#rarely gets inverted in stories

[onethousandrbirds]

"why aren't there more poor/working class vampires?" i dunno tumblr user, maybe b/c of the metaphor inherent to them (that vampirism is to predate on others, literally sustaining oneself by taking their life unto yours), that simple inversion would carry some unfortunate implications (y'know the idea that poor people only are parasites that leech off society)!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Just Giving In

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, truth curses (with a silly twist!), light fluff, angst, smut (fingering, p in v sex, creampie), love confessions, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: You're under a very annoying truth curse. The kind of truth curse that will kill you if one very specific, Dean-related truth isn't told. But apparently no one's allowed to just die in peace anymore.

Author's Note: It's amazing how I'm able to delude myself into truly believing that I'll actually write something short and only horny. No. We must write 3k of story and 5k of emotional smut. Enjoy!

Title from Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine

Word Count: 8.6k

It’s past midnight when you get back to the bunker. 

You were supposed to be back that afternoon, but certain complications arose, and you’re back now. You’ll have a long, sleepless night to come up with an excuse for why exactly you were five hours late, didn’t text Sam and Dean that you were going to be five hours late, where exactly you were in the first place, and why the car looks like that. Scraped and dented and wrecked, like it had been put through a meat grinder and spat out in a hunk of metal that somehow didn’t explode when you drove it. 

You’re glad you didn’t take the Impala. If Dean yelled at you right now, you might start crying on the spot. Thankfully—in what should be a rare stroke of luck, but feels like a dagger right into your stomach—Sam and Dean seem to have given up on trying to wait for you to come home, so you’re free to retreat to your room and cry in private, like any reasonable adult who’s probably going to die within the week would-

“You’re back.” 

A light behind you flicks on as Dean snaps from across the room, and you grimace as everything inverts. Dean did wait up for you, and that’s tiny and electric high that goes right up your spine. You’re also not lucky, but that just feels like a given at this point. 

You will not cry in front of Dean. You have spent the whole night repeating to yourself that, no matter what happens here, you will not cry in front of Dean. He either think nothing of this week, and it will fade into the distance as you figure this out yourself and he never knows, or he’ll look back on it with nothing but simple grief and anger, remember you fondly and furiously instead of as a weak, emotional, manipulative bitch. Remembers you as the person you’ve spent so long proving yourself to be, instead of the feral girl they’d found you as. 

It doesn’t make turning around to face him any easier. He’s sitting in his usual chair, glaring at you with his arms crossed, and there are bags under his eyes that you put there. A tight line to his lips that’s your responsibility, because you’d fucked up and he knows it. He always knows it. 

Because you fuck up a lot.

“Hey, Dean, what’s up-“

“What’s up?” He snaps, and you have to force your body not to flinch. “You’re crawling back here at one in the goddamn morning without ever, I don’t know, thinking to fucking call when you realized you’d be late, and you’re saying what’s up?”

You swallow. “I lost my phone.”

“You, fuck-“ Dean rubs his jaw with a hand, giving you a look of pure disbelief. “You could’ve borrow someone’s, or prayed to Cas, or just, goddamnit-“ he mutters your name, looking at you with an exhaustion that makes your gut flail. “Where the hell even were you?”

“Um,” you glance down at your hands. “Hunt?”

“Hunt.” His voice is flat, and you wince. “That’s all you’re going to say.”

You nod. “Rowena called me. Needed help with something.”

“And you just fucking went with her, without telling anyone-“

“I didn’t just go with her, I brought a gun. I was careful.” you try to stand a little taller, looking back up to Dean, because you need to sell your half-truth of a story and get out of here. Out of where Dean’s just right there, and it’s making your skin crawl and your blood cold and your eyes push out of your skull the longer you lie to him. “And I did tell Cas-“

“Son of a bitch, that’s not enough.” Dean groans, pushing out of the chair to glower down at you. It’s an intimidation tactic you’ve seen him use before, where he makes himself large and furious, almost beast like. Sometimes it makes him look bigger than Sam, and he only pulls it out when he’s furious, and demanding answers. You don’t think he knows that, when he uses it on you, it does not have the intended effect.  

“Dean-“

“Cas didn’t tell us.” Dean hisses your name, stalking across the room and getting far too close for your brain to function properly. “You need to tell us, because we were, I was-“ Dean cuts himself off with a grunt, his whole body rigid as he scans over your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, and it’s the truth, so it’s like clear, fresh water over your head and down your throat. “I didn’t mean to freak you guys out. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t-” Dean’s jaw is clenched, and his words seem pushed through his teeth. “Just go to bed,” he mutters your name, and you feel something in your chest snap. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod weakly, and almost run away from him. But not to bed. You’ve already blown this up way too much to just go to bed. 

You go right to Sam’s room and bang on the door, keeping a careful eye over your shoulder for Dean to walk into the hall.

It takes a very long, tense minute, but eventually you hear a groan from the other side of the door, tired words muffled through the wood.

“Dean, she’ll be back, and you’re not helping anything-“ The door swings open to reveal a messy haired, bleary-eyed Sam, and he blinks at you with a frown. “Oh, you’re back. You should go tell Dean-“

“He knows.”

“Cool, that’s good.” Sam scans over you—bouncing slightly on your feet, every movement and breath feeling frantic and borrowed—and frowns. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, uh, you need to talk about it-“

You don’t bother to answer, pushing past Sam into his room and dropping on the end of his mattress, watching him blink at you, his frown deepening every second.

“Yeah, you can come in-“

“Can you please close the door?” You whisper, like Dean might somehow hear from wherever he’d gone after your fight. 

Sam nods slowly, and the movement you hear the click of the doorknob, the words start to fall out of you like vomit. 

“I fucked up, Sam. I really, really fucked up, it’s bad, I’m fucking fucked-“

“Woah, slow down.” Sam moves across the room, running a hand through his hair. “Just, start from the top. Where were you-“

“Rowena called me for help. Some sort of coven drama, she said she needed some backup because her magic was weakened.” You take a long, shaky breath, unable to look anywhere but the corner of Sam’s carpet. “I told Cas, just in case it was a trap, and left. I owed her a favor-“

“Wait, since when did you owe Rowena a favor-“

“Mark of Cain.” You mumble. “I told her I’d owe her if she helped Dean. One favor, cashable on anything.”

Sam says your name slowly. “You didn’t need to do that, we would have figured it out. I mean, Dean wouldn’t want you to-“

“I know, I don’t need you to-“ You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can we focus on one stupid choice at a time, please?”

“Yeah, sorry, keep going. Why are you fucked.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and decide to skip most of the details. Sam did not need to know about how the case was indeed at trap, or how you’d known it was a trap, but the favor had been a blood oath, so you weren’t able to run or call them. He didn’t need to know how you’d mowed down about five witches with the car—the sickening crunch still rattling around your skull—or how it wasn’t just blood and sweat on your brow, but something from an animal you’d really hoped you’d mistranslated from Latin. 

He just needs to know the reason you hadn’t killed Rowena when you’d escaped and taken out the rest of the coven. 

He just needs to know about the problem.

“It went to shit. Really big shit, Sam. I’m kind of… cursed.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when you finally gather the confidence to look at Sam, he’s gaping at you, frozen in place.

“What do you mean,” his voice is low, every word slow and deliberate. “Kind of cursed.”

“I mean very cursed.” You mumble. “Really fucking cursed.”

“Shit.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I said you were probably fine, Dean’s gonna kill me-“

“No!” You stand up frantically, your voice almost a squeak. “Don’t tell Dean!”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I tell Dean?!” Sam snaps, looking at you like you’ve gone insane. “If you’re really cursed, we need all hands, and Dean-“

“He can’t know, Sam, please.” You might start crying, every word choked in your throat. “Don’t tell him.”

“I…” Sam trials off, his face dropping into a deep frown that seems to be mostly made of worry as he says your name. “What, exactly, is the curse?”

You sigh, hugging yourself as you speak. “If I don’t resolve my deepest secret, I’ll die.”

Sam blinks. “Like, die die? Death die?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen as the situation fully sinks in, his whole body going slack as he pulls the pieces together. “Fuck.”

You hum a soft agreement. “Fuck.”

“And why can’t I tell Dean? I mean, he’ll want to help-“

“You know why.” You whisper. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Fuck.” Sam groans. “And you’d rather die than-“

“Yes.” You lower yourself down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare ahead at nothing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I just. I can’t. I don’t-“ You taste the sting of metal as you bite through your cheek. “I don’t know what to do. I’m going to d-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound, and hear the bed shift as Sam drops at your side and pulls you into a gentle hug.

“We’ll figure it out.” He mutters your name, and you make another weak, strangled noise. “I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Over your first, weak sob, you don’t hear the door open. You only know it opens because Dean clears his throat, and your blood turns white-hot in your body, caught between embarrassment and nerves and a deep, soft and starved piece of your heart that’s trying to climb into your limbs and rip your body away from Sam’s to fly to Dean’s.

“Sammy, she-“ He cuts himself off as he sees you, and you die a little at how he says your name. Like he hates it. “You’re in here.”

You nod, keeping your face angled down, and you hear Dean shift slightly in the doorway. 

“Why are you in Sam’s room.”

There’s no good answer for that, and Sam doesn’t seem to have one either. There’s no plausible lie for why you’re on the floor on Sam’s room, why you’re sniffling, and why he’s hugging you that doesn’t sound insane. Even the truth wouldn’t exactly be an easy sell.

And it hurts. When Dean just sighs and grunts that he doesn’t want to know—that you and Sam can go back to fucking braiding each other’s hair or whatever—and stomps out of the room, it’s like a knife to your gut. But you can’t tell him. Not the truth. Not any of it.

So this will only be the first knife. And you’d worry about what you would be telling him when this was over—how you could possibly explain yourself��if you had any faith you were going to get out of this. 

But you don’t. The week crawls on, and it all only gets so much worse. Vague illness starts to feel like you’re being mauled from inside, and Dean’s anger turns to bullets.

You spend most of your days in the library with Sam, combing through book after book, looking for anything about how you can fix this, and every time Dean walks in, he looks like he wants to punch someone. Like he’s disgusted by your very presence where he can see you, like you’re a spider that’s crawled into his house and he can’t even stand the sight of you. 

“I’m getting dinner.” He snaps on the third night, and when you look up from your book—Sam standing behind you, having hunched over your body to read the passage you’d been pointing to—Dean’s jaw is clenched, his fists curled at his side. “Neither of you got groceries, so I’m ordering. What do you want.”

His voice is flat. It makes your chest feel like it’s being run over by a train.

“I’ll take whatever you get.” You offer him a small smile, because you can’t help yourself, and it just makes him glare more. “But can I please have a milkshake as well?”

Dean narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know where the hell I’m going.”

“You’re going to the diner, Dean.” You shrug. “You always go to the diner.”

He grunts, something hot flashing over his face that you don’t understand. “Fine. Milkshake.”

He doesn’t bother to ask any follow-up questions. He doesn’t bother to wait for Sam to say what he wants. Dean just marches up to the garage, vanishes for an hour—the diner is ten minutes away, and you start to feel your stomach and heart twist the longer he’s gone—and returns with a slam of the door, throwing a salad at Sam and placing a burger and milkshake in front of you before stomping out of the library.

Dean got your favorite flavor. You hadn’t told him to, but he had.

It tastes like chalk. And you’ve never hated yourself more.

After that, he barely speaks to you. Just low grunts and glowers at you whenever you cross paths, his presence in the bunked suddenly scares. He’d usually sit with you and Sam while you read, cracking unhelpful jokes that make Sam roll his eyes and you giggle, but he’s just gone. Locked in the Dean Cave or the garage, shuffling around the kitchen with a sullen expression, swallowing his dinner whole and refusing to really even look at you.

It hurts more than any anger could. It’s lonely and cancerous the longer it goes on, because you’re still talking to and hanging out with Sam, but he doesn’t count. Your whole heart isn’t orbiting around Sam. The curse is completely indifferent to Sam. The curse doesn’t care when Sam grumbles or frowns at you. It cares when Dean hates you. You think it can feel that this won’t be resolved—because it won’t be, you grow more and more certain with every passing day that this is how you will die—and takes the opportunity to root deeper into your body. Every sneer or glare Dean gives you sits under your nails to claw at your skin. It covers you in sweat in the dead of night, and chokes you when you’re in the shower and the water’s burning your skin.

Sam keeps trying to convince you to just do it, just say the thing to Dean because the worst that can happen is that you’re heartbroken but alive.

“And I really don’t think it would even come to that.” He tells you from across the table at 2am, because you’re running out of time and sleep isn’t something you can even remember how to do anymore. “I mean, it’s Dean-“

“That’s the problem, Samuel.” You hiss. The curse has started to make you mean, and if you make it out alive, you’ll have to buy Sam a million bottles of hair gel to make up for what you’re putting him through. “It’s Dean. He already doesn’t like me-“

Sam frowns. “Why would you think that-“

“Because I’m a responsibility.” You’re spitting, and it tastes like venom. “I’m your kid shadow, I’m Dean’s kid shadow, I’m a burden-“

“You’re not a burden,” Sam says your name slowly. “To either of us. I mean, if what you said about Rowena is true, you saved Dean from the Mark-“

“That doesn’t count. That was just a deal I made-“

“A deal you made for Dean.” Sam’s pushing back. You wish he’d stop. “Most people in our lives wouldn’t have done that for us. And Dean doesn’t think you’re his kid shadow, by the way. I mean, I’ve only ever-“

“Sam.” Your voice is flat. A little broken. “Please don’t. Even if he doesn’t hate me, I- I just can’t-“

“But Dean-“

“Please.” You’re going to cry again. “You won’t convince me.”

Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Well, we need to try something. I’m not just going to let you die.”

You don’t think that’s up to Sam. You don’t think it’s up to anyone anymore. You won’t tell Dean, because you’ve scanned over book after book about spell phrasing, and decided that telling Dean wouldn’t even help. You had to resolve your deepest secret. Rejection that burns your heart to ash, that clouds your lungs and makes you cower and falter won’t be resolving anything, and then you’ll just die in more pain.

You let Sam convince you to try something. More for him than for you. You lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at your hideous reflection in the mirror—your skin a little sunken, your eyes lined with red, your lips raw from being chewed until they bled—and start speaking a whisper, because you can’t stand the sound of your own voice.

“I love Dean Winchester.” You tell yourself, as if you’re not so deeply aware of how your love is tattooed onto your every breath and heartbeat. “I love him. I am going to die, and I love him, and I am very-“ You choke slightly, your eyes stinging as the world blurs. “I am very, very sorry. Not for loving him, but for forcing him to be loved by me. I’m sorry I don’t know how to stop loving him. I’m sorry I’m leaving him. But I am not sorry for loving him. I… I spent a lifetime surrounded by cruel animals who called themselves angels, and he’s the only person I’ve ever- I could believe- I just-“ You drop your head, turning up the faucet to drown out every weak sob and apology. “I love him. And he… he’s too good be obligated to love me. So I think I’ll just…”

You trail off, and crumble onto the tile floor. When you dry your tears and yank yourself back together, Sam’s waiting for you a little down the hall. You shake your head, his shoulders slump, and that’s it. For Sam it’s not—he turns around and marches right back to the library—but for you, it is. You’re done. 

You’ll hole up in your room and die alone. Like how’d you’d been meant to all along, lent only a little bit of extra time by Dean saving you to begin with.

