#sorry for not posting anything original for a while

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Hi, I'm someone who's interested in making a long-fic but just been struggling to do so. Alot of it just cause I really I'm not confident in my ability to write it well or that people will read it. Even though Neon Void was your first fic (I think) you managed to not only reach so many, but tell a story so deep and personal and moving that every time I re-read a snippet I find myself wanting to read a whole chapter.....and then the entire series.

If I can be so bold to ask, how did you do it? How did you take Neon Void and make it? What kept you from giving into the voices within and without that tell you to give up? How did you make sure the story was the best it could be. If you could go back, what would you do differently? What strategies would be best for someone who also wants to do a longfic?

Sorry if it's alot.

First, thank you so so much. It makes me super happy to hear that you thought it was moving and enjoy reading it!!

and don’t be sorry!! I’m super flattered that you wanted to ask me such a cool and thought provoking question!! Gunna hide most of this answer under a read-more as I get a little autobiographical, but in short:

You must be your own biggest fan

I’ll be honest— I had NO idea so many people would read my fic. The amount of positive feedback has blown me away and I couldn’t be more thankful for how nice the TMNT fandom has been to me (and my sister!!)

And you’re right! Neon Void WAS my first fic I ever published!! But I’ve been writing every day since I was a tween. I just love to write. But even then, I was nervous to post. No one except my closest friend had EVER read my writing before. I wasn’t sure if anyone would read it, or even like it since it was kind of a wacky premise.

But also in a way, it was okay if no one else read it, because I liked it. And that’s kind of the secret sauce to it all.

I have never, ever written anything this long before. Originally, TNV was going to be like, ten chapters max. I have no idea it would evolve into a nearly 30 chapter fic. And i think there were several factors that contributed to that.

First, I was utterly and totally obsessed with my own AU. When i started daydreaming about certain scenes over and over, i knew i had to write it. Being so invested in my own story was the biggest factor in actually finishing it. Which sounds so obvious, but the thing is I have a tendency to think of new AUs constantly. (Sometimes even daily.) The fact I kept revisiting this one was a sign that if i wanted to write it, now was the time.

Second, and this is piggybacking off of that last confession of always daydreaming new AUs, i knew i was on a personal timer. If i was going to do this, I had to make sure I did it. So i gave myself a goal of trying to post on a rough schedule to keep myself accountable.

(But remember!!!! It's just fanfiction!!! you never, ever have to put that kind of expectation on yourself! You don't need a posting schedule. You don't even need to finish. I personally pushed myself so hard to see it through because for years I told myself that if i was ever going to post fanfiction, i HAD to finish. It's okay if you don't!! I would never ask a writer or an artist to slog through something that doesn't bring them joy anymore. Because at the end of the day, fanfiction is meant to be fun!!)

BUT

Here's a bit of a confession. I didn't want to give up on it because it brought me a lot of joy during a rough year. I found myself sneaking on my phone at work to write a paragraph or two whenever I had the chance. I would think about it 24/7. I was in love with the story I was making up and looking forward to writing helped get through some not so Cowabunga times. I know posting your work is super intimidating-- and you might be tempted to stop-- but remember, if it makes you happy-- even for a while-- it's worth it. TNV was making my days a bit brighter even before I started posting it.

Which leads to my next confession-- and this is probably the biggest reason I was able to actually pull it off with a posting schedule:

I had already written 50%-60% of TNV before I even posted chapter 1.

And that was on purpose for several reasons. One, I was having so much fun planning easter eggs and planning long-term foreshadowing bits. Second, it was a test to see if this AU was really rotting my brain enough that I wanted to spend a lot of time writing it. By the time I had a lot written and scenes I was super eager to get to, I knew I wanted to post it. But having a bulk of it already written was a huge reassurance in trying to maintain my posting schedule. (But again, that was just my style! You can hit the ground running if you'd like, start and then pause for a while to figure things out-- whatever works best for you!!)

But even when i was insanely obsessed with my own AU, it still took a lot of time and energy to write. There will be times you will find yourself trudging through bridging scenes to get to the scenes you actually wanna write and it's sooooooooo haaaaaaaaard. BUT!!! It's worth it!!! Getting through it and seeing how it sets up the exciting part just right is soooooooo satisfying.

