#this isn't really whump more like angst

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

omg i saw you reblogged that one post about villains who love too much and tagged is as an oc named,,, alesky, i think? (This ask box is blocking the character name so apologies if i spelled it wrong), I am Intrigued and would love to know more about them

Sorry it took me so long to get to this ask!! Tysm for it btw I died of excitement when I saw this in my inbox!! And yes, that’s Aleksy!

Here are some picrews of them :D

And here’s some art my lovely and amazing friend made of them <3

Their full name is Aleksy Annora, and I made them like a year ago after I read “The Man Who Loved Flowers” by Steven King.

Some content warnings before the rant: domestic abuse, serial murder, a lot of angst, attempted murder, execution, attempted suicide, implied major character death, probably some more stuff

Aleksy is just a totally normal barista in a popular coffee shop, of course. There is no angst or tragedy or murder in their backstory, not at all.

Well who am I kidding lol. Pretty much their main concept is that they are a Serial Killer For Love™ cuz goddd I love that trope. Tho I wouldn’t really call Aleksy any sort of yandere. They share some of the aesthetic tho!

The thing about Aleksy is that they fall in love all the time, but at the same time love is the thing that scares them most.

To them, the easiest way out was to end their boyfriend’s life. So they took a pair of scissors, sharpened them to a point, and stabbed their boyfriend to death. Immediately afterwards they fled the country and changed their name to what it currently is, Aleksy.

To them, the easiest way out was to end their boyfriend’s life. So they took a pair of scissors, sharpened them to a point, and stabbed their boyfriend to death. Immediately afterwards they fled the country and changed their name to what it currently is, Aleksy.

To them, the easiest way out was to end their boyfriend’s life. So they took a pair of scissors, sharpened them to a point, and stabbed their boyfriend to death. Immediately afterwards they fled the country and changed their name to what it currently is, Aleksy.

And that’s how they ended up the city they live in currently! Aleksy wanted to just live a typical life, completely separate themself from all trauma they lived through, but that was not how things would go.

Aleksy is constantly falling in love. And normally, this wouldn’t really be that bad, but Aleksy is both obsessive and utterly terrified of everything that love means.

They fall head over heels, and they also do it really unhealthily. Like, they stalk their crushes, try to learn every single little detail about them, but they also will never talk to any one of them. (That’s how they justify it as okay in their head. And it’s not like it would be a good idea to ever pursue a relationship. Aleksy is too imperfect for that.)

And for a while, they’re happy, their crush seems perfect in every way, and maybe this time they’ll even build up the confidence to actually say hi. And then cracks start to show in the perfect idealized version of their crush that Aleksy has built in their head, and they become scared.

Scared that if they let themself be vulnerable around this person, then they’ll be hurt. Scared that any minor imperfection could point to a much deeper flaw, one that could end up hurting them in so many different and horrible ways. And then the obsession that fed them happiness becomes something incredibly distressing. They don’t want to feel like this, they don’t want to think about this person, and they’re absolutely terrified of losing the little control they have over their life.

So Aleksy always ends up grabbing the sharpened scissors they never discarded, and stabbing their love in the throat in the dark streets of the city at night.

It’s the only way they know how to end it. When their crush is dead, Aleksy can safely put them out of their mind. The dead never hurt anybody, after all.

And this has happened multiple times. They’re a wanted serial killer, but also, no one knows that they’re the culprit. The police are very slow in solving any sort of case, even the serial murders get put on long holds. Aleksy has managed to get away with their murders for this reason.

Until, they meet Juno Líming. Juno is investigating the serial murders that Aleksy has committed, because her brother, Kyu, was one of the victims. She asks Aleksy some questions, not knowing that they were the one that killed her brother. Aleksy isn’t aware that she’s Kyu’s sister.

And then they end up becoming friends! Juno is pretty much Aleksy’s first friend, actually. Most of their life they weren’t allowed to make friends in any meaningful way, and even after they escaped that, they didn’t really have any sort of drive to make friends. But because Juno is pretty much consistently visiting them for investigation reasons, the two end up getting to know each other :D

Aleksy finally has a healthy relationship! They don’t become any sort of obsessed with Juno, and Juno knows how to like. Make friendship. They do some wholesome stuff together :)

And then I hit them with my comically large angst hammer! Because while Aleksy very much enjoys the friendship, Juno is also making a lot of progress in finding out how Aleksy committed their murders, and now she’s really close to figuring out who was behind it. And then Aleksy realizes that if Juno finds out that they’re the culprit, then they’ll never be friends again.

They end up totally panicking, and they get a little messy in hiding the evidence. And their slip-ups are enough to make Juno realize that her friend, the person who’s supported her through all her hard times and her investigation, is also the serial killer she’s been chasing all this time. And the same person who murdered her brother.

Aleksy tries to run after this, but Juno chases them and ends up cornering them! And Aleksy realizes that they’ll surely be caught now, that their only friend must hate them now, and that they can’t keep living this life but they don’t what else they can do.

They try to kill themself with their scissors, right then and there.

And they end up surviving, but not without a scar on their neck and some damage to their larynx.

They do end up being tried for their crimes, and well, now they’re on death row. Juno does end up visiting them a lot, tho. She can’t really reconcile her knowledge of Aleksy as a friend and confidant with the knowledge that Aleksy is a serial killer and murdered someone very close to her. So she kind of omits the latter from her head. Her impression of Aleksy as a friend is stronger. And she’s tired of losing people close to her, she won’t let anything like it happen again. If that means being Aleksy’s friend, then she will do that.

Aleksy doesn’t really understand why she still wants to be her friend, and they think the last thing they deserve is her friendship, but they’re happy for the company regardless.

#this isn't really whump more like angst #Aleksy is a pre-me-finding-out-about-the-whump-community OC #whump OCs #still labelling it like this anyways #angst #oc aleksy #my ocs <2 #I didn't really get into Aleksy's perfectionism + hypocrisy #they're like really insecure so they also developed a sort of ego to kinda cope #and that ego prevents them from feeling things like guilt and remorse #they also just don't really care about their victims as like actual people you know? #aleksy is mostly interested in the idealized versions of their crushes #and not in them as actual people #anyways yeah they're a total hypocrite #btw aleksy does die at the end #yeah in their story they do get executed #juno is the protagonist there's a lot more that goes on in the story but it's not super developed yet #anyways this is mostly just aleksy's perspective #I enjoy them a lot :D #also goddd I need to talk about Juno more she's one of my fave OCs #so this was a tag rant #if anyone else like reads this. I love asks about my OCs always <2 #plsss send some

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

My Top 10 Fics Of 2023

So, because it is the 'wrapped' time of year where everyone looks back on their year through playlists and other types of stats - I thought that I would look back on my year through something completely nonobjective and based on exactly 0 data - my favourite fics I have written this year that are based completely on my personal enjoyment of them.

Last year, I did something similar to this where I counted down the top ten fics based completely on data - how many notes each fic had gotten on tumblr. But most of the posts were shorter fics that I hadn't spent a lot of time working on that I wasn't very proud of. (Like the fact that my current most popular fanfic on my sideblog for fanfiction is the shortest in word count.) So I have decided to go over the fics that are the most popular in my heart - countdown style.

This year I have written 39 different fics and I have written over 395,000 words, and these are my favourite fics that I have written.

Honorable Mentions:

Black Suit - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader (2,900 words). One of the most well-rounded fics I have written in such a short word count. And just - look at her.

My Bleeding Heart - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (3,400 words). I have never used Death Eaters as the basis for angst in a fic and I had so much fun with it. Plus the kidfic fluff at the end was really fun too.

IFHY (I Fucking Hate You) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (8,100 words). So @holy-minseok made a post about how there isn't enough fics with reader characters that aren't nice and sweet and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. Because I have so many fics with rude, toxic readers and this is absolutely one of them. This reader is a Grade A Bitch and that's a huge reason why I had so much fun writing it.

Better Than Sleeping - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (5,300 words). This is some of the best quality smut I have written this year, hands down.

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (8,200 words). I love writing fics based on specific episodes of a show, and this definitely helped to fulfil my whump quota for the year.

Sweet Revenge - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (16,200 words). This is a fic that definitely converted me from a hardcore Abby girl into an Ellie girl. I am very proud of it. (And eventually I became an EllAbs girl, as god intended.)

Free Use Day - Poly!OG!Titans x Fem!Reader (14,300 words). This is probably my most epic and honorable of the honorable mentions. This is the first time in years that I have written such a long pwp, and it's written about some of my ult favs. So I fucking love it. (It came so, so close to making the top ten.)

(Now, onto the top ten.)

The Top Ten:

10. Dreaming Of You - Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Reader (31,300 words)

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship. Nothing except maybe… your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn’t possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn’t possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right? Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.

At first I wasn't even sure if I should put this one on the list, because it's technically a re-post, but I was like fuck it, I make the rules here. And the reason it's at 10 is because technically I wrote most of this in 2021 originally (though it feels like longer ago than that omg), but this year I heavily updated the fic, including writing some new scenes for it that flesh it out very nicely. To me, this is everything a good re-post should be. It cleans up what was already there and amazing about the fic and it enhances it so much.

I loved the concept of this fic from its core, and now I get to be so, so proud of the way I have enhanced it years later. To me, this will always be my core Gar fic (as much as I will always write more for him) - and it is something I am truly, genuinely proud of. If you love Gar and you love smutty fantasies involving him, I highly recommend checking this fic out.

9. No Brainer - Derek Cho x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Mayhem (2017)) (7,100 words)

When the ID-7 Virus, aka the Red Eye Virus hits Towers and Smythe Consulting, it throws the entire office building into chaos. With a mandatory quarantine from the CDC in action, that chaos builds in on itself, and somehow, you, Derek, and Melanie get everything that you want. aka You have something Derek and Melanie need. Derek and Melanie have something you want. You all agree to make an exchange, and everyone ends up more than happy. Derek Cho (Steven Yeun) x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving). Co-Works to Lovers. Smut. Based on the film Mayhem from 2017.

This is one of my personal favourite fics of mine that I believe very few people following me have ever read. I absolutely love writing fics based on random one-off horror movies - I have way more in my drafts, and one of my goals for 2024 is to complete and post more of them. But one night I was laying in bed and I randomly watched this film because I knew Steven Yeun was in it. I had seen a lot of clips of him covered in blood and yelling, and I found him really hot in those clips, so I knew that I would enjoy the film. And I absolutely fucking did. Not just based on his hotness, but just - the entire film was so, so enjoyable.

Also, the ID-7 Virus, a fictional sickness that lowers your inhibitions (something that is shown in the film to work like sex pollen) is the perfect basis for a fic. So I literally started writing this on my phone before I had even finished watching the film. And I posted it a few days later. I think it's just pure fun. One of my favourite things to write about is a healthy combination of horror and sex, and this is definitely toeing the line perfectly in my opinion. If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it - watch it, and then come back and read this fic.

8. My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (9,600 words)

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free. Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort.

This is a fic that is very close to my heart. Not only is named after a tragically underrated Fall Out Boy B-Side, one of my favourite songs ever, but it is a fic about conquering the abuse of a family member - and when I wrote this, it was coming from a place of the utmost sincerity.

I am someone who has experienced abuse from a family member, and it felt so entirely empowering to write this - to write about someone coming to your rescue so honestly. Someone rescuing you out of pure want, not because it's an obligation or a burden. But because they are compelled by their own morals and they feel that your abuse is a cruel injustice against the world. This and the companion fic I wrote for Abby with a similar storyline are two of the most important fics that I have written this year.

7. Ghosting - Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader (3,700 words)

Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you. Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).

I feel like this list would be incomplete if I didn't pick at least one of the FNAF fics that I wrote (and two of them ended up on here). With how much it was delayed, it was actually wild to see the FNAF Movie actually come to life before our very eyes, and it was amazing to actually write some fics about it. This is the first time (in a very long time) that I have written pure angst with no sense of fluff at the ending, and it was actually so much fun - it's fun to give into the darker side of a fic, and to write about the most torturous human emotions with absolutely no relief.

Also, I think dying in someone's arms (especially holding your lover or your would-be lover) is such a compelling trope and I loved writing about it. This was so much fun for me to write, and it was something so interesting to explore aside from the usual smut that I write.

6. From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader (3,000 words)

After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind. Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.

This year, I had another large foray into the Criminal Minds fandom, and I wrote a JJ fic for the first time. And just in general, I am so proud of this fic. I think even for a short fic, it has such a great essence - again, I love setting fics during specific episodes, and I found it so fun to play around with the religious imagery and the religious themes already in this episode, as well as the imagery of rabid dogs.

To me, this is what truly makes fanfiction great - taking details of the canon, chewing them up like bubblegum and then adding something else in to make them your own. I had so much fun writing this fic, 10/10.

5. Love From The Other Side (aka The Golf Club Fic) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (5,600 words)

Abby kills the man that has been haunting your nightmares for years. You find it only fitting to give her a proper reward. Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Set during The Last of Us Part II. (aka - the fic where Abby fucks the reader's pussy with the golf club that she used to kill Joel.)

So, as you will notice with this fic and the next one, 2023 was the year I truly said fuck it. There used to be a time when I was afraid to admit my weirder kinks and fantasies (like, I used to be afraid to even say that I read A/B/O), but then I realized that this is the freak-nasty website. And way too many people are shy. So I must be the one to provide the freak-nasty fics.

This is a fic I had in mind since the very first time I watched TLOU2 gameplay. And originally, it was going to be a simple, purely pornopraphic fic about Abby fucking the reader with the golf club - but as I was writing it, it turned into something that I find oddly beautiful. And (again, just like with the next fic) I find that writing about kinks in long-term relationships, especially the kind of relationships that have come to be co-dependent - it's like writing this toxic, cathartic poetry.

It's writing about two people who need each other but can be so horrible for each other - and it is one of my favourite things to write about because it's so damn interesting. This was a slay, and generally awesome because it was getting out an idea that's been in my head for years.

4. Damn The Man, Save The Empire - Vanessa Shelly x GN!Reader (6,100 words)

Vanessa has always taken care of you. Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you. (Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).

Again, like I said with the previous fic - this was one of my favourite fics to write because it is so delightfully unhinged. I really enjoy exploring toxic relationships through fiction because - for one, writing healthy, functioning relationships is not always interesting. And there is something so beautifully dark and poetic about writing two people who have grown into each other like twisted tree branches and need each other, but are so bad for each other.

And this year I have been exploring gender neutral smut a lot more. I used to always write fem reader smut as my default, but I have been having a lot of fun with the creativity of writing smut without describing the reader's body in detail. I love coming up with metaphors and describing around the body parts. I find it to be a fun creative challenge. Anyway - this was a lot of fun to write, and I highly recommend it if you enjoy reading darker fics.

3. Lessons For A Genius (Lesson One) - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (17,200 words)

What could a certified genius possibly have to learn from someone like you? Turns out - a hell of a lot.  And the real ‘teaching’ started when your graphic explanations of slang toward Spencer for the sheer shock value of it turned into something a lot more… hands on.  Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.

I feel like it would be a miss to make this list without mentioning a fic that I obsessed over for two weeks straight - a fic that drove me insane in the best way. Of course, there is also the sequel, but I personally prefer the first lesson. This fic has been brewing in my mind for a very long time, because it is painfully obvious to me that Spencer (in the early seasons) is an awkward virgin, and I have always wanted to ruin him.

This fic is a lot of my fantasies brought to life, and I feel like it's a really masterful painting of those fantasies - for once, without overly focusing on the murder mystery aspect of Criminal Minds fanfiction (which I have a tendency to get distracted by). I am really, really proud of this fic, and I know you guys enjoyed it. It is definitely a highlight of my writing this year.

2. Emergency Contact - Jason Todd x GN!Reader (10,500 words)

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts. Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

This is a fic I have talked about a lot recently, because I have been working on the sequel. (I was hoping to get the sequel finished and posted before the end of December, but it's gonna be a longer fic, so it's looking like it's gonna be one of the first fics of January instead.) Anyway - to me, this is by far one of my best fics and one of my most important fics of 2023. This was battling for the top spot.

