#1st person pov

[astarioffsimpmain]

I'm sick, I feel terrible, and I'm having Halsin thoughts.

This is self indulgent, don't look at me.

○ I want to curl up against this man's chest and purr like a cat. I feel like death warmed over so maybe, just maybe, being so close to his strong and consistent heartbeat will make me feel a little bit closer to life

○ I just know he'd play with my hair, even just absent-mindedly. Braid it, un-braid it, braid it again, run his fingers through it, pet it (I'm gonna purr again, just you wait), etc. Honestly, if Halsin playing with my hair for hours didn't put me to sleep, I don't DESERVE to sleep

○ He'd find healing herbs to reduce my symptoms and help me get through my sickness a little easier. "Here you are, my heart. Do not drink it quickly, the effects will last much longer if you sip. Good, my dove."

○ If I felt a little better one day, he'd convince me to take a walk with him in the woods because "nature can heal all ailments." But he'd feel guilty for taking me out so soon when, by nightfall, I was wheezing again, my head aching so badly I couldn't keep my eyes open. "It's alright," I'd tell him. "Nature is just taking its time with me." He would still feel responsible, but he would know I didn't blame him, and that would ease his mind

○ In the evenings, he would insist on cradling me to his chest as he slipped into trance, not wanting to delve too deep and possibly miss something I might need upon waking. I would try to tell him I'd be alright for a few hours without monitoring, but he wouldn't have it, gathering me up against his bare chest. I wouldn't complain either, curling closer to his warmth as his strong arms surrounded me and protected me

○ When the fever struck and no amount of layers could warm me, he would wildshape into a bear and wrap his furry body around me like a living heated blanket, and only then would the ice in my bones abate enough to stop shivering and rest. When he sensed that my fever had broken, and I had started sweating into his fur, he would nudge me gently with his snout until I awoke, then would transform back into an Elf to pat down my glistening skin with a cloth

○ Once I showed improvement over the course of several days, we would step outside once again. I'd be able to tell how much he'd missed being amongst the trees, and I'd feel guilty for keeping him from it. But he would see it in my eyes and admonish me tenderly. "I chose to be beside you, my heart, and I do not regret it. Nature will always be there when I return, but I may not always be lucky enough to have your beautiful eyes looking upon me. I cherish every moment that they are."

○ I would promise him quietly, later on that evening when all was quiet and still, and we were wrapped up in each other with myself on the mend, that I would always do the same for him should anything - even something as seemingly trivial as a cold - should ever befall him. He would hum against the flushed skin of my chest and pull me closer, his lips pressing his answer straight into my heart.

[1000roughdrafts]

Fic request!: Dean and Reader have been engaged for a long time and are waiting for the perfect time to finally get married. On what should have been an easy hunt with the brothers and Cas, reader is mortally wounded and in their last moments together, Cas marries them (I mean, angels should have that authority right? lol) as Reader dies in Dean's arms?

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: slight violence, dying!reader, blood, slight gore, angst

Dean X FemReader

We round the corner of an abandoned building, and not even this fierce wind could break the dark, thick fog of tension that sits among the three of us. Neither I nor the Winchesters have a clue what we're up against, or if they do, they haven't filled me in. I just know it's demonic and killing innocent people.

We haven't exactly been getting along lately, and if not for the danger that constantly looms around us, I'd have made a joke to Dean about acting like a married couple before we could even tie the knot. But the worst part about the frustration that we feel is the impulsivity that comes with it. The pissing contest of heading into hunts we know we're not prepared for, but are too damn prideful to say so. And somehow the anger leads us to believe we're stronger than we actually are.

I want to convince them to turn around and leave, but I realize that it's too late when Dean kicks down the door, his gun aiming every which way before his foot could even land back on the ground. Leaves rustle under Sam's quick steps as he follows behind Dean like a dutiful soldier. I'm told to stay close, but I'm immediately distracted by the smell of something rotting and the graffiti on the wilting walls. There are words like 'kill', 'die' and 'run' written in red and the hair on the back of my neck stands.

“Y/N!" Dean quietly shouts.

I jolt to look in his direction. He motions with furrowed brows and two fingers for me to move in, and I reflexively roll my eyes. I realize I'd been absentmindedly twisting my engagement ring around my finger.

We shouldn't be here. I know it, so why don't they? Or do they and they just don't care? I stare at Sam internally begging him to turn my way, for him to see the fear in my eyes and help me convince Dean that we should leave, tell him that something just doesn't feel right, but when he does look my way he only shoots a sympathetic smile. I roll my eyes again.

Anxiety clouds me. My chest feels tight, and air feels thin. My vision gets blurry, and I can feel the anger inside of me trying to claw it's way to the top, but all the while I can feel myself weaken, my guard down. I carry on, walking towards where the brothers are and I can smell my threat before I see it. Sulfur. I quickly turn to attack, but feel a piercingly sharp pain in my side.

With a yelp, I instinctively place my hand over the area that burns to hold pressure on it, but it scares me how wet my hand feels, and when I pull my it up I can see that it's drenched in blood.

I manage to croak out Dean's name before I fall to my knees, collapsing on the ground. The last thing I see before my world goes black is Dean kneeling down next to me, repeatedly and terrifyingly shouting my name as Sam fights off whatever it was that attacked me.

Laughter echoed in the halls of the bunker as Dean chased after me. We ended the game in our room, and trapped between Dean and the wall I had no choice but to succumb to him. Roping me in his arms, he tickled me until I begged through tears and a smile to be let go.

When I could catch my breath, my eyes met his gaze, and the whole world stopped around me. I took a few steps back to drop onto the bed, watching Dean as he plopped down next to me. I felt warmth throughout my entire body as he leaned to kiss me.

I could just explode I was so overwhelmed with love for him and for this moment, that when he pulled away I couldn't control my voice. "Marry me, Winchester." And my eyes widened when he quickly sat up.

He propped himself up on his arm, "what?" he said with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm serious, Dean," I chuckled, sitting up to turn my body towards him. I placed my hand on his leg, feeling him relax under it, "I have never felt the way that I do about you, for anyone. We have no idea when our last days are going to be, and in this line of work it could be tomorrow for all we know. I can't bear the thought of dying without you as my husband."

---

I hear my name in Dean's voice from a distance, but I'm surrounded by total darkness. I try so hard with all of my might to tell him I'm here, that it's okay, but the words don't come. It takes all of my strength to open my eyes, but they burn. Everything burns. I don't even try to suppress the scream that bellows out of me.

Taking as deep of a breath as I can, I'm scared for myself when it sounds and feels like I'm breathing a water and air mixture. "What's happening?" I manage to say, but Dean puts a finger to my lips.

"No, no," he soothes, "no, don't talk. It's okay," he says so gently, and as he maneuvers me into his lap I cry out in agonizing pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, then his voice switches into a shaky, fear filled command at Sam to call 911 followed by a yell for Castiel that hurts my heart almost as much as my wound hurts.

I feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness, but I'm brought back every time by Dean shaking my body in his arms, "hey, no! Stay with me, Y/N!" I feel his arms twitch around me, and I know he's frantically trying to figure out his next move. "Hey, stay with me," he pleads.

"Maybe we should get her talking," Sam's voice suggests from the other side of me. I keep my eyes shut. "So we know she's still here," he says.

