#the hunting duo from hell

[fatedroses]

I offer the frankly hilarious scenario of zenos and estinien having to work together (probably because of tataru) and a little bit of headcanon-ing I have in regards to the one main issue they run in to when theyre a duo.

[takaraphoenix]

I saw someone refer to Steter as a comedy relief duo earlier and it just completely sent me, because that's just... so far from what Steter is, in canon?

As I'm currently rewatching the show, it has shot up into being my favorite ship on the show because of the gravitas it has.

It's a ship that highlights Stiles' fearlessness in such intriguing ways, in canon. From the boy who yelled at a feral Alpha in the school, to their first face to face meeting at the hospital, when Peter recognizes him, knows him, acknowledges him ("You must be Stiles", as though Stiles' reputation as the one who figures things out proceeds him, as he is the first one to put together that Peter is the Alpha).

There's nothing comedic about the scene on the lacrosse field, when Stiles is kneelng beside Lydia's unconscious form and Peter... for reasons beyond comprehension... decides to curl his claws beneath Stiles' chin and guide him up. Not grab him by the arm and haul him up, not command him, not demand.

This is... sensual, filled with tension, and I don't even necessarily mean the sexual tension (even though the imagery of Stiles kneeling before Peter and Peter grasping his chin is something that I find hard to not see a sexual read on).

Peter kidnaps Stiles into the parking garage to force the boy to track down Derek and, sure, the "His username is Allison? His password is also Allison?" - "Still want him in your pack?" is absolutely iconic and is comedic... how do you boil that entire exchange down to "comedy relief"?

The way Peter offers Stiles the bite - Peter, who so far, only took whatever he wanted, never asked or offered - and doesn't force when Stiles says "No". Even the way Peter catches Stiles on the lie is a moment of tension and revelation on Stiles' part. The way Peter acknowledges Stiles as the clever one.

The season 1 finale? When Stiles sets the survivor of a horrific house fire on fire? Absolute riot, huh. It's vicious, it's cruel - it's everything.

And when Peter is resurrected? Sure, Stiles sarcastically asks if someone can kill him again and sure, Peter snarks about living in a cave system. But even in that episode, these brief comedic moments are absolutely overshadowed by the way Peter and Stiles work together, figure out what the vault is made of, then call Scott to warn him and Derek, by finishing each other's sentences. Two brilliant minds working together, on the same wavelength.

The next time they interact is when Peter tells Stiles about Paige, explains what the blue eyes mean. It's one of the more heavy and serious moments in the season, aside from all the death scenes. It's a big lore drop and character background on both Peter and Derek. And it's Stiles this information is shared with. It's a serious moment and even as Peter tells it all, Stiles doesn't trust, sees past the silver tongue and that too is part of the appeal.

When Peter and Stiles work together to save Cora's life in the hospital, while the Alpha Pack is hunting them down? Blind trust. Stiles asks Peter to help him and Peter doesn't even ask, much less quip, he just follows Stiles' lead and they work together.

Now, I'll admit, I haven't seen seasons 3B through 6 in six years and hey, maybe they'll be a real Abbott and Costello in season 4 and I'm just not remembering it, but damn it all to hell if the first half of the show doesn't present them as two clever minds challenging each other, with a growth from terror and pain to respect and teamwork.

I understand and respect not liking a ship, but I am genuinely baffled when people deliberately misinterpret a canon to suit their needs. Always makes me wonder what alternate reality's version of the show they were watching, surely not the same as me.

[selenezq]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

After a long wait, (thanks depression) my fic where Alastor rails you in a sundress is finally here.

Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

CW: dub con, stalking, rough sex, explicit content, porn no plot, plot where, plot who

Sundress Summer

It was a hot, but not unpleasantly so day in hell. 

The perfect time for wearing a sundress to the picnic Charlie had organized for the bonding exercise of the day. The first thing you noticed as you came to the end of the well-maintained stone walkway was the large red and white checkered tablecloths which covered two sizeable wooden picnic tables to your right. The pleasant breeze caused the edges of the fabric to flutter against the sides of the tables. 

A massive spread of food covered both surface areas; it was more than they could all eat truly but it was clear Charlie had tried her best to create another memorable experience for her guests. You smiled from ear to ear with joy at the sight of all your friends together enjoying a day at the park. Husk and Angel Dust were seated on one of the benches lining the massive spread, the spider demon trying his best to get Husk to eat the grape he was attempting to feed him. 

"C'mon, just let me feed ya one." Angel whined at the former overlord pushing the piece of fruit towards him. 

"Cut that shit out, I can feed myself." Husk growled gruffly, as he swatted half-heartedly at Angel's hand before relenting. "Just one, and then leave it alone alright?"

Husk took a surveying glance around to ensure no one was watching the two of them. You quickly looked in the opposite direction to your left, faining interest in a passing butterfly so as not to intrude on their moment. You tried your best to hide a delighted smile. 

With a resigned sigh, Husk let Angel gently feed him a lone grape. "Ah yeah, you like that in ya mouth daddy?" Angel says salaciously with a flirtatious grin. 

"Fucking hell, you just had to go and make it weird didn't you," Husk scolded, before giving the tall demon a small shove. You did your best to hold in a laugh, ensuring not to make eye contact with the duo. Your ocular muscles searched for the rest of the group, coming to a stop when you spotted Charlie, excitedly pointing to something in the distance. 

"Ohmygosh Vaggie look!!" She exclaimed excitedly, her words strung all together in exuberance. "I can't believe this Infernenta plant is flowering!" Charlie said before skipping joyfully over towards the flowering bush. 

She skipped joyfully over towards the flowering bush, her girlfriend watching with a loving expression. Eyes which were usually fierce and full of rage softened before she followed after Charlie. “Yeah, that’s really cool babe.” She said, her voice beginning to fade as she walked further away from you. 

You smiled fondly as you watched them go—the two of them were very sweet together. Niffty quickly took over your vision as she dashed around, pulling your attention away from the two lovebirds. She held her needle high in the air with her little hand; she was on the hunt, chasing a particularly large bug. 

With a small shudder, you turned around and headed towards an opening in the woods, determined to explore. The thoughts in your busy mind dwelled on the members of your unorthodox group of friends until it occurred to you that had not yet seen Alastor. You wondered what he could be up to—though he rarely joined in on bonding activities. 

You pondered deeply on how glad you were to have met them all as your feet took you down a slightly overgrown path, large weeds sprouting between the cracks on the deteriorated stone passage. Lost in your internal musing, you failed to notice a pair of glowing red eyes watching you from the distance; the hunter was tracking your every move. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Radio Demon watched you from the shadows, hidden behind massive amounts of lush, green, foliage. It was a position most familiar to him from his time alive, hiding from plain sight while he waited for the perfect moment to approach his prey. He watched you with an ill-intended gaze, as the short patterned material of your sundress highlighted the beautiful curves of your body. An unfamiliar feeling of desire coursed through him as he feasted his eyes on the sight of you wandering, helplessly alone. You were completely unaware of the danger that lurked behind you—the perfect, irresistible prey. 

Alastor was more than well-adjusted to the way the others at the hotel viewed his presence. He was infamous for the danger he posed, but you seemed content to naively ignore the threat he posed. Perhaps that was why he now found himself obsessed with you, needing to be constantly closer to you. No amount of effort could dissuade his need to be close to you; any amount of distance was simply unacceptable. The very lack of your presence had become most intolerable, to the point he found himself stalking you through the shadows, unable to look away from your gentle form. 

At first, these feelings had angered him. Alastor had tried his best to make you fear him, unused to all of the new sensations you evoked in him. Popping up from the shadows, scaring you when you were alone in the dimmed hallways of the hotel. You had always laughed in response, slapping his chest playfully as you laughed at his joke and were it anyone he would skin them alive for the unwanted touch. He found it most irritating when you would pull away as if your hand should ever be anywhere but on him. 

He started going out of his way to touch you—to make you uncomfortable. It was certainly not because he craved the feeling of your soft, warm, skin under his hand. It became a game he’d play, a way to see how far he could go, how long you would let his hand linger on you. Could he rouse a blush to those beautiful cheeks of yours? Somehow, he rather felt as though he might be losing the game you weren’t even aware you were playing. 

Many nights he spent time thinking about how your soft, shiny, hair would feel when he pulled your head back, locks wound around his claws. What noises your sweet, little, lips might let slip, the sight of your kind eyes widening. 

Would you let him ruin you if he tried? 

The question consumed him as he brought himself back to the sight of his beautiful prey: you. His eyes focused on your radiant presence while your face lit up in delight. You had stumbled upon a beautiful abandoned structure. It appeared this was once a grand gazebo, but time had eroded the marble away. Faint cracks could be seen amongst the vines and foliage that almost concealed it completely from view. 

He watched as you were unable to resist the urge to explore, pushing aside some of the greenery covering the entrance. You stepped inside, your graceful form illuminated by slivers of Heaven���s light, shining like sunlight through the thick canopy surrounding the structure. 

You were almost completely obstructed from the view of anyone who might come along and it sent a shiver down his back—what a delightful thought, to always have you to himself. 

He stalked forward slowly, careful to remain quiet so you would not ruin his little game too early. Hunting for sport was second nature to the demon; hiding amidst the shadows was something Alastor had become quite familiar with. The sight of you blissfully unaware of the potential danger you were in was almost too much to bare; he needed to start the next round of his manipulative little game lest you broke him before he got the chance to break you. 

He materialized behind you, his form becoming more corporeal until he was a solid mass that you bumped into when you took a step back. You let out a most exquisite scream of fear as he startled you and a wide, malicious grin spread across his face. You turned quickly to face him, and he watched as your facial expression melted into relief. He was unsure how he felt about the sensation bubbling in his stomach—he brought you ease. Alastor lived to strike fear into the hearts of others, but he could make an exception—just this once.  

"Oh, it's just you. That's such a relief." You said with a genuine smile. 

"My, my... You are quite a sight for sore eyes. I could just eat you up." Alastor almost purred, his voice thick with his usual filter. Static popped in the air as he stepped closer to you; after such a long hunt, he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"You mean me?" You squeaked in disbelief, insecurity seeping through your voice.

"See here, exactly how fetching I find you, darling." Alastor told you, before grabbing your wrist. 

He guided your soft palm to the hardness barely contained by his trousers, a true test to see how far he could push you. How much you would allow him to greedily take? Would this be the time he finally pushed you too far and you realized the peril you were in, being the object of his dark fascination? 

He watched hungrily as your eyes widened in surprise, a pretty pink tongue darting out to wet your lips. 

“This is all for me?” You asked, voice laced in awe and he wanted to consume you. 

You were a curious creature, a difficult prey to understand. You never gave him the responses he was expecting, and yet always gave him a response he enjoyed. Rather than flee from the evident danger you found yourself in, you seemed quite pleased at his forward and lewd actions—what a foolish girl. 

“Well of course my dear, who else would it be for?” Alastor teased, his voice full of amusement as he gestured to the empty overgrown gazebo. He brought a clawed hand down to cover your own, his large hand dwarfing your much smaller one as he pressed your hand closer to the tent in his pants. He let out a strangled groan at the much-needed contact, his usual composure falling apart every minute he spent in your presence. “The things you do to me, pet. This is all for you, because of you.” 

He thrust his hips up into your touch, chasing your nimble fingers before he allowed himself to regain control of himself. He melted away into the shadows with a quick use of his powers and the warm tension of having him pressed against you was gone. It was amusing to him how evident you made it that you were desperate for his touch. A menacing laugh echoed around the gazebo as he slid up from the pool of shadows at your feet behind you, shoving you back into the siding of the shelter. You fell briefly, your sundress bunching around your hips exposing your cunt and the tiny piece of fabric that covered it from view. 

You were an absolute vision, he noted. He was addicted to this version of you, vulnerable and needy for him and him alone. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, Alastor brought his much larger hand to rest on your leg. His rough scarred skin pressed against your much softer skin, and you shivered against him beautifully. He wondered how long he could stand to do this to you, playing with you simply because he knew you’d let him—could he finally make you snap?

He teasingly brought his hand up your thigh, ghosting a finger along your clothed slit. He swallowed a hungry growl as a fresh round of wetness gushed into your panties at even the faintest touch. Every single stroke, every touch, was methodical and planned—he wanted to watch you come undone. He held himself with tension, holding himself back from ruining you completely. 

You lifted your hips just enough, wordlessly signalling to him just how eager you were. It broke the hold he had over himself, the shred of control he kept in place to protect you. He shredded the flimsy undergarment, letting it drop by your feet as an unusable scrap of fabric. His fingers traced harsh, heavy circles around your swollen clit and it was pure bliss to watch as you threw your head back, releasing a muffled cry of bliss. 

He plunged a dexterous finger into you without warning. A ragged, desperate moan escaped your lips and he watched as your face seemed to glow a bright scarlet in humiliation. He curled his finger inside of you, watching as your body shook for him but it wasn’t enough. He needed to drive his cock deep inside you, to feel your pussy clench around him while you moaned just like that. Despite the fact you should be ashamed, you rutted against him and it was enough to drive the best of men mad—and Alastor was not the best of men by a long shot. 

He pulled his finger out of you, bringing it to his mouth before licking it clean. He swiftly undid his belt, before moving to pull the zipper on his pants down. The sound reverberated in the small hidden gazebo and he watched as you dripped in anticipation for him—he hadn’t hungered like this in centuries. He tugged his trousers down around his firm thighs and his massive cock sprung free. You let out a small whimper as you looked at his cock, a mixture of anticipation and fear shining in your eyes. 

“I can assure you, darling, that it will fit. You’re going to take every single inch of me.” Alastor commanded; the incredulous look in your eyes only spurring him on. 

He watched as your pussy clenched desperately with need around empty air, and his rock-hard cock glistened with precum. You were a marvel to behold. 

“Alastor, please, don’t make me wait any longer. I—I need you.” You admitted with a plea, a blush dusting across your face from the sound of your own needy voice. 

He pushed you further back against the siding of the forgotten structure you had found yourselves in, your back hit the siding with a soft thud. He lifted your leg up to wrap it around his waist as he slotted himself against your dripping pussy, rubbing the swollen head of his member between your folds, before he pushed to be inside of you. 

He moved slowly, inch by inch until his considerable length was seated within you. Your warm walls gripped him tightly and he let out a shaky groan. An aggressive buzz, filled with fizzles and pops, filled the air as he made himself wait, letting you adjust to his large size. His eyes glowed as he gazed down at you fondly. “You’re such a good girl, taking all of me so well. You’re mine now.” He growled possessively, a hand coming up to grip your waist. “Say it, tell me who you belong to.” 

There was a manic edge to his words, a need for you to understand that he owned you. 

“You. I belong to you, Alastor!” You cried out in pleasure, without hesitation, and he picked up his pace in response. You were such a good girl; you knew exactly where you belonged. His hips slammed his cock in and out of you, chasing your delightful cries and screams. 

The final strand of control within him snapped as he looked upon your debauched form. His antlers grew high and heavy above his head, his eyes becoming dials as he lost himself in his desire for you. His cock swelled within you, so large that he feared he might just break you. You released a soft whimper as he felt the head of his cock bumping into your cervix, but rather than push him away, you clawed at him to bring him closer—you were perfection. 

“I never imagined I’d feel so complete being inside you like this, darling.” Alastor confessed, lost in the throes of ecstasy. He brought a hand up, lavishing his attention on your clit as he picked up the pace. He felt your body begin to shake and he knew it wouldn’t be long, he felt you coming undone with every stroke of his digits, every thrust of his colossal member was bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Alastor, don’t stop! I’m getting close!” You pleaded desperately. 

