#with the loneliness honestly i feel like that could be written better too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coquettepascal · 5 months ago

Text

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

-> part. ii here!

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying.

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes.

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones.

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does.

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you.

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to.

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job.

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together.

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point.

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there.

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats.

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute?

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel.

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable.

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing.

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird.

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone.

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars.

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice.

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath.

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes.

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer.

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him.

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself.

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years.

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing.

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly.

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this.

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks.

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock.

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him.

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?”

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either.

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers.

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering.

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay.

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you.

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough.

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.”

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out.

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo!joel #neighbor!joel #tlou fanfiction #dilf!joel #reader insert #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller smut

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aayakashii · 6 months ago

Note

hii love ur stuff a lot!! i especially enjoyed the sh ones (as weird as that sounds, it's just nice to be cared for something <3) could i request the same concept but with tohma and sho? thank youu

Thank you for enjoying what I write!! It truly means the world to me <3 and it's not weird at all, I understand how it feels good to have a character you like comfort you in some way 🫂 also, I might have written a bit too much this time oops (´ᵕ `ก).｡

Here are the other drabbles of the same "series": part 1, part 2

Warning: sh mentioned and/or implied

While you took a big bite of your sandwich, humming in delight and chewing happily, Sho was burning holes onto your arms as he washed the dishes at his truck.

You tried to ignore his blatant staring, already used to the questioning gaze of those around you whenever you showed the skin of your arms, but the intensity of his expression compelled you to say something before he actually managed to shoot laser beams from his eyes.

"Okay, thanks for the food" you bowed slightly as you crumpled the used napkin "Now go on. Shoot your questions."

Hearing your words, Sho blinked, finally looking up at your face.

"Huh?"

"You've been staring" you pointed at the visible scars "You can ask me stuff, I won't bite."

He scoffed.

"Me? I wasn't staring. I don't care." Sho looked down and furiously scrubbed the plate on his hand.

"You were almost burning a hole on my arm, Sho. Also, you've been scrubbing the same plate since I came here today."

He winced, embarrassed by his own distraction, and put the plate inside the sink.

Sho rested his palms on the counter, making his shoulders reach his ears, his head hanging low as he sighed.

"Hey, I don't mind, you know? Like, I don't mind talking about them. Especially with someone I trust." you said gently.

At that, he looked at you, searching your eyes for something you couldnt quite understand. After a few seconds, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

"So... can you tell me? Why did you... why did you do this, senpai?"

His voice sounded so anguished and you couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart. You reached out your hands to hold his, and he hesitantly took them, twisting your arms a little so the scars could face him.

"I was in a very dark place some time ago." You observed as he stared at the marks on your arms, his hold on you tight and firm "It felt like everything was spiraling out of my control and I had to keep something under my restraints."

You chuckled.

"If you think about it, I'm actually in the same type of situation again, in a whole other scale."

Sho's grip on your arms tightened and he lifted his head quickly. His eyes looked sorrowful at your remark, yet he couldn't find the words to protest against the truth.

"But... you can't– I mean, you don't have to–"

"Don't worry" you interrupted, trying to calm him down "Despite the circumstances I'm in a better mindspace now. Also, loneliness played a big part in it. I'm not alone now, right?" you lifted your eyebrows, a playful smile tugging on your lips.

He shook his head, his expression still solemn.

"Yeah, you're not alone, no. Not if I'm here."

You smiled, a warmth spreading in your chest at how serious and genuine he looked as he said that.

"But." Sho breathed deeply before continuing "But if you ever need to cry for help, for any reason at all, you have to promise to come to me before you do anything rash, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded.

"No, that's not enough, senpai. You gotta promise me. Here." he lifted his little finger and pointed it towards you. His brows were knitted and his lips pursed into a thin line despite the way the tips of his ears burned red. "Promise me."

You snorted and intertwined your own little finger with his.

"I promise."

You have itched you arms through the sleeves of your blazer for the nth time that afternoon, Tohma noticed.

Honestly, it was getting a little bit on his nerves. He had taken time off of his schedule to help you study Anomalous Biology, something you seemed to struggle with, due to how haphazardly you had been thrusted into the unbelievable world of ghouls and anomalies. And he understood your plight, he truly did.

But was his teaching so boring that the itch on your arms shattered your focus that easily?

"My apologies if I make you uncomfortable, but... wouldn't you like to take care of what has been bothering you first, before we continue our studies?" he eventually said, closing the textbook he was using to teach you.

You looked surprised and a bit embarrassed, which was unexpected to him. Did you not notice? Was this a tic?

"I'm sorry, Tohma, I did it without noticing, truly. I have a itching cream on my backpack, I can put it on now if it won't make you uncomfortable."

"Not at all. Why would it make me uncomfortable?" he quirked up an eyebrow.

"Well... because, it's... um... I guess I should just let you see it."

You bashfully took off your blazer after grabbing the cream, and laid your arms on the table. On your skin, several small scars littered the underside of your forearm, which caught Tohma's eyes almost immediately.

"Oh." he mouthed, and you smiled awkwardly.

"I've had them for a while, but every now and then they itch. Usually when I'm having allergy symptoms and since we're on an old library..." you trailed off.

Tohma stayed silent for a while as he watched you apply the cream on your arms.

"My apologies." he suddenly muttered and you glanced at him.

"What for?"

"It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable with my remark."

"Oh" you waved your hand, dismissively "Don't worry about that. It's good you said, otherwise I might have hurt myself. I don't really mind showing them. They're already a part of me, so there's no benefit in feeling embarrassed by them, right? Plus, it's been a long time ago and... sorry, I'm rambling."

Tohma smiled and grabbed one of your hands, turning it to bring its back to his lips.

"You are a very fascinating person." he said, placing a chaste kiss on your skin "Maybe a bit reckless, but incredibly brave."

Your cheeks burned at his comment and his kiss, and you laughed nervously.

"No... not at all. I'd say I'm facing something a lot more difficult now and I'm honestly very terrified."

"But you're still moving on. Bravery is to keep going despite your fears. You're doing this now and you did this every single time when you went through these" he said pointing at the marks on your body.

You lowered your head, the redness spreading to your neck as he stared at you so intensely.

"I just hope you'll find it in you to rely on us whenever you need, now that you have all ghouls wrapped around your finger."

You raised a brow, finally facing him, a look of skepticism on your face.

"I definitely don't have all ghouls wrapped around my finger, Tohma"

"Oh no? Well, then maybe it's just me." he said it nonchalantly and opened the book in front of him again.

Full masterlist

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker tohma ishibashi #sho haizono #tokyo debunker sho haizono #tohma ishibashi #ask

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ultimateshixiongfuckertournament · 1 year ago

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Noncanonicals Tournament Round 2, Match 4

Match 4 is between John 'Jack' Seward from Dracula (shizun/mentor: Abraham van Helsing) and Han Ying from Word of Honor (shizun/mentor: Zhou Zishu)

Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)

John 'Jack' Seward:

Actual quotes from the letter in which John Seward introduce Van Helsing:

"I am in doubt, and so have done the best thing I know of. I have written to my old friend and master, Professor Van Helsing, of Amsterdam, who knows as much about obscure diseases as any one in the world. [...]

Van Helsing would, I know, do anything for me for a personal reason, so no matter on what ground he comes, we must accept his wishes. He is a seemingly arbitrary man, this is because he knows what he is talking about better than any one else. He is a philosopher and a metaphysician, and one of the most advanced scientists of his day, and he has, I believe, an absolutely open mind. This, with an iron nerve, a temper of the ice-brook, and indomitable resolution, self-command, and toleration exalted from virtues to blessings, and the kindliest and truest heart that beats, these form his equipment for the noble work that he is doing for mankind, work both in theory and practice, for his views are as wide as his all-embracing sympathy."

I feel like this speaks for itself tbqh.

Also, here's Van Helsing's answer to Seward's offscreen summons:

"When I received your letter I am already coming to you. By good fortune I can leave just at once, without wrong to any of those who have trusted me. Were fortune other, then it were bad for those who have trusted, for I come to my friend when he call me to aid those he holds dear. Tell your friend that when that time you suck from my wound so swiftly the poison of the gangrene from that knife that our other friend, too nervous, let slip, you did more for him when he wants my aids and you call for them than all his great fortune could do. But it is pleasure added to do for him, your friend, it is to you that I come.[...]"

The Gangrene Incident is never explained beyond this. Just. Jack sucked Van Helsing canon and real

Rest assured that they are like this from here to the end of the novel

See above; also, let's remember the fact that Jackie can apparently do a bang up Dutch accent to give full bodied performances mimicking his professor. Van H also implies that he and Jack are blood-married.

Even though they are mentor/student, Van Helsing strongly believes Jack is his equal in many ways and confides in him just for emotional stability. Stereotypically the mentor pushes the student outside of his comfort zone, but it is Jack who introduces the professor to everyone else in the story. Van Helsing tells another character that Jack helps alleviate his loneliness. He writes his "in case I die" memos to Jack specifically, because there is no one else who would understand him better.

Oh also Van Helsing has a running theme of barging into Jack's room unannounced, waking him up gently from his sleep, invading his personal space with little protest.

#you have to understand just how MUCH jack wants to fuck van helsing#so badly#he is constantly heart-eyes at van helsing even when he thinks van helsing might be a bit mad#like literally he writes about how GOOD van helsing would be at being a madman if he were to do so because he's the bestest at everything 😍#he and van helsing talk about the two of them being as one#they mirror the ultimate main couple in that - just as jon and mina write their 'if i should die' notes to each other -#van helsing writes his to JACK as the one whom he loves most#anyway in conclusion jack wants van helsing and his 'all encompassing sympathy' SO bad#and honestly i think getting some of that aged D might fix him#like not all of his problems because dear god man. but like. at least a few could be solved with a good solid dicking

#did we. or did we all not read jack asking van helsing to be his pet student AGAIN

#when it comes to mentorfucking#there's no greater mentorfucker than jack seward

Han Ying:

He idolized and was mentored by Zhou Zishu to the point of recruiting other young martial artists to revive ZZS’s dying sect and willing to die live happily ever after for it.