Dean's hot breath hits my face as he lets out a heavy sigh, and I sway with him in his arms as he shakes his head no.

"Cas! Finally," Dean's voice is excited, but hesitant as Cas remains quiet. "Cas! Heal her!" Dean grunts, and what follows is more silence. "Cas!"

"Dean, you know I can't do that," Cas says somberly, a cold brush of air hitting me as Cas walks over to our side.

"Why the hell not?" Dean shouts with enough force to rattle me in his arms. I grunt from the jolt of pain it sends through my body, but he ignores me.

"I'm limited on my powers," Cas whispers. “Heaven, they-“ but he’s cut off by a scoff from Dean.

I feel myself weaken more and more with every second that they bicker around me, and I don't even have the strength to contest it. They're voices grow distant, and my muscles relax as I'm brought back to unconsciousness.

"I know you're not the marrying type, Dean, but-" I said, losing confidence in myself, and as if he realized this, Dean quickly straightened himself out to hold his palms up at me.

"No, no, it's not that. I'm just... I'm just a little surprised is all." Without letting me respond, he walks to his dresser and the drawer creaks as he opens it, the smell of old wood filled my nose as he rummaged around in it.

He turned to face me, and in his hands was a small, black box. His eyes softened, and he knelt down to one knee, "Y/N, I have been wanting to ask you this, maybe since the day we met," he chuckled. "And I had a whole speech prepared, but I think you got me beat," he laughed again, "and left me nearly speechless. So, Y/N, yes, I will marry you," he said.

--

The terrified shouts of the men around me brings me back to them, and thank God for that. My eyes still burn, and I clench them even tighter, forcing a tear I didn't know was there down and over the bridge of my nose.

I try to clear my throat to speak, but it's like it gets caught on something, and I cough to get it out. Dean quickly raises me up to a sitting position, which is excruciatingly painful.

"Y/N," Dean's voice shakes.

I take a few deep breaths in to clear my airway, and fight to open my eyes. They only open to a squint, but I take what I can get. I glance at Sam, then Cas who keep their eyes on the floor in front of them. My head tilts back as I look up at Dean. His eyes are trained to mine, his eyebrows pressed tightly together, as are his lips.

"Marry me, Winchester," I squeak, and I can see his face instantly relax.

"What?" he says, then the corners of his lips curl down. He nods gently and the tears he had been holding back come pouring down. He looks up at Cas, who immediately understand and kneels down next to us.

"Allow me," he offers, placing his hand under my cold fingers, and his other on Dean's shoulder. "Y/N, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony," Cas begins, and my lips quiver at the words 'live together' because it finally hits me that this is the end of that.

Cas continues, voice a little louder to overshadow the sobs that break through Dean's chest. "To love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"And even longer," I say, my eyes, even blurry, moving to Dean's in time to see tears slip down his cheek.

Cas turns his attention to my other half, "Dean, do you take-"

"I do," Dean eagerly states when he notices my breathing has slowed exponentially. "Skip to the end," Dean pleads.

"By the virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the Lord, I now pronounce you husband and wife". Cas sucks in a breath, and lets it out slowly. "You may kiss the bride."

Dean brings me closer to him, and his lips are hot and quivering against mine. I pucker to kiss him, but I know my lips don't move by the way his press deeper into mine to accommodate it. My breaths are even slower now, and I can feel myself slipping away again, no matter how hard I try to fight it.

I draw in a long, cold breath, trying to hold on as long as I can. "I love you, Dean," I say and as the breath escapes me, so does my light.

"I love you, t-"

----

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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Dean <3

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[yurizinmaster]

Man Of medan Ship 💖

Charlie/Joe = Chorlie? jarlie?

Joe p.o.v

My Life Never Seems So Interesting, The Only Thing That Really Made Me Happy Was My Son,but looking at you now i feel something besides friendship i feel my heart beating faster every time i see you i know i shouldn't feel this i know its wrong but i'll make it worth it,Even if you don't know it, but we are destined to always be together no matter where,Sometimes I feel like you've cast a spell on me Even if it doesn't make sense, I just want you to fall Under my Spells...

Fuck, look at the situation I'm in, sometimes I look at you and think "You're too perfect to exist" I allowed myself to fall into temptation, You, Only you, Nobody else, The only thing I want is To be alone with you,Your hair, Your smile It's the only thing I Want and I can't stop thinking about how I want you in my life

"Charlie Anderson" is a name I will never forget.... I know you don't know me But I just want you to know that I love you more than anything (almost anything) You are the only thing keeping me alive

"hello how are you man? My heart raced so fast When you looked into my eyes and said With your pretty lips...Your eyes are so beautiful, your hair I never thought this would happen If this is really a dream I hope I never wake up...

If I had a reason to live, now I have a hundred! and now i know that it's okay, i'll do anything for you to like me,Hearing your voice is the only thing that keeps me from going crazy here...

But even if I have it, with you here I don't need anything else,"You know Roberts you are a great Colleague Want to be my friend?" What could I say? "but of course! why not?"

I took a picture of you, It was so worth doing this, It was worth every moment With you It was worth coming here after all..

”nothing else matters but the fact that you are my destiny”

Today was the best day of my life, The night was so starry and bright That sometimes I even feel jealous, Even though the drink has already had an effect on you but hearing you say "I love you" was the best thing i had ever heard in my whole life

I could have just swallowed it and kept drinking but I said just what I always wanted to say "I love you too Charlie Anderson"

Could have stopped there, he smiled back at me as his eyes slowly closed from the alcoholism.your smile always makes me think "fuck if i had to choose between heaven and hell i would choose you"

Watching him put his head in his arms and then bending down to the table, sometimes I wonder why I didn't go talk to you sooner we could be here longer,"I finally got what I wanted from the start, to be alone with you,I have to make it last longer!"

"if I took you somewhere else far from here?"

It's gonna be alright Anyway, You'll be with me and that's all you need,"you don't have to worry nobody will interfere, i'll never let my love for you Die"

"I will love you forever"

"even if we die, i'll find you, we're chosen, it's inevitable"

That's why this was the best night ever,"There are no Barriers to Love"

"Sometimes a happy ending is good among So many broken hearts Don't you agree?"

____________________________________________

Song References - 🎵

infinity - Jaymes young🎵

melting - kali uchis 🎵

Only Love can hurt like This - Paloma Faith 🎵

____________________________________________

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 25: Brace Yourself

A/N: Featuring my character Gathin Holloway, the MC in Sword of the Half-Human.

CW: bleeding, blood, vampirism, monster whumper

Each breath brought pain, burning in my chest with each inhale, but the creature had only fallen back, and I had seconds before it attacked again.

Brace yourself, master, came the sword’s warning in my head.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, adjusting my stance in the snow. I felt breathless, weakened, and her words only served to remind me how wounded I already was.

I would rather not have to bleed out for the sword to do her work.

The creature wheeled around and faced me again, eyes glowing in the darkness, claws digging wild grooves in the layer of white. My blade was ready; it caught the creature across its hideous neck as it leapt on me, cutting a deep swathe that immediately bleed black. With a horrible, screeching cry it reeled backward, blood arching through the air, to fall in its side, where it writhed and shuddered with the same horrific screeching.

