#i dunno i just really like the concepts those all had

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

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buff guy

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ʚ Bonus: 1 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, just a normal day with your work bestie

❥ A/N: hello hello!! An anon suggested a bonus chapter and i got really inspired!! I might make this a regular thing if i have extra ideas that i don't put in the main story :) i would love to know what you guys think about this concept and i hope you enjoy!!

“Latte for Jackie!”

The woman comes to retrieve her cup, thanking you before leaving the shop. The rush has now subsided and you are left alone with Liz.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by customers,” Liz leans against the counter, grabbing her drink, “are you still thinking about Saturday?” You shrug, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know. I just can’t stop thinking about Brittany and Sara being worried about me and Guy.” You look at her. “Should I be?”

Liz shrugs.

“I dunno, girl. I’ve dated violent junkies before so my self preservation isn’t the best.” You hum, grabbing your coffee and taking a sip.

“I mean, it is weird that he doesn’t have any friends that he talks about. I talk about you all the time—”

“Aww—”

“—and he’s fine with it but he never talks about his personal life. We had one really good date where he told me about his family but that was about it. Or maybe he’s talked about it before and I just can’t remember? I don’t know…”

“Well, he seems nice enough. You’re a grown woman; you can figure out on your own if he’s right for you or not.”

“I know, but… what if they’re right? What if he is a psychopath and I just don’t know it?”

“Like how?” You finish off your coffee, already making a new one.

“Like what if he’s just getting close to me so he can kidnap me or something? Like what if he’s one of those guys that wants to keep a woman captive all the time and make her submissive to him? That’s a kink, isn’t it?”

“Has he ever acted like that before?”

“No, but he just does things without asking. He buys me things, we always drive in his car, he even picked me up one time, I told you about that—”

“You did—”

“—and he just has such a dominant presence sometimes, like he scares people!”

“I don’t think he does that on purpose—”

“He scared that kid one time that he thought was flirting with me!”

“Yeah, but that’s because he was scared that kid was gonna go after his girl.”

The espresso finishes and you sigh, adding oatmilk.

“I don’t know. I keep having these weird thoughts about him.”

“Weird how?”

“Well…” You stir your coffee. “One time I imagined he was in the mafia.” Liz snorts, covering her mouth. “This isn’t funny Liz!”

“It kind of is! The mafia?! What is this, 1936? Do you really think the mafia exists anymore?”

“It could! Gangs still exist, why couldn’t the mafia?” She shrugs.

“Well, if they do exist, they’re not as popular as they used to be. Must be doing a pretty shitty job if no one talks about them anymore.”

“But, like, what if he is in the mafia? Like, where does he get all this money from? All the expensive stuff he owns?”

“Isn’t he a CEO?”

“That’s what he says…”

“Do you know how much he makes a year? CEOs make a pretty penny, and it sounds like his daddy was pretty rich being a lawyer and all, so he probably comes from money. Wouldn’t be surprised if he had a trust fund that paid for his college and living expenses for a while.”

You think, chewing your straw.

“But he’s so domineering. People respect him and get so scared of him.”

“Well, he is a pretty big guy. What is he, like, a whole foot taller than you?”

“I dunno, maybe…”

“That’s tall, Y/N. And he’s all muscle. He stands out like a sore thumb; no wonder people look at him and get intimidated.”

You inhale sharply, letting the air out slow.

“What if he’s just using me for something?”

“Like what?”

“Sex!”

“Girl, be so for real right now.” She finishes her coffee, setting down the empty cup. “You guys went two whole months without doing anything sexual: don’t you think, if he wanted you for sex, he would have given up when you didn’t immediately put out?”

“I—”

“And isn’t he the one who is trying to go slow? You said he wanted to take you someplace nice and be all romantic and shit.”

“Yeah…”

“So? Doesn’t that make you think he likes you for more than sex?”

“Why does he even like me in the first place?”

“Oh my god, girl, don’t do this—”

“I’m not a model! I’m not strong, and I’m not the smartest. My body is all lumpy and flabby: he could have anyone he wants, so why me?”

“Because you’re special! You’re beautiful and sweet and you’ve got the best customer service on this side of the country! People envy you, Y/N!”

“No they don’t—”

“You think they don’t? Girl, be serious. I’ve seen the way some women look at you, like they wanna be you, like they wanna kill you so that they look better in comparison.”

“Jesus, Liz, that’s graphic.”

“It’s true! You know that newbie, Jessica? She sucks at her job and complains that you make it look so easy.” You pause, playing with your straw.

“I’ve only trained Jessica, like, twice.”

“Yeah, but she can see how good you are at what you do. You’re so good with the customers, and you’re fast and effective. You rarely make mistakes, and when you do, you happily fix them. Jessica is so jealous it’s gross.”

“...Does Jessica really not like me?”

“Who cares?! She’s a twenty-something brat who is only working this job so she can be the ‘cool girl’ who works at a coffee shop. She’s annoying; you don’t want someone like her to like you.”

You chug the rest of your coffee, breathing deep when it’s gone.

“I don’t know, I just feel so inadequate sometimes.”

“I get it, but that’s just your brain talking nonsense. It’s always done that.”

“I just… I don’t feel good enough and I feel like there’s something wrong with Mo for liking me and…” You hurriedly start making another coffee, “and what if he’s not who he says he is and he ends up being horrible and—”

“Oh my god, babe, do not make another coffee.” She grabs your hands, putting them down. “Lemme make you a tea or something; you gotta calm down.”

You sigh, stepping back from the counter and letting her work. She grabs a couple tea bags and tosses them in a cup, adding boiling water to them, grabbing some sugar and mixing it in. She does her magic and hands you the cup. You hold the warm container in your hands for a moment before you hesitantly take a sip.

“Oh my god, that’s good. What is this?”

“Peach chamomile tea. Got it in yesterday; it’s part of the new summer collection.”

“It’s yummy.”

“It’s gonna be a hit with the tea lovers.”

You sip quietly as another customer enters the coffee shop. Liz takes their order and makes their drink as you stand there, trying to calm down. When the customer leaves, she’s back beside you.

“I think you should talk to your therapist about this.”

“She retired.”

“What?! Lynda retired? What the hell? She was so good for you.”

“I know… I just don’t want to start over with someone new.”

“I get it. I’m the same.” She sighs. “Well, you might as well start paying me then, since I’m practically your therapist now.”

“Shut up,” you say, playfully shoving her shoulder. She laughs.

“Oh, c’mon. I’m trying to make you smile.”

“It’s working.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

Silence overcomes you again, the gentle music of the coffee shop filling the room.

“If it really bothers you, you should talk to Mohammed about this stuff. You know he’ll reassure you in a heartbeat.”

“I know… I just… don’t want him to try and push down my thoughts.”

“Push down?”

“Like, disregard them. I want him to take them seriously and not treat me like I’m crazy.”

“Has he ever done that before?”

“...No.”

“Then why would he start now?”

The door chimes, and you turn to see Guy entering. He’s wearing a dark suit, and two men in suits are walking in behind him. You lean towards Liz.

“Oh my god, he is part of the mafia!”

Liz bursts out laughing, tossing her head back before going to the register.

“What’s up, dude?”

“Not much. You two having fun?”

“As always.”

“That’s good.” He pulls out his wallet. “I’m gonna need about a dozen of your most popular drinks.”

“What’s the occasion?” Liz asks.

“We’ve got a big meeting in about an hour. I think having some drinks would impress the client.”

“Why didn’t you have your secretary or someone else come get em?”

He glances at Liz, then at you, giving a soft smile. She glances between the two of you and smiles.

“Ah, I see. Sure, that’s no problem. You want Y/N to go on her break so you two can hang out?”

“I can’t stay long. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You want me to just pick some drinks for you or…?”

“Sure, that works. Whatever you think is best.”

“Got it.”

You glance at the men behind him, wondering.

“Who are they?” you ask, your voice tiny.

“Oh,” he glances behind him. “These are a couple of the interns. I brought them along to carry the coffee.”

“Ah…” He looks at you, frowning.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I was just… spiraling a little.”

“Too much coffee,” Liz chimes in, tapping away at the register.

“I see.” He steps closer to you, leaning over the counter. “I have to do this meeting, but I can bring you lunch afterward, if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…”

He twists his mouth, not looking convinced. An idea pops into your head and you stand up straight.

“Ah… do you have a company ID card or something?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Can I look at it?”

He furrows his brow, but nods, reaching into his coat.

“Sure.”

He pulls out a sleek card, handing it to you. You take it, analyzing it.

“’Mohammed Smith’?” You look up at him. “Your last name is ‘Smith’?”

“Yeah. Is that bad?”

“No, no, of course not! I just… with a name like ‘Mohammed’, I expected something less common than… well, ‘Smith’.” He shrugs.

“It’s my dad’s last name. My mother named me.”

You hum, looking over the card some more.

“’Resurrection Technologies’?”

“So, what exactly does you company do, Mr. Smith?” Liz asks.

“Please never call me ‘Mr. Smith’ again.” She laughs and he rolls his eyes. “We do mostly health technology, like MRIs and CAT scans and PET scans. We try to build and improve on the technology we have, making it more effective at detecting abnormalities in the human body. We’re trying to make it easier to detect diseases early on with technology.”

“Woah…” Liz tilts her head. “So who’s the meeting with?”

“A health insurance company. We’re doing a presentation on a new MRI machine that is more open, making it easier for people with claustrophobia, but also takes good images, since that’s one of the downsides of an open MRI machine. We’re trying to convince them to invest in our product and distribute it to different hospitals.”

“That’s actually really cool!”

“Yeah, it is. I think the machines we make are very effective, and I believe in our product. I just have to make others believe in it too.”

“Nice.” Liz turns to you, pointing at Guy. “See? Not a mafia boss.”

“What?” he asks, and you sputter.

“Y/N was worried you were part of the mafia because you’re strong and have lots of money.”

Guy snorts, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep his laughter to a minimum.

“It’s not funny!” you insist, but even the interns are snickering quietly. You hang your head in embarrassment, and Liz pats your shoulder.

“It’s okay, girlie. At least you have less to worry about now. Now, come on. We got some drinks to make.”

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake – From Vigilante to Infinite Realms Royalty

It was one of those things that Tim never imagined would happen, not in his wildest Gotham nights. But then again, dating Danny Fenton, aka Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, came with more than just the usual paranormal hijinks.

Tim was used to strange things, but being royalty? That was definitely new.

The revelation hit him one evening when Danny casually mentioned it, like he was talking about the weather.

“You know you’re technically royalty now, right?” Danny said, lounging upside down in the air like it was the most normal thing ever.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Royalty? What are you talking about?”

Danny grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, you’re dating me. And I’m the King of the Infinite Realms. So that makes you my consort… which, you know, technically makes you royalty too.”

Tim froze. “Wait—what? That’s not how this works. I didn’t sign up for—”

“Oh, but it is how it works. Welcome to ghost politics, Drake.”

And that’s when Tim realized his life just got infinitely more complicated.

Naturally, the bats found out. Because of course they did. And it spiraled into something Tim really didn’t want to deal with.

It started when he casually mentioned it during a meeting in the Batcave. He figured it wasn’t a big deal. After all, being ‘royalty’ in a ghost dimension didn’t really change anything, right?

Wrong.

Bruce didn’t even flinch. He just kept typing at the Batcomputer. “You’re dating the Ghost King, and now you’re royalty?”

“Technically, yes,” Tim said, trying not to sound too defensive.

Bruce glanced at him. “I see.”

That was all he said. But it was enough to make Tim feel like he’d just announced he was moving to the moon.

Jason, of course, immediately jumped on it. “Hold up. So you’re, like, ghost royalty now? Does that mean you get a crown or something?”

Tim shot him a glare. “No, I’m not getting a crown.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Jason grinned. “Sounds like royalty to me. Next thing you know, we’re gonna be bowing to Prince Drake of the Phantom Zone.”

“It’s not the Phantom Zone, Todd.”

Damian, predictably, was furious. “This is ridiculous. You, Drake? Royalty? You are not fit for any throne, especially one in the Infinite Realms. The entire concept is absurd.”

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m not ruling anything, Damian. It’s just a title.”

“An unearned one,” Damian muttered under his breath.

Steph, on the other hand, thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Wait, wait. So if you and Danny are together for real, does that mean we have to call you ‘Your Highness’? I need to know. Are there royal ghost duties? Do you have to make decrees?”

“No. Please stop,” Tim groaned.

But the worst part? The teasing didn’t stop. Every dinner, every mission, every time Tim walked into the room, someone had something to say.

“So, Tim,” Dick said one day with a grin. “Have you started planning ghostly state visits yet? I’m sure the Justice League would love to attend a royal banquet in your honor.”

“No state visits,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “I don’t even rule anything.”

“Sure you don’t, ‘Your Ghostliness,’” Jason added with a laugh.

The bats seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world. Tim? Not so much. But he had to admit, ghost politics were no joke. He was already getting drawn into weird Infinite Realms power struggles, where ancient beings would bow to him and ghosts would whisper about “the King’s consort.”

At first, Tim tried to play it off. He didn’t need the title. He wasn’t about to walk around with a crown and robes, or start making royal proclamations. But when one of the ghost courtiers addressed him as “My Lord,” he couldn’t help but cringe.

