#should i tag their names i doubt i'll post much more of them

[chimeofthecomet]

Do i have clearance to post ocs,,, i had to draw my girlies for pride month and really liked it <33

[spnhunter4life]

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another. 

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards. 

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often. 

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since. 

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found. 

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered. 

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked. 

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise. 

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening. 

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala. 

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream. 

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done. 

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said. 

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence? 

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man. 

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer. 

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in. 

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated. 

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected. 

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested. 

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later. 

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first. 

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again. 

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?” 

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently. 

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?” 

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated. 

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. 

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times. 

“Like?” 

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly. 

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.” 

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly. 

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.” 

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head. 

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder? 

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to. 

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?” 

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.” 

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion. 

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him. 

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me. 

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face. 

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

[weirdstrangeandawful]

What is whump?

I get asked this question a lot so I figured I'd just make a post about it! I doubt a lot of people will see this since I'm a small whump blog but at least a few people will have a quick reference.

The short answer is that whump is a fictional genre of media. Like any genre, it's difficult for one person to entirely characterise but I'll do my best.

Whump is a fictional genre focused on the experience of pain. This can be physical pain or emotional pain. The pain could be acute or chronic. The focus could be on the recovery from the pain or on the pain itself. It's a super versatile genre!

Some frequently asked questions:

Okay, but how is this different from hurt/comfort?

This is a complicated question (hard to entirely characterise an entire genre, eh?) and it really depends on the writer. For me, hurt/comfort is a subset of whump where the comfort is required whilst whump is the larger, overarching genre where comfort is not an absolute necessity, but many others have different opinions!

What is a whumpee?

You'll often hear writers (especially prompt writers) in the whump community refer to characters as 'whumpee', 'whumper', and 'caretaker'. These are placeholder names like your good old A, B, and C. 'Whumpee' refers to the character experiencing the pain (literally 'the one being whumped'); 'whumper' is the (optional) character causing or contributing to the pain; and 'caretaker' is the (also optional) character helping care for the whumpee and alleviating the pain.

Why would I support someone who thinks people should experience pain?

Pain and adversity are facts of life. In fact, many of us as whump writers and readers engage with the genre to cope with pain and adversity in our real lives. It's important to remember that whump is a fictional genre and someone's interest in the fictional themes portrayed really aren't a reflection of what goes on in their real life. The name 'whump' may be contemporary but this is definitely not a contemporary genre (Shakespearean tragedies anyone?) so there is no use criticising its existence. If you don't like it, that's okay! Scroll on by and block the #whump tag if you need to. Like many artists, we're an accepting community and won't judge. In fact, we probably understand better than most that there is too much pain in the world and not everyone wants to read about more of it.

What's the difference between whump and BSDM/kink?

This is a complicated and very individualised answer. The oversimplified answer is that BDSM and kink are explicitly sexual/sensual whilst whump is not necessarily related to sex. But that is extremely oversimplified and doesn't cover all or even most people's experiences with either whump or BDSM/kink. The most generalised answer I can give is that whump is an overarching genre whilst BDSM and kink are individualised cultural practices and activites. But even that needs nuance and context to understand and apply. For me personally, I don't like combining the two because I experience them in very different ways, but that's just my experience!

Edit: I realise that I was not clear in the above answer. BDSM and kink are absolutely not inherently sexual at all. In my personal experience, I've found there to be a lot more overlap between BDSM/kink and sexual experiences than with whump but this is not true for many and maybe most people. No one person is qualified to answer this question.

[ukranianacearo]

"Mother", a strong word

Part 1 Part 3

Fem!Reader

Word count: 558

Mentions of Innocent zero's original name

TW: mention of [Y/N]

Pairing: romantically none, but reader had to marry Innocent zero

Tag: @makima1345

Genre: fluff I guess

Author's note: It's preferably to read part 1 first, because most of the lore is already explained there and I'm not a parrot to repeat it all over again. Someone wanted a part 2 so here it is😭 probably will write mash x reader fanfic soon, (probably gn or fem) and reader will have the same powers as here and a similar background, I think

---------------------------------------

The room was in complete silence. Which was awkward. You were sitting in the nursery's bed, your back against the headboard of the bed. Mash, who just came in, was standing in front of the bed's feet. Never you would think that it would be so awkward to talk to your own son, but here you are.

- "Um, hello, Mash. I'm [Y/N], your biological mother. You can call me whatever you're comfortable with. Also, sorry for letting Cyril, I mean, Innocent zero hunt you down for sport and almost kill you and your loved ones. Please, sit down. " - Saying that you patted the chair next to the bed you're sitting on.

- "M'kay." - This was getting really awkward. You didn't know what to say, but still tried to act calm. - "Why did you join him in the first place?" - You didn't expect such a question from him. Although, maybe you did. It wasn't too surprising after all.

- "To secure my own survival." - Your answer was in a soft voice, just like a mother's one should be. Mash was silent for a few moments, seemingly thinking about your answer. Then, he replied.

- "Didn't you have another choice? I heard people liked you back then." - You laughed lightheartedly at his words; he really didn't know as much as you thought. At first, you thought that Wahlberg or someone else told him about your persona, about how you are such a bad, lying, manipulative witch. But even if someone did, Mash seemed unbothered.

- "Silly, they didn't like me as a person. They liked what they say, what I gave them, what I showed them; they liked the happy and positive mage not the torn out lack magic who all can do is steal magic and throw punches. Innocent zero knew me, the actor, and not the character of the play. While he didn't plan to reveal it, enjoying the show too much, he also wouldn't try to help me in a dire situation unless I helped him." - You said calmly with a soft smile. He seemed to process the information, but there was some sort of lag in his brain halfway through. Before you could explain it again in simpler terms, someone barged into the room. It was a young boy, the same age as Mash, with pink hair and pink dull eyes. You knew it was Domina from the pink necklace, very similar to your own necklaces in design, around his neck. Domina looked agitated, as if he just run a marathon; he looked distressed and as if looking for something. When he finally spotted you sitting on the bed with Mash by your sight he had a complicated expression on his face. It revealed relief, doubt, nervousness, excitement and much more. He started slowly walking towards the bed you were sitting on and Mash seemed calm at his appearance.

- "Oh, hi Domina." - Mash said casually as he looked at Domina who stood already next to the bed, probably on the verge of tears as you looked at him with soft eyes and a smile, just like a mother should. It was the first time he felt so loved even without knowing the person personally well. You guys really had a whole bunch to talk about...

----------------------------------------------------------

I'm sorry it's so short compared to the first part, but I just couldn't wrap my head about how would Mash react😔 maybe, I'll do headcanons, like, post-""Mother", a strong word" but idk. Hope you enjoyed and take care of yourself! <3

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Afterlife Lessons

Summary: Sam’s awareness of ghosts extended to exactly two pieces of knowledge: Danny’s parents are ghost hunters, and ghosts are dangerous and she should stay away from them.

Unfortunately, neither of these things becomes something in her favor when she and Tucker are kidnapped by a ghost and turned into ghosts themselves— or half ghosts, apparently, something clarified to them by Amity Park’s resident hero Phantom, who also promises to stick around and help them figure out their new forms and powers.

But while Sam is certainly grateful for the help, now that she’s regularly spending time with their local ghost protector, she’s noticing things about him that seem a little more familiar than they should. And also that Phantom’s strong confident hero persona might be a bit more of a facade than anyone‘s realized.

Author's Note: I did an invisobang this year! It was a ton of fun to write, and (once the art is posted), I'll post the art in each chapter it matches with! I'm gonna be posting all fifteen chapters in rapid succession, so get ready for a lot of posts from this blog! I'm going to make a masterlist in just a minute, and I'll also tag every post with the title.

Art For This Chapter: @torchturtle link

...

Sam’s awareness of ghosts extended to exactly two pieces of knowledge, and both of those things came from Danny.  The first, that Danny’s parents hunted them, which he’d told them in embarrassment shortly after they met.  The second she’d learned shortly before it had been revealed to everyone that ghosts did, in fact, exist— when Danny had told her ghosts are dangerous, stay away from them.

Sam had admittedly been more than a little surprised when Danny told her this.  Like she’d said, he tended to be more embarrassed by his parents’ work than anything else.  Granted, he’d never said outright that he didn’t believe in them, and there were a couple of times Sam had seen him taking precautions that she knew his parents had recommended.  But she knew he’d just be uncomfortable if she brought it up, so she didn’t.

And then, suddenly, he was very serious in his telling of her that ghosts were dangerous, and she should avoid them at all costs.  Sam hadn’t had the first clue where the shift had come from, but he’d timed it pretty well, because it was around that time that Amity Park started getting regular visits from ghosts.  Luckily for them, one of those ghosts included Phantom.  And while the town in general was split on him and Danny was still just as insistent in telling her and Tucker to stay away from him, Sam saw the things he did.  The ghosts he fought.  The people he saved.  There had never been a doubt in her mind that Phantom was an ally.

She hadn’t ever really expected to count on that fact directly.