Now I really did brace myself, panting and silently begging my body not to fail me. My own blood was seeping darkly from the jagged lacerations the creature’s claws had inflicted on my chest. The sword remained silent as together we watched the monster convulse itself to death, its blood spattered across the snow.

“It’s time,” I said aloud, my voice oddly muffled in the cold and ice. “You can drink now. But be quick, because I can’t stand up much longer.”

I’ll only be a moment.

The ravenous force I had come to know so well shimmered like heat against the blackness. The monster’s blood rose spiraling from the snow, pulled toward the blade and vanishing into it as she drank.

And then she stopped. For a moment, everything fell deathly silent.

Master, something…something is wrong.

I felt it: a quaking, shattering wrongness uncurling from deep inside me. From deep inside…her.

The creature’s blood…poison…changing me…please, master, you have to—

A wild cry, echoing the monster’s dying wail. The blade wrenched herself from my grip, throwing me off-balance. I dropped to my knees, stunned and speechless, still bleeding.

Then my own horror began to unfold.

@forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumping-to-conclusions @whumping-out-of-time

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 95: Dehumanization 

TWs in the tags

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The last day I was human was just like any other day.

I hunted with my tribe, played with my friends, and went to bed with everyone else when the sun went down. It was a perfectly normal day, until I was woken up by harsh hands yanking me out of bed and covering my mouth to muffle my shouts.

They forced a part of a pelt into my mouth. The taste was awful, but I couldn't spit it out no matter how hard I tried. When I remember the last day I was human, that awful taste is the first thing I think of.

They stuffed my ears with dirt. It was painful, and I could feel things crawling deeper into my ears.

They blindfolded me with another pelt. It made my nose itch.

They tied my hands and feet together. It hurt.

I was moved somewhere and laid on the ground. I felt my hand be cut, and the wound squeezed painfully for minutes on end. And then no one was touching me, and I had no idea what was happening or if they were even still there. I felt my hand heal unnaturally.

It was terrifying, absolutely terrifying, for the first bit. But then it got boring. I don't know how long I was there, all I know is that I was desperate to be anywhere else, and after a long enough time of wishing, I was.

I don't know how long I would've been left there if I didn't figure out how to teleport. I think they planned on me dying. When I told the other members of our tribe what happened, my captors tried to justify their actions by saying something about humanity and magic and balance, something that I wouldn't fully understand until much later. They were forced out of our tribe, and the next time I saw them I was watching their funerals from my void.

And between us, I'm the inhuman one. I'm the one who doesn't get to die. I'm the one who gets punished.

I really, really hate mages.

-~-~

"You know that whole, um… Diogenes, I think was his name… you know that whole Diogenes thing with like- y'know, 'behold, a man'?"

"Um… no." You wish you did, Kitty's obviously having trouble explaining things right now.

"Well, it's like… what even is a human? I used to feel human. Now I don't. And like… how do you even define what a human is? Like, wouldn't any definition have loopholes? Like with Diogenes. And like, other species don't have as clear cut lines as you might think, and things' scientific classifications get changed sometimes, and there's that whole 'human are fish' thing, so why would humanity as a concept be any different? Humanity is just… this idea that gets fuzzy around the edges. Like everything humans try to label."

You have absolutely no idea what they're talking about. "Yeah."

"So like- if I don't feel human, and I don't get treated like a human… I met this girl while I was homeless. She said she didn't identify with humanity as a concept. She said it was some kind of spiritual thing? Thinking back on it… it's kind of cool. I don't think she thought she was any less of like… a person? I don't know what words to use. But I don't think she hated herself. She didn't feel human, and I don't feel human… but I feel so pathetic and she didn't. So maybe… I don't know. I don't know what I'm trying to say."

You don't either. Your head hurts. "That's alright. It'll come back to you if it's important."

"It's just… I want to be able to see myself as human. So that's the main difference. I don't know… I don't know if I should try to maintain my dignity, or try to accept that I'm not really human anymore."

"Um… what?"

"She's changed me. So much. I'm never- I'm always going to be her Kitty. But I can't just be good like Puppy can, like you used to be able to- I'm not just Kitty, I'm a bad Kitty." A shudder racks their entire body and they groan. "I hate this, I hate this, even if she stopped drugging me I'd still be hers, I'm never going to be mine again!"

This line of conversation is more familiar. "Hey, breathe. You're okay. You're you."

"You don't even know who I am! You've never met me, you've only met Kitty! You only know this thing she's made me into!"

"Breathe, in for four-"

"Shut up! I can't- I can't do this, fuck, I want out!"

You can't think of anything to say. You're the only one who can help because Puppy can't talk and Kitty can only be comforted through words and you can't think of anything to say, stupid Bunny, stupid stupid Bunny-

–

You think… something's wrong.

Just admitting that to yourself is hard, but what the hell is this bluebeard-ass situation? You can go anywhere except the basement, it's not safe. You're curious, and you can't help thinking something may be wrong here anymore. Maybe Kit is constantly begging you to leave for a reason beyond paranoia. Maybe Jane seemingly having you under constant supervision isn't just meant to keep you safe. Maybe Dollie being so tense all the time, and somehow even more tense when Jane is around, is a red flag.

Well, when you put it like that, it seems obvious. You feel kind of stupid for avoiding thinking about it for so long. You need to go into the basement. What's the worst that could happen? If something is wrong, you'll get Dollie and Kit out of here, and if not, you'll have peace of mind.

–

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts-

Stupid Bunny.

–

You're in Puppy's arms. When did that happen? Your throat hurts. Kitty is gone. Fingers comb through your hair.

You think back to the last thing you can remember. Oh, was that a flashback? Usually you have at least some awareness of what's going on around you during those, but that was… that sucked. Your heart is pounding and your skin is covered in sweat.

Was it just triggered by… feeling stupid and useless? You feel that way all the time. It's weird that it triggered such a bad flashback. And the subject of the flashback was weird too, at least for causing such an intense reaction. That first punishment is far from the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

You think Kitty would have some interesting thoughts on it, if they could think. They like talking about that psychology stuff, even though most of their psychology knowledge comes from Jane. But they can't think, and they're not here.

You turn so that you can see Puppy's face. "Is Kitty in the basement?"

Puppy nods.

"Being punished?"

Puppy shakes her head. It's just the conditioning thing, then. They'll be back up soon. Maybe you will talk to them about it. As long as you're careful to stop if they seem to be getting frustrated, it'll probably be fine, and they'll need the distraction. Ideally, even while drugged they'll have opinions about it, and they'll get to feel smart for the first time in a while.

You should prioritize that, you think. Helping them feel smart might make them freak out less about being a shell of themself who's unable to think. Anything that might make them feel smart also risks making them feel stupid, so it'll be rough, but you'll try. Soon Jane will be dead, anyway.

Right, you need to be thinking about how to kill Jane! Which means you need to be thinking about how she became immortal. The same way you got your powers…

You still have no clue what that means. Is she implying that she's existed from the beginning of the universe? No, she talks about it like she was mortal once…

…Has magic existed since the beginning of the universe? You thought so, because… because Barron said there's magic in everything, and all of its books suggested magic has always existed.

Fuck, you want to talk about this with Barron more than anything. You miss it so much-

No, you can't follow that thought to its conclusion, that's what leaves you unable to leave you bed for days and you can't afford to do that, so you can't think about Barron.