Immediately at your words, he stopped completely. He rested his fingers on your throbbing clit, his dick painfully still inside of your tight heat. You let out a frustrated sob, a lone tear welling up in your eyes and he leaned forward to lick it off your cheek. The sight of you, a desperate and quivering mess was enough to move even the staunchest of sadists. 

“Please, please, please.” You begged, all sense of dignity lost. A tear fell down your cheek and he relished the moment of triumph in his twisted game. The sight of you crying and desperate beneath him brought him a degenerative sense of glee—he needed to make you cry more in the future. “Alastor, I’ve dreamed of this so often! I need to—please let—if I could just cum!” 

“Hmm, I should like to think to think a bright young girl such as yourself could articulate that better, my dear.” He replied, a sadistic smile stretching across his face as he leered down at you. 

“You’re being so cruel.” You cried out, voice dripping with desperation and it fed the hunger deep within him. He had no witty retort to return to your cries—he wanted you to beg. “Please, I’m begging you—I’ve touched myself thinking of you so many times. I never even dreamed you would return my desire. I can’t—I need you to move—to fuck me silly until I cum around your giant cock—please.”

You pleaded sweetly, your voice dripping with desperation and need for him that brought him immense joy and good girls got rewarded. 

“Your pleas are music to my ears pet, I suppose they’ve earned you a reward. You’re so pretty when you beg.” He asserted before resuming his brutal pace. Beautiful euphoric tears fell down your cheeks, painting them so prettily, as he fucked into you. He felt you tighten around him, and in a direct constant to his rough pace, he brought his other hand up to gently cradle your face. He pressed his lips to yours, moaning as your soft lips parted to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. He laid claim to every inch of you he touched. 

“Alastor!” You cried into his mouth, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You collapsed into him, allowing him to support your weight as he continued to fuck into your quivering body. Your cunt clenched deliciously around him as you rocked your hips backwards, chasing the friction he provided desperately. The sight of you so thoroughly debauched combined with the sensation of your walls gripping him tightly sent him over the edge. He shot thick ropes of cum inside of you as he finished with a loud groan, breaking away from the kiss.

The sound of your combined panting and heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent air, and he rested his head in the crook of your neck. “Ma biche, that was even better than I could have possibly imagined.” He praised, mumbling the words into your neck. You both lay intertwined for a while, neither wanting to break the silence and end the moment.

“We should find the others before they find us, but I’d love to do this again.” You said, and he could hear the desperate plea in your voice—good. 

“Of course we will do this again, you belong to me now.” He replied, matter-of-factly. 

He snapped his two fingers together, returning the two of you to your prior state of dress. The mess was gone as if it had never been there, though he loathed to return your undergarments to you. “Shall we, darling?” 

You shot him a contented smile as you linked your arm with his, allowing him to lead you back to where the rest of the group was still enjoying the picnic.

Tag list @cosmiccandydreamer @alastorthirsty @ari-hatake15

[sh4rk-k1d]

The Curious

This is my first ever fic so I'm open to any advice or criticism you guys have to offer! 

It was cool and dark, a perfect night really. Families and pets asleep, the moon was shining brightly. 

It was perfect. 

For everyone except the infamous crime fighting duo, Batman and Robin who were out in the shadows, beating criminals, stopping muggers, the typical crime-stopping business they do every night, except there was one thing different this night...for a few nights now. This time there was a screech, a loud excruciating, deafening screech, something new had been appearing for the past few years, just a few years after the wealthy and philanthropic businessman Bruce Wayne was born, these cryptid creatures that seem to have come out of nowhere, and they came hungry and violent, the Justice League has tried as much as possible to get rid of these creatures, kill them even but they never could. 

People should have been afraid, should have feared these seemingly demonic creatures, but they weren't because they had superheroes! They must have been safe right? Thats what these heroes told them anyways, that they had nothing to fear, that they were here to help, to save, save them, keep them alive. 

But as the number of deaths kept increasing, people in Gotham and Metropolis felt fear that their heroes couldn’t keep them safe anymore. 

But with these new creatures from hell-spawned, so did a new savior, a child, born in a low-income hospital, and then there were more, more children with an abnormal ability to transform into weapons, others able to form a soul-bond with these weapon children, able to wield them perfectly, almost as if they were created for each other, and each other only, when people found out about these children, naturally they were afraid of what they were capable of, but that fear soon turned into hopefulness when two of the children were able to fully kill one of these creatures. 

Then came the academy, once people found out about these unique children, good and bad came naturally, some wanted to praise the children for protecting them, others wanted them gone thinking the now known “Soul Eaters” creatures came because of them, then there were another group of people who wanted to dissect them. 

So, the “Death Weapon Meister Academy” was formed, a “safe haven” so to speak, a place where the children wouldn’t have to worry about being hated and hunted by the world, a place where they could learn to use their abilities without fear of hurting others, and a place where they would be surrounded by people who could understand them, the academy is also the most secluded and mysterious organization to ever be formed, the Superman himself couldn’t even try to break in or hear and see inside if he wanted too, why? Hell he doesn’t even know, but what they do know is that once you go in, there's no going out unless you get sent on a mission, everyone knows that if you birth a weapon or meister child then the academy will know, another mystery,  how they always find a weapon, or a meister child, these children come as partners, two or three, they come to give their assistance then they leave, somehow they wear no mask yet no one has ever seen their face, too busy escaping the creatures that was originally trying to eat them probably, even if you do stay, it won't be awake, these children are trained to knock you out to stay out of the way. 

Bruce Wayne was part of the “dissecting” people, he didn't want to harm the children, really, he didn’t, but it was a human instinct to fear or study the worlds mysteries, Bruce has seen many metas in his life, hell he had, Duke Thomas, as part of his family, but nothing like these kids, no, these children were something else, something else entirely, something that caught his attention, naturally his children must have seen these meta kids, and well, form a need to study them too, not like there was much to study though, no information about these kids made it out of the safety of the academy, yet they tried, and failed. 

Failure. 

Something that didn't stop at figuring out about the mystery on the inside of the academy, but inside their very own house. 

Because there was you, yes you. Poor little innocent, neglected, ignored, you. 

You. 

What a curious person you are, had lived in a house full of detective vigilantes, yet they didn’t see that there was something different about you, something...abnormal. 

Well, you couldn’t blame them could you? They were busy! Too busy to pay you attention for the last two..three...eight years? They were out doing vigilante stuff!...so you can't be that mad that they didn’t see how your leg lit up in the dead of night and then transformed into a....blade? And, as you sit on the floor, eyes blown wide, heart beating a mile a minute, breathing rapidly until your lungs felt as if they were about to burst, your hands gripping the floor till your nails bled. 

You felt, truly, Alive. 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Charlie. You know I love you, right?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “…before I answer, can I ask YOU a question?”

Vaggie: “Sure, babe. Fire away.”

Charlie: “Okay.”

Charlie: “Is this about the singing cannibal quartet love song turned massacre in the hotel lobby?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Is it about the supposedly non-man eating flowers that tried eating Angel Dust, which Niffty won’t let us get rid of now because she wants to train them to hunt cockroaches with her?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Is it about the alleged cookies Husk is still in bed recovering from taste testing?”

Vaggie: “Those were cookies?”

Charlie: “Allegedly. In a previous life maybe.”

Vaggie: “Huh. They weren’t bad.”

Charlie: “They- Vaggie, you didn’t actually EAT-”

Vaggie: “After wrestling Angel Dust out of the third flower in a row? I was hungry. The kitchen was on fire earlier so I knew you’d made something. And they were sitting in a common area, unclaimed and unlabeled.”

Charlie: “I put CAUTION TAPE around them!!”

Vaggie: “We don’t have anyone staying here named Caution or Hazardous Waste. Not yet, anyway.”

Charlie: “ARE YOU FEELING OKAY!?”

Vaggie: “Fine. This isn’t about the uh, ‘alleged cookies’.”

Charlie: “Well then what is it about? Am I forgetting something else?”

Vaggie: “Maybe. Are you gonna answer my question now?”

Charlie: “Of course I know you love me, Vaggie. Absolutely."

Vaggie: "Then-"

Charlie: "A dangerous amount, even- you sure you’re feeling alright? Those cookies... poor Husk…”

Vaggie: “Husk is on average 40% alcohol and not used to solid foods. This was a good learning experience for him, trust me.”

Charlie: “I do! I do I do, I just, also really hope Angel Dust knows how to BE an actual bedside nurse as well as DRESS like one. A. Sexy one.”

Vaggie: “We’ll save Husk from medical malpractice in a minute. Right now though…”

Vaggie: (smooch the tol gf)

Charlie: “?”

Vaggie: “You don’t have to do extra things like this, sweetie.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Vaggie: “Not that I didn’t love the thought behind it.”

Charlie: “There were no thoughts. Just, wow I love my girlfriend, wow I really hope she knows I love her.”

Vaggie: “I do. You’re amazing, and doing normal hotel crisis things with you is already amazing enough.”

Charlie: (droops) “I know, I know…”

Vaggie: “So?”

Charlie: “Well that’s the THING though! We’ve only been doing hotel stuff!”

Vaggie: “It’s a pretty wide range of activities you gotta admit.”

Charlie: “Oh sure right, sooo varied- stop a murder, fight to stop a murder, try not to do a murder, replace THIS fix THAT organize another group talk and go into red alert whenever the things get suspiciously quiet- go collect the bodies, probably reassemble them, pay the bills, supervised arts and crafts and Cherri still makes a BOMB somehow-”

Vaggie: “Everyone getting together to blow it up outside was kinda sweet.”

Charlie: “And that’s great! We’re doing great, things are going good, it’s just- WE don’t do anything that’s just for US.”

Vaggie: “That what’s bothering you?”

Charlie: “Bothering me? BOTHERING ME?? Vaggie our last outing together was dragging you back up to HEAVEN where the people who left you in hell also BLAKMAILED YOU!"

Vaggie: "Could've been worse."

Charlie: "IT WAS HORRIBLE! A NEGATIVE TIME TOGTHER! I’m gonna explode- I haven’t taken you on an actual date in MONTHS!!!”

Vaggie: “So let’s go then.”

Charlie: “I know we can’t just leave the hotel, but that doesn’t stop-”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Huh?”

Vaggie: “Let’s go. We can take the rest of the night off.”

Charlie: “….can we?”

Vaggie: “Sure. Niffty’s busy with her new murder plant buddies, Husk’s busy being sick, Angel Dust’s busy with Husk, and Cherri Bomb… well. If the singing cannibal duo wants to keep playing exploding volleyball with her out back then that’s their problem, not ours.”

Charlie: “It’ll be our problem REAL quick if anyone spikes the bomb at the hotel!”

Vaggie: “It’ll be just another Tuesday, another hole in the wall, and a chance for Cherri to learn about the wonders of vacuum cleaners and wall plaster.”

Charlie: “Which you won’t be able to sleep knowing about until you’ve redone the whole thing yourself.”

Vaggie: “That’s still just another Tuesday.”

Charlie: “What about Husk being sick? AND suffering under Angel Dust’s dubiously sexy medical care?”

Vaggie: “If they’re bothering each other they can’t be getting into trouble with anyone else. Win-win.”

Charlie: “Niffty is building an army.”

Vaggie: “Good for her.”

Charlie: “She might be planning on wiping out all life in the hotel???”

Vaggie: “Hell forbid the cleaning ladies do anything.”

Charlie: “Why are you suddenly so okay with mess and chaos? You HATE messes and chaos! You patrol the hotel just to check everyone’s doing what you thought they’d be doing, based on all the little schedules you keep making on them!”

Vaggie: “Which they didn’t need to hear you yelling about but sure.”

Charlie: “You refold all my laundry so the creases line up just right! Why- oh no.”

Charlie: (gasp) “Vaggie, don’t panic, but I think the evil fail cookies are affecting you-”

Vaggie: “Charlie-” (laughing) “-no, they’re not. Maybe I’m fine with a little extra mess and chaos, if it means spending time with you.”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Vaggie: “Triangle. Wanna go on a date with me?”

Charlie: “YE- wait, you’re sure though?”

Vaggie: “I’m sure.”

Charlie: “Really sure?”

Vaggie: “Very.”

Charlie: “It’s not a fun date if it makes you super stressed afterwards.”

Vaggie: “I’m always stressed. It’d be nice if I could at least get some uninterrupted ‘stare at my beautiful girlfriend’ time while I’m at it.”

Charlie: “The hotel’s gonna be in RUINS when we get back. Our friends might be on fire by then.”

Vaggie: “C’mon, they’re not our kids. They’re all responsible adults….”

Chaggie: “…..”

Vaggie: “….they’re all adults…”

Charlie: “Who we’re kinda responsible for…?”

Vaggie: “Not for tonight.”

Charlie: (sighing) “That WOULD be nice.”

Vaggie: “So let’s make it happen. Date night?”

Charlie: “-ES YES YES YES YES-”

Vaggie: “That a yes?”

Charlie: “YES!!! I- Hold on, wait wait, I’ve got-”

Charlie: (pulls out several papers covered in writing and diagrams)

Charlie: “…I’ve got, let’s see here-”

Vaggie: “Notes?”

Charlie: “-seven quick pick up date ideas that don’t need ANY preparation-”

Vaggie: “You made plans for dates you didn’t even think we’d go on?”

Charlie: “Well it never hurts to dream about something, right? That way you get to have fun either way, and you’ll be ready if it does happen!”

Vaggie: “I love you.”

Charlie: (grinning) “You love that you’ve infected me with note cards and organizing thoughts and things~”

Vaggie: “That too.”

Charlie: “Well according to my wonderful notes, the least stressful date option is…. Cannibal Town!”

Vaggie: “They have that dress code don’t they.”

Charlie: “Unless you wanna get your cute butt chased for all the wrong reasons, yep! They do!”

Vaggie: “Is this you wanting to see me in a fancy-ass dress?”

Charlie: “And to stroll down the nicely kept streets arm-in-arm with you, enjoyed the quiet atmosphere not filled with random agonized screams, stopping to admire the beautiful and very well composted flower beds…”

Vaggie: “I’d stroll with you anywhere, so count me in.”

Charlie: “YES! Oh I already LOVE THIS- and Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “I love you too.”

Vaggie: “Wow really. Had no idea.”

Charlie: “Heheh.”

Vaggie: “Honestly there’ve been like, zero hints about that all day.”

Charlie: “I promise I really was trying to be subtle.”

Vaggie: “There’s a lot of words for you, but subtle’s probably not one of them.”

Charlie: “I tried. I tried for youuuuuuu~ For the sake of my girlfriend, I was willing to go against my baser and more dramatic nature!”

Vaggie: “What’s more dramatic than man eating flowers, that’s what I’d like to know.”

Charlie: “A garden.”

Vaggie: “A g- a whole garden?”

Charlie: (shrug) “We’ve got plenty of empty rooms…”

Vaggie: “A garden, sweetie.”

Charlie: “I was thinking of putting a lot of trees and bushes in. Lots of stuff to hide behind.”

Vaggie: “Our own little patch of private picnic paradise, huh?”

Charlie: “Hm-hmm! Or for makeouts. Or both?”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Not to spoil the mood but… speaking of plants and compost, on our date, should we bring the other half of the cannibal quartet over to Rosie’s while we’re headed there? Or, what’s left of them?”

Charlie: “Mmmmm NAAAH. I wanna have all hands free on the way over.”

Vaggie: “Hands free for what?”

Charlie: “Nothing~”

Vaggie: “Your hands are already on my ass, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Oh whoops!”