Danny found the whole thing hilarious. “Don’t worry,” he’d say with a smirk. “You won’t have to do anything royal. It’s just… a perk.”

“Some perk,” Tim muttered.

Still, despite all the teasing and the bizarre ghostly politics, Tim knew one thing for sure: he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Dating Danny came with chaos, sure. But at the end of the day, Tim was okay with it. Even if it meant being ghost royalty.

Just… no crown. Ever.

[mncxbe]

#SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

𝑫𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒄𝒘: in which reader is an erotica photographer who goes at the same uni as Denji// spicy pics, power imbalance, biting/ marking, nsfw, denji with a collar. 𝒂/𝒏: i'm experimenting a bit with different ideas and concepts

when you scouted Denji on campus a few days ago you didn't actually expect him to show up for the shoot. but there he was, awkwardly standing at your doorstep with his hands in his pockets, forcing that silly smile of his.

"hey so... i'm here for the pictures. dunno if you remember me. i'm Denji"

stepping aside, you let the blond enter your apartment. he looked around with curious eyes, taking in his surroundings: your place was neat, modern, nothing too expensive but certainly impressive for a college student. "yea, i remember you" you smiled, motioning him to take a seat on the leather couch"make yourself comfortable. i'll bring you a coffee and the consent form and walk you through the process."

Denji nodded, his gaze lingering on your frame as you made your way to the kitchen. you needn't even see him to know that he was shamelessly trying to look under your skirt. the coffee machine buzzed as you started it and you looked back at the blond.

he was staring at his shoes, mindlessly tapping his foot on your fluffy carpet and picking at his nails. cute... you thought, mentally praising yourself for scouting him.

Denji was one of those pretty guys who weren't even aware of how charming they were. with his dumb smile and scruffy hair he looked just like a puppy– and that was exactly what you needed for your photographs.

once you returned with his coffee you started explaining all the details: what the shoot entailed and when he'd receive the payment, you told him that you'd also use props (he didn't comment on that) and that the pictures would be sold to private buyers so there was no risk of them ending up online. Denji simply nodded, occasionally sipping his coffee as his eyes scanned the consent form. you were fairly sure he didn't even read half of it before signing his name in the corner.

"good, that's all, right? i'm ready to start when you are." he beamed and you walked him to your makeshift studio. it was a large room with boxes and racks filled with clothes and props- masks, leashes, cuffs, ropes– all that you needed for your shoots. Denji's face flushed at the sight and he looked at you over his shoulder. "are we gonna use all that?"

it took all your self restraint not to roll your eyes at him. did he really not pay attention to what you just told him? "no, Denji, we won't use everything. i'll figure out during the shoot what works and what doesn't, but let's take it easy. take off your shirt for now."

the blond hastly discarded his washed up t-shirt on the floor and crosses his arms over his chest. You were stunned to see how toned his body was, but it was a pleasant surprise. setting up your camera, you took a few experimental shoots, adjusting the lights.

Denji's excitement and confidence wavered when you started photographing him. he had no idea how to sit or stand or what to do with his hands and seeing you in front of him certainly didn't help his situation. to ease up the tension, he forced a smile, trying to make conversation.

"can I ask you something? i was wondering what made you choose me? i mean, i'm not the most handsome guy around."

there it was, the question you hated answering most. all guys that you work with were under the impression that there was something special about them. in a way, there was, but you never told them the truth, just like you wouldn't admit it to Denji. after all, how could you tell him that you didn't choose him for his looks, but for his attitude? he was the ideal model: compliant, a bit shy and obviously attracted to you. half hoping that you'd sleep with him after the shoot or at least let him take you out on a date, he was eager to please, to earn your praise, to give himself up on a silver platter for a pat on the head. and you could tell all that just by the way he looked at you with that imploring expression.

"i really like your hair" you said instead "and don't worry about your appearance, making you look good is my job. i work with average and make it spectacular."

your answer seemed to satisfy his curiosity for he smiled, looking down at his body "ah I see. it's good then"

from then you officially started the shoot.

as expected, Denji did everything you asked him to. he did a good job hiding his nervousness, swallowing the lump in his throat whenever you stepped closer to him or put him in different positions. the photos weren't that explicit, he'd expected way worse, so little by little, you eased him into the shoot. his tense muscles relaxed and the pictures got better. that was the key to a good shoot, making them feel comfortable enough to give you what you wanted.

"okay... these are great. you're doing a good job, Denji" you hummed and the blond's cheeks flushed red at your praise. "i wanna try something different now. get on your knees"

Denji kneeled, his gaze following you as you scrambled through a box of props. he tried not to stare at your thighs but hell, they looked so pretty in those fishnets and that tight skirt you wore hugged your curves so perfectly. he could feel his pants tighten at the sight but he quickly regained his composure when you turned to face him. you closed the distance between you two, crouching in front of him. "i want you to put this on" you smiled softly, handing him a black collar.

a trace of uncertainty flashed on his features but he eagerly complied, unbuckling the collar and wrapping it around his neck. you could feel his rapid pulse when you helped him fasten the collar, his ragged breaths hot against your cheek. "is it comfortable?"

"yea, super okay." he deadpanned, his voice a bit shaky. you attached the leash to the metal ring of the collar and wrapped it around your left palm, giving it an experimental tug. Denji huffed, a hushed mewl spilling from his lips.

"s-shit sorry for that..." he fumbled, blushing even more but before he could finish his apology you lifted your foot off the floor and placed it on his shoulder, shifting closer to him. your heel dug painfully into his skin but he couldn't care less about it. his breath grew shaky as the inner part of your thigh brushed against his cheek. "what are you doing?"

"trying out some new angles. you look good like this." you answered in a level voice, though you couldn't deny that seeing Denji like this had an effect on you. he did little to hide how much he was enjoying himself: his eyes were glazed over, droopy, a dumb smile etched onto his lips. from where you were standing you could clearly make out the outline of the bulge in his pants.

"don't you think we're a bit too close? i mean, is this professional?" he mumbled between the clicks and blinks of your camera, asking such an innocent question as if he weren't about to cum in his pants. professionalism my ass you wanted to retort but you bit your tongue, knowing that he was simply trying to make conversation and calm his nerves.

"some of the buyers like it when there's a feminine presence in the pictures too. if it helps with anything, just think of me as a prop."

"I see..." he mused, moaning softly as you gave a leash another tug, making him look up at the lens. "what other stuff do they like?"

Denji rested his head on your thigh, peering up at you. his brown eyes looked so pretty in this light and you could feel your stomach churn. you shouldn't be attracted to him, it was one of your ground rules– keep your work and private life separate. still, maybe indulging him wouldn't be that bad... it was just a simple conversation.

"all kinds of stuff" you answered, adjusting your position so that his chin rested on your navel, his head tilted up at the camera. he looked just like a puppy. "everyone is into something different, some prefer close ups, others full body shorts with light props, most of them aren't that much into the extreme stuff like full on bondage..."

your voice drifted off for a moment but Denji's gaze never left yours "anyway, as a general rule, the photos that sell the best are the expressive ones"

"expressive how?" he asked meekly and you snapped a few more pictures before answering. "I guess people want to buy emotions. they don't buy a portrait just because the model is pretty, they want to be able to feel what you feel. that's why more intimate pictures sell so well"

you took a step back and Denji quickly grasped your thigh, pulling you closer. you wanted to slap his hand away but something prevented you from doing it. he seemed... contemplative? his gaze traced your body as he caressed your skin with his thumb, toying with the mesh fabric of your stockings "so I should show emotion?" he eventually asked, letting out a dry chuckle "and here I thought i had to act like a tough guy."

without a warning, Denji hooked your leg over his shoulder and looked back at you again. "think we can take more photos like this?"

"s-sure" you said hesitantly, not knowing what he had in mind. you yelped when the blond suddenly bit down on your thigh, his sharp teeth piercing through your stockings. his tongue flicked over the indent marks as he sucked on your skin, leaving red marks behind. when he looked back at you his once shy, calculated expression was gone, replaced by a lustful one. you quickly snapped a picture and checked to see how to turned out– it was the best so far and you instantly knew it'd make good money.

"shit, Denji. keep doing that" you urged him and he obeyed, returning to kissing and licking your skin. his hands gripped your thigh, kneading your soft flesh as his mouth worked its way up to the edge of your skirt then slipped under.

you knew you should put an end to this before it got too far but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Denji's hands came to rest on your hips as he pushed up your skirt and licked a stripe of your clothed cunt, his hungry eyes locked on yours. you almost dropped the camera at the feeling, your body shuddering lightly as your fingers tangled in his hair. "fuck–" you huffed and Denji moaned into your pussy, dragging his tongue along the fabric of your panties.

"is this alright?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper and you could feel yourself getting ten times wetter. "y-yea, it's good" you babbled out, struggling to keep yourself steady on your feet. he looked up at you wish a lovesick smile as he pulled down your panties and you placed the camera back on its tripod.

the shoot was the last thing on your mind as you grinded on his face, your face scrunching up in pleasure. you got all the photos you needed anyway, you put in some good, honest work. why not reward yourself a little? pushing back the nagging thoughts in your mind telling you not to break one of the few rules you set for yourself, you allowed Denji to work you up to your high.

the rest of the evening was like a fever dream. if someone were to tell you that's you'd end up fucking Denji by the end of the night you'd laugh in their face. still, you could hardly help yourself when he was so eager to please you. so you simply got carried away and crossed some personal boundaries, which resulted in one of the best nights of your life. but you felt a bit bad for him, he was a sweet guy who deserved more than a hookup.

that's probably why you agreed to give him your number and go on a date with him before he left and offered to send him some of the pictures from last night (something that you never did since you didn't want your work to end up in some weird corner of the internet). yea, it was surely just pity, cause there was no way that you actually caught feelings for Denji after that night... right?

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.  

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,��� Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with six confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

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[judesmoonbeauty]

𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟠

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

CW: Briefly discusses child's death.

Jude: Revenge’s done ‘n over with.

Kate: What……?

Jude: Hah, what’s that stupid look. Gonna gussy up someone’s life t’make it out to be some pretty tale?

Kate: But Jude, you setup your company to get revenge for your sister, and now…..

Even now, he continues to condemn arrogant and inhumane people like the nobleman who took his sister.

—As a story, it makes for a beautiful plot.

Kate: ….Isn’t that the case?

Jude: Lemme serve the delusional princess a reality check. I’m only gonna say it once, s’listen up.

Jude dropped his gaze from the paperwork he’d been reviewing, and looked straight at me.

Jude: By the time I started up my company right after graduation. I’d already had my sights on that noble.

Jude: He’d been strugglin’ with taxes from the beginnin’, ‘n he was drownin’ in debt.

Jude: So, I seized all his assets, mansion, land ‘n went t’see him.

Jude: Marched in there ‘n started interrogatin’ ‘em ‘bout my sister, but none of the nobles answered.

I was dumbfounded at the lifeless words that were being spewed.

Kate: Nothing? Why not?

Kate: …..No matter how you look at it, it’s impossible to forget about someone you purchased with money!

Jude: Hah, ‘n that’s ‘cause yer a naive princess.

Jude: The nobles weren’t lyin’ ‘cause the really forgot.

Jude: When I threatened the servant he started shakin’ ‘n fessed up. Said he’d buried s’many in the garden that he couldn’t remember whose who.

Kate: That’s….

The world out there was even more insane than I thought it.

They buy people on a whim, treat them like toys, rob them of their lives, and then say, “I don’t remember anything.”

Kate: Then, what happened to the nobleman….after you found him?

Even if the person forgot, there’s no way Jude would forgive him.

Jude: Introduced him to my ol’ man ‘n older brother who’re still workin’ at the docks, eekin’ out a livin’.

Jude uses a metaphoric term here “sipping on muddy water,” it has various meanings depending on context, but they mostly surround the concept of struggling to live even if it means you have to sip muddy water (or doing things you don’t want to do.)

Jude: Doin’ harsh, manual labor with the bloke ya sold yer daughter to, ain’t that the best?

Jude: Had subordinates watchin’ over ‘em, as they weakened, smeared in humiliation from harsh work.

His amethyst eyes didn’t even waver.

Kate: …..So, what are they doing now?

Jude: Dunno.

They’re definitely dead.

The tone of Jude’s voice was so icy, that much was clear.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel the world’s temperature at all.

Kate: Thanks for telling me…..

Jude: What’s that grim look?

Jude: Hard t’understand why I’m still torturin’ rich folks, ‘n takin’ their money when my revenge’s done with?

Kate: Well….

I remembered the time when we barged into the mansion of the nobleman who engaged in human-trafficking.

(Jude rentlessly kicked the nobleman, and laughed in delight when he fell into a pool of blood—)

It’s difficult to believe that there wasn’t the slightest bit of revenge in that.

Jude: Ha, it’s simple.

Jude sneered at my confusion.

Kate: If it’s not for revenge….then, why’d you beat him within an inch of his life?

Jude: I’m tellin’ ya, that torturin’ rich people’s just a fun hobby.

Jude: Ain’t nothin’ more fun than draggin’ down those who’re arrogant ‘cause of money ‘n power.

(Hobby….)

I swallowed those words down to my stomach.

—Still, I don’t think it’s as simple as summing it up with a single word.

(….Is what you said just now, how you really feel Jude?)

However, if I say something unnecessary, then he’ll give me the cold shoulder twice as much.

Kate: As fine a hobby as ever.

