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allthenamesithinkofaretaken · 1 year

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There Was an Attempt:

Looking For Answers Pt. 3

[I based the name of The Fates off by the Greek Mythology, but for their personalities and the way they act, I completely made it all up, so if you’re an expert on mythology please don’t come after me.]

Important!

I have good news and bad news—

Good news: I'm taking requests! So if you want to see Immortal! Reader and Muerte in some scenarios feel free to ask.

Bad News: I won't be posting anything after February 16, so that means after that, TWaA will be going on a hiatus because my second semester is starting then and college will be taking up most of my time, so request away! I'll try to be quick to write it all!

“So, uh, how do we do this? Do I have to perform some sort of ritual or…” She looked uneasily up at Muerte, who let out a sigh as he pushed himself off the tree. They were back in that clearing where she had first met Vida, away from the sights of the townsfolk and just a few steps into the woods. He had told her it would be best to do this in an empty space, and his wording alone left enough shivers down her spine to try and make her rethink her choices in life.

“I’ll be the one taking you there,” he replied, stopping in front of her and raising a finger up. “But first, there are rules.” she blinked owlishly up at him, brows raised in interest. “Don’t touch their web, all the threads there are actual fates of the people in this world and any sort of unwanted interruption would cause a chaos that none of us would be happy to clean up.” She flinched at that, already taking mental notes as he began to pace, she had to sit herself down for the next few ones, already keeping a close attention to everything he said.

“When they’re talking, you always reply to the last one to speak,” He kneels down in front of her, looking deep into her eyes so she knew just how serious this was. He didn’t want her hurt, she may be immortal, but the fates could bring misfortune to the both of them should they do something that would make them mad. “Since we’re going in unannounced, I want you to be more polite than you’ve ever been in your entire life, all right?” He raised his brows, and she found herself nodding along.

“I— wait, why didn’t you tell them? It’s been a week since I last told you, there was plenty of time!”

He visibly tensed at the thought of even going there once again. “The Fates usually don’t enjoy the idea of being disturbed, and even I don’t know what they’d do should something bad happen.”

She cringed, the thought of embarrassing herself in front of the sisters making her stomach churn. “Well it’s a good thing you’re coming with me, huh?”

“And I’m not leaving you alone,” Muerte takes her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re immortal, but The Fates have your thread in there somewhere, and I’m not sure if they have the power to cut your cord or not.”

“Right,” she gives a reassuring squeeze back. “So is that it? Be polite, answer to the sister that spoke last, and don’t touch the web?”

“Yes,” He spoke, his brows still furrowed with worry as he lifted her back up to her feet. “Now, stand a few feet away and I’ll get the circle ready.”

“Circle?” She asks, following his instructions anyway as he unsheathes one of his sickles.

“A mark,” He replies, dropping the edge of his sickle to the ground and beginning to draw a circle below. She was surprised at how perfect it almost looked, following every movement Muerte did as he continued to carve out strokes and arcs into the ground. “Each one of us has our own marks to get in each realm, these circles just make it easier for mortals to get there…” He shrugged as he finished, looking down at his work before turning to her. “If they know which one to use, of course.”

He holds out a hand, and she takes it into her own before carefully stepping into the circle, careful not to smudge the lines. She didn’t know much about magic, but she was sure that anything wrong that might happen in a certain ritual then she’d either turn out dead or severely damaged, and stars know that she didn’t want to feel any more pain from near death experiences.

“You said ‘mortals’, does that mean that you don’t have to do this all the time?” He nodded at her question. “So you’re only doing the circle now because I’m coming with you?”

“You catch on quick,” he grinned, and she gave a proud smile as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him in the middle of the mark he had made. “But yes, this is the safest route I can think of, especially since I don’t know what will happen to you if I teleport the both of us there.”

“Right,” she huffed, wrapping her arms around him. “Do we have to be this close or did you just want a hug?”

Muerte grinned, “It might be a part of the ritual, who knows?”

“Does the ritual require a kiss?” She grinned, and he leaned down to give her a peck on the lips, the embarrassment and surprise on her face causing Muerte to laugh.

“You asked for it,” he hummed, tucking a lone strand of hair behind her ear as she grumbled underneath her breath. “But we’re burning daylight,” he paused, looking up at the sky for a moment. “Should we?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, feeling the nervousness begin to form a pit in her stomach. She could feel Muerte squeezing her shoulder for reassurance, and there was a brief moment of silence before a blinding purple light turned her vision white, her hands clenching around Muerte’s sides as panic overtook her. She shuts her eyes tight, not daring to open them as she feels a surge of coldness blow through her, and then… silence.

She didn’t want to move a muscle.

Until she feels Muerte place a gentle kiss on her scalp, feeling his hand run down the top of her head to the back of her neck. “We’re here.”

Peeking through one eye, she saw nothing but darkness that began to stretch on and on from miles on miles as if wherever they were had no beginning, or an end. Her heart rate picked up as her grip on Muerte’s poncho tightened. She didn’t know if it was the void in front of her that made her shiver, or if it was just the nervousness in her that made her fingers cold against her palm.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, placing a hand on top of her own and easing her grip out of him. “I’m here.”

“But where are The Fates?” She takes a cautious step back, not wanting to smudge the mark underneath them, only to realize that the circle was gone. Muerte takes a hold of her hand.

“We’ll be seeing them soon enough.” He starts to stalk forward, and she follows him in his steps, never once letting her eyes stray from one part of the darkness too long. The place made her queasy, the more she lingered on one spot for too long, she felt as if she was falling in place with her eyes closed, Muerte’s grip on her hands being the only one keeping her in place and sane. She feels for the small dagger on her hip. Muerte had given her this a few days ago after one of their training sessions, despite her complaints and constant nagging at how she didn’t like the thought of killing people, he had still given her a short dagger anyway, saying that he’d feel more content with the thought of her with a blade than with none at all.

She never thought she’d ever try to use the blade, and yet she always brings it along with her anyway.

It wasn’t until she hears 3 voices echoing nearby did her heart feel as if it dropped to her stomach, the nervousness she felt before only doubled now, her eyes wide as she found herself tracing the patterns of the gigantic web in front of her that looked as if it stretched out for miles and miles above with longer threads on either side to keep it from falling apart. She wondered how long those threads were, and whose lives that would be, she wondered where hers was, and if the Fates knew that they had spun a thread that belonged to an immortal being.

She could feel Muerte’s grip on her hand loosen, and she looked up to him in a panic, her widened eyes looking up at his own as he seemed to stop in his tracks.

“What are you—”

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, and her lips pursed in a straight line. “There’s still time to go back.”

“I—” she paused, looking down the nonexistent ground before shutting her eyes with a sigh, replying with a determined nod of the head. “I want to hide whatever it is that can kill me. My secret won’t stay a secret forever, and I know when that happens, then something out there will be determined to do what they can to get what I have.”

He cups her cheek, eyes looking over her head to watch the spiders spin their threads before shifting his gaze back down at her. “It’s not like I’ll let them get anywhere near you.”

She places a hand atop his own, giving him a small smile as she places a quick kiss to the palm of his hand. “I know,” she sighed. “But you can’t protect me forever. I want to do this.”

Muerte blows out a breath, nodding his head and then lacing his hand back to her own, continuing their path towards the weaving spiders.

The closer they got, the closer she could hear the mutters and mumbles coming from the three, she could also see just how different their web was from normal spiders. It was shining as if they were made from crystals, and she swore if she could look at them close enough, there were images flashing across the thread as if it was a person’s entire life being displayed right in front of her eyes. She wanted to touch it, wanted to reach out her hands and wonder what it was like to hold it, but Muerte’s warnings echoed in her head, and she had to shut her hand in a tight fist, keeping herself behind the wolf and her gaze up at the mumbling spiders as they worked.

“Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos!” Muerte called out, his voice booming over the silence and even causing the web to vibrate just a bit, her breath hitching as she watched the vibrations travel upwards until it catches the attention of those at the top, moving so fast as they climbed down that she could feel the goosebumps running down her entire body. She never liked spiders, and now she had three giant ones looking down at her, their beady eyes scanning the both of them before a grin stretched out on their faces.

“My, my, my,” the largest one hummed, and she’s read about them quite enough for the past few days to know which was which. Most of their depictions were humans, however, but if she were to take a guess, the largest one would be the oldest, and the oldest one in the books was always Atropos, the one who decided how the mortals would die and when. “A familiar face, a familiar life—”

“—Unexpected as it may seem—” the middle one continued, and she guessed this one to be Lachesis, the one who measured how long a mortal’s life would be.

“—What brings you to our web again—?” She blinked owlishly at the last set of words that left Clotho, the youngest and the one that weave the threads as the mortal is in the womb.She couldn’t quite hear it or make out what language it was, but Muerte seemed to respond, and she wondered if that was his true name.

“The riddle,” he huffed, rolling his eyes, but before he could continue, she took a step forward, not wanting to have him do all the talking.

“It’s not specific enough,” her voice broke through the conversation like an uninvited knife through the air, their heads snapping in her direction and causing a hushed silence to fall as the sisters came stalking forward. She could feel Muerte’s grip on her growing tight, trying to get her to go back behind him but she wasn’t having it, letting go of his hand and looking up at the three in determination. “I’m the immortal that wants to get another riddle, something that would actually help, please.”

The oldest scoffed, stalking forward to the edge of the web where she was able to look at her eye to eye, her breathing coming to a full stop at the sight of the spider towering her very form.

“The one you seek is not one—”

“—nor two—” the middle interrupts the eldest, taking a thread into her own as the youngest begins to weave it.

“—nor three,” the youngest continues, the eldest going back to finally snip at the end of the thread that the two had measured and weaved before helping them attach it somewhere in the web, watching as it seamlessly attached to the others with ease. “It’s numbers differ, that we can guarantee—”

“—it can be a dagger, a sword, or a dish, or it could be the utterance of a true wish.” she looks to the eldest once again, watching as her legs tug on one of the webs before unlatching it, and the shine of the thread disappears, her head turning to Muerte with an almost wicked smile. (Y/n) didn’t need to look at Muerte to feel him tensing up from behind. “Duty calls,—” Atropos calls him by that name she can’t make out yet again.

“I’m not leaving (Y/n) behind,” Muerte’s words rumbled from within his chest, and when she lifted her head to look up at him, he had his glare set on the eldest of the three, whilst the other two continued to work on their threads. She didn’t even hear him unsheathe his sickles, and yet there they were in the palm of his hands, his grip tight against the hilt.

“It’s not like we’re going to hurt her,” The largest spider stalked forward, and she found herself taking a few steps back until her back hit Muerte’s chest. “If she is as indestructible as you say she is, then she’ll still be breathing by the time you come back.”

“Unless you’re afraid we’ll cut her cord,” The eldest’s grin grew wider at the sudden tenseness that seemed to radiate the wolf. “Now wouldn’t that be an idea.”

“And you wonder why I don’t want to leave her here with you?” Muerte scoffs, watching as the eldest turned away to cut the recent thread the other two had weaved together. “This’ll be quick anyway, so continue your riddle and we can be on our merry way.”