Vaggie: “I didn’t say you could move them.”

Charlie: “That’s why I’m not~”

Vaggie: “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t you.” (muttering) “I’m not even the one off playing with carnivorous plants, so why's it suddenly feel like I’m in danger...”

Charlie: “Beecaaaause you look dangerously cute in a fancy dress.”

Vaggie: “Says the woman walking around in THAT suit.”

Charlie: “I have to dress sharp! I need to match with my girlfriend!”

Vaggie: “You’ve been wearing that exact same kind of suit since long before you even met me.”

Charlie: “Only through YEARS of unfulfilled potential!”

Vaggie: “Uh huh.”

Charlie: “Tragic, wasted beauty!”

Vaggie: “Hardly wasted with you in it.”

Charlie: “But it was! A jacket crying out for the one woman who’ll finally borrow and wear it the way it was always meant to be worn!”

Vaggie: “With the sleeves falling over my hands?”

Charlie: “With that adorable little blush when you snuggle down into it… Also, the way it falls to almost mid-thigh on you, and how you like wearing it with nothing el-”

Vaggie: “Is this a date night or a do not disturb night?”

Charlie: “Date night!”

Vaggie: “Then stop biting your lip at me.”

Charlie: “Aww.”

Vaggie: “And come help me pick out a fancy dress.”

Charlie: “!!! THE ONE FROM THE COMMERCIAL MAYBE???”

Vaggie: “Oh you liked that look, huh?” (snickering) “Aw babe- is THAT why you stay up replaying the commercial some nights?”

Charlie: “That’s… public image analysis…”

Vaggie: “Whatever you say. Now you now know how I feel every day.”

Charlie: (muttering) “lucky you.”

Vaggie: “You wanna switch things up for the date, or keep the suit?”

Charlie: “Keep, probably..? You like me in the suit~”

Vaggie: “I like you in a lot of things.”

Charlie: “R-right.”

Vaggie: “And nothing.”

Charlie: “I- same.” (horns start popping out) “Um.” (pushes them back in) “Could we also. Wear matching hats?”

Vaggie: “Of course we’re wearing matching hats. This is supposed to be a fancy date right?”

Charlie: “Very. Very fancy.”

Vaggie: “Well nothing’s fancier than hats."

Charlie: "WHEEE! With flowers on them, yeah!?"

Vaggie: "Have I ever let you down?”

Charlie: “Never.”

Vaggie: “And do you promise not to bring me anymore demonic flowers or singing quartets?”

Charlie: “… I’ll do my best.”

Vaggie: “Perfect.”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “I wouldn’t say no to a few more of those cookies though-”

Charlie: “NO.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, they were good.”

Charlie: “No. Absolutely no, I am NOT poisoning you on purpose. Not even if you ask me nicely and pout about it like that.”

Vaggie: “You deny the cookies?”

Charlie: “Don’t even start-”

Vaggie: “Girlfriend abuse. Toxic relationship alert.”

Charlie: “Those 'cookies' were the MOST TOXIC THING that our relationship has EVER seen!”

Vaggie: “They were made with love.”

Charlie: “And likely heavy metals? The fact that you willingly ate them is maybe the most WORRYING thing our relationship has ever seen…”

Vaggie: “Cough exorcist lie cough cough.”

Charlie: “Totally different. That didn’t put you in active danger-”

Niffty: “SPEAKING OF DANGER!”

Chaggie: (screaming)

Niffty: “My murder plant babies are in danger.”

Vaggie: “HOW can- how can those things BE in danger?”

Charlie: “NIFFTY PLEASE! The knocking?? The not dropping from air vents???”

Niffty: “Only in emergencies, I remember! This is an emergency. Husk is feeding himself to my murder plan babies.”

Vaggie: “Why.”

Niffty: “Escaping nurse Angel Dust and unnecessary CPR.”

Charlie: “Oh for-”

Vaggie: “Let him. They won’t kill him. Permanently, anyway.”

Charlie: “…. Hm.”

Niffty: “What if my murder babies get food poisoning from second hand bad cookies?”

Vaggie: “Seek revenge for them or something?”

Niffty: “OoooOOOH!”

Niffty: (scuttles away cackling)

Charlie: “Oh noooo, you’ve given her an idea-”

Vaggie: “Too late to stop her now. C’mon.” (grabbing charlie’s hand) “Make a break for our room before anyone else-”

Cherri Bomb: “Hey girls! Uh, you were planning on making a pit for a hotel swimming pool, right? Like, one already kinda full of blood? Right out back? Right???”

Chaggie: “….”

Charlie: “… Hello~! Charlie and Vaggie can’t be reached at the moment!”

Vaggie: “We’ll be out all night.”

Cherri Bomb: “And the pool of blood-?”

Charlie: “So please leave a message at the sound of the beep!”

Vaggie: “Beeeeep.” (at charlie) “Run.”  

Charlie: (scooping up vaggie) “My legs are longer-”

Vaggie: “Brilliant thinking sweetie now GO GO GO!!!”

Chaggie: (flees)

Cherri Bomb: “…..”

Cherri Bomb: “They take the u-haul thing seriously, huh.”

-their room-

Charlie: “….Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “Stop it.”

Vaggie: “Stop what?”

Charlie: “Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Mmm?”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “…..fine, FINE!” (groaning) “I’ll see about salvaging the burnt remains of the evil cursed cookie recipe when we get back. Now will you PLEASE stop messing with your flawless hair and put the dress on? Or anything!? Anything being put on would be good now too!”

Vaggie: (smiling) “No idea what you mean babe, but alright.” (quietly to herself) “Mission success.”

Charlie: “I heard that.”

-exiting hotel-

Vaggie: “Almost there.”

Charlie: “Oh please my dad who’s probably in a pile of duckies, please just let us make it out the d-”

(horrific screaming from deeper inside hotel)

Charlie: “…..”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “We didn’t hear that.”

Vaggie: “We kinda already did, sweetie.”

Charlie: “No.” (pouting) ���No. We can hear it when we get back.”

Vaggie: “Fine by me.”

Charlie: (SIGHING) “Even though we’re gonna hear allllll about not hearing it when we get back...”

Vaggie: “Worth it.”

Charlie: (grinning) “Think so?”

Vaggie: “Do you?”

Charlie: (already tugging them out the door by their entwined hands) “More than worth it.” (lifts and twirls vaggie down the hotel steps) “Whooosh!”

Vaggie: “Oh is THIS why you really wanted me in a fancy dress? For the ‘whoosh’?”

Charlie: “That, and for the way you smile when I whoosh you~”

[dragon-chica]

Cryptid Hunting - Eddie & Venom x Reader

Fandom: Marvel / Venom

Dear gods it's been a long time since I wrote but this duo? marry me.

You have a love for monsters and stories, folklore and cryptozoology especially the more interesting creatures, in particular.

Eddie once had asked you if you really believe in all those stories, legends and cryptids and folklore. He found them interesting and entertaining, especially some of your favorites you shared with him, but didn't consider a lot on the subject.

"Babe, your body contains an alien slime that cured your cancer and eats your ass. This is just a cursed child that flew out a chimney and haunts New Jersey. No offense, Venom, honey."

"NONE TAKEN."

"That's fair."

You had always wanted to try cryptid hunting just for fun, but could never convince anyone to join you for a night of tomfuckery in a creepy area with legends and rumors.

Eddie though, had no excuse.

Your reasoning was, he's a journalist, he should investigate this story, spinning your laptop around with an article on a chosen cryptid for him to look at while you also read about it from one of your cryptozoology and folklore books.

Your second reason was, he's your boyfriend and "Please, please, please, please baby?"

Which of course he could never say no to, not that it helps that Venom is also now pleading along with you.

"YES EDDIE, PRETTY PLEASE? WE CAN FIND IT AND EAT IT. AN EXOTIC SNACK, AND WE WILL IMPRESS THEM."

Both his lovers pleading for him to do something? He's a lovestruck sucker as is, even if it is walking around like a couple of dumbasses in the dark. He's done weirder.

You honestly didn't actually expect him to agree though, and are ecstatic that he does.

Your excitement and the big kiss on his cheek is already worth it he thinks.

"SEE EDDIE? WE ARE AMAZING PARTNERS. MORE CRYPTIDS AND MORE KISSES."

You make a day out of it, a roadtrip.

With snacks. Lots of snacks, and one guy at a gas station that was just awful. "HE DIDN'T TASTE VERY GOOD EITHER."

All in all, Eddie was having a good day. Time off spent with his favorite beings, a scenic drive, wearing shoes. Not really expecting much of the "cryptid hunt" besides walking around in the dark and talking to the woods like ghosthunters.

But you and Venom were hyped, as soon as you parked in a secluded area and geared up with flashlights and a video camera, he didn't know who was more excited.

Venom was hovering over his shoulder, head whipping around so much he was spinning Eddie as he went, following you "to a good spot."

You sat in the woods for awhile together waiting for it to get dark, wrapped in a cozy hoodie and leaning against Eddie while reading to him different stories from one of your cryptid books.

When darkness settled around you and something could be heard walking through the brush, you flashlight spun toward it.

"DO NOT WORRY MORSEL, WE ARE THE LETHAL PROTECTOR. YOU ARE SAFE."

Eddie did not expect, at the sound of something moving closer in the woods, for Venom to jump out of him, and into you. Backing up with black good around your hand now shaking with the beam towards it.

"What the hell V?" he whisper shouted while your other hand covered your mouth trying to hide a snicker.

"THAT'S ENOUGH HUNTING FOR TONIGHT."

A weird trilling sound came for the forest and Venom encased you, going full form and grabbing Eddie over your shoulder before sprinting back to the card and tossing him inside.

Your flashlights, heavy duty and bought just for this, were long forgotten while multiple tentacles rummaged around Eddie before finding the keys and slamming them in the ignition.

"What's wrong V? i thought you wanted to eat a cryptid for me?"

You try to soothe and pet him while Eddie gets his bearings again.

"NOT HUNGRY. THE UGLY MAN GAVE US INDIGESTION. BESIDES, EDDIE WAS SCARED."

"HEY!"

Eventually, against Venom's protests on Eddie being a chicken and too scared to continue, Eddie trekked back to retrieve your gear, Venom back with him and switching from full cowl to hiding inside him again while you waited in the car.

[samwitcch]

the party leader, mike wheeler - apoc au character details + poll under the cut!

---

mike's role in the party:

a scouter - essentially plans runs, checks areas first to ensure safety, and directs the runners during supply runs

assigns basic survival chores at the beginning of each day (laundry, boiling water, patrol, hunting, etc.)

is the "face" of the party -> always the one to negotiate with people of other groups

even though the party likes to give him shit for being kind of rude and bossy about how he talks to them in "leader" mode - they always hang onto his every word! they love and respect him deeply

kind of like a tired dad whenever he's not fighting with someone else -> basically watches over everyone to make sure they're okay

would never hesitate to do something deplorable to protect the party: family first

skills + hobbies:

considered the designated driver (along with max): nancy taught him when he was younger. he was scared about being useless due to his inability to shoot and aim guns so nancy helped him find something useful. max teaches him how to drive manual so that he can drive her muscle car (its how they get over their distaste for each other)

writes an entry in a journal that he stole every day! he lets will doodle in the margins of the paper :)

loves to read whatever's around - particularly interested in history, sci-fi, and old journals from people before the apocalypse (reads them with dustin and el -> they are nosy as hell and live for the drama)

great at using machetes and hatchets -> do NOT let this boy shoot a gun. he will accidentally hurt you and himself

good at fixing up guns and navigating - lucas (guns) and dustin (navigating) taught him :D

quirks / fun facts:

he likes to switch around the pins on his jacket a lot! the party find pins around to give to him (range from terrible to wearable)

since he's the only boy that likes to tie up his hair, max and el like to doll up and play around with his hair during their downtime

is very annoying and particular when it comes to doing survival chores (out of love) -> makes sure that the chores are divided equally among all of them and that no one gets the same chores twice in a row

--- other notes: mike was the first character i had in mind when thinking about this au (no surprise there) and the drawing of him sitting cross legged with a machete in his hand was the first ever "official" drawing i made for this :D i tried to make apoc mike similar to canon mike in terms of his temperament, his hero complex, his self-sacrificial tendencies, his inability to appropriately process his romantic feelings, his natural leadership and his personality. about mike's inability to use guns -> looking at mike's character dnd sheet, his dexterity is low and s1 mike wheeler cannot aim for shit either (see his rock throw). the reason he's most comfortable with machetes (and hatchets) is because of their versatility as both weapons and tools! just wanted to share because i think mike needed a nerf and him not being able to shoot guns is both in character and funny as hell to me i've had mike and will's char sheets done for a while and i really love the way they look :) i'm excited to post will's next! i'm working on the character sheets in batches of two, so which duo are yall most interested to see next? i'll work on them based on the poll results and post them next week at the earliest :) i'll prob also try out some concept designs for the demogorgon-like zombies sometime soon as well!

[cluelessatthispoint]

Dragon's Hoard pt.3

(Inspired by bluegiragi and docdudo)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soft snores and gentle gasps echoed lazily within the darkened lair of the dragon and his mates.. the small family all safe and cozy with one another far away from the noisy blight that is humanity and their ways of living. Usually it would be easy to fall asleep, but try as he might, Gaz laid awake. Hard instincs screaming at him to succumb to sleep. The environment around already working so hard to lull him to what his instincts crave.

Gaz laid awake in the nest, his eyes straining as he peered up at the dark, stalactite filled cieling. The sight leaving a tingling imprint in his retinas. As much as he would have liked to get some sleep after a long day. There was only so much he could handle in a day spent flying and helping Soap pick off straggling sheep for their next meal. Never in a million years did he expect Price to come home with a child in tow. Just what the hell was he thinking? A literal human child, in the home of a hybrid pack. So many things could go wrong. With a sigh, Gaz groggily brought a hand up to massage and pinch the bridge of his nose. He was one for surprises. Sure there was the time when he and Price spent a surprise, anniversary night out gazing at the stars after a successful hunt. The clear night sky overhead glittering with innumerable stars overhead. The way the light from the moon casted a silvery glow over as far as the duo could see was a magical sight. It was quite possibly one of the best surprises Gaz could think of to this date. Well, not anymore.

The sleeping child in the group nest proved that opinion all too well. With a sigh, Gaz unfurled one large wing up and out in one glorious motion to flex and stretch. The joints in his wing getting all nice and lubricated to chase away the stiffness in his muscles and tendons. Slowly, so as to not wake anyone else from their much needed sleep. Looking over and down at the small tufts of hair that curl about your small head. Gaz gently lowers the tip of his wing to wrap around your form. All tired out and limp in their nest. Tiny lungs working hard to keep an even pace as your small chest rises and falls with each gentle inhale and exhale. Each small twitch in your sleep is monitored, each small groan and stretch as you wander in dreamland is counted. For Gaz, It's like a dream come true. A strange, unexpected dream. Its been so long since he's raised a chick. Furling his massive wing around your midsection, Gaz scoots his body closer to envelop you in his warmth. Chicks need plenty of warmth to sleep well. And good sleep leads to healthy growth. A patient smile makes its way to his heart-shaped lips. A soft croon just beggin to make its way out. Would the chick even like his song? The culture of his kind? Would the chick learn to appreciate the differences of their new parents?

As if roused by the acrid smelling spike of anxiety wafting off of his husband, Simon; from over the shoulder of Price moved quietly to lean up on his forearms. Sleep still dancing across his eyelids as he narrows his vision on Gaz. His tired brown eyes laced with concern.

