviors that suit your preferences or to stop writing content that you don't enjoy? Absolutely, 100% never okay. There is nothing requiring you to see content you don't like or follow blogs you don't enjoy. And nothing stopping you from unfollowing or blocking. Curate your own experience, do not expect others to curate it for you. There are times when it’s appropriate to air your grievances but hurting people is never the answer. It’s 100% easier to say nothing than it is to go out of your way to attack someone for the way they choose to run their blog. 

[plaidbooks]

Flirt it Out

A/N: I got a request from @ghd76 that was: could you write a one shot about Sonny getting super flustered by a female criminal (just a thief or something not a rapist) and he tries to continue the interrogation but she just keeps messing with him with dirty talk etc. And so I did! Hope you all enjoy <3

Tags: none, just flirting (though, I do mention homeless a lot, so if that’s a trigger, beware), also, the briefest mention of rape and pimps--blink and you miss it

Words: 1618

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @mrsrafaelbarba @averyhotchner @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

You had always been a good person: you kept your head down at work, you’d give money to every homeless person you saw, you often volunteered in a variety of things around the city. But it wasn’t enough. How could it be? With more and more people losing their homes, it just seemed never ending. Which is why you decided to help in a different way.

Big chain stores were popping up everywhere, and it drove you mad. So, you started shoplifting—only at the corporations, never a small, mom and pop shop. And you only stole food and sometimes baby formula, to give to the homeless or women’s shelter. You were just trying to help people. Plus, stealing from huge stores like that wasn’t exactly hard. And you sort of liked the adrenaline rush, anyways.

You were currently distributing food to a pack of homeless people when you found a body. The girl couldn’t have been older than 15 or 16, and she was beaten and bruised. Miraculously, she was still alive. You quickly called 911, giving them a place and description, before heading off. You didn’t want the cops questioning you.

 ********************

It had been a few days since you found the girl, and you saw in the news that she had been beaten and raped, most likely by her pimp. They were asking for the witness who called in about her to come into precinct 16; Manhattan SVU. But you didn’t want to be involved, not when you yourself were a criminal. Not that you would admit that willingly. But you’d seen law shows; the defense always had a way of digging up personal info on eyewitnesses, and you didn’t want to take the chance.

Shaking it off, you went to Walmart, bags at the ready. You filled the bags with boxed foods, pretended to go through the self-checkout, and headed towards the doors. This particular store didn’t have the person checking recipes, so you just casually strolled out. No one batted an eyelash at you; you wore nice clothes, held your head up high, and exuded confidence. Soon enough, you were carrying the bags down the street, heading for an alley that you knew was a makeshift “home” for multiple families.

It wasn’t until you rounded the corner that you noticed this was the alley you had found that girl in. Two detectives—a greying man and a blonde woman—were talking to a homeless man when you entered the alleyway.

“Oh, that’s her right there,” the homeless man said, pointing to you. Both detectives looked to you, then started coming towards you slowly.

Your first instinct was to panic and run, but you stopped yourself. If you did that, then they’d think you were guilty of something. So, you held your ground, ignoring the detectives and starting to pass out food. The detectives were stopped by the homeless gathering around you, and you fought a smug smile.

“Excuse me, Miss?” the male detective called.

You glanced at him before turning back to your task. “Can this wait? I’m a little busy right now.”

“No, it can’t,” the blonde said. “Were you the one that found the girl here a few days ago?”

Lie? Or go with the truth? It’s not like you knew anything anyways.

“I found her, yeah. But I know nothing about it; I don’t know who she is, and I didn’t see anyone else,” you answered.

The blonde gave you a look before asking, “We got a few more questions if you can just give us a moment—”

“I already told you all I know. I found a girl, I called 911. I got no other information for you.”

The detectives glanced at each other. “Can you come down to the station with us, please?” the blonde continued.

“I’d rather not, no,” you replied, wondering why this woman was trying so hard to get more.

“Don’t make us force you in.” Even her partner gave her a surprised look at that.

You scoffed. “For what? Giving you all the information I have?” “Uh huh; wanna show me a recipe for all this food you’re givin’ away?” she asked, a small smirk on her face.

There were still a few homeless people between you and them, so you took your chances. You turned and ran. You heard the woman detective curse before there was a scuffle, then two sets of footsteps following you. You turned this way and that, seemingly at random, but you knew these streets. You were trying to lose them in your home turf. What you didn’t know, was that this was their home turf, too.

The man, who had impossibly long legs, caught up to you fairly quickly, his partner a few steps behind.

“Leave me alone! I didn’t do anything! I don’t know anything!” you yelled, trying to push yourself to go faster. But the man overtook you, grabbing your shirt and pulling you to a stop. The three of you were panting as you tried to come up with something to save yourself. There’s a trick you learned early in your thieving career; when in doubt, flirt it out.

“We just have a few questions for ya,” the man said, letting you go. Him and the woman had you pinned against the wall anyways; you had nowhere to go.

“Look, Mr…?”

“Detective Carisi,” he replied before nodding to his partner. “Detective Rollins.”

“Look Detective Carisi, I was literally handing out food to the homeless when I found that girl. I have no other information for you.” You batted your eyes at him, giving him a soft smile, and you felt the pride at your display when you saw his cheeks turn pink. “I can’t help you anymore….”

“We still have questions for you,” Detective Rollins said harshly, stomping all over your attempt at flirting out of this. But you weren’t giving up that easily.

You continued giving Detective Carisi bedroom eyes as you said, “well, I don’t want to go to the precinct. How about you and I discuss this over a coffee? Or maybe something a little harder?”

He visibly swallowed before Rollins sighed heavily, pulled out handcuffs, and turned you against the wall.

“I’m takin’ you in. For shoplifting and for wasting our time,” she said, giving Carisi a glare. He gave her a sheepish look before they led you to their squad car. You sat grumpily in back, but you were glad that their voices were loud enough to hear through the window.

“God, Carisi, are you really that single that you’ll let a criminal sweet-talk you?” Rollins asked.

He gave her a look. “Hey, just ‘cause I don’t go to bars lookin’ to get laid doesn’t mean I’m desperate. Besides, she’s stealing food to give to the homeless; is she really a criminal?”

“It’s enough to take her in for questioning on the rape. And Carisi—you’re so totally desperate.”

 *******************

You sat in the interrogation room, no longer cuffed. You were waiting for what felt like forever for the detectives to come in. To your surprise, Detective Carisi came in, alone.

“Hey, sorry to make ya wait so long. If you’re ready, we can get started,” he said, sitting across from you.

You smiled at him. “I’m glad to be out of handcuffs. But you seem like the kind of guy that would rather see me in them.”

That cute blush reappeared on his cheeks, but he rolled with it, giving you a smirk. “Do you always try at flirt your way out of trouble?”

“Oh, I’m hardly in trouble. I’m a good girl.”

A little huff of a chuckle, a shake of the head. “Let’s get started, shall we? Where were ya at 8am on Monday?”

“Am I under arrest?” you asked, slowly rising from your seat.

“No, but you will be if ya don’t cooperate.”

You sat back down, leaning back in your chair. “Ohhh, you like to tease, don’t you, Detective sir?”

He cleared his throat. “Where were ya, 8am—”

“On Monday? Shopping.”

“Shopping? Or—”

“Yes, shopping. I do buy groceries for myself, you know.”

He gave you a long stare, like he was trying to figure you out. “Do you have any proof that you were shopping?”

“I have the charge to my card, and the recipe at home. Would you like to come over sometime, Detective? I could show you the recipe, among other things…” you grinned, and his blush deepened.

There was a knock on the one-way mirror, and Detective Carisi looked slightly annoyed, but also a little ashamed of himself. He stood and left the room, and you had to hide a smile. At least he’s cute, you thought to yourself.

 *********************

After Carisi was removed, a new detective came in—Detective Tutuola. He was no nonsense, and you quickly answered his questions, desperate to leave the precinct. True to their word, you were released afterwards, with a stern, “stop shoplifting.” Not like that would affect you.

As you were leaving, you saw Carisi sitting at his desk. He glanced up as you went over to him, and his ears turned pink. You gave him a smirk before taking one of his cards.

“Maybe I’ll give you a call one night, when I’m feeling lonely,” you mused.

The pink turned red as he looked at you. “You can give me a call any time you need me.”

You smiled brighter, and he gave you a nervous smile, his eyes darting around to see if anyone saw the exchange. You blew him a kiss before turning and leaving the precinct. But you swore you could feel his gaze on your ass as you swayed.

[mocnliights]

hello i resisted for as long as i could but have finally picked up a second muse

* adeline rudolph, cis woman + she/her | you know rosemary koo, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, their whole life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to breathin by ariana grande like, a million times this year, which makes sense, ‘cause they’ve got that whole bright smile for strangers and close friends alike, town spirit that can only be held by a former cheerleading captain, and naive dependence on parents thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is september 25th, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( kit, 25, est, she/her ) 

THE BASICS  .

full name : rosemary minji koo . etymology : rosemary ( latin / dew of the sea ) , minji ( korean / sharp intellect ) nickname(s) : rosie or rose ( what most people call her ) , minji ( not exactly a nickname ; it’s her korean name so her dad’s side of the family calls her minji )  birthday & birth place : september 25, 1997 & irving , north carolina sexual orientation : heterosexual/romantic hometown : irving , north carolina current residence : finally out of her parents’ and living at port apartments occupation : intern at her parents’ law firm , weekend shifts at the local flower shop education : bachelor’s from unc in political science positive personality traits : easygoing , generous , cooperative , sociable , bubbly , exuberant , empathetic negative personality traits : dependent , cowardly , sheltered , cautious , spoiled

THE SUMMARY .

tl;dr : could be called irving’s golden girl , idk you tell me . everything has always come easy for rosie --- her grades , money , friends , popularity . saying she’s had a comfortable life is putting it very mildly . as long as she met her parents’ expectations and pursued law to follow in their footsteps , she was content . she had , what most people would perceive , as the perfect life from the outside looking in , which is exactly what her parents wanted . she’s much too dependent on her parents’ income and shelter for a twenty-three-year-old , and she’s only now starting to think she has to get out from under their roof after recent bombshells in their family .

think rich , spoiled naïveté minus the high school bitchiness of rachel green combined with the beloved small town girl of rory gilmore and you’ve got rosie .

THE EXPANDED BULLETS .

the koos ( and i am just now realizing both my muses’ surnames start with k , this was not on purpose dajskdl ) have been in irving for generations . they’re a staple of the town , have always had a pristine reputation , and expect nothing less from future generations

while some relatives ~ could not be tamed ~ and rebelled , rosie never minded . she loved irving and was happy to do what she had to do to meet her parents’ expectations

an only child in a well-off family , nothing seemed off limits , even if she didn’t ask . when she went through a horseback riding phase , she didn’t need to ask twice for her parents to take turns driving her out to nearby stables to train . when she wanted to take up flute instead of piano , which she’d received classically training for since she was three , her parents obliged ( but in addition to her piano lessons ) . when she wanted to give gymnastics a try , she barely mentioned it at dinner before her mom was calling around to find the best gym in their vicinity . you get the picture

not just at home , but everything just always seemed to fall into place for rosemary . she got good grades without having to study too hard , she was named cheerleading captain in high school unanimously , people generally seemed to like her and vice versa . and as long as she stayed out of too much trouble , her parents weren’t as overbearing as people might assume

maybe that was why she was okay with doing as she was told . her parents let her be for the most part , as long as she committed to studying law or politics in college to follow in their footsteps

pregnancy tw : all was good and well until she realized she was late one day in her junior year . she’d just recently lost her virginity to her high school boyfriend , a decision she hadn’t made lightly given her parents’ religious views and how they’d raised her . and now she was pregnant with a whole future ahead of her that didn’t include a teen pregnancy

abortion tw : unknown to everyone except the good people at planned parenthood and her mom bc she was a minor , rosie did the only thing she thought was viable at the time for her reputation , her family , her relationship with her parents , and just about everything . she made an appointment , went through the meetings under the harsh lights , and terminated the pregnancy as quickly as she could

senior year went ahead as planned , prom queen and her secret buried deep

she stayed in state and attended unc , majoring in political science for her parents despite not having any real interest in law , before returning home after graduation

without a real plan , she moved back in with her parents . she didn’t mind at first when she didn’t have to pay rent and they still took care of her laundry for her . and as expected , she started an internship at her parents’ law firm without any complaints

what rosie didn’t realize was that while she was away at school , her parents’ marriage had started to crumble . they were able to put on a front and make it all seem good and well for her when she was home from school , and for the town the rest of the year , but the truth was they were sleeping in separate bedrooms and they barely got through a conversation that didn’t end in a screaming match

they had shielded rosie from the truth , that her mom had been unfaithful . multiple affairs at different points in the relationship , using business trips as facades for a weekend getaway with her latest infidelity . it wasn’t consistent , but there were enough breadcrumbs that her dad pulled at a thread and the truth came out

while her dad was able to stay together and act like everything was still the picture perfect , wholesome , white picket fence family that the koos portrayed to the rest of irving , rosie couldn’t take it . she stayed at home long enough to save up enough money to finally move out and try this life thing on her own

she still isn’t sure how to quit the law internship , how to fully take control of her own life , but she’s trying and making small baby steps . she’s working on her relationship with her parents , especially her mom , but they are certainly tense and she isn’t feeling the best about things atm

[whumptopia]

Superhero Interrogated

my hero academia oc whump commissioned by @everythingbaku

content warnings: torture, drugging, captivity, blood, very brief emeto mention

—

Waking is slow. Ren—bouncy, energetic, excitable Ren—is normally the first one up, rising with the sun while his husband grumbles about needing more sleep. Now, though, he feels sluggish and discombobulated, his eyelids impossibly heavy. Either he’s hungover from partying hard at a rager (unlikely, getting blackout drunk isn’t really his scene), or… something’s wrong with him.

Groaning, he cracks his eyes open. His vision is blurry, and the world is cast in black and white. Wincing, he turns his cheek away from the too-bright light, squinting at his surroundings. His tongue is dry, and he feels… off. It takes a moment for him to process the sensation, but when he does, his heart spikes.

He’s been drugged.

His awareness is quickly returning, and he realizes he’s not lying in his bed. No, he’s sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the wooden arms, his ankles tied to the legs. His neck aches from his head being tipped back for however long he was out. When he lifts his head, the room spins and makes him woozy. He slams his eyes shut and takes several deep breaths until the feeling passes. When he no longer feels faint, he opens his eyes again to assess his situation.

Ren has been kidnapped. That much is obvious. He’s wearing his civilian clothes, so maybe whoever captured him doesn’t know he’s a hero. He’s a shapeshifter, so stealth is his trademark, but his inability to alter the color of his eyes (violet) and his hair (steel blue) sometimes makes him easy to detect. He’s been wearing colored contacts and a baseball cap to compensate, but… hopefully his cover hasn’t been blown.

He looks around the small concrete room, empty except for the chair he’s tied to and the led-lights shining overhead. He’s facing the door. It’s made out of heavy metal and doesn’t have a handle. The room he’s trapped in is more of a cell, really, and definitely not some amatuer goon’s basement.

“Shit,” Ren whispers to himself. He’s really gotten himself into trouble this time. 

He perks up at the sound of footsteps, much more alert now. Someone’s just outside the door—multiple people, if his hearing is right. There’s the sound of multiple bolts being unlatched, and then the door swings open.

Three large, burly men shuffle into the cell, all of them wearing masks, effectively concealing their identities. They’re decked out in protective gear, and Ren notes the weapons strapped to their belts. They must be professionals. Ren swallows. 

“Oh, good, you’re up,” one of them says, “Thought you might’ve overdosed. Hard to figure out how much to give you since you’re so tiny.”

Ren doesn’t validate the remark with a reply. Yeah, they’re not wrong. He’s not even five feet tall, and it sucks, but he can’t exactly help it, can he?