“Ah, ah—” The eldest waved a leg at him, all of her eyes squinting with amusement. “She stays here with us and you go do your job unless you want us to snitch on Father Time that you’d once again let your emotions get in the way of your purpose.”

Muerte tensed, and she could hear the angered breaths coming from him the more his patience grew thin. It wasn’t long before he began to mutter out strings of curses in Spanish, pacing as he ran his hand down his face, glaring holes into the eldest as if he wanted her to explode.

He turned his gaze to her, and she could only give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine… I promise.”

He knew that she didn’t know that, and she could tell with the way he never let up his stubborn gaze on her that he didn’t believe any of the words that she had said, so with a sigh, she takes one step closer towards him, fully turning her back to the three to reach her hand out to his arm, giving it a squeeze.

“You can do it quickly if you want, but I promise I’ll follow the rules and I’ll keep a safe distance away from them,” she whispers to him, biting down on her bottom lip for a second. “Besides, I’ll only ask them more about the riddle anyway, it’s not like they could find a reason to hurt me because of that.”

Muerte sighed, ducking down to her level and replying in the same hushed tone that she was, “Only ask the important questions, they don’t like to be tested.” His gaze softened, “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“I know,” she gave a smile, “Now go, I won’t break any more rules than I already have by butting in earlier.”

Muerte cringed at that, “Don’t do that again.”

“Who says we’ll be visiting here again?” She grinned, and he actually found himself chuckling at that, going back to his full height before turning around with one final glare to the sisters. He looks at her goodbye, and before she knew it, the darkness in front of her seemed to swallow him whole, leaving her with the three.

Turning around, she looked up at the web, freezing in shock at the sight that the spiders had stopped with their weaving to size her up.

“Uh… hi?” She gives an awkward wave of a hand, and before she knew it, her body was wrapped in the spider’s silk, a cry pushing past her lips as a cold breeze blew past her, one of the sister’s hauling her up and hanging her cocooned body up by her legs so that she faced them upside down, her blood running cold at the three that surrounded her.

“W-Wait! What are you doing?!” She panics, trying to break free from the silk that wrapped tightly around her body, but she couldn’t break her arms free, widened eyes looking up from where she was dangling to see a singular thread of silk at her feet and stretching up far above the darkness. She didn’t think it was possible to stick a web to nothing, or if there was a wall there somewhere and it was just too far away to see.

One of the sisters pushed her slightly back, her attention going back to the three. She was immediately face to face with Clotho.

“So you’re the immortal that Muerte has been asking about,” Atropos hummed, leaning closer to examine her. With her heart pounding heavily against her chest and the blood flowing down to her head, she hoped she wouldn’t end up throwing up. “I must say… we're glad to finally meet you, I never thought I'd ever see the day, but here we are."

“What?” She looked in shock at the eldest. “What do you mean?”

“Usually when there’s an immortal, they don’t come with invincibility like Muerte had described you to have.”

“Is.. that bad?” She was almost afraid to ask, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away from the three as they circled her.

“No,” Clotho hummed. “But if you think about it, really, no one makes an immortal also indestructible, now do they?”

Lachesis chuckled. “Unless, of course, there’s something important inside of them that needs to be protected.”

She froze, her eyes growing wide as she processed that information. “Wait— what?”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? Answers?” Atropos grinned, holding a thread up and tugging on it. She let out a gasp, a surge of pain exploding through her chest as she watched the thread turn gold, following the yellow light until she had realized that the thread looped around the entirety of the web. An endless cycle with no end nor beginning.

“I don’t understand,” she traced the golden light of the thread yet again, checking to see if she had simply missed something, that her thread didn’t actually loop around the entirety of the web, and yet no matter how many times she looked, it was always the same. “I don’t—”

“We’re surprised you don’t know,” Lachesis hummed, crouching down and tilting her head up at her to be able to look her in the eye. “I thought Muerte was asking because he normally doesn’t like it when humans have a hold of such power.”

“But you’ve always been immortal, haven’t you?” Lachesis grinned. “Even before you were born.”

“I don’t think you’re making too much sense,” she shut her eyes, unable to keep her focus from being dangled. Atropos sighed, cutting the thread that was holding her up and the cocoon that wrapped around her body, breaking her free from the restraints. She let out a relieved sigh, muttering a small ‘thank you’ to the eldest as she placed her back down to the ground. She stumbled back from the dizziness, raising a hand up to her head.

“The first riddle, do you remember it by word?”

“Yeah,” She huffed. “What you seek has once been sought, and when it has, the lines get crossed. And so it seeks to find where others would not, to keep it safe and it’s magic unfraught.” The words were basically etched into her brain from the amount of times she’s stared into that small piece of paper, muttering it to herself every night.

“What do you think it is?” Atropos tilted her head to the side, and (Y/n) simply gave a glare.

“You think if I knew, I’d be here trying to ask for another riddle?”

At that Lachesis and Atropos scoffed whilst Clotho only let out an amused giggle, the two older sisters glaring at the younger who immediately stopped at their stern stare.

“Our riddle is clear enough,” Atropos grumbled, clearly not liking having to spell it out for her. “I won’t give you another one—”

“—But—” she tried to retort.

“—but, I’ll be generous enough to give you a hint.” Atropos huffed. “It takes some courage to try and get our brother to even agree to let him take you here, and even more to strike up the idea to try and talk to us face to face. " The eldest continued, "But this will still come at a cost."

Now that made the worry in her stomach churn, looking up at them with concern. "Like?"

"You have all the time in the world," Lachesis smirked, her eyes sparkling just a bit too much in excitement. "So we won't cash it in just yet."

Stars, she knew just how much of a bad idea it would be to bargain something that she wouldn't be so sure of the results, but if it would be the only way to get answers, then fine, she'll bite. Besides, how bad could their favor even be?

"Fine," she huffed out after a minute of thinking, already feeling the regret creeping up her spine as their looks of satisfaction only worsened the feeling. "So what's the hint?"

"The riddle isn't about what can kill you," Atropos hummed. "It's about you."

"What?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing, turning to the others for some help.

"What you seek has once been sought, and when it has, the lines get crossed. And so it seeks to find where others would not, to keep it safe and it’s magic unfraught." Clotho repeats the rhyme without missing a beat, and Lachesis continues much to her surprise.

"Keep it in mind, little one: No one makes an immortal indestructible, unless their blood is more than valuable."

Her shoulders tensed, the words echoing in her head until the warmth of a hand finds itself on her shoulder, and she flinches.

Muerte looks down at her with worried eyes, and she reaches out to his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, the tenseness disappearing as she finds herself safe under his watch.

"We're done here," Atropos waved a leg out, much to Muerte's surprise, widened eyes looking up at the three. "It was nice to get to know you, (Y/n). We'll call you when we need to cash in on our favor."

It felt as if she was being dragged away, the web slowly getting farther and farther away as Muerte's grip on her shoulder tightened. Her eyes snapped open, not even realizing that she had closed them only to find herself back in that clearing where they had been earlier that day, Muerte looking down at her with concerned yet angered eyes, his hand gripping tight at her own.

"What did you do?" He asked, there was anger lingering in his tone, and his grip on her hand tightened. When she looked down, the back of her palm had a singular line down at the middle in a darkish purple ink, and when she went to rub at it, it wouldn't fade away.

A mark that symbolizes the favor, she thought.

"(Y/n)," Muerte's voice pulled her back from her thoughts, and she mumbled a small apology, surprised at the fatigue that coursed through her. "It's alright, the feeling will go away in a few hours." He reassured, she could sense that he was waiting to ask what happened, but she was glad to have had a break from the talking and the constant thinking, just laying in his arms and watching the blades of grass swaying with the wind.

When she gathered herself properly, she sighed, shutting her eyes. "They said something about my blood," she starts, catching Muerte's attention. "Something about it being important or valuable because if that wasn't the case, what would be the point of indestructible skin?"

"Well—" he catches his tongue, his grip on her growing tight just the slightest as the answer finally grows much closer to him, his breath hitching.

"Muerte?" She called out, tilting her head up to look at him, only to find him already looking down at her with a look of disbelief. Her look of confusion shifted into worry.

"I might… have an idea."

#puss in boots #puss in boots death #puss in boots death x reader #puss in boots the last wish #death the wolf #death x reader #muerte x reader #pib:tlw #puss in boots the last wish x reader #fanfic #puss in boots the last wish muerte x reader #puss in boots the last wish death #puss in boots the last wish death x reader

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asongofmarvelanddc · 5 months

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The cliffhanger you left us with in sworn enemies should me considered criminal activity

I know, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 My most egregious crime fr!

But I HAVE been writing the next chapter so here's a sneak peek below:

Sworn Enemies PT 11 Sneak Peek

Alfred is still shaking when he enters the room. His eyes sting with unshed tears, small breaths escaping his lips in short gasps. Your body is lying on a table, motionless. He can’t even see the slight rise and fall of your chest to let him know you’re still breathing.

In a second, he turns away from the sight, his heart sinking into his stomach. She’s dead, he thinks, They’re both dead. The fear chokes him while shaking him to his core. He can’t bring himself to ask the physician anything. He’s crippled with fear.

“Your Grace,” the physician says and bows his head, but he speaks no further, waiting until he is addressed by his King.

Alfred curses the title he bears. Slowly, he glances at your seemingly lifeless body then back to the floor.

“How—” he pauses to clear his throat when the word comes out strangled, “How is she?”

The physician wipes his hand with a bloodied piece of cloth. “Her Grace was struck by two arrows — the more serious injuries amongst others. The arrow in her front was fairly simple to remove. The one in her back was the real task.”

The spindly man goes on a rather long-winded explanation of the surgery as he packs his tools away, occasionally stopping to brush back the dull, brown wisps of hair on his head. He seems impressed with his skills as he describes drawing the arrow up and out through your rib cage to avoid affecting the pregnancy.

All the while, Alfred doesn’t have the words to cut in.

“And my wife?” he swallows, “Will she recover?”

The physician tilts his head, “If she survives the next few days, then I can almost guarantee it.”

It isn’t the news Alfred hoped for, but it is better than he expected. He breathes a sigh of relief, and finally, he looks at you properly. Suddenly, you look to be in a peaceful sleep. Full of life, but resting. Then he looks at where your hands rest on your stomach and the sinking feeling returns.

“And the child?” his voice breaks, never taking his eyes off you, “Will my daughter live?”

This time, the physician sucks in a deep breath.

“Unfortunately, there is not much I can do but wait when it comes to your daughter. There has been no movement that I have observed so far,” he says, “I intend to watch for that over the next few days but as of right now…I’m afraid I cannot be certain that your child lives.”

Alfred swallows again, but this time, it’s to distract himself from the tears threatening to fall.

“Thank you, Wyllis. I’d like to be alone with my wife now.”

“Your Grace.” He bows and exits the room.