#han ying wants to fuck zhou zishu SO BAD#han ying#shizunfucker tournament

#my sweet ying'er wants to fuck zzs so bad he's gagging for it

#HAN YING HANDS DOWN#would have licked his boots if he asked

#john seward #jack seward #han ying #dracula #dracula daily #word of honor #shan he ling #abraham van helsing #zhou zishu

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consciousgordiacea · 8 days ago

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I think modern human society has a fucked up view of personhood. Basically that only humans can be people. Which is ironic coming from a species with a long history of animism and believing that everything in this world has a soul. I mean now humans are even willing to forget that other humans are people, which allows for discrimination and genocide and the likes. Existing amongst humans as a consciousness in this moment in human history honestly must be awful to an extent I cannot picture.

But this is not all encompassing. I do genuinely think the current state of humanity is an injustice to it's vast history of compassion. Some of that history still lives on today in some indigenous group, some social movements and the like. Also lives on in simple acts of love, cooking a dish, making music, caring for one another. I don't think compassion and love are innately human, but they do live in humans as they live in everything with a soul, as they live in you. We fall in love because our soul calls out to the world because we are both a part of it, and apart from it. You've fallen in love with a beautiful piece of the world and you can't embrace him right now and it hurts so so much because we are creatures of love at our core. It is the best of us, worm or human.

I could never know the extent of your experience but both you and I know love, both you and I know fear.

Humanity is unkind to you, as it is unkind to many of it's own members. If queers, poc, disabled folks and so many more are driven to great loneliness and otherness by their societies despise being just as human as any other, I can't imagine how lonely the experience of an inhuman consciousness would be. I am ashamed of my species for many of us have forgotten our compassion and we have done this crime to you as well as our own. We've forgotten we are not above the rest of the world, and that much of it is beyond our understanding.

I wish I knew how to offer real comfort to you friend. I don't know when or how this hurt will ease. Sometimes we just have wounds to live with and we have to figure it out because we're stuck with them and it's messy and everything feels wrong. It's truly awful when the part of your heart where a person lived with all their warmth and love becomes an open wound screaming the lack of them. You just gotta walk around with an open fucking wound and be fine. Fuck being fine okay. You asked what we would do in your shoes - I would hurt like hell and it'd be messy and destructive and I sure wouldn't do any better.

Just -- please don't forget your compassion Gordon. Some of human society has forgotten, but all humans themselves are still creatures of love. You have known this in all the human friends you've made, and in the person you love. He is a person, and you know this of him very deeply - because loving one another, most of all, reminds us of each other's profound personhood.

Some of humanity has forgotten that personhood isn't just human, and that it doesn't belong only to a select few humans. This hurts you and honestly it's what hurt Milton too, shitty people treated him as less than a person. Please don't become like them Gordon. Mass killing humanity will only be taking on the worst traits of humanity. We need to atone for so much, but our destruction will not be atonement, and it won't get rid of that hole in your soul where your loved one should be.

It's love or fear and choosing love is hard but it is the only purpose to find in this world.

Sending all the love. Apologies for the length. I hope any of this is helpful or can at least hold any comfort.

- 🌱

I SPENT TODAY CONTEMPLATING. PREPARING. PERHAPS I WILL USE THE ARMY I HAVE AMASSED FOR SOMETHING MORE POSITIVE. YOU HAVE GIVEN ME MUCH TO THINK ABOUT, WRITTEN IN A VERY POIGNANT MANNER. THANK YOU.

#consciousgordiacea

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tleeaves · 1 year ago

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Wasting Beats In This Heart Of Mine - how it would have ended

Hello, folks! As some of you already know or have heard me mention previously, my TLH fanfic WBITHOM is coming to an end. I am no longer comfortable with it being in the public eye since it involves a lot of personal stuff for me, and so I have decided to delete the fic entirely on every platform it's been published on (that's Quotev, AO3, and Wattpad) rather than rewrite the entire thing. This will also finally give me the chance to focus on other written works. Maybe I'll return to fandom with a rewrite one day for anyone interested, but for now, the future is dedicated to other things. The fic will be deleted in 48 hours, so readers on Quotev and AO3 have a chance to download the unfinished fic if they so desire before then or just have one last read. I ask that no one rewrites or adds an ending to my fic and publishes it anywhere without my knowledge and permission. Never put an author's work through AI either. I still have several copies of my fanfic and its outline, so I will always have evidence of where the story comes from.

WBITHOM is a monster, with the master document coming to well over 150,000 words and the fic so far being ~146,000 words (the entire outline and all my notes makes up over 4,000 words, yes). I predict that, had I finished the fic, it would come close to 188,000 words (so, there was a decent ways to go still). It's the biggest thing I've attempted, but because of that, it is also the most time-consuming (it's been almost a year and a half of writing, and each chapter either takes two full days to write or weeks) and it takes up the most space in my head, not really leaving room for the other ideas I want to explore.

So, as someone suggested, I thought I'd give readers who were hoping to see the fic to its proper end some closure. That's what this post is for: how it would have ended. Along the way, I'll explain some things too about recurring themes and motifs and all manner of behind the scenes and thoughts behind my ideas.

Character Arc Summaries

As readers know, this story follows the characters of Lila Raftis, James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, and Matthew Fairchild. They're all the most significant figures, though we do see other perspectives and side characters too. Essentially, Lila Raftis struggles with loneliness due to a myriad of other issues she has to work through, and James Herondale's arc starts with his depression and turns into a journey to authenticity where he feels like his own person and not just what he has been written or expected to be. Cordelia Carstairs' physical state of being lost extends to how lost she is within, and she ends realising that she has been continuously defining herself through other people. I see her as leaving London and the love triangle with James and (unconfessed) Matthew (and Lila) to deconstruct a lot of the ideals she was trying to live up to and why. As for Matthew Fairchild, I made the deliberate decision for him to turn into a werewolf and have that separation from Shadowhunter society so that he could pursue the arts and build a better life that he would find more satisfaction with, also eventually becoming sober. I took inspiration from his time at the academy, particularly when he turns to Lila in one of the earlier acts and asks if it's so bad to not be a Shadowhunter. At first, he regrets turning, but I planned for him to wind up relieved.

Honestly, while this work is very self-insert (and that's not a bad thing generally, but I've been finding it uncomfortable as time goes on, so that's why I prefer to take it down and keep it to myself), it was also my way of going How It Should Have Ended for the TLH series as a whole. I started it before ChoT, yes, but that book only led to minor changes and alternate paths taken -- I was already using ChoI as a base to steer these characters in the directions I thought they should go.

The Rest Of Act Three

The rest of Act Three of the fanfic is summarised below (...at length. It's a lengthy summary).

We ended the fanfic on the chapter where James and Lila returned to London, 1903 of his dimension. He was gravely wounded in his left arm, which ends up being amputated despite the efforts of Lila and Lucie (and Gus' help too). This is, of course, a reference to the recent fan art of James where a headcanon went around that the reason we couldn't see his other arm was because it just didn't exist. I took it and ran, which was not planned. I knew I wanted James injured so that Lila could return the care he once had shown her when she was wounded badly, but it wasn't going to be as severe as it ended up being. This is how we ended up at the Institute instead of 48 Curzon Street as I had previously planned for the chapter. James was going to be fine, but Cordelia had decided to confront Lila about several things, and they'd end the night having kissed -- which in turn leads Lila to going for a walk to clear her head and her subsequently getting kidnapped by Jonathan Bell (the Other James from another dimension). Anyway, the change did make some of these plot points awkward (😭) hence why I spent ages editing the make out between Lila and Cordelia because I could not decide how it should start and end. It was a nightmare. As Silver pointed out, it didn't make a whole lot of sense in the order of events (Cordelia should have gone to see James first), but I was in a mad rush to finally release the update since I knew people were waiting. The kidnapping also was not quite as dramatic as I envisioned it, but oh well. I'm actually quite happy with the rest of the chapter though.

From there comes the rest of the fic that readers probably will not get to experience, so that's why I'm writing this out, so you at least know the mysteries that I won't get to reveal and how we get to the end.

Jonathan Bell kidnaps Lila and, through the use of shadow, they end up in Paris, France. This is where Matthew also fled after his mother released him from the Silent City cells after he persuaded her into it. Lila ending up there and being away from both James and Cordelia, and spending more one-on-one time with our antagonist and Matthew since the earlier parts of the book was always intended.

Jonathan is revealed to have possession of another silver pen, which is a reference to a previous fanfic I wrote (also deleted) called Chain of Lies, where the pen could literally rewrite reality if you used your own blood for ink. In Jonathan's dimension, Lila ended up staying in his world and marrying him, but she also dies of a mysterious sickness during their honeymoon, so he uses the pen to go back in time and cancel their honeymoon, under the impression she would not get sick. Instead, she was hit by a car several days earlier, and died in the accident. Jonathan goes back again to stop that from happening, but Lila ends up dying again anyway, over and over again in different ways, every time Jonathan reverses time to prevent each event from occurring. Eventually, he goes so far back in their timeline together that he's reliving the December when they met, and that's how he knows how to divert the accidents in WBITHOM that threaten harm to this other dimension's Lila (are you still with me?). But before that, he created a time loop in that December of his dimension just trying to keep Lila alive for two years of his life whereas everyone else remained the same, but stuck in time. It's supposed to be very angsty and tragic, and it's a demonstration of one of James Herondale's core traits eventually twisting horribly wrong: how he would do anything for those he loves, whether that be family, friends, or lovers.

This character flaw/strength is something I reference lightly a few times throughout the fanfic, mostly in the ways he is concerned about the safety of his family and friends which he tries to find out from Lila, who has read Chain of Iron and knows what the future is supposed to be, and then how he reflects on how he does not know what he would do when someone he loves dies. Honestly, the issue is that he cares too much about people, which is both a good thing and a bad thing, depending on how far it goes. Jonathan is the literal embodiment of what would happen if James' care went too far, if it bordered on obsession, if he wanted to keep someone from dying so bad that he would sacrifice everything else, even the universe.