When I talked back as usual, Jude raised an eyebrow.

Jude: That right?

Jude: And…

Jude: …..Gotta troublesome promise t’keep.

The eyes that had been steadfast until now, shook ever so faintly.

Kate: …Promise?

Jude: …………

Jude: It’s nunya business. Time fer lil’ birds to go beddie bye.

Kate: Whaaaat, what promise? I won’t be able to sleep now because I’m curious — Oof!

Something hard and flat was pushed against my face.

What I pulled off my flattened nose was a book.

Jude: I’ll lend it to ya. Read it ‘n go to bed.

Jude: Yer disruptin’ my work.

Kate: Hey, wai-

He pushed me into the corridor and slammed the door in my face.

Kate: Just a-

I sighed, and then looked down at the book that had been pushed onto me —

Kate: Jules Verne’s, “From the Earth to the Moon”, Part one.

It’s the book that Jude always carries around with him.

Returning to my room, I sat on my bed and started leafing through the pages.

As I turned the slightly worn pages, I recalled what Jude said.

[A series of flashbacks start - Chapter 3 starts]

Jude: Wouldn’t be a problem if ya were buyin’ ‘n sellin’ shady stuff. Illegal drugs ain’t a big deal.

Jude: But…..

Jude: Doesn’t the contract state “human-traffickin’s” prohibited?

[Chapter 3 ends - Flashes to Chapter 6]

Kate: Anyway, the club turned up clean, so Crown doesn’t need to condemn it, right?

Jude: Yeah it’ll be left alone, whether that stupid place’s ‘round or not, it ain’t for better or worse.

Jude: ‘Sides….it’s better than buyin’ ’n playin’ with women for their bodies, innit?

[Flashbacks End]

(I finally understand the reason for Jude’s sensitivity to human-trafficking.)

A heart-shattering past, and the cruel fate that befell his sister.

(When we first met, Jude wasnt’ happy about me becoming the fairytale keeper…..)

Maybe it’s because he knows better than most people, about human’s sinfulness.

(Because he was trying to keep me from danger?)

(….Maybe I’m just overthinking in a way that would be convenient to me.)

I’m aware that from Jude’s perspective, I’m unimportant.

However, I wanted to know what type of person Jude was, to understand — That’s what I was thinking.

Resting my chin in my hand, I turned the next page.

(I’m also curious about the promise Jude said he had to keep….)

But, I have no idea what it could be.

When I lowered my gaze to the page…..

The protagonists of the novel came up with an ambitious plan to launch a men to the moon with a giant cannon.

[Flashback]

Kate: Jude, do you like the moon?

Jude: …………

Jude: …..I hate it.

Jude: It’s so stupidly bright, ya can’t forget it even if ya wanna forget it.

Jude: ……Revoltin’.

[Flashback ends]

(Yet, Jude always carries this book on him.)

Kate: I wonder if this book has something to do with the promise?

(There’s still a lot I don’t know, but no matter what…)

(I hope the promise Jude has to fulfill is a reasonable one.)

The kanji used for reasonable can also be translated as peaceful, calm, gentle. I opted for reasonable...because what he's trying to accomplish is crazy for his time.

I wished that in my heart.

[Transitions to Raven Co.]

Even after the day I learned about Jude’s past, I was being worked away at Raven Company.

Theodore: Ahhh!

Kate: What’s wrong, Theo?

Theodore: It’s the prez’s fountain pen! Had a mind t’return it to him, but he’s already left.

Theo holds his head in his hands while holding the expensive fountain with a thorn engraved on it’s cap.

Theodore: Aaaaaah, I’m gonna get yelled at later. But, I gotta business meetin’ now……

[Answer: I’ll deliver it +4/+4 ]

Kate: If I chase after him now, I should make it in time. I’ll deliver it.

Theodore: Really? Kate, yer a GODDESS! Thanks a lot!

Kate: We’re in the same boat when there’s trouble. I’ll handle it.

After I took the pen, I lifted my skirt and chased after Jude.

(He only left a little while ago….)

Although I was running to the point of sweating, I couldn’t find him and I was getting a bit anxious….

Kate: Oh!

I spotted his jacket fluttering ahead of me —

Quickly, I turned the corner where Jude vanished. And then…..

Man In Work Clothes 1: Take the test subject to the hospital quickly.

People in work clothes come towards me carrying gurneys.

(I’m getting in the way….)

As I quickly move out of the way, I overheard their conversation as we pass each other.

Man In Work Clothes 2: But, this test subject is definitely a criminal who was thrown into the lab, right?

Man In Work Clothes 1: That’s right, but if the president says not to kill them, we don’t have a choice.

(….Lab? Not that president, right?)

I peeked into the entrance of the warehouse where the gurney had come from.

Light poured into the room from a high ceiling that seemed built like an airship. - Here the literal translation states, built on an airship. Upon research, I believe Kate is making a comparison to the height or shape of the ceiling, so I’ll translate it like this.

Jude: Experiment’s failed again. Show me the experimentation results.

Researcher: This way. We’ve installed an oxygen generator in the air-sealed cabin.

Researcher: Perhaps, the balance between the air pressure regulation and oxygen supply wasn’t working properly.

Jude: There’s still a risk of fuel explosion ‘n airframe damage.

Researcher: Yes, there’s many challenges.

Researcher: However, if this increased stress experiment is successful, there’s hope.

(…..Increased…..Stress experiment?)

Each conversation I hear is riddled with questions.

(Just what on earth is Jude researching?)

What is clear is that it’s neither a Crown mission or a job for Raven Co.

(Should I call out for him? But…..)

Seeing Jude look unusually serious….I left the place quietly.

Jude: …………?

Researcher: …..President, what’s wrong?

Jude: …..Nah, it’s nothin’.

— When the darkness of the city begins to deepen.

Pub Employee: Welcome. Only one?

Jude: …………

???: ……….

Jude: ……Nah, there’s two of us.

Jude: Why dontcha come out ‘stead of followin’ people ‘round all sneaky?

It wasn’t Kate who appeared, but one from Vogel.

Nica: It’s amazing that you noticed. People who earn so many grudges that they almost get killed every day are different.

Nica Schwartz took a seat next to him unashamedly.

Nica: Oh, bartender. I’ll have a club soda with a squeeze of lemon.

Jude: ……….

Jude’s sigh blends into the clamor of the pub as he orders a whiskey.

Jude: Vogel seems t’have heaps o’ free time. I’m jealous yer able t’sightsee all carefree.

Nica: Right? Britain’s great.

Nica: So, let’s toast to this miraculous encounter.

Jude stared at Nica, who was cheerfully trying engage, with a weirded out look and took a sip from the glass that was brought out instead of toasting. (¬_¬)

With the smoky aftertaste lingering, Jude pierced Nica with a glare.

Jude: Ain’t interested in havin’ drinks with people who can’t make money.

Jude: Wouldja hurry up ‘n get to the point?

Nica: Hmmm, you’re an impatient president.

Nica washed down his club soda with dissatisfied look….

Nica: Darius Vogel.

Nica: I’m on orders to investigate Crown, from my Director.

He confessed quickly.

Nica: Oh, don’t misunderstand. We just want to deepen our friendship.

Jude: I feel sick.

Jude: If snoopin’ ‘rounds what yer friendships ‘bout, then communication’s over with.

Nica: Ahaha, thanks for the advice. Now, onto the main topic.

Nica: Jude Jazza. You’re conducting an experiment and you’re keeping it from Crown.

[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 9]

T/L: Don't worry, the dots get connected for Kate soon. Annnyway, poor Nica, he tried LOL.

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne

If you wish to be added (and 18+ YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[stealingpotatoes]

First off, oh my god yay!!! I have never before been there when your ask box is open!

Second off, I love your art!! Especially the TL4J AU's and Force ghosts exploration!

I dunno why, but the concept of those 4 bonding after they've lost so much (Luke - Vader, his aunt and uncle, innocence, mentors. Ahsoka & Cal - all the Jedi, innocence, childhood, everyone they knew. Ezra - years of his life, 2 father figures, childhood, home) just really appeals to me as like the core of the Star Wars main found family story. And I just really love the concept of the force ghosts looking over those they left behind. And the humor that you add in that with your amazing art style is so cool!

With that being said, I'd love to see more art of them with Leia & Han or the handmaidens! and if you're willing, the ghosts too!

Also your cat is amazing! a true role model for us all. Does he also like potatoes?

omg hi!!! thank you yeah i LOVE tl4j's dynamic so so much, as u said they've lost CRAZY amounts and all of them haven't had anyone properly like them for at least a decade (obvs luke has force sensitive leia, but she's not a proper jedi, same for merrin/kata-ish n cal) but here they are!! with 3 other jedi, who Get It! and not only that, they're together and getting to rebuild the order from its ashes in relative safety <3

[la-gotica-fantasma]

8 realistic situations to add to your writing -

Disclaimers: I cannot stress enough that I am not at all trying to tell you what to write, these are just some concepts / prompts. - My title does not mean that your more lovey-dovey scenes are unrealistic, I just couldn't think of how to title this - Some of these are scenes that have been used in my writing, so if by the off chance you are using any of these, please don’t copy the dialogue word for word. :}

ROMANTIC -

1) When both of them are cuddling / holding hands and one of them starts sweating.

★ “Ugh! I love you, but I don’t love all this sweat you produce!” “But it’s my love for you seeping out of my pores!” “I couldn't care less what it is. Off!” “Fine, your majesty.”

2) Each character hating their mother in law / partners mother

★ “Mom is asking to visit.” “And do what?” “I’m not sure, check up on everyone?” “She can check up her own ass for the stick I know she’s lost up there.”

★ “Well, your mother is no saint.” “She never claimed to be!” “Uh-huh, and when has mine?” “Circa-” “Okay! Truce?” “Truce.”

3) Character X bringing up a pet peeve they have with Character Y at a family gathering.

★ “Character Y does this one thing when they eat- they never scoop up their food with their fork, they’ll just attack it! Sometimes I can’t stand it.” “You never told me that bothered you?” “It didn’t bother me enough to mention it.” “Not until a family dinner?” “I didn’t mean anything negative by it-” **cue Character Y aggressively attacking their food with their fork** “Okay, I get it! We’ll talk later.”

4) Character X and Character Y bake with each other, except realistically.

★ “Character X, why are your arms wrapped around me?” “Because I love you.” “I love you too but I also love being able to actually mix the ingredients together.”

★ “Get the eggs!” “You told me to stop buying eggs because ‘inflation will kill us all’.” “I wasn’t wrong but, UGH-! I need eggs!” “Well I got them anyway, but still.”

★ “Stop touching things!” “How am I supposed to bake without touching anything?!” “You aren’t!”

5) Planning lies they'll tell in 5 years when people ask how they met.

★ "What if we say that we were playing bumper cars and I hit you so hard I fell into your car?" "Hmm.. how about we say that I was going to my best friends wedding and I was all down and glum, but a friend of mine told me to 'have some fun' and that maybe I'd meet someone special at the wedding, and that's when I saw you. You and a little yellow umbrella that I've seen in so many places before, and we just talked about our past together?" "I think that's been done before." "By who?" "One of the most popular rom-coms ever aired."

★ "We could say I saved you from-" "I'm gonna stop you right there." "Fine. What's your idea then, if you're so smart?" "We tell them we met in a psychiatric ward." "Wow. Exquisite thinking." "Just imagine the looks on their faces!"

PLATONIC / ROMANTIC -

6) Those moments where neither party can decide on something so they do nothing, only for them both to yell out what they want and it coincidentally be an agreement.

★ “What do you want for dinner?” “I’m not sure, what do you want?” “I dunno.” **cue them both lazing around, doing nothing for minutes** “Spaghetti.” “It’s like you can read my mind.”

7) Character X asking Character Y how their day went, and Character Y just breaks down in tears- not because their day was bad, but just because Character X asked.

★ “Hi, how was work?” **cue ‘ugly’ sobbing** “Oh no, was it really that bad?” “No- It just- It was just- sweet to- ask-”

8) Stuff that should be awkward really not being awkward at all.

★ “Did you just fart?” “Yeah.” “Okay, good.” “‘Good’?” “Good that it’s not a gas leak.” “Yeah, I had to force it out a little bit.” "So definitely not a leak." "Definitely not."

p.s. Your writing is captivating as always suga, and I am abidingly proud of you and your work. <3

Morbid affection,

- Tipsy ᓚᘏᗢ

[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 1) (Interactive Story)

Hello everyone! I welcome you with another interactive story. Instead of hand-drawn art, I am going to do some writing for this one.

This story will be using my "Eternal" au concept. ( I dunno if I'll ever post this as a fanfic, so might as well let those curious viewers get a chance to see this some way or another)

If interested you can go to my Au's listed at the top of my homepage to learn a few details of this au, or simply let the story play out to figure out what is going on.

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal

Ships: Shadowpeach

Angst: You betcha

Fluff: With enough choices, maybe we'll get there.

------------story below------------------------

We often take for granted our senses until they are taken away. Touch and smell, these are the few things that we rarely go without as living beings in the world.

Ah, but he wasn't really living anymore, was he?

Liu'er Mihou, the Six-Eared Macaque, shadow of the King... quite literally now.