"Hey"

"Hey yourself."

The sound of Simon's sleep tinged voice is a welcome relief to Gaz’s ears.

"Can't sleep?"

A pregnant pause follows the question. As if Gaz really needs to answer the question, the wraith knows what's bothering him.

"The kid is fine. Just tired. Scared. It's to be expected. Doubt Soap here helped any."

With a heavy sigh Gaz cuddles closer to your unconscious form. To Simon, the sight of such a large harpy and such a small child just seems wrong. Different species all gathered in one place. That's how most wars break out, but yet this family makes it work. Better than most same species families.

"Soap won't eat the kid...back in the day he might've...but not now..ease up Gaz."

Dark brown, chocolate eyes sweep over Gaz gently before straining to look over at the tiny bundle all snuggled up against his chest. The harpy's instinct to gather and protect their young is strong, almost ferocious at times. But Gaz looks so gentle. Laying back down to carefully spoon against Price. Simon is ever mindful to be aware of not disturbing the portion of the dragon's hybrid back where his missing wing should be.

"We're where we belong. That includes the kid."

The tenderness in Simon's voice almost surprises Gaz. That tone is usually reserved for more intimate moments.

"What do you mean Si?"

"Look at em. So small, tiny...almost insignificant. Just like we all were at one time or another."

"So?"

"Price...he can see the value in even the smallest things. The broken things....like us."

The unspoken words between them echo in their minds. "Like me". Broken. But still so very much loved and adored.

"Get some sleep Gaz. You can look the kid over and clean em in the morning."

The subtle command in Simon's tones doesn't go ignored. Even the sleeping werewolf somehow registers the tone, responding with a heavy yawn and a rumbling purr. With the quiet in the den, the sounds of deep, rhythmic breathing gets swallowed up by the thick rocky walls and cushions and fabrics that make up the spacious nest. With tired eyes, Gaz curls in and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. The soft hair that frames your cherubic face makes you look years younger than you are. The softness of your skin and its youthful buoyancy are still there even after all this time on your own. It makes his heart clench up tightly to think of all those years you've spent begging and scrounging for scraps like a common mutt in the city's streets.

"John always finds the value in the little things in life. I guess he saw something truly special in you chickie."

Gaz says softly as he presses his lips to your forehead. We're humans always this cold? Did John bring home a sick child? How do you care for a sick child that's not the same species as you? What if something is wrong? Shaking those terrible thoughts away, his mind wanders to what Simon said. And how everyone gathered here in each other's space, share so many wonderful things with each other. How coexistence just comes natural to them. How it'll hopefully come naturally to their newest addition. Shaking his head, the way Soap spoke of the child at first made him cringe. Eating them up and the like. The werewolf has no tact when it comes to children. Sighing gently, his deep brown eyes gaze at you with a tenderness only reserved for the young his instincts so desperately crave. Watching over you as you squirm in your sleep. No doubt moving in response to his soft exhales ghosting over your skin.

"No one's eating our chick...not my chick."