But even if it's second place, I am so incredibly proud of this fic. I think it's beautifully written, I am incredibly proud of the literary references I worked in with The Great Gatsby - especially because I feel like Jason would be the type to read Gatsby and compare himself to someone tragic and doomed like Gatsby (he would soo compare himself to Gatsby, especially because he was also a poor kid who was randomly sponsored by a rich man who saw potential in him). Overall, I just had a very distinct vision when writing the fic, and that vision came to life. And I really, really hope that my vision comes to life in the sequel too.

1. King For A Day - Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (22,400 words) 

You have always had a special relationship with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the one and only Harry Potter. When you set out to help them find and destroy Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes, it seems that your intimate knowledge of them is the one thing keeping them together - until the unique dynamic shifts, thanks to one of those pesky pieces of dark magic. Angry voices carry, and it turns out - moans of pleasure do too. Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (Fem!Reader x Harry Potter x Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with a slight bit of Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows.

And finally, we get to my favourite fic of the year!!

So, I'm gonna be honest, a huge reason that this fic gets the top slot is because of my nostalgia for Harry Potter. This year was the first time in a long time that I have written Harry Potter fanfiction, and it felt like a reawakening of my soul. I was genuinely happy, and I was spending time enjoying concepts and characters that I have not thought about for a long time.

This fic in particular, I feel like I have been working on it for years in my mind. This fic is a culmination of all my thoughts about these characters, all my time in the Harry Potter fandom, and generally, I am so, so proud of it. I am proud that my love for Harry Potter has come to fruition in this form - a poly smut fic, something that is just so me.

Overall - I had such a great year chasing fic ideas that make me happy, despite the popularity of the characters or the fandoms, and I encourage you guys to spend 2024 doing the same. Cheers!

#sundrop speaks #fanfiction #gar logan x reader #emily prentiss x reader #draco malfoy x reader #abby anderson x reader #jason todd x reader #ellie williams x reader #spencer reid x reader #mike schmidt x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #vanessa shelly x reader

[orange-orchard-system]

One of my more minor gripes about the "serial killer alter" trope is that I think there is opportunity for genuine, well-made stories about a system that kills. You could potentially write some really interesting stories involving internal conflict over murder in a system – for instance, if a system killed once in self-defense, and one of the headmates is keeping that memory from the rest of them. Or if an alter came back from dormancy to find out the world's gone to shit and everyone knows "them" as the one willing to kill to protect their group of survivors. Hell, fuck it, have some kind of "no, I'm being literal when I say the version of me that you knew isn't present anymore, this isn't some metaphor for how I've become ~evil~" conflict! So long as it's done in a way that gives the system in question nuance and reason for their actions, I'd be willing to see where the story is going with this!

But nooooooo, it's all stock-standard "this one alter kills others for no good reason" shit with a dash of "don't look too long into the implications that this plural superhero/anti-hero just killed a bunch of people, just accept that they do this" hand-waving that makes people think we're going to stab them if they look away for too long. It's always "this imposter is pretending to be our loved one for nefarious reasons" angst and never "oh shit we treated this alter like shit for just being different than the host" angst. There's not even any originality smh smh. We've already gotten a thousand of these horror plots that use plurality as a one-size-fits-all villain cap; I'm sure horror, whump, and angst writers can do better if they really want to write about a system that kills others

#plurality #pluralgang #actuallyplural #plural system #front soup.txt #death #pluralprose

[fungifanart]

Deserted

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, male reader, yuu!reader

CW: Heavy angst/whump, slight suicidal ideation

Word count: 1K

Notes: Did you guys know that Leona is my favorite character? (Also, @oleilaa got mad at me when I didn't tag them in my last Leona-related fic)

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

Somehow, Leona knew that this is how it would all end for him.

Trudging alone across a barren desert, the hot sand slowly burning the bottoms of his bare feet beyond repair, his once proud and well-maintained mane now a rat's nest caked with more sand.

He turns his dry eyes up towards the horizon, hoping to see even a mirage of an oasis just to revel in the illusion of hope, but his mind won't even grant him that much. So he lowers his gaze back to the ground, he doesn't have a destination in mind anyway.

Should he go back to his home? What home? His "home" is nothing more than a large building full of people who hate him and reminders of all of his failures and shortcomings. In that sense, his home is just one big prison.

And he'd rather die than go back there.

So he keeps walking. In no definite direction. All while his hunger and thirst eat away at his insides and the harsh sunlight beats down on him from above.

This must be punishment for the Spelldrive tournament. The karma for his scheming, sabotage and lashing out has finally caught up. And it's going to be the death of him.

After what feels like hours of painful walking with no end in sight, Leona's legs finally give out. Leaving him no other option but to use his hands to drag himself across the sand on his stomach.

This is unequivocally the lowest Leona's ever felt: Aimlessly dragging himself across a desert he feels no greater than a grain of sand in.

However, just as Leona's arms are beginning to give out as well, he hears the sound of light footsteps approaching and looks up to see a familiar-looking face crouching down in front of him and extending a helping hand. Though, his eyes are too dry and tired to recognize who it is.

A few seconds of blinking later, his eyes finally adjust enough to fully make out the person's face, recognizing him as the prefect of Ramshackle dorm who's smiling like nothing is wrong as he holds out his hand.

Leona's eyes go unfocused again as he questions how he came to be here and, more importantly, why he's reaching out to him now.

Why is the Prefect reaching out to Leona: The man who put him through so much, almost taking his life in the process, and used him as a simple pawn on a chessboard before leaving him by the wayside?

Does he...really forgive him despite everything?

One more look at the Prefect's comforting smile and still outstretched hand gives him his answer: The sun positioned perfectly behind the other man's head to create a halo around it, giving him the look of a saint.

And that's what he is to Leona.

A saint.

A savior.

An angel.

His angel.

Leona finally musters the strength to reach out and take the Prefect’s hand...only for cracks in his skin and the color of sand to quickly spread all over the Prefect’s body, starting from where Leona had taken his hand.

Leona frantically lets go of the Prefect, but it's already too late. In the Prefect’s place stands a sand sculpture of him, still holding out its hand with a no longer comforting smile, which then crumbles into another pile of sand, indistinguishable from the rest surrounding him.

His body forces out whatever water it has left in the form of tears as the realization hits him.

He was a fool to have hope.

This is who he is.

Destroying things, reducing them to sand no matter what or who they are, is all that he's good for.

Who's to say that this entire desert isn't his handiwork as well?

His despairing cries echo over the area as the wind picks up, sweeping up the Prefect’s remains into a sandstorm that swirls around him almost mockingly.

Leona's body curls itself into a ball as his cries continue, growing more labored as sand invades his mouth and throat, drying them out and causing him to cough more than cry, wishing that his signature spell worked on himself as well.

The wind howls in his ears as this happens and he swears he can almost make out the sound of malicious laughter at such a pitiful display.

This new torture goes on for what may well be hours or even days for all Leona knows. He has to keep his eyes closed to shield from the sand and the sandstorm is blocking his view of the sun regardless.

This is truly his personal hell.

However, an unknown amount of time later, the laughter dies down before completely disappearing, taking the sandstorm with it with what sounds like a defeated sigh.

Leona opens his eyes, blinking the sand out of them as a more grounded set of footsteps than before approaches and he feels a hand take his and lift him up onto his feet, which suddenly feel normal again. In fact, everything about him feels normal again!

Looking at his savior, Leona is shocked to see the Prefect once again. However, his face bears much more mixed emotions than before, the forefront of which being...pity.

"I can't stay mad at you." He says with a sigh while turning away, "So I'm giving you one chance to wake up and get out of my sight."

Leona doesn't move or say anything, still too surprised over this development to even attempt waking up from this apparent dream.

A few seconds pass and the Prefect looks back at him with an incredibly frustrated expression, "Didn’t you hear me?!" He says before winding up to slap him.

"WAKE UP!!!"

The moment the Prefect’s hand connects with Leona's face is when he jolts awake, sitting up in his bed in Savannaclaw, with the only remnants of what he'd experienced being a dry feeling in his throat and a dull pain on his cheek.

#why is this mushroom writing fanfics? #twisted wonderland #twst leona #twst #leona kingscholar #twst mc #twst yuu #angst #heavy angst #tw sui ideation #twst x reader #twst x male reader #leona x reader

[maesphantoms]

Breathless (Simon 'Ghost' Riley, John 'Soap' MacTavish, GN! Reader Plationic)

Warnings: Takes place during the mission 'Alone', talks of blood, injury, and death. Gunshots and knives. Medical and military inaccuracy.

Genre: Angst/Whump

Word Count: 5,511

I basically got up gameplay of this mission and ran through it so there is a lot of dialogue from the actual mission. Feel free to ignore this if that isn't your cup of tea :D I had an idea going into this, but very quickly lost it haha I'm not very proud of it, but hey I'm rusty so what can I expect?

Not proofread

For once in what feels like forever, Soap was finally quiet. You were sat next to him while Ghost followed Graves back to Alejandro’s base and as much as you loved the Scottish bastard, he just kept talking and teasing you. About a shot you missed or height or anything else he could think of. You could tell that it was getting on Alejandro’s nerves too, but he was far too nice to say anything to him. As for Ghost, you could tell he had checked Soap out long ago. Whenever you tried to catch his eyes in the rear view mirror you could see that he was far away in his mind, distracted by something in his head. You’ll have to ask him what it is once you’re all settled for the night.

 

Ah….I can’t wait to shower… You thought to yourself. It had, after all been a very tiring day. It’s not everyday that you get to blow up an oil rig. Especially one with a missile. Admittedly, yes, Soap and Graves did all the work in the ACTUAL blowing up of the thing, but hey, you and Ghost did a damn good job being a part of the team.

 

“Johnny…?” You heard Ghost finally speak, the first time since you all got back into the truck.

 

Raising your eyes back up the rear view mirror, you could see him trying to look at Soap but you could only see his eyes from the reflections from the headlights bouncing off the trucks in front of us. You glanced over at Soap to see him nodding off. Elbowing his side, you pointed to Ghost once Soap looked at you.

 

“You say something, L.T.?” Soap cleared his throat.

 

“Making sure you’re still breathing is all. I don’t have a good feeling..” The Lieutenant muttered the last part under his breath.

 

As if on cue, the truck in front of you pulled to a stop right outside the gates of Alejandro’s base. You all shared a look and began to get out. Graves hopped out of his own truck as some of his men began to walk towards him. Your stomach began to feel like it was filled with lead as you walked around the side of the truck to stand next to Ghost, Soap and Alejandro on the other side.

 

“What’s this?” Alejandro asked Graves, pointing to the men standing by the gate.

 

“This is the immediate future. Step away from the gate.” Graves responded, walking towards Alejandro.

 

Ghost glanced behind you as you heard the footsteps of someone walking up behind you. Your hand slowly inched towards your knife. This was going to be bad. You glanced at Ghost and both almost imperceptibly nodded.

 

“What?” Soap’s voice cut through the air. You may have wanted him to shut up in the truck, but you were happy he was talking now.

 

“You heard me.”

 

“You’re crazy, this is my base.” Alejandro motioned towards the base.

 

“It’s not a base. This is a sizable covert facility…and I admire it. So, I’m taking it.” Your hand closed on your knife, the other one forming a fist. This was going to be really bad. “You boys…and Owl.. have been relieved. Thank you for your service.”

 

“No, no, no. I don’t take orders from you.” You could feel the anger coming off Alejandro and Ghost in waves. Oh fuck, this is going to be really really bad.

You began to formulate a plan in your head. There was one man behind you and one man beside Ghost. Then from where you could see, two behind Graves. Out of your peripheral, you could see one behind Soap. You’ve seen how many men Graves could have with him so you couldn’t count on these being the only ones here. You couldn’t see on the other side of Graves’ truck and there could be more behind him. If you took the one behind you, Ghost the one beside him, you could get the ones behind Graves while Alejandro got him and Soap with the one behind him.

 

This plan could not work as the others don’t seem focused on the men as you. Except for Ghost, but you two were basically two sides to the same coin. You could communicate with just your eyes. A truly terrifying duo to be up against. As if he heard you, Ghost’s fists tightened and he followed suit in slowly reaching for his knife.

 

“What the fuck did you just say to me, pendejo…?” Alejandro began walking towards Graves, but Soap put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him,

 

“You’re out of line, Graves.”

 

“Don’t do that,” Graves stepped back and pointed a finger at Soap. Every muscle in your body was tense. “Don’t….do that. No one needs to get hurt here.”

 

“Are you threatening us?” Ghost’s voice slightly made you jump as he took half a step closer to you.

 

“Soldier, I don’t make threats. I make guarantees. So let’s not do this.” The cogs in your head were spinning at a rapid pace. Where are the weak spots in their armor? What happens if the other two don’t move as fast as you and Ghost? What if someone gets shot? Does Graves have more men posted where they can’t see?

“I’m calling Shepard.” Soap said, eerily calm, before turning around and beginning to walk towards the truck.

 

“General Shepard sends his regards.” Your veins turn to ice. Of course. Of fucking course. “He told me y’all wouldn’t take this well.”

 

“He knows about this?” Ghost sounded incredulous. All the pieces began to fall into place for you. You glared at Graves, you were going to skin the blonde bastard.

 

“He’s put me in command of this operation from here on out. So y’all need to stand down. It’s time for the pros to finish this.” Soap turned and made eye contact with you and Ghost. “And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s NOT. I’ve got my orders and now you have yours.” Oh, you’re turning the skinny bastard into your toothpick.

 

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón? My men are inside!” Alejandro yelled. The man behind you took a couple steps forward. You began to see red and your hands began to shake.

 

“I’m afraid not. Your men have been….” Graves sucks on his teeth, “Detained.” Alejandro lurches forward and gets thrown against the truck out of view. Fuck! You have to come up with a new plan….and fast.

 

“Graves, what the fuck?!” You yell.

 

Gunshots. No time to formulate a new plan. You lunge back and elbow the man behind you in the gut then stab him in his eye. Ghost shoves the man in front of him to the truck and sinks his knife in his neck as you hear Alejandro struggling. You can barely see Soap through the window holding a Shadow by the neck and shooting at Graves. Ghost pulls you to a kneel and you inch along the truck as Soap groans and falls on his back. The gunshots stop.

 

“Go Johnny, get out of there! Soap! Go!” Ghost yells beside you. You look over and see Soap get up and jump over the concrete barrier, the Shadows shooting after him.

 

“Your turn, Ghost. Go.” You whisper to him under the gunshots, pulling out your pistol.

 

“What?” He turns and looks at you.

 

“There’s not enough time. Go or I’ll kill you myself.” You push his shoulder and his eyes harden.

 

“You better come out of this alive, Owl.”

 

“That’s the idea, Lieutenant.” You smile as he runs off into the darkness just as the gunshots stop.

 

“You there, Ghost? Owl? That was a big mistake, folks. It did not have to be like this.” You heard Graves walking around the side of the truck so you made your way to the front, trying to find Alejandro. Fuck, he’s gone. “Son of a bitch… find em!” Graves yelled.

 

How the fuck were you going to get out of this situation now? You needed to distract them a little longer. You needed to find out where Alejandro is. Time to wing it.

 

“Graves! You fucked up big time, brother!” You yelled, watching the feet under the truck run to where you were. Just able to squeeze under it, you quietly and quickly moved to the middle then backed up until you could crawl under the one behind you. “I’m gonna enjoy making a rug of your scrawny ass.” You cackled.

 

“Owl…we will find you. And the two British idiots.” He mused. You continued to move around and under the trucks where they couldn’t see you. This was too easy.

 

“Oh, no you won’t. But we’ll find you. And you won’t see us until my knife is in your throat, pretty boy.”

 

You climbed on top of the truck that Graves was originally in. Grabbing a grenade of one of the dead Shadows on the way up, you whistled and as they all turned, saluted them before throwing it. Graves managed to shoot a bullet at you before running away and it found its place…somewhere around your collarbone. You bit back a screen as you ran off while it exploded. Gunshots and shouts following you.