"Puppy? Did Jane ever tell you… has magic always existed?"

There's a flash of something you can't quite interpret in her eyes, but it quickly disappears. She shrugs.

That's not very helpful. Still, you feel close to figuring it out. The only way what Jane's said makes sense is if magic came into existence at some point. Whatever caused that caused both her immortality and your ability to be a mage, if Jane wasn't lying. Which is a big if, but you don't really have a lot else to go on.

That's progress. Now, instead of figuring out why Jane is immortal, you have to figure out what caused all of magic to exist… It'll be a challenge, but at least you have more direction now. Soon, the three of you will be able to feel human again.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list! Two more chapters before the start of season 4 :)

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

[gummybugg]

Do you have any advice on switching between perspectives in a story?

How often is too often, how many perspectives is too many, and how to make feel less jarring when you're suddenly following an entirely different character? Any other tips?

Thanks for the ask! I'll slap a large title here to condense things:

How to Swap Between Perspectives: A Mini Writing Guide

Hmm, advice on swapping perspectives... I don't think there's a "jarring" way to swap between perspectives as long as you do it for a Reason.

I would say, "Oh, nah, there's never too many POVs!" But I feel like there can be to some extent. There's no clear Number I can place as a cap, but I just want you to keep in mind Why you have all these perspectives.

It's worth noting that POV swapping occurs in both 1st Person and 3rd (both I am currently writing). I can use my WIP Crater City as an example for the sake of simplicity. Now Onwards we go!

Ok, I want you to ask yourself this: "Is there something I would Gain by swapping characters?" I personally don't use multiple perspectives for the fun if it, I do it because

The character's emotions/experiences are an important storytelling component. For example: Frasier's perspective is the most reliable when it comes to explaining the ins and outs of Crater City when compared to Blair/Elijah. Only Frasier knows how he feels, and he has very important feelings I'd like to highlight. Otherwise, we would never know because he's typically very reserved. It really comes down to weighing whose perspective is the most Significant for that scene. Sometimes, you can even include more than one perspective for a scene, but that can easily become overwhelming/redundant*.

It can offer a crucial character-building moment. Flashbacks, dream sequences, etc. These can be slipped in between scenes/diaogues (but be careful it's relevant and doesn't break the mood) or put in their own chapters. I'm probably not the best person to ask how to write these scenes, but I can tell you to Write with a Purpose!

Speaking of mood, perhaps you think the scene would sound better in another character's POV due to their personality or what have you. There doesn't always need to be a reason, but I try to be intentional in what/how I write. Example: Blair is lackadaisical, and a scene where he's stuck in an elevator would be much funnier than if it were in Elijah's POV, even though they're both in the same scene together. Alternatively, Elijah’s serious perspective could be used to highlight more serious scenes later on, as opposed to Blair. It's kind of like swapping filters on a stage light. Use your characters' traits to your story's advantage!

Or Sometimes, we need to know what's happening behind the scenes. I would swap to Frasier's POV when I need the audience to know something our heroes do not. Perhaps Frasier is on the phone with Darcy, reporting that he's found something incriminating about Blair. And now we understand why bots were sent out to arrest Blair and Elijah! Oh, the magic of dramatic irony!

*My idea of overwhelming would be too many different POVs for the same scene (in 1st person), unless the perspectives each serve a purpose. Or even too much ping-ponging between perspectives in 3rd person [omniscient]. You want to hone your perspectives, not confuse your readers! Perspectives are a very important part of storytelling and definitely have the power to make or break a scene!

As for making the swap less jarring:

I had to Google this one, and there's no shame in that! From what I gathered, some people like to Establish a Pattern to rotate through perspectives so readers know who to anticipate. Well, I've also seen others Not do that, and instead, follow a Linear Storyline, swapping POVs out when they see fit. Another great tip would be to make it abundantly Clear who is speaking in the chapter/scene. Slap their name at the top, or what have you!

At the end of the day, one of the best ways to know if a swap is jarring/confusing is to have someone else Read your work.

And when swapping between perspectives, always ask yourself, "Why am I using this perspective? What will I gain?" But also: "What will I lose?" Very important things to keep in mind!

And of course, I'm sure I missed some things. But we're all here to Learn, so feel free to Add on!

[kit-o-nine-tales]

If you change your mind, I’m here

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: GN!Reader/Leon Scott Kennedy

Summary: Reader muses on the last time they saw Leon - the day they broke up with him.

Read on AO3

  I always think of you when it rains. Are you keeping warm, whereever you are? Do the old breaks still ache?

Stupid question, of course they do. But I wish, for your sake, that they didn't.

"How many times can a body be broken to pieces and put together again?"

I'd asked you that once, and you just laughed.

"I don't know, but I'm on track to find out," you replied.

You said it so easily, too. Like you weren't scared. Like you didn't have nightmares every night about all the things you'd seen.

Maybe it's not raining where you are. Maybe you're not in our state today. Maybe not even our country. Maybe you're out in Spain, or Russia, or China. Out fighting the newest horror to spring up from Umbrella's legacy.

I hope not, for your sake.

"I'm getting too old for this," you used to joke, years ago, back when you were just getting started. Back when the government wasn't giving you a choice.

Do you have a choice now, I wonder? She's old enough to fend for herself now, isn't she? And you are getting older. How much longer do they mean to puppet your strings? Will they use you until there's nothing left? Until you're too broken to put back together again?

Stupid question. When have the people in power ever let someone retire while they still have life in them?

We parted on a day like this. Rainy, with a cloying humidity that made every touch feel tacky and unpleasantly sticky.

We met for coffee. One of your rare days off that lined up with one of mine. I knew, going in, how our conversation would end. The answer you would give the question I planned to ask. But even so, I asked anyway. Even so, I held on to hope, as small a hope as it was.

If you sensed something was off, you gave no sign of it. You met me with a tired but true smile, my favorite already in your hand, sitting at our usual table. It almost made me change my mind. How could I even consider —

But then I noticed the mostly-faded bruises on your wrists, and the way you winced as you shifted a little too far to the left, and my resolve revived.

I gave you a smile, or at least, I tried to. Your return expression made me wonder how successful I was. Not very, I would guess. I took the drink you held out to me, and stared down at it as I took that first sip. Did my hands shake? Did you see it if they did?

Stupid question. Of course you did. You always had a way for noticing things like that.

"Some rain," you said. Your long bangs (impractical, but so endearing) were practically pasted to your forehead.

It managed to get a chuckle out of me. "Bit of an understatement," I replied. I dug through my backpack, and handed you a dry towel.

You smiled fondly at me as you took it. "Over-prepared as always."

"One of us should be," I replied teasingly.

A familiar exchange. One I miss more than I thought I would. It was a bit of a joke. In most cases, you were far more prepared for disaster than I was. But in the small things, I had you beat.

I watched as you patted your hair dry, leaving it messier than it started, sticking up at odd angles, melting my heart. You looked younger like that. Less jaded by the world.

When you were done, you looked at the towel for a moment, as if unsure whether to hand it back or hold on to it. You met my eyes, and then, nodding to yourself, handed it back.

"Say it," you said. Your face was neutral, but your eyes were sad. You knew. We both did. But neither of us could change a thing.