The cell is quiet for a minute or so. They seem to be waiting for him to speak, but he isn’t going to risk revealing anything incriminating. Finally, the goon who entered the room first, the tallest of them all, crosses his arms, taking a step toward him. 

“Nekozawa,” he says slowly, and Ren stiffens. So they do know who he is. He changed his surname to Bakugou after he got married, but he and Katsuki have kept their relationship under wraps to avoid public outcry. Nekozawa is his father’s name and the name everyone knows him by.

He blows a strand of long blue hair out of his eyes. So much for undercover.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he replies snippily, tugging on his wrists to test his restraints. No give. It doesn’t look like he’s gonna be escaping anytime soon.

“You know who we are.” The man moves closer, lifting one booted foot and planting it on the space between his legs—not on his crotch but on the seat of the chair. Close enough to be intimidating (and probably a shitty political statement), but Ren isn’t easily cowed.

Sure, he can be gentle, caring, and loving. He has a soft spot for sweets and pastel t-shirts. His husband sometimes likens him to a kitten, simultaneously teasing and flirting with him. All of these things are true, but he’s still a superhero. He’s a badass, and he’s going to make sure these guys know it.

“Can’t say I do.” He shrugs in disinterest. “I don’t think I’d want to know you, anyway. You guys apparently don’t know a thing about hospitality.”

The man’s lip curls in distaste. “You have infiltrated our organization and have been collecting intel for months. You know more than we can allow.”

“When you say ‘we,’ you mean your bosses, right? If they’re so concerned, why don’t they come talk to me themselves?” Ren suggests. He doubts he’ll get the chance to land his eyes on the higher-ups of the criminal organization he’s currently trying to take down, but he might as well give it a shot, right?

Before Ren can blink, the man’s fist collides with his face. His head is whipped to the side, and he sucks in a breath as his punched cheek throbs in pain.

“Our superiors don’t have time to deal with the likes of you,” the man hisses, kicking the chair back. Ren falls hard, knocking the base of his skull on the floor. Stars dance across his eyes, and he groans, his head pounding. Fuck.

He must lose track of time for a moment because the next time he can see properly, his chair has been picked back up and he’s facing the goons once more.

“What do you want?” Ren asks gruffly. He’s not going to give them anything, not in a million years, but it might do him some good to figure out their agenda. They’re all so… composed, despite their violence. They’re clearly used to dealing with prisoners. No tricking them into letting him go, then. 

“You’re going to tell us what you know,” the man who punched him demands, “and who you work for.”

Ren rolls his eyes, and the goon steps forward, fist clenched.

“I work for myself, thank you very much,” Ren quips, “Oh, and I’m not telling you shit.”

The hit comes, but he’s expecting it this time. Still, the blow to his already bruised cheek hurts twice as much as the first punch did. Stifling a noise of pain, he drops his chin to his chest. The coppery taste of blood quickly fills his mouth, and his tongue aches. He must’ve bit it.

A hand grabs a fistful of his long hair and yanks, forcing him to look up. The goon’s expression is unreadable, hidden behind his mask. “Will you cooperate or not?”

Ren grins, flashing his blood-stained teeth. “What do you think?”

The man lets go of his hair and steps away. Ren tips his head back, breathing heavily through his nose. He’s not as tough as he likes to pretend to be. Those closest to him know he’s a brave fighter who’s willing to die to protect his loved ones, and he has a public reputation as an advocate for civil rights. Still, he isn’t exactly eager to sacrifice himself or get hurt in any way. Living is pretty sweet—so is not being tortured, but it looks like it’s a little late for that now.

There’s an audible shuffle of heavy footsteps as the goons exit his cell, and the coor creaks as it swings shut. With a sigh of relief, Ren looks up—and he’s greeted by the sight of one lone man. Not everyone left the room, it seems. It’s the guy who didn’t speak earlier. He’s standing too close to Ren, his hands clasped behind his back.

Without a second of hesitation, Ren spits at him. The bloody projectile only makes it far enough to land on his shirt, unfortunately. Ren was aiming for his face. 

The man doesn’t flinch.

“Cute,” he drawls, not even glancing down to examine the stain. “But you don’t have to pretend anymore, Ren Nekozawa. It’s just you and me now.”

Ren arches an eyebrow. “What, are you supposed to be good cop or something?”

The man chuckles, a hint of smile curling his lips. “I’m not good cop.”

Unease washes over Ren like an uncomfortable sprinkle of rain, damp and chilling. He tries not to let it show. “Bad cop, then? You gonna hit me some more?”

The man looks up at the ceiling as if talking to himself. “My associate was simply the prelude. Most people break from just the threat of violence. We figured you’d be a little less forthcoming, so I tagged along. I guess you could say I’m the main course.”

Ren pulls on his bound arms reflexively, just a little, and laughs humorlessly. “You gonna tear off my fingernails?”

“Maybe,” the man muses, “but probably not. I doubt you’ll need that much coaxing. You’re not as defiant as you pretend to be.”

Insulted, Ren scowls. “You don’t know me.”

The man nods in concession and begins to circle him like a shark. Ren doesn’t follow his path of travel, simply continuing to glare straight ahead.

“It’s true we’ve never met, but I know people, and you’re easy to read.” He cards a hand through Ren’s hair and twirls a blue strand with his finger. “You’re compensating for your size and apparent vulnerability. It must be difficult, being such a weak hero.”

Ren twists his neck around, dislodging the man’s grip, and tries to bite at his fingers. His teeth clamp around empty air, but his attempt does get the man to back off. Much to his dismay, the guy doesn’t appear threatened in the slightest.

“You’re not even good at using your powers. You stick out like a sore thumb with your height, your hair, and those eyes,” he continues, standing directly in front of Ren now. He plucks a small, thin knife from his belt. “So vibrant. I could help you, y’know. Cut them out, and you’ll be much less identifiable.” He positions the point of the blade just above his pupil, so close that Ren doesn’t even dare to breathe.

“Then again, a boy with two missing eyes might be hard to miss.” With a flick of his wrist, the man cuts a shallow line right underneath his eye. Ren gasps, gritting his teeth. Blood streams down his cheek like a river of tears. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses, trying to maintain his bravado. His heart is jackrabbiting in his chest, and he’s gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles. He won’t admit it, but he’s scared. He wishes Katsuki was here to protect him. So much for being a badass superhero.

The man hums, wiping the blood off the blade using the collar of Ren’s shirt. 

“There are two ways this can go,” he begins, retracting the knife and replacing it with a much larger one. Ren eyes the jagged blade warily. “You can drop the tough-guy façade and answer every question I ask you—”

“Fat fucking chance!” Ren interjects, snarling. The man raises one unimpressed brow. His mask only covers his eyes, leaving the rest of his face on display. Ren briefly wonders if his lack of concern for his identity is supposed to be an intimidation tactic. 

“Or,” the man continues, splaying one palm over Ren’s collarbones and pressing him flat against the chair’s back. With his other hand gripping the knife, he slashes down the front of Ren’s shirt, cutting open the fabric and the skin of his chest. Ren yelps. “I can make you talk.”

Panting, Ren looks down at the gash. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his sternum to his stomach. His insides churn at the sight. 

“So, Nekozawa,” he says amicably, as if he isn’t threatening to torture him, “What will it be?”

Ren squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The work he’s been doing for the past couple months is important. The criminal organization he’s been spying on is guilty of abhorrent crimes and needs to be brought to justice. He thinks of the victims, past, present, and future. He thinks of his fellow heroes, all of whom are undoubtedly braver than him. He thinks of Katsuki, the love of his life. Katsuki would never surrender.

Ren opens his eyes and shoots his interrogator a defiant grin. “I’m not talking. You can try and make me, but it won’t work.”

The man smiles, as if that’s the answer he wanted to hear. “We’ll see, Nekozawa. We’ll see.”

—

Four hours later, Ren cracks.

It’s the knife in his shoulder that finally does it. The man digs the blade past muscle, all the way to bone, and twists. Ren screams, tears flowing freely.

“Who do you work for, Ren?” the interrogator asks for the upteenth time, calm as ever.

“I, I told you, I work a—” Ren begins, but then the knife twists again, and he shrieks: “Ah, Deku! Deku!”

The blade stills. 

“I work, I don’t, I don’t report to anybody,” Ren continues, unbearably ashamed of himself for the name drop. He held out for hours only to break now. “We sometimes work together. He’s not my boss or anything.”

“Not good enough, Nekozawa,” the man sighs, ripping the knife out of his shoulder. Ren yells, his expression contorted in anguish. Yanking the blade out hurt almost as much as the initial stab.

Groaning, he slumps in his chair. His entire body is covered in cuts, some shallow and some deep. His pale skin is coated in sticky blood, and he emptied his stomach a while ago. Drenched in sweat, exhausted and dehydrated, Ren is pushed past his limits. He never thought he would surrender even the tiniest bit of information, but here he is, giving in like a coward. Fresh tears leak from his eyes.

The man sheaths his blade and takes Ren’s chin in hand. “Does Deku know of your current operation?”

Ren exhales shakily and lies: “No.”

Deku is an incredibly powerful superhero. He went to school with Ren’s husband, Katsuki, and they were rivals for some time. Deku is too well known for undercover work and is much more suited for direct attacks. He’s taken out several outposts after Ren gave him names and locations. They’re not working together directly, but they both know of the danger said criminal organization poses. 

The man’s nails dig into his cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” He digs the thumb of his free hand into a deep gash in his side, and Ren’s mouth falls open in a wordless scream, his eyes rolling back. “Who else is involved?”

Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth from his bit tongue. “M’not… telling.”

The interrogator releases his chin and wraps his broad hand around his throat, squeezing tightly. Ren’s eyes fly open, and he struggles to breathe.

“I’ve been very patient,” the man begins, “And I appreciate what you’ve told me so far, but, frankly, it’s nothing I didn’t already know. Maybe I need to be more persuasive.”

Ren shakes his head a fraction of an inch, gaping like a fish out of water. He isn’t sure how much he can endure. He needs a break before he says something stupid. Black spots dance across his vision, and his lungs burn. Time passes impossibly long, and wet, sputtering gasps escape his lips. Eventually, just when he thinks he’s gonna pass out, the man releases his neck. Ren coughs, gulping down air, his vision blinded by tears. He feels so weak and pathetic. What kind of hero allows themselves to be caught and tortured? He doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself after this. If there even is an after. He doesn’t see any chance of escape, and what if no one rescues him?

Ren clenches his fists and steadies his breathing. He can’t lose hope. Katsuki will come for him. If not Katsuki, someone else. He won’t be left here to die. He just needs to hold out and keep his mouth shut.

The man returns to his side with a syringe in hand. He cocks his head and looks down at him with a faux-sympathetic smile. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Here, I’ve got something that’ll help you take your mind off it—and hopefully loosen your tongue.”

“No, no,” Ren protests, squirming in his bonds. He tries to crane his neck away from the needle, but the man grabs his hair and holds him still. Ren whimpers as the drugs are injected into his system, falling limp almost instantly. Whatever the interrogator has given him works fast, and the room begins to swirl. 

“Better, right?”The man pats his cheek, patronizing. “Now, about the data you collected. Mind sharing some names with me?”

Nausea washes over him in waves, and he squints against the lights. The cell is suddenly way too bright, and he moans. A fog settles over him, and he has a hard time remaining focused on his goal.

“What… what?” he mumbles.

The interrogator hums, frowning. “Might’ve given you too much there. It’s hard to determine the correct dose. I’m not used to administering to persons of such short stature.”

Ren isn’t listening, his attention shifting. He’s in so much pain. He just wants to be home with his husband, safe in bed, wrapped in his arms. What he wouldn’t give to see Katsuki’s face right now. 

The room rocks, and the interrogator stumbles. At first, Ren thinks it’s the drugs screwing with his vision and playing tricks on him, but then it happens again.

“Explosions…?” the man whispers, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Ren barks a laugh. Explosions! He’d recognize the sound anywhere. Katsuki is here!

He smiles at the interrogator, eyes bright. “You’re so fucked.”

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous, but written beforehand)

Deepcolor readjusted her glasses and leered at her canvas. Her usually-compliant azure pigment was rebelling, unwilling to cooperate with her guidance, and it frustrated her to no end, especially considering the portrait she was attempting-

“Hey, Deepcolor,” the Doctor whispered in her ear, and she nearly flipped everything over. Instead, she took a few measured breaths, and then she ran her brush across his face.

“Don’t scare me like that, Doctor,” she sighed. “Do you do this with everyone?”

He pulled off his mask and smiled. “Only my favorites. Whatcha working on?”

“Well, I heard your birthday was coming up, so I wanted to draw a portrait of you...but my blue is being too rebellious to do it with your normal clothes.”

“Well, there’s an easy fix for that, then.” The Doctor unzipped his jacket and tossed it to the side before sitting down across from her. “Your reds and yellows aren’t giving you trouble, are they?”

She smiled. “They’re behaving, at least. Have you had a portrait done before, Doctor?”

“I can’t say I remember,” he shrugged.

“It won’t be any trouble for me, but normally the artist would ask their subject to stay perfectly still.” Deep washed her brush, set aside her failed attempt, and began working on a new canvas. “I’d much rather you talk to me instead.”

The Doctor relaxed in his seat. “Sounds good to me. Anything in particular?”

“Whatever comes to mind.”

“Well, in that case,” his smile widened, “I wanna talk about you.”

Deepcolor stopped mid-stroke. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Would that be an issue? It’s just hard not to be thinking of you when you’re so close.”

“If it’s really what you want,” she shrugged, more than a little incredulous. “Go ahead.”

The Doctor did just that. “You seem to be equally talented with multiple art styles, but I've been trying to figure out your favorite for a while now. It’s interesting to see how your art has evolved since you arrived - at first they were mostly sketches of other Operators, but as you’ve gotten more comfortable with us, you’ve shown us your more personal works...particularly your abstractions. Each of them seems to be suggesting something, trying to move beyond its base canvas-bindings to communicate with the viewer, but their messages are always just out of reach-”

“I was wrong. I should have asked you to stay quiet.” Deepcolor had finished the outline, but her hands had started to shake so much she couldn’t continue.

“Oh?” He frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to mess with your process-”

She shook her head. “No, Doctor, you...I need to see them more closely.”

“See what?”

“Your eyes.” She removed her glasses as her irises, hair, and clothes all changed hue from reds and yellows to blue and purples. “The colors of your soul...Show them to me.”

The Doctor’s eyes began to sparkle. “I would be all too happy to, but not here. Somewhere more private.”

“Meet me in my room, then, Doctor...Come prepared.”

-

Half an hour later, after he’d changed completely out of his work clothes into a comfortable T-shirt-sweatpants combination, the Doctor knocked on her door. “Deepcolor? I’ve come.”

“Ah, but are you prepared?” A pseudopod opened the door, and on the other side was her domain - a chaotic place full of portraits and paintings, mesmerizing glimpses into the lives of others or some sinisterly seductive world beneath the world. He was entranced immediately. “Welcome, Doctor. My helper will escort you - I would have prepared a space for us, but I assumed you’d appreciate something more organic.”

“Even your mess is aesthetically inspiring,” he muttered.

She blushed as she waved her hand for a second tendril to close the door behind him. “Shall we get to our true purpose, then?”

“I want to know,” the Doctor calmly and utterly crazedly replied, nodding. “I want to know what you see and what you can show me. I want to know the meaning of your changing colors, of the worlds whose portals you open in your art...of the sudden acceleration of my heart when I see you, and the dreams you so prominently feature in, luring me to encounters and locales too exotic for my mind to comprehend.”

“You sound like Specter,” Deepcolor smiled, joining him on the couch he hadn’t noticed he’d been escorted to. She set her hand on his thighs to steady herself as she leaned as close as she could without touching him, peering past his eyes into the soul beneath them.

They sat like this, unmoving, for an unknowable amount of time before she collapsed onto him, wrapping around him with her limbs and, perhaps, an errant ‘helper.’ “I was so certain of what I would see, but to actually experience it...to be painted in your colors...”

