#disclaimer: I don't actually know how accurate this is when looking at the actual story

[sunnieschaos]

So you know how kdj has always been kind of... alone?

Like he's been ostracised by classmates, shunned by family members, treated badly by society in general. And this happened during what were some of his most formative years.

I believe that's a big reason for why he acts like he's such a bad person. He has kind of been treated like he was one for all those years. Being called a murderer's son and all that.

Idk it just reminded me of how willingly he accepted being called a villain at some points in the main story.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[unholybacon355]

Everything stays in the family

Park Jihyo x G!P Huh Yunjin

Word Count: 6.8K

TW: Incest.

[PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

DISCLAIMER: I'm adding this disclaimer because I think it's necessary.

This story have some taboo themes like incesto to name one. I need to say that obviously some of the things I wrote here aren't good and by any means I'm trying to make it look like good and normal things. Read at your own discretion.

Everything you see here is fiction and many things in this story are not really good. This is for fun and only for that. Also, all the characters you see here are adults and Jihyo is older, but I'm not specifying how old she is.

Another thing to say is that I have no clue about how human bodies actually work, so you can't expect me to be very accurate about some things. I'm not saying what because I want you to figure it out as you read.

Last thing to say is that I've been posting this story for a while on Ao3 and just now I'm doing it here. Because that I gonna post the two first chapters as one here, and this chapter gonna be full of sad things but this is necessary for the plot and background. So the smut really start on the next chapter, chapter that gonna be posted really soon here.

Summary: Things in Yunjin's life really turn upside down when someone unexpected returns from her past. After that everything becomes chaos in her life.

CHAPTER ONE

“Why is it so hard for you to call her like that? Just say it and that's it”

"Why? Maybe because she is not my mother… Not the real one at least.”

Chaewon stared at Yunjin before continuing, perhaps pondering her words or perhaps thinking of something completely different. One could never be sure with this girl. “You just admitted that you see her like a mother. It shouldn’t be that much of a problem just calling her that.”

Yunjin hugged her girlfriend around her waist and settled better next to her on the bed. “I know, it's just… It doesn't seem fair.” She pronounced the last part of that sentence lowering her voice, as if she thought she was saying something bad. “Yes, she has been very good to me and she helps me in everything she can without me even needing to ask. But I think I still owe something to my mother.” The redhead rested her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"Love. You don't owe that woman anything. She doesn't even talk to you anymore.” She gave the other girl a quick little kiss on the top of her nose before continuing. “It's like she has already forgotten that she is your mother, instead Jihyo has been taking care of you all this time. ”

“You make me look like the bad girl here.”

“None of that, I'm simply pointing out facts.”

“Well, I guess I'm avoiding calling her that because that would be accepting that my real mother doesn't love me anymore.”

Chaewon took her girlfriend's face with both hands and covered it with small kisses to try to change the sad expression that had taken over her. “If you lose a mother you will gain another fantastic one.” Another round of kisses on Yunjin's face and her expression began to change. “Plus I think it's a little bit hot.”

“EEEEEEEEWWWWWWW! It's my mother you're talking about.”

“Do you see how it is not so difficult? “You just need the right motivation.”

“My girlfriend trying to seduce my father's wife is not the kind of motivation I would expect.” As soon as she finished the sentence she couldn't contain her laughter, which quickly spread to her girlfriend. She kissed her back, laughing, and they both fell back on the bed. Yunjin had to admit that although sometimes the most random phrase one could expect could come out of Chaewon's mouth, or not, but when she was right she really was. “Her birthday is coming up, it would be a good gift. “I just hope she doesn't think I do so I don't feel displaced.”

“I'm sure she will understand and she will be happy. She's going to have two new daughters at the same time."

“Are you still with that idea? The truth is it is still too early to know that. There is still about a month left to know for sure.”

“It's just a feeling, but I want a younger sister.”

“Not only is it enough for you to want to steal my mother, you also plan to steal my new sister.”

“You really accepted the idea of calling her mother very quickly.”

“I do it partly to make you ashamed of making those horny jokes, even though I know it's no use.” Both girls laughed happily at Yunjin's words.

“Of course it's of no use. But you know I only find her hot because she looks a lot like you.” As soon as she finished the sentence, Chaewon blew a kiss to her girlfriend, which made the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter.

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Hours later, Yunjin drives home later than she should have been. She had promised Jihyo that she would help her with some things around the house, but because of her girlfriend Yunjin had missed the time. Even though she knew Jihyo wouldn't be upset, she was still worried that she didn't get home on time.

