#sometimes you gotta draw a guy burning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

revasserium · 1 year ago

Note

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 9 months ago

Text

Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse

Word Count: 4388

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You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.

“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.

“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.

“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.

“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”

“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.

Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.

“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”

He clearly wasn’t.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”

“Ooh, I like that one,” you said.

Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” you asked.

Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.

“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.

The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.

“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.

The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”

“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”

Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned.

“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”

“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.”

You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”

You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”

“And sometimes… they come true.”

Dean was stunned. “Come again?”

“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.

“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.

Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” you asked.

Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

Dean nodded. “I know we do.”

***

You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.

“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.

“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.

Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.

“Yes?” the woman said.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”

One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”

You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”

She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”

Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”

“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.

You waved.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, from Wichita.”

“You got family here, or…?”

Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.

Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”

You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.

“But this place has its issues,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”

Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asked.

“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”

They shook their heads.

“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”

The boys seemed too shocked to speak.

You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”

She nodded.

“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”

You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.

“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean responded.

The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.

You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”

Sam and Dean both nodded.

“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair.

***

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas.

“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”

He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”

"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.

"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

"About that night, you mean?”

"Yeah.”

Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”

You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.

“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

"No.”

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?”

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.

‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.

Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.

You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”

While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.

“You stalkin’ me?”

“No, actually, I came to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.

You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”

He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.

Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.

You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”

He nodded sharply.

Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.

You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.

***

The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.

She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”

The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.

She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

You giggled.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.

“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.

“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”

You giggled again. You liked her a lot.

“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.

Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”

“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”

You smirked at Sam and sat down.

Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.

“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”

Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked.

Tears welled in your eyes.

Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?”

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.

“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”

You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

***

You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.

Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room.

“Why?” Sam asked.

Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”

Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.

“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Amateur,” she deadpanned.

You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.

“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

She nodded.

“How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”

“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”

“You said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.

“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.

“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.

When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.

“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.

You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.

Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”

You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.

“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”

Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opened.

“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”

"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.

“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.

Dean stood glued to his spot.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”

He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.

“And don’t cuss at me!”

***

You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.

“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”

You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”

The three of you rushed into the house.

“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.

You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you.

Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.

You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.

Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.

“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.

“What, why?!” you asked.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.

You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”

The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”

She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked.

She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.

The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said.

You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.

She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.

“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.

***

The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.

You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.

“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”

Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.

You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you know.”

You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.

He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”

“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.

He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.

Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.

Sam nodded and came over to the car.

“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.

“We won’t,” Dean responded.

“See you around,” the woman winked at you.

You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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littlespacereader · 9 months ago

Text

I haven’t regressed for a while because you know, life sometimes gets in the way. But I finally got a moment after class to have the rest of the evening off and just regress. At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to regress after a stressful day at college. Then I literally was two second into a Blue’s Clues episode with Steve and suddenly I’m a baby😂 Steve just had the magic touch🥹💞

I felt inspired to write a cute fic with him and a little reader. I’m actually thinking of making a mini series of fics with a little reader in a kids show. What do you think? Would you guys like something like that? Let me know😄

So please enjoy another “side quest fic” I didn’t plan on writing😂💞

Looking for Blue’s Clues🐾

Caregiver!Steve Burns & GN Little!Reader

Tags - scavenger hunt, Steve is the most gentle and patient CG ever, hand holding, hugs

I held my head up high as I walked through the woods, stuffie in hand, backpack on my shoulders, wandering around on my own little adventure. I needed this, just some time away from the busy and hectic working world. I just needed some time outdoors to regress in peace.

And that’s what I did. All my supplies shoved into my backpack, my favorite stuffie in hand, I am ready to go! I started on a trail, following the winding trail through the thick woods. I’ve been on this trail before, it’s calm, quiet and peaceful. Perfect for a regression day.

As I kept walking I noticed something with my usual trail. The trail split into two pathways. One, the usual path, went right and down towards a river. But now there’s a left path, a path that’s never existed before. Maybe the parks department decided to make a new path for everyone?

There was something deep down inside of me that filled with excitement for the new adventure. I looked to my stuffie in hand, “What do you think (stuffie name)?”

Though they didn’t outright say it, I knew my stuffie wanted me to go forward towards the adventure.

“You’re so right! New trail it is!”

The path wasn’t very different than the other trail, though it did go deeper into the woods. But there was a clearing up ahead, I could see there was a colorful neighborhood with a yellow house.

A blue dog ran infront of me, stopping me in my tracks. She began talking to me before she skipped away. I smiled to myself, a blue dog?! That’s a first!

Suddenly out of the corner of my eyes I spotted something. On one of the tall trees next to me is a blue paw print. I walked over and looked at the print and smiled. Why would there be a blue paw print here? Did that dog leave it behind?

“A clue!”

I quickly turned around to be greeted by a man in a stripped green shirt. He smiled, happy to see me as if he knew me his whole life.

“You found a clue!”

“A clue?” I pointed to the blue print.

“A blue’s clue! Great job! You’re very smart.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the praise. “Thank you, but I wasn’t even trying.”

“You weren’t trying to find blue’s clue and you found it anyway? You’re better at this than me! Wow!” Again, the stranger glowed with praise.

“I’m Steve, it’s so nice to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” I gladly shook his hand.

“Now that we have our first clue, we gotta put it in our handy dandy notebook!” Steve pulled out his notebook from his back pocket, popping the crayon out from the top and flipping to the first page.

He stood along side me so I could see what he was drawing. “So our first clue is a tree. We’ll start with two big lines for the trunk of the tree, then we’ll draw smaller lines on the top for the branches, then we’ll make this curly lines for the leafs at the top of the tree. There, a tree.” He looked up from his drawing to smile back at me.

“Our first clue is a tree. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree?” He asked me.

I began thinking of all the possibilities a tree could mean. What does his dog want to do tonight? “Maybe she wants to play fetch with one of the branches of the tree?”

Steve hummed in agreement, “Good idea, maybe she does watch to play fetch. But we have to find the other clues to be sure.”

I nod my head in agreement but I can’t help but ask. “How many clues are there?”

“There are three clues. Once we find all three clues we sit in our thinking chair and think, think, think. Because when we use our minds, we take a step out of time and we can do anything that we want to do.” His smile is utterly contagious because I smile just as big as him.

“I’m really going to need your help to find the other two clues. Will you help me find them?”

