#the supernatural fandom should start thinking like this

[aliusfrater]

i hateee the way the supernatural narrative sets up like. relationship conflict through fault because i feel like it's counterintuitive to understanding characterisations and relationship dynamics

[diazisms]

hi so I just looked up what proship means. and I just wanted to ask if you like/support incest or pedophilia ships?

i support uncensored media. does that mean i like all of it? no. do i believe it’s important it exists and continues to exist? yes.

you don't have to like/support "problematic" content to believe it shouldn't be censored. censorship affects all of us, but especially lgbt and poc creatives. it starts with the things that everyone agrees is bad — no one, not even the people who read underage, thinks harming kids is okay in any capacity.

but it never stops there. it doesn't stop at underage or incest or rape. once a corporation realizes it has your stamp of approval to censor shit, they'll keep going until it's a white cishet conservative's dream. nothing queer, nothing where poc struggles are a focal point and it's talking negatively about white people and white supremacy. no sex. no sex no matter how vanilla. that's a problem. everyone, especially people who fall into marginalized identities, should be really, really against that.

this purity culture that's started to run rampant in fandom, this need to sanitize everything, to make sure everything exists very neatly within the box of Morally Right is harmful. fiction is not inherently good or bad because it's not real.

reading about siblings having sex doesn't actually hurt anyone, neither does writing it.

this shame surrounding taboo sexual topics, though?

that hurts people. that hurts kids. purity culture is spreading in fandom but it didn't start here. people are so worried about being "morally good" about media that has no moral responsibility in the first place that they completely ignore the real life repercussions of telling children that talking about sex is wrong, that if you've ever had thoughts that don't align with the purity mindset that you're gross, that if something ever happens to you you shouldn't talk about it, that if something happens to you and, in your trauma, it becomes something you're into in a consensual, pro-kink context that you're dirty.

the vast majority of people i know and have seen both online and in person with rape or ageplay kinks are victims of sexual abuse.

fiction is a comfort and it's allowed to be no matter how weird someone else thinks it is.

no one's telling you you need to go on ao3 dot com right now and filter everything with "underage". no one's telling you to make nsfw fanart of siblings if you don't want to. the point of being pro-ship is that you're in favor of people doing what they want with fiction. i know it's got "pro" in the name, but the point of being pro-ship is to be anti censorship.

(and, yeah, i ship the brothers from supernatural.)

[drchucktingle]

Where is the best place to preorder Bury Your Gays? What is of most benefit to you?

i know other types of media have given the trot of preorders a bad way, but for publishing books i cannot even begin to tell you buckaroos HOW IMPORTANT PREORDERS ARE WHEN SUPPORTING AUTHORS YOU CARE ABOUT. i mean HECK preorders are so important i even wrote three dang tinglers about it

basically preorders are what publishers use to determine how much financial backing they will give a book for advertising and book tours and all that, but that is only PART of this way. BOOK STORES also use a preorder equation to determine how much shelf space to give a book. your preorder does not just mean YOU get a book for yourself, but basically means you are making room for someone ELSE to get the book in a store by putting another copy on a shelf

that is why it is better to put in a preorder instead of just saying 'oh i will just remember to buy myself a copy on the day it comes out'

LASTLY preorders are how books get onto bestseller lists because all the orders leading up to your book release date COUNT AS FIRST WEEK SALES. something like new york times bestseller list is close to impossible trot without preorders

think of it like a handsome surfing bigfoot trying to ride a wave. it is one thing to actually ride on the wave, but what matters most is that initial moment when you GET UP THERE and actually have the strength to pull yourself up when the wave starts. PREORDERS are the climbing up part

NOW LETS GET DOWN TO YOUR SPECIFIC QUESTION

first of all ANY preorder is great. what matters most as far as bestseller lists is actually FORMAT. the best thing you can order for an author is not ebook or audiobook, it is HARDCOVER. personally i am an audiobook buckaroo myself so please understand you should order whatever format you want, but technically speaking the answer is HARDCOVER

next is WHERE do you order. this answer is pretty dang cool actually. the best place to order for the sake of author is your LOCAL INDIE BOOKSTORE. if you MUST order at a big timer website that is fine, but many bestseller lists are weighted towards indie bookstores

so to sum it up. the technical BEST WAY to support chuck with 'bury your gays' is to PREORDER a HARDCOVER from an INDIE BOOKSTORE.

thank you for your question but before you go trotting along i would like to add one more thing

all art is important. when we create things they serve as stepping stones for us to move along our journey as artists and creators on this timeline. i have so much love for every book i have made, from POUNDED IN THE BUTT BY MY OWN BUTT to CAMP DAMASCUS

but i have to say with deep sincerity in my way, BURY YOUR GAYS is something special. i absolutely believe that if you care about fandom, or creation, or love, or fanfiction, or supernatural, or the future of media, or asexual buckaroos, or gay buckaroos, or bi buckaroos or any queer buckaroos, you will love this book. i promise buckaroo

it is the best thing i have ever written, and i think it is going to bend this timeline in incredible ways. i would like you to trot with me into the future, since we have already trotted this far together. i cannot say this enough: this one is special, and the timelines we create from here are going to make the whole dang world look up in surprise and say 'where the heck did that come from?'

so if you are even CONSIDERING preordering, take a moment a do it.

if you are one of those buckaroos who says 'chuck tingle is my favorite author ive never read' then now is your moment

lets trot buckaroos. thank you for reading and thank you for constantly proving to me that love is real

preorder BURY YOUR GAYS here

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol

Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol

Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha

Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do

---

It lived beneath his skin.

For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.

It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.

It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.

A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.

Except.

Except.

Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

Lived.

Not existed. Not contained. Lived.

He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.

He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.

It lived beneath his skin.

Until it didn’t.

He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.

He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.

To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.

He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.

He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.

It had been different, recently.

His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.

He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.

In the dream, he was in a room.

Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.

The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.

In the dream he felt like he was dying.

In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.

That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.

He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.

Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.

He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.

It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.

He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.

She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.

Or JL light, for that matter.

Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.

A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -

He tried not to think about the or.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.

The world burned back to life in sharp relief.

The dream.

The room.

Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.

It looked larger on the screen.

Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.

She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -

Looking at him.

The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.

But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

She lived beneath his skin.

He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.

Not as felt as she used to be.

The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.

It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.

Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:

Run.

Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.

All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.

They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.

Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.

The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.

[goerhoejtbiddernaeppelillehund]

Okay. I'm going to weigh in on some Dead Boy Detectives shipping discourse. (Oh gods I'll probably regret this)

First of all, love the show so so much, please go watch it if you haven't already. Good supernatural mysteries, excellent queer rep, what more could you ask for?

Now. I've stumbled across several DBD posts where peoples reaction to Charles and Crystal flirting have been somewhat unpleasant. A lot of "Ugh, ewww, noooo don't, that's wrong, you're not supposed to do that!"

And look, I'm a Payneland shipper as much as the next person, but it doesn't sit right with me. Now there's a whole can of worms about how Crystal as a character has been received by parts of the fandom and how that's part of a much larger pattern and someone more qualified than me should definitely go into that.

I personally found the romance between Charles and Crystal rather sweet. Sure it's awkward and imperfect, but that, to me, just makes it feel more real. One of the few things in the show that reminds you that these characters are actually supposed to be teenagers. And while it does create tension between Charles and Edwin, I don't feel like it, in any way, overshadows or prevents their very real and intimate relationship.

But it seems to me like some people feel that way, like Crystal is an obstacle to Charles and Edwin getting together. Which, aside from giving me supernatural flashbacks, seems rather narrow minded to a bi and polyam person like myself.

I think it especially bothers me because the fandom has almost unanimously agreed on Charles being bisexual and praised him for it, which is apparently all well and good in the abstract, but as soon as he actually starts performing bisexuality it's "ewww, get away from the girl and back to the Edwardian twink." Particularly jarring since none of the men/cats/birds making advances on Edwin have gotten as much backlash ('ve seen some, but not nearly as much).

Any other bi people feel like they recognise something there?

TLDR: Watch and Rewatch DBD, and next time you're annoyed at Charles and Crystal flirting, maybe try examining exactly why that bothers you.

[miiilowo]

Highlights / Notable info from the second Scott Cawthon Dawko interview for people who don't want to watch it

MISC/START OF INTERVIEW

- scott says the 1 thing he'd wanna go back and change/fix the past 10 years is FNAF world; said a lot of weird/bad decisions were made going into it, that he didn't like the graphics and it Could Have been a good game but he doesn't like it overall & he may consider making an improved sequel

- he was scared to hand FNAF over to steel wool but he thinks he got lucky w/ them

- refuses to play both FNAF VR games because they genuinely scare him too much; didn't want to beta test them (funny)

- he very much knows the fandom prefers pure horror and the supernatural but cant resist leaning into scifi stuff

- doesn't like the names burntrap and glitchtrap and they were supposed to be temporary

SECURITY BREACH

- half blames covid splitting up steel wools workforce for the games lack of quality and delays

- says his "vision of the game" was misaligned with steel wool, that he had a "very specific story in mind" for security breach and it didnt pan out like he wanted

- he takes fault for it, saying he conveyed it in a bad way; "I was trying to tell steel wool to do specific things throughout the game, put specific items in specific places, have specific characters do certain things, meanwhile not TELLING them what the story plot was. Because in my head, I was thinking 'Okay, when people find this, they'll connect this to this to this & it will all be revealed, and I thought I could do that without telling steel wool the story plot. That didn't work out very well because they got all of these pieces, and they thought it was their job to connect them in a way that made sense. And so really what you ended up having were the same pieces telling completely different stories...I don't blame them for that, I blame myself for that, because what I should have done was gone 'hey, heres the story, the pieces are here, here's how theyre supposed to connect'."

- burntrap originally even supposed to move; just supposed to see something you saw in between machinery or in corners, that you werent supposed to know his purpose even though he used to have a very specific one (that the fandom doesnt know)

- he knows it didnt turn out like anyone wanted & thats why they made the RUIN dlc, he hopes it redeemed security breach

- he said hes learned from that mistake with security breach and things should be better in the future

- he cannot share any thoughts on the mimic

- he likes vanny a lot, shes one of his favorites and he thinks that shes underutilized and should get more spotlight in the future

THE BOOKS

- process is 'he has an idea, he proposes it to the writers, they flesh it out'

- he likes bunny call the most, and that it's not entirely made up; he took his family to a summer camp. 2 older kids 2 babies. one of the things you could sign up for was a 'panda call' . a very 'deceiving title', he says. early in the morning, a bunch of the camp counselors dressed as killer clowns would come into your cabin and scare the kids to wake them up early and drag them off to do their daily activities (?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????) and he knew this was the case, & before it happened he started to sort of feel bad that he signed up his two youngest kids for it so he crept outside in the dark and 'started listening for screams' early in the morning. 'somewhere in the dark in these trees theres clowns and theyre coming for my cabin'

- acknowledges the fazgoo is weird and bad.