As soon as the door closes shut behind him, Alfred sinks to his knees on the floor, hands clasped together in front of him and his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“My Lord. Father. There is nothing on this Earth that you cannot do,” he begins, a slight tremor in his voice as he speaks, “No heartache that you cannot mend. No illness that you cannot heal.”

He briefly glances at you – so still. A whimper escapes him as he closes his eyes again and squeezes his hands together even tighter, as if doing so would mean he's praying harder.

“Please, Father. I cannot do this without her,” before he knows it the tears are flowing uncontrollably, his quiet sobs confined to the room, “Whatever price I must pay I shall pay it if only to see my wife again. To hold our child in my arms. I beg you to cover them in your protection. With your love. Your mercy. I beg you…bring her back to me, Lord.”

***

And there you have it! This is my first apology for the ridiculously long hiatus, please forgive me if you can ❤️😩

#hal's asks #sworn enemies #king alfred x reader #vikings #vikings imagine #king alfred #alfred vikings

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chaoticrobotics · 9 months

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Please don't rush your comics take it slow and steady I know many people are eager to see more from your comics but please don't forget your human you need to take breaks from time to time art burnout isn't a joke I myself was once a artist and i quit that because it didn't bring me much joy anymore because of excessive burnout so please from one artist to another Take a breather maybe plan what your gonna do for the story going forward maybe take some inspiration from the game or something though whatever the outcome I will honor it.

Oh don't worry about the story itself. I have it all planned out and am absolutely not changing it (other than possible dialogue changes, I have the major plot points all set though). So that's not the issue.

It was the actual art itself. You are right, art burnout isn't a joke, and honestly I'm pretty sure I've never been closer to quitting art than when I was making Security Alert. The only difference with me is, art is one of the very few things that bring me any sense of joy. It's literally either a select few video games, or making art/stories, and at the time of making Security Alert I was in a video game burnout too and struggling through college.

All of that built up to make me miserable to draw and probably super depressed looking back at it (though I wouldn't hit a true low until my last semester, if I was still trying to do the comic then I don't think I would have made it).

Anyway, thank you for your words. I do appreciate them! I am going to take my time with this comic. Maybe even try out a different format or something. Smaller parts or less detail in the art. I just want to get the story out, and since I am not a writer, I have to draw it. But I'll definitely be taking my time when drawing it.

I'll be honest, I don't know how many people might have realized it, but I am a serial procrastinator that needs deadlines to get shit done, and I get stuff done all in one go or not at all. So all those big parts I posted? Those were all done in basically one sitting. Some of them were done in 3 days with me getting a total of like 3-4 hours of sleep on the weekend, not even counting the editing I did for videos. So you can probably see why I started to resent the comic and start to burn out from it.

I'm literally just rambling now, but I wanted people to know a little bit about what I went through since I know not everyone will be as understanding as you or other people who have sent in kind words to me in the past. I've learned my lesson then, and since I am not in college anymore, I won't feel rushed to get things out before the weekend is done or be rushing myself to make people happy.

It honestly all really sucks because I was always so happy to post the comic/tiktok and pass out finally, then to wake up to a flood of nice messages. But it would all too soon go away because only a day (sometimes not even) after posting people would be demanding the next part. It just sucks since I did have fun a lot, but also had that fun drained away just as quickly.

I don't even know what I am trying to say anymore. Thank you for the nice words. I will keep to my word about not rushing myself or pushing myself too much. I do feel like I am, at some point, going to try doing what I did before and pull all nighters and fuck up my sleep schedule drastically, but I'm hoping I will recognize the signs this time and take a step back once I possibly start doing that.

So don't be upset (saying this to the general audience/whoever reading this, not specifically you) if at some point in the future, if the comic does continue, that there might be another hiatus. Will definitely try not to go on a basically year long hiatus like I did last time, but depending on how my mental state is, it might be a pretty long one.

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prettylightsbigcity · 1 year

Text

A Second Chance

I'm back from my unintentional hiatus, and I come bearing fic! This is my Secret Snowflake Exchange fic for @fatalfangirl 🎉🎉🎉 HUGE thank you to @foolofabookwyrm-activated and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for being such lovely mods and humans 🖤 Read a preview below, or the whole thing over on ao3. Rated E, so minors, please begone!

What would you do if you were confronted with a ghost from your past? Would you give them another chance, or would you let bygones be bygones? The last person Baz expected to see this New Year's Eve was Simon Snow...

Simon and Baz never got together in CO. In this AU, Simon still saved the World of Mages, but his truce with Baz fizzled out when he left Watford (no wings/tail either; sorry monsterfucker friends!)

***

Baz

I’m in the process of trying to convince myself that the unmistakable head of curls across the bar is absolutely not who I think it is when Dev leans over and practically shouts in my ear.

“Is that Simon fucking Snow?”

I sigh. Of course, of all the bars in bloody London, Snow would choose this one. I didn’t even realize he was back in the country! I’m slipping, clearly.

“It is Simon Snow!” Dev bellows, so loudly that half the bar turns to look at us.

Fortunately, Snow is not among them. I turn my back to the bar, leaning away from my cousin and pinching the bridge of my nose. Undeterred, Dev elbows me, nearly knocking my drink out of my hand.

“Circe, Dev, watch it,” I hiss.

He makes an exaggerated face at me.

“Baz,” he says slowly, “Bazzy boy, that is Simon fucking Snow over there, the man, myth, and legend, ex-Chosen One, and more importantly, your former room mate and subject of your years-long obsession, and you’re telling me you aren’t even a little bit interested in what he’s doing here?”

I stare at him. He blinks, twice.

“Bullshit,” he declares, launching himself into the mass of patrons packed into the narrow bar before I can even ask what exactly he thinks he’s going to do.

With a lurch, I realize he’s working his way over to the other side of the room, making a beeline for Snow. Cursing, I leave my drink on the bar and take off after him. We waited forever for those seats, and a couple of girls in short dresses have already claimed our spots behind me. I’m going to murder Dev. I squeeze between two brutish lads trying to get the barkeep’s attention and make a grab for Dev’s collar. I miss, and he throws a triumphant smirk over his shoulder before reaching out and tapping Snow’s arm. I watch in slow motion as he turns his head and recognition washes over his face.

Fuck.

He’s still handsome; tanned, and with more freckles than I remember. His eyebrows draw together as he realizes it’s Dev behind him. There’s no time for me to get away– no time to even move. Simon’s eyes meet mine, and it hits me like a blow to the stomach. He grimaces, his lips moving as he says something to Dev that even my advanced hearing can’t pick out from the overall cacophony of the crowd. Dev smiles roguishly and jabs his thumb over his shoulder at me. To my surprise, they both laugh, and Simon seems to relax a bit. Dev turns to me, a question on his face. I’m still frozen, being jostled from side to side by intoxicated partiers trying to get to the bar.

“Baz, come say hello,” he repeats, remorseless and grinning.

My teeth snap shut, and I shake my head slightly.

“I’m stepping out.”

***

Read the rest on ao3!

#my fic #spicy links #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #AU fic #getting together later in life #secret snowflake exchange 2022 #co

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laismoura-art · 4 months

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Ok so... apparently asks can't be edited??

Uh, Tumblr? Why even bother allow me save them in the drafts if I won't be able edit them??

Anyways @gabriel2476 it warms my heart to know you're so excited for more of my fic!! You guys are always so nice to me!!💛💙🩷

The next chapter is on the making, I'm making sure to prioritise this update to make up for the unplanned 7 months hiatus! :')

It is still pretty much in the beginning, only 1,200 words so far! But in the meantime, please, enjoy this teaser with some In-laws drama and Hanzo as narrator!

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Try getting yourself a step ladder, it might help." He bares his teeth as he speaks, a true wounded animal. Striking low if needed.

I don't have the patience for that. "Don't be a ペニス. We are on the same side."

"I am well aware, little bug." He retorts, straightening his posture and staring at the Temple as another tower falls in shambles.

It seems he is not taking this as lightly as he wanted Kuai to believe. He is a Lin Kuei after all. He draws a line at being aided by a Shirai Ryu.

"Look, I understand you don't like or trust me, but—"

"You understand nothing." He gnarls, sounding angrier and angrier.

He is right. I don't understand.

"... Enlighten me, then."

"I was sincere when I said… I do rather like you." To Hear it the first time was quite a shock, but one that I brushed off as being mere sarcasm.

Hearing it again however… there's no denying the sincerity of his words.

"Does it worry you?" I try to encourage him to keep going.

"It infuriates me." He snaps, his voice deepening in a way that makes it sound unhuman. "You are a Shirai Ryu. A Scorpion. I am not supposed to like you in any way." He steps closer, I don't like it!

"I am supposed to despise you. I am supposed to hunt you down. To kill you. To destroy everything you hold dear." Another step closer and my hand instinctively flies to my sword.

I am his Guardian too. I am not to harm him.

And yet, my knuckles go white with how tightly I hold onto my sword as he looms over me.

"And yet…" His voice lowers and he steps back. "He is safer with you than he has ever been in there."

Bi-Han gazes back at the Temple, there's sorrow in his eyes.

"That Temple was our family's home. The Lin Kuei were our family's protectors. This was our family's legacy.

Nothing is as it was supposed to be."

TO BE CONTINUED...

I know it's vague, but I also didn't want to give much away, this chapter is settled to have a lot of revelations👀🩵

#answering asks #or trying to #What The Winter Winds May Bring #fic teaser #hanzo hasashi #bi han #bitter-in-laws #featuring #short king hanzo #subscorp #subscorprumi

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choshasan · 8 months

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Hi!

I barely know how tumblr works, but I'm trying my best, please be patient! I'm on hiatus everywhere at the moment but if you wish to see my stuff, you can find my art on Instagram: @/Mhay_B and my *very chaotic* writing on Wattpad; @/Chosha__San!

for people who want to know some stuff about me, here:

My name is Ash, I go by He/Him and identify as a dude, I'm bad at socializing!

stuff I do: Learn Very Slowly Japanese; Korean & Mandarin Chinese, Play Video Games, Draw & Paint (watercolors, not very well), Write Horribly Misspelled Fanfics That Are Absolute Chaos :), Watch Anime, Read Manga, Watch Vtubers, Video Editing for TheDemonFox (@/thedemonfoxofficial) on YouTube!

Games I Like; Genshin Impact, Honkai: Star Rail, OSU!, Project Sekai, Sally Face, Little Misfortune, Fran Bow, and some more stuff!

Music I like; literally at least a bit of everything, bot mostly Korean & Japanese music! my favourite song is USSEEWA by Ado!

Vtubers I love the most right now; PorcelainMaid, Shxtou🗡️, Mysta Rias🕵🦊 (R.I.P.), Vox Akuma👹🧧, Alban Knox🎭🕒, Aster Arcadia💫💜, Enna Alouette🕊️🎐, Selene Tatsuki🏆, Rin Penrose👑, Punkalopi🐰🔥, Ike Eveland🖋, Cy Yu, Kage🦊, Uki Violeta🔮🌌, Shu Yamino👟☯️, Monarch🦋, and so many more that aren't coming to mind right now...