Her father's wife had always been very good to her. From the moment they met she treated her well, even before they became a couple with her father they already got along well. The truth was that Jihyo was a kind and happy woman, hardworking and very brave; but from what Yunjin had heard she was also very strict at work. Jihyo was a boss who liked the company rules and the delivery times of reports, or other activities, to be respected.

Jihyo and Yunjin's father had known each other a long time before she was born. Jihyo had originally been friends with Yunjin’s biological mother, but she had moved away a couple of years after Yunjin was born and she disappeared from her family's life for many years. After a successful career abroad she had returned to the country and her destiny ended up reuniting her with Yunjin's father. This after her parents' marriage failed.

Some time after resuming their friendship, Jihyo and Yunjae (Yunjin's father) had formed a company together. Company that to this day continued to grow and allowed them to live well, not surrounded by luxury but comfortably. Parallel to their work relationship, their personal relationship became increasingly closer, to the point that it was impossible for them to continue denying what they felt and they began dating.

While they both talked to Yunjin about her relationship and Jihyo always respected that her daughter came first for Yunjae, she didn't really care. It's not that she was indifferent to the matter, but she had already accepted a long time ago that her mother was not going to return and that her family would never be together again. On the other hand, she was very happy to see her father happy with her again. She could see that Jihyo was good for her father and that could only mean that she was the one for him. So as far as Yunjin was concerned, as long as Jihyo didn't hurt Yunjae she had no reason to poke around in their relationship.

On top of all that was the fact that Jihyo had never tried to assert herself as Yunjin's mother. She knew that she wasn't and that it wasn't her place to take that role either, no matter how much she might love Yunjin; And the truth was that the girl was very grateful for that. By this point she had already spent many years without a mother, practically all of her adolescence, so she had to learn to live without a mother figure around her. You could say that the closest thing she had to that was Chaewon's mother who always took care of her, but it was still not the same.

Nowadays, Yunjin hardly thinks about her mother anymore. Not after putting up with her lies for so long, when she stood her up, when she didn't show up to her school presentations, or because one day she simply stopped texting back to her. Because some time before Jihyo entered her life, her mother had begun to distance herself definitively, and by the time her father began the new relationship, they practically no longer spoke. Now the only contact Yunjin had with her mother was when she sent her a text to congratulate her on Christmas or her birthday, but nothing more.

For all these reasons it bothered her that she had forgotten to help Jihyo, especially now that they knew the woman was pregnant. Although she was only a couple of months pregnant, her body had already begun to show signs of change, which was why she along with Yunjae had decided that Jihyo should rest more. She now worked from home and only did the essentials, no long meetings or staying up late filling out paperwork and putting everything in order. For that she had employees, and they even took care of her and tried to make sure she didn't overexert herself. Which is why Jihyo ended up scolding them, claiming that she was only carrying a baby inside her, and that she had not become incapacitated overnight.

Even more so, she resented not having arrived on time due to the fact that Yunjae had had to make an emergency trip and would be away from home for a few weeks, so now Yunjin and Jihyo were alone. And although she knew that nothing would happen also knew the woman well enough to assume that Jihyo would try to do everything by herself. So she hurried to drive home as fast as she could without breaking the law.

When she finally arrived at her destination, she was struck by the fact that there was an unknown car parked on the sidewalk in front of the house, but she thought it could be a company employee who came for something that couldn't wait. Or maybe it was an Jihyo's friend who came to help where Yunjin had failed. Trying to push the thoughts of her guilt out of her mind, she hurried to put her own vehicle in the garage and sneak into the house, trying not to interrupt if Jihyo was in an important meeting. Certainly Yunjin would have never imagined the true nature of the conversation that was taking place in the living room.

The first thing that caught her attention was seeing Jihyo and her companion in the living room. Well, from the posture and expression of her stepmother you could easily tell that she was not comfortable at all, which made Yunjin think that it was definitely something related to her work. But then why were they be here and not in the office? Jihyo had a fully equipped office in the house, where such a meeting would normally have taken place. It was not normal for her to use the room for such things.

Now somewhat intrigued, Yunjin tried to sneak to the stairs that will take her to the second floor and the safety of her room, but when she was already setting foot on the first step she heard a sob coming from the living room. Something strange was definitely going on there. Although Jihyo was strict at work, never to the point of making her employees cry, that was something that could never be expected of her. But apparently that sob hadn't come from her stepmother either. Yunjin froze for a second until her desire to know what was happening was stronger than her, then she slowly turned and approached the entrance of the living room.