- the 'creature on the cover of blackbird is my sleep paralysis demon' (quite literally)

- says his least favorite story is the guy getting pregnant with springtrap's baby and that he Doesnt Know What He Was Thinking, that he swears he 'wasnt trying to pick on matpat'

- he says theres potential for the books to be adapted into shorts goosebumps style, but hes afraid it might be 'too much' and oversaturate the franchise

THE MOVIE

- he says a big issue was that there was material thats difficult to translate to the big screen; the nuance of the antagonists being that the animatronics are possessed by the spirits of innocent children, and he wanted to preserve the innocence of the victims while also having the horror and the kills, and thats a big part of why several screenplays got scrapped; he was more picky/cautious about that than anything else

- says the victims are sort of like 'confused, scared animals backed into a corner, who believe that adults are out to get them' & thats part of why they kill people + the manipulation from william afton

- he likes the movie overall but thinks specific things could be improved and they aim to do that with the second movie, but doesn't want to dwell on those shortcomings too much

- hes perfectly happy with critics hating it but the fanbase loving it & that was his goal for it

- when the movie began showing in theatres he said: 'i told myself i wasnt gonna go online i wasnt gonna read any reviews i had already told everybody at blumhouse and i told my legal team DONT talk to me DONT call me DONT email me DONT send me charts DONT send me facts or figures i dont want hear ANYTHING', saw 1 negative review on accident then started reading all of them immediately before the 2nd showing even happened

- 'for a couple of hours there i was distraught, i thought it was a complete disaster' (based off the initial negative critic reviews, before learning how much the fans loved it)

SECOND MOVIE

- Not giving away many details, but following the same formula; 1st movie based on 1st game, 2nd movie based on 2nd game, etc

- Thinks people will like it, that the setup for the 1st movie was the hardest part but now that they have that launch pad to go off of and hes really fond of what they have planned

- Emma Tammi is also directing the second one

INTO THE PIT GAME

- was originally just supposed to be a short novelty game, but they made something really good and he encouraged them to keep going & its turned into a full-fledged game

- he says its going to be a very 'unique experience' and that everyone will like it a lot

- says working with megacat (studio for the game) has been 'weird but good', that theyll vanish for several months and return with a bunch of info

SPINOFFS, GENERAL FRANCHISE STUFF, FUTURE PLANS

- Would want to work on a game based off of Fetch and that he thinks it'd be really cool

- Says he feels like he's sort of lost touch with the fanbase as things have gotten bigger

- Wants to have a better structure for managing a twitter page, official news feed, etc., wants more management than just Himself because it'd better service the fanbase

- He says theres another game planned with steel wool (not the mimic game) way down the line that hasnt been announced yet

- Making more choose-your-adventure fnaf book stuff

- He's 'very careful' with collaborations because he wants to preserve the fact its fnaf and he doesnt want it to be distorted or tainted, & even if he really really likes a game he won't do a collab if the vibes are mismatched, but he's a little more open to things like that now (but we have FNAF X DBD now! yay)

THE BOX.

- (paraphrased) His process for a lot of the lore in games is that he'll come up with half of a mystery and then come up with an answer as things progress, that he feels something is there and he makes the path for that thing to be revealed

- 'but sometimes when things progress the roads that have been put in place arent the same roads that were there before'

- he had something planned for the box. the progression of the story did not allow for the reveal of whats in the box

- he never pursued whats in the box. and he will never know whats in the box.

[captainsophiestark]

I Made You Breakfast

Kai Parker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Kai's on his apology tour, and Y/N is his next stop after things didn't go too well with Damon or Bonnie

Word Count: 2,000

Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed to myself as I headed downstairs in my favorite pair of sweats, mentally making a list of everything I had to do today. It was an unfortunately long list, compounded by the latest supernatural drama, which my friends insisted on dragging me into. Bonnie had finally made it home from the prison world, thankfully, but that didn't mean any of the drama in our lives had gone away. In fact, it had almost doubled, with news of Damon's mother floating around in another prison world somewhere. I got halfway through an eyeroll at the memory of everything going on lately when I stopped dead in my tracks.

I could smell bacon, eggs, and toast wafting up towards me from the kitchen. Someone was here, in my house, cooking breakfast. And with everything going on lately, I knew for a fact it wasn't one of my friends.

I glanced around, grabbing a stake off the nearest end table. No vampire should have been able to get into my house unless they were a friend I'd already let in, but I'd had enough near-death experiences despite that fact that I was constantly prepared.

I crept towards the kitchen, trying to listen for any signs of trap or trouble. All I could hear was a faint clinking of plates. If someone had seriously broken into my house, why the hell were they just hanging out in my kitchen making breakfast?

I got my answer a second later when I burst through the door, going for the element of surprise, and found none other than Kai Parker standing before me.

"Oh, hey!" he said, jumping and spinning to face me with wide eyes. "You're up!"

"...Yup. And... you're here. In my kitchen. Making breakfast."

"Yeah! I hope you like it. Here, let me get your plate. I thought I'd have a few more minutes."

With that, he turned to the stove and starting scooping scrambled eggs and toast onto a plate. I just watched him, not moving an inch.

"Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

He turned back around to look at me again, his eyes wide and the plate half-finished in his hand. After a moment, his expression morphed into a sheepish grin. I just blinked at him, my expression unchanging.

"Well, after I merged with Luke, I started getting all these... feelings." He said the word like somebody else might say 'zits' or 'rash'. "And one of those has been guilt, for some of the stuff I put you through. Or I guess, your friends, mostly. I tried apologizing to Bonnie earlier, and... it didn't go well."

His expression darkened, and I frowned. But a moment later, the clouds apparently cleared, and Kai fixed me with a beaming smile again.

"So I thought I'd try again with you. In the Prison World, I saw Damon making Bonnie breakfast all the time, and she seemed to really like that. So I figured you might, too."

I just stared at him for a few long moments without saying anything. I turned my options over and over in my mind, trying to get my still half-asleep brain to make a rational choice. I probably should've been incredibly freaked out that Kai was here at all, but I'd actually had a few positive interactions with him even before the whole merge thing, and had kind of started to like him. Or, at least, started to think he had some ally potential, despite other things he did. We'd even bonded over music taste and his new fascination with social media, and he'd tried to help Sheriff Forbes, although it hadn't necessarily been out of the goodness of his heart. For some reason, I just couldn't muster the fear or anger I probably should've been feeling when I looked at him in my house. Finally, I sighed, my mind made up. No reason to try to force bad feelings when they wouldn't come on their own, right?

"Thanks, Kai," I said, actually meaning it as I moved over to the dining table. "Aside from the fact that you broke into my house to do it... that's actually pretty sweet."

He beamed at me, and I found myself returning his smile. He turned back around to finish making my plate, and I shook my head. This was absolutely ridiculous, but I couldn't say I minded very much.

"Here you go!" he said, setting the plate down in front of me with a big smile. He didn't move away, just standing off to the side and watching me expectantly. I picked up my fork, but didn't take my eyes off Kai.

"...Aren't you gonna join me?"

"Oh! Right. You know, I've been practicing how I was going to do this in my head all morning, and now that I'm actually doing it it's like I completely forgot everything I was planning to do. That's weird, right?"

I shrugged. "I mean, sounds like a normal part of being nervous to me."

He nodded emphatically as he returned to the table and sat across from me with a breakfast plate of his own.

"All these new... emotions from Luke have been, like, super weird. I don't know how you all deal with these all the time."

"Eh, yeah, they can be annoying sometimes. It gets easier with practice though, and I'd say on the whole they're a positive experience."

Kai nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite of his eggs as his gaze wandered around my kitchen. I took a few bites of my own food, and I had to admit, he was a surprisingly good cook.

"So..." I started. "Was this it for the apology? It's a great breakfast, but usually an apology has a little more attached..."

"Oh!" Kai's attention snapped back to me. "No no, this isn't it. I was planning to do the other part of the apology while we ate breakfast."

"Makes sense. Go for it."

He cleared his throat and shifted around in his seat, then met my eyes before hesitating again. I tried to look encouraging as I ate my eggs, and after a moment, he nodded to himself and continued.

"I'm sorry for trying to kill your friend, and testing out my power on her. And that I couldn't save your other friend's mom, even though I really couldn't do anything about that. I still... I still feel bad. And honestly, I'm mostly sorry for everything I've done that hurt you, even if it was indirectly. I... I actually really like you, and so, uh... I don't want you to hate me. I keep getting this stabbing pain in my chest when I think about it... or when I think about that time I saw you crying over Bonnie..."

He trailed off, staring at the table instead of me, apparently lost in thought. After a moment though, he shook his head and cleared his throat, looking back up to meet my stare again. His blue eyes were wider than usual, his eyebrows pulling together, and he looked to be in actual distress for maybe the first time I'd ever seen, at least when his life wasn't being threatened.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I promise not to do anything to hurt you again. Will you give me a second chance?"

The corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile, especially at the rare senserity in his tone. I knew my friends would have quite a few things to say about this decision, but I didn't let myself think about that. At least not right now.

I sighed. "Kai, despite the fact that you broke into my house, I'm going to believe you about this whole 'turning over new leaf' thing. I... I'd be lying if I said I didn't like you too. So, if you really mean what you're saying about not hurting me or the people I care about anymore?"

He nodded so fast I was actually a little worried about him.

"Completely serious. Cross my heart and hope to die. I'm ready to join the Mystic Falls Scooby Doo team for good."

I smiled, laughing a little and shaking my head.

"Well, okay then. I can't promise anybody else on the team will be quite as easy to convince as me, but... I forgive you, Kai. I'm happy to see you like this. And, by the way, you make some very good eggs and toast."

"Thanks. I had to get good at cooking, you know, alone in the Prison World." A shadow passed over his face again, until I reached across the table and lightly rested my hand on top of his. Then, his face lit up like the sun. "And thanks for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won't regret it."

I wasn't totally sure I believed that, but I decided not to say so. Instead, I smiled and gave his hand a little squeeze before pulling back.