As for making sure the story was the best it could be??? I'm not sure!! Because there were definitely times I went whining to my sister and best friend about certain plot points or scenes, worried it wasn't good enough. There were a LOT of times a scene or idea just didn't feel right. Heck, a lot of chapters ended up in a different order than when I originally started writing!! The lesson I learned throughout the whole thing is that the original idea doesn't have to be absolute. Sometimes rearranging the scenes is just what you need!

But when i was REALLY struggling, I'd find myself referring back to the original source. It was what inspired a fanfic after all! Sometimes taking a step back and reevaluating each character's personality helped me shape the scene into something that felt better. Other times I had to step back and remind myself about what was actually important to the story. (Example: originally, I had no idea how to get Donnie to the hidden city by himself. At first I tried to think of some lore on the mask to give Donnie a reason to go investigating Void... but it didn't feel right. The mask wasn't important. Not even Void was the most important thing to Donnie at the time. Leo was. And that helped me sort of get rid of the loosey-goosey idea of giving a complicated back story to the mask that made the story feel muddled.)

But even then, I wasn't sure if certain moves were the best they could be! I was always worried (and continue to be) that I poured too much into descriptions, or spent too much time talking about emotions with too little action. Or that I overuse phrases. But so long as each chapter made me happy, I figured readers would enjoy them too.

If I could go back and do something different... I wouldn't have goofed with Leo's kraang parasite adaptation in Mad Dog Part 2: Prom. I was trying to make his parasite enter an obvious 'stage 2 boss battle' look, but later I realized I didn't like how I described it lol.

But!!! I will confess, I'm no saint-- when i started getting lovely comments, it helped pour gas on the fire to keep going. And that's why I'm so thankful for every comment or doodle or ask sent my way. You guys are amazing and helped me get the fire under my ass to keep going, even when things were really hard.

I know it sounds so corny and like a cop-out answer, but ultimately, it's YOUR personal investment in YOUR story that is the secret sauce!!! So long as your interested in it, it won't feel so impossible to write a long fic. There will be challenges (like there is with any project) but honestly?? If you're head over heels for your own story, it will be fun and fulfilling. Even if you don't finish-- so long as it made you happy, that's what matters the most. (Again, that's so cheesy... but just like Master Leonardo tells Leo, 'cheesiness makes the best pizza pies in life'.)

Thank you again so much for this fun ask-- and I believe in you! You've got this. Have fun, enjoy writing, and have confidence in your work, because it makes YOU happy, and that's the greatest thing a story could be.

[nymphomaniaa]

something about us — an outtake from "shot in the dark"

summary: schlatt feels bold while sharing a hotel room with you.

warnings: light angst.

notes: i sincerely apologize for chapter 19 of 'something about us' still not being released! life has been very cruel to me lately, cruel enough that i haven't had the time to really polish the new chapter. to apologize, i wanted to post this snippet i found in the depths of my storage, originally written in 2020. it was meant to be sandwiched somewhere chapter 5 and 6, but i removed it because it made the connection between the reader and schlatt feel way too rushed and unnatural. but it is definitely a noteworthy outtake, so i hope you enjoy it.

The two of you returned to the hotel room a few hours after the sun set. Shivers ran down your body as the cold ocean breeze outside cared less about your bare legs, so as soon as Schlatt opened the door for you, you immediately lunged for the warmth of your bed. You sighed, letting your face sink into the mattress, closing your eyes and taking in the sharp scent of cleaning agents and dust.

Schlatt sits next to you at the edge of the bed, groaning miserably from walking and being awake all day. He couldn't see you roll your eyes at the fact that he got to take a nap but you didn't. What could he possibly be tired from?

You lifted yourself off of the mattress and crawled to the foot of the bed. Schlatt had taken off his cap and tossed it onto his bed on the other side of the room, and now he was just sitting there, propping himself up with his lanky arms. You couldn't help but study the way his hair had perfectly framed his forehead whenever he took his hat off, and how his eyelashes fluttered whenever he looked at you.