 

 

 

Once you were sure you lost them in the woods, you began to head towards the town as that’s where you saw Soap run. You just had to hope Ghost headed the same way and neither idiot had gotten themselves killed. Every small action brought incredible amounts of pain to you, but the internal mission to find the boys overrode everything. That’s not to say you didn’t feel the pain, because you definitely did. In every single breath, every single step. You didn’t dare move your right arm.

 

As the street lights started to wash over you, you dipped into an open shop and sat down to catch your breath behind the counter. You could hear distant screaming and gunshots and had to hope it wasn’t Ghost and Soap. Bringing your left arm over your radio ripped a scream from your throat that you tried your hardest to keep quiet and you flicked through the radio channels. It was filled with random Shadow chatter. You kept flicking until you came across a familiar voice.

 

“-iper position in the church tower. Find your way there, and you might just make it. Then we can look for Owl.” You’ve never been so happy to hear the grumpy bastard’s voice.

 

“No need, Lieutenant. I’m here.”

 

“Owl!” Soap exclaimed.

 

“You injured, Owl?”

 

“Aww, look at you, Ghost. All concerned.” You teased, laying your head back against the counter. You needed to move. And soon.

 

“Answer the question, sergeant.”

 

“I caught a bullet to the collarbone. Luckily, it didn’t hit an artery.. Would’ve bled out a while back in that case.  I guess that’s what I get for giving Graves a grenade…even if the slimy bastard was able to run from it. Are either of you?”

 

“Hold on, your collarbone?!” Soap exclaimed.

 

“Very exciting, I know.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Other than the potential to be bleeding into my chest cavity? Oh, I’m swell. Shall we go out for some drinks after all this?”

 

“Enough. Owl, get yourself to the church. I’ve set up a sniper point there and Johnny is on his way here. Where are you?” Ghost’s voice sounded tense.

 

“Umm…that’s a hard question. It’s some shop. I’m behind the counter right now.”

 

“Get a move on, and be careful. There’s Shadows everywhere.”

 

“Church….right.” You said, mostly to yourself. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, you pulled yourself to your feet. Even though you could now taste blood as you bit into your lip, you managed to keep quiet.

 

“Are you able to bandage yourself, Owl? Is it still in you?”

 

“No exit wound.”

 

The comms then went silent. Checking your gun, you counted how many bullets you had. Once you got yourself ready, you put your left hand over the bleeding hole and began to walk out the door. You could barely see the towers of the church over the other buildings. The screams and gunshots still far enough away that you felt comfortable running towards the gleaming building.

 

As you rounded a corner, you could see the carnage left in the wake of the Shadows. Blood and bodies filled the streets as the rain began to wash it all away. Not fast enough. Shaking your head, you attempted to focus on the mission at hand. You would get Graves for this, it didn’t matter if you had to to die as well.

 

“Graves is rounding up cops.” You heard Soap’s voice come over comms again.

 

“He’s judge, jury, and executioner now.” Ghost grumbled.

 

“Guess that’s what happens when you can’t make it in the real world. You have to kill an entire town to feel good about yourself. I can’t wait to skin the little bastard. Maybe stuff him and hang him on the wall for all of the Shadows to see.” You spit out, watching a pair of Shadows walk across an intersection in front of you.

 

“Just focus on getting to the church, Owl. Graves will get what’s coming to him soon, I can assure you of that.”

 

“You’re telling me, you see that big boy with the skull face and you’re not gonna start sweatin’?” You could faintly hear a Shadow say from nearby.

 

You smiled to yourself and continued to slowly sneak through the roads.

 

“I’m not going to see him.”

 

“You’re right, you won’t see him. It’s too late if you see him, you’re fuckin’ dead already.”

 

He wasn’t wrong. Ghost definitely was one to lurk in the shadows and take his enemies out from cover more than lunging straight into the fight. It was something you admired about him. Something you were inspired to try more. Now, you were nowhere as skilled with a throwing knife as he was, but you were able to sneak up behind enemies and slit their throat before moving onto the next. Something you’d have to put into action as you made your way through the death and blood riddled streets. You were cold and in pain. Every single breath hurt. You kept your hand on the wound as best as you could to apply pressure, pretty sure it wasn’t slowing down the bleeding. The church was still a ways away and the more you spent out in the rain, the more a sense of dread began to fill you. What if you didn’t make it…what if Soap or Ghost gets caught by the Shadows….what if YOU got caught by the Shadows…would they kill you right away or torture you to get an answer out of you as to where your companions were?

 

You shook your head again, you needed to keep your composure. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you focused on the road ahead of you and the radio crackling in your ears as Ghost was teaching Soap about different tools and weapons he could make. Making mental notes, you kept a look out for the same things Soap kept finding. You just had to hope it would be enough.

 

“Feeling weak, are you, Johnny?

 

“A bit shaky, sir, yeah.”

 

“And you, Owl?”

 

“Never better, sir.” You grimaced as the pain flared up as if to make a point.

 

“Graves tried to kill us. Would stand to reason if you were a little off. Find a stim, it’ll give you a boost.”

 

Nodding to yourself, you began walking through a clothes store. A welcome relief away from the rain and the Shadow currently patrolling outside of it. A short break couldn’t hurt you. You needed to catch your breath. Sneaking around the counter, you found yourself in the changing room which was pitch black. Pulling yourself against the wall, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. How much longer could you do this…

 

Grabbing a shirt that lay discarded on the ground, you attempted to use it to stem the blood from your shoulder. Going through a mental checklist, you thought about attempting to find a needle and thread to just sew the wound shut and be done with it, but you knew that was a bad idea. Just as you mentally scolded yourself for the dumb idea, you heard a noise from the other side of the wall. Quiet footsteps, almost imperceptible with the rain pounding down outside. Pulling yourself back into a crouch, you tightly held your knife in your hand and stared at the door frame beside you. If you had to ambush the Shadow so be it. You figured he’d eventually come into the store and it appears now was the time.

 

Glaring at the door, you readied yourself to lunge at the man as soon as he walked through, but instead were shocked to see a man crouched down to the same level as you, backing his way into the dark room. He turned around and held up a bottle before sighing in relief.

 

“Owl, steamin’ Jesus you scared me.” Soap whispered.

 

You all but collapsed into the wall again. Thunder rumbled.

 

“You doin’ alright there?”

 

“Peachy.” You sounded breathless.

 

“Ghost, Owl and I found each other. They aren’t doing to hot by the looks of it.”

 

“Copy. Hurry and get here the both of you, and then we can find some help. Keep your head level, Owl, we need you.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Once again, you pulled yourself into a crouch and nodded at Soap while he began to search the room for anything of use, something you hadn’t gotten to yet. He could grab everything for all you cared. You just needed to get to the church. Let Soap do all the crafting he wanted.

 

Soap nodded to you when he was ready to once again ready to move. You both walked out the end of the hall where the changing room was which lead to what was obviously a backroom to the store. A dead Shadow sat against a wall next to a window, knife sticking out of his neck.

 

“Ghost, you missing a knife..?”

 

“Several.” You could practically hear the smirk. Laughing breathlessly, you shook your head.

 

“Think we found one.”

 

“Some of the dead Shadows are my handiwork.”

 

“You came through here?” Why is it getting more difficult to talk? Soap glances at you.

 

“On my way to the church.”

 

“And you left us?” Soap sounded hurt.

 

“I’m used to working alone.”

 

“So much for no man left behind.” You muttered.

 

“Just get yourselves to the church. Tryin’ to keep you two alive and get you here in one piece. One of us needs to survive and tell the tale.”

 

“Takin’ a shine to us then?” Soap teased, elbowing you to which you glared at him. He put his hands up in an apology.

 

“Not in the slightest. Still got a lot of ground to cover.” The radio crackled to silence.

 

“That’s that, I guess.” You laughed.

 

“Let’s get to work. Go through the window, I’ll be right after you.” Soap gestured to the broken window beside you.

 

Taking a breath, you readied yourself and jumped through the broken glass and landed on your feet with a low grunt. You could faintly hear a Shadow giving a sit rep to his radio. They hadn’t found any of you and were slowly getting more and more on edge. Much like you felt. Your nerves felt electrified. Sure, you’ve been on some shitty missions, but nothing like this. Nothing with this big of a toll. The screaming and gunshots were slowly quieting down. They were running out of townsfolk to slay, which meant they would be on guard much more now that they didn’t have any other targets to keep track of. You couldn’t see the church from where you were, but you hoped it was closer.

 

Soap followed behind you and spotted a crate at the end of the little alley you two were in. You both walked over to it and he opened it while you were keeping a lookout. Your hand was aching from how tight you held your knife, your gun sitting heavy in it’s holster.

 

“Seek and ye shall find.”

 

“Whatchya got?” You heard Ghost’s voice again.

 

“Black powder.” Soap began to put together a mine.

 

“Nice. This could get interesting.”

 

“God, am I happy you’re trained in that shit.” You gestured to him.

 

“As am I.” Soap smiled, widely. “Lt. About to play rough with the Shadows.”

 

“I like the sound ‘o that.” You raised your eyebrows at the tone of his voice.

 

“Fashioned a trip mine.”

 

“A man after my own heart.”

 

“Thought you’d like that.”

 

“You thought right.”

 

You stared at Soap in shock. Well all right then… For the third time, you had to shake your head to focus. You’d never get over how they jokingly flirt with each other in the face of danger. The first mission you did with them had you struggling not to laugh at how effortlessly they would fall into doing it. Ghost acted like he hated everyone, but you could tell that he and Soap were close friends.

 

“Oh, don’t let me distract you from getting to your boyfriend. By all means, lead the way Johnny.” You teased.

 

Soap shook his head and laughed before beginning to walk towards the other end of the alley and took out the Shadow you had heard talking earlier. You hung back a little and let him take him down. Looking through the different doorways you had passed in case he had any buddies with him.

 

“Killed a Shadow.”

 

“Nice.”

 

“Took his gun.”

 

“Good work. Moving up in the world, Johnny. Choose your shots and targets wisely, Johnny. Guns make noise.”

 

“I could’ve given you mine if you wanted it.” You walked into one of the open doors and spotted another dead Shadow.

 

Walking back into the alley, you let Soap take the lead again. Once the other Shadows in the area found the body, Soap looked at you before throwing a smoke bomb and you both ran forward and took out one of them and as you were pulling your knife out of the one you got, Soap got the last one. You bent over and attempted to catch your breath. A wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere. Soap grabbed your arm but you waved him off and stood up. How fucking far was this damn church?

 

Once you looked passed the Shadows you noticed a balcony that you had to jump off of. This would be fun. Steeling yourself, you leapt and landed on your feet with a slight slide with the slippery ground.

 

“It’s pishin it doon oot here.” You heard Soap say as he landed beside you. You just looked at him, confused.

 

“Speak English.” Ghost’s deadpan voice made you laugh.

 

“It’s rainin’ fuckin’ hard.” Soap sassily responded, making you snort.

 

“Then say so.”

 

“I did!” Soap raised his hands up in exasperation.

 

“Rain’s good. It’ll cover your tracks.”

 

“Covers theirs too..”

 

“Let’s worry about you two, Johnny.”

 

“So you do like me?” You teased.

 

“I like you alive.”

 

You laughed again then turned to open a door, Soap immediately pulling you to a stop. Turning to look in the door you saw a shotgun pointed straight at you. Backing up, you silently thanked Soap. You once again tried to catch your breath as Soap went around and disarmed the trap you nearly walked into. Absentmindedly, you put your good hand on your chest, you couldn’t tell if it was from the gunshot or if something else was wrong. Your chest hurt.

 

“Come on in, Owl.” Soap said, holding the shotgun. “Ghost, found a tripwire rigged up to a shotgun. Disarmed it. Took the gun.”

 

“Open hearts and minds with it, Johnny.”

 

As soon as you walked through the threshold of the doorway you heard a distant banging. You and Soap made eye contact and he headed up the stairs holding out the shotgun. Putting your pain aside, you followed him, knife tightly clenched again. At the top of the stairs, you were greeted with a long hallway, the door at the end being the source of the banging. It echoed loudly down the hall and, admittedly, made you jump slightly every time it came. Your mind was immediately filled with the images of zombie movies and how there’s always a scene like this. The survivors in a dark and spooky hallway while a zombie banged on the door, waiting until they put their guard down to smash through it and eat them. Your hair was already standing on end when the British bastard’s voice spoke through the radio again, making you jump and quietly curse him out.

 

“Johnny… Graves is burning the midnight oil to find us..why?”

 

“Graves and Shepard are both involved. No matter what, this is an unprecedented amount of fuckery.”

 

“We need to get to the bottom of it.” You chimed in, you didn’t know if it was your fear and mental image of a zombie on the other side of the door or whatever the fuck was going on with your chest, but you couldn’t get a deep breath in.

 

You were a hardened soldier and here you are, terrified of a fictional movie trope. Soap turned and looked at you again as you struggled to breathe in. Waving your hand, you two continued to look through the small house as the banging on the door continued.

 

“Accurate and deadly fire tends to resolve those things. Right now, we’re not safe here.”

 

“Right now, we’re not safe anywhere, L.t.”

 

As you rounded a corner, you saw a shadow on the wall the looked as if someone had been speared through and left there. Once again, your hand flew to your chest as you struggled to breathe, the thought of zombies came back. Forcing yourself to round the corner, you saw one of those stupid boxing toys next to the home’s…previous tenant.

 

“Owl, what is with you?” Soap asked, walking over when he heard you wheeze while trying to gain your breath.

 

“I’m fine.” You waved him off again, but this time he finally walked over and made you sit down against the wall so he could look at your wound. The bleeding had slowed with the shirt you used earlier, but still oozed when he untied it from around your shoulder.

 

“We need to hurry.” He muttered to himself. “You ready to head out now?”

 

“Only if you go first because my mind is convinced that THAT,” You pointed to the door as it banged again. “Is a zombie ready to eat us.”

 

“What the fuck?” Soap laughed at you as he retied the shirt.

 

“I don’t fucking know, man. Maybe it’s the blood loss. Because that screams zombie movie. Oh god. What if this is how we found about the apocalypse, on the run from Graves? That’d be horrible.” You winced as he tightened the shirt and made it into a makeshift sling.

 

“L.t., you hear this shit?” Soap asked, laughing again.

 

All you got in response was a grunt. Soap pulled the shotgun back into his hands and started to head to the door. You bit your lip as you steadied yourself. In the end, the cause of the noise would haunt you far more than any zombie. As soon as Soap turned the knob, a man fell through it and reached his bloody hand towards you two while dragging in a raggedy breath before going limp and lifeless.

 

“Poor bastard..” You whispered, stepping around him.

 

“Owl, over here. Found adrenaline stims.” Soap ushered you over to a nearby crate, making you tear your eyes off the dead man.

 

For the first time since you met up with Soap, your hand loosened around the knife. Your knuckles screamed as you put it down to grab the stim. Both of you nodded at each other and injected it.

 

“Good mornin’ Mexico..” Soap grinned.

 

The surge of adrenaline in your body made you forget about the tightness in your chest for a little while. You followed Soap into the next building, a coffee shop with a broken railing. Once again, the two men started their banter and you just laughed at them.

 

“The mask, take it off.”

 

“Show my face?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Negative.”

 

“Are you ugly?”

 

“Quite the opposite.”

 

“I doubt that.”

 

Soap helped you jump down onto the 1st floor and then you heard Shadows talking. The both of you went back into a crouch and you pointed the men walking around outside the window and Soap looked at you and pointed to the open door then put his finger up to his lips.

 

“Johnny, the town’s full of tunnels.” Ghost’s voice crackled over the radio once more.

 

Slowly, you and Soap began to take out the Shadows one at a time. When the last one went down, you winced and adjusted your arm in the sling. Soap looked at you as your wheezing became louder. He knew something was wrong, but you two needed to get to Ghost. You just needed to last a little longer then once you were all out of this situation, then he’d interrogate you.

 

The rain continued to pound on you both as you made your way to the tunnels, taking down Shadows whenever you had the chance. Soap continued to craft different mines, molotavs, and pry tools. Eventually, you two landed in the freezing water and began to make your way through it. You tried to fight your teeth chattering as you were slowly overtaken by a bone deep chill. The water you walked through had blood mixed into it. From you, Soap, or the carnage you’d never know. Probably a mix of the above.

