#this keeps sounding dumber as I write about it

[silcoitus]

Hello! I think I'm doing this right but if not, I'm so sorry:

What do you think Silco would do if he found out, years later/during Act 2, that a fling he had when he was alot younger and dumber, resulted in him having a Son/Gender neutral child living in Piltover?

(how this is discovered can be completely up to you)

Would the angst of them being a Piltovian(?) citizen permanently leave their relationship undefined or would he push away his hatred of Piltover and try and meet them?

Better yet, how would Jinx react to this?

Just a bit of potential angst to spice things up I guess haha.

Thank you!

Thank you for this amazing prompt, anon! It's one of my favorite ones I've ever received! Why does writing angst soothe me? It doesn't make sense.

Summer's Ghost

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: Silco, original female character, original child character, angst, depression, reference to character death, character study

Word count: 2.7k

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny

Silco receives a curious letter from a Piltie boy claiming to be his son. Spurred by lingering bitterness and unresolved anger, Silco visits Topside for answers and to finally speak his mind to the woman who left him so many years ago.

Dear Mr. Silco,

I'm not exactly sure how even to begin this letter, so I’ll start with the part that is most relevant to you:

I am your son.

I know, I didn't believe it at first either. But if you keep reading, I can tell you how that happened.

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover. She was the top of her class and an artist. My grandparents tell me that, in her university days, she had a bit of a rebellious streak. She ran away from home to live in the Undercity. Over the course of a summer there, she met a man. And fell in love.

You probably know more about how the rest of this story goes than me.

After that summer, my mom had a change of heart. She returned home with a new bundle in tow: me. And while she never told me, I assume she left the Undercity in order to raise me here.

But you probably don’t care about all that. You just want to know why I’m writing to you. 

Well, first off: I'm not asking for money. My mom (and grandparents) provided for me and I have a comfortable life here in Piltover. 

I don't want anything from you. Not really. I wrote because… well… My mother died recently. It's actually how I found out about you. My birth was a closely guarded secret and it was only when I was cleaning her stuff out after her death that I learned. She had a box of things from her time with you: a diary, some photographs, a bracelet. I thought you might want them.

I don’t know what your relationship with my mother was like or how it ended, but this seemed like something she would want me to do. If I crossed a line, I’m sorry. 

I've attached her obituary. It has her final resting place. If you want to collect the box, I've left it on her grave. If you haven’t taken it by next week, I’ll assume you want nothing to do with it. And that’s okay, too.

Sincerely,

M.

P.S I also included a photo for proof. You can hold onto it. I already made myself a copy.

When finally Silco lifts his eyes from the letter, it's with slightly parted lips and inward curling eyebrows. Visions of memories long ago flick across his mind’s eye unbidden, released like water from a dam. 

Setting the letter down, he retrieves the other effects in the pneumatic tube. Fingers tremble as they pull out a small photograph. It's worn around the edges and the ink has faded significantly, but the image is unmistakable: it's him in his early twenties, standing next to the woman who left him.

He remembers that summer clearly, the memories vivid and the feelings so strong it could power a Hexgate. He remembers the late nights talking, the sound of her laugh, the way she was always sketching in her notebook. He remembers the first time they kissed, followed quickly by the first time they made love.

Silco’s lips press into a thin line, something bitter bubbling within him. 

He remembers his desperation when he ran through the Lanes, searching for her. He remembers how he couldn’t sleep for days, worried something had happened. That someone had taken her. Or worse. He remembers crying so hard that he could feel it in his teeth, his cheekbones feeling as if someone was pressing their thumbs to them with the aim of crushing them. He remembers drinking.

And drinking.

And drinking.

Drinking to cope.

Drinking to forget.

Drinking to wash down the bitter taste of the knowledge that he had let someone get so close to him so quickly, only for them to rip his heart out and slash it to pieces. And to add insult to injury—

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover.

He stares at that word again.

Piltover

Hand shaking violently, he picks up the pneumatic tube and hurls it across the room. It breaks on impact as it hits the office door, glass shards flying through the air.

Of course.

Who else could chew him up and spit him out? Who else but a Piltie? His home—his life—nothing more than a tourist attraction to her, a vacation away from her cushy, privileged life. 

How could he have been so blind?

How could he have been so stupid?

He can feel his heart rate rising, chest heaving as his breathing grows unsteady. Good eye fluttering closed, he puts one hand out, signaling himself to stop.

Slow down.

Breathe.

He takes one long inhale through his nose, holding it for a moment before blowing it out his mouth through pursed lips. When he opens his eyes, his jaw is set, decision made.

He snatches the letter, photo, and newspaper clipping off the desk, shoves them into his coat pocket, and walks out the door.

As far as final resting places go, this certainly is one of the more luxurious ones. Even in death, Topsiders can’t help but preen and self-aggrandize, if not with their bodies, their tombs. Each gravestone seems to be attempting to outdo the next, growing larger and more gaudy in size as Silco walks down the rows of graves. Subconsciously, his nostrils flare and his mouth twitches into a snarl.

When he finds her name among the dead, he’s surprised to see not a tombstone but rather a park bench. Constructed out of blue pearl granite and polished to a brilliant shine, her name, date of birth, and date of death are carved into the back. The soil around the bench looks freshly turned over and the carved letters barely have any dust or dirt accumulated in them. Studying the dates, it would seem M did not lie; she had died two weeks ago. 

And there—sitting on one end of the bench, waiting for him—is the box.

His chin lifts as his mismatched eyes scan his surroundings, looking over his shoulder, his ears alert and listening for any signs of other visitors. Certain no one is nearby or within eavesdropping distance, he turns his attention back to the bench.

He could just take the box and go. There’s no need for him to linger here. But as he stands staring at her name—carved with such finality into that unmoving stone—he can’t bring himself to leave.

And yet, it’s odd, addressing a bench. On his way over, he had envisioned himself spitting on a tombstone with great satisfaction. But now, as he’s faced with something as welcoming as a bench in a beautifully maintained cemetery, he feels stuck. Any anger that had been boiling in his abdomen before has simmered down, upended by the unexpected appearance of his former lover’s grave.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves the photograph. After propping it up on the bench, he addresses the woman who lies six feet underground. 

“You…” He can’t even bring himself to say her name, both hands balled into fists in his coat pockets. “You’ve been here this entire time.”

Both eyes roll as he realizes the error of his statement.

“Not here, but in Piltover.” He brings one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, good eye squeezed shut. “I searched for you for weeks. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I thought someone had taken you. I thought you had—”

Died.

Well.

It’s accurate now, isn’t it?

“Typical Topsider,” he spits out, one hand gesturing as if throwing something away, like the way she had thrown him away, “You come to my home, promising a bright and brilliant future, but all you do is leave destruction in your wake.”

He steps back, pulls his head back, and spits onto the freshly dug soil.

“Disgusting,” he snarls. “And to think, I had lov—”

He pauses, unable to finish the word.

He was young. He was ignorant. That was not love he felt for her. Nor adoration. That was infatuation; merely a young man’s naive idea of what love was.

What that was—it was Not Love.

Silco pulls his fingers through his hair, collecting himself.

“Why?” His hand curls into a fist again. His tone is bitter, full of anger, growing in volume. “I don’t care why you left; I know exactly why you left.” 

As he continues to speak, his concerns about being overheard are overcome by the thundering emotions swelling inside him, churning and bubbling after years of dormancy. “You didn’t want your son to grow up to be a street urchin like his sumprat father. No… all I want to know is…”

His next words are bellowed out, the sound coming from deep within his lungs, each word punctuated with a pregnant pause, as if he means to put his entire body into every syllable.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?”

There’s a flurry of wings as nearby birds take flight, spooked by the sudden noise. 

Silco’s good eye flutters closed again and he takes long, deep breaths, recentering himself. His hand comes up, forefinger pressing to his sternum. There’s a desperation to his voice now, a yearning. Mourning something he didn’t even know he had until a few hours ago.

“I had a right to know.” He opens his good eye, staring at the photograph. Staring at her. “He is my son. He is my blood. How could you have kept him from me for so many years?”

He gathers himself, eyes casting to the ground. 

He had so much more he wanted to say. Years of anguish, torment. But now that he’s here, he’s forgotten them all.

He feels empty.

Finally, he slumps down on the bench, next to the box. It remains untouched beside him. He sits with his shoulders sagging forward, both elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as his head hangs low. 

It’s quiet in the cemetery.

He turns his face toward the photograph, addressing the woman in it with a whisper of a voice. “All I wanted was for you to be okay. For you to live a good life.”  He lifts his head toward the great, open sky of the City of Progress, free from smoke and fissure gasses and ash. “And I suppose I got what I wanted.”

He hangs his head once more, speaking to the ground at his feet.

“You just did it without me.”

A stiff breeze blows through, tugging at his coat. He makes no move to bundle himself up further, letting the chill air surround him, seeping into his bones.

He sits.

And remembers.

After a few moments, he hears movement. Ears prickling and head whipping up, he spots a boy walking between some nearby tombstones. He looks to be a teenager, fifteen—maybe sixteen—years of age. The boy pauses at one of the graves, looking at it silently, his hands shoved into his pockets. After a moment, his eyes lift and meet Silco’s.

Silco meets his gaze, unblinking. The boy doesn’t seem at all fazed by Silco’s corrupted eye, giving him a small, polite nod. Silco nods in return before tearing his eyes away.

Ocean green and volcanic orange eyes pause on the small wooden box on the bench. 

Mahogany. Expertly crafted. Like the bench, it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Unbidden, Silco’s throat bobs as he reaches for the box and gingerly places it on his lap.

After taking a deep breath, he lifts the lid.

The first thing he sees is a bracelet. Black in color and made of thin strips of leather with small circular charms along the strings, it’s plain and modest. The surface of the leather looks almost brittle, worn around its edges from frequent use.

Underneath, there’s a stack of photos. Lifting them, he recognizes the first as one he had taken. The late woman stands laughing beside The Last Drop’s jukebox, Felicia grinning widely next to her. Vander can be seen in the corner, caught mid-sentence as he speaks with whom Silco can only assume is Benzo. Setting down that photo, Silco’s eyebrows lift when he sees the next one.

He doesn’t remember this photo being taken at all, which is curious given the fact he’s the one and only subject of the photo. Silco—sporting long hair tied back in a low bun—sits at the bar, pouring over his notebook. His right arm is wrapped in strips of off-white fabric and in his hand is a pencil, which hovers over the page, posed to write. 

Silco remembers this night.

It was the night Felicia told him and Vander she was pregnant with Violet. It was the night everything changed.

Funny, how the night he learns of one pregnancy happens to also be the night his lover leaves him because of hers.

He hums, continuing to study the photograph.

He had forgotten what he looked like at that age, so used to seeing his marred reflection in the mirror. So used to covering half of his face with foundation just to regain some semblance of normalcy.

Silco’s about to look through the rest of the box when he sees movement out of his periphery. Quickly, he shuts the box and looks up to see the boy from before, standing in front of him.

“Sorry,” he says, voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” Silco replies simply. His good eyebrow lifts in silent question.

“Is it okay if…” The boy gestures to the empty spot on the bench. 

Silco stands, hand offering the seat, the box neatly tucked under his arm.

“Oh, you didn’t have to leave,” the boy says, scooting over to leave some room. “I just wanted to sit for a little bit.”

Silco eyes him for a moment, then, against his better judgement, sits back down. The mahogany box feels heavy in his lap. The boy’s eyes look at it briefly before looking out into the rest of the cemetery.

The pair sit in silence, the only sound the rustle of the leaves as the wind rushes through the nearby trees. Silco’s hand covers the box, fingers idly smoothing over the carving of a rose on the lid.

He doesn’t know why he does it, compelled by a nagging curiosity, but Silco breaks the silence.

“Do you have family here?”

The boy nods. “My grandpa.”

Silco hums.

Silence falls between them again.

“Do you?” the boy asks, eyes lifting to meet Silco’s.

Silco’s lips press together, the tip of his chipped tooth catching the inside of his mouth a little.

“In a sense.”

The boy sighs. “At least it’s a pretty nice view.”

Silco follows his gaze.

“It is.”

“Well, except for that.” 

The boy points to a large tombstone made of porcelain with gold accents all along its edges. Every inch of it seems to be covered in some sort of design, painted in blue. But the patterns come across as less elegant and more like visual noise; the eye given nowhere to rest, the senses overwhelmed by all the complicated shapes and textures.

Laughing, the boy makes a retching noise. “It’s so ugly.”

Silco’s lips pull into a smirk, head tilting.

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Yup.”

The boy abruptly gets to his feet, seemingly satisfied. Turning to Silco, he puts his hand out in offering.

“I’m Marlow, by the way.”

“Marlow.” Silco takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The boy nods, seemingly out of words. After offering a small smile, he turns on his heel, heading for the gates.

Silco continues to sit on the bench, thumb rubbing absentmindedly on the box’s carvings. After a moment, his eyes widen and he reaches into his coat pocket for the letter, eyes darting down to the bottom.

M.

He looks up to find the boy has disappeared. He lets a short chuckle out of his nose as he shakes his head, rising to his feet.

After one final look at his ex-lover’s grave, he starts his trek back home.

He has a feeling this won’t be the last time he visits this cemetery.

And it won’t be the last he’s seen of that boy.

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[peppermintquartz]

stuck in an elevator

Someone with a sick sense of humor must be writing my life, because a benevolent God sure as hell would never plan this, Tommy thinks in his bitchiest mental tone. Then he snorts. As if anyone would be interested enough to write a single paragraph about him.

The other occupant of the elevator pointedly does not look at him. Evan Buck keeps his tone so neutral, it's almost robotic. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I mean, of all the places in Los Angeles to visit on a day off, we end up at LACMA together. And now we're stuck in the same elevator. What are the odds?" The ludicrously serendipitous nature of this encounter is keeping Tommy from other, less-pleasant thoughts, namely being trapped in a space without a view of the outside world. His pulse is starting to race.

They tried calling 911, but the signal in the elevator was poor. Thankfully the emergency intercom did connect to the museum's operations office, who has contacted emergency services.

"I should've taken the stairs," Tommy grumbles. His skin itches with the need to feel fresh air.

"With that boot on your ankle? Then you're dumber than I thought you were." Evan Buck finally glances over, his blue eyes scanning him from head to toe. "How did you injure yourself anyway?"

"Tripped when I was getting out of the bird," Tommy replies honestly.

Evan Buck scoffs and shakes his head, but his expression softens. "You doing okay otherwise?"

There are so many ways Tommy can answer. He can pretend he is perfectly okay. Somewhat okay. He can claim that he misses Evan Buck, but he wants to be friends, just friends. He can be flippant. Make it funny, keep things superficial.

But this is Evan asking him.

"I miss you like a heartbeat" is what comes out instead. And it's true - Tommy feels like an automaton, moving through time, his routines carrying him along from dawn till dusk.

Entire days going by without a single text from Evan Buck feel empty and pointless. The bedsheets need to be laundered but Tommy doesn't want to lose the final traces of the last time they slept in the same bed. There are books Evan Buck brought over to read when Tommy wants to watch a movie.

And now they are stuck together, in an enclosed metal box, and Tommy is trying not to think about that while also trying not to think about how much he wants to kiss Evan. So he vacillates between a bone-deep phobia and a bone-deep yearning.

"I'm sorry. That was too heavy to lay on you like that." His fingers are clammy where his palms are on the mirrored wall. Licking his lips, he says, "But I don't want to lie to you. Not about anything. But I'm good otherwise, Evan."

"I'm not." Evan inhales deeply and blows out his breath. "I'm... I'm baking every time I think about texting you or calling you. The loft smells like a goddamn bakery. And still, still I can't forget the way you smell, the way you sound, the way you fucking taste. I want - I want so badly - to turn back time, figure out what I said wrong that made you run from me. Maybe I wanna be mad at you. I don't know. But I'm not good, Tommy. I'm not gonna be good for a long time."

"I'm sorry," Tommy begins, but Evan cuts him off.

"I don't want you to be sorry," he snaps, and to Tommy's shame, his eyes well up with tears. "I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want... I want us, together. That's what I want. I don't wanna be good, I don't want you to be sorry, I want us to be happy together, that's all I fucking want!"

The silence that falls between them is thick as concrete.

His hands and feet are cold now, and he thinks he is a little dizzy. Gulping down a breath, Tommy says, "I shouldn't have run. It was... I was afraid. That... that you'd see me and everything I'm not."

This is when Evan sighs and turns to face him. "I should've chased after you. I was afraid too. I moved too fast, I know now. But you running away and ghosting me after was a dick move."

"I guess we both have a lot to work through." Tommy manages a tight smile. He is starting to feel lightheaded, and his breathing is picking up pace despite his best efforts to stay calm and distract himself with Evan's presence. His hands are clammy and he tries to wipe them dry on his jeans. "Evan?"

"Tommy?"

"How long before 911 arrives?" Tommy's mouth is dry. His vision sparks and he is valiantly trying to hold on to his composure, but he feels like he's boiling in his dark blue henley; he needs air, he needs the sky, he needs space to flee-

"Tommy!" Evan is right next to him, keeping him from collapsing and hurting himself. His touch grounds Tommy in the present moment, and his face this close blocks out the sight of the metal coffin they are stuck in. "They'll be here soon, okay? It's all good, they'll be here soon. Breathe for me, come on, inhale , two, three, four; hold, two. three, four..."

Evan talks him through the breathing exercises, holding him up and against himself, all the way even after the elevator lurches back to life and delivers them to the next floor safely.

After he's helped out of the elevator, Tommy wretches and vomits all over the floor, some of the sick getting on Evan's nice shoes.

"Sorry," says Tommy, eyes tearing from the force of the nausea, his big frame trembling.

"They're just shoes," says Evan, soothing a hand along his spine. To the attending paramedic, he says, "He has mild claustrophobia. Not usually a problem, but we were in there a while."

Tommy follows the paramedic - Jefferson - to a bench, accepting a quick look-over. To his surprise, Evan stays with him. Jefferson doesn't see anything wrong other than shock and leaves them with a blanket when another call comes in, about some old man and a broken hip.

Tommy finally recovers after about twenty minutes. He smiles wryly at Evan. "Sorry. You don't have to stick around, there's a lot to see in LACMA."

"Tough luck chasing me off," says Evan. There's a determined set to his jaw.

"Evan, I mean, Buck, surely you have other places to go."

"First of all, I hate hearing you call me Buck. Second of all, I'm not going anywhere. I know exactly what I want, and I'm pretty sure I know what you want."

"Yeah? What do I want?"

"To be my forever," says Evan. He looks Tommy in the eye. "And I know enough about myself and relationships, a-and love, to say that I want you to be my forever too. So. Hah. I'm sticking around. Sucks to be you."

Tommy huffs out an amused and exasperated breath. "Still a brat."

"Yeah? Well, you can either put up with me, or you can do something about it." But there's no hiding the curl of his lips.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

screaming crying sobbing please give us more of tennis!au zoro, need to see him being a cocky little shit but also groveling to properly get back with reader (good luck buddy).

absolutely loved your writing for that idea and can’t wait to see your other au’s, esp if they’re this creative and not the “obvious” ones (i.e. didn’t see zoro as a tennis player but now i do).

keep up the amazing writing 💋💋

aaaAAAAH THE WAY I WAS WAITING FOR ANYONE TO REQUEST A PART TWO DESPERATELY 😚 AND TYSM POOKIE FOR BEING SO KIND AND SAYING SUCH NICE STUFF ABOUT ME. I HAD A ROUGH DAY 😭😭. ILYSM HOPE YOU GET A HUG FROM SOMEBODY YOU LOVE SOON!

bitchimasnake-sss presents: the one piece AUs

02. what kind of a pr stunt is this?! ft. roronoa zoro

set-up: part 02 to my badminton player!zoro au lol. you can find that here! (i recommend you read that first!) exes are exes for a reason. right? right. then why were you pretending to be in love with the same man that broke your heart five years ago? what kind of publicity stunt is this? and more importantly, is it worth your sanity? warnings: dumb people, even dumber plot by me! NOT PROOFREAD SO IM SORRY FOR TYPOS. includes heavy angst towards the end, fake dating shenanigans. zoro is a pain. and smut (hehe u nasty). nsfw thoughts include cuddle fucking (wow, my demons made me write it), penetration, teasing, dirty talk, a little bit of bimbofication. GIRL NEVER LET A MAN RUIN YOUR CAREER!! wc: 9.6k m.list

26th of august, 9:53 p.m.

"i do not fucking get it." your gaze followed the movements of the shuttle as it moved from the blue-haired girl to your coach, nico robin.

"well," the voice through the speaker was eerily calm for the man that was uttering them, "that's the thing, you don't have to get it. i talked to nami-swan~" and you could practically hear the drool and the heart-eyes in your manager's voice.

"nami-swan?" you leaned back, your back hitting the blue seat in the audience.

the practice court was empty, only haunted by the sounds of air being sliced and shuttles being compromised one after the other for the sake of the game. only three people remained: you, vivi — your partner in the upcoming women's doubles — and coach robin, the former number one in female category. you stared at the court, eyes still following the movements of the shuttle, the phone in your hand and the contact vinsmoke sanji on speaker.

vivi heaved out a trembling breath before hitting a particularly hard stroke, and your eyes widened, awestruck, as coach robin easily defended the oncoming strike. sometimes, you wondered, if your coach had the power to summon more hands.

your practice session was over, and you sat, catching your breath as the man broke you out of your daze, "oh, don't be jealous! you are ever more radiant, more gorgeous—"

"—get to the point, sanji."

"ofcourse." he cooed, "see, you hate roronoa zoro, correct?"

your breath hitched, but you nodded nonetheless, "correct."

"you do not wish to see him again, correct?"

"correct."

"and from what i gather, he isn't fond of you, either. right?"

ouch. "yeah."

"perfect! so this is the most brilliant plan! you just have to pretend to be with him just for a few months—"

"—months, sanji?" your eyes widened, as you subconsciously sat up straight at the idea of having to endure that moss-headed bastard for several months.

"oh, it's not as bad as it sounds!" he tried to defend, "just think about the end goal. after pretending for a few months, you both "break up", and then you have to literally never think about him or see him ever again. how wonderful, isn't it?" his voice swooned, "nami-swan is pretty smart~"

and you slumped backwards at the explanation. months of torture? would it even be worth it? probably not. you rubbed your temple, trying to fend off a budding headache, "we're sportsmen. we are supposed to focus on sports, what the fuck is up with this pr stunt?"