Now that you noticed it, you two were sitting way too closely for you to be able to notice his eyelashes. But neither of you moved, sitting together, so close that if you even twitched, your arm would graze his arm, or his leg could push against yours. The looks exchanged between two people, alone in this room, started to make your face flush. The realization had hit Schlatt too, as he started to subconsciously lower his head to meet you at your level.

Quiet enough that you just barely hear it, he mutters, "...Can I kiss you?"

"What?" you blink back, confused.

"...Jesus Christ," he looks away sheepishly, immediately standing up, which shifts the weight on the mattress and almost tumbles you over the edge. "That was so fucking weird. That was so fucking weird, I'm so sorry. Please forget I said that."

"Wait," you stand up, but he steps further away from you, as if you were a growing flame he needed to avoid. You ignore his avoidance, putting your hand on his shoulder and pulling him back to face you again. He drags his head down, and illuminated by the dimmed skylights in the foyer, you can barely make out the way his jawline is tense.

"You're not... under the influence, or anything? Right?" you chuckled, partly from disbelief, and partly from the nervousness that comes with genuine concern.

"God, no. I don't do that. Not often, anyway," he puts his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, awkwardly averting his gaze from you.

"Schlatt," you trail your hand down from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the faintness of his racing heartbeat. "I mean, we only just met..." you whisper.

"I know," he sounds upset. "That's what makes this feel worse."

"Makes what feel worse?"

"Seriously just... just forget it—"

You stand on your toes and offer him a peck on the cheek, maybe as a gesture of comfort, but maybe because whatever he was feeling towards you was most definitely reciprocated. His eyes are as wide as golf balls as he stares down at you, almost glares down at you. A mischievous smile creeps up on your face, and with the open opportunity, you give him another peck on his other cheek.

"We... [Y/N], we basically just met," he takes his hand out of his pocket to place it gently over yours resting on his chest. "And you just got out of a relationship, this isn't—"

"Just—" you step closer to him, so that you can crane your neck up to meet his face. "Just kiss me."

His eyes, which were once darting all over the room, are now locked onto yours. Then, his glances are caught on your lips. Soon enough, he is unknowingly leaning down, far enough that his lips are millimeters away from grazing yours. As your eyelids drift to a close, he uses his free hand to gently touch your waist, then seals the deal.

It's a short, nervous kiss at first. But when he pulls away and sees you adoringly grinning at him, he feels enticed to kiss you again. For longer, this time. For himself, this time.

When he pulls away again, you chase him. Locked in another kiss, he notices the way you melt into his arms, and fully takes advantage of this moment to snake his other arm around your waist, greedily embracing you tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

But eventually, he does. He snaps back into reality, and harshly breaks the kiss.

"No. This isn't right," he says a little louder than a whisper this time, with conviction, as if he were being tried in court. "But why do you—"

"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "I feel so bad for falling for you within just the first few days of us meeting, but I just couldn't help myself."

He hesitates. "I think it's my loneliness making me feel something for the first attractive girl I've seen in months."

You feel conflicted. Does he not actually like you?

"Well, I think it's just my broken heart focusing on the good within you. But maybe there aren't a lot of bad things about you to begin with."

"You don't know me," he loosens his embrace with you, letting his arms fall to his sides. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"You don't know me that well either, but you still feel a certain way about me, right?" you grin optimistically. You catch a gleam in his eye as he accepts your logic.

The whistle of the wind outside paired with the rhythmic waves of the tide calm the tension between you and Schlatt. His steady, nervous breathing, shows up in his voice. "Can we just... pretend? Like everything is fine between us?"

"Everything is fine, though. What do you mean?"

"Like, I'm not saying I don't like you or anything, but this is... this feels like a dream. I want you so badly, but there are so many things in the way that prevent me from getting into another relationship."

You feel like you have been directly punched in the gut by him. It doesn't help that he is walking away from you, returning to his spot on his own bed. He climbs on top of his mattress, and you try to follow by sitting next to him, but he doesn't even look at you.

"Let's just keep this secret for now, okay? That's all I'm saying. Let's just keep things casual."

He says this a little too nonchalantly. From one moment, he was kissing you, but in the next moment, you might cry.

"Okay," you sweetly whisper, hiding the way your throat feels like it's closing up. Your heart aches.