For years, he had observed Wukong struggling to understand death and desperately trying to avoid it. Time after time, the King collected and consumed immortality, hoarding it for himself without any intention of sharing it with others. Macaque supposed in his conquest to ensure he never died, Wukong didn't quite consider that those around him didn't hold the same invincibility. Macaque being one of those few who lingered around the King. He was a demon, of course, which naturally granted a long life span- but not eternal.

Perhaps that is why Wukong fought with such wild abandon when he struck the Moon Monkey down. And perhaps that is why Wukong's face contorted into a ghostly mask of shock and horror the moment he heard the bone wrenching snap of Liu’er Mihou’s skull.

The trembling of his hands as he held Macaque up, fingers stained red and eyes quivering like a leaf in the wind.

"I-I didn't mean- I thought you were- No... No!!"

Poor excuses to cover up that Wukong just wasn't aware enough to realize he had never once shared a peach of immortality with the raven furred monkey. Never shared a small cup of immortal elixir. Never mattered enough to the King who had everything.

Perhaps Macaque was just too good at pretending that he didn't fear for his life every time he followed the invincible Monkey King out into the world. If he was just a bit easier to read, maybe Wukong would have realized that is oldest friend, the holder of his heart, was just as afraid of death as he was.

So it didn't matter how desperately Wukong tried to stop the bleeding, or sobbed his name, there was no undoing that bludgeoning force that had bashed Macaque's head in two.

After that, a period of darkness ensued. The world turned cold and he couldn't feel the ground beneath him anymore. He couldn't even taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth; all that filled his ears were wet whimpers and the sound of his own heart beating erratically before slowing into silence.

Then even the crying faded away.

He thought the Diyu would claim him then. For what felt like years he waited in that darkness for something to happen. To realize the horrors that always left Wukong quivering in his boots when death took you.

There was nothing. Perhaps this was the punishment? Or was this just what death was- Nothing. How boring. How lonely.

“——-”

If his ears could move, they would have flickered. For a moment, a single moment, undoubtedly insanity, he heard faint murmurs and sounds?

Sometimes they sounded like people talking, a scolding tone or a bout of laughter. Other times it sounded like a battle or conflict. There was the sound of a trotting horse, clinking metal, and a crackling fire. He thought his own mind was torturing him when he swore he heard Wukong laughing.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of running water and a trickling waterfall one day that Macaque recognized a sound. It was hard to ever forget the sounds of one’s own home, after all.

Flower Fruit Mountain.

The sound of the waterfall that marked the entrance to his and Wukong's home was forever etched in his memory. Without hesitation, he traced the source of the sound. It was like swimming through mud, but it led him upward.

Then there was light and he could see!

He was home. He was within the mountain, in the safety of their hut- could he even call it “their” hut anymore. It didn’t matter.

He knew this place. He could see the colors and hear the noises- it only lacked it’s smell.

Dazed, he turned left and right, pinching his own cheeks but finding no sensation as he did so. It had to be a dream...

...a fleeting illusion framed by the memories of life he once knew. He blinked at the vibrant colors around him—the greens of the foliage, the warm browns of the wood, and the brilliant orange of a sunset spilling through the door just ajar. Oh, he was home.

He was home!

Then...

He saw Wukong.

He emerged from their- from the bedroom, removing the armor that adorned his shoulders. Glittering gold that matched his hair and eyes. Macaque staggered back in surprise.

When their eyes locked, he expected Wukong to say something- to glare or sneer- anything...

Wukong's steps were slow, but purposeful as he advanced towards Macaque. A sense of panic gripped Macaque, causing him to involuntarily retreat backwards in fear. Fear of pain. Of going from pain, to nothing, and then back to pain was an unbearable thought.

He inhaled sharply, his own skull aching- reminding him of what Wukong had done. What he could do again. What he would do again! "G-Get away-!" he threw his arm out with little avail to his murderer, his lover, his everything, "Wukong, please!" The tremor in his voice betrayed him, ringing hollow against the walls of their home.

One step, then two, unstopping and unrelenting. Uncaring…

And then moving past him?

Macaque gasped as Wukong’s form, sold and unbreakable, phased right through him. Eyes wide he hiccuped, turning to where Wukong was still walking down that hall. He hadn’t even batted an eye.

Macaque touched his own chest, finding he could, his eyes still glued to Wukong’s back. Eventually he tore his gaze away and looked himself over.

What?

The question held no answer. He heard the door open, and then close- Wukong had left. He was going somewhere. Leaving a mess of scattered belongings and clothes, armor strewn here and there… left to be examined and the house to be freely explored.

How long has Wukong been home? Was the journey over? Where was he going now? Why hadn’t he said anything? Too many questions to investigate.

Next part

[ficandkaboodle]

Vaginismus: Secondo x Fem!Reader

Author's Note: So . . . I'm already really bad at these types of things. But I think writing one of these on this type of subject matter is still important. Fanfiction is kind of a very rough place when it comes to acknowledging or writing for sexual disorders. On one hand, I am to assume this is because fanfic, by its very nature, is meant to be like wish fulfillment. Reader inserts are often meant to be the representations of the best versions of ourselves. But . . . I dunno, I feel like that can only go so far when you see representations of all kinds of disorders or issues or even complete non-issues. And yet virtually nothing is ever made with people who have conditions like vaginismus or whatever in mind. I love a good smut but sometimes, reading stuff makes me flinch inward and all I can focus on is the pain I would be in from even a pinky tip trying anything. I just think it's important to try and remind people that PiV isn't the only way to "get stuff done" and that it should be okay if that's a struggle for you. Some people can work their way out of the condition, and some people never do. And I think it should be okay to write about it because all too often it's easy to forget that or feel like you've lost out on being loved or understood over something that, in the grand scheme, is so silly. And since I have the condition and there's a chance I may never get out of it thanks to my fucked up noggin, I think this should be an opportunity to write about it. Hope I did okay. There might be more to follow . . .

Word Count: 2394 CW: Vaginismus and all the lovely self-loathing it entails, reader has a vagina, references to aspects of BDSM ig, MDNI

In your defense, you didn't think it would go this far. Certainly, one could argue that Secondo was a serious man: He wasn't prone to playing with food that wasn't absolutely his to consume. But you supposed you had forgotten that, or maybe you were just high on the the arrogant assumption that you might be a special case. Or maybe it just slipped your mind to intervene when the teasing glances, subtle and overt flirtations, and little talks between you kept going and going and going until --

Now look where it had gotten you: Sat in the office of the most intimidating Emeritus brother, a packet of documents lying on the desk before you, along with an elaborate green and silver fountain pen.

Secondo preferred to use contracts when it came to his potential bedmates he had a particular eye for. Ones he had an especial intention of keeping closer. Longer.

To many, this was an absolute honor. You knew plenty of siblings that would probably kill to be in your place. And as you sat wordlessly before both Papa and his documents, you contemplated throwing yourself onto those swords.

It would certainly be quicker and less painful than ducking out after coming this far.

You could picture it: St. Andrew's crosses, leather, hot wax searing deliciously into your skin, his sharp voice directing wicked degradation before salving you with praises. All the scrumptious things Papa II had gained a notoriety for indulging. You would gladly eat it all up and beg for seconds and thirds.

But you couldn't stop it there; it had to go further. Nobody just. Stops there. Nobody normal, anyway.

The problem was that you didn't consider yourself normal. Which was what made imagining him getting into position all the more mortifying even if in concept. You could picture yourself trying to convert the anticipation you were meant to feel from one of nerves into one of bliss but it doesn't matter. You try so hard to relax and be in the moment but it's a terrible moment!

You'd heard Secondo was blessed. The idea sat in your stomach while its surroundings shriveled in fear and constricted to an uncomfortable degree. Hell, it wouldn't even matter if he were the opposite of blessed: It would all hurt the same. It would still feel as though a needle were shanking its way into your most intimate parts, piercing onward until it struck your lungs and took the oxygen right out of you. And that would only be the beginning of it.

And just thinking that was enough to make the mask slip.

You prayed to Lucifer that the sound of you wordlessly nudging the papers and pen closer to Secondo would somehow be enough to disguise the whimper paining your throat. Unfortunately, it was not.

Your already throbbing stomach somehow made enough room to swallow your heart when you saw the older man's brow quirk.

"Something the matter, Sorella?" His voice, the one you'd grown to swoon into after all these passing weeks, made you want to flinch now. Fuck. You could feel your resolve slipping through your fingers like sand and creating further mess. You just needed to keep it together --

"N-no," you forced out. You tried not to dwell on how tight your voice sounded or how it even hurt just to utter that. A complete opposite to how smooth and natural it had been when you answered his invitation to his office earlier. You weren't even sure why you hadn't expected this to be the reason for such a request. You were so naive then . . .

You tried to push through the pain, tried add on, "I'm just --" but stopped almost immediately. You had no idea what to continue with. Fuck, you were fucking this up so badly! You seriously began to contemplate just standing up and leaving, but then where would that get you?

You still lived here, in the Abbey. Avoiding a Papa was virtually impossible at the end of the day. There was no way you two could carry on as though nothing had ever happened -- the flirting, the gazes, all that junk . . . Oh, Satanas, would you need to relocate? Uproot the life you'd finally managed to create for yourself here, sent off somewhere else just to hide the humiliation of what you were and what you had or hadn't done?

Satan, why did it feel so hot in here? Was that why the air suddenly feel like it was only oozing into your lungs with difficulty?

Clearly, Secondo did not take the silence well. His lips pressed into a thin line. "If I have insulted you, Sorella, I deeply apologize." No . . . "I thought you were aware of my practices." No!! He reached a large, ringed hand out to pull the items back towards him. And somehow, that was the final straw, the final snap before the dam collapsed.

It was like watching your last chance for something being taken away from you, even of your own accord! In fact, it was exactly that: Something you knew was necessary but it didn't have to be that way but fuck, your body and mind were at odds with each other and making it your problem and --

You hadn't even noticed that you'd turned into a crying, hiccuping mess, much less one that talked. It was only when you could see through your tears an actually surprised-looking Secondo (he was capable of shock?!) that you comprehended just what sort of state you were in.

And if it was enough to make the most emotionally constipated man in the Church look disquieted, then you must've been in a sorry state. The room only felt more hot as the burn of embarrassment enveloped you. You hoped it might even consume you in a full-throttle case of spontaneous human combustion as you struggled to swallow back up everything you'd just done.

"I-I-" you hiccuped wetly. It was so hard to formulate words underneath his gaze, which he never took off of you even as he reached for a box of tissues to offer you. You knew it was one of concern, searching for traces that maybe you needed help he couldn't offer you. But for the state your mind was currently in, it twisted it into one of disgust; like maybe all those affections he might've held for you an hour ago were being replaced with ones where all he saw was a madwoman.

It was almost too much. But it was also too late to go back now, wasn't it?

"I . . . My body doesn't work right," you finally admitted in a croaked murmur. Your eyes flew down to your lap in shame, watching your hands twist and tear at the wet tissues you'd just used. "It's a condition. Like my body clenches up down there at the mere thought of penetration. So . . . So sex is off the table, basically. I'm s-sorry . . ."

God, it sounded all so lame when you said it like that. But what else could you really do? How could you communicate to him the physical and mental pain it all caused you? How could you get across to him the embarrassment that came with pap smears, the shame you felt when recognizing how behind your peers you were? Would he sympathize or pity you if he learned that on a good day, you could get the very tip of a well-lubricated q-tip in and have to consider that a victory?

You weren't able to even formulate such thoughts, let alone predict how he might feel besides, perhaps, disappointment. Maybe even disgust.

Secondo liked the finer things in life, after all: How must he feel, knowing he'd wasted so much time and energy on something that was actually broken the whole time?

"I . . . I'm so sorry." At this, your fidgeting froze, your mind beckoning for you to glance up even the slightest. In doing so, even from such an awkward angle, you could see your Papa's expression remain nearly unchanged from before. It was still worried for you, though now with a touch of something more. "I can't imagine how difficult a spot you must've felt you were in . . . And for that, I apologize."

You gave a wobbly expression born of appreciation but also acknowledging the silliness of the sentiment. You gently huffed at the absurdity, "Don't apologize, you couldn't have known." A soft shrug allowed you to upright your position better. "If anything, I'm the one that should apologize. I should've said something in the beginning . . ."

At this, the older man shrugged back. "Perhaps, but I also can understand how uncomfortable that might've made you feel. Telling someone something so intimate can be difficult. Especially if it is like . . . Well." He gestured between the both of you.

You gave the smallest of chuckles (albeit, out of a desperate need to tenderize the mood) as you twisted the shredded pieces of napkin in your lap once more. Yet again, your eyes diverted from their connection with his. "Yeah, well, at least you would've known whether or not to waste time on me."

At that, the mood seemed to slightly change. You didn't feel threatened, but you knew that the breed of seriousness had shifted somewhat. Almost reprimanding. The eyes of Papa Emeritus II were just as intimidating out of the papal paints as they were in them, it seemed.

"I can assure you, Sorella," his normal nature of calmness returned, all traces of hesitancy from moments ago completely evaporated. "I don't see any of the time or what we've done together as a waste. If you have had any partners in the past that might've felt the opposite, then I sympathize greatly with you. But I also know that means you have no experience with anyone worth your time. That is, perhaps, the most disappointing thing of all here."