With her back pressed against the hallway wall, Yunjin could now hear what was being said inside the room. Jihyo was talking to a woman, who had a strangely familiar voice, but Yunjin was not able to identify it among the employees she knew. Straining her ears she tried to better understand what both women were saying, perhaps she did understand what they were talking about and could know the reason for the sobs.

“How dare you after everything I did for you?” The stranger said.

"Sorry? Did I listen well? Because according to my memories I was the one who had to leave, or have you already forgotten?” Jihyo was definitely angry, even though she tried to hide it, Yunjin could tell. In her mind she could almost visualize Jihyo clenching her jaw to suppress her rage.

“If I hadn't intervened, things would have been much worse for you.”

Even being on the other side of the wall, Yunjin could clearly hear Jihyo snort through her nose, almost as if trying to release some pressure from a boiler that was about to explode. Anyone who knew the woman well knew that it took a lot to get her to this point.

“I saved your and your brother's asses and all I got was the company blaming me for what happened. You two were the cause of all the losses the company had, but nevertheless the one they ran into and ended up transferring to another country was me. It took me years of hard work to make a name for myself again. ”

“What did you want me to do? My family would have lost everything if it was known that it was our fault. I couldn't put my husband and daughter through that shame, no…”

“But yet you ended up abandoning them.” Jihyo cut her off abruptly, to which the woman let out a small sob. “And control those fake tears, you're not going to fool me again.”

Apparently the woman came from Jihyo's past, and in Yunjin's head an idea was forming of who this mysterious person could be; but she wanted with all her might to be wrong. Never before had she wished so much that she was making a mistake.

“That has nothing to do with you. But of course, you benefited from it anyway. “You couldn’t stay out of Yunjae’s bed and you tried to steal my daughter.” Yunjin's heart skipped a beat, what she was hearing couldn't be true.

“My relationship with Yunjae is none of your business, and as for Yunjin. You should take better care of your words. I was the one who was there for her on all those occasions when you failed her, I was the one who had to teach her things that her mother was supposed to show her. Regardless of how things ended between you and Yunjae, she wasn't the one to blame. Yunjin still loves you, she even keeps waiting for you to call her on important dates. She tries to hide it, but I can tell how she gets sad on her birthday or Christmas.”

“You're a bitch who stole my family, don't try to lecture me.” The tone of the woman, Yunjin's biological mother, had changed drastically. Now it could be clearly seen that she was also very angry.

“You abandoned them and they took me in. End of story." In the other room Yunjin heard someone stand up. “Now you should go. I have nothing more to talk to you about. Yunjae is away, I'll tell him to contact you when he gets back. Whether he does it or not depends entirely on him. And as for Yunjin, she should be arriving any minute, but I'm not going to let her see you like this. Not today. You no longer have the right to hurt her, much less in my house.”

“It's your house only because you stole my family. That you will not forget."

“The one that should remember is you. Remember how you left your family for an adventure that only lasted a couple of months. If you care so much about your daughter, you should have stayed with her instead of chasing an idiot.”

Yunjin couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her parents had never told her the real reason why her mother had left. Although they talked to her, she always suspected that there was something more behind the whole situation. Now that she was finding out everything, she would have liked it to happen differently.

“Damn bitch, don't tell me what to do!” Yunjin's mother was clearly losing her temper, and the girl, unable to take it anymore, quickly stood up and entered the room facing both women.

Sure enough standing in front of Jihyo, who looked like she was hurting herself because her jaw was so clenched, was the woman who had given birth to Yunjin. The same one that had dumped her, the same one that had forgotten about her and now burst into her life as if nothing had happened. Just now that everything seemed to be going well.

"Mother!" Was all Yunjin could say as she burst into the room. She could now see the two women standing in front of each other, both with unfriendly expressions. At the sudden appearance of the girl Jihyo changed her expression drastically. Going in a matter of seconds from having the sternest look Yunjin had ever seen on her, to an expression of deep concern.

The other woman on her part seemed to get even angrier. She had a vein in her temple that was about to burst, and she seemed to be blowing steam out of her nose from how angry she was. "Damned!" She yelled at Jihyo. “It was probably your idea for her to listen to our conversation. You can’t stop putting things in my daughter’s head.” With the most poisonous look she had she tried to pounce on Jihyo, but in a reflex action Yunjin put herself between both women.

“Mom, what are you doing?!” Yunjin couldn't believe what was happening. "Stop." She added, but her voice barely came out. From one moment to the next her throat had dried up to the point where it was difficult for her to speak.