The room is too dark for him to see your face, so by the tone of your voice alone, he feels like he has done the right thing. He feels like you are on exactly the same page as him. How convenient! For him, at least.

"I mean, maybe I'll take you on a few dates to get to know you more, we can have fun together, and hopefully over time... y'know."

"...But can we still talk about this a little before you leave for New York?" you whisper.

He grins up at you, reaching a free hand towards your face. He uses his thumb to caress your cheek, and his other fingers gently massage your scalp.

"Yeah. Before I leave for New York."

[chevroletdean]

Tainted — Chapter 1: Practice My Confession

SUMMARY: As his nightmares get worse, Dean realizes he’s turning into something he’s terrified of; he needs his girlfriend to promise him something.

SHIP: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (MOC!Dean x Reader, Demon!Dean x Reader) GENRE: Angst TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Seasons 9-10 spoilers, established relationship, angst, alcohol, violence & gore (a little grittier than canon level), mentions of torture WORD COUNT: 2.5k A/N: This is the first chapter of Tainted, and my second post for the @jacklesversebingo challenge! PROMPT: "I don't want to find out what I would do if I lost you." CREDIT & LINKS: header edited by myself ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ jacklesversebingo 2024 masterlist ──〃★ series masterlist

PLAYLIST

The clock's digits stared back at him, mockingly so — 4:06 AM. Their glow matched the same crimson shade that had originally startled him awake.

He was still breathless, too, after jolting up into a rigid, wide-eyed state.

Every fiber of him felt as if it was made of stone. Lifeless, cold, paralyzed. Everything except his heart, anyway. That part of him defied his stillness, hammering relentlessly against his ribs and threatening to leap into his throat.

Squinting, he averted his gaze by lowering his head. Reluctantly he blinked down to his hands, which were trembling in his lap. Though his clammy palms felt sticky and cold, a pang of relief washed through him when he realized it was simply sweat that was sticking to his skin.

He had half expected to see the blood still.

Just a nightmare, then.

Those weren’t anything out of the ordinary for Dean Winchester. The man had spent more sleepless nights in his life than he’d ever had the luxury of a full night’s rest.

However, this one was different. It was raw. Violent.

Last time his tormented slumber left him this hollow and shaken was years ago — back when the memories of Hell were still fresh in his mind. Even to this day, seven years later, the times of fire burning flesh and endless torture sent shivers down his spine. But it’s been a while since his dreams were this vivid.

The soft rustling of bedsheets pulled him back to reality.

“Dean?” — Her voice was thick with sleep and laced with concern. Just mere moments ago she had been fast asleep. Peaceful and calm at his side, grounding him as always. Except he was still unable to shake it off.

This feeling, which was just as attached to him as the symbol embedded into his skin.

“Hey,” was the only lame reply he could muster. Even the movement of his mouth felt askew and wrong. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Instead of replying, she reached towards the nightstand, flicked on the lights and sat up. Dean remained perfectly still at her side, his eyes still glued to his trembling hands.

That was until her hand entered his field of vision. The second he understood her attempt of grabbing his hands, he pulled his away. His shoulders stiffened further as he cleared his throat.

“Just a nightmare, ‘m fine,” the hunter grumbled, more to himself than anything, whilst swiftly swinging his legs over the edge of his side of the bed. He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs thrice, then ran his wiped hands through his messy hair only to realize his forehead was just as sticky with sweat.

Even with his back turned towards her, quite a literal manifestation of the impenetrable walls he liked to build around himself, she recognized the gravity of his ‘nightmare.’ His shoulders were slumped yet tense, and the way he avoided not only her gaze but also her touch caused her stomach to churn.

Right away she understood this was about more than just an unpleasant dream.

She watched in silence as he got up, barely making out the mumbled word “shower” as he slipped into the bathroom.

Part of her wanted to follow after him, just to make sure he was okay. As okay as he could be, anyway.

They’ve all noticed how on edge Dean was lately. Not that anyone blamed him for it, given the stressful nature of the past few weeks. Defeating Abaddon has taken a toll on Dean, more so than any of them wanted to admit.

They could’ve never killed a Knight of Hell without the Mark of Cain.