Damn. What do you even say to something like that? What could you say to something like that? Under normal circumstances, you might've argued in unfortunate defense of past failed connections, pinning the blame on you. After all, that's what made the most sense. or at least, it had. Until now, with the metaphorical mirror being propped up before you by one insistent Papa.

The room fell into silence as you searched for a response -- if you even needed to make one.

"Do you still want me?"

You almost jolted. You hadn't been expecting that to be what broke the silence.

"I . . . Well, yes. Of course I do, Papa." And you did. But . . . "But I don't know if --"

"I didn't ask for specifics, piccolina. I asked you: Do you still want to be with me?"

You struggled with a punctuated inhale. "Yes."

He hummed single low note before taking back the documents and pen. You watched curiously (and perplexedly) as he began to scribble and draw lines at seemingly random places. After what had felt like an eternity, he finally slid the packet back to you.

"Take a look. It's the roughest of drafts, of course, but we can properly revitalize it as needed. If you wish to make further retractions or additions, I give you the freedom to apply them."

Your brow furrowed as you picked up the papers for inspection. Of course, your eyes were immediately drawn to the instances of green ink that now freckled the paragraphs but you took especial time dialing it back and reading in full what these adjustments were meant to even mean.

Acts concerning penetration had been removed or adjusted as necessary, acts concerning outercourse or fondling had been either emphasized or added and asterisked.

"But . . . But Papa, I can't ask you to take away from your own pleasure," you objected. It was bad enough you'd strung him along, even if he argued that you hadn't. This was still quite a lot to grapple with in under ten minutes.

At this, Secondo cracked the first hint of amusement he'd had this entire session. He smirked as he reclined back in his hair. "And what, pray tell, makes you think I wouldn't derive pleasure from doing any of these things, piccolina?"

Porn, smut, the stories kiss-and-tell Siblings would often share in the cafeteria or in the hallways or the quad. Reddit posts.

"Well, I mean," you tried to argue. "They were there for a reason, weren't they? You enjoy those things." You ignored how the smirk on his face only seemed to grow. Hm. Maybe your words didn't have as much umph to them as you'd thought? Still, you continued. "A-and besides: I can't imagine you'd get off as easily from --" You glanced down at a word he'd scribbled in. " -- thigh jobs."

The low chuckle that rumbled from his chest settled your failure of a one-sided debated.

"Oh, Sorellina: You have much to learn about my proclivities," he sighed. "I understand that what the others might talk about may paint a certain picture of me. But I can assure you, any lover worth his salt should know that just shoving their dick into something is far from the end all, be all."

"And besides." The chair squeaked as he leaned in, hands folded on the dark wood of the desk. "It takes a true lover to relish in pleasure's many forms. I am more than happy to show you this, if you will let me."

It didn't matter that you had heard him say and gesture far cruder things: Just the words coming from his lips -- lips you had craved the taste of ever since your first sampling mere days ago -- coupled with the sincerity of his unbreaking eye contact. Your face was once again awash with a heat, a pleasant one born from blush.

You wanted to let him. You'd let him do whatever he could with you. You just needed to . . . let him.

Your body made picking up the pen feel weightier than it could've possibly been. But in a way, you were used to it: You were used to fighting your body and mind, always losing the battle so that they and their anxieties could be pacified while the other parts of you remained barren. Unsatisfied, with the conviction that it was only your burden to bear.

You didn't want a story to tell or even a milestone to complete so that you could better fit in with your peers: You just wanted to be understood. Or at least, like you wouldn't get left behind, chained by your own body and mind's complications.

As you stared at the green ink that formed your name on the pristine white paper, you felt a tightness in your throat. Never before had you felt so liberated . . .

[moongothic]

So a few weeks ago I ran into this, old, old Crocodile meta post from 2015, the OP of which hasn't been active on Tumbr (at least on that account) since 2018. And this post (along with some of the OP's other posts) has been living in my head rent free since then.

There was just something there about seeing these old meta posts, completely detached from the current state of the story, the fandom and the Crocodad Propaganda... It just made for a truly refreshing read, but they also had such great observations about Crocodile I hadn't even thought about or noticed*, and somewhat most importantly... validating my own feelings/observations about things I've been kind of afraid to vocalize myself lest I apper completely delulu. Like I dunno I do worry sometimes if I'm just reading into things too much just to make massive reaches to get The Reading of the character that happens to support the Crocodad theory specifically, instead of trying to get a more objective reading instead. So seeing someone else make either those exact same or similar observations nearly 10 years before I did is so validating, and really just made me want to discuss some of those things.

*(Like this whole post about how "DON!" is often used to add emphasis and show the true beliefs of characters, and how Crocodile doesn't really say things with a DON!, almost like his heart isn't in most of the things he does or says. I dunno it was such a good read)

Sidenote: I do want to quickly comment that I don't agree with the OP on some of their readings about stuff, and more importantly, due to the age of the both the original posts and the OP not being active anymore, I didn't want to, like... Treat them as if they just posted it recently and interact with the posts as such. (I dunno, when people go digging through my decade old main blog and start reblogging shit I posted in like 2014 it just. I dunno, it's just kind of uncomfortable. Like you're allowed to browse my past but I wished people let my ancient cringe stay in the past. But that's just me) Like for example I feel like OP has a fundamental misunderstanding what being "trans" really even means (thus I don't agree with their take on trans Croc), but again, OP's take is old and so I don't want to hold it against them. They could have grown since then and come to better understand what being trans means, and regardless of that they don't have to buy into the theory either. And I absolutely do not want anyone to start trying to pester them about it or anything (again, they posted these things nearly 10 years ago), regardless of if they're still active or not. But yeah, that's why this is a whole separate post rather than a reblog with commentary.

So OP in their post speculated how in this moment (chap 206), based on the face he makes and the serious look he gives to Luffy, Crocodile seems to find the idea of someone being willing to die for someone else's sake absolutely incomprehensible, as if he's trying to wrap his head around the mere concept. That, or he used to know what it was like to hold someone/something that dear to you, but has long forgotten what it was like

Rereading this arc a while back I couldn't help but to take notice of this panel too and that unusual, somber(?) look on Crocodile's face. But because I'm a Crocodad Truther, of course I couldn't help but to feel that this was a face of recognition, of Crocodile understanding Luffy exactly in this moment, that willingness to do anything for a loved one. Especially because I have been speculating Crocodile might've been doing all of this with the goal of nuking the World Government out of orbit to protect his long lost baby boy (it's just that he simply finds Luffy's insistence on protecting this random ass princess from a random ass country he has zero ties to ridiculous, as opposed to like, doing all of this to protect immidiate, close family)

So again, despite the different reading it is validating as hell to see someone else think this panel in particular was odd. But the more I thought about it, I did kind of start leaning towards OP's reading. Now this one was originally pointed out by opbackgrounds, how in this scene (chapter 196) while Crocodile is meant to be laughing and mocking the royal guard for "throwing their lives away" to protect Cobra, he isn't actually smiling. We don't even get to see his full face with his eyes blacked out, so we don't get to see Crocodile's true feelings in this scene

And that does kind of reframe what he says in the second panel. For a long time I wondered if the implication was that Crocodile does actually value people's lives more than he lets on (especially with his seeming willingness to blow up a million people in a violent, orchestraded coup), just having a "small sacrifice for the greater good" kinda outlook (as we know, casualties can't be avoided in war, Croco and Luffy both agree on that) (where as I would IMAGINE Dragon having a more "no sacrifices, we have to save as many people as possible" kinda principle)

But now, looking at these two moments together, and knowing Crocodile has trust issues for unknown reasons, there is also that option that, perhaps... No one has ever shown that kind of loyalty towards him, a willingness to follow him to the grave or support him, to stay by his side? And if so, maybe, in these two scenes, Crocodile does recognize that kind of deep loyalty and trust and love, and has to cope with the fact that he has and may never experience it himself, that he's doomed to be alone, surrounded only by people who "respect him" out of fear (something that could be extra painful while knowing someone had just recently betrayed him by leaking his info to ruin his plans/after figuring out it was Robin, his very literal partner in crime. Like talk about rubbing salt into a wound).

And y'know, that is an extremely sad reading and I feel so bad for my poor little meow meow (that man needs a hug so bad), but also that doesn't really add to pushing The Crocodad Agenda, which is very unfortunate. Especially because I feel like between the two readings, Crocodile recognizing loyalty no one will ever show him (and being hurt by the fact) feels like a more comprehensive and simple reading, than if one is about him showing he doesn't fully believe in what he's doing is right and the other about him relating to Luffy on a deeper level.

But then, as OP pointed out in their post, for the entirety of page 2 of Chapter 207 while Luffy is keeling over from the poison finally kicking in, Crocodile looks like he's fully letting down his walls to express genuine relief, as if the those beliefs Croc had carried and convinced himself were true were just confirmed

What're his beliefs again? That trust in others is worthless, and you can not afford to have ideals if you're weak, great strenght being the only thing that allows you, if not straight up justifies you, in doing whatever you please? Now, maybe it's just me, but if Crocodile was showing relief here over his belief that trusting others is worthless after being reminded time and time again of the love and loyalty the Strawhats have for each other and the Alabastan kingdom has for everyone in it (etc)... I dunno, I feel like that would be kind of weak, if that's where Crocodile's internalized beliefs were wavering. But if Crocodile's whole Utopia-plan had been about destroying the WG to protect his baby boy (and release the whole world from the WG's oppressive rule while he's at it) at whatever cost, while he deep inside knew what he was doing was fucked up beyond belief... Yeah, Crocodile trying to convince himself what he was doing was "justified" would make sense. Him having his beliefs potentially even waver a little bit through out this whole ordeal would make sense. Crocodile in this moment experiencing relief that what he had told himself was the righteous would make sense.

Everybody remember's Doflamingo's speech from Marineford, about how history is written by the victors and its them who decide what is right and what is wrong- the winner becomes "justice" itself. Vegapunk kind of called back to this concept during his broadcast too, and yeah, Crocodile did kind of introduce us to it back in Alabasta. If he had won, he would have been "justified" in what he had done, because it'd be him who'd be deciding what's right and what's wrong.

Now I don't really have anything else to add to that post in particular (though I absolutely love the reading on the Crocodile vs Robin part and now that I've read it I can't unsee nor disagree with it), but OP did make a separate post speculating about some of design decisions Oda made regarding Crocodile, starting with discussing the logo for Baroque Works. And they pointed this out

Bro wrote this in 2015, they have no idea, oh my god, dude had no clue whatsoever

So quickly looking that one up and yeah, wings have sometimes been used to represent the sun (most commonly with the sun, as a winged sun?) and yeah, that actually has a lot of meaning in the current state of the series re: God of Liberation the Sun God Nika. But what's more is that this is actually the SECOND time we're actually finding a way to link Crocodile to sun-symbolism, the other being Crocodile being a reference to the Egyptian god Sobek (protector god, god of military, go to Wikipedia), who has an alternative form (/fusion with Ra) called Sobek-Ra, where he is a sun god. And what was Crocodile trying to do in Alabasta if not falsely "liberate" the country from its original rule. Also worth noting is that seemingly the winged sun was most commonly used in Egyptian iconography, so if Oda ever did research Egyptian mythology for inspiration in Alabasta (which, considdering the sheer amount of Stuff in the story as a whole is more than likely), then it is very possible he could have read about the winged sun and used it intentionally.

But what I do find interesting is that, yeah, wings kinda are a symbol one would considder "heroic" or related to "freedom". And, as I have been going on and on about, if Crocodile's ultimate goal in creating his funny little "utopia" was to overthrow the World Government and "free" the whole world of their rule. Like. That really lines up with the whole symbolism with the sun and the liberation and the freedom and shit, like. Why does it line up so neatly good dear god

I dunno how to end this post, these were just a few little things that I had been thinking about after coming across OP's blog and, yeah, just wanted to discuss them.

Again, OP hasn't been active for years, but if they did suddenly come back please don't bother them or god forbid harrass them/try to get them to change their mind about trans Croco. Just don't start shit, please.

End of post byeeeeeeee

[weebsinstash]

hmmmmmmmmmmmmm I'm just sitting here being degenerate thinking of the concept of "Choso and/or Yuuji who gets our favorite Yan Fever for the Reader and they get those false memory things that like really mentally fuck them up and make them think you're their sister"

Like whether you are an actual cursed painting is irrelevant and I think it's funny to have some concepts where you're literally just a normal person but either way

Some Alternative Universe shit where Yuuji and Choso are chilling as brothers being sorcerors and whatnot and eventually you come along and oh shit, here come the fake VHS tape memories. Suddenly here's both of them, "remembering" you sitting at the family dinner table in your little school seifuku and calling them both Onii-chan with stars in your cute little doe eyes and it All. Feels. Too. Real.