“Yunjin… I… Get away from this bitch. Don't you see that she's trying to turn you against me?” While the woman spoke she changed her tone on more than one occasion. First surprise, then confusion, and finally impregnating her words with rage and venom.

“Mom, no…” Yunjin slowly lowered her arms that she had opened without realizing it, to prevent her own mother from reaching Jihyo. “Is everything I heard true?”

"Daughter. Don't believe this bitch, she just wants to play the victim. She is trying to turn you against me.”

"Mother. Is it true or not?" At some point Yunjin's eyes had started to water. “Is it true that you abandoned my father for an affair? Just for that?”

“Don't listen to her my love… All this woman wants is to destroy my family.”

“‘WE ARE NOT YOUR FAMILY ANYMORE!’” The scream escaped from Yunjin like a reflex, like an outlet for all the rage and pain she was suddenly feeling. “You abandoned us for nothing, you no longer have the right to call us family.”

“Daughter… I…”

“GO away, just go. I don't want to know about you anymore. And also leave my father alone, now we are happy with someone who loves us and cares about us.” Yunjin was really holding back her tears, and gathering all her strength so that her voice wouldn't end up breaking.

“Daughter, that woman…”

“You heard her,” Jihyo intervened, advancing and putting herself between Yunjin and her mother. “You have to leave, I won't repeat it again.” The expression on Jihyo's face was as stern as her muscles would allow her to express. At first glance you could see that the woman was not playing.

"Bitch. You’re going to find out who you’re messing with.” Despite the hatred printed in her words, the woman took her bag and headed for the exit.

“No, I'm not going to do it. I already know what kind of vermin you are, I learned it a long time ago. But if you still care about something, you are not going to come near this house again or everyone is going to find out what happened in that company.”

Both women held each other's gaze for a few seconds that seemed eternal, then letting out a cry of frustration, Yunjin's mother left the house, slamming the door loudly. Inside Jihyo and Yunjin stood as they were for a few minutes, listening as the woman started the car and collided with what seemed to be a flowerpot in the garden, to finally leave.

Suddenly Yunjin found herself surrounded by Jihyo's arms, in an attempt to comfort and contain her. But the demonstration of affection had the opposite effect and Yunjin could no longer hold back her tears. She burst into tears hugging the woman standing next to her as tightly as she could. The woman who had defended her from her own mother, which made her cry even more. And even though she could feel her tears falling onto Jihyo's expensive suit she couldn't help but continue crying.

Yunjin thought she was over her mother, but this sudden intrusion had clearly shown her that was not the case. Besides, now she didn't know what hurt her more, whether her mother's lies, how she had treated Jihyo, or that she was the one who had to defend her from her mother. Right now the only thing Yunjin was sure of was that she felt an emptiness in her heart and she didn't want to let go of Jihyo for any reason.

For her part, the woman said nothing. She just kept hugging Yunjin tightly and stroking her hair from time to time. Every once in a while she would kiss her on the head and try to clean the tears out a little, but she didn't try to say anything or stop Yunjin from crying. She knew it was better to let her release all her grief, but what Jihyo didn't know was that this spontaneous display of affection only made Yunjin cry more.

Yunjin had just kicked her mother out of her life, which she certainly deserved, and it was Jihyo who was supporting her in this strange situation. She couldn't believe that just a few hours ago she had doubted whether she should call Jihyo mother or not, and now the woman had earned it. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it before, but now she herself had shown that she loved Yunjin more than her own mother. It was incredible how life could turn upside down in just a second.

They stayed hugging like that for a long time, so long that they began to get tired, but Jihyo did nothing to move the girl from the spot. She just let her cry as much as she wanted, as much as she needed to. However, Yunjin suddenly realized that she was hugging a pregnant woman, that Jihyo had gone through a very difficult time, and that she couldn't force her to stand for so long. Yunjin slowly released her hug and turned her face away from the older woman's body, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“You should sit down” She whispered looking at the woman, but Jihyo just wiped the tears from Yunjin's face with her sleeve. “It's not good for you to be on your feet for so long.”

"Dear." Jihyo said with a kind smile on her face, showing how worried she was for the girl. “I'm fine, I'm more worried about you.” In a reflex action, Yunjin couldn't help but hug her again.

"Let's sit. I do not want anything to happen to you." Jihyo let herself be guided by the girl to the couch where they both sat one beside the other.

Yunjin didn't know what to say, and for her part Jihyo didn't want to force her to speak. So they stayed silent as Yunjin slowly leaned down and hugged Jihyo again. The older woman once again surrounded her with her arms, in a rather maternal attitude, which made Yunjin shed another tear. It was incredible how she had never noticed how Jihyo always treated her like her own daughter.