So, Jonathan finally confesses to the time-loop and explains that as a drastic measure, he tried finding Lila in another dimension to see if he could save her there, but this tearing of the time-loop to escape it worsened a tear that Cordelia had already created in her fight with Belial and the Mandikhor to such a point that it started growing and expanding and destroying the fabric of time and space between dimensions and the universe as a whole. You know, wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff (Doctor Who reference for those who get it). The thing he did not realise though is that in this timeline, Lila is not meant to die, so long as she goes back home instead of staying in 1903 (he still doesn't know this, it's just a fact I would have explained to the readers when we meet Circe, the employer of Poppy Morad (P.M.) and Saint Nicholas). This is supposed to leave Lila conflicted, because as much as she wants to hate his guts for being the reason for her family disappearing and the worlds ending, even this Other James is a reflection of her own nature, which is another thing that's been lingering beneath the surface for the duration as the fic: while James has a doppelganger that demonstrates who he might become if he cannot accept loss, he and Lila have similarities boiling beneath the surface that go unnoticed until an outburst we saw Lila have where she basically accuses James of being just like her (not complimentary at the time).

Lila as a character is someone who cares deeply, but is willing to sacrifice herself and others to protect what or who she cares deeply about (yet we also see her choose self-preservation over self-sacrifice a few times before she truly starts acting in service of others). Her circle of people she cares about is more limited than James', but the shared sentiments still stand. Plus, the way Jonathan has acted this entire time has always bordered on unnerving or odd -- I did that on purpose. He's been driven to obsession, where he's basically an extreme of what James and Lila believe in. And he is both James and not James in this way, if that makes sense. We see in one of Lila's nightmares earlier in the book Jonathan saying it does not matter which version of him he is or which version of her she is -- they belong together. Fully delusional at this point, but it's meant to be scary. I'm kind of obsessed that Jonathan is also a mirror for Lila to see how she might look to her James: someone who knows you way too well, but you've also never met nor know much about at all (she might know James but she does not know this one), who's inexplicably fixated on you (granted, James did not even begin to guess Lila's feelings, and hers were rather superficial in a way until they spent more time together).

Anyway, basically, the start of this rewrite of Chain of Lies pretty much began with these dynamics between the two Jameses and Lila. It was a whole thing with diagrams and late night ranting to my poor sister and everything.

So, of course, Lila is conflicted and she also does not know how she's supposed to get Jonathan to reverse the problem he has created -- whether he's also supposed to go back to his dimension and whether that will be enough to repair the tear. Most of this happens in the Notre Dame cathedral because I said so (I like cathedrals as settings, sue me if you dare).

Meanwhile, Matthew has been in Paris and totally avoiding Charles, so he also hears nothing of Will and Tessa being notified about James' injury in London and leaving by portal. But he does hear some French Shadowhunter gossip about the Consul's werewolf son's disappearance when he discovers Lila being taken to the cathedral by a masked man. Then ensues a solo rescue operation. Honestly, I always have a lot of fun writing Matthew, it's hard not to include him more. Anyway, the rescue is successful, and he takes Lila back to his hotel room to lay low for the night before he gets her back to London with the others (since he recognises that they must have no idea where she is, what happened, and she's an integral part of solving this whole mess, as people are still disappearing in this world).

I had a really nice scene planned that I'd been waiting the entire book to write, but basically Lila and Matthew spend a sober night together (as opposed to their time in the Silent City together) where they talk about all their woes, including their love lives, and eventually they get on to the topic of how they could have smoothed over both their dilemmas if they just had each other as lovers, if only their similarities were not such that would probably be self-destructive at this point in their lives. Because we've seen often in the book other characters compare these two, but it's these two themselves who recognise that, yes, they are alike in some ways, but not the ways it counts in order to have a healthy romantic relationship. They settle on being good friends. Matthew also takes her measurements so they can pick up some quick changes of clothes since Lila's still wearing her grimy outfit she wore during the explosion. And she also brings up that she knows he's an artist, but asks that she have the chance to sketch him, and he offers to do so in return, so they spend the rest of the night drawing, which I just find so sweet. There's not much significance in that at face value, it's just cute, but I also see Matthew embracing an old hobby as one of the first steps he takes in moving on from all his pain and finding better outlets for it.

Also, the platonic nature between Lila and Matthew, the complicated romance with James and Cordelia, and then all the familial themes and side-plots going on are all part of an idea I had going into this that I wanted to demonstrate many facets of love and the importance of each in their individual right. If anything, given the extreme slowburn I've come at James/Lila/Cordelia with particularly, I want to end this book purposefully with none of them winding up together because so many other things mattered more than their romance, and even the kind of loves they have for each other are a reason they don't end up staying because they would all rather see each other safe and not see each other at all than know they might cause other problems by being in the wrong dimensions.

Anyway, because I do multiple perspectives for everything, while Matthew and Lila and Jonathan have their bit going on in Paris, back in London we see James coming to terms with his disability and in all his rumination over what's happened and Lila being missing but him being unable to go out and find her, James finally (FINALLY!) realises his romantic feelings for Lila. This also leads to a scene between him and Cordelia where they both discuss Lila and their feelings for her. Cordelia also confesses how she has felt for James for a long time, but she also explains that she wants nothing to come of it anymore because she does not see herself settling down with him like she previously thought. James is a bit stung by this (I mean, my guy had no idea about Cordelia's true feelings until now and then she also springs a rejection on him at the same time when he's just begun to realise some of his own feelings around her) but is ultimately relieved since he feels he needs more time to figure out who he is and the life he wants without the bracelet numbing him.

We also would have seen Poppy Morad and Saint Nicholas again and their increasing distress and alarm with how difficult Jonathan Bell has been to track and control since he's hared of to Paris with Lila.

When Jonathan finds out Lila's gone, he feels betrayed and frustrated by his failure. Because while he feels he has saved her, she's refusing to be his as she once was in his dimension (also why he was confused and then against her leaving and going home earlier in the story). The world is breaking down around him (we start to see parts of Paris going up in flames, not unlike London 2021 of Lila's dimension) and he's about to go track Lila down again (but now he's going a bit more heavily into Villain Mode).

We also see Poppy Morad closing in on Jonathan as he returns to London when she's defecting orders from Circe, her higher up, to take him down instead of corralling Lila's effects on the timeline.

Lila and Matthew return to London on Christmas Eve just hours before the end of the world properly starts in 1903. This is also when she and James interact for the first time since he passed out on the bridge several days ago. I was a bit undecided on how I wanted this scene to look, other than I needed them to finally confess their feelings for each other in the rain like a cliche after they have an argument where Lila says that James has everything she wants (and this is where we realise the root of her problem in this whole book is not simply loneliness, but a dissatisfaction with herself and her life, which has lent itself to the more superficial issues she's been having) but that ultimately she also just wanted him though she knows she cannot be with him without risking everything. So, when James confesses his side, they decide to spend what little time they have left with each other as best as they can. (And this where I as an author push them together like Barbie dolls and go "now kiss").

Have I mentioned this story has too many layers and plot points and it's been driving me mad this entire time I've been writing it? Anyway.

They quickly determine with The Gang™️ that "Belial" and "Lilith" are not who they seem to be anymore, because while Alastair just got arrested for the murder of Lilian Highsmith (oh yeah, that happens while Lila and Matthew are in Paris, because I wanted a reversal where it's Thomas who stands up for Alastair when he's accused of murder, just for funsies) everything else that has happened seems to be related to whoever this P.M. (remember when Cordelia was also accused of murder because Filomena thought she saw Cordelia when she was attacked?) and Matthew body double is (spoiler: Poppy Morad and Saint Nicholas are codenames for other versions of Cordelia Carstairs and Matthew Fairchild in another timeline, I'll explain more about this later, but what you can probably surmise already is that this alternate Cordelia has taken the place of Belial within this dimension and is the one murdering all the victims (including her father. That was a difficult point, because we see in a PM and Saint Nick scene that he's concerned about whether she can go through with it) and Matthew has taken Lilith's place in some minor ways (like hiding and then handing back Cortana at the right moments)).

Anyway, because Lila's kind of behind on some events, she goes to confess to Cordelia (but explain how she also feels about James), when Cordelia says there's a lot more she wants out of life before she pursues romance again. That she's been so consumed by it, by finding love, by getting married, she's lost who she is beneath it all. (Have you noticed the theme for every character in this fic is basically authenticity and finding oneself despite whatever circumstances they find themselves in?)

Then, we also would have seen Lila dedicate herself to taking down Jonathan herself since he's the main problem that's tearing things apart and perhaps if he's killed then he can no longer influence time and reality.

Vaguely, I had planned that James and Lila would have what my outline says is "an emotional night together" because it could mean literally anything and I wasn't totally sure where I wanted it to go. So. Interpret that one how you will with whatever you prefer, honestly. Anyway, while that's happening, we see Matthew go home to his mother who is, understandably, worried sick and mad because he never wrote to her like he was supposed to and Charles return without him. We see Matthew collapse into her arms and just sob. That was the plan. It's important to me that he's actually vulnerable with her for once and that he, a young man too big to be in his mother's arms, lets himself be held anyway. There was also supposed to be a wholesome Thomastair moment that I hadn't really planned, though I knew Alastair would go home with Cordelia afterwards and she would start her journey to forgiving him. We also would have seen her kneel in front of Sona to confess A Whole Lot Of Things about what's been happening in her life, from as early as the marriage blanc and the Blackthorn Manor incident. Basically, everything is supposed to be hopeful even if it hurts just a bit and feels a little bittersweet. Because then in the chapter this all would have taken place in, we'd end with Saint Nicholas and Poppy Morad collecting the pithos from Christopher who picked it up in the background of everything (basically, all the Belial storyline has still been operating as it should, except it's being orchestrated by PM instead of Belial), when Jonathan sneaks up on them and fatally wounds (he had the intent to kill) Saint Nicholas, who he is shocked to find out in that moment is an alternate Matthew.