"you and him are sportsmen, correct." you could hear him take a drag of his cigarette, "but me and nami-swan are your managers. you both are at the peak of your respective careers, and sports is a fickle thing, my love. you know that."

"i do but—"

"darling, your job is to play. mine is to ensure that the next brand ambassador for nike is you."

you sighed, hell-bent on finding flaws in the situation, "and dating roronoa does that for me?"

"not exactly," he blew out the smoke, "but once you are through with him, imagine the amount of sympathy you gain? there'd be fan-edits of you on tiktok and comment section full of go girlboss! he doesn't deserve you~" he paused, letting you get used to the opportunity, "we use that, we built you up as an even bigger brand. you. the kind of girl that battled heartache in the spotlight."

you could hear the smile in his cashmere words, "and won."

this situation seemed too good. how would all of that fall in your favour? god is never that kind. never to you, atleast.

"and what does roronoa gain from this? did nami-swan tell you anything about that?" you stood up, waving goodbye to robin and vivi and picking up your duffel bag. as you walked through the hallway, your voice echoed and came to you, "sure as fuck, he's not walking away from this situation without winning something himself, right?"

"who knows?" sanji laughed, "that's upto that moss-head and that ever-radiant goddess—" sanji cleared his throat, "uh— for nami-swan to figure out. not you. i'm focused on you, love."

you sighed as you pushed the glass door to the practice complex open. stepping out, the night air felt cool against your sweat-covered neck and back. as you walked to your car, you caught sight of a certain man. why.

"he's here." you spoke into the phone, a slight panic building up in your bones as you deliberately slowed down, "why is he here?"

"roronoa?" sanji asked, and a certain twinge in his voice made your stomach coil inwards, "good luck, love."

"wait sanj—" beep. he cut the call. that bastard. men cannot be trusted, after all.

"hey there." his voice was akin to nails on chalkboard.

why. why was roronoa zoro here?! standing outside your practice court, in front of your car, pretending to be your boyfriend. with a relaxed grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands, at that too!

you gaze danced around, trying to spot paparazzi in your peripheral vision as you walked up to your car. but the parking seemed empty, and part of you wondered if roronoa zoro just enjoyed annoying the shit out of you. possibly.

as you reached him, the man wrapped his free arm around you, his voice next to your ear, "there's paps here, just play along."

you pulled back, your features twisted into a frown, "i cannot see anyone."

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you recoiled back instinctively, muttering out a feeble, "'m sweaty, don't do that."

"i've seen you worse."

the fuck does that mean? he wants to throw hands in this parking lot, huh? is that it? you can take him, though. ofc.

but before you could battle it out, he craned his neck, trying to scan for the paps that he was so sure were around. his eyes fixated on a certain car, and he slowly nodded in that direction, "found 'em. see."

you turned back slowly, only to find out two guys — some twenty years or so — with a camera out, pretending to be nonchalant. as if being out on a random sports complex at ten in the night was normal behaviour.

your mouth went sour, but you dragged your gaze up at zoro anyways. being under observation, your fingers reached for his and you interlocked them. your words though? just plain cruel. "fine." you huffed out, "get in the car, roronoa."

"of course," he shoved the bouquet towards you, "for you, by the way."

you grabbed the bunch of flowers recklessly, having no regard for them, "nami-swan gave them to you?"

"swan?" his eyebrows furrowed as you walked to the drivers side, "nami, yes. swan, no."

you unlocked the car, throwing the duffel to the backseat and getting in. zoro followed suit, getting in the passenger seat. you turned on the engine wordlessly and within a few minutes you were driving the car out of the parking complex.

"do you—"

"no." you pressed the touchscreen, trying to put on your playlist to avoid talking to him, "we don't need to talk. just sit."

he leaned back into the passengers seat, huffing out a soft, "'was jus' asking if you ate or not, woman." he shrugged, "i didn't, so, we could go get some—"

"—don't care. and what i do is none of your concern." the street lights painted the barren, concrete roads a subtle orange. the moon hung low in the night sky, and you pressed the accelerator harder.

"it kinda is. we're dating." a self-satisfying grin made to his lips at the mention of the word. his arms came up to rest behind his head, and he looked at you sideways.

your foot pressed down at the accelerator impossibly harder, hands gripping for dear life onto the steering wheel, eyes narrowing at the road as. you grit out, "not your girlfriend. not dating."

he laughed anyways, finding some amusement in your misery, "you're no fun."

"die, roronoa."

"we both might with the way you're driving." he looked out the window, the city outside a mere blur of lights as you cruised down the empty highways to make it back to his home.

"why am i even living at your place, still?" you mumbled into the steering wheel, slowing down begrudgingly. and he replied back coolly, "cause dad likes you more than he likes me."

"hah!" a grin made to your lips. you looked over at him for a microsecond, and looked away immediately lest he looked back at you, "so glad we both finally agree about something."

"yeah." roronoa zoro breathed out slowly, staring at the way the overhead orange lights casted shadows across your pretty face. your hair was pulled back into a messy bun, pretty eyes on the road, and flushed face breaking his heart for the nth time.

flushed face, huh? he cleared his throat, eyes drifting down to his lap, "d- d'you wanna like talk about that... night?"

he didn't miss the way your hands clutched the steering wheels tighter, and a furious blush blossomed across your face as you stuttered out, "no! there's no-nothing to discuss."

he looked away from you, eyes zeroing on the flickering lights of towering skyscrapers far away, "see, 'nother thing we agree on."

but the blush on your face refused to die down, so you just choked out a soft, "shut up, roronoa."

a smile tugged at his lips at your crumbling words, "yes ma'am."

"and stop calling me ma'am!"

10:34 p.m.

"ah, you're back. how wonderful." mihawk's eyes stayed trained on the news on the screen, a glass of wine in his hands. monotonously, he asked, "how are the lovebirds doing?"

"hungry—"

"— not lovebirds."

all three of you looked at the flatscreen, as the anchor flashed a staged photo of you two holding hands with a mischievous glint in her eyes. mihawk sipped down the burgundy liquid, "seems like you are lovebirds to the media."

"shouldn't seem the same to you, sir."

zoro shrugged, picking up an apple that was kept neatly in the fruits basket on the table. he tossed the glossy red from one palm to the other, "yeah, yeah. the 'not lovebirds' are very hungry, though. can we eat something?"

"i'm gonna shower, then eat." you hitched the duffel higher on your shoulder, walking towards your room, "catch you guys later. don't wait for me."

you dropped the duffel down at the door, collapsing on the soft mattress and the familiar scent of the duvet greeted you immediately. a unladylike groan made past your lips as you stretched your limbs and fell slack on the mattress again.

the women's singles was three months away. technically, you could relax for a few days. technically. but after winning the champion's cup, all eyes were on you. and failing wasn't an option. especially not since if you did reach the finals, it would probably be against boa hancock again. and if you lost? that would crush you and your ego to smithereens.

you sighed into the soft covers, turning your head to look at the bedside table to find the same white plastic that was given to you a few weeks back. the pack of beer remained untouched inside. thinking of the interaction with a certain someone, you dug your cheeks harder against the covers to fight off the warmth spreading all over.

get a grip. you hate him.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

28th of august, 11:28 p.m.

knock knock knock.

you stood outside to zoro's door, hands fisted around the carton and feet shuffling over the hardwood floors as you awaited his appearance.

you hate him right?

"hi?" zoro looked at you, eyes immediately narrowing. his neck craned forwards, eyes experimentally looking around as if he expected someone to be lurking in the periphery. once thorough with his inspection, his gaze landed atop you. he repeated, "hey?"

then why were you standing here right now?

"uh, hi?"

"d'you like," he paused, a shiver running down his spine at the possibility of the question, "want something?"

walk away, say you knocked on the wrong door! anything!

"can i come in?" you raised the pack of beer upwards. gulping before mumbling, "i need help finishing this."

"oh?" his lips parted, eyes trained on the glass bottles, "i bought you that like a month ago, didn't drink 'em?"

"uh? no." you looked down at the pack too, "well, i was off alcohol for the season, you know."

"do not disrespect alcohol by calling beer one." he nodded at you gravely, apparently growing serious about the drinks he consumed, and their status.

"okay?" your nose scrunched up, "looks like it is a topic or great importance to you."

"it is. alcoholism is in my blood." atleast hes self aware about him and his dad's habits? that's good. we love a self aware king.

well, no, we don't love him!

your eyes widened at the sudden realization, and your mouth ran it's course trying to cause damage in another sphere of life, "you're adopted, though?"

he stared at you a second, growing unsure of your own parentage and you panicked, "y-you knew that, right?"

"no!" he looked at you horrified. then the expression slipped. what a bastard.

"obviously. I'm just toying with ya." nodding, he took a step back, "come in."

roronoa zoro's room was the same kind it was five years ago. the bed never made, atleast three bottles of water at his bedside table at all given times, the door to the closet ajar and a video game switched open on his flatscreen and two bean bags perched in front of them.

but now the wall behind his bed was painted a shade or sage green, and haphazard, shaky selfies of perona with zoro winning tournaments with on a was put up (by perona, of course). other photos included him with a raven boy you recognized as monkey d. luffy. olympic-level skier. that boy could bend in ways unfathomable.

you briefly caught eye of a red-headed girl but before you could look deeper, zoro crashed on one of the bean bags, helplessly floundering as the furniture beneath him changed shape. he looked back at where you stood, "wanna play?"

"wonderful interiors." you crashed on the bean bag next to him, floundering around much the same before gritting out a, "did you dye your hair to match the walls or vice-versa?"

"very funny," he grumbled, handing you another controller, "you're just mad i pull green off well. now wanna play or what?"

1:26 a.m.

"that was fuckin' unfair," the sportsman grumbled, slumping back in his chair, "you literally tricked me."

"eh," you shrugged, bringing the second bottle to the brink of your lips. your voice reverberated against the delicate glass, "you're just mad i won."

"i am a man of honour and virtue, woman."

"and a loser. a sore loser at that." you grinned at the man, and he sulked more in return. throwing the controller to the side, he brought his third bottle to his lips, "don't you have to go sleep? got no practice tomorrow?"

and you couldn't help but ogle at his lips. he seemed to say some words, but all you could remember was the searing kisses. him again you. senseless. the kind that trailed down you body and—

it was that wretched alcohol, obviously. making you think stuff like this. fuck roronoa zoro. fuck roronoa zoro. fuck roro—

not that kind of fuck.

"—nefertari vivi, right? that's your partner." zoro nodded in approval, continuing with regard of what kind of battles were being waged in the labyrinths of your mind. "dad said she's climbing the ranks pretty soon. could be a real help in winning against boa this year."

he paused, awaiting a reply and your daze shattered as you met his eyes. the fucking alcohol. "yeah. uh, vivi's really good. very quick on her feet too. she's good."

"yeah," he cleared his throat, "so, no practice tomorrow?"

"no, it's a rest day." you gulped down the rest of the liquid, "what about you? decided who's gonna be your next coach?"

"dad says he wants to hand me over to shanks."

"red-haired shanks?! oh my god!" your body moved before your brain and you turned towards the man you had loved once. body angled forward, way too close.

and roronoa zoro forgot how to breath. you were so pretty. fuck you. fuck you. fuck yo—

fuck you in the exact way he was thinking.

and maybe you could hear his thoughts or see the resolve in his eyes because you pulled back. tucking your hair behind and fidgeting with your fingers, you gave him an awkward smile, "i mean he's just a legend. so, it's huge that you get to... be his student."

"nothing's set in stone." the man continued to stare at your lips, head tilted towards you expectantly, "i mean, dad isn't fond of him. says he's a pain. but, uh... like you said, he's good. plus i know him. he's basically luffy's dad with how often luffy crashes at his house."

you hummed, eyes shying away from him, "that's nice."

he hummed back, eyes zeroing on you, "'spose it is."

you don't know who or what to blame for what happened next.

the alcohol? zoro, for the way his fingers softly touched your cheek? yourself, for the way you leaned forward and caught his bottom lip against yours?

his hands manhandled you, picking you off of your bean bag and onto his lap. the ever-changing furniture dipped further against your weight. your hands in his hair, his under your shirt, kissing each other fucking senseless.

"roron-" you tried to start, but he didn't give you an opening. slotting his tongue against yours, the man tried to gulp every inch of you down. his hands moved up and down your back, expert fingers playing with the clasp of your bra. and he pulled back, heaving as he met your gaze, "off."

"no—" you threw your head back, a flurry of kisses against your neck and collarbone. your consciousness slipping past you with each graze of his lips against your naked skin, "z-zoro, we shouldn't."

"but this means nothing," he mumbled against your soft skin, "nothing at all, i promise."

and you found yourself deliriously nodding, helping him make up the candied lies, "and we are pretending to date. yeah? this is normal."

he took off your tshirt, hands coming up to play with your tits through your bra. nodding, he squeezed them, "yeah. yeah, it is, pretty."

"mhm, okay." your pelvis shifted over his, trying to gain friction through the layers of separation. he kissed you again, and you whimpered as he undid your bra and threw it off of you.

his thumb and forefinger rolled the perky nipple between them, his thoughts running off with reckless fantasies as you moaned in his mouth, "—ngh, z-zoro."

his hands lifted your hips, lips never once stilling against you. then, he pulled you down such that you could feel his erection against your core. you moved in tandem to his wild, untamed thrusts. lips parting open to moan out his name when—

"—zoro." a stern voice from outside, and you both froze, still tangled within each other.

shit, shit, shit.

"zoro, can you hear me?" mihawk called out once again, and you scrambled off of the sportsman to go put on your tshirt. zoro yelled back, panicked, "'m playing, gi-gimme a second, dad."

and you caught the man trying to adjust his pants to hide the erection as he got up with jelly for legs. he gave you a once-over, decided you looked decent enough, told you to hide behind the door and scrambled to open the said door.

hiding his lower torso behind the door, zoro gave mihawk the best look of nonchalance he could muster, "uh, yes. what's up, father?"

mihawk stood with an old-fashioned candelabra in his hands. a stoic expression on his face... and a vampire themed night-suit. checks out, yeah. his gaze pierced zoro, "she's not in her room, is she with you?"

"n-" zoro tried to lie, but mihawk glared at his son harder. and zoro crumbled like he was sixteen again, "yes. but we were just playing video games."

"hm? have you seen the time?" the former coach called out your name, and you slid forth from where you were hiding. a meek, "yes, sir?"

"why are you here? don't you have practice tomorrow?"

"n-no, sir." you looked downwards, crumbling like you were sixteen yourself. trying to hope he wouldn't notice zoro's and yours disheveled hair and clothes, you choked out a short, "rest day, sir."

"rest day, is it?" his eyes looked vampirish under the light from the candles, "rest days are meant for resting. not for goofing off."

mihawk stared the two of you down one last time before turning away and treading through the darkened hallways with only his candelabra to hold close. he didn't bother turning to look at you, but his voice was stern, "back to your room, now."

"yes, sir. sorry, sir." you nodded, moving past zoro and walking behind him. but a strong grip on your wrist made you look back. you turned back, confused and zoro — practically shrouded in darkness —pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, "g'night."

before you could look at him and question his intentions, he murmured, "just pretending. sorry."

mihawk yelled over his shoulder, "GET MOVING, YOU TWO."

"SORRY, SIR."

as you walked away from the mosshead, your fingers rested over your nose gingerly, as if you could feel him there still.

you two were going to ruin each other.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

31st of august, 12:25 p.m.

and ruin he did.

his index finger travelled over the dip of your waist, travelling down, down, down till it stilled over the waistband of your shorts. he dragged the cloth downwards, exposing the naked skin to his hungry hands.

you were gonna be his untimely death.

continuing to knead at your slightly exposed hips, his lips slotted against yours feverishly. pressing himself against your back, he built you up only to ruin with his own lips. he pulled you face backwards, closer against him, as his ravished self drank down any defiant moan that escaped you.

"z-zoro." you whispered softly, the words disappearing down the tangled sheets between you. he hummed back just as softly, one hand now disappearing under your t-shirt to harshly tug on your nipple and another came to run a light finger over your drenched slit.

"aah ah zo—" you moaned you as he continued moving his fingers up and down. up and down. up and down. till his finger came to still over your puffy clit, and he rubbed slow circles onto it.

the two of you were in your bed, the lights off as you navigated each other with uncanny ease. he was snug behind you, his erection digging into your thigh as he toyed with you and kissed you down like a man set to ruin you.

his left hand alternated between softly pressing down your tits, to harshly tugging and rolling your nipples in a way that had you barely breathing against his kiss-bitten, reddened lips. all while he right toyed with your clit, dragged sloppily to tease your hole before toying with the trembling nub.

you felt yourself growing stupid, turning into jelly and trying to run away from the man behind you.

"no—" he laughed softly against your skin, "don't run, you want this."

"i do-i don't." you glared back at him through whatever sanity you retained, and he cooed back. taking his fingers off of your soaked cunt, he teased, "you don't? sure?"

"zoro, come on—" you whined, but he shoved the sticky, sweet fingers past your soft lips. a command against the column of your throat, "ask nicely."

his teeth sunk down on your neck, fingers patiently sinking against your tongue, waiting for you to wilt under him. he raised his head, pulling out his wetted fingers. you looked back him, lips dripping with your sweet and spit. your eyes softened but words stayed razor-sharp, "'m not begging."

"no?" he echoed, the wet fingers sinking against your cheek to pull them into an embarrassing pout. his eyebrows furrowed, "no?"

you shook your head despite his firm grip, and he laughed. a boyish laugh, the kind set to tear you apart from within. pressing a kiss to your neck, he dragged his lips upwards to your ears, "guess i'll have to force you, hm?"

and who was roronoa zoro if not a man of his words?

thumbing your clit, his dick rammed into you again and again and again. hot breath fanning your neck, strong arm wrapped around your waist as he dragged you back to meet his ravaging, hungry movements.

you turned your face sideways, panting into the pillows as his thumb pressed down your throbbing nub, and continued to fuck into you like a maddened man.

"come on," he cooed, arm sinking further against your waist and pulling you flush against your chest. his words were tainted with strained breaths, "be nice, baby. ask me, hah- fuck. and i-i'll give you anything."

"ah wh-what?!" you yelped as he turned on his back, pulling your limp body over his chest. your sweaty back against his sculpted, toned torso and his voice ringing into your ear, hysteric almost, "c'mon, be nice, baby. say thankyou."

feet planted in the bed, hips pistoling into your gushing cunt as his fingers teased and pressed down the nub. your shaking hands pressed down against your mouth to shove back any wretched screams that threatened to tear past your pretty lips.

and the sight of trying to hold back cries made him feral. his pelvis smacked against your ass, the skin stinging with each harsh thrust of him cock into your bruised walls. the mushroom tip teased your g-spot and your toes curled as your clit suffered under his unyielding circles, "hah zoro, zo— im gunna cum, 'm cumming, cumming fuckk."

a wretched laugh underneath you as the man continued to chase his own high, fucking into your gummy walls like a man ready to lose everything just to have you. betting on his body, his soul, his sanity with the way your snug cunt milked him, pulling him into you as it throbbed so deliciously.

"zo... please—" hot tears falling past your eyes at the overstimulation as sticky hot filled your cunt to the brim. his fingers thumbed away at your clit though you trashed against him, and tried to pull away. away, away, away.

frenzied pants against the shell of your ears, hips still ramming his already-hard dick into your abused pussy with ease, "what do you want?"

"more." you babbled, eyes rolling back as he kept fucking up into you with no regard from your pulsating, aching cunt, "mo-more please, please, please."

"hah really?—" he laughed, ready to chase his high again. deranged, almost with the way he kept fucking into you. only one thing one his mind: to fuck your limp body even though his mouth grew dry, hips ached and back muscled burned.

how could he stop? just how, when your nails indented themselves against his arms and hot, fat tears fell past your eyes. and those sounds? muffled moans, heavy sighs? ah, you would kill him. and what kind of man would he be if he didn't even thank you properly by fucking you stupid?

you skin stung, waist marked red from how tight his grip was, hair sweaty and eyes rolled back as deranged moans tumbled past your lips. all words just variations of his name.

"zoro, zoro zoro hah- fuck nghh aah—" he lapped a hot stripe up your neck, tasting your salty skin as you bounced mindlessly against him and came over his aching cock. words caught in your throat and your limp body stilling against him, drowning him in such a pretty shade of white from both of your orgasms.

"shit," he mumbled, feeling the viscid liquid slowly travelling down his veiny shaft as he pulled it out. he softly let you off of him, letting you snuggle your sweaty forehead against his clothed chest. chest heaving up and down, cheeks flushed and lips reddened. his gaze trailed down your weary figure and down to your inner thighs, glistening with sticky residue of him on you.

what a fucking sight.

and zoro was just a mortal man, at the end. so how can you blame him for finding you in the middle of the night, pinning you down and fucking into you with reckless abandon for the next few nights? stealing kisses in the darkened hallways, huffing softly as your palmed him softly and straddled his hips under the pretense of "asking him for advice on the game."

"we shouldn't." you would mutter every time without fail, even as you allowed his easy access to tear off your panty and fuck you full till you were delirious and about to pass out with his name as a mantra.

"don't worry," he would always mumbled back, words honeyed against your sweet lips, "don' worry at all, pretty. this means nothing, hm?"

and you would nod along, letting him to mark you up again. he would be the death of you.

8th of september, 7:32 p.m.

and he was.

"you've been terrible lately," robin admitted seriously, "your focus is elsewhere, and you look like you haven't slept in a week."

your gaze drifted downwards, "i'm sorry, coach."

her voice was gentle and you were struck at how young she sounded. she was once your age and number one, and you were getting hung up over one boy.

she read your expression, the bitter twang of guilt in your eyes, and her delicate fingers came to rest under her chin, "don't be sorry. but get serious." she paused, "don't lose yourself over a man, it won't be worth it."

"of course, coach." you nodded, and robin dismissed you with another stern look. and as you sat in the passenger seat of zoro's sportscar, you became hyper-aware of his hand on your thigh, of his words and how casually he talked to you.

end this. now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

11th of september, 8:03 p.m.

"ohmygod, zoro." you mumbled lowly against his lips, hands finding purchase against his crisp white shirt, "you're overdoing it."

his left arm tightened against your waist, right hand coming to hold yours against his chest, and head tilting to kiss you harder. he pulled back to look at you. your eyes shut, lipstick smudged, and manicured arms creasing, ruining his shirt. ruining him.

fuck, you were divine. and he was a man at your mercy.

the sportsman stammered out, words barely audible, "'m not. did you not get the memo?"

you had, unfortunately.

after talking to robin, you had managed to avoid zoro for quite a few days. and when you finally met his eyes over dinner, he just gave you an understanding look. no love, no brooding, no nothing! maybe, he understood this was a pr stunt, after all.

but then, sanji had called you up, bumbling with excitement, "my love!"