Yunjin was once again lost in her thoughts as she hugged Jihyo, so she didn't notice that she had started crying again. Now they were small tears that ran down her cheeks, which also ended up on Jihyo's suit. But the older woman again said nothing, Yunjin's well-being was still more important to her than a piece of clothing.

Again they stood there hugging for what seemed like an eternity, and again Jihyo let the girl cry in peace. Yunjin was really grateful for that gesture, all she needed right now was peace. A peace that it pained her to remember had been taken away by her mother.

"Dear." Jihyo whispered in Yunjin's ear when they had been like this for quite some time. “I know it hurts you and that you should let it all out, but it's too late. ”For a second Yunjin thought that she would be reprimanded for taking up the woman's time, but she was greatly surprised when Jihyo continued. “I guess you haven't had dinner yet. Do you want me to order something to eat? We can talk about what happened while the food arrives.”

Holding back tears, Yunjin separated from Jihyo and nodded. She was sure that now she herself couldn't speak, her throat hurt a little and she felt a little dizzy, but in fact she also suddenly felt very hungry.

"Very good. Give me a second." Then Jihyo in another maternal gesture kissed Yunjin forehead before taking her own phone and opening an application to order some dinner. After a few minutes she put the phone aside again and put her hands around Yunjin's. “Do you want to talk now?”

Again Yunjin nodded her head. “But I need to wash my face first.” She added with a small sigh, before getting up to go to the bathroom. She returned minutes later, a little clearer and with her face clean of all traces of tears. She still had red eyes though. “Is everything you said before true… About my mother?” Yunjin asked, finally sitting down next to the older woman.

“I don't know how much you heard, but everything I said is true. Many years ago I had to leave my life behind because of her and your uncle.”

“Is it also true that she left us to pursue another man?” Yunjin asked as she felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“That is also true. But you should ask your father about that, I have no authority and I shouldn't get involved in that matter. It's something you have to resolve between yourselves, however I'm going to say that Yunjae didn't tell you anything trying not to hurt you.”

Yunjin stifled a small sob that threatened to make her cry again, but gathering all her strength she managed to suppress the cry. “Okay, I'll wait for my father to come back to talk to him. But I have a couple more questions that I would like you to answer.”

“Shoot and we'll see if I'm in a position to respond.”

The conversation that followed was long and in many parts Yunjin was on the verge of crying again, but Jihyo always managed to comfort her in time. Some of the girl's questions were not answered, either because Jihyo believed it wasn't her thing or simply because she didn't want to delve into certain topics right now. Anyway, after two long hours and a dinner in between, Yunjin was visibly calmer.

The girl sent a couple of texts to her girlfriend telling Chaewon in general terms what had happened, and promising that the next day she would update her on everything that had happened. Then she and jihyo decided that it was late and they should rest, so they got ready to go to bed. The older woman said goodbye to Yunjin with a new kiss on her forehead and made her promise that if she needed anything from Jihyo she would not hesitate to go talk to her. Which planted a strange seed in the girl's head.

Minutes later, when Jihyo was ready to get into bed, she heard Yunjin knock on her bedroom door, with small, timid knocks. “Come in, you can come in,” the older woman said loudly so the girl could hear her. "What's wrong dear?" She asked when Yunjin was inside the room.

“Jihyo… Can I ask you a favor?” Yunjin asked the question by looking away and trying to hide her hands in the sleeves of her pajamas. “It's actually silly, so if you don't want to it's fine, but…” she swallowed and thought that she couldn't continue.

"Calm down. It doesn’t matter what it is, just ask.”

"Good." Yunjin swallowed again. “You already did a lot for me today, more than I would have been able to ask for. But I wanted to ask you… I wanted to know if I can sleep with you tonight.” Yunjin finally shoot.

For a small second Jihyo's face lit up with a wide smile. “Of course you can, no problem.” She gestured for Yunjin to close the door t, and join her on the bed. Shyly Yunjin walked slowly until she reached the edge of the large bed, thought about it for a few seconds and finally got into the place that her father would normally use.

"Thank you. For what happened before, and for letting me sleep with you.”

“No problem, it's the least I can do for you. I may not show it but I care about you. ”

"I know. I've always noticed it, and I'm grateful to you for that. I’m glad it’s not like in the movies.”

“Are you glad I’m not the evil stepmother trying to steal the father's fortune? Honey, you can’t claim victory yet.” It was obviously a joke and Yunjin knew it, so she couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. “Now that you are happier, we should sleep. We both need to rest.”