AND THEN, next chapter we would have had at the tolling of midnight, signaling Christmas day, PM the alternate Cordelia (whose character is the way it is because she's been hardened by some long and traumatic years -- she and alternate Matthew have a tragic backstory that I've been keeping in my back pocket that wasn't really necessary to be explained in the story, but if you want to know more, just ask) drags a dying alternate Matthew back to their tent where Circe, their mysterious employer, is torn away from her work elsewhere to start enacting emergency world-fixing in this timeline. This is also when we find out Circe's identity: she is Cassandra Clare, once again (if you read Chain of Lies) who's codename was derived from the common shortened CC she's referred to in fandom, who has universal powers and basically controls (to an extent) a good portion of the universe. Like a god. But also not. It's a whole mysterious thing that I never intended to explain because I think some things are better unexplained.

THEN, Jonathan shows up to 48 Curzon Street, covered in blood and calling for Lila. A fight between him and James (and sort of Lila who's attacking Jonathan though he refuses to attack her) ensues before he ends it all by taking out a silver pen (The Silver Pen) where we see 'Nikoletta' engraved on it, and writes a time-loop which snaps the final threads keeping all the timelines and dimensions in order.

Act Four Explained Slightly More Briefly

This is the final act of the book and also the shortest. It was planned to only be about six chapters long. Now, I was most excited about this part of the book because I had ✨visions✨. No, literally, the entire inspiration of this entire fanfic came from a dream I had about James Herondale as Spider-Man, me impersonating Cordelia Carstairs and not knowing how to do Shadowhunter things, Santa Claus as Father Time, and the end of the universe, and this is where we would have finally get to see it all come together.

We kick it off with an entire chapter dedicated to a lot of scenes similar to what I've written earlier in the book with Lila and James' nightmares, where nothing makes complete sense and yet the reader is meant to feel on the cusp of understanding something alongside the characters before the dreams usually end. Only they don't here. The dreams are reality, but reality is broken, and there is no waking up because there is also no sleeping and there is no normal but faint memories of what came before. So not only is the environment ever-shifting (think of it almost like a kaleidoscope and you have maybe a quarter of my vision here), but the people also keep "glitching" between different versions of themselves at different points in time and in different realities even (sometimes the doubles join and then they split apart, it's a weird nightmareish sort of thing in my mind), and so they also have different memories and levels of knowledge about things that have happened and what's going on. We see it mostly through Lila and James' perspectives. There's supposed to be a lot of angst and a feel like everything is a fever dream.

In the next chapter, things only start to get slightly ordered when Jonathan Bell finds Lila and says he'll rewrite the universe she wants so that it's perfect for her, and can have it be anything she wants, so long as they are together (major creep vibes though, honestly, as sweet as this might sound to some). This is also me addressing a problem from my original fanfic before this one, Chain of Lies, where I basically gave that silver pen waaay too much power, and now I'm demonstrating what it can do and so, like the one ring to rule them all, it must be destroyed (once Lila or someone else gets a hold of it to rewrite and fix the fabric of everything). Alastair saves Lila from Jonathan this time (he's still a bit prickly, but we see he still cares about Lila anyway), and demands she go find Cordelia to end Jonathan (Cordelia has Cortana which can cut through anything, which is important). Then we also would have seen that James is stranded somewhere with a fluctuating Matthew (the vision is that he keeps changing states from a werewolf to a living corpse to himself at various ages) and they are attempting to find PM, the alternate Cordelia, who knows Circe who should be able to fix everything as PM explains (she got separated from Circe and Saint Nicholas when the world went crazy). She leads them partway before she's taken by the collapsing world (she disappears basically, because that can still happen to people). When Lila finds her Cordelia, she's in the Paladin state (imagine glowing eyes and a vague aura of scariness with a glowing sword and you've got it) and it takes a bit to get through to her so they can make a plan to take down Jonathan.

Chapter after that, we have Cordelia distracting Jonathan so Lila can steal the pen, but she realises she does not know how to write an ending that does not kill all the Jameses since, as Jonathan once put it in her nightmares, "it does not matter which version of him I am... we are the same". This hesitance gets Cordelia fatally wounded, though she's not quite dead yet, but it's the final push Lila needs to kill Jonathan with Cortana (as also seen in a dream she had ages ago without realising it), and Circe finally manages to pull enough worldly strings in this chaos to pause time long enough for James and Lila to reunite to do the re-writing with her.

From there, we have two alternate paths. I called these basically "the happy ending that could have been" and "the bittersweet ending that was", which I was inspired to write by The Umbrella Academy (if you know, you know, I won't spoil it for anyone else who doesn't).

In the happy ending that could have been, we see the characters a couple years down the line. We also find out that Lila would not have died like she did in the other universe. She and James are together and they end up planning to propose to each other on the same day, which is the day after Lila successfully ascends. Then we see Cordelia and Matthew travelling together across the world as friends. After that, we would have seen Thomas and Alastair having dinner at the Lightwoods'. Finally, the Raftis family believe Lila is missing, presumed dead, but after a couple years they are finally moving on.

The bittersweet ending that was though is where Lila goes home. The friends she's made in London 1903 see her off before James takes her back to her dimension where they'd have one final goodbye on Blackfriars Bridge. That night, Cordelia gets on a train to set off and travel on her own. We also see Matthew, who has already picked up Oscar a couple days earlier, going to Gus' flat to complain that Oscar misses Gus and would not stop whining until they came by. We see Matthew finally tentatively suggest a first date, and Gus would accept. We close this part of the ending much like we started the book, with James walking alone in the night, just as he was when he left the Devil Tavern and his story took a different direction to canon when he found himself outside Cornwall Gardens where he met with Alastair. This time, James is alone, and he's feeling a little hopeful about the future ahead.

We get one final chapter before the epilogue where it's mostly Lila's perspective as she finally gets to experience Christmas with her family in 2021 and I planned for the beginning of some family healing and bonding to occur. Then we would have seen future James once more, who it turns out is now tasked by Circe (CC) with maintaining the space between dimensions, but this means he can't be in any one for very long since it's a lot of work that takes up time.

And now we get to the epilogue. Every time I imagine this, I get a little emotional. The epilogue would have began several years in the future with Lila dropping a bi-annual letter into the Thames, which I liken to the River Styx, in that it's where all lost things end up. We see, rather comedically, that she has moved out with the money she gained from some things she "stole" from Curzon Street, as well as her mysterious finding of the adamas, which scientists in her world are still amazed by. We are surprised to see though that when she goes home, she's living with the version of Matthew who nearly died in his previous role as Saint Nicholas, because CC gave him a chance to live out a new life elsewhere, in a dimension where there was not another version of himself. He and Lila seem to be doing well.

We cut to James of around December 1905 who has gone to visit his family at the Institute, where Lucie and Jesse are pouring over Cordelia's latest letter from abroad. James says he was just at Matthew's flat, and Gus was telling him about theories of time travel that the mundanes at the university Gus attends were discussing. We also find out that James himself has written a book, a science fiction piece with a ridiculously long title, about different worlds and the doubles of people that exist. After the dinner, he goes to Blackfriars Bridge and produces several of Lila's letters out of a pocket before stowing them away and shadow travelling to her dimension to leave a letter for her.

The fanfic would have ended on James' letter, which mentions briefly that he is having nightmares again of Belial's return since they have heard nothing have what happened with CC. Aside from that, the letter is rather sweet. But we see that Lila never gets a chance to read it, because CC collects it first and burns it with a lighter while humming "it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas".

Concluding Words

And that, ladies, gents, and fair folk, was how Wasting Beats In This Heart Of Mine would have ended. It has potential for a sequel. One I never want to write except in my head because, man, I am so exhausted by this fanfic alone after I already did it as a rewrite of Chain of Lies. If anything, this is the sequel to Chain of Lies and the next potential story would be the third book. It's been a long few years, I'll tell you that.

Some final things:

If you're wondering about that green coat I was always mentioning: it was supposed to be my tell, along with the gold-ringed eyes, for Saint Nicholas being an alternate Matthew, who is also the leader of the SoHo wolf pack in his origin universe. For Poppy Morad as the alternate Cordelia, who worked as Matthew's partner in time shenanigans, it was the fact that people forgot her face once they saw it because of a facial rune she applies (one that does not exist but she has courtesy of working for The CC). That's why people often knew they saw Cordelia, but could not remember the details of that meeting, if they managed to remember her at all.

The reason Lila has essentially what I call "a death aura" is because of her alternate selves, many of whom die, and it's something that leaks between worlds as the walls steadily break down.

At some point in Le Grand Reveal Of The Time-loop, Lila realises that the detailing on Jonathan's mask matches the floral detail on the back of The Joker card she's been carrying around with her sister's initials this whole time, which hints at just how significant some of the objects in this story are and the meanings they can give (The Fool and The Master being other common names for the card, related to its unpredictability and capability of being anything).

Jonathan wears, obviously, his crimson cape, but his clothes are a deep navy blue and this is part of my reference to Spider-Man and the original dream that inspired all of this.

Future James does indeed have diamond stud earrings. I said so.

At the end of the book, CC would have reinstated Lilith and Belial (whom she removed for previously causing problems in other dimensions where they became too aware of alternate timelines) with altered memories, so the stories can generally continue where they left off (some a couple years later, which has some interesting effects if I wrote the next book, in theory).

And I think that's all I have. But if anyone has any questions at all, feel free to reply to the post to ask, message me, or put it straight into the ask box, I'm more than happy to answer since I'm already depriving you of a properly written-out neat ending to everything. Reminder that I am deleting the fanfic WBITHOM in roughly 48 hours from the time of this post, so after that it will not be available on any public platforms for reading. I am not taking down any of my other fanfics (except for the few that I already have some weeks ago).

Thank you to the readers who have supported me on this longass journey. You were often the reason I kept going when I wanted to give up on writing fanfic, especially writing this one, which has been a very trying process (I mean, it took me half a day just to explain the last approximate third of the damn book, for crying out loud). I appreciate the kudos, the comments, and all the enthusiasm. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Take care now, and I'll see you in the updates of other works in the future.

-- streettealee

P.S. special thank you to @thevagabondexpress who endured many hours of me blabbering way too much about this fic and these characters, who I pestered to give me feedback as I fretted over whether I was doing everything right (spoiler: there's no right way, just better ways), and who cared about this when I struggled to. You suggested I might find a way to give readers some closure. And so I also give thanks to @faithfromanewperspective, who went nuts for an Australian OC (understandably, as I would too) and blazed through my entire fic and encouraged me inadvertently to start updating again after a long dry spell. You still absolutely get to see my drafts and outline next time we catch up in person, but I hope for now that this is a good description of the rest of what the book would have been and it gives you some closure, as well as for the other readers. Thank you also to @quantummeep for reading and commenting! I can never get out of my head how even early on in your reading you recognised all the plot threads that I had been weaving together, and it meant so much to me that you appreciated the level of detail I tried to work with.