“Yeah!” I practically jump saying.

“Really? Thank you! You’re the best! Now, this second clue must be around here somewhere…Lets go this way.” He hold his hand out to me as a silent offer.

I appreciate him not being pushy or just grabbing my hand. It was an invitation if I wanted it, so I took his hand in mine. Together we walked to the yellow house I saw earlier.

Steve opened the door and lead the way into his house. It’s beautiful with its peach tone wallpaper and big red chair in the living room.

“That’s the thinking chair,” Steve pointed out, “Once we’ve got all three clues we’ll sit there and think.”

Then it was off to the kitchen to further find a clue. Inside on the counter top is a family different spices.

“Y/N,” he squeezed my hand, “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper and their children Cinnamon and Paprika.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes as the Salt and Pepper shaker waved and talked to me.

“Bonjour Y/N! Welcome to our home!” Mr. Salt waved.

“So wonderful to have you here.” Mrs. Pepper added.

“So nice to meet you both.” I smiled back.

But then my eyes caught it, across the kitchen on another counter top sat a bag of marshmallows. And on the bag? A big blue paw print!

“Steve! A clue! A clue!!” I squeezed his hand back and was jumping out and down.

“The flu? You don’t look sick to me. Here let me check.” He held his hand to my forehead. “No, you don’t have a temperature.”

I couldn’t help but giggle to Steve. “No! A clue! Over there!” I pointed to the paw print.

Steve gasped and quickly the two of us ran over to the bag of marshmallows. “So our second clue is…marshmallows. You know what we gotta do. We gotta put this clue in our handy dandy…”

“Notebook!”

“That’s right! Our notebook! Now, a marshmallow. We’ll make two round lines on the side and an oval on the top. At the bottom we’ll make half a circle to connect the sides. There! A marshmallow! But what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree and a marshmallow?”

The two of us stopped and started to think about the clues. There were pretty different from one another. It would be hard to tell what they meant together.

“Maybe she wants to play fetch then eat some marshmallows?” I suggested.

Steve gasped and nodded his head, “Maybe! But I think we should find our last clue before we decide.” I nodded in agreement.

Mail time, mail time mmmmaaaaaiiilllll ttttiiimmmmeeee

“Oh! The mail is here!” Steve grabbed my hand and together we ran into the living room. Blue and him started dancing around happy for the mails arrival. After a minute I started to join in the fun.

“Here’s the mail, it never fails. It makes me want to wag my tail. When it comes I want to wail, MMMMMAAAAAIIIIILLLLL!!!”

Steve plopped down into his thinking chair and held his hand out for me to sit as well. “You’re more than welcome to sit on my lap or on the arm of the chair. Whichever is more comfortable for you Y/N.”

After a moment of consideration, I chose to sit on the arm of the chair next to Steve. The mailbox stretched into the room and over to our chair. “Mails here! Mails here!”

“Mailbox! I’d like you to meet my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Mailbox.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled to the purple mailbox.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Infact this letter is for you.”

“It’s for me?”

“Yup! Here you go!” Mailbox opens his lid and Steve grabbed the letter for me.

“We just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who it’s from.” He went to open the letter but paused and looked to me. “Y/N this is your mail. Would you rather open it or would you like me to?”

“Could you open and read it?” I asked a bit shy. But Steve brought me back to feeling comfortable with his warm smile and nod.

“Of course I can. Now let’s see, oh! It appears that this letter is from a (stuffie name here).”

I gasped and looked down at my stuffie. “It’s from (stuffie name here)?!”

“Uh-huh. That what it says. The letter goes,

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for always taking such great care of me. Thank you for always coming to me whenever you need extra love and comfort. Always know I will forever be with you even when you have to go to school or work. There’s always a piece of me inside of you just as there a piece of you inside of me.

Love you always,

(Stuffie name).”

Tears started to fall down from my eyes as I looked at my stuffie in hand. They looked back up at me with a smile and a wink.

“What a beautiful letter! Your stuffie is very grateful for you Y/N, just as I’m sure you are for them. Oh, I don’t think we were introduced. It’s nice to meet you (stuffie name).” Steve leaned over and shook the stuffie’s (hand, paw, fin, ect.)

“They said it’s nice to meet you too.” I add back to Steve, wiping the happy tears from my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I hum in agreement. “My stuffie was just so nice.”

“They seem great! You’re perfectly matched because you’re great and they’re great too.” Steve smiled. “Now, would you like to take a moment here or would you like to go find the last clue?”

“The last clue!!”

“Alright!” He stood up and offered his hand again. I jumped off the chair and took his hand in mine again. “Off we go looking for clues…but ummm…where do you think we should go?”

I looked outside and saw the sunsetting. It might be nice to get some fresh air again. “Maybe outside?” I offered.

“Great idea! Follow me.” Steve led the way as we ventured back outside.

Outside we started to walk around the town. Steve showed me the eye doctor where Blue’s friend Magenta got her new glasses, then there was the present shop where his brother Joe works and another house down the block where his cousin Josh lives. The town seemed so nice and peaceful.

Since we didn’t see anymore of Blue’s clues we ventured back to Steve’s house and into the back yard. There it seemed all of his friends were handing out around a picnic blanket, tree and a fire pit. WAIT A MINUTE! THE FIRE PIT!

“Steve!! A clue!! Another clue!!” I pointed out again.

“Really?! Where?”

“There by the fire pit! The final clue!”

Steve gasped and looked at the fire pit. There, at the base of it was the clue.

“A clue!! Our final clue! And it’s on the fire pit. You know where we need to put this, in our handy dandy…”

“NOTEBOOK!”

Steve grabbed his notebook from his back pocket and began drawing. “So our last clue is…a fire pit. We’ll start by making a cylinder for the fire pit. Then spark points for the fire inside of it. There, a fire pit!”

He closed the notebook then looked at me just as excited. “We have all three clues! We have to sit in our-.”

“Think chair!!”

“Yes! Come on!”

The two of us raced back inside the house and over to the thinking chair. Steve sat in his usual spot and I opted for the arm of the chair again. Blue ran over and joined us, to see if we got it right.

“So now that we’re in our thinking chair, let’s think. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner? What’s our first clue?”

“A tree.”

“That’s right! A branch! Good job remembering. So our first clue is a branch. But what was our second?”

“Marshmallows!”

“You’re right it’s marshmallows! You have an amazing memory.” He smiled.