And that time had run out. So you’ll just go die alone.

lay flat on your bed as your vision starts to dance with spots, and spend your time trying to image what a heaven you’re not allowed into will look like. Cas has told you every person gets their own, but you don’t really want that. It sounds like more of your life, and it’s pointless to worry about because you’re headed nowhere but down, but you’d still rather spend eternity with someone.

One person. You’d like to spend eternity with one person. 

The same person who had somehow gotten into your locked room, and is snapping your name as he stands at the foot of your bed. You’d be angrier he’d just barged in if you could remember how to be anything but in pain. You’d snap back if your mouth knew how to be anything but numb. 

“Dean-“

“What the fuck are you doing.” Dean hisses, and you close your eyes, the light suddenly painfully bright. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” You whisper, and he scoffs. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Dean, I just don’t feel well.”

“That’s fucking bullshit-“

You sigh. “It’s not. I’m sick.” 

There’s a moment of silence, then, “how sick.”

“Fever.” You mumble. “Stomach bug. Maybe the flu. You should probably leave-“

“No,” he grunts, and you hear his steps. He’s coming closer, and your skin might be boiling off your body. “I’m not leaving you-“

“It’s not leaving if I ask you to go.” You mumble, and you can feel the heat of his body off to the side, can hear his breathing—maybe even his heartbeat—and it’s making everything worse-

“I’m not going.”

“Dean, just, please-“

“No, I’m sick of you fucking ignoring me, and I- I don’t even care what’s going on with you and Sam-“

You frown. “Nothing’s going on with me and Sam-“

“I have eyes,” Dean sneers your name, and there’s a tone in his voice that’s almost wounded. “You were hugging in his room, you’re always fucking whispering and hanging out-“

“That’s not-“ You swallow, dragging your eyes open to find him glaring down at you. He looks wounded too. “It’s for a case.”

“What case? A case that I’m not allowed to know about? Because that’s not a case, sweetheart, that’s a secret-“

You almost throw up, just from that word. “It’s- I’m not keep any secrets, Dean, just please go-“

“No!” He’s almost shouting, and the sound is like a cannon into your gut. “I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but you’re suddenly putting yourself in danger, and stuck to my brother, and you’re not talking to me anymore-“

“You’re not talking to me, Dean.” You whisper, his gaze burning you right down to the cavity of your chest. “I’m always in the library-“

“Yeah, I know, with Sam.” Dean scowls, and you’re too tired to think almost anything, but that’s strange. Dean never says Sam like that. Like it’s a horrible word. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, watching Dean carefully. “He’s helping me with something-“

“Something I can’t help you with?”

You blink, ready to lie and say no, but your mush of a brain doesn’t appear to be up to that task. “No.”

Dean’s brow furrows slightly. “So I could help you.”

“I-“ You feel a stab in your intestine, and your voice grows hoarse. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Why-“

“Because I- Just go away, Dean-“

He shakes his head, saying your name in a stern, unwavering voice. “Could I help you-“

“N-“ You swallow a groan as your lungs contract, and this is dangerous. You’re too far gone to lie anymore, and that’s the only chance you have. If Dean keeps poking at you, you’ll tell the truth. You can’t tell the truth. “Please just leave me alone-“

“I’m not leaving you alone.” He snaps, dropping onto the side of your bed to prove his point. “You never left me alone, with the Mark-“

“That’s not-“ You can’t swallow your next sound of pain, or the whine that leaves your throat when Dean’s hand grabs your thigh. “Dean, please go-“

“Do you want me to go.”

“No.” You say it before you can think, and hate that the pain over your muscles lessens when Dean stays, and when his hand starts to rub slow circles. “But you- you have to-“

“I said I’m staying.” He grunts. “And you’re not changing my mind, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“I did.” You whisper, closing your eyes again. Looking at his handsome, annoyingly determined face isn’t helping anyone. “I’m sick.”

“Fine. What’s making you sick.”

“Curse.”

Fuck.

Dean’s silent for a long moment, then-

“What the fuck do you mean, curse.”

“Me.” You mumble. “Curse on me.”

“And how did a curse get on you-“

“Rowena.”

“That fucking bitch.” He mutters, and you feel his grip on you tighten slightly. Almost protectively. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me-“

That was probably a rhetorical question. Your sudden truth-telling streak doesn’t seem to care at all. “I was worried you’d hate me.”

“I- what?”

“I was worried-“

“I heard you,” he grunts. “I just, why the hell would you ever think I’d hate you-“

“Because I suck.” You whisper. “And I can’t- I don’t deserve you.”

Dean’s silent again. You wish he’d stop doing that. “You think you don’t deserve me?”

You nod, barely a movement at all, and Dean groans. You’re still not strong enough to look at him.

“Sweetheart, you- I’m not-“ He cuts himself off, his hand resuming his circles, you’re not sure he knows he’s doing it. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to tell me the truth. Got it?”

You hum. Like you’d even have a choice.

“What will cure the curse.”

“I need to,” you try to fight down the words, but you’re light-headed and faint and Dean’s hand is really warm, so you fail. “I need to resolve my deepest secret.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “What’s your deepest secret?”

You’re going to bite off your tongue. And when Dean says your name again, his voice a little rougher, it drags your eyes open to stare at him. Watching you with a focus you can feel in your bones, that’s prying the truth out of you, and he’s just looking at you and you can’t do this-

“Dean, I-“ You digs your nails into your skin, something flashes in his eyes, and you can’t look away. But you can’t stop yourself either, and if you have to watch Dean’s disgust, that might kill you right here. “Please turn around.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I need you to turn around.” You whisper. “Please.”

He nods slowly, twisting away from you, and it’s like a green light to your stupid, traitorous mouth. The words fall out of you like vomit, and if this is the end, at least it might be fast. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, and I don’t want to stop, and I love you. Only you. Just you. Can’t remember how to love anyone else, because I love you. I love your jokes and your grumpiness and how protective you are because you make me feel safe, and I love that you’re kind of a dork and a loser but you’re also so hot, I love your voice and your face and your hands, and I and I want you in a, um-“ You squeeze your thighs together, staring at the suddenly rapid rise and fall of Dean’s back. “A way that I shouldn’t talk about-“

“How do you want me.” He grunts, his voice low and a little gruff, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“On me.” You whisper. “In me. I want you on my face and in my hands and fuck, I want your inside of me. But I also want to wake up next to you and hold your hand and fall asleep in your lap, and fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a whine as something sharp hits your right in the heart, and Dean’s silent. He’s not turning around, or leaving, or doing anything but sitting and breathing for so long, for too long-

“You-“ He shakes his head slightly, and you could swear he’s leaning slightly backward. “You want me.”

“Yeah, I- yes.”

“You love me.”

“Yes.” Too late to go back now. “I love you, Dean.”

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounds broken. He sounds sad.

You’re so confused. It’s almost enough to distract from the pain racking your whole body.

“I- I didn’t think you’d-“ Not care. Dean couldn’t not care. He cares too much. “I wasn’t sure what-“

“What I’d say?”

“What you’d do.”

“What would you-“ He’s definitely leaning back. He’s closer, too. “What would you want me to do?”

“What would I want?” 

Dean nods.

“I- it doesn’t matter-“

“Yes it-“ He sighs, twisting around to face you. You can’t read the expression on his face. It’s lost and it’s afraid and it’s… hopeful. There’s this small light that’s so deep in his eyes that seems like real, true hope. “Please,” he mutters your name, and you might be melting. “Just, entertain me. What would you want me to do?”

“I’d want to tell me you love me.” You whisper, and if this curse is going to kill you, you hope it does it now, right before you lose all your dignity forever. “Like I love you.”

Dean shakes his head slightly, and your heart might be splitting in half. “But I- I tried to kill you-“

“The demon tried to kill me. That wasn’t really you-“

“Yes, it was-“

“No.” Your voice gains a little strength, and you push up on your elbows. “You saved me, Dean. You rescued me from the angels-“

“Anyone would’ve done that-“

“But they didn’t.” You snap. “You did. And I don’t love anyone, I love you.”

“That’s-“ He groans, his voice growing hoarse. “You- why?”

“What do you mean, why-“

“Why would you love me? I mean, unless this is some sick, fucked up prank-“

“It’s not a prank-“

“Well why?” He shouts your name, and he looks distressed. Like this is shredding him apart. “Why the hell would you love me-“

“Because I like loving you.” You grab his hand, his own panic starting to set into your own body, making this all the worse. “It feels right. And I- I know you don’t love me-“

You’re not sure what’s happening. Dean’s hands are cupping your face, and his mouth is on yours, and he tastes like whiskey and coffee and pecan, and you feel okay. You really feel okay. All the pain and sickness is dissolving from your body, and Dean is kissing you. Kissing you with an unforgiving, demanding desperation, his tongue down your throat and his body lowering down over yours, pinning you to the bed as he groans against your lips.

The sound jumpstarts something in you. Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck right before he can pull away or hesitate, and you throw everything he’s silently offering you back to him. Biting on his lower lip and wrapping your legs around his torso, grinding up into him as he makes a deep, satisfied noise and moves one hand to wrap around you waist, holding you steady against him as he rises up, moving you to stay in his lap.

“You’re, shit.” Dean lets out a low chuckle, pressing a small, gentler kiss to the tip of your nose as you breathe in ragged time. “You’re such a fucking idiot, sweetheart.”

You lean back to frown at him. “No I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are. But I am too.” He sighs, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and speaking against your skin. “Seems like we’re made for each other, huh.”

“Dean, I-“

“Wait, just-“ Dean kisses up the column of your throat, ending right behind your ear, and his voice a low sound that falls right down into your core. “Gimme a second.”

“Dean-“

“Please,” he mutters, and when you pull back he looks nervous. It’s strange, but adorable, and you nod. He needs a second, you’ll give him a million. Anything to keep him here a little longer, to keep the ebb of the sickness going. 

“Okay.” You whisper, and—taking the biggest gamble of your life—lean forward to kiss him again. Just a light, almost innocent press of your lips to his. He tenses, his arms around you tightening, and you’d have panicked if it didn’t seem like he was clinging to you. Like he was afraid you were going to vanish. 

“I- uh,” Dean says your name slowly, and it’s odd. You’ve heard him say it exactly like that a million, but this feels deeper. Like a prayer. “I lo-“ He cuts himself off, his brow drawing tightly together, and you can feel your heart in your throat. Set to either explode or move into Dean as you hold your breath. “You. I- you- it’s- fuck.” He scowls, and you offer him your gentler smile, running a hand over the soft stubble on his jaw, even as you feel your blood start to go cold again.

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

“Yeah. I do, I-“ He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and speaking against them as if he’s trying to tell your body more than your mind. “I love you. A lot. So stop being cursed.”

You stare at him, your voice barely a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Did it work?”

It did. The curse seemed to vanish the moment Dean kissed you—like it knew that what he was trying to tell you before he even said it—but now the world is just color and light and Dean. It’s enchanting. He’s enchanting. He’s all genuine and powerful focus on you, and. worry that makes you feel warm, and love you can suddenly see everywhere on him. You don’t know how you missed it before, because it’s in his eyes and coating his lips and in every flex of his body around you. It would knock you down if he wasn’t holding you. 

“Yeah.” You smile at Dean, and his own mouth tugs up slightly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Any time. I, uh, sorry about getting pissed about you and Sam.“

“It’s fine, I-“ You paused, frowning at him. “Were you jealous?”

He scowls, his cheeks turning a little red. “Obviously.”

“Of Sam-“

“You were really close with him all the time.” Dean snaps. “And I- you seemed pissed at me, and super stressed, and usually you’d come to me for that stuff, but you were hugging Sam and talking to him instead of me-“

“Because I don’t love Sam. I love you, that’s why I told you-”

“I didn’t fucking know that.” He grumbles. “I- Sam doesn’t know everything about how I feel about you, but he knew enough, and I- I thought you were choosing him- And I- You’re not my girl but you felt like my girl and I didn’t-“

“Your girl?” Your face splits into a wide smile, and some of the tension seems to leave Dean as he nods. 

“Yeah. If you want.”

“Yes.” You squeak, and Dean’s hand starts to run slowly down your thigh. “Yes, please.”

“You sure?” He raises his brows, and it’s really hard to think when he’s so close, and this is suddenly overwhelmingly real. He’s really broad and warm against you, and he’s really touching you, and he said the thing but that doesn’t mean-

“Yeah, but are, are you sure-“

“Baby, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He drawls, and you swallow as he leans in closer, his nose bumping yours. “And I’d be very happy to prove that.”

“Prove it?” You whisper, your eyes trapped onto his glimmering, darkened ones. “I, um, that, how-“

“However you’d like,” he says your name with a smirk, and it’s amazing how any all insecurity he had only a minute ago seems to have vanished. “You wanna tell me how’d you want me to prove it? Or do you need some suggestions?”

You might be drooling. “Suggestions, please.”

Dean hums, holding you carefully as he rises on his knees, bends you down onto the mattress, and starts to trace slow, taunting hands over your body.

“We could start slow,” he mutters, playing with the hem of your shorts, broad fingers brushing over your skin. “I could take my time with you, sweetheart. Do the proper thing, take you out to dinner and movie, wait until the third date to give you everything-“

“No!” You yelp. “Not slow-“

Dean’s hand slides under your shorts, his palm resting right over your already sore pussy, and he chuckles at your high gasp. 

“Alright, baby, not slow.” He leans down to pull you into a long, slow kiss, smirking against your lips as you start to grind into his hand. “But we’re going on a date. I’ve had years to plan it, wouldn’t want all my hard work to go to waste.”

You nod a little stupidly, your nails digging into his arm braced near your head. “How- what do you mean years-“

“You’re not the only one who had that at first sight thing.” Dean mutters, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve lost sleep over you, baby girl. We’re going to do this right, no witches involved, but,” he drops his head to kiss right behind your ear, humming as a high moan escapes your lips. “I’ve got a million things I want to do you, and fuck me if I’m going waste time not doing them.”

“Yeah, good, do that-“ You gasp as Dean’s thumb finds your clothed clit, starting to draw firm, fast circles around it. “Shit, Dean-“

“That’s my name.” He growls in your ear, flicking against you and smirking at your high whine. “C’mon, sweetheart gotta get you ready for me-“

“I, I’m ready-“

He chuckles. “No, you’re not. Wanna make you feel good, not break you.”

“What if, fuck-“ You feel a brief, sharp moment of cold air as Dean pulls your shorts and panties down, shoving two fingers into your cunt. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s studying your every hitched breath and blurred gaze, smirking as he begins to slowly move inside of you, scissoring and crooking and pushing in deeper every time-

“What if what, pretty girl?” He teases, his pace increasing slightly. “Use your words.”

Your back arches off the bed as Dean re-angles his hand, pressing his palm to your clit and starting to rub strong, sharp circles as his fingers reach a blissful, almost painfully good pace, but remain too shallow to hit that sensitive spot deep your cunt and send you over the edge. “What if I want you to break me?” You gasp, your arm wrapping around his neck as he groans, dropping his brow against yours. “Please, Dean-“

“You, fuck-“ He grunts your name, and you feel something prodding at your inner thigh. “Not now, baby, need to be gentle-“

“No you don’t-“

“Yeah, I do.” Dean’s movements still as he rises on his knees over you, and you’re pretty certain the authoritative thing is supposed to be stern and intimidating, but it’s mostly just making you grind on his hand and reach up for him pathetically.