You're just over here "what the actual FUCK are you two talking about" and meanwhile they're over here, turning to each other, "hey remember that time we went to the amusement park with Lil Sis--" and both of them are remembering the same 'events'. They see you with an adult man and suddenly they're flooded with thoughts of 'that time' sweet little unassuming you got embarrassed and ran off into the woods and they found you right before nightfall covered in dirt with scraped knees and puffy eyes as you said a boy at school had rejected you and just cried and cried and cried while your big brothers promised to kill the guy and that they're the only men you need and God Forbid They ""Remember"" Some Fucked Up Shit like they have vivid memories of your teary snot covered face holding their hand and trembling, "if you're the only man I need who will want me, will you marry me when I grow up"

forget the actual spirits the real shit that's CURSED is what comes out of these two when their false memories have them convinced you're this sweet helpless little crybaby that -- wait is that man trying to talk to you? You're too young to date! No shut up, you're not a grown woman. What are you talking about? You're too young. Men are creepy, stay away from him and hang with your big brothers! Do you wanna like.... go see a movie? Go to the arcade? You don't need a boyfriend to pass the time, don't be silly.

and you're sitting here thinking, "Weeb you mean they get these false memories for you as their PLATONIC little sister, right?" and, I dunno, wouldn't it be all the more fucked up if they're getting those Step Brother Level Memories. In some fucked up VHS tape in the back of their minds, they found little kid you starving in the woods or some shit like Batman scooping up Jason Todd like theyre remembering finding you bundled up and abandoned as a baby or something and. They remember you and feel for you as a sister but Don't Worry We Aren't Actually Related--

You go missing and your "big brothers" are absolutely freaking out and they catch you at like THE CLUB droppin that ass and being, well, dressing and acting really adult while they're all but throwing a sheet over you to "protect your honor" and. Clearly this isn't YOUR behavior, CLEARLY you've been BRAINWASHED by all these GROSS PERVERTS who are trying to CORRUPT YOU but don't worry the pseudo incestuous stuff is totally fine in their heads tho---

You sneak off for a prolonged period of time and it turns out you were with a dude and they're ligerally stripping your clothes off and inspecting you because, well, you're just so kind and helpless and sweet that if that man hurt you, your big brothers know you would defend that person, so, OBVIOUSLY both of them have to strip you down and ask about every single scratch, bump, and scar that wasn't there a few days ago

They're on that Japanese shared bathing mixed genders in the hot spring shit and, family bathing can be a thing in Japan and stuff like that so, catch them having ZERO problems making you share hot springs or baths and being completely full ass naked in front of them and they think YOU'RE WEIRD if you're grossed out by it. What do you mean you're not comfortable being completely totally naked in front of two equally naked adult men who keep touching your body, that's just what family does, gee lil sis you're SO weird 🙄

I also think it'd be like absolutely fucked if you were friends with Yuuji before he switches over or whatever so now he's got these very actually real memories of spending time with you and whatever feelings came from that now super imposed and layered over all this Weird Ass Family Funtime shit in his head. You go from thinking he's like your best friend to, slowly over time realizing his feelings for you are... questionable at best. That, before, where you were actually really sort of already a close platonic figure to him, NOW you're just infantilized and treated like helpless vulnerable little glass

All I'm saying is that Megumi amd Nobara have to put up with constantly hearing about Yuuji's precious lil sis and his awesome big bro and all the extra special family plans you guys have, meanwhile you're like, off in some office somewhere, "Gojo on god bruh i will suck you something so fucking sloppy if you get me away from these two"

[bogleech]

I completely missed that a Mortasheen book was getting kickstarted! What's the best way to get updates on that? Is there some way to sign up for a bogleech.com news letter? I don't want to miss when it comes out

Oh it was kickstarted three years ago, but with the intention of coming out in only one year. A lot of stuff happened :( It's a tabletop RPG that's actually been in development by other folks for now a grand total of I think 15 years, with me just being the art and concept side. I was never really let in on 90% of that development or what caused it to go on that long but now I have enough stuff together that I should be able to get the book out for real in 2024, with the help of the remaining gameplay dev Morgan Mullins, a huge boost of additional development help from @gutsygills, and a dozen different artists I've paid to contribute.

Having sunk so much of my life into it, I won't make it at all possible for people to miss when it comes out. It's basically the thing I have to bank on as my main career for the foreseeable future, the first book is only intended as the start of a series of expansions, it'll have its own official website and get pitched to actual gaming stores. I've been really sweating to make it look as professional-ish as possible.

Like the core D&D books it will have to be fairly pricey, we're looking at 200-300 pages, but I'd also put out much cheaper digital versions, and maybe little skinny "monsters only" books for people who just want to look at those :)

The stats/abilities on these pages are already a little out of date, the gameplay system had some last minute updates following a lot of backer playtesting!

I dunno how many people reading this have maybe never heard of Mortasheen yet but it's a horror-comedy flavored homage to Pokemon and Digimon set in a world sort of like ours, thousands of years from now where there's goofy monsters and mutants and biotech while humans are very rare and endangered. Actually the setting most similar to it now is Adventure Time of all things, if it had a whole lot more body horror and no magic (but lots of biotechnology indistinguishable from it). But when development of this game began, Adventure Time was just that weird short pilot Nickelodeon passed up on. Now it will be coming out after Adventure Time had a finale, sequel movies and the first season of a followup series. It has literally taken more than an entire Adventure Time to get this done :( I did not mean for an answer to an ask to go on this long but it occurs to me as important information for my followers in general!!!

[trickstarbrave]

Things I’m learning from the hygiene UESP page:

>Dunmer prefer no body hair. Did not know that. I suppose that implies it’s done for a practical matter (they do seem to have unique forms of flees and lice based on lore. They could wax to get to prevent the spread to other places in the body)

>Dunmer have nail polish made of shalk resin

>werewolves are very clean and enjoy grooming each other or having special tools for it

>sewer systems are extremely common it seems, and old. The Dwemer likely had indoor plumbing all the time across also castes, but for commoners of other races outhouses and needing to carry water in for washing seem to be the standard. The second era empire built large and complex sewer systems in several major cities tho so I think all races understand and accept them

Questions I still have:

Do you think the Dunmer and Nords like. Bathe privately? For IRL Norse ppl bathing was mostly done in streams, rivers, hot springs, and only large settlements MIGHT have had bath houses. Dunmer I genuinely dunno. I feel like they could have public bath houses easily but then I also remember they are a rude and paranoid ppl. I kinda wanna go with “yes” on the public bath houses.

As for the Nords I think bc they are a colony of the empire and I feel the empire def has public bath houses they slowly introduced those concepts to Skyrim. Only like, major holds really have them though and otherwise if u wanna bathe at a inn or smth u request a tub, take it to ur room, and gotta boil water, fill it, and bathe. And this is only for nice inns too. If ur a place like riverwood they will maybe give u a bucket of u wanna just clean ur face and wipe down but otherwise they expect u to just bathe in the river like everyone else.

[asexualandalwaysshipping]

Given how much of a sucker I am for old man yaoi, it really came as a surprise to me that I wasn’t as taken with Zaundads as I expected. It’s not even as though I don’t understand or dislike the dynamic, I completely see the ship as a solid interpretation of their relationship but after watching arcane for the first time I wasn’t completely sold. And I think part of it goes in line with what I disliked about s2 and how they handled Silco’s character.

Starting with the obvious where Vander and Silco are clearly meant to parallel Vi and Jinx in terms of how ideology drives them apart, s2 completely abandons that concept by trying to showcase how the two men could’ve reconciled over a letter. I just hate that implication so much especially when the letter essentially says “sorry I lost my head, the blame is on both of us.” No accountability at all. We’re just supposed to accept that Silco, being as deep-seated in his morals as he is, would take that as an apology? It’s the same issue with AU Silco where it makes no sense that he and Vander would just be able to talk things through and forgive when in no scenario was that ever an option for Silco after being betrayed like that by someone he thought of as family. The sisters only reconcile when Vi manages to accept Jinx for who she is rather than Powder, but the writers pretty much settle the Vander/Silco dispute by saying it would all be solved if Silco completely reverted back to someone he no longer is so now the parallel is completely meaningless and I hate that. It’s also why I disliked the addition that Silco presumably knew Felicia because not only does it make the timeline of events confusing, but suggesting that Silco only takes in Powder because he recognizes her as the child of his old friend takes away from the fact that she’s supposed to be a reflection of him. He sees himself in Powder despite knowing nothing about her and takes her under his wing because he recognizes her pain. Again, parallels.

What’s more frustrating is that the writers seemed to have completely left behind Silco’s character after his death. The only ones who seem to remotely mourn his absence is Jinx and to an extent, Sevika, but then the story completely loses track of the amount of influence he’s supposed to have on Zaun. Just one montage and it’s concluded. Even his role as a father is diminished for the sake of the Warwick subplot where Vander’s influence as a father is what supposedly brings the sisters back together. But one could argue that Silco was more of a father to Jinx than Vander ever was and the writers seem to just… forget that. Because Vander can be the only father figure of significance at the moment.

So why do these fumbles turn me off from Zaundads? Because instead of taking the time to delve into their dynamic and explore just what makes their characters work together, the writers settle on a quick fix-it solution focused on hypotheticals that only work if you drastically change Silco’s character and motivations. So it doesn’t feel like you get an actually good grasp of the “what could’ve been”s or their relationship as a whole. S1 does such a better job of building up that tension and making you observe just why these two men regard each other with so much importance.

I dunno, maybe I would’ve been more on board with the ship if I had been there when s1 first released and didn’t immediately have s2 to tarnish my impression but those are just my thoughts. Obviously you don’t have to agree and if you have any counterpoints to what I just said I’d love to hear them. Again, it’s not as though I’m against the ship, it just didn’t click with me as much as I hoped and it’s just disappointing when a ship doesn’t reach your expectations.

[lowkeyrobin]

Could you do a Morgie Le Fay x heartsreader imagine where Red and Chloe saw her GN relative with one of her mother’s bullies ??

ooo okay I can try! this is actually a really cool concept lmaoo ; but ty for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; I struggled w this bc writers block so I had to put in bullet points cause I couldn't write it all out in connecting sentences I'm sorry :(( I couldn't tie this to morgie much idk man

MORGIE LE FAY ; royalty doesn't mean purity

summary ; after red travels back in time to stop her mom from becoming a tyrant, she spots you with the vks...

warnings ; language

word count ; 466

masterlist

Red absolutely adores her aunt/uncle Y/n

they're the only person who understands her

but when time traveling on accident with chloe, they obviously found their parents attending Merlins Academy

and you were there too, sibling of Bridget, before she became the Queen of Hearts, before the tyranny

one thing seemed wrong though

you were hanging out with the villain kids

"red, who are you staring at?"

"my mom's sibling. my aunt/uncle"

"who?"

"that one" red points forward, showing chloe

"theyre with the vks?"

red nods, confused "did they switch entire personalities after high school or something?"

Chloe loosely follows

you seemed to be hanging onto Morgie a lot

maybe you were just together? but why be with someone who tormented your sister?

red had so many questions

like, that was 100% you

wtf

why was an actual piece of royalty hanging out with villains? you'd probably be leading a nation within the next few years, like???

once you were caught away from morgie and your friends, red, in 'new kid' disguise, approaches

"hi! you're y/n, right?"

"yeah, why?"

"aren't you an heir to the Hearts throne? why are you hanging out with villain kids?"

you shrug. "theyre my friends"

"but they bully your sister"

"uliana bullies my sister. she has a complex. the others don't as much"

"as much? you tolerate bullying?" Chloe quickly interjects, Red giving her a glare in reward

"who are you, again?"

for the rest of the day you're left confused

I mean why did it even matter?

meanwhile red is trying to balance like 5838385 things on her shoulders

she's trying to figure out how her mom became evil and how to stop her

and on top of that she's trying to get home

and making plans

and trying to figure out what the fuck was with you and how you and her mom practically switched sides

at least you had a bit of motivation she knew of, a boyfriend

morgie seemed like comic relief, not like a serious threat toward you or even bridget

maybe you were just tagging along because you liked him???

red already knew that having a crown doesn't make you a good person, so she wasn't all that taken aback

but you, in her time, were completely against her mom, against bullying, which was clearly backwards here

maybe she entered a new timeline

"are you alright?" morgie asks, seeing you zoned out

you quickly nod, trying to piece together who those girls were and why they were asking you weird questions

she was acting like she knew you in a way

"yeah, I'm good. sorry. you know those new girls? they were asking why I was hanging out with you because I'm Bridget's sibling"

morgie tilts his head, just as confused as you

"why does it matter?"

"I dunno"

[ambiguous-avery]

Chasing Shadows, Part 2

Dean Winchester x OC fem!Touched!Reader/You | WC: 6224

Summary: She’s never been afraid of the dark, not really. She’s more concerned about getting lost in it. He’s haunted by every dark deed he’s ever done. It’s constantly nipping at his heels like a hell hound. He’s her light in the dark, and she’s the one bit of darkness he’s willing to embrace.

A series of murders has drawn the Winchesters to your small town, and for some reason, you’re at the center of it all. What are you hiding? And why does it seem to be painting a target on those around you?

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, canon-typical violence, eventual romance,  eventual smut,  fluff and angst, POV alternating (sometimes a little all over the place), no beta we die like men

Disclaimer: The base concept of Touched comes from @aylacavebear and is used with permission. I’ve taken creative liberties with it. Chasing Shadows Series Masterlist

“How do you lose a dead body, Sam?” Dean asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of the Impala. They had spent the better part of twenty minutes searching the alleyway and another thirty driving up and down the roads of the town. They had even gone back to your place and snooped around. There hadn’t been any sign of you. Calling your cell phone had turned out to be a dead end too. Every attempt Dean made just went straight to voicemail. The police scanners had been silent all night and into the morning, no reports of another attack or victim. The only evidence left that anything had happened the night prior were the three spent bullet casings and a small puddle of blood that had likely dripped from the fatal neck wound you had sustained. 