Special Skills // Talents; Surviving on as little as 2minutes of sleep. I've seen over 530 anime and am aiming for 1000 by the end of the year (2023)

Special interests; Hitoshi Shinsō. I love this man with all my heart and would give my life away for him, I'm not kidding, if there is some cannon fact about him, I know it, ALL about it. and I will 100% gatekeep this man, and I am, in fact, sorry that I do that, but it is a reflex//defense mechanism that I seem to be unable to unlearn, yes I will keep on blocking people that ship their OCs with him on IG, yes I will keep on getting jealous when I see him get shipped with other characters, no I won't write fanfics about him with anyone other than me, I could go on, but I won't, I love this man and there is a terrible sob story that makes everyone uncomfortable when I tell it behind why I am so attached to him, but that shall remain a personal detail, if you don't like that I'm obsessive over him and gatekeep him, just block me. (also no I won't attack anyone that likes him//simps for him//ships him with other characters or their OCs//consume content of him, I don't care about that, you do you, without y'all I wouldn't have fanfics to read about him or fanart of him to look at, I am thankful for y'all, I shall still remaine silently jealous in my little corner.

and that concludes my introduction to Tumblr I guess? this was way longer than I had thought it to be, anyway, Hi, nice to meet you!

#hello #hey #self introduction #this is me #nice to meet you #I love Hitoshi Shinsō in an obsessive manner thank you for your understanding<3

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twstedtales · 2 years

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Athy's Year End Appreciation Post!

Hello, everyone! First of all, happy new year to all of you! I know I'm not very much active in Tumblr nowadays because of personal stuff at home but rest assured that I will pick up whatever writing I had left off, haha 😅😂 the previous year I spent with everyone was a total blast! And I love interacting and spending time with everyone else, including my anons (I DIDN'T FORGET YALL I PROMISE, YOU ALL ARE SO SWEET 💖), my moots and my lovely followers.

I know I'm not the best with interacting and that is on me lol, but I wanted you to know that everything you do in my blog (whether it was liking, reblogging, commenting, asking or whatever!) are always appreciated! Even those who goes to my dms and talk to me (i love it when you talk to me i swear!) were all makes me smol heart goes uwu uwu 😭😂

individual comments and appreciation utc bc its too long 😭😂💦

For my lovely @chervill whom I really consider as my online best friend and wifey, I can't thank you enough with how much you put up with my shit and clownery 😭 be it on discord or here, rest assured that you are most appreciated to me and all of your support and love! 💞 you were the first one to approach me when i said i needed friends in this community and you were extra special because of that xD and I can still remember the first time we talk LMAO that was so freaking awkward HELP 💀💀 but in all honesty, ilysm friend 💞

For my lovely grandma (/j) @eirasummers I know were both awkward beans but I am always happy whenever we talk💖💖 like, you were so supportive and great person how tf are u real 😭😭😭 you were that one responsible and caring adult that look out for the smol potats and whenever you remind us to take care of ourselves, it always makes my heart warm and fuzzy 😫😭😳 ilysm i hope you continue to prosper more in the future! 💖

For the cute and funny @pancaketachi who always been there to greet me whenever i went to a sudden hiatus, bb you were always loved by us, don't forget! 💖 we always appreciate your support, hornii (ehe), and your art are always great! Don't mind what other people says, but to us, you are a great artist and a friend 💞 ilysm i wished you the best and happy new year ahead!

For the talented and nice @rozengrotto who was the biggest azul kinnie I know, you are most talented and your art always uplift my spirits! 💓 I still haven't talk to you about the date I promise /j but...uh, soon? 😂😭 anyhow, you were always so nice and a pleasant to talk to! I hope we can be more friends (is that even a word?!) in the future and hope you more azul to come ehehe!

For the lovely @anise05 who always rebblogged and support my works omg, I can't put into words how much it warms my heart whenever you appear in my notifs and I always appreciate the asks you sent and it makes me happy and my stay here worthwile 💞 I hope we can talk more in the future 💖

For the talented @missbonekitty andreaaaa i admire your art so please don't stop doing what you love (including torturing ur children?!) please remember that you are always appreciated and loved by many people, presence and all! I hope you a happy year ahead of you <3

For the cute @tisafinedayforsimping the biggest jade simp i know?! I'm entrusting that shady eel to you since he doesnt like me at all 😭 but i know that he was always in the good hands with you ehehehe 💞 ilysm and please continue what you loved to do the most! (aka simping and drawing jade) you were doing great sweetie! 💞💞

For @kirayamidemon kiraaa i love how energetic and hyper you were in discord and you were not the one to shy away in doing what you want and for that, i had admire you and love u 😭💞💞 please dont sat that ur art is not enough, bc i assure you, your art is always god-like! And your support too, we appreciate you keysmashing and all 😌😂💖

For the nicest and lovely @thewitchofbooks nadia chaaaannnn i know im so stupid bc im not that active on our discord anymore 😭😭 but really, i appreciate how understanding you are and tolerating me (???) ilysm and thank you for being there for me and supporting me all the way until now! I don't know whats up anymore but know that I'm always be here for you whenever you need me <3

For the talented @chibichibisha shaaaaa i love all your ocs (esp nahal!!! i havent forgot him aha 😭😂😂) and keep up the great work! We all love you and i hope you the best new year ahead!

For the talented Kokone (HELP I DONT KNOW UR TUMBLR??? 😭😭😭) i know we dont talk much but I always appreciate and admire your art and our little talks in the server 💞 i hope you know you are loved ehehehe.

And for the lovely @hanafubukki i know i haven't replied to your message (im sorry i swear im gonna go online soon! 😭😭) and we just met like...a month ago but know that your posts, tags to me, messages and all are making me happy! You were always so supportive and fun to talk to, so please continue to do what you loved! 💖

For the mature and lovely @bakujho who was prolly the biggest floyd haver i know 🤔🤭 I always enjoyed talking to you (tho i admit im slightly intimidated aksksks) and holy shit yess ofc, your art are always greaaat! I still remember how we bond together with our salt over halloween jade and for me, thats prolly the biggest turn in our relationship(?) hahahahaha it was just so funny how the mfker dodged the two of us yet in the end, we manage to drag him by the ankles at least! ily and i hope you continue what you loved to do the most! 💞💞

For my most talented moots/friends(?) i think @nanamisflowerfield @honeytreydepressopresso @hettyoon @corvus-mellorii @drac0nia @halloweenismyfav (HELP LMK IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I SWEAR I HAVE A SNAIL BRAIN AND DIDNT MEANT TO LEAVE YOU OUT SSHWJWJ) and to all my anons and followers, ILY ALL SM AND DONT FORGOT THAT I ALWAYS APPRECIATE YOU ALL (pls come talk to me if u want hahaha i dont bite really ejshw) AND CARE FOR YOU. ILL ALWAYS BE HERE IF U WANT ANYONE TO LISTEN AND VENT TO HEHEHE.

iLYSM AND I HOPE THIS YEAR WILL BE MORE PROSPEROUS AND HAPPY TO YOU ALL 💞💞💞

the milestone event i talked about a week ago will be posted next week (finally?!)

- Athy <3

#records from the chronicler #appreciation post!

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lesbianakaashi · 3 years

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The Forgotten Shounen: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

This is not a “Why you should watch/read khr” or anything like that. This is just me going into the deep dive and throwing my findings at you. I’m making this because khr used to be my favourite series when I was 15 (I had plushees, posters, tradingcards, the art book etc) and now as an adult I constantly find myself baffled at how unknow it seems to be.

1. Okay first what is khr?

Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or just Reborn! is a series by Akira Amano which was published in Weekly Shounen Jump from 2004 to 2012 (with 42 volumes) and got an anime adaption which run from 2006 to 2010 on Tv Tokyo (with 202 episodes and one OVA).

2. What’s it about?

Khr is a parody of the italian mafia and plays in a world where the mafia is heavily influencial. The protagonist is the japanese middle schooler Sawada Tsunayoshi who is known as “No good Tsuna” because of his failing grades, general weak and cowardly personality and weak physics.

He becomes aware of the mafia world when a 2 year old baby called Reborn arrives at his house claiming to be the greatest hitman and declaring himself his home tutor. Reborn was send by the 9th head of the Vongola famiglia who is ready to retire and looking for a new heir. Which of course, is supposed to be Tsuna and now it's Reborns job to shape him into a worthy sucessor.

Tsuna rejects the violence of the mafia world and refuses the position as the 10th. Thanks to Reborn and his general craziness Tsuna meets different people and starts to make real friendships. Reborn wants 6 of those friends to be Tsuna's future guardians, basically a group of people which will be closest to him in the vongola famiglia. Tsuna might have no interest in those positions but the friendships he builds with them become really precious to him.

Reborns arrivial also brings in the enemies of the Vongola family which leads to Tsuna being forced to engage in battles. Generally Tsuna openly avoids fights and prefers to run away but will put himself in danger for his friends' sake or because of something Reborn did.

Through out the series Tsuna matures and gains strenght but he never becomes a power fantasy. He's just a guy with many flaws who grows through the human connections he makes.

Personally I think the relationship between Reborn and Tsuna is one of the best student teacher reltaionships in all of manga only topped by Mob and Reigen from Mob Psycho 100. Especially the last arc really underlines their unique relationship to me.

Furthermore, khr offers a new and unique battle system: The flames. I'm not gonna go into to too much detail but the general idea is that one fights with their dying will flame which basically turns off your the savety switch so you can fight with everything you have. The flames are seperated into different categories such as: sky, storm, mist, rain, sun, lightning and cloud and have different attributes asigned to each one. Tsuna's use of the sky flame and his transformation when using it is still one of my favourite shounen transformations to this day.

3. What happened?

The series did really well and then not so well over the course of its serialisation. After the manga got an anime adaption it increased in populairty and video games, light novels, and other products such as CDs were created based on the series. Reborn is one of the best selling series of Weekly Shōnen Jump and has sold around 30 Million volumes overall. It was and still is very popular in Japan but rather unknown in the west.

According to the article "The Rise and Fall of Weekly Shonen Jump: A Look at the Circulation of Weekly Jump" khr was the 10th bestselling series in Weekly Shōnen Jump, with a total of 7 million copies sold in 2007.

This number increasing to 15 milion in 2008. Which placed khr into the 4th best selling series of 2008 in Japan.

Between 2008 and 2010 those sales declined but still kept strong with khr as the 6th top selling manga in 2009, 8th best selling in 2010 and then 24th best selling in 2012.

In November 2014, readers of the Da Vinci magazine voted khr number 17 on a list of Weekly Shōnen Jump's greatest manga series of all time.

After the anime came to an apprupt stop in 2010 for unknown reasons the manga sells took a visible hit. (Apparently the studio wanted to put the anime on halt because they were busy with other projects and give Akira Amano time to develop her story but I couldn't find any source for this claim) Furthermore, the rushed last chapters of the manga in 2012 declined the popularity of the series even more. There's no offical statement as to why the manga was ended in such a way but it's reasonable to assume that Jump either cut it considering the decreasing sales or Akira Amano choose to end it for personal reasons.