 

As you two climbed up the stairs out of the tunnel, you were never so happy to see a fucking building. But of course, it’s blocked off. Never the easy way. You and Soap began to make your way through different shops, the adrenaline in your system almost depleted. Just a quick break. You just needed a quick break and then you could keep going.

 

You leaned against the wall as you saw Soap head for the door. He pulled on it and noticed it was locked so as he pulled out on of his homemade pry tools, you tried to say something to him. Tried to tell him to wait so you can catch your breath. You just needed to catch your breath and you’d kill all the Shadows that hunted you three. Nothing came out. A deep exhaustion came over you. You were cold and you were tired. And fucking hell did your chest hurt.

 

Everything moved in slow motion. Soap got the door open, but then was on the ground with a gun pointed at his face. You could faintly hear Graves voice on the Shadow’s radio. Reaching for your gun, you could barely raise it before the Shadow was dead.

 

“Holy hell, Ghost was that you?”

 

“Who else? Now go.”

 

Soap turned around to look at you and you could immediately see the panic on his face. Your eyes were half closed and a faint whistling was all that was your breathing. Guilt immediately started to overcome him. He should’ve stopped you earlier when he heard you wheezing. You could see him talking, but all you could hear was your heartbeat and your breathing. Suddenly, more Shadows started coming in and you did your best to shoot them, Soap put his hands around your waist and pulled you up. Pain shot through your entire right side. And then you two were running. You’d be lying if you completely knew where you were going. The world seemed to blink in and out of existence.

 

Whatever flashes you would get confused you. You were outside, then inside, then outside again. A large iron fence. Ghost was suddenly next to you. Then you were sitting in a truck. The truck slammed through barbed wire. Soap was undoing the sling again. Finally, your consciousness slipped through your fingers like sand and you were falling.

 

 

 

It felt like someone was sitting on your chest. You groaned as you opened your eyes. Immediately, you felt a hand on yours. Blinking away the bleariness from your eyes, you turned and looked to see Soap standing there. Ghost not too far behind him. You were clearly in a hospital.

 

“It wasn’t a zombie, was it?” You whispered to Soap.

 

He shook his head and laughed weakly.

 

“Damn. That would’ve been a good way to go.”

 

“Collapsed lungs and blood loss not good enough for you?” Ghost piped in.

 

“Hell no.” You smiled, “At least Graves didn’t get what he wanted. I bet he’s pissed.”

 

“You know it.”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #modern warfare x reader #maesphantoms

[theo-grayson]

Anyone who's taken a look at my notes knows I Fucking Ramble, so don't look here unless you wanna see me share way too many thoughts about Our Life: Now and Forever (including way too much about my personal life)

Guys. Oh my god. Where do I even start. Maybe with just:

Little things I love about the demo

I am a sucker for character customization, and this game delivers that in spades. You can choose so many different things, from your appearance with a doll maker/picrew type thing, your gender and pronouns (with a BUNCH of customization), to what your bedroom looks like, to little stuff like what kind of drink you get at a restaurant. This was present in the first game too, Our Life: Beginnings and Always (OL:BA), but it's more in-depth here, and I love it. And I love that you can see your little avatar when your character speaks. I feel like it just flows so nicely, and it makes me wanna replay it with different characters. Of course, you also get many different dialogue choices, and there are so many choices to pick from. I LOVE it.

So, I absolutely adore OL:BA, and I love Cove with my whole entire heart. But man, inside of me there are two wolves: one of them is a Summer Disliker, and one of them is a rabid Autumn Pinterest Girlie. I ADORE fall, colourful leaves, mushrooms, rain, etc etc etc.

So seeing that Our Life: Now and Forever (OL:NF) takes place in a sleepy town in the AUTUMN?? With scenery like THIS???

I want to live here in real life.

The art style in general is just so beautiful. The colours, the softness of it all, the spritework, the cg art: everything is so stunning. The soundtrack is absolutely amazing too.

On a different note, the extent to which you can customize your relationships with Qui and Tamarack is so cool. You can go through a slow-burn romance, as neighbours to childhood friends to crushes to partners. You can have a cute love-at-first-sight childhood crushes story. You can avoid romance altogether and have a chosen-family dynamic. You can have a poly relationship and date both of them. Not ONLY that, but even the way that they interact with you can be customized;

That's so cool!! You can choose whether a character looks up to you or takes care of you, or whether they prefer to compliment you or tease you. And you can choose the same kind of thing when you interact with them in turn! A visual novel having this level of depth in a relationship is so awesome. The game will even remember things: like, if you react negatively to certain types of interactions, the characters can remember and act accordingly in the future. That's so cool!

I like that this story seems to be a little bit more serious than the last game. OL:BA has basically zero stakes, and very little serious conflict. That's not a bad thing at all, it's very much supposed to be a comfy, indulgent game. But OL:NF begins Step 2 by showing that the main characters have drifted apart as they've grown older. Not only is that nice realism, but it also adds both possible comfort potential (bringing your old friends back together and having good times) AND possible whump/angst potential (watching who used to be your best friends drift apart completely). The (optional) jealousy mechanic could also add to this. Obviously the game isn't finished yet and I could totally be off the mark, but even if this kind of thing doesn't end up happening, the fanfic potential is also there!

I really like how complex the characters are. Even as kids, they have wants and motivations and flaws, and they're so likeable. They change throughout the story, because not only are they growing up and older, but they have their own experiences and personal struggles. And speaking of characters:

Quick thoughts about Main Characters

> Tamarack Baumann

Oh my goodness. Ohg. Tammy. She is so so important to me. She is so sweet and supportive, and she's so pretty. Look at her. Oh my god I love her.

I absolutely adore Tamarack, and part of it is that I relate to her in a couple ways. I grew up as the insecure fat girl. I love frogs and toads. The cello is my favourite instrument, and I would love to learn to play one day. When she first said that she lived with her Omi and Opa, I literally gasped in real life, because I lived with my Omi and Opi for about a year, when I was her age.

> Qui "Autumn" Lin

QUI!!!!!! I love them so dearly, their mannerisms and the way they speak are so so endearing. They change a lot throughout the story, which is going to be so interesting to see. And they are ALSO so so pretty. Oh my god.

As a trans person myself who is definitely playing as a trans MC, I'm so curious to see the interactions with Qui, since they struggle with their own gender identity as well. Also, when they do figure out their identity in Step 3:

What??? That's so cool!!!

In which I get a little bit too personal:

This is probably tmi but I don't care. To make a very long story short, I had a really shitty traumatic childhood. Especially around ages 10-15. Even disregarding that, I was always a 'mature for my age' child, who followed all the rules and was terrified of ever stepping out of line. I never got the chance to be a normal kid.

So, getting the chance to go through this game, being able to experience growing up in such a beautiful area, with a supportive family and no trauma and friends that care about you. It's just. So nice.

-

Anyways. I'm gonna go now and make a bunch of OCs to play through the demo with and make different choices, because the hyperfixation is truly all-consuming

#our life now & forever #our life #olnf #ol:nf #olnf mc #olnf tamarack #qiu lin #tamarack baumann #gb patch games #theo rambles #long post #Youtube

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic...

~*~

1. hii for the next itmf do you have any recommendations for fics in which sizhui is wangxian biological son? any au or length is fine thx <3

you can have the best of me, baby by stiltonbasket (Not Rated, 9k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, Dual Cultivation, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Sunshot Campaign, Getting Together, a-yuan is wangxian’s baby, Happy Ending)

five years gone by quillifer (E, 14k, WangXian, Mpreg, a/b/o dynamics, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Breakup/makeup, Miscommunication, Pregnant Sex, consent is king, soft sad and horny, Happy Ending, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Unplanned Pregnancy)

🧡 Many Lan babies Series by LuckyMoonly (Varied, 414k, WIP, WangXian, Story collection, Mpreg, Pregnant WWX only, Family Fluff, Found Family, Kid fics) has several where A-Yuan is Wangxian's biological son

Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)

Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

My Pride and My Prejudices by Erbyrose, TitanPandora (T, 122k, WangXian, ZhuiYi, Father-Son Relationship, Canon Compliant, Misunderstandings, Bonding Over Dead Parents, Character Study, Sizhui calling WWX Mom, Family Drama, Survivor Guilt, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mpreg, Suicide Attempt, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Major Character Injury, Male Lactation, but it's not sexual, REALLY LONG CHAPTERS, Attempt at Humor)

Transcendent by AkatsukiShin (M, 162k, wangxian, fantasy au, demons, half-demon WWX, pining WWX, mpreg, childhood memories, angst w happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, mystery, action/adventure)

~*~

2. Hiiii! Lovely blog, you’re a godsend truly!! Anyways I was hoping that for the next itmf you’d rec some fics with identity shenanigans?

Like, it could be wwx in mxy’s body but only lwj knows so everyone else is all confused because ? Hanguanjun moved on form wwx? Impossible! Or maybe a fic where they mix it up a bit and it’s lwj that’s disguised or something like that! Basically a good old fashioned identity porn fic. Wangxian please! Thank you so muchhh

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

🧡 a paper friend by soft_wanning (G, 4k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Paperman!WWX, Identity Porn, Meet-Cute, Different First Meeting)

~*~

3. Hi! This is my first time doing this, sorry ^^. Itmf lwj kind of repeating his parents story, by marrying wxx and hiding him in cloud recesses (before he dies) and maybe putting himself in seclusion? The more angst the better, but preferably one where lwj isn't toxic, just really really worried. Idk if i should ask for more or less specific things, but thanks either way! I feel like I've read every fanfic like this (I've found like, 3) and I crave blood and tears. Thanks for the opportunity ^^

it's a webcomic and it's still ongoing, but House of Gentians by Pakhnokh on tumblr is amazing

~*~

4. Hi! First of all I want to thank you for your hard work, I have found so many great fics through this blog. <3 And now I’m in a mood for a (preferably) established relationship wangxian fic where WWX is the one taking care of LWJ. Maybe some hurt/comfort and protective/possessive WWX? That would be my jam if any fics come to your mind~

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (M, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Temporary Amnesia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Pining, Hair Washing, Hair Brushing, Hair Braiding, Soft WangXian, A lot of prose, wangxian are MARRIED and they have a SON, LWJ Needs a Hug, Sleepy Cuddles)

~*~

5. Hi! I was hit with the unexplainable need for some fics with ghost WWX who's searching for something (a family member or he's connected to one of his things and people don't realize it maybe), like looking for one of his siblings or for A-Yuan or one of the Wens and just like haunting everyone everywhere (or just one place), I don't know if there's even fics like that, there should cause it's a good plot in my humble opinion lol. Thank you mods! @jiangclaritybell

scatter and sunder by silversshadow (T, 15k, XuanLi, WangXian, Temporary Character Death, Canon Divergence)

💖 Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 15k, wangxian, canon divergence, grief/mourning, angst w happy ending)

asymptotic by chinxe (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Pining)

The Ghost of Lotus Pier by daiki (G, 3k, JL & WWX, JC & WWX, ghost WWX) Its ghost wwx but for me he is more guardian angel than ghost

~*~

6. If possible, could I also get fics with NMJ and NHS being involved in the płot or fics taking place in the Unclean Realm for one of the IITMFs? I dont wanna swamp you guys with request messages so I wanted to combine them, hope that is fine. (rest of ask in a FF)

1PB2PB3PB4 is a good author for NHS and NMJ-centric fics

~*~

7. Hello, I hope you're doing well. This request is for the IITMF.

Fic(s) where WWX is politically powerful in the cultivation world; but not as a sect leader. I mean

He's a sect heir;

Or a head disciple, but with power and authority of the same, not as how he was canon, with only responsibility but no authority.

Only canon era please.

Please only rec fics where he's a cultivator as I've read a few where he was a non-cultivator but politically powerful.

Thank you for your time 🌼🌼 @utxqia

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 64k, WIP, WRH & WWX, WangXian, WWX is a Wēn, Abuse, Whipping, Manipulations, Warning: WRH, Smart WWX, Possessive Behavior, Warning: JGS, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con)

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It, Lynchpin [PODFIC] by Opalsong, [PODFIC] Lynchpin by Gwogobo)

~*~

8. Hello everyone can you recommend wangxian or quartet time travel fic

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

does the requestor know about the time travel comp? that way I don't rec stuff on it already

How Much Love Has the Inch Long Grass by Vainwyrm (M, 12k, WIP, WangXian, ZhuiLingYi, XuanLi, Time Travel Fix-It, Permanent Injury, Disability, Canon Disabled Character, Physical Disability, Non-canon disabled character, Self-Worth Issues) if the requestor is okay with ‘triplet’ instead of ‘quartet’ then How Much Love Has the Inch Long Grass by Vainwyrm has a lot of interesting things going on in it for a time-travel AU

parent trap by tongzhi (T, 23k, JL & LJY & LSZ & OYZZ, wangxian, JYL/JZX, time travel, cloud recesses study arc, humor, matchmaking)

~*~

9. Do you know any fanfic where Lan Zhan is kind of rude to Wei Ying (or like, he rebukes all of WY's attempts to befriend him) only to end up regretting it when WY finally leaves him alone?

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, College/University, Modern: No Powers, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others, inter-faculty romance, strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers, mostly book characterisation)

Of Bunnies and Sleeves and All Happy Things by moonwaif (G, 3k, WangXian, two dorks, failed attempts at flirting, Lan Zhan is jealous, but he doesn't know it, unresolved romantic and sexual tension, Mutual Pining)

~*~

10. Hello! Idk if this is the way but I’m looking for fics where lz of the past time travels to the future and finds himself married to post canon wwx. I love those type of fics but I can’t seem to find them now :’(

An Arrow Through Time by syrus_jones (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Crack Treated Seriously, Time Travel, Reverse time travel, into the future, Potentially a Fix-it-fic?, Mistaken Identity, WWX is a Little Shit, POV LWJ, Angst, Gay Panic, Falling In Love Humor, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Post-Canon)

~*~

11. I’ve been playing “I say no” from heathers the musical on loop for a few Days now and now ITMF xiyao heathers-inspired? I hope someone knows one, thanks!

~*~

12. Hello! Itmf WWX being a badass swordsman? People being in awe of how well he fights: twining through enemies, sword flashing, people stopping in awe at his capabilities (like "oh, he isn't just a badass with talismans and dark energy, he was head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang for a reason!"). Thank you! (Bonus points: him wielding other cool weapons like daggers or a whip!)

A Glimpse of Past Glory by masked (T, 1k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Swordfighting, BAMF WWX)

~*~

13. Hi do you know any fics where Lan Xichen is called out for his hatred of Wwx because he thinks Wei Ying ruined both his and Wangji's life. Like it can be anyone calling him out, i just want to see him feel guilty about it.