But then, she’d also never been directly targeted by a ghost before.  She couldn’t think of much else this one in particular could be doing, though.  The vampire-looking ghost knew her and Tucker’s names, it singled them out specifically on the way to school, and it had grabbed them and tied them up on seats in the back of a plane, of all things.  That was a little difficult to misinterpret.

Tucker was still breathing very quickly across from her in his window seat, and Sam was trying to make sure that he didn’t have a panic attack, while also looking around the plane for anything they could possibly use to help themselves.  She didn’t even know ghosts had planes, much less ones this… fancy.  This thing looked fancier than her parents’ private jet, which made her hate it for two reasons.

“Tucker,” Sam said quietly, drawing his gaze.  “You see that compartment up there labeled with a parachute?”

“No,” Tucker said immediately, looking very intently down at the floor.  “No, I absolutely do not see it.”

“Tucker.”

“Sam, you are insane if you think I’m risking jumping out of a plane!”

“You’d rather get to whatever secondary location this guy is dragging us to?” Sam snapped, still keeping her voice down.

“Right, because obviously the guy who kidnapped us and is dragging us somewhere is going to leave us with perfectly made parachutes that won’t break halfway down to the ground,” Tucker snapped back, which… was actually a decent point, though Sam loathed to admit it.

“Look, do you have a better idea?” she asked instead.

“Try to escape while we’re not several miles in the air?”

“When we’ve made it wherever we’re going so this guy has a home field advantage?”

“I don’t know Sam!  We don’t have a ton of options!” Tucker snapped.  “I still think I’d rather be kidnapped than dead!”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked seriously, giving Tucker a look, and then jerking her head backwards toward the cockpit.  “We don’t know what he wants.”

“I don’t want to die, Sam,” Tucker said desperately.  “I think we have a better chance of not dying if we stay on the plane until we get wherever we’re going.  Plus, you can’t even stand up to reach that compartment anyway.  Let’s just… stay put.”

Sam gave a huff of irritation and a little bit of fear, but gave in to Tucker’s fairly decent points and leaned back in the plush chair.

“Okay,” she said.  “Let’s try and work this out, then.  We’ve been flying for what, an hour now?  Where do you think we’re going?”

“We’re heading north,” Tucker said, with a nod towards the window.  “Based on the way the sun was rising earlier.”

“Great, so that narrows it down to a little less than half the continent,” Sam groaned.  “Do you think he’s staying in the U.S.?”

“Do I think a ghost cares about a country’s borders?  I have no clue if we’re going to Canada.  Maybe he’ll just keep flying north and drop us in the middle of the ocean.”  The second after Tucker said it, he seemed to realize what he’d said, and his face turned a little queasy.  “I hope not.”

“Me too,” Sam muttered, looking out what little of the window she could see from her position, given that she couldn’t shift in the chair at all.  She couldn’t see the sun anymore.  She was glad Tucker had spotted it earlier, even if it didn’t give them a ton of clues as to where they were going.

They didn’t have to wonder for that much longer, however, because it wasn’t more than five minutes later before a disgustingly pleasant voice announced that they’d be beginning their descent, and that they hoped the landing was just as horrible as the takeoff had been.

Sam glared up at the ceiling as if that was where the voice was and tried to come up with a map in her head.  They really hadn’t been flying for more than an hour.  That wasn’t enough time to get them to Canada, was it?  They couldn’t be much further than Wisconsin.

Once they got off the plane itself, they were taken towards some sort of castle that looked like something her parents could afford to build.  Which might not be that far off in terms of expenses, given there was an actual runway in the back.  Maybe this ghost happened to be a friend of theirs, and this was Sam’s parents’ newest way of threatening her into wearing floral print.

The ghost that had kidnapped and brought them here, however, didn’t seem super keen on answering any questions.  Its only comment before it grabbed them both by the arms and dragged them towards a back door was “I hope you two had a terrible experience,” paired with a supervillain smirk so dramatic it was almost ridiculous.

He clearly was not super worried about being gentle about dragging them, if the ache forming in Sam’s wrist was any indication.  But she didn’t have much time to focus on that.  Instead, as soon as her feet were on the ground, she started looking around for escape strategies, but the ghost was holding their arms way too tightly for running to be an option, and she didn’t feel confident in her ability to get both her and Tucker into the forest surrounding the castle.  Especially considering how far away it was.  The grounds for this place weren’t small.

The castle itself was white brick, with gold roofs and absolutely covered in green flags.  The door they were being dragged to looked like an entrance to a basement of some kind.  Sam glanced over at Tucker to find him looking around too, but after a second he glanced at her with a helpless look on his face, meaning he hadn’t noticed anything she hadn’t.

Sam took a deep breath, and mouthed to Tucker, “On three.”

Tucker bit his lip, clearly scared, but nodded.

Sam brushed past her own fear and looked back on the door.  Their smartest option would probably be to try and break for it when he had to shift his grip in order to hold on to them and go for the handle at the same time.  He’d be doing that any second now, she just had to wait for—

A cold feeling swept over Sam just before she reached the door, and before she could question what that meant the ghost dragged her and Tucker right through the solid door and into the castle.

Sam blinked.  Well.  So much for the shifting his grip plan.

“Uh,” Sam said, looking at Tucker.  “Three!”

Tucker started pulling backwards on the ghost’s arm as Sam did the same, but it didn’t even seem to phase the ghost.  In fact, he looked down at them and laughed in obvious amusement.

“Oh yes, that’s sure to work.  He really hasn’t ever let you near ghosts before, has he?”

Before Sam could figure out what the hell that meant, the ghost floated upwards just far enough to lift Sam and Tucker off the ground, robbing them of any force they could have attempted to use to get away.

Sam, in a last desperate attempt, leaned up to try and bite the ghost’s hand, but the ghost did the same thing to just their hands that he’d done to get them all through the door, and Sam’s teeth went right through it.

She turned to Tucker.  “Okay, you have any other ideas?”

Tucker’s only response was a scared look.

They went through a couple more doors the same way as before, and then the ghost pulled them down through the floor, into some kind of lab.  It looked eerily similar to the one in Danny’s basement, right down to the portal over on the wall.

“Well, I think we’ve made excellent time,” the ghost said, flying them straight over to that very portal.  “Let’s set you both up.”

“Or, we could not do that?” Tucker said nervously.

“Who are you?” Sam snapped, glaring at the weird vampire ghost.  If they weren’t going to escape, she might as well get as much information as possible from him.

“Oh, don’t worry about it child, I’m sure you’ll get a much better explanation from Daniel.”

Sam blinked.  “Danny knows you?”

The vampire ghost didn’t reply, and instead flew over closer to the portal.  Sam leaned back away from the swirling green she had no desire to go through, but before he could toss them inside, she heard a whirring sound, and the portal powered down to leave an empty mechanical tunnel.  Sam glanced over to see… the same vampire ghost?  There were two of them?  The second one, however he was there, was pressing buttons on a box next to the portal.

A box that probably wasn’t supposed to be blinking like that.

“Uh,” Sam said, as the vampire ghost holding on to them carried them into the tunnel.  “You wanna fix your box thingy?”

“No thank you, it’ll be more useful like this for now,” the second vampire ghost said, though Sam couldn’t see him anymore.  “Though it’ll be quite a bit of work to fix the portal after using it for something like this.”  He sighed, like their kidnapping was an inconvenience for him.  “Oh well, can’t be helped.”

The second vampire ghost flew in and took Sam from the first, then carried her over to the side of the tunnel, seeming barely even to notice Sam’s struggles.

He and the other one then strapped her and Tucker to the sides of the portal, and flew off unconcerned.  Sam saw the reason why a moment later, the restraints didn’t budge no matter how much she tugged on them, and she could see Tucker doing the same thing across from her.

“Regret not trying for the parachutes yet?” Sam snapped.

Tucker opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, there was a yell of “VLAD!” and a loud crash from the room outside of the portal.

Both of them turned, and in the part of the room that the portal wasn’t blocking, Sam saw Phantom shooting blasts across the room, presumably towards one of the vampire ghosts.

Tucker let out a relieved sigh.  “Nope, I think we have a better shot now,” he said.

Sam couldn’t blame him.  They may not have ever interacted with Phantom personally, but that didn’t mean they didn’t know what he was capable of.  If Phantom was here to rescue them, they were safe.

Phantom, however, didn’t seem to realize that, because the second he turned and spotted them inside the portal, his eyes widened in surprise and what looked like fear.

…Okay, maybe they should be a little nervous?

Tucker seemed to realize the same thing, as a second later they both went back to struggling.

Phantom started right for them, but one of the vampire ghosts— Vlad, he’d said?— instead slammed into him from the side and out of their view.

Sam couldn’t see what was happening anymore, but she could easily hear them.

“Let them go, Plasmius,” Phantom snapped.

“Or you’ll what?  I’m looking for specifics here, my boy.”

“Specifics?   I’ll smash your teeth in, now let them go!”

There’s a loud sigh.  “No, you see, that’s the kind of thing that makes me think this is necessary in the first place.”

Sam glanced across the portal at Tucker, who shrugged, looking just as lost as her.