Nontheless, Tsuna not being included in Jump Force (a fighting game where you can play as different characters from Jump) in 2019 even tho he made it in earlier Jump Stars games also underlines the decreased interest in the series.

Rumors on a reboot or anime adaption of the last two arcs surface from time to time but are genereally unlikely. Artland the studio which made khr has gone bankrupt around 2015-2016. It might be taken on by another studio but rather uncommen especially with such an old series.

4. Art style

The khr anime ended over 10 years ago and the old art style might not be appealing to newer audiences.

Especailly because the anime adaption follows Akira Amanos old art style which heavily developed within the years. Here a picture comparing characters in the new art style:

A modern anime adaption in the new art style would be aesthetically pleasing. It would probably look similiar to Psycho Pass since Akira Amano did the concept art for this series.

(My personal art student hot take is that both art styles are unique and fun. Up to this day Akira Amano still has my favourite art style and even if the amount folds in the characters clothing is a little extreme I love it dearly.)

5. Criticism

The show is not without flaws and even if I greatly enjoy it it wouldn't be right not to adress them.

Daily Life Arc:

A lot of people view the first 20 to 25 episodes as fillers and quickly lose intererst in the series. This is due to the fact that Akira Amano inteded the series to be a gag manga and focuses the first chapters on world building, character introduction and comical narratives. It's rumored that the decision to develop the story into a battle shounen was made because the sales weren't doing well enough at first. So the first chapters/episodes may seem titidious but are necessary for the story and the development of the characters. The tonal shift from a more gintama like gag manga to a darker battle focused story can also be offputting to some viewers.

Either way a lot of people blame this arc when discussing why khr never got an english dub or didn't end up on Toonami. I've also read that the manga never finished serializing in the north america. However, it finished in other western languages like german and spanish.

Censoring:

The anime censors A LOT. From Gokudera's smoking habit, Yamamoto's whole character arc which deals with heavy themes such as depression and suicidal thoughts. The general bloodiness of the manga was censored and sometimes whole chapters and characters were left out even if those were important to the devolopment of others.

Filler episodes:

Out of the 202 episodes the anime has around 29 filler episodes which makes roughly 14 %.

Sexism:

Even if Reborn was written by a woman most female characters are rather flat and their storylines often tied to a male character in one way or another.

Genereal things:

Khr, like many other long running series, is sometimes criticised for a lack of world building or unpopular narrative choices.

6. Hope?

Khr isn't exactly dead. As stated before the series is still very popular in Japan and still gets new merch pretty regulary. There are also petitions floating around for a reboot or a new anime season but those never get a lot of traction. Furthermore #Reborn2期アニメ化 (#Reborn2ndAnimation) used to get some traction on twitter not too long ago. Last year the Anime News Network did a poll on which anime the readers would like to see a rebooot of and khr placed second.

Either way here's a collection of recent khr things I could find.

- In 2018 a new bluray set was released in north america

- The khr stage play reached yet another new season

- A mobile game was released last year

- Currently ongoing anime cafe event called "Concerto di Vongola"

- Last month there was an event with the former VAs and stage play actors where they discussed their favourite khr episodes.

- There has been an increase in blind reacts to the openings on youtube which might bring in a new fan base. The biggest one I could find had around 90k views and was made in 2019. On this note check out the soundtrack. The first openeing Drawing Days by SPLAY still makes me go insane (but I'm biased of course)

There also renewed hope for a new season/reboot because Shaman King, Inuyasha and Bleach got anounced for new seasons after a long hiatus. It's important to keep in mind that the circumstances for those series are differnt tho. For example bleachs new anime is often tied to the immense success of the gatcha game.

7. Conclusion

Khr is a series which used to be a flagship for Weekly Shounen Jump and is deeply beloved by it's fans, especially in Japan. It influenced other shounen series like bnha. It would be nice to see it gaining a bigger fanbase in the west :)

#khr #khr meta #anime analysis #shounen jump #katekyo hitman reborn #mirytalks #long post #manga

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inerus · 3 years

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Daily Writing Challenge - Day 12 - "Ball/Gravestone"

Music:

The preparations for the ball were well underway at the Evervale Estate. Per the lineage of the wealthy, balls had been planned regularly throughout the year. This time had been no exception as the Farstrider grimaced at the large and opulent room. He had mixed feelings about his plan and had yet to confer with his would-be partner for the dance. In fact, he wasn't even sure if she knew how to dance. Though it was an assumed trait that dragons could do about anything, so why should it worry him so?

"Inerus, darling... You came!" Farianna strode up to him as he bent his knee in respect.

"It's been some time, Lady Rosestrider. How is it that you fare this evening?" He could tell from her appearance alone, that she had grown up to be a fine and beautiful woman. If he had any regret for leaving his family for an adventuring hiatus, it certainly didn't show.

"Oh, please. Formalities aside. You are in the company of a childhood friend. Don't you recall the antics we used to get into? Perhaps we might be able to stir a little trouble in tonight's event, hm?"

Inerus offered a sly smile and shook his head. "I've outgrown what we did as children. You might be surprised, but I have matured believe it or not. The only reason I am here is on the urgent summons of Mother. I doubt my Father had wanted to write to me given my imprompt dismissal of the family name."

At this, Lady Rosestrider frowned. "You haven't heard, have you?" She made a point to step forward and place a hand on his shoulder. Judging by her concerned expression, he was promptly guarded.

"What do you mean, my Lady? What has happened in my absence?"

The woman turned to cast her gaze askance as she deliberated over her answer to him. "This... may not be my place. But your father has since passed. Over a month has gone by and I found it odd you were not present during his burial."

Inerus felt his jaw tighten as his father had left the world without a final goodbye. "Do you know of where his grave is? It would not bode well for me to be here without seeing him."

"It is among the rest of the Evervale family graves within the clearing of the woods. Would you like me to accompany you?"

Inerus shook his head and raised a hand. "I need a moment alone. Please excuse me."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

When he arrived at the grave, Inerus found himself kneeling down to inspect the writing on the face of his father's stone. For whatever reason, regret surged through him and he felt his fists clench at his side. Should he have returned sooner? Stayed with the family until his parents had passed naturally? Did his father die hating him?

Many of these questions clouded his thoughts until he felt a slight tingle in his hand. Upon turning over and opening his hand, he could see that the mark of his dragon illuminating. Closing his eyes, he'd channel arcane into his palm before speaking.

"Raescera... do you wish to speak with me?"

At his question, one of the trees had suddenly seemed... animate. In the split up along its trunk, it gave a wide birth to reveal a Kal'dorei Elf as she stepped through. Unlike portals that were made of magic, the Emerald Dream had facilitated travel in a more unusual and natural sort of way. The tree's bark seamlessly collected behind her as she moved over to him. Her arms gathering him up against her as she looked intently at him.

"I felt... your pain and came to offer you comfort." Her hand settled along his cheek as she drew on her empathic gift to draw his negativity into herself. Though he promptly pulled his hand away and gripped at her forearm.

"You need not take this from me, Lady Raescera. I am simply in shock and experiencing grief. Though your consideration of my needs has not gone unnoticed."

The Kal'dorei gently placed her arm back at her side and nodded. "It was strange, but you have felt anxious to... remorseful. We're these feelings tied to this stone?" A hand gestures to the grave of his father and he shakes his head.

"The anxiousness was another matter... though... it seems pertinent I mention it now. Lady Raescera... I am required to make an appearance tonight for my family. And... in doing so I would like to have you accompany me if you would allow it per your availability and liberation of duty?"

Raescera gave pause to his question and knelt down as plantlife grew about the stone to offer it more age than necessary. But Inerus was against mentioning that fact and knew that the arrangement of fauna would likely be beautiful to those who would come to visit his father.

"Very well. As your dragon, I will see to it as you have seen to the Dream any time I have asked. What is required of me when I meet your family?"

At this, Inerus would flush slightly and scratch at the back of his head. "A dance with music and conversation. Though... I have been meaning to ask if you are familiar with dancing?"

Raescera inclines her head to the side as she rises to look at him. "I have not, though it is a natural trait. I can manage when asked to do so."

He'd simply nod his head and glance back over his shoulder towards the estate then back at her. "Are you also... willing to look like a Sin'dorei? There are still strict expectations of those I associate with... And I do not imagine they would favor a Kal'dorei."

The green dragon nodded her head as a gathering of leaves and wind surged around her. Her shape subtly changed before his very eyes. And just as she had before, she wore transparent clothing that revealed more than what would be expected at the ball.

"Erm... perfect. Now, all we will need is to get you a dress. One that is proper for the occasion."

"What is wrong with what I am wearing?" She inquires as she moves closer to him.

"It suggests a behavior punishable by tanning one's hide. Please... allow me to assist you with this endeavor?"

Raescera gave a slow nod as he pulled her away from his father's grave. The notion of regret slipping as he sought to shoulder the burden better in the evening.

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Near the start time of the dance, he led Raescera into the room. He wore something similar in color to her dress and held her by the arm with his own. Her attire mirrored her passion for the Dream as she was a stunning creature to behold in the ballroom. There was no question that eyes were drawn to her and Inerus as they made their way forward. However, she managed the part of a Sin'dorei with entitlement well as she regarded the room around her. Leaning close, she spoke softly into his ear.

"There are many here... I do not know how we will be able to dance and talk with them all in the hour we intend to stay."

"That is a normal worry, but I assure you... The Sin'dorei manage to find ways to make time and exceed the allotment of time for conversation. I suspect we may be here longer if we get caught by the wrong parties during the dance."

At this, the music started to carry through the large hall. Already pairs of Sin'dorei made their way onto the floor to dance. Inerus turned to Raescera as he offered an overturned hand to her. "May I have this dance, Lady Raescera?"

"You may, Dragonsworn Inerus." She gingerly set her hand within his as his fingers folded around hers. His other arm sought to wrap about her side as he spoke. "When you are ready... step with me. I will lead you and if you feel lost... rely on me."

She gave a nod and took a step. He moved with her, though he made to do so slowly. His gaze focused entirely on her as the arm bracing her side gave more support than the joined hands that were outstretched from their bodies. A smile made its way onto his features as he seemingly kept pace with those that danced around them. A majority of the dancers hugged their partners with the same motion of dance.

Although Raescera had been new to it, she only slipped a few times. Though it was hardly noticed given Inerus's practiced form. And each time she faltered, he would ease to a slower rhythm. Her own features grew bright as she noted the gold opulent chandeliers overhead.

"Perhaps one day, you can add a chandelier to your own lair," he quipped noting her look to the ceiling. "I'm sure I could get you one if you want..."

"I would welcome that. And I would look forward to doing these... dances more often. I am enjoying myself."

He felt touched by her words as a tender look crossed his features. He leaned close to speak near her ear. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Lady Raescera."