“Finally our last clue is a fire pit. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner, with a tree, marshmallows and a fire pit?”

The two of sat in the chair together and think, think, think. They did seem random at first but they meant to go together. Then suddenly it hit me!

“Steve! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!!”

“What is it Y/N?”

“Blue wants to use the wood from the tree to make a fire so that she can roast marshmallows!”

Steve’s face lights up to the idea. He looks to Blue who start jumping around the room happily. “You did it Y/N! You figure out Blue’s Clues!”

Steve jumps up and put his arms open to me. I immediately run into them, getting a big hug from him. “You are so smart! I am so proud of you!”

Tears build up in my eyes hearing the admission. He’s treated me so sweet for hardly knowing me. I haven’t felt this safe and happy in such a long time.

“Come on, let’s go outside and get ourselves a marshmallow.” Steve says as we break apart.

The two of us join the rest of the neighborhood outside to roast some marshmallows. There I meet Joe and Josh as well as the rest of the family including Magenta, Sidetable, and more.

I sat next to Steve as the evening turned to night. We looked up at the stars above as we ate our marshmallows.

“You know, you could stay if you wanted?” Steve said after a moment. I looked at him shocked at first. “It’s just that, you did such a good job finding all the clues. And Blue and I loved having you here. Plus, I could look after you and show you the rest of the town and-.”

He stopped himself. “Sorry, what I’m trying to say is. If you like to stay you’re more than welcome to. I’d love to have you here. And before you say anything, I don’t mind your regression. I’d love to help take care of you and maybe even possible be your Caregiver. So what do you think?”

I immediately began to tear up again. “I’d love to stay and I’d love to have you as my Caregiver.”

Steve’s nervousness turned immediately to happiness as he put his arms out again. I didn’t waste any time as I joined him in a hug.

“I’m so happy to hear that Y/N. I think you’re going to be the best person for this town. I couldn’t be more happy to have you here Y/N.” Steve added as we broke apart.

“I couldn’t be more happy to be here.” I smiled back.

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bubblegumbarbie33 · 6 months ago

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The Lost Boys Using Slang From When I Headcanon They Got Turned

David, 1910's: This hunt is gonna be duck soup, don't worry about it. Marko's just being a goldbrick cause he doesn't want to deal with dumping the bodies. Yes- we DO have to dump the bodies Marko, remember that time in the 40's you ended up in the hoosegow because you ripped those honey-mooner's throats out and left the evidence behind? Oh, you wanna go, ya bimbo? Yeah, that's what I thought. You gotta quit letting me get on yer nerves ya crackpot.

Michael, leaning over whisper to Dwayne: What the fuck is he saying?

Marko, 1930's: Ackamarackus! It's gonna be aces! Quite talking that booshwash and gimme a five-spot so I can nab us some rotgut from the convenience store. Don't be a tightwad, Paul, I know you've got some dough in your pockets. I can't just filch it from 'em, last time I did that the coppers got on my ass and I had to rip their throats out.

Michael, whispering softly to himself: What the fuck?

Dwayne, 1950's: Well, half of the time Marko and Paul act like little ankle-biters. Somehow they always manage to feed girls on the boardwalk some smooth apple butter though. Although last time Paul got a little too excited and flashed his teeth- had those girls beating feet pretty quick. They had a bitchin' ride, really burned rubber on the way out, but we caught 'em. It should be easy for you to draw in the ladies Michael, you're a bit of dreamboat. Oh, don't have a cow David, no one's stealing him from you. Besides, Michael's a bit too nerdy to impress me. I mean it! Word from the bird!

Michael, mouthing silently: Word from the bird?

Paul, 1970's: You're not gonna get all flower power on us, are you? I'm gonna be honest Michael, sometimes when we're rapping it gets a little too peace and lovey for my taste. Wait, hang on, I wanna listen to the lick in this song. There it is. You know, these guys are doing a gig up in L.A. later this year- I'm stoked. David thinks they're a little off the wall, but I just think they've got a certain X-Factor, y'know?

Michael, nodding: I can actually understand the words that are coming out of your mouth right now.

Bonus, Star and Michael, 1980's:

Star: Ugh, bag your face Michael, you look like you just got hit by a truck.

Michael: I had to book it back here, alright, I didn't have time to clean up.

Star: That's cause you're turning into a total couch potato. You just lie on the ground after you eat- y'know it's just like a man-

Michael: Star, don't be a hoser alright, it's not because I'm a MAN-

Star: No, I'm being legit, like, I've been reading a lot of interesting literature about feminism and how woman are socialized-

Michael: Where are you getting books from?

Star: Dwayne has a library card. Y'know Santa Carla's got a primo library.

Michael: What- Oh, shit, some of that skater didn't go down right, I think I'm gonna ralph.

Star: Smooth move, Travolta. Ugh- dude, you puked on my shoes, what's your damage?

David and the boys, watching from the corner: Kids these days sound so weird.

#i know that i used the slang very liberally in this post but i did it FOR THE BIT #i just think its funny #tlb 1987 #the lost boys #the lost boys headcanons

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sososunniest · 25 days ago

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fresh ships that I like and why and headcanons

fresh x error

this one is probably my otp I draw these motherfunkers all the time waaaaaa .,.. okay. so I know there's an au where they're siblings . they aren't canonically siblings, and I hate that au with a burning passion so

iirc, even CQ ships fresh x error. so that's a plus. love my skeleton yaoi /silly

headcanon time. I feel like because of error's fear of being touched, fresh (at least) tries to tone it down with the physical touch. he kinda sucks at it tho

error hates, and I mean HATES showing affection. he shows it by being mean. fresh likes that about him, at least knowing that error is somewhat trying. keyword, somewhat

under the cut for more

fresh x fell

oh man. OH MAN. fresh and anyone he wouldn't like because of their mannerisms ,,,,,,,, "I like him, he's special to me" type stuff is my fave ever

< bad boy x absolute idiot freak loser 3 .... oh maaan

fresh probably censored him daily until he let him pass with a few curses. nothing too bad.

fresh joke flirts with him everyday and fell started to flirt back and fresh giggles and kicks his feet

fresh x lust

another instance of someone fresh wouldn't like. A WHORE. I headcanon lust as asexual though ,,,,,, my au made me permanently see him as someone who left his au and identified as asexual

they gossip and hold hands and talk about hot guys

they definitely call and twirl the phone cord and kick their legs

they wear wigs just so they can braid each others hair and they kiss on Mondays /vsilly