“Dean-“

“Listen to me.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress, sighing as you moan again, squeezing around his fingers, still in your cunt. “Fuck, you nearly just died-“

“I’m okay now.” You whisper. “I feel great. I feel, fuck Dean, I feel so good-“

He hisses as you spread your legs, writhing on the bed for anything, at this point you’ll take anything Dean offers you-

“Fuck yeah, you do.” He mutters, his fingers starting to pump slowly again, scanning over your body with an almost awestruck expression. “Bet you feel like heaven, baby girl, but we need to go slow. I promise I can wreck you later, but today-“

“Slow.” You sigh, and he nods.

“Slow. But,” Dean’s free hand starts to trail under your shirt, palming at your breasts, rolling your nipples between calloused, strong fingers. “Doesn’t mean we can’t take care of you, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy, still going to get you fucking cockdrunk. Okay?”

You nod, your eyes slightly glazed over, and Dean bends his fingers deep inside you, right one that spot, letting out a low gasp as you whine.

“Say okay, sweetheart.” He grunts, his hand moving from your breast, over your neck, to your mouth, pressing his thumb on your lower lip until it parts. You moan against him, your eyes fluttering slightly, and you’re already too high, too needy, to do anything but listen.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” He coos, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips, his nostrils flaring when you start to suck on him with an abandon. “Fuck, so good, I can’t wait to ruin you, baby, you’re never gonna even think about another cock-“

You haven’t thought about another cock in years, and you haven’t even seen it yet. But Dean’s thumb is bumping the back of your throat, so all you can do is moan, give him your best pleading look, and let your head fall back as Dean’s fingers finally move inside of you, pushing and playing on the spot until your orgasm washes over you in bright waves of good. So good. Just, fuck, he’s good-

Dean’s thumb pulls out of your mouth with a pop, and he wipes a little bit of spit off on your upper lip before lowering his mouth to yours, this kiss far too soft and gentle for how you think you might die if he doesn’t fuck you now.

“Look so pretty, cumming on my hand.” Dean moves to the shell of your ear, his growling promise sending a shiver up your spine. “Bet you’ll look prettier fucking squeezing my cock.”

You barely have time to whimper when Dean yanks his fingers out of your cunt, rolls you over so you’re straddling his torso, and raises you up by your hips before pushing you right down onto his dick. You don’t even remember when he took off his pants, or where your shirt went, but those are worries for someone who isn’t being split open on Dean’s cock. Who doesn’t have him drawing small circles on their inner thigh, or isn’t being held up by his hand on their waist.

But you do. You have Dean everywhere, real and warm under your hands as you grip his shoulders, bumping deep against your cervix as he lets you adjust to the size of him, one broad finger reaching down to press—light and taunting—on your clit, and groaning as you squeeze around him.

“Shit,” Dean grunts your name, looking up at you under hooded eyes in a way you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you before. As if you’re somewhere they’d always expected to be, and they’re still in awe that you’re there. “Gotta be careful, want this to-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you grind on him experientially, clenching again as he hits that electric spot deep inside you. He grabs you firm by your hips, stilling your every movement as he gives you a stern glower. 

“You need to listen.” His voice is gravely and lower than you’ve ever heard it, and you’d do whatever he told you to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t whine and scratch lightly at his chest. 

“Dean, move-“

“You gonna listen?”

“Yes, just, fuck-“ You gasp as he pulls you up with barely a grunt, slamming your right back down with a roll of your hips. 

“Want you to feel good, baby girl, but you need to be careful,” Dean drags one had down to squeeze your ass, his hand still on your waist drawing light circles around your clit. “Or next time might be more than wrecking.”

Your moan is vulgar and shameless, and you’re more than ready to devote sleep to figuring out what more than wrecking will look like, but right now you just fucking need this. 

“Need more, Dean,” you whisper. “Need it so bad-“

“I know, sweetheart.” He mutters, trailing his hand up your stomach to squeeze your breast, groaning when you squirm around him. “Think you’re ready to ride this cock? Think you can handle, shit-“

You’d stared to move the movement he’d said ride, rolling your body and arching your back, dragging every bit of confidence you have to grind down onto Dean’s cock, your nails sinking into his abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean’s voice is a breath under you, and when you scan over him, he lookslike he’sa little wrecked himself.His eyes on yours are hooded and low, his voice dripping with that same dominating confidence, but something more delicate in the way he’s touching you. Not as if he’s afraid to break you, but afraid you’ll shatter him. 

And you did that. You wrecked Dean. And that lights a wildfire in your gut, running through your nerves until they’re sensitive and bare, and into your brain until it’s all just Dean.

You start to move. Slowly at first to test the waters, but—when Dean just groans and ruts up into you—quickly picking up pace until you’re bouncing on Dean’s cock, your thighs squeezing his torso and your clit rubbing on his abdomen, his ever grunt and hiss and bruising grip just making your need grow bigger as you slam him onto that deep spot-

“Shit, I’m- Slow down-“ 

Dean’s hiss is low, and you immediately obey, changing to long, slow movements as Dean hums. 

“There you go baby, such a good girl.” His hand moves from your ass to your lower back, rubbing soothing patterns as he praises you. “You’re so hot baby, fucking ruined on my cock-“

You make a high, breathless sound you don’t recognize, moving your hips in a circle to try and chase more friction, and Dean chuckles.

“You alright up there-“

“Good,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut to try and focus your all on Dean beneath you. “So good, Dean, feels so good-“

“Need a little more?”

“Yes-“

“More descriptive than that, sweet girl.” He teases, and when this is done, you’re going to kill him. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to-“

“You,” the word falls out without thought, because most of you belongs to Dean. “Just you, only need you-“

“You love me?” Dean’s voice is low, and when you open your eyes to look at him, there’s a small chink in his armor. You don’t know if you pried it open, or if you’ve just never noticed, but you can see right into him, and he still doesn’t really believe that you love him.

And that’s the only thing you’ve ever really know. You loving Dean has been the only truly certain thing in your life, because Dean’s a given and loving him feels like breathing.

So you smile at him, reaching forward to cup his face, and tell him with everything you have, hoping he can hear how the words are in time with your heart.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I’m yours.”

He blinks at you, shaking his head slightly even as his dick twitches inside you. “You don’t need to be, it’s- you know, dirty talk-“

“I know.” You shrug. “I’m still yours.”

Dean’s nostrils flare, and you know you’re not getting control back from him for the rest of the night.

You’re fine with that. Dean starts to rock you back and forth around him, letting you just fall into and around him, and your lost to any world that isn’t Dean. Isn’t his hand splayed on your lower back or his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and ass. Anything that isn’t his cock hitting part of you that you didn’t know existed and filling you up so much you’re not sure how you’re ever going to manage being empty again.

You don’t think you will have to manage. Dean’s holding you like he’s trying to brand himself on your body, like he needs you feel him for the rest of your life. And you will. You’ll feel the bliss Dean’s drawing from your body that’s better than any heaven you could have imagined, rising slowing below the surface, ready to burst at any moment.

You’ll hear him too. Hear every deep noise of his own pleasure, hear the slapping of his skin on yours, hear his low praise echo around your head and ribs for the rest of your life.

“You’re mine, baby girl.” He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest and rolling right into your pussy, making you throw your head back with a breathy whimper. “Fuck, you’re so hot riding me, feel so good around me, tight and warm-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you reach behind your body, your hand finding his balls to squeeze lightly. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart-“ He groans, jerking slightly inside of you. “Fuck, keep doing that, so fucking needy for me, fucking soaking this cock-“

You grind around him, and his pace starts to lose rhythm. Even after he swats your hand away you know he’s lost his own self-control, and fuck he looks hot without it. Starting to rut up into you in uncontrolled movements, pulling you to pieces with a lustful, ardorous gaze and brutal pace and strong hands, moving back to your clit and rolling it between his fingers-

Your mouth falls open in a silent, needy cry of pleasure as your orgasm bursts over you. It’s not sudden, but you couldn’t never anticipated the power of it—like someone had doused you in gasoline that smells like whiskey and fruit, lit a match, and turned to into a star—or how it rides on and on, never seeming to crest or crash as Dean slams home inside of you, warmth coating your pussy and running down your thighs as he moans your name. 

Dean helps you float down to earth, leaving careful, deliberate touches on your skin and humming as his knees rising up to support you. You watch his gaze rakes down your body, lingering on where he can see himself spill out of your pussy, and moves to slowly drag through the mess, gathering some on two fingers before rising them up to your mouth. You open without hesitation and his throat bobs, his cock twitching inside you as you lick his release off his hand, your eyes never leaving his wide, reverent one.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You stole my line.”

“Nah.” He shrugs, tracing a hand over your cheek. “You could have anyone you want, baby, but you’re here, with an asshole like me-“

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Yeah, I am.” He shrugs, like you can’t see how his own words pierce him through that chink. “Shit, I just accused you of sleeping with Sam-“

“And I’ve been lying to you for years.” You lean down, resting your chin on his chest, giving him your widest smile. “Neither of us are saints, Dean. And I happen to be the right kind of fucked up to let possessiveness hot.” You pause, giving him your best stern glare. “To a degree. I will slap you the next time you accuse me of fucking Sam.” 

Dean laughs, his around wrapped—gentle and relaxed—around you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You hum, resting your head to the side, and you might be here for a hundred years. Time blurs and slows until it’s just Dean’s heartbeat near your ear, his thumb tracing a pattern on your arm, and his face buried in your hair. The end of the world might have already come to pass when his hand moves to your chin and he angles your gaze to his, and you wouldn’t really care. You’re still where you need to be.

“Would you,” he lets out a slow breath, all his cocky arrogance gone, his eyes on yours nervous. The hope is back, but it’s wrapped in soft fear. “I’m not good at- shit-“

He’s going to hurt himself, and you take pity on him. You lean does to press a sweet kiss to his mouth, letting your tongue trail over his lips, and rising back up with a small smile.

“Can we go on a date, Dean?” 

He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah. Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Your smile strains at your cheeks, because you only want Dean. 

And you’ll have to write Rowena a thank you note, because you finally have him.

End Note: Me make a story with no prior lore challenge: impossible

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Taglist

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[moonydustx]

I was asked on Ao3 to create a cute and different scenario with Law. I don't think this is even close to being the final version, but I thought it was a little cute and decided to bring it here. Cute, Law tries one of the reader's hobbies and fails, probably poorly crocheted, poorly written and poorly revised

Law x F!Reader requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated

--

All of Law's methodism seemed impossible at that moment, at least it seemed to make the task he intended to do even more difficult. He liked you, it was as clear as any sea you two had ever crossed, but how could it be so difficult to put into words or demonstrate?

Luckily, his way of demonstrating whatever his feelings were and no matter how much they remained hidden for a long time was by demonstrating services, in this case, he was looking to demonstrate that he also cared about your tastes.

The two of you had already spent nights counting coins - and being careful not to mix the repeated ones with the new ones - reading and rereading the stories. Now his objective is to introduce you to something you liked, nothing more fair, right?

However, it seemed impossible. How could it be so difficult to connect those two dots? In fact, the two stitches were huge threads and crochet needles, at least in Law's head they were much bigger than the ones he used in surgery.

The task was being doubly difficult for two specific reasons: one, he had no idea about crochet, even with the magazine he had picked up and all the clothes you had already presented to your colleagues and two; he was using your material and at some point, no matter how much he tried to keep busy, you would suspect he was missing.

After sitting for hours, Law found himself doing something he would never have thought of: giving up. He dropped the needles that were now becoming a big knot on his bed and went out to try to breathe something that wasn't so stressful. He just didn't expect to find the person "responsible" for all this.

"Hey!" His voice came out suddenly, surprising you as you rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. "Everything is fine?"

"Someone hid my things!" your furious voice woke him up, apparently he was about to be discovered and you didn't seem to like the idea of ​​his disappearance. "Can't you help me?"

"So, I…"

"I don't know, maybe teleport my things here? I'm a little stressed and that helps me so much to get my head straight." you interrupted him, letting the flood of words come out, barely realizing that you had interrupted him. "I don't think so, do you? Sorry to bother you with this."

"I know where it is." he snorted, his slumped shoulders indicating that he was giving up. "But, I have a good explanation, I think."

"What do you mean a good explanation?"

He just indicated the way with his head and without even blinking, you decided to follow him. After all, what would your captain have related to crochet and needles?

The first thing you found strange was that he immediately took you towards his room, this being a place rarely visited - and authorized - by the crew of the Polar Tang. Law opened the door and allowed you to go through first. The second thing that surprised you was the tangle of lines that were on his bed. The way Law looked at you indicated everything you needed to know, guilty.

"May I ask why?" the light laugh that escaped your lips eased the tension under Law. "I mean, I never expected that."

"I just wanted to do something nice, after all you always help me with the coins, and the books and…" he limited himself to responding, watching you sit on his bed and start to undo the knots. "I tried, but it ended up becoming a big knot."

"Not a big knot…" you moved the needles and soon the tangled threads became a small stitched thread. "You just left it inverted, you managed to make a little fabric chain."

"All this work for a little chain?"

"Were you doing this for me?" you answered his question with another, leaving him stagnant. It only took a few seconds for Law to just nod. "It looks amazing, captain."

"Was it amazing?" his eyes looked like a puppy's, trying to recognize the praise in your words

"For a beginner, of course! I can even use it like this." you tied the thread sewn onto your wrist, turning it into a bracelet. "If you want, I can teach you how to do it."

"I think I'll let the idea go for a bit." Law's body sweated as he saw you approach, even with a safe distance between your bodies. "But if you want a quiet place to do that, you can come here whenever you need. I mean… I can read and you can stay here, I-I don't know."

"Thank you captain." you smiled and in a burst of courage - mixed with fear of his reaction, you stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I loved the gift and I also loved the proposal, see you later!"

Law watched you leave with his heart almost coming out of his mouth. He still preferred to keep the surgical needle and sutures, however, that little bracelet on your arm symbolized more than any other hobby you two had tried together.

[semidecentpoet]

What gets me ab western mainstream news coverage of the genocide in Palestine—besides the obvious lack of morality—is that it’s, frankly, shit journalism.

(For context, I’m a journalism major with a focus in print reporting. This is literally what I’m going to school for.)

(Forgive me if this is slightly disorganized. Harder to write when I’m pissed.)

My instructors tell me ab the importance of active voice over passive voice all. The. Time. There’s a difference, for example, between “More than 30,000 Palestinians have been killed” and “Israel has killed more than 30,000 Palestinians.”

More recently, I’ve had instructors tell me to be more skeptical of official sources (e.g. police), fact-check their claims and get alternative sources whenever possible.

But, from what I’ve seen, a lot of outlets seem to just take Israel’s word as fact without searching for further evidence. For example, when Israel made that claim—with no real evidence—ab the 40 beheaded babies and it was everywhere. And then they said they can’t confirm shit, and now these outlets have to backpedal.

And of course, on top of the blatant misuse of language (beyond just active vs passive voice) and the false/unsupported reporting, there’s the lack of reporting.

I don’t see western mainstream outlets quoting the assholes who call Palestinians “human animals.”

I don’t see them pointing out the sickening abundance of social media posts of Israelis celebrating the genocide, of IDF posing in front of the rubble of what once was Gaza or with the undergarments of the Palestinian women and girls they raped.

I don’t see them setting their headlines ablaze with the countless historic holy sites Israel has destroyed, mosques and churches alike that were some of the oldest in the world. (But when Notre Dame was on fire—)

I don’t even see the context of the more than 75 years of Israel’s bullshit leading up to now.

Where is the coverage of the entire families Israel have wiped out? Where is the coverage of how Israel treats its hostages? Where is the coverage of the Palestinian people’s injuries, physical and mental, and the reason for the lack of proper medical aid?