@daily-writing-challenge

#inerus Evervale #Daily Writing Challenge #Day 12 #Ball/Gravestone #Raescera #Green Dragon!#Sin'dorei Culture #Nobility #Dancing #Wee #Oh hey #my dad is dead too I guess

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littlesupernaturalwords · 6 years

Text

Not Him Part Two

Written for SPN Hiatus Creations | Week 4

Warnings: DARK!FIC, angst, torture, mental and physical abuse, manipulation, kidnapping, held captive, non-descriptive forced sexual encounter, non-con, rape, forced nudity, arguing, swearing, low self-esteem, self-doubt, DON'T READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THIS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Pairing: shapeshifter!Dean x reader (pre-established Dean x reader)

Prompt: “Vampires, Werewolves or Shapeshifters”

Word count: 5 269

Summary: You left the Bunker after you'd had an argument with Dean. Soon enough, you find yourself regretting ever stepping a foot out of your home; your mind fuzzy and your body weak, a monster with your lover's face finds its way into your life in a way you will never be able to forget.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Dean loved you.

You kept repeating that like a mantra to yourself, not letting fear overcome you, as your lover sliced your skin. A shiver ran down your spine. Dean pulled back to look at you, smiling lovingly, before he put the knife against your collarbone and pushed. Your heartbeat quickened as you tried to breathe through the pain, willing your muscles to stay relaxed. A jolt of pleasure cursed through you along with the sting once Dean withdrew the knife, and you closed your eyes to cherish the strange sensation, your brain high with adrenaline and endophins. Dean hadn't cut you too deep; he'd just drew enough blood so it would trickle down your flesh and mix with the liquid already drying on your skin.

But you were trembling nonetheless. Your body was in shock from all the constant pain that began to overpower the pleasure, shallow cuts gracing every part of skin Dean could reach. You weren't smiling anymore, but tried not to react when he pushed the blade a little too deep and pain shot through your shaking thigh. Your clothes were in pieces, hanging on you just by threads, but you didn't even think about covering yourself.

This was Dean. He loved you. And he was doing this for you.

"Where's Y/N?" Dean asked impatiently the moment Castiel came through the door to the Bunker.

The angel frowned, walking down the stairs, and came to a stop by the table in the War room. "She is not with you?" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side. Dean inhaled sharply and turned around, running his hands through his hair. You'd left the previous night and they hadn't heard from you since. Dean was becoming anxious and more impatient with every passing second.

"You mean she hasn't prayed to you?" Sam asked, trying to stay calm. He'd made Dean get a few hours of sleep until their angel friend got there, but started to regret that decision. He'd tried to track your phone, but you either turned off the GPS or broke your phone all together.

"No," Cas replied hesitantly, his eyes drifting between the brothers, "not since you hunted the ghoul in Missouri." There was a loud smack which made Sam's and Castiel's head whip towards Dean as he sent everything that had been on the table flying to the ground. He threw his phone into the opposite wall with a pained shout and the small device shattered to pieces.

"Dean-" Sam began, but his brother cut him off.

"It's my fault," Dean said so quietly it was barely above whisper, his voice laced with despair. Sam shared a look with Castiel, but neither of them said a word; they knew it wouldn't change anything. You were gone and Dean wouldn't stop until he found you. And he didn't care who stood in his way.

"Dean," you breathed heavily, but your lover didn't stop. He dove the knife into you with a twisted smile, uncaring of your trembling body. His slices became deeper, more sadistic; Dean kept pushing until tears started streaming down your cheeks and you strained against the ropes binding you. There was no more pleasure in what Dean was doing to you. His hands were rough, smearing blood across your skin and pushing on already scabbing wounds until they started bleeding again, and you wanted to tell him to stop; wanted to shout at him, tell him he was hurting you. But then he looked up at you with so much love in his eyes and caressed your cheeks so gently, you couldn't help but lean into the touch and smile even through your tears.

He loved you. He was doing this for you.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Dean asked you softly, crouching to be at the same eye level as you.

You swallowed a sob. "It hurts," you whimpered pathetically, wanting it to stop, but wishing to be good for Dean even more.

"Oh, I know," he murmured and leaned so close your foreheads were touching. You closed your eyes and immediately relaxed, the simple touch enough to calm down your aching body. "You're doing so good," Dean praised you, stroking your hair. "Such a good girl for me." Blush stained your cheeks and you smiled, leaning forward to press your lips against his. The kiss was gentle, loving, and said more than any words ever could. You didn't pull back, not even when your lungs started burning from lack of oxygen, and it was Dean who had break the kiss before you lost yourself in him completely. He stayed close, your noses touching and his hand cupping your cheek. "Just a few more, sweetheart. Just a little more, okay?" Dean asked against your lips.

You swallowed a whimper. Your body was aching, screaming at you to stop the pain, to stop the constant stinging and throbbing you felt in each cut with your every heartbeat. It was hard to breathe, hard to focus, hard to relax your muscles so it wouldn't hurt more. But you wanted to be good. For Dean. He loved you, he would never hurt you if he thought there was any other way. You took in another shaky breath before answering. "Okay," you breathed and reached for another kiss. Dean kissed you back hungrily and licked at your lips with his tongue. You granted him entrance without second thought and tried to get even closer to him, until the ropes cut into your wrists so much you knew there would be burns from them later. You whined when he parted from you, but Dean only smiled at you lovingly and got up. He grabbed his knife from the table, withdrawing something from his jacket. It was a small glass bottle, barely more than an inch tall, filled to the brim with milky liquid and secured by a cork. You watched as Dean pulled the cork out and dipped the blade into the fluid before he set the bottle down and came closer to you.

Your heart was racing in your chest and more tears filled your eyes, but you still tried to smile at him. There was so much love in his eyes when he brushed your hair back and brought the knife to your shoulder. Dean stilled the knife against your skin, but didn't break it, a questioning look on his face. He was giving you an out, you realized. Emotions rushed through your body as tears of joy fell through your eyelashes and a quiet sob left your lips. Dean loved you and he didn't need to say it out loud - you saw it, clear as day. You gave him a single nod and that was all the premission he needed. Acid smell filled your nose only a second before Dean cut through your skin and quickly lifted the knife. The cut wasn't deep, but you couldn't say it stung - it burned you alive. Fire filled the shallow wound the moment Dean broke the skin and spread through your whole shoulder. You screamed. Ropes cut into your wrists and ankles, your body trying to get free, twisting and writhing in the chair, but it was no use.

You didn't notice Dean bringing the knife to your stomach and only registered he did so after fire consumed the whole middle part of your body. You screamed and panted, not even trying to stop your tears, pulling and struggling, twisting your head to tell him to stop. It was too much. Everything was too much. The light suddenly became too bright, the ropes too tight, your head dizzy. It hurt. There was no pleasure, not a single thought about pleasing Dean. You needed it to stop - and you needed it now.

"Dean, please," you sobbed quietly, writhing in the chair in a desperate effort to ease the pain, to soothe the fire that spread through your body like acid filling your weins. Your vision was blurry with tears, your skin overheated and sweaty in your body's hopeless attempt to cool it down.

A warm hand cupped your cheek. "Just one more more, sweetheart," Dean answered your plea softly and you found yourself nodding automatically. You didn't want it. You wanted, no, needed him to stop. And yet, all you did was close your eyes and lean into his touch, trying to distract yourself from the pain. You felt the cold blade on your thigh and struggled to relax. Why did it hurt so much? The cuts were barely deep enough to draw blood, but what you felt was like fire - consuming and overwhelming. You held your breath.

The tip of the blade broke your skin and your effords to be quiet died along with everything else you'd thought was important. Agony. That was the only way you could describe what you were feeling. You were screaming and panting until your voice broke and your mouth stayed opened in a silent scream. You bucked against the ropes, whining and sobbing openly, trying to get away, trying to get it to stop.

"Please," you begged, struggling to breathe, "Dean, please. I can't- I can't." Sobs wrecked through your shaking body as tears formed behind your closed eyelids.

"Shh," Dean soothed you and cupped your cheeks with his hands. You didn't get lost in him this time. It was too much. Too many sensations rushed through your body and mind; burning, sweat, tears, heat, even Dean's voice were too much. "You did so good," he whispered in your ear, wiping away your tears and nuzzling against your neck. "You were so good for me, so brave. I'm so proud of you."

There was no satisfaction when you heard the words. No pleasure, no joy, nothing. Nothing but the constant pain and throbbing of your aching body. Broken. You felt broken and weak, quietly sobbing even as Dean kissed your forehead and stroked your hair, stuck to your sweaty skin. You couldn't keep your head up. It fell limply against your chest, ringing filling your ears and black spots dancing in your vision. A foreign noise sounded somewhere in the room, but you were too far gone to recognize it. You welcomed the darkness that threatened to take you, seeing it as release from your pain.

Dean gently lifted your head. "Come on, sweetheart, you can't fall asleep now," he told you softly, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. "Open your eyes, Y/N," Dean ordered and you didn't dare disobey. Your eyelids were heavy, but you forced them to open and blinked several times to try and clear you vision; it didn't help. "There you go," Dean whispered against your skin and kissed your forehead again. The elder Winchester slowly withdrew his hands from your face, making sure you would keep your head up by yourself, and moved to the ropes on your wrists. He quickly untied you from the chair and kissed the burned skin, whispering gentle words and praises, but you were too tired to actually hear them. You didn't move your hands when he crouched to untie your ankles, just sat there in what remained of your clothes, covered in blood and sweat. "I'm so proud of you," Dean repeated as he rose up and kissed you deeply. You didn't respond to him. You didn't react even as he slipped his hands over your back and under your knees and picked you up like you weighed nothing.

You curled into yourself, still on fire, and whimpered into his chest. Dean carried you to the bathroom and carefully set you down on the toilet. You fell back against the wall, too weak and tired to hold yourself up. Dean carefully undressed you from your ruined, bloody clothes and kissed every single patch of skin he uncovered, humming and mumbling against it. You thought you should feel violated, being stripped by him, but you didn't; you didn't have enough energy to do anything. Everything hurt. You hissed even when the soft fabric of your shirt scraped your arm. You had no more tears to spill, no more words to say. Emotions rushed through you, but even as they did, you didn't know what to do.

Dean pulled you from your thoughts when he came up to brush his nose against yours and gave you a quick kiss. He didn't wait for your reaction and scooped you up into his arms. The same noise you'd heard before filled your ears as he carried you to the bathtub and slowly lowered you into the water. You didn't scream. Small whimpers and whines escaped your lips once the too-hot water hit your skin, but you didn't say anything.

"I know, I know," Dean said in a low voice, trying to soothe you. "Shh, I've got you." Dean closed the tap and you realized that it was the strange sound you'd heard. Your blood mixed with the water and turned it a dark pink colour, but you didn't notice. Everything stung and ached and Dean was holding you up so you wouldn't drown. His fingers were gentle, running over your damaged body and washing the blood away, until the water became too dirty and Dean had to refill the tub to make sure you were clean. He massaged your scalp, working shampoo into your hair, and mindfully washed it with clean water before he put the conditioner in. Gentle, oh-so-careful, fingers cleaned your body with soap and you whimpered and gripped his hand tightly. Dean didn't stop you, only leaned closer and caressed every part of your skin that wasn't injured, letting you squeeze his hand as a way to deal with the pain. The fire lessened, but it was still there, burning you from the inside, and you realized it was the liquid Dean's dipped his knife in that made it so bad.