"sanji." you had laughed at his excitement, staring at your ceiling as you lay on your bed, "what's up?"

"okay," he had stilled, questioning his excitement, "you're gonna hate this, i think. but—"

the laugh had died in your throat, "what is it."

"so, you're invited to the get-together being held by the worldwide badminton association, how fun!" you had sat up, unamused, "okay, and? there's more, right?"

"well, roronoa zoro's invited too."

"no."

and the memo had been to take the pda up whenever necessary and convince everyone how utterly in love you two were. maddened by it, in fact.

so, now, you two were holed up in the bathroom, doing whatever this was. zoro raised his thumb to your lips, slowly cleaning the mess he had created, and you almost flinched at how careful he was being.

"you know," you drawled out slowly, letting him work the smudges, "we could have just smudged my lipstick, without actually kissing. and people would have caught on."

"hm?" he hummed, still invested in perfecting his craft. and your eyes trailed downwards to his exposed neck and chest, littered with red markings; courtesy of you. "better to be thorough. can't afford to mess it up, right?"

"right." you looked up at him, eyes stalling at his reddened lips before you turned around to look at the closed door, "ready to go outside and pretend to be in love?"

"of course."

"great." you breathed out, looking back at zoro one last time.

he was dressed in a smart navy button-down and dress slacks. and you were dressed in a matching navy, silken slip dress and dainty heels, hair styled in soft waves to match the man behind you.

he opened the door, letting you out with a million dollar smile on his face as he posed for the paps that dwelled in the crowd. you took his hand gingerly, mirroring his giddy expression as you stepped out and were blinded by the snaps of glittering lies and gossip.

the power couple emerge disheveled?! how scandlous!

the two of you mingled within the crowds, hand in hand, with promises of life and death, and stolen glances. the crowd cooed and the interviewers threw one question after the other at the two of you. zoro answered each question with a hint of smile, fingers never once leaving your waist.

"so? do you think she's the one?" an official's wife asked, chasing the question with a giddy laugh.

"of course. who else, if not her?" he answered smoothly. he turned to look at you, head dipping down ever-so-slightly. his breath warm against your neck, neat hair falling against your skin, and a breathy, "what do you think, baby?"

"i— yeah. i think he's the one. he's..." you blinked up at him, eyes widening as he smiled at you again, "perfect."

you put on a faux smile as the man nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. and, you were lead to your demise with a wicked epiphany: this man would eat away your sanity. someday, somehow. he will.

"well, isn't it a bit weird to see roronoa see smile so much?" another official asked, "he's always so stoic that this seems wrong, somehow."

"well, i'm not smiling at you. am i, oldy?" as if to prove his point, the sportsman pressed his lips into a thin line.

"hah, ever the charming gentleman." the man laughed, trying to mask the disrespect under layers of jokes. you laughed along, clutching zoro's bicep in an last-ditch effort to save the mosshead's reputation, "well, you know how his humor is."

what a fucking headache this man was.

12:12 a.m.

"ugh." you groaned as soon as your back hit the leather seat of zoro's car. getting comfortable, you muttered a low, "thank god that shit's over."

your nimble fingers came to tear off the heavy, rented diamond earrings off of your ears. your feet ached, your head ached and as you caught the sight of zoro adjusting his seat, your heart ached.

he was pretty under the dim light. shit.

"you good?" he leaned over you, muscled arm tugging the seat-belt and strapping you in, "do your feet hurt? i can take off your heels for you, if you wa—"

"no." you looked away from him, heart pumping at the close proximity, "i'm fine."

"ah, okay then. suit yourself." he pulled back, and put his seat-belt on. the mosshead changed gears and soon enough, you were cruising down ghostly roads.

why was he acting like you two were together? it nauseated you. made your head spin. made you feel stupid, seventeen and like you'd fall right back into the death trap that was roronoa zoro.

you both sat in silence, and the moon hung low, the stars twinkling in the night sky like forbidden jewels. all was good, all was great. till you decided to ruin whatever ounce of peace remained between the two of you. your fingers turned down the volume of the song blaring in the background, till all that remained was venomous silence and you and him, and him and you.

"roronoa."

he hummed to signal he was listening.

you drew in a strained breath, you're not my boyfriend, and you will never be. not even in the future." your icy words the only sound in the car, "i hope you understand that."

roronoa zoro looked at you, and then replied slowly, "yes, i do."

"this is just a publicity stunt," you declared, "and once this shit is over, i am gonna walk away and never see your face again."

the car made it's way down a deserted road, "yes, i know that too."

your eyes narrowed at his simple answers but you kept gawking at the road ahead, "you don't act like you know it, though."

he grew silent, and you waited for his response. moments passed you by in uncomfortable silence but then, finally, "i was told to pretend i love you, and i am doing what i was told."

"when have you been the one to follow rules?"

the man sighed, "do i need to have an excuse to love you?"

"love me?" you scoffed, "i am sorry for fighting old battles, but you left me."

his knuckles grew white and he pressed the breaks. the car jolted abruptly before being parked at one side. a beat passed, then another, and another. then, "i was seventeen."

"that's the problem." you undid your seatbelt, eyes trained ahead, "i am not angry that you chose your fucking career over me. good for you, you're at number one! huzzah! but you left. just like that."

"i am sorry." he looked straight ahead too, voice tainted with guilt, "i truly am sorry—"

"sorry wouldn't fix shit, would it?" still not meeting each other's eyes. cowards. both of you. "all i wanted was a phone-call, maybe a fucking email. fax, maybe? anything. anything to tell me where you went. that you were fucking sorry, and that this was for the best."

"i kno—"

"—doesn't seem like you do, zoro." you spat out, words turning vile at the tip of your tongue, "you just fucking ran."

"believe me, it wasn't selfish." his voice was low, the kind that reverberated against the metallic car frame and came back to you. you replied back easily, "it wasn't selfless either."

and you two fell into silence once again. your head spun, words stuck in your throats. accusations, grievances, foul words.

you paid it no mind and your fingers softly unlocked the car door. you stepped out, walking away from the expensive car. and as the night air hit you, you were acutely reminded of just how stupid the situation was. you, still clinging onto a heartbreak from five years ago. honestly, you should swallow down that bitter pill and forget it.

but how could you forget it? how? when the subject of your heartbreak was calling out your name, slamming his side of the door as he chased after you, as if afraid to lose you once more.

his calloused fingers grabbed ahold of your wrist, "wh-where are you going?"

"nowhere," you didn't bother to turn around to see his face. your voice, or whatever words you spewed forth were monotone, devoid of anything human, "just wanted some fresh air, roronoa. go, sit in the car. i'll be back in two minutes."

"don't do this." zoro tugged your wrist backwards, trying to turn your body to face his, to atleast dignify him with a look as you broke his heart.

"don't do what?" you stilled, unmoving as he tugged you back delicately. "i told you that i will be back—"

"d-don't leave." his voice cracked uncharacteristically, "i— if you're angry at me, hit me. curse me. shoot me. do whatever you please with my heart, but look at me. don't turn your back on me."

under the moonlight, it seemed like you were cruel. because you remained unmoving as hot tears pricked at your lash line and your nose grew warmer, "when have i been the one to turn my back on you, zo?"

he flinched at the nickname. his voice was desperate, words limited to calling out your name over and over again. he stepped closer, warm breath on your goosebump-ish skin, desperate, "don't leave, please. please. i fu— i fucked up, i know."

"—no calls, no texts, nothing. you're a phantom and i'm the fucking idiot waiting around on you for a whole year." your voice stayed the same, wretched, monotonous tone. as if he wasn't even here and you were just confessing your heartaches to the night sky, "you know, on my eighteenth birthday, my parents asked me to blow out a candle and wish for something. and i wished for you. that you came back. how fucking stupid."

"i'm sorry, please."

but you were a woman anguished, so you continued, "and maybe some deity heard me. because i saw you again. after a year, i saw you at an event by the worldwide badminton association. but then, whenever you saw me again, you avoided me like the fucking plague for the next five years."

"i thought i was saving you," his voice sunk past your flesh and deep into your bones, "i thought i was saving both of us the heartbreak becaus-because i loved you."

and then you felt it. wayward droplets on water falling on wrist as his head hung low. zoro's voice shook, interwoven with slow drags of breath that barely held the stoic man behind you together, "i wanted to save you the heartbreak cause i love you."

he called out your name again, his calloused fingers digging against the silken cloth as if you would run away. words only growing heavier as tear after tear fell down his face, "i know i was so stupid. it was... it was selfish, and stupid—"

"realized so soon?" tears welled in your eyes, body struggling against his hold, "you know, after you left town, i got better at this wretched game for you. so that someday.... some fucking day, i would be on your fucking level. then, i'd look you in the eyes and tell you to fuck off. say it with my all of my fucking chest."

you turned around, letting his touch scorch your skin, desperate pangs of breath be the only indication either one of you was alive. you slowly brought a hand up to his face. his bloodshot eyes met yours, lips trembling. you looked like he just stabbed you in the heart. "but now, i'm here. and you're here. and i just wanna ask. i— did i mean nothing to you, zo?"

and with that, roronoa zoro lost all sanity.

"'m sorry. im sorry, im sorry, im s-sorry—" heavy tears fell down his face, as did he; crumbling down, and only being held up by your support. he sobbed against your skin, tears falling and tainting your skin as he chanted apologies against your skin.

and mindlessly, almost like you were built for the sole purpose of holding him against your mortal body, your hands raked through his hair and he held you tighter.

he collected himself, lifting his gaze just to disintegrate at your tear-stained face all over again, "i-i thought it would hurt less if i said nothing, and you would think of it as a bad breakup... and move on. you would forget me, and i, you. but i couldn't."

bottom lip trembling, he found his forehead against yours, hand on your cheek, "i fucking couldn't. day and night, all i could think of was you."

your breath heaved pathetically. body, mind and soul almost giving into the alchemy that was this man. but you shut your eyes, words cut-throat, "and that makes this suffering worth it?"

"i dunno," he shook his head softly, eyes clenched shut, "i dunno anything at all. b-but i know i love you, i do. and i've hurt you but—" he stepped back, eyes begging, "i'd make it up to you. i promise. give me a chance, and i—"

a chance? a fucking chance? after five years of avoiding you, two months of pretending like you were nothing more than a doubles partner, he wanted a chance? hah, funny.

"zoro." your body grew stiff under him, eyes boring into his bloodshot ones without any lingering emotion, "we should go home, it's getting cold. i said what i had to say, and you heard it all."

"hey, hey—" his hands fell on your shoulders, as his voice shook, "please, i will fix—"

"—let's go home, zoro. please."

you drove home in silence. and when you both made it back home, mihawk didn't ask any questions about your bloodshot eyes, or about the way zoro disappeared in his room without even a word.

and then, you stopped talking to roronoa zoro.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

28th of september, 9:01 a.m.

it had been almost three weeks since you confronted zoro.

and in those three weeks you had lost count of how many times the mosshead came to your door, knocked, and left before saying anything at all. you had lost count of how many times he showed up outside your practice court, gave you a posed kiss for any paps around, and then drove you back home in silence with your old favourite songs in the background. you had lost count of how many times he left cup noodles, chocolates, and whatever else he could find at your door wordlessly, and how many times you found his asleep at your door.

it was all in vain, though. you were done with him.

no matter how much you wanted to stop him, and talk to him when he came knocking. no matter how much you wanted to smile at him when he came to pick you up. how much you wanted to talk to him about your practice, and to ask for his feedback. no matter how hungry you felt, how desolate you felt for his words, for his skimming touches. you refused to give in. you turned roronoa zoro down, always.

if you allowed him in, you would be rendered useless. battling heartache again for the nth time, wouldn't you?

"so, this is it?" you asked slowly, and your mouth grew dry despite the bottle of beer in your hands, "we're done?"

"yes!" sanji clapped his hands. his voice was clear through the speaker, "we're nearing the end. aren't you glad? you would never have to see that mosshead again!"

"r-right." you swallowed, "that is good. that is what i want."

you sounded unconvinced to your own ears, god knows what sanji was making out of your words? as if echoing your thoughts, your manager stilled. he blew out smoke before wondering out loud, "do you want to continue this further? if that is indeed the case then—"

"no." you replied firmly, cutting the blonde off. "just give me the details of when to end this, and how. fucking end this."

"well... if you say so." he continued, "your doubles championship is two weeks away."

you nodded consciously as your mind drifted to boa hancock and the possibility of losing all over again. sanji inhaled smoke like it was second nature to him, and then spoke again, "in three days, we leak that you and roronoa are done for." sanji grinned, a businessman at his very core. "but then you two make a public appearance to prove the rumors wrong. a week and half later, you win the tournament, and we confirm you've both broken up. and just like that, you're a sensation, love!"

"that's it?"

"that's it! and anytime, anyone asks you about him? you just say you don't wanna talk about it." sanji paused, "sounds good to you?"

"from what i understand, i just need to focus on the tournament and you'd handle the rest?"

"of course, darling."

"okay, then." you inhaled slowly, "just two more weeks."

"just two more."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

13th of october, 10:03 a.m.

this was bad. this was bad. this was bad.

you tried to stabilize your breathing before you went down spiraling and took your team with you. your eyes darted to the blue-haired girl next to you. vivi. her skin gimmered and glittered as if she was royalty by blood, and she glanced back at you to give you a re-assuring smile.

in the court front of you stood boa hancock and her sister, boa marigold. both of them stood, unphased. not a wayward sweat-drop nor strained breaths. and it dawned on you for the third time that these women were in a league apart from you, as if separated by DNA itself.

your 16 points to rival their 20 points. you were losing the finals. badly, at that.

"what do we do?" vivi whispered to you, and you found the resolve weakening in her eyes. and you were acutely reminded that this was the blue-haired girl's first doubles tournament. you gave her a reassuring smile, "try to play defensive for a bit. they are trying to wear us down with constant attacks, and all we can do is try not to fall into their trap."

"conserve our energy for now, right?" vivi nodded, taking her position back in court.

your eyes ran over the crowd once more in hopes for a recognizable mosshead but you found no trace of him. well, that made sense. he wasn't supposed to come show today since the two of you "broke up."

you sighed, and your brows furrowed as you focused on the game. that bastard be damned.

but shot after shot after shot, the conclusion remained the same. the two sisters inched closer to victory as they bagged another point. all while you and vivi tried to cling onto the delusions of winning the tournament. and then—

fwoosh.

the shuttle made it past your ear with a soft wheeze, and your eyes trained on boa hancock watched the woman crack a wicked smile. her sister clung onto the older raven-head and you found yourself stuck, frozen, unmoving as vivi cried out in defeat and fell to her knees.

you lost. again. how fucking pathetic.

an impossibly heavy weight fell atop your chest, throat closing up as tears rushed to your eyes. but you blinked them away, instead choosing to pick vivi up and wish the boa sisters congratulations.

you lost. oh well. always the idiot that stayed, never the star player, right?

1:03 p.m.

you felt like your mouth was full of tar, throat closing up as the news reporters and interviewers peered you and your partner down.

"this is the third major tournament you've lost against boa hancock," the interviewer pushed his spectacles up, "do you think you'd ever be able to catch upto her?"

"well," you smiled, "she's number one for a reason. and this just goes on to show that i have so much learn to—" your gaze ran through the media people that sat in front of you and it felt like all of them were scrutinizing you under their hawk-like gazes.

you gulped, smiling harder, "i have to learn so much yet. and i wish, i do wish to get better. of course. but i have nothing but utter respect for the boa sisters."

"are you and zoro actually done for?" another voice asked, and you tried avoiding to look at the source. if you could ignore the question, then it'll be like it wasn't even there. but more voices piled on. more, more, more. till you felt like zoro's name was everywhere.. all-consuming. and your hands shook as you tried to sip down water.

but vivi came to your rescue. her polite tone turning vile as she leaned forward into her mic, "i would implore you to ask relevant questions only. i admire roronoa zoro, but he has nothing to do with our match."

"so, this means you and zoro are done for? but what was the reason?" the voices tried to dissect a relationship that didn't exist, "did he realize he couldn't be with someone beneath him? as his title as the number one, did you threaten his legac—"

"shut up. shut the fuck up." your voice was soft against the mic, eyes malicious, "this is enough. thank you."

and you found yourself dragging your chair backwards and walking away from the panel you and vivi were sat on. your guards behind you and vivi as you walked down the wretched hallways. the blue-haired trailed after you, her tone worried, "hey, are you okay? they're assholes, ignore them. hey—"

but you couldn't hear anything.

a low buzzing in your head, and your body felt like jelly as tears threatened to fall again. something sharp in your chest dug itself deeper and deeper till it made a home in your bones. and the overhead lighting of the halls felt too bright as you walked away from the stadium and to your car. and next you knew, you stood at the reception to the hotel. mindlessly collecting your key and walking over to the elevator, you felt nothing.

you felt nothing as you had entered the hotel lobby and the dizzying smell of expensive perfumes permeated your figure. you felt nothing as you passed the expensive marble halls to reach the elevator. in fact, you felt nothing as the metallic box creaked slowly and you reached the fifth floor.

but... did you feel nothing as you stepped out the elevator, took slow steps and lifted your head up just to find roronoa zoro standing at your door?

you halted and he looked at you before pursing his lips, as if unable to say anything at all.

and you shared the same sentiments. so, you just nodded at him. not even bothering to ask why he was here, how he was where? why? you simply walked upto him, swiped the key-card and stepped in, allowing the mosshead to step in after you.

"you're not supposed to be here." you admitted, locking the door. giving him a brief look over your shoulder, "we're done pretending."

"i'm aware."

you hummed, walking past him and collapsing at the edge of the bed. your nimble fingers moved downwards to your shoes as you began to undo the laces. but calloused fingers stopped yours, as zoro kneeled down to peel the shoes off your aching feet.

"you don't have to." you tried to reason but his head was tilted downwards, avoiding your piercing gaze, "i know."

you sighed, "i'm tired, zoro."

he moved the white shoes to the side, "let me run you a bath."

your palms fell flat against the soft mattress, voice tethering on the edge of unraveling, "i didn't know you were here. you weren't in the audience in the stadium."

"i was." he looked up, eyes softening at your downcast features, "i- jus' thought we were done pretending, so, didn't try to make a show of it."

"that's nice of you," you replied back softly, head tipped back to stare at the spotless ceiling. but the man cut you off, "you did good."

the crisp linen under the palms fisted involuntarily, your lips pressing into a thin line, "you don't need to flatter me."

"'m not." he stayed kneeling, tender gaze against your weary body. he repeated, "you did good."

lips trembling, eyes clenched shut, and throat closing up all over again, "i did not. i lost."

"stop saying it like that." he repeated, slowly getting up. and your bloodshot eyes met his as your body slumped forward. hands still digging into the flimsy linen, you stared up at him, "it's the fuckin' t-truth. i lost."

his careful touch lingered on your cheek, "you did more than enough. good job."

and everything inside you melted at his foolhardy touches, sobs racking through your body as he wrapped his arms around your and you clenched his t-shirt instead of those unfamiliar sheets. fuck. fuck. fuck. your tears wetted his shirt as you body shook against his familiar touches.

his heavy body grounded you, the familiar scent engulfing you as your world as you knew it crumbled around you. desperate, desolate, pangs of air hit his abdomen as you tried to catch your breath. only to fail, and break out in a sob, "—an' i tried. i did."

he stayed shut, allowing laments to drop down your words and land against his skin. your fisted hands landed against him weakly, striking over and over again, "fuck you. asshole." you breathed heavily before your voice grew weaker, "fuck you."

"'m sorry." he caught your hands slowly and held them still against his chest. you could feel the faint thrumming of his heart. thump, thump, thump. the same heart that so desperately tried to get you to love him again. but when had you ever stopping the man above you?

his calloused palms pressed against yours as you dragged your eyes up at him, and your breath got caught against the tangible threads of your lucidity.

roronoa zoro looked at you like you were his god.

he kneeled, meeting you on your eye-level. his hands pulled yours upwards, and he pressed another chaste kiss to the back of your palm.

and all of a sudden you were reminded of being sixteen, sitting on his old house's roof under the night sky, and asking him, "zo, why do you always kiss my hands?"

"because i'm a weirdo." he huffed out, and you grinned in return, "is perona's emo rubbing off on you. first the hair dye, and now this?"

his eyes widened, the sudden realization sneaking up on him like a viper, "no!" and he broke into a furious blush on that random autumn night.

"tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me~" you rubbed your body against his arm and he shivered under your touch. finally yielding to you, as he always did, he sighed. when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper, "as... as a sportsman, my hands are all i have. and you're all i have."

and now the same man mumbled against your mortal flesh, promising ruins and riches in the same breath, "you can hit me, curse me, do whatever you want. just let me stay."

"how can i? it hurts."

and it did. all of it. your head, your legs, your chest, your heart. delicate hands trying to break free from him, tears spewing forth again and again and again till you met his eyes, heaving. expecting him to look at you with disdain, and finally giving up.

but his eyes was warm, hands soft against your skin, words honeyed, "then let me make it better." he came upwards, and his thumb swiped at the fallen tears, "let me try. one last time."

the resolve in his voice hardened, "give me one month. i'll win you back."

one month?

a/n: haha, look it's the girl who was stupid enough to fucking believe this story will end in two parts. i'm convinced nobody's gonna read it. but eh, what can you do? when it's done, it's done. i am contemplating making an ao3 account just so i can post longer stuff, so i hope if there's even one person who likes the idea of that, let me know! sorry this was so long guys :') tagging: @litlebruh @mist-ixx @briezy04764 @otkuhotgirl tysm for reading! i appreciate you guys sm! m.list

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ WATCH ME FUCK YOU

MDNI

J-just some 1 am smut I found in my drafts again ���� ermmm not proofread bc if I recall it was too spicy for me even while writing hehe

⚠️Cws; ummmmm SMUT 🌶️🥵

Notes; AFAB!gn!reader

⚠️💦Smut cws; pn 'slut' and 'baby', size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, rough sex, unprotected sex (creampies), slight dumbification

"Watch me fuck you, baby." He grunts, forcing your head down with his big hand. You watch as his cock moves in and out deliciously; the way your pussy clings each time he pulls out like it doesn't want him to leave, and gushing each time he stuffs it all back in.