Countless children in Gaza have to undergo amputations in unsanitary environments without anesthesia. Where’s the coverage?

Who is asking Biden the important questions? Like, if you’re trying so hard for a ceasefire, why has the United States vetoed United Nations resolutions for an immediate ceasefire three times since Oct. 7? Why a temporary ceasefire instead of a permanent one?

How ab Israel’s attack on Rafah during the Super Bowl?? Rafah the designated safe zone?? While airing a $7 million ad?? During what is arguably the most famous and most-watched sports event in the U.S., which has given billions of dollars in support of Israel’s genocide?? How are these outlets not blowing up????? This is a U.S.-funded slaughter during a national event???? Is this not newsworthy enough for you??????????????

Maybe they include some of these things in their articles. But when and if they do, is it a full-fledged story or just a brief?

Is it toward the top of the page or buried lower? (Journalists typically use the inverted pyramid style, which means the most important information in a story is at the top.)

I understand that, as journalists, we have to be objective. But this is not objective reporting. It is clearly biased in favor of Israel. If it were any other country, any other people under siege, this would all look a lot different.

On the topic of objectivity, I’ve heard a few arguments along the lines of, “We can’t pick a side.” But is there truly more than one side to this crisis?

One instructor of mine has said that “both sides” is a false dichotomy, meaning there are rarely ever exactly two sides to any given issue. Sometimes that means there are more than two sides, and sometimes that means there is really only one.

Coincidently, an example he gave of only one side was the Holocaust in Nazi Germany. Even though there are assholes who say otherwise, it was real. It happened. It was wrong. There’s no other way to look at it.

Ik that journalists bending objectivity and imposing morality in reporting is a relatively recent and controversial debate within the media industry.

But.

If we do some actual goddamn reporting—take the numbers and the quotes and the experiences caught on video and add them all together—we start to paint a pretty clear picture of who is the victim here. And who is responsible for the atrocities.

Just bc our government supports Israel does not mean Israel perspective is on equal footing with, much less more important than, Palestine’s.

When Palestine’s death toll is roughly 30 times that of Israel’s, there’s only one side.

This is some pretty shit journalism.

I’d look forward to hearing from other journalists/student journalists what they think ab coverage of the genocide.

Personally, I’m a little heartbroken that some of these outlets I’ve looked up to and dreamed ab being a part of someday have been so lacking in their coverage—to say the least. Especially since journalism is so important and is supposed to be a major means of holding people in power accountable for their actions.

Life’s bitter irony, I suppose.

Free Palestine.

[smehur]

Drarry fic recs #6

[podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry written by @lettersbyelise and read by @timothysboxers

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

A delightful fic and a phenomenal reading! There are few things I love more than ex-rivals Harry and Draco discovering they actually enjoy each other's company, especially when it's done with such humor. The game of kill, fuck, marry was hilarious, and so was the dancing. And Draco's final birthday wish, well. 🔥 A phrase seen in many stories but rarely delivered with quite that much cheek. I'm all smiles and biting lips just thinking about it. 10/10 would read/listen again.

ready, able by @garagepaperback

“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Harry keeps every muscle on his face particularly still, hoping it looks to Malfoy as absolutely blank as it feels to him. Half a minute passes. “No,” Malfoy, already doing a poor job of sitting normally on his chair, bends in half, nearly falling out of it. He’s laughing. “No, Potter, no. No- don’t- you’re twenty-five years old!” “And?” Harry asks, heat staining his face. - Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.

Apart from being captivating, tantalizing and touching, this story is also an interesting (and, for this reader, unique) take on the fuck-or-die trope, which I'll generally read "for fun" but will only take "seriously" if it's somehow challenged and reshaped till choice reasserts itself. Like in this fic! Which, on top of everything, (spoiler alert!) ends with one of the hottest sex scenes in my HP reading so far. Truly exquisite. 👌

Savage by @marguerite26

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Another instance where excellent fic managed to sell me a trope I'm not a fan of: werewolves! It's a phenomenal story, with an interesting, political plot, excellent pacing, flawless characterization and steaming hot sex. What more could one hope for?

Virtuous by @heyjude19-writing

Draco is only sin inverted.

I loved this short piece down to the last word. It's so multifaceted! At face value, it's a confession of an unredeemed Draco, but is he? Is he really? Or did "fake it till you make it" work a little better than he expected? I'm fascinated by this because it touches on the question of whether a person can really change, which is, obviously, central to Drarry. Does a selfish motivation behind an act of kindness make the act less kind? I don't know the answers. But I do so enjoy fic that asks the questions!

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

This story is very old and predates the canon ending of the series (thus missing out on a lot of canon Drarry content that would've made it even better). It's also a bit old-fashioned, compared to the fic I mostly read these days, and it triggered some of my technical pet peeves. Yet it hooked me within the first few paragraphs, and I grew to love it with a slow-burn passion. Draco's sudden disability is depicted in a very straight-forward, matter-of-fact, incredibly effective yet sensitive way; and his manner of coping with it is perfectly in character. Meanwhile, Harry is blind in his own way, which helps build the tension but never crosses the line of being too contrived. I had so many feels reading this. It's just beautiful, warts and all.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to the authors of these, and all other lovely stories shared within this amazing fandom, and to the readers helping spread the word. 🥰

[fanatical4creation]

INVERTED!Poppy!!!

Finally made her up, I was just putting it off and putting off designing her but then I took my pen, my new laptop and drew it, now look at her!!!

Alright let's start shall we?

Design:

"OMG FANATICAL WHY DOES POPPY LOOKS LIKE A FRISK-" Shhhhh, you need to calm down, i'll explain everything;

Alright, bare with me: The original Poppy mentions in an animation, that she's talking to her therapist, that people usually thinks she's a Chara, but she's none! And I think, I theorize, I suppose that the reason why she looks like a Chara is bc an Frisk was drawing her (you know her lore?), so supposing that the whole concept of Invertedverse is that the original universe Underswap, that Frisk who drew her is an Chara, so if the Frisk drew a Chara in the original, here the Frisk that is now a Chara would draw a Frisk....... so, that's the logic here.;

Even though Poppy is still not a Frisk nor a Chara, but I don't think I translated that into her design, maybe I'll redo it sometime.

Her clothings are intriguing. It's her original teenage/adult clothings but with some green and a purple cloak or cape, whatever that is. This cloak represents her importance inside OmegaTimeline, that reminds me;

View from back Ω:

Made it with wind because it's cool, plus, her silhouette is cool too

Story:

Core was the "ruler" of Omega Timeline, everyone would look for them when there was a problem and needed help, everybody trusted them, but they put Poppy on their place... Core is a very mischievous character, no one really knows why they put Poppy in charge.

Omega citizens theorize that the reason is because Core was lazy, or that they didn't like the attention, or maybe they wanted to focus fully on recruting people, even thought after Poppy got in charge Core was rarely seen interacting with people and also the numbers of new survivors to get to the OT decreased.

Poppy tries her best to help remain peace within Omega Timeline, even if it requires all of her energies, thought she could really use some help, she thinks that the reason why her parent is more absent while she was in charge was because they knew she could everything alone, and that she should do it.

She doesn't have many friends, and the old ones got far away because she's too busy working signing papers, solving problems, financing projects, etc, etc.

Character:

She suffers. That's the truth, she just needs a vacation and a hug from her girlfriend.

She doesn't like parties... just thought it was important to mention.

Poppy doesn't like her parent, almost hates them even, they seem so irresponsible, imature and a coward, after just letting their daughter in charge of a (practically) country in surprise, it's expected for her to feel that way

Poppy has to be the clueless character in the whole Invertedverse, the reason is that she's so busy at work, or too busy being tired, and she usually gets information on what's going on from Core, but Core have been very silent lately, wonder why...

She has the hobby of playing board games, dancing and origamis!

She likes to cook more for others than herself

Sometimes she would visit the Madame T's orphanage, mainly to see Cadence and her friends, but also to donate and all of that things famous ppl do in orphanages idk.

Even thought she does a lot of hard work sometimes she'd take credit over someone elses work unintentionally, i mean, she's kind of the president.

She can't lie, like literally, maybe it's just her morals, or maybe it's a supernatural force idk.

She also keeps taping her fingers in hard surfaces all the time, I think it's anxiety.

Oh yeah, her full name is still Poppy Marusina, but she can also be called Iris Marusina, or maybe I'll change that to her original name, idk

Poppy (c) fmsdraws

[dykedvonte]

Silly ask incoming: what video games would the crew enjoy, in your opinion? Especialy, multiplayer games they can play together on their rare breaks? I think Anya eats everyone up in mario cart (she is picking princess peach probably)

-💀

Okay so I know everyone always tries to do cop out answers with saying "They wouldn't play video games yadda yadda" but I'm giving everyone something:

Curly

I think he likes those mindless sort of games. Not like easy but ones where they are a bit methodical.

Likes games with options but also set rules/restrictions. Endless creativity would overwhelm him and make him frustrated as he wouldn't know what to do and when

Honestly? Sims, minecraft, stardew, terria, games where there's options but at the end its like an inverted funnel. Start the same each time but you make it what you want in the end.

I also think he'd love VR type games like Super Hot and Beat saber just for the physicalness and kinda not having to be in reality.

Not into multiplayer too much mainly cause he's actually not that competitive but because he always drags out matches by being the worst

Will happily join a server or world in the games he does play even if it gets abandoned. He's the type to log on for notalgia

Daisuke

We know he's a gamer already. QnA said he likes to go to the arcade and waste time losing.

Also has his little handheld so I think he's into retro games, no specific type just likes how creative they are for how simple they tend to look

Def likes management games. I see him as being into figuring out pro strats and gamer shit like that.

Pikmin, Katamari, Resident Evil, Crash Bandicoot, Spyro, etc... He likes the older stuff with a challenge, but proponent in wanting games to be mean to you again.

Gamer rage but in a sulky way like he misses a jump and just turns off the entire TV

A Mario Party instead of Mario Kart guy. Like the random chance of it all and to get aggressive and hype over like line tracing the mini game

Anya

And if I said Anya is like a strict multiplayer competitive like COD lobby girl then what?

Honestly I think she likes games with a lot of story and depth but has guilty pleasures in FPS and competitive games.

Like those RPG maker games a lot Mermaids Swamp, The Crooked Man, Ai Oni. Not for the horror, its a bit cliche but often time its the real people monsters or tragedy that captivates her.

Me thinks she's the type to scroll like Itchio or Game Jolt and plays whatever's free and looks interesting, gamer in the way she's just played games.

Ofc she's competitive, likes any game where she can show off or win, so she's always upset during chance games. Sorry girl, Daisuke won the draw no mario kart for you

Though I think her favorite would be like fighting games just to have subtle shit talk like "Are you sure you're not just button mashing?" Tekken Girlie

Swansea

This was hard cause like I genuinely think he wouldn't care about games and just plays them in the way like parents beat levels for their kids.

Platformers. Idk why but I think its just like its good hand eye coordination, keeps him feeling spry mentally.

Rhythm games honestly but in the sense of like how like piano tiles is a rhythm game.

He's like basic older man who plays like bejweled, solitaire, maybe even penguin diner.

I know this is almost a cop out but like I can't imagine him like being into gaming even if he was young, like I think he'd like card games, jacks and dice.

Honestly he plays online dominos vs the computer online and complains to his family or the crew (depends on where he is) about it cheating whenever he loses.

Jimmy

For real he's harder than Swansea's cause man doesn't even have hobbies like I don't know what he would actually like and it scares me

I think he's somewhat elitist with his gaming views because he just always thinks he's write but I know he plays everything the bad way

Honestly I think he likes games like Borderlands for the humor and the like fantasy power. Like Handsome Jack's humor a bit too much

Played Halo and Cod but either is so mid it's just not enjoyable enough for him to continue. Like he needs the instant gratification from gaming or he's not playing it anymore

Maybe GTA but again he annoys too many people and gets banned from servers and doesn't care about story mode.

LIkes the sims but in the fucked up girl way where he makes all the sims like live in his basement and paint for him while he get mad over storylines he made up.

I like think they all play monopoly like my family where it takes days because we treat it like real investments and alliances are formed and relationships ruined.

[buckysdolls]

One Night

Damian Priest One Shot

TW: Swearing, mentions of the female anatomy (lol)

Summary: Six months on from a stale and toxic relationship Y/N is living her best life. One night and one person in particular takes Y/N by surprise.

AN: Thanks to @thealliasylum for giving me to prompt: “I’ve tried to forgive you… I really have. But I’ll never forgive you for what you did. I hate you!” It was much appreciated!

It was your favourite day of the week, the day where all you had to do was chill out, go to the gym, grab coffee and catch up on all the binge worthy tv programmes. You, Rhea, Bianca and Liv planned to spend the day together doing all those things you enjoyed doing on your rare day off. 

“What number does that take him up too?” Bianca wiggled her eyebrows at you curiously after looking over your shoulder at your phone as you stood at the counter waiting for your coffee. 

“Too many…” Your response was abrupt, not in a harsh way to Bianca more in annoyance at your ex, Waller who had rang you for the fifth time today and it was only 10am. You smiled politely at the barista who handed you your coffee before thanking her and walking over to the table where Rhea and Liv were sitting. Liv noticed the annoyed expression on your face as you sat down, it was like she could sense your whole body had tensed up.

“Waller?”

“How did you know?” You sighed heavily

“We’ve become accustomed to the “Grayson Waller look” on your face” Liv used inverted commas as she spoke.

“How long has it been now?” Rhea asked in a tone of voice that suggested it was probably time for Waller to move on.

“Six months… six.. long… months. Six months of me not actually giving a shit anymore.” You breathed deeply in an attempt to remain calm. 

You wouldn't say Waller was the love of your life, he just happened to be the one you spent two years on and off with and this time after finding out about his affair with Tiffany you were finally cutting all ties. Except he wasn’t ready to cut ties. In the six months you’d spent apart everyone always wanted to point out to you how much happier you seemed having dropped him, and they were right, you were happier. You thought usually after ending it with someone you were meant to feel all depressed and shit but you felt free and like a whole weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You’d been able to do so much you weren’t able to do with Waller, like wrestle with other males on the roster, purely to improve. He had hated you practising with the likes of Gable and Ziggler, technically sound wrestlers who could easily help you progress, instead you had to train with him or females. You were able to annoy the girls by talking about how much you fancied Priest, how much you wanted him to fuck you and how the gruff in his deep voice made you heart flutter like a billion buzzing butterflies. Although the girls didn't find it annoying, they found it bearable… but happily bearable because they were happy to see you happy. They were overjoyed to see you so full of life, it was refreshing to see you act that way compared to the miserable and downright depressing fake act of making yourself appear happy. 

“Get in my story please” You ushered the girls with a wave of your hand to move into the frame of your camera, the four of you smiled, throwing up peace signs. Just as you took a second photo his name popped up, ringing you again. You heard the mumbles and saw the eyerolls from the girls

“I’m just going to step outside, won't be long” You pushed your chair back ready to stand up and answer the call.

“You're really going to answer?” Liv asked.

“If I don’t he won't stop, and then I won't have an enjoyable day.” You smiled sarcastically.

“Fairs” Was all you heard Liv say before walking outside the coffee shop and standing on the street.

“What?”

“ Oh, good morning Grayson, How are you? I’m fine thanks Y/N. How are you?” Waller responded to your ‘what’ in his usually dickish attitude.