He whispers softly in oath to himself. His words not as unheard as he believed. On the other side of the nest, a soft, barely perceivable smile tugs at the corners of Price's lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ta da! Part three is here. I'm planning to have the next few chapters focus on the 141 individually and how they respond to having a child in their lives now.

~~~~

[swtsupernatural]

D&S W. || NEVER ENOUGH

Dean & Sam Winchester & Winchester! Middle-Sibling! Gender Neutral! Reader

Content Warning Takes place after John's death, no specific episode, just soon after. Swearing, dealing with John's death & grieving, reader throws up once, use of knives and guns, mentions of demons, dean being unable to communicate his feelings

Summary Angst !!! hurt/comfort for reader - Dad died, and all you could think about was how he died not even liking his middle child. You.

W.C. 2.2 k

Ask anon : Could you do something with the Winchester brothers and a Winchester reader? Where the reader is the middle child and is the forgotten one of the family. The reader feels kind of useless compared to Sam and Dean.

Playlist: ♫ I Love You So - The Walters, Better Than Me - The Brobecks, I Know the End - Phoebe Bridgers

A.N. first platonic winchester reader fic ! wrote this sooo fast lol (I think I was projecting even though I'm the oldest child) also I had to include my fav chaotic old man duo in this one...enjoy! - claire <3

Dad was dead. It hadn't been too long since he left, but fuck. He was dead and all you could think of was how much of a shit child you were. You tried your entire life to prove yourself to your dad; but you weren’t Dean; you didn’t follow him blindly, listen to his every order, pick up on hunting skills like it was playing cards. And you weren’t Sam; you weren't booksmart, you didn't have a touch for understanding, and you weren’t as defiant. Yet, it still seems like your whole life that you were your dad’s least favorite. Now you didn’t have Dad, and you felt sick to your stomach that you were almost relieved. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and another one had been placed in your stomach. Your own father had died and you were relieved. No wonder you were the least favorite. 

When you were younger, you’d been more like Sam. Dean was Dad;s pupil, and to you both it didn’t matter who was second because you were both not your older brother. You’d move to a random small town school,get picked on like Sam did, Dean told you he’d beat them up for you, and then you moved again. Every now and then shit would go down and you’d spend some nights at Bobby’s — and it repeated all over again. Then, Sam had graduated highschool and left you and Dean for Stanford. You and Dean never went into upper education, it hadn’t really crossed either of your minds. Sam was 18, you were 20, and Dean was 22. You’d been out of school for a bit, trying desperately to keep up with Dean and Dad, you were just never as good. You didn’t know anything else, and couldn’t see yourself doing well in any other ‘profession,’ if you could even call it that. A couple weeks after Sam left, you were digging through the trash like a damn raccoon looking for a note cliping you’d accidentally thrown away with some crucial information about your current hunt. You found the sticky note, but it had latched onto a thick, white piece of paper. It was a job application. It was Dean’s. You nearly cried, he wanted to be a firefighter. You were so emotional because you know he totally could; he’d be wonderful at it. But he’d never leave the hunting life, especially not after Sam had “abandoned Dad and us,” as he put it. The heat of the fire brought you back to the stupid forest you’d bought Dad’s body to. The fire was warm, but still not comforting in the slightest despite the chipping cold. Your cheeks were pink, and you could feel your eyes starting to water. This was it.

You began walking with your head down in the opposite direction of the Impala. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Dean’s voice was gruff, his own head and heart in turmoil, showing in his wavering voice. He never sounded like that. It was so uncharacteristic and gazing up at their faces made you sick. They were lit up warm from the fire, both of their green eyes shining, frowns and dirt on their faces. You doubled over by a tree, placing your hand on the tough bark as you threw up your breakfast on the dewy grass. You heard Sam sigh, the thick, uncut grass rusting, a hand coming to your back as he pushed the hair from your face. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told you everything. He knew more about your struggle with Dad than Dean did. Sam had always been easier to talk to. That’s why you wanted him to leave.

“Sam,” you whispered after wiping your face, “you need to go back to school, dude.” Sam looked down sheepishly.

“Y/N, cmon, you know I was there on scholarship, I–

“And you were also the best in your program, Sam. Dad’s gone. Go back, go make something of your life, please.”

“And what will you do? Keep hunting?”

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I’m not good at anything else, Sam! Hell, I’m not even that good a hunter. I’m half the reason he left to go on that stupid hunt in the first place.”

“Don’t start with that, Y/N.” 

“I know it, you know it, and Dean knows it. Just…I need to be alone.”

“No, you don’t.” Dean’s voice came from your left, walking up at a quick pace with his hands in his jacket pockets.

“You don’t get it.” You whispered, and they just heard your small voice.

“What’s there to get?” Dean huffed, shaking his head.

“Dean, knock it off,” Sam muttered.

“What you don’t get, is that Dad never fucking liked me while like he liked you both. And Sam, don’t act like he resents you for leaving or something. He stayed up sighing and reading all those student aid and college billing bullshit because he knew you could do it. And Dean, he always taught you so much more than me because you actually got hunting like he did and knew what you were doing. I was never good at either. I wish I was the one burning in that fucki—

Dean grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the tree.

“Can you shut up about yourself for two damn seconds when we're at Dad’s funeral? I don’t need you crying about him being a dick when he’s dead. He had funny ways of showing it, but he loved you, Y/N.”

“No he didn’t,” You shoved him off of you, shoving your hands in your coat and huffing out steamy air as you returned to the car. Your brother’s followed you, but you were already lifting the trunk and grabbing your duffle bag. 

“Bye. See ya around.”

“Dean, let them go,” Sam grabbed his arm, stopping his brother from getting to you. “Even I know Dad was always a dick to them.

“C’mon, dude, give ‘em a break, just for now. We’ll call them in a couple days, it’ll be fine.” Dean shook Sam off of him, opening his car door and slamming it aggressively. Sam sighed, getting in the car and watching the black smoke in the rearview mirror flying up into the sky.  __________________________________________

It had been four weeks. Four weeks, two cases solved, 11 missed phone calls from Sam, 6 from Dean, and now you were cornered in a damn demon’s trap. It was 5 against 1, but that didn’t change how useless you felt. You were never as good of a fighter as Sam or Dean, you weren’t as obnoxiously tall or particularly strong. You always felt useless as a child, as a sibling, as a hunter, and as yourself. Of course this would be how you died.

You were at the point of just giving in and calling it quits on your life when a booming BANG rang out. From behind you, two more shots rang out, knives slashing. You didn’t question it, you just acted. You managed to corner the last demon, grabbing his head from behind and shoving your knife in his throat, killing it. You focused your eyes up and saw the last person you were thinking about. But boy, were you glad to see him.

“Bobby?” He crushed you in a big hug, gun in one hand and a first aid bag in the other. 

“Heard’a some weird stuff in this town, deaths and weird figures, figured it was demons. But, when Rufus and I went into the local police office as P.I.s, they said someone with your description already came by,” He grumbled.

“You know how stupid it is to go on a hunt alone when you're young, kid?” Rufus spoke, as his way of greeting you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a half-hug. “That’s why I always drag this old man with me in case shit goes down. So I can throw him in the storm and buy myself some time to run.” Bobby rolled his eyes at Rufus’ sarcastic words, and led you both out of the building.

“Why aren’t you with the boys, Y/N?” You sighed, running a dirty hand through your hair. 

“You uh…heard about Dad?” Bobby stopped the tread to his old car, turning and peered at you with dark eyes. 

“I did. Don’t worry, m’not gonna hit you with all that “I’m sorry, woe is you” crap you hate.” You huffed, smiling at Bobby, “But, I am gonna tell ya you always have a place to stay, kiddo.”

“Thank you.” 

He looked at you expectedly, his head tilting towards you, “...So?”

“I left them after the funeral. I was just…having a hard time, Bobby.” You muttered, sitting in the back seat like a little kid.

“I know, kiddo. How’s about you come to my place and get yourself straight, hm?” You nodded, and Bobby watched you through the rear view mirror hanging above him. Your hair was greasy and the bags under your eyes almost purple. This had been fucking you up a lot.

Bobby got out and opened the trunk, rearranging things while Rufus opened the garage to grab salt, bullets, and gear to restock after your predicament. He tossed you his keys and you caught them with a jingle. You shoved them in the door and finally turned the janky lock, pushing it open. You froze.

Sam and Dean were sitting on the couch. The second you sighed and stepped inside, Dean shot up from his seat rushing towards you, wrapping you in a far too tight hug. He pulled away, his lips in a straight line as he lightly smacked you upside the head.

“You scared the shit out of us, dumbass.”

“Great to see you, too.” 

“Where were you?” 

You shrugged, moving past Dean to Bobby’s cramped, warm, familiar living room.

“I was on the road…hitchhiking, looking into cases, all that.” “I’m gonna refrain from telling you how dangerous that is and opt for a hug,” Sam grumbled as he wrapped his long arms around you. 

“Why are you here?” You asked, settling down on the couch like no time had passed at all since you last saw them. Sam began to speak up, but Dean cut him off and Sam stared at him sternly.

“Cause we couldn’t find you and you weren’t answering us, and Bobby said he found you on a hunt near his place. We got here right before you guys. Y/N you had us fucking worried.”

“I’m sorry. I needed some time alone. I…love you guys. But being around you after Dad, it just reminds me that I’ll never be good enough for him. He’s dead and all I can think about is how he died not even liking me. I’ll never be like either of you.”

Sam laughed; he actually laughed out loud. “Like me? Are we talking about the same people? Cause I see visions of people dying, Y/N. I dropped out of college and can’t do anything right in anyone’s eyes, not just Dad’s.”

“That's not true, Sam…” He sat down next to you on the couch, his knees turned towards you, his eyes dark and watchful. Dean mumbled something about getting you all drinks and disappeared into the kitchen, sensing a touchy conversion he'd rather not be a part of just yet.

“And Dean,” Sam continued, “Dean would rather die than open up to anyone, even either of us, and he can’t function if he’s not drinking, hooking up with some random girl, or drinking. Which is why he’s getting us drinks right now. If anything, you’re the one I’d rather be like. I know Dean would too.” You rolled your eyes pointedly, like Sam was talking nonsense. He moved his head to find your eyes, tilting his head towards you with that face he made that would always stop you from talking. “Y’know, you’re so good at reading us and we didn’t even realise until you were gone. Honestly, Dean and I have never fought that much. And you’re always good at talking with the vics and feds, way better than me or Dean, I–

“Can we end the girly-crap convo now, please?” Dean handed each of you a beer, throwing his back the second he sat down, drinking way too much in one sip.

“Sorry we have feelings, Dean. In case you forgot; most people have those.”

“Yea, yea. Listen,” he turned to you after he groaned, trying to look sincere, well, as sincere as Dean could look. 

“You’re probably the least fucked up one in our freak family, Y/N, so quit it, alright? Sammy and I…we love ya.” He threw his hand that wasn’t clutching his drink up in a surrender. “That good? Can we please drink now and head to our next stop with a hangover in the morning?”

You chuckled, clink-ing your drink with your brothers, and nodding to Dean. He smiled silently, thankful you were back. He hadn’t realized how much you kept the peace and sanity between the three of you. He really missed you. 

“There better be two of those left, idjits,” Bobby grumbled, Rufus on his tail as they went into the kitchen grabbing a bottle each. They sat opposite of you all on the other couch and you held up your bottle. 

“Cheers. To being a weird, fucked up family.”

“Cheers!” Sam gave you a tight lipped, sweet smile. “Cheers to that,” Dean finished the rest of his drink, throwing his head back.

“You kids are gonna kill me,” Bobby muttered.

[kingmaxstatic]

In Defense Of Lanolin, A Post About Perspective, Flaws and Development. (Part 1: The Incidents)

Hey there everyone! It's time for another ✨Max Opinion Moment✨. Out of all of the IDW characters I think Lanolin is the character I've seen get the most hate. I'm not just talking about "I dislike this character" I'm talking I've seen posts where people act like Lanolin killed their family sort of hate.

Today I plan on defending Lanolin as a character! Talking about the main panels that caused this hatred and why I think she's... actually justified in her actions!

DISCLAIMER! This post is not meant to say "You can't DISLIKE Lanolin!". You're allowed to have your opinions of the character!

with all of that out of the way, let's talk sheep! Buckle up! Because this is a long one! (So long I might have to make a part 2)

Case #1: The Paddle Ball Incident

One of the earliest examples (comic timeline wise) was this set of panels! I've seen people actually seethe over these panels. Now I want to explain why I, personally, understand why she's taken the paddle away from her!

Lanolin is talking about important stuff here! Tangle is ACTIVELY interrupting the conversation by playing with the paddle ball in her face. Also, as an autistic person, I personally know how distracting those noises can be!

People also seem to forget that Lanolin, a few pages earlier, looks EXHAUSTED. That is not the face of a sheep that's well rested. Of course she's going to be irritable!

You'd be a bit of a bitch too if you were trying to talk about important stuff and someone was cutting off the conversation by fiddling with something really loud in your face! It's like if you were trying to present a school project you worked all night on and someone started playing a really loud video next to you.

Does this make Tangle a bad person? Of course not! She's energetic and gets bored easily (trust me girl, I get it.) but Lanolin isn't bad for being upset.

Case 2: The Duo Incident

THIS is the main reason a lot of people hate Lanolin as a character. Though in the timeline it's the second panel people will point to as justification for wanting this fictional sheep dead. This is the part of the post where I talk a LOT about perspective and justification.

Get ready for a LOTTTT of panel posting to add context.

SO Let's discuss the main perspective we see, Silver and Whisper's

Silver and Whisper know something is up with Duo, hell Whisper hits the nail right on the head when she instantly assumes Duo to be Mimic! This all happens after Mimic sneakily kicks Silver and Whisper notices.

Another event this happens is when Mimic basically leaves Silver for dead and what does he say after Lanolin asks him where silver is?

"I'm sorry I couldn't save him... the teeth... so big."

From LANOLIN'S PERSPECTIVE, Duo is the new guy, inexperienced and doesn't know how to deal with badniks and this one was HUGE. So from HER pov Duo did his best to save Silver and just simply couldn't. Of course she doesn't know that Duo is Mimic.

So what do Whisper and Silver do after they assume there's a traitor amongst them?

"We're Going Hunting."

Silver and Whisper don't first contact Lanolin or the others, they jump INSTANTLY to murder. The next panel we sees Silver and Whisper in in this arc is them camping in a bush, ready to shoot this Mimic.

Once again, I need to emphasize, they DID NOT discuss this with Tangle or Lanolin. They jumped to murder. This is a rash choice on both of their ends.

I also want to point out that Lanolin acted a lil playful and friendly... before she saw Whisper coming out of the bushes with her wispon.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize what Whisper is implying here. She wants to kill someone. Justified? Yes, Mimic is a horrible person who seems to only know one word, betray. But from Lanolin's perspective Duo is a newbie who's only crime was being inexperienced. She does not know Duo is Mimic.

She even asks "The Shape-Shifter? That's a big accusation. Do you have any proof?" She isn't saying "Whisper, this guy clearly isn't mimic." She's saying "If you have proof he's mimic, show it instead of shooting this person I assume is innocent.".

and Whisper responds "We will soon."

Whisper then walks forward and proceeds to grab Lanolin's arm and move it, if you have a keen eye, you'll notice it was the arm Lanolin was using to protect Duo.

A teammate is walking towards your other seemingly innocent teammate, accusing them of being someone from their past. They're carrying a loaded weapon and move you out of the way. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what would happen next. Someone is going to get shot, someone is going to get killed.

So what do you do?

You knock the person down.

What Lanolin does here is knock Whisper over before she does anything and attempts to reason why her. Before whisper then KICKS her legs, trying to knock her over. Thus starts a fight. I'm not gonna post the full panel because we already got the idea.

But afterwards Jewel asks "Hey let me get this straight, you tried to attack this dude based on an assumption"

And Silver is like "Yeah shit guess I was"

THEN Lanolin steps in like "Hey until you can like. think before you act you should stay away from us, kay?"

OKAY SO, TO EMPHASIZE THIS A THIRD TIME. Silver and Whisper decided to try and kill this guy before discussing with their team. Silver is a powerhouse and a well known powerhouse at that. "Yadda Yadda great power, great responsibility." and all that.

People act like Lanolin is banning Silver from ever being in the diamond cutters ever. But she's saying "FOR NOW you can't be one of us.". Until is a word that changes a LOT here. She's also saying "That's my vote." implying she wants the others' input.

Hell this is even more emphasized when Jewel says Tangle has a say in this! Lanolin is saying "Hey, I think Silver shouldn't be around until he grows more, what do you guys think?".

I do think Lanolin has flaws here, she should've tried to give whisper a bit more benefit of the doubt here, but Whisper shouldn't of ALSO jumped to murder. They're BOTH in the wrong here.

PHEW THAT WAS A LONG ONE.

Case #3: The X-Treme Gear Incident

This is the latest Lanolin panel that I've seen spark debate about her! Let's talk about the Diamond Cutters' roles in this arc!

They're referees! They're even called "The Restoration Refs" in issue 70! Basically, people who oversee the race to make sure everyone is playing fair and safe.

She's not doing this because she hates Sonic (okay maybe she has beef with Sonic), Amy and Tails. She's doing this because it was an active threat to everybody else and themselves!

Hell I want to point out that in the first panel of this case, she's pointing at Sonic. Who she has witnessed first hand clearly having a disregard to the rules and safety.

This then proceeded to almost get one of her teammates hurt.

So Lanolin calling Sonic a "Hazard" Isn't too far off. Do I think Lanolin is being harsh here? Yeah. Hell even the comic points out she's being harsh after the first panel of this case.

People act like she swiveled around to Tails and went "You suck as an inventor" and spit on him. She's calling the gear "faulty" and "hazards". Shes literally doing her job. I need to emphasize this. Is she being rude? Yes. But she's blunt and it's apart of her character. Tangle is gonna be naive, Whisper's gonna be distant, Lanolin is gonna be blunt.

Bonus Case: The Shattered Glass Incident.

Okay so this isn't one that I've seen people hate on Lanolin for but I... have seen the Anti-Lanolin squad be weird over this panel. Being all like "HA!! Not as perfect as she thought!" and "She's finally facing the consequences of her actions!!"

What actions?

Ah yes! Stopping Sonic from endangering more racers!

Lanolin broke the glass, yes. She acted quickly, yes. This wasn't her scheming and being like "Heehee!! Time to put all these people in danger for some reason!!"

Let's call it what it is.

A Mistake.

Something people are allowed to make, something Lanolin is allowed to make. This isn't some sort of "her getting what's coming to her" it's her realizing she fucked up. Let her make mistakes and let them BE mistakes!

But yeah, if you've read this all the way through, thank you! I had a lot of fun making this (despite how exhausted I am of the lanolin hate train). Hopefully I'll actually make that part 2! Because that would be more so me talking about Lanolin's flaws, her role, and her backstory! Things I like to discuss (I do not like being a hater).

[warblogs17282]

I do wonder if Blitz is still into pirate stuff somewhat nowadays.

Personally, I'd say that he's probably still into pirates at least a little bit, even to this day.

Mainly because of his signature weapon of choice, which I believe to be a flintlock pistol, which was quite common with pirates, and media also commonly depicts pirates using flintlock pistols and such as well, leading me to the conclusion that Blitz is probably still into pirates in the present day, at least a little bit.