I swallowed. "I.... Would you quit? Retire?" I'd had a speech. Arguments and evidence, all eloquently arranged. But looking at you, I lost it all. You always did have a way of making me speechless.

You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes.

We'd talked around this before. I'd worried about you. The injuries, the close-calls. Spain had been a bad one. Almost an argument. You'd nearly lost yourself to the monsters you fought. But I always let the subject drop. Because I knew that what you were doing was important. That no one else could do it. That it needed to be done. But... it had been years. There were others now. Others who hadn't been so hurt. Others who didn't wake in cold sweat every night, who didn't drink themselves to sleep in the first place.

It didn't have to be you anymore. You could pass the torch, surely. Take time to heal, to rest.

But I knew, even before I asked, what your answer would be. Your heart, despite everything, was too good.

Sometimes I think maybe it's more than that. Sometimes I think —  maybe —  you just don't know any other way to live any more. That if you tried to settle into one place, to drift into the average everyday of groceries and appointments and tv... you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. Whatever hobbies you'd once had, whatever aspirations, wishes, or daydreams —  had all been lost. Eroded by years of fight-run-survive that left no room for such things. All you knew were monsters, terror, and blood.

And me.

At least, so I'd flattered myself sometimes, back then. I'd hoped that maybe I could be enough. That I could be there for you through it, if you would just lay your burdens down. If you would just let me.

But even still, I knew. And so did you.

You opened your eyes, sad, steely blue. And you shook your head.

I bit my lower lip, and stared back down the straw of my drink. I wasn't going to cry. Not because of pride. But because I didn't want to hurt you any more than I had to. I took another sip, swallowed, and then a deep breath.

"I love you," I said firmly. "But I can't watch this destroy you any more."

You winced again, your brows drawn together in pain. And slowly, you nodded.

"I understand," you said. You took a deep pull of your own drink.

I wondered if you had spiked it before I arrived. I felt certain you had.You never shared your drinks with me. You'd joke that it was because you might be contagious, but I knew. It was the alcohol.

"I'm sorry," I said. My heart clenched in my chest at the thought of never seeing you again. But I had to. Stars help me, I had to.

Maybe it would change things. maybe you'd change your mind with time, and someday I'd find you, standing at my doorstep, sober and free.

It hasn't happened yet.

"Don't be," you said, your voice thick. "I understand," you repeated.

"If... If you ever..." I tried. My own voice swimming with the tears I wouldn't shed. At least, not in front of you.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I know." You met my eyes again, then, and forced a smile. "If you ever need me... you know my number."

I laughed. A wet, sad thing. "I know." I said.

If the zombies ever found their way to my door, or stars know what else, you were the one to call. If I survived long enough to make the call. I didn't rate my chances very high. You'd always believed that I'd surprise myself, if the time came. Said that I had all the right instincts.

I rose from my chair, and walked over to you. I pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Stay safe. Please."

Stars,I miss the warmth of you. I can still remember the texture of your cheek beneath my lips, though time does its level best to steal that from me.

You swallowed. "I'll do my best," you replied.

"You always do," I said. It just wasn't enough.

"Take care of yourself," you told me.

I sniffed. The tears would come as soon as I left the shop. "I'll try," I said. I was never very good at that. Over prepared backpack aside.

We were both disasters in our own ways. But the gaps in me had lined up well with the gaps in you, and together we'd managed to muddle into something solid. But not solid enough to withstand the way you were coming apart at the seams.

I left the shop.

I haven't seen you since. Haven't heard your voice. Not even on the phone. I’ve heard about you a few times. Though not as much as I'd like. Claire doesn't hear from you often either, even if she does hear more than I do.

But I think of you all the time. On rainy days like today. On days when the clouds make the world feel like an impermanent dream. And I wonder: how much more can a person withstand? How long until the news I hear sends me to my knees in grief? Or will I never even hear about it? Maybe you'll meet your end in some far-off continent, alone, and in secret. Would they tell me? Would they tell Claire, or her brother, or any of the other people you know? The people who care for you? Stars, I hope they tell us. But most of all, I hope you won't meet your end alone like that.

I hope, despite everything, that one day I'll find you outside my door. Older and worn, with new aches and scars, but alive and wiser. Alive and free.

I would open my door for you, no matter how long it takes. And I would raise my eyes to yours, and there you would find all the adoration that had ever been there, as though not a day had gone by since we parted.

That, at least, I can promise.  

[jkcor3]

Pov: He makes you feel things no one ever did.

[chemicalarospec]

Example of a specific rule would be "I only read 1st person for fanfiction of books written in 1st person." Rules can also be about what kind of fic it is (ex. what rating, if it's gen or ship), even though I said "media/characters".

Option #5 means you have no rules like that, if the wording is unclear.

[quins-whump-stuff]

982 | Chapter 2: Ainsley

Contents: (institutional) pet whump, conditioned whumpee, dehumanization, imperfect caretaker, 1st person pov (whumpee's pov), lady whump (whumpee), whumpee calls caretaker her owner

Previous | Next | Masterlist

When the box lid finally slides open, relief washes over me. I am used to staying in a small space, but the box is significantly smaller than my kennel was. The sudden light stings my eyes, and I squint them.

"Uh, hi," my owner says in a quiet voice, "Let me give you a hand."

I grab the offered hand, and my owner pulls me out of the box. Once I am on the ground, I kneel on the ground, my hands folded nicely in my lap. Everything is blurry without my glasses, but I still look up towards my owner's face.

"I'm Ainsley. Yeah, uh, hi. I already said that but- ugh, nevermind. So... welcome?"

I nod gently. I haven't been given permission to speak.

"You okay? You can talk, right?"

I nod again.

My owner looks confused, like she's racking her brain for an explanation. Doesn't she understand the rules for pets?

"So, um, do you need something?"

I take a second to think. I don't need to talk, but in order to talk I need permission. And it would be nice to have my glasses and be able to see. But maybe she is testing me. I shake my head.

"Gah, why did I do this? This isn't..." She sighs before stepping behind me. I stiffen, worried that I've already upset her. I don't dare move though. I haven't been given permission, and if she's already disappointed in me, I don't want to give her more reason to be displeased. But no blow comes. The tag in my ear doesn't light with electricity. After a few moments, my owner comes back in front of me. She places my glasses onto my face sloppily, and I almost sigh in relief. I'm used to going without my glasses, but I much prefer being able to see properly.

"Sorry, I shoulda remembered sooner. And, uh," she seems to shudder slightly, "you have permission to, err, speak. Whenever. Like standing permission, okay?"

I smile, "Thank you, Master!" If I could, I would crawl to her legs and wrap them in a giant hug.

"Don't- don't call me that."

"I'm sorry! Would you prefer Mistress?"

"No, just, call me Ainsley. Just Ainsley."

"Yes, M- Ainsley."

"So, what's your name?"

I furrow my brow. "M- Ainsley, you haven't named me yet."

My owner rubs her neck, "I know that's technically how it's supposed to work, but like, surely you went by something before now?"

"982," spills over my lips instinctively.

She takes a small but sharp breath, "Well, uh, we'll need to come up with a name. I'm not calling you... that."

She turns and walks into another room, leaving me where I am. After a few moments, when it's clear that I will be here for a while, I shift my ankles to the side, but other than that, I remain motionless.