“Go fuck yourself.” You simply replied, if only he could see the smile on your face when you said it to realise how much of a shit you did not give.

“Charming as always. Look we need to talk about things”

“What the hell would I want to talk about with you?” Your attention was swiftly captured by the bellows of familiar laughter making its way down the street towards you, it was Priest, Ford, Balor and Ziggler. Priest instantly saw you and bestowed upon you his undeniably beautiful goofy smile and though you wanted to smile... you couldn't. With no response from you he could only sense the tension you were omitting which he did not like. Each one of the guys gave you a high five as they entered the coffee shop except Priest who stood outside with you, slinging an arm over your shoulder, he brought you into him which you obliged by giving him a hug. He didn’t want to be too forward with you like he usually would be with someone who he’s waited around for because he knew that you’d just gotten out of rocky waters with Waller and he didn’t want to mess up any changes that he had with you. For him... he finally thought he’d found who he was meant to be with, around you he could be goofy which you would entertain by laughing. He could be sarcastic, which you would give back to him ten times worse. You were perfect to him, that’s why it was essential to play his cards right.

“Who is it?” he mouthed down to you, causing you to widen your eyes and mouth “Waller.” You felt his chest rise heavily as if he himself was frustrated with Waller, which he was. 

“Want me to speak to him?” Priest this time didn’t mouth, he spoke clear as day as if he wanted Waller to hear his voice. He stood there, hand out willing to accept the phone. You quickly and thankfully smiled but shook your head to decline. 

“Is that Priest?” Waller asked you as if challenging your decision on who you hung out with.

“Okay Waller, goodb-”

“No wait! You have to forgive me!” Waller interrupted you.

““I’ve tried to forgive you… I really have. But I’ll never forgive you for what you did. Waller, I pretty much hate you!” Hanging up on him, you looked up at Priest who was nodding his head as if to praise you.

“Strong finish” He praised you, doing the ‘okay’ emoji with his hands. 

The evening had rolled around quickly, and it was decided that some of the guys as well as the gals would chill at your apartment so you could all head down to the performance centre to train together tomorrow. That night had been filled with a delicious group dinner cooked by Bianca and Ford and an instagram live… which had a lot of fans questioning your’s and Priest chemistry. Whenever it came up you always blew it off by just saying how good friends you and Priest were, usually just calling him yout bodyguard. He would fold his arms and puff out his chest in front of you generating laughs from everyone showing he was happy to play along with your excuse for the obvious chemistry. The night was finished by watching a movie, Priest obviously sat next to you and you were happy to rest your head on his shoulder whilst watching the film, as his hand settled on your thigh. 

In dribs and drabs people headed off for the night leaving a sleeping you who had slid all the way down that your head was now resting on Damian’s chest with one leg slung over him. You began to fall asleep the moment he started lightly brushing his fingers up and down your arm, it was instantly soothing and calming. He was comfortable in letting you sleep on him and soaked in the pleasure it gave him to hug you whilst you slept. Damian and Finn were the sole survivors of finishing the film and once Balor had stood up Priest asked him to pass him a blanket to which Balor rolled one up into a ball launching it at him. 

“Cheers bro, sleep easy yeah?” Priest laid the blanket out on you which stirred you, lifting your leg up higher on him. It took every inch of Priest’s inner rockstar lifestyle to not explore your body with his hands as you pressed up against him, something you would happily let the man do to you all day, every day. You knew exactly what you were doing the moment you closed your eyes and the first time you put your leg over him. Each movement you made you put more pressure behind it pushing up against Damian so he could feel your breasts against him. He wanted it so badly but he wanted to do this the right way, not bang first then work on it. He wanted you to know you were worth every date, every compliment, every touch he gave you.

“Will do my friend, I'm sure you will too.” Balor smirked, gesturing his head to you, unbeknownst to them that you were wide awake underneath your shut eyes.

“Very funny” Priest sniggered, giving Balor the middle finger as banter.

“What! I’m serious! Enjoy having Y/N stretched out all over you yeah.” Balor emphasised the latter part of his sentence by elongating words.

“I am enjoying it. Doesn’t mean I have to do anything about it right now. She’s peaceful and as tempting as she is, I'm trying to do this the right way man.”

This conversation was about to get too Juicy for you to tell them you were awake...

Balor walked past Priest on the sofa and squeezed his shoulder as an act of reassurance which Priest gently tapped as a gesture of gratitude. Balor stopped by the sink to grab a glass of water before speaking up again.

“She’s a good gal and after everything... you two deserve each other. You look good together” Balor chugged on his water.

“Man, I’m fucking crazy for her. I just can’t rush it with her after Waller.”

The heat rose to your cheeks when you heard his words. You felt awful for being sneaky and listening to their conversation whilst sleeping but it just confirmed everything you wanted to know. 

“You’re doing the right thing. Stick with it.”

“I will do, night bro” Balor waved his hand from his forehead as if to salute goodbye. Priest himself adjusted his position so he was now laid flat on the sofa with both his arms wrapped around you and you were cuddled into him so both of you could squeeze onto the sofa. Closing his eyes, he gingerly pressed his lips onto your forehead.

“Crazy about me huh?” You spoke up faintly, biting your lip nervously wondering did you just do the right thing by speaking up? Priest swore he could feel the sweat pulsating in his pores, ready to break free as he heard those words leave your lips. Priest debated what to say, but the longer he thought about it the longer he was leaving your words hanging.

“How much of that conversation did you hear?”

“All of it.” You exhaled anxiously due to the really long previous silence. You were still wrapped up in Priest’s arms so your choice to speak up couldn't have been too bad right?

“Well fuck me” Priest whispered into you ear.

“I’d love to…” You whispered back to Priest into his ear, a small smug smile creeping onto your lips

“Not in that way” Priest laughed at your comment.

“I know, I’m just teasing.” Priest released one of his arms from you so he could shuffle himself to meet your eye level, you put your leg back over him as his free hand glided up the curves of your side then your chest until it finally settled on your cheek, his fingertips intertwined in the strands of your hair.

“It’s not polite to tease you know” you watched his lips move as he spoke, he had you hanging on to his every word as his husky voice had you internally moaning. You noticed his eyes had settled upon your lips as your gently ran your bottom lip though your teeth. A deep breath from him had you trying to push yourself up against him even more.

“No its not… but it is fun” Your smile grew bigger as did his. 

“I need to do this the right way…” Priest voice was still quiet.

“I appreciate it” You also spoke quietly and calmly. 

“So yeah, I’m crazy about you. And if I could take you on this sofa right here and now I fucking would, but I respect you way too much and I genuinely think you are it for me. I can’t fuck it up.”

“Thank you.” You placed your lips on Priest’s, instigating a kiss. A kiss that made you feel so cliche for thinking it but it felt like not just fireworks but cannons and bombs exploding.

That night was the happiest night of your life in the past two years.  

[cinnamonglaive]

worm bingo: SKITTER!!!

Ok so! I'm going to preface this with the fact that I'm an entomologist. Bugs bugs bugs, all the time. I'm not specifically an insect/invert neurologist but one of my colleagues is so I like to think I know a thing or two.

My theory is that when Taylor triggered it impacted her nervous system and brain in a similar way that Rachel's did. Rachel's humanity was partially overwritten with dog-centric thinking, Taylor's humanity was partially overwritten with invertebrate-centric thinking. Insects are wired to follow a very singular path to complete their job/mission, and their responses are limited as far as reactions to stimuli. There are some character attributes Taylor has that are shrugged off or otherwise interpreted by canon that I think are actually symptoms of neural re-mapping.

Taylor's high pain tolerance is one example. Pain, in simple terms, is a damage report attached to emotion. Damage is sensed by neurons, which pass the info up to our brains where we relate it to fear, stress, sadness, etc.. Insects don't feel pain because they lack sufficient neurons to have emotions. They sense damage and that's all it is, information. Insects are simpler computers than humans. When Taylor gets damaged (or dishes it out), she often processes damage in the same way: as a calm informational report. This could just be WB's narrational style, or Taylor's pre-trigger disposition, but I think it's telling that other characters, capes who see active combat, are routinely skeeved out by Taylor's lack of response to damage. Grace and Scapegoat come to mind, chiefly, though there's a few "JFC" moments from Charlotte and Sierra as well.

The other main way I see her as de-humanized is her difficulty in relating with other humans, exemplified most obviously in her relationship with Brian. She's 15 and has reciprocated feelings from her crush! They kiss, cuddle, fade to black... and the next day she remarks that it was 'nice' and gets on with her work. When I was her age if I had a similar experience I would have been thinking about it every other thought! I even had a rule in high school that I could only look at my crush twice a day, so she wouldn't notice (common me L) and it was a rule I had to remind myself of regularly. In contrast, Taylor only rarely thinks of Brian, she rarely describes other characters as attractive with any kind of heat behind it, and she certainly doesn't prioritize him (or any of her friends, really), over her self-imposed Mission.

This could potentially be attributed to the fact that the amateur sex was bad, or WB didn't want to write very much sexual content in his story about minors, but it just came off as Taylor not being very interested in her boyfriend. And THAT opens up a dialogue about 'is Taylor Hebert gay' (thread locked by a moderator after 12239 pages of heated debate) but really I just think she has a bit of insect neural programming. Information is recorded, sex is had, but the depth of the emotional experience is reduced.

And finally I want to know why she left the back of her mask undone, letting her characteristic mane of black hair flow out behind her. Why in the hell would 'miss practical' not shore that up when she noted it as a weak spot several times. My other issue: the rag skirt she made (during the end of Monarch, I believe?) that I imagine was ugly as hell and bad for movement during battle. What are we doing.

[doodledoesthing3]

CHAPTER 3 IS FINALLY HERE🗣️🗣️🗣️

Finished reading the new chapter? Lucky for you, I got some treats for ya!

CHARACTER SHEETS FOR THE NEW CHARACTERS AND CATNAP‼️‼️‼️

CatNap, the used to be sleepy critter. He’s now a leader of new group, the Sun Screamers! He may not look like leadership material but he learned from, what he claims to be, the best leader that he knows.

Meet Harper Barker! Sassy, rude, and serious is how most critters describe her. She’s the Captain of the Ratto Mafia Guards and takes her job very seriously. She refuses to rest until she catches CatNap. She reeks of bleach due to her fur being dyed so much, what’s her real fur color? No one knows but her girlfriend does!

Fun Fact: I inverted one of the Smiling Critters and gave them to Harper. Can you guess who’s inverted color palette I gave her?

Crashing through your door is Topaz! He’ll cheer you up no matter what! This Spiny Mouse always gets himself hurt in the weirdest ways possible, but that doesn’t stop him. Luckily he has his friends to patch him up!

Fun Fact: Topaz was one of the first Sun Screamers that I designed, that’s why his color palette is a bit more unique than the others.

Cold and Serious…. Calico! Some say he lost his eye to a monster, some say that Tony ripped out his eye, but CatNap thinks that he’s just a big softy inside. This orange and white fawn variegated rat will protect his friends no matter the cost.

Fun fact: Calico was going to be named Patches (kinda like a pirate) but I changed my mind and gave the name Patches to the stoner rat at the beginning of Chapter 3!

The Sun Screamers’ number one fashion designer, Diamond! She’s makes new accessories for her friends as her way of bonding with them. This white dumbo rat is known for her huge ears, she’s always wearing different earrings everyday. She cares for her friends deeply and will drop her nice girl act to throw hands with whoever hurts her friends.

Fun Fact: I imagined Diamond with comically large ears at first, but I wasn’t able to draw them so we got somewhat big ears Diamond! She also used to wear so many earrings but I didn’t know how to draw them so any kind of earrings on Diamond is perfectly okay with me.

This scene mouse is Lucy! This Australien long coated mouse is the most shyest girl you’ll ever met. CatNap and the rest of their friends have tried to get her out of shell, but it usually never works. It’s rare to see her yell or be angry in general.

Fun Fact: Lucy was going to be emo, but I changed her to be a scene girl because it fits with the times! (the fanfic takes place in 2005)

Yuck, what’s burning? It’s Ash making a new invention! This cotton mouse tends to have a short temper whenever things don’t go his way. Sometimes his inventions work and sometimes they don’t, he tends to have backup plans upon backup plans for everything.

Fun Fact: When I was designing Ash, he went through so many phases! First, he was brown girl mouse named Goggles. Then he got changed to a boy and his name was changed to Ash. Then he was light grey before I settled on dark grey.

What’s that growing from that ground? It’s everyone’s number one spooky boy, Fungus! He’s one of the oldest children among his many siblings. This brown satin rat is normally busy talking to his dead siblings or learning a new spell, but you’ll see him around the valley’s graveyard most of the time.

Fun Fact: Fungus’ book was going to have a pentagram on it instead but I thought it was an overused idea so I replaced it for the eyes!

Yeesh! I thought we were done, but what’s that bright light? Is it god? No you sillies! It’s one of the angels known Cat-Bee! Always ready to help her friends at the ready, but don’t let her carefree nature fool you! She’ll get protective of her friends if she senses danger. Nonetheless, she’s one of the people that helps keep CatNap sane.

Fun Fact: She was originally going to be disguised as a capybara instead of Ash with another toy angel disguised as a capybara beside her. But I thought that was too many characters for one chapter so you’ll see that other angel in a later chapter.

If you’re up for a puzzle based on this fanfic then check out this puzzle that I made! (Light mode is highly recommended.)

If you’re stuck, there’s a hint in this chapter that can help you complete the puzzle! :)

SEE YA IN CHAPTER 4!

[canadachildvol2]

Wish rewrite ✨ Asha and Star TV Tropes

A fun and lowkey embarrassing fact about me is I'll sometimes conjure up TV Tropes sections for characters I create. And it just so happens that Asha and Star in my "Wish" rewrite are no exceptions.

Is there a point to this? Not really. Just thought it would be a fun idea 😊 Hope you get a kick out of it as well!

(I may update this from time to time if I think of other tropes to add)

@annymation @signed-sapphire @chillwildwave

Asha

Almost Kiss: With Star after the “At All Costs” sequence.

Badass Normal: She’s a regular human with no magical powers, but she holds her own against Magnifico’s attacks for a while. And let’s not forget that she once snuck into the castle without help from anyone.

Battle Couple: Becomes this with Star during the climax, where she’s trying to get the staff from Magnifico and he’s trying to get the journal from Amaya.

Big “NO!”: Shouts this when she saves Star by blocking the king and queen’s absorption spell with a large piece of mirror, thereby deflecting it to them and sucking the couple into Magnifico’s staff.

Big Damn Heroes: Saves a weakened Star from being absorbed into Magnifico’s staff by jumping in front of him and deflecting the spell with a piece of mirror.

Brooding Boy, Gentle Girl: Inverted. She's the Brooding Girl to Star’s Gentle Boy

Brutal Honesty: She speaks her mind and rarely - if ever - sugarcoats the facts.

Character Development: Starts out as a girl who doesn’t feel hope and focuses on realistic outcomes. Throughout the story, she becomes more hopeful and less cynical, all while still maintaining her levelheadedness.

Character Tic: Fiddles with her bracelet whenever her dad is mentioned or she thinks of him, and whenever she’s torn on what to do (as alluded to in “This Wish,” whether she should listen to her head or her heart).

Childhood Friends: She and Dahlia have been friends since they were kids.

Deadpan Snarker: She has her fair share of sarcastic remarks.

Defrosting Ice Queen: Star’s optimistic influence on her and Rosas, as well as helping the people pursue their wishes themselves, is what gradually pulls her out of her no-nonsense shell.