I see them as queer platonic partners ,,, that I love because AAAUAUUUAUUSAAAAGAGAHHR im tweaking

fresh x geno

okay main reason is because of fresherror ,,,,, and i just love them. no pure reason as to why, theeyre just so cute. I'm going nuts over them

fresh likes to wipe the blood from geno's mouth ,,, he thinks he's being nice. geno is grateful for this.

fresh likes giving him shirts and outfits but a lot of them are ruined from blood, so sometimes fresh walks around with literal blood stains on his shirt . what a fool. WHAT A FOOL !!!!!

fresh x ink

the chaotic duo we all neeeded ,,,, I feel like both of them are on the aroace spectrum

they probably paint together and ink probably gifted fresh some au that was abandoned so they could make it all cool together

the real reason I like this pair is because. uh. idk. they're both goofballs and they both like pulling pranks. they probably show eachother their special interests (yes I'm projecting get OVER IT /SILLY)

fresh x killer

this one isn't as well known ... I'm known as the rarepair ceo at this point, I fear

OKAY. I know killer's first reaction to fresh was quite literally "what the funk" but you gotta hear me out on them. they're cuties. very cute. they're like rivals, but the rivalry is completely one-sided and that's kinda funny to me. killer probably caught some feelings , and he was very angry about that

nothing else about them. I just really like them. I crode

fresh x classic

ahh yes, fresh and the guy he stole a body from /silly

I really do love them. comedian buddies. I find them more like platonic partners than actual lovers, since classic sans 'too lazy to feel love/be in a romantic relationship' and I took that as an opportunity to slap another aroace label onto a character I relate to BAHAHAAHA

they tell eachother dumb jokes

fresh x epic

yet another platonic partner relationship . foaming at the mouth

more comedians !!!!!! two little joke people. love em

fresh x cross

that one Underverse episode caused this. I have no other words. I just like them okay

fresh x nightmare

they commit tax fraud together on Tuesdays

yet another instance of someone fresh would HATE, but fresh grows an attachment to him. "aw, but he's cute" he won't be cute when he murders you fresh

fresh x swap

two words. Christmas party

that au has my freshswap brain foaming at the mouth. they giggle and gaggle together and plot evil pranks together. fresh probably helps him with puzzles

fresh x greaser

I used to not like these two. I used to not like greaser in general. buut the fanart swayed me,,,,, and now I like it. but JUST A LITTLE.

fresh x fatal error

fatal error is geno and error sorta combined in my eyes, and I ship both of them with fresh ,,,, ssso I can't help myself ,,,,,

fresh x horror

tall buddies. very tall in fact

can you tell I'm getting lazy

fresh x dream

also that underverse episode

ok bye

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canirove · 2 years ago

Text

Ben Chilwell Imagine | three

Author’s note: Welcome to another imagine inspired by something random I saw 😅 In this case, it all started after reading this post that someone I follow rebloged, and also after watching a cute video on Instagram of a girl talking to the guy sitting opposite her on a train. That kind of is the summary 😁

Masterlist

"Excuse me."

"Uh?" I say, looking up from my phone and meeting those blue kind of grey eyes.

"Hi, sorry for bothering you. Would you mind keeping an eye on my things while I go to the bathroom?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thank you" he smiles.

"Everything ok?" he asks when he comes back.

"Yep. Though if you are a Chelsea supporter, they just conceded."

"What?"

"Sorry."

"I leave for a couple of minutes and..." he sighs. "Do you like football?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?" he chuckles.

"When my team wins. Like right now, for example."

"Wait, do you support..." he says, looking down at his phone.

"Yeah... Sorry" I shrug.

"It's ok" he laughs. "Do you want to watch the game? We can share my earbuds."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, come here" he says, moving to the seat next to him and leaving his for me. "I'm Ben, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Ben" I reply, sitting next to him and taking one of the earbuds, our heads leaning closer so we don't pull them out.

Being this close, I can see that he has some freckles, and he also smells so good... Yeah, I'm in love.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"A draw probably was the best result" Ben says once the game is over.

"Was it? Because that penalty..."

"It wasn't a penalty."

"It was."

"It wasn't" he says, trying to look serious but not being able to hide a smile. "And looks like we've almost made it London."

"Yeah..." I sigh. I wish I could stay in this train forever, sitting next to him, looking at his perfect face, maybe running a hand through his curls while he rests his head on my lap while taking a nap and...

"Are you ok?"

"Uh?"

"You just kind of... Disconnected" Ben laughs.

"Did I?"

"You did. Which means that you didn't hear my question."

"I'm sorry" I say, feeling my cheeks get warm. Gotta love it when a cute guy catches you daydreaming about him. "What was your question?"

"I asked if you are from Brighton or were just visiting."

"Oh, I was visiting. One of my cousins was getting married."

"What a coincidence! I also attended a wedding this weekend. One of my best mates from school was marrying this girl he met on a train back from uni. Kind of like us right now."

"Wait..." I say, trying to ignore his smile when he said "kind of like us right now." "That girl... Is she called Diana?"

"Yeah. Diana and Matt."

"Oh my God!"

"Please tell me Diana isn't your cousin."

"She is!" I laugh.

"We were at the same wedding?"

"Yes!"

"And we didn't meet? How?"

"I don't know" I shrug. I'm sure I would have noticed a guy like him.

"Looks like destiny still wanted us to meet, tho" Ben says with a cheeky smile.

"Looks like it" I say, my face now burning.

"Before the train stops... May I get your number? We could maybe meet one day, grab a coffee, maybe go to a game together?"

"That would be lovely" I reply, the butterflies on my stomach having a party. No, not a party. A rave.

"I think you friend is desperate from an update on the cute guy from the train" Ben chuckles while typing his number on my phone.

"What?"

"A text just came in asking about him. It was written in capital letters."

"Oh, shit. Sorry."

"It's ok. I also think you are very cute" he smirks.

"I..." I feel like my face is about to burst into flames. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. And you should text your friend, I fear for their life" he laughs.

"I will, I promise. But before we leave the train, can I ask you a favour?"