“Deep,” he whispered, “tell me: are these your true colors?”

“Not all of them.”

He lightly pushed her into his direct line of sight. “Will you show me the rest?”

“Of course.”

“Then show me,” the Doctor smiled, pulling her close enough to kiss, “and let us blend together.”

The Doctor, it was safe to say, was not the same after that night. For one, he took up his own art - within a week, he’d written a novel, Infrared Illusions, which could be best described as a harrowing tale of one man’s Oripathy slowly but steadily altering his life into something unrecognizable; for another, Deepcolor was at his side every moment of the day, splitting her attentions between her craft and her muse with more focus on the latter. He no longer wore the hood on his jacket, and he grew his hair out, letting it tangle into an impossible-to-follow mess his lover would nonetheless perfectly capture in her oil paints. Whether it was love or madness - or perhaps both, if there is even a difference between the two - one thing was certain: the Doctor was happy, happier than anyone had seen him, and if that came with a few eccentricities...well, so long as Deepcolor could be appeased, there would be no quarrel.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

The Devil in Disguise, Pt. 2

Dean Winchester x Reader

Part 1

Summary: Dean’s on the run from escaping a prison where a job went south. Sam is in the wind. With nowhere to go and an injured leg, Dean takes refuge in the only place he could find—an old remote cabin. Normally empty for long stretches, Dean happens to stumble in the same day that the cabin’s owner returns. After a rocky first encounter, Dean comes to believe that a distant connection they share could be the thing that saves his life and gets him back to Sam. But will it happen before Y/N’s finance, a prison guard at Green River, finds the secret she’s hiding in the woods?

A/N: The fic was inspired by the song “The Devil’s Backbone” by The Civil Wars. This is part 2 of ?? written for multiple bingo cards that go for both chapters. Set around S2 (Folson Prison Blues). New tag lists are at the end of the fic. I have tag spots open, let me know if you want to jump on or off for SPN (Dean and/or Sam, or RPF for Jensen)

Warnings: (Part One): Language, Mild angst, Hints of abuse 

WC: 4.9K

*Banner created by me. I do not own any of these pictures.

[Y/N] stood at the foot of the bed and examined her handiwork of cleaning and properly bandaging Dean’s wound. All the while thinking about the “BOLO” that came over the CB. Sure this stranger said he knew Deacon, but did he? Was he really who he said he was? Her eyes flickered from the fevered man in the bed to the task she was currently taking on, trying to figure out what her instincts were telling her. When she was satisfied, she moved around the room, cleaning up the leftovers from the bandages, along with the jumpsuit and discarded them in a big black trash bag. Leaving it in the corner of the room, she returned to the foot post, and leaned on it, wrapping both hands tightly around the frame. 

“Ok, you're patched up, you’ve got penicillin and soup is on the stove. Time to tell me a story, Dean. What was the job at the prison?” 

Dean used the strength in his upper arms to sit up straighter on the bed and watched her curiously for a beat before speaking. She wished she could read his thoughts and know exactly what he was considering, but all she could hope for would be his full cooperation and the complete truth.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” he asked simply, and leaned back against the old, wrought iron bedpost. 

Her eyes snapped up quickly. “Ghosts?”

“Yeah. I don’t mean Casper the friendly, either. I’m talking about vengeful ones. Ones that use their anger to kill people.”

[Y/N] felt her throat run dry and was grateful she was already holding onto the iron arch of the frame. “Yeah,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “I believe in ‘em.”

“That makes this easier…” he mumbled to himself before continuing, “but the truth is, doesn’t matter if you believe. Because they’re real. So are vampires, werewolves, demons… all the nasty, vile monsters you can think of… all real and the prison had one that was killing inmates. Deacon called on us to help get rid of it.”

“Deacon… of course,” she whispered almost incoherently and expelled a long, slow breath. 

“You never did say how you knew him,” Dean said, and shrugged defensively when her gaze snapped back at him, flashing a warning not press his luck. “Just sayin’...”

“I’ve known Deacon since I was a kid. He used to come to my dad’s church.” There was so much more to it, but she wasn’t ready to share all her intel. “So, continue… ghost in the prison…”

“Right, so, Deacon called us in to figure out who it was. He thought we could get more info as prisoners then he ever would as the warden. The spook was going after his guys, he had to do something.”

“But you must have done something to get yourselves locked up. Deacon couldn’t just smuggle two people into Green River and pass them off as prisoners, warden or not. So, just breaking in somewhere was enough to get you thrown in prison? You were a little vague on the charges.”

“That’s… complicated and not relevant here. What is, is that we figured out who the ghost was, and Deacon was breaking us out to go--”

“Salt and burn…” she said, not meaning to interrupt but her blank expression and clouded eyes told Dean that she was suddenly lost a memory.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “How did you--are you a hunter?”

“Huh? What? No,” she stammered and pushed off the iron frame. “No, not a hunter, but I know what hunters are.”

“How?”

“Story for another time,” she said, waving him off. “Please. continue… how did you go from Deacon breaking you out, to bleeding in my cabin while pointing my own gun at me?”

“He opened a panel for us to escape through, was going to bring us out the rear exit. We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere and went out the wrong doors. Shit went sideways fast, had to improvise and we got separated. Sam took off in the direction of the cemetery where the body was buried and my only way out was the other direction. Spotlights caught me as I hit the tree line and got shot. Ran as far as I could… damn near through the night. Now here I am.”

[Y/N] just nodded slowly, as if she was trying to comprehend everything he was telling her. She began to pace the room, but not with any vigor. It was methodical and slow, each step seemed to be taken with a thoughtful purpose as she went over his story in her mind. 

“Who was it?” she asked finally, looking up to meet the pair of dull green eyes looking back. She had a moment where she wondered how they would actually shine when their owner was bogged down with fever because even as muted as they were, they were still beautiful.

“A nurse who died in a prison riot years ago. They started construction on an old wing of the unit, and it stirred her up.”

“Oh,” [Y/N] mused, then settled on the end of the bed, the opposite side of where Dean lay. She brought her knee up to rest on the mattress and twisted her body to face him. 

“And your brother… he took care of it?”

“I sure hope so. I’m hoping he found his way to the car and got over there. Kinda hard to check up on that, though.” He motioned towards his leg, his whole expression shrugging with a hint of exhausted sarcasm.

“What cemetery?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to check, that’s why. You may not be able to, but I can. I need to do a supply run to town anyway. So, which cemetery.”

“Uh… Green Valley, but… lady… I don’t think its a good idea. Our PD, if she was forced to talk, that place is gonna be swimming in uniforms.”

“It's fine. I have family buried there. I can always say I’m going to visit them. What was the nurses’ name?”

���Glockner,” Dean replied but shook his head as he did. “It's okay. I’m sure Sam got there to take care of it. Right now he’s probably free and clear and freaking out trying to figure out where I am.”

“[Y/N],” she spoke up softly. “My name is [Y/N].”

“Thanks for saving my ass, [Y/N],” Dean smiled, relieved.

“Thanks for not shooting me, Dean.”

Across the queen size bed, they shared a brief, yet slightly intense gaze before each of them broke away. [Y/N] found him intriguing, and without doubt, believed what he was telling her. Her instincts may have been quiet before, but after hearing what he had to say, and knowing what she knew about Deacon, [Y/N] knew that she could believe his story. Besides, with Dean’s confidence in the man’s voucher, she really felt that she could trust what he was saying. That made her want to do whatever she could to help him get better, and then get back to his brother. 

“Where can I find your brother?” she asked. “Where’s home? Would he go there?”

“Home is long gone. We never stay any place too long.”

“Damn. Then how do I find him?”

Dean thought for a minute. All their usual ways of communication after separation wouldn’t work. He figured Sam would have a new burner by now, but not like he could get the number. Any cop in a hundred-mile radius would be looking for the Impala, and even Deacon was most likely being watched like a hawk. 

“Right now, I don’t think we can. Let me fight off this bitch of an infection, and then when my head is clear, I can figure things out.”

“Okay,” she relented and went to stand from the bed. Before she reached the doorway that led to the kitchen, she turned and faced him one last time. “You can stay as long as you need to. Take this room. I’ll stay in the loft. But, Dean... “

“Yeah?”

“If you ever point my own gun, or any gun at me again, I won’t hesitate to shoot you once I get it back.”

Twenty-four hours later, and Dean’s fever was still ragging. He was semi-aware of her sitting in the rocker placed in the corner for good stretches of the night, and when the sun peeked through the thin lace curtains it caused black spots to pulse behind his eyes. Somehow, [Y/N] could tell, and she moved to pull the heavier curtain closed.

Dean was also vaguely aware that she kept putting a cool cloth to his forehead and checked his leg a few times. At some point during the long night, he remembered wondering why she was going through all this instead of just getting on her CB and bringing the cops to her door.

Even with no clock present, when Dean finally came fully to consciousness, he could tell that it was sometime in the early afternoon. The birds weren’t as loud, and the brightness of the day had moved higher in the sky. He was able to push himself up to sitting, though it caused a burst of pain to ripple through his injured leg. 

“Sonofabitch!” Dean grunted through gritted teeth, as he tried to swing the leg off the bed. The motion of which caused a swirl of blurry vision, his head swimming in static and black spots again. “Nope,” he said to himself and moved his leg back to where it had been. 

Dean was still for a few minutes, making sure the pain evened out and that he wasn’t going to pass out again. Once he was sure he could focus, he listened closely to any sounds coming from out in the cabin. 

It was silent. But that’s when he noticed the folded scrap of paper sitting on the bedside that had his name written in a blunt, but feminine script.

Dean,

Making a supply run. Stay put. If you can manage to move, there’s cold water in the fridge. If not, there’s a room temp bottle and your meds by this note. Also a protein bar. See if you can choke that down. Be back soon.

[Y/N]

She had done as promised, and left the water bottle and pills behind the note, along with the protein bar. Dean felt himself smile despite his deteriorating condition. He made quick work of powering through the food, pills, and water, and then settled back onto the bed and closed his eyes. When they fluttered open again, the sun continued its descent into the sky, and when he peeked out of the curtains again, there was a soft twinge of pink and orange sky acting as a backdrop to the autumn colored trees. 

Noise from the kitchen snapped his attention back, and he instinctively reached under the pillow for a gun that wasn’t there. He had just enough time to register a slew of curses in his mind when the bedroom door opened and [Y/N] stood there with a tray, and a pleased smile on her lips. 

“Welcome back,” she smiled and moved over to the bed, carefully setting the tray down on the open side, then moving towards Dean to help prop him up. 

He waved her off and was able to get himself to sitting, but his eyes, not so dull anymore, watched her carefully. 

“Why are you doing all this? What do you get out of it?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity over her generous nature. 

“I don’t get anything out of it other than helping you not die. But I am doing this because I believe you,” she said, and delicately lifted the material of the sweatpants to check on his wound. “When I was ten, I thought I saw a ghost in my dad’s church.” She paused, and seemed satisfied with how the bandages looked, and carefully pulled the pant leg back down. She retrieved the tray, kicked open the legs on it and placed it carefully over Dean’s lap as she continued her story. 

“Scared the shit out of me, and of course, he didn’t believe me. People started getting hurt. Workers who were repainting the outside of the rectory… an old lady pushed down the stairs by some unseen force. Stuff like that.”

Dean nodded in understanding and made the attempt to eat the soup and crackers she brought him. 

“Anyway, after the maintenance guy died, that’s when things got even weirder.”

“Weirder how?”

“Deacon had been a member of the parish for as long as I can remember. Never really thought much of him except for he was a Marine and that he worked at the jail. Nice guy, always smiled at me on Sundays. One night, I was hiding in the pews, reading some crap I shouldn’t have been, and I heard Deacon and some guy with him, arguing with my dad. Something about needing to burn something. Whatever Deacon wanted… some kind of old jewelry that was kept in the church safe… Dad refused. I was scared because I distinctly remember that guy with Deacon saying that unless they did, the spirit wouldn’t rest and could eventually kill the preacher, or even his family.”

Dean’s mind was racing a mile a minute. Despite the fever that had been stifling much logical thought in the last day, he was able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. 

“That guy, what did he look like?”

“Why is that important?”

“It just is!” he snapped, and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry… can you just try and remember?”

[Y/N] closed her eyes and went back in her memories. “He was tall, dark hair, dark eyes. Not a beard exactly, but more than a few days beard, you know? He had these crazy dimples, too. I remember thinking they were as big as craters.”

“Holy shit,” Dean snorted in disbelief. “I think that was my dad. Was his name, John?” Her attention snapped back up and he could tell just by the look on her face that it was.

“Yeah, his name was John. He’s how I know what hunters are. That night, after my dad locked up, I stayed in the church. I was so scared of a ghost killing me that I went and stole the necklace from the safe. I rode my bike all the way to Deacon’s house and he was super pissed to see me there. Until I pulled it from my pocket…”

“Lemme guess... my dad snatched it from you and barked at you to go home?”

“Close, but not quite. I got to hear a snippet of their conversation, first. John said something about salting and burning the bones and that it didn’t work. The necklace had to be the link. Then he barked at me to go home.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I went home. Deacon and I never spoke of it again, but he always looked at me a little differently on Sundays. Almost like he was proud.”

“So, that’s why you believed me so easily. That talk doesn’t always go very smoothly for civilians.”

“Yeah well, guess you lucked out running into me then, huh?”

Dean exhaled steadily through slightly pursed lips and nodded. “You ain’t kiddin’.”

“I grabbed better meds for you in town this morning. Try and eat some and then you can take those. If that can bring your temperature down I think you’ll be alright. I checked your leg while you were sleeping, changed the bandages. You got lucky the bullet went clean through.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this, really.”

“It’s nothing. Just eat and rest.” 

She turned to leave and Dean realized he didn’t want her too. He wanted her to stay and talk to him; he liked when she was around. Maybe it was because they had some sort of distant connection through Deacon, or maybe it was simply because of her. Most likely, it was just his fever making him not want to be alone. But right then, he wanted nothing more than for her to stay and sit beside him.

“[Y/N], wait... “ he paused, leaning forward from the pillows until she turned around and slowly brought her (y/c) eyes to meet his. “Would you stay? Keep me company, maybe?”

She paused at the door, her left hand slowly sliding down the old wood trim of the frame. Dean saw her body relax a little, and when she finally turned back around to face him, her features were softer than they had been before. He was struck, not for the first time, by how beautiful she was in the dim light of the room’s light. When she turned and went back to the rocker in the corner, then dragged it closer to the bed, Dean happily leaned back against the pillows, relieved she was staying and worked on consuming the food she brought him.

The next morning, Dean woke with his head clearer than it had been since getting shot in the first place. Overnight he had sweat straight through the shirt he had borrowed and would just about kill for a clean one; maybe even a shower.

[Y/N] knocked lightly on the door before opening it just enough to talk through. 

“Decent?” she asked and waited for a response before entering.

“Yeah, good,” Dean replied. Once she was in, he approached the idea of a shower. “So, what are the chances I’m healed enough to take a hot shower?”

“I doubt you could stand on that long enough without support of some kind.”

Dean groaned and rolled his head back. “Dammit. I feel like I’ve been slimed. Just, head to toe gross. You know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine. I could pull a kitchen chair into the bathroom, you could give yourself a sponge bath at least.”

Dean bit his tongue from replying with some half sarcastic, half flirtatious comment. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’ll set it up for you, then I was going to get a fire going. Wanted to see if maybe you wanted to venture from the room today. Seems like maybe your fever broke overnight. Getting up and moving around would be good for you; a little of it, anyway.”

“I’m all for it,” he smiled, genuinely excited for both the change of scenery and the chance to spend more time with her. 

“Great. We really need to figure out a plan here, too,” she said softly followed by a side-eyed glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean. He even thought maybe, she looked a little disappointed. She wasn’t always the easiest person to read and he had only known her through fevered days so far. Despite all that, Dean could feel his sharp senses returning, and they were telling him this girl was one he could both count on and trust.