"Hey!" my owner calls, and I flinch. She must not have wanted me to move to the more comfortable position.

As she re-enters the room, I cast my gaze down. "Are you coming or what?" she asks me. I look up and raise my eyebrows questioningly.

"You can talk, remember? Standing permission."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ainsley. You didn't tell me to follow."

"Well, uh, you can come with me if you want. And feel free to move about the house, just in general. There's someone else you should meet," my owner cocks her head to the side slightly.

"Yes, Ainsley." Why does she give me a choice? I'm her pet. Why would she act like she cares what I want?

I follow her around a turn into a kitchen, then to a glass door. Outside is a luscious, green yard. My owner opens the door, but freezes when she turns to see me.

"Can't you walk?" she breathes.

"I... am?" I answer, confused.

"No, you're crawling, like a... like an animal."

"I am a pet."

"No! I mean, yeah, but... Can you walk on your feet? Like a person?" she asks, flustered.

I purse my lips slightly before shaking my head. "No, M- Ainsley. I- we never learned. It's not necessary for pets," I swallow. My owner looks distressed, and I lean my head gently against her leg, in what is supposed to be a comforting gesture. But she jumps back a bit.

I stiffen, and a hot tear slowly rolls down my cheek. I've messed up, I think, I shouldn't have touched my owner, she never said I could. She'll send me back and I'll never, never get a home after all...

[bakuliwrites]

WIP Wednesday, 1st person POV Nanami x Narrator fic sneak peek :)

“Ready!” he calls with the softest smile. Hot showers be damned, I think to myself. Kento’s tiny beam is enough to warm me from the inside out. Since we’ve moved to Malaysia, he’s been smiling so much more. His joy was always fleeting, slipping through his fingers as each day drew him further and further down into the spiraling chaos of the jujutsu world. His rare smile was always an ethereal promise, a ghost of what could be, what once was. Now, Kento has started to develop crows-feet and smile lines, and they look utterly dashing on him. 

After marveling at Kento’s crinkly joy for a moment, I’m pulled back to reality with a full-body shiver. Swiftly, I abandon my beach towel on the floor, scampering towards the promise of warmth. Kento greets me at the bathroom door with a small peck on the cheek, before guiding me inside, shutting the door behind me to conserve heat. The tiny room is already filling up with steam, a veritable sauna that instantaneously makes me forget the chill in my bones. I give a contented sigh, soaking up the vapor, letting it stick to my skin and melt away the cold and the salt. The space is cozy, just barely large enough for the shower and the sink. The toilet is hidden behind a door on the opposite side of the shower, tucked away in privacy. We have plans to expand the room, but when that will be is anyone’s guess...

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 91: Training

TWs in the tags

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Kitty is having a bad time.

Is this about the conversation they had with Bunny yesterday? They knew they shouldn't have talked like that when Jane could be listening. Now she knows they have hope for the future and she'll try to torture it out of them! Stupid fucking pills, they weren't thinking, they never would've done that if they weren't drugged! The drugs are supposed to make being compliant easier!

At least it's just them being hurt? She must have something planned for Bunny, though, she's been shockingly easy on him despite the murder attempts… But for now, at least, it's just Kitty in the basement. That's good. They try to focus on that instead of the pain from being thrown down the stairs and the possibility of being put in sensory deprivation.

"Kitty. You know how Puppy has those phrases that make her do certain things? How I can make her pass out or go limp with a few words?"

She pauses, and it takes Kitty a second to realize she's waiting for a response. "Yes, master." They do not like where this is headed.

"I want to do that with you. The medicine has made you really good, much better than before at least. But not enough." She smiles wickedly. "Don't worry. This is more of a long-term project. You won't be down here long today- you'll just be down here again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, until you're conditioned how I want. How does that sound?" She pauses again.

"...I don't know what you want me to say to that." 

Even if she puts them in sensory deprivation, it won't be longer than a day. No matter what she does, it won't be longer than a day before they get a break.

Jane laughs. "That's fair. Good Kitty, trying to figure out what I want you to say instead of just saying the first thing that comes to your mind. Look at how much you’ve changed… it’s going to be so much fun to take more of your autonomy from you, more of yourself from you.”

They recoil. Fuck, that might be worse than being constantly drugged! Their breathing quickens.

“I want to see if I can make you feel pain with just a phrase. So-“ she holds a cattle prod. “Bad Kitty.”

She shocks them, and they don’t bother to hold back their screams. They have no one to try and look strong for, and the screams are a good cue for Puppy and Bunny to know Jane is focused on Kitty anyway.

“Bad Kitty.” Another shock. Their entire body convulses painfully.

"Bad Kitty." ZAP! They bite their tongue and blood fills their mouth- fuck, what are they going to do if they bite their tongue off? They try to clench their teeth together, it would be better for a convulsion to break a tooth than for it to bite off their tongue.

"Bad Kitty." ZAP! This is so stupid. They hate that this works, that they know they won't be able to hear that phrase without feeling fear because Jane has done it before with their name. It's so stupid.

"Bad Kitty." ZAP! They're trying to shield their head with their arms as much as possible, but it still gets slammed against the floor a few times. Just what they need, another concussion. They wonder if they'd even notice if it resulted in permanent brain damage, or if they'd just assume it was a symptom of the drugs.

Jane eventually gets bored of the cattle prod and takes out a whip.

"Bad Kitty." CRACK! Kitty can't decide what they prefer- obviously the shocks can lead to damage from the convulsions, but if they were tied down and had something to bite on…

"Bad Kitty." CRACK! They're not looking forward to having to deal with the wounds on their back, but at least the pain's localized to just their back while the shocks burn all over…

"Bad Kitty." CRACK! 

It goes on and on and on. Their world is pain. They don't try to fight it, distract themself from it, or beg for mercy. There's no point. 

They can feel as their most recent pill wears off, and the world grows sharper, more in focus. The pain grows too. They're not sure if they'd rather the torture continue or be drugged. Both take away their ability to think and function like normal, but… they feel more themself while being tortured. Which is really fucking sad.

But it's not their choice. It's never their choice. 

Like always, it eventually ends. It could've gone on a lot longer, but Jane sticks to her word- they weren't down here for long today. She puts the collar back on them, makes them swallow a pill, and sends them upstairs.

~~

Puppy and Bunny immediately jump into action when Kitty gets up the stairs, cleaning the wounds and bandaging them up. It's… not as bad as it could be. Not as bad as Puppy expected it to be. That worries Puppy a little, but Kitty explains that they'll be in the basement a few hours every day until Master is satisfied, and that makes more sense.

She looks forward to being able to take care of them every day, to making the time in between the torture pleasant. That's usually not an option, at least not on this smaller scale. Obviously, she does her best to make the times in between big tortures pleasant as well.

Kitty's body twitches every once in a while, making them wince. It'll wear off before the next torture session though, so that's… better than it could be.

She can't comfort Kitty through touch and she can't comfort them through humming, so she finds other ways to help them feel nice. She wraps them in blankets and makes them a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch (their favorite food). Bunny comforts them verbally, promising this will end soon and they'll be safe, that they're strong and they'll get through this, and that they'll still be themself no matter what. It seems to help even though Kitty doesn't really believe him.