However, it became more and more obvious that the strings attached to this curse were heavier than originally anticipated. Desperate times had called for desperate measures. But seeing Dean slip away from sanity more and more made her question whether it was really worth it.

Ever since killing the demon, his temper became unpredictable.

Even his appetite had diminished as of late, shocking both Sam and her when he downright refused to order a cheeseburger at one of his favorite fast food spots. Furthermore, Dean’s patience ran thin lately, his recent behavior during cases increasingy reckless — if not downright suicidal. He’d charge into the enemies’ nest, guns blazing, just like that and without regard for any possible dangers.

Not to mention, the frequency of those nightmares have reached an all time high, a new record if you will. It wasn’t just the usual disruption of his four hours of shut-eye either; these were the kinds of nightmares that had him instinctively reach for the gun under his pillow, nightmares that left him giving up on going back to sleep at 4 AM.

She would’ve asked him to open up to her, but she knew that would be like talking to a brick wall. Whenever she’d test the waters, he’d dismiss her and avoid awkward conversations about his feelings.

Still, it was worth another try.

As she listened to the water running in the bathroom, she decided to slip out of bed as well, despite her own fatigue. Grabbing her fluffy robe and putting on her slippers, she used the small time window to head to the kitchen. Since it was the middle of the night, the bunker was eerily silent, every step of hers echoing off the bleak walls.

Once in the kitchen, she grabbed a kettle and two mugs, brewing up some tea. Something to warm and soothen those nerves of Dean’s. For good measure, she added more ingredients to both cups, then walked back to their shared room.

She kicked the door shut behind herself just in time for Dean to leave the bathroom.

Dean only stole a brief glance in her direction, before he sat down on the bed again, back leaning against the headboard. “You didn’t go back to sleep?”

“Figured a cup of tea would do us good,” she shrugged, crooked grin on her lips. She handed one of the cups to him and maneuvered herself to join his side. “Roiboos-Orange.”

Dean sniffed at the steaming liquid.

“Not to sound ungrateful, sweetheart,” he sighed, already moving to hand the cup back to her. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for a tea-party.”

“That’s a shame, ‘cause I even added the special secret ingredient,” she replied with a feigned pout and fished a small flask from the pocket of her robe, wiggling it in front of him. The quiet sloshing of rum inside indicated the bottle’s half-empty state.

Dean paused, then choked out a weak chuckle. Convinced, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. Behind the sweet aroma, a spicy note lingered, which admittedly did fill him with some warmth, at least.

“Bribing me with drinks now, huh?”

“Only for the special occasions,” she mumbled and went for a sip of her own cup. Normally she didn’t like endorsing Dean’s drinking habits, but she could tell he needed something to steel himself. Deseperate times, and such.

“Special occasions,” Dean echoed. He sure didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” she sighed, her fingers closing around the warm ceramic as if she could brace herself for a heavy conversation that way. “Your nightmare, what was it about?”

Unsurprisingly, silence followed.

With great effort, Dean stared at the golden colored mixture in his hand. He focused on the swirls of steam emitting from it, along with its herbal scent. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about it. Then again, he knew better than anyone that he couldn’t bottle it all up forever.

Then, Dean took a big swig of the warm tea, deeming it to be his liquid courage.

“Abaddon,” he vaguely answered at last.

“Abaddon,” she echoed, skepticism obvious in her tone. “But… you killed her months ago, Dean. She’s no longer a threat, right?”

“Right,” Dean hummed and allowed his finger to circle the rim of his cup. “She isn’t.”

At that, her brows knitted together in confusion. Admittedly, she didn’t understand what Dean was hinting at. If he wasn’t anxious about Abaddon, what else made him so skittish?

“It’s the Mark,” he gruffed through a strained voice, and he definitely did feel his throat close up, no matter how often he’d try to swallow the lump inside. “It’s this burning sensation, I— it felt good, killing her, you know?”

She remained silent at his side, listening with increasing confusion and tension.

“Because we had to defeat her,” she nodded in agreement, but Dean shook his head and she saw him clutch the cup until his knuckles turned white around it.

Clearly, she didn’t get what he was saying. Not at all.