[Y/N] disappeared into the bathroom, and could be heard moving some things around, then reappeared. She seemed like she was about to speak when they both heard it. 

A running motor. The sound of a door being slammed closed. 

“Shit!”

Her eyes went wide with fear, and Dean felt his heart sink but his survival instinct kicked in. As quickly as he could move, he twisted his hips and let both legs fall to the floor. Standing quickly, a little too quickly, the wounded leg instantly buckled, but [Y/N] was right there to catch him. Dean slung an arm over her shoulders as she helped him limp across the floor.

“What? Do you know who it is?” he asked through the bolts of pain that coursed up his body from the sudden movement on his leg.

“Yeah, it could only be Derek,” she said, her stomach instantly going sour. 

“Derek?”

“My finance. Also, prison guard a Green River.”

“Well shit,” Dean huffed as she opened the bathroom door and nearly shoved him inside. “Talk about a coincidence.”

Ignoring his quip, she tried to think about what was her best course of action. “The linen closet is deep enough for you to stand in. Go in and shut the door. It can be locked from the inside. Lock it and not a sound,” she whispered desperately. 

Dean nodded and limped his way carefully to the linen closet. [Y/N] dashed about the room, cleaning up any remnants of the escapee’s presence and tossed it under the bed. Her heart was racing, her hands were trembling with fear; not just for Derek possibly discovering Dean, but for her own safety as well. 

Just as she finished hiding the evidence, and stepped into the kitchen, the front door to the cabin opened and the man she least wanted to see was making his entrance.

“You forget how to answer your phone all of a sudden?!” he barked, taking several hulking steps through the living room and into the kitchen.

“You know I don’t get service up here,” she replied calmly, an amazing feat given how badly she was shaking internally. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

Derek snorted in exasperation. “Are you dumb?! Didn’t you hear the CB at least?”

[Y/N] refrained from responding harshly, knowing it would only set him off more. “I may have been outside. Or on a supply run. What’s so important that I have to know?”

“Prisoners escaped. Two of ‘em,” he replied and rubbed a hand over his face down to his beard, something he only did when he was frustrated. Letting his hand fall back at his side with a slap against his outer thigh. “Pack your shit, I came up here to bring you home. No reason that you need to be up here with two escapees on the loose and weather rollin’ in.” 

“Haven’t seen a sign of any escapees this far out,” she shrugged absently, going about unloading the extra supplies she had grabbed when she went to town earlier. This didn’t go unnoticed by Derek. 

“Seems like quite the stockpile for one person for a weekend,” he grumbled, eyeing up the box of supplies on the table. “Might as well put them all back in, 'cause you’re leaving with me now.”

[Y/.N]’s head whipped around and up to meet Derek’s dark and brooding gaze. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, it’s why I’m here. You didn’t answer, so I came to get you. This is no place for a girl to be, especially alone, with two escaped felons on the loose.”

Derek grabbed her arm roughly, but her quick reflexes kicked in before he could solidify his grip. 

“First off, I am not a girl, I am a perfectly capable woman. Second, don’t you ever grab me like that again. I warned you, Derek. I am not going to be some pushover you can boss around.”

Their eyes locked and for a brief moment, she didn’t know if he would relent or go to grab her again, so she prepared herself just in case. Derek’s large frame relaxed as he backed off, pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, and plopped down into it.

“What the Hell are you doin’ up here [Y/N]. Ain’t nothing up here for you but a bunch of cobwebs and bad memories. There are two escaped felons, and we ain’t talkin’ bout no drug charges or simple B ‘n E. They were in for murder… grave desecration. These are two really sick sons of bitches. Weather’s rollin’ in on top of it. Just seems dumb to be up here when it ain’t necessary.”

[Y/N] went back to unpacking her supplies midway through his exasperated rant. Doing her best to ignore the word murder, she did her best to focus on the supplies and ignore Derek’s concentrated gazed watching her every move. 

“But yet, you’re still unpackin’. Do I gotta call your daddy? Get him up here to put you in your place?” Derek asked his questions and averted his eyes, keeping them transfixed on the side of the box before slowly bringing them back up to see the fear he had hoped to see on her face. When there wasn’t a trace of it, his brow furrowed and he tilted his head curiously. “What? Preacher Steve doesn’t put the fear of God in you anymore?”

[Y/N] snorted a laugh and took out the last can of tomato paste before she finally turned back to give him her full attention. She leaned in, dangerously close to her fiance and knew that what she was about to say could earn her a pop in the mouth. But something about spending the last forty-eight hours with Dean Winchester had somehow instilled the ability to not give a fuck.

“Fuck. You,” she whispered, a slight, rueful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll be back to town when I fucking feel like it. If you’re bored, Derek, call Rita from work. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to assist you with whatever you need. Now, get out.”

Her knowing glare unnerved Derek, making him shift uncomfortably. He waited another beat and stood from the old wooden chair that groaned gratefully as he removed his hefty size from its worn frame. He wanted to say something--drew in a breath to do just that--but the crackle of the radio he wore on his hip made him stop, and simply expel the air in a huff and reach for the walkie as the voice on the other end was unintelligible when mixed with the static of the shitty reception.

“I’ll go. But I won’t be gone long. When I come back,  you’re coming home.” As he went to leave, he was about to press the button to reply, but paused and turned back around. “If you see or hear anything suspicious, you pick up the damn CB and call me!”

Ignoring his command, she turned her back to him and started putting away the cans of food into the pantry. 

“Did you hear me?!” he bellowed, making her shoulders stiffen and a shiver at the sharpness of his tone run down her spine. 

“Yes, Derek,” she replied without turning around. Gripping the counter with white knuckles, she waited until she heard the slam of the front door before exhaling the breath she didn’t realize she was holding it. 

“Goddammit,” she whispered and let her head fall between her shoulders. The entire interaction left her feeling cold and lost in a place she hadn’t gone to in years. But now, thanks to the man she was supposed to be marrying, she was knee-deep in memories that clawed at her insides to come spilling out. 

[Y/N] didn’t hear Dean emerge from the bathroom, nor did she hear him limp his way across the bedroom, then out into the kitchen. She was so lost in the recesses of her early years on the Earth, that she didn’t even feel his presence until he was standing right behind her. She didn’t jump or scare, she simply looked up into his furrowed, curious brow, and kind green eyes, and laid her head against his chest. 

“You heard all that?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,”’  he rasped, “I heard. What I don’t get is why the Hell you would marry a douchebag like that.” 

“Long story, not one I particularly feel like telling at the moment.” She regrettably moved her head off his chest and caught his briefly caught his gaze. 

His eyes were slightly narrowed on her, his brow still showing lines of concern, and his full lips were set in a contemplative pout. She thought maybe the instinct to rest her head on him had soured him towards her. 

“Sorry,” she said, feeling suddenly stupid and quickly busying herself with the task at hand. 

She saw Dean wobble from the corner of her eye and dropped the cans she was holding onto help steady him. He draped an arm around her shoulder and she when she helped him sit in one of the kitchen chairs, he passed her a grateful smile. 

“Sorry for what?” he asked, wincing at the pain radiating from his leg. 

She crouched down and saw the fresh blood coming through the leg of his pants. “For… I don’t know… a moment of weakness I guess. One of your stitches popped,” she said changing the subject. “Sit tight. Let me get the first aid kit and patch this up. Then maybe I can wrap it and you can get that shower.”

[Y/N] started walking into the bedroom to retrieve the supplies that had been kicked under the bed in a rush when Dean reached out and caught her wrist. 

“Hey, you have nothing to say sorry for. Everything you’ve done for me…” he trailed off and shrugged, his expressive lips pushing up into a small, cocky smirk. “...least I can do is give you a place to lay your weary head.”

She snorted a laugh and shook her head. Despite his pallid complexion and current pain levels, Dean was flirting with her. Whether it was just to elicit a smile after the recent encounter with Derek, or because he was genuinely flirting, she didn’t know. Truth is, she didn’t care. She liked having him around and realized then and there that she would do whatever she had to in order to help him get better and get back to his brother.

Everything Tags: @sorenmarie87 // @yallgotkik

SPN Tags: @kazosa // @wings-of-a-raven // @closetspngirl // @idreamofplaid// @screechingartisancashbailiff // @linki-locks11 // @winchesterxfamilybusiness// @spnhollis // @sandlee44 // @stoneyggirl // @clarinette07 // @negans-wife // @deans-baby-momma // @hobby27 // @breereadsthings // @katehuntington // @81mysteriouslyme // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @deathofmissjackson // @lauravic // @aomi-nabi // @akshi8278 // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare// @coffeebooksandfandom // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @fictionalabyss// @adoptdontshoppets // @blackcherrywhiskey // @babypieandwhiskey // @maddiepants // @lefthologramdeer // @his-paradox // @unlikelygalaxygiver

[cypher-of-the-night]

Biography: Naoki Enjo

“Ah-re-re~? You're mistaken. Because.. You are my muse, right?”

~

Full name: Enjo, Naoki

Kanji: 円城, 直生

Meaning: Naoki - Honest Life; Enjo - Round Castle

Nickname(s):

Nao-chan (by Yui),

AOKI (as an Underground Rapper and Stage name),

Xiu-Lan Jiang (Real Name)

Age: 16

Birthday: December 20th

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Ethnicity: Chinese

Nationality: Japanese

Status: Alive

Race: Human?

Gender: Female

Height: 149 cm (4'11")

Weight: 49 kg (108 Ib)

Hair color: Black, with blue, pink, white streaks (Naturally black)

Eye color: Pink

Blood Type: O

Occupation: 1st Year High School Student

Relatives: Riki Enjo (adoptive father), Ying-Yue Jiang (ancestral foremother), Yuuichi Kuroi (distant relative)

Place: Sakamaki Household

Favorite Food: Anything.

Hobbies: Rapping.

Seiyuu: Asami Tano ( Saki Nikaido from Zombieland Saga ) (Talking / Singing)

English Voice: Amber Lee Connors (Toy Chica from Five Night’s at Freddy’s) (Talking, 1/2)

Significant Other/Keeper: Subaru Sakamaki

~

Personality:

Naoki is an energetic, eccentric, and bold girl, with her biggest strength being honesty and an extremely extrovert personality. While it is initially assumed that she has a highly poor academic record due to her disinterest in studying, Naoki is actually highly intelligent to a point it could even rival with Reiji’s, due to being strictly raised in a traditional, political household where she had high expectations to excel at everything. Upon feeling suffocated by formalities, traditions, and high expectations by her adoptive father, She has always desired freedom and to find a place where she is allowed to be who she is.

This desperate wish became the sole reason she recklessly accepted Karlheinz’s offer which exchanges the freedom she seeks, and this is why she willingly stays with the Sakamaki brothers and follows their rules instead of escaping or resisting. Even upon becoming a sacrificial bride and choosing Subaru, and when he attempt to fluster Naoki by commenting how she looked like she was trying to say that she wants to become his woman by wanting him to suck her blood, Naoki took this seriously as an offer from Subaru and happily agreed to become his woman, which made him flustered instead; This is because Naoki highly despised her arranged (and highly abusive) fiancé and is willing to be Subaru’s woman to keep herself away from her ex-fiancé. Even if Subaru himself becomes the one that hurts her instead.

Despite the abuse by the hand of her adoptive father and her fiancé, Naoki finds salvation upon discovering and falling in love with rap music, which helped her get by emotionally. Her source of strength comes from rap, as she aspires o become a rapper, and wishes to dominate the nation with her music as it is what kept her to stay strong and hopes it would impact other’s lives and help them stay strong.

Despite her lively personality, Naoki admits that she does not fear death. Because of her stressful childhood to be the “perfect daughter” with high expectations before discovering rap music, she had already come to terms to accepting death as there has been many times where what her father and her fiancé has put her through has made her want to succumb to death; It isn’t until by the Maniac arc of the HDB Saga where she begins to fear death because of Subaru.

She also loves food to a point where she won’t mind eating anything and when asked about her favorite food, she would reply with “All of the above”. Despite having always being top of her class, Naoki has Thalassophobia, an intense and persistent fear of the sea or of sea travel, due to traumatizing experiences that almost drowned her multiple times caused and exploited by her arranged fiancé when they were younger.

~

Strengths: Patience, endurance, devotion, fast-learner, observant, highly intelligent, wise, bright, athletic, extroverted, persepctive, hard-working, kind-hearted, protective, goal-oriented, empathetic, playful, a realist, optimistic, friendly, supportive, serious when needed, self-confident, fun-loving, open, and expressive.

Flaws: Stubborn, persistent, big eater, highly curious, strong-willed, passive, has Thalassophobia (an intense and persistent fear of the sea or of sea travel), outspoken, rebellious (to an extent), fearful of her father and ex-fiance, confused, mostly fearless (has no fear of dying), lazy when it comes to studies, hasty (whenever she does feels fear), skeptical when she can see through facades, exasperating at times, slightly naive when it comes to social affairs, tend to get panic and anxious whenever it comes to her past (including her ex-fiancé and her adoptive father), lonely, unwittingly yet emotionally dependent, and sometimes silly.

Skills: Rapping, writing music, dancing, baking, is able to speak Chinese, English, and Korean, her intelligence (has even gotten a higher score than Reiji's), has high patience, high stamina, a fast runner, enhanced sense of smell, slightly stronger than normal humans, good listening skills, reading people and their emotions, skilled at playing on the piano, singing (she doesn’t like to sing), has good flexibility, charisma, negotiation skills, has slow but steady healing, quick thinker, surprisingly observant, and is slowly getting good at housework.

~

History:

For as long as she can remember, Enjo Naoki was raised in a strict household with a politician as a father by the name of “Enjo Riki”. Being the only daughter, she was always pressured to have the image of the perfect child that is expected to obey, to never talk back or complain, and to push past her own limits to meet the high expectations placed upon her. He even forces her to take a daily routine of classes every early morning, forces her on a diet, and places her in prestigious, all-girl schools where she is surrounded by snobbish, rich girls. While she wished to believe her father secretly did care for her, Riki disregards her as a tool and only uses her to gain more political power; His desire for power in the political world runs deep to a point he arranges an political marriage for Naoki to a business partner’s son, Mizushima Satoshi, who was Naoki’s tormentor ever since childhood and was even the person responsible for Naoki’s Thalassophobia by pushing and even throwing her off the boat into the ocean where there were cases where she almost drowns. Even when they both get older into teenagers, Satoshi torment her by touching her sexually; Which causes Naoki to develop genophobia (fear of sexual relations or sexual intercourse). Naoki was never able to talk about it with her father, knowing he would not listen as it would risk losing power he needs to obtain from the marriage.

Due to the neglect and abuse, Naoki held no hope in life or miracles and even considered taking her own life as she saw no reason for her to continue living. Which explains why she does not fear death as she deemed the life she lived as a fate worse than hell. That was until she discovers rap music. At first, she was confused upon the beats of the music; But would come to find comfort in the lyrics to the song as it told life stories about hardship in life. Naoki would later to become more open-minded, which would even help expand her horizons once she encounters a promotion of an anime character with a punk rock style that she was starstrucked by. It was then Naoki began to find salvation to help her keep living, and when she started to get herself involve with rap.

For a while, Naoki would begin to act rebellious, claiming to go to the library to study when in actuality she would secretly go out to research rap music and would join a unit with other underground rappers. After performing a song she rapped in front of a group of people, Naoki received a self-made bracelet from a little girl, who became the petite girl’s first fan. From this experience, Naoki would start to feel like she has finally start to fit in after many years of feeling lost and outcasted, and start to find herself passionate about becoming a rapper herself, with the dream of saving people with her music the same way rap music saved her in her time of need.