After a moment of silence where I could see Kai vibrating with the desire to say whatever he was holding back, he finally blurted out the other thing he'd apparently been planning to ask me this morning.

"So... I might be a little rusty about how all this works, or if it's changed since the eighties, but... would you want to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?"

I smiled, then buried my face in my hands. My friends would kill me if I said yes to this, but despite myself, I really, really wanted to.

"What's wrong?" Kai asked. I shook my head and looked up at him again.

"Nothing, Kai, I just... ugh, my friends are really not going to like this."

He smiled. "Does that mean you're saying yes?"

I took a deep breath and let it out, then shrugged and matched his smile with one of my own.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it does. What the hell, right?"

"That's great! I was thinking we could go do karaoke? I've always loved karaoke. I got good at it when I was passing time in the Prison World."

"I have to warn you, I am very much not good at karaoke. But I'll still sing my heart out with you anyway, if you want to go!"

"Perfect! We can go tonight." I laughed, and Kai's expression immediately dropped. "Is that okay? Do you not want to go tonight?"

"No, Kai, I do. It's a little fast, honestly, but I don't mind. Why wait?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking. So... should I pick you up? Around seven? We could get dinner first, and then go."

"I think that sounds like a great plan, Kai," I smiled at him, which he immediately returned. A moment later, though, his hand shot up to clutch at his chest.

"Ugh, what is... what is happening to me? Why does my heart feel like it's about to explode?"

"That's probably excitement, Kai, or butterflies, which are like positive nerves. I'm feeling them too. It's because we're looking forward to going out together tonight."

Kai made a face. "This is what people were talking about when they said they got butterflies? This is terrible." I hid a laugh behind my hand, and Kai's eyes snapped up to mine. "Wait. You said you were feeling it too?"

I nodded, and Kai's expression immediately changed to a wide grin.

"So you're excited, too?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

He nodded, the smile staying on his face as he dug in to his eggs again, glancing at me between almost every bite. I just shook my head, a smile on my own face all the same. This was going to be an adventure, going on a date with Kai Parker, and I knew my friends were going to want to murder me for it. But I couldn't totally bring myself to care.

Despite some pretty rocky history, I had a weirdly good feeling about Kai, from the moment he'd started his apology speech this morning. And so far, I'd never been wrong when I trusted my gut for stuff like this, even when it led me into karaoke. I had a good feeling it was going to be right about Kai Parker, too.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[veryintricaterituals]

We need to talk about queer representation in What We Do In The Shadows

I'm just going to say it: for a show that claims to have great queer representation I sure haven't seen a gay couple in five seasons.

(The closest they've come is with Freddy and we all saw how that turned out)

Okay, I've been thinking about this for a while and I honestly don't love the discourse but fuck it. We need to talk about queer love and queer representation on wwdits and how it's not great.

Let me begin by saying that I love this show, I do, it's my favorite and I adore it and I am not going to stop watching it. But the internet holding it it as the be all, end all of queer representation needs to stop. We need to take off our heartshapped glasses for a second and think critically.

Now I'm not saying it's homophobic because it's clearly not, but a beacon of queer representation and love it is not.

Yes, it has its moments and when they come they are incredible (Guillermo's coming out episode my beloved). But if we stop and think about it for a second it becomes clear that same sex love in the show it's not treated with the same respect that straight love gets. And it's time to aknowledge that as a fandom.

It's 2023 and we don't need to be living off scraps or jokes made at our expense anymore. The times of Supernatural or Sherlock are done. But in wwdits we are, a lot of the time, the butt of the joke and not always in a good way. I'm begging you to think for a second about why the jokes are supposed to be funny, think of Laszlo and Nandor, or Laszlo and the Baron, or Nandor's guy wives... the joke IS that it's gay, there's nothing else.

And you know what? That could be FINE or it would be if they commited and treated gay love with a little bit of respect but they don't, not really. Show me queer love, stop just talking about it and SHOW it.

Or at the very least when you do show some semblance of it (looking at the season five finale, season three finale and a lot of other moments) don't immediately undermine it with articles about the power of friendship, it's the least you can do. We are just asking to be more than a joke.

It's like a reverse of what happened in Supernatural where after so many homophobic jokes it just turned kind of gay, it feels like after so many gay jokes with zero commitment behind them wwdits is starting to feel kind of hurtful.

I'm not saying they should have Nandor and Guillermo get together (though they should), I'm saying that after five seasons we should at the very least have seen a couple of the same sex treated with the same respect and love they've shown Laszlo and Nadja, Sean and Charmaine, or hell even Colin and Evie.

All I'm asking is for the show to make us more than just a joke or they're just going to end up circlying around and not looking great, and after five seasons it's starting to happen and I'm worried it's going to leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth by the end.

[foone]

One thing I think about a lot is that how omegaverse is a sort of meta-setting that can and has been applied to many different fandoms, right?

So there's "omegaverse supernatural" (because that's where it started) and "omegaverse star trek" and "omegaverse Frasier" and "omegaverse Batman" and "omegaverse US presidents".

You can basically easily apply it to any fandom with lots of men in it, which turns out to be most of them. (and you can apply it to the rare female-majority fandoms with a bit of extra work).

But the interesting thing to me is that omegaverse depends on characters having subgenders: alpha/beta/omega are effectively gender roles on top of the regular male/female ones, but they're ones not specified in the original fiction, right? (I mean, not usually).

So like, you can watch NewsRadio and it makes it pretty clear Dave is a man, but it never specifies if he's an alpha or omega, because why would it? Also, why is my go-to example of a random sitcom one from 1995?

Anyway. So you've got a bunch of characters with canonical genders (not that that has ever stopped fans from headcanoning them as different! Dave is a trans man, Lisa is a trans woman, and Bill? All Phil Hartman characters are closeted trans women, so jot that down), but you don't have canonical subgenders.

So fans have to decide which characters in a fiction are alphas and omegas and so on. They tend to be pretty consistent for most characters, actually.

But the part that interests me despite not really reading omegaverse stuff is just those headcanons.

Like, I can take a show I know well, like say Star Trek: The Next Generation, and find out what the fans think their subgenders are.

Like, I'm gonna guess that Riker and Worf are alphas. Picard could go either way. LaForge is an omega, Data is... An android, but he's had sex, so... I'm gonna guess alpha? O'Brien is an omega, but that's mostly going off DS9. Maybe he wasn't in TNG yet? Wesley I'm guessing gets headcanoned as omega.

And see, now I can go look at ao3 and see what other people think for these! And for some reason that's way more interesting to me than just reading any omegaverse fic.

I think we should do more of this sort of shit. I mean, I guess we kinda do for things like top/bottom, dom/sub, trans/cis, but I demand more subgenders! Subgenders that aren't depicted in the fiction but fans have to headcanon.

I kinda want to make a sort of wiki website which works by scraping ao3 tags and assigning alpha/beta/omega to characters from shows, basically a fan vote on how people headcanon the subgenders of these characters.

Anyway I checked and oh boy yeah everyone says Wesley is an omega. Apparently Zefram Cochrane is an omega too.

And the one fic I saw with Data in it made him an omega. Huh. Interesting.

I dunno. It's weird: I've got no interest in reading a fic where these characters fuck in their weird omegaverse ways, but I can't not be interested in knowing how fans headcanon them.

[jasmines-library]

Can you do a Winchester brothers (mostly Dean) x sister reader where she is captured but they tie her to an anchor and drown her and the boys have to save her and bring her back to life

Sounds of Someday

WHUMPTOBER DAY 24: Prompt: “I thought they were with you?”

Fandom: Supernatural.

Summary: the request pretty much says it all. When you and your brothers split up during an unusual hunt, you get caught and become part of a witch’s ritual, which ends with your life slipping away and your brothers struggling to reach you as you are dragged away.

Warnings: Drowning, blood, capturing, character death.

Word count: 2.3k

Note: thank you so much for requesting anon! This was really fun to write. I hope you don’t mind that I included it in my whumptober series, I thought it fit interestingly with todays prompt!

MAST ERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You and your brothers weren’t sure what you were hunting. There was no pattern- nothing set in stone to follow and every time you thought you had latched onto something in the lore, it would change unpredictably to something that contradicted what you’d just believed. At first, you thought it was a vampire. It had appeared out of nowhere, slinking in from the darkness. But then people started to go missing and the bodies were being discovered in strange ways: with nasty scratches, dark bruises or completely torn to shreds. Then, Sam led you on to believe it a spirit, looking to extract some sort of revenge. But you weren’t sure. Nothing was linear and it was making your head spin just thinking about it.

The town you were hunting in was quaint residence in the centre of Minnesota. It was surrounded by woodland and was fairly isolated from the rest of the world around it, making it the perfect stomping ground. It honestly surprised you that this place hadn’t cropped up before.

Your feet had begun to ache as you trudged slowly through the pine needles behind your brothers. You had a backpack slung over your shoulder which rattled as you hauled it higher up on your back. You had been walking for ages, training behind your older brothers who, given the fact they were much taller than you had managed to move at a much faster pace, having to take less steps due to their long strides. Sam had insisted that you stake out the woods in chance of finding something hidden nearby, but the area was vast and the three of you were yet to find anything in the hours of walking behind you. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon too, making it increasingly hard to gage your surroundings and keep your bearings.

“We should split up.” Sam said suddenly as you came to a fork in the path. It broke the silence that had gradually settled over you once you had run out of things to talk about.

Dean furrowed his brow. “What? Are you stupid, Sam?”

The tallest Winchester sighed deeply and slowed his pace to a stop. “We’re not going to find anything if we all huddle together. It’s getting dark and our best shot at finding something is if we split up.”

“That’s exactly my point, Sam. It’s getting dark and we don’t know what’s out there. Besides, there’s no way y/n is going out there on her own-“

“Y/n is old enough to go back to the motel alone-“

You scoffed, cutting him off with a stern look. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Y/n-“

“Dean.”

“You know we don’t like it when you go off alone-“

“I’m not a child, Dean. I can take care of myself.”

Your eldest brother let out a relenting sigh after shared an unspoken glance with Sam. The two of them had a habit of doing that. “Fine. But if you’re not back here within the hour then you’re in deep shit.”

You grinned, turning to head down the middle path.

“And y/n-“ Dean called out to you. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Keep your phone on.”

You nodded and made your way down the trail. Dean didn’t move for a while. Something nagged at him, so he stood as you wandered off into the trees, watching you with careful eyes. Little did he know that he wasn’t the only one watching you.