Dean paused for a moment, unsure how to put it into words. Killing Abaddon hadn’t been a task of necessity. It had been one of urgency, the personal kind. He needed to kill her, yes, because every fiber of him had demanded it.

Because he wanted to do it.

“Because it was satisfying,” he corrected her with just a mutter under his breath, barely audible, as if he was ashamed to admit it. “The First Blade sinking into her was just, well, powerful. It was like scratching an itch.”

He stared ahead, blankly. Even in the dim light of their bedroom she saw the green of his eyes being swallowed by something dark and cold.

“It keeps replaying in my dreams, me killing her,” Dean mumbled.

He remembered every detail of it, even though at the time it had felt like he had just blacked out. Impaling Abaddon smoothly, her pained scream melting into her last breath, him stabbing the lifeless body again. And again, for good measure.

And again, and again, and again.

Sam had struggled to make him snap out of it, to make him drop the First Blade.

The familiar voice of his girlfriend reeled him back from the flashbacks. “You did what you had to do,” she reassured him, but he knew that it wasn’t as easy.

“I kill other demons in my dreams, too,” he continued, clearing his throat. “Tonight, I dreamt one attacked you and I just… I snapped and I ripped him apart. I’m talking limb after damn limb, severing sinew and muscle and tearing flesh from every fucking bone, until there is nothing left but pulp.”

It was the way he said it that sent cold shivers down her spine.

It was not as romantic as it may initially sound, not when his hands were twitching, jaw clenched and eyes filled with a sinister bloodlust. That was what it was all about.

The Mark of Cain was singing a siren’s song, calling for violence. Demanding bloodshed.

She knew her boyfriend would do anything to protect her. He’d kill for her in a heartbeat, without regret, if it meant keeping her safe. After all, Dean Winchester was known to be ruthless when it was necessary.

But was it really about fighting for her, or was it about ripping the enemy to shreds?

Dean’s small ministration — him scratching mindlessly at his lower arm where the Mark was embedded, burnt into him like a scar — told her he was after the latter. After the thrill of gutting foes like animals and drawing enough blood to quench the curse’s thirst.

It was an unsettling thought, both for her and for Dean.

They had already seen the darkness that came with the Mark of Cain, but the real grasp it had on Dean suddenly seemed much more terrifying.

She, too, remembered seeing him practically slaughter Abaddon.

But she also remembered him taking back control, and she knew he still held the reigns.

What he needed most now was trust. And she did trust him, with her life, always. Mark or not. So she reached for his hand for the second time this night. This time, her fingers grasped his wrist successfully, gently but firmly, and she pulled it away from his arm so he’d stop scratching the Mark.

“It was just a dream, baby.” Despite her greatest effort, there was a slight tremble in her voice.

Her eyes searched his green ones and she saw the turmoil within. The look of exasperation.

He was so tired.

“You don’t get it,” he huffed, his voice breathless and broken. “I enjoyed it.”

Was it about vengance? Maybe.

But even more so it was about the sheer simplicity of it. The twisted needs falling into place so perfectly whenever, dream or not, he’d sink a knife into flesh, crack bones and drain as much blood as possible, until it was hot and sticky on his hands.

The Mark craved it, corrupting him slowly but surely into madness. It was constanty calling for him to do unspeakable things, even now.

It demanded him to kill.

“I’m scared of what I’m capable of,” he whispered through a strained voice and squeezed her hand, clinging to her like his life depended on it. “In that nightmare, you were just gone and I… I couldn’t control it. I just saw red and it felt so fucking real.”

Without hesitation, she reached over him, placing her cup of tea on the nightstand on his side and adding his right with it. With both of her and both of his hands free now, she interlocked their fingers together.

“It wasn’t real,” she reassured him. “You can control it, you always did.”

Dean took a shaky breath and scoffed. So far, yes, she was right. But what if one day he’d fail and lose his composure? He felt like he was hanging on by a thread. And he was way too weak to hold on for much longer.

He was slipping. He knew he was. It was only a matter of time.

His voice was so defeated, weeks of exhaustion weighing down heavily on him: “I don’t want to find out what I would do if I lost you.”

Those words were a stab to her chest. She didn’t even know what to reply with. No words could console him, she felt just as helpless.