When has silence saved anyone? by Vrishchika (T, 6k, WangXian, Post-Canon, LXC Critical, Gūsū Lán Sect, Not for LXC Fans, novel canon, Salt, Angry LWJ, Angry LSZ, Family Feels, WWX Protection Squad, LXC Gets Scolded, Based on Chapter 99 the Novel)

break by justdoityoufucker (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LXC Critical, JC Critical, Canonical Character Death, Guānyīn Temple Scene, BAMF WN, Protective WN)

💖After Truth Lies the Honest Path by Vrishchika (M, 10k, wangxian, canon divergence, truth serum, WIP)

aftereffect by justdoityoufucker (T, 3k, wangxian, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, post-canon, canon divergence, politics, LXC critical, JGY survives a bit longer)

Bitter Recompense by mondengel (M, 1k, LXC & LWJ, Angst)

Wasting Time, Asking Why by mondengel (Not Rated, 1k, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, WangXian, Angst, Character Study)

~*~

14. ITMF for something really intense and intimate. Like the fic is written so well and intense the you get overwhelmed. Preferably canonverse, but i don't mind otherwise. Please let it really be intense and intimate. @whateverweilanlovechild

Damn I wish The Roots Grow Riotous was still on ao3 for #14. Really intense and strange but beautiful with a hopeful but not typical ending. I have it if op wants to try but mind the tags. Modern au. The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart (E, 104k, wangxian, modern, fashion au, garment company, casual sex, group sex, implied/referenced cheating, switching, recreational drug use, angst w/ happy ending, single dad WWX, panic attacks, implied/referenced self-harm, grief/mourning, catharsis, body horror, floral horror)

Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 107k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, persuasion au, Separations, Mutual Pining, Depression, Miscommunication, Emotional Roller Coaster, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Eventual Smut, Jane Austen Fusion, Underage Kissing)

💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriages)

Vagabond by xantissa (E, 65k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Mystery, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Frottage, Case Fic, murders, Supernatural, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, extreme fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, badass!LXC, top!LWJ, Bottom!LWJ)

i don't love you (but i always will) by sixstepsaway (E, 71k, WangXian, XianQing, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate AU, wangxian endgame!!, handjobs, this ends wangxian and happy i promise, Angst with a Happy Ending, i had to give lwj an oc soulmate, Blanket Permission, Infidelity, Emotional Infidelity, Cheating, Pegging, Bottom!LWJ, top!WWX, Bottom!WWX, slight femdom!wq, Implied Consensual Somnophilia, Cockwarming, implications of consensual polyamory, undernegotiated polyamory, internalized ableism, Grief, Pining while fucking)

simple love | 簡單愛 by auberjing (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Strangers to Lovers, Caretaking, Angst and Feels, Grief/Mourning, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Nude Photos, Nude Modeling)

lotus flowers rising from the dark mud by nu_breed (E, 122k, WIP, WangXian, WWX/Others, MingXian, LWJ/Others, JGS/LWJ, JGS/WWX, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Courtesan WWX, Courtesan LWJ, Pining while fucking, Palace Intrigue, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex Work, Top/Bottom Versatile WangXian, Minor Original Character(s), Light Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Light Bondage, Hurt/Comfort, Warprize WWX, Period Typical Attitudes, Values Dissonance)

The Murder of Crows by cerbykerby (M, 101k, wangxian, slow burn, pining, yiling wei sect au, fluff & angst, dark, romance, WIP)

Turn Left by kianspo (M, 186k, WIP, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, eventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Neurodivergent LWJ, Slow Build, Lán Family Feels, specifically, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, lwj-centric, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YLLZ WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene (E, 42k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Ghosts, Suicide, Explicit Sexual Content, Attempted Sexual Assault, LWJ whump, Original Character Death(s))

crossed the world with these empty hands by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 166k, WangXian, Modern AU, Artists, Non-Linear Narrative, POV LWJ, Established Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Demisexual WWX, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Weddings, Separation Anxiety, Family Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Self-Worth Issues, Casual Sex, College/University, Temporary Long Distance Relationships, Relationship Pressures and Stresses, Insecurity)

The Vessel by Solmae (M, 54k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, Drama & Romance, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers)

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 74k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, musical cultivation, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, Happy Ending, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Worldbuilding, Módào Zǔshī & The Untamed Combination, No Yīn Iron, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Artist WWX, Musician WWX, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Angry WWX, Angst, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Idiots in Love)

every love story is a ghost story by aisthuu (M, 59k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Mixed Canon)

Alter by Solmae (E, 162k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Drama & Romance, Slow Burn, Rape/Non-con Elements, Gang Rape, Forced Prostitution, PTSD, Bottom LWJ, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture)

We can fix that by Spindoctor (E, 35k, WangXianJue, NMJ Lives, Arranged Marriage, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Caretaking, Light BDSM, Thigh jobs, Everyone Loves WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Starvation, Starvation recovery, PTSD, PTSD RECOVERY, Suicidal Ideation, Scars, Discussion of Surgery,mild body horror, discussion of starvation, body talk, cnc fantasies, Light Bondage, tender fucking, Slow Burn, JYL Lives, BAMF JYL, Erectile Dysfunction, Weight Gain, Chapter Specific Tags in Beginning Notes)

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy)

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror)

a small change Series by celialoveslwj (T, 92k, JC & WWX, Background WangXian, JC Centric, Angst, Sickfic, yunmeng trio, Canon Divergence, Break-off before Qiongqi Path incident, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Dealing with sickness, Golden Core Transfer Failure?, Bittersweet Ending, BAMF JYL, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Fix-It of Sorts)

~*~

15. Do you guys have a rec list for outsider point of view stories? People reacting to the nonsense WangXian get up to is always great fun!

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los (T, 2k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, case fic, competence kink, YLLZ WWX)

boom clap the sound of—Public Displays of Affection by Whispering_Sumire (E, 13k, wangxian, modern, reincarnation au, temporary character death, heartfelt conversations, crack treated seriously, outsider pov, accidental voyeurism, scheming NHS, redemption, angst & feels, family drama, panic attacks, hugging, crying, love, grief/mourning, hopeful ending)

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, [PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

Six in one hand by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 2k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Modern: No Powers, Crack Treated Seriously, Compulsory Heterosexuality, POV JC)

~*~

16. hey do you by any chance know ff where lwj is injured and wei ying gets in his protective husband mode? angst and gore would be preferred

silk threads and precious metal by Sevidri (M, 4k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Whump, Blood and Injury, WWX' Canonical Vengeful Streak, LWJ Makes A Beautiful Damsel in Distress, Non-Consensual Ribbon Touching, Protective wwx, Hurt LWJ)

~*~

17. Hi!! I'm in the mood for a fic where jgy is put through torture (preferably at the hands of jgs or jin-furen and preferably psycological) and tossed to either nmj or lxc (or both). @halfwizardprincess

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[needfantasticstories]

No need to post if you don’t want to, but wanted to say I really like this point. I’ve spent hours combing books and lore to try to get things right because you never know who will point out it’s wrong. For something that’s a hobby, that’s often too much work for casual fans/writers.

And personally, I like having my own takes on the character vs sticking to canon or the comic

I'll go ahead and preach to the choir, lol.

Your art has made me THINK. Has made me incorporate new ideas. It's been an absolute joy to watch you develop your Wing Bois AU and the thought behind the process and the JOY you're getting out of it is CONTAGIOUS and I feel like that's part of the fun, part of the point.

So yeah, I'll try and make sure I'm more considerate with tags, and once again MAD respect to all content makers and sharers. Let's PLAY!

More nonessential jabbering below the cut:

LU became more fun when I started to create my own fics rather than get mad about running out of ones to read. I learned fast that I have unusual tastes (specific flavors of angst) and that I wasn't alone, and that reading and collaborating with other authors is hella fun and teaches me a ton.

We all know how hard it is to "get into" this fandom. But that's supposed to be FUN, not a test. It's a million Easter Eggs we get to hunt. And we are SO SPOILED with a glut of content! It's AMAZING! (and with challenges like whump/fluff, or course there will be shorthand for characters and dumbing things down/glossing over and ignoring some dynamics and facts because we've only got a month and we need to write 28-31 fics! I only got halfway through)

I love squishy Hyrule as much as a good feral-enough-to-bite-a-man's-fingers-off Hyrule. Mine will eventually shove pottery shards into an enemies eyes when he's run out of other weapons, and then he'll cry in Legend's arms because I like it when he's both! And you can justify so much! Like what if he becomes squishy because he's gotten comfortable with having so many others who can help him chill for a change, and he discovers when he's relaxed for more than a few hours, for the first time, he is deep down kind of squishy and affectionate! Or that he hates it! It's fun to explore them. Each character version is a new dungeon to examine. Familiar isn't bad, nor is new. I love traumatized, I love not traumatized.

I'm guilty of having preferences, but heck, I've learned to embrace some of the angles I didn't like at first because I learned new details, or an author introduced a justification I could buy into and I loved it. I never would have shipped Rav and Legend, but I'm glad for all those who did so now I can enjoy MORE ships, depending on my mood or the direction of the story. And sometimes we make these boys a bit weaker than they are in their games because they're so stinking powerful, and we need them to question themselves.

#skip rambles #with such a big fandom comes a lot of opinions #just be kind #Can we steer this into a CREATOR APPRECIATION thing? #PLATONIC SMOOCH ON YOUR HEAD to all creators out there

[hollybell51]

ok i know you said requests are backlogged but i also read your sam winchester fic (oh my god???? so good!!!!!) and i noticed that you put dean on your tag list form and i am literally in love with him so if you get time could you do like a hurt/confort fic for him where the reader gets like seriously injured and tells him she loves him because she thinks she's dying and doesn't wanna die without saying it?

Anon you are in luck, the supernatural brainrot is still going strong. Also if you wanna be tagged in stuff make sure you submit responses to that form otherwise I don't know what usernames to put xx

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Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 5.8K

Summary: hunting a ghost that only seems to attack young women, you volunteer yourself as bait. The plan doesn't exactly go to plan, leading to some confessions being made.

Content: ANGST. Angst, besties. Hurt/comfort, mainly hurt but there is some comfort there, whump (sorta), mostly Dean's perspective but still second person narrative voice (loml), probably bad characterisation but I think it's passable???? Sam is like the no. 1 Dean/you shipper, A+ wingman. Badly written emotional vulnerability but I tried I promise. Kissing, first kisses, "I love you"s, bit of blood but not too explicit, hospitals, etc. etc. Dean is a warning on his own but yknow what I love him. I may have missed some stuff so please don't hesitate to catch me on it!

Notes: ft. my freaking awful titles lmaoooo. This isn't really set during any actual episode, but I'm sorta working off only having watched the first two seasons so just assume it takes place somewhere around then. Also the more I watch this the more I just wanna grab him and put him in my pocket or something, it's so bizarre. He's so pretty. I love his cockiness, I love the little eyebrow thing he does, I love the little jaw thing he does. Sorry if I messed up any lore or anything, writing this was a fever dream but tbh I had fun, it's nice to just sorta write you know? Thanks for the suggestion Anon

“Guys, can you hurry up?” 

Dean glanced over his shoulder, frantically sprinkling fuel over the exposed corpse below. He couldn’t see all that much in the darkness, but it didn’t exactly look like you had the upper hand. None of them had realised how big the ghost was until now, and with the machete it was currently slashing at you…

“Almost there!” Sam shouted, striking a match and casting it into the grave. The remains went up with a “whoomp!”, the ghost howled and stumbled back. It was difficult to really know what happened in those few moments as the light from the burning remains glinted off the metal of the machete and the ghost shimmered and began to disappear, but what was clear was that something had happened to you. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping your own weapon with a dull thud. You staggered, catching yourself on a headstone before your knees gave out and you sank to the ground. You were hunched over awkwardly, your shoulders heaving, hands clutched tight to your stomach. 

“(Y/N)?” Dean asked, frowning. Were you hurt? Just out of breath? 

“I’m alright,” you called. “Just… give me a second.” 

“Shit,” Sam muttered, dropping the salt and packet of matches and running towards you. “Dean!” he yelled as he knelt down, stripping off his jacket and balling it up, pressing it to your stomach. 

No, Dean thought. No, no, no, no. He was frozen, the can of fuel dangling limply from his fingers. He’d known using you as bait for a psychotic ghost murderer was a bad idea, even when you’d insisted that you’d be fine. It wasn't that he didn’t think you could handle it – he’d seen you in action enough times to know you were a force to be reckoned with – but he’d had a horrible feeling something was going to go wrong from the moment you’d laid out your plan. 

“He goes after girls, right?” You’d had an uncomfortable light in your eyes, all steely determination that Dean simultaneously loved and hated. Loved because, well, it was so you and it meant you were getting shit done, hated because more often than not you were putting yourself in danger. And yes, he was aware of the hypocrisy. 

He’d tried to talk you out of it, Sam had too. But once your mind was set – and set it was – no amount of convincing on anyone’s part could do anything about it. The second the idea had begun to form in your brain, the path was laid and there was no point trying to change that. 

“You better get over here man, quick!” Sam’s voice dropped, but wasn’t quiet enough that Dean couldn’t hear his next words, addressed to you. “Just hold on, Dean’s coming. Keep breathing, ok?” 

Fuck, that didn’t sound good. Dean’s limbs jerked back to life. He didn’t waste another second, sprinting the few metres through the forest of tombstones to where his brother was bent over you. 

“Don’t just stand there!” Sam yelled, one hand pressing his jacket to your stomach. “Help me!” 

It was like his body was moving on autopilot, kneeling beside you and taking over from Sam without any input from Dean himself. Dully, he noticed that there was already a warm, damp patch on the jacket, as well as a dark spot glistening darkly over your side. Shit. 

“I’ll be fine,” you’d insisted when he'd raised his doubts. “I’ve got you guys. You just burn the bones fast, I reckon I can hold him off for a few minutes.” Then you’d shrugged, grinning. “And if it all goes to hell, I know you’ve got my back.”

Yeah, fat lot of help they’d been. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

“He got me on his way out,” you laughed bitterly. “Can you believe that? Halfway gone and he just–” You broke off, making a vague slashing gesture with your free hand. “God, I’m an idiot.” 

“No, no you did fine. We shoulda been quicker.” Dean assured you, pressing harder. “Sorry,” he muttered as you let out a pained whimper.

“‘Salright,” you grimaced. “My fault. Dean, I gotta–” 

“Shh, no, it’s fine. It’s ok, you’ll be ok.” 

You shook your head, tears mixing with the sweat on your face. He watched one trace a path through the dirt caked on your skin. “It’s important, please.” 

He shook his head. “The only thing that’s important right now is keeping your eyes open, yeah? Just… just do that.” 

“I’m calling 911,” Sam said. “Just stay there, don’t move.” 

“I’m not planning on taking off, don’t worry.” You smiled tightly, then your face twisted in what Dean thought was fear, panic even. It was like a punch to his stomach, he hadn’t seen you look that scared since… Well, ever. Your hand fumbled over his, trying to find something to grab. 

“It’s alright,” he told you, pressing on the jacked one-handed as the fingers of the other one twined with your own. “It’s alright, (Y/N).” 

“No, no Dean, you have to burn me. Make sure you salt me, uh… Sage, use sage too.” 

He felt the blood drain from his face, cold rushing through him. “What?”

“Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone. You have to get rid of me, ok?” 

Oh God. Oh God. Dean looked up, searching frantically for Sam. He was watching you while he talked to the emergency operator, his fist pressed against his mouth and his hand shaking where he held the phone. He met Dean’s eyes, shaking his head. 

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone because you’re not going anywhere.” Dean’s voice was blessedly steady, despite the uncomfortable lump in his throat. 

“Promise me,” you whispered, then shouted when he didn’t respond. “Promise me, Dean!” 

He gripped your hand tighter, your own fingers digging harshly into his flesh. “I promise you will be ok,” he said. 

You sobbed, your body heaving under the rapidly dampening jacket. That was way too much blood for Dean’s liking, and judging by the increasing urgency of Sam’s quiet conversation on the phone, he felt the same. 

Your panicked gaze locked on Dean’s face, tears coursing down your cheeks. “I don’t wanna go,” you choked. “I didn’t tell you. I can’t go.” 

Didn’t tell him what? It didn’t matter. He squeezed your hand in what he hoped was a more reassuring than painful way. “It’s ok, you’re not going anywhere, alright? You’re staying right here, I’ve got you.” 

“You’ve gotta listen to me, Dean–” 

“No, tell me later. Just hold on, save your energy.” 

“Dean–” 

“(Y/N) hold on!” 

“Dean!” 

“Dean, listen to her.” Sam had finished on the phone, the screen shining eerily on his face. At Dean’s raised eyebrow he gave a tiny nod. Yeah, there was an ambulance on the way. 

“Sam, she is not gonna die.” He shook his head, turning back to you. “We’ve got all the time in the world, ok sweetheart?” He searched frantically for something to say, anything to keep your attention. He was no doctor, but he knew it would be bad if you passed out. Very bad. 

“Uh… fuck.” He broke off, floundering. What would keep you awake? What could he possibly say after you’d just made him promise to get rid of your spirit once you were dead, which was not going to happen.

“It’s actually not a bad night,” he started, already kicking himself mentally. “Bit of a breeze. I guess it’s sheltered down there, you’ve got a nice, uh, headstone blocking it. Ground’s not too bad either, not too hard. Glad it’s not gravel, my knees’re killing me.” 