“Ok evil stepmother.” It was Jihyo who couldn't help but laugh this time, as she turned off the light.

“Be careful, maybe I have a hidden cauldron in the basement.” For the first time since they met, Jihyo allowed herself to tickle Yunjin, to which the girl responded with more laughter.

“What happened to sleeping?” Yunjin asked with a laugh. "The one who needs rest the most is you, I don't want anything to happen to my brother."

“Now you sound like your father. Killjoy." Yunjin wasn't able to see the small pout Jihyo made, but that only meant how comfortable the woman felt being around her. A strange connection had formed that night between the two of them. "Good night."

"Good night."

That time they did remain silent, trying to sleep, covered up to their necks next to each other. However, the minutes passed and Yunjin was unable to fall asleep, there were too many things in her head that did not let her rest. She felt a little tormented by everything that had happened just a few hours ago, so Yunjin instinctively approached Jihyo. It had been so many years since she had last slept with her mother that she wasn't even able to remember how she felt. There was nothing left of that familiar warmth that once existed between them. All she had right now was the woman who was lying next to her.

Without really knowing why she was doing it, Yunjin clung closer to Jihyo and tried to hug her from behind. She slowly circled her waist, until she froze when she felt the woman move. But far from scolding her or pushing her away, Jihyo intertwined her fingers with the girl's, while she herself clung a little closer to Yunjin's body. Without saying a word Jihyo took Yunjin's hand and raised it to her chest.

The girl had to hold back tears once again at Jihyo's gesture. She had already lost count of how many times something the woman did had almost brought her to tears that day. "Thank you." She whispered so quietly that it was impossible for Jihyo to have heard her, since she was saying it more to herself.

Again the minutes passed and again Yunjin couldn't sleep, but this time for a different reason. “Jihyo. Can I ask you another question?” Said in almost a whisper.

“The last one of the night. You have classes tomorrow, don't forget. You know your father gets angry if you miss school.”

Yunjin gave a small smile before speaking again. “Today I was discussing it with Chaewon, and the truth is… I was going to ask you at some point anyway, but I guess after what happened today I don't want to wait anymore… You still don't have to answer right away, and it's totally valid if you tell me no.”

“Yunjin, just ask the question. I promise to think carefully before answering.”

"Okay. I wanted to know if you are okay with me calling you… mother?” The girl could feel a knot forming again in the pit of her stomach, and she prepared to run away at any moment.

Jihyo, for her part, remained silent for a few long seconds, contemplating her response. Then she brought Yunjin's hand up to her face and placed a small kiss on the girl's fingers. “Of course you can, but only on one condition.”

Yunjin's heart stopped for a second upon hearing the answer, but all happiness escaped upon knowing that there was a condition. Without really knowing what to think, she felt Jihyo turn to face her, and although Yunjin couldn't see her because of the darkness, she knew that Jihyo was looking directly into her eyes.

“You can call me mother only if you let me call you daughter.” Now Yunjin was about to suffer cardiac arrest. At this moment that conversation she had had with Chawon the same afternoon seemed so far away, she couldn't believe that it had been on the same day.

With a huge smile Yunjin approached and kissed Jihyo on the cheek. “Then we have a deal… Mother” She felt strange the first time she said it, the first time Yunjin called this woman mother, but at the same time she felt warm. The mere mention of the word manifested a deep connection between the two of them, which although it already existed. Now she was strengthened from one moment to the next.

Jihyo kissed her back by gently pressing her lips against Yunjin's forehead, like she had done so many times that day. “Now you should sleep, or Yunjae is going to scold me for keeping you up late.”

“If you don't tell him, he won't find out.”

“Smart girl, come here.” Jihyo pulled Yunjin close to her, in a warm hug. “I don't want the first thing I have to do as your mother is scolds you.”

"Goodnight mother." Yunjin responded between giggles, while she also hugged her mother.

"Good night, daughter." With a new kiss on Yunjin's forehead, both women prepared to sleep, this time for good. One next to the other, hugging each other. Finally Yunjin's heart was calm, and the girl managed to fall asleep with her head resting on Jihyo's chest.

The next morning they had breakfast together, laughing and trying not to think too much about all the bad things that had happened the day before. They also did not abuse the status they had both earned, after all Jihyo already used to call Yunjin “Honey” or “Dear” in an affectionate way. For her part, the girl was used to calling the woman by her first name, not because she was disrespectful because it had been Jihyo herself who asked her to do so.