However, due to anonymous tip, Riki finds out about Naoki’s activities, forbids her from continuing her activities, and decided to make arrangements to keep her home until she is to be moved to her fiancé’s mansion, even decided to throw out everything involving her activities which also included the bracelet; Finally snapping, Naoki defies her father for the first time and attempted to stand up for herself until her father slaps her before calling her a disappointment, that it was a mistake having a daughter, and leaves her.

Conflicted, Naoki is torn about what to do. Until she is told to run away by a voice. Once the voice told her to leave a few more times, Naoki’s resolution solidified and attempted to run away past midnight; However, she gets caught in the sights of guards hired by her father as he knew Naoki would attempt to run away. She continued to run until she gets trapped in an alley with a dead end with a twisted ankle and was even forced to hide in a dirty dumpster from the guards that arrived after hearing her voice from twisting her ankle. While hiding, Naoki prayed for them not to find her and was saved what she believed was a dog, which didn’t seem to be the case judging by the guards questioning what it was before they escaped once rain began to pour. After they left, Naoki realizes that she has nowhere else to go as the guards continued searching for her in the places she initially planned of going. Resorting to sleep out in the rain, She was encountered by another politician she knows of that she remembers as her father’s rival in the political world: Sakamaki Tougo.

At first, she was hesitant to trust him in fear he would contact her father; But after offering to keep her far from her father and promising her the freedom she yearned for in exchange for her cooperation to help him by living with his sons, Naoki accepted him upon one condition: to allow her to become the person she wants to be rather than someone she isn’t, to become the rapper she dreamed of becoming. Tougo accepted that condition and even spoiled her by giving her her dream appearance (punk-rock clothes, streaks in her hair, etc). Because of this, Naoki viewed Tougo as her savior, solidify her trust in him, and is heavily indebted to him which would later affect her life with the Sakamaki brothers; However, once she started to live with the Sakamaki’s, Naoki began to find out hidden truths about her life that would later come to surface.

The reason why Tougo, who was actually the Vampire King Karlheinz, decided to take her in was because he was actually using her as the other Eve, in case the resurrection of his first wife, Cordelia, in Komori Yui’s body succeed. And Naoki‘s heart was a male first-blood’s, by the name of Asher; Thus, Tougo’s promises to ensure her safety and to give her her freedom were all empty promises to gain her respect and loyalty for her cooperation into the plan, even taking advantage of her situation into his favor. Naoki was actually born to a Chinese clan of human vampire hunters with the first-blood blood in their veins, due to their foremother ancestor, Jiang Ying-Yue; Ying-Yue was the original host of the first-blood’s heart (whom was also her lover in her former life as a human), who went by the name of Asher, was a originally human before turning into a vampire after she gave birth to a human son that carried Asher’s blood. Due to herself staying hidden for many centuries to hide from Karlheinz under her first-blood lover’s instructions, Ying-Yue was given the nickname “Lilith”, who was known to be the first wife of Adam but leaves him after she refuses to become subservient to him (in a similar sense where Ying-Yue refuses to let herself become experimented as an Eve to Karlheinz’s plan); However, their secret was revealed when one of their clan’s members was kidnapped by a vampire who found out about the truth of their blood. In fear that the clan will be targeted, The ancestor initially thought about giving Asher’s heart to a male host; However, She decided to give the first-blood’s heart to an infant Naoki, who was born by the name of “Jiang Xiu-Lan” and had a weak heart similar to the condition Ying-Yue had when she was human, to save her and send her to Japan to keep her safe from the tragedy. After Naoki was taken to Japan to an orphanage, her clan was massacred by Japanese vampire hunters under orders by a former associate: Kuroi Tsurara. It was even revealed that Riki actually adopted her in secret due the truth being that he had infidelity problems, and only chose to adopt her due to her high intelligence surpassing those of the other children and looking similar like him, making her perfect to him to use.

It is revealed that Asher was the voice heard by Naoki in her time of need, as her guardian to keep her sanity in check. It is revealed that, throughout her entire life, Naoki has been unwittingly and emotionally dependent on the first-blood, especially whenever she felt like she was going to snap. This is why Naoki did not go crazy even after everything she has been through in her life, as the first-blood was the reason she remains grounded as her conscience. They have even met during Naoki’s childhood within her dreams, where Naoki calls him “Papa” as she was never allowed to call Riki; However, as she got older, Naoki began to forget the memories of those dreams, and by extension, Asher; Believing that Asher was an imaginary friend she made up due to her lonely childhood. But even after being put to sleep and chained until the day Naoki breaks her chains when the time came, Asher will remain a father-figure to her and be there in her time of need like he always has.

~

Trivia:

• Naoki knows how to repair and patch holes on walls; This is because, whenever she was alone, she would accidentally punch a wall out of frustration from her stressful life; Fearing of being punished, Naoki would hide the damage before fixing the wall herself before her father would come home to notice the damage. She has even punched a hole in walls at school in private before fleeing the scene to resume her day before she could get caught. She viewed this as a parallel of attempting to fix the broken pieces in her heart. She even admits that, had it also not been for rap music to calm her down, Naoki would began to resort to violence and destruction. This is one of the biggest reasons why Naoki empathized with Subaru and doesn’t stop him whenever he causes damages, even helps fix and patch the walls no matter how many times he breaks them. 

This is also how Naoki gets Reiji off her back about her choice of style as she is the only one (besides Yui) that even does anything to help clean up the messes made by his brother. Of course, when asked about it, Naoki refers to cleaning everything as part of her repayment to Tougo.

• Despite her disinterest in studying, Naoki still continues to try hard in order to graduate; Even willing to take notes on subjects she already knows to give to Subaru to help him improve. It is because of this that their teachers, that once given up on Subaru, relying on her to ensure his grades improves. While she does try to help him, the progress is slow and has only gotten him to just barely passing.

• While Naoki considers Subaru as her first love, Asher confesses that Naoki did love Karlheinz, as Togo Sakamaki, for saving her life, but hidden it as she considered it a childish crush; However, this could just be something Asher made up in order to provoke Cordelia once they meet in their respective hosts’ body.

• During the time between the Haunted Dark Bridal Saga and the More Blood Saga of their friendship, it has been decided by Naoki that she will pick out Subaru’s clothes for him; As they wear a very similar style.

• Naoki’s real name is Xiu-Lan Jiang (Jiang Xiu-Lan; 江 秀兰), which respectively mean “Beautiful Orchid” and “River”; Which is ironic considering her immense fear of the sea and her favorite color being lavender.

• Asher reveals a dangerous aspect of killing him from within Naoki’s body even if Naoki lives: If He dies, Naoki will experience imbalance from within psychologically, causing a severe loss of identity/an unstable sense of self. Due to Asher being the reason why Naoki has not gone mentally insane from depression, stress, compulsiveness, and anxiety caused by the abusive environment from her childhood, his existence within her is essential to keep her at bay as she has been unwittingly dependent of him emotionally. This becomes heavily apparent in Naoki’s brutal ending in the Haunted Dark Bridal Saga.

• By the Dark Fate saga, Naoki is revealed to be a human with slightly enhanced skills; This is due to Ying-Yue Jiang, her foremother and Asher’s lover, becoming the first carrier of the first-blood’s heart; Before she turned into a vampire, She had sexual intercourse with another human in an arranged marriage to produce an heir, which lead to conceiving a human child that would later start a new family line of human with first-blood ancestry from Ying-Yue carrying Asher’s heart before the child was conceived; Thus, Naoki is a human with first-blood ancestry. But due to never training like the past clan members, Naoki is considerably weak and is only strong when Asher lends her his strength.

Asher reveals that because the child was born from two humans, despite his blood running through its veins, they can not possess magic, transform, or summon familiars like a first-blood; Instead, because of his blood, The child was stronger, quicker, and healed faster than an average human, along with inheriting the ability to sense vampires and invisible familiars. This is why the clan turned into one with phenomenal vampire hunters as, while they can’t see them, they can sense their presence, using those abilities to their advantages. Which is something that she can do, but not as well at due to lack of training.

Asher also reveals that due to her being a descendant that was born with his blood, once she becomes a vampire, She can, not only use his strength, but also use Asher’s heart and his blood as his hostess to assist her into unlocking her own potential and can awaken all of the basic/passive abilities for a First Blood by a century at the latest; However, due to only being born as a human with first-blood ancestry, Asher himself admits while the process is not that imminent and might take more than a thousands of years, but it should not be impossible to do if she was a vampire, turned or not, and focused hard on training.

• Naoki reveals to wear a padded bra, which is why her flat-chest looks bigger in her clothes, despite the fact that she is perfectly comfortable with her flat chest.

* The reason for this is because her adoptive father ordered her to wear only padded bras so that she may be viewed as “presentable” in public, finding her to be flat-chested for her age as an embarrassment; Which is why Naoki is very proud of her flat-chest, even preferring being called a “Waffle” by Ayato.

• Naoki’s habit of saying “あれれ”/"Ah-re-re" comes from the Murder Mystery anime series, Detective Conan. Which is a cute, child-like way of saying "Huh?"

• In the Haunted Dark Bridal Saga, Naoki shown to have Genophobia (fear of sexual relations or sexual intercourse), as she actually struggles and panic when Subaru started to touch her in a sexual manner in order to break her as a last resort to break her in the Manic arc. Naoki started to overcome that fear as she began to fall in love with Subaru.

• In the Haunted Dark Bridal Saga, Naoki’s greatest treasure is a bracelet gifted to her by her first fan which she often wears in her AOKI wardrobe; However, it was destroyed by Subaru. By the More Blood Saga, the bracelet is repaired, and by the end of the MB Saga, the bracelet is worn by Naoki for her AOKI activities, alongside another bracelet given to her by Subaru.

~

Height Chart:

~

Credits: Sprites made by @crezzstar-commissions, Chibi made by Me, Character sheet image provided by Yuiannii on DeviantArt.

[shadowanalyst]

When it comes to roleplay or cooperative writing, sometimes plots or threads lose focus over time. One or more partners are not as invested as you, some were never and just went along with it for your sake, perhaps you are hosting that plot but you lost interest a long time ago while waiting - or perhaps it is not going the way you had hoped and the energy dies. What do you do? What can you do?

The hardest part of roleplay for me is feeling like I've bored someone or wasted their time and though it takes someone very blunt or very secure in their abilities or time to say it outright, usually the feeling I've failed is from my own anxieties or overthinking it. Sometimes, however, it is confirmed to me someone has lost interest or that they just don't want to continue a thread and I panic. Where did I go wrong? What could I have done to prevent this? In truth it is just someone losing the motivation for one story or a single character. Perhaps I as a writer played a role in it but it is equally as likely they simply got what they emotionally needed from the story and everything after is just lost time or forced. It is not their fault. They do not owe you their time or creative energy in the same way you do not owe them yours.

Close out threads, tie off loose ends, by all means wrap up what you can to let yourselves move ahead but if the energy and muse just isn't there anymore, it isn't there. I have had a number of times told to me I've become boring or that my style is not what they were hoping for and it is fair for them to feel that way but my anxiety over failing remains. I want to engage and entertain people. Being told I am boring horrifies me. Should I just stop? I have had multiple characters break off association because that spark is just gone and if I have learned anything over these years it happens for similar reasons but because it still happens it makes me have to ask: is the central problem me?

You can only have so many similar outcomes before that question comes up. Am I the cause of something I enjoy ending? Certainly two or three losing interest just because it has been so long happens but I feel a pit in my stomach repeatedly. I'm boring. I'm not worth the time or energy. I'm a failure. Time and time again these feelings hit me hard, harder than is reasonable I'm told, but the evidence piles up in my head and is validated by poor timing or in cautious words.

It isn't the fault of my partners that I feel like this about myself. Even among the ache of feeling like my style and time grates on other people, I have had people tell me they really do enjoy what I put out and create, but those positive voices are silenced by anxiety and the few times I have just been called flatly 'boring'. It is such a stupid thing to he torn up over but I have tied my success as a writer and role player to the perceptions of others because I do not like what I make. I like creating but the product never makes me happy. It's vain. It's pathetic. I see people with years and years and years of roleplay or writing with a small number of consistent characters and I hate that I compare myself to them, but I do. What am I doing wrong.

No one owes me their time or energy. I owe no one my own. In spite of knowing these two realities, I cannot stop feeling so small in the face of people that once perhaps enjoyed my time. It isn't their fault I messed up somewhere. It's mine.

[derangedsilence]

Reiji Sakamaki

Permissions

Shipping?  Yes.  Singleship per verse with limited verses.  Please note - as stated on the rules page, orientation is typically listed as what the muses think they are.  

Duplicates? Multiple ‘Yuis’?  What about character that aren’t on the dedicated castmates list?  Yes.  You can thrust Reiji at Reiji.  There’s also no issue with duplicates of canon, crossover, etc. characters that Reiji is already interacting with.  You want it, you got it.   To prevent destroying the validity of duplicate muses, I will sometimes think of things as ‘A Kanato did this’ instead of ‘Kanato did this’, which is a very subtle difference but prevents another muse from having to deal with the blame of an event they were not responsible for.  This will only be differentiated as necessary within writing.  I repeat: all duplicate muses will be treated with respect, not as ‘fakes’.  Any Sakamaki brother is a brother of his, regardless of how many Kanatos there are (for example).  We’re just going to, uh, slide past that as often as possible (and occasionally make jokes).

Multiple Reijis will be treated as though they’d somehow wandered into one’s world or the other via some enchanted, strange object or doorway in the Sakamaki household.  This allows them to interact, but prevents the concept that one is a ‘true’ Reiji over the other.  You have been warned.

Fighting?  A-Okay.  I’ve done a lot of fighting roleplay but it was in the past and I’m way more interested in the storytelling of it.  It’s better that we discuss the end result beforehand for smoother sailing, but we can improv it as well.  I do this from a storytelling perspective.

Harming? A-Okay!  Just be aware that this muse may harm or kill yours in turn!

Killing? A-Okay!  Please be aware, however, that should the need or desire to continue the verse arise, the death scene will be considered a what-if.  In addition, it is very difficult to kill this muse due to the pureblood resurrection abilities.

Can we send shippy memes / etc.? Sure, we can still explore what-ifs, drabbles and oneshot threads, but the main focus will be on the storyline here!

Can we know Yui has Cordelia’s heart, is possibly turning into a vampire, is surrounded by vampires, etc. and reference this to Reiji? On a case-by-case basis.  It should be discovered organically if it’s not something your character would be able to know already.  There’s plenty of situations where this would make sense.

Can we know about Reiji’s past before interacting?  No, not unless you have genuine reasons for it like being one of his brothers.

Can we have characters comment on the events of the timeline? Yes, if they “catch sight of”, “overhear a rumor”, “a familiar saw X”, or any other sensible reason, then characters can be aware of and comment on events.  I wholly encourage characters participate in Reiji’s life!  Please tell the story with me!

Can we rescue Yui Komori from the Sakamaki household? Unlikely.  At best, if you succeed in the first place, it’s entirely likely that they will find you, they will take Yui back, and they will kill one or both of you for this.  Or the Mukamis might take advantage of the situation!  Obviously, the exception here is the Mukamis, who are entirely expected to attempt this from time to time.

Can we reference interactions we’ve had with your Kanato, etc. to Reiji?  I mean...sure?  If you want?  I’m fine with using my muses for plot and timeline advancements for myself and those I interact with (within limits) but I’d also prefer to not be my Ayato’s Kanato and vice versa, so this would probably be limited.  You can still act like what’s happened has happened, though.