A watery laugh clawed its way from you before another sob wracked your body. “Dean, I gotta tell you…” 

“Can you see the stars from down there?” he asked, cutting you off. “I bet they’re bright out here. No light pollution.” He grabbed your hand as your fingers loosened their grip, dread settling like a stone in his stomach. 

Your eyes wandered away from his face, sweeping over the space behind him. You nodded, but the haziness that had slid over your face didn’t do anything to help Dean’s panic, especially now that you weren’t holding his hand nearly as tightly as you had been. 

“Wait,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “Just focus on me, keep looking at me.” 

Your eyes swung back to his. “Please,” you whispered. “Please Dean, listen to me” 

Sam’s hand settled on his shoulder, large and heavy. He nodded to your face when Dean glanced at him, and to his horror he realised there were specks of blood on your lips. 

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t realised, but this was probably one of the worst moments of his life. He’d entirely ignored even the possibility of you being injured, let alone dying – just thinking the word felt wrong – since you’d joined him and Sam, doggedly refusing to acknowledge the near physical ache the idea of your absence caused. Now it was happening, right in front of him. Heat prickled behind his eyes. 

He took a deep breath, steadying his voice. “Yeah, alright sweetheart. You tell me, I’m listening.” 

Relief washed over your face. “I wanted to say it,” you whispered, “before. I didn’t want it like this.” 

“It’s ok. Sh, it’s ok.” 

Your body convulsed under his hand with another sob, more blood leaking from the corners of your mouth. “I love you,” you choked. “I love you so much. I don’t wanna get stuck because I never told you.” 

Oh. Oh. Dean’s mind went blank, then crashed right back into his skull. It was like swinging on a swing, at the peak of the arc where you floated a little before you started going down again. Yeah, that was his brain in that moment. Of course you’d have the guts to say it when he didn’t, even if it was out of fear of becoming an angry ghost. He cursed the universe and its cruel sense of humour. He faced horrors beyond most people’s imaginations almost every day, but still couldn’t say three simple words when he wanted to more than anything, and now you’d taken the first step for him and it was because you thought you were about to die. Someone up there must have hated his guts.  

“I know,” he said finally, nodding. “I know you do. Hold on, ok? There’s an ambulance, it’s gonna get here any minute” It wasn’t what he wanted to tell you, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make his mouth cooperate. 

You smiled, your grip on his hand all but nonexistent now. Your breathing was getting shallower by the second, your eyes unfocussed and no longer trained on his face. It was like now that you’d said your piece, you weren’t even trying to stay awake. He didn’t like to be too dramatic, but he was almost convinced that he was the one who’d been stabbed, not you. 

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), not you. Please, not you.” 

A wailing siren sounded in the distance, blue and red lights flashing rapidly brighter as the ambulance drew closer. 

“Just a few more minutes,” Sam said, pacing. His eyes never left your face. “Come on, (Y/N), any second now.” 

You were perfectly still, too still. Dean leant over, careful to keep applying pressure to your stomach as he listened for breath. The faintest hint of it brushed his cheek, not enough. He blinked hard, holding you against his chest, his face pressed into your hair. It still smelled like the cheap shampoo from the most recent motel, mixed with blood and dirt and sweat. It should have been disgusting, but to Dean it smelled so right. He wondered what that said about his lifestyle choices. 

“Please,” he whispered, his voice choked. “(Y/N)...” 

Your hand slipped from his, and it was like a damn breaking. He felt his shoulders jerk, something between a sob and a grunt torn from him. 

“I love you too,” he whispered, clinging so tightly to you he was half scared he was going to hurt you. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, (Y/N), I love you.” 

The siren was deafening as the ambulance skidded to a stop, Sam waving frantically to the paramedics swarming the graveyard. Someone pulled Dean back despite his protests. Cold stung his cheeks, the breeze from earlier having turned into a wind. It vaguely occurred to him that the reason it was so cold on his face was because he was crying. 

Everything was a blur as you were engulfed by uniformed paramedics, your limp form lifted onto a stretcher and born away into the vehicle. Someone tried to talk to him before Sam, uncannily put together and coherent, spoke to them and explained. There was a lot of nodding and “thankyou”s, then Dean was being loaded into the Impala like a little kid and Sam was driving like you were in the back seat instead of in the ambulance.  

All he was aware of at the hospital was Sam’s hand gripping his arm, muttering that he needed to pull it together “for her, man.” The harsh, clinical lights and the rush that everyone seemed to be in wasn’t helping Dean’s panic, every prone body he glimpsed taking on your face until he blinked and it was a complete stranger. What if the unthinkable really happened? What if you died, and he hadn’t been able to save you, keep you safe like you’d been so sure he would? What if you really did linger as a tormented spirit, what if he and Sam had to hunt you, get rid of you like you’d said? He didn’t know if he’d be able to do that. 

Finally, a serious looking man with a clipboard and a badge approached them. “Are you with the young woman–” he glanced at the clipboard, “(Y/N), who just came in?” 

“Yes,” Sam said quickly. “Yeah, how is she? Is she alright?” 

“She’s damn lucky someone put as much pressure as they did on that cut,” he sighed. “She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s stable.” 

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking. 

“Thankyou,” Sam smiled. “Thank you, doctor. When can we see her?” 

He frowned at the clipboard again, tapping his fingers on the plastic. “Well she’s unconscious, I daresay she will be for a while yet.” 

“Please,” Dean interrupted. “I– we just need to see her.” 

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You boys family?” 

“Brothers,” Sam lied at the same time as Dean said “husband.” 

“I’m her husband,” he went on, ignoring the little flip his stomach did. Somehow, the familiar lie felt different now that he’d told you how he felt, even if you hadn’t heard. “He’s my brother in law.” 

“Ok,” he shrugged, “but she won’t… Well, she was stabbed. There’s a lot of tubes, bandages, and she’s out cold. It might be…” He stopped, sighing. “Some people find it confronting, seeing their loved ones like this.” 

Dean felt Sam glance at him, but he ignored it. “Trust me,” he said with a tight smile, “I’ve seen worse.” 

He had not, as it turned out, seen worse. You were completely still apart from the gentle rise and fall of your chest, a thin cotton blanket pulled up and tucked in with clinical precision around your ribs. You had a little cut on your forehead that Dean hadn’t noticed at the graveyard. A drip trailed from the back of your hand to a cluster of bags suspended above you, a thin plastic tube wrapped around your head just under your nose. Oxygen, he assumed. If he ignored all that, you could have been sleeping. 

Sam pushed the door open softly, as if he was afraid he’d wake you up. Dean hesitated a moment, then followed him inside. Up close, he could see the light sheen of sweat on your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the pallor of your lips and cheeks. He reached out to touch you, maybe lay his hand on your forehead or smooth your hair away from your face, but drew his hand back at the last moment. He didn’t want to somehow unbalance you from whatever tightrope you were walking right now, even though he knew that was illogical. Still, even breathing the same air felt somehow dangerous for you. 

“Did she tell you?” he asked Sam eventually. 

“That she loves you?” He didn’t give Dean a chance to explain that he hadn’t meant that, that he’d been talking about your fear of not-quite-death. “She never said it outright, but I sort of worked it out, y’know? You guys weren’t really that subtle.” 

Dean frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Just…” He shrugged, gesturing vaguely between your prone form and Dean. “You’re always looking at her, when you think she can’t see you. She does the same. Always just sorta… doing little things for each other. And you’re always touching her, I don’t know if you realised.” 

“Huh. I didn’t.” It was true, although it didn’t really surprise him. He liked the little smile you gave him whenever he picked something up from a store for you – a favourite candy, something you’d mentioned you felt like – and he’d just assumed when you did similar things for him it was because you were, well, you. But now that he thought about it, he couldn’t name half as many times when you’d taken the same care and effort for Sam. Not that you’d neglected his brother, it was just… slightly less personal, less specially catered. He felt a surge of warmth for you, then a pang as his eyes landed again on your too-pale face. 

As for touching you, well, he wanted to. All the time. He wanted to put his hand on your shoulder, wrap his arms around your waist, hold you close and feel your heartbeat against his. Every brief half-hug or brush of your skin against his was something precious to him, so of course he’d want more. His mind flashed back to the tightness of your hand in his at the graveyard, the warm slick of your blood as you’d clung to him. Even that had been almost euphoric, past the raw terror and sickening dread. He was going to hold you like that again – under better circumstances – if it killed him. 

“Yeah,” Sam went on. “She’s the same, actually.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I remember this one time, Illinois, I think. We got a motel room with the longest couch you've ever seen. You sat down in the corner, and she comes and sits right next to you! When she’s got, like, another two metres of space to choose from.” 

Dean did remember that, actually. He remembered the rush he’d gotten as you’d squished up against his side, complaining that you were cold even though your skin had been warm to the touch. He still thought about it, sometimes. “Huh,” he said again. 

“Yeah.” It was silent apart from the beeping of your monitor and the normal hospital sounds outside the room, then Sam turned and faced him. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

Dean shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have let her put herself out there like that in the first place.” 

“No, I was supposed to have her back. I shouldn’t have taken so long with the salt.” 

He wasn’t wrong, Dean knew that, but it had been him who’d agreed to your plan. You’d put your faith in him just as much as you had in Sam, and he’d let you down. He hadn’t liked the whole thing from the start, but still he’d gone ahead with it. And now here you were, lying unconscious in a hospital bed, and Sam was beating himself up about it. It was all so wrong, and Dean could have stopped it so easily. But as he looked at you, he swore he could hear you snorting derisively at him, crossing your arms with a firm “bullshit!” 

“It’s my choice,” you’d say. “You’re really gonna try to steal my credit?”

“She’d call bullshit on you, you know,” he said. 

His brother shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, you too probably. She’d poke you, right here.” He reached around and stuck his finger firmly in the middle of Dean’s chest, right where you’d done countless times. 

Despite himself, Dean smiled. Then your drip beeped and he was jerked painfully back to the present, and the problem at hand. 

“Did you know she was so scared?” he asked. “Of, y’know…” Dying. Haunting someone. Getting stuck here, not being able to move on. 

Sam didn’t answer for a moment, then he sighed, still looking at you. “She mentioned it.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Why didn’t she tell me? 

“She didn’t want me to. She thought you’d think… I don’t know, that she wouldn’t be able to do the job. She really didn’t want you to know she was scared, she was so worried about what you thought of her. She said you were…” He swallowed, cleared his throat, continued. “She said you were never scared, and she didn’t want you to think she was. Even when I told her we were all terrified.” 

“Damn right,” Dean muttered. You’d done a great job at putting on such a brave front, he’d sometimes wondered if there was actually something wrong with you. Or maybe not wrong, but different. He’d never known anyone who could handle the things they did so well, not even his dad. It was something of a relief to know that there was more to it. 

“She was convinced she’d be the type of person to get stuck,” he continued. “Kept saying she wouldn’t be able to move on, that she had too much that she was holding onto and she didn’t know how to let go.” He finally raised his head, looking at Dean with what he thought was pity. Any other time, that would have annoyed him. 

“That’s why she said it,” he muttered, the uncomfortable lump back in his throat. When you woke up, he was going to give you a serious talk about timing. 

Sam nodded. 

“And she didn’t–” His voice broke, and he turned away. He wanted to punch something, put his fist through the wall or slam his hand down on the table, but he was too scared it would somehow disturb you. “I didn’t say it back.”

“Woah, hey.” Sam’s hand was firm on his shoulder, steadying him. “You did, man. You did.” 

“I was too late! She was out!” 

“Yeah, and you can tell her again when she wakes up.” 

“What if–” 

“No.” Sam shook his head firmly, fingers digging into Dean’s shoulder, anchoring him to the spot. “She’s waking up, and when she does you’re gonna ask her out on a proper date, she’s gonna say yes, and you’re gonna sort yourselves out like adults. Ok?” 

Dean looked away. The prospect of asking you out suddenly felt enormous. Of course he’d taken girls on dates before, he knew what he was doing, but that had been more along the lines of “I think you’re cute and you’re clearly into me, let’s get dinner and then we can hook up.” He’d never faced “I’ve been pining over you for months and I was too scared to do anything about it but you almost died and told me you loved me – love, not like – and I have no idea where this is gonna go but Sam’s right and asking you out is probably the best next step even if it’s absolutely terrifying”. He was a total mess, and he knew it. 

“Ok?” Sam asked again, insistent. 

“Ok,” he agreed. “Ok.” 

“Good.” 

You didn’t wake up until a day later. Well, that was according to the time and date displayed on the clock opposite your bed. Dean didn’t really have any recollection of time actually passing. 

He was slumped in the chair beside your bed, your hand held gently in his own as he dozed. He hadn’t let himself fully sleep since you’d been brought in, too afraid that something would happen while he was out, despite all Sam’s urging. Eventually he’d just sent his brother back to the motel, assuring him that he’d be fine on his own and that he wanted to be there for you when you came around. 

He jerked out of his half-nap when your fingers twitched, cursing when his pain stabbed through his neck. Snoozing in hospital chairs was never a good idea. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, frowning at the ceiling. 

Dean cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. “(Y/N)?” 

You turned, your face clearing when you saw him. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. “Dean,” you whispered. “What’re you doing here?” 

He shrugged, making to withdraw his hand, but your grip tightened. “I’m the ‘welcome back’ committee.” 

“Oh.” You nodded, smiling softly. You ran your free hand over the bandage circling your waist, studying the IV embedded in your skin. “We got him, didn’t we?” you asked. 

Right, the ghost. “Uh, yeah, he’s gone. Your plan worked,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

“It was a pretty good plan,” you grinned. 

He shook his head. “It almost got you killed.” 

“But it worked,” you insisted, your eyes shining. “He’s gone, Dean. Who knows how many people we saved?” 

“And what about you, huh?” 

You shrugged. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

He took a deep breath, bending his head so you wouldn’t see the moisture he was sure he could feel gathering in his eyes. How were you so casual about it? It had been your life on the line, you who’d gotten stabbed, who’d been bleeding out, terrified of not dying properly and becoming a ghost yourself. 

“Hey,” you said gently, your hand slipping from his, sliding up over his arm to rest hesitantly on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

“You almost died, (Y/N). Sam told me, what you said about getting stuck, being unable to move on.” 

You were silent for a moment, then you sighed. “Well it’s just awkward now that I’m still here.” 

Despite himself, Dean laughed. He raised his head, placing his hand over yours, rubbing his thumb in a circle over it. Your skin was warm as ever, dry to the touch. It was such a contrast from the graveyard, one he was glad of. You smiled, some of the colour already returning to your face. 

“I’ve always got your back,” he said, “no matter what. Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“I wanted to, I really wanted to. But I just… I don’t know, I just couldn’t. Every time I tried it was like this brick wall went up in my brain.” You shrugged, drawing your hand back as you shifted to sit more upright. Dean missed its warmth instantly. “You’re always so… unfazed, you know? It felt kinda stupid.” 

He snorted. Sure, Sam had already told him what you’d said, but it was different coming from you. 

You folded your arms, as if you’d just won an argument. “See?” 

“Shit, (Y/N),” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not – what’d you say? – unfazed. This shit gets to me too, I just…” He thought, unsure how to phrase it. “I didn’t wanna scare you,” he finally settled for. “Didn’t want you to worry.” 

“Oh.” You picked at a loose thread in the blanket, biting your lip. “And the other thing?” 

“Yeah, the other thing.” He’d known this was coming, he’d tried to find the words as he’d sat beside you, waiting for you to wake up. He’d almost had it, he told himself. How hard could it be, after all? 

“I didn’t wanna die with, like, unfinished business. That’s the main reason people stick around. It felt like if I didn’t get it out there, I wouldn’t ever be able to… keep going. Move on.” You swallowed, not meeting his eyes. “It’s ok,” you went on, “if you don’t, y’know, feel the same. I’d understand.” 

So you hadn’t heard him. Dean wasn’t surprised, but some part of him had been clinging to the hope that somehow his words had gotten through to you even as you were bundled into the back of the ambulance. 

He shook his head. “I just wish you’d said something before.” 

You looked up, hope chasing confusion across your face. “What?” 

“I wish you’d said something before,” he repeated. “It would’ve saved us both a lotta trouble.” 