~

You had been walking for sometime. Too long. The woods had thickened and the darkness made it impossibly hard to tell the path ahead from the path you’d just taken. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were lost. And to make matters worse you hadn’t even found anything useful. You had considered messaging Dean for help; but that would involve admitting that you were wrong and you knew that if you did that you wouldn’t hear the end of it. You were reluctant, but when you reached into your pocket to pull out the device, you found that it was missing. You then considered turning back, you knew something was wrong and it was nearing an hour since you had left and were due to rendezvous with your brothers, so you would be able to reach them without worrying them…but that was when it caught your eye.

Dangling limply from a brunch, a piece of blood-splattered cloth hung. It was fresh, still dripping blood onto the muddy ground below it. It looked as though it had snagged on a branch. You reached out to collect it in between your fingers, turning it over slowly as your examined it. When you went to pocket it, there was a loud snap of a branch to your left.

Almost mechanically you had dropped the cloth and replaced it with the cool hilt of your pistol. You were on high alert, searching for the source of the sound. Then came other to your right. And then behind you.

You were surrounded.

You didn’t know where to direct your attention, whipping around to find your best course of action. But whoever or whatever was tailing you was smart and clearly outnumbered you.

Someone tackled you from the side, forcing you to the ground with a sickening thud. You screamed, startled. Delivering an upwards kick, you tried to throw the woman off of you, but her grip was firm as she rolled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head and straddling your waist. There was another pair of hands working a rope around your feet and other around your hands. You tried to squirm, kick and scream, but a harsh slap left you disorientated as a gag was forced around your mouth.

~

Sam came to a halt at the rendezvous point. He was a few minutes late and was met with an antsy looking Dean, who was pacing and constantly glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen. Sam could see the gun he had loosely planted in his jean pocket.

Dean turned at the sound of footsteps approaching, but he was in no way revived. In fact the sight made his chest constrict. Sam was alone.

“Where is she?” Dean demanded, crossing the space between him and his younger brother in two large strides.

Sam furrowed his brow. “I thought she was with you?”

“No.” Dean fumbled in his pocket to bring up your contact number. “She texted me. She said she had found you and that she was gonna…”

Dean trailed off when Sam flashed up his screen to reveal an identical message. They had been played.

“Son of a bitch.”

“You think she did this?” Sam asked. It wasn’t something entirely out of character for you. You would often trick your brothers into getting what you wanted, or simply just for some peace and quiet.

“I-“

All ideas were cut short at the sound of a shrill scream, that caused both brother’s hearts to falter. Your scream. They would recognise your voice in a crowd of a thousand. Neither of them wasted any time as they darted towards the sound.

~

You had managed to make out three of them as they began to drag you through the woods over bumps. The pine needles gathered in your hair and clung to your clothes to poke at your skin. You knew that your brothers would realise quickly that something was wrong. It was hardwired into them. But one of them was doing something with your phone which you could only assume she had managed to snatch from your pocket somewhere along your trek.

You could only watch as they dragged you into a clearing. You were grateful when the upturned roots morphed into grass. The lake glistened under the moonlight and the start sky. It was the type of serene scene that you and your brothers would pull up at and sit on the roof of the Impala just to revel in the quiet. The thought only made the situation seem even sicker. When the women hauled you onto a dock, you sensed two more people lingering nearby. One of them held a weighted book and the other a set of chains fastened to what looked like some sort of anchor.

Your eyes flew open when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. They were witches. And you were part of their spell. You tried to dig the heels of your boots into the wooden slats and scrabble away, but one of them landed a kick to your stomach and dragged you closer again, hauling you up onto your feet and holding you tightly in their grasp.

One raised your hand, biting into it with a silver dagger and then squeezing it into a chalice. You’re screamed and bit into the gag. Then they began to chant. Old, foreign words that rang throughout your ears. But nothing stayed. Your mind was too hazy as your blood dribbled out of the wound. After the final word had been spoken, one of the male witches snatched you away and pushed you towards the edge of the dock. The water was dark and endless below you and you tried to teeter away from the edge but you were in a vulnerable position and with one wicked smirk and another chorus of chanting, you were sent tumbling over the edge and into the water. But not before you hear the faintest whisper of your name carried across in the wind.

~

There’s something irresistably poetic about drowning. You weren’t sure if it was the way that time slows to nothing the moment your body it’s the icy water, or the way that it was so quiet under the surface, but there was something about it.

Well, that was until you watched the bubbles escape from your mouth and your nose, rising up to the surface and the dissipating. You tried to kick the binds way, flailing to gain some traction on the water and pull yourself up the the surface so that you could take a desperate gasp of air, but the binds rendered you powerless as the anchor dragged you down down down into inky nothingness. Your lungs burned as you struggled to retain what precious air you had left in your lungs, jerking and twisting to try and get free, but the struggling left you tired and soon the last of the air rose from your mouth. The water assaulted your eyes too, blurring your vision even through there wasn’t much to see besides the white light of the moon above.

Somewhere above your there was a loud splash as Dean delved deep into the water, scrambling after you. He had watched in horror as your body pummelled off the side. He didn’t think he could urge is legs to go any faster as he ran next to Sam who helped him make quick work of taking down the witches. Once the odds had been evened Dean took the plunge after you.

His body nearly went into shock against the stabbing of the cold, but he paid no mind to it as he watched your body sink at an alarming rate. Your hair drifted around you like a halo as he urged his body forwards to catch up with you.

Somehow he managed to wrap a calloused hand around yours. He pulled you to his chest, palling at your stillness, and fumbled to release you from the anchor. Once the heavy weight was gone, he gave one hard kick after pushing your body so that it could drift to the surface, following closely behind and ignoring the burn in his chest.

When his head broke the surface the took a huge, spluttering gulp of air, sucking it in greedily. But you didn’t move. You didn’t squirm to keep yourself afloat, your chest rise and fall, you didn’t even blink.

Dean was then paddling his way over you you, lifting your body so that Sam, who was clinging to the edge of the dock with an outstretched hand could pull you into land.

“Come on!” He urged, gripping you under the armpits and pulling you back onto try land. Dean was inches behind, silently praying that you would be okay. But your heart had stopped.

“No. No no no.” Dean cried at your stillness. “Come on y/n. You don’t get to do this to us.”

He hovered over you, locking his hands in place to begin CPR.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He pleaded, breathing into your mouth. He could feel the resistance in your lungs. His chest tightened further.

“Dean-“ Sam’s voice wavered as he laid a hand on his shoulders.

“No. Shut up Sammy.” He shook his head and blinked away the tears and he pressed harder against your chest, winching at the sound of them splintering beneath the force of his compressions. “She’s fine. She’s fine.”

“Dean…”

You sat up abruptly, heaving a wet cough as you keeled over expelled the water from your lungs. Dean patted your back to help. Everything hurt, your head, your joints, your lungs.

“That’s it, kid. Let it all out.”

“They… they-“ you tried to speak, but your voice was horse and scared so it came out more like a whimper. You took in deep breaths.

Dean cradled you to his chest, rocking you back and fourth in his arms as you sobbed, shivering from the cold and the shock.

“You’re okay, kid.” Sam tried to reassure you.

“We’re here y/n. We will always protect you, no matter what. And as long as you are here, we will always keep you safe. I promise.”

<- DAY 23 ⛤ DAY 25 ->

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Taglist:

@deans-spinster-witch

@senjoritanana

@amaryllis23

[scoupsahoy]

i wanna talk about The Ship War going on right now in the 911 fandom (largely on tiktok and twitter) and i'm not a bnf especially in this fandom (and i wouldn't want to be) but i'm kind of hoping people on both sides are willing to read this post anyway because i cannot be the only one completely turned off by it

i finished writing this so i wanna clarify: this is officially aimed at buddie shippers (i am one of you) because i genuinely want to have meaningful discussion and also i'm not exactly defending tommy here. but! i think if bucktommy shippers were interested in reading, there is stuff in here for you too

i have to split this up into sections which is annoying but i won't be able to make any sense without sections so. sorry

1. pre-tommy buddie shipping

so like a lot of people i knew about 911 and buddie entirely through tumblr osmosis, and there was a general attitude of confidence: buddie WILL become canon. if it doesn't... something something. i don't really know the season 6 finale was hard for a lot of you. and after watching, i do really understand why. but.

from an outside perspective, this fandom attitude was nothing like i'd ever really experienced before. i stopped watching supernatural around season 11, several years before gaycas, when confirmed bisexual dean was genuinely outside the realm of possibility.

i was a tjlc believer. i was an episode 4 conspiracist. i have been delusional about gays on my television screen before. so i was really apprehensive at the way buddie fans were moving. not only was buddie GOING to happen, but if it didn't it would be a failure of the network and the showrunners and the actors and it could have been the greatest love story ever told and shipping was not ENOUGH. it had to be canon in order to matter. shipping anything else was fruitless and offensive. this was what i was seeing. and i was like. well there's no way that's going to happen

and then season 7 started airing and there was this reignited hope

and then 7x4 aired.

2. the birth of bucktommy

so i started watching 911 after 7x4 aired. a lot of people did. i'll be honest i did genuinely think that eddie was out and gay and i was like "oh shit is it finally happening??" and then i realized it was some other guy and spend like 4 straight days tumblr deepdiving into it

like i said i was almost exclusively following buddie shippers so my consensus was like. buck and tommy are cute but it's obviously (TO ME) a steppingstone for buddie. after watching the entire show i do still feel that way.

here's the thing though: shipping isn't about what is going to be canon. i'm a marvel fan. my first fandom was fucking icarly, okay, my track record of shipping non-canon couples that actually end up together starts and ends with nbc sitcoms and even then barely. shipping to me is about character analysis and smooshing barbie dolls together with my friends. shipping to me is putting some guy in a blender and another guy performing frankenstein experiments on them

it doesn't matter to me actually that a ship isn't going to end up together, even if i like them. i'm not saying some bucktommy fans don't overstep certain boundaries (that i'll get into) but a FAIR BIT of them know this. a fair bit of them were buddie shippers and a fair bit of them still are. and there's a reason theyre put off

3. social media discourse

the first real piece of morality discourse came from tiktok. i won't namedrop this creator but if you're on tiktok you know who i'm talking about.