Sloppy squelching sounds fill the room, and occasionally the sound of the bedframe banging into the wall.

"Keep watching, baby. Don't you fucking look anywhere else. See how well you take me? Such a tiny little pussy, taking all that. You should be proud of yourself."

You can hardly believe it, either, as you watch his cock disappear inside of your little hole. He's got a thick, nasty cock; one that loves being up in your guts. All his cum froths up the more he fucks his cock back into you.

Your eyes almost slip off for a second to look up to his abdomen; there's a sheen of sweat on his abs, and your wetness and his cum rubbed off on his lower hips.

"Nuh-uh, eyes on my fucking cock, nowhere else. Watch me stuff that cute lil' cunt. Watch daddy fuck you dumb."

He's got no shame about how dirty he's gotten your pussy. His cum is overflowing, spilling out with each plunge back into your heat. He loves it, it's driving him insane, all he can focus on is how good your little body makes his cock feel.

"Fuck, god damn, 'gonna cum again for you. Take every fucking drop like a good slut, m'kay?"

You can barely hear him, you're too fucked out.

But he loves that; the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut and your O-shaped mouth, while you watch him fuck you into a dumber and dumber cock-drunk state.

░ 🍒 Toji, Gojo, Eren, Levi

[oneatlatime]

The Guru

Happy 2024 everyone and welcome to the first time I managed to type 2024 without first typing 2023! Oh and also a write up of The Guru. That too.

Me too Iroh. Me too.

So Zuko is riding high on that post-crisis 'time to get my life together' buzz that, similar to 3 am life plans, should absolutely not be listened to. Wonder how long before he crashes and burns? There's literally 2 episodes left, so I'm guessing one and a half?

Poor Sokka. My boy's got anxiety.

I don't know if it's a monk thing, an airbender thing, an Avatar thing, or an Aang thing, but I envy his complete lack of nerves.

How is Appa ok with them splitting up for a week after JUST getting them back?

I paused in a funny place. Have bonk-eyed Appa.

I love them comparing heights. What do you want to bet that that guy on the right was one of the youngest allowed to go fight, and Sokka made a big deal about how they're almost the same age and surely that means he can go too, right?

A lot of these Southern Water Tribe people have dreads or braids. That's neat.

Bato's arm is still messed up. That's some good continuity.

I've found the source of Katara's cheek bones. I guess Sokka takes after his mum.

Ok I know this is a really emotional moment (and it is! Sokka's spent two seasons earning this!) but my brain fixated on the furs and briefly thought they were sky bison pelts.

"It's been a difficult week for me." This guy thinks the Kyoshi Warriors are there to provide him therapy. Someone please just crown the bear instead.

He just gave away literally every relevant plot point AND outlined how to make sure all these plot points don't succeed. Crown. The. Bear.

Maybe if these generals spent less time playing with their giant model Earth Kingdom and more time general-ing, the war wouldn't suck so much?

Pretty.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the designs, the colour palette, the music, the sound design of this air temple. I love everything about it. If I had the chance to live anywhere in the Avatar universe, it would be here. Even in its ruined state it's such a refreshing contrast to the claustrophobia of Ba Sing Se. I can feel the freshness of the breeze through the screen.

"A spiritual brother of your people" an adult perspective on a near extinct culture! What a resource!

"and a personal friend of Monk Gyatso" an old as balls perspective. He's got to be at least 130.

Anthropology cul de sac time: this guy is so valuable as a resource on the Air Nomads. There's probably parts of Air Nomad culture that Aang can't ever accurately talk about, because he was a kid when he left, and there was almost certainly stuff that the adults kept to themselves, or only shared with the older Air Nomads. This Guru doesn't seem to be an Air Nomad himself, but there's a good chance that there is knowledge that he has, that Aang doesn't. Aang should be nerding out more about this. I'll do the nerding out for him.

Aang just breezes right by that Gyatso name drop like it's nothing. Huh.

Oh hey Toph. I'd forgotten she was in a box. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber really are quite the pair. What's their plan for keeping her fed and watered? Actually, these guys apparently don't know that maps exist, so it's probably never occurred to them that humans need sustenance. They'll rock up to the Bei Fong estate with corpse Toph and wonder why they aren't getting the reward money.

Mai gets called out in-universe for shopping at Hot Topic.

Ty Lee's buttering up of Azula is getting less and less subtle as the season progresses. It's a testament to Azula's lack of awareness that she's hasn't noticed that, and that Ty Lee can get away with it.

Azula's right that it's an extraordinary opportunity. The King gave them quite literally every piece of info required to overthrow his kingdom in a 25 second conversation. I can't blame her for taking advantage of such an easy win.

That's a very effective unimpressed face. And a very impressive beard.

It's funny to see a spiritual concept from the real world pop up in a show that includes things like bending and giant fish possession. The mention of Chakras kind of sticks out. They couldn't invent a Avatar universe version?

"Once you begin this process, you cannot stop until all seven are open." Well that doesn't feel like foreshadowing at all.

This episode should be called "Aang's self-care Journey." It's about time the kid had a me day that wasn't avoidance-based.

Fear: Losing Katara - makes sense. Losing control of his powers via fish possession - makes sense. The Fire Lord - makes sense. But the Blue Spirit? He helped. Doesn't make sense.

Guilt: Running away - makes sense, although I thought he'd worked through that with Katara in the storm. Nuking that idiot General's base - makes sense, but boy did he quite literally ask for it.

This guru is saying some wonderfully accurate, and realistic, things. I love that he's not taking the Katara route of denying anything is wrong. He's going for the acknowledge, then heal route. And yes, it's unfair of me to compare the emotional maturity of Katara to a century+ old spiritual expert.

I'm going to ruin the immersion here and point out that Sokka's dad's voice actor voiced a bunch of characters in season 1. He's doing an excellent job, but couldn't they get a unique voice for a character that's so important (albeit offscreen) to Sokka?

That's an incredibly roundabout way of avoiding pointing out that the Southern Water Tribe are active participants in a bloody war. Sure, we can show multiple characters with visible scarring from horrific burns, but heaven forbid we imply that the Southern Water Tribe sinks ships. The parameters for what is and isn't appropriate on this show sometimes make no sense.

"Aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle." He hasn't seen his boy in two years, but fifteen minutes in his company and he knows exactly what needs to be said and how. That's some top tier parenting. Dad of the year. Dad of the century. Only decent Dad in this show that isn't technically an uncle.

"Follow your passion Zuko, and life will reward you." Great advice for your eight year old audience. Also a great way to end up unemployed.

Positive Sokka creeped me out a few episodes ago. Now positive Zuko is freaking me out too.

Pretty.

Back to Chakras! Shame: Burning Katara - makes sense. But that's it? To have the inner peace of mind of a twelve year old who's somehow only ever done one thing that he's ashamed of.

Is there anyone in the earth kingdom who isn't stupid? Once again wondering at the network's standards. Visible burn injuries are fine, but Mai can't say 'Shut up." It's got to be Shush up. Although I do seem to recall of brief time in the early 2000s when Shut Up was treated as a curse on par with Shit or Fuck. Maybe that was just at my school.

Chakras again! Even for a show that often has an A, B, and C plot, this narrative is ping ponging around a bit much.

Grief: nothing major, just a whole nation. Makes a horrific amount of sense. but I don't buy that he can get over grieving the whole world as he knew it by thinking about his crush. That's way too high a pedestal for Katara to be placed on.

Lies: Not accepting he's the Avatar. Interesting that not accepting that he's the Avatar and not accepting that he's a firebender are two different problems.

I see you reusing the opening credits footage. Your blue filters can't fool me.

PRETTY

Illusion: So we're relearning what we learned in The Swamp. Aang's probably the person currently alive least likely to believe in the rigid separation of the nations anyway. This doesn't feel like an illusion he's subject to?

The way this episode dances between its narrative threads is so great. It's all woven in so beautifully. And this makes perfect sense! Toph's spent her life secretly doing things excellently that everyone says are completely beyond her capabilities. Life has taught her that the statement "you are not able to" doesn't apply. Of course immutable laws of bending physics are treated with the same respect as an adult telling the champion of the Earth Rumble that she's can't earthbend beyond breathing exercises. If you told her that humans can't fly, she'd figure out how within the week.

Plot collision incoming.

Interesting that Katara initially recognises Zuko by his voice rather than his scar.

I'm pretty sure that Zuko and Iroh don't know about the whole brainwashing thing, but wouldn't it be hilarious if Zuko introduced himself to Katara as Joo Dee, and his uncle Joo Dee, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, can I take your order? That would throw Katara into one hell of a moral quandary.

Katara being framed as the solution for Chakra number four comes back to bite Aang, as she's the problem in Chakra number seven. I knew that pedestal was too high.

I've changed my mind. This episode should actually be called "Half a dozen reasons why everyone should just learn to keep their goddamn mouths shut already."

So is anyone going to let Zuko and Iroh know that they're now in immediate danger and need to leave, like, yesterday?

I think the Guru is going for the whole 'if you love them, let them go, and they'll come back to you' thing. Don't cling, in other words. But for the sake of the plot he's suddenly lost his ability to explain Chakras in a way that makes them seem like the logical thing to do. The only clunky bit of this episode so far.

May I introduce you to our Lord and Saviour Toph?

"I am the greatest earthbender in the world." Yes. Yep. Yeah. That's now a quantifiable fact, and it's correct. Look on ye mighty and despair. She's even got Bumi beat.

Earth Tongue Running is a bit wonky looking but it covers a crazy amount of distance.

What's the range on Toph's earth sense? Can she sense what direction Ba Sing Se is?

I hope those two idiots' horse bird is ok.

"You don't know how much this means to me dad." He does. Very much so.

Every word out of this guy's mouth is precision engineered to make Sokka feel like a million bucks and I for one think it's about time someone built him up. Also, seeing this makes me realise how few good parents there are in this show. It's a trope of kids' adventure shows that the parents fundamentally can't be there, but I also think it's a commentary on yet another thing that this war has messed up.

Hey look! Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most, and right now that's in Ba Sing Se, protecting your sister! I love narratives that tie their themes up with a pretty bow on top.

This is Azula laying a trap, right? Which means that Katara squealed to someone about the exact location of Iroh and Zuko's tea shop. Don't like the implications of that.

Photos taken seconds before disaster.

Final Thoughts

This episode was a lot! I mean that in a good way! But I felt a bit like the Maxell Blown Away Guy, the way I kept getting assaulted by yet another plot thread. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a criticism. I think the switching between plot threads and the amount of info in this episode worked 99% of the time. But I'm kind of in awe at the balancing act the writers pulled off and I'm sort of sitting here blinking a bit trying to fit all this stuff in my head. I'm probably going to forget half the stuff I wanted to talk about in this write up, so here goes nothing.

Given the Azula reveal in at the end of last episode, I thought that this would be the episode where the shit hits the fan. I was wrong. I'm glad I was wrong. An episode of set up is required and is nice breathing room, even an episode as busy as this. And I got to leave Ba Sing Se! But this does mean that next episode is going to be calamity after calamity.

Aang and his Chakras: I'm fascinated by this guru. I hope he comes back. That brings the total number of people who were alive before the war started up to three: Aang, Bumi, Guru Patik.

I'm impressed that the run through of the Chakras rarely felt like an info dump. The onion and banana juice thing didn't work for me, but I'm sure it worked for people in the target age bracket. Kids love burp jokes.

So many shows sprinkle in tragic backstories for flavour and then never have them influence the character in the present. It was a nice contrast to see a show take a whole episode to tell Aang "yeah all that sucked. It's ok to feel down about it. Here's how you move forward."

Sokka and his dad: Love it. Love it so much. I love seeing Sokka built up, and he definitely deserves it, but I wonder if this is the reward for a character arc well done, or the set up for a character arc that's about to start? Is his dad's praise his prize for crossing the finish line, or is it so he's built up with farther to fall?

I loved seeing more of the Southern Water Tribe. I loved the fashion. There's a lot of variety in accessories and variations on a few basic elements like those knee guard things. I loved their hairstyles. I loved how cozy and communal that command tent felt. I loved their ships. I wonder how often these guys work out, that they can make loading ramps that are presumably deployed and stashed out of the way frequently, out of whole logs rather than planks. I have a bone to pick with the child-friendly sea mine. But it provides a good set up for a dad joke, so I'll let it slide.

Zuko and Iroh: Of course the one time Zuko is allowed to be in a good place, it's so that he and Iroh both have farther to fall when the inevitable happens. Poor guy just can't catch a break. I'd be mad at Azula for the party crashing that I'm assuming she'll do next episode, but it's been established that Zuko has all nice things taken away from him as soon as he gets them, and I can't blame Azula for being a tool of the universe.

Azula & Long Feng: Azula's acting in Long Feng's prison cell was miles ahead of what Long Feng was doing in front of the Earth King, so I'm wondering if Long Feng has bitten off more than he can chew. Also: conspiring with the enemy to bring down your own city just so you can reinstall yourself as the power behind the throne that will presumably cease to exist as soon as the Fire Nation takes control? That is both treasonous beyond description and an incredible case of shooting yourself in the foot. What's Long Feng's plan here?

Toph and the Dunderheads: it says something about the consistency of Toph's characterisation from her introduction onwards that she breaks the universe this episode and my reaction was "that's neat." It's obviously a huge moment, but of course Toph can do that. Toph can do anything. More importantly, Toph knows that Toph can do anything, so Toph routinely does do anything, especially things she shouldn't be able to do. If you had asked me a few episodes back which character would be most likely to fundamentally redefine bending, I would have said Toph, since she's already fundamentally redefined bending with her earth sense sonar vision.

Also Toph just breaks stuff. Things that come into contact with her cease to function as intended and instead function as Toph requires. Look at the two idiots: both successful business owners, one also a successful hoodwinker of the richest family around. But they come into contact with Toph and their brains take an extended vacation.

Katara & the Generals: this plot was more like an extension of Azula's plot than its own standalone thing. You can't blame her for spilling the news about Zuko and Iroh to someone she honestly thought was Suki. Not much else to say about it, although it's cute that she asks for a table for two at the tea shop. Momo gets a chair!

I like that there's a theme this episode of things going wrong despite the best intentions. No one's acting maliciously here apart from the Antagonists. The Earth King is having an honest chat with people he thought were friends. Sokka vouched for people he honestly thought were the Kyoshi Warriors. Katara shares information about a presumed threat with people she honestly thought were her allies. You can quibble with the wisdom of some of these decisions, but there were all done with good intentions. The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry and all that. It brings to mind that Star Trek quote about how you can do everything right and still lose. And this set up is going to hit harder when whatever goes wrong next episode happens. And something will go wrong. A few months ago I figured that the Season 2 finale would be a triumph, but all signs are pointing towards a tragedy instead.

This episode was visually stunning, the soundtrack in the Air Temple sections especially was very evocative, and I applaud the minds that could juggle that many plot threads at once without dropping any. This one is definitely going on my rewatch list.

[olderthannetfic]

Nearly 75% of fic on AO3 has less than 5 reader comments. Can we please acknowledge that lack of engagement in a positive fashion is the norm in fandom and that writers are expected to work for nothing in return yet readers are allowed to be entitled?

The source of my number

https://www.tumblr.com/transholmes/738776926733336576/and-even-those-numbers-on-the-lower-end-are

--

Hahahahaha.

Oh, anon.

Okay, first of all, I just posted a bunch of graphs showing exactly this, so not only am I well aware of it, but you also clearly don't read my tumblr much and are just here because some friend of yours is upset that I responded negatively to them about their dumb bookmarking opinions.

Second and more importantly...

No, no one is expected to do anything.

That's crazypants influencer talk where you think your hobbies are jobs that you have no choice about doing.

I suppose I do expect fans to have something at least marginally worthwhile to say—or else I'll block them for being whiny little bitches who make my day dumber as well as less amusing.

But mostly, what I expect is that people will do hobbies because they are fun. If I ever decide that writing fic is too boring, I will stop.

I write because it's fun.

I write original work for money too, and if you want to read that, you're going to have to pay Amazon your cold, hard cash. But I still do it because I enjoy the actual act of writing... at least a lot of the time.

What I see in the bookmark boo-hooing is a bunch of people who haven't noticed the last eighty thousand rounds of this same dumb wank and who not only expect to get the last word but expect that somehow I'm going to signal boost it on my tumblr as that... a tumblr known for contentious debates and nobody ever getting the last word till everyone's exhausted and never wants to hear about paper plates or beans again.

I also see that some of the thinnest-skinned people have fic patreons.

Now, I chose not to bring this up before because it sounds a bit below the belt in that "And thus you're morally impure and thus I can ignore your argument" way... But it's a consistent pattern in these conversations over time, and I do think it's relevant. The biggest sensitive babies are always the ones most afraid of bad reviews but also low engagement, and I think it's because they're caught in some half-pro, half-not limbo where they want the best of both worlds but keep getting the worst of both.

If you behave like a professional who is owed compensation, you can expect a more professional style of response to your work.

And what does the pro world look like? Radio silence. The occasional harsh review. Nobody caring why you wanted to write X or why you couldn't finish Y on time.

If you're here to socialize, you should look for a beta or a couple of good friends who like your blorbos and your style of fic, and then you can squee together about what you've written. It may not come in the form of visible AO3 comments. It may be in private chat.

In some cases, it may just be friends you can talk to about your writing but who aren't actually going to read it. I have plenty of friends who read different things than what I write.

That's what socializing and hobbies look like, dude.

It's fine to point out that many writers do get discouraged by low comment counts and then stop, so if I, as a reader in a fandom, want more, it behooves me to befriend writers and make them feel good.

But at the same time, writers get discouraged or move on to the next fandom all the time for all kinds of reasons. If the critical mass and the zeitgeist aren't there, then they aren't.

Do your hobbies for reasons internal to you.

If the main point is external validation, get into BDSM and find someone excited to indulge your praise kink. It will work a lot better than chasing fame via art.

[cursedvibes]

I absolutely hate the way fandom keeps misinterpreting this chart, especially in regards to Yuuji and Hakari. They just go "oh someone is bad at learning in a classroom setting? well they must be stupid and an absolute meathead". Zero consideration for why some people might do worse in academic settings or why one school has considerably "smarter" students than the other. Maybe it's not the students fault and maybe test scores aren't everything.

I'm gonna assume this person was just making a general statement about the Tokyo Trio group dynamic that wasn't meant to be that serious and worded it badly. That's why I'm writing this in a separate post. And again, this is more about a broader trend I see every time that chart gets passed around, not this specific person.

It just annoys me so much how they keep hammering in on Yuuji and Hakari being at the bottom and what that must mean about their overall mental capacity. Hakari was mistreated by the school, no wonder he didn't care about tests. In a day-to-day situation he's much smarter than Panda (three kids in a trenchcoat) or Megumi, but obviously that won't show here. Most people get overwhelmed as soon as he so much as attempts to explain his cursed technique and domain, but sure he's the dumb one. This shows he isn't even bad at regular learning topics, he just had no reason to care about this school.

Same with Yuuji. The fanbook this same chart is from shows he's good in regular high school, he just struggles with the more mathematical side of the STEM subjects. Getting physics lessons from Gojo sounds like a nightmare. Which brings me again to the phenomena that the students in Kyoto do overall much better than the one in Tokyo. If you have nobody to properly explain concepts to you, no shit you're not gonna do well and we have heard many times before that Gojo is a bad teacher. Yuuji learns very fast, we've seen it when he is together with Nanami, Todo and Kusakabe, it just all comes down to how you teach him. Although to be fair, the classroom teaching is also done by assistant directors and windows, who are probably too overworked to put much effort into it. So you have naturally the students already good at learning in this type of environment at the top, while everyone else gets left behind.

Besides that, Yuuji and Nobara have always been very good at thinking on their feet, especially when they are together. Just think their teamwork when fighting Eso and Kechizu or Mahito. In Mahito's case they didn't even see each other and it worked. Dumb Nobara figured out the Mahito she was fighting was a clone, dealt considerable damage to him and thereby helped Yuuji immensely. Anticipating the next steps of enemies and allies alike takes intelligence as well as analysing an opponents abilities and weaknesses like when Nobara turned Rot against Kechizu. Dumb little Yuuji is the sole reason there is even a coherent plan to save Megumi right now.

Yuuji and Nobara like to joke around and be goofy while Megumi is more reserved, but that doesn't make him smarter or them dumber that's just a part of their personality. Megumi being too much in his head and not appropriately judging risks and coming up with effective solutions for them was a whole thing he had to work on and overcome. Todo is also a good example that being a bit of a delinquent and silly guy doesn't say anything about smarts. He's probably just better at school learning (being trained by Yuki that would be partially a necessity) and also had better teachers.

[actuallyadhd]

hi, sorry in advance if this isn't the kind of thing you are open to getting in your inbox, but i just don't know what to do with my feelings. i really hate my adhd. i spent my youth cruising through school and high achiever programs, being told i was going places, and nowadays i am nothing short of completely useless. i'm early in diagnosis to where i'm just starting with medication (15mg of ritalin twice a day at this stage) and haven't effects yet. it's already clear that the dose i'm going to need will be embarrassingly high.

ever since i told my friends, it's obvious that the diagnosis came out of left field for them and that they see me differently. i keep catching them giving me sympathetic looks after zoning out, fiddling with something, or presenting some other stereotypical symptom. i tried mentioning to them how i'm not getting results out of meds yet as a means of whinging since it is making me anxious and a little impatient, and their response was completely uninformed medical advice about how i should be taking them. they're also all talking about how they all probably have adhd too since we 'tend to glom together'. they're all straight-A students with no symptoms or functional issues, so i find this a little condescending. i might be imagining how they've starting talking down to me/talking slower. the diagnosis made me feel stupid enough without them acting like this, and now i just feel like a human joke.

i don't really know what the point of what i'm writing is anymore, but i'm struggling to get any assignments in, failing all my tests, my friends treat me different, my parents are unabashedly disappointed, the meds are taking too long to work, i'm lazy, dysfunctional, getting dumber every day, and my head is too fucking loud to keep living in.

i'm sick of how trying to have a thought feels like being a sentient pile of spaghetti wading through tar, and of not being able to read if my brain decides a particular paragraph is not to its liking, of not remembering anything, of struggling and not even being able to remember and articulate what with, and all the other bullshit. i probably just have to wait this out while we figure out meds, but i'm sorry for using this inbox to vent because i think that's what i'm doing as i can't really go to my friends. feel absolutely no pressure to respond, i might have just needed to wright this down and see it sent off somewhere. any advice is welcome if you have it though, lol.