After the lively breakfast Yunjin got ready to go to university, and Jihyo sat at her desk next to a steaming cup of coffee. The woman was still wearing her pajamas, but since she worked from home and she was the boss, there was no problem with that. When Yunjin came to say goodbye to her and announce that she was leaving, Jihyo was already immersed in reports and client orders. Even so, she took a minute to wish her daughter a happy day and say goodbye to her.

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

“You have the SD card with you, right?” Yunjin's eyes widened as her girlfriend opened the car’s door. It had been about half an hour since she left the house, and with all the hustle and bustle of the night before and the cheerful chatter of the morning Yunjin had completely forgotten about the SD card that contained their project. “You forgot itr!” Chaewon quickly accused her when she saw the expression on Yunjin’s face.

“A lot of things happened last night, don't scold me…” Yunjin pouted very sincerely, to which Chaewon responded by rolling her eyes.

“If you don't start the car now and we go back to your house to look for that memory, I'm going to accuse you of your father.”

“Why does everyone suddenly want to accuse me of my father?”

“Because you listen to him, and because you're a daddy's girl.” This time it was Yunjin who rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's words and the giggle that came after. But she ended up laughing with her.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Yunjin started the car and headed towards her home. The girl took advantage of the trip back home to update her girlfriend on the events of the previous night, or at least tell her everything as best she could considering that they were almost late for college. They were probably going to miss the first period of class, but that was better than arriving empty-handed at the project review.

Chaewon let her girlfriend talk while patting her thigh to try to comfort her. She would have liked to do more at that moment, but she was prevented by the fact that Yunjin was driving almost at excess speed and trying not to hit anyone. Fortunately they had the afternoon free, so she was sure that later she would have plenty of time to talk and comfort her properly.

“Do you at least remember where you put it?” Chaewon asked when they were outside the house.

“Yesssss, I already told you. It can only be in one place.” Yunjin almost ran out of the car and didn't even bother to turn off the engine, they wouldn't be there for more than a few minutes.

She was very sure that she had the damn memory with her before going to bed the night before, she was carrying it next to her phone. Which meant that Yunjin had most likely forgotten it on her father's nightstand, so it must still be there.

She quickly headed to Jihyo's office to let her know that she would go to the room to check if the memory was there, but Yunjin found the office empty. Maybe her mother had gotten up to use the bathroom, or she had had to go to the office for something important. Whatever the case Yunjin didn't have time for that now, so she abandoned the idea of telling Jihyo and preferred to just go see if she found the damn card.

Yunjin went up to the second floor and turning down the hallway she faced the door of the room where she had spent the previous night. Normally Yunjin didn't go in there if she didn't need to, but it was clear that this was an occasion where she did. So she opened the door and quickly entered her parents' room. So fast that she forgot to knock on the door in case Jihyo was in there. A mistake that Yunin instantly regretted, because what she saw left her frozen in the spot.

She saw Jihyo lying on the bed with her head hanging over the edge closest to the door, only this time the woman was completely naked. She didn't have any piece of clothing covering her body, and she certainly didn't need it for what she was doing. As Yunjin could tell.

Jihyo played with her heavy tits, which had certainly grown since she'd gotten pregnant, while her other hand held a wand vibrator to her crotch. The woman had her eyes tightly closed as she made small moans, which had surely been the reason why she did not hear Yunjin enter. Who was now gawking at her mother's naked body.

For some strange reason the sight of those huge tits, topped by large brown nipples, was triggering something in Yunjin. That added to the moans and as Jihyo's hips rose and her pussy lips opened in an attempt to engulf the head of the vibrator, all that together had begun to send a lot of blood to Yunjin crotch, where an erection was now forming. It was that or maybe it was the perfect mop of hair that hid Jihyo’s clitoris from Yunjin's view that was making her member throb. Maybe it was all of that combined or what had given the girl the fastest and most painful erection she had ever had in her life. Not even the many depraved things she had done with Chaewon had brought her to that point.

All of this happened in just a few seconds. In a fleeting moment that was interrupted when Jihyo massaged one of her nipples more than necessary, causing a stream of milk to fly that ended up right in Yunjin's face. The girl screamed out of pure instinct, thus interrupting her mother in that very private moment. Jihyo, for her part, opened her eyes wide and stared at Yunjin in shock, petrified in the mid of her movement. With her hips raised and the vibrator pressing against her vagina lips.

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi FAQ

Before you send an ask consider checking this FAQ! I'm trying to compile some of the most common questions I see in my notes and inbox. Feel free to send me an ask anyway if you find anything confusing!