this person started the tiktok talking about something that i genuinely do agree with: fans who love tommy but hated all of buck's ex girlfriends should probably perform some self-reflection on the very real misogyny problem in 911 fandom and fandom in general. this i am 1000% behind. a call-in of sorts: hey guys! check yourselves! it is really easy to fall into misogyny especially with gay shipping. though i will argue that buddie shippers could stand to do the same thing (looking at you, people who write fanfic where ana flores is ableist for no reason)

they went on, however, to say that bucktommy shippers Must only like bucktommy because they are a gay ship, And Also Therefore, these people Must Be gay fetishists, as the only reason you would like bucktommy over buddie is because you just want to see men make out with each other. You People don't like gay shipping in the Correct way that i do, you like to gay ship in a nasty fetish way (only slightly exaggerating). you saw that buck and tommy kissed online and you watched the entire show just to watch men make out with each other which is Bad And Wrong.

aside from the fact that this person also literally started watching the show after 7x4 aired (and like i said so did a lot of people. one would think this is a morally neutral thing to do), this struck a nerve with me. this take (which was repeated ad nauseam by everyone in their circle) is just plainly irresponsible.

it is inappropriate to suggest that someone is like. morally reprehensible for *checking my notes* shipping a canon television couple. is tim minear a gay fetishist for writing the bucktommy kiss? is the average viewer a gay fetishist for going "oh i didn't see that coming! they seem like a nice couple"? is my mom a gay fetishist? are you calling my mom a gay fetishist??

this is an argument that i've seen happen in a billion different ways over the past decade and a half of being in fandom spaces by the way. are women allowed to read gay fanfiction? what about gay porn? what if they get off to it? are they allowed to write it themselves? what if they're not straight? what if they're not women? was casey mcquiston fetishizing gay men when they wrote red white and royal blue? is the romance genre allowed to exist with gay men and straight women in it? do you have to check everyone's gender or sexual identity at the login page for ao3 and tumblr dot com to determine if it is morally okay for them to participate in fandom at all?

and then there was the comparisons between bucktommy and buddie fic stat breakdowns: bucktommy's are writing more smut And That's Bad and buddie fans are writing stories with plot And That's Good.

it. is. irresponsible. it is oversimplifying. it is judgmental and above all else it is irrelevant. people could like bucktommy because they think they're hot or because they think theyre interesting or because buck realized he was bisexual or because they think tommy has potential as a character. it is a ship. creating a dichotomy where one ship is the morally good thing to ship and one ship is the morally bad thing to ship is irresponsible and not in the spirit of fandom.

morality and purity conversations in fandom are like. an entirely different can of worms to talk about and this is going to be long enough already. but bucktommy shippers shot back with the same energy:

if you don't like bucktommy then you are homophobic because tommy is gay

i did see quite a bit of this argument because a number of people that id been following did get into bucktommy and i do still follow and like these people

i covered most of my feelings about this type of argument above but to reiterate: it is possible to like different ships without making it a morality competition. it's disingenuous and annoying.

especially that brief stint where people were saying that the bucktommy shipname was a slur against gay men. you can just not like it. you can just not like it and have it end there. it's an ugly shipname but you don't have to make it a moral issue.

especially because then buddie shippers pulled out the trump card:

4. the tommy problem

because these people just watched the entire show in like four weeks (again, neutral statement, i did the same fucking thing) they remember tommy from hen and chimney begins. and. okay

i'm not about to be taken out of context here. i watched bp's video when it came out, i think what was said was wrong, i'm not about to say that being racist was like. cool or excusable 20 years ago. i think there is a discussion to be had here about this though. there's a reason i'm typing this out carefully:

i want to say firstly that there IS a conversation to be had about the social landscape in 2005 and especially pre-obama america for the purposes of a bunch of 20 years olds who were not alive or fully conscious yet. people told casually racist jokes (casual in that they are told casually without intent for violence, not that they are not violent. all racism is violence) and there were fewer social ramifications for those racist jokes in 2005. that does not make them Magically Not Racist. they were. it was not okay. it was, however, Extremely Common. does that make it okay? no.

i'm saying that largely because it seems to ME that tim or whoever wrote that particular episode wrote that joke to paint a picture of where the characters are in the story. chimney is not under bobby. he is not being treated with respect. he is 15 years in the past (from when the episode aired. whatever) it is different. it wasn't supposed to matter who said it

(it did matter and it does matter that it's tommy who said it by the way. because that's like. the universe of the show)

(though my theory - and i'm just being stupid for a sec indulge me it's 3am - is that tim and ryan both LOVE writing in guys named tommy. seriously i've been rewatching glee and when i watched 911 i noticed this too that there are so many characters that we never even meet named tommy. abby's ex for one. my theory is that tim wanted to bring in some guy named tommy for buck's awakening and he realized he already had one. lol.)

SECONDLY. sorry that was longwinded. secondly, i am a person who believes that people are capable of change. 20 years is a long time to grow. even as an adult. again, this does not excuse racism, but it is important anyway.

this is all theoretical but i want you to walk with me: it is possible for a 20-30 year old closeted gay white man with a homophobic captain pre-obama to pick up and not experience consequences for inappropriate comments and casual racism and even be seeking out a parent-like validation from someone who encourages it AND THEN, after 20 years wherein he realizes he's gay, comes out of the closet, i believe it is POSSIBLE for him to unpack his internalized racism, apologize, and grow as a person

obviously these are fictional characters but it is important to my fucking philosophy of life that people are capable of change and having empathy or understanding that in fictional characters is so fucking baseline.

it is important that we as a society can agree that someone's behavior, ideology, and/or biases can change. that like. that just HAS to be possible.

caveat #1 that does not mean that any people of color who are fans of the show have to like tommy or even forgive him (or even like. hen and chim lmao it's kind of clear to me that at least hen doesn't) and i am not going to tell them to

caveat #2 i also understand that there is no explicit acknowledgment of this on screen (i think this is because tim forgot which i find funny but like i said. it still matters that it's tommy regardless of intent) and because of that there technically is nothing To forgive

ALL OF THAT TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT.

even if we are assuming that tommy has learned nothing and has not changed at all. the leap from "tommy is/was racist" to "shipping bucktommy or finding tommy interesting Makes You Racist" is heinous to me.

sometimes people like characters who are shitty people. some of you like tony stark. sorry

it's ridiculous to me because there are plenty of other reasons to dislike bucktommy that doesn't like. vilify random people on the internet. he's not even framed as a particularly good boyfriend! we don't even know if they're boyfriends, for one thing!

i've been complaining about buddie shippers for this entire time but i literally am one of you and that's what pisses me off. you threw the first blow in the morality competition and you are bigger - and you KNOW you are bigger because you are proud of the fact - and you are winning.

you are right about a lot of it: tommy isn't a good guy. there is an active racism problem in this fandom. there is a misogyny problem in this fandom. but by and large buddie shippers have been in the game longer and have much larger followings and there is nasty shit i'm seeing which brings me to

5. social media discourse 2 electric boogaloo: twitter edition

twitter is a cesspool in the best of times but i have seen some shit in the past two weeks that makes me never want to write fanfiction for this fandom or even interact with most of the fans ever again. and i'm serious

there is a big buddie fanfic writer who is like. beloved. if you read buddie fanfiction you've read their work for sure. they started writing bucktommy and buddietommy fics around april. and people are being so nasty about them on twitter it is actually fucking embarrassing.

AND LIKE. god. fandom etiquette is so simple.

when i first started reading buddie fanfic the first thing i noticed was how many fics are locked. and i was like "i wonder why that is"

just look at these tweets. i have kept the author's handle here uncensored but please be normal do not bother this person. i'm sure their ao3 comments are hell enough already

what the fuck is your people's problem i'm serious

i'm like actually appalled. this is embarrassing. this isn't even the most embarrassing thing i've seen buddie stans do recently and it is NOT uncommon. it is not small accounts. you guys are the majority. these tweets have hundreds of likes.

i don't give a shit what this person was writing. i actually don't care. their fics are locked. they write for free.

to take someone's fic outside ao3 is considered bad fandom etiquette. to talk about an author where they don't have an account is generally considered bad fandom etiquette. to complain about fanfiction openly is bad fandom etiquette. i don't care if this is y'all's first fandom. in what world are you going to take to twitter and openly complain about someone writing fanfiction for a ship you don't like.

if i were them i would delete all of the buddie fics or never write buddie again i'm so serious. this is so ridiculous.

and this is sort of the nail in the coffin for me, seeing this tweet the other day:

this tweet has over a thousand likes

this is a larger fandom issue as of recent with the use of like. mental health terms as insults but it actually fucking disgusts me!

i looked at mark's twitter. it's pretty clear to me that he's a troll/having fun/provoking people on purpose but on TOP of that his tweets get at most 35 likes. i checked and this tweet got 21 likes. and over a thousand likes calling him schizophrenic. 24 replies doubling down. 25 retweets. 47 quote tweets. 62 bookmarks. over a thousand likes.

and buddie shippers are the good guys

it is ridiculous to me that as a fandom buddie shippers have created a space where it is impossible to have a meaningful discussion about fandom misogyny, racism, of homophobia because everyone who disagrees with you is morally opposed to you, and yet it is this side of the fandom with enough traction and support to openly bully and mock these people that you have decided are morally reprehensible.

6. in conclusion i'm sorry i know no one read this

fandom in general post-covid has become less of a community based in sharing creativity and the love of something (and i know this intimately as a kpop stan lol). online spaces in general have become something i don't recognize or want to participate in. which sucks. i've been here for a long time.

i know there's not really any way for that group of like 5 or so tiktokers that complain about tommy ad nauseam to see this or even take it seriously. i know there's not any way for those people on twitter to magically understand fandom etiquette or just block the people they don't want to see.

everyone would be happier if they just. blocked and moved on. i know i would. and i have! in a lot of cases. there's a reason i blocked out the names on those tweets (note: i blocked mark's twitter handle. the person who screenshotted it so he wouldn't be notified and then called them schizophrenic did not. because they do not care) because it's not about THEM it's about the whole fucking thing.

and a lot of these people want to be mad. it's why they're so hung up on tommy. like i'm sorry if any bucktommy fan is still reading this but GOD TOMMY HAS BEEN ON SCREEN FOR LIKE TEN MINUTES TOTAL IN THE ENTIRE SHOW. HE DOESN'T EVEN MATTER. JUST ADMIT THIS IS ABOUT A SHIP WAR. IT ISN'T ABOUT HOW GOOD OF A PERSON YOU ARE OR ANYONE IS. IT'S JUST A SHIP WAR. and they want to be miserable. they want to sit in their little echochamber of morally upright big name fans and they want to provoke bucktommy fans into saying something shitty and they love it because they don't really fucking care about the show.

you know how i know? because tommy is the least important part of chimney begins. that is in the best 3 episodes of this entire television show and none of y'all have anything to say about it. because you're just as obsessed with tommy as they are.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Hiya!