There was the sound of an ecto blast, and then Plasmius flew across the room.  Phantom started immediately for the portal again, but before he could reach it, the other vampire ghost shot a blast at him that sent him back out of view again.  The second one then flew after him and reappeared a second later, holding Phantom in a tight restraint that seemed much more difficult to hold than Sam and Tucker’s had been.

Sam tugged hard on the restraints, then stopped when she felt her wrist start to strain in a way that couldn’t be good.

“For the record,” she said to Tucker.  “We totally should have tried for the parachutes.”

Tucker gave her a desperate look.

“Sorry it had to be this way, child,” came Vlad’s voice from out of view, “but you really should get better at solving your problems yourself.”

Phantom looked towards Vlad, apparently long enough to not like what he saw, because then he looked wide-eyed back towards Sam and Tucker— and that was the moment Sam knew they were fucked.

Something behind them in the portal lit up, and Sam turned her head towards it in time to see a bright green light.

Phantom screamed “NO!” loud and desperate, and then Sam’s world erupted.

[esta-elavaris]

Part One [1,592 words]

Prologue is here, I'll make a proper navigation post for it soon!

Jane Eyre inspired Aemond Targaryen fic (except there's no wife in the attic - only Vizzy T and his miniatures) -- I've been meaning to write this for ages and now with the new season around the corner my brain said it is time.

It's not on AO3 for now but I do have a whole load of other fics over there! I'll tag folk in the replies -- hmu if you want to be added to the list!

Dividers by cafekitsune.

A fingertip was tracing the birthmark in the crook of her arm. As the name implied, she’d had it since birth – no bigger than the nail of her little finger, a few shades darker than her skin…and in the distinct shape of the Seven-Pointed Star. Jeyne had never paid it much mind growing up. The novelty of it wore off around the same time that her school-and-orphanage managed to rid her of any silly fantasies that it meant the gods had something fantastic in store for her. In fact, she never thought about it at all until Aemond.

As the bond between them deepened, he’d taken to tracing his fingertips across it just like this – a habit so engrained and unfailing that it almost had the feel of a ritual. A tender ritual, if there ever was such a thing, and one so intimate that she’d almost fancied it felt like a kiss. Up until the first time he did actually kiss her, anyway, and then she realised how silly that thought had been.

But how was she to know? Before him, she’d never been touched in a manner that wasn’t corrective in nature. Not as far as she could recall, at least.

“We’re not at war. We’ve a strong position. Marriage for the sake of an alliance doesn’t seem pressing,” he murmured, his voice so low it was practically a purr as he stroked her arm.

“Princess Rhaenyra is married to your uncle,” Jeyne pointed out in return. “And Prince Aegon to Princess Helena. You’re all they have to offer, should an alliance be needed with a House beyond the Targaryens…or the Velaryons. Your family won’t allow that to be cast aside. Not for me.”

“The King would not,” he agreed readily enough. “But my mother…she might be swayed. She might be sympathetic. She’s fond of you, you know.”

What would fondness help, when the Queen’s word could not override the King’s wishes? If it did, Aegon would have been made heir apparent long ago. Jeyne voiced none of this, though, not wanting to spoil this little haven of peace they carved out for themselves here, together.

“The King’s health has been declining since before I was even born,” Aemond pointed out, his voice lower than a whisper. “But now it’s less of a decline and more of a…freefall.”

Jeyne was dangerously still, where she lounged at his side. What he was saying was barely sidestepping treason, to discuss the death of the King thus. Perhaps it was fine for him to do so, he was the King’s son, but if she joined in? A servant? It wouldn’t be right. Worse than that, it would be stupid.

But, going against their usual way, Aemond was not content to allow her silence. His silken silver hair slipped across his shoulder as he turned his head to regard her with his good eye.

“You’re not a simpleton, Jeyne. You know what I’m saying.”

“Of course I do,” she murmured.

“But you find it distasteful.”

“No! It just…it hardly seems real. Nor likely enough to hope for.”

“You doubt my resolve?” there was a teasing to his tone now that rejection had been ruled out.

“I’d never be so foolish as to do that,” she snorted.

“My affections, then?” the teasing tone remained, but she knew fine well that if she answered poorly the results could be disastrous.

So it was a good thing she tended towards honesty, as a rule.

“No,” she replied. “But I do doubt everybody not in this room – and how enthusiastic they would be to give you what it is you intend to ask for.”

Growing tired of having to keep his head turned if he wanted to see her, Aemond rolled atop her in a flash, his legs tangled amongst her skirts. They did like to kid themselves that so long as they both stayed mostly dressed, they weren’t toying with danger here. How neatly his hips slotted between her thighs said otherwise.

“I don’t intend to ask for anything,” he replied, his nose nudging hers. “I’ll demand it. And I’ll keep demanding it, until I’m granted it.”

“Aemond…think of everything you could lose…”

Her doubt might’ve held more weight if not for how her hands slid up his sides, then around to his back, feeling the wealth of lean muscle beneath the dark undershirt he wore.

“I prefer to think of all I could gain,” he smirked down at her.

“Oh yes, a more advantageous match there never was.”

There was a time when she’d never dare tease him thus – but now it had a fondness gleaming in his eye, maybe because he knew he was one of the very few she’d ever joke with at all, and he kissed her slowly.

“I don’t give a shit about advantages,” he replied simply when he drew back. “Names…gold…alliances…What could any other House bring that House Targaryen doesn’t already have? That we couldn’t just take from them, if we really needed to? With our dragons? But a wife like you, Jeyne?”

He paused then, planting a forearm into the bed beside her to hold his weight, so that he could use his other hand to trace the back of one finger slowly down the side of her face as he continued.

“That can’t be bartered for in the Small Council.”

“Your duty…” she murmured softly.

“My duty is to marry the woman who could best support me as I carry out my role. None could do that more than you.”

Lying there, with his weight pressing down, solid and comforting atop her, she tried to picture all that he promised. Herself, standing by his side in the Great Hall as court was held. Sitting by his side at banquets. Having the dragon-emblazoned cloak of House Targaryen draped across her shoulders in the Sept of Baelor.

Her imagination was seldom disappointing – it was her main source of solace throughout her childhood. But while she could picture all of those things, they felt like they were just that. Daydreams. Incredibly fanciful ones, no less.

And though Aemond only had one eye, it missed nothing, and he caught the doubt on her face easily enough.

“Five years ago, if you were told that you’d find employment in the Red Keep, would you have believed it?”

“Not at all.”

“And on your first day here, did you suspect you’d find yourself here?”

“Of course not. If I could scheme that well, I’d rule the Seven Kingdoms by now.”

“Mm. Maybe one day.”

“I’ve already come so far – risen far higher than my birth should have allowed. How realistic is it to expect more?”

“Realistic,” he echoed with a teasing sort of exasperation on his face. “The last time I set my mind to something this thoroughly, it got me Vhagar. If you can put your faith in nothing else, put it in this. In me.”

The touch at her arm, combined with the warmth in her limbs and the softness of the sheets beneath her, were all more than enough to have reality slipping from Jeyne’s mind. Her lips even parted, ready to murmur to him about the terrible nightmare she’d suffered, when another voice spoke instead.

“I think she’s waking up.”

The voice – that of a woman – opened the gates for reality to sweep in.

Jeyne’s eyes opened, already half-sitting up, but a hand pressed against her shoulder, urging her back down.

“Rest. You’re safe here.”

She was in a large square room, bundled in furs on the floor by the hearth. Before her knelt an older woman with kind grey eyes and dark curly hair, streaked with grey. Her skin was tanned and weatherbeaten – a farmer? If she was, she was well off. The floor beneath her was wooden, rather than dirt, and the walls were made of stone instead of wood.

A fierce gale blew outside, rattling the shutters on their hinges.

“Listen to that,” the woman murmured. “If she’d have been out in that tonight, she’d have died.”

It took Jeyne a moment to realise who she was talking to – another woman, of a similar age, with red hair bound tightly in a bun at the nape of her neck. She sat at the large wooden table at the other end of the room, mending by candlelight.

“I’m sure we’d all survive with one less beggar out there,” she responded without looking up.

“Ignore her,” the brunette said.

Obeying was easy enough, mostly because she was too concerned with looking about for her satchel. She spotted it, discarded by the door, still buckled shut, and the relief left her weak. Or maybe it just left her able to feel the weakness that had always been there.

“If you could just give me some water, please, I can be on my way in a moment,” she rasped.

“You’ll be going nowhere. Not until you recover your strength,” the woman argued firmly. “We’ve space and food aplenty, do not worry. What’s your name?”

“I…” she almost lied – up until she realised doing so might send them through her bag for cues when she next lost consciousness.

Judging by the black spots floating across her vision, that would be soon.

“Jeyne,” she breathed.

“Rest, Jeyne,” the woman urged. “You’re safe with my sister and I.”

She fell back against the furs, the strength sapping out of her limbs, her eyelids fluttering.

“What did you expect?” Aemond had sneered at her, in the end.

The answer was simple: nothing he hadn’t promised her.

[scimitar-and-longsword]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @cactusdragon517 almost a month ago lol, I'm slow to get these done.

How many works do you have on ao3? 21

What's your total ao3 word count? 202,835

What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Call of Duty and I'm still hanging around the TOG fandom. But I've hardly posted anything in years lol. Someday when my toddler is a little older I'll get back into posting more.