Why had he hurt you like that? Because he loved you, you replied to yourself. But why would he do that? To make you stronger, make you brave for him. But you didn't want this. Didn't you? Didn't you want to be a good girl for him? You knew the answer, but didn't know what to think.

Your hands loosened and Dean quickly finished washing you and brought you back to the room, uncaring of the water that wettened his clothes as he laid you down on the bed and quickly dried you with a towel. Your skin was painfully tight, the cuts pulsing and itching, and you writhed in discomfort. Dean lay next to you and pulled you to him with his hand around your waist and your back pressed to his chest.

"Shh, sleep, Y/N," he whispered in your ear. You laid your hand over his and laced your fingers. Dean knew how much you liked to sleep like this, how safe you felt in his arms, and a happy smile pulled on your lips. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to ignore the pain, and inhaled Dean's scent deeply. And that was the moment you froze; he didn't smell like Dean. There was no leather, no gunpowder, even no oil in his scent. The man behind you felt you tense and pulled you closer, whispering praises in your ear. But you couldn't hear him. Everything came back to you.

He was a shapeshifter. He'd persuaded you Dean didn't love you, didn't care about you. He'd manipulated you into needing him. Manipulated you into craving him, kissing him. You felt sick to your stomach. The arm around your waist tightened, making sure you couldn't move. You were trapped.

Dean sat at one of the tables in the library, his hand itching to reach for the bottle of whiskey he kept next to him, but stopped himself; you needed him. Sam was scanning every single route you might have taken and Castiel was sitting at the table with his eyes closed, straining his ears to hear anything on the angel radio, waiting for you to pray. Dean felt useless. He was the one who'd made you leave in the first place, but there was nothing he could do to find you. Frustrated tears prickled his eyes and he had to resist the pull the alcohol had on him not to drown the whole bottle down.

Castiel straightened his back suddenly and his impossibly blue eyes fell open, landing on Dean. The angel spoke before either of the brothers had time to ask. "I found her."

You didn't know when or how you fell asleep, but you woke up suddenly by someone calling your name. Your eyes shot open and you tried to sit up, only to pull at ropes, your wrists tied together and secured to the headboard.

"Y/N!" somebody called again and you whipped your head to the sound. Dean was standing above you, his eyes wide and full or concern. "Don't worry," he said when he noticed you were looking up at him, "I'm gonna get you out of here." He quickly reached above your head to pull at the ropes.

You eyed him warily, not sure whether he was the real Dean or the shifter. His demeanour was different; his face twisted with worry, dark shadows under his eyes. He cursed when the knot didn't loosen.

"Dean," you whispered breathlessly, tugging at the ropes.

His face softened. "You're safe with me," Dean assured you and you nodded. Your eyes fell on the door to the room and you realized you had no idea when the shifter would return. A whimper left your lips, urging Dean to hurry, just as he mamaged to untie you. You shot up and wrapped your arm around him. "I've got you," Dean said and helped you up to your feet. You were nude, covered in scabbing cuts, and your whole body itched, urging you to scratch the fresh wounds.

You made a wary step, biting your cheek to suppress a cry, and pulled at Dean's arm, urging him to move. You had to get out of there before the shifter came back. But Dean stayed still, his head down. "Dean, we have to go," you whispered quickly.

Dean looked at you with a disappointment frown. "Would you really leave me, Y/N?"

Your blood ran cold. This was the shifter. You took a step back, but he caught your upper arm and squeezed, his nails cutting your skin and opening your scabs. You clenched your teeth and tried to yank your arm free, but he gripped your hair and pulled your naked body to him.

"You would leave me, huh?" the shifter growled lowly. He squeezed your hair tighter, your scalp burning with pain. "Your Dean let you leave, but I won't let you do that." His grip on you loosened enough for you to look up at his face; it was twisted with hurt. "Why did you try to do that?" he asked softly. "Why would you want to leave me after being so good for me?"

You didn't answer. His praise had no effect on you this time and you swallowed hard, trying to find a way to overpower the shifter with Dean's body. He was stronger than you, but you were faster; but at the position you were in, you were helpless - one hand in your hair and other on your arm, pressing you to him, locking your arms between your bodies.

The shifter sighed. "Will you be good for me?" he asked and you nodded. If he let you go, this would be your chance and who cared you were naked; you needed to get away from him. He smiled sweetly, guiding your lips to his and kissing you until your lungs burned for air. You couldn't pull away, the hand in your hair stopping you, and he let you go only after you struggled against him. You panted, trying to catch your breath, when his hold on you loosened. "Get on the bed," he ordered and your eyes widened. He chuckled at your reaction, but caressed your cheek with the hand that had been pulling on your scalp only seconds ago. "I have to punish you for what you did, sweetheart," he explained, still keeping his touch gentle. "Now, get on the bed."

You nodded, keeping your head down and waiting for the right moment. You needed him to loosen the hand on your arm just a tiny bit and you were confident you could get out even in your injured state. The shifter withdrew his hands all together and you took your chance. You turned and sprinted to the door, uncaring of your injuries. Your hand landed on the knob when the shifter's hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you off your feet.

"No!" you shouted and kicked your legs. You tried to slam your head into his nose, but he was holding you too low for you to even reach his chin. He roughly threw you on the bed. You tried to squirm away, but he quickly covered you with his huge body, pressing you down with all his body weight. You slapped him and went for his eyes before he caught your hands with a growl and brought them over your head. You recognized the rough ropes the moment they touched your skin, but couldn't do anything as the shifter tied your wrists back to the headboard tightly. He forced his knee between your legs and checked your hands were immobile before moving down your body. The second you saw the rope tied to the bottom corners of the bed, you screamed louder than ever before and kicked your legs desperately, hitting him square in the jaw.

He roughly grabbed your ankle and brought it to the edge of the bed, keeping your other leg down with his knee. You squirmed and shouted, pulling at the ropes so hard you were bleeding even before he was done tying the first ankle. You fought him with all you had as he tied your other leg, keeping you open for him, completely at his mercy.

Tears filled your eyes and a sob left your lips once he straightened up to look at you. "Please," you begged, but it was as though he didn't hear you.

"So beautiful," he breathed and ran his fingertips up your legs. Your skin felt like sandpaper - rough, dry and peeling. His hand came close to your womanhood and you desperately tried to close your legs, but he passed it and touched your stomach. His mouthed went the same path, kissing up both your aching legs, up your stomach where he sucked at your belly button and up between the valley of your breasts. You twisted and squirmed beneath him, shouting and crying the whole time, but the shifter posing as Dean overpowered you easily. "So beautiful for me," he whispered as he kissed your neck.

"Please," you sobbed, "please, stop. I don't want this, please."

"Shh," he shushed you and kissed your lips. "I have to punish you, Y/N." You whimpered and turned your head to the side, but he only moved to kiss along your jaw. Warm hands were running over your body, squeezing at your abused flesh and it only made you cry harder. "Don't worry, sweetheart," the shifter purred, "I'll make it good for you."

You fought with all you had, squirming, twisting and stretching until he had to hold you down by your neck, cutting all your air supply as he thrusted into you. You screamed and cried, clawing at the ropes, praying somebody would just come through the door and save you from the monster with your lover's face, forcing its way into your body, but nobody ever came. He nipped and pulled at your skin and you screamed until you couldn't anymore, your voice breaking and turning into hoarse grunts as he broke your skin with his brutal pace and blood poured down your body and onto the sheets. You couldn't look at him. As the last screams died in your throat, you turned your head away, letting your body go limp and tears run across your nose and into your hair soundlessly.

It wasn't Dean. This wasn't Dean. And yet, every time your body shook with his assault, you felt his fingers digging into your hips. It was his voice whispering how much he loved you. His lips kissed and nipped and bit at your skin. And it was his face you saw; the vibrant green eyes, the beautiful full lips, the tiny freckles you so loved. He fucked you, thrusted into you so violently you thought he would split you in two. He was getting close. You could feel him twitch inside of you and he came with a shout, pushing you over the edge with him. You didn't want it. You didn't want the orgasm that made your toes curl and your back arch. Sobs wrecked through you even more powerfully than before.

You closed your eyes when he withdrew from you. He tortured you, manipulated you, raped you and yet, there was only one word that could describe what you were feeling as emotions swirled through you: nothing. You felt nothing. You waited for the anger, for the hate or shame to fill you, but it never came.

You didn't move when he untied your ankles, kissing the burned flesh. You didn't react when he kissed his was up your body, paying attention to every bruise and mark he'd left on you. You didn't look at him when he turned your face to him to kiss you, your gaze remaining unfocused. And you didn't do anything to escape even once he freed your hands and helped you put them by your sides. You only turned to the side and brought your knees up, still staring blankly into the wall. The bed dipped next to you and the shifter turned you to your other side easily and pulled you to him without resistance. He didn't speak for a long moment, only held you to his chest and kissed your head.

"You're so good for me, Y/N," he whispered into your hair, but you didn't even blink. He raised his head to look at you and sighed once he noticed your unfocused gaze. "Get some sleep, sweetheart," he said and laid a hand over your eyes. You didn't do anything to shake it off, didn't even flinch when his hand made your whole world turn black. You only stared into the darkness, feeling your spendings begining to dry between your thighs.

The Impala came to a stop in front of a motel three hours from the Bunker. Dean spotted your truck immediately and wanted to jump out of the car right away, when Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

Sam struggled to find the right words and sighed. "Just don't do anything stupid," he said finally and Dean only nodded, loading his gun. He got out of the car, Sam and Castiel following only seconds after him, and went to your truck first, his fingers laced around his gun. Your truck was dirty and cold, indicating you hadn't used it in at least a few hours. Dean looked inside, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

"She's inside, you know," came a voice that made his heart skip a beat.

Dean turned abruptly, pointing his gun at the man in front of him. Only he looked exactly like Dean - his face, hair, even clothes were the same. A shifter, Dean realized and clicked the safety on his gun off.

"Who are you? What did you do to her?" Dean shouted. Sam was by his side in a second, Castiel behind him with an angel blade in his hand.

The shifter smiled darkly and brought his hands up in surrender. "She killed my mate," he said angrily, keeping his eyes fixed on Dean "I didn't do anything she wouldn't deserve."

And with that, Dean shot him in the heart.

The spot next to you was cold. Everything hurt. You stayed curled on your side, but every cut and bruise the shifter had put on your skin reminded you of him. You knew there were bruises on your neck, making it hard to breathe, but didn't care. You had no tears to spill, no sobs to let out; you only lay in bed, curled up in blanket, and kept your eyes on the wall opposite to you. You hadn't slept, but couldn't remember when the shifter had left you.