"Ok..." he smirks, that smile making me fall a bit more in love with him.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #benimagine

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ihopesocomic · 9 months ago

Note

Hey there! I've been reading this comic since the season finale of MP and I must say, It's been an amazing story so far. It has quickly become one of my favorite webcomics to tune into and I really love how you guys tackle some of the topics in the story! Forgive me if you've already answered a question like this before, but I can't help but be a bit intrigued by the BTS work. Since two people seem to be working on it at any given time how do y'all divide the work and how do you guys problem-solve the obstacles of collaborating on a webcomic? How do you align your thought process with the story? Do you ever plan on posting a thorough breakdown of that process? Apologies if anything in this ask is worded a bit weirdly... But also thanks for your time if you read and answer this :)

Thank you very much for your kind words, anon. So happy to hear you're enjoying the story so far. <33

As for your question, generally what happens is thus:

I'll write out a script and we'll go over it together and edit it for comic form as needed because sometimes not everything in a script can work in comic form.

Cat will then draw out the characters. I colour and shade. We tend to share background duties. Others may take on colouring duties (who are paid for their time, of course), so I'm just left with shading and whatever backgrounds I contribute.

Cat handles editing and final tweaks.

As for problem solving, we're just very blunt and open about each other's limitations. We've known each other nearly two decades so nothing is really held back. If I have to throw out whole chunks of a script to accommodate what Cat can deliver, then I'll happily do that, for example.

Because honest discussion beats burn out and all that jazz. lol

But yeah, there's really nothing deeper than that. Doing page-by-page updates has certainly given us more breathing room to do things at our own pace, I gotta say.

Hope that clears things up! Thank you again for your support. c: - RJ

#ask #ask us stuff #rj answers #general comic stuff

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

Note

For your 2k celebration: Eddie/Lover's Lake/book 🌼

Big, gigantic thanks to @trashmouth-richie for helping me with this one!

Warnings: attempted drug deal, mention of drug use

WC: 899

Mud squelches under your trainers as you make your way towards the lake. It’s a familiar destination; your favorite place to write. But today, you have other plans.

Eddie’s already there, waiting for you. He’s sitting on a stone wall, idly tapping his ringed fingers against his tin box. Your stomach flip-flops at the thought of what’s inside.

Come on. Don’t be such a coward.

“Um, h-hi,” you stutter, mentally kicking yourself for letting your anxiety seep into your voice. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“Yeah, no sweat,” Eddie says, patting the empty spot beside him and popping open the box lid. You oblige, bringing your backpack onto your lap. “All right, I can do $15 for half an ounce.” He takes out a crinkled plastic baggie, frowning as you inspect it critically. “I really can’t go any lower; you’re already robbing me blind here.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, “‘s not that. Um, I was wondering if you had any, like, magic mushrooms?” Your face burns as you say it.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Never took you for a psychedelics kinda girl,” he laughs incredulously, “but, yeah, I should have some.” He digs through his stash, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“Huh?”

“The shrooms. You going to a party, or…”

“Oh.” You wipe your palms on your jeans. “I, um, I’ve been having bad writer’s block, and I heard that drugs can help…unblock things? I smoked weed with my friend, but it didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie asks, not breaking his focus. “What are you trying to write? Essays and school shit?”

You shake your head. “I’m working on a novel, actually,” you admit. It sounds silly when you say it aloud. “It’s like a horror-mystery hybrid? I don’t know,” you finish lamely, hoping he finds the shrooms soon.

But you’ve captured his attention, and his chocolate brown eyes light up as they meet yours. “No way!” he exclaims. “I love scary stories. I swear, I’ve read everything Stephen King’s written.” He crosses his heart for emphasis. “Can I get a sneak peek of your book?” He pouts adorably, melting your heart and easing your nerves.

“It’s just some chapter outlines so far,” you explain, tugging your notebook out of your backpack. It’s an assuming marble composition notebook, but it holds all of your hard work. “And I haven’t written anything in weeks, hence the…” you gesture to his lunchbox of drugs in lieu of completing the sentence.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he scans your writing. “This is…really fucking good,” he muses, flipping the page and continuing to read. “How do you come up with this stuff? Puts my Hellfire campaigns to shame.”

You laugh bashfully. “Sometimes, inspiration just strikes, y’know?” Your smile falters when he skips to the rough sketches you have for your characters. You’re not an artist, not by a long shot, but you know he’ll be able to recognize who you’ve modeled a protagonist after. “Okay, give it back,” you blurt out, attempting to grab it from his hands, but his grip is too tight.

“What, you got some naughty drawings in here?” He waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle despite your embarrassment. “Don’t worry; I won’t judge.” Before you can protest further, he finds the one picture you were hoping he’d somehow skip over. It’s a tall, lanky guy with curly brown hair that touches his shoulders. He’s wearing a concert t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, displaying his tattoos, and ripped black jeans. “Whoa,” Eddie breathes, and you’re praying to be swallowed up by a black hole. “This dude is totally metal.”

“Wh-What?” Did he really not know who it was supposed to be?

“The guy,” he says, pointing to the drawing, “he looks so badass.” He closes the notebook but doesn’t hand it back. “Could I hang onto this? I wanna read more, but I gotta get going. Promised my uncle I’d make dinner tonight, and he’ll kill me if I say that and then order pizza one more time. Actually,” he pauses, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, “do you wanna help me cook? And stay for dinner, obviously. You could maybe tell me more about your story. Might help get those creative juices flowing or something.” He shrugs like he didn’t just use all of his courage to ask you.

“Sure,” you smile, hopping down from the wall and brushing off your pants. “And you can tell me about your…campaigns?” You furrow your brows, unsure if you used the correct terminology.

Eddie narrows his eyes. “I don’t know…how can I trust that you’re not working as an enemy spy?”

You gasp, startling him. “Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “but that just gave me a great idea. Maybe Kal–that’s the totally metal dude–used to be allegiant to the enemy, but is trying to redeem himself!” You pluck the notebook from him, flip to where a pen serves as a bookmark, and jot down your thought before you forget it.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Eddie teases, taking the book back and tucking it under his arm for safekeeping. “You’d better mention me in the acknowledgments. Better yet–dedicate the whole book to me.”

“I can see it now: ‘For Eddie Munson: thanks for the idea and for not selling me shrooms,’” you joke back, walking in tandem with him.

“Perfect.”

#bug's 2k celebration #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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crystallizedday · 9 months ago

Text

So I’ve been hyperfixating on both Demongo & Fusionfall as of late, & I wanted to put that energy to good use somehow.