Biography / Stats

FULL NAME. Reiji Sakamaki ALIAS. Reiji-san (Yui), Tableware Otaku (Ayato), Shichisan Megane (Ayato), That “Unlikeable Person” (Laito), My Dear (Cordelia) AGE. Appears 18-19 || Actually significantly older BIRTHDAY. August 29  GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male, he/him ORIENTATION. Heterosexual SPECIES. Vampire OCCUPATION. High school student of the night school known as Ryoutei Academy. 3rd year in HDB, 1st year of the college branch if assuming time has passed. RESIDENCE. Sakamaki residence, Japan

HAIR. Dark purple/black EYES. Red BUILD. Fit HEIGHT. 6'0'' (183cm) TATTOOS. None PIERCINGS. None. ADDITIONAL MARKINGS.   Glasses. OTHER. Right-handed

ZODIAC. Virgo  ALIGNMENT. Lawful neutral  POSITIVE TRAITS.  disciplined, sophisticated, intelligent NEGATIVE TRAITS. strict, arrogant, perfectionist

BIRTH PLACE. Japan NATIONALITY. Japanese PARENTS. Karlheinz (Alive?), Beatrix (Dead) SIBLINGS. Sibling: Shuu (older).  Paternal Half-siblings: Subaru and the triplets (Ayato, Kanato, Laito) EXTENDED FAMILY. Karlheinz's other wives, Christa and Cordelia. Richter (Uncle). EDUCATION. High school (likely several times over) SPECIES. Vampire NOTABLE SKILLS. Housecleaning, cooking, household management, academic work, poison & drug creation, piano, chess LANGUAGES. Japanese, English, German  FAVORITE FOOD. Spaghetti carbonara

PUREBLOOD. Inhuman strength, increased speed, vision, hearing, and smell. Fast healing & healing saliva. TELEPORTATION. Can teleport instantaneously. FLYING. He can fly on a full moon. SWORDSMANSHIP. A OTHER. Potion, drug and poison creation.  Can heal/treat vampires. WEAKNESSES. Truly holy objects weaken him, but not by much.   DISLIKES.  Weakness, poor manners, disobedience towards the rules of the household, the cursed incantation of “Reiji, Reiji, please engage-y”

Appearance

[*Credit: Appearance section pulled directly from the Dialovers Wiki.]

Reiji is a tall, slender young man.  His hair is primarily purple-black with a lighter gradient.  It is almost an inch away from being shoulder length and it is neatly combed. Reiji’s eyes are red.  He wears rectangular glasses.

Reiji usually dresses professionally to match his cordial facade.  In HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL, he wears a grey and black vest over a white dress shirt with black pants and a black belt.  

In MORE, BLOOD, he wears a black trench coat with a white dress shirt and black pants.

In DARK FATE, Reiji grows his hair out in order to emulate his father.

His school uniform consists of the black school jacket with a buttoned red vest over a black dress shirt and red tie.  He wears it with the black uniform pants and dress shoes.

According to Cordelia, if he weren’t so stiff, Reiji would look just like Karlheinz when she first met him.  She says that even his eyes are just like Karl’s.  This was said in an effort to tease Reiji, since he admires his father and dreams of becoming like him.

Personality

The household is a reflection of the outside world and one’s ability to affect it.

Despite being the second son, Reiji manages the Sakamaki house during Karlheinz’ prolonged absence as though he is the eldest.  Reiji manages the household funds, affairs and maintains the rules and expectations within the house.  Reiji is a strict perfectionist who values rules and expectations and he demands highly of both himself and others.  

Often wearing a smile, Reiji is intelligent, reserved...and pessimistic.  The second son’s polite, refined mannerisms make the barbs in his sophisticated speech come at a surprise - unless you’re related to him.

History

CHILDHOOD. As the second son of the Sakamaki family, Beatrix raised him to be a servant for his elder brother, Shuu.  She focused her attention almost entirely on Shuu, neglecting Reiji’s ambitious nature and his achievements.  

Reiji’s desire for his mother’s approval and attention never waned.  Twisting as the desire continued to be unmet, Reiji eventually burned down an entire human village, resulting in the death of Shuu’s human friend Edgar.  Reiji did this to punish and teach Shuu a lesson while also hoping to help and impress his mother, Beatrix.  Eventually Reiji even hired a vampire hunter to kill his mother in his desire to finally be acknowledged by her.  Instead of feeling at peace with it, he was dissatisfied that his mother was happy that he had killed her.

NEAR CURRENT.  Karlheinz manipulated circumstances to keep tossing experimental sacrificial brides at his children.  None could endure the blood loss, physical and emotional torment.  The sacrificial brides were too fragile and the Sakamakis broke their toys.  

CURRENT. A single sacrificial bride is surviving and enduring: Yui Komori.  Whichever brother obtains her will become the Sakamaki heir.  Without directly entering into a “relationship” with any of the Sakamakis, she endures her stay there.

Verses

Brief summaries of the verses for Reiji along with potential links for those less familiar with Diabolik Lovers but still want to interact with him.  For the sake of keeping things clean, encouraging community-wide and cooperative storytelling in roleplay, and not letting things get too crazy, verses will be limited.  More may be made over time as needed.

Summaries:

| DL Anime | DL More Blood Anime | Haunted Dark Bridal | More Blood | (Coming Soon)

VERSE - HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL

*This verse will be typically be the default, 'main verse'. In this, it is assumed that Yui Komori is staying at the Sakamaki household with some version of the first game having taken place. If the second game is included, it's with the idea that Yui stayed with the Sakamakis. Whether Reiji or one of his brothers winds up obtaining the Sacrificial Bride, Reiji’s life continues.

Verse Details | Tag: #V; REIJI; HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL

VERSE - MORE BLOOD

If for some reason it's absolutely necessary to differentiate between the verse above and a verse where More Blood has certainly occured, but Yui did not (at least initially) stay with the Sakamakis and instead is currently living with the Mukamis or was, until recently, still living with the Mukamis.  Rivalry abounds and attempts to procure Yui are likely.

Verse Details | Tag: #V; REIJI; MORE BLOOD

VERSE - MISC.

Posts that could take place in the Sakamaki or Mukami verses but involve duplicates (whether Yui or others) in the same scene in a manner that would be hard to pass off as typical flow for those verses.  Also includes nearly ANY time fellow characters are staying at the mansion, otherwise we’d end up with verses of 20+ additional characters hanging out in the Sakamaki villa.  

Verse Details | Tag:#V; REIJI; MISC

SITUATIONAL VERSE TAGS

#V; REIJI; UNIVERSAL

Posts that can easily be assumed to have occured in either the Sakamaki or Mukami verses, typically answering asks, etc. that aren’t directly related to events unique to their timelines.

#V; REIJI; WHAT IFS & #V; REIJI; ONESHOTS

Likely reserved for one-off threads exploring a “what if”, a romantic meme that would otherwise be inappropriate, etc.  If a meme doesn’t quite fit with one of the existing timelines, it’ll get one of these.

Trivia

Collects tableware

Good at finding killers for hire apparently, you go man

He reads very well

Sensitive when he gets drunk, whatever that means

He wants to bring his mother back to torture and kill her again

Tags

THREAD / WRITING TAG: #echoes in the halls; reiji

HEADCANONS:  #hc; dialovers; reiji

IMAGES: #itt // reiji sakamaki

MUSIC:  #music; dialovers; reiji

[teamoliv-archive]

One “Trope” for each muse please

For every “Trope” I get, I will post a TV trope for my muse.

*Cracks knuckles* Each muse you say? Alright, hold on.

Functional Addict - Onyx’s painkiller addiction is a consistent issue throughout the time before the Fall of Beacon and the early parts of the Red Arena arc. His recovery (and occasional relapses) are something only a few other characters were aware of, mostly those in his own family.

Deployable Cover - Lapis often uses his barrier semblance this way.

Statuesque Stunner - Ivory is 6′1″ and was well known at Atlas Academy for being very pretty.

Blinded by the Light - Violet’s semblance is a simple bright flash of light similar to a flashbang.

The Rich Have White Stuff - Tyrael’s white and red suit is a staple of his design.

Surveillance Drone - Lilac’s numerous ball drones were a calling card of her activity.

Consummate Professional - Cobalt takes his duties both professional and personal very seriously.

Fan Disservice - For all her proclivities, Molly’s skin is badly burned in several places. She’s frequented seedier bars because “people aren’t staring for the wrong reasons.”

Blood Knight - Robin has a little too much fun fighting sometimes and will be quick to jump to a brawl. Unfortunately for most involved, he’s very good at it.

Soft-Spoken Sadist - Jade very rarely drops his cool, even when mercilessly picking apart his victims’ psyches or watching them fight to the death.

The Power of Friendship - Lazuli’s semblance is literally powered by the bonds she has with her friends.

Harpoon Gun - One part of Shin’s weapon is a large harpoon he can use both as a melee weapon and launching out of the rifle like a bayonet.

Walking Spoiler - Mother Marianne’s status as the missing police inspector Melina Briar (and Molly’s mother) was a secret on the blog until the cutscene that revealed it. This fact is still only known to a small handful of characters in-universe.

Ambition is Evil - Auburn’s continual pursuit to prove herself superior to everyone else around her has caused a lot of problems for multiple characters.

BFG - Morado’s wingpack can still be detached and unfolded into the particle cannon that was used to construct it.

Only in It for the Money - Auroras’s cooperation in most situations lasts only as long as he’s being paid for it.

Walking Shirtless Scene - Hari wears a harness, but rarely a shirt.

Powers Do the Fighting - Whitney rarely closes in on her opponents, relying on her semblance to attack with overwhelming force.

Awesomeness by Analysis - Redmond’s primary value to the Cheshires and why he’s regarded so highly is his almost unparalleled ability as an analyst and planner. It’s often said the Cheshire Group wouldn’t be nearly as successful, or even fall apart, without him.

Servile Snarker - Sterling has this dynamic with Redmond.

Magic Wand - Shani’s weapon of choice.

Crazy Prepared - Iris always seems to have some bauble in her pockets that winds up useful to the situation at hand.

Hard Light - Her semblance allows her to extract light from a light source to create this.

Hair-Trigger Temper - Arvinda can be set off for very little reason.

[tea-and-g2s]

Holiday fic recs

(I will be adding to this , my bookmark tagging system is still a wip lol)

The Natural Binding Properties of Pine Sap

(4296 words) by

uraneia

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Cora Hale, Isaac Lahey, Sheriff Stilinski, Allison Argent

Additional Tags: Christmas fic, Pining, Magical Intervention, First Kiss, Deputy Derek, Mistletoe

Summary:

Derek saves a nymph from being somebody's Christmas decoration. As a reward, the nymph grants him a twig of mistletoe.

If Derek had known the mistletoe would come to life and goad him into kissing people at random, he might have tried to refuse.

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know)

(16062 words) by

yodasyoyo

Chapters: 4/4

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd

Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Barista Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Derek, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Stiles, Oblivious Derek, Scent Marking, gratuitous cuddling, basically all my favorite tropes distilled into one fic, Happy Christmas, schmoopy as fuck, don't expect any kind of plot, it's fluff for fluffs sake, Derek Cooks, Sharing Clothes

Series: Part 1 of

Sterek Christmas Fics

Summary:

“What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her groceries."

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

mistletoe and other holiday propaganda

(54648 words) by

ToAStranger, brawls

Chapters: 9/9

Fandom:

Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Tommy H. (Stranger Things), Carol (Stranger Things), Nancy Wheeler, Barbara "Barb" Holland, Jonathan Byers, Dustin Henderson

Summary:

Everybody wants something for Christmas.

It just so happens that the only way for everyone to get what they want is for Billy and Steve to pretend to be dating over Christmas break. It's really the only option.

Forget Your Perfect Offering

(10367 words) by

yodasyoyo

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Found Family, 5+1 Things, POV Sheriff Stilinski, brief mention of past alcohol abuse, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Deputy Derek Hale, Christmas (sorta briefly near the end)

Series: Part 5 of

Sterek Christmas Fics

Summary:

They’re both so pale under the layers of ash and soot, that’s the first thing John notices, that, and the smell that clings to their hair, their skin, their clothes.

Years later, when he knows Derek better, when he knows the truth, he’ll recall this moment and it’ll make his heart break a little. He’ll remember how the scent was so acrid, so intense, and he’ll wonder: If it was like that for him— a human— then how much worse for them? What else could they smell as they sat on hard plastic chairs beneath the stark strip light in a paint-peeled hallway at the Sheriff’s station?

or:

5 times the Sheriff called Derek 'son', and 1 time Derek called the Sheriff 'dad'.

Real life isn't a movie (life doesn't make narrative sense)

(11586 words) by

dearericbittle

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Cora Hale, Talia Hale, Peter Hale, Original Hale Character(s), Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)

Additional Tags: Spark Stiles Stilinski, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Beta Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alive Hale Family, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holidays, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Stiles Stilinski, Banter, Christmas Fluff

Summary:

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

A Hale for the Holidays

(38095 words) by

rlnerdgirl

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Talia Hale, Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall, Kira Yukimura

Additional Tags: Stiles is a homeless doctoral student, Derek is a semi-famous author, Shenanigans, Christmas, New Year's Eve, Alternate Universe - Human, New York City, Beacon Hills, Fake/Pretend Relationship

Summary:

“I sent you a Christmas card that got sent back to me. Did you get a new apartment?” his dad wonders. The question is all suspicion and little anything else.

A flicker of an idea sparks. It’s not nearly formed well enough for him to say, “Yeah, actually,” and when he follows that with, “I moved in with someone,” he wants to punch himself in the face. He’s living with someone?!

“You’re living with someone?” It’s the same voice and tone as the one in Stiles’ head, just thirty years older.

Two things keep Stiles from bashing his face onto the table: there’s a steaming cup of coffee in the way and, more importantly, his dad will definitely hear. Someone passes by in front of him and a semi-familiar book cover catches his eye. “Derek Hale,” he muses, and stops. No. That wasn’t meant to be out loud.

Our Kind of Nuts

(22553 words) by

ericaismeg

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Sheriff Stilinski, Isaac Lahey

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Pack in College, Mama's Bakery, Erica Reyes & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore Friendship, Slow Build, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Drinking, Drunkenness, Abused Isaac, Fluff, major fluff, Texting, Tutoring, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Cheesy, Fox Erica Loves You, Christmas, pride and prejudice - Freeform, Sappy Derek Hale, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Derek, Romantic Stiles Stilinski, Movie Night, Game Night

Series: Part 1 of

Erica Loves You

Summary:

Stiles doesn't know that reaching out to Erica, a girl from his Psych class, is going to change his entire life. All he wanted was a quiet place to study. Suddenly, he's becoming best friends with Erica, getting a tutor from Boyd, going crazy over this guy who is quite passionate about Pride and Prejudice named Derek, being supportive to Lydia, finding some weird peace treaty with Jackson, and inviting Erica's best friend to live with him, Scott, and Jackson for a bit.

He didn't expect things to turn out like this, but hell, he's not complaining one bit.

Dysfunctional Domesticity

(6973 words) by

yodasyoyo

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)

Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Jealous Derek, Christmas, Matchmaker Lydia, Stiles is hot, Derek doesn’t know how to deal

Series: Part 4 of

Sterek Christmas Fics

Summary:

Derek schools his features into an expression that he hopes looks wise and profound, yet caring, and not like he was recently thinking about dicks.

-----

Derek has a crush okay? A stupid crush on Stiles, which he will totally get over as long as he can make it through the holiday season without giving himself away.

Fortunately for him, Lydia has other plans.

Double-Booked

(30801 words) by

IndianSummer13

Chapters: 8/8

Fandom:

Riverdale (TV 2017)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews & Veronica Lodge

Characters: Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge

Additional Tags: Light Angst, Alternate Universe, holiday fluff, Christmas, Smut ahead, First Time

Summary:

“Look, Holden Caulfield,” Veronica says. “It’s not like Betty and I signed up for a vacation with you either. But we’re not leaving now that we’re here, so unless you are, you’re gonna have to share. It’s the fairest way.”

Or, when Betty and Veronica book a stay at a lodge in Vermont over Christmas, the last thing they expect to find is the place already occupied.

to face unafraid (the plans that we made)

(32690 words) by

singsongsung

,

sylwrites

Chapters: 6/6

Fandom:

Riverdale (TV 2017)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones

Characters: Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews, Polly Cooper, Jason Blossom, Alice Cooper (Archie Comics), Hal Cooper, Dilton Doiley

Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Christmas Fluff, Tropes, Tropes Everywhere, the authors do not apologize

Summary:

"You need to show Alice that you’re in charge of your own life. You are the captain of your own soul, Betty Cooper.” Veronica drums her manicured nails against the side of her empty mug in a steady beat, a sure sign that she’s feeling contemplative. “Would you like to know what I would do?”