Determinator: She refuses to give up on her mission to expose the royals’ wrongdoings. She’s quite a stubborn individual in her everyday life, too.

Dream Reality Check: Shortly after she first sees Star, she thinks she's dreaming and pinches herself to wake up. It doesn't work.

Establishing Character Moment: A subtle example. Before “Welcome to Rosas,” she’s prepping for her latest tour group and we hear her mumble “One… two… three” in a tone akin to someone saying “Let’s get this over with.” Then she steps out to greet the newcomers with an exaggerated smile on her face.

Expository Hairstyle Change: In contrast to the semi-braided, more pulled back look she has throughout most of the story, her subsequent hairstyles once the conflict is resolved are comparatively looser.

Heroic BSoD: Goes through a brief one after learning that most of Rosas (including her best friend, Dahlia) seemed to fully believe that she destroyed the wishes.

Heroic Sacrifice: Attempts this during the climax where she’s willing to die at the hands of Magnifico’s magic rather than tell him where Star is. Ultimately averted when Star ends up saving her.

Hidden Depths: She's a very talented dancer. However, because of her reserved nature, she holds back on fully showing it. We do get hints of it during “Welcome to Rosas” and the “Montage” song, but it isn't until the tavern party scene that these skills are wholly shown.

Hope Is Scary: Not so much "scary," more so "pointless." After being let down again and again throughout her life, she resigned herself to never feeling hope again in order to avoid the pain of being disappointed. As she says to Star, "...by expecting and accepting the worst, it hurts less when the inevitable happens.”

“I Want” Song: “This Wish,” where she sings about wanting a better life for Rosas and expressing her internal struggle of letting herself feel some semblance of hope for the first time in a long time.

I Will Wait for You: She can only see Star for one week-long visit each month from now on.

Interspecies Romance: Asha (a human) and Star (a celestial star being).

Like Brother and Sister: Has this dynamic with Dario.

Longing Look: Not as many as Star to her, but she does sneak a few looks at him.

Meaningful Name: Her name means "hope", "wish", and "desire" in Hindi, serving as an interesting contrast to her (initial) personality while also reflecting her character arc of regaining her sense of hope. Moreover, it reflects her desire for the people of Rosas to have a better life.

My God, What Have I Done?: Has this reaction after accidentally hurting her grandfather’s feelings about his wish realistically having a low chance of being granted.

Native Guide: She works as a tour guide of sorts, helping new residents acclimate to Rosas and teaching them about the kingdom’s customs, traditions, and history. She’s not a fan of the job, but it “pays well.”

Nice Girl: Bluntness and slightly cynical tendencies aside, she’s a compassionate and trustworthy person at her core.

Official Couple: With Star.

Opposites Attract: The reserved, no-nonsense, and slightly cynical Asha falls for the upbeat and extroverted Star.

Rule of Symbolism: Her being the only one in Rosas wearing orange (i.e. a colour that’s not in the kingdom’s general colour palette) symbolizes her being the only one disillusioned with Magnifico. Following her discovery of his treachery, it becomes symbolic of her being the only one against him.

Single Woman Seeks Good Man: Starts developing feelings for Star while the pair help the people of Rosas make their wishes come true.

Took a Level in Idealism: Her main character arc is regaining her sense of hope.

Tragic Keepsake: Her silver bracelet. It was the last birthday gift from her dad before his death.

What the Hell, Hero?: During a heated exchange where she tries to tell her mom and grandfather about the royals’ evil actions, she accidentally hurts Sabino’s feelings by saying that his wish has a very low chance of being granted.

Youthful Freckles: She’s 17 years old and has freckles on her cheeks and nose.

Star

Adorkable: Cheerful, friendly, and energetic, on top of being easily distracted by new things and a little clumsy.

All-Loving Hero: One of his defining traits is how kind he is to everyone he meets. While his need to help people is mainly out of a desire to advance into a proper wishing star, he also genuinely wants to aid Rosas’ residents in making their wishes come true and stopping the royals’ wrongdoings.

Almost Kiss: With Asha after the “At All Costs” sequence.

Anguished Declaration of Love: A non-verbal example. When he’s weak and at risk of being absorbed into Magnifico’s staff, he uses what little magic he can muster to create a heart out of star dust for Asha.

Attention Deficit... Ooh, Shiny!: He's easily distracted early on by a lot of things: people, food, everyday objects, etc. Justified in that this is his first time interacting with humans. He mellows out as the story goes on.

Badass Adorable: He’s a cheerful and incredibly friendly individual with magic powers. The ‘badass’ part is shown when he has to outrun and fend off castle guards and Amaya, as well as fighting against the royal couple in the climax.

Badass in Distress: At some point during the climax, he's rendered incredibly weak and at risk of being absorbed into Magnifico's staff. Asha saves him from this fate at the last second.

Battle Couple: Becomes this with Asha during the climax, where she’s trying to get the staff from Magnifico and he’s trying to get the journal from Amaya.

Beware the Nice Ones: If you want to stay on his good side, DO NOT hurt or even try to hurt someone he loves. His magic may not be equipped to cause harm, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to use it that way if you piss him off.

Big Damn Heroes: Saves Asha from another torturous magical blast from Magnifico’s staff.

Brooding Boy, Gentle Girl: Inverted. He’s the Gentle Boy to Asha’s Brooding Girl.

But Now I Must Go: He has to return to the sky once Asha’s wish has come true (i.e. the royals are defeated and she feels hope once again). He is able to come back to Rosas for short once-a-month visits though.

Character Development: Over the course of the story, his energized and easily distracted nature is dialled back to the point where he is comparatively more focused and composed by the end. That said, he’s still upbeat.

Cute Mute: With the exception of the “At All Costs” sequence, he does not talk at all. He only communicates through body language and images created with his star dust.

Determinator: He’ll stop at nothing to make Asha’s wish come true so that he can advance to a proper wishing star.

Disappointed in You: When he realizes Simon was the one who ratted out Asha to the king and queen, he gives him a disappointed glare.

Disney Death: On the brink of one after having been subjected to various attacks via Magnifico’s magic staff. By the time the villains are defeated, he’s dimly lit and too weak to move. His light eventually goes out and he would’ve been done for had Asha not verbalized that she has hope again and that brings him back, signifying that he was successful in fully making her wish come true and that he can advance into a proper wishing star.

A Dog Named "Dog": A star named Star. Averted with his human disguise, where he is given the name Orion by Asha.

Eye Colour Change: In his human disguise, his eyes go from his usual golden brown to green.

Friend to All Living Things: Kind to everyone he meets and animals are drawn to him.

Interspecies Romance: Star (a celestial star being) and Asha (a human).

The Klutz: Shows shades of this, particularly during his introduction and when he first enters Rosas and is distracted by various things.

Kubrick Stare: Gives one to Magnifico and Amaya after saving Asha from their magical torture. It’s especially alarming since, up until now, he’s never shown to be THIS angry.

Longing Look: Several times at Asha. He doesn’t even try to hide them. The most notable one being while Asha is laughing loudly during the tavern party.

Nice Guy: He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. Even after learning that Simon betrayed Asha, he still helps him escape the dungeon despite his disappointment in the young man.

No Name Given: Unless in his human disguise, which is named "Orion," he is referred to as "Star." It's conceivable he has an actual name back at his celestial home in the sky. For what it's worth, he doesn't seem to mind Asha calling him "Star."

No Sense of Personal Space: Early on, mostly because he's so fueled by his curiousity of humans and their way of life. He gets better.

Official Couple: With Asha.

Opposites Attract: The upbeat and extroverted Star falls for the reserved, no-nonsense, and slightly cynical Asha.

Power Glows: He’s constantly glowing when in his magical form. Specifically his hair, the oval on his chest, the stars emitting from the inner part of his cape, and the dots on his cheeks; the latter of which glow VERY bright when he’s happy. Additionally, in lieu of blushing, his cheeks glow.

Secret Identity: He disguises himself as a human - who Asha hastily named “Orion” - when interacting with other people to hide his magical self. At the end of the story, he reveals his true self to Rosas.

Showing Off Your Powers: Displays what his magic is capable of to Asha in his introductory scene. This includes making objects - mainly plants - grow, changing the colours of flowers and other things he sees, and shape-shifting. He also does this during "At All Costs," such as allowing her to dance with him on the water and then later in the sky, and decorating her dress with star dust.

Undying Loyalty: His goal is help Asha make her wish come true. As such, he rarely leaves her side and is devoted to her. This extends to after the conflict of the story is resolved and he makes it a point to continue to see her even if it's only short once-a-month visits.

Voluntary Shapeshifting: One of his powers is being able to change his form at will.

Wide-Eyed Idealist: He’s optimistic about the future and sees the best in people.

Youthful Freckles: In his human disguise, he has freckles scattered on his face. The dots on his cheeks in his magical form can count as freckles, too.

Rewrite / Extra plot and character details / "At All Costs" sequence / Concept art

[honeybeewhereartthee]

CHAU: For You, my darling.

Request by: @kimishime .

this actually from 12-13-2023 draft. Sorry it took a year.

In a world where Fae exist and live beside us. Where they live off in a system of collecting crystal hearts from human pure emotions. A story of you who did not know of the world behind the normal lense of humanity lies, magic and danger as well dangerously handsome and attractive endeavour.

"hey look at that handsome guy." You friend pulled your sleeve as she point at the guy who's wearing such out of place outfit out in the open. Wearing a bunny suit with ears and tail to match. His blue hair stood up from the rest as he scan the area in a state of disoriented about something.

'what a weird guy dressing up such...' you thought as you don't wish to associate with such person right now. Even through his good looking.

That doesn't make up for being shameless and gutsy out in the public.

You inverted your eyes from the figure as your friend fan girl about how handsome he is. How sexy he is. You guess have fallen love at first sight to the bunny.

You thought as you look at your phone not realizing the gaze of the bunny suit stranger went to your direction for a moment before he wink and smile to the people looking at him, and then he collect their crystalize heart that show pink and red.

As the crystalize heart gather onto his hand, through no one can see but fae. People who show adoration toward him suddenly become uninterested. He then disappear away from the crowd like magic.

"Hey mc, why are you using phone in the sidewalk?" Your friend poke your side making you flinch cause of how surprised you were.

"Huh... Aren't you googling your eyes to that bunny just now?" You rise a brow at her, you were an understanding friend who don't comment on her new crush and let her have her time and this how she tell you off?

She look at you in confusion. "What bunny?" It seems as the crystalize heart of their adoration have been harvested, not only the emotion but also the memories for stranger is taken away.

You give her a look and look around, that bunny is no longer there. Oh well not your business if your friend started to felt senile those days.

A couple of days since you went out with your friend. You were throwing trash to the dump when you heard giggling and women squealing, which really noise at that alley that supposed to be quite and peaceful.

You look up to see what cause the crowd and you saw the same bunny suit weirdo from a few days back being surrounded by people but his not wearing that outfit but some casual outfit now. For a moment you and him made an eye contact .

He smiles at you which made you sweat drop as he is such a weird guy smiling at you like that, as if you know him.

"Agh... " You grumble as you decide to not bother with such troublesome individual. You look away and went back to what your doing: Throwing trash and went on your merry way through as you left you don't caught the way the strange stranger who quickly harvested the crystal heart and look around yet found the one his looking for gone.

"Being charming and good looking is quite a blessing and a curse." He sigh as he failed to get near that person again. They once again disappear from his line of view. Through he smile as he went his way thinking there's more chances in later days.

the crowd from earlier have long forgotten their adoration and memories of that handsome stranger. Making it easy for him to slip by.

"I wonder what shall I order." You thought as you line up for your coffee in the coffee shop. It's one of the rare times you want to drink some expensive coffee.

Luckily you have money to buy in such dare time where you mind scream to buy and waste your money in some premium coffee. Then again, you might or might not regret it later. Too bad you don't care about it now.

"HiMeru think the latte with cream is quite a delight from this shop." A person spoke beside you. You felt goosebumps as you don't know there's someone beside you nor they'll invade your privacy to even speak to you.

"Agh... Aren't you that weirdo from few days ago." You can't help but commented out loud when you see who it was. It was the same fucking weirdo from few days back. Just how bad is your luck to meet the same person three times under one month? Your words made the stranger look at you in shock but then he smile like he don't have that look of shock just now.

"Being called a weirdo is not on HiMeru definition as of before. " He is quite surprised that you even call someone as sexy and cool or mysterious as HiMeru "weirdo" that's quite a word thats below his standards.

"..." You decide to not talk to him any longer. It will just made the conversation last longer than you want too. He seems confuse you don't want to continue to talk to him. Usually human would want to talk to him more. It's quite a new experience to say at least.

He decide to look into it as he never meet such a cold blooded human before. Maybe your one of those people who never fallen in love. If that's the case if he did manage to make you fall for him. Your crystal heart will worth more than others.

That was his plan as he decided to bother you and entangled his life to try to make you appease and adore him. But somehow he keep failing. As you seems to have a heart that won't love a real person.

You and him did become acquaintances as you refuse to acknowledge him as a friend since he probably up to no good with how he come into your life. He can't help but clap at how accurate your deduction of the situation but never say it out loud.

"Hey do you know that your a suspicious person?" You suddenly told him one day when he manage to ask you in a date ( that he of course only assume as such as you think your only being treated to a free meal by him)

"ah? Someone like me can't be suspicious you know. I'm an angel after all." He smiles at you as he did hinted what type of fae he is. But you think his being narcissist once again. Through it been a while since he start to use a first person way of calling himself. Since he keep using "HiMeru this or HiMeru that" before.

"I have trust issues. I don't think someone like you would approach me without reason. Just tell me what you want and leave me alone. I seen all fictional story like this one. You better stop it or it won't lead anywhere for you." Your quite a heartless person. It pain to see a human to think such way. He wonder what kind of life you live to not trust a good well of person.

"... Well. " He thought of a reason. He really think your going to file a complaints if he don't answer you right. He did learn that when he hang out enough with you. "Maybe HiMeru have fallen in love with you." He smile as he lied. Its not a taboo to love a human. It's rather bad to love a fae of opposite function to be honest. But then again this is only his reasoning after all.

"That sound like a lie." You wanted to tell him but then decide to play his game. You give him a a mouse look. "So you want to date someone like me?" You giggle as you think his reasoning is quite adsorb. But you having fun to make him split out what he really want from you.. nothing ever come out from a good looking weirdo approaching the most anti social person in the town.

"A-ah... S-something like that." HiMeru is taken back with your smile, you always frowning or never show him a smile. You look cute when you smile. It's moe. But he quickly compose himself with a cough.

"Then will you go out with me HiMeru?" You give him the most sweet smile you can master. You don't really expect him to agree. But he did. "Please take care of HiMeru, darling.." Which made you look at him through your into this situation as a joke, to even think of backing away.

'This is only for the first love crystal heart.' HiMeru told himself as he held your hand that seems to match his own, like it meant to be.

He spend more time with you as couple. 'this is for my job.' he lied to himself as he felt his heart being effected by his own action.

He felt days comes by and the flow of time around them seems to pass so quickly as he made many memories with you.

He research of all the things that couple do, so that you'll fall in love with him, then he can harvest your love and he can finally leave. ' he tried to tell himself as he look at you who slowly opening up to him.

You no longer treat him as suspicious acquaintance but a friend you can open up too, even so you two are basically dating. You no longer suspicious of him that much, as he saw your heart colored in the color of friendship.