“We’ll find a way to get rid of it,” she whispered, but they both knew she couldn’t promise something like that.

They could try, and they have looked into just about everything. But it was a losing battle, honestly. There wasn’t much lore on Cain, much less on the curse and how to remove it.

“No,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “No, ‘cause if not, then— I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Dean—”

“You have to stop it,” he interrupted her. “If things go to shit— when they go to shit, you have to stop it. Stop me.”

The invisible stab-wound in her chest froze to solid ice. He was talking as if he had already given up on a cure. Was it so wrong to still have faith?

“Nothing will go to shit,” she insisted, letting go of his hands only to cup his face instead. “Look at me. We won’t let you down like that, you know that, right?”

He regarded her words for a moment, but the silence between them was heavy and the despair palpable.

“Promise me you’ll put an end to it if things go wrong,” he spoke, begged. “Please.”

Dean Winchester Taglist: @ladysparkles78 @deaniemyboo @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

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@midnight--raine @emmy21842

Put a green heart 💚 in the comments to be added to the Dean x Reader taglist. Let me know, if you want to be tagged for this Series specifically. (Please note: Ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts!)

[kyouka-supremacy]

I think we should just bring back Wungo Wednesday and start a fandom collective anime rewatch

[stygianheart]

I think one of my “favorite” things is when people misinterpret what it means to be aroace. Watching people so clearly not understand the complexity behind the spectrum of aromatic and asexuality and then proceed to say they “stand with” aroace as an ally is so hilarious to me. Especially when they use this to start bashing on a perfectly fine ship, especially because said ship gets in the way of theirs.

Aroace does not mean no attraction. The plastered poster face for it is people who don’t feel ANY types of attraction, but that does not mean everyone. Aromantic people can date and fall in love. Asexual people can fuck. Aroace people can do both.

Yes, aroace rep IS needed. But we still have it via Luffy—just because Luffy kisses someone (hypothetically) doesn’t mean we just yeeted the aroace label off of him. He is STILL aroace. You know who else is aroace? Bon Clay, for one. Zoro as well. Yet I don’t see people screaming that shipping Zoro with someone completely erases the aroace label, now do I?

Ugh, I’d totally make a whole ass essay about this, but it’s half till midnight. It’s just. Been on my mind for a few hours and I need to say a little shit

[theladyfae]

42 / lost brilliance, rita dove

[sn0wbat]

sparkle on, tiberius ✨

[bmpmp3]

yesterday in vocal synth news

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[massgrav]

You have exactly three seconds to put me down, boy

——

Warden Jowan + Uldred survives AU = formerly soft weak boi becomes strong enough to pick up his old tall ghoul bf

[numberoneanika]

Honestly the roleplay blogs are stronger than I am because if I saw a post where people were saying my blog was annoying and calling me corny I would jump in a large pit and rot away

[ch3rrytr3e]

OC commission... Thank you so much!!

[blood-and-winter-buckynat]

Mistletoe Angst, digital collage and Prismacolor

[mashmouths]

anyone want to pull an edna pontellier with me

[themyscirah]

Okay so basically the United States MINT of all people is going to be working with DC to make a line of coins! These coins sadly won't be in circulation (the things I would do to live in a world where I could get Batman coins from the supermarket) as they're collectors coins, but will be releasing over the course of the next 3 years, 2025-2027.

Designs haven't been released yet (the same is true for all 2025 designs) but we know there will be 9 coins in total (3 each year) with the first year featuring (of course!!!) Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.

Although we know the first three heroes to be featured, the remaining six have yet to be decided, and it turns out the Mint is putting out a survey on their site to gauge which of a group of culturally significant heroes people want to see most! (link to the form is mentioned in the article above)

The considered group includes: Supergirl, the Flash, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Captain Marvel, John Stewart GL, Aquaman, Hawkman, Jamie Reyes BB, Robin (Damian?), Cyborg, and Batgirl, of which 6 will be selected.

As someone who does a bit of coin collecting myself (mainly circulation coins like the quarters sets, but I also have a couple proof and collectors coins) I think this is a really cool and interesting idea that showcases the history of the comics medium and these characters and their influence on American culture. Really excited to wait and see what the designs look like for the coins already announced!