Where am I going with this you ask?

Well, it's something to do with Vassago that I've noticed before, which as we know, Vassago is going to be appearing quote 'much more' in season 3.

More specifically, I'm referring to the fact that Vassago's character design is very clearly at least partly based on the animal known as the red macaw.

Something else we know, is that in writing/the various forms of media, pirates and parrots are quite a common pairing with each other, with the macaw/red macaw being one of the most common types of parrot seen in the pirate/parrot pairing as well.

Something else I want to address your attention to is the fact that, in the last two pictures in this post, you can see a common theme between them both. More specifically, there's a treasure map theme going on with Vassago, with the X at the end and all that.

And well, treasure maps are a trope you see commonly associated with pirates in writing/various forms of media, despite the fact that pirates didn't really do the whole buried treasure thing for rather obvious reasons, but that doesn't detract from the point I'm making here.

Plus, Blitz definitely bought into the treasure map pirate trope, considering how as a child, he named his pirate-themed game 'Treasure Hunt'.

A pirate,

and his red macaw.

Would be one hell of a duo, that's for sure. I hope they get some interactions between them in season 3 and eventually become friends at some point.

[fatedroses]

Sometimes a light party is a machinist loporrit, a rogue moogle chef, an ex-assassin healer, and the former prince of Garlemald.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

DPxDC prompt #10: Vicki Vale will roast Vlad alive

[Props and credit to @starry-songs-canvas for creating this idea (sorta) which can be seen and read here... Which I then created the inverse of for this prompt thing... Enjoy!]

After the latest story she published, Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette needed to lay low. Preferably somewhere that wasn't Gotham City. She knew that she was provoking retaliation by reporting on Gotham's crime families and their latest involvement in city hall, but she didn't care. The truth needed to be known, and her own personal safety was just a small sacrifice that she was more than happy to make for it.

However, the Gotham Gazette couldn't risk having their star reporter getting mysteriously (but suspiciously) killed in one of Gotham's many, many dark backalleyways. So until the heat died down a little, they decided to assign her to a story out of town where she would undoubtedly be safer.

So that's how Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette ended up in Amity Park. She was supposed to be working on a fluff piece. This city had apparently been dealing with one hell of a ghost infestation for a while now, and the Justice League had done practically nothing to help this city deal with this problem. The article was supposed to be about the Justice League and underserved Midwestern cities dealing with unusual problems that only the Justice League could solve. So imagine her surprise when she arrived to town and started digging, only to find a few independent parties actually already dealing with the city's ghost problem, containing the ghosts, and keeping this problem from spreading elsewhere.

Foremost, there was a scientist husband and wife duo who were ghost hunting specalists and inventors. Out of everyone dealing with ghosts in the city, they surprisingly seemed to be the best prepared and had the best equipment for the job. In fact, all of the other major ghost hunting groups and individuals seemed to be using technology based off of their designs... (Certainly there was a story there and someone was probably breaking patent laws, but that would have to be a story for another day.) Secondly were the Guys in White- A little known government organization that specialized in the search and study of ghosts and other possible supernatural anomalies. She had been acquainted with them before, however the task force assigned to this city seemed... Less competent than most... Third was an individual ghost hunter dressed all in red who was known to have a particularly personal hatred for ghosts. She would ride a kind of rocket board over town, and rumor had it that she was actually a teenage girl who was attending the local high school and did the ghost hunting on her hours off from school. Out of the groups of ghost hunters in town, she seemed more interested in destroying ghosts rather than capturing and studying them like the other ghost hunters in town. And last, but certainly not least, was the local ghost boy celebrity hero- a ghost who looked much like a teenage boy who was previously known to the town as "Invis-O-Bill" before it was stated on the news that his name was actually, "Danny Phantom." No one knew why the ghost boy had such a keen interest in capturing ghosts and, according to the rumors, returning them to the place from whence they came, but his efforts were well-known throughout the town, and he was largely adored by the city for it- Especially by the younger crowd.

Vicki had decided to do her due diligence and interview these different groups of ghost hunters before writing this story off entirely. The interviews were interesting, but offered very little for her story. There seemed to be a consensus. While the number of ghosts that needed to be captured could be overwhelming at times, and while the time commitment to hunting ghosts absolutely destroyed the possibility of them having any free time, between the Fentons, Phantom, and the anonymous ghost hunter in red- Whom Vicki had decided to dub "the Red Huntress" for her story (a name that the red-clad ghost hunter seemed to like)- they largely had the problem covered. Sure, backup from the Justice League could be helpful and appreciated, but they didn't really think that the Justice League would be well equipped for their specific problem, and they mostly had it handled. In fact, the Fentons and Red Huntress alike seemed to have a particular passion for ghost hunting that they had no interest in giving up for anything!

As for the question of why people outside of Amity Park thought that this was a problem, while the people actually living there didn't... That yielded a more interesting response... For their part, the Fentons and the Red Huntress didn't know where this perception that they couldn't handle the job was coming from (in fact, the Red Huntress seemed to take particular offense to this idea)... But the Phantom offered a very curious response.

"I don't know... Maybe Vlad's keeping the press from talking about it...?"

"Vlad...?"

"Uh... Yeah! Vlad Masters? The mayor of Amity Park...?"

"You think that he's keeping the news from reporting on the successes of Amity Park's ghost hunters?" Vicki asked it as more of a statement than a question.

"Well, I know that he pays off the local papers to make him look good and for me to look bad, so... I guess it's possible...?"

Vicki thought that was interesting. Very interesting indeed. She thanked the ghost for his time and watched as he flew off, doubtless to find other ghosts menacing the population of Amity Park to defeat them.

She let out a heavy sigh. It looks like this fluff piece about how the Justice League wasn't doing enough to help this community was going to be a bust. The ghost problem was largely covered, and she had suspicions that the Justice League knew this and therefore felt no need to interfere. That wasn't a bad thing. And it certainly wasn't enough of an actual problem to be reported on.

As a reporter, Vicki knew when to trust her gut. And right now her gut was telling her that there was something much more interesting going on in this town other than a little bit of neglect from the Justice League. She pulled out her phone and called her editor-in-chief.

"Hey there, Mr. Ito. Yeah, I'm still in Amity Park, laying low. Think that it's safe for me to come home yet?" She listened to her boss reply over the line. "Oh no, no, that's not a problem at all! I just wanted to call because I think that the current piece is a bust... However... I think that I've come across something even better! Think you can get me some info?" She waited for her boss' response. "Of course, of course! I just wanted to check in with you first. But if you wouldn't mind, could you get someone to help me with digging up as much dirt as we can on Vlad Masters, the current mayor of Amity Park? I just got a tip that he may be paying off the papers here. And from what I've seen, I think that there's something more... Suspicious about him. For now it's just a hunch. But there's something here. I just need to find it."

[uranometrias]

you can kiss a hundred boys — sam winchester

→ premise: you, the mostly stable edition to sam & dean's little hunting duo have found yourself the object of all of sam's hopes and dreams. the only problem? you barely seemed to give him a second glance and had a bigger sexual appetite than dean. which meant that night after night, bar after bar, and motel after motel, sam was forced to come to grips with the fact that you were far from interested in reciprocating any sort of feelings he may have been pathetically harboring. or so he thinks.

→ pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: angst w/ resolution, heavy cursing, miscommunication trope? r! + sam both have issues with expressing themselves in healthy ways. sam is just exceptionally jealous + lashing out. r! has abandonment issues. semi love confessions. r! is described to be older than sam (take that as you will). no particular timeline, but set in earlier seasons. heavy making out. allusions and depictions of former sexual activity. no smut (i'm building up to it omg). teasing! dean. r! can kind of be read as alcohol dependant. fluff + happy ending <3

→ a/n: preparing to tackle writing a full length supernatural fic on wattpad within the coming days, and felt it was only right to dip my toes in writing for the fandom just to see if i even have a semblance of a shot of doing justice to this fandom. very very nervous at the attempt, but i hope at least one person winds up enjoying this! i hope i characterized sam well... i'm doing a rewatch of earlier seasons and tried to base this off that. fingers crossed it comes across the way i intended. <3

"And what the hell's gotten into you?" your hand drops to your hip, eyes dancing from Sam long enough to take in Dean who had his lips pursed in the way that told you he was keeping his quips and thoughts to himself. You'd just sidled up to the boys, grin big and eager as you rushed out practiced 'goodnights'. Some guy neither brother (or you for that matter) could be bothered to remember the name of had invited you back to his place, and you'd accepted graciously. After solving a case that went as good as any hunt could, you felt you owed it to yourself to have some fun.

And while the guy in no way looked like the future love of your life, there was no rule that said a girl couldn't have a little fun every once in a while. The only problem now seemed to be that your offerance of a goodbye had been enough to send Sam into a pissy mood. His face was scrunched up in that way that told you he was peeved, and for the very life of you, you couldn't figure out why.

"It's nothing." he reassures, and your eyes narrow, not buying it for even one second. "Have a good night." Sam's eyes are rolling before he can fully get it out, and your looking back at Dean, almost begging him to make things plain. All he does is let an exasperated puff of air fly from his nose as he downs his shot before flagging the bartender down for another one.

"Sammy?" and your head tips to the side, eyes shooting behind you to ensure your date for the night hadn't found someone else to occupy him. "Come on, you know I know something's wrong." you try, because even if you were itching to get laid, you cared about Sam and Dean more. Which meant if he was pissed with you, there was nothing that would stop you from at least attempting to fix it.

"Yeah, well there's not really anything you can do about it, so why don't you just go." and he's stern but not mean. Still, it makes you falter just a step. "You're better at that anyway." and this is grumbled, voice lowered, but you hear it all the same. It makes you scoff, letting out a disbelieving sort of laugh as your lips push out in disinterest.

"Right." and you wring your hands. "I guess I'll do that then." you don't mean to sound snarky, but now your feelings are hurt, and you've got no real clue why. Still, Sam Winchester was about as stubborn as you were avoidant, so if he was going to push you away, you were going to go with open arms. It's precisely why you don't say anything else as you turn on your heel and stomp away like a petulant toddler. Sam's body is swiveling in his chair, almost like he's had a change of heart, and he's turning to hurriedly apologize, but finds that you're nowhere near enough for him to try.

"Nice going." Dean says like the annoying older brother that he is, and he's letting out another chuckle that makes Sam want to slam his head into the bar seated right in front of him.

"Shut up." he retorts instead.

"Don't take it out on me just cause you're all pent up!" is what Dean says next, and Sam wonders if everything in Dean's life revolves around sex and hunting. "Maybe you should be a little more like her and get rid of some of that aggression. Hunting ain't gon' fix everything." Dean lectures, and Sam thinks if his eyes roll again they'll spin right out of the sockets.

"Look not everything can be fixed by sleeping with some stranger." Sam offers as Dean stares at him like he's grown a second head. "And besides, I didn't say anything wrong. She's always gone." he whines. "Every single night." he reiterates. "It's like she can't wait to get away from us." and Sam's not sure if that's his heartache or his abandonment issues talking. Dean isn't sure either. "I mean, even you take breaks sometimes." and Dean resists the urge to react to the clear jab at his sexual history.

"So she's having some fun. What's the harm in that? It's not like she can't take care of herself. The kid packs a mean punch." and he winces at the memory of learning it first hand.

"Yeah, I know that." Sam retorts instantly.

"So then what's the problem?" Dean is quick with his assault of questions, and Sam just wants to be left alone to pout and be angry, but he knows Dean won't let him. He never does, not fully.

"There's no problem." he tries, and Dean's smacking his teeth.

"Bullshit." he spits. "You don't jump down somebody's throat like that and take shots if there's no problem. So what is it? You worried about her or something?" and Dean is just barely missing the point. "Cause it ain't your job to ride her back Sam, she can handle herself. Sort of cases we deal with everyday a couple of guys from the bar ain't gonna be too much trouble."

"Yeah, I got the message. She can handle herself." and he's grumpier than before, the evidence plain as day on his face.

"So then what the hell's your problem?" Dean demands.

"I like her, Dean." Sam finally offers and Dean's hand is waving him off instantly.

"Well sure, I like the kid too-"

"No, Dean." he emphasizes as Dean's eyebrows jump up. It takes him a second, but it finally clicks, hitting him like a ton of bricks as his mouth screws open in surprise. His body twists, chair turning as he turns in the direction you'd just gone, and then he's looking back at Sam and every last bit of the exasperation and grouchiness makes sense. He knows he ought to be gentle with this, but finds himself smirking coyly.

" Well, well, well." he reaches out and claps a hand against Sam's back, and the much taller man jolts at the impact. "And all this time I was worried you'd forgotten how to love a woman." and Dean is Dean, which means he's probably got no idea how insensitive his remark could be. But Sam knows Dean better than anyone, so he knows he doesn't mean much harm.

"Shut up." is Sam's instant response.

"I'm just saying. You've had a lot of misses there, Sammy. So as far as interest goes, this is damn sure a step in the right direction." And Sam notes how Dean always talks about you like you're the best person in their life. Sam knows you're not, but he like that Dean admires you so much. You were a lot like him, so Sam supposed it made sense. You both were rougher around the edges, strong, smart in the tactical sense.

And you both liked to drown your sorrows and trauma in things like booze, beer, and sexual conquests. And don't get him wrong, he had no real issue with the fact you were sexually liberated. In fact it was a very respectable sort of thing for what a woman to be. He just hated the fact that he never crossed your mind in that way. He was certain you'd even joked at some point about sleeping with Dean just for kicks.

"She's not a hill to climb, Dean." Sam shoots back, and he wishes he had just kept his mouth shut.

"Of course." Dean retorts, sounding unconvinced, because as usual anything that revolved around actually being interested in a woman past sleeping with her was lost on Dean. Which meant even with his teasing, he still only thought Sam was interested in you in the weakest of senses. But that wasn't the case. Because you were so much more than just some woman to conquer. He didn't even think he'd get the chance to try. You were daunting in the best way, too sure of yourself to take being used.

Which is why he never said anything. Because at first he thought you were only a pretty face that took his mind off the hurt Jess' death left behind. Until suddenly the thought of Jess didn't sting as bad, only because your presence became some sort of salving balm. He was screwed beyond repair.

"I'm serious." Sam insists, and now it's Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh, give me a break, Sam." he retorts. "Matter of fact, give yourself a damn break. You're gonna tear yourself apart sitting here pouting about it like a damn child." and Sam huffs through his nose. "If you're not gonna be a man about it and say something, then stop making it everyone else's problem." And Dean's not being mean. He's being Dean, but in his current state, Sam doesn't have it in him to not take offense. The whole 'Be a man' of it all reminding him too much of John.

"Screw you, Dean." Sam's up before either of them can really register it, and Dean's surprised at the drama of it all. It was different when they butt heads over cases, or their differing opinions of their father. But they didn't fight over stuff like this. They both just went about their lives doing their own thing as far as women were involved. And sure Dean knew you were beautiful, but you all knew how dangerous your job was. Falling in love was a death wish, and he thought Sam of all people knew it.

But as usual, he was wrong.

"Sam!" Dean calls after his younger brother, who navigates through the quickly growing crowd of drunks with ease. "Sammy!" He knows Sam hears him, but is choosing to ignore him. Dean also knows Sam doesn't have the keys to the impala, so it's not like he could actually leave. Which is the only reason he decides to give his baby brother a second to cool off. If he hadn't spun the block in ten minutes max though, Dean would be up and out of the bar guns almost blazing.

By the time Sam had managed his way through the crowd and stepped out of the bar, he'd partially forgotten what his big tantrum was about. That is until his eyes skim the parking lot, and he finds you of all people pressed up against the side of the place all by yourself. Your back is pressed fully into the brick of the building, eyes closed as you lent your head back. You looked a lot grouchier than you'd been earlier when you'd bounced over with all your teeth showing.

He wonders if your sour mood has anything to do with him.

He stands there for a moment, debating if he would approach you, before you open your eyes, and spot him. He thinks that answers the question for him. "What are you doing out here?" he asks, and your lips push out in a show of your disinterest in having a conversation with him. You were still upset by what he said. Figures. He lets his feet drag him towards you, and you tense up the moment he's close enough to really take you in. Your entire body is clenched up, and you're quick to force a wider gap between the both of you as Sam mimicked your posture on the wall.

"I thought you were getting out of here." and he doesn't know why he continues to talk, when it's clear you're choosing to ignore him.

"I thought so too." you reply gruffly, face scrunched up in disappointment.

"So what happened?" he pries. "Change your mind?"

You shoot him a sour look. "What are you doing, Sam?" you demand. "It's barely been twenty minutes. Whatever happened to 'Why don't you just go?'." you recite his words back to him and he winces. "You didn't want to talk to me before, so I don't want to talk to you now." you say, and it's a little bit childish. You both know it. But that was the thing about the two of you. Where you and Dean meshed because of your similarities, you and Sam often found yourselves in moments of odds.

When Dean pissed you off, all it'd really take is a few hours apart and then you'd both show up with peace offerings and move on as if nothing happened. It wasn't like that with Sam, not in the slightest. He always wanted to push, to dig your emotions out of you. You despised it, almost as much as you hated how he could be such a hypocrite sometimes. Forcing you to bare everything you felt to him, but lashing out at you and Dean whenever things got too much in his head. Sometimes you hated him.

Sometimes you hated both of them.

But most times you adored them, loved them with an intensity that you could never really understand. They were your boys, your best friends. The only family you still had and could trust now. And it was a step up from the family you used to have. Jim, Jack, and Jose could only help you so much. That family only ever left you with headaches and numbness. Dazes that lasted longer than your moments of clarity, and horrible hangovers. It was why you tried so hard with Sam and Dean.

Even when they pissed you off.

Because they saved you from yourself. Showed you there was more to life than drinking away your despair. In return you offered them protection. Someone else to take on the weight of keeping them safe. It was a fair deal. Hunting with them, being a team. They watched you back, and you watched theirs, and you all became better.