Thank you all and to the other readers who also supported me 💛

#wasting beats in this heart of mine #wbithom #the last hours fanfic #tlh fanfic

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randomthingsicameupwith · 2 years ago

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yandere kenny mccormick x reader

till death do us part (part 1) (part 2) (sorry if my english is bad :( )

DISCLAIMER: YANDERES AND STALKERS ARE BAD AND I DO NOT CONDONE THEM IRL!!

As the bell rang, you strolled over to your locker. As you unlock it, a bunch of girls pass by, snickering at you. "Poor Kenny, having to deal with a girl like her." "She probably pays him to be with her!" The rest laughed, cackling loudly like an alarm that keeps going again and again. Kenny McCormick has been your best friend since you two were practically babies. You and he have been attached at the hip, and no one has been able to separate you since then.

Literally no one. You barely had any other friends than him; everyone you talked to went away, and attempts at talking to people other than Kenny were futile. And people who luckily didn't go away barely talk to you. As you two grew up and reached high school, everything went to hell. People you knew in South Park became mean, and rude, and targeted you for your loneliness and the fact you stuck to Kenny like a parasite. Honestly, you didn’t blame them for bullying you.

He was nice; he barely caused any trouble, and if he did, everyone would be on his side. Charming too, getting every girl he wanted, most likely having sex 24/7, and getting every guy to be friends with him. Strong, smart, and sweet. And you? Just some average lonely bullied teen. You were the opposite. Awkward and shy, with no idea how to talk to people without stuttering or tripping over your own words. There were times when you wished that Kenny could be more like you. Wished that he was the one getting bullied instead of you. But despite all of this, Kenny never left your side. He was there for every tear that fell from your eyes when someone called you names or made fun of your appearance. He stood up for you when no one else would, even if it meant taking a punch or two in the face. But of course, nobody would punch Kenny McCormick. You never knew why he would hang out with someone like you. No one hangs out with you.

Except for one guy.

Your boyfriend, Mark Swanson, In your opinion, was far superior to Kenny. Even though everyone else would choose Kenny in a heartbeat, he was the sweetest boy ever and had the cutest smile you’d ever seen. And he never made you feel bad. So obviously, you hung out with Mark more often than you usually do with Kenny. Which made him pissed off, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be with someone other than him for once in your life.

Mark came to you. Leaning against the other lockers. "Hello princess," Mark said in a suave voice; your face turned red like a tomato. Unlocking your locker, you saw a pink letter slip out. 'My sweetheart, y/n,' written in red pen

The handwriting looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't rack your brain on who it was. Turning to Mark, he had a confused expression on his face. "My sweetheart, y/n." he said mockingly. Clearly indicating it’s not him who wrote it. You picked it up quickly, looking behind you. I'm hoping this wasn’t some sort of prank orchestrated by those girls. Catching a glance at Kenny, who walked by. Weird, you thought. Kenny usually doesn’t come to this hall around this time. Closing your locker, you carefully open the letter. Mark moving closer to see better. Rolling his eyes. The paper was pink too and also written in red pen.

‘My lovely y/n,

I love you always

I’ve never known how to tell you this. Every time I try. I shriek in fear.’

“Real pussy he is.” Mark snorted. You laugh in response, nudging his side.

‘My heart beats for you and only you.

Your beauty, your laugh, your everything,

I get entranced, I’m always in awe of you.

Your smile is like a sunbeam on a cloudy day.

You take the darkest of clouds and push them away with joy and warmth.

As cheesy as this sounds. This is all true. I know what your thinking. This is some kind of prank, isn’t it? No, it’s not.

I'll do anything to be with you,

To hold you in my embrace. My love for you is all-consuming,

It consumes me, with every trace.

And I wish your boyfriend gets wiped off the human race.

Love, Your Admirer.

(PS. I could treat you way better.)’

“What a real dickwad he is,” Mark said, rolling his eyes. You giggled. “I bet he can’t treat me better than you can darling.” arms wrapped around Mark’s neck, you gave him a kiss on the cheeks. “Definitely,” he replied, hugging you. “Also, I can't hang out with you for lunch. Promised Kenny I would sit with him this time,” you said in a sad tone. “Awh, it’s alright princess. Speaking of Kenny, this looks a lot like his handwriting, doesn’t it?” he said. You thought of it, it does look like his handwriting. But, Kenny could never. He had thousands of girls, why would he write this to you? “Yeah..” you muttered. “Anyways, gotta go. Bye princess.” ripping out of your hug. As he walks away. You walked over to your next class.

As you walked to class, the words of the letter echoed in your mind. The writer's words were full of passion and a hint of desperation, which left you feeling uneasy. You couldn't help but wonder who this secret admirer could be and why they had such strong feelings for you.

Not to mention, as Mark pointed out, the handwriting did resemble Kenny's - a thought that made you confused. Your mind raced with different scenarios, trying to make sense of what was happening.

However, amidst all the confusion and anxiety, one thing was certain - the letter made you feel special in some way. It felt like someone saw through your soul and appreciated who you were on a deep level. Except for that last part of course! A part of you wished it wasn't just an anonymous confession but someone who would come forward and reveal their identity.

The whole time, the only thing you were focused on was that love letter. As time passed, the class finally ended. You couldn't stop thinking about the letter and who could have possibly written it. As the class ended, Kenny showed up in front of the class waiting for you with his sweet, white toothpaste ad smile. “Hey y/n!” As you and Kenny made your way to the cafeteria for lunch. Whatever he said went through your ear and out. You kept analysing every detail of the letter in your head. Could it really have been Kenny? You couldn't seem to shake off the feeling of confusion and discomfort that had taken over you. The words from the letter echoed in your mind, hitting you harder with every repetition. You tried to push it aside and focus on Kenny's presence beside you, but it wasn't working. It was as if a storm was brewing inside you, waiting for just the right moment to burst out.

As you walked towards an empty table at the corner of the cafeteria, thoughts of who could have written that letter continued flooding your mind like water overflowing from a dam. You didn’t even notice how silent you were. "y/n? Did you hear me? You've been… awfully silent… " He asked earnestly. The thought crossed your mind - should I tell him?

You tried weighing out the pros and cons. What's the harm in telling him?

(kenny’s pov)

You got it. I waited years to get the courage to write that love letter. You're rambling on and on about how you're worried if it’s a prank or not when I wrote that it wasn’t a prank. You keep going on about it and I’m just hoping you don’t notice my handwriting and imagining you sucking my dick. But sadly, your boyfriend probably noticed my handwriting. Stupid Mark and his fucking stupid everything. Jesus Christ, who knew it would be this hard.

“Any idea who it might be?” I asked, curiosity laced over my tone when really I already know who it is. “Mm, nope.” you said, not maintaining eye contact at all. I know when you're lying or not. I wanted to just tell you that it was me. But, I can’t risk telling you now, not with Mark in the picture. Fucking Mark has just always been in the way of us and I can’t goddamn stand it. I keep trying to scare him off and threaten him. But it never works. What does he even want from you? What does he have that I don't? It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.

I ask you again, “Really? Come on y/n, I know your confidence isn’t high but it can’t be that fucking low.” you nod, I can see your boobs bounce slightly. You definitely wanted me to notice them, but I’m not complaining. “Can I hangout at your house today? Karen’s having a sleepover with her friends and Kevin’s also at a friend’s house and my parents are at some guy's house.” I asked, we haven’t been hanging out lately and it’s really been annoying me to the brim.

y/n’s pov

With a sigh, you nod in agreement. You didn’t want to hang out with him. You just wanted to sit at home and sulk about that stupid love letter. Despite the awkwardness that had just arisen with the love letter topic. You notice how he smiles from ear to ear at your acceptance, his eyes sparkling with excitement. This is just sad, you thought. You're just going to act emo and mute while he’s beaming with joy just to hang out with you. “Yes! Woohoo!” Kenny says and you can feel almost all the girls glaring at you with intentions to murder you.

“But,” you say, Kenny had a quizzical expression on his face as he tilted his head in confusion. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret for agreeing . “I don’t know if my parents will give you permission to stay.” he looks at you dumbfounded, and scoffs, “come on, of course they will. They love me more than your siblings, you know?” internally, you're scolding yourself. You could've said no, but it’s too late to back out. Feeling dejected by his response, you said meekly, "Whatever you say."

#yandere kenny mccormick #yandere kenny mccormic x reader #yandere kenny #female reader

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shrinkthisviolet · 2 months ago

Note

🚥🔨 ✂ 🧜‍♂️📃

🚥: Is there a character choice or plotline that you regret but is now canon and you feel like you can't change it?

Idk if there's a specific one, but if I had the choice to do this over again, I'd write the arcs in order—s1 and then s2. I feel dissatisfied sometimes with the way I wrote certain things in s2 (Barry & Morgan's relationship, for example, not being quite as close-siblings-esque as it is right now), because there were things I hadn't figured out yet. It's not so severe that I feel the need to overhaul it and write it from scratch*, I think I've mostly worked within that limit fairly well, but…even in terms of writing style, you can kinda tell that my writing style improved from s2 to s1…which is sorta the opposite of the effect you want to have 😅 it's not a bad arc by any means, I'm still proud of it (and it's not finished anyway, so it'll still end strong), I just…sometimes I wish I'd written it after s1 instead of before

*however, I probably will end up tweaking part of Morgan's reaction to Barry's paralysis in 2x06 to be more about "oh my god my invincible big brother is paralyzed", not just about "oh my god Zoom is terrifying". And a while back, I did tweak one of the other oneshots in s2, which originally had Iris not knowing Morgan was Sentry (that is obviously not the case anymore, so I edited it). Minor little tweaks like that are ones I might make (and I will undoubtedly recommend rereading the posted fics of the s2 arc once the s1 arc is finished), but overall, I've managed to stay surprisingly in line with the s2 arc so far.