“Why not," Betty says.

Veronica leans forward. “I’d bring home Alice Cooper’s worst nightmare.” She smirks. “And boy, do I have the perfect candidate in mind.”

 AU.

Stay.

(15357 words) by

paradis

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey/Lydia Martin, past (brief) Stiles Stilinski/Danny Mahealani

Characters: Erica Reyes, Sheriff Stilinski

Additional Tags: Christmas fic, Stiles Stilinski & Lydia Martin are BFFs, angsty, but it's got a fluffy ending

Summary:

He leaves because the press of Derek’s lips and the sting of his teeth against Stiles’ neck are still burning his skin, and he can’t stop touching them, but then he remembers Derek telling him he’s not pack, he never was, and that he doesn’t belong here.

He leaves because Lydia asks him too, but he doesn’t go back to Beacon Hills because no one asked him to come back.

A Holly Jolly Stiles

(7160 words) by

Triangulum

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, The Pack (Teen Wolf)

Additional Tags: Christmas Fluff, Getting Together, Steter Secret Santa 2018

Summary:

Stiles....goes a bit overboard at Christmas. He knows this. His dad knows this. Scott knows this. The pack...does not.

Or

Stiles is going to give the pack a great Christmas whether they like it or not. And if special attention is paid to Peter, well...

Mother of Dragons

(11985 words) by

Lissadiane

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom:

Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Cora Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Lydia Martin, Allison Argent

Additional Tags: Christmas, Fluff, Hogwarts AU

Series: Part 1 of

Mother of Dragons

Summary:

Since Hogwarts had opened its doors to werewolves, many Hale children had apparently come through, wary and angry, refusing to socialize with the other students. And one by one, they’d been sorted into Slytherin, obviously, with the odd Ravenclaw to mix things up.

And then along came little Derek Hale, who’d barely gotten his ass on the stool before the hat was calling out Gryffindor.

Everyone thought it was funny, even now, when Derek was in his seventh year. Stiles, though, found it fascinating.

It helped, of course, that Derek was two years older and hotter than the sun.

[brcakingthehabit-blog]

This is the intro for my second muse, Jason ! I’m sorry that it’s a bit of a mess as I was still in the process of planning his muse. What you see under the cut is a very rough skeleton. 

mike lobel  +  cismale  +  he/him  +  32 ✩  jason cooper is not on the wanted list, but either way they’ve been stuck in new california city for five years. despite everything, they're assertive and practical, although they’re also manipulative and reckless. even fugitives need money, so they’re currently a mechanic. having earth manipulation helps with that, although it comes with only being able to manipulate from existing sources and having to stay in contact with earth for their powers to work. when they’re not looking over their shoulder constantly, they remind me of empty bottles of hard liquor, dirty hands, mischievous smiles, and baseball caps  ✩  gray +  25  +  she/her  +  pst

More about him under the cut (tw; alcohol and drug abuse mentions, physical and mental abuse mentions, death)

Born in 2047

He was actually orphaned as a kid, raised by his aunt (his father’s sister)

His aunt was a dreamer, but refused to admit her powers as well as drown her consciousness with alcohol 

Both his mother and father passed away in an accident 

His aunt lived alone and didn’t have any children. She only had her cats as well as her bottles of alcohol. 

She was mentally and physically abusive towards Jason 

However, Jason tried his best to take care of her

He became extremely rebellious when he started high school. He really didn’t care about his education. He began drinking, abusing drugs, bullying other kids, and being promiscuous. He actually ended up being suspended multiple times and eventually expelled from school due to his delinquent behavior. He never finished high school.

He worked some odd jobs after he was expelled to earn some pocket money. However, he would just spend most of it on drugs and booze. 

He eventually started working as a mechanic. He always had a passion for cars.

He made quite a bit of money working as a mechanic. 

Moved to new california city around the age of 27 because his boss wanted to expand his operations into another city. 

He has obviously matured a lot since his teen days. However, his maturity is still stagnant from being a burnout in high school.

He does pretty well for himself and is a great mechanic. 

Other facts

Heavy drinker

Occasional smoker

He has a sarcastic and dark sense of humor 

Awfully reckless for a grown man 

However, he is logical and uses his brain 

He wants to open up his own shop one day 

He is somewhat afraid of being found out to be a dreamer, but he thinks his worries are minuscule compared to what he wants to achieve in his life 

He’s heterosexual / heteromantic for the most part 

[snowinabottlearchived]

eight , five , four , three (HEN LO YES I AM GREEDY *SHRUGS* )

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒

woah  i  don ‘ t  even  know  where  to  start .  i  met  so  many  wonderful  people  over  tumblr  that  three  wouldn ‘ t  be  enough  to  honor  those  who  had  the  most  impact  on  me .  i  am  here  for  about  three  years  now  and  experienced  so  much  KINDNESS  AND  LOVE  i  am  incredibly  grateful  for  and  will  never  forget .  so  let  us  take  some  time  and  honor  these  gems  i  am  writing  with  for  quite  some  time  now  and  will  be  stalked  by  me  forever  :→   @ak-spra my  first  ever  friend  on  here .  lorcan  helped  me  to  find  my  way  into  the  star  trek  community ,  to  establish  a  good  background  for  amelia  and  learn  more  about  vulcan  traditions  and  culture .  we  met  twice  yet  and  we  try  to  do  every  time  i  am  in  england ,  because  honestly .  i  love  and  adore  them  so  much .  also  their  spock  and  my  girl  have  been  one  of  the  very  first  ships  i  wrote  ?  they  are  not  pretty  active  at  the  moment ,  but  i  will  wait  for  their  return  forever .→  @heartxshaped-bruises mado  my  fellow  german  potato .  i  don ‘ t  even  know  how  we  started  talking  anymore ,  but  i  remember  how  funny  and  weird  it  was  to  meet  someone  speaking  the  same  first  language  as  me .  we  became  friends  quite  easy  and  started  to  gush  about  our  muses ,  about  supernatural  and  so  many  other  things .  she  met  me  twice  and  we  had  such  a  good  time  going  sightseeing  in  vienna ,  watching  stupid  shark  and  kung  fu  movies  and  spending  new  years  eve  together .  we  do  not  talk  as  much  as  i  would  like  to  anymore  and  i  really  really  miss  her ,  so  i  hope  we  can  manage  to  see  each  other  again  soon .  she  has  so  many  wonderful  muses  on  her  blog ,  that  you  should  all  go  and  give  her  a  follow .  she  is  a  wonderful  human  being  and  i  am  honored  to  call  her  friend .→  @cheiian another  german  potato  i  will  protect  forever .  she  is  my  dumblr  daughter ,  my  fellow  kindergarten  teacher  and  will  always  own  a  special  place  in  my  heart .  thanks  to  her  i  started  listening  to  k  pop  and  fall  in  love  with  korean  culture .  she  is  immensely  creative ,  so  perfect  in  english  you  would  never  guess  it  isn ‘ t  her  first  language  and  a  very  good  friend .  i  love  her  a  lot  and  am  so  glad  to  have  her  in  my  life .→  @synthdeus   /  @valdreyri listen .  this  little  mess  is  my  forever  gem .  she  has  so  much  to  do  with  uni  and  is  so  hard  working ,  so  i  am  sure  she  is  going  to  be  the  next  rising  star  on  the  television  /  movie  market .  i  adore  her  a  lot  and  miss  talking  to  her  as  soon  she  gets  swallowed  up  by  editing  stuff  again .  she  helped  me  through  many  bad  times  over  here  and  was  always  there  to  listen ,  so  i  will  always  cling  and  wait  forever .→  @iilvecchio i  don ‘ t  even  know  where  to  start .  we  wrote  on  so  many  blogs  of  them  and  been  through  so  much  shit  together ,  that  i  will  always  cherish  their  friendship .  they  are  a  wonderful  writer  and  put  so  much  love  and  effort  in  every  muse  they  write ,  that  its  hard  not  to  fall  in  love .  i  always  enjoy  our  talks  a  lot  and  deeply  miss  them  every  time  we  go  radio  silent  for  a  week  or  two  due  to  stress  and  work .  →  @cfmgic / @immrtlsd u  potato .  u  better  believe  you  will  be  added  here ,  because  ever  since  we  started  writing  on  legless  lego  legolas  i  fell  in  love  with  you .  we  talked  so  much  about  our  favorite  fandoms ,  about  our  poor  villain  characters  we  deeply  admire  and  their  soft  qualities  and  ?  i  honestly  adore  all  our  plots ,  ideas  and  whatever  we  come  up  with .  i  still  feel  honored  that  you  even  write  with  me ,  because  you  are  so  a +  +  +  that  i  can  only  vanish  into  nothingness .  i  love  you  a  lot ,  thank  you  for  always  sending  me  stuff ,  making  edits  for  us  and  simply  being  there .  you  are  my  top  maple  syrup  /  kiwi  friend .  much  love  to  you .→  @regimerot i  can  not  believe  doll  is  really  back  from  the  dead .  we  started  to  write  about  two  years  ago  and  shared  so  many  tears  and  emotions ,  it  is  insane .  in  between  photos  of  our  beloved  pugs  we  talked  about  many  other  things  and .  .  i  simply  loved  it  so  much .  when  i  saw  her  returning  last  week ,  i  was  head  over  heels  and  am  truly  happy  to  see  her  on  my  dash  again .  i  will  never  forget  the  friendship  we  built  up  and  always  keep  her  close  to  my  heart .

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒

oh  i  don  ‘ t  know  where  to  start  this  either ,  so  i   might  only  mention  those  ships  that  are  most  intense  at  the  moment .  it  doesn ‘ t  actually  need  to  be  romantically  based ,  but  these  four  really  got  me  and  occupy  me  every  time  i  am  writing  over  here  :→   EVERYTHING  i  write  with  marco .  either  if  it  is  amelia  and  loki ,  or  amelia  and  tom .  honestly .  they  kill  me  with  their  ideas ,  they  drown  me  in  tears .  how  did  i  deserve  that  ?→  sweetpea  and  amelia  and  our  wonderfully  chaotic  and  dramatic  story  i  currently  write  with  @serpcntloyalty .  she  is  such  a  gem  and  gives  me  so  many  feels  that  i  still  can ‘ t  believe  she  writes  with  me  ?  i  love  them  loads .→   sybok  and  amelia  (  and  probably  even  the  got  thing  we  have  been  talking  about  very  responsibly  )  with  the  wonderful  @vulkon .  honestly .  i  could  write  with  her  forever ,  plot  things ,  explore  ideas  and  come  up  with  headcanons  just  to  cry  about  anson  mount  in  the  end .  that ‘ s  my  tea .→   the  incredible  love  death  and  robots  story  @thekrakn  and  me   plotted  for  diego  and  amelia .  their  dynamic .  their  unique  relationship .  all  the  troubles  that  are  about  to  come  and  the  most  brilliant  environment  i  ever  had  the  honor  to  write  in .  neon  eden ,  cyberpunk  at  its  best .  i  am  in  love .

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

i  don ‘ t  think  i  can  come  up  with  five  plots ,  but  there  are  a  few  verses  from  amelia  i  would  like  to  explore  more .  i  would  be  so  excited  to  flesh  out  her  game  of  thrones  based  background  and  find  someone  willing  to  write  with  me ,  as  well  as  more  star  trek  interactions  in  general .  for  plotting  i  always  adore  a  partner  i  can  talk  to ,  i  can  discuss  headcanons  with  and  drown  in  tears  together .  i  think  this  is  a  thing  that  should  be  made  between  two  sides  and  never  a  one  way  ticket .  honestly .  i  am  probably  very  easy  to  plot  with ,  since  i  have  ideas  for  almost  every  bullshit  you  throw  at  me .  JUST  COME  AND  TRY  IT .

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 / 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

i  haven ‘ t  written  that  many  characters  i  think ,  but  there  are  still  a  few  i  had  over  here  (  and  sadly  never  kept  running  properly ,  since  i  get  overwhelmed  way  too  easily  ) : →  amelia  johnson  /  star  trek  oc  with  multiple  verses→  gamora  from  the  mcu→  betty  cooper  from  riverdale→  nisha  /  a  stargate  oc→  jack  o’neill  from  stargate →  diana  prince  /  wonder  woman  from  the  dceu

[darling-i-read-it]

The Queen

FP Jones x reader

Word Count:1623

Warnings:uh Jugheads crappy childhood, language

Author’s Note:I don’t know everything about Riverdale so forgive me if this is a little messed up. This is also a little into the first season so the core four are friends. But like I super like the cheese here.

Summary:The reader went to school with the core fours parents but left Riverdale. Now she comes back and sees her former lover FP Jones.

Genre:Fluff, angst

Song I recommend listening to:Ghost by Halsey

(Not my gifs)

Alice Cooper. Fred Andrews. Hermione Lodge. And FP Jones.

The start of the kids in Riverdale, the group that was out to save the world, one week grounded at a time.

You went to High School with the starting group, the group that if they had not met would have never became what was happening today.

You went MIA in Senior year after watching FP drown himself in Alice. It was difficult to watch the boy you had a crush on fall for someone that would never love him back.

So you left Riverdale. You left the Southside Serpents where you grew into, you left your family and you left all baggage behind.

You never looked back.

Until you did.

Silence consumed Pops, the place that had seldom changed since you had last been in it, milkshakes for 3 bucks and fries for 2. You were one of three people sitting in the place, your leather jacket making you stand out. It wasn’t a Southside jacket but it was a jacket nonetheless.

It was that night a bustle of students walked in, laughing and chatting like typical High Schoolers did. You looked up at them and away from your milkshake to be met with eyes you knew. Multiple pairs of them.

“Alice?” Alice was the first name that came to your mind but you realized that wasn’t Alice at all but her eyes were almost the same. Alice’s look alike turned to you with a confused look. It was a small town she was probably wondering why she hadn’t seen you around.

“No sorry I’m Betty Cooper. Alice is my mom’s name. Sorry I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” She strayed behind her group which stayed with her.

“Uh yeah sorry I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I went to school with your mom. Funny you seem a lot nicer than her,” you chuckled making her smile lightly. She must have known all to well.

“Mom never mentioned you,” she whispered but you smiled.

“Are you FP Jones kid too?” You couldn’t help but ask. You had loved the man and you hated Alice so you had to know if she had his kid.

This made her laugh though which put you at ease.

“Gosh I hope not.”

“I am though. Why do you want to know? What do you know about my dad?” A boy in the group came up before Betty. His tone took you aback making you realise he was FP’s kid no doubt.

“I was close with him. Growing up. We were friends. Really good friends. What’s your name kid?” The scrappy boy looked at you for a moment.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yeah. I said that before I-”

“There’s no way. You were the serpent queen. You’re a legend!” FP’s kid sat across from you in the booth. You chuckled looking at your milkshake.

“I was. How’s your dad kid?” Betty sat next to him then a red head. A brunette stood standing.

“I..I haven’t seen him in a while. But he used to talk about you all the time. My mom joked she was competing with a ghost. Half the serpent's thought you were dead. My dad thought you were dead. I’m Jughead by the way.”

“I’m Archie. Archie Andrews.” The redhead spoke making you sit back.

“Andrews! Fred knocked someone up? Hard to believe. Your mom must have been a charmer.” Archie smiled. The brunette whom you still had no name to sat beside you.

“I..I’m Veronica Lodge. My parents are-”

“Hermione and Hiram I’m guessing. Yeah I heard of your parents. You all must be a group to recon with,” you mused sipping your milkshake. The kids nodded making you smile of delight. You remember when you were like them. Adorable and tiny but fierce and a scary shot.