Top five fics by kudos:

Share Your Address - Fencer!Joe/TA!Nicky College AU - Insta-love. So much texting. Everybody wants to punch Keane.

It Feels Like Flying - Joe/Pilot!Nicky AU - This is porn. Enjoy.

Brothers Fight - Joe & Booker working through their issues post movie.

Everything I Did to Get to You - Sequel to Share Your Address (my top fic by Kudos) - AU - A few years later Joe and Nicky spend the holidays with friends and family.

Collapsing Walls - Book of Nile!!!!! - Established Booker/Nile - Booker and Nile get caught in a building while trying to assist during an earthquake.

Do you respond to comments? Yes!! I try to respond to all comments for at least a few days after I post something.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't write a lot of angsty ENDINGS. I'll Never Love Another (Prince!Joe/Knight!Nicky) has a fuck ton of angst in it, and I know some people thought the ending was bitter sweet bordering on sad.... but idk (spoilers?) no one died and they're together sooooo that's a happy ending in my book lol.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Gees, idk lol Share Your Address?? It's so sweet you'll get cavities.

Do you get hate on fics? I never have. *knock on wood*

Do you write smut? Hardly ever. I mean I HAVE, and actually the most recent thing I posted was like straight up porn lol. But mostly if there is sex it is only hinted at/fade to black. Or buried in a 60k fic so you have to work for it!

Craziest crossover: Probably Book of Nile + Princess Bride (it's a WIP that I haven't touched in like 3 years *sweats nervously* I swear I will finish all my WIPs EVENTUALLY)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of???

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes!! A one shot I did was translated onto a Japanese website that I forget the name of lol. I've also had a podfic made of one of my one shots if that counts.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Ashley and I tried at one point lol it was a modern AU DinLuke fic.... it kind of fizzled out eventually. @ashleyrguillory we should look at that again someday lol

All time favorite ship? Obligatory "Just one??!!" ok but idk Charlie/Claire (LOST), Korra/Asami (Legend of Korra) and Derek/Stiles (Teen Wolf) are the most important to me??? I read the most fic for Ghost/Soap, [redacted controversial ship that you could not pay me to reveal #1], and [redacted controversial ship that you could not pay me to reveal #2] lol

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I refuse to give up on any of my WIPS!!! I have 4, and all of them are planned/outlined to the end... I even have multiple completed chapters for two of them. I'm not a quitter... I do take my time though lol

What are your writing strengths? Oh gees... idk someone else who has read my stuff needs to tell me this... I think I've gotten a lot of comments complimenting me on keeping characters true to canon?? idk guys! someone else answer this!

What are your writing weaknesses? I really struggle with action and sex scenes. Where are they? I, the person writing this fic, certainly don't know. (come to think of it this might be part of the reason that I don't write a lot of smut)

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Whatever floats the author's boat.

But I personally have done it a few ways. My favorite to both write and read is just to write what they say and then identify what language is being used if the POV character can understand the language. something like: "Oh no," he shouted in Italian.

OR if the POV character doesn't understand the language I would write something like: Nicky shouted something in what Joe thought was Italian. OR Nicky said something in a language Joe couldn't quite place.

First fandom you wrote in? Supernatural lol

Favorite fic you've written? One????? You're getting 2!

I'll Never Love Another - Prince!Joe/Knight!Nicky AU - SO MUCH LETTER WRITING - This was my Big Bang in 2021, and I love the FUCK out of it. It's my favorite fic I've ever written and I reread it kind of often because of how much I enjoy it lol

Impelled by the Persuasion of Love - Canon verse Joe/Nicky and Andy/Quynh - Takes place in France during the 100 years war. I have an obsession with courtly love/chivalry and figured I should shove it onto our favorite immortals <3 - I wrote this for a TOG zine that came out in early 2021

=== Truly, IDK if I've got 20 people to tag but I'll give it a go!!

@innerslumber, @alloutofgoddesses, @ashleyrguillory, @stevethehairington, @sindirimba, @disregardandfelicity and anybody else who wants to do this, consider this your tag!!!

[strawwritesfic]

Enma Kozato x Female!Vongola!Reader: Coda

Summary: Can we try again?

Rating/Warnings: T (post-Inheritance Ceremony arc; Friends to Lovers; Enemies to Lovers; Love Confessions; Face Slapping; Slapping; Delivery Person!Reader; Adelheid & Enma; Adelheid/Julie)

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: I've been in a Reborn mood lately, reviving some old OCs of mine with a friend via email. I'm even rereading what little of the official English translation manga there is. So I thought I'd brush off some of my old one shots for the series and post them, especially since I've had such kind feedback on the ones I've got on my Tumblr.

This was written back when I was in college, so probably circa 2011/2012. I did polish it up for this repost! Although there's really no helping the abrupt ending. I suppose I could have tacked something on, but the style would be so obviously different that it would really only make the original ending seem even more painful.

The reader character is based on (and originally written as) an OC in a roleplay group that I was in on DeviantArt at the time. I no longer recall the username, but credit where credit is due, so much as I can give it. The character's name was LaRae Souma.

Coda

Enma’s heart had never beat so wildly in his chest. Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump. In the silence of the growing evening surrounding him, the noise felt abnormally loud. He lifted a trembling hand to his chest and pressed it against his rib cage.

“Why are you doing this?” he mumbled.

His heart, of course, gave no answer. Or maybe it did. Maybe its attempts to tear itself free from his insides were its way of telling him how downright crazy this entire plan was. Whatever the reason, Enma really wished his traitorous organ would stop. This whole situation was hard enough without adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Trying to calm down was a vain effort. Enma knew that. He’d been trying to do whatever that would take since school got out hours ago. How many girls had passed by, giggling because of how weird he looked standing at the gate? How many bullies had come by to exact their “standing” tax?

Maybe that was why his heart was still going crazy. Maybe he was finally running out of blood, and this was its last, desperate attempt to get what was left to the rest of his body before it gave out. Enma supposed that wouldn’t be too bad, really. At least if he was dead he wouldn’t be picked on anymore. He wouldn’t fail any more tests, either. And, for the love of God, he would not have to do what he was planning to do next.

The bag at his side buzzed. His head turned toward it. He blinked before slowly plucking his cell phone from the bag's pocket. Who would be calling him now? It was nearly dark, and the Vongola had no reason to contact him.

“Hello?” he said.

“Enma. Are you all right? It’s late.”

Oh. It was only Adelheid, then. He probably should have known, but Aoba had stolen his phone and changed all the contacts to pictures of himself flipping the camera off, so now Enma had no way to tell who anyone calling him actually was.

“She hasn’t been by.” He stared down the street again. Still no shadows appeared to be growing against the bright red sky. “Maybe she’s not coming.”

“It’s nearly dark. I would say she’s not.”

“She could be working overtime.”

“Enma, just come home. We’ll order more food, and you can talk to her then.”

“I don’t want to say it front of Julie.”

“He’s not going to say anything. If he does, I’ll hit him.”

"I'll wait a little longer.”

“Okay.” This time, her voice sounded a little warmer. “Call me when you’re on your way home.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

He ended the conversation with a simple push of a button. Why hadn’t he taken the out Adelheid offered him? This was her idea to begin with, and Enma was seriously beginning to doubt her understanding of the matter. Her relationship wasn’t really comparable to his. All Julie had to do was grope her every once in a while.

Oh, God, was he going to have to grab your breasts? Did you even have those? It had been so long since he'd seen you that he didn’t remember. And Adelheid usually still slapped Julie when he did that. Enma didn’t really feel like being slapped. 

Was this what hyperventilating felt like? He had never done it before, so he didn’t know.

A rapid tapping came from down the vacant street. Enma looked up. Running down the shadowed walk was a figure moving at a quick pace. He stood straighter. Was it you? It had to be. His hands had started to sweat again. This did not make him feel any less like an idiot. He wiped them on his pants. That only made it worse; now he had wet patches on his legs.

The figure continued to draw nearer. The golden pool of light surrounding him was soon the one they stepped into, bringing their features were placed in high relief. [Color] hair, [color] eyes, waitress uniform. Yes, that was definitely [F Name] [L Name]. It didn’t take the painful lurch in his heart to tell him that much.

The moment of recognition must have been shared because you froze mid-step, one leg stuck awkwardly in the air. Enma reached up to ruffle the back of his head. Now he was completely lost. What was he supposed to do? You were just staring at him like he was a particularly disgusting bug that had fallen directly in your path.

Then your expression hardened. Your normally warm eyes he grown so accustomed to turned more brittle as you smacked your heel back down against the pavement. For a split second, he thought you were going to say something. Instead, you started moving again, your movements now choppy and stiff.

“[Name],” he said as you passed. 

You didn’t even spare him a second glance. 

“[Name]!” 

You did not even so much as twitch in his direction. 

Enma sighed. Now what was he supposed to do? Adelheid hadn’t described her plan past his finally making contact with you. Still, he was not the same boy you had known a year ago. Steeling himself, he moved off the wall and into step beside you. It was only be the grace of God that he didn’t fall flat on his face doing so.

"[Name].”