But since I currently do not have the energy to draw anything as of late, I decided to do something

A little different.

Since Demongo is only ever canonically shown as an enemy/obstacle in Samurai Jack, Fusionfall had to make a few creative decisions to better flesh out his character so he could interact with players in an organic way.

This means that Fusionfall added QUITE a lot to his character, something that I have been keeping track of for quite some time now. While it is very unlikely that any additions to Demongo’s character line up with Genndy’s vision for the character…

I mean

Genndy doesn’t do shit with the character anyway. Y’all remember what happened in season 5?

Heartbreaking shit for any Demongo fans out there…

To show some appreciation for my boy

& also to talk about what exactly Fusionfall added to his character

I want to cover every single significant detail regarding Demongo’s character.

I will split this up into 3 sections: his NPC voice lines, his Nano voice lines, & his text box dialogue.

Let’s start with his

NPC VOICE LINES

Because not only are the lines coming from the original Demongo, but they’re voiced by his og voice actor as well, so if any of these sections were to be considered the most “canon” depiction of him, it’s this one.

I have actually found & recorded all 15 different voice lines from him & packaged em all into a zip file… but I’m stupid & I don’t know how to insert that shit into Tumblr, or if that’s even a good idea considering zip files tend to be sus as fuck.

So uh

For now

Y’all just gotta take my word.

After thoroughly reviewing all the voice lines, there is ONE key addition to his character here that stands out right off the back.

This version of Demongo is the SASSIEST he’s ever been.

He literally will either greet you by sarcastically asking if you’re looking for a mission to do like an absolute smartass, or he’ll just talk down to you & refer to you as “another human child”.

Hell, referring to you as a child is something he commonly does in these lines.

Most of the time, he will speak to you in a way that emphasizes his own importance, especially when he talks to you via the nanocomm.

He definitely displays that classic huge ego his original character had, but he sometimes has a bit of a cheeky tone about it, like the sorta vibes you’d get from a rich & spoiled kid who thinks they’re the greatest thing to be put on this planet.

One of my favorite examples of this is when you accept a mission from him, & he’ll sometimes tell you “Do you think YOU can save the world?”

However, as much as he downplays your abilities, he also will sometimes find interest in your endeavors & even be impressed when you complete a mission.

One of his victory lines also has him actually openly celebrating your accomplishment, which is a cute detail that’ll come back later when we talk about his Nano lines.

While this isn’t exactly something that says a lot about his personality, I also wanted to point out how one of his victory lines has him remarking “Your soul BURNS with a warriors fire!” This remark actually attempts to connect Demongo’s fire theme in his design to his whole soul-collecting shtick, suggesting that to HIM, stronger & more determined souls will have a fiery aura to them… which is unsurprising considering that ONE Japanese legend about blue fire & souls &- I’m getting ahead of myself WKWWKSMSODMOM

No matter what Demongo says to the player, he always speaks in a manner where his tone of voice drastically shifts from word to word.

You know that whole bit where the fandom likes to call this guy a theater kid?

Well

With how he says shit in such a dramatic, expressive, & ever-changing tone…

He kinda IS.

He SOUNDS like someone up on a stage, putting their heart into EVERY SINGLE line they say.

It’s honestly kinda adorable.

One last thing I found significant about his lines his how he fully admits that he often schemes in his downtime. However, while this may be interpreted as him scheming against the good guys, I don’t think this is the case, especially since we’ve never had a mission from him that either relates to Aku or gives him something powerful that HE could use against the heroes. I will talk more about this once we get to the text box section.

But before we do that, we need to move onto the

NANO VOICE LINES

There are… a LOT of voice lines for his nano counterpart.

Thankfully, all of these lines are publicly available here!

So y’all can have a listen to them whenever you please!

I am unsure just HOW much of the original Demongo carries over in his Nano counterpart’s personality, so what I’ve done is cross-reference Nano Demongo’s lines with Nano Aku’s lines. After all, Aku is a rather interesting character since he’s both a terrifying threat while also being a lil bit of a fucking dork in the original show, & while HE isn’t present in Fusionfall, his nano IS.

So anything goofy Nano Demongo displays that Nano Aku doesn’t suggests that these lil quirks ARE things that originate from the original Demongo (the Fusionfall version, of course).

Imma list each of my individual findings numerically so they’re a bit more organized & easier to read.

Ahem…

1) Demongo enjoys dancing

Considering even Aku enjoys boogying a bit (at least in season 5), it isn't all that surprising that this trait carries over to Demongo.

However, comparing Nano Demongo's lines with Nano Aku's, Aku acts more so like he is forcing YOU to dance, & sounds like he does not enjoy having to dance himself.

This makes sense considering the very specific circumstances season 5 Aku was in, so I’m certain Aku wouldn’t typically be in the mood for that sort of nonsense.

On the other hand, Nano Demongo LOVES to dance. He ADORES it, & even though one of his lines is rather demanding, it isn't in a "you will dance or I will disintegrate you" kind of way like how Nano Aku’s lines would be like. Nano Demongo wants you to dance WITH him, not FOR him.

His lil “Go go DemONGO!!” as one of his lines is so fucking cute that it actually makes me a lil mad KWMWKWMWKDMEODMON

HE IS SO PROUD OF HIS DANCE MOVES, I CAN’T

FUCK

… ahem

Him loving to dance actually lines up pretty well with the theater kid energy he already has, so this trait actually fits for him.

I think he’d be pretty damn good at ballet KAMWKWMWKSMSODMDOM

2) Demongo can experience love

Look

I know this sounds fanfictiony

But

When one of his lines is basically just “Demons need love too!” & like ACTUALLY DOING THE FUCKIN DREAMY SIGH THING in another line

Come on

How are you gonna disprove that?

& this isn’t something exclusive to the nano counterparts.

Nano Aku will just say shit like "love is for losers" & pushes the love narrative onto someone else, claiming THEY are infatuated with HIM.

So while Aku doesn’t give two shits about the subject (aromantic icon /j /j /j), Demongo's out here acting absolutely SMITTEN, one of his lines being him promising not to eat a person's soul purely out of infatuation.