This is alright. Everything is warm and cozy and nice for now. Puppy finishes her chores while Bunny soothes Kitty, and when she comes back Kitty is asleep. That's good. Hopefully they have nice dreams.

She's trying not to think about her conversation with Bunny. She technically didn't do anything against the rules, but that wouldn't matter if Master was watching. She probably wasn't, Puppy doubts Kitty would scream like that if she wasn't there the whole time, but the possibility never leaves Puppy's mind. Master could've seen. Master could be planning a punishment right now-

But she's probably not. It's probably all fine. And she would do anything for Bunny, even if it tears her up inside thinking of how much danger he's putting himself in by not giving up on murdering Master.

Would you do anything for me, Puppy?

Master has asked her that before. It felt so wrong, hearing it come from Bunny… but she would. She would do anything for him, or for Kitty. She just… would do anything for Master too. So when those things contradict…

"Puppy? Do you wanna sit down?" Bunny pats on a spot next to him on the couch.

Puppy has been pacing around the living room, trying to stay awake and keep an eye on Kitty. She shakes her head. If Bunny asks her to sit anyway, she will, she would do anything for him, but she doesn't want to. It's so much harder to avoid sleep sitting down, and she's much better trained than the others, she knows better than to risk things like that if she doesn't have to.

"Gotcha." Bunny doesn't push. She appreciates that. He's not like Master. He's just… desperate. Which she understands.

He's going to need to be trained soon too, she's sure. Master's going to rip him apart, remove any scrap of hope, and put him back together how she likes. But for now, at least, Master seems to find his defiance entertaining, and Puppy can do her best to make the time before he gets tortured pleasant. It's all she can do.

~~

Peyton thrashes and cries in her sleep. She can act as calm as she wants around me, but I know she's afraid of me - there's nothing else in her life that could possibly cause nightmares like that!

She gasps awake and looks around her room. She doesn't see me, of course, I'm in my void. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply- in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8, like she tells me to do- then picks up her phone and calls someone.

"Chris?"

I can hear their voice from my void as if I was right next to Peyton with my ear pressed to the other side of her phone. They sound tired. "What's wrong?"

"I, um… I'm- I had a nightmare about- about one of my clients dying, and I can't get the images out of my head- can you stay on the phone with me until I calm down? It- it's okay if you can't, I just can't be alone right now, I can find someone else to call or something if you can't-"

"No, that's fine. I can stay on the phone with you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay, okay. I'll just tell you about my plans for tomorrow then. I don't have work, so I'm going to vacuum my room-"

The conversation is boring from there, but I stay until Peyton's more composed. I never get to see her like this, what a treat! I wonder how she'd feel if I killed Chris…

She has nightmares about my threats, which is very good. She takes them seriously, even if she pretends she doesn't. I wonder how much she'd cry if I did kill her client. Would she be able to hold it in until she thought I was gone? Or would she let herself look weak in front of me? Would she lash out, or get self-destructive? So many possibilities…

I control her, even if she likes to pretend I don't. That's what's important. It's nice to know! She's just as well-trained as my pets, but she doesn't know it yet, which makes it even better. It's going to be so fun to destroy her life!

But not yet. I'll know when the time is right, when I can cause maximum damage, and we're not there yet.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

[stingywiththeirusername]

Mutuality (Dark Taro Yamada AU)

“Opening Chapter”

(Author's Note: This came from an idea from a Gacha Youtube called ""Senpai, Ayano keeps stalking you." | Yandere Simulator | Yandere Taro AU? | Gacha Meme" by Vquira of which I put my idea in the comment section and decided to do a short one-shot about it since I need to do something to feel productive no matter what to procrastinate on my school works so rip. I don’t really keep up much with the news about Yandere Simulator other than he update videos, AUs, concept videos, and Kubz Scout’s videos so I only write here just to let out some creativity and inspiration.

Here is the original comment: Honestly this is more interesting. Like Ayano, Taro also doesn't feel much emotions but unlike her, he can mask his emotions pretty well to the point not even Osano noticed, maybe Hanako did but she's keeping quiet afraid it'll ruin the happy family illusion they have. So when Ayano starts her yandere shenanigans towards Taro he becomes interested and watches her do all these deeds in hopes of gaining his "affections". Maybe Ayano originally was a toy to him, something he uses to feel emotions based on her actions, but along the way he gets increasingly possessive of her and eventually pulls an uno reverse on Ayano and kidnaps her. He'll probably let her go after telling her everything and he'd return to watching in the sidelines as Ayano eliminates any "rivals" she has when in reality, it is highly likely Taro only does so so he can be entertained by Ayano. Sounds like a lovely dark game wherein Taro knowingly pulls all these flags and Ayano struggles to get rid of them but there is never an "end" unless either Taro gets bored of her or Ayano dies.)

Next -->

*-*-*-*

What makes people smile? What compells them to cry? How about when they laugh to the point they collapse to the side with cheeks aching? What about when they feel the hot slice of rage and the needless want to fight? What makes a person become a person? Is it the mere act of having emotions that denote them to being normal? 

I don’t understand them. Maybe that’s why my parents cried whenever they saw me stare at them. Maybe that’s why my sister keeps on clinging on to me. Maybe that’s why I feel nothing but boredom whenever I see the family I was born into. 

People told me my name suited me.

Taro Yamada, the name of an unknown dead person.

It didn’t click to me why I was so different, in a sense. I was smart, I didn’t bully other people-- what more could they want from me? I was respectful, I was calm, but apparently that wasn’t enough. Being a person can be so tough, and not at all rewarding so I didn’t care. I was already told to be a child prodigy but even then strangers would always look at me with unease, ‘whispering’ how I was surely wrong.

Wrong in what way? I would soon figure out when my parents reluctantly pulled me out of homeschool under the urgency of a child psychologist. 

When I came to school for the first time I was... surprised.

Children cried, children laughed, children made messes, children threw tantrums, children were alive.

Now I understood.

I understood why my parents locked themselves in the room to cry after they saw me wandering the halls of our house, why my younger sister clung to me trying to make me feel an ounce of emotion, why strangers threw my family pitying looks and gave me unsettled ones, and why exactly it felt like I was so disconnected from the world as though I was a living dead person.

After coming home, my parents sat me down and cautiously asked me how was my first day of school. I eyed them, wondering if I should tell them how I felt displeased to be in the presence of such noisy children, or how the teachers were patronizing towards me, or the fact that the curriculum was way below with what I was used to--

So instead I pasted on a curious look just like what I saw and told them the exact opposite of what I felt.

“My classmates are all lively!” They’re so annoying, they cry and scream over the littlest of things it’s embarrassing.

“The teachers are also nice to us, they make sure to engage.” If you could call it engage based on how they would shush the children and talk to them in that sickening sweet voice.

“Also the lessons were really easy than I thought!” It was boring, I nearly fell asleep but didn’t because I’d rather not be made an example for others to look at.

With every sweet lie I told them, they fell readily. It was almost sad to see how desperate they were, almost.