Sent August 16, 2024

Oof, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way. There's a lot here, so I'm going to try and go through it a bit at a time and tackle everything as I go.

First, this is absolutely the kind of thing I'm here to try and help with. No worries at all on that.

Second, this is a long one, so I'm putting in a cut.

I understand hating your ADHD. You feel how you feel, and that's okay. Reaching out for help is a fantastic way to deal with those emotions.

It sounds like you were a gifted student, and now that you have less of a schedule being imposed on you, you're struggling. That is totally normal, but it also sucks a lot.

You aren't "achieving your potential" or meeting expectations, and at this point they aren't just others' expectations, they're your own. I spent several months working through this issue years ago, and it still comes up for me regularly! The friend who walked me through it was incredibly patient with me, and their job in this case seemed to mainly consist of "why do you think you need to do this thing?" and then just continually asking why until we got to the bottom of it all.

Once you know what's at the base of the expectations, you're in a way better position to decide whether they're expectations you want to try to meet.

One of the good things about getting diagnosed is that it gives you information. Now you know why things are hard, and you can start looking for solutions that will actually work with your brain. You may find some of those solutions here, and you can always ask for help with specific issues.

Now, it's possible that Ritalin/methylphenidate isn't the right medication for you. It is also possible that the dose is too low; I don't know a lot about doses for Ritalin (I was initially put on Concerta but it was Very Bad so we switched to Dexedrine/amphetamine) but I used to know someone who took 150mg Ritalin every day, so that's a thing.

As for your friends, talk to them about how they're acting. Tell them that you don't appreciate the jokes or the different treatment. Explain that ADHD has been there all along, it just wasn't discovered earlier because your giftedness hid it. You are not a different person.

Having ADHD doesn't make you stupid. We've already established that you're gifted. I know what that's like; I was this flavour of twice-exceptional, too, and I was 28 with my ADHD was finally diagnosed. I know that doesn't help how you feel right now, but it is true.

For your school stuff, talk to your instructors about getting extensions so you can try to get caught up. Go to your school's disability services office and talk to them about what you can access in terms of accommodations. Set yourself a schedule for studying and working on assignments that you stick to no matter what.

I'm not sure why your parents are disappointed. If it's your school performance, I get it. Showing them that you're doing your best will help a lot with that. If it's the ADHD itself, that's not your fault. ADHD is hugely genetic, so it's just a thing that happens and probably you have relatives who also have ADHD, or at least people who would probably qualify for a diagnosis.

Medication can take a while to figure out, and it can be difficult to deal with waiting while you get the right medication and the right dose. At the same time, you may not notice a difference right away; so much depends on the person and the medication.

Now, you are not lazy or getting "dumber" every day. You have ADHD, which means you have executive dysfunction. That is hard because the world is not set up for people like us, so when we struggle we compare ourselves to other people and that's never a good idea.

I have a suggestion for helping you feel better about yourself, and then I have some resources for you to look at.

Start a scrapbook that's just about good things about you. Make a page for things you're interested in (or a page per interest). Do something about your favourite colour, things you have done for other people, etc. The idea is that then you can look at this book and remind yourself of the good things about who you are as a person.

As for resources, here are a couple of posts over on the main Actually ADHD site that might help with some of what you're struggling with. Most of the posts there include printables, so do have a look and see if those might help you at all.

Followers, do you have any other suggestions for this anon?

-J

[whumpshaped]

if that’s okay i‘d love to get a continuation to this, where the caretaker maybe realises something is wrong? and they can have a talk with the whumpee about it? or some comfort and recovery for the whumpee?

because tumblr won’t let me link stuff on anon, here’s the link: https://www.tumblr.com/whumpshaped/734392975865626624/hello-would-you-write-a-conditionated-whumpee-in

prev

tw perceived noncon drugging, emeto mention, past trauma, past noncon drugging, conditioned response

Breakfast was uncomfortable and awkward. Caretaker kept trying to say something, only to close their mouth again without a word.

“Are you alright?” they eventually asked, and Whumpee stiffly nodded. “I… I thought I heard you throw up yesterday.”

“That’s odd,” they said curtly.

“You… didn’t?”

“No.”

Caretaker kept poking at their scrambled eggs, biting their lower lip like they were trying to punish themself for speaking up in the first place. And yet, they couldn’t help it.

“If the food is bad…”

“It’s not.”

Whumpee took a big bite of their breakfast sandwich to prove it, and Caretaker sighed.

“Look, I– I get that it can be embarrassing… I just wanna know what’s going on. I can help you if you’re sick.”

“I’m fine.”

Caretaker averted their eyes, going back to pushing pieces of egg around. Whumpee couldn’t stand how troubled and heartbroken they looked.

“Did you put something in my food yesterday?” they blurted out. “At dinner? Or was it the drink?”

“Huh?” Caretaker’s eyes snapped up to meet theirs, full of confusion and concern. “So it was the food. Was the taste off? Mine tasted fine, I didn’t realise–”

“I said, did you put something in my food yesterday?” they repeated, more emphatic this time. Demanding, almost. They had a special distaste for people dancing around their questions ever since they’d met Whumper.

“No,” Caretaker said immediately, still baffled. “I’d never. Do you think I’d do that?”

“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t think so, but then you gave me that, that phrase, and then left me alone in the dark–”

“What phrase?”

“You know the phrase!”

Caretaker shook their head slightly, so utterly puzzled that for the first time, Whumpee considered the possibility that they didn’t actually know. “I can avoid it next time if you tell me,” they offered.

“It’s ‘good night’!” Well. That sounded dumber than intended. “When, when it’s said– said like that, I– Whumper kept saying that! They kept saying it whenever they knew I was about to pass out! They kept saying it after drugging me! They’d have these pills, and they’d–”

“Hey, hey, Whumpee…” Caretaker cut in, making them realise they were getting carried away. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna say it again. And I’m definitely not putting anything in your food.”

Whumpee sniffled, trying to avoid a full-blown breakdown as much as possible. “Great,” they forced out. Caretaker gave them a tentative smile.

“No other concerns?” Whumpee shook their head, quickly going back to their breakfast so they wouldn’t have to keep looking at Caretaker. “Alright, then.”

Truthfully… their sandwich was looking a lot safer and tastier now than they’d gotten that off their chest.

[feenxpit]

Hazbin Hotel Characters as John Mulaney Quotes ★

✧˖° Maaaan, I really wanted to start writing some fics today, but I had zero ideas. So now, you guys are getting this. Isn’t that fun? This is my first written impression on this fandom? Great. Welcome to my first written post outside of an introduction. It gets dumber from here! <3

** I tried really hard to do multiple quotes for everyone, but unfortunately, some only have one.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

— Charlie —

“Woah! That tall child looks terrible! Get some rest, tall child. You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends!”

“I try to stay a little optimistic, even though I will admit things are getting pretty sticky.”

“The more you do stuff, the better you get at dealing with how you still fail at it a lot of the time.”

──────────────────────

— Vaggie —

“Brush your teeth! Now, boom! Orange juice! THAT’S LIFE!”

──────────────────────

— Angel Dust —

“He wanted guys to take their shirts off in his apartment. You’re all uncomfortable now, but I’m way over it. And also, if you think this story ends with me being like: And I said absolutely not— you’re about to be SO disappointed!”

*being asked his name by police* “They call me Baby J out on these streets!”

“If you eat enough ass and suck enough dick, one day, you can sell drugs.”

���─────────────────────

— Husker —

“I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die.”

“For those of you who don’t know what it is, blackout drinking is when your brain goes to sleep, but your body gets all ‘Eye of the Tiger’ and soldiers on.”

──────────────────────

— Sir Pentious —

“You could pour soup into my lap and I’d probably apologize to you!”

──────────────────────

— Cherri Bomb —

“Hey, do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks, and I will totally kill that guy for you.”

──────────────────────

— Lucifer —

“When one feels like a duck, one is happy!”

“We all got divorced, and now our reputation is different!”

“I am very small… and I have no money… so you can imagine the amount of stress that I am under.”

──────────────────────

— Alastor —

“I said no. You know, like a liar.”

*Hotel residents talking about the time they asked Alastor for McDonald’s* “He pulled into the drive-thru, and we started cheering, and then he ordered one black coffee for himself and kept driving.”

“He was a man most acquainted with misery. He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.”

──────────────────────

Bonus (because it was too fitting)…

— Susan —

“Beat it, bozo!”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Thanks for reading! ~ <3

[im-in-love-with-99-demons-again]

HELLO!! hi uh can I request something? I see you have it open so..... Could do some Genshin impact x reader, how they would react if s/o prank them by saying she was pregnant?? Of Scaramouche, Childe, Venti, Xiao, Aether Diluc, Albedo, .....plz

you also don't have to do all of them! But i would really want Scaramouche if possible?

hope you have a wonderful day/night <3

Hello!! YES!! of course, i'll do them all don't worry! like said, i'll literally write anything..... Okay so....uhh...yea some may be longer then others.

I see that you have DMed me that you wanted some drama on some....i'll try and if you don't like it tell me so that i can make it better!! it will not hurt my feelings.

T/w: Cursing, some sexual themed stuff...not too bad actually.

Scaramouche

Okay....so first off is how the hell did you even get in a relationship with this narcissistic ass-

you planned this prank with Childe cuz you both epic 😎 sorry I meant only you are epic. You slowly walked over to Scaramouche as he was getting ready to leave (cuz he had some important stuff to take care of🫠) "Scara!"

You called out to your partner as he only gave a side glare before responding with an irritated tone "What now?" you smiled and looked down trying not to laugh as you pretended to be shy.....wait you actually were but still you continued. "i....I'm....uhh.....remember two weeks ago we had.......uhh-" He interrupted you with a eyebrow raised

"Sex? yeah, I remember. Now hurry up, what about it?I have to go soon." 'OMG He's blunt!!' you thought to yourself, meanwhile Childe in the background being ignored. "Y-Yeah..."

"Yeah?" he repeated but he looked away this time because he was losing interest in the conversation. "I'm pregnant...and your the father"....silence was in the air, he even stooped moving well until he turned his head to the side to look you in the eye.

"Well no shit i'll be the father unless you're cheating on me? but I highly doubt that...because if you did you'll only have a chance with Childe..bwahaha your kid would be dumber then a rock let alone-" You cut him off before he went on a complete different subject.

"So i'm keeping it" his glare got even more angrier not only did you interrupt him....but you are now pregnant and he doesn't want it "Then you can leave, I don't want anything to do with that baby of yours, goodbye-"

With that he started to walk away, surprised but not really because you kinda expected him to respond like that. "It's a prank you dumbass!!"

"Well then you can stay." He said not looking back but a tiny part of him kinda did want you to be pregnant....seeing you all plumped up with the baby he put in you knowing he did a damn good job at it too, just made him a little 😏 he may have a breeding kink and also a get the fuck out and don't pay child support kink too 😭

----------- next----------------------------------------------------------<3-

Childe

He was out in about saving the traveler from Zhongli spending all their mora but as he was once again done with him randomly appearing and disappearing from the traveler he sat near the edge of a rock looking down at Liyue, you slowly came behind him and took a seat next to him. He glanced over before looking back down at Liyue. "Um..I have something to tell you" you stared, he gave a hmm sound as a response which you took the opportunity to go on with your prank. "I'm...I'm pregnant..." he froze as if he had seen a ghost, slowly he turned his head to you "You're telling the truth right?" You smiled and responded with a yes wanting to see what he'll say.

He lips curved into a big smile before he got up and pulled you with him, spinning you in the air not to harsh tho (gently) before softly placing you down and giving a BIG hug (then a small kiss, lol) "I'm so happy to hear that!! I wonder what we are gonna name them??!! Is it a girl?? a boy?? Will they look like me?? or you?? Oh I hope if they are a girl they look like you!! and if they are a bo-" You had to stop him from continuing (cuz it was too far now lol) and blurted the first words that came out of your mouth "It's not yours....." he stopped almost immediately.

You just then realized what you have said and tried to talk before he so rudely left you 🤓 later that day you found him trying to pick a fight with Scaramouche saying why he got u pregnant, Scaramouche was super annoyed and didn't really give a flying damn what he was saying but remember kids...he's an ass so he played along

"So what? you got so worked up for a girl who wasn't even faithful to you and now you're mad at me all cuz s/o liked me better...you had all the chances to make that child yours or is my seed better then yours too?" LMAO anywho Childe, he saw you and glared as he left once again. Scaramouche glared at you and also left (uhh yeah he likes you now....but you got a traumatized Childe 🩷) You ended up finding Childe sitting in a dark ally (LOL) "Get over it! It was a damn prank!!"

"How can I know that for sure" You looked at him and sighed. "You can wait 9 mouth and see that no baby and no baby bump?" He looked at you and said "nah...I'm gonna prove my seed is better!!" You backed away as he started to get up and run to you (YUP have fun!!)

...........----------.............------------.........----0-0.......(0_0)/ ----------------

Albedo

He was up at dragonspine doing some weird shit you were just sitting there watching him and also planning something....yes planning something but not alone!

Klee was there right next to you! (LOL) anywho you got the courage to go up and do it with Klee as your support. "We have important news!" Klee says before you take over seeing as Albedo looked at both of you before looking back at his projects "Well it's good news for us all.....i'm pregnant!"

you said with a big smile and Klee was jumping saying she was so happy that she was gonna be a big sister (Cute) he stooped his movement exactly what you wanted but what happened next you did not expect.

"Oh so you do know? huh strange...I was able to find out easily but still...how? I was sure I couldn't impregnate you but I did...(he looked your way and smiled) I'm extremely happy" Shock....that was all.....you...were actually...pregnant?!

on cue both you and Klee screamed "WHAT!?" he laughed.

"What did you think I was working on? I did take some blood samples and stuff because I was shock that you were pregnant, at first I thought you may have cheated on me but I know you wouldn't....i'll run more tests once the baby is born"

Still in shock you nodded but you were somewhat happy to hear that...finally your guys family will have another member! He ended up asking you a lot of questions but not too much so you don't stress out, but once the baby was born (It was a boy 🫶lol)

you named him (son's name) he had Albedo's eyes and your hair and a fair mix between yours and his skin, the baby had his nose and your lips (CUTE) Albedo ran one more test but on the baby, you and him and there it was....his DNA was flowing in (son's name) Some tears fell down his face(Happy btw) he was so happy yet surprised but he still doesn't know how it happened....maybe you guys are just destined to be (FR)

(does he have DNA...yes..)

-------------------------------------(U_U)/-------------------------------<3

Aether

Aether just came back from one of his missions and he planned to cook something for Paimon and you (and of course himself) You and Paimon where sitting together under a tree and talking as Aether was cooking and a thought popped in your head as you gasped (So did Paimon)

"Did you just think what I thought?" you said looking at Paimon she smiled and responded "To prank Aether!-" She yelled you covered her mouth as Aether turned around seeing as he heard his name be called out "Yeah?" "Oh nothing, go on keep cooking! it smells delicious😅"

he smiled awkwardly and went back to cooking. You turned back to Paimon, "Keep it down or i'll turn you into emergency food right now!!" You whisper yelled as you remove your hand from her mouth. "You're so mean🤧" she pouted, You laughed a little as you continued. "Okay, I was thinking on pranking him by saying I'm pregnant? what do you think about it?" she didn't look satisfied with that.

"Hmm it doesn't sound like a good prank...it sounds lame" She said crossing her arms, but you knew she'd react like this so you smirked and said. "Well look at it this way, If he believes me we would get more delicious food, and you like food right?? so..." she looked up to think then looked back at you. "Okay but I wanna chose the food!" "Okay"

You said as you laughed. Getting up from the floor you headed to your boyfriend and tapped his shoulder, he looked at you with a confused face.

"Yes?"

"I have something to tell you" You said as you tried to look more serious, he saw that and stood up straight as he faced you completely seeing as you had something important to say "..I'm...pregnant...and you're the father.." Shock took over, he was frozen with his mouth a gap and staring at you as if you had just vanished. "Aether?....You there-?"

"You're pregnant??!!" he randomly shouted still pretty shocked, you wanting to continue this so you responded. "Yes" He closes his eyes for a bit as he put his head down a bit and put his hand on his chin in a thinking position.

"......"-Aether,

"......."-you.

Aether took his sweet time thinking about something when out of nowhere he says

"Then who's the father?" You were token aback but answered nonetheless. "You, who else would be the father?...I already told you" He looked at you straight in the eyes.

"But we hadn't had...intercourse for a while now....and I mean like a couple of mouths.....you couldn't have just found out now without it already being visible....and you don't look pregnant....yet" Shit you should have thought this threw!!!!!

"I...uh.....umm...we did...you were just....drunk! yeah you were drunk" "Hmmm I don't recall being drunk or even having any...?.....are...you..cheating on me?" Welp guess you had to tell him now.....or he would think you were unfaithful to him🤦 should have thought this plan threw.

"Okay looks like you caught me, this was suppose to be a joke that I trick you that i'm pregnant but I didn't think it threw. Plus I would never cheat!" He laughs awkwardly "Well uhh that good to hear that you didn't cheat.....but I think it would be nice to have a mini us😁...Would you like to tr-"

"Oh no look!!! the FOOD!!!" Paimon says as the pot of food overflows and burns into the fire below. "Noooo My food!!!😭" You cried out with Paimon as Aether tried to fix it, a little part of him might wanna spend more time with you in a different way 😏 so that next time you tell him it won't have to be a prank nor will he think you cheated (He wouldn't truly believe that you would cheat on him tho)

------------> \(C_C)/ <----------------> <----> <-------> <----------> <------>

Venti

You where walking Venti home after his drinking party when you suddenly came up with an idea. The Idea was that you were going to tell him that you have became pregnant and that you would like if he could spend more time with you as well with try and not spend all your mora on wine!! like sure he could still drink it but not literally get you in debt!!!.

You got inside your home as Venti kept hiccuping talking random stuff, you laid him down on the couch and went to get a glass of water and went back to set it on the coffee table that was next to the couch that he was laid on. "Venti...I have to tell you something important and that is that I am....Pregnant.."

right as you said that the whole room fell silent, even his hiccups stopped as if he got scared (LOL) "Is that true, love..." that was what broke the silence you nodded as you looked down at the glass of water on the table. "I'M SO HAPPY!!!! COME HERE!!" He said as he ran to you and wrapped his arms around you tight but gentle.

you kinda felt bad that this was a prank but you went along with it......little did you know that you were gonna actually be pregnant (LOL) I mean once you found out as your tummy (Yes I used tummy...It's cute, lol) was getting bigger and you where feeling sick as well kicks from inside.

Venti was over the moon and would not stop talking to them and would always want to have his hand on your stomach because it makes him feel happy .. but before you knew you were pregnant you ended up telling Venti right after he was done hugging you that it was a prank.

His smile left so fast but he managed to smile again as an idea popped in his head.....yeah that's why you later found out you were pregnant.....he def did that nasty with ya (LOL😅)

-------------(^o^)--r ' ' ' <-----------------------------------> <------------->

Diluc

Diluc was about finished with drying some of the wine glasses and you were getting bored, well that was until Kaeya came up with a stupid prank (🤡) The prank was that you tell Diluc that you were pregnant but he wasn't the father but instead it was Kaeya.

(Stupid right) Well you decided to do it and the fact that you guys have been doing the nasty a bit more often (Idk why..make a reason why) which made it much more likely for you to be pregnant ...right? Well anyway you called Diluc over and started the prank as Kaeya watched from a bit away.

"I have something important to tell you...." Diluc looked your way as he placed a wine glass down and made eye contact giving you his full attention to you.

"Well, to put it out bluntly...i'm pregnant..." you said taking a quick look at Kaeya to which he moved his hand in a swaying way gesturing for you to continue on with the prank, you looked back at Diluc who was wide eyed and frozen like a statue. "When did...you find out?..." Diluc's voice was soft and quite.

"Not to long ago.....but there something else that you need to know....." Kaeya smirking in the background waiting patently for the surprise, Diluc raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms looking at you and completely forgetting his brothers presence. He was a bit shocked but he had to have seen it coming from all the intimacy you guys have been doing but you had something else to say...did you not want the unborn child?

Did you want to leave him and keep the child?....Or.......was the child.....not his.

That was something he did not want, nor did he want to lose you, of course he'd respect your decisions about the child but....."You are not the father.."

Those words seem to replay over a thousand times in his head before anger took over then sadness. "th-then who is" He forced himself to ask a question he might have not wanted to know..but still he feels like he has some rights to know..right?

You looked over at Kaeya once more not really wanting to continue, all he did was smile and wave you to continue. "....it's someone you know....." You wanted to just get it over with but you couldn't say his name. Diluc was now anxious, it was someone he knew...but who would do something like that- "Someone I know...who?" He asked again this time wanting the answer clear and hoping that it was just a prank...tho he would scold you about this one if it was a prank(which it is) "It's.....Kaeya..."

Diluc was angry but did not show it, he didn't want to do anything in front of you but.....it was a bad time for Kaeya to be right behind him. He turned and was met with a smirking Kaeya (Btw background, they both liked you and ended up competing for your love and you ended up choosing Diluc) Diluc stared at him for a while before he said. "Step outside....we need to talk..."

was all he said before he started to head to the doors but before he got outside you grabbed his arm and told him the truth. "HAHA you fell for it!! I'm not pregnant and I wouldn't cheat on you with some one eye'd flirt boy!! how rude of you to think i'll go out with him!😅" You said trying to sound happy funny tone, you saw that Diluc let out a sigh of relief.

He was happy to know that it was just a prank but he ended up telling you how that wasn't very funny and whoever came up with it must have been as dumb as Kaeya (Oh wait..it was Kaeya...no hate to him, lol)

Oh yeah Kaeya def got offended by the nickname you gave him.

<----------> <--------->(~_~;)/no good <-------> <--------> <----------> <-->

Xiao

You were cooking one of your boyfriends favorite foods and you were also thinking on how to prank him, something that would make him shocked and hopefully not angry. As you grabbed a plate to put the food in an idea popped in your head as you said "Perfect".

How about you prank him by faking that you're pregnant, smirking at your prank you quickly made a plate of the food and sat it down on the table. After setting the plate of food down you walked over to the balcony that overlooked Liyue, breathing in the fresh air you softly smiled before you spoke his name.

"Xiao you little bitc-" (JK u just called his name🙏) after you said that only moments later he arrived right in front of you, he just stared at you for a bit before he smelled the food, you noticed that and said. "Oh yeah I cooked some of your favorite....it's on the table"

He nodded and started to head in you fallowed behind him. His eyes lit up once he saw what you had made for him, he sat down and thanked you before he started eating.