“I don’t…” You frowned. “What’re you…?” 

He shrugged, his heart beating a million mph. “I love you too,” he said simply.

You blinked, opening your mouth to say something, closing it again. Slowly, a smile crept across your features. “Alright,” you grinned, way too smug for Dean’s liking. “Alright then.” 

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but the threat was empty and you both knew it. 

You shifted again, leaning towards him. “Come here,” you said softly. 

He stood, ignoring the ache in his back from the bloody uncomfortable chair. 

Impatiently, you beckoned him closer. 

He raised an eyebrow, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “Do I get to kiss you?” 

“That’s the goal, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, tilting your face against his hand. Dean wasn’t fond of the whole “butterflies in your stomach” thing, but he had no idea how else to describe the feeling that tiny gesture conjured. It really was like someone had released a swarm of the things inside him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. 

You were watching him expectantly, almost like you were challenging him. “Go on,” your eyes seemed to be saying, “try it.” 

He did. Your lips were softer than he’d expected, and just as warm as your hands. You made a sound somewhere in the realm of a sigh as his hand slid down to rest on your shoulder, pushing gently towards him, your own fingers running over his jaw to brush along the back of his neck. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long to kiss you, and now that he’d finally taken the plunge, he never wanted to stop. 

But he had to breathe, unfortunately, and so did you. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you whispered. You were still close enough that he could feel the words against his skin. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he replied. 

You laughed, a soft, breathy sound, and closed the tiny gap once more. “I love you,” you murmured between kisses, “and I’m sorry it took me almost dying to say it.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too.”

The door handle clicked, the hinges squealing. “Ok, so I ran into the doctor on the way in— woah.” 

Dean stood up so fast he almost overbalanced. 

Sam was standing in the doorway with a disposable coffee cup in each hand, his mouth hanging open as he stared from you to Dean and back again. 

You cleared your throat. “Hi, Sam.” 

He shut his mouth, shoving the cups into Dean’s hands as he crossed the room and bent to hug you with a muttered “thank God.” 

“Watch it,” you warned, “I’m injured.” But your arms snaked around his back anyway, your voice muffled as you pressed your face into his neck. 

“You’re never allowed to scare us like that again,” Sam said firmly. 

Your eyes found Dean’s over Sam’s shoulder, and you smiled. “I’m not really planning on it, don’t worry.” 

Sam just laughed. “How’re you feeling?” he asked when he finally let you go. 

“Ok,” you nodded, then frowned. “Hungry.” 

Sam glanced at Dean, who shrugged. He’d gotten bored some time in the morning, and the packet of pudding that had been left on your bedside table along with a bottle of water had been practically begging to be tasted. He’d wondered if you’d wake up before they brought a replacement, he’d even felt a little bad eating your food, but he was hungry, dammit, and when Sam had left he’d said he would come back “later” which meant “tonight”. And that was too long for Dean to wait. He also didn’t have any money on him, and wouldn’t have left your side for the cafeteria when the pudding was right there. 

“What?” you asked. 

“He ate the pudding they left you,” Sam said. Dean never should have mentioned it, but he’d been desperate to get Sam to bring him something and it had felt convincing over the phone.

Dean glared at his brother and the coffees – which were very noticeably not the fast food he’d had in mind. “You try living in that chair for a day, see how long you can go without.” Then he turned to you. “You didn’t miss much, don’t worry.” 

“Well, I’m hungry!” you protested, crossing your arms and looking for all the world like a petulant toddler. 

Sam’s words about asking you out echoed in his mind.

“I’ll buy you dinner,” he said. “At an actual restaurant, not a fast food place. As soon as they let you outta here, alright? In the meantime…” He reached for the bottle of water, handing it to you with an apologetic shrug. It was better than nothing. 

You wrinkled your nose at him. “This is a pretty shit first date.” 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. Then, on second thoughts, “It’s not a first date, Sam’s here.” 

“Geez,” Sam muttered, “sorry. And after I got you a coffee too.” 

“Did you get me one?” you asked hopefully. 

“No,” he said slowly. “But you can have mine if you want?” 

You sighed. “I don’t like it how you do. But thanks,” you added with a smile. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be awake.” 

“Have a little faith, Sam.” 

He smiled, glancing between you and Dean. 

“You owe me a coffee, and you owe me a dinner,” you continued before he could say anything. Dean thanked you silently. He didn’t really want a shovel talk from his own brother right now, which he could see Sam was just dying to dish out. He wondered if you’d be getting one. Probably, but he had no doubts that it would be less “shovel” more “talk”. 

“Soon as you’re fixed up,” he said. “I promise.” 

“And it’ll be a date?” 

“Sweetheart, it’ll be the best first date you’ve ever been on. Trust me.” 

You just grinned, ignoring Sam’s fake-disgusted sigh. “Ok.” 

#wow #i did it #go me i guess #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #dean x you #dean x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fem!reader #female reader #self insert fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #whump fic #angst #hurt/comfort #idiots in love #pining #mutual pining #friends to lovers #love confessions #dying love confessions #adding angst like americans add sugar #anyways enjoy

[whumptea]

I've seen a lot of people ask really politely if you'd mind explaining, in your mind, why one form of fictional depravity is more acceptable than another form of fictional depravity and I don't think I've seen you answer yet unless I just missed the post?

I mean does it just come down to sex = bad? I'm legitimately curious to understand the rationale here of whump enthusiasts who vehemently decry proshippers?

I'd love to see an answer to this question that isn't just sarcastic "Oh an anon is bullying me again" or just saying how bad proshippers are. I'd love to know the 'why' behind it all.

i deleted the post where i did explain because i was getting harassed by a bunch of 30 year olds and getting called a murderer and abuse apologist so here’s the tldr:

- absolutely nothing is comparable to proshipping and pedophilia and incest. absolutely nothing. those are two inexcusable crimes and you cannot compare anything to them.

- whump is a general umbrella term for any kind of angst. this includes sickfics, hurt/comfort, etc. nowhere does that have anything in common with shipping siblings together.

- proshippers write and promote things like pedophilia as if it is something cute and romantic, but if a whump writer writes about something of that nature they don’t portray it as such. they portray the trauma of it and how damaging it is on their characters instead of romanticizing it. that’s the biggest difference between the two to me.

#whump #whump blog #anti proship #anti proshipper #anti proshitter #anti profic

[lovefrombegonia]

THIS IS A HEADCANON:

I do not claim this to be canon at all. It's just a personal headcanon, bro. LOL

tw // references to childhood abuse, gore, torture

That Binghe vs Bingge extra did give me a PIDW scenario more bingge whump and qijiu angst:

Listen...I love badass, glorious, powerful cultivator Yue Qingyuan. I don't remember if it is canon or not if he is a serious threat to LBH and xin mo but I do like to think that he was the only cultivator capable of actually beating PIDW LBH, and LBH knew that. He knew YQY could rock his shit. He also hated YQY for enabling SQQ's gruesome abuse towards him. So, in his mind, YQY is like a corrupt, enabling sect leader who is also powerful enough to fight a pure-blooded heavenly demon like Tianlang jun while just being a disciple. He also knows that YQY, for some reason he decided isn't important to explore, really cares about SQQ. So, LBH decides to set a trap for YQY. He tears SQQ's legs off, tortures him into writing a letter, and decides 10,000 cursed arrows is enough to atleast seriously injure YQY, and then if he is somehow still alive, Xin Mo can take care of the rest.

Everything...goes as planned. ALmost. YQY rushes towards HHP to save SQQ in a maddening, suicidal rage. LBH cannot help but be a bit shocked at this vicious level of devotion this powerful, powerful sect leader has towards a scum like SQQ. He watches as YQY doesn't even really fight off all the arrows. It's like... it's like he really WANTS to be killed. It's like YQY is punishing himself. And yet, every tiny essence of life in YQY is trying its best to walk towards HHP. He will not stop until he dies. And...LBH can't help but laugh a little. A lot. Actually. 'This is the man you're willing to die for Sect Leader?!', LBH thinks, 'A scum who tortured his own disciples? A lecher who lusted after his own disciple? A filthy dog who killed how own shidi?? YOU WILL RIP YOURSELF APART FOR A WORTHLESS SCUM WHO NEVER EVEN RESPECTED YOU!! You're the dumbest human I have ever come across...'

He watches in awe as even pinned to the ground by several arrows, YQY is willing to tear him own flesh apart to try and move forward towards SQQ... One can't even recognise the esteemed CQMS leader anymore. He is two steps away from looking like a blob of flesh. As another round of hundreds of arrows rained on YQY, LBH watched the pathetic man turned to mush, and the magnificent Xuan Su vibrated wildly one last time before breaking into many pieces.

The sect leader was no more. LBH is a bit surprised at everything that just happened. His plan worked though. It's all that mattered. YQY was no longer a threat to him, and him empire. Now, he has to pay a visit to his shizun. He wanted to bring a piece of YQY's body to SQQ but the poisoned arrows had made sure nothing remained of him. Only the broken shards were left behind. He decided that Xuan Su would be a better "gift" anyways, after all, it was the symbol of YQY's might. The mighty that shielded SQQ for so long. It was the only thing that would matter to the scum, after all, SQQ did not really care about YQY. He insulted him every chance he got. With that thought, he went to the special prison. He couldn't wait to feel the rush of satisfaction as he imagines SQQ's face of horror.

'This...this is not...this is not right.', LBH thought as he watched SQQ's face froze in horror but...it's was a horror of different kind. 'He...should not be looking like that. Why is he looking like that!? Why is he...' and LBH couldn't clearly think for a moment. He was expecting SQQ to cry pathetically at a loss of a powerful backing. He wasn't expecting SQQ to have so many myriad of emotions...confusion, realization, shock, terror...guilt, sorrow...despair, HEARTBREAK, and then...madness. Submission. Submission of a man who has nothing to lose anymore. SQQ looked like... He was ready to die. No. No no no. This is not how it was supposed to be. NO!! SQQ SHOULD BE BEGGING FOR LBH TO SPARE HIM NOW! Crying and screaming instead of laughing hysterically like he was giving this mutilated piece of shit a funny stage show. “Luo Binghe, you’re a bastard, did you know that?”

He is still laughing. Still laughing but you can tell, Oh! You can tell that SQQ is in pain! LBH has ripped his left arm apart now and that pain is nothing compared to the agony that YQY's death has caused him. He is laughing, but his eyes already look dead, they look like they are already mourning! Already far away, only the body remains, trembling and seizing in pain to reach the departed soul.

“Luo Binghe, hahahaha…oh Luo Binghe, you…"

There is no satisfaction here. Because. Because... LBH looks on as he realises... This evil, abusive, traitorous, perverted scum of a man...was capable... Of love?? His shizun loved. He loved someone. SQQ...was capable of affection. Loving...truly loving someone so much. Loving someone so much so as to push him away. So... that's why YQY never tried to break SQQ out of prison. Loving someone enough to surrender himself to HHP so that YQY won't lose his status and honour by starting a sect war. Oh yes, YQY, was so ready to start a sect war for this scum...this... This scum who loved him. Something heavy, something unexplainably cruel and cold grips LBH's heart so tightly, he feels like if someone so much as pokes at him now, he will break apart. All SQQ ever did was torment everyone around him, spreading his miasma everywhere, and insulted YQY any chance he got...and YQY still loved SQQ all the same. SQQ was supposed to be a lecherous swine incapable of caring for anyone. He was supposed to be evil, and villainous to EVERYONE. A monster to EVERYONE. Because if he is a monster to EVERYONE then of course, he will be a monster to his own disciple, right? LBH found himself getting lost in these turbulent thoughts. He can't do that right now. No, not infront of SQQ.

'He is trying to provoke me into killing him. He will not have an easy way out like that.' thought LBH, as he told SQQ, in a calm, gentle voice, "You want to die? You can’t expect it to really be that easy. Shizun, after all the evil things you’ve done throughout your life, hurting those hostile towards you, hurting those with no malice whatsoever towards you, barely clinging to life and still able to throw a zhangmeng in with the lot—if you don’t die a little slowly, get a chance to suffer all the misery everyone else did, how else could you make it up to them?" After that, SQQ stopped laughing but his expression was unexpected. He looked almost...he looked like he understood. He looked like he was ready. For what? LBH didn't want to know anymore. Xuan Su felt heavier and heavier in his hand. It was no longer just a symbol of YQY's power. It was also a remainder of the genuine and unconditional love his shizun got from someone. He threw the damned sword at SQQ, walked away in a daze.

As he walked away, he couldn't help but think: why...? Why did this happen? If SQQ was always capable of loving then why couldn't he-- He was writhing in pain and heartbreak for YQY, a man who couldn't even protect him, who was so indecisive even at crucial moments, that he couldn't even rescue him from the water prison despite knowing he was capable of it!! Why mourn for the death of someone who failed to protect him when it mattered the most? Who didn't even really try, to be honest. YQY came here to die! Things started falling into places, and LBH hated this picture. Because the picture depicted a story he didn't even know he was a part of. A story of two people who didn't deserve the genuine and unconditional love and loyalty they gave to each other... And he played a side part. He hated himself for thinking this but he couldn't stop himself: if shizun was always capable of loving...why couldn't he love me back? It wasn't fair. IT WASN'T FAIR! IT'S NOT FAIR!! IT HURTS!! IT HURTS!! WHY?! WHY ME?! WHAT DID I DO WRONG?! What was my fault... WHY!!! LBH didn't even realise when he started crying.

#pidw luo binghe #pidw headcanon #luo bingge #svsss #pidw #shen jiu #original shen qingqiu #yue qingyuan #luo bingge whump #personal headcanon #headcanon #gore #child abuse #mentioned #blood #torture #mutilation #trigger warnings #trigger warning

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community. I’m Malice and I’ll be your host. 

Joining us today is the fabulous @ashintheairlikesnow!

It’s great to have you here, Ash! Let’s kick this interview off with a fact or two about yourself!

Hi! I go by Ash, I am an ageless elder crone, and my life is built around the whims of an old dog and a very young cat. My primary hobby is reading, and I especially get lost in books on cults and new religious movements, World War I, and vampires.

What does whump mean to you? 

To me, whump is physical, mental, and emotional suffering. What causes that suffering can be any one of a number of things, and any of them might be what fascinates about the story. 

But it's whump when someone hurts.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I had gone through a tumultuous few months in 2019, including being laid off. I was reading and writing in-between frantically applying and interviewing for new jobs, and somewhere in there I stumbled back onto Tumblr after a long… long… hiatus. 

In August of 2019 I did a fanfiction writing challenge and the prompt for day 11 was 'whump'. A friend of mine had to explain to me what the word even meant, which is when I realized there was a whole subgenre dedicated to my favorite thing to write! After that, I started following some blogs with whump in their name and shortly after, took a chance on posting some writing, too. 

2019 you say, and yet I would affectionately swear you’ve been around the whump community forever! Do you think  your view on whump changed since you joined? 

Definitely! I was more timid when it came to what I would or wouldn't write out in detail early on. Eventually I gained confidence and started including things that delved into full horror, where before I wasn't sure how it would be received. 

I think I have come to appreciate a ton of tropes that didn't really speak to me or that I struggled with at first! Finding certain writers that really did a great job with them helped me get over that.

ANd now for the best bit; Let’s talk whump tropes! Do you have a few particular faves?

Noncon and recovery from it - one of my favorite things about whump isn't even the harm but the way a character recovers from it, and noncon can be a violation of physical self, identity, everything. So I enjoy the noncon but also watching someone rebuild themself afterward. 

Trauma recovery - on a related note. Most of my stories really focus heavily not on the worst of times, but in what comes after. How do you find yourself again when everything about you was erased? Or beaten, or broken? Resilience is essential in my work. 

BBU - I started writing at the beginning of the BBU taking off in early 2020 - I think my first Kauri piece was written in January 2020 actually. I love world building and dystopian fiction, so I never stop finding new awful details about the BBU to bring to the light. 

Creepy/intimate whumpers - Whumpers that get under your skin without necessarily treading into noncon territory. Think like @comfy-whumpee's Alistair, a master of overwhelming, awful affection and the power of control. Or @for-the-love-of-angst's Zever, a father-figure to OC Taron turned captor. 