Damn

Like Aku's canonically tried impressing literal children before so they adore & look up to him before, but Demongo really do be shaping up to be the bigger dork of the two KWMWKWMWOSMWO

It’s probably HARD to imagine even Fusionfall Demongo having the capacity to love, but since even Nano Aku is disinterested in that sort of shit, it’s hard to just excuse it as a nano-exclusive thing.

Plus

I think it’s cute. KAKWWKISDMOSXKOMK

Makes me wonder if FF Demongo has exes, cause that would be kinda funny to explore KAWNWODMWOMDOWDM

3) Demongo cries. Hard

Not only does Nano Demongo have TWO SEPARATE lines where he's just bawling his fuckin eyes out, like straight up whimpering & wailing, but Aku's lines in comparison are just "this is so sad" with the most fake fuckin crying I have ever heard KWNWKWMWKSNWOXKONWC

& when I say “fake crying”

I mean like

“Oh booo hoooo, lemme play a sad song for you on the world’s smallest violin…” kind of fake crying. There’s like NO effort behind it KWMWKWMWODKEON

Aku out here never expresses sadness to such a dramatic degree (& only ever gets like… emotionally depressed in season 5 where he just doesn’t feel like doing anything)

Meanwhile Demongo is bawling like SpongeBob during the dark ages of the show KWMWKWMWOSMSODMON

Im almost convinced FF Demongo has the ability to cry on command, just so other people will pity him so much that they’ll do shit for him.

It’s a good substitute for threatening them when uh

He can’t exactly live up to his threats

Since his powers got yoinked…

So what better way to get other people to do what you say than to make them feel like a piece of shit for NOT helping you?? OWMWKWMWODMWODM

4) Demongo can get overwhelmingly terrified

Yeah

Duh

He’s helpless without his powers

So it makes sense that without them, he’d feel like anything could kill him at any minute.

But he straight up sounds like a cornered mouse in one of his lines. It sounds like he’s balled up in a corner, panicked for his well-being.

It’s actually kinda sad…

For all his talk of being the best there is, I can imagine that if he finds himself powerless, he just goes into panic-mode if he feels like he’s in danger.

& the fact that this is one of the more canon-accurate additions to his character breaks me wee lil heart…

�� oh also

Nano Aku’s scared lines are like

Let’s just say they DON’T sound like he’s scared…

So that again isn’t a nano-exclusive part of Nano Demongo’s personality.

But this isn’t really a big claim, so :p KWMWKSMWODKS

5) Demongo laughs like a god damn dork when he genuinely finds something funny

Like we know he's got that gremlin laugh in the show & it's wacky as fuck, but according to his audio files, when bro is fuckin AMUSED, he displays some of the DORKIEST laughs l've ever heard out of a cartoon demon.

I’m not being biased.

Listen to the files yourself.

He like

Does the nerdiest lil “HEH!!” in one of them. It’s so fuckin GOOFY WOEMDODMDOSKDODK

Meanwhile, Nano Aku sounds like what you'd expect Aku to sound like when laughing.

Just evil laughs all around.

Not Demongo though, no no NO.

Bro laughs like how me or my own buds laugh.

Like a fucking nerd.

This is another cute addition to his character.

I dunno. I just like the idea of Demongo being such a sassy dork, but often puts up a tough & menacing front so people will take him seriously.

It’s that kind of characterization that inspired me to make the Duo of Doom AU, actually.

Speaking of the funni fella being a fuckin dork

6) Demongo is adorably ECSTATIC when victorious

Nano Aku's out here with his classic bellowing evil laugh & shit

It’s what you’d expect from Aku

& then there's Demongo

Who sounds like a god damn excited cheerleader when you & him win a fight (it’s in the “Battle Outcome” folder, if you’re following along with the audio files).

& then you have bro's cute lil "let us REJOICE!!"

Like that’s the kind of shit you’d hear an optimistic or comic relief character say at the end of an episode or animated movie where they’re like “Let’s PARTY!!” or something.

You don’t get that shit from Nano Aku, & especially his og counterpart.

I like to think that if FF Demongo did end up pulling off something cool or successfully accomplished something, he’d get so fuckin excited over it, maybe even doing a short celebratory dance cause he just feels like he NEEDS to with how excited he is KWMWKWMKWMWOSKOM

& then promptly panic when he realizes he’s not the only one in the area & fears that someone just saw him dancing like a fuckin dork OWMWKWMWOEKEODMSOXKSOCKOM

There’s so much you can do with his character in FusionFall that it pisses me off how no one in the FF fandom’s taken advantage of this shit…

Y’all keep writing him as this super serious character, & I’m just sitting here like

Naw, man

You don’t know him like I do /j /j /j KQMQKWMWKWMWKWMWOEMEOEM

Okay.

Now we have ONE more section to cover before y’all can understand this character just as much as I do.

We now need to look at his

TEXT BOX DIALOGUE

You can find all his dialogue on various wiki pages covering the missions he gives & missions that he just so happens to be a part of for one reason or another.

I recommend using the breezewiki Fusionfall pages since they actually showcase Demongo’s lil “emails” he gives you as you progress through the missions he gives you.

However, if that website doesn’t work for you for whatever reason (like how it is on my end), the fandom wiki will do just fine.

I’ll also provide SOME screenshots of my findings so I actually have some photo evidence for what I’m about to claim.

Before we do that, however…

Yes

Demongo DOES often speak in third person in the written dialogue.

I dunno why, since he doesn’t talk that way in his debut episode…

So I just like to ignore that trait of his

Or just say that he started talking like that cause Aku tends to refer to himself in the third person sometimes, so maybe he got it from the big guy himself…

Speaking of Aku

Hot take:

I don’t think Demongo’s working for Aku.

I know this doesn’t say much about FF Demongo’s personality, but it’s just something that I want to address cause I feel like I’m one of the few people that believe bro isn’t snitching on everyone to Aku.

There is a mission where you need to retrieve something for Demongo before a timer runs out. If it does, Demongo says this to you.

Notice how Demongo refers to Aku here.

Isn’t it a little odd that he refers to Aku as his “lord” & not his “master”?

It COULD be an oversight

It could be that he currently sees Aku as his lord, much like a civilian to a king, rather than his master, someone he directly works under.

Additionally

Isn’t it also odd that the only time he mentions Aku to you directly is when you fail him?

Sounds like SOMEBODY remembers that time he first failed Aku & got fucking crushed…

But considering Demongo gives you a second chance to fetch the thingie for him…

Mmm

Seems kinda generous of him, don’t you think?