Nothing - that was what you felt. No emotions, no thoughts, no plan, nothing. You knew it wasn't Dean who had hurt you, but his face, even in your happy memories, haunted you. And yet, there was no hate towards him - simply nothing.

The door to the room opened, but you stayed still, readying yourself for whatever he might do to you. The mess between your legs had dried on your skin, reminding you of what he had done, and it made you pull the blanket higher in a desperate attempt to protect yourself. Footsteps echoed through the room and came closer to you.

You didn't react when somebody put their hand on your shoulder and pulled the blanket down slightly.

"Son of a bitch," you heard Dean say and curled into yourself more. You'd thought you couldn't cry anymore, but you had been wrong; the moment his deep voice filled the room, the dam in you broke and there was nothing you could do to stop your quiet weeping. You didn't want him to hurt you any more, didn't want him to touch you.

His hands pulled the blanket lower, uncovering more of your abused skin, but you did nothing to stop him, only lay there soundlessly, praying to Castiel to come and save you, to put a stop to your misery. Dean turned you on your back without resistance and you gripped the blanket tighter, not wanting him to see more.

A single look at his face had you trembling and sobbing. You closed your eyes, pressing hands over your ears, so you wouldn't hear the voice of the man you loved.

Dean didn't know what to do. He reached to cup your cheek, but you only sobbed harder when he touched your skin. "Y/N, it's me," Dean said, but you didn't hear him. But he didn't need you to say anything to know what the shifter had done; purple, finger-shaped bruises blossomed on your neck, cuts covered every spot of your skin he could see along with bites and marks.

Dean hadn't noticed he'd been crying until tears blurred his vision.

You couldn't look at him. Sobbing and shaking, you tried to hide under the blanket, but found you couldn't move; your body was spent, too weak and tired to do anything other than just lay and wait for what your rapist would do next.

And Dean suddenly understood; you'd killed the shifter's mate, but what he'd done to you was so much worse. He made sure you couldn't be with Dean anymore. Ensured that when you saw Dean's face, you wouldn't see the man you loved, but the abuser the shifter had been. Dean realized you would always see him as the monster you both knew deep down he really was.

And it shattered his heart.

A broken whimper left your lips and you realized the shifter had been right all along; Dean didn't love you. He didn't care about you.

Because if he did, wouldn't he have come for you already?

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7goodangel · 7 years

Note

I'm new here, sorry to bother, but why won't answer any paperfresh questions?

Warning: Long post so yeah... hence why the read more o-o

(From Blog Description)

(From FAQ)

But... I’m gonna add slightly more detail to this - cause then I can just link this exact ask/answer to my description for more detail.

So yeah... It’s not really the full ‘ship’ that I dislike. I am... just... meh with this ship if we are just talking about it in general.

However - what I don’t like was/is how people were so obsessed over it, so focused onto that specific ship that it caused these things (in this order):

Mischaracterization of Fresh and PJ - So yeah - first was this whole thing. At the beginning - it seemed like a fun, yet harmless ship. Both CQ and I saw few things on it, added our two cents, and just continued to observe the fun (at least for me - it just seemed like CQ was doing that too and she’s really chill). It even got to a point where I was trying to see how this ship would actually work. However - this ship kinda brought in a wave of misunderstanding. Which - I don’t know - I was okay with that for PJ since I knew/know that I’m not a popular blog or anyone important so it’s my own fault for not getting all of the info on PJ out there straight away. But for Fresh? I honestly felt like it was my own fault that people were not seeing him as the complex character he is. Gosh have you guys read MommaCQ By Alania? That, at this time, is the closest Fresh that is to the actual Fresh (ya know... without that whole parasite thing). I just felt horrible that Fresh was getting mischaracterized due to my character (who was also getting super misinterpreted). It felt like it was my fault for that whole thing - so I started to not like FreshPaper starting at the peak of all of that mess. Moving from an OTP to a ‘eh it’s okay!’. I am still dealing with this aftermath today. People are seriously getting shocked that Paper isn’t in a canon ship with Fresh. (Examples come from the Undertale AU Amino on quizzes others made on canon PJ [you guys rock for making those quizzes!]):

(still continuing from above)Yeah - these are actual responses to stuff in the quizzes. I also made a quiz in that Amino and majority of the people who have done it (8 at this time cause it’s brand new) did not have a score over 20 (top score is 124... by a user named Paperfresh which gosh that was funny to me! Kudos to you though!) 7 out of 8 couldn’t do it. People outside of Tumblr still think that Canon PJ is a nice, shy, and innocent little 17 year old. Which is far from the truth. Again - people need to understand the difference between AUs and Canon stories for OCs. And that plays a part into this whole thing.

Tossing any other ships that are not ‘just for fun’ under the bus/Tossing other users under the bus due to shipsNow this was the second wave of stuff that happened, and this happened right after Christmas of last year. Ever since I said “Oh yeah - This character named Omni (by Cereusblue)? PJ likes them. They are in a canon ship.” And gosh... you know what? Those Freshpaper shippers started to slowly ramp up their headcanons on their ship and tried to make it fact. Try to hide that PJ is in a different relationship with Omni than being in a ‘relationship with Fresh’. Let me first say that at first - it seemed like people who followed me were cool with this. From people who hate FreshPaper to loving FreshPaper. They were all cool with the idea that PJ wasn’t going to be with Fresh. OK! Awesomesauce!But then, I saw people complaining to Cereusblue and Askinfresh (an amazing Fresh RPer) about this - even calling them out (which by the way - Askinfresh had nothing to do with this so...?) and tossing them under a metaphorical bus for why their ship now cannot be canon. (which by the way - at this point CQ and I have stressed out enough times that it just won’t happen!)And eventually - there was one user that I have now blocked due to this - but I am going to go into detail about this, that made me just shut down on the whole topic of FreshPaper together. They were the straw on the camel’s back. And it hit right during the time I was trying to finish up my Masters. (fabulous timing there.)But gosh ok this story is long so just a warning:~~~So - I don’t know how it exactly started - but someone mentioned to me that this user (who honestly I loved and respected their work even though it was mostly FreshPaper stuff [and let me go ahead and say no - it’s not the first person you thought of]) was talking about me not only behind my back, but in a different language entirely. And they just kept saying on occasion on how I was the one who ruined FreshPaper, how I didn’t had the “kindness of being a multishipper” and that I was too blinded by this new ship OmniPJ to even notice how amazing Freshpaper is!And just... while this was translated by Google Translate for me - someone later on confirmed that the translation was pretty close to what they said...I just... I guess I snapped? But I took my time to respond to this, had others read it so then I had less of a chance to offend anyone - cause I HATE HATE HATE making other’s feel bad. And I just wanted to explain my side of the story - especially since this wasn’t the first time they tossed me under like that. And after that? What did they do?Cut PJ out of their story, blamed me for their action on that, and just - continued to draw without seeming like it hurt them even though they kept stating ‘how much they were hurt to even think about PJ’. ...DudeI broke down.I extended my hiatus at that time to “TBD”IT HURT me so MUCH to know that someone was SAD, or ANGRY, or just... so frustrated that they go to my face and say “well then I’m removing your character from my story” and then proceeding to put the blame on me when in fact that wasn’t what I was saying at all. I even replied to that comment and after that - I broke down and cried. And I hate to sound like I was exaggerating on this but - any of my close friends would be able to verify that this happened. I went to a table that I haven’t crawled under within a year - and laid there with a blanket, crying, until I just felt numb. It... kinda showed me that I wasn’t ready for any form of hate on the internet - where you kinda need to have a think skin in order to brush off hate. And while generic hate I was able to brush off until that moment - that.. THAT to me was like this:For a whole month, I panicked. I talked to friends on what I should do. Even after soft blocking and fully blocking their blog - I kept going back. Translating questions with the number 7 in them or with PJ in them to make sure they were not still angry about it... which then spiraled me down. I was afraid... afraid that a whole section of people who could only read and speak that language would see me as the devil’s advocate. Yep - I took the bait. And honestly that whole part of me feeling bad for a month was on me. That was entirely my fault. But... I guess this was the first personal attack I had received in my life - so I didn’t know how to handle it.~~~But now? I know better. I have taken that experience and will use what I had learned from it in a similar situation in the future (if that ever happens). Just... know that you will not please everyone even if you try your dang hardest at that. That was me learning that fully in action. However - due to knowing that discussing FreshPaper was behind all of that - and I didn’t want anyone to feel like that EVER - That’s why I took a stand and just said “nope. I am not going to discuss this ship anymore. I will not like any art of this ship (but know I still do appreciate it and some I bookmark cause it’s so good) but I just need to take this side and stand - not let any more confusion or miscommunication happen.”

And...well... that is the full story of how it became to be a topic I will not discuss again. It’s just do to all of these things piling up on one another until one thing just shattered me.

I honestly thought about deactivating back during that break down. I thought about keeping my blog up for archive reasons, and starting from scratch with a brand new username and not ever bring PJ back again. I thought about possibly only using Tumblr to stay connected with friends I made but never ever do another social media blog again.

But eh - I decided to keep going! I’m kinda persistent! Or Determined!

Anyway - this was the LONG LONG L O N G explanation of why I don’t answer any FreshPaper Questions. Just... it was due to bad situations and circumstances that just piled up on me until I just couldn’t look at the word “FreshPaper’ in any positive light.

BUT LET ME JUST SAY:

I am completely fine if you ship FreshPaper.

It’s 100% ok!

YOU ship what you WISH to ship! And being a multishipper - I see those Freshpaper ships as alternate timelines! All coexisting at the same time as the canon timeline.

Just - I wanted you all to know where I am coming from with this ship... and know why I don’t really like it. And sadly - it’s not even about the characters - it’s about the bad experiences within the fandom for me.

In the end, respect the canon stories that people made for their OCs - whether it’s for OTPs, NOTPs, and BROTPs,. Respect that people can see certain ships work and others not be able to work.

Let that whole ‘ship war’ thing die already and let’s create an area where people can discuss ships without the fear to be ridiculed, to be driven to insanity, to be harmed physically or mentally about what they ship or not ship.

And this has gone on long enough! ^^

If you read this far - thank you. And I hope that with seeing things from my perspective, it brought a new angle to this whole shipping thing. At least with the Freshpaper stuff o-oAgain - you can still ship Freshpaper! Go for it! You like it - draw it! Write it! Sing it! Just... make sure you respect those who don’t like it or can’t see why you ship it. And apply that mentality to any ship you have in any fandom! ^^

Hope you all have a fantastic day!

#faq #// long post #I am so sorry this turned out this long but.. I feel like all points needed to be in there #some will repeat over and over but that's due to how much I wanted to stress on them #and that story int the middle? I felt like people should see how #those things at a breaking point are for me from my perspective #getting more perspectives on situations helps others figure out what happened #and to bring their own conclusions to a situation #so yeah o-o #also did not want to say who that person was but I still have my responses to stuff on my blog #and yeah just... I feel like people are gonna first see that and go #oh my gosh did rouge did that? And I will say no #hence the 'no it's not who you first thought' part #sorry for this long mess of a post #Anonymous

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