He felt pained that you still don't like him enough to adore him. Why does it take a while for you to love him? He really want to hurry up but also can't bare to see such future where you don't know him anymore. His heartache. He don't understand himself at all.

His only doing this because he need more money to help his brother, as a first love crystal heart is very expensive. He better not get attach to a human. It's fetal mistake of a fae. As a fae can only love one person in their whole life. So he shouldn't even try to get attach...

'and you'll forget about him... when his done with you.' He felt his heartache at the thought of the future. So he decide that let the future he as he live in the present. He would enjoy what time he can with you. That what he decided.

"Meru what's with a long face...?" You and him are out in a date when HiMeru start to felt something bad will happened. He look at the sky, he felt it's distorted. Something is gravely wrong with the world. It doesn't feel right. "I.... " Worries about his younger brother flash in his mind. He need to check what's going on but doing so he have to leave you alone for a moment.

"Ah. Is there a trouble you Meru? Then I don't mind you go check it out. It's probably your instincts telling you something might happen isn't it." You smile at him. "But we're in a date..." He and you rarely went to one those days since he been busy with work and you with your life.

"That's ok, there's always another day. So go check on your brother." You encourage him that's it's ok. That there's another day to have a date.

"Ok. I'll go check on Kaname. " He have told you about his family situation, at least not including that his not human. He felt opening up with you, his drown onto you as you too have been open to him about your troubles. As it's just fair as he tells you his secrets and family life. HiMeru held your hand as he look at you one more time. He don't understand what's this feeling inside of him. He want to engrave your image to his memories.

"*Chuu." You give him a soft kiss in the cheek, making him blush and he saw your cheeks burning and your heart shining in pink color. His plan work but he don't want to continue it. He thought as his own heart seems to show reddish color. His quite sick in the head as he foolishly have trapped himself in this love game. But it's ok. Since you share the same feeling with another.

"I don't know what's wrong... But I swear I'll go check on Kaname and then go back here ok?" He kiss your forehead as he sigh in content as you hug him one last time. You nodded your head as you watch him leave.

The sight of him was the last time you witness as the sky start to fall, the anger of a certain fae have slowly destroyed the world and everything but you waited in the same location, because you promise you'll wait for HiMeru.

As the world have come to an end, and reset once again through the event outside the gaze of humans never been known to you, who found yourself in the time where your with your friend in a busy street. Not remembering of the time of the previous timeline before the world end and regression have occured.

As familiar event occured of a blue haired stranger that run in a busy street looking for someone, he don't understand who's his looking for but as his senses come back to him, all eyes have caught his sight and he have no choice but collect those hearts and leave before he can make more scene.

This event that occured many times, over and over again as the time regress as the world was about to meet it end. You and him are fated to meet yet in the end will be separated....

At least that's until the disaster that cause the universe to regress have been stopped. HiMeru who is not eaten by the chaos nor you who died from chaos waiting for him, have finally run back to see if your safe and sound after knowing and making his brother be in a safe zone. As he run to the empty street, he thought you have left but you were still there, playing with your phone waiting for him.

"MC...! " He run back at you. He forgotten to change back to his human cloths and is in his outfit that he use to disguise as Kaname. "Hey. Is your brother safe—...." You were taken back by how he hug you. You don't understand him at all. "What's wrong?" You pat his back. You worry that he might hit his head or something.

"Nothing... I felt my nightmare have ended...." He have a feeling that he always felt he can never run back to where you are. As you and him will meet tragic ending. Yet right now he hug your tightly in his arms, his nightmare have failed to happened as your safe and sound. His brother is safe too. The world is not ending. It's ok now. Everything is ok now.

"Ah... Please don't cry." You saw him tearing up. A human like you will never understand how a fae. An slightly guess something really bad happened, especially him who's an angel that supposed to horned the bells that alert the world about the world ending. Your an obviously fool, a human who don't have a care about the world. But it's ok. Because everything is ok now.

"HiMeru felt something just bad happened. So let's get married." He honestly don't understand himself but he felt he better stop possiblity that something might happen again, so he better make sure your safe and sound. Since if a human exchange heart with a fae. They can horror the ability of the fae.

"Ah.....?!" You tried to process what he just said. Your ears, your face turn bright red as he just propose to you. You heart seems to beat irregular, you might be sick. So sick.

"m-meru... Jest." You cover your face as you can't bare to look at him. How can he suddenly propose our of the blue?! Where did that even come from?! "I don't jest. So for my darling. Would you marry me?" He repeated himself, he don't felt it's a mistake.

"But we just date each other for like a year." You tried to reason, he might be impulsive and just doing this cause there some tragic event that occured.

"Doesn't matter, it felt like a hundred years and I know you very well." It was the truth it been many timeline. It surely felt like a hundred years. That why he felt he don't want to waste another second. Through he don't know that indeed that there's many regression that occured. It's just his instinct telling him that. "Your so weird Meru..." You cover your face. You really can't believe how shameless he is.

"B-but if you insist." You shyly look at him. He give you a smile as felt happy to see your heart finally become red pure love. But unlike his previous plans.

He don't wish to take it away, unless it's only for you two exchange for another.a fae loving human is not forbidden, it's just a dumb thing to do cause the fae will have the short end of the stick but he will find a way for it work out. For you, my darling I would waste less time now.

"Ah, I'm right then when I said your suspicious bastard."it been a while, Meru manage to make a way for a fae and human marries without much trouble as he don't want to leave you alone cause of possibilities he might die if he give his heart to you. Obviously finding a way is easy as long he ask that core fae a solution who offer it without asking why.

He finally told you his not really human. And why he approaches you before. As he want you to meet his brother who's in the world of fae. But first you need to know his identity. "You can't go back now. We're married." He show you his marriage band with you. "Agh. I don't plan too. Hmmp." You cannot believe you been fooled by this angel. Through your not really that mad at him as he told you that he really does care about you.

"Kaname, I'm home and I brought someone with me." The time in the world of fae and human world flow different so it just been a day sense HiMeru sent his brother a massage his getting married but a few months in the human world. Holding your hand as he open the door.

His two precious love ones going to meet. And probably would get alone. He hope things will no longer end in that nightmare. That it's really over. He smiles in the unknown future with you. But everything would be ok as long you two are with him.

The end.

[soulmate-game]

I guess I have to make up for AO3’s crash by dipping into my google docs and uploading every chapter of The Heroes’ Game on here for you guys. Once I run out of reruns of The Heroes’ Game, I’ll just have to start cranking out new chapters/fics/one shots.

Sigh. Look what I do for my your boredom.

—*—*—*—*—*

Chapter 1

Soulmates. That gooey, gushy, over-sentimentalized, overly relied-upon concept that was unfortunately (or fortunately, for romantics) very real. But unlike stories or movies, it was not uniform. There was not one universal soulmark or set type of soul bond. There were romantic soulmates, platonic soulmates, even familial soulmates (a subdivision of the above platonic, more specific yet stronger due to the distinction). But not only were the types of soul bonds broken into three separate categories, but the variety of types of soulmarks that a pair (or triad, in some rare cases) could end up with was still being discovered. Already, there were almost a hundred different catalogued forms that a soul bond could come in. All of them studied and confirmed by both science and magic as being valid. Even the timing that a soul bond chose to reveal itself could vary individual to individual.

Which led to the current dilemma.

A certain half-Asian girl with her blue-black hair up in pigtails was forced to watch as a blond boy and Japanese girl gaped at one another. As everyone present watched, bright spiraling designs that seemed to be made of light itself etched themselves on one arm of both teens, starting from where their hands gripped one another. The blond had tripped down the stairs, only for his hand to be caught by the smaller Asian girl and bright light to erupt from their palms.

The half-Asian, half-French girl at the bottom of the stairs could only observe in mute dismay as a swirling foil of pulsing maroon light sank itself into the right arm of Adrian Agreste, bright neon green markings adding detail to the stylized weapon. A matching symbol, orientation flipped and colors inverted, etched itself in glowing light on the right arm of Kagami Tsurugi.

They were soulmates.

The only person in Marinette’s class other than herself without a visible soul mark or completed bond (until now), the only person Marinette had believed herself capable of being with, had a soul mate. And by the way they stared into each other’s eyes even as Adrien continued to dangle perilously over the concrete steps, it wasn’t platonic.

Marinette felt cold, as if someone had stuffed a funnel down her throat just to dump ice directly into her stomach.

When Chat Noir immediately stopped hitting on Ladybug only to apologize in private and reveal he had met his soulmate, Marinette connected the dots. The magic of the Miraculous helped protect the identities of the wielders, but could not hold up against significant hard proof. That, and Marinette was getting more and more immune to the lesser Miraculous magic as she trained to become the next Guardian.

On the rooftops, Chat was still her partner. Despite showing up less often during Akuma attacks or nightly patrols due to having dates, he was still reliable whenever he showed up. But as Adrien Agreste, he and Marinette had never been further apart.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Still sulking?” The all-too-familiar voice of Chloe Bourgeois cut through Marinette’s intrusive thoughts, the usually haughty tone surprisingly gentle. After quite a bit of time, introspection, and character development, Chloe had become a good friend of Marinette’s. Still incredibly hard to tolerate at times, but dependable.

The black haired girl just groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “He was my first real crush, Chloe,” the girl complained, clearly still hurt. “I loved him. Or I thought I did, anyway. You can’t expect me to heal from it all that quickly.”

“Of course not,” The blond heiress agreed easily, shrugging even as she put a forkful of food in her mouth. Maybe trying to have girl talk with Marinette on the fourth floor of a five-star hotel wasn’t the best idea, her short friend being incredibly uncomfortable in the atmosphere despite her personally made clothing being more than acceptable for the environment. “But it’s been two months, Mari. It’s time to straighten your spine, and get out there looking again! You don’t need Adrien, just like you don’t need Alya or sausage-hair or any of the idiots that flock with them in our class,” the girl reasoned. “Adri-kins is sweet, but he has the entirely wrong approach to Lila, you know. Convincing you to stay quiet was the worst advice he could have given. Staying quiet would never have allowed me to change or see that what I was doing was wrong,” Chloe pointed out. “Why would it work for her?”

“Adrien is just being careful,” Marinette defended weakly, pushing her salad around her plate disinterestedly. Knowing he was Chat just made her sympathize with his motives even more. He didn’t know Ladybug was in his class to back him up instantly, after all. But still, Marinette knew Chloe was right. Adrien might have good intentions, but his execution of them left a lot to be desired. “He doesn’t want another Akuma.”

“We get Akumas every week, he should just suck it up. We get even more Akumas from her lies than we would if everyone knew what she was doing,” the blond girl continued easily, not giving in to her friend’s weak excuses. “Besides, telling you to be quiet just puts you at the most risk of Akumatization. He should know that. It’s a miracle it hasn’t happened to you yet,” Chloe’s perfect babydoll-pink lips thinned as she stabbed a piece of chicken on her plate. “Lucky for all of us, not that he knows that.”

Marinette just sighed in agreement. “Can we just, you know, stop talking about this?” The meeker of the two asked gently, finally managing a mouthful of greens. “This is supposed to be our girl time. Ever since you transferred schools, we’ve had less and less time to just hang out.”

Chloe frowned, but gave in with a nod. “Sure, sure. Oh! Daddy told me about how you won that Wayne Enterprises competition for your class!” Chloé suddenly perked up, leaning over the table in newfound enthusiasm, her suddenly exclamation making the rich crowd around them side-eye the two teenage girls. Marinette flailed her arms in an attempt to get her friend to calm down and be quiet, an attempt that she should have known would be futile. All Chloe did was lean slightly back towards her own chair. “Well?! Are you excited to be going to Gotham?”

“Of course I am,” Marinette finally stopped trying to calm down her excitable friend. “Being able to travel to America, study the fashion of Gotham City, be inspired by the foreign landscape—“ Marinette sighed dreamily, not unlike the way she used to sigh over Adrien. Her hands even cradled her cheeks as she lost herself momentarily to her daydreams. Her hands dropped as the illusion was ruined by the memory that— “The whole class is going though, so it’s going to be an uphill battle to avoid Liar Rossi spoiling the whole trip.”

“Nope, you said you didn’t want to talk about her. This conversation will be sausage-hair free until dinner is over, at the least,” Chloe chided lightly. “I heard Bruce Wayne himself is inviting your class to a charity gala at the end of the trip, and that you will be presenting a speech as an honored guest and owner of the winning submission!” Chloé gasped suddenly, dropping her fork onto her plate with a cacophonous clatter. “Oh. Em. Gee. You’re designing your own dress, aren’t you? Who am I kidding, of course you are!” Chloé squealed in delight. “MDC, strutting her skills overseas, it’s glorious!”

“Shh, Chloe!” Marinette went right back to flailing her arms uselessly. “There’s a reason I haven’t publicly come out as MDC yet! Someone will hear you!” The short blue-eyed girl was looking around the room frantically. The waiters wouldn’t dare kick out the mayor’s daughter, but other patrons were already leaving early or requesting a different floor in order to escape the infamous Chloe Bourgeois Chaos. On the bright side, none of them seemed to be paying any attention to what the young rich girl had actually said.

“Oooh,” Chloe leaned over the table again with a wide, mischievous grin. “What if you finally meet your soulmate?” Her smile widened impossibly. “Of course you’d have an American soulmate. Someone blunt, maybe, to combat your constant worrying. He’d have to always tell you upfront exactly how he feels or else you’d constantly be worried about misinterpreting them,” the girl mused, completely ignoring Marinette’s groaning and moaning about how embarrassing she was being. “And everyone knows that nobody does Blunt quite as well as Americans. Ooh, I wonder what your mark is gonna be!”

“Hopefully something invisible,” Marinette finally spoke up, her remark a mere grumble as her nose scrunched up. “It would kind of ruin the whole secret identity thing if it was noticeable, right? Do soul bonds even care about secret identities? Oh no,” Marinette blanched, spiraling in true Marinette Dupain-Cheng fashion. “What if it’s on my face? The magic can’t hide something that identifiable! Everyone will know who I am, and then Hawk Moth will attack my family and isolate me and attack me out of costume or akumatize me, and then he’ll make his wish, and then world war three will actually happen, and—“ The ramble was thankfully stopped by perfectly manicured hands slapping over Marinette’s mouth, one blond eyebrow raised at her as Chloe kept the word vomit from continuing stubbornly.

“No. Stop catastrophizing, the worst-case scenario doesn’t always happen, girl. La—“ Chloe glances around the suddenly half-empty room and lowered her voice. “You know who is such a deep part of you that there’s no way your soul bond will ignore that. I seriously doubt it will cause your identity to come out.”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped in relief. She waited until Chloe removed her hands and sat back down before saying softly; “I just wish you could come with me. Then it would be bearable.”

Chloé gave one of her oh-so-rare soft smiles to the smaller girl, nodding. “I know. I wish I could go too, but I can’t miss a whole month of school. But you’ll have Alix with you, which is better than nothing. And besides, everyone in Paris knows I’m Queen Bee,” Chloe flipped her hair haughtily, making Marinette grin. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate Gotham’s heroes.”

“In other words,” Marinette started slyly, a teasing grin overtaking her lips as she avoided Chloe’s gaze playfully. “You don’t want to risk attracting the attention of Gotham’s rogues because you couldn’t handle them, right?”

Chloe spluttered in denial, tossing her napkin at Marinette in false anger. “How dare you! The Queen Bee can handle any villain!” Chloe became serious again. “Be careful while you’re over there, yeah? Me, Ryuuko, and Viperion can keep Paris safe while you’re gone but you will only have Alix.”