Jughead was still looking at you sceptical.

“My dad..he told me stories of your trips together. When I lived with him I thought you were a Serpent superhero. He’ll really want to see you.” You looked at his desperate eyes with recognition. They were the same look FP had the last time you saw him. With Alice. She didn’t let him go anywhere. It hurt.

“Well if he had you, he has a girl and I’m guessing that will make him less than inclined to see me. We didn’t part on good terms. He thought I died I don’t expect a hug and a kiss.” You scoffed but only to hide the truth behind your words.

“My parents haven’t been together in years. She took my little sister and left.” Jughead looked down at his hands.

“That sucks kid I’m sorry. I’ll see your dad if you want me to. I wanna see everyone actually and convince them I’m alive. It’s a bucket list thing.” You laughed and noticed Betty cringe at the mention of meeting her mother. You were fine not seeing Alice, she was the last on your list of connections. FP was easily the first, then Fred.

“I can find him. We can go now I don’t have anything going on for the day.” You perked at his enthusiasm.

“Sure Jug. I have nowhere to be, Riverdale hasn’t been on my agenda in 20 years.”

_____________

Jughead took you to the Whyte Worm. Walking in was like walking into the past. The smell of cigarettes and booze drifted to your nose, the jacket that you still owned sitting in the car ready to be used. You wore it now as you walked through meeting all these new faces and being scared when you saw wrinkled ghosts of ones.

When you saw FP you stopped dead. He was like wine. That’s the saying right? He gets better with age.

“Dad!” Jugheads voice ringed in your ears when you saw FP turn to face you, his eyes widening at the sight. You waved slightly. He walked toward you in two long strides and grabbed your shoulders, forever the strong one.

“Y/N?” He whispered searching your face for signs of hurt or recognition.

“The one and only FP.” Your smile was blinding and your eyes were glossy. He was the man you wished you had stayed around for all those years ago. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, he was never easy to read anymore and his lying skills were impeccable.

“Jug can you give us a moment,” FP muttered turning to his kid only briefly. Jughead looked between the two of you before going away becoming a blur in the crowd of Serpents. FP turned back to you. “You kept the jacket.” He rubbed the leather.

“I wasn’t about to leave the only part of Riverdale I liked behind. Once a Serpent always a Serpent.” FP raised his hand to your cheek rubbing his thumb across the tear you had let slip.

“Damn did I miss you,” he chuckled closing the gap between you. His lips molded with yours in a way you hadn’t felt since Alice Cooper stepped between you. It was as though you were both teenagers again. Back in high school when you’d make out in the back Whyte Worm and hid from your parents. It was crazy and nostalgic and you craved it.

He seemed to be the same way.

You never asked Jug if he was divorced.

Did it matter?

When you stopped, you both stopped at the same time, almost like you were synced.

“You died. Everyone thought you fell off the face of the earth but I knew you didn’t. I just didn’t know why you left.” You looked down at your feet.

“Alice Cooper. There was so much going on at home and she took the only thing that kept me in Riverdale.” He looked down at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“What did she take?”

“You.” He raised your chin so you faced him. He was smiling softly.

“And when you left you took my one reason to do any homework.” You laughed.

“Well it looks like you ended up okay.”

“I ended up in the same spot I was when you left but with two kids and a wife who hates me. Looks like you ended up better.” His expression was lost but truthful.

Jughead showed up beside you, waiting for you to let go of each other. He wasn’t awkward, he always knew about his dad was in love with a girl who wasn’t here. Before bed when he was younger, back when his parents talked, when Jellybean wasn’t born, when his dad was home all the time, he used to tell bedtime stories to Jughead about a teen girl who was so cool.

“I ended up in the arms of the guy I’ve been lusting for since the freaking 10th grade. Guess I did do better.”

FP called her The Queen, and gave her no name until Tall Boy told him when he was 13 along with the fact that she was a real girl.

He wondered when he was young why FP never told a story of The Queen when his mom was in the room.

He only heard your name pass his mother's lips the day before she left for good. His dad pushed you were dead, you would never come back but his mom had none of it.

Jughead almost was in shock whenever he looked at you now. He grew up on stories of you under a fake name and only now realized that after all this time that FP was running after a girl who wasn’t there. A girl who had been dead.

A girl who was very much alive now.

Tag List: @swanky-batman

Part 2

[hangonimevolving]

Attempting some gratitude, for once.

I need to post this, before the thought and the mood from which it’s sprung both dissipate into thin air.

I suck at gratitude, on the whole. Seriously, I do, and I know I need to work on that. I’ll spare everyone my sob stories, explanations, justifications, etc. for why I have had a hard time with gratitude in recent years, but suffice to say - I am aware that I suck at it, and I heard somewhere that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.... so fine. I admit it. I’m ungrateful and unappreciative in my life most days.

But today, I’ve had multiple - MULTIPLE - moments of just feeling this weird, inexplicable, warm and fuzzy, happy, sigh-inducing THING just bubble up in me. And I was like WTF is this feeling?! Why is my tummy all glittery and light? Why am I sitting here on the sofa smiling for no damn reason?! OHHHHH! Wait! Is this.....gratitude?! HOLY SHIT, I think it is! So I’m gonna write it down and note it for all posterity. I, Evolver, have felt gratitude on this 7th day of September, 2018.

It all started last Saturday night, where, right in the middle of Labor Day weekend and my sister Rithers’ visit to our hike in Miami along with her hubby, Uncle K, and her kids H20 and NiNi, our 5.5-year old Vevvy fell ill. We thought that perhaps he was just overly exhausted from a long and happy day in the pool when he felt warm to the touch on Saturday night, but mid-day Sunday, during a beach excursion - Vev’s FAVORITE thing in the world, he completely fell apart, acting listless, fatigued, and not having fun at all. One look at him, standing statuesque on the beach, staring out to sea longingly while tears rolled down his cheeks, said it all: “what is going on?! I’m so confused, mommy! I’m in my favorite place in the world, and yet I feel so miserable! What is happening to me?!” A hand on his forehead revealed that he was burning up. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dr. Spouse loaded him up in the car and headed for home, while I remained at the beach with Dey to host Rithers and co. a while longer. Poor Vev needed a shower, some kiddie Tylenol, and bed rest, stat.

the “I am siiiiick” face :(

Over the next seven - SEVEN! - days, Vev would continue to have relentless fevers or 101-103F even with continuous children’s Tylenol and Motrin. He also developed monster congestion in his sinuses and nose, headaches, body ache, and general fatigue. I was sincerely shocked and more than a little intimidated by his congestion snot (keeping it real), which was so thick and oppressive, it would choke his throat and inhibit his from breathing if he dared to rest in even a semi-reclining position. 

The poor kid had no choice but to be completely upright if he didn’t want to gag on his own phlegm, which meant that he (and by transitive property, I) could really sleep no more than 90 minutes at a stretch for four nights straight. He was miserable, and I was doing everything I could to help him, staying with him each night either on an air mattress in my bedroom, or just holding him against my shoulder/chest in my bed while he desperately tried to sleep and breathe at the same time. I felt awful for him, and mused for a moment about parents whose children have respiratory disorders like CF who live their lives this way.... good health is such a blessing that we all take for granted.

As much as I hated every minute of Vev’s suffering, there was something a bit nostalgic in holding him sleeping in my arms for several consecutive nights. Wasn’t there a time in the not-so-distant past where this was the ONLY way he’d sleep?! I bitch and moan all the time about how clingy, dependent, and non-self reliant my kids are — but it has been years since Vev needed me at night this way. My Vevvy has grown up a lot.

And to his credit, despite all this sicky misery, he was really a trooper while ill. Against his traditional character, when sick or not, he really didn’t complain much - just went quiet and kept to himself for days, forming a little nest on the sofa each day with a warm blankie, big box of Kleenex, and his iPad, not really asking for much at all except quiet and rest. He never really complained when I had to give him medication, and he did his best to heed my urges to drink clear fluids even when I could tell he really didn’t want to. And - forgive the TMI here - but you know your kid is really growing up when they begin to have some way of forewarning you and/or running to the bathroom on their own steam and hitting the preferred target of the toilet when they’ve gotta vomit. Fortunately, Vev only puked twice this week, and I suspect that too was only bc he gagged on his own copious snot — but both times, he announced “throwwww uuuup!” to me before sprinting to the loo and handling affairs with no mess and accurate aim. HALLELUJAH! This should be considered a major developmental milestone!!! (And yes - poor, poor kid! I really am glad it was only the twice, because that must have sucked a lot for him!)

Yeah, so.  He’s growing up.  Way to go, buddy!!!... and, sniff.

(supposedly this says “Mommy I love you ”...  but he always starts writing at the bottom of a page and works his way up.  He may also be of the mind that “Mommy” is spelled “mom-E.”  Yes, we’re gonna work on it)

It was only yesterday, Thursday, that we got an official pediatrician diagnosis of his illness: the flu, as in the legit flu virus, or Influenza A. The word came too late for antiviral medications to be of any great use to him, unfortunately, but I was grateful anyway that we got a halfway-decent pediatrician BRILLIANT nurse practitioner who needed my assertive request demand for a prophylactic prescription or Tamiflu for Dey. We’ve had shitty luck in South Florida with pediatricians who appear to be reactionary and unnecessarily nonsensical in their responses to my requests for help - but this time, our pedi NP was A+. She treated our family like competent, educated people and did things that made sense as far as ensuring this highly-contagious virus wouldn’t spread to another healthy child living in the same household. I wish she could be our regular PCP (but of course, I bet she can’t be, bc she’s not a doctor. Grr, fucking managed care. Oops, hold it - I’m supposed to be channeling gratitude here, not my customary bitchiness. My bad.)

Anyway, speaking of Dey, I’ve got to brag about him a bit here too. At 3.5 years old, Dey’s baseline is definitely chill, go-with-the-flow, glass-half-full, and a pleasant, happy and easygoing “whatever you want, dude!”-ness that Vev NEVER was at that age. It’s been really awesome to see. But this week, his general outlook on life, combined with impressive moments of being a team player, cooperating, helping out, and exhibiting formidable empathy really made me sooo proud.

It’s certainly understandable that he’d be potentially jealous that his older brother got to skip an entire week of school while he still had to go. It would be even more understandable since they are actual CLASSMATES at school this year (yes, our Montessori school groups ages 4-6/preschool, pre-K and kindergarten in one classroom, so they’ve been together at school and at home since the start of the academic year). So I was very impressed when Dey accepted his brother’s illness and his need to stay home from school, while he was forced to go. Without one word of complaint, he’d get up each morning, eat his breakfast, get washed up and dressed out in uniform, gather his things, then visit Vev quickly and dispense a goodbye hug and a “hope you feel better, Vev!” before loading up in the car for school drop-off. What a trooper. At afternoon pick-up, when I’d ask about his day at school, he’d say with a little frown, “oh, school was okay...but Vev wasn’t on the playground.” It was kinda weird feeling my heart simultaneously break a little, but also burst with pride at how much he loves his brother. Sweet kiddo. 

At home, each afternoon he’d run excitedly to Vev to see how he was doing, his face full of hopeful anticipation that perhaps today, Vev was feeling better and could play with him... but when he’d find Vev too miserable and tired to play, his face would momentarily fall in disappointment, but then he would muster some compassion and understanding, silently shuffle away, and find a quiet game to do in the vicinity, just so he could be nearby without disturbing Vev. Or, cuter still, he’d snuggle down on the opposite side of the couch as Vev, and tune his iPad into the same YouTube video Vev would be watching, so they could give each other silly smiles and glances during the funny parts. The boy would periodically race off in the house to find his toy doctor kit, and would affix his little plastic stethoscope to his ears so he could “give Vev a checkup” and “make him feel better.” 

(Dr. Cutie Pie is in)

It was adorable, man. His whole world spins because of his brother. It’s so touching. I don’t know how it is that I managed to have two kids who love each other so much, because karmically I’ve done NOTHING to earn this. My sister and I were rotten to each other as kids, and only really turned a corner on it in our... what, our late 30′s?!  Haha :)  But I’m so grateful for these two dudes. These two little people are the best of friends, and they can’t live without each other. The feels.

One more funny brag about Dey. Dr. Spouse and I often jokingly refer to him as Dory, i.e. the lovable blue fish, voiced by Ellen DeGeneres from the Disney movie “Finding Nemo.” Dory’s schtick is that she’s easily distracted and has short-term memory. 

Fittingly, Dory is one of Dey’s favorite cartoon characters, and he’s not shy to let the world know....

Anyway. Remember that whole prophylactic script for Tamiflu? Mind you, I was so grateful to get it. But. Ummmm, pediatric Tamiflu tastes FOUL. It is seriously the most bitter, disgusting, viscous goo I’ve ever gingerly licked to mentally prepare myself for my kid’s reaction to. I began fearing Dey’s reaction, and the ensuing tantrums to come over the five-day course of the drug. But I spoke matter-of-fairly to Dey about how this was a medicine he’d need to take to keep himself healthy, and that it would be a little bit yucky, but that I’d give him a HUGE spoonful of sugar right after to make it taste better (and THANK YOU, blessed Mary Poppins, for your genius). 

 Luckily, little Dory just took my words at face value without any further thought, opened his mouth, and downed the nasty shot of devil’s semen Tamiflu that I dispensed into his mouth. Immediately his face went every shade of red, purple, and white, with a coordinating expression like “what the hell is this shit?!” — but I swooped in there prepared, like a crack-smoking Mother of Batman, giving him a swig of water then heaping a MASSIVE spoon of white sugar directly onto his tongue. The result was nothing short of magical - the kid instantaneously closed his eyes in pleasure, turned up his cute little round cheeks to the ceiling with a huge smile on his face, and loudly cooed “Mmmm!” as if it was the best damn thing he’d ever eaten in his life. Moments later, the sugar fully dissolved, Dey matter-of-fairly reminisced with a RainMan-esque tone, “hey mommy, that medicine was kind of yucky for me. Kind of salty. Kind of spicy. But the SUGAR WAS YUUUUUUMMMMMY!” I worried that at the next dosing (and man, the kid’s gotta take it morning and night, poor little dude) he’d run screaming from the salty spicy medicine, and wouldn’t fall for the sugar trick — but amazingly, when I announced “medicine and sugar time,” the child came RUNNING to me with a huge grin on his face like he’d just won the lottery. He gulped down the medicine like a champ, swigged the water himself, then began changing “Su-gar! Su-gar! Su-gar!” till I ladled a bit into his mouth.  Naturally, my mind spun forward a bit, concerned that his ease of overcoming the Yucky Taste Barrier and downing this stuff for a cheap reward might translate into some unsavory teenage and young adult behaviors (err, tequila shot champion in the making?!  Please god, help us).  But, for now - eternally grateful for my little Dory’s easy distractability and forgiving memory!!! Vev, at that age and even now, would have NEVER gone along with this!

(is it just me, or do they even kinda sorta look alike, Dory and Dey?  No one else sees it?!  No one?!!!  Hmm...)

Anyway. In conclusion, it’s not normal for me to have something kind of bad happen, like the flu hitting one of my kids, but finding some good in the mess. But here I am, in spite of myself, awash in all the warm fuzzies.

1. I’ve got two healthy, happy kids, when many people have children with serious health issues and have to live their lives watching their kids sick and miserable all the time

2. my kids are growing up, becoming wonderfully independent, self-reliant, empathetic and helpful. But they still sometimes need me, and that’s nice too.

3. They both have such fun, distinct personalities.

4. I admit that it’s pretty awesome that my second kid is so chill. Love them both to bits, but if kid #2 has been more ornery and neurotic, I think that would have sucked. Having a chill kid #2 is a godsend.

5.  They frigging LOVE EACH OTHER.  It’s a goddamn brotherly love fest up in here.  

6.  Last but not least - the flu sucks, but it isn’t forever, and life will go on.  Soon, in fact.  And we’ll be onto the next adventure together.  Look forward to seeing what it’ll be!