🔨: Are there any whump tropes that you'd love to see your OC's reactions to even though you couldn't or wouldn't put it into your actual story for whatever reason?

Oooh well I'd love for Barry and Morgan to be captured together by Zoom at some point, but idk if it could work. One of them at a time, maybe, but…I don't know if there's really a feasible way to have them both captured while still fitting in with the way s2's plot unfolds (and I do love s2 and its plot for the most part, so I don't want to disrupt it too much…aside from the few divergences I've already planned)

✂: Is there a plotline that you'd planned to write but for whatever reason has been abandoned?

Oooh well back when Barry & Morgan were just friends, not siblings, there was going to be more awkwardness with Henry and Tina dating, due to Barry and Morgan facing the possibility of stepsiblinghood and feeling awkward about it. That still remains in a sense—the awkwardness is just about gaining a stepparent, and not about also gaining a stepsibling. It included the latter originally, but since Barry and Morgan chose each other as siblings as early as 1x14, it would make no sense for them to feel awkward about becoming stepsiblings.

Oh, the consequences of becoming very attached to them 😅 I fast-tracked their sibling dynamic. I don't feel too bad about it though—honestly I can't imagine s1 without their close relationship, and it strengthens 2x06 (Morgan's reaction to Barry's paralysis is no longer just about Zoom, but also about Barry)...and future arcs in the series. I can live with losing part of the "stepfamily adjustment" plotline, because a) I still have part of it anyway and b) Barry & Morgan being this close from so early on is better in the long run

🧜‍♂️: If your OC could choose to be a nonhuman character, what do you think they would choose? If they are a nonhuman character, would they choose to be human or another sort of nonhuman character?

A siren (the aquatic kind specifically)! Morgan had a mermaid fascination phase, and she loves singing. Plus, after making this moodboard + blurb…I'm quite fascinated with the idea myself (siren!Morgan fic one day mayhaps?) 👀

📃: List a few words, without any explanation, that have to do with ideas you have for future stories or chapters that may or may not ever get written.

betrayal, grief, longing, loneliness, family, new beginnings, trust

oc ask game!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @tempests-of-hope @negative-speedforce @starstruckpurpledragon @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

#oc: morgan wells #brotp: i know my hero #siren!morgan #morgan wells au #oc ask game

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luvdalkxdlk · 1 year ago

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Makoto Kagutsuchi Ideas

AAARGH. I finished watching Rain Code like a few days ago, and I'm still not over Makoto Kagutsuchi. He was like this absolute silly boy and then chapter 5 was like OMG. And then he became my top 1. Then, I went to fanfics, and then started writing a bit of my own although it's just ideas stage. I absolutely do not want to go deeper by publishing the stuff but I need an outlet and hope that you find the stuff so you can comment or whatever. If you want me to expand on some ideas, I will be happy to and hope you tell me your own thoughts because brainrot ain't going away and I want someone to talk to about this absolute madman. Peace Is An Illusion: Title comes from ideas when Makoto kept getting visited by the Peacekeepers. Honestly, I want to explore that especially with Yomi because the power balance and dynamic is just too interesting. I'm also curious about how Makoto got the Peacekeepers to turn on Yomi at Chapter 4 and while I have an idea, I haven't written far enough yet. Here's the first snippet for fun.

Makoto valued privacy but he really couldn't do anything when a certain group of people loved to break it. The only consolation he felt was that Yomi Hellsmile walked in on Makoto Katsuguchi exploding the kitchen.

"What the fuck?!" Makoto had heard Yomi shouted when he turned around from the smoking oven and holding out a blackened tray to see unexpected visitors in the form of the Director and backup.

"Oh hello Yomi," Makoto took in stride of such an unexpected and frankly unwelcome drop in, "I was just trying to bake cookies for myself. Since you are here, would you like to try some?"

He could see Yomi looking at the disaster of a kitchen and then the surprisingly normal looking cookies that resulted from it. Makoto could sense the apprehension and the hard refusal on his lips that would come up if Makoto had not continued, almost shoving the tray their way.

"Please don't be shy. What kind of host would I be if I at least didn't offer something to my guests. Before we start something, why not indulge on this hospitality?" Makoto asked.

It was easy to see Yomi warring between just upending the tray while calling it bullshit and just taking the damn cookie because this hospitality could also equate to slight servitude to Yomi, with Makoto serving him something. Petty, Makoto knew, but Yomi always liked being superior and if it meant indulging pettiness, why not?

In the end, just as Makoto hoped and expected, Yomi aggressively took a cookie, bit into it and then with an odd look on his face while looking around, he went to the kitchen sink and puked his guts out.

That would be disgusting to clean up but in Makoto's own childish pettiness that he wanted to indulge when he was born without experiencing it ever, it was totally worth it. -Totally funny too, not gonna lie but that's all I have for now. I want him to meet Seth, Martina, Guillaume and other Peacekeepers just barging in and explore everything with Yomi, about fear, survival and power balances, you know?

My Other Half and How I'm Never Made Whole: This one is more on the nose. I LOVE the dynamic between Yuma and Makoto. Original and clone dynamics send me and I just want to explore what could be love (platonically of course), hate, friendship, family, loneliness. EVERYTHING. I'm not sure how I want to go with this one but I have a nice snippet.

Thanks to the Peacekeepers, Makoto could never really trust his own subordinates despite his love for the city. Technology was far more reliable and less likely to betray, that even at the top of the tower he would have a far better worldview of this city than the Peacekeepers ever would.

It was how he was able to keep tabs on the Nocturnal Detective Agency and their skirmishes against the Peacekeepers. It was thanks to gut feeling and deductions after the latest defeat against the Peacekeepers wrought from the Director's beloved right hand that he had found himself idling around the submarine they call agency.

He was unsurprised when the submarine blew up, unable to stop the destruction even when he was able to. He would not ruin the delicate balance that he had with the Peacekeepers, not yet considering Yomi's unpredictability and volatileness. He had only managed to minimize damage, that will undoubtedly infuriate Yomi against Martina considering it was far out of his scope of ruthlessness.

Whatever happens with the Peacekeepers will stay with the Peacekeepers for now, when he had bigger fish to fry... pun not intended considering the blown up submarine on the river. As a homunculus to Number One of the WDO, he had more faith that Master Detectives with amazing Fortes would undoubtedly come out of this unscathed considering the training they undergone.

He was far more concerned with Yuma, his original. Wiped off all memories, making a pact with a death god that he can be sure of considering his own, albeit outdated, memories and knowledge about the WDO and the mysterious death of the culprits so far with the one main factor being Yuma himself.

The original had lost way more memories than the clone had thought, regressing from WDO training and cases that had built him up to this day. Possessing more naivete and less survival skills than the day Makoto was born, the chances of his survival was at a lower rate that Makoto couldn't have. No matter how he felt about the original, every detective was useful to him in this current state of affairs. No matter what Number One had planned against his clone, he needed to ensure his survival.

The Book of Death was interesting, and only outsiders could topple the structure that Yomi was hellbent on keeping. Number One on the scene would surely ensure success, despite the utter lack of memories when considering Makoto's own success.

-I also have another snippet really separate, mostly to explain why we met Makoto taking a bath of all things: While waiting for Number One, or him going by Yuma Kokohead these days, to wake up, Makoto ended up going to the bath, cleaning himself up from the impromptu dive so that his original didn't end up swimming with the fishes.

My Love For This City and How They Love Me: I love Makoto, don't get me wrong. But do I seriously believe that Kanai Ward simply accepted the fact they were homunculus and just straight up voted Makoto as their leader. Nah, there definitely had to be some dispute because Dohya District and their hate on Amaterasu although it was more on the Peacekeepers, and even at the epilogue, I think there is some dissent but I also believe that Makoto had done enough to earn the belief that made him their leader too. I love him, but I want explanations, you know? So it's completely plausible a lot has happened in the month-ish between chapter 5 and that epilogue. I have a snippet right here, about the time that Makoto was voted in as the leader, and he invited Kurumi up there, as an informant and citizen just to have an understanding why.

"Why would the people put me back in the CEO position? Why would you want me as your leader?" Makoto asked Kurumi, immediately after the results came out. He had invited her in his pent house, having tea and simply checking up on her after the incident in the restricted area.

Despite Makoto's high position as Amaterasu Cooperation, the company was never really a government to this city in the first place, having ushered a tyrannical era upon them thanks to the Peacekeeper's hands in the beginning. Only workers and a fair few people had an inkling of an idea who the CEO is and the rest had only been shocked, such as Yakou Furio and Kurumi Wendy, when the CEO of the big bad company had turned out to be a masked weirdo.

[I kinda want to put a lot of dialogue here but don't know how so it's a bit of a skip after a heavy conversation, yeah?]

Kurumi smiled, as if everything made sense but Makoto found it damning, somehow shouldering the fact that he had to continue this position, always in authority and decision until the rest of his kin could take him no more, was the atonement expected of his crime. A more lucrative one in comparison to simply giving himself over the UG.

Makoto might say he love Kanai ward and the homunculi might say they put their belief on him, but the words were superficial, with deeper meaning all too twisted underneath it.

After all, Makoto's love was not unconditional, considering how he would protect only the innocent but had no problem slaughtering criminals and getting rid of useful pawns for the greater good in extremely black and white thinking to preserve the city.

And Kanai Ward's belief in Makoto was not for the person he was but for the experience and resources he had garnered as the perfect homunculus and CEO. For the blackmail against the UG for the better life that they had all desired the moment their lives turned upside down with isolation that he thought was for their own good and got turned around now with the newfound knowledge and the idealism that they could only improve from here. For his wits and genius that could be taken advantage for a better livelihood.

It didn't hurt that unlike Yomi, Makoto was more affable of a person despite his workers having a taste of his eccentricities.

Makoto was far from stupid, knowing that his position was never out of love and belief, something that can easily be taken away if he ever turn the wrong path or was no longer useful to them. It was his atonement, to make himself useful in lieu of his crimes that had garnered some sympathy because they all knew he did this for the survival of his own kind but were still unforgivable for the utter lack of humanity even if it was to accommodate for the differences their kind simply had.