"I have something to tell you......i'm pregnant.."

He stopped eating and almost chocked, his eyes wide and his mouth full of food. He slightly looked over at you before he chewed the food in his mouth and swallowed it. "what do you mean?..."

you smiled seeing as your plan is working out, you went over to him and grabbed one of his hands and placed it on you stomach and placing yours on top of his, a slight shade of red covered his face...."I...I...I have to go.."

he said before he vanished....surprised and kinda disappointed that you didn't even get to say sike and that it was all a prank.....You sighed walking back to the balcony.

"It was a prank....i'm not pregna-" he reappeared but this time he just picked you up and took you to your shared bedroom........UM!!!....yes he was kinda disappointed that you were lying but he was also kinda token aback and didn't know if he was ready or not, he didn't want anything bad to happen to you and the baby if you were pregnant......but now he made his mind up 😏..(yes and quick)

(JKJK PLZ DON'T KILL ME)

----------------------------------------(UvU)// yay--------------------------

YESIR PLZ you were the first person to ask!!😭 THANK YOU!!! SO MUCH!! I'll literally write anything 😎

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Anael Prompt Response

Summary: Anael is not happy that you've agreed to help the Winchesters with their far-fetched plan to destroy Chuck via Jack. She reluctantly accompanies you to the Bunker and this sets events in motion that prompt a conversation between you and Dean on just why the angel is so important to you.

Pairing: Anael x Female!Reader; Anael x Huntress!Female!Reader; past-ish Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I really wanted to play with this sort of triangle dynamic that popped up while I was writing. This is still an Anael x Reader one shot/prompt response but Dean's my boy and I really loved the backstory that developed between him and the reader which then led to Anael. Hope it all came together okay.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

There will be a note at the end.

Warnings: guns; implied threats of violence/killing; mentions of sex; torture; death; angst

Word Count: 10k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Anael Taglist: @nancymcl; @brightlilith

You can also read on AO3

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ SDV Alex version

You glanced to your right and rolled your eyes when you saw the angel who was currently sitting in your passenger seat, still fuming. You turned back to the road and gently tapped the steering wheel, wondering what you could say to get her to let this go. In the end, you decided to just be direct.

“Are you still upset about this?”

“Are you still going through with this ridiculous plan?” She snapped.

You bit your lip to keep from sighing in aggravation like you wanted to. You knew if she heard you do that, she’d never let up. “It’s not a bad plan…”

“Oh, yeah. Not a bad plan. Just have God’s sister trap him in the Winchesters’ basement. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to wait for the weapon that will kill him to arrive.”

You nearly winced at her biting sarcasm. She had a point; this wasn’t the best plan and it was definitely a long shot but it was all any of you had. Sam and Dean had asked for your help and you were determined to give it to them, no matter what might happen. They always had your back when you needed it. You were going to return the favor — pissed off angel alongside you or not. Not to mention if this didn’t succeed then the world was literally going to be over. You all had to try.

“Look, it’s not exactly the most…sound plan but it’s the best we’ve got. We have to do something, Ana. If we don’t, then it’s lights out. That’s it.”

“We,” she scoffed, turning to glare out the window with her arms crossed. 

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel at the same time your jaw clenched. “Don’t do that.”

She turned back to you. “Are you really going to pretend that he doesn’t have something to do with this suicidal decision you’ve made?”

You kept your eyes focused on the road. “He does.” After her huff, you added unapologetically, “He will always matter to me. Even if the world wasn’t on the line, I would still be there if he asked me. He would do the same for me. That’s how it’s always going to be between us.”

A moment of tense silence passed before she spit at you, “Then you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.” She looked out the window again and you turned up the music, pressing your foot further down on the gas. The sooner you got to your destination the better.

You opened up the bunker door, allowing Ana to walk inside first. She hadn’t said another word to you for the rest of the car ride (something unusual for her), and barely even looked at you. You knew she was furious, at everything from this plan to what you’d said earlier, but it couldn’t be helped. 

When you followed her, shutting the door behind you, and both of you came to a stop at the railing, glancing down, you didn’t know what you had expected to see. It certainly hadn’t been Jack Kline standing in the map room, staring up at you, with a hand raised. “Hello.”

You and Ana briefly glanced at each other and you gave the boy a nod. “Uh, hey Jack. Sam and Dean here?”

He shook his head. “They had a last minute case come up. Something about an old friend asking for help, I think.”

“Ironic,” Ana quipped.

Jack furrowed his brows at her, not understanding her meaning, while you shot her a look. Of course, she just smirked at you in response and you could feel your body tensing in the same aggravation you’d felt in the car. “Is Cas here?” You asked instead.

Jack went to speak when you heard, “I’m here,” before a familiar dark-haired man walked into the room. It had been a while since you’d seen him but he still looked the same. He was still wearing the trenchcoat and the suit, no matter how many times Dean tried to get him to change up his wardrobe.

“Hey, Cas.”

He gave you a nod of greeting before turning a small relieved smile on Ana. “Anael, you’ve decided to help us in this fight after all.”

“Don’t get too excited, Castiel. I’m only here because it turns out she’s just as smart as the Winchesters.” She gestured towards you.

You gritted your teeth. “Ana…”

She gave you that smile she always gave you when she knew she was getting on your last nerve.

Cas glanced back and forth between you, a sudden realization of something beginning to dawn on his features. Jack still looked somewhat confused but also curious. 

You cleared your throat. “So, any idea when the boys will be back?”

“Soon. I believe they just wrapped up their case and they’re headed back. They should be here by nightfall,” Cas supplied.

You gave him a wan smile as he appeared to study you intently. “Well, I’m starved. Got any food in that big kitchen of yours?”

“We have a lot of food,” Jack offered, trying to be helpful. “Sam went shopping the other day.”

“Great,” you responded with a little too much enthusiasm. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” You ignored Ana watching you in disapproval and Cas’ penetrative gaze as you descended the steps and followed Jack to said kitchen. Let Ana deal with whatever thoughts Cas might put voice to — you’d had enough angel judgment for one day.

You and Jack were just putting the finishing touches on shepherd’s pie (the only thing you knew how to make outside of eggs and grilled cheese if you were being honest) when Sam and Dean returned home. 

You had spent most of the day avoiding Cas and thankfully, when Ana joined you in the kitchen, she chose to relegate any commentary she made to your cooking skills (or lack thereof) alone. There was tension thick in the air but whether it had to do with what was going on in the background, Ana’s animosity towards you, or a mixture of both, you had no idea. Cas had eventually strode into the room, curious and happy to watch you teach Jack how to make the one dish your Grams had taught you to make. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile when Jack asked you why it was called shepherd’s pie if the recipe didn’t come from any shepherds. Despite his questions, Jack seemed to be enjoying himself, learning something new and taking his mind off of what was coming. You felt badly for the kid; he was going to sacrifice himself to save the world. You couldn’t even imagine the weight of that burden on his young shoulders, Nephilim or not. So you were happy to provide a little distraction for him as well as yourself.

“Cas? Jack?” You heard Sam call.

“We’re back,” Dean added.

Cas was immediately on his feet, looking towards Ana and then you, before hurrying out of the room. You had to wonder what that was all about. It wasn’t as if the brothers weren’t expecting you. Plus, you were pretty sure Cas must have texted or called them to give them a heads up that you were here.

Ana turned back to you, her jaw tight and giving you a look. You rolled your eyes and helped Jack get out a stack of plates to set the table with. When you were done, you noticed Ana had stood up and moved away from the two of you, creating distance. Your own jaw clenched when you saw it. Why did she have to be so difficult sometimes?

“No plate for you?” You threw at her, knowing very well she wasn’t going to eat since she didn’t need to.

“Not just yet.”

Your brow creased in confusion. What was that response?

You didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Dean and Sam rushed into the room, with Cas right behind them. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Jo?” Dean boomed, heading right for Ana and carrying an angel blade. 

“Dean,” Cas called, trying to get in front of him.

You watched as Ana raised her hand and sent both Winchesters flying backward, knocking them on their asses, and more importantly, the blade out of Dean’s hand.

“Anael,” Cas warned.

“I’m just supposed to allow them to kill me, Castiel? I don’t think so.”

You were torn. You wanted to rush over to the boys, make sure they were alright, but another part of you was telling you that you needed to get closer to Ana. What if she was right and Dean had really meant to kill her just then?

Both Winchesters were already up, Dean glaring at Ana. “You almost got us killed! Sending us to Hell on that wild goose chase! Hell, you almost got Cas killed!”

“He had to go to The Empty to ask Ruby where the Occultem was!” Sam added, thrusting a finger at her. “He almost didn’t make it back!”

“You’re Jo?” Jack asked, his expression hardening. “I thought your name was Anael.”

Ana didn’t spare him a glance. “That’s my angel name. Sister Jo is my brand, you could say.”

“Occultem?” You whispered, not ever having heard of it before though you tried racking your brains. 

Ana flashed you a look, silently telling you she would fill you in later, before resting her eyes on the two men again. “That was a priceless item. You didn’t really expect me to give it up so easily for your little war with God, did you?” Her brown eyes narrowed. “No matter how much better looking than him you might be.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head and turned onto Dean who still hadn’t noticed your presence yet. He was glaring straight at Ana and you noticed the blade was back in his hand. When had you missed him picking it back up? 

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said in an all-too familiar menacing tone, before he began moving forward again, Sam right behind him with his own angel blade. Cas tried to put up a placating hand but he was ignored. Jack watched as it all happened, glowering in Ana’s direction now, not making a move to stop his dads. Your brain shut off and before you knew it, you were in front of Ana, gun raised.

Dean stopped short, his eyes slightly widening as he finally saw you. Sam’s did, too. You were sure they highly doubted you would be on opposite sides over an angel, with a gun pointed at them no less. 

“Put the blades down,” you ordered.

You watched as Dean’s green eyes briefly softened upon hearing you speak but then hardened again when he realized you meant business. Something was now layering his expression that looked an awful lot like betrayal. “You’re protecting her?” He asked in disbelief. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You could feel Ana right behind you, her energy filling the air. She was charged up and you felt a familiar static electricity feeling at your back. You wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes were doing their usual glowing trick right about now. 

“This is what I was trying to tell you before you two charged in here.” Cas stood next to Dean, looking at him and Sam.

“Tell us what?” Dean demanded.

“She’s with me.” All three glanced over at you, Cas giving a subtle nod as he dropped his gaze. Sam wasn’t sure what to make of it but you noticed him starting to lower the blade in his hand. Dean kept glaring between you and Ana over your shoulder. Only when Cas urged him with a quiet “Dean”, nodding towards the blade in his hand, did he finally put it down. “You’ve gotta be freaking’ kidding me,” he growled before storming out of the room. Cas briefly glanced over at you before following him. Jack, who now scowled in your direction as well as Ana’s, slowly left the room. You lowered your gun, disappointment starting to swell in your chest. So much for a nice, quiet family dinner then.

Only Sam was left and he looked torn between wanting to follow his family and coming over to give you a hug like he normally would. You made it easy for him. “It’s okay, Sam. I understand. Go.”

He pressed his lips together, giving you a sad look, before he nodded and left the room as well.

You let out a heavy breath and hung your head. The Winchesters were the only family you had left and now…it looked like they were gone, too.

You felt a hand gently lay on your shoulder, the electric charge from before gone, and you slowly lifted your head. “We should go,” you whispered after a minute. Ana let you go and you turned to throw on your jacket, sling your bag over your shoulder, and then you led her out of the room. You kept your gun handy in case it wasn’t just a straight pass to the stairs. Thankfully, it was and a piece of your heart broke that Dean hadn’t even given you a chance to explain before he’d written you off for good.

You kept your eyes on the road as headlights repeatedly washed over you from passing cars in the opposite lane. It was deathly quiet, you having chosen not to turn on the radio. Your thoughts kept going back to the betrayal you’d seen in Dean’s face when he realized you weren’t going to let him get to the angel standing behind you. While Ana wasn’t Cas, didn’t he understand how things like this worked by now? Even when you’d been together for a period of time, you’d bore witness to his profound bond with Cas playing out repeatedly. You’d seen Cas’ effect on Dean and vice versa, today even. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

You heard Ana’s quiet words that seemed to be laced with a shocking mix of surprise and what sounded like awe. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before when you two fought side by side. “Do what?” You decided you’d rather play dumb than talk about the elephant sitting between you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the red-headed angel giving you a look. “Don’t. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk for me.” She knew what it cost you and how badly it was tearing you up inside. And to think she had been worried about Chuck, the plan, Jack, and even Dean, though for a whole other reason on that last one. 

You shrugged. “That’s what we do. It’s what you’ve done for me. Why wouldn’t I?”

You turned in time to see the surprise you’d heard earlier now taking up residence in her expression. It was a fleeting glimpse you caught right before she schooled her features and focused on the highway instead.

You did the same and you finally spoke the question that had been burning your tongue for the last hour into existence. “So, are you going to tell me about the Occultem and why they’re pissed at you enough to want to kill you? I sort of got an idea from earlier but I want to hear it from you.”

You heard a familiar scoff and if you weren’t so torn up inside, you might have smiled. It was nice to hear her annoyance not aimed at you for once this entire day. “They ambushed me at my place of business, threatened me, and then expected me to hand them the Occultem on a silver platter. Just like that. That’s what happened.”

“I think there’s a little more to it than that, Ana.” You glanced over at her. “Start from the beginning.” When she narrowed her eyes in your direction, you spoke before she could. “You owe me that at the very least,” you muttered.

You turned back to the road and you weren’t sure if she saw the pain you were feeling (most likely since she always seemed to be able to see right through you; it was annoying most of the time), but she agreed. “Fine.”

You swallowed down the lump that had formed in your throat at the thought track repeating in your head of “You’re protecting her? What the hell, Y/N?” and the images of Dean’s back as he walked away from you. You were happy to focus on something else and Ana’s voice actually began to soothe you as it filled the car. 

You didn’t know how but somehow you knew everything was going to work out, Chuck ending the world or not.

You heard a familiar rumbling outside your motel room door and you quickly glanced in Ana’s direction. She looked up at you from her chair, money in her hands that she had been counting from her last service, and you gave her a nod. You threw your jacket on, keeping the gun in your pocket and easy to reach just in case. “Be careful,” you murmured.

“You first.”

You pressed your lips together and turned back to the door. You took a deep breath before you opened it and stepped out, seeing Dean shutting the car door and meeting your eyes. He didn’t appear to be armed and he was alone as he’d claimed he would be when he called you earlier, asking where you were so you two could talk. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it wasn’t a trap, which you absolutely hated thinking, but after Ana told you what she’d done to them and their reaction to her earlier…well, you could see why they weren’t exactly thrilled with her. And if they didn’t try to hurt her, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t do a blood sigil and banish her to someplace far away from you. You were on high alert for any possibility. 

“Hey,” he gruffed out.

“Hey.” You shut the door behind you and stuffed your hands in your pockets.

You didn’t see any traces of the betrayal or hurt or anger that you’d seen earlier so that was a good sign. His green eyes were no longer hard when they focused on you. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“I can’t. Have to stay close.” You gestured back to the room. It was something Ana had asked you to do when you went over possible contingencies after Dean’s call but she hadn’t needed to; you already planned to stay within running distance if you needed to get back right away.  

Dean’s jaw clenched when he looked towards the room. “So, she’s got you on a short leash, huh?”

You huffed a snort, shaking your head. “Goodbye, Dean.” You began to turn back to the room, thinking this had been a colossal waste of time which just broke your heart further.

“Y/N, wait! I— I’m sorry.” 

You spun back around to face him, glaring.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you bit out.

Dean licked his lips and momentarily moved his gaze around until he settled on something to his left. “What about over there? Is that close enough?”

You glanced where he was inclining his head towards. Across the parking lot sat what looked to be a makeshift pergola gazebo or something they’d tried to make into one anyway. A wooden picnic table sat under it and there were some lights haphazardly hung on the edges up top, snaking around the thin posts. You gave him a nod of agreement, it was private enough but still kept you close. 

You waited for him to start walking and as you followed, you glanced around, making sure no one was trying to sneak their way up to your door or that there were any warning signs of an impending ambush. “Looks clear,” you mentally prayed to Ana. “But keep your guard up.” For a moment, you wished you also had the angelic super hearing she had or the ability to tune into Angel Radio to be able to hear her back.

Dean took a seat on the table and you did the same, keeping some distance between you. He noticed it and his jaw clenched again. “Really? You’re that pissed at me?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you thought it over, and then you moved slightly closer. 

He let out a snort. “Didn’t realize that much had changed between us.”

You stared out over the highway. “It did.”

Dean studied you for a moment and then followed suit. “Yeah, well, probably for the best.” 

You could feel a familiar stinging in the corner of your eyes. Dean always had the ability of using words to hit you where it hurt the most. “Probably.”

There was a moment of tense silence between you before he spoke again. “Cas mentioned things might be different now…for you.”

You shrugged but didn’t respond. At this point, you just wanted him to spit out what he came to say and leave. Which was indeed different from how you usually felt about getting alone time with him, but he was being a dick.

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he turned to look at you. “I’m not trying to be a dick, Y/N. I’m really not. But all this time and you never told me once that you had an angel riding shotgun with you? The same angel who tricked us and took Lucifer’s side, and then tricked us again and almost got us all killed?”

You looked over at him with a scoff. “When was I supposed to tell you, Dean? In between Chuck trying to end the world and you helping with Jack’s powering up regimen so he can take him down? Or during Michael’s mindwalk inside your head? When was I supposed to tell you? We never talk anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he argued.

You got to your feet, glaring at him. “Yes, it is! The only time I hear from you is when you need something.” You ignored Dean’s angry expression and continued. “When you need help for a case, information, whatever it is. That is the only time I hear from you!”

“Yeah, well, it’s a two-way street. When was the last time you called just to check in? Tell us how you’re doing? When?”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “You told me we were done, Dean! Right after Michael possessed you the first time. You remember that?”

Now he was on his feet, too, scowling at you. “Me saying we were done didn’t mean we were out of each other’s lives forever! If I didn’t call you about hunts or Sam didn’t call you to ask you to keep an eye out for something wherever you were, we wouldn’t even know you were still alive!” 

That last word made you wince. You tried to hide it but Dean saw it. He let out a breath and the next time he spoke, he was no longer yelling. “You can blame me all you want, Y/N, but you didn’t tell Sam, either.”

“There was nothing to tell,” you mumbled, sitting back down on the table, refusing to look at him.

He gave you a look before sitting back down next to you, closer than before. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight. I want to clear the air. You’ve never pulled a gun on me before.”

You arched your brows over at him. You had done it quite a few times over the years, when he was a demon being the most recent.

“Not on me,” he clarified. 

You turned back to the road but didn’t say a word.

He laid a gentle hand on your knee. “I want us to be good, Y/N. You’re family…and you’re still important to me.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain. It had always been a tough balancing act, straddling the line of family and you and Dean being something more to one another. Even before you got together and made it official. Even back when you were teenagers. But ever since he put an end to your relationship, it had become almost impossible for you to continue doing. But he was right…you both were still family, and you didn’t want him shut out of your life. You had been broken-hearted at the thought of it not a mere hour ago before he’d called.

You covered his hand with yours. “I know. You’re still important to me, too, and you’re right, we’re family.”  

Dean's eyes were transfixed on your hands until he glanced up at you, his eyes softer than before.

You squeezed his hand. “We’re good.” You gave him a nod and let him go, waiting a moment before you added, “As long as you leave Ana alone.”

He shot you a look but you never glanced away. He needed to know you meant it.

Dean sighed, studying you. “For now,” he agreed. 

“Dean, that’s—”

“That’s all you’re getting out of me.” He rubbed his thumb over your knee. “Unless you tell me what happened.”

You dropped your gaze to your lap. “Why do you want to know about that? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Because,” Your eyes lifted to his, hearing the breaks in his voice. “I need to know why Cas sees the claim she has on your soul.”

Crap. You should have known from how Cas was studying you since you’d set foot in the Bunker. “It’s not what you think,” you started.

“Then what is it? Because it looks to me like she tricked you into selling your soul to her.”

You moved your knee from under his hand and pulled away. “That’s not what happened. She didn’t trick me.”

“Then what did happen?” He cupped your cheeks and forced you to look at him. “Y/N, talk to me,” he implored. “I need to know what’s going on.”

You thought it over for a moment, realizing you really didn’t have a way around this, now that Dean knew. And truthfully, you didn’t really want one, though you still felt the heavy weight of shame wrapped around you, something you knew would be even heavier by the time you finished explaining. 

You grabbed his hand and turned to kiss his wrist before getting to your feet. Dean let you go and you took a few steps away, your arms crossed and your back to him, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember the witch who killed my family?”

“Yeah, back in Phoenix. Dad tried to track her down after but couldn’t. Why?”

You pressed your lips together. “I found her.” You didn’t need to turn around to know Dean was frozen in shock. “I came across her during another case.”

Dean was in front of you before you could blink. “Please tell me you didn’t take her on alone.”

You stared at him, saying nothing.

“Dammit, Y/N! You should have called us! What the hell were you thinking?”

 “I was thinking the bitch had killed my family and I wanted her dead.”

He shook his head, angry at you as you knew he would be. “But you don’t go it alone! We’ve talked about this. Never alone!”

“Yeah, I know and you’re right, alright? But I’m standing here in front of you now so do you want me to finish the story or not?” You snapped.

His jaw clenched and he glared at you but remained quiet.

You let out an aggravated breath. “I didn’t have time to call anyone else. I didn’t want her to escape and be in the wind again so the hunter I was with at the time, Carrie, she and I went after her.” Dean briefly closed his eyes but kept his gaze on you. “She had a pack of werewolves she was working with and she set them on me. I killed a few but there were too many. They ripped me apart. Carrie, too.” You felt a lump begin to form in your throat at the thought of the hunter you’d gotten killed but you swallowed it back down. “They were about to finish me off when two other hunters showed up. Carrie thought we might be going into a trap so she called them while I was gearing up. There were still too many werewolves but they managed to get us out of there. They drove us straight to this church in the next town where a faith healer had set up shop. The rumor going around the hunter community at that time was that this healer might actually be an angel, one of the fallen.” Your eyes began to well up. “Carrie didn’t make it.”

Dean briefly dropped his gaze down to the ground.

“I almost didn’t and honestly, I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Ana. She healed me.” You nearly winced thinking about the next part you would have to tell him. “Once I was up and moving around again, I didn’t want the witch to disappear and she already had a hell of a head start so I asked Rick, one of the hunters that helped us, if he knew of a crossroads in town.”