I like to see this as Demongo, having experienced that position before, not wanting to do the same thing to you (especially since… well, he can’t do shit to you while he’s weak like this).

He doesn’t wanna be the Aku in THAT situation…

& the only other time he mentions Aku is this line here, when you ask him about his allegiance on behalf of Jack.

Yes. It IS shady that he doesn’t outright say that he’s working for Aku.

But like

If Aku is watching

Then why the fuck would he say that he ISN’T working for him?

He doesn’t wanna be offed for potential treason after all.

& if he was REALLY working for Aku, then he wouldn’t be in the position he’s in right now.

He’s powerless. He has to rely on others at the campsite to ensure his safety.

If he was working for Aku, then bro would be FINE. He wouldn’t be HERE, at the campsite.

If Aku is watching, then he doesn’t need a spy to keep an eye on Jack & the others for him.

THAT’s why I believe Demongo isn’t just fooling everyone to get info for Aku.

Hell, a friend of mine suggests that Demongo may not even KNOW if Aku still wants the fiery lil guy working for him, like he just pissed off his boss but never got that notice that he got fired. Maybe Demongo genuinely doesn’t even know.

Also, all of his missions are either about the master weapon or about himself & ensuring his reputation isn’t tarnished by his weakened state.

He doesn’t ask for anything suspicious.

Hell, when you DO get all the master weapons, he doesn’t get all giddy about having such powerful items at his disposal. No.

Because he too expects the player to use them to help win the fight against Fuse. He KNOWS their chances of winning are greatly enhanced by having the weapons in more capable & experienced hands…

& then Jack asks you to destroy them, but that’s a whole other story KWNWKWMWOSMWO

Demongo just never acts like he’s doing anything FOR Aku, & is just focusing on himself, probably because that’s the only thing he CAN focus on without his old master being there as a safety net.

Overall. I find this interpretation to be a FASCINATING way to better humanize his character a bit…

Speaking of humanizing him

The entire “Infernal Racket” set of missions talk about how hard it is for Demongo to concentrate when a bunch of floating rock head guys across the campsite keep smashing into each other like football players, & he remarks how he’s losing sleep over the noise.

Meaning he actually sleeps.

& considering he resides at a campsite

I can only imagine that one of those tents is his.

I just find that fact cute KWMWKWMWODMW

This also makes me think that Demongo has trouble concentrating if the environment isn’t quiet enough.

As someone with ADHD…

I can relate KWNWKWMWODMWODMOEFK

It is ALSO this line of missions that reveals something adorable about him

He has a favorite color.

& he doesn’t DEMAND blue ear muffs either.

He says it like he just asked you to get him a slushie, & he’s just like “I mean, I would LIKE a blue raspberry, but if they’re out, it’s fine. It’s whatever. I mean, I’s be a lil bummed out about it, but it’s no big deal, I guess.”

… which is also something I can relate to KWNWKWMWOWMWODKK

It’s like

One of the few times he acts so casual with you as the player.

It makes me think that he honestly WOULD act a lil more casually if he were to drop the whole “I’m super powerful” front & actually

Ya know

BE emotionally vulnerable for once.

& I think that’s a really sweet idea…

… Ah!!

I almost forgot!

Remember that “scheming” line from his NPC’s dialogue?

THIS is what I believe he is referring to when he says that.

He seems to actually STUDY the master weapons you collect.

Even Jack admits that he had immense knowledge regarding this kind of magical weaponry, which appears to be quite useful.

Additionally, Demongo is also the one to initiate one of the final & direct attacks in Fuse’s territory, having planned to use Eduardo’s imaginary energy against Fuse’s forces.

I’m almost certain HE planned out this attack.

Him being a good strategizer (if that’s even a legit word) honestly fits with his whole “making souls fight for him” shtick.

Sure, he probably isn’t a genius (ESPECIALLY in comparison to Dexter or Mojo), but he KNOWS how to plan attacks, & thus probably spends a lot of his time doing THAT as well.

That’s probably what he means by “scheming”.

It’s honestly a shock that he doesn’t boast about this clear skill of his like he does with his “powers”.

JACK is the one to point out how knowledgeable he is about magic & strategy.

To me, it kinda feels like Demongo takes his knowledge on these subjects GENUINELY seriously. Maybe it’s cause these are things that take him time to flesh out & perfect & shit, & he’s just so focused on learning & executing what he can that he doesn’t even think of it being necessary to brag about this shit.

I dunno. I just found that lil detail interesting KWMWKSMWOSSMOD

… speaking of having to interpret shit

This shit

Confused me

For the longest time

Until I eventually realized something:

They help him keep up a semi-menacing appearance.

I can imagine he uses them as discount fog machines, helping to make the atmosphere around him more mysterious & intimidating…

Which is SO fuckin dorky & also plays into his whole ��theater kid” personality…

… which can ALSO be seen HERE.

Guys

For the love of god

All we need now is confirmation that bro sings in his free time KWWMOWMWOSMSEODMEKN

Actually

Since we’re on the topic of Demongo’s goofy attributes

There is ONE more thing I wanted to share before I wrap up this post.

The world is fucking ENDING in this universe

& Demongo is FAR TOO PETTY & butt-hurt to even talk to Jack directly.

It is HILARIOUS KAMWKWSMWOSM

He’s such a brat sometimes, but that’s what makes him such a fun character in my eyes KWMWOWMWOSM

AAAAAANYWAY

That’s all I have for now.

If there’s anything I showcased here that you have a different interpretation for, POP OFF!!

I LOVE hearing people’s different takes on this kind of stuff!!

I love seeing how creative people can get OAMWKWMWKWMWOWMWOEOM

Uhhh anyway

I hope this post has opened some of your eyes about how much potential Demongo has as a character, inside & even outside of Fusionfall.

…

& ALSO makes you wish that Genndy treated him with just as much love & respect as the Fusionfall team did KWMWKWMWKDMEOFM

#Demongo #Fusionfall #fusion fall #Cartoon Network #samurai Jack #sj #day’s late night rambles #it’s technically night right???#7pm counts as night right?????#bah #I’m keeping the tag anyway KAMWKWMWOS #Hopefully I’ll find a reliable place to put that zip file for his NPC’s audio lines #cause I LOVE how sassy he sounds #& I want y’all to have that resource too KWMWKWMWOSMSODK

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