Shades of gray - whumpees who weren't the good guys, but who have been forced to struggle and suffer. I like writing, and reading, imperfect people who are trying to make themselves better than they've been, or bad people who have their reasons who run into someone they can't get away from. 

Hype time! Do you have a few pieces of your favourite work that you’d like to share?

This is so hard! Oh my gosh. I need to think about this. 

Haunted - a Kauri piece. The way this one delves into the emptiness of Kauri from someone else's perspective… there are some metaphors in here I am really proud of. 

Blood, Freely Given - a vampire walks into a hospital. God, I love when I get the chance to work in a more horror-centered space. This one is lyrical and I love it.

I’m Here - a boy remembers everything he was made to forget. This was maybe the most intense thing I've written. It is disjointed and chaotic and I adore it.

Oh my god! I am obsessed with Blood, Given Freely’s vibes! Creepy but somehow tugging at my emotions- damn! Do you have a particular writing routine?

My best writing happens in a coffeeshop with a pastry and a latte on hand! I almost always sit down and put on a playlist based on whichever story, then write out a whole piece on two or three hours. Then I spend a day or two editing and cleaning up, then post. 

I used to try to write once or twice a week. Lately that's fallen off to every other week or even less. Life gets busy! But I still write when the mood strikes me. 

And do you find somethings are easier for you to write than others?

I am so so so bad at writing fight scenes or action. It's like pulling teeth! On the other hand, I am pretty good at dialogue, I think. The different voices of different characters come to me fairly easily. 

Can we get a peek behind the curtains and see what your currently working on?

I am half-heartedly trying to get started on a novel that I keep going back and forth on, involving a man looking for a vampire in 1926 upstate New York. But not for the reasons you think.

Actually, maybe exactly for those reasons.

I am definitely enjoying writing horror more often. My OC Finn Schneider's story is pure nightmare fuel, and I find myself thinking about him a lot. 

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

When I was in high school, I decided to start telling bad jokes on purpose, as my "thing". To my credit, I kept it up for years. I had jokes I would tell at every party. They were all terrible.

I was surprised that people kept asking me to tell more.

Now I can't remember any of them. 

I mostly run screaming from puns. They are the real monsters here. 

Haha, puns seem to be very popular in the whump community, particularly in our urls! Would you care to share some writing advice with our readers?

My best advice has always been and will always be just to write often. Like any muscle, it gets stronger with exercise, like any skill you get better primarily through practice. Even if you doubt yourself, keep writing. You will look back and be shocked at how you improved even without realizing it over time. 

Try to set aside time to write. It doesn't have to be anything in particular, any one story. Write anything at all. 

Shout-out time for some of the wonderful people on here!

Oooooh it would be such a wildly long list. I will try! Okay, here are just a few:

@albino-whumpee who we recently lost created some incredible whump art from a very personal place. I miss them. 

@wildfaewhump @comfy-whumpee @whump-tr0pes @hackles-up @card-games-and-pain @whumpiary @sableflynn @redwingedwhump @whump-it @for-the-love-of-angst @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @winedark-whump @justplainwhump @just-horrible-things … gosh there are so many!

Finally, is there anything you'd like to add?

The whump community has been an incredible place to make my writing "home". I've met some pretty amazing people on this hellsite! May we all continue to enjoy the suffering of our silly little guys here together! 

Thank you for joining us, Ash. It was an absolute pleasure to have you on the show! 

And to all you fabulous folk at home, have a whump-derful day!

[hils79]

Hils Watches Misty Creed - Part 3

Ooh is it a scheme? I love it when they scheme

Okay, either Pangzi is in the process of getting possessed in which case SAVE HIM or he's faking to expose the old man as being evil

Love Xiaoge casually throwing Wu Xie across the room to get him out of harm's way

This is a fun fight sequence. Wu Xie is capable but is mostly defending himself and he's definitely not flipping around like Xiaoge

Ooh plot twist! The old man is the baby from the opening flashback. Didn't see that one coming.

Hey, I think Pangzi deserves a Golden Rooster for that performance. I was worried!

I am very much enjoying plot device not even present Xiao Hua

Ooh so this whole thing has been a trap for Xiaoge from the start. Love it. I mean not the trap but that it's actually tying into the DMBJ lore.

Noooooo! Pangzi needs saving! Again!

Pangzi gets to be the damsel in distress this time. Wu Xie and Xiaoge had better give him lots of kisses when this is over.

It wasn't magnets this time it was spores

When Xiaoge makes any sort of facial expression you know things are bad but when he looks angry things are REALLY bad. This dude is going to regret trying to sacrifice Pangzi

I legit just gasped. HAS XIAOGE FORGOTTEN THEM AGAIN??

I do like that Wu Xie doesn't even hesitate. Pangzi is in danger and even though that danger is from Xiaoge he attacks

This has very different vibes to the time Wu Xie was hallucinating and attacked Pangzi in Reboot.

OH SHIT XIAOGE STABBED HIM! Okay, anyone who knows me knows that I do not like Pangzi whump. He deserves love and hugs and blanket forts. That being said I am literally on the edge of my seat during this

Oh he's possessed! That's better than amnesia I think. Also, I am feeling some feelings about Pangzi lifting Xiaoge up off the ground like this despite having a hole in his shoulder and Xiaoge being super strong

Oh shit he sliced up Wu Xie too. I'm already having Ideas about writing the aftermath of this depending on what happens in the movie

Oh he's not possessed at all! It literally isn't Xiaoge. That's almost disappointing. There could have been some excellent 'I hurt my two husbands while I was possessed' angst

Lines like this is why I love this stupid franchise so much

The dynamite: is right there Wu Xie: runs past it and stabs the mushroom with a knife

Wu Xie grabbed the dynamite on a whim and Pangzi grabbed the detonator. Once again they are so married

Whaaaaat? Xiaoge was the the one who told the old man to sacrifice Xiaoge? Skin mask? Another Zhang who looks like Xiaoge? Actually Xiaoge and he then forgot? I have so many questions

!!!!!! BATHING TOGETHER JUST LIKE THEY DO IN THE NOVEL

Who is this dude who works for Xiao Hua? I want to know more about him

Nothing says sorry for nearly getting you all killed than a nice new sword for Xiaoge

Why is it not good?? So many questions!

I'm not going to be fooled again. There was a mid-credit sequence last time and I bet there's another one

A HAH!

Even more unanswered questions

OOOH the thing that started it is now going to continue it

I loved that. WAY better than the first one. This actually felt like a DMBJ movie not just any old action/adventure with characters that happen to be named after the Iron Triangle.

#hils watches #hils watches misty creed #hils watches movies #misty creed #dmbj

[charmwasjess]

hi! for the choose violence asks: 7 and 13

Hi you!!! Thanks for stopping by ❤️

7: the character I hate not because of canon but because of how fandom acts about them ...well, this is the violence game on the getting too personal website, so I'll get a little too violently personal.

Honestly, a big part of why I stopped writing fic and ultimately left the fandom for over a decade was that I started to hate Dooku. I felt so fed up with having to justify and explain writing him as a Good Master, as a steadfast Jedi, when it felt like the much more popular version was to write him as a grimdark asshole who mainly existed to give angst and whump to Padawan Qui-Gon. (At the time, a major blorbo.) And yes, I got that the guy ultimately becomes a villain, I loved me some Sith era badness fics, but there were so few people writing in pre-prequels era/Dooku's Jedi years as it was, and that idea felt really pervasive. I say "felt." It's funny, over the years I've wondered how accurate my perceptions even were: I had great, supportive friends and a small but wonderful handful of readers, and I was writing mainly in a community of people who cared about the character as much as I did. You know, who was this mean cabal of people who I thought were judging me for not writing him evil enough in his Jedi era?? Was that real, or did I just have that perception because I was an insecure teenager uncomfortable with my own writing and projecting on it?

Over the weekend, I got Boli's kind tag in the WIP Graveyard and I looked at my old account to see about maybe pulling a snippet from my one big WIP from that era. Kind of a cute throwback post. You know, "wanna read my writing from when I was a baby Jess?!" But reading it again made me so unhappy! Not because it was bad or because of not loving my younger self enough or whatever, but that tension in how I was writing Dooku, the way that I could tell how much I was frustrated with and agonizing between how I wanted to write him and how I felt I should write him. How "the good writers" were writing him. The inconsistency all over the page. That's sounds SO dramatic but you know, it was a big deal to me at the time, and I could remember hating that feeling.

I will say now I feel totally differently. Jedi-era Dooku being a categorically good guy or bad guy is missing the point. He isn't an idea I'm defending in an essay, he's a character, he has good days and bad days, triumphs and failures, times when he gets it and times when he totally wipes out. Flaws, loves, moments of valor and moments of ugliness, contradictions, humor, rare sweetness, and above all, the strangeness that makes me love the guy.

13. Worst blorbofication Have you SEEN me with Sifo-Dyas?! My friend, I have no room to be hurling stones about blorbos from my glass house, which is itself shaped like the tragic, yet beautiful figure of Sifo-Dyas.

But probably Obi-Wan. :D I genuinely love him, but just saying... Fandom king blorbo? Probably Obi-Wan.

#and let's be fair CANON Legends Jedi Dooku was a real asshole #he's an absolute walking miserable shit in that damn legacy of the Jedi book #thanks for the ask!!! #and thanks for letting me go kind of wide with my answer I've been thinking about this all weekend #sometimes really nice people who remember me from back when are like why do you not bring your old fics over to your new account #and I think this is what makes me sad about those stories? #it's probably not a coincidence that canon providing a few sympathetic Jedi-era Dooku stories was what got me back into the fandom

[carlyraejepsans]

Isn't it a trope in eldritch horror where the first signs of something wrong are nightmares? A lot of people like to take a eldritch horror approach to the whole player Vs game dichotomy of undertale so I'm not surprised that people carried that trope over. Now whether that trope is handled well in most cases is another subject. Personally I'm favourable towards it but I understand why it may turn some people off.

oh that's definitely part of it, i agree. mix in a bit of "pick and choose from the DSM-5 for symptoms of depression" + angst for angst sake for everyone's favorite whump victim and you're good to go XD.

i think over all I don't really care for it for sans specifically as a character. more so because it would add SO much more to papyrus' character instead. it even works with him sleeping so little and how he hates resting!

#papyrus chronic nightmare sufferer hc my belovedddd #answered asks #undertale #sans #papyrus

[whumpcloud]

Hi! I know you’re probably crazy busy with stuff but I’ve been really wanting to see some more content of Peter and Elio? Maybe some angst, maybe some fluff, maybe both? (If there’s any reason you don’t want to that’s totally cool just disregard this, I love your work btw!)

dw!! i'm always happy to take requests <3 this got way longer than i was intending asfdfsd

content: (institutionalised) pet whump, dehumanisation, carewhumper, manhandling, hangovers, brief discussion of seizures and mental health issues, references to shock collars

"Sir, I made you some tea," Peter says quietly, so as not to aggravate Elio's hangover.

Elio groans into his pillow in reply. Peter gently sets the mug down on the nightstand, and makes to leave.

There's a sudden snapping sound, and Peter turns sharply to see Elio clicking his fingers at him.

"What is it, Sir?" Peter asks politely.

"Um... thank you," Elio mumbles, his voice strained, like that was difficult for him.

Peter pauses for a moment, then his face lights up in a wide smile. "Y-You're welcome, Sir!"

Sir said thank you!

That means he meant it when he said he'd try, he really meant it! Peter has a skip in his step as he goes back to the kitchen to finish cleaning.

Elio is finally up in the evening, messy hair and slept-in clothes. Peter greets him with a grin.

"Good evening, Sir!" Peter says.

"...you're cheery," Elio mumbles, sighing and sitting himself on the sofa. "God..."

"Does your head still hurt?" Peter asks.

"No, I just feel... eugh."

"...helpful!" Peter says, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "How about we do something less... eugh?"

"I don't feel like it," Elio replies, closing his eyes again.

"What if we went out?" Peter suggests. "The fresh air might help you feel less sick."

"I said I don't feel like it."

Peter hesitates. He shouldn't ask, he really shouldn't, but Sir said thank you and everything today, so maybe he's in a good enough mood.

"...I'd feel better if we went out, Sir," Peter says tentatively. "Just for a walk. Please? I'll stay quiet and by your side the entire time."

Elio opens his eyes and gazes vaguely at Peter. "You can go without me."

Peter immediately shakes his head. "There's no reason for me to do that, Sir. I shouldn't be away from you if I can help it."

"You're so annoying," Elio grumbles, then catches himself. He can't say he didn't mean it, though. "Sorry. Really, Pete, it's fine. You can just go."

"But it would be good for you too," Peter insists, and Elio realises that, as always, this is a losing battle.

So he forces himself up and into some shoes and a coat, and Peter borrows the coat that hangs off his body the least.

"Can you take the collar off, at least?" Elio asks. "It's embarrassing."

"My... my collar?" Peter grips it without seeming to think about it.

"...nevermind," Elio sighs, seeing the hurt in Peter's eyes, and just zips up Peter's jacket so that it's hidden. "There. That'll do."

"Why is my collar embarrassing?" Peter asks in a small voice, as he follows Elio to the door.

"It just is!" Elio snaps, irritated. "Come on."

Peter doesn't push the issue. After all, Sir could still decide he isn't allowed to go out.

Elio is huffing about this whole thing like a teenager, because he hates to admit that Peter was right. The fresh air is making it easier for him to think, and the faint smell of rain in the air is oddly comforting. Peter is following slightly behind, and every time Elio turns to look at him, he's looking around as though his head is on a swivel.

"Pete, what the hell are you doing?" Elio asks.

Peter jumps. "Just... watching out."

"For what?"

"Anything."

"Is that something you did with your Master?" The word still feels gross in Elio's mouth.

"...no," Peter replies. "Master and I didn't ever go out. Except when he took me to work."

"What, was he a shut-in or something?" Elio slows his pace so that he's walking beside Peter instead of in front of him, and grabs his arm when he tries to move back. "Stay there."

"Y-Yes, Sir," Peter nods. "Um. Master was agoraphobic. He thought that it would be easier to go out when he was with me, but we only tried once, and he had a seizure, so we didn't go out again."

"Oh. Damn." Elio doesn't have much else to offer than that. Should he say something reassuring? "Uh... I mean, we can go out. If that's something you want to do more. I don't have a problem like that."

"Only if you want to, Sir," Peter says quietly.

He wishes Sir hadn't brought up Master. It's gotten easier to stop thinking about him, to stop thinking of himself as Darling, but every so often something makes it come flooding back and it becomes raw all over again. But Sir can't know that. Sir will only get annoyed, or think he's defective, and he only just got Sir to be kind to him. So he should keep his mouth shut.

"Maybe we should go back now, Sir?" Peter says, smiling weakly.

"Nah," Elio replies. "I could go a little longer."

"...alright, Sir."

But you didn't want to go! I had to push you, like I always push you, and I'm not being clear but you can't be so dense that you don't see that I'm really just asking for myself because I want-

Peter jerks, his body feeling phantom shocks. It's selfish to want. Selfish, stupid-

"Bad Pet," Peter mumbles.

Elio turns sharply. "Pete? Something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Sir," Peter says, but of course he does.

"...you're not a bad Pet," Elio tries. "You're really not."

Peter only nods.

With a quiet sigh, Elio puts a hand on Peter's shoulder and pulls him so that they're facing. "Pete. Do you wanna go home?"

Peter's lip trembles, but he shakes his head.

"I..." Come on, Elio! "Okay. If we went home now, would you feel better?"

Peter's nod is small and slight, but it's there.

"Okay," Elio says, almost softly. "Then we'll go."

Elio lets go of Peter and starts walking. Peter follows behind. He wants to say how grateful he is, but he can't find the words. He just walks, and the moment he's inside he rushes to his room and pulls the blankets over his head.

Going outside is too much. There's a reason why he never did. He doesn't know why he wanted-

He tenses, still expecting a shock that never comes. He didn't want.

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#asks #polly's prose #delicate #peter (darling) #elio zagata #whump #whump writing