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam snapped. Dean had only asked him that question half a dozen times, and he was tired of it.

“You’re sure she was dead?”

“For the millionth time, yes. There was no way she was coming back from that. And even if she did, she wasn’t going far.”

“We were gone for, what, five minutes? Maybe ten?” The two had gone in circles with the conversation, and Sam was getting sick of Dean’s implications that Sam had somehow missed something very obvious.

“I dunno. How fast did you lose sight of the thing?” Sam spat back. He wasn’t salty. Not at all. Not the least bit. Dean didn’t have a quick comeback for that one and instead opted to give Sam the silent, brooding treatment. 

“So what’s our next move? Our only lead is gone in the wind, and we still don’t have any idea how this guy is targeting people,” Dean finally said after a bit. Sam shook his head. He was over Dean asking him questions that he didn’t have an answer for. He was part way through formulating a new plan of attack when,

“Dean, that’s her!” Sam practically shouted, leaning forward and pointing across the road. Dean slammed on the brakes, causing the car behind them to do the same and blast his horn before cutting around the Impala, flipping the brothers off as he did so. Neither of them noticed. Dean’s gaze followed in the direction that Sam was pointing. The two of them watched as you strolled down the sidewalk across the way, gaze lowered as you maneuvered around the others on the sidewalk.

“You sure it’s her?” Dean’s voice was almost a whisper, though Sam wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like you were going to hear them. 

“I guarantee it’s her.” The image of you from the night prior was burned into his mind’s eye, and Sam wasn’t likely to forget it anytime soon. Innocent and blameless in this mess, yet here you were, out and about as if nothing had happened. Dean pulled the Impala off to the opposite side of the street that you were walking on, and both boys ducked down as you strode past where they had parked. You dipped into a coffee shop before they sat back up and looked at each other.

“None of the others have popped back up like that, have they?” Dean’s tone was conspiratorial. Finally, he was asking something Sam had an answer for.

“No, none of them.”

“So... new working theory?”

“Well... we know for sure that the creature from last night is definitely a vamp. And they don’t bite their own–”

“Unless she’s the leader.”

“Agents?” The word had barely passed over your tongue before the two of them pushed their way into your place and closed the door behind them. Gone were the professional suits. Now, both of them were all denim and flannel. You had been milliseconds away from asking them what in the hell they were doing here when Dean drew a gun and aimed it at you. Your hands flew to either side of your head, eyes widening with fear. 

“You’ve got thirty seconds to tell us exactly what’s going on around here.” He cocked the gun. “Less if you lie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you began, the words stumbling over themselves to get past your lips. “I’m not– I didn’t–”

“You said you knew all the victims. You were with them shortly before each of them were attacked. Is that how you mark your targets? So the rest of the nest knows who to go after?”

“What? What are you on about?” You looked between the two of them, hoping that one of them would give you the slightest bit of lenience. Even though he wasn’t pointing a gun at you, the one with longer hair was staring you down with hardened eyes. You swallowed hard, taking a slow step back. Both men matched your step back with a step forward of their own, keeping the distance between you and them at a minimum. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re getting at.”

“You’re a vampire,” Dean said simply. You let out a single humorless laugh.

“Vampire,” you repeated incredulously. “Is that the thing that attacked me last night?” There was a beat of silence between the three of you. “I can assure you that I’m not that. And correct me if I’m wrong, but considering that you haven’t put a bullet through me yet, you’re willing to hear me out?” There was a tense moment where no one moved, but as it passed, the gun was lowered.

You moved slowly, still keeping your hands where the two could see them as you motioned for them to take a seat on the couch in the living room again. When the three of you were finally seated, you dared to take a long, deep breath.

“Do I get to know who you guys really are at least? I think it’s safe to say that you’re not FBI,” you said, keeping your breaths as even as possible despite the fact that your pulse was racing beneath your skin.

“I’m Sam. This is my brother, Dean. We’re hunters,” Sam introduced. His expression seemed to have softened slightly, but you weren’t ready to fully believe he wouldn’t pull a weapon on you if the situation called for it.

“Hunters,” you breathed, “Okay... we’re just gonna pretend I know exactly what you mean by that.” You let your arms drop and began wringing your fingers together in your lap. “Why do you suddenly think I’m involved in all of this? Besides the obvious ‘knowing the victims’ thing.”

“You called last night and told us that you were being followed. When we showed up, we saw that vamp attack you. Sam said you were dead.” Dean motioned to your neck with his free hand. “And even if you weren’t, you don’t have a mark on you.” Your own hand pressed to the spot where you had been bitten the night prior.

“There’s not really a good way to explain it... Then again... I guess we are talking about a vampire. Like real life, in the flesh vampire. Maybe it’s easier if I just show you. Do either of you have a knife?” 

The boys looked at each other for a moment before Sam pulled one from his pocket. There was another beat before he slowly offered it to you. Moving equally as slow so as not to spook either of them, you took it from Sam and brandished the blade. You ran the sharpened edge against the palm of your hand, wincing as you sliced a line from thumb to pinky. Blood welled up, and you set the blade down, keeping your hand out, palm up. You waited a few seconds before grabbing a kleenex from the box sitting on the table and wiping away the blood, offering your hand to them again. Your skin had stitched back together, leaving no trace of a cut. “I don’t know what it is, but I can heal from just about anything. Small things are gone within moments. But bigger things take more time.”

“Gotta be honest with you, sweetheart. Vamps can do the same thing. Your case isn’t really as strong as you think it is,” Dean said simply, his voice tight. You sighed.

“Okay well before you get too trigger happy, let’s try something else.” You pulled your keys from your pocket. They jingled as you set them on the table, pressing a button on them as you did so. There was an LED light attached to them, the same kind that people could attach to a pet’s collar, that began flashing, cycling through four colors. The boys looked at it in confusion as you stood up. “Promise me you won’t shoot me.” You were only half sure that a bullet wound wouldn’t be able to take you out, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it wasn’t a gamble you were willing to take. Your abilities were still wholly untested, and the limits of them weren’t something you weren’t keen on finding at the moment. You took a few steps to the side, maintaining eye contact with Dean because it seemed like he was going to need a lot more convincing than Sam that you weren’t dangerous. You took a steadying breath. “Don’t touch those,” you said, the tone in your voice serious. “I mean it.” And when you were confident that neither of them would mess with your keys, you Stepped into the shadow of the table.

The first step into the shadows was always like a breath of fresh air. Darkness pressed in on all sides in a familiar sort of way, like a hug from a close friend. It was comforting being here. Looking around, it was just a vast expanse of nothingness, stretching on as far as the eye could see. It was quiet here. It was always quiet here. Even the sound of the blood in your ears was muffled. This was the Void. And it consumed everything. All sound, all pain, all warmth, it was all the Void’s to take. You swallowed nervously, turning around in the darkness, searching. There, several feet in front of you, you could see the flashing light from your keychain. Your beacon home. The void could swallow everything it touched, but it couldn’t take the light, not all of it. You eyed the flashing light before daring to venture away from it, just a bit. Keeping it in your peripheral vision, you moved through the void, taking note of the other light fixtures in the house that you recognized. The lamp above the kitchen table several feet away, the light in the hallway, and most importantly, the flickering light that mimicked a candle flame. The longer you lingered here, the more the solid light fixtures began to fade, their beacons slowly falling prey to the bottomless appetite of the void. But not your flickering sign home. You moved to it, your steps steady so long as you kept your focus on it. You drew closer and closer to it, reaching towards the glimmering light and willing yourself to Step out from the darkness. 

All at once, your senses returned. You could feel your heartbeat racing, hear the blood pounding in your ears, feel the shuddering breaths you took. As you had planned, you had reappeared in your room, the flickering bulb of your nightlight casting faint, dancing shadows. You left your room, heading down the stairs back towards the living room. Dean and Sam had stood up, looking between themselves and where you had disappeared right before their very eyes. You cleared your throat and watched as they both visibly jumped before turning to look at you, Dean raising his gun again.

“How did you do that?” Sam asked, glancing at you then back to where you had initially been.

“I... don’t really know. I just do it.”

“How long have you been able to do this?”

“As long as I can remember,” you replied earnestly. “I don’t really understand it. I got lost in the shadows one too many times, and I don’t do it unless it’s necessary.” You watched as Sam and Dean shared a long glance, seemingly holding an entire conversation with a single look.

“Lost how?” Sam asked, knitting how brows together in confusion.

“When I’m there... in the Void – that’s my name for it – it...” you paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “The Void consumes. That’s the easiest way to put it. It takes everything. Feelings, emotions, sounds, light... When I’m there, I can see light sources that are close. But if it’s steady, like the overhead light,” you pointed up at the bulb in question, “the Void eats it. It vanishes, and I don’t know where to exit. But lights that move or flash or something like that? I don’t know why, but the Void can’t take those. Think of it like a lighthouse. That’s how I get home.”

“So then... What are you? And why is this vamp going after you?” Dean asked. He lowered his weapon again, but his shoulders were still tense. You moved back to your seat in the living room and scooped up your keys, clicking the flashing light off. 

“As far as I know, I’m just human. Then again, I don’t know anyone else who can do what I do. I’ve looked all over online. I’ve dug through forums and all sorts of different mythology websites, but nothing really fits the bill. I feel like a human.” 

“And your parents?” Dean pushed. You offered him a bittersweet half-smile that didn’t quite touch your eyes.

“Very human. They were in a car accident a few years back. Truck driver dozed off at the wheel and drove them off the road. Their car wrapped around a tree. Everyone said that they died on impact.” And before the mood could get too somber, you added, “But I might have an idea for why it’s going for those around me. Real vampires are still drawn to blood, so it would stand to reason that if someone's blood had a special quality to it, then a vampire could smell that, right?” Both boys nodded. 

You picked up the knife with one hand and held your other one out expectantly. When neither of them moved, you rolled your eyes at them. “I’m gonna need a bit of trust from one of you. If I was looking to seriously hurt you guys, don’t you think I would’ve done it when I had the jump on you with shadow walking?” That seemed to be the right thing to say because Dean finally offered his own hand, setting the gun down on the arm of the couch. You took that as a win. 

“What’re you doing?” he asked as you turned his hand so it was palm up.

“Little cut, okay? Nothing serious,” you warned him. Then, giving him enough time to pull his hand back if he changed his mind, you ran the edge of the blade against the pad of his thumb. He made a quiet noise but otherwise kept his hand fairly relaxed in yours. You tugged another tissue from the box and offered it to him before bringing the knife to your own fingertip. “Promise I’m clean,” you said before pressing your wound against his. Your blood smeared along the cut you had given him, and he and Sam watched as it seemed to melt away almost instantly. You all shared a look.

“I think that explains a lot,” Dean finally said.

While the air of suspicion never fully dissipated, the boys seemed to be a little more relaxed in your presence. They explained their ‘hunter’ profession to you in broad strokes and seemed only slightly surprised when you took their explanation of things in stride. In your defense, vampires and werewolves and ghosts actually existing didn’t seem all that far fetched when you were capable of traversing through the shadows. And while they had never encountered someone else with the same set of abilities as you, they did explain that Sam himself once had supernatural abilities on par with demons – those were real too – and maybe you were in a similar sort of situation that he was in.

“So... what do we think is going on here?” you asked slowly, making a vague hand motion to bring the conversation back to the current situation.

“Working theory is that however your blood works to heal other people’s wounds, worked on the vamp too which is why the Dead Man’s Blood didn’t affect it. He probably attacked all the others thinking that they were the ones he was smelling,” Sam mused aloud. 

“He said I ‘smelled like a dream’ to him last night,” you said. “I thought he was just being a creep before... you know.” Dean nodded slowly as you spoke, eyes still watching your every movement.

Now that he wasn’t pointing a gun at you or questioning you like he was expecting you to lie at every opportunity, you could appreciate the fact that he was incredibly attractive. The well-worn military jacket he wore over a simple t-shirt suited him much more than the proper, crisp suit from before. Not that you were complaining about that either. You were a firm believer in finding a guy who could pull off rough and rugged equally as well as tidy and clean. 

“Did he mention any others? A nest or something like that?” Dean inquired, dragging you out of the depths of his gaze and back into the situation at hand.

“No, nothing like that. I didn’t see anyone else either. Do vampires usually travel in packs?”

“Usually, yeah. Occasionally you find one of two who have gone rogue. It’s pretty uncommon but not entirely unheard of.”

“If it’s just one, then that makes this easier, doesn’t it?”

“Mm, much.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What happened after you were attacked? Where did you go?” Sam chimed in. 

“I slipped into the shadows. At least, I think that’s what happened. I wasn’t exactly conscious for it. But like I said, bigger wounds take longer to heal. If I Step into the shadows, it’s much quicker.” Sam shot Dean a pointed look, and Dean suddenly seemed very keen on looking anywhere but at Sam. 

“Okay, so once a vamp has your scent, it’s got it for life. He’s probably drawn to you because of whatever you’ve got in your blood. And as long as you’re alive, he’s gonna keep coming back,” he pressed on. “Most important thing is that he doesn’t bite you again. If that happens, we won’t be able to kill him.”

“So is this the part where you tell me that you’re going to set a trap for him with me as the bait?” You spoke slowly, not entirely keen on the idea of it. However, you could understand it. Logically speaking, it made sense to bait a trap with something valuable. That didn’t make you any more excited over it. Just because you could heal didn’t mean you didn’t feel pain. Dean shook his head.