"I shouldn't have said it." he says with a sigh. "I don't even know why I did." Sam says, and you know there's more. Lots more he won't say. But you need him to, mostly because you'd been driving yourself sick thinking that he was growing tired of you being around. You were worried that one day you'd have nowhere to go back to. That one day they'd grow tired enough of you and all your tears, and anger, and aggression, and you'd wake up to an empty motel room. Find out the impala was long gone, with you left in the dust.

You think that's why you try to find someone new on every hunt. Why you'd allowed yourself to start drinking a bit more again, why you giggled a little harder at some of the unfunny jokes of the men and women who picked you up at the bars. Because if you had them, had someone, it wouldn't matter if Sam and Dean one day disappeared. You'd be okay, you'd be settled. You'd survive the heartache.

"Don't lie to me, Sam." you reply quietly, and your voice is heady. Sam hadn't even noticed the flask at first, his eyes widening in that way that showed he was worried about you. In your drunk and angry state though, it just looks like disgust. "If you're just gonna do that, you can fucking leave." you insist, and Sam is shocked. "See if I give a damn." and that was another problem with you and Sam. You both weren't the best with confrontation. Sure, you could both lash out, get angry and spew out the things you'd bottled up. But it wasn't like you ever really heard one another out.

When you fought, you both came in with your calculated notions and beliefs of each other. You didn't listen to reason, you listened to how you felt. What you believed to be right. Which meant that in moments like these where you're spewing words like 'See if I give a damn', all it really told Sam was that every thought he ever had about you wanting to get away from him and Dean seemed to be proven right.

"Well if you don't give a damn, then why do you even bother sticking around?" he seethes, and you scoff, head whipping around to fully stare him down. "I mean trust me, we'd never want to hold you back." and he says this part mockingly, and you think you hate him a bit more than you ever have. "Why don't you just leave for good? Why do you stay? Why do you- why do you keep up with any of this?" he demands and you push off the wall, turning your body as you glare up at him.

"Is that what you want? For me to leave for good, Sam?" you question, hands balling into tight fists as Sam's mouth drops open in shock at your question. The obvious answer being absolutely not. "Is that why you've been walking around with a stick up your ass, lashing out, and acting like a fucking toddler, you want me gone? You're a grown man, Samuel, why don't you just grow some balls and fucking say that instead of-" and you scoff because you feel yourself getting all the more angry just looking at him. "God, I don't even know why the hell I even bother with you Winchesters!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you drive me fucking crazy!" you erupt, voice picking up. "You know why I'm still here? Why I'm not off having a nice night?" you ask, but he knows it's rhetorical, so he doesn't speak. "Because I felt like shit leaving, knowing that you think I'm better at being gone than helping you when you're upset. I couldn't even think about sleeping with someone else when my friend was sitting at the bar dealing with whatever shit was flying through your head seemingly all by yourself. Because of course Dean wouldn't push you too far unless you were in danger."

And Sam thinks about how Dean hadn't chased him down when he left the bar, and finds himself a bit surprised at how much you pay attention to them both.

"Which meant if you weren't in danger, you wouldn't tell him shit. You'd bottle it up and try to deal with it alone. And I thought how fucked up of me to be thinking about sex when you were obviously really fucked up over something." you huff. "But now, you know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking that I was stupid for getting myself in a position where I care so much about two people who time and time again prove to everyone in their fucking circumference that we're better off leaving you two the fuck alone." you proceed, and Sam's as defensive as ever now. Face growing warm in anger.

"You knew what you were getting into when you decided to tag along." Sam retorts like a child. "Nobody's holding you hostage. Nobody is keeping you here against your will, okay? If we're that horrible to endure than leave. We'll be fine without you, we always are." Sam insists, and you scoff again, this one more disbelieving than the other. "No, I'm serious. You're never around after hunts anyway. If you're so eager to get away from us, if we're too much for you, than why torment yourself any longer? Go."

"Screw you, Sam."

"Screw me? How could this possibly be on me?"

"You're trying so hard to make this my idea." you snap. "But it's not, Sam. I'm still here. Don't you think if I wanted to leave you and your brother to rot that I could've several times over? Despite what you may believe, I have enough self respect to leave a situation I don't want to be in. You're the one being a moody jackass that can't grow the hell up and say what he feels." and you catch yourself. "And excuse me if sometimes I want a chance to feel like a regular fucking person." you proceed. "It's not like the odds of a hunter falling in love and living some cookie cutter life are high."

Sam blinks at that reminder.

"So don't make me feel like shit because you're too scared to let yourself feel even a semblance of normalcy for once." You're turning again, letting yourself lean back against the wall as you down all that's left inside the flask.

"I'm sorry." Sam exhales the words, guilt and aggravation rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah, well you should be." you retort. "I'm not the enemy here, Sam. And despite what you seem to think of me, I'm not just itching to go off on my own and leave you two behind. You guys are my family. We're in this shit together." you remind him. "But not if you keep like this, Sam. I'm not going to let you push me away. At that point i'd just go." you admit, and it's the truth. The codependency that ran deep between Sam and Dean was not something you'd choose to take on. Even if the thought of leaving them felt like splitting your heart apart and stomping on it, you had to love yourself more.

"I'm not trying to push you away." he insists, and your eyebrow jumps.

"Could have fooled me." you reply and Sam huffs.

"I'm a jackass, okay? I never should have-" and he thinks it was way easier expressing himself back at the bar with Dean. "I shouldn't have said any of it." and it's true, even though it was a constant thought. But that wasn't your problem, his personal issues with being abandoned or better put unstable as far as the people in his life were concerned. "Jesus." and the instant replay of every word he'd spewed at you guts him. Was he really that insecure? That filled to the brim with jealousy that he couldn't express his fears of losing you without lashing out and making you the villain.

God, he'd never felt more like John.

"Be honest with me." you demand. "What the hell's going on with you, Sammy? You're freaking me out, okay? What is it? Are you having nightmares again? More visions?"

"No." he denies plainly. "It's not like that." and while he did still have nightmares and visions, this had nothing to do with why he was in this particular situation with you.

"Then what? You know you can tell me anything."

"Not this."

"Well why not?" you press, and you feel annoyance flaring up again.

"I just can't, alright?"

"Oh, give me a fucking break, Sam!" you sneer. "How can you apologize and then go right back to acting like this?" you say.

"Because I am sorry." he promises. "I'm more sorry than you'll ever know. I'm sorry for what I said, and for talking to you like that, okay? It never should have happened. I shouldn't have ever said it. But this is personal. It's not something you can help."

"So, I'm just supposed to accept that it's always going to be like this?" and he thinks the answer is no. Just as soon as he gets over you, he can go back to normal. But he had no clue when that would be, or how long it would take. "Where you're angry at me?" you clarify, and Sam's immediately turning his stare to you.

"I'm not angry with you, Y/N."

"Then what is it? Are you-" you close your eyes and take in a breath when you start to yell again. "Sam, you have to give me something."

"Why can't you just accept that I can't tell you?" Sam questions as he straightens up, towering over you in the way he seemed to tower over everyone else. Still, you were older than him, intimidating in the way that a hard life seemed to make people. You match his stance, standing straighter as you glare up at him, and he glares down at you. "Why can't you just respect that and let me deal with this on my own?"

"Because I seem to be the only person getting affected by this little mood swing of yours." you remind him. "I'm the one getting the smart remarks, and the attitude, and the cold fucking shoulder. Not Dean, and not anybody else. So obviously your funky attitude has something to do with how you feel about me. So what is it? What did I do?" you ask, and you know you're treading dangerous territory, but you never cared. Angry or not, this was still Sam, your Sam, which meant you'd get him to crack eventually. You were more determined than most.

"You infuriate me!" he finally exclaims. "That's it." he adds, as you stare slack jawed. "You take up space, and make every part of my life difficult. When it was just me and Dean, he was the only thing I had to worry about. I looked out for him, and he looked out for me, and that was it. But then you showed up and you made it so easy to care about you. But now it's not just as simple as caring about you. It's not like Jo and Ellen and Ash where we're like partners. It's not like with Bobby, who's family. Because while I care about them no part of me harps on keeping them safe 24/7."

It takes you a second to recover from his initial words, as the rest spills out of him like a faucet, you find yourself shuffling away from Sam. "But that's all I can think about with you. Making sure you're safe, taking care of you. And sure, Dean thinks about it too, but it's different. It's always been different. And I haven't felt this way since Jess, so that's why it's-it's easier to make you want to leave than handle you deciding one day that you're done with us and disappearing. So I'm sorry, okay? It's not your problem, it's mine." he tells you, and you think you've never been more lightheated.

"And I'll work on it. I'll get better, it'll be okay, and we'll go back to normal eventually. But until I can get a lock on this, on how I feel, I can't be okay with you running off and being with someone new when I want you the way that I want you. But I'd never tell you what to do, or how to cope. So I don't say anything. I never say anything." he breathes the words out and they're painted with aggression and heartache, and it makes your stomach flip in the worst way. "Are you happy now?"

"Sammy..."

"I don't need you to feel bad for me, but now you see why I didn't want to talk about it."

"Sam, you're a coward." you huff out, and he exhales.

"I know."

"And you can't just- you can't just lash out on me... or anyone else just because you have feelings you don't understand." you lecture him.

"I understand my feelings perfectly, Y/N. That's what you and Dean don't ever seem to understand. I know exactly how I feel, and I know exactly what lengths I'd go to." he tells you more seriously than he's been all night.

"What lengths?"

"To protect you, to make sure you were okay. It's not something as simple as me just... wanting to get a few rocks off. Or because we're stuck on the road together, and you're just some pretty girl. I've never had a doubt in my mind that my brother would go to the ends of the world for me. And I'd do the same thing for him." he tells you, and you already knew that. "But now you're included in that. You're someone I take account of, and the things I'd do for you they're not normal, they're not okay."

"Sam..."

"Look, I never said you had to feel the same way. You're the one that pushed. You're the one that asked to know what you did."

"Sammy? You out here?" you both stall at the familiar sound of Dean, who's instantly looking between the both of you with a mixture of relief and curiosity on his face. "What's this? We throwing a party back here?" he questions as you snort out a laugh.

"Hardly." you retort. "You're packing it in early." you comment as Dean offers you a smirk that's so Dean.

"I could say the same for you." and then he's looking to Sam with a knowing glance on his face. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Sam says instantly, and Dean looks to you.

"Yes."

"Guess the Ayes have it." he whistles at his brother's expense, clapping him on the shoulder again, as he tosses the keys to Baby up in the air before catching them in his hands. "If you guys aren't done in ten, I'm leaving your asses." and you know he's mostly joking, but still, you feel a flower bomb of appreciation exploding in your chest.

"Wait, De-" Sam starts, only to be ignored as Dean tosses the keys up in the air once more, catching them as he strides off, almost as quickly as he showed up, and Sam's turning to you with a questioning and pensive look on his face. "I don't really see what else there is to talk about." Sam says as you poke him roughly in the chest.

"Cut the crap, Sam. You're not the only person allowed to talk here, alright?" you tell him, and his eyes roll. "Were you even going to give me a chance to say anything back?" you question.

"What's the use, I already know what you're going to say." he tries, and you snort.

"You're a coward, Sam Winchester."

"I think we already covered that." he says dryly, as you shake your head.

"Why didn't you ever say anything? About how you feel?" you pry.

"You said it yourself. Hunters don't get to fall in love and live a cookie cutter life." he reminds you and you shake your head again.

"But you didn't even give me a chance to decide if I even wanted to try. What were you going to do? Ice me out until you forced yourself to feel differently for me? You're that determined to die with your pride?"

"It's not about pride. It's about being realistic, it's not like you ever gave me any sort of indication that feeling this way was alright."

"Sam, you're allowed to feel however you want. It's not my job to tell you if the way you feel for me is okay, because it is." you retort. "Even if I didn't feel the same way." you remind him, as his face seems to tinge with embarrassment. "Lucky enough for you though, doofus. I think there's worse things in the world than having feelings for a Winchester." and it takes it a moment to register on Sam's face, his eyes widening.

"What?"

"Look. I'm not saying it's true love, okay? All the shit we've seen, I don't know if humankind was lucky enough to earn it. But I do know that you're so important to me. Important enough to put everyone else on the backburner. I thought it was clear enough that I love you, Sam. What I don't understand is why you were so scared to tell me the truth." you admit as Sam lets your words float around him like a wave.

"I was scared you'd leave." he admits plainly.

"Sometimes I get scared of that too. That one day you'll both vanish right out of my life." you admit, and it squeezes Sam's heart in his chest. "Maybe that feeling will never fully go away, we can't ever say what'll happen in the future. But I do know that I'm here now." you tell him and you reach out and grab his hand. "And you're here now, okay? So why don't we let that be enough for us for now. If that's what you want." you offer, and Sam looks at you, really looks at you, and thinks he'll love you forever. Almost as much as he hates you for running his mind like it was your own.

"I do. I want that."

"Okay." you squeeze his hand gently. "So can we try again? Without the theatrics and the yelling this time. Just- just tell me what you'd want from me, Sammy."

"I want to be with you." he says it so hurriedly, you can't fight your little smirk. "And I don't know how long it'll last, but I know I'll try for as long as I can to make it work. I know we can't exactly have... an apple-pie life, but- I could be whatever you need me to be. I just know all this hunting stuff, saving people stuff makes a lot more sense when you're doing it with me, okay? And I don't want to lose that-" you don't leave room for much else, tugging him towards you and pouring every bit of how much you care about him into the way you kiss him.

Instantly, he's picking you up by the thighs, letting them wrap around his hips as he kisses you back feverishly. It's almost dizzying, especially as your head smacks the brick wall of the bar, your hands flying from his face, to his hair, and back down again. He thinks he could kiss you forever, and you think you could quite quickly learn to believe in true love. It wasn't conventional, but you knew you'd love him forever, almost as much as you hated him for controlling the beat of your heart as if it was his own.

You were certain if the desperation grew any thicker you'd both be stripped bare right there in the open, but the obnoxious honk, honk, honk of Dean from the driver's seat of the impala pulls you both apart like you'd been electrocuted. "Get a room!" he exclaims, face covered in fax disgust as Sam's hands squeeze politely at your hips as you stare up at him.

"At least we don't have to have the talk with your brother." you offer sheepishly.

"Oh, he'll find a way to force the talk." Sam retorts as you both chuckle nervously. Since you'd met there had always been a difference in the way you were with Dean, and the way you were with Sam, and you think that this new turn in your relationship with Sam would come with a lot of hard work, a lot of work that you'd normally never be inclined to give a chance. But as Sam gingerly places you back on two feet, and you find your knees wobbling just slightly as he nods his head towards the impala, that you would much like he insisted: go to the ends of the world [and everything in between] just to get back to him. which meant in the grand scheme of things, that even if things romantically ended horribly wrong, Sam Winchester was a good risk.

One you'd gladly make for the rest of your life.

Even if he didn't know it yet.

[elenor222]

Pairing: Takeru Danma (Hatter) × Reader

Fandom: Alice in Borderland

Summary: You enter the borderlands and meet Takeru who takes you under his wing.

Words: 2.3k

(includes smut)

The fireworks in the sky glowed. It was an exceptional day in Shibuya. Not saying there weren’t usual chaebol show offs in play, but nonetheless it brightened up the sky glimmering orange in your eyes. Suddenly, it was coming burning down. The sun was too close, heat was shattering the ground your feet was on.

You blinked.

Blue was dissolving the pink sky. There were no stars. You stared for a moment longer. Where had the fireworks gone? You turned to other people to wonder if it happened in a blink of eye for them too. You were left dumbfounded. Shibuya was devoid of any body. Your breath hitched; Shibuya was never empty. No matter what.

You ran to the nearest stores looking for anyone you could find. Then when you couldn’t find anyone, you scrambled to the train station, followed by the food chains. You wondered if this was a sick joke. How as it even possible to get so many people to comply with such?

What if you were the last person on earth and were destined for something beyond? Your panic was too much to comprehend such greatness. You wondered if getting home would be the best decision. But you couldn’t. the trains couldn’t start by themselves ofcourse.

You were still sulking in the streets when the giant billboard screen in Shibuya lit up.

Game:

2 of clubs

You backed up a little. What was this? Was there actually someone? In hindsight, you saw a few men appear. They looked at you with caution. You didn’t know if you could blame them. You scanned the room, making eye contact with an intimidating man. He looked older and tired. But there was this undeniable gleam in his eyes. His hair was fine too. There was a man beside him, possibly a friend. He looked scary. Muscular and bald. Aren’t they the ‘will kill you’ types? You shuddered.

Yet you still made your way to them, having no choice. They looked the least threatening out of the bunch. There was also this hunch, no matter what you did, you would end up as companions. Or something you couldn’t possibly place your finger on.

“New?” the lanky man asked with an improvised smile.

You didn’t understand what it meant but you nodded nonetheless. They shared looks of acknowledgement, with each other. This character, who introduced himself as Takeru, placed his hand on your shoulders and led the way to the massive building. You were surprised by such friendliness to say the least.

Like both men, you collected your phone with their instructions and were instantly recognised. This disoriented you. You were explained the rules of the game. Hunting, they called it. You grimaced. You have always been much too fragile for your liking. Seeing the frown on your face, Aguni who was introduced by Takeru spoke for the first time.

“You’ll be fine. As long as you stick with us” that didn’t sound too comforting in your head. Aguni loaded his gun. No one had said anything about violence before. It was all too much to take in at once. You knew you had to play along. At least for now.

You chased and ran with them, taking in your surroundings. Formulating the turns of the hallways and memorising the patter. You had taken a gun from one of the dead players, like Aguni suggested you do. You may have gagged while doing do but were soon relived.

Once you had separated from the duo, you understood the main game of the borderlands. Kill or get killed. You were getting cornered for not having anyone to vouch for you. They were claiming you were the dealer of the game and demanding answers. Hell, you didn’t even know what a dealer was.

There was no point in saying you were not; they wouldn’t believe you anyways. Your mind went back to Takeru and how his hands had claimed your shoulders. You didn’t know the number of bullets the gun held, but you shot. Once, twice and thrice. Only when you clicked the fourth time the gun gushed. You were out of bullets with two men witnessing you killing three. You quivered.