"What?” He had never heard you speak with that much venom in your voice before, at least not directed at him. He gulped. Maybe this was a dumb idea.

"I need to talk to you.”

“I’m in the middle of a delivery.”

“I know. It's for me.”

Thankfully, this was enough to get your attention. Once again, you stopped completely, though at least this time you remembered to put you foot down. Your mouth fell open in an “o.” Then you narrowed your eyes.

“What do you mean, it’s for you?” you asked.

“I ordered it. Can I have it, please?”

“No! I’m not giving you anything!”

“I’m going to pay for it.”

You continued to watch him for a few more seconds, then tossed the container at his head. Enma flailed. The box knocked straight into his temple before falling open on the ground. 

“Fine, then!" you snapped. "Eat it! See if I care!”

“Thank you,” Enma murmured. 

He bent down to retrieve the contents of whatever food he had asked for. He was so nervous that he didn’t remember, nor did he think he’d actually be able to stomach it if he tried. If he remembered correctly, most girls didn’t think it was cool when boys threw up their food. Once he had the scattered contents all gathered, he rummaged in his pocket until he found the wad of cash he had stuffed in it that morning–more than enough for both his food and a decent tip for you. 

“Your money." He held it out to you.

You said nothing as you snatched the cash out of his hand. And then you stood there. And continued standing there. Apparently you were intending to watch him eat the food. 

Groaning inwardly, Enma picked up the chopsticks and dug in without looking at what he was digging into. It was probably good, but he didn’t get to taste much before he started to choke. Seemingly satisfied with this development, you hopped on the wall and crossed your legs, the better to see him.

“Why’d you order from there anyway? Thought I didn’t work there anymore?” you asked.

“N-No,” Enma stammered. He was still coughing up bits of rice. “I needed to talk to you.”

“So you ordered food from my workplace?”

“It was the only way I could talk to you. You were avoiding me.”

“Because I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Right.” 

Enma gazed forlornly at his eating utensils. Why had he done this? Of course you didn’t want to talk to him. After what he did…The look of betrayal on your face as you stood there with the rest of your family, the way your eyes seemed to grow dim as you watched him mutilate your friends…His gut clenched every time he thought of it. Who was he kidding with this? You weren't going to want to hear him out. You didn’t even want to be his friend anymore.

He took a deep breath and looked up toward you. It looked like he was still Loser Enma after all. What he realized, however, was that you were no longer looking away. Instead you had the full force of your glare on him. He flinched.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

There could be a million things he hadn’t told you that you were asking about, each a worse secret than the one before. But Enma thought he had a pretty good idea what you were talking about. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he said.

“And why would I get hurt?”

He licked his lips. “My family…what we were doing…”

“Yeah, it was pretty stupid,” you snarled. “And thank you so much for showing such faith in me.”

“I didn’t want you to tell Tsuna. It was important. What if you said something and they found out?

You snapped straight up. Enma stumbled backward, managing to stay on his feet but spill what was left of his meal. This did nothing to stop you. In one easy movement, you jumped off the ledge, landed on your feet, and marched up to him. For a moment, all you did was look into his eyes. Then you launched yourself forward and started trying to smack every bit of him you could reach.

“Are you kidding me?" You all but shrieked. "I thought you trusted me! I thought I was your friend!”

“Ouch. [Name]. Stop." 

Your punches, if anything, merely increased in number. Enma groaned. What would Aoba and Julie say if they saw him now? Probably something along the lines of “You’re totally whipped!” Without thinking, he grabbed your wrists. You sucked in a breath. He supposed he had surprised you. The him of a year ago wouldn’t have tried to defend himself at all. One split second later, however, and you were back on the offense.

“You.” You tugged. “Are.” You tugged harder still. “Such a jerk, Enma Kozato!” You arched backward as far as you could. Still he did not let you go.

“I know," he said. "I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough! I don’t care what you have to say to me. Just go away!”

Enma took a deep breath. Now was good as ever. He didn’t think you were going to let him stick around much longer anyway. “I think I love you.”

The anger drained slowly from your face. Feeling that it might be safe to let you go, Enma released your wrists at last. He stuffed his now-free hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. The silence stretched on for several more minutes, and then there was a sudden whoosh and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

Enma’s eyes went wide. The sound of the slap echoed in the empty road.

“That’s for avoiding me for a year!” When he looked up, you were rubbing at your wrist and scowling. “Did you think I was going to yell at you?”

“Well, you’re doing a good job of it now,” he said as he pressed his palm against his stinging cheek.

“Because, Enma, you are an idiot.” You scowled at him again, then whirled on your heel and marched over to your delivery box. Without looking at him, you continued, but he noticed your voice was quavering a bit when you spoke: “If you’re just going to say empty words, then you can leave me alone. For good this time.”

“They weren't empty.” he mumbled at the ground. Enma thought that maybe he heard you pause before going on your way. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

Before you could answer–if you were going to answer, which he didn’t believe could be true at all–he started shuffling away. He didn’t get far before he managed to trip and crash face-first into the sidewalk. A sickening crunch sound coming from his nose told Enma that he had just seriously screwed up. Perhaps it would be best if he just stayed there in the dirt until you left. He didn’t want the last thing you saw of him to be the blood spilling profusely from his face.

“Enma? Are you okay?” 

Oh, crud, you were standing right above him. He craned his neck so he could see, trying to make sure you couldn’t get a look at the newest disfigurement on his face. You knelt down next to him and then dragged him to his feet.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

You frowned. “No, I will worry about it. Sit down.” 

You pushed down on his shoulder and Enma obeyed without thinking. What were you doing? Why were you still talking to him? Hadn’t you already left, glad to have him out of your life? While he was pondering all of this, you were digging around in your own bag. A few moments later, you pulled out a first aid kit. 

Enma leaned back. “You don’t have t–”

“Yes, I do.” 

Enma fell silent as you began to work on him. It almost felt like old times, except for the part where the girl he was in love with hated him. He could probably do without that. Well, that and the broken nose.

“Hold still. I’m going to set it. It’ll hurt.” 

He braced himself. Sure enough, you pressed your fingers onto both side of his nose and pushed. There was a loud pop and pain streamed into his face. Enma lifted his hand to feel his nose.

“Why did you…?”

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” you asked.

“Y-yes.” Did you find him terribly stupid? Were you going to laugh at him? 

You turned, face hidden as you placed your kit back in your bag. “Then why didn’t you talk to me for so long?”

“I was afraid you hated me. I didn’t want that.”

“I didn’t. I just wanted to hear from you. When I called and you didn’t answer…” You trailed off. He could see your eyes again. They were filling with tears. “I thought we were friends.”

“You’re my best friend, [Nickname].”

"It doesn’t feel like it.”

Enma stared at you. You looked away and dabbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “I’m sorry.” 

You didn’t answer. 

His eyes darted about the street. What he was about to do was risky, but maybe it would work out? Maybe this time he could actually do it. Maybe this time he wouldn’t be a loser. “[Name].”

You looked back. He shifted his bag so it was behind him, then opened his arms. You gawked at him, and he lifted them slightly. For a few more seconds, you did not move. Another flurry of anxiety rushed through him. Was he being dumb? Should he put his arms down? Were you just going to hit him again?

You blinked back another set of tears. Then you leaped forward and threw yourself into his arms. Enma closed them around you, shut his eyes, and buried his face into your soft hair.

“I love you, [Name]. Can I try again?”

“Only if you promise,” you sniffed, “to never lie to me again.”

Enma smiled. “I promise.”

In return, you wrapped your arms around him. “I love you, too, Enma.”

[erisenyo]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @noexoozes for the tag!!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 40!! Though a few of them are drabbles/shorter things from tumblr that I've been slowly porting over, so without those its 32

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 1,638,585 lol holy shit

3. What fandoms do you write for? ATLA! Though I'm thinking about having a go at the Radiant Emperor for @radiantemperorweek if my schedule allows it 🤞I've also been Consumed lately by a particularly pairing of the Game Changers series by Rachel Reid, with a few specific things I'd love to see that were offscreen in the books, so we shall see there as well...