“If there were another option that didn’t require that of you, we’d go with it. Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone short of you would be a good enough decoy. But I promise, sweetheart, Sam and I won’t let you get hurt.”

Dean and Sam had taken up residence in the guest room of the house, bringing in a small armory with them. While you had been around guns plenty of times before, – your dad used to hunt deer occasionally – they had quite a few more. You watched in fascination as they went through the motions of prepping for the worst. Dean loaded a pistol, cocked it, and held it out to you, handle first. You perked up slightly and reached out to grab it.

“You ever fired one of these before?” he asked, and you noticed that the edge in his voice from before had softened.

“I helped my dad sight his rifle a time or two.” You checked that the safety was on before raising it and looking down the length of the barrel. Shooting a gun wasn’t rocket science, but you weren’t certain how you would respond coming face to face with the vampire again. The night before, you had frozen like a deer in the headlights. Dean had reminded you on multiple occasions that you couldn’t afford to freeze like that again. No pressure, of course. It was easy for him to say. It sounded like he faced down things much worse than vampires on a weekly basis. He had quite a bit more experience than you.

“Don’t worry. We’re going to be right here. Ideally, you shouldn’t need it, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry,” Sam offered you a reassuring half-smile, and you lowered the gun, nodding. It was just insurance. 

Your place was the best spot to lay the trap. Not only did your scent permeate throughout the entire house, but it was also easier to set up an ambush since they had studied the layout of the home. Granted, the slightly cramped halls and rooms weren’t the most ideal, but it was something Sam and Dean were used to dealing with. You paced back and forth in your room, the gun still in your hands, safety preemptively switched off. The last thing you needed was to go to shoot the thing and not be able to. You ran a hand through your hair and checked the clock beside your bed. A full minute hadn’t even passed since you last glanced at it. The longer you thought about it, the less this whole thing made any sense. Weren’t you effectively trapping yourself just as much as the vampire was in this room? And what if the thing didn’t even show up? Were you just supposed to play the waiting game and do this each night until he did come? This was so dumb. 

You flexed the fingers on one hand, curling and uncurling them. They were ice cold and on the borderline of losing feeling. You had half a mind to march downstairs and tell them that this was the worst plan concocted in the history of every plan ever thought up. Ever. Your gaze flicked over to the nightlight beside your desk, and the sight of it alone was enough to soothe you, even if only a little. If things went sideways, you were supposed to Shadow Walk to safety.

Don’t let him bite you. You reminded yourself. It was a mantra in your head. That was really the only absolute in this entire plan. Dead Man’s Blood was the only thing they had to even the playing field against the vampire’s enhanced speed and strength, and your blood would cancel it out. Not to mention you weren’t too keen on a repeat of the previous night.

A thudding sound above you caused your blood to flash-freeze in your veins. Was that him? Was he on the roof? You hadn’t expected him to just come in through the front door or anything, but the thought of his other entry points hadn’t crossed your mind. You turned and raised your gun to point at the window, eyes wide and heart racing. Your breaths came fast and shallow, gun shaking slightly in your white-knuckled grip. As badly as you wanted to call out for Sam or Dean, they had told you that it was better for them to keep some distance until necessary lest the vampire catch their scent and figure out that this was all a setup. So instead, you chewed on your lower lip.

The crash through your ceiling had you pointing the gun and firing blindly into the air, the shots ringing in your ears. Your eyes met your attacker’s, and you saw recognition flash in them. A sinister looking smirk curled his lips upwards.

“Well, well, well... Here I thought my nose might be deceiving me, but here you are, alive and smelling divine,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous. You reigned your nerves in as best as possible and aimed at him. He stepped forward, and you found that your feet were rooted in place by terror. “Kitten’s got claws this time,” he taunted. You squeezed the trigger, and despite your shaking, the bullet dug into the vampire’s shoulder. His predatory grin faltered as he looked down at the wound, confusing creeping across his features. His dark eyes lifted back to you, somehow looking more dangerous than they had a second ago.

“Leave me alone,” your voice came out squeakier than you had meant. 

“That fucking hurt!” he snarled, lunging for you. The gun was knocked from your hands, and the vampire grabbed at your wrist and pulled you close. His nails bit into your skin, drawing pinpricks of scarlet. You grimaced and tried to kick his legs out from under him, but he had pulled you off balance and had you half falling into him. His fangs descended, and the previous night in the alley flashed in your mind’s eye. Another gunshot met your ears, and the vampire groaned in pain, his grip on you loosening for a brief moment. You heard your name called out in Sam’s voice.

“Shadow walk!” he shouted. Right. That was a thing you could do. You ripped your wrist free from the vampire’s hold and stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“Shadow walk, now!” Dean’s voice boomed, authoritative and demanding. You caught the briefest glimpse of him, gun raised – not pointed at you this time – and expression serious. His green eyes met yours for the briefest half-second, and you could see his promise of your safe return there. You trusted him. 

And you Walked.

The shadows welcomed you with open arms, and the grip that fear had on your heart slackened as the Void ate away at it. Unfortunately, the Void didn’t have an appetite for your adrenaline, so even though you were detached from your feelings, you were itching for an outlet for... whatever was left. You screamed, and the Void swallowed it whole. The overhead light went next, and as it winked out of existence, your gaze flicked over to your dancing night light.

You huddled next to the flickering light, not daring to let it out of your sight. 

How am I supposed to know when it’s safe? You wondered, watching as it moved. You and the Winchesters hadn’t set up any sort of system for this, having never expected for you to end up in this situation. And to be fair, you hadn’t been fully transparent about how your abilities worked. They didn’t know that you were completely cut off from the world of light when the Void had its grasp on you. It wasn’t like you had lied on purpose, though. The thought just had never occurred to you. The light abruptly stopped flickering and almost immediately the Void began to consume.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” You were sure you were speaking, but the Void ate the sound as soon as it left your lips. You frantically grasped at the fading light, as though it were something tangible and grabbing it would keep it safe from the Void’s eternal hunger. Your fingers closed around nothing, and all at once, you were left in the dark. You stared in numb disbelief, trembling, staring at the spot where your light – your way home – had been. 

Instantly, you were back in the closet, the first time you had ever been trapped in the shadows. You had hidden there as a young child, playing a game of hide and seek. You tucked yourself behind the coats, giggling to yourself at how genius of a hiding spot it was. You could hear the thudding footsteps of the seeker drawing close. The closet door opened, but you were tucked so far back that the shadows must have hidden you just right that he didn’t see you. The closet door shut, and you listened with excitement as the footsteps retreated. All too soon, there was nothing. You listened intently, expecting the footsteps to come back. 

They never did.

You didn’t know how long you sat in that closet. Everything was far too quiet. You couldn’t hear the laughing from the other kids. Eventually, you figured that you had hidden long enough, but when you looked around for the closet door, you couldn’t find it. Your fingers found emptiness no matter which way you turned. You called out for your mom, but you couldn’t even hear your own voice. Finally, a sliver of light drew your attention. The sliver widened, and you raced towards it. All at once, the world was right again. You could hear kids clamoring around you, and you raced out of the closet into your mother’s arms. You were crying, and you hadn’t even felt your tears until they were soaking your mother’s shirt. She held you close, murmuring soothing words and stroking your back.

“You’re safe. Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” she cooed. You held her tighter.

Flashing pulled you from the memory. You stood and looked around, eyes wide and hope blooming in your chest. The feeling was fleeting, but the determination it left in its wake couldn’t be taken. Three more flashes. You honed in on it, but it didn’t flash again. A half a moment later, it flashed again, this time in a different spot. Another series of three. 

Three. A hunter’s universal signal of distress. Your father had taught you that. No. It wasn’t a distress signal. Not this time. It was your beacon back. When the next series of flashes happened, you dove towards them. Your senses returned to you. The metallic smell of blood was the first thing that hit you. You had Stepped out of Dean’s shadow, hand still reaching out towards the flashlight he was holding. Your eyes went wide at the sight of him and without thinking, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and reveling in the feeling of feeling him. He grunted, but you felt him return the hug. 

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” he said softly. You pushed away from him slightly to look him in the eye, and he brushed a tear from your cheek that you hadn’t noticed was there.

Adrenaline was still coursing through you, and as you stared at Dean, you thought, fuck it, and pressed your lips against his. Your eyes closed as you felt his initial tension slip away, and he relaxed into the kiss, returning it. Dean was warm, his presence grounding. Sam coughed somewhere beside you, and you broke the kiss, suddenly very aware of the moment at hand. You felt heat creep across your cheeks, taking several steps back away from Dean.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the adrenaline fading away and leaving embarrassment in its wake. You weren’t quite sure where that boldness had come from. “Um... thank you.” Dean flashed you a smile so bright that you were sure that you would’ve been able to see it in the Void.

“That’s one helluva thank you, sweetheart.”

“Maybe let us get stitched up before you go thanking him again,” Sam said, shifting somewhat awkwardly. 

You looked at them, really looked at them. Sam had several cuts across his face and a particularly nasty looking laceration along his shoulder. And Dean– holy shit how had you missed the three gashes cut across his chest? How was he still standing? You took in the situation. There was a headless body lying on the floor. Your room looked like a storm hard torn through it with the bedside table having been smashed, and the remnants of your nightlight lay shattered on the floor. You just about retched at the sight of the body and instead chose to focus on the brothers. Maybe you could see if there was a limit to how much your blood could heal.

“Either of you got a knife?” Sam offered you the bloodied machete he held.

Dean typically passed out hard after a hunt, though it surprised him just how deeply he had slept this time. He was used to sleeping in unfamiliar places which meant he kept some semblance of his hunter instincts even when conked out. But when he woke up in the guest room, back surprisingly not sore from a shitty motel mattress, he found that he was the last one up. His hand went to his chest, fingers dragging over the spots where the vampire’s claws had dug into him. There was hardly a whisper of the wounds left, and Dean found himself horribly conflicted. He never would’ve asked for you to bleed for him. Sam, maybe. But Dean was fine taking a bit of punishment. God knew he deserved it for not thinking of a better plan that didn’t involve putting you in harm’s way. He shook his head. What was done was done. 

He pushed the guilt from his mind and allowed himself to be lured to the kitchen by the smell of bacon and coffee. You and Sam were already sitting at the kitchen table chatting animatedly. There was a plate of eggs sitting on the kitchen counter, sunny side up with the yolks still soft. Bacon sat on the other side of the plate, and while it looked like the original portion had been plated in an orderly fashion, there was a second portion that seemed like it had been thrown on haphazardly. 

“Good morning!” You beamed up at him from your seat at the table. “I was gonna get you up earlier, but Sam said you needed your beauty rest.” Dean stretched and grabbed the plate of food, taking a seat across the table from you.

“Yeah, it’s hard work looking as good as I do,” he quipped, flashing you his most charming smile before digging into his food. When he glanced up, he noted the slight flush of your cheeks. He hadn’t been up for anything immediately following the events of the previous night, but with the way you had kissed him, Dean couldn’t help but think that it couldn’t hurt to stay in town for another night. Maybe two if you’d have him.

Sam cleared his throat, and Dean looked up from his plate, half a piece of bacon hanging from his mouth.

“She had a question for us, right?” he said, glancing over at you. Dean bit down on the bacon and set the other part of it on his plate, grabbing a napkin and wiping his face. He was letting his good mood get the better of him, but that was no excuse to let his manners fly out the window.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” You straightened up in your seat, and Dean watched as you ran a finger along the rim of your mug.

“I... I’d like to go with you guys. When you leave town, I mean.” Dean shook his head.

“Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to be a hunter.”

“It’s not necessarily that I want to be a hunter though. I mean, it would be interesting for sure. But that’s not the main reason. I’ve spent my whole life being something not quite human. There’s always been something about me that I’ve never been able to figure out. I’ve spent years and years trying to solve that side of me, and I’ve never made any progress. But you two show up, and suddenly I feel like I’ve actually got a chance at cracking the mystery I’ve lived with for my entire life.”

“No, this is too dangerous, and I can’t let you just throw everything away for it. You’ve got a good, normal life here, and you should really be grateful for it.”

“Except it’s not normal!” You stood up from your seat, jaw set in determination. While you weren’t yelling, you had gotten louder. “I’m not normal! I want to know why, and you two are the only ones who have given me a glimpse into a world that might actually have the answers I need. And you’re going to leave. And I can’t just stand and watch it happen. I can’t spend the rest of my life hiding a significant part of who I am. People would commit me to a mental hospital if I told them. Or worse, scientists get wind of me, and I would spend the rest of my life as a lab rat getting poked and prodded. I need to find my place in the world, and I know it’s not here.”

Dean looked down at the table, and he could see Sam eyeing him out of his peripherals. Sam would’ve said something already if he disagreed with her. His silence said volumes. Your argument had hit close to home, as much as Dean didn’t want to admit it. Life as a hunter was much the same, keeping the true nature of who one was under wraps and never truly letting anyone get too close for fear of losing them. He wet his lips and glanced back up at you. It was a mistake. Sam was right. He really was a sucker for those big, doe ‘help me’ eyes. He heaved a sigh. Just his luck that he could empathize with you.

“Alright, but I’m getting the silver, salt, and holy water first.”

---

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Part 1 --- Part 3