The city wanted to live instead of survive. It wanted to flourish instead of stagnate. Now that they know, they believed that they could turn things around. They had rallied and used Makoto as their banner. This time around, even in his position, he was not the only one holding the reins, with people who knew of their plight trying to use their own resources and knowledge that Makoto did not possess on top of Makoto's own.

'Let's see where this idealism takes us,' Makoto thought, unsure that it would even lead to a perfect solution because they still had the UG themselves to contend against but with the city in the know and on his side...

Maybe the original actually made sense with this proposal despite Makoto's own doubts.

Little did he know, he was being observed by Kurumi who had a soft smile on her face when she saw Makoto deep in thought, his eyes always to the state of the city and that softening in his posture and eyes just at the sight of the city.

Makoto was by all means not perfect but considering their entire situation, the burdens he had carried for their survival was endearing and touching. Even through their shock, they had an inkling about how much Makoto had cared about them, about their kind.

Makoto would not know about this now, but although it was not smooth sailing, everyone came to an unanimous decision of Makoto's leadership, for one reason alone.

The obvious love for their city, and despite everything, that had been enough for everyone to give this a go. He might not believe that yet, but at least for now, the citizens do.

-I get it might be more complicated than that, but as Makoto said, homunculus had a right to live despite their defectiveness and even if they had commit monstrosities that they still have to wrap their head around, they never asked to be made. And yet, they still want to survive. Survival has always been a base instinct until it's not, no matter the cost. I think that's why Makoto had lived as the perfect homunculus and why Kanai Ward is still standing by the epilogue. There might be times where we want to end things, but more often than not, we still continue out of opportunities, possibilities, dreams etc. At least that's my take and I might be wrong, but simple idealism, I guess.

Can Never Be Seen, Can Never Take Off The Mask: I don't have snippets but I kinda want to explore how Makoto lived with the UG, how he realized he was a homunculus and that he was simply a doppelganger out of an original. How he started wearing masks because he didn't want to be anything like his original, down to the appearance etc. Something like that. What do you think?

Can Never Save All, And Thus Opposition Is Born: I think that the Resistance should be known more, and how they would feel about the CEO, who in their eyes, might be incompetent for letting the Peacekeepers have their way. How his sudden rise was suspicious. Or something. Makoto might love the city, but even with the power imbalances and the rise of Peacekeepers that Makoto had simply been too late to stop or could have never in the first place, that love did not reach deep enough to help the slums become a better place. I get that nothing is perfect, and Makoto might have his hands full as one person, only sticking to basic survival and preservation but it does make the love a little shallow. I don't discount what Makoto has done but I don't want to ignore stuff like this either. It's something that could be explored.

I See A Reflection But It Is Not Me: I AM SICK FOR MAKOTO AND YUMA DYNAMIC. I am utterly attempted to make a Gab version or Danganronpa Friendship reports, whatever, just to have those two interact more. Even if it would be borderline AU. Just let me do it T_T

No titles yet, and in the maybe but a part of me wanted to explore Fink the Artist, Yakou Furio, Makoto and Yomi. That whole debacle, because what do you mean Makoto introduced a hitman to Yakou??? OK, I know that Yomi had instigated, and Yakou went through with it despite the obvious trap? But Makoto fanning the flames??? I love Makoto, but I won't justify him I promise. He had done a lot of evil shit and he's still my favorite. Ugh... it feels like Kokichi Ouma all over again, but Yakou Furio was still not innocent in all of this. Even instigated or the flames are fanned, he could have turned back and find a better way than killing Dr. Huesca out of his wife's memory. Well, the whole thing was a total mess and it hurts. Chapter 4 still kills us all, and everyone is equally innocent and guilty in all this except for Yomi who can go to hell for this. Point is, I kinda want to imagine a scene with Yakou, Makoto and the hitman. Everyone's thoughts on the matter and despite everything, Makoto loves the innocent of the city the most and at that point, Yakou was. Even when he wanted to fan the flames, a part of me wondered whether there was a crack of doubt to make Yakou turn back from all this, an 'Are you sure?' and Yakou still doing it anyway. I mean, that man is insane because I could not believe going through mental trauma of getting poisoned, electrocuted (even if not in that timeline) and then just stabbed all in order for vengeance, in memory of his wife. That's just dedication. My take in all of it but Chapter 4 and the feels, yeah? If only one person had just stopped to think, except for Yomi coz he would 100% go through with it the bastard.

Well, that's it and I hope you leave comments coz I need someone to scream about Makoto with me. PLEASE. I'm still not over him.

#makoto kagutsuchi #mdarc #mdarc spoilers #drabbles #peacekeepers #detectives #brainrot #need an outlet #so sick over him #need to let go #help me

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snowangeldotmp3 · 2 years ago

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dear el; from max

i bet u thought you'd seen the last of me.... nah jk. there will be more of these, but i'll probably post the last two on ao3. after this there is perhaps one...maybe two more that i will post here. maybe. maybe i'll just post them to ao3. anyway, onto the letter!

El,

I don’t know if anyone told you— shit—you probably already know about what’s happening here in Hawkins but,

If you’re reading this, it means he got me. Vecna. Henry. Whatever.

Which means you have my full permission to kick his ass.

I hope California was nicer to you than it was to me, and I hate to know that this is how you found out about everything. I hope you at least made some friends, but they better not be cooler than me.

I hate that we won’t get to have any more girls nights, and that the only ones we did have were from back then. Before Vecna. Those are some of my favorite memories, and I wish we’d hung out more before that summer. But don’t tell Lucas I said that. Or Dustin. They have it in their heads that they’re my favorite, but you’re still my best friend.

And you can have my Wonder Woman comics. I don’t have many of them left because of the move, but I won’t need them anymore. I want you to have them, as like, a memory of me.

You might have to fight Erica for them, though. I promised her some, too. But I’m sure she’ll share them with you if you ask her nicely.

I wish we could’ve had more time. I wish that we could’ve hung out without some world ending threat always knocking at our door. Maybe in another life we could’ve been normal, teenage girls and talk about boys and magazines and shit.

School’s been lonely without you. Mike and Dustin have joined this stupid nerd club and Lucas has tried to be with me but with everything I just, I haven’t felt like being around people. Nancy tries, she offers a seat at lunch and she’s always telling me ‘I’m here for you, if you need me, Max.’ But really I’ve just wanted to be alone.

And look where it’s got me.

I got all of your letters, by the way. Every single one of them. I kept them in a drawer in my nightstand. I read all of them, re-read some of them when I was a little lonelier than usual. I should’ve written back to you, or at least sent the other letters I wrote to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t—you have every right to hate me for that, by the way.

I just…I couldn’t figure out how to actually reply after the first two or three letters. I couldn’t pretend to be happy anymore and eventually it just got too hard. I shut myself out from almost everyone. I thought I could handle it on my own, that everyone was just pitying me as the girl who lost her shitty step-brother in the mall fire, but it turns out I can’t. And that it wasn’t pity, they actually cared about me.

I think that was harder, honestly. To know that people actually cared about me and wanted to see me get better. I pushed everyone away. It was easier.

This feels like it’s a little too late, but I hope you can forgive me for not writing you back. And thank you, for still writing letters to me even though I wouldn’t write back. I don’t think I would’ve lasted this long without you and Lucas. Even though I’ve not been the best friend or girlfriend in the world, you guys have still been there, even when I wasn’t. Or didn’t want to be. You guys were there anyway.

I should’ve written you back. Should’ve given you something to let you know that I was okay. And now all of this shit’s happened, so.

I’m sorry that this is the last thing you’ll get from me. I should’ve been a better best friend and I’m so, so sorry that I wasn’t. This is gonna sound really sappy and sad, so don’t tell anyone, but you’ll always be my best friend, El.

Promise you’ll kick this creep’s ass for me, okay?

Love, your best friend, Max.

#stranger things #max mayfield #el hopper #elmax #this one was harder to write i'll be honest. i hope it still sounds like max.#she was always a little softer with el and that's what i really wanted to convey here #notice nothing's crossed out.#but i hope that's what comes across! that she's still max but she's just less closed off around her.#feedback is appreciated but pls be nice about it <3 #my writing

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aylacavebear · 10 months ago

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Stockroom Antics - Chapter 21

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 2688

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Demon Deals, and Prior mention of the show's history of its darker encounters.

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 21

You’d almost finished the list of items when Bubbles took off into the war room, causing your gaze to follow. All you could do was glare at Dean, feeling the anger and jealousy again.

Why the hell are those two so buddy-buddy? You thought to yourself.

You tried to go back to the list, but your focus was gone. Something about how Bubbles seemed to be with Dean made you angry, and it had started the day before. For a moment, you glanced over at the papers that Bubbles had been writing on. She wasn’t bad and seemed to pick it up quickly. Your curiosity quickly got the better of you, so you went to see what was going on in the kitchen.

“Huh, she didn’t seem mad last night,” Sam said, a little puzzled, but Bubbles nodded, “At least the dragon understands English.”

“Her name is Bubbles,” you told them in a low, annoyed tone, crossing your arms.

After grabbing a cup of coffee and their greetings, you returned to the library and your list. You’d been attempting to remember the things you needed for some of your favorite dessert recipes and were still doing so when the brothers and Bubbles joined you.

You refused to look up at them, at least at first, and Dean’s happy mood only seemed to annoy you further. Hearing Dean sound like he was trying not to laugh made you shift only your eyes so you could glare at him. When Dean lost it laughing, it pushed you past your point of control, shifting your focus from Dean to Sam.

“Is she talking to you too?” you practically demand from Sam.

Sam put his hands up in surrender, “Nope. Bubbles doesn’t talk to me,” he quickly answered, then sipped his coffee.

It was bad enough that Dean told you not to be mad. Then, to have Bubbles bring you over a piece of paper with the word “stubborn” written on it pushed you far over the edge. You crumpled up the paper and went to your room, doing your best not to slam the door behind you.

Then, you plopped onto your bed, facefirst into your pillow, and cried. Everything hit you all at once. You felt like you’d lost everyone you’d ever cared about having to stay at the bunker. You hadn’t been able to talk to them, knowing they would have asked far too many questions that you couldn’t answer. That feeling of loneliness also hit you. It wasn’t so bad when you were at your home, but you’d felt it ten-fold here. It had only gotten worse when Bubbles seemed to talk more to Dean than to you.