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Love is in the Hair - post-canon established Zukka, one-shot, banter, silliness, identity shenanigans with people not realizing they're sharing political gossip with the Fire Lord

These Things Written - part one of the series that started it all, "what if Zukka was canon", three-part full series rewrite, lots of angst, lots of smut, lots of feels (and technically the next two parts are also on this list, but instead-)

Lessons in Proper Asset Management - post-canon established Zukka, smutty one-shot, Sokka's competence kink vs Zuko being really good at finance, absurdity ensues

Part-Time Plumber, Full-Time Problem - Modern AU smutty Zukka one-shot, based on a grindr exchange about needing a wrench, identity shenanigans, banter, and Mai and Suki absolutely roasting their respective BFFs

Ten Rules For Sleeping With You - canon and post-canon get-together > established relationship fic, all the things Sokka has learned when it comes to sleeping next to Zuko

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I am very behind right now, but I appreciate the time and thought people put into them so much, and I love chatting back!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ohh I love a happy ending, so this is hard. Its probably Darling I Think There's Maybe Something You Should Know, part of my Zukki series where we end with Sokka and Suki realizing Zuko doesn't think they're together, and has been going on other dates.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I love a happy ending, so this is hard in a different way! I'll go with To Be Named, To Be Known (To Be Loved), because ending with a big wedding and laughter just sets a particular mood :)

8. Do you get hate on fics? I wouldn't classify it as hate as much as people occasionally disagreeing with certain characterization, usually Iroh or Katara from the Burning Bright series, and having a lot of feelings about it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Lol you bet I do. And basically all of it? I think the only thing I haven't written technically is f/f and that's just because I haven't had time for my foursome get-together fic yet

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not yet and I'm not sure I will, sometimes the framework of two stories fits well together, but I tend more toward AUs than crossovers

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! These Things Written was translated into Russian

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Technically Night Call, though that was more like tumblr posting back and forth that suddenly got long enough for AO3 haha

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? I primarily write Zukka, but I have so many favorites! I love Zukki, Jetko is great, my Jeeko longfic idea has had me in its grips for years, there are ships across other fandoms I love to read. I'm a multishipper at heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I...don't actually have any of these. I only post thing when they're already finished, and I don't do well writing multiple works at one time, so I tend to just finish things sequentially rather than have a bunch of WIPs floating around. (Ideas that I want to write but may never...that's a whole different question.)

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm really good at writing fun smut scenes that still back a lot of emotional punch, and I love dialogue! I also think I'm good at inverting tropes and reader expectations in fun ways to draw out/build narrative tension.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions, probably. I struggle to make place and people descriptions feel integrated into the next, rather than like clunkily bolted on. Usually I feel like its interrupting the pacing and I end up cutting it significantly back.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I'd be cautious of it if I didn't speak it myself, unless I was trying to represent someone with a similar level of competency, just because there are so many nuances of word choice and sentence structure and translation that would probably go over my head.

19. First fandom you wrote for? ATLA!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? This is impossible to answer! I love them all so much in such different ways. To Open Every Door to Night, To Meet Each Rising Sun will always be up there, writing Azula was so much fun. I think Of Tea and Turtle Ducks (and the Turtle Duck Guy) absolutely knocked the whole overarching metaphor out of the park, To Cleave These Roots We've Made is maybe my best like angst/emotional intensity fic, All Along You Were There (But I Missed It) just delivered on the mood and vision I had so well and showcased this warm romance so perfectly, and I'm really cheating so I'm going to make myself stop there haha

And lets see, tagging @sword-and-stars @spacecasehobbit @ranilla-bean @lizardlicks @hot-flippin-mess and anyone else who wants to play!

[emyn-arnens]

20 Questions for Writers

@hobbitwrangler @grey-gazania @runawaymun @echo-bleu tagged me to do this, so I guess I really should do it! I did this one recently on my main for all the fandoms I've written for, so I'll keep this limited to Tolkien fics here.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 82.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 128,198.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently mostly Tolkien, with the occasional dash of Timeless and Narnia.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

As the Hare Flees Before the Wolf (T, Celegorm & Eöl, 1.8k): Curufin is not the only son of Fëanor Eöl meets upon the plains of Himlad. Or, Eöl meets Celegorm while pursuing Aredhel and Maeglin, and things go very badly for him.

Here at Journey's End (G, Frodo & Legolas, 1.6k): They stay for those they love.

West, West Away (G, Sam & Thranduil, 3.6k): Sam meets an unlikely kindred spirit on the journey West.

and I will love with urgency, but not with haste (T, Aegnor/Andreth, 3.1k): A summer evening spent in a glade near the shores of the Aeluin.

with death on his brow like a crown (G, Aegnor & Finrod, ~600 words): Five times Finrod foresees Aegnor’s death, and one time he foresees his own.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep! It may take a while depending on spoons, but I almost always do. The only exceptions are for comments that make no sense to me or demand me to write more for a pairing.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? There's a lot of contenders for this, but let's go with Like a Wave That Should Engulf the World (G, Faramir/Éowyn, ~700 words), in which Faramir foresees Éowyn's coming death.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? For Charity (Boromir, Faramir, Éomer, Lothíriel, and Éowyn, 2k), for sure. Two thousand words of pure ridiculousness.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not since ye olde days of posting on FFN.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Very rarely and very vanilla, with emotions and metaphor taking precedence over mechanics.

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope. Not much into reading or writing them.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? *looks at header, url, and blog title* I don't think I even need to say.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? For the sake of answering the question, my Glorfinwyn AU, but only because I'm not sure I have the skills to pull it off, and my perfectionism is a raging beast. But I do really want to finish it, even if it's three years from now because I'm the slowest writer I know.

16. What are your writing strengths? Characterization and description/scenery, although I've been struggling with the latter lately. Dialogue has finally been getting easier, though.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot, body language, and describing emotions.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I'll sprinkle in some individual words/pet names (all shamelessly ripped from RealElvish.net) here and there that should be guessable from context clues. I don't do full sentences very often both because I feel it isn't necessary most of the time (sorry JRRT), and because I know people don't enjoy having to scroll to the notes for translations. But I will admit to having a weakness for Elves lapsing into their native tongues during uh. heated moments with their partners.

19. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR, years ago. And here I am back again!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? This is so hard, but Over Seas of Starlight (G, Frodo & Gandalf, 3.6k) is near and dear to my heart. Sailing West, my beloved.

Tagging @sotwk @afaramir @halfelven @curufiin if you haven't done this already!

[winderlylandchime]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @lostcol and @madsworld15 thank you friends!

How many works do you have on ao3? 49

What's your total ao3 word count? 505,173

What fandoms do you write for? Currently Queer As Folk. In the past I've also written for CMBYN and CMBYN RPF.

Top five fics by kudos:

tied to a night they never met (CMBYN RPF)

I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules (CMBYN RPF)

Flo's Shows (CMBYN RPF)

you're like a tattoo (something I can't undo) (QAF)

'cause all I'll ever by is your dirty computer (CMBYN RPF)

Do you respond to comments? I do. Especially because I write for a smaller fandom, most of the commenters are my friends.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ya girl wrote MCD so that's pretty angsty: love is so short (forgetting is so long) (QAF)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my recent fics have happy endings (usually at a party, call it my signature move). I'll link carried me with you (QAF) because people said the ending made them cry (in a happy way). And it's not at a party!

Do you get hate on fics? Not hate but some people were unhappy with I crossed all the lines (linked above) because I left the couple non-monogamous and I got negative comments in the bookmark of my series Exposure (QAF) because it is similar to a friend's series (never mind me mentioning her by name in my author's notes and having her blessing and encouragement to write the series) and because it has an open ending (not with regards to the couple but with regards mental health stuff... which is realistic)

Do you write smut? Yes. I enjoy reading it so I figure I should write what I enjoy. One of the drawbacks of writing in a small fandom where so many of my readers are friends is that I do sometimes hold back on the smutty filth I would write because I can literally picture my readers' faces and that's a bit uncomfortable.

Craziest crossover: I'm writing a QAF / RPDR crossover fic right now ("writing" in the very loosest definition of the word).

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I would love that. What an honor.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Er. Yes. I wrote [redacted] with [redacted] but then [redacted] happened and yada yada yada my name isn't on that fic anymore. I'm not anti-co-writing. But, I would need to know my co-writer much better in advance if I were to agree to it again in the future.

All time favorite ship? Brian/Justin aka Britin from QAF. I also LOVE reading Aziraphale/Crowley from GO but haven't really written for them (one drabble and one ficlet).

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've Loved Her in Secret, I've Loved Her Out Loud WILL GET FINISHED (manifesting) soooo not that. And there's a CMBYN RPF fic that is unfinished and will remain that way and I'm okay with that (ie I don't want to finish it)

What are your writing strengths? FEELINGS. My bread and butter.

What are your writing weaknesses? I think I'm getting better at dialogue, I used to really struggle with it. So I'm going to say... plot? That's such a weird thing to say, but I am shit at doing complex plots.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? If it makes sense, do it! Or even words in another language - I know I often slip Italian and Yiddish into conversation here and there if the other language captures a certain je ne sais quoi that english doesn't. (see what I did there?)

First fandom you wrote in? Ya girl was writing Lois/Clark | Superman fic (het fic? by this queer? more likely than you think!) for Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman in the 90s on yahoo listservs.

Favorite fic you've written? I'm very proud of you're like a tattoo (linked above). I'm also proud of beautiful like the darkness between the fireflies some post-canon, modern setting, exes-to-lovers, soft QAF goodness. And I'm also ridiculously happy with Chasing Dragons which is a fanfic of a fanfic but I think stands alone. I feel like I captured the way one of my all-time favorite fic writers writes my all-time favorite characters and I made her ridiculously happy with it and yeah.

I'm no pressure tagging: @sheisraging @bartbarthelme and anyone else who wants to!