And Chat, Marinette thought to herself, but Chloe doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s better if Ladybug doesn’t appear in Gotham at all,” Marinette agreed, “So I’ll be as careful as possible. The less evidence anyone has to connect me and Ladybug, the better.”

Chloe nodded. “Of course. Now, did you see Clara’s last music video?” The blond heiress/superhero was turned into a common teenager again as she squealed in delight. “It. Was. Fabulous. And the dress you made her for it? I want one.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Of course this would happen. Marinette stood in the lobby of the hotel where her and her class were staying while in Gotham, with no classmates or teachers in sight and the bus she was supposed to board already gone. At least I’m fluent in English, or else I’d be screwed, she thought to herself. Resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t be able to catch up to the bus, Marinette instead went over to the hotel information desk and asked for directions to the Gotham Museum of History, where her class had left to visit.

At least she had money for a cab.

A cab that apparently decided to kick her out two blocks from her destination in favor of picking up a couple that were positively dripping in expensive jewelry. Marinette dusted herself off, adjusting her purse on her shoulder with a frown. She couldn’t blame him for looking after his own finances, but he didn’t have to chase after tips that blatantly. The girl didn’t even bother arguing with the man, simply handing over the cash she owed him before turning in what she thought was the right direction, if she was reading the map on her phone correctly. It was already dark out, not surprising considering how their plane had arrived in the afternoon and they only got a few hours to rest before visiting the museum as their first activity of the trip.

Quickly memorizing what she thought was the right route, Marinette tucked her phone back into her purse and smiled at Tikki, who hid inside it. “Alright,” Marinette whispered to her Kwami. “I hope I haven’t missed too much!”

Quickly closing her bag, the girl started off towards her destination.

And promptly got lost.

“I thought I saw it this way…” she groaned to herself when she realized she didn’t recognize anything around her, and it had only gotten darker in the past half hour she had been walking. At least being Ladybug keeps me in shape.

Marinette straightened her shoulders, resigning herself to retracing her steps for the twentieth time. She turned on her heel, walking forward as her bright blue eyes scanned her surroundings for anything that might lead her to the museum.

Until she realized the street was oddly empty, and a soft crunch of glass sounded from behind her. Marinette had prepared for this, at least. I’m being followed. Careful to remain calm and keep on walking as if nothing was wrong, Marinette strained her ears and eyes. She managed to catch a glimpse of her tail in a window— tall, broad shouldered, biceps like hams. The girl frowned. She could easily outmaneuver someone twice her size, but it would draw a lot of attention.

Firmly in Ladybug Mode, Marinette slowed down just enough to let the guy come a bit closer, before she veered sharply into an alley. Risky? Yeah, but it would be much less likely to make a spectacle of herself when she handed the guy his ass.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for the guy to attempt to grab her. As soon as she felt his hand reaching for her though, Marinette easily clamped onto his wrist and used her momentum to hurl the assailant over her shoulder. The large body hit the gravel roughly on his back, letting out a moan that was half pain and half anger. Marinette backed up just enough to stay out of the man’s immediate range, her eyes continuing to dart around.

He hadn’t been alone.

His boots are good quality, so are his cargo pants. No gun, but several knives on his belt. Professional, not out to kill. Capture? As soon as Marinette saw two other guys dressed identically to the man now pulling himself back up to a standing position come out to surround her in the alley, she put it all together. Each newcomer had a tranq gun trained on her. Traffickers.

Ever the improviser, Marinette quickly rolled out of the way of the first few darts shot at her and grabbed a misshapen hunk of wood from the ground to block the next two projectiles like a warped shield. Lunging to her feet, she whipped the chunk of wood at one man with deadly precision, the plank hitting him square across the forehead hard and fast enough to knock him out.

One down. The guy she had initially thrown over her shoulder took advantage of her distraction to wrap his large arms around her, trapping her own against her torso. Not one to be trapped for long, Marinette jumped up and flipped herself upside down so that her legs wrapped around the guy’s neck, and twisted so that her body weight unbalanced him. Combined with his sudden lack of oxygen and field of view, the guy stumbled just enough for Marinette to get one arm free and slam her elbow into his most sensitive area. The guy released her with a howl, and Marinette twisted into a three-point landing. She paused only long enough to slam the side of her arm into a pressure point on howling man’s neck that knocked him out before springing up to face the—

Marinette paused. The last attacker was already tied up, a much different muscular form holding the cursing man a few inches above the ground.

Batman.

“You know, you shouldn’t walk around Gotham at night,” a casual voice sounded from behind her, making Marinette swing around to face Nightwing. The blue vigilante was leaned against the wall, with the first guy Marinette had knocked out already tied up at his feet. “But that was pretty good fighting. You made a few unnecessary moves, but overall not half bad.”

A third figure dropped down from a nearby roof, making Marinette whip her head to the side for a third time. Ugh, I’ll get whiplash at this rate. How are they able to move so noiselessly? The last figure was Robin, who made short work of tying up the last guy before standing and staring straight at Marinette. He crossed his arms, and the French girl suddenly had the feeling she was about to be scolded.

“What were you thinking, leading them into an alley? Are you an idiot?” Were the first words Robin said, instantly making Marinette puff her cheeks out in indignation. How dare he?!

“Robin,” Batman interrupted whatever retort Marinette had been about to make. “Ducking into the alley made it less likely that anyone else would be caught in the fight. It was not necessarily bad a move. That being said,” the most experienced hero in the alley turned to the girl in pigtails. Marinette gulped. It was really intimidating, having Batman’s state focused solely on her. She forced herself to stand as straight as possible. “It was still incredibly reckless. You had no idea how many people were following you, or what their skill level was. I highly suggest you act with much more caution next time. Or better yet, don’t travel Gotham alone even during the day.”

“I’ll be careful,” Marinette agreed, the three heroes instantly picking up on her French accent. “This wasn’t exactly my choice. First, my class left the hotel without me even though I’m the one who applied for the contest that even allowed us to come here in the first place. Then, my cab driver kicks me out a few blocks from where I asked him to take me, and then I got lost. Merde!” Marinette threw her hands up. “It’s not my fault I have bad luck. And you,” she turned and pointed to Robin, about to give him her two cents about his critique of her. That is, until when fingertip actually made contact with his chest and both teens visibly jumped.

It was like static the moment they made contact, but nothing visual happened. Marinette was about to shrug it off as nothing when—

Her vision split in half, like a TV screen when someone was playing a two-player game. Suddenly she could see her normal perspective, with Batman to her left, Nightwing to her right, and her finger straight ahead pushing into Robin’s chest, but she could also see a second perspective.

A perspective where she stared straight at herself.

She watched as her own blue eyes widened in disbelief. She watched as she stumbled back a few shocked steps, and as Robin did the same in front of her.

“Mon dieu,” Marinette cursed breathily, unable to move her eyes from Robin or acknowledge the frantic questions being posed to both of them from Batman and Nightwing. The teens just stared at one another. “Of course my soulmate would be a vigilante.”

“Shit,” Marinette had no idea which of the three heroes said that, but they all seemed to share the sentiment. Shit, indeed.

Nightwing shifted and said; “At least all the traffickers are knocked out.”

—*—*—*—*—*

[iviarellereads]

Wheel of Time full series spoiler thoughts on TSR 6-10

A probably semi-regular weekly bonus to my reread blog, since sometimes you realize things on reread that just make you need to yell in a full spoiler space.

There is a world in which I could have loved Moiraine and Thom as a couple. It is not the version of the books that we got, where Moiraine is depowered and sops to Thom's ego as a test (ick) by offering to give up everything she's ever worked for (ICK) to be with him if he wants it. They're about to have their last meeting for 9 books and like, I see it, I see the setup, but also you don't get credit for this meager setup. It's definitely in my top 3 worst romances of the series, right up there with Siuan-Gareth and Mat-Tuon.

I would be 99% in favour of dropping the Trakand-Damodred connection entirely in the show, honestly. It doesn't get used, it doesn't go anywhere, it barely gets mentioned except when Rand needs to angst over having a brother out there somewhere. It's just trivia, and like, sure, fans love trivia, but it's also absolutely beside the point. It's like Slayer's dual resemblance to the Mantears and the Mandragorans, but we'll get THERE soon enough. (And by soon enough I mean in a few more weeks.)

Setting up the grain sale to Illian here was a brilliant little seed. And entirely forgettable because it's not the real focus of the scene.

And then right on the heels of that, telling Mat about the 'Finn doorway. "You know very well ter’angreal are not stories." Oh but these are.

Chapter 9 still annoys me, but seeing Egg and Avi becoming friends is always sweet.

And then Rand's stubborn inability to let women die, even when they want to, even when a man who'd done what they did would deserve it in his opinion. I'll try to keep my eye-rolling sighs to a minimum, at least in these posts.

I wonder what RJ was doing with the child death/attempted Healing scene. Like, obviously, setting the limit on the magic system. But he rarely did just one thing with any given moment, especially one so memorable and iconic. It feels like on top of that, it could be a setup for something to subvert the expectation, the way he subverted, lampshaded, inverted, and otherwise completely fucked with our expectations of damn near every other trope in the series. Just, thinky thoughts about what it might have been, what it relates to later on. Just setting up for breaking so many "impossible" barriers? But this one never is.

And y'know what, I'm gonna leave that all in place to show y'all how dense I can be because it only JUST occurred to me rereading it before queueing this up that of course it's setting up to contrast with the return of Aginor and Balthamel and Ishy and Lanfear. [forehead slap] In my defence I've only had about 5 hours of sleep and then a full day's activity on top of it on the day I'm assembling these last notes.

[b0kksu-gone]

Gimme some more hcs for his Bleach verse uwu. Please. 😌

The Gojo Clan is ranked as the third noble family within the Soul Society. They are illusive, enigmatic, and do not wish to associate with others unless absolutely necessary. Everything is done by a proxy, thus, there is one designated soul within the clan that will represent them. The greatest && longest standing member is the rare anomaly, Gojo Itsuki who as a son is considered somewhat of an oddity. Thus, he is the sire of the Six Eyes, the crown anchor of the family’s lineage. Most are aware of a Gojo due to their physical traits along with strong spiritual presence, the majority of the clan are women, they tend to wear hues of silver, light blue, dark blue, or teal which is considered royal amongst them. 

Satoru himself isn’t seen until Rukia’s execution, he acts as a diplomat keeping the peace && building bonds with the Royal Guard. In fact, his presence at that moment was merely to investigate while being rather nosy himself. While he appears jubilant, kind, over excited about everything his spiritual pressure is menacing && can quickly trigger fear even the impulse to buckle. That is depending on his mood or if he wishes to play nicely, which he isn’t, he is aware of the strength within him && what his birth means. There is a strange sense when one gets to know him that the role he is designated to wear is an empty crown. Seldom few know the truth of his being until it is later revealed; he is the Soul King.

Loves the living, envious of those who can transverse between death && life. He likes to hear their stories over tea with plenty of sweets. Though it’s rare to see his actual gaze as the Gojo Clan finds the bindings to keep away impurity, there is an overwhelming sense of sorrow, Satoru who wishes to leave the cage behind but cannot. He’s resigned himself to duty && fate for a greater ambition even if it seems futile. 

Short Zanpakuto, The Inverted Spear of the Heaven, yes this is a complete play on the weapon that nearly killed Gojo in canon. Infinity is considered a secondary addition, the shield barrier acts as a part of the sword, when pierced it can combust or explode in a final act to keep Satoru safe. He always jokes, with such a sword, you could fell the Gods && the Soul Society - wouldn’t that be neat? 

Long hair is a sign of luxury in the Gojo Clan, those who wear it often plate it or wear a loose fluffy braid, Satoru prefers the ladder. Delicately woven into his locks is a light blue ribbon to signify where he came from. It is a keepsake he adores deeply since it is one thing that resembles Satoru, not the Soul King. In his younger years, he is depicted as a man with an undercut and fearsome dark blue eyes. He also wears a haori over his uniform in pure white with silver tassels, a long dark red scarf safely pinned by an emblem of a dragonfly, a mark of the Gojo Clan that is seen within their jewelry, portraits, ect. 

I think if given the chance he’d probably love hiding out at the Shoten with Urahara. It would be hysterical if Satoru was a store clerk who kept check of all the inventory and even wrote various blog posts to entice customers over new sweet treats. 

[a-deed-without-a-name]

can you tell us about your aquarium

This is the best ask I have ever received. I hope you know the gates of Heaven have opened for you and only you, Anon.

Short answer: this is it.

Long answer under the cut. Very long, 'cause it's my birthday weekend and my gift to myself is I'm gonna gush about my stupid tank.

This is the smallest tank I've had in years - a 3.6 gallon Fluval. It absolutely counts as a nano tank, which has been both a challenge and a relief.

(My last tank - which I had to get rid of years ago, the last time I moved - was a 40-gallon that mainly featured very dumb dojo loaches and destructively horny oranda goldfish. I miss them every single day but when I surrendered them to my local fish store, the 90-year-old proprietor told me very approvingly that it's very rare for orandas to breed and dojo loaches usually don't get as big as mine did, so that helped soothe the sting a little.)

This one's technically a betta tank, but I'm still split on if I'm ever gonna put a betta in it. The literature on how much room is humane is split and it's really the luck of the draw if your fish will tolerate the inverts or harass them to death.

For now, it's just neocaridina shrimp (mostly red rilis, although a lovely orange lad and a blue juvenile snuck in there and I'm looking to get a few more color morphs), bladder snails, a ramshorn named Guts, and plants. I did not actually buy any of the snails, which is a quintessential aquarium-owner experience.

I've been working on this tank for a few months now. It's my first heavily-planted one, and it went through a few stages.

First off: I fell for a carpet seed scam.

Yeah. I know. I should've done more research. On the plus side, I got very, very lucky and wound up with something that can actually grow immersed (some kind of hygrophila, I'm 99% sure). For now, at least, it's eating all my ammonia, so yay, and I'm watching it and my water parameters like a hawk to make sure I can go full teardown at the first sign of melting.

(If I were smart and hard-working, I'd've taken everything out and redone it all soon as I figured out what a colossal fuck-up I'd committed, but I am me, so we're waiting, watching, and taking baby steps towards un-FUBARing the tank.)

But the java moss and tiger lotus, at least, are real plants, and they're doing great.

Had a few issues with the neos, but they've stabilized.

And I just recently rescaped the entire tank! Including adding in some more plant variety and tearing out ~60% of the hygrophila (yes, I disposed of it safely, I'm not going to be the reason that shit winds up in the Colorado River).

The goal is eventually to remove all of it, but for now, what's left can stay; the animals like it and I don't want to stress them out anymore.

They seem to be doing great since the rescape; much more active now that the tank has some different environments for them to explore. They love their cobblestone path.

I've got a good male/female ratio on the neos, lots of wee baby bugs swimming around, and my girls keep getting knocked up!

Harlot.

(Ignore the tweezers. Long story. And the discoloration on the hygrophila; after rigorous water testing and pinching and poking the leaves a whole bunch, seems like its ugly ass just Looks Like That. So glad my dad bought those stupid seeds.)

And that's my aquarium. I've got a little bit of duckweed in there that's not growing as fast as I'd like, and my tiger lotus does not seem inclined to make lilypads any time soon, so I'm planning on getting some water spangles for aesthetics and also shrimp thrills.

I might post some more photos once the spangles are here and I've picked up a few more shrimp colors from my LFS - I don't want everyone to be brown in a few generations, but. Some more diversity would be cool, I think.