After that, I had everything I needed. My parents became more and more happy, pleased, and spoiled me whenever I flashed them that smile other children gave. They readily cleaned up any mess I made, even encouraging it by buying games I didn’t even want to play so I gave them all to my sister and by consequence she became spoiled with how I gave her second handed gifts from me, clinging even more and telling me useless things about her day, her thoughts-- 

I bore it all with an indlugent smile because I knew underneath all of that zeal Hanako knew I wasn’t getting better as my foolish parents deluded themselves into thinking, even outright yelling at the child psychologist who warned them to stay vigilant. Their child of which they loved yet feared finally felt like a child, why would they want to face the cruel reality that child could so very well be faking it? No, no that’s too painful for them so they’d rather drown in their denial.

It was amusing.

Hanako must have been in the same vein but in a completely different trajectory. She so desperately wanted that perfect happy family life she saw other kids her age have and covered up whatever cracks I had when my parents came up to me, wanting love from a child like me. It’s why she’s so clingy and desperate, she’s trying to compensate for everything I lack, she’s lucky I find her struggles and periods of derangedness of which she had to carry this happy life she oh so wanted entertaining.

Years of dancing around this issue. Years of playing house have passed and now I’m in my last year of highschool.

It was admittedly delightful to watch other people come up to me and lay down whatever burden they may have due to the reputation I built of being the quiet, unassuming, plain, and non-judgmental person. Not even the ever so infamous Info-chan of this school could ever hope to convince people of who I truly was, I was here longer than her, if she wanted to destroy me she didn’t have much in terms of blackmail.

I did live a pretty simple quiet life.

...

It’s boring.

It’s beyond boring.

I can’t even do anything without risking my reputation, not like how when I was a somewhat nobody and I entertained myself by guiding the gyarus of this school to target those shy easily taken advantage of boys that turned to delinquets, it was riveting to see the mighty Guidance Counselor break and guilt trip herself for not listening to the cries of victims. It also was such a shame that I could no longer spread any gossip about Raiburu Fumetsu being an unbeatable rival to the point she had been chained to her position and quietly suffering. It was a shame that student, Budo Masuyama, had to defeat her. It was a shame but it did help keep Osana off my back so I suppose it was a blessing in disguise.

But that doesn’t dissuade the fact I am bored.

Now here I am, wandering the halls after putting away the book I borrowed and getting another one because at this point books are the only thing I don’t feel bored with compared to people. I’m sure Kumi Demura knows what exactly I am but she wisely doesn’t say anything. I thought I felt a kinship towards her but unlike me, Kumi feels nothing about her situation, not even when people whisper about her, and yet despite her lack of emotions she has friends without faking it, faking anything.

It was vexing, especially when I even spread rumors about her and her emotions resulting to the pool of friends limiting-- she still showed nor said anything.

Maybe it is better that those who are similar repel one another, I can’t imagine what the future for me would be like if I was together with someone like me.

As I turn the corner I accidentally bumped into someone.

I quickly gave a worried look as I stretched out a hand, “H-Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry for bumping into you.”

The girl had black hair tied in a ponytail, it made me raise an eyebrow because only a few people here have black hair against the sea of rainbow colored ones. She looked up at me with her black eyes and suddenly--

It felt like I was suffocating.

Her eyes suddenly lit up, there was a crushing void dragging me in, choking me with the onslaught of emotions I never had the chance to feel. It felt as though the world was too colorful yet saturated in a way that could make your eyes bleed at the insensity.

It was intense.

And it was new.

My smile fixed itself on my face as I gave a sheepish wave, apologizing to her and hurriedly walking away. My heart pounding intensely for the very first time when I could feel her burning gaze directed at my back. 

I knew in that moment that girl was just like me. Devoid of emotions. Devoid of life.

Yet unlike me, she felt it, the rush of emotions to the point it could crush you. It was-- For a brief moment I didn’t know what to think of her other than ‘How lucky.’

“Senpai! There you are! You made me wait too long! Do you know what time it is? Everyone’s gone home, baka!” The familiar high piercing shriek of my childhood friend came to my attention as I hid the flicker of annoyance and gave her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of my head.

“I’m sorry Osana, I got too wrapped up in my book--”

“Baka! You need to be conscious about the time you’re spending, especially when someone’s waiting for you!” Osana cut me off instantly and I gave a great big breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, you need to keep to your word or else you’ll make me angry!”

‘When are you not angry?’ I gritted in my head. At first I thought it’d be amusing to have this sort of person beside me but now it’s gotten too much, especially when Osana was such a coward she had to resort to verbally abusing me to hide her affections. What a counterproductive way of expressing your emotions, do you want me to hate you? And when I do you instantly become guilty and beg me not to hate you-- What else do you want me to do? You treat me with anger, I will respond in kind. Even with my lack of emotions I could empathize in I can say for certainty nobody would put up with such antics like this, maybe a masochist but sadly Osana doesn’t seem to want to go for them, it would’ve made my life easier and even then it’s annoying for me to let go of such an amusing toy like her.

I just gave her a smile and decided to look back for some reason and oh, I was treated with the wonderful look of pure homicidal rage and fervor of anger. The girl’s attention was solely on Osana who kept rambling about what she and her friend, Raiburu, did or talked about. All things I couldn’t even care about. Those black eyes of hers showed vivid urges to do something and I couldn’t help but shudder.

I’m sure with the actions I will take it would prove to be a huge movement within the school, especially regarding the unsavory historical event here in Akademi High. Whatever actions I will take, I’m sure Hanako would transfer in this school if I’ve started to break her perfect family and the daughter of the Saikou Corps would surely up the ante of the school if something oh so tragic would occur...

“Senpai? Why’re you smiling so much?” Osana asked with an edge to her voice, but I hadn’t spent all those years misdirecting and gaslighting her to think there was nothing wrong with her treasured senpai and childhood friend.

Hm? I was smiling?

I absently touched my cheek to discover I had been smiling. A cheery one if I had to put a label.

“What’re you thinking about?”

I smiled at Osana, ignoring how she spluttered out her words and her cheeks reddened, “Nothing much, just a... Interesting thought.”

We were outside the school and I chanced back to look and I smiled again when I saw a shadowy figure waiting by the window.

This��ll be fun.

Next -->

(Author’s Note: Andddd that’s it! I don’t know if I’ll expand on it but I do have other ideas about an alternate universe about Yandere Simulator, all inspirations provided by the contents of the YouTube videos I’ve been consuming.)

[space-blue]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

THANK YOU @bucky-yes for the tag!

Here's a snippet of my nano work (big lol considering I've been too busy for it but..)

There are three types of exorcisms in America today:

The benevolent kind—from priests educated in psychology, who'll wave incense, flick holy water, and contrive some bible verses to convince people to seek professional help.

The scam type—an age old classic and the closest to mass media depictions of exorcisms. A priest realises the best way to keep his congregation happy and donating is to cater to their whims, so the house is always haunted, little Jimmy always possessed, and the priest always trying his best... As many times as it takes.

Finally, and rarest of all, there's what we do. The real deal. Or as my former classmate Pascal used to couch it, "the real good shit the Lord intended".

Tagging @spicedrobot @skierunner and @scuttlebuttin if you wanna do an art?

[silverdragonreads]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: James Bond (Movies), James Bond (Craig Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond) Additional Tags: PWP, Jealousy, Insecurity, Angst, slightly spoilery, Spoilers Summary:

“Did you want me to stay?” You venture.

 “Did you want to leave?” Point to Bond.

Q muses on one Commander James Bond.