You saw Dean’s lips part in shock and then his eyes hardened. “Are you kidding me? After everything Sam and I told you, after everything you saw happen with my deal, you still—”

“You didn’t hear the screams my sister made when she was dying, Dean!” He pressed his lips into a thin line but didn’t say anything to that. How could he? Sure, he’d seen people die in some of the worst ways imaginable since becoming a hunter, but he also saw the nightmares you had for years afterwards. They all had.

Dean had held you as you shook in terror, crying into his neck as he tried to assure you that you were safe. There were many nights your cries had woken Sam up as well and he’d slip into Dean’s bed, laying his head on your back and hugging you from behind while you sobbed and his brother whispered reassurances to you. If John was around when the nightmares happened, he’d keep quiet while his sons comforted you but the next morning, he’d let you pick the music you wanted to hear and would offer you to ride shotgun if you wanted. You would choose Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin tape every time and sit in the back, opting to let Sam take the front. Dean would hold your hand and rub tender circles into your skin while you stared out the back window of the Impala until you would get sleepy and rest your head on his shoulder. Dean, Sam, John — none of them could keep the nightmares away, but they made you feel safe again after you’d lost your family. They became your family and John trained you to become a hunter just like his boys.

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. “She was only six years old!” You had to watch as the witch had liquefied her insides, causing as much pain and torment as possible. You’d not only heard her painful screams but the terrified yells of your mother as she also witnessed your sister’s death before the witch moved onto your older brother. John got there in time to save you, the last one left; you’d had to watch and hear them all die — your parents, your siblings — helpless to do anything since you were magically bound. “I would have done anything to get that bitch and make sure she never hurt anyone else ever again.”

Dean’s fist clenched at his side but he nodded. He understood; you knew he did.

“As it turns out, I didn’t get that far. Ana overheard our conversation. Rick was trying to talk me out of it but I was insistent. She pulled me to the side and told me that if I was going to throw my life away to go after the hag, then she had a one-time offer for me. She offered me the same deal a crossroads demon would have: my soul for the witch. But instead of ten years, there would be no ticking clock over my head, no monsters from Hell would come to drag me down to the pit, and once I died, whenever that would be, my soul would belong to her and her alone. No Heaven, no Hell, just hers, to do with as she wished.”

“Y/N,” Dean let out in a broken whisper. You could see this was killing him but you had to finish explaining, make him understand. As ashamed as you were, you still wanted him to know the truth.

“I took it, Dean.”

A tear dropped down his cheek and you fought every impulse you had to reach over and wipe it away.

“And she kept her part of the bargain. She packed up and traveled with us to where the witch was hiding out. We caught them off guard. Rick and Layla finished off the rest of the werewolf pack and Ana stayed with me. The witch used some sort of spell to banish Ana and then it was just me and her.” You knew this next part was going to hurt him but you had to say it. “She killed me, Dean.”

He stared at you in horror.

“The same way she killed my family. I felt everything they did.” You were looking through Dean now, awash in memories. “You see, she recognized me and she decided to finish me off the same way she did them. I heard her laughing in the background while she... The pain alone…” You came back to yourself with a jolt, realizing you were no longer in that place, writhing in agony on the floor as your insides burned and turned to liquid, blood pouring from your eyes, nose, and mouth as you screamed and screamed. “The next thing I remember, Ana was crouching over me. She had healed my body and put my soul back inside.” You whispered the last part in awe. That part of the story still inspired wonder for you, even now. 

“She had overpowered the witch somehow when she was able to get back to us. Ana left her for me to deal with and deal with her, I did.” You clenched and unclenched your jaw at the memory of the bitch’s screams of agony before you finished her off. You made sure she felt everything your family did, everything you had, and Ana had been more than willing to help you.

“You died?” Dean choked out.

You glanced up at him and noticed the devastation in his expression, his eyes still wet. “For only a few minutes,” you tried to reassure him. He didn’t need to know that it had been a little longer than that. You could see how torn up he was already now that he knew what happened to you. “The witch’s spell wasn’t as effective as an angel banishing sigil so Ana was able to come back pretty quickly.”

You watched as he reached for you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him. His lips were on yours before you could react and you let him kiss you, feeling his desperation, knowing he was reassuring himself that you were okay, here in his arms, alive. When he finally broke away from you, he gently grasped your arms and laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “I should’ve never let you go,” he whispered. “I was only trying to keep you safe, I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “Dean, what are you talking about?”

He sighed and pressed a tender kiss to your nose before lifting his head. “When Michael let me go the first time, I was scared he was going to come after everybody I cared about so I…” You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I ended it between us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Why would you do that? I could have helped you track him down!”

“Because I wanted you safe!” He yelled in exasperation. “I didn’t know what Michael was gonna do, okay? I didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire!”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me!” You argued.

“Yeah, I do, because I love you, goddammit!” He looked just as surprised as you felt by his accidental admission.

His words hit you like a semi on a slippery freeway. A part of you wanted to respond and the other part…the other part wanted to skip right past it as if it had never been said. Especially when you thought back to the heartbreak you’d felt when he coldly told you that you were done and he needed some space, implying you needed to leave the Bunker asap. No explanation, no goodbye, just…done.

The lump was back in your throat again, forcing you to swallow it back down. “Yeah, well, that still doesn’t give you the right to do what you did.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him, back towards the motel, so he wouldn’t see the tears building in your eyes at his declaration that you would have given anything to hear more than a year ago. You saw the Impala still parked where Dean had left it and you remembered it was facing your room and who was in that room. Too little, too late now.    

You felt Dean’s fingers gently grip your chin and turn your head back towards him. His green eyes were glistening, full of a deep sadness you’d only seen before when he talked about his mom and their family back in the day or when he’d finally managed to tell you about his time with Lisa and Ben. “And it didn’t keep you all that safe, did it?” The corners of his lips tipped up in a remorseful smile.

You watched him for a moment and then lifted up on your toes, gripping his face to kiss him. You put everything you felt for him into it, not wanting him to ever doubt just how much of a hold he still had on your heart. When you pulled back, you looked into his eyes and spoke truly. “I love you, Dean. I’m always going to love you. You’re the love of my life.” His eyes softened at your words. “But things are different now. I’m different. And things will never be as they were before.” You ran your thumb tenderly over his lips before stepping back, putting more distance between you. 

You saw as he tried to recover from what you’d said, nodding and turning from you to run a hand down his face, effectively wiping away the wetness from his stubbled cheeks. You heard a quiet sniffle and gave him a moment. 

“And, uh,” You glanced up at him. “What about your soul? Cas said you still have her mark. Are you still stuck in some deal?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not technically. It’s there as more of a failsafe.”

“Failsafe?”

“In case something happens to me, then my soul goes to her. Just like it did the last time.”

“And what if something happens to her?”

You frowned, not liking that possibility being voiced, especially given the current circumstances. Plus, you wouldn’t put it past Dean to be thinking over options to free you. “Then the mark disappears. But then it’s anybody’s game.”

“But you’d be free,” he insisted.

Your jaw clenched and you lifted your chin defiantly. You knew it; you knew Dean and the way he thought way too well. You’d been trained together and hunted together for years, after all. “I don’t want to be free. Not the way you’re implying.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want to be free?”

“You have Cas. You should understand.”

“Cas doesn’t own my soul, Y/N. That’s completely different.”

“Is it?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d say it is.”

He obviously didn’t get your meaning, or he was trying hard not to. You decided to let it go. “We may not have the profound bond that you and Cas do, but what we have works for us. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He scrubbed at his jaw, staring at you, before closing the distance between you again. This time you expected it when he kissed you and you held onto his jacket, kissing him back. You hadn’t lied before; he was the love of your life, deep within your heart, and he always would be. “If you ever want out of this, you call me,” he whispered. 

You nodded, closing your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you again. You knew you wouldn’t be making that call but you knew he would refuse to let you go unless you gave him that reassurance. He rubbed his nose along yours and you nearly smiled at the memory it produced from when you two used to make out as teenagers.

“What about the plan for Chuck? And Amara? Do you still want my help with that?”

“No, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I want you as far from here as you can get. Just in case things go South.”

You stared up at him sadly. “Dean, I know you and Ana have history but she’s only there to protect me. We could help.”

“That’s not it. If this plan doesn’t work, with Jack, then we’re all screwed.”

You tugged at his jacket with your hands. “Which is why you can use all the help you can get.”

“Y/N, you can’t help on this one.” You were about to protest when he spoke again. “Not this time.”

“Then why did you call me?”

He gave you a sad smile and you felt his arms tighten around you. ‘Why do you think?”

Memories flashed through the forefront of your mind: 

…“Blaze of Glory” by Bon Jovi playing in the background of the Impala and Dean singing it into your ear as you fell asleep on his shoulder in the backseat,

…Conversations with him and Sam about how you all would like to go out fighting if you had a choice on how you’d die as a hunter,

…Dean holding your bare body to his in the bed of a motel room that he’d been able to secure after a few successful games of Pool while John was on a hunt, with Sam in the next room and you two having just lost your virginities to each other, murmuring how he wanted to keep you with him always, believing that you’d fallen asleep,

…Him cuddling up to you in the Dean Cave during a western you’d seen a thousand times (because it was one of his favorites) and him telling you that he and Sam would be Butch and Sundance but you would be Etta Place which would cause you to frown and him to then grumble that you could be his Sundance which would earn him a kiss on the cheek while Sam rolled his eyes.

You knew right then that he didn’t fully believe Billie’s plan would work, though he hoped it would. Which meant you might never see him again. Because there was no way Chuck wouldn’t be pissed at the attempt and come right after him and Sam.

Your vision began to blur with the building tears and you gave him your own sad smile. “And now you’re sending me away? Again? That’s not how it’s supposed to go. Remember?”

He wiped your cheeks with both thumbs. “You said it yourself, sweetheart, things are different now. Besides, Sam and I talked it over before I came out here. He agrees. We both want you somewhere safe.”

“So you’re making me Etta Place again?” You choked out.

 “Baby,” A tear made its way down his cheek. “You were never supposed to be anyone else.”

You sobbed out a laugh and hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go. “You could come with us. You and Sam and Cas and Jack. You could leave this all behind and come with us. Just as long as you don’t pick Bolivia.”

He chuckled into your ear. “I wish I could, sweetheart. Chuck would find us wherever we tried to go. Billie’s plan is the best we’ve got. We’re going to see it through. And the only way I can do that,” He pulled back from you and held onto your arms, rubbing soothing circles into them with his thumbs. “Is if I know you’re far away from here. She’s another dick angel in my book and I don’t trust her, but if she’ll keep you safe, then that’s all I care about right now.”

You nodded and sniffled. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

He framed your face with his hands and shook his head. 

More tears spilled down your cheeks. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Always have,” He pulled you into an embrace and kissed the side of your head. “Always will.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that for but he held you until the tears finally stopped flowing. You were ashamed at how easily you had been willing to dismiss him from your life after he had broken your heart, after he’d threatened Ana, and now you might never see him again. Your heart literally felt torn in two. A part of you wanted to go with him, no matter how he or Ana might protest, no matter if you ended up dying, but the other part wanted to give him what he asked for. So he could have peace of mind and be able to focus on the plan if for nothing else.   

You had loved Dean Winchester since you were ten years old. You knew in that moment, just as you did back then and all of the time between, that you would love him for the rest of your life, however long that might be. He would always have a piece of your heart, even if your soul belonged to somebody else.  

You watched as Dean backed Baby out of her spot in front of your room and you gave him a wave. He’d wiped away your tears, kissed you goodbye one last time, and told you to haul ass out of Kansas by morning. He’d promised to call you the following evening with an update. 

Once he was speeding down the road out of sight, you opened the door, letting out a breath of relief to see Ana still sitting where you’d left her. You knew Dean didn’t mean her any harm at the moment, but you weren’t sure just how much of your goodbye with Dean she’d actually heard. Probably everything, if her stare was anything to go by. 

“I take it you heard everything?”

“I did.” She got to her feet, making her way over to you. “So you still love him, just as I said earlier which you completely denied.”

You gave her a look. “Ana, if you heard everything then you know—”   

“I do.” Her eyes studied your face, most likely seeing the puffiness underneath your bloodshot eyes from crying so much. She reached out a hand and cupped your cheek, tenderly stroking it with her thumb. “I’ll give Castiel one thing, human love is beyond puzzling. I certainly didn’t need a magic 8 ball to know how that little convo was going to go. Despite how much Dean Winchester has hurt you, I was pretty sure for a moment there you were going to get another room and I was going to have to listen to the sounds of two primates mating in the wild.”

You yanked your face away and glared at her. “Stop it, Ana.” You made your way to the bed, roughly unzipping your bag and tossing everything of yours inside. “Dean said we should get out of Kansas as soon as possible. He doesn’t know when the next part of Billie’s plan is kicking off or when Amara is going to show up with Chuck, so it might not be safe to spend the night. We should keep moving.” You felt her hand on your shoulder and you let out an irritated sigh before turning to scowl at her. “What?”

She stared at you for a moment before leaning down to brush her lips over yours. You froze, unsure of what to do. Ana had never done something like this before and even stranger, you could feel yourself responding to it. Just like you had with Dean, though it was different, softer, and lit up a separate part of you inside. You felt yourself attempting to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, leaving you feeling dazed, yearning, guilty, and frustrated — a confusing swirl of emotions.

She smirked down at you, pleased with your reaction and trailed a gentle finger over your lips. “We should be fine here for the night. We can leave in the morning when you’ve gotten some sleep so you can drive. I’ll keep watch.” She turned and walked away, still smirking, and left you watching after her in complete shock.

You shook it off the best you could and went about getting the things you would need for the night out of your bag. Ana was kissing you now? That was new. Could today get any more complicated?

You were submerged in darkness, nothing but pure black everywhere you looked. The last thing you knew you were screaming out in agony, feeling infinite pain, mentally begging for death. Then, nothing. You were just floating along in…nothing.

“Come to me.”

You heard the sweetest voice you had ever heard, calling out to you, and you wanted to go to it but you weren’t sure how. When you attempted to move, you couldn’t. You were frozen in a sea of nothing. 

“Y/N,” the voice called. “Come to me now.” As soothing as that voice had been, you could hear the clear command at the end. You wanted to go but how? 

Suddenly, a shaft of bright blue-white light appeared right in front of you. “Let’s go,” the voice called, sounding much closer and it vibrated off of the blackness surrounding you. The light reached out to you and you somehow reached back. You liked the light, trusted it, and it felt warm when it touched you. Warmth that reminded you of your grandmother’s homemade apple pie fresh out of the oven, Dean and Sam snuggled up against you in the motel rooms you’d stayed in often as children, your mother’s smile as you and your siblings played on the swingset in the backyard, the blanket your father wrapped around you when you were home sick from school, the feeling of Dean’s hand in yours — pure warmth. You felt completely safe and whole, as if nothing bad or painful could get at you here, not while the light was touching you.

“There.” The light pulled you further into it and it was so blindingly beautiful that you felt the urge to cry at the same time that you wanted to smile. “Come to me.” At this final command, you pushed into the light at the same time it pulled you forward and everything went white.

The next second, you were back in your body, staring up at a familiar red-headed woman though her eyes were glowing the same color light you had been moving towards a mere moment ago. Two little dots of the blue-white light focused on you as the angel’s hands rested on your chest, a golden glow emanating from them. 

You blinked and coughed and the lights faded from her eyes as did the glow from her hands. Now very worried looking brown eyes were gazing down at you. “Took you long enough,” she muttered. “How do you feel?”

You coughed again and tried to sit up with her helping you. You suddenly took notice of a familiar face, a face that haunted your dreams every single night, sneering at you, her hands bound by an invisible force, hanging from something unseen. Her lips also appeared to be sealed by that same force. “What…happened?” You rasped out.

“There’s no easy way to say this. You died.”

You turned wide eyes on her. “What? H-How?”

Ana glared over at the witch. “Her.”

You met the witch with your own glare and it all came back to you in a flash: the pain, the torture, the screaming, your family. At that last thought, you slowly got to your feet, Ana helping to steady you. “What’s holding her?”

She smirked over at the old hag. “Me.”

Something occurred to you just then. “Why did you bring me back? You had my soul. You could’ve just walked away with it. No one would’ve been the wiser. So why bring me back?” You were very well aware of how this angel operated. You had been brought to the forefront of her business after all, bleeding and torn up on death’s door. Granted, she hadn’t charged you for saving your life but you weren’t ignorant to the donations she usually collected for her services. 

Her jaw tightened and you could tell she was thinking it over before she turned to answer you. “I’m nothing if not an excellent businesswoman. A deal’s a deal. The witch was alive and you weren’t. That wasn’t the terms of our agreement so I brought you back. I can’t have word getting around that I don’t hold up my end of the deal. It’s not good for business.”

You weren’t quite sure you believed her. Not only because she was an angel (and an angel that charged people money to heal them) but because somehow you just knew that hadn’t been the reason she’d done it. But that was a problem for later. Now, your focus was on the witch. “So, are you going to let her go so I can finally finish her off?”

“Hmm, I don’t really think that’s a good idea, do you? Last time you went toe to toe with her, you died.”

“You weren’t here then as my backup generator. Now, you are.”

“Oh, really, Rocky? That’s what you think I am? A defibrillator? Maybe I should let her go and let you die again. And this time, I won’t bring you back. You would make a nice addition to my collection of beautiful things stored in my Louis Vuitton. You know, they say diamonds are forever but it’s really all about souls this year.”

You both heard the witch trying to yell something but unable due to her invisible gag. “Okay, seriously, we can argue later. Let her go, Ana, I’ve got this.” You picked up the blade that had been thrust out of your hand before the pain and screaming started, and tensed in preparation.

The angel turned to you with brows drawn together. “Ana?”

“Jo then. Now, come on, let’s do this.” You were more than ready to take this bitch down.

“No. I like the sound of Ana. It’s better.”

You glanced at her in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Oh. Right.” She went to wave her hand in the witch’s direction when she stopped. “Actually, may I make a suggestion for this little revenge fantasy of yours?” 

You shot her a look. 

“I think you’ll like it.” She gave you a wicked smirk and then leaned in to whisper in your ear. A smirk started to appear on your own face the more she talked. She had been right. You liked her suggestion. It was going to take you hours to finish the witch and since you had just been brought back to life, fully healed, you had more than enough energy to pull it off. 

Bright flashes happened and you could hear the witch’s muffled screams as you carved into her and Ana then healed her. More bright flashes and you could see Ana’s devious smirk as she began to neutralize her angel-style but stopped right before it took. Another bright flash and you glared into the witch’s eyes as you stabbed her, gritting out, “That was for my sister.” As you’d anticipated after agreeing to Ana’s suggestion, it took both of you hours to torture and kill the witch. Ana had liquified her insides multiple times throughout before bringing her back from the brink. Rick and Layla had left long ago, satisfied that they had gotten payback for Carrie with the werewolves they took out and not wanting to be a part of what you and Ana were doing to the witch. Another bright flash and the witch’s lips unsealed with a scream that sounded an awful lot like your sister’s that then turned into booming thunder.

You woke with a gasp and grabbed your gun that always had a few rounds of witch-killing bullets loaded, sitting straight up and glancing around the dark room, aiming for anything that might move. Your eyes came to a stop on Ana, sitting in the same chair as before, her eyes glowing that familiar bluish-white light. You lowered your gun in relief. To anyone else, this very picture might scare them but to you it was soothing and made you feel safe; it reminded you of when she’d brought you back and how it felt before you were back in your body completely. 

The glowing light suddenly disappeared and the dark reigned once more. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “It’s just a thunderstorm.” Almost as if to solidify her explanation, a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead. “No one’s here but me.”

You nodded and when the room lit up with a lightning flash, you could see she was right. You placed your gun back underneath your pillow and hugged your knees to your chest. “I had that dream again.”

Ana stopped counting her money and glanced up at you. You always marveled at her ability to see in complete darkness, to the point that she could do things like that without any light whatsoever. “The witch one?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. 

“From when you were younger or from when she killed you?”

“When I died. I think telling Dean maybe got me thinking about it again so that’s why…” You gestured towards your head. “I was remembering the pain and the screaming…” 

You heard the chair lightly scrape across the floor and in the next flash of lightning, you saw her coming over to you. She gently sat on the bed next to you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head was on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there fast enough.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You saved me and then helped me finish her.”

“True.” She ran a tender hand over your hair. “But I wish you didn’t have those memories.” After a moment, she added, “I could take them away if you wanted.” She’d made you this offer before but you had refused it then and you were going to refuse it now.

“No, thanks though. I need those memories to keep me sharp, help keep me alive.”

“I thought that’s what you had me for,” she teased.

You smiled. “My defibrillator?”

Ana scoffed. “I still can’t believe you called me that.”

“You called yourself that. I said you were my backup generator.”

“Same thing.”

You lifted your head and shot her a look. “Hardly.”

She smiled and you couldn’t help but study her. Remembering the kiss earlier, you knew she cared for you more than the average human (any other human really) but you never thought in a million years that she could possibly have feelings…like that. She was an angel and you were only human after all. Didn’t Cas say once that his true form was the size of a Chrysler building and that humans were mere ants to angels? How did the Chrysler building feel anything for an ant?

You remembered seeing Ana’s face for the first time through a haze of pain. She had stared down at you as she started to heal you, her lips parted in shock before they pressed together in determination. You thought back to her insistence that you take her up on her offer of a soul deal to get what you wanted, assuring you that demon deals were a nasty, messy business that you definitely had to read the fine print on before you signed. And the one thing you hadn’t told Dean is that when Ana brought you back after the witch killed you, her mark was no longer on your soul. When you died, your soul had gone to her as per the deal you’d made, but once you were back inside your body, breathing again, your soul was your own. So her whole line of wanting to make sure you both got what you wanted out of the deal had been complete bullshit. Something you didn’t find out until later on, when she reamed you out for almost dying again on another hunt: a dark entity in an abandoned asylum outside of Chicago. By that time, you trusted Ana enough to make another deal with her. If something happened to you, you trusted that she would keep your soul safe until she revived you or otherwise. What that otherwise was you couldn’t be sure, but you trusted her implicitly to look out for you. Something she had been doing ever since you crossed each other’s paths.

Things suddenly became so clear to you, almost as if you had been trying to see out of a foggy window but no matter how much you rubbed at it or turned the defroster on, it never cleared…until now. 