[a-trans-werewolf-in-london]

˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦 ˚☽˚｡⋆A Trans WereWolf In London˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦 ˚☽˚｡⋆ ˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦 ˚☽˚｡⋆Intro post˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦 ˚☽˚｡⋆ Hello there! I'm A trans Werewolf in London and you can refer to me as either Charlie or Dan (Reasonings in a sec) and this is My sideblog to posting things Canine related! Lets get started on what you all need to know about me then :3

⋆˚🐾˖°⋆˚🐾˖°⋆˚🐾˖°Key Information⋆˚🐾˖°⋆˚🐾˖°⋆˚🐾˖° -my name is Charlie/Dan, If you know me personally or follow this blog from Therian Guide I heavily advise you use these names going forward. I prefer to use these names to keep myself Anonymous from those who could know me, as I know that they are Tumblr. - I have to admit, both of these names have different Origins for me: Charlie is purely because of the Character from heartstopper, Its a piece of fiction I actively like. I chose Dan for my other name as it is the name for my werewolf oc (He's also technically alterhuman). I'm planning on doing some writing exercises on my writing account @seraphimsrevenge using him to create body horror through physical transformation.

-I use He/They/It/Xe pronouns, but if thats too difficult He/Him will do well enough on me. I am Currently reworking on a pronouns page so that I can delve into specifics but thats not done yet. -I should note that I am 16, so if you have minors DNI in your bio you shouldnt really be following me (This has happened before somehow) -Another thing I should note, is that I am autistic and have suspected ADHD and Dyslexia, I'm sometimes not good with English so I hope that you can bear with me as I struggle to spell. I should also note again that I'd prefer it if people were to use Tone Indicators around me the next section is going to be focusing on my identity as an Alterhuman.

𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦My Alterhuman Identity𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦𓃦 Like I have stated I am part of the Alterhuman community, I personally believe that I am a therian. I awakened around early April (if I remember correctly) during a bad spot in my life, this bad spot I hence believe led to my awakening as a way to potentially have some calm in my life in a way. Around this time I would begin to experience multiple dream shifts, At first I saw a figure that I thought was a Labrador, but I have my doubts now, the figure is now more canine like and as much as I do want to find the specific species, I am content with just being a Canine. The only features I can remember exactly is the black fur, and pointed ears and a tail. I also had begun to get phantom shifts, I began to feel more canine like, feeling those typical ears and tail, I could feel their movement and believed it was so real that I could feel them. I couldn't, and that is a thing that still makes me upset. There are times during these shifts that it gets so bad that I try to touch them, or am scared someone would see. But obviously they are not there. I would say Phantom shifts are some of my most common shifts. Although Since I am coming out of a period of deep repression of my identity I am unsure. I have also had mental shifts, these normally take a toll on me however, but I do feel more free in my more Canine mindset, I feel myself. these tend to flair up in areas of stress, but can also happen by themselves, so it is my most recent shift after embracing my identity again. There are sometimes I believe I had another life, I was a canine, yet everything is still blurry. However I think the main reason for my therianthropy is because of the fact I had a dog a child. I practically grew up with up her and learnt her ways, I felt so connected to her in a way that transcended a normal pet, I could relate to her, like I could see life through her eyes. So that is why I think I am a therian. Now lets get into the final Part of this introduction! What Tags I'll use and the content they will be used for!

𐂯🐾🐾𐂯🐺𐂯🐾My posts/Tags🐾𐂯🐺𐂯🐾🐾𐂯 #BarkNoBite🐾 = my tag I will Always use #MorningBarks🐾 = If I remember to do so I will whish you all a good morning with a canine image #SleepyWhines🐾 = If I remember before I fall asleep I will whish you all goodnight #CanineInLondon🐾 = A tag relating to my shifts #DansCanineMemories🐾 = If I ever get more info on this past life that I have felt and seen in my dreams then I will use this tag #DansCanineTheories🐾 = My tag of my Therianthropy experiences, all to my origins to my own theories of therianthropy #RunningWithTheWolves🐾 = dedicated to me posting about being a canine, typically sh!tposts about it #MascBites🐾 = Normally content focusing my Masculinity with my Canine self --> Technically can be seen as forcemasc content depending on the severity but it will be SFW.

🐾Closing thoughts🐾 Thank you if you were brave enough to read all of this, But even if you skim read this I hope you appreciate. Have a nice day and See you until I post again :3

[svedupelle]

the random antisemitism on my dash from you fucking blew, that post literally has someone saying death to jews in the notes

Im guessing this is the post ur talking about and that this is the comment u mean

(if not, and someone somewhere in the tags said word for word "death to jews", then i didnt spot it. But more importantly, you understand that i am not responsible for that person writing those words, right? and that i may have reblogged that post not because of what some rando said in the tags that i didnt check beforehand, but because of what the post is actually about? which is the state of Isr*el's continued atrocities against palestinians, and more specifically the morbid humor in some random isr*elian on the internet being blind to the real extent of their nations descent into despotism and violence? Just so we're clear about the subject matter of the post)

Anyway. so if that is indeed the comment ur saying meant to say death to jews, then it would seem ur confused about something. Namely zionism *isn't* the same thing as judaism. let's start with the fucking dictionary:

So merriam-webster agrees with me that being a zionist is not the same as being jewish. And quite frankly, it can't be, since unless if we want to posit that gentiles have an inherent and innate opposition to the jewish people having a nation of their own, then it must be possible and true that gentiles can also support a nation of Isr*el, and therefore, can be zionists. And I don't personally believe that not being jewish inherently makes you hateful of jews and opposed to a peaceful existence alongside and together with them. I doubt you do either, considering.

So, we've basically already established that being a zionist does not automatically make one jewish, which means that calling for the death of all zionists does not mean you are calling for the death of all jews.

On the other hand, it would make sense for a lot of zionists to *be* jewish, thus meaning that you are calling for the death of, if not all, then at a least a lot of jews. Now i hate pedophiles. IF we were to imagine a world where 60% of pedophiles were jewish, and i said i think pedophiles should die, i do not believe it would be antisemitic, because i would arguing for the death of pedophiles *regardless* of a majority of them being jewish. Similiarly, the person calling for the death of all zionists is probably doing so independantly of a lot of zionists being jews (maybe, i didnt check to see if there are any statistics on that and im not about to, because this is mostly hypothetical anyway).

"But 'zionist' is just a dogwhistle for jewish, so they do mean death to all jews!"

Then let's take a look at the first part of their comment: "death to the illegal settler colonial state of Isr*el"

now im no expert. but i do believe they may be referring to the aforementioned atrocities and the current apartheid that palestinians endure under the rule of Isr*el. Personally i find it reasonable and to some degree expected of people to condemn these acts. Maybe calling for the death of living people is extreme, but either way, i dont think this person is calling for the death of jews, specifically.

Or maybe they are. Maybe the person in the notes is a big antisemite. I dont know. I dont feel like digging through their blog to check. What I do feel more strongly about is the fact that you worded your ask in a way that suggests you know me, since you expect better from me. Whether ur a follower or a mutual, it makes me incredibly sad that you felt the need to send this through anon instead of a dm. maybe its intimidating or something, but getting this ask doesnt feel like a dialogue, it just feels rude. u didnt even greet me first

i'll make it clear: i have no ill will towards jews. at all. i very much want for all jews across the world and especially in my country to be able to live their lives free from the prejudice, hatred and trauma that they may suffer as a result of antisemitism at the hands of people like myself. i dont know how to make this clearer

i do not support the nation of isr*el. i dont like its actions, i dont like its leaders. i am a firm believer in the fact that until the nakba ends, there will never be a worthy argument for the nation's continued existence. and i do not like how people intentionally misconstrue criticisms of it as antisemitic to condemn the critic, such as what you are doing.

The fact that you seem to be familiar with me annoys me. i despise letting people down. i always do my best not to do so, and always wish to be reliable. but you're annoying. so either dm me if you want to have a real discussion, or block me. read this before you go though, its somewhat interesting. now fuck off

[baahsu]

in my thinking about yonjis absurd strength era so woe yonji focused vscest appreciation post be upon ye

or more so specifically appreciation of how *easily* he could overpower pretty much all his siblings?? the only one we've seen be able to injure him in canon is sanji so he might be the exception but yk sanjis too much of a bottom to really fight back anyway lol

just. hear me out. yonji wanting to fuck a certain sibling and just.. looking at them for a moment before walking over to them, effortlessly picking them and then hauling them to the nearest private area. like imagine the first time this'd happen!!!

timeline wise he'd probably do it to niji first?? maybe yonji was watching niji flirting with a few service girls and then got unknowingly jealous- leading to him walking over and picking up niji in one arm, hauling his ass over his shoulder and bringing him to one of their bedrooms. niji was probably beating his hands against his back the whole time- face red, voice high pitched with embarrassment, and punches getting more and more aggressive until he was thrown onto a bed and *forced* to shut up.