I've been having too many fandom thoughts in my mind (which is honestly not a good moment for, I have first exams next week lol) but I have been in a Bleach binge for the last two weeks, and also I've been watching the Mandela Catalogue (which, if you like analog horror, you should definitwly see it bc it is spectacular) and I have many hc for the series.

Basically, the videos include a type of supernatural beings called "Doppelgangers", which are able to imitate humans, invade their homes and kill them.

There are a couple of types of doppelgangers depending of how alike a human they are, but honestly I see them as eldritch shape-shifters.

One of the things I've noticed in a couple of videos and that I hc now is that they don't attack unless attacked first (but what they do... Well, it's pretty horrible), sooo... I mixed things and got a Plot Idea:

After the war with Aizen, Ichigo lost everything he was and everything he cared for, leaving him entirely on his own.

Everybody moved on without him, leaving him stranded in a turbulent storm he is starting to believe he can't survive without help. But nobody is left to lend him a guiding hand anymore. Without two thirds of his soul, he's slowly starting to wither; losing himself bit by bit one day, one betrayal at a time.

One night, Ichigo lay in his bed trying futilely to sleep and just managing a bare doze, house empty because his sisters are either in the Shoten or staying at a friends house and Goat-Face who-cares-where, he's all alone.

Except, when he opens his eyes, he's staring directly at a face.

His own face, in fact.

His apparent twin just stares at him, a weird grin a hair too big for his face, saying nothing.

Ichigo has heard about the doppelgangers before, of course he has, with every little town on alert because of the disturbing murders that are happening because of these monstrous creatures.

But he's just tired. He's just a human, and all strength he had left, his supposed friends and family had taken it away.

He doesn't want to fight. Not anymore.

He scoots over to the side of the bed, and mumbles something along the lines of "close the window, go to bed, wanna sleep".

The last thing he feels is the warmth of his room and breathing on the back of his neck.

Or where Ichigo is adopted by an Otherworldly shape-shifter, gives him a something to fill his void-like soul, making him a one of Them too, and when he learns how to change shape, the first form he takes becomes his default state: a shadow.

Because Ichigo has become a shell of his former being, a shadow of himself.

He finds no better irony.

(Sorry for the long ask! What do you think?)

Obviously this is super duper late but fuck i love this and i want to read it

[eetherealgoddess]

helloo, I just want to tell you I've been your fan since I downloaded tumblr. I can't, your fanfics are to die for. 😭 I'm sorry, I've been the one liking your stories from the start, I hope it doesn't bother you and I'm sorry if it does.

can I request a really really dark supernatural au smut bonten x fem reader? I can't explain how much I love your supernatural au fanfics😭

Although idk who you are specifically, I appreciate all your likes and the request so you don’t have to be sorry!! I embrace all feedback!! Unfortunately, I don’t think I made this dark enough, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

Y’all it’s wild cuz blood actually makes me queasy and uncomfortable. Especially gore and yet I write and read it even though I gotta pause to breathe from time to time lmao. This one is FULL of blood and gore. So be mindful!! ꨄꨄꨄ

ꨄBlood Thirstyꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Djinn Au

❦Your blood is enticing to Bonten❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

The male leads are Djinn, based off of the show Supernatural, though I’ve created my own version for the story. I’ve never watched the show but I searched up supernatural monsters and found Djinn.

In this story, they’re tattooed beings who drink blood and eat flesh. They trap their victims by luring them with their glowing eyes that cause a hypnotic trance. Their tattoos will glow the same color as their eyes. They can only be killed with a silver knife laced with an antidote created by Djinn slayers.

Djinn are not mine nor is this the original type of creature. There’s also another definition that has nothing to do with the show so you should research that if you want to find out because I don’t have enough info on that to be able to explain it.

Not fully proofread

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Blood Thirsty

You were quiet, hand covering your own mouth as your eyelids flutter closed. You lean your back against the shelf of books, hiding in an aisle of the abandoned library as you sit with your knees to your chest. You contain your vomit as you listen to the sounds of your friend's flesh ripping apart, the blood splattering against the floors as the putrid smell of death reaches your nose. Your other hand is placed against your pounding heart as your body tenses, hair sticking up as you prevent yourself from having an anxiety attack.

Earlier, you and your friends had gone to a local nightclub just to get out and have fun. Because the night club is owned by Djinn yakuza members, it was a sacrificial night, the full moon being the reason for this massacre. A ritual that was made into an agreement between humans and Djinn. Djinn can survive off of animal prey, which is what they eat until the night it’s time to feed. You had no idea the building was owned by not only a criminal organization but Djinn creatures at that. Not until one of your friends said, “Who knew Djinn could give us such a great time?”

Apparently your other three friends didn’t know either, eyebrows furrowing when they heard the news. It was already dangerous to be out late at night since that’s when they prowl on a full moon, but to also attend a Djinn club is just asking to be somebody’s meal. You smacked her shoulder and asked, “Why did you bring us here knowing that it’s feeding night?”

“They’re hot!” She responds, “If they’re gonna be active tonight then I know I can score at least one in exchange for my blood!” The creatures are known to be attractive, adding to the hype of the tattooed beings. Unfortunately, your friend is so boy crazy that she’ll put everyone at risk just for a chance with a murderous creature.

You all escaped and ran as fast as you could when all hell broke loose, ending in this dark dusty library, choosing your spots to hide in. You knew you couldn’t stay in the same spot for long. You knew you were going to have to move before they stopped feeding. The blood curdling screams of your friends begin to quiet down as you look over to the original friend who put you all in this predicament. She sat at the aisle across from you, eyes wide as well as her own hand covering her mouth as her body trembled. You both eyed each other in terror before you motioned for the door opposite of the sound. It was a few aisles down. You both have the potential to make it as they continue to eat.

You nod at her before standing on your feet, crouching as you peeked behind your aisle, instantly regretting it as you turned back away from the gruesome scene. Holding your stomach you ease your way to the other side of the aisle in front of you, hands trembling as you hold your breath once pausing, listening for any movement towards you. When all you heard was the usual ripping and bone cracking you turned to look at your friend who's following behind on her own side. You both move again and again until you finally make it out of the door, sprinting down the hall until you make it outside.

Your original plan was to keep running until you didn’t hear your friend behind you, turning around you noticed her standing in place, staring to the side.

“F/n! F/n! Come on!” You call out to her, confused as to why she stopped.

“But he’s so pretty.” She says breathlessly, her eyes beginning to glow purple.

You follow her sight, startled when you notice the shirtless man with a large tattoo on the left side of his torso, as well as a symbol on his neck. His purple mullet flowing in the wind as he stands across from her, eyes and tattoos glowing purple. Blood stained his mouth as well as his chest, his hands dripping with the substance as he licked some of the liquid off his fingers. You turn away as you grab her face, turning her to face you.

“Wake up! Wake up now! We’re gonna be killed!” You shake her face as her mouth hangs open, slobber dripping as you shift your gaze back to the male who stood still. You know you should leave her, but you can’t. You know it’s her fault, as well as yours for even being out in the first place on a night like this. Tears fall down your eyes as you contemplate whether or not to leave her to die. The only way she can be pulled out of the trance is by the Djinn releasing her or death.

You could be a savior and offer yourself up, but fear overtook your senses. You couldn’t possibly save her, so you decide to make a run for it while you still can, releasing her face. Before you could run, claws wrap around your wrist, yanking you back as you fall on the grass, bottom making contact with the ground as another tattooed being crouches over you. You noticed the yellow glow against the tiger symbol on his neck as well as the symbol that matches with the purple eyed Djinn on the right side of his chest.

His smile was as cold as his golden gaze, eyes refrained from glowing as he stared down at your fearful face. Blood covered his torso as well as his hands. You could see that his teeth were also stained with red as his smile widened.

“Where do ya think you’re going?”

You could only stare back at his face before you looked over to your friend, your hand reaching out in reflex as you called out to her when she walked over to the male. A hand on your chin forces you to turn your attention back to the brunette with blonde strands hanging over his face.

“Hey! Pay attention to me. I asked you a question.” He eyes you with an irritated gaze, causing you to yelp when he squeezes your chin tightly, claws poking your skin.

“Playing with your food, Kazu?” Another shirtless man walks toward the two of you from inside the building, fresh blood covering his mouth as well as his whole torso while the large tattoo on the right side of his body as well as the one on his neck glows purple.

He stops next to you both, sniffing the air as he eyes you and your friend with a lazy smile.

“Are you radiating that sweet scent, darling?”

“N-no! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You say as you pull back from the man’s grip.

The purple eyed man’s fingers met his chin. “Hm. Of course you don’t. You smell it?” He faces the crouching man.

“Yeah. That’s what brought me over here. Never smelled blood like that before.” The tiger symboled man pushes himself from the ground, standing over you as their intense gazes study you like you’re a new specimen.

Your eyebrows furrow as you notice their eyes becoming dim, faces turning red as they hold dazed looks on their faces.

“Man, your smell is intoxicating.” Kazutora breathes out, chest rising as he drags a large sniff of the air.

“Maybe we should preserve this one, yeah?” The short haired man suggests.

“You think boss’ll allow it?” Kazutora questions.

“Allow what?” A pink haired man entered the scene, walking until he reached the two men standing above you. His hair covered in blood as well as his face, hands, and chest, as if he rubbed himself against the liquid while feeding. You eye the blue glow of his wrist, the symbol matching the iciness of his piercing eyes. He sniffed the air, facing you as he observed your figure. Bending over, he grabs your arm, pulling you up on your feet and smelling the limb.

His face instantly warms, eyes dazed as he continues to sniff the sweet aroma, using a hand at the back of your neck to pull you closer as he nuzzles your neck. You put your hands on his chest as you pushed yourself away, his hand preventing you from moving as you struggled in his grasp.

“What is that?” He pulls back, turning to the others as he releases your neck only to keep a hold of your arm.

Kazutora shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

You hear the sound of flesh ripping along with a familiar scream of pain. Turning your head, you eye the gruesome sight. The man has your friend’s detached arm in his hand. A big gash is left where her arm used to be as her legs tremble, her eyes staying wide as they continue to glow purple. Blood drips from the wound as he bites into the flesh of the arm, more blood staining his mouth as he moans while satisfying his hunger.

Your hands shake as you eye the display in horror, tears streaming down your face as you watch your last friend become a beast’s meal. Instincts going haywire, you wanted to run away, but if you did, you knew you’d be easily captured by the Djinn considering their abilities. They have the upper hand against the human species. You’ve always wondered why they didn’t just take over. You could only stand there amongst the men, feeling helpless, weak, and vulnerable. It disgusted you to be so human in this predicament. You were going to die and you had no choice but to accept it.