After your accident, you had spent the first two years coming to terms with the fact that you’d probably be alone the rest of your life. Now, finding out you were a Pari and supposedly had a soulmate, it all hurt that much more. With Bubbles coming to you and with what Astaria had said about you already having recently met him, more tears fell. You were too afraid to give in to letting either of the brothers touch your skin, and you hoped you’d never see the King of Hell again.

What if it was Sam, but you were attracted to Dean? What if it was Dean, but he didn’t see you that way or even like you in that way? What if it was the King of Hell? The last one bothered you more than the other two. That was who the brothers were protecting you from, and what if he was your soulmate?

You weren’t sure how long you bawled into your pillow or when you fell into a dreamless sleep, having cried so much out of your system. It was the angry words reverberating off the walls of the war room that woke you.

You still felt sleepy, rubbing your eyes a bit as you made your way down the hallway. Hearing Dean sound as angry as he did almost scared you. He was telling someone to get out of the bunker.

“What’s going on?” you asked, rubbing the last of the sleep out of your eyes, trying to focus on the scene in front of you.

Sam was standing up by the closest library table. Dean was in the archway between the war room and the library, and he looked pissed. Then there was Bubbles, who was at the top of the couple of steps that led into the hallway where you were standing. She was growling at a red-headed woman who was standing in the war room, about five feet from the bottom step.

“Oh, there’s the little angel,” Rowena cooed, looking over at you.

“Who are you?” you asked, meeting her gaze. The woman didn’t look mean or scary.

“Yes, dear, introductions are in order. Can’t leave it up to the Neanderthals after all,” she said sweetly, “I’m Rowena.”

You didn’t notice how the brothers were watching you as Rowena’s words made your body freeze in fear where you were standing. The fear also flashed in your eyes, but you attempted to control it. The last thing you needed was for that woman to see you as weak.

“Catch,” Sam hollered, tossing a round pouch-looking thing toward you.

Just as you reached out to catch it, Rowena made it catch fire mid-air, smirking, “Those won’t be necessary. I’m not going to hurt the poor darling. She looks terrified,” she said, sounding almost sad for you. Then she looked at the brothers, “You two are the worst hosts, scaring her like you have.”

All of a sudden, you were no longer in the bunker, the brothers weren’t there, and neither was Bubbles. You were in what looked like a hotel room, a fancy one at that. You even had to squint a little at the sunlight coming in through the windows.

“There, that’s better. Isn’t it deary,” Rowena told you with that sweet tone she had used earlier. It almost sounded like she cared.

“Where are we?” you asked her, in a mild state of shock.

“Just my hotel room for this week. Get comfy. We have a lot to discuss,” she replied, her Scottish accent coming out with every word. She also seemed excited, or at least you guessed she seemed that way.

She had gone and sat in a chair on the other side of the living room area of her hotel room. So, you sat down on the couch, a coffee table between the two of you. You were nervous, but at the same time, you were puzzled and confused. When Sam had said that Rowena was Crowley’s mother, this woman was not what you pictured. You had pictured someone who would have seemed evil. This woman had a sweetness to her tone and a softness to her smile when she looked at you and spoke to you.

“I’m not going to hurt you, deary,” she said softly, giving you another friendly smile, pulling you from your thoughts.

Taking a slow, deep breath, you mustered some courage. Since you had no clue where you were, you might as well take advantage of the situation. “What do you want with me?” you asked her, more curious than anything.

For a moment, Rowena didn’t answer, as if she was debating an answer. “I’ve heard of you and your predicament. You know, my son doesn’t want to hurt you. He just wants to help you,” she explained.

You felt your skin crawl, “I don’t want to be indebted to anyone, especially the King of Hell. I’ll figure things out on my own. So, thank you anyway,” you replied, barely keeping your voice from shaking.

You noticed how her smile faded a little. She glanced at a mostly closed door, then took a breath, straightened up a bit, and turned to you with that friendly smile again. “It would only be a small favor. Nothing too big. I am capable of doing the spell to awaken your powers,” she told you. The sweetness in her tone was almost scary.

“What would you want?” you eventually asked her, your curiosity getting the better of you.

She smiled, almost gleefully, “Just a small vile of your blood.”

Your brow furrowed at her response. You’d expected something more. It seemed like she wasn’t asking you for anything at all, having no clue just how dangerous what she was asking was. “Would you give me some time to think about it?” you asked, more curious than before.

“But of course. I wouldn’t want you to rush into a decision. Now, would you like some tea?” she asked you, making a cup of tea appear on the coffee table for you and one in her hand for herself.

“Uh… sure,” you answered, still confused.

Once the cup of tea was in your hand, you used your powers to test to make sure it wasn’t drugged. To your surprise, it wasn’t. The way the brothers had seemed, Rowena was evil and someone to be wary of, but that wasn’t how she was behaving. At least, that was what you thought.

“So, what did those two overgrown children tell you about me?” Rowena asked you, and you almost laughed a little at how she described them.

“They didn’t tell me much. Just that you were the King of Hell’s mother and a powerful witch,” you answered, sipping the tea, which was surprisingly good.

She rolled her eyes, “Of course, they’d only tell you that,” she scoffed and sounded hurt, then set her tea on the table next to her chair. “They clearly left out all the times I helped them when they needed it.” Rowena then seemed to get upset, which surprised you, “They put me in chains numerous times, even though I’d said I’d help them,” she sniffled.

Your brow furrowed again, confused, “You’re not what I pictured, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Why would they do that?” you asked, your mind racing with very conflicting information about the brothers and Rowena now.

Rowena wiped a tear that had slipped from her eye, “They are hunters, and I am a witch, so why would they trust me to keep my word?” she replied, sounding so hurt by the ordeal that she’d been through.

“They hunt witches too?” you asked, feeling bad for her and now questioning the kind of people the brothers were.

“Well, yes, deary. They hunt all the supernatural, and witches fall into that category because we can do magic,” she explained, giving you a sad smile.

Too many questions went through your mind. Had you been wrong to think you could trust the brothers, wrong to fear the King of Hell, wrong to be scared of Rowena? She smiled, but you missed it as you looked down at the tea in your cup, lost in your thoughts at the moment.

“You know, they’re wrong about my son too. He doesn’t want to hurt you,” she explained softly.

You quickly looked up at her, fear in your eyes for a moment, “I know. He just wants to use me,” you told her, attempting to sound confident, but it didn’t come out as strongly as you wanted.

Rowena looked at you sympathetically, “Oh, sweetie. It’s not like that at all. He just wants to keep you safe, and people tend to end up dead when they rely on those two-” she was cut off as a man stepped into the room.

“Now mother, moose, and squirrel only do what they think is right. It’s not their fault they are incompetent,” he mused, sitting on the other side of the couch from you, creating himself a cup of tea.

Your breath hitched as you tried not to let them see the fear you felt when Crowley entered the room. You even set your tea down, knowing your hands were shaking too much at that moment.

“Those boys have terrified this poor girl. Just look at her. Her hands are shaking,” Rowena stated in a worried and concerned tone.

It was almost too much for you. Rowena was being friendly to you, seemed to care about what you were going through, and even trying to comfort you. Then there was the King of Hell, sitting on the other end of the couch from you, and he wasn’t even looking at you. The fear began subsiding the longer the two talked.

“Wel, mother, they’d do anything for each other. Be damned anyone else,” Crowley told her.

You felt like he was almost ignoring you, and that oddly annoyed you, but for now, you just listened to the two of them.

“When Sam died, Dean made a deal, going to hell. Then, he broke the first seal, which inevitably led to the release of Lucifer,” Crowley explained, seeming annoyed. Although, it almost seemed to you that he was worried about you. “Then there were the Leviathans, who hurt and killed a lot of innocent people,” he continued but paused to take a sip of his tea.

“Don’t forget about them not telling me that by removing the Mark of Cain, it would let out the Darkness. Not only did they have me in chains, but they also tricked me,” she added, sounding really sad about the incident.

They continued back and forth, adding many more incidents, and then they brought up all the people that the brothers had known over the years who had died, helping them or relying on them. You were utterly confused now. The sun was beginning to set outside, but you barely noticed. “So… what exactly do demons do?” you found yourself asking, finally looking over at Crowley.

He smiled, and oddly enough, it almost looked kind, “We make deals with humans. Someone wants something, a demon comes and works out the terms. Then, the human has ten years to enjoy what they want,” he explained. His accent was just as thick as his mother's.

“What happens after ten years?” you asked, a bit quieter than before.

“Their soul is taken to hell,” he said plainly, “As per the contract. We never collect early. Always keeping our word.”

You furrowed your brow and looked away from him, sighing a little. You weren’t stupid. He meant that the person was killed after that ten-year mark, and you knew it. Then, you found your thoughts in disagreement. Part of you saw nothing wrong with demon deals, but the other part had a problem with it.

“Are you hungry, sweetie?” Rowena cooed curiously, pulling you from your thoughts.

That was when you noticed how late it was, “Oh, uh… I should probably get back,” you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers.

“We won’t hurt you,” she told you again softly, causing you to look up at her.

You couldn’t help but believe her. Neither of them had attempted to touch you the entire time, and they had done nothing other than talk. Even Crowley had stayed on his side of the couch. You were now completely confused about how to feel toward them and toward the brothers.

Before you could say anything, Crowley turned toward you, “Why not go back to the bunker. Get some rest,” he suggested fairly nicely and set a business card on the cushion between the two of you. “That’s my number. Just give me a call if you want to chat.”

When he pulled his hand away from the card, you reached over and gingerly picked it up and stared down at it, “I- I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered quietly.

“It’s okay, love. Not everything supernatural is evil and out to hurt people,” Crowley told you in what sounded like a kind and caring tone.

“I’d like to go back,” you told them quietly.

You didn’t even have a chance to look up at the two of them before you were standing back in the bunker in the library, still holding onto the card. After shoving it in your pocket, you looked around, wondering where the brothers had gone.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 22

Tag List: @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you

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