idk i just think yonji should fuck niji dumb sometimes to get him to shut his noisy ass up 😌😌 niji deserves to be edged and teased to tears- not get fucked into oblivion- but hes hot as a bottom so ig he gets a pass. by the end of it i doubt he could talk, too high on good sex to form anything coherent… bimbo energy…

cant decide if reiju or ichiji would be next timeline wise but I'll go ichiji so reiju can start The Whipping post wci <3<3

but even saying that idrk what scenario would lead yonji to picking up ichi… uhhh hmm maybe… post 14ji mission the two r alone together and ichiji takes off his raidsuit in front of yonji, leaving him butt ass naked (a common occurrence that happens btwn the siblings even pre when they started fucking lol) and yonji is suddenly struck with the Vinsmoke Horny Gene™ which leads to him robotically walking over and picking ichi up :))

methinks yonji would pick ichiji up by folding his hands under his ass and trusting ichiji to wrap his legs around his waist (which ichi does, all while looking through his shades at yonji like "??" bc while hes not complaining/worried he IS confused lmao) this eventually leads to yonji carrying ichiji to the nearest bed, setting him down and just start *ravishing* him. by the end of it they're both numb (in a good way) and panting and ichiji looks over and says "Why didn't you just ask?" with yonji replying back w something along the lines of "Idk actually, you're just really hot." ichijis satisfied enough with that answer :]]

OKAY wci and sanji next <3<3

this ones easy for me- germa/124ji get sanj back and ofc immediately start wanting to fuck him upon seeing how hot hes become and sanji, while admittedly VERY confused and frightened, is like 'sure??' cause 124ji is hot and sex is sex lol. so sanjis walking (more like limping am i right :3c) around germa maybe a day or two before arriving at wci and yonjis just struck with the need to fuck him and fuck him *up* before he loses the vinsmoke name. so yonji walks over, throws that pretty boys ass into a firemans carry, and laughs as sanji is unable to fight back with his legs in that position.

yonji just drags him to a bedroom and throws him down before continuting to make sanji see stars- both because sanji looks good and pretty moaning underneath him and also bc this is kinda yonjis own fucked-up-horny-way of apologizing for all the bs he and 12ji put him thru. fuck away the trauma fahjkhjkklsas.. by the end of it sanjis only half conscious- covered in hickeys with a steady stream of blood coming out his nose and a stupid doped out smile on his face.. yonji likes that look on em

aaand last but not least mommy reijuuu <3<3<3

admittedly this one is more fluffy than smutty but 0&4 dynamic have a very specific place of joy in my heart so let me have this lol. so reijus out tryin on new clothes, yonji tagging along as her pack mule bc she promised him a reward 👀 for doing so, but as she walks out to keep showing off the outfits shes trying on (yonji just says they all look hot on her lmao) yonji eventually notices a creepy looking group of guys eyeing her up. now ofc reiju can take care of herself but.. whenever one of the dudes eyes linger too long on reijus ass whenever she walks out in a mini skirt well thats just too far for yonji. he straight up walks over to reiju, (gently) picks her up bridal style, and punches the douchebags through the wall on his way out. no they didnt pay for the clothes but the hells the store owner gonna do?? contest the man who put a hole in his wall??

anyways yonji carries her all the way back to a germa ship and only sets her down once they're alone and secure inside a bedroom- and reiju is IMMEDIATELY on him the second he puts her down (she could've gotten out of the hold anytime mind you- it was just a really sweet gesture so she didn't want to <3) her littlest brother?? showing concern for his nee-chan??? oh he deserves a reward :)) (his reward is being teased touched and ridden until hes screaming and drooling and laughing like a sex drunk idiot <3<3) what can reiju say?? that was a big step in yonjis journey of being able to Feel ofc she was gonna spoil him for a day ;]

HHAHA8AGIAH I PUT THIS IN A WORD DOC AND ITS LIKE OVER 1K WORDS LONG I AM SO SORRY 🙏🙈🙉

NO DON'T BE SORRY THIS IS THE BEST YONJI RELATED THING I'VE EVER READ EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS PERCEFT AND HOT AND DID I SAY PERFECT????

And it's even better because by the end he's starting to feel and omgkdjfksdfj but everything before that was so incredible too, his dynamic with each of the siblings was so accurate to me, I've never read 1k words so fat in my life, I WAS DEVOURING THIS

Niji being sort of tamed by yonji is incredibly hot, ichiji 100% trusting yonji is incredibly hot too, sanji having that starstruck look on him while covered in his nosebleeds is also incredibly hot and so reiju rewarding yonji. I'M ON MY KNEES OVER HERE, THANK YOU FOR THIS MASTERPIECE

[universeofgalacia]

Hello! The Universe of Galacia is the collective name I use for ALL of my worldbuilding, stories, webcomics, games, and other projects! I'll refer to individual projects by their actual project name, but I'll generally use the Universe name if I'm referring to everything as a whole, or the worldbuilding.

SORRY, DID YOU SAY PROJECTS (PLURAL)!?

Yes I did!! I'm crushingly neurodivergent and over the many, many years I have existed, I have come up with lots of ideas for stories I want to tell! I'm working on telling them through various forms of media, like visual novels, short stories, books, webcomics, and a few other means. Each story requires a certain way of telling it!

HOW DO YOU HAVE TIME FOR IT ALL?

I'm disabled and spend most of my time cooped up in my flat with way too many thoughts. I've been working on all of this since I was around 9, and everything is in a constant state of being worked on.

WHERE CAN I FIND MORE OF YOUR OCS AND PROJECTS?

Head on over to my website (it's a neocities website) to see all of my projects organised into one place! You can also go to my Toyhouse profile where I keep all of my OC profiles. Also if you participate in ArtFight, you can find my profile for that over here!

CAN I MAKE SOMETHING FOR YOU?

PLEASE DO! I'm happy to accept any fanart, fan writings, edits, headcanons, suggestions, and other stuff for my characters and projects. My ask box is always open if you'd like to share anything!

DO YOU HAVE A DNI?

NOPE! I cannot control who views my page or content. If you've openly bigoted, mean, a troll, or otherwise shitty, I WILL gladly block you with zero hesitation. Keep that in mind.

I will tag any content that is NSFT, although I doubt I will post much of it. If you are a minor, I expect you to avoid this content. I'm serious about this one, and if I see you are a minor interacting with clearly tagged NSFT content, I will block you.

That should cover everything for now! I'll update this more as needed.

[shadow-laviko]

Hello I am curious anon :3 If you could change one (or more if u want) aspect of rain code, whether to tweak/delete/add some scenes or something about the character, what would it be?

WHERE DID YOU COME FROM!? HI!! Please don't stay anonymous, I like to be able to go check the accounts of people who ask things :sob:

SPOILER FOR THE ENTIRETY OF RAINCODE

---

---

---

Ok, so, clearly, the game needs some kind of thing, whether unlocked post game or directly in the game, but we need something to better know the characters. Like, okay, we did have the gumshoe gabs (I like this name, it's funny and looks cyan blue and has the texture of a chewed chewhing-gum (don't worry, it makes sense to me)), but, the gumshoe gabs were not enough I think. Especially regarding, well, literally everyone who isn’t from the NDA. The detectives from the Amaterasu? Gone. Swank? Gone. Seth after chapter 1? Gone. Dominic and Guillaume after chapter 3? Gone. We don't know much of the Peacekeepers except for Yomi and Martina (although we do know more about Yomi than Martina), and that's a shame.

Same for Makoto, in the end, we don't know all that much about him.

Okay, well, even the NDA members, we don't know much about them...

So yeah, I think some sort of post-game content in a bonus section to get to know the characters better (everyone of them, all who were relevant to the game) would have been great.

Now, for more scenes... MORE YOMI CONT-

Ok, yeah, no, I guess we did have enough of him unfortunately...

Oh yeah, another content which could have been cool would have been some kind of audio library to listen to every osts of the game? Because Raincode osts are amazing... Especially during rain/storm, really. There was a storm yesterday and I played the osts while watching it... Well, let me tell you that Raincode osts + the sound of rain falling + watching thunder (given you are not epileptic) = falling asleep really quick.

Ok, this one will be mostly me (and other french people who might read this), but I wish the French translation wasn't rushed... like, man... Some things were bad, chapter 2 had a sentence in GERMAN in a FRENCH translation... Chapter 3 had apparently not explained the case very well, because a friend of mine didn't really get it, and I had to tell him what they said in the English version, and then only did it make sense for him.

Really guys, if you ever work in the video game industry and you want your game to be translated... Give time to the translators (because I think I heard the man didn’t have much time to translate the whole game?)

Uhh other than that... Well, I've heard people say the game/mysteries were too easy to solve, but I think that if they were harder, people would say 'Lol, that's not possible/That's far fetched' like they do for the Layton series. And like, Danganronpa could have sometimes 'far fetched' or 'hard to make happen'murders, because the students had 'powers', so it made more sense in a way?

So, so far, I think the difficulty level is correct. Besides, you can guess how a crime was commited, but I doubt you'd have it 100% figured out on the five/six cases.

Oh yeah, about added scenes... Well, it would have been nice to actually see what happens to Swank, Seth, (Martina?) Guillaume and Dominic after each chapter...

(We should also have had something telling us why/how Aide became so uhm... like that (you can't tell me he isn't obsessed) with Yomi...)

And I think that's all?

All that I can think about for now at least

I'll reblog this if I ever get new ideas

Thanks for the ask!

Now, how do I tag that... would it be right to tage the characters? I merely mentionned them... Would people angry if I added character names? But then I can take them down if needed... But again, people might get angry because this could count as click bait? Uhh, ok, I guess I will try and hope for the best...? Please don't kill me- wait, why are you stil reading? 🤨