Her smile faded slightly when you leaned in and gently brushed your lips against hers, pulling back to see what she would do. Another lightning flash lit up the room and you could see her glancing back and forth between you and your mouth, leaning in slowly. You met her halfway and a light fluttery feeling bloomed in your chest when you connected and this time it was more than just a brush of lips. You turned your body slightly towards her and cupped her cheek, taking control of the kiss. It surprised you a little but it felt like you were kissing someone who was inexperienced. You couldn’t tell if it had to do with you being a woman or a human, and she was holding back either way, or if she had never truly done this before. Regardless, you looked forward to finding out.

She began to mimic your movements and the kiss grew more passionate. You realized that you wanted more of the kiss, more of her. You reached up and began to slowly unbutton her Mulberry silk blouse (as she’d told you so many times before when warning you not to get it dirty if you opened something near her) but her hand covered yours, stopping you. 

You broke away from her, your brows drawn together. “What?”

She trailed fingertips from your cheek down to your lips, intently studying you.

“Ana?”

Her eyes met yours. “You need sleep so you can drive in the morning. I said we would be okay staying here tonight, but once morning hits, we need to leave.” You went to protest when she shook her head. “Once we’re far enough away, we’ll have plenty of time for this. But for now, sleep.”

You wanted to argue that Chuck could soon end all life as you knew it so there was no time like the present but this was also new to you. You’d never been with a woman before, never mind an angel. What were the rules? How did it go? Being with Dean, you’d seen some porn in your time so you vaguely had an idea how it went with women, but nothing concrete. You’d only ever been with Dean and a few other guys after all. But an angel inside a female human vessel…and a female human…put point blank, how the hell did that work?     

So, you didn’t push and instead, nodded your agreement. Ana got off the bed and you laid back down, settling the sheets over you once more. She took a seat next to you, sitting against the headboard, and began to gently brush your hair back with her hand. You had always wondered why she always seemed to be touching you or caressing you when you two were alone (and she wasn’t miffed at you); now you knew why. It wasn’t long before your eyes started to close and you began to drift off, hoping you wouldn’t go straight back into a nightmare. Thankfully, the thunder seemed to be moving away from your location.

Almost as if she heard your thoughts, Ana murmured, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

You nearly smiled at her words. You never told her this because not only would she have gotten offended but she would’ve denied it to the ground, but most times, you almost felt like you had a guardian angel watching over you. A guardian angel that dressed better than most humans and would kill for a top of the line Hermes handbag (and you meant that literally). Who gave you dirty looks and a hard time most days, but a guardian nonetheless. Now, you weren’t quite sure what she would be to you. You were now glad she had stopped you before. You both had some things to figure out and a discussion should be had whenever you got to where you were going next, but regardless, one thing was for sure: you knew she would keep you safe.

A/N: I know Cas had to stick his hand inside a human's chest to be able to read the marks of an angel on the bones of that human, but I decided to adjust it for fic purposes. I initially was going to do something similar to the handprint but I liked this idea better.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[tainbocuailnge]

i tend to hone in on the dark knight questline when it comes to translation differences in ffxiv because it has perhaps the largest difference between languages in the game, at least as far as I've seen, and it's also one of the cases where the german script (generally known for sticking pretty close to jp) also does its own thing. I actually went over the entirety of both en and de versions of it again the other day because I'd been meaning to translate it for comparison and one thing I noticed this time is that en actually has more lines, as in, optional lines when you talk to characters after they gave you the next quest objective that in german would just repeat the last line they said, in english would say something different. the journal entries changing depending on whether you have the job crystal equipped or not is also unique to the english version.

it's interesting because to me it shows that they really felt incredibly strongly about their take on dark knight and put a lot of serious effort into pulling it off. it's actually improved my opinion of english drk a little because clearly someone really believed in what they were writing here and used absolutely everything they had available to try and make it work. but even with that extra text to work with I still think the german version delivered their concept better and had a clearer vision of what they wanted to say with these quests. because the english team are just not as good at writing as they seem to think they are.

in my recent replay of stormblood in german there were so many scenes that made me think "you know what, maybe stormblood isn't as bad as I remembered it being", and then when I went to double check the english version of that scene it actually was as stupid as i remember it being. and often the thing that makes it stupid is like, lyse displaying confidence and competence in de but talking herself down in en, or yotsuyu pointing out the systematic failures that brought her where she is in de but indulging in personal sadistic tendencies in en. and making your antagonists dumber and more evil is one thing but the fact that they also made lyse sound so insecure and incompetent at so many points when she's the main character of the expansion, it's just so baffling to me. are we supposed to believe she can lead the resistance movement or not?

so knowing that de will generally be closer to jp than en is but does occasionally have major deviations of its own, and seeing all these stormblood scenes where one of the big glaring differences between en and de is that en keeps dumbing down and vilifying (female) characters that have more nuance and with it more thematic consistency in de, that leaves basically two options. either the japanese script had that nuance and the english translators were so full of misogyny that they decided to remove it, or the japanese script didn't have it either and it's the german translators that decided to not hate women actually. and while i don't know enough japanese to be sure, listening to the jp voicelines does give me reason to believe that the jp script is harsher to yotsuyu than de at various points, so it's probably a bit of both.

so, yknow, I can't make a sweeping statement of being against major script changes in localisation in general without being a hypocrite because the de script has at multiple times done its own thing in a way that i consider either an improvement or at least an interesting alternative of roughly equivalent quality. but that's also exactly what my problem with ffxiv localisation is, that when the en script has major deviations it's almost always some stupid shit like adding gendered slurs (they love calling a woman a bitch or a whore in english it gets really glaring when you start putting individual lines next to each other) and transphobia (matoya does not make fun of alphinaud looking like a girl in german) and removing instances of characters openly saying they care about something (thancred calling ryne his daughter in every language but english) and generally destroying all character voice, and when de changes things it's like, well written and makes sense even if it's different. so the en team looking down on the script theyre translating and changing it is hubristic overconfidence but when the de team does it they actually have the writing chops to back it up

[origamiplushie]

I Have a Bird In Spring. Chapter 2

Written as part of the @steddiesummerexchange for @hardboiledleggs.

Chapter 2. The Fort Randolph Robber Frog

Chapter 1. Read on AO3.

Many poisonous frogs, such as the golden poison frog and dyeing poison frog, are boldly colored to warn predators of their dangerous toxic skins. Some colourful frogs, such as the Fort Randolph robber frog, have developed the same coloring as a coexisting poisonous species. Although their skins are not toxic, these mimics may gain protection from predators by looking dangerous. 

Living with his uncle permanently definitely had its upsides. Eddie loved his uncle Wayne, who had always been supportive of his interests and there to give advice and be a good influence on young Eddie. 

Wayne had been the one to introduce Eddie to blues and from there Eddie had found his way to metal. The first time he heard Judas Priest he felt like someone had scooped out his brain and heart, scrambled them together and made them into a song with an awesome guitar riff. Judas Priest was followed by Black Sabbath, Accept, Def Leppard and many other bands.

Metal gave Eddie the confidence to freely express himself without shame. With Wayne’s help he had learned to play the guitar, then to play his favorite songs and now he was experimenting with writing songs of his own. Now he could force this indifferent world to listen to what he had to say. 

Eddie had managed to make some new friends - Gareth, Jeff and Frank. Eddie had introduced them to Dungeons and Dragons and soon every Friday was campaign night. The four of them had even formed their own band!

But all these positives were weighed down by the rest of Hawkins itself. From the disapproving housewives to the loud and proud racists and small minded republicans, Hawkins felt like the poster town of conservative America. The cherry on top of this pile of shit - Hawkins High.

Eddie hated the school and everything it stood for with all his heart and you could fucking quote him on that, okay?

“The Hawkins elite consider themselves so much better than those who work at the factory. What you don’t realize is that every one of you works at a factory themselves. keeping your heads down and working mind-numbing shift after shift with no protest. The true factory is right here - Hawkins High!”

A few students threw reproachful glances towards his improvised stage on top of the cafeteria table. Eddie ignored them. He was giving a lecture filled with the kinds of truths that these kids were probably never going to receive anywhere else.

He hated most of the teachers. They were basically narrow minded dictators. 

“The goal of this factory is producing obedient drones for the massive machine that is America! The teachers grind down kids’ minds until they are smooth and have no will left to question the status quo or change anything.”

Obviously, they couldn’t stand Eddie and made his life a living hell for the crime of questioning them.

“The classes are filled with useless information because the system doesn’t want you to know anything true or useful about the world. The dumber the sheep, the easier it follows the shepherd.” 

He threw in a few monotonous bleating sounds for emphasis.

Eddie honestly thought that most classes contained either the most useless information to exist or were explicitly designed to torture kids, such as gym or shop. He hated having to waste his precious time on such nonsense.

“But no one is going to try and change this because they hope to receive a cushy life as thanks for their unquestioning loyalty. THis is where our honored rulers come into play.”

A mocking bow aimed towards the jock table.

“They know that the system will reward them. They will inherit daddy’s riches and job as a useless CEO who spends their days playing golf. The only thing they have to do is make sure the sheep never realize they’re being tricked. Meanwhile the sheepies just hope that if they lick the right boots they will become rulers themselves.”

What Eddie hated most of all was the ruling class of the high school’s student body. The jocks whose main interests were various ways to get balls into baskets and nerds into lockers. The cheerleaders and popular girls who only found humor in rumors and mockery. And finally the other conformative normies who tried to kiss the right asses so they would rise to the top of the popularity ladder themselves.

Eddie did a dramatic spin, hands spread to gesture at the rest of the student body. Caught up in his awesome monologue, he was oblivious to the tray of food right next to his foot until his spin sent it flying off of the table.

Right onto Mr. Kaminski’s pressed linen trousers.

Oops.

“Mister Munson, detention.” Mr. Kaminski said in a strained voice.

Eddie sighed and hopped off the table.

“Yeah, yeah. The gears continue to grind.”

Later that afternoon, dying of boredom in detention, Eddie’s mind wandered once more towards his (fantastic, but underappreciated) cafeteria speech. 

It was impossible to understand how none of the other students could see what he saw. Truly one of life’s greatest mysteries. Well, he’s sure some of the other nerds and geeks agreed with him but were smart enough not to say so publicly. Being part of Eddie’s misfit crew put a target on your pack and while he did his best to draw the attention to himself, he couldn’t always protect his friends from the likes of Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington, their illustrious king. The asshole who walked around like he was better than everyone else. He didn’t really shove anyone around but he was never afraid to put nerds back into their place. Calling someone a fucking weirdo freak, audibly making fun of a poorer kids hand-me-down clothes in the middle of the hallway and pretty much bending in half with laughter when someone failed to catch the ball in dodgeball and got hit in the face, the list goes on. 

While Eddie would get reprimanded the moment he even thought of stepping out of line, Harrington could get away with murder. He barely paid attention in class and sometimes skipped altogether with the flimsy excuse of feeling a bit ill. He threw parties at his huge mansion every other month and everyone knew to expect rivers of alcohol. However even when the cops busted the party, Harrington just got a slap on the wrist. 

If Eddie was honest with himself, the reason he despised Steve Harrington above all the other bullies was his name. 

Harrington did not deserve to bear the same name as Eddie’s childhood best friend, his little bit of magic made real. Eddie’s Stevie was a shy but kind and friendly boy. Steve Harrington was a mean jerk who used his charisma and privilege to get his way. 

Eddie was furious he had to associate such a dick with the name of one of the sweetest people he’s met.

However, at least his Stevie would never have to deal with this other Steve. Eddie’s pretty sure his Stevie’s family must have moved away at some point because even though he’s kept his eyes open he’s seen no sign of the kind boy he used to play with. Even after all these years, Eddie missed him a lot.

---

Steve’s life had turned into a disaster.

He didn’t want to go back to acting like an asshole. Wasn’t sure he could. But he had to admit, life had been easier that way. Steve hadn’t been happy but he also hadn’t ever had to worry about where to sit at lunch, hadn’t had to worry about getting “accidentally” shoulder checked against walls in the hallways.

He could always at least rely on throwing a party to drown out the empty silence.

But unfortunately he had had good sense literally beaten back into him by Jonathan Byers and he couldn’t close his eyes to the truth again. 

That’s not even touching upon the hell he now knew was chained beneath their feet. If realizing that he wasn’t sure he could stand to spend five minutes in a room with the person he used to be wasn’t enough to wreck his life, extradimensional monsters definitely tore it to shreds. 

Steve had tried so hard to hold up the ruins of his life this past year. Tried to move on and patch the metaphorical holes in the roof with his love for Nancy and his new tentative friendship with Byers. Tried to redecorate so his life moving forwards would be warm and welcoming rather than filled with bitter spite and petty insults.

Hadn’t that worked out well. Now all he had left was rubble. And Steve didn’t really have any material left to rebuild with.

Nancy was gone, spitting on all his efforts to build something happier with her on her way out. Byers and him were back to not speaking, unsure of where they stood with each other. And his father had only called to berate him for getting into another fight before saying that they wouldn’t make it home for Thanksgiving.

Bruised, beaten and heartbroken, Steve would really rather be anywhere but in the cold empty house that reminds him of his loneliness. So after another night interrupted by nightmares he barely remembered to put on shoes and grab a jacket before wandering out of his backdoor and into the woods.

He didn’t have a destination in mind, he just needed to get away. He wasn’t sure how long he wandered before muscle memory directed his drifting feet towards the old frog pond.

It used to be the place he felt the most comfortable. It made sense that his subconscious had brought him here to try and find that same sense of peace.

Staring at the empty clearing Steve was filled with bittersweet memories of warm summers when he could escape his cold house and to play with his friend, probably the only proper friend he had ever had. 

Now Steve had escaped from his cold and empty house to this… cold and empty pond? 

Something about that feels off to Steve. 

The whole clearing was unusually silent. Steve strained his ears but he couldn’t make out a sound except for his own still somewhat rapid breathing. Even at night he would have expected to hear the faint hooting of an owl or at least crickets.

Where were the animals? What had happened to the frogs?

Realization struck - the demodogs.

If Dart ended up eating Dustin’s cat even though Dustin did his best to keep it well fed, the wild ones must have been hunting animals even earlier. It seems that they had destroyed the demodogs too late to save the wildlife. To save Steve’s frog pond.

Would there be any tadpoles in the spring if there were no more frogs?

Steve slid down to sit down against a tree. He missed the soft croaking of the frogs. He missed feeling safe and happy. He missed Edmund.

Next.

[perpetualexistence]

An Appetite for Knowledge: A Prologue to A Total Drama Noah as a D&D Monster AU

So, I came up with an AU for Noah as a D&D monster. It was supposed to just be one post. Then I started writing a scene for it. Then more context to the scene. Then I came up with a cool name for the AU.

The next thing I knew I was editing the scene immensely and whoopsie daisy I have a horror one-shot.

For extra shits and giggles, I decided to be experimental with it. I wanted to try to do more with less. So I'm not going to name what kind of monster Noah is in this one-shot. If you think you've figured it out, please do leave a comment or put it in the tags because I'm curious.

I plan to post more about the AU itself, including exactly how Noah works, in a separate post that should only be stream of consciousness paragraphs. Do keep in mind that I don't plan to make this an actual fic series, this just serves as a prologue to the AU itself.

If you know nothing about D&D monsters, that's also okay! If I've written this story correctly, you shouldn't have to know anything about D&D in order to enjoy it.

I might end up posting this on AO3 eventually, it really just depends on how I'm feeling. For now, without furthur ado, An Appetite for Knowledge!

Content Warnings: Implied murder, blood

It needed a real body.

It grew tired of hiding from creatures larger and dumber than itself. It could not feed properly from them. It had no collective knowledge to work from. It could only wander in a direction and anticipate.

It came across a stray child hiding himself between the roots of a tree.

The child made not a sound. Not even an aura of magic around the child. I could feel the child's thoughts racing inside of his fleshy cocoon. The child is reading a book far beyond his reading level. A clever hiding spot for a clever child. Not much older than itself. Perfect.

It sent memories into the child's mind. The pain of being dragged from a cranium unknown and melded with paws and claws for travel. The ceaseless chatter of voices commanding it to obey and feed. The utter apathy for a purpose unbidden until now. The knowledge of exactly what was to happen next.

The child screamed. He threw his book to the ground. He used his free hands in his futile attempts to scramble through the roots. They were clearly a tight squeeze without the throes of panic. They were mere inconveniences for a creature the size of a fist.

"No! No no no-AAAAAAAH-"

He's 8 years old and is from the border. He comes from a poor family, but is himself blessed with magic. He was scouted by a magic academy for proper training and accepted immediately.

He's among the first of many students that are being taken back to the academy through a traveling caravan. He couldn't stand for being around others for so long. The second they settled for a break, he fled to seek solitude.

He can understand the sentiment. That's what it did when the demands of the hivemind stopped and he was blessed with free will. It wasn't going to stick around for the fights for power in a state of anarchy. But he'll have to be smarter than that now. He can't have another monster picking his body off while he's alone. Not to mention, he is soon to be among wizards.

They have many spells for finding creatures like him. He must find a way to counter them, or he must flee. He peeked into the spells he now knew. They are not many, but the fact there are any given his age explains why he feels almost stuffed with knowledge. He won't have to eat again for quite a while.

He found a spell that would allow his aura to appear as human as his body is. He would have to spend most of his energy casting this spell every day. But once his body grew, and he learned how to better yield his magic? Oh it would very much be worth the constant risk of discovery.

He slowly tilted his head up from his curled position. Light peeked from between the roots to irritate his closed eyelids. He slowly opened his right eye. The light hit his retina to reveal brown roots, brown skin, a brown book still clutched between his arms. He opened his left eye to reveal the same view. Muted colors. Colors nonetheless.

He opened his mouth slowly, and closed it again. He opened his mouth again, and stuck his tongue out to look at it. Closed it again.

His face stung from the scratches it had inflicted. He moved a limb, his arm, to touch his face. He brushed his middle finger against blood. He brought his bloodied finger into view. He took his thumb and rubbed it against his middle finger.

Sloppy work, but it was his first time. He was proud. Proud. Such a nice feeling. He couldn't wait to find out what else could make him proud.

He let out a squawk of indignation as he felt arms burst through the roots and drag him out.

"Kid!" the voice shouted. Based on the armor he was now staring at, this was a guard. He wore a tabard emblazoned with an insignia of runes and sorcery. He recognized that insignia. It was that of his new school. He recognized this voice. This was the guard he had snuck past to look for a place to read. "I heard the screams! What happened to you?! What were you even DOING out here?!"

He hasn't had enough time to parse through his social skills. He'll have to wing it, as his new knowledge of idioms provided. At least he doesn't have to worry about motor skills as he's being carried with two hands around his torso. His limbs dangle as he puts his effort towards speaking.

"I wanted somewhere to read alone." he said. His voice is flat. It's a chore to open his mouth to produce sounds. But that's what human children are capable of, so that's what he must do. The guard's eyebrows furrow in...concern? Ugh, right. Emotions are a thing he needs to account for now.

"Read al-Kid! Just because that weird brain thing got killed, it doesn't mean the woods are safe!" the guard shouted. Oh. That would explain the silence. "This is still a forest swamped with monsters!"

"They were safe enough for you to fall asleep on guard duty." he retorted. It was hard to place where this instinct came from. It had never liked the authority of the hivemind. He had never liked people looking down at him for his age.

The guard's face flushed red. Oh, pride was back. He'd have to do that more often.

"You little-" the guard started before he forced himself to stop. He looked to the ground to calm himself and noticed the claw marks. "Just...tell me what attacked you."

"I didn't see it clearly. I think the little creature that lived here came home. You must've scared it off."

The guard looked directly into his gaze. He couldn't fail this test. He was too exhausted to try again.

The last time he tried to hide something was when his mother caught him a few months ago. He'd stolen his sister's practice wand. He wanted to use it, and she was being selfish. His mother didn't know which sibling had stolen it. She was asking each of them individually. He had watched his innocent siblings meet her gaze, and she relented. He had tried to meet her gaze, but guilt overcame her and he had looked away from her.

He looked directly at the guard. The guard was the first to look away and sigh.

"Just don't do it again kid, next time you won't be so lucky." The guard slung him over his shoulder like a sack of grapes.

"You're right, I won't be."

"Let's just get you back to the others....uh..."

The guard is trying to pull for a name. His body's name is spoken in a tongue unfamiliar to most in this country. He was not lying. He will never be so lucky as to find an opportunity like this again.

What to say, what say? He's never had the ability to be creative before. He only knew what his body last knew before he moved in. Including his last words.

He tried going for a grin. He could only settle for a smirk.

"Noah. You can call me Noah."

[thatcartoonnetworkblog]

Cartoon Network Friday Spotlight: The Powerpuff Girls- "I See a Funny Cartoon in Your Future"

Happy 25th anniversary, Powerpuff Girls! I wish I had a better episode lined up for tonight, but this is the one Spotlight I had in my queue for the series (note to self- write more Spotlights).

I love Rocky & Bullwinkle, genuinely some of the best cartoon writing ever. And I do love The Powerpuff Girls, which follows the moose and squirrel in its own way as an influence. While the latter paying tribute to the former sounds good on paper, I don't think the result that happened near the end of its run is the best it can do.'

I mention the problem right there- the later seasons of The Powerpuff Girls aren't nearly as good. Craig McCracken left the show shortly after the movie to focus on his next work, while Chris Savino, who already ruinedtook over Dexter's Laboratory's later seasons, became in charge and there was definitely a noticeable change. Gags became especially labored, the cheeky wit of the original was phased out for dumber, broader gags, and the charming UPA-meets-Golden Books art style of the earlier episodes was morphed into a more sterile, if still stylized sharp lines mess. These later episodes have their moments, and there are elements that I like about this particular one, but there's a reason that I keep going back to Craig's run.

In this story, Tom Kenny's narrator goes into overtime to recall Rocky & Bullwinkle's omnipresent voice as the uncomfortably Romani-inspired Madame Argentina (played delightfully by June Foray going full Natasha) wrecks havoc in Townsville with her goose sidekick. The girls try to stop her, but Madame Argentina is one step ahead and finds ways to stop the girls in their tracks, including voodoo dolls who harm the girls in, to recall Bubbles, their "tail bones". The girls do eventually save the day, complete with a commercial taking place in between the segment.

I really do think that a couple of years earlier, this could have been a lot more fun- especially if it was made and/or aired while Rocky & Bullwinkle was still a part of the main channel- but the show's best days were behind it. And apparently, this was a season 5 leftover that aired in various places before the states got it as the last episode to air as a premiere. Kind of a weird way to end the run of the channel's most popular show up to that point.