You ran with blood in your hands. You were out of breath; never did you think you’d have to run for your life. You crashed into Takeru’s chest. He held your arms and looked in your eyes. Could he see the lifeless frames reflecting?

The men had stopped but still held the knives pointed at you. Aguni tried reasoning but soon raised his gun taking aim, once he confirmed the hatter wanted you to live. The men lunged at you, barely scraping your skin when Aguni shot at them. Your eyes went wide. You had killed 5 people. Takeru pulled you closer to his chest. A trail of blood was flowing by your collarbone. You let a tear escape when the man patted your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Aguni muttered something about you slowing them down but you couldn’t care less.

You put your head in the nape of Takeru’s neck and thought about your life back home, all the people you loved and all who loved you. A mutual understanding had passed between the both men, because soon Aguni turned to the dark hallways to finish the game while you stayed there, reasting your body on the man you met a few minutes ago.

The game was finished. You had returned to your senses too, face a shade of crimson. You pulled away from the man and profusely apologised for delaying their game. He looked disappointed that you had left his embrace. But his face twisted. Aguni was back. They were to go home, and you were coming along, Takeru declared. Aguni sighed.

You were glad to have a place to rest but wary at the same time. Why save you? Wouldn’t you just slow them down again? you tried to brush those thoughts of insecurity away for the night as Aguni briefly explained the games to you. You were suited for a heart it seemed.

They took you to a lavish hotel, which they called the beach where you met a few others. You liked Kuzuryu, you decided. He didn’t pretend that he was happy to see you. His face had contorted to a grimace when he saw you. Mira had whispered it was always so, and you did not play much of a part in it.

Takeru was the leader it seemed. You looked visibly weirded out by the cult, and so did Aguni. You would stay as long as it helped you and no more.

You took your place in your assigned room and washed yourself. Takeru’s smell seemed to linger on your body far too long for your liking. His smell was sweet. Like a daiquiri. You glanced at your cut and decided against taking risks of infections. Surely, they would have some band aids for cuts.

In the normal world, you would be worried about the mark it would leave. But Aguni’s body had plenty and so did the rest, you were sure. they had learnt to live with these bruises. you would too. Even if it killed you now.

you roamed the hallways in search for the kit when you stumbled across a door left slightly ajar. Light was peeking through the gap. You held the doorknob unsure whether you wanted to open it not. Someone pulled the door from the other side; and you were pulled along with the it.

For the second time that day, you were met with Takeru’s hard chest. He let out a breathy laugh.

“Hello princess”

You lingered a moment too long on his chest trying to conceal the red in your cheeks. You greeted him looking at his dark eyes. The room was beautifully lit in the dim shades of the sun. you wondered if Takeru was the sun for you.

His hold on your waist had tightened just a little when you started to ramble about how you were trying to find a damn band aid when you ended up on his room. His heart felt so full, ever since he first laid his eyes on you a few hours back. He was looking at your face with a kind of soft wonder. Would you still be in his arms if you were in the real world? Would you not be afraid of who he was?

Though awkward, you didn’t want to leave his embrace. His body had a familiar kind of warmth to it that made you think, if you were to die, it would preferably be in his arms.

Soon your voice had died and he removed his hands with a chuckle. You doubted if he even heard a word. He suggested he bandage your wounds himself. And you couldn’t deny.

So, you let him. You sat on the edge of his bed frame while he tended to your wound. He caressed your skin when he saw you flinch from the medicines he applied on your wound. He looked up once he was done.

His eyes were so bright. So dreamy. You could stare at them for hours. His nightgown had left his chest open for you to gawk at. You inched your face closer, sharing breaths. He stared back with the same light and intensity.

He connected your lips and you felt warmth spread all over you. His lips were a little chapped and the kiss was haste. He inched back searching your face if this was something what you wanted. He wouldn’t be mad if you in fact, did not. He could remember the first day he was here, how empty he had felt even with a friend by his side.

You whined pulling him back in. he smiled into the kiss, letting your lips guide him. Your hands explored his chest, drawing circles across his shoulders. With a particular hard tug of his lips, you dug your fingers in his back and he let out a moan.

“Oh princess” he whispered as he put his forehead against yours to collect his breath. His hands went to back of your neck. Your pussy tingled at the name he just called you.

“Do you want this?” he looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“please”

He turned you both pulling you in his lap as he reconnected your lips with hurry. He couldn’t waste a moment of this. He was finally feeling something. Maybe he would’ve never met you in the real life. But he was glad, he did here. You kiss him back with just as much hunger.

There is a heat forming at your core, you move your hips against his. The relief makes you tilt your head back. He takes the chance to kiss your neck. You smell of almonds and oud he notices. Just what he likes.

You tug at his robe while his hands fumble with your blouse. A string of pearls remains dangling on your neck as he removes the blouse.

He stares deep in your eyes. “beautiful”

He pushes you on the bed looming over your frame. Your nipples harden looking at his heaving body. He kisses your left breast while mauling the right. He bites your tits looking up for approval. You moan pornographically. He continues his toying with your body. He’s made up his mind to get to know every part of your body by the end of the night.

He switches his assault to the right breast while his hand travels down to your core. you’re wet already. He asks if he can, you can only nod. The pressure is too much to endure. He cups your heat as you hold your breath. He gently opens up your core and finds your bundle of nerves. He rubs slow circles watching you whimper from the motion.

“more”

“What’s that princess?”

“please, fuck me”

He plunges two fingers in your heat. Your body opens up to his hands without any deliberation. He continues to rub your clit with the third finger. He watches you squirm and kisses you as you come undone. you’re grasping for air. Face a beetroot red. Your nails leave marks on his skin. He savours the feeling.

He lays beside you to catch his breath for a moment. Turns out, you’re not the only one overstimulated.

“Ride me” he says after a while of staring up at the celling. You didn’t need to be asked twice.

You turn at him with a smug look on your face. You get up rolling your hips onto his. You fully open his nigh suit and grasp at his dick. He would surely allow you the pleasure to choke on it right?

You lick it, then suck it, gagging on his length, all while looking his face.

“Fuck princess”

He pulls your hand, and you guide his dick to its rightful place. Your pussy welcomes him home, milking it. You clench at the fullness you feel. Both of you gasp at the out worldly sensation. You start to bounce on his cock once you adjust to his size.

You bend to his face, letting him suck on your tits. He rubs his face on them. Your necklace hits his nose. He wonders where were you all his life. This wasn’t just sex to him, and he wondered if you felt the same. His cock was twitching inside, he looked at you. You had felt it too.

“Inside Takeru” you kissed him.

So, he came inside you, coating your walls and leaving a thick trail of cum when he pulled out. You laid on his chest, basking in the after-sex glow. You talked of the butterflies in your garden and the wild nights of his life and kissed all night.

You had each other today, no matter if you didn’t survive tomorrow.

Authors note:

AHHHHHHH, this was so much fun to write. Got me out of the writing slump. Like always, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[arc-misadventures]

An Offer You Won’t Refuse

Jaune: Why can’t you guys believe me when I say I got laid?

SN: Because it’s you.

Jaune: Haaaa… Assholes.

The person complaining that his roommates couldn’t believe he had sex was one, Jaune Luna Arc. A first year college student majoring in business. While his collage roommate’s doubting the fact that he had sex were a blonde hair monkey faunas named, Sun Wukong, and their friend the blue haired self proclaimed ‘ladies man’ named, Neptune Vasilias.

The duo had dragged, Jaune to a bar with the intent of, ‘picking up some ladies.’ And, where he had actually managed to score a night with a beautiful lady, they had failed to get anything. And, because of this they doubted that he got anything. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it…

Jaune: You guys are just jealous I spent a night with a lady, while the only thing you guys got was a pair of matching black eyes.

Jaune’s remark was a very accurate statement of fact that after he come from an enjoyable one-night stand he came back to see the pair with ice packs over their eyes.

Sun: Not true!

Neptune: I would have totally banged that chick! If her boyfriend didn’t arrive…

Jaune: Yeah, that’s why you didn’t get any.

Neptune: Hey man, you just don’t understand the art, of seduction~!

Jaune: The what?

Sun: The art of seducing a woman~!

Jaune: And, that is?

Neptune: We’re falcons pal…

Sun: Falcons~!

Neptune: You can’t just send us out when a pretty girls is there, and expect us to capture her now can you?

Sun: That’s not how we falcons fly.

Neptune: We gotta fly high, and scope out the prey, and when we find our mark we’ll swoop in for the kill. We just can’t go in, and steal the girl on command now can we?

Sun: It’s an art, Jaune. You wouldn’t understand it.

Jaune just looked at the duo as he was forced to comprehend the dumbest thing he had yet heard, and considering the people who he hung around that was something.

Jaune: What the hell are you two talking about?! Yes you can send a falcon out on command to hunt its prey! There’s an entire sport based around it: Falconry!

Sun: Eh?

Neptune: Beg pardon?

Jaune: It’s like one of the oldests sports out there! People are still doing it to this day! Hell, people have been using falcons, and hawks to take down drones!

Neptune: That’s not true… right?

Sun: Oh shit, they actually use hawks to take down drones.

Neptune: Wait really?!

Jaune: Haa… if hitting on girls was like hitting the broadside of a barn, you lot couldn’t hit it with a, Javelin missile.

Sun: I couldn’t do that!

Neptune: Guns scare me!

Jaune dropped his head as he sighed at the duo’s stupidity, or more accurately their ignorance.

Although stupidity is a more adept description the pair. The duo would offer a drowning man a drink thinking he’s not drowning, just really thirsty.

Jaune: A Javelin missile is an rpg with an auto-lock feature. Not a gun.

Neptune: There’s a difference?

Jaune: Haa… you see this is why I don’t invite you to play, Arma with my clan.

Neptune: Well we may not know the difference between… weapons…? But, that still doesn’t mean you had sex with a girl.

Jaune: Guys, it’s been two weeks since we went to the bar, can we just drop it, and move…

“Knock, knock, knock.”

Jaune: On…?

Jaune stopped talking in his tracks as he heard a knocking upon the door. He looked at the pair while pointing his finger at the door.

Jaune: We’re you…?

The pair shook their heads, and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t expecting anyone to come visit them. Like anyone would anyway.

Jaune just shrugged his shoulders as he walked over, and opened the door, he was met with several individuals dressed in black suits with tinted shades hiding their face. The quartet seemed to be watching around them to see if anyone was coming.

Jaune was worried they were a hit squad coming to make get their mark. He could only cower as he wondered whose girl, Neptune pissed off that they would put a mark on him. But, that thought swiftly died as he started at the woman between what actually were four bodyguards. For it was not someone he expected to meet again. He never thought she would grace his presence with her beauty ever again.

With flowing ashen white hair cascading down her elegant shoulders. Draped in a tapestry of fine jewelry of silver, sapphires, and ruby’s. A red gown that displayed a fair amount of her sizeable cleavage, as a dark coat hung lazily off her shoulders. But, what drew, Jaune in the most were those red tinted glasses, that hid a pair of striking vibrant red eyes that he lost himself in.

It was the lady from his one night stand. A woman, Jaune would never forget until death took him.

Jaune: S-Salem?!

Salem: Hello, Ar… no. Hello, Jaune. You’re looking well.

Jaune: Thank you! Y-You’re looking fantastic. But, uhh… why are you here? You said after our… night together that it would be just a one time thing, and we would never see each other again. And, yet here you are.

Salem: And, yet here I am…

Jaune could barely see, Salem’s eyes because they blended beautifully with her glasses, but he could tell by the way her body was seemingly twitching that she was nervous. He was about to ask her whats wrong, but then his roommates happened.

Sun: Holy hell?! You actually had sex?!

Neptune: Damnmmm! She is smoking hot! How much did she cost you? Eh, eh?!

Salem could tell by his teasing manner upon which the blue boy spoke he was joking with, Jaune. But, to insinuate that she was a call girl?! Maybe she should let her associates teach this child some manners.

But before, Salem could give the command, Jaune held a single finger up, silently asking for a moment before shutting the door. She was wondering what was going on, but then she heard a loud thud as if something had fallen over. As the door soon reopened to reveal the smiling face of, Jaune Arc. She could see behind him the form of the blue haired boy, groaning in pain as he clutched his groin.

Salem shot, Jaune a small smile from the corner of her lips, and he just waved it off as if it was nothing.

Jaune: So… What bring you to our humble abode?

Salem: I need to discuss something with you of the utmost importance.

Jaune: Okay, what is it?

Salem’s eyes darted around as if she was trying to find the words to speak before she returned his gaze.

Salem: This would be a discussion best help in private.

Jaune nodded his head as he told his friends to scram. The blond monkey nodded his head as he pulled his friend, who was in the fetal position whilst still clutching his privates on the floor out the room. As soon as they were out of the room, Jaune stood aside allowing, Salem to enter his dorm room.

Salem: Thank you for allowing me… in…?

Salem’s thought process stopped in its tracks rather abruptly. She was going to tell him something important, but as she took in the absolute state of, Jaune’s apartment her mind did a reset, and was the midst of a reboot as she processed this, ‘mess.’

Jaune was about to ask her if something was wrong, then he saw where her eyes were going, and he sighed in understanding.

Jaune: Yeah its a…

Salem: A pig sty?

Jaune: That’s an… apt description.

Jaune’s apartment was an absolute mess: Wrappers, and empty bottles strewn across the place. Half finished take out boxes laying across every table in sight. Clothes from teeshirts to underwear draped all over the furniture. But, there was one thing that was most damning of all that was the crown jewel of this pig sty.

Salem: I-Is that a banana peel on the lamp shade?

Jaune: Haa… Gods dammit, Sun…

Jaune looked over, and groaned in disgust as he grabbed a bucket, seemingly filled to the brim with banana peels, and tossed the latest addition into the bucket.

Jaune: Sun, uhh… the blond monkey faunas you saw earlier. His family are all monkey faunas’s so the have a habit of eating a banana, and tossing the peal away when they’re finished.

Salem: Not into the trash I assume?

Jaune: Unfortunately not. I’ve told him to stop doing that, but he won’t listen to me. So, I’ve been collecting his banana peels for the past two weeks, and I plan to stuff them in his pillow case as form of petty vengeance.

Salem: Do you think that will work?

Jaune: Well, they stink so they should send a message of sorts. If not I’ll tie his tail to the bed frame, or something.

Salem: You would do that to a faunas; That seems rather cruel don’t you think?

Jaune: I have slipped on several banana peels, and landed hard on my back, I will make sure he learns through pain that I am very vindictive bastard.

Salem: And, is the rest of this mess from that blue haired boy?

Jaune: Neptune? Ehh no. It’s from both of them, they’re total slobs. I was about to threaten them with bodily harm if they didn’t clean up the place. But, they started going on again that I totally didn’t have sex with a woman who had the body of an angel carved from the finest of marble slabs, craved painstakingly by a superb master craftsman.

Salem: Why thank you~! You would make a handsome marble statue yourself, Jaune.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Ahck?! I-I-I’m sorry?! I didn’t want to tell them anything about you, but they wouldn’t believe me, so I had to say something?! N-Not a lie, you are gorgeous! Divine even… But… Uhh… It’s a little hot in here…? Perhaps I s-should open a window…

Jaune made way for a window, but was stopped in his tracks as he heard, Salem’s melody of laughter. During the time they spent at the bar talking, he spent every moment trying to get a laugh out of her. Her laughter was angelic, and her smile divine. One he spent the whole night trying to make appear before his very eyes.

Salem had told him the sad story of her life, and her past love. It was a story of sorrow, regret, and betrayal. A love that was, a life that could have been, and the truth to a lie that ruined it all.

She didn’t tell him every detail, it was her right to have her secrets. Jaune didn’t want to know everything either, they were just two strangers sitting alone at a bar. One musing over her drink, the other musing over time. He was just there to be the ear who heard her complaining, the voice to ask the question she wanted asked, and the shoulder to cry over.

Afterwards, Salem asked if, Jaune could give her a ride home. She hadn’t drunk a lot, but even a little alcohol mixed with driving a car could be fatal. And, being the gentleman he tried to be, he accepted her request for aid.

He took her home, and he would have left things at that. But, she insisted that he come in, he remembered her giving him a vague excuse of why he should stay, but he never remembered it. What made him stay was the pleading look in her eyes that beg that she didn’t want to be alone. So he stayed, and one thing lead to another, and he awoke in her bed with her resting softly against him.

It was a moment of weakness, and desire of the flesh. One that they both knew that shouldn’t have happened. But, it was one neither would deny they regretted. After that they agreed to part ways, they would never regret this moment of fleeting love shared between them. But, it was a one time deal, and they would never see each other again.

And yet, Salem was here, right now, right before, Jaune’s very eyes.

Jaune: Why don’t we go to my room? I can assure you it doesn’t look like a bomb went off at a dump.

Jaune opened the door to his room, and ushered, Salem inside his room. Salem was hesitant to enter his room, because it was his, but he assured her it wasn’t like the pigsty she was currently standing in, so she walked in. And, what surprised her ahead l was that, Jaune, once again, he was true to his word.

While the description of, ‘a bomb that went off at a dump,’ was an adept description of their living room, Jaune’s room was a complete contrast to that.

His bed was made, his clothes hanged on their hooks, his floor was vacuumed, and his books neatly arrange along the book case. Even the little figurines he had were neatly in their display cases. The only mess there was upon his desk where an assortment of art supplied, and school books lay strewn about. And, if anything, it would be considered an organized mess at best.

Jaune: Would you like a seat?

Jaune pushed, his charge towards her, and graciously offered her a seat. Salem looked towards the chair, and simply shook her head at his kind offer.

Salem: No, no thank you. But, perhaps you should take a seat.

Jaune: Why, is something wrong, Salem?

Salem: Over a week after our night together, I went in for a medical check up. Standard routine check up for me, I usually have one every three months, or so.

Jaune: That’s a good routine to have. I probably should get a check up myself, it’s been a while since I last saw a doctor.

Salem: Yes… while I was having my check up… They discovered something rather… unexpected…

Jaune: You’re dying?!

Jaune didn’t understand why someone he had a fling with was coming here to tell him that. Unless, was it his fault she was dying?

Jaune was about to start having a panic attack, when, Salem rushed forward, and spoke softly as she tried to calm his nerves.

Salem: Nononono… It’s nothing like that. Quite the opposite really.

Jaune: What’s the opposite of dying? Reincarnation?

Salem laughed as she shook her head, taking off her glasses, and gently placing them on his desk.

Salem: I forgot how much of an adorable goofball you are.

Jaune: Thank you?

Salem: Jaune… let me put this to you bluntly.

Jaune: Okay?

Salem straightened her back, and started, Jaune dead in the eye. Crimson, and cerulean locked in a bitter struggle, neither wanting to look away from the beauty before their eyes.

What felt like an eternity, but merely lasted a few seconds, Salem took a deep breath, and told, Jaune the reasons she was here. A reason that filled her with equal parts dread, and hope. So, with those blood red eyes, she stared at the young man, and spoke words with a voice of steel that completely enthralled him to ever word that dropped from her luscious red lips.

Salem: Jaune… You better take responsibility, or else…

Jaune: …

Jaune: Eh…?