“Awe, she’s crying. I think you’re hurting her arm, Sanzu.” Kazutora jokes, pointing at your tears. You ignored him as you turned your head away from your friend who’s shoulder just got bitten off, using both of your hands to cover your ears, the sound driving you crazy.

Sanzu releases you just in time for you to lean over and vomit. Bile burning your throat as you gag and dry heave.

“Disgusting.” Sanzu hissed as he walked towards the purple mullet. Kazutora leaned over with his hands on his knees.

“It’s amazing how you still smell sweet. There’s no way boss won’t take you home with us.” He beams.

“He does have a thing for sweet things.” Ran states with a cigar in his mouth, sparking it before shoving the lighter in his pants pocket.

A short man walks out of the building, the men immediately turning their attention to him. The atmosphere darkens almost as much as the voids you’d call his eyes. He gave you an icy glare, causing a rapid chill to run up your spine as well as sending alerts to your instincts. Your body tenses as he comes closer. You hear him sniffing, eyeing the blood on his mouth as well as on his chest, bloody claws by his sides. He stops in front of you, gazing into your soul as you shift in discomfort.

His gaze slightly softens as the familiar red hue forms on his face, panting softly as he drags more of your fumes through his nostrils. You eye the blood staining his platinum hair, the stench of flesh and blood surrounding you. His palm rests on the side of your neck for a moment before he uses a claw to nick the skin, slicing a small cut in between your neck and shoulder causing you to flinch. He leans in, warm breath grazing your neck before his tongue slithers against your wound. His sunken eyes widen as his hands grab your shoulders, pulling you in as you place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away before you yelp from the fangs piercing through your skin.

He gulps your blood down, moaning against you as you fall backwards. He lands on top of you, a hand sliding behind your neck while the other balances next to your head. Your hands grip his shoulders as your eyes shut tightly in pain. You hiss and whimper under him as the others, including Sanzu and Rin, watch as if they’re in their own trance. He finally pulls his teeth out of your neck before he grips the back of your neck tightly as he nuzzles against the wound. Your blood rubs along his face as he engulfs himself. He breathes your scent in deeply before pulling back.

He pants as he sits on top of you with intense eyes. You avoid eye contact by looking at your own blood covering the hand that felt the moisture from your neck. Your hand trembles as you look at the men who stood around you. He stands up and walks away from you. He flicks his head, motioning for them to grab you. When you see this, your fight or flight kicks in causing you to hop up and run. The only place you could go was the forest but if you stayed hidden there until the sun rose, they would have to let you go in order to not break the treaty.

“So she wants a chase?” Rin questions with a smirk as all the executives stand and watch you run.

“Bind her and bring her to the car when you’re done.” Mikey says before he hops into the car.

With a wide grin that shows their sharp stained teeth, the four men began to sprint after you, Ran dropping the cigar in the process.

You run as fast as you can, grunting and breathing hard as your heart pounds. Your chest tightens as the pain in your legs form fast from running at a speed you’ve never had to run. You hop off of mini hills as well as passing many trees. The only light allowing you to see in the moonlight shining through the leaves. You just had to find a hiding spot to survive the night. You wouldn’t have run into the forest if they weren’t blocking your way. You knew you couldn’t pass them.

You groan as the pain becomes almost unbearable, the tightening of your body making it harder to breathe. You knew you’d have to stop soon but your adrenaline is pumping and you refuse to let them catch you. At least not easily. You thank the heavens that you hadn’t worn heels, the platforms of your shoes smacking against the grassy terrain, attempting to not fall on loose twigs or branches. As you run, you also gaze around for any mud to prevent yourself from sliding on it.

You pant, mouth wide open as you peek behind you. Seeing nothing there you continue to run as you look for the perfect hiding place. If you were being honest with yourself, there’s a low chance of surviving without being caught. They probably know exactly where you are and just allow you to run because they like to play with their prey. You’re not dumb. You were just scared. You had to try. Before you could plant your feet into the ground, you run into a figure in front of you, slamming into them.

Your friend's blood stains your clothes, mixing in with your own as the man wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in as he leans over to smell your blood.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met.” A hand covers your mouth, blocking your scream. You’re forced to turn the other way, your back against his chest as he holds you in place. The other men stood in front of you in a curve, staring you down with glowing eyes.

“I don’t think I want to put her in a trance. I like it when they fight.”

“I want a taste. Mikey made you look so good.”

Suddenly, fingers connect with your chin, moving your head to the side as the person in front of you sniffs before leaning into the spot Mikey focused on.

A long tongue glides against your neck, the short haired man moaning softly before his teeth sinks in. You yelp in pain as another bite comes from behind, the man’s younger brother getting his own taste from the other side of your neck. The arm around your waist tightens you in place. You smack Ran’s shoulder as you try to push him away, tears rolling out of your eyes at the pain.

“You guys are hogging her all to yourself.” Kazutora states before snatching one of your arms. He bites into your forearm, eyes widening when the blood hits his taste buds, eagerly draining you. Sanzu does the same to the other arm, shutting his eyes as he drinks from you. You could only cry out in agony as they drain from you. Your body weakens as well as you becoming light headed. This goes on until you begin to see stars, your vision blurring. They pull away from you just in time before you faint, your body weak against the man behind you as you lean back.

Suddenly, your bottom met the ground as the man sitswith his back leaned against the tree. You begin to feel kisses littering all over your neck, lips hitting the blood that continues to ooze out.

“You taste so fucking good.” He whispers as he licks the liquid. Your eyelids are heavy as you sit barely awake. It feels like your black out drunk, going in and out of consciousness from whatever was spiked in it.

You look into the eyes in front of you, the person kneeling before you as two palms hold your cheeks, lips meeting yours as you’re forced to kiss the man. You couldn’t even flinch when he nipped your lip, blood drawing from you as you sat weakly.

“Let me go.” You whisper against his lips, not having enough strength to say much in a louder tone. He pulls back as he smirks.

“Go where? You can’t even walk.” Sanzu says as he crouches beside you, eyeing the wound on your neck and using his fingers to force you to turn towards him.

The red hue is still stuck on all of their faces, dazed eyes as if they’re intoxicated by your scent.

“I wonder what your thighs taste like.” The golden eyed man states before kneeling and pulling your leg open. He leans over and begins licking and sucking your thigh before sinking his teeth in. Another grunt leaves out of your mouth from the pain.

“I wonder how you taste down here.” A hand coming from behind slips into your pants as you try to wiggle out of his grip.

“Stop! Don’t touch me!” You cry out angrily. The hand dips into your panties, slowly rubbing up your slit before landing on your clit.

“I bet your cum is as sweet as your blood, huh?” The man behind you chuckles as he rolls his finger against your clit.

“I think we should find out.” His brother adds on, smiling as they nod at each other. Kazutora moves away from your thigh as he wipes his mouth, licking the blood he wiped from the back of his hand.

Rin pulls his hand out of your pants before reaching under your thighs and pulling them as far back as he could. Ran uses a claw to cut a slit from the zipper of your pants down to your ass. He tears a hole into the pants, stretching them to get a good view of your panties.

“No! Stop right now! Please!” Your head falls back on Rin’s shoulder weakly as you use your hands to cover yourself. Sanzu grabs them, securing your wrists above your head.

Ran leans over as he slices through the middle of your panties. He closes in and takes a big whiff of your vagina. Using two fingers, he gently spreads your lips apart with one hand while the thumb on his other hand pulls the hood of your clit back, revealing the bud.

“What a pretty pussy.” You twitch slightly as you feel a blow of air on your clit.

Your face warms up when you feel his lips grazing your clit, leaving a soft kiss on the bud. He does it once more and then again as he looks at you with intense eyes. You bite your lip, sucking your teeth as you turn away, only for Sanzu to use one hand to force you to look up at him. Leaning over with one hand still gripping your wrists, his lips meet yours. Rin keeps your legs pulled back, piercing his claws into your skin to draw some blood, watching as you flinch in pain, all the while Ran licks up your clit before he gives a few more kitten licks. Finally, he closes his mouth around the bud, sucking and flicking his tongue as he dives in.

Kazutora, who's still kneeling on the ground, licks up the blood dripping from your thighs. You whimper against Sanzu’s mouth.

“I think we should put the bind in between her breasts.” Rin says as you jolt from Ran’s tongue. Sanzu pulls back.

“We should put it on her face, that way everyone knows who she belongs to.”

Kazutora pulls back. “But she has such a pretty face, I don’t want to mark it.”

Ran continues to suck your clit as he lowers his head to lick some of your slick from the hole itself, his long tongue pushing inside as he uses a finger to rub your clit. He doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation, too obsessed with drinking your juices as your pussy contracts. Your head falls back with your eyes shut tight.

“Fine. Take her arms.” Kazutora grabs your arms as he stands up, Sanzu kneeling to tear the middle of your top open, revealing the lack of bra.

“Wow, you were already ready.” Kazu beams.

Sanzu sticks out a claw as his eyes glow, along with his tattoo. The beam reaches his hand as the claw meets with your skin, Rin holding you tighter as you scream in pain. The claw penetrates your skin as it drags into the shape of their Bonten symbol, blood dripping down as you struggle in his grip.

“Stop! Stop! It fucking hurts!” You cry out, your own nails digging into the skin of your palms. Kazutora forces you to turn to him with one hand, trapping your screams with an open mouthed kiss.

The contrast of pain between your chest and pleasure from your pussy shamefully causes you to near your orgasm as Ran tongue fucks you and rolls a finger around your bud. Your pussy drips with juice as your body convulses, just in time for the bind to complete as it glows a blue color that swirls into all of their signature colors before it resembles a normal tattoo. You yell out as you finally reach your limit, creaming on his face as he laps up the juice. Not long after, you finally pass out from all the overwhelming sensations.

[pendragonsclotpole]

I need to preface this post with the fact that I’ve been aware of Supernatural for as long as I’ve known what the terms fanfiction and fandom mean. It’s one of those pop culture moments that’s existed on the periphery of my mind as something really beloved and bemoaned about by people on the internet, but it’s never been something I really cared about outside of some iconic memes.

For the past four days, I’ve been watching Supernatural non-stop in my free time. I think I sat through eight episodes straight on one of those days, and I just have to say, the show is phenomenal.

I don’t know where to start, I could make a dozen of these posts about various points throughout the first two seasons and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’ve now taken a break at episode one of season three, because now that it’s a weekday I have work and can’t dedicate the time I could on the weekend.

First, Jared Padalecki’s acting is so beautiful and poignant and emotional. He really makes Sam Winchester into the bleeding heart of the whole show, and the entire time he’s on screen I worry about Sam. His portrayal of Sam’s heartbreak and desperation at Dean’s impending death after the car crash, as well as Sam’s horror at the reveal of what John told Dean before dying held a tragic desperation and denial that really embodied what the character represented in the first two seasons. Even as a hunter and with his special abilities, Sam felt like a quasi self-insert for the audience. I don’t mean that in a bad or overly tropey way, but in the way that he felt robbed of a proper childhood in favor of his father’s crusade. Sam is the angry, indignant younger sibling who never bore the brunt of responsibility like the older sibling did and it shows. In some ways, it makes him more entitled—I don’t mean that Sam does not have the right to be angry with John Winchester. He does. Fuck John Winchester. I mean entitled in the unintentional, coincidental way that your little brother or sister always demands the things you never had or rebels against the authority of the parent without ever dealing with the consequences you did as the older sibling. It reveals the veneer of freedom he had and the protection he received by virtue of his place in the Winchester Family. For me, it made him unbearably real, and this feeling of realness was made worse by the genuine naivety and innocence he keeps even as he continually gets screwed over by the demons. There’s a steadfast belief in the goodness of others within Sam that often conflicts with the sense of goodness he believes he lacks.

Sam trusts so easily, but he understands people in ways that should be antithetical to his upbringing. It took me forever to reconcile why he seemed so familiar, until I realized that Sam Winchester, for all that he was one of John Winchester’s son, had received the unconditional love of an older sibling for his entire childhood.

I don’t mean the perfect, kind, healthy love that often exists between fictional siblings. Too often I’ve watched media that makes me wonder how siblings like that even exist, or conversely, made me glad my siblings weren’t so fucked up.

I mean the kind of platonic love that exists between siblings living in the liminal space of love and hate thanks to the single fucked up connection that draws them back together continuously out of some sense of duty or commiseration or the need to be understood.

I mean the kind of love between siblings that would wither away when in a perfect world that does not stake their survival on their codependence of each other, but that in an imperfect and real world is equated to familiarity. Sam and Dean against the world—against John Winchester.

Out of all of the episodes I’ve watched in the last day and a half, perhaps the one that struck me most was episode 20, Season 2. What is and What Should Never Be. Not only was the title a bit of emotional whiplash—the juxtaposition of Should and Never lending a finality or a sense of wrongness that can’t be replicated by the words “Could Never—but we see Dean and Sam in a world where their one connection, hunting, has completely vanished and at a high cost to all the people they’ve saved, but mostly to Sam and Dean themselves. They’re connection as ride or die brothers is gone, replaced by an ostensibly better, healthier, more normal future liberated from the expectations of the rest of the world.

Without the death of Mary Winchester, Dean and Sam are no longer Dean and Sam. They’re just two people, connected by the two people that raised them, and likely to drift apart after that connection dies—frayed ends of a tapestry pulling apart and unraveling. Dean gains a mom and a normal life, but metaphorically loses a brother and a sense of purpose. Who is Dean Winchester if he’s not a hunter and Sam’s brother? And the sad thing is, neither of these are traits Dean ever chose. They are conditions foisted upon him, perhaps not intentionally, such as in the case of Sam, but ultimately placed on his soul until they tethered themselves to the very core of what being Dean Winchester is supposed to mean. The end of the episode, and Dean’s choice to return to the real world, regardless of Sam waking him up, is Dean fully giving up his dream in order to save Sam and be a hunter. The fallacy of the episode is in the choice Dean makes, which the more I think about it, feels less like a choice and more of an inevitability but one compounded by Dean’s readiness and willingness to go with it.

This is where I get to the crux of my surprise with these first early seasons of Supernatural: Dean Motherfucking Winchester.

I don’t know what I was expecting from early seasons of Supernatural, especially with the context of the later seasons. Maybe an overly cheesy, early 2000s ode to roadtrip Americana with a self-reverential take on the classic gun slinging frontiersman of the Wild West and bad supernatural CGI. Not to say it isn’t that (shout out to Sam’s comment on Dean’s particular brand of butch), but what surprised me was how real the connection between the characters was manifested on screen and how much good will the show built up in the audience. There came a point where I sided with Dean so much in the events of the show that I felt like I was riding shotgun in the impala. I saw it with every compliant “yes, sir” he gave to John, with every teasing comment he threw at Sam, and with every act of selflessness he exhibited by protecting other people. This isn’t to say that Dean is perfect. Sometimes he doesn’t take things seriously enough, or he’s willing to sacrifice people for some misguided greater good, or he’s obsessed with saving Sam even when he wouldn’t be if it were anyone else, but Dean has a conviction so many people lack. He has the capacity to love at a great cost to himself, either because he believes himself unworthy of being loved or because he’s not used to anything else.

Jensen Ackles does such a good job at this portrayal and with such a different technique than Jared Padalecki. Ackles embodies the desperate need for self-assuredness that Dean breathes, as well as the genuine fear he has of being seen. I love laughing with Dean as much as I love screaming at him for how stupid he’s being. If Sam is the self-insert, then Dean is the tragic hero, although that comparison feels like a poor facsimile for what Dean Winchester truly is because I don’t particularly feel an overwhelming sense of pity at his state or at his hinted downfall with that demon deal. If anything, I feel a sense of indignation mixed with understanding and frustration that Dean can’t catch a break but at the end of it all, is just how he prefers it.

It shouldn’t be a shock to admit that even without knowing what happens from seasons 3 to 15, I know how Supernatural ends. Just thinking about the ending makes me wonder if I should even continue it past season 5, but that’s a decision for another time.

For now, there’s something unbearably tragic in seeing Dean Winchester so close to a chance of a normal life and apple pie happiness (something he really seems to desire no matter how much he denies it) and then having to give it up, not just because it’s not real, but because he believes it should never be real.

Dean Winchester deserves better.

[wander-wren]

sometimes i wonder about what fandom is going to look like in 5 or 10 years. i think we might have already started to see a shift.

because, look, most of the oldest, biggest fandoms are from tv shows and movies, in particular ones that go on for years and scores of episodes. star trek, star wars, stargate (is everything star?), doctor who, supernatural…even sherlock really got its biggest popularity boosts in the modern day from tv adaptations. marvel and dc were comics first, too, but movies made them more accessible; their “cinematic universe” tags are the biggest on ao3 by far.

but what tv shows are we getting now? short, 8-episode things that get canceled two or three seasons in, that are usually less-than-faithful adaptations of other media anyway.

what movies are we getting? well, marvel turns more to slop every day, and everything else is remakes and sequels no one asked for. the general populace will still go see them and find some good movies that they like, but there’s not much really for fandom to grasp onto.

the best shows for fandom that we’ve had recently, that i can think of, are stranger things, game of thrones, and maybe our flag means death. stranger things is dying off, especially since they’re looking at a 3-4 YEAR gap between s4 and s5. game of thrones’s popularity plummeted after its final season, we all know that. our flag means death is still chugging fairly okay, but after that second season a lot of the fandom dropped it, and with it now being cancelled, i don’t see it sticking around.

yes, we can chalk part of this up to a new generation to of fans having this growing idea that fandom is super temporary, to be abandoned as soon as its not on trend. but media used to be on trend for a whole lot longer than it is now. seasons were longer, we had filler episodes, things were lower quality sometimes but at least they came out on a consistent schedule. i don’t mind if supernatural isn’t an artistic masterpiece, but if i was a stranger things fan waiting until 2026 for the final season, i would be annoyed if it wasn’t damn near perfect. that’s assuming i watched it at all—we’re all so used to not getting endings and moving on, so why would i bother?

i think there are two types of shows doing sort of okay about this. one is procedurals—9-1-1 is a popular one i’ve run into, and it started in 2018, around the beginning of the decline, but it’s managed 7 seasons in those six years, most of them with 18 episodes. the other is, honestly, anime—though we can and SHOULD talk about the terrible working conditions that make the fast turnarounds there possible. look at how big some anime fandoms are.

judging by the relative fandom popularity of other procedural dramas (grey’s anatomy, law & order, criminal minds), i think that’s going to remain sort of niche. fandom likes fantasy and scifi best, and they just don’t tend to have as strong of an overarching arc to dig into. at least, that’s why i wouldn’t watch them. i think there’s also a good chance these will start to die out in the coming years as well.

anime could also die out a little bit. better working conditions would necessitate less/slower content, and it’s true that most of the popular anime fandoms have been around for years, even decades.

so, what, no new, lasting tv show or movie fandoms anymore?

what will the biggest fandoms be in 5-10 years?

podcast fandoms have a shot. the magnus archives is still going strong, and i’ve been seeing a lot about dungeons and daddies. i think we’re kind of almost past the golden age for podcasts, but i am an outsider, so maybe that will change.

book fandoms seem like a kind of obvious choice, but they just don’t get as big without, you guessed it, a movie or show adaptation. and the downsizing has hit them, too—can you think of anything from the last 5 or 10 years that rivals harry potter, percy jackson, warriors, lord of the rings, hunger games, acotar…even game of thrones (asoiaf) again? i can’t. the collapse of the publishing industry is another post entirely.

2020 is really what cemented these changes, though they were starting in the late 2010s, at least. with actual industries shutting down, there was room for indie creators making things alone in their houses to pop up, and people had more time on their hands to try new things out and get into them.

the two things that have really been on the rise since 2020 is rpf and video game fic—often both combined. we’ve got genshin impact, call of duty, minecraft of course being huge, rpf of various youtubers, and k-pop rpf. now, i think rpf is contentious enough that it won’t really become the main fandom, but video game fic…might be it.

even video blogging rpf can often be a blurred enough line that people are more comfortable with it. and the thing is…youtube creators are actually more reliable than mainstream television these days. they need to be, to maintain their platforms. they need to not cancel series and to live up to their own hype as best they can and to not abandon the channel for 3 or 4 years at a time. and again, you can talk about burnout and unrealistic expectations and all of those things, but it’s still true.

maybe i’m completely wrong. maybe in 10 years the film and publishing industries will all sort themselves out and we’ll go back to the status quo. but i think this position fandom is finding itself in is interesting, and i wouldn’t necessarily be surprised if what’s most popular (both in the specific source material sense and the medium/genre sense) is different some time down the road.

[umbrellacam]

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