But first just some things about asks... I read all of them and feel kinda bad when I don't respond but I can't really respond to everything so:

Most likely will respond:

Requests for sources/images

Requests for links to other posts

Questions about the story or characters (as long as they haven't been repeated in a short while)

Questions about my opinion on canon content/speculation based on canon

Most likely won't respond: (usually cause idk what to say to it)

Headcanons/Shipping

Jokes

Discourse/Rants

Questions that have been repeated in a short time

FAQ under the cut (there's spoilers)

FAQ

First of all just a disclaimer that I don't actually know everything I try to put sources on the posts but if you see anything wrong here please let me know!

Q: Where is this extra/information from?

A: Dungeon Meshi has several worldbuilding details and extra comics in different publications. You can check this post with the places where the extras/information sources

If you wanna know the source for a specific extra don't be afraid to ask!

Q: Have you ever posted about [subject]

A: I haven't posted about everything related to dungeon meshi but please check my pinned post! I have a list of tags there, if you don't find specifically what you were looking try to search for it on my blog, I do my best to tag stuff so it can be found. If you still have trouble just send me an ask and I can link you the tag!

Q: How old is Thistle?

A: Who knows! Mostly likely he's under 80 (16 in tallmen years) my best guess is that he's 14.

Q: Is there a post Canon Melini Map?

A: Not really (Spoilers)

Q: Isn't Izutsumi a cat that was transformed into a human?

A: That's not a very accurate description, Izutsumi is a beastkin who was created using ancient magic by fusing the soul of a 6 year old child with the soul of a cat monster known as a greater cat. She's not "A cat that was turned into a human" nor a "human that was turned into a cat" as my understanding goes she was both and now she's still both, spoilers but the plot twist of the Lycion extra is that she can never be fully human again (there's more monster than human so she can't transform between the forms like Lycion)

I made a few posts about it

Q: Are fairies made of Jizz? How do females make them? How come Mithrun's doesn't look like him? Can other races make them?

A: Yes. They probably borrow some. Another person feeds it blood. Probably? For better answers please check the fairy tag LOL

Q: Are there monsters outside dungeons?

A: All points to yes, dungeons just seem to have a higher density of mana which allows more monsters to survive in a higher population.

Q: Is resurrection possibly in any dungeons or only in The Island?

A: According to the adventurer's bibles most man-made dungeons have the revival magic active. Here's a post all about resurrection and healing magic:

Q: Why did Fleki get brain damage when her Familiar got destroyed and Marcille didn't?

A: Probably has something to do with the complexity of the familiar and the strength of the connection, lots of people sent some theories pleas check the familiars tag if you wanna read up.

Q: What does the tattoos mean? What do Magic Tattoos do? Only beastmen have tattoos?

A: Those are Magic Tattoos, they work as a supplement for magic, I assume similar to magic circles or magic runes they use in other places in the anime, they aren't necessarily only for beastmen

Q: How does Mana/The Winged Lion/Dungeons work? (and related questions)

A: I made a post about dungeons you might wanna check, haven't done specific posts for the greater demon/winged lion but you can check the tags for some theories/other asks!

I think that's it for now? I'll add more things later if I see more common questions

Mini FAQ about the person running this blog (cause I get a couple of questions sometimes)

Q: Whats your pronouns? Are you brazilian? What do I call you?

A: There's a tiny about me section at the end of my pinned post I'd rather you use she/her or he/him, but they/them is fine, I'm very brazilian and you can call me whatever, Cyan is just a suggestion. You can also check this side blog, it's me

Q: What do you think about [headcanon]/[ship]

A: I probably think it's neat but cant elaborate cause either I'm being socially anxious or I'm afraid of saying something that will generate discourse on my notes LOL

Q: Could you tag [thing]

A: Yes! Please tell me if you'd like me to tag something, both cws or just something you think would be useful to search for. I'm very unaware of what can be upsetting ngl so I often forget to tag 'obvious' triggers, I'm also forgetful and have trouble expressing myself, so feel free to tell me if I said something weird but be nice pwease

[sleepy-wyvern]

Method Acting | Jack Champion x female!Reader

First pic jacks insta, Second pic

Available on: AO3, Wattpad

Summary: You’re an actress playing Ethan Landry's lover so you and Jack Champion start “fake dating” to help your role for Scream 6. Although you detest the idea of love you can’t help but start falling for his charm. At what point is it real, what is fake, and what is acting? Surely he can’t feel the same way… right?

A/N: This fic is intended to be a romance for my babes depressed you can’t be with your favorite celebrity right now, who are so in love with them it hurts. This fic does not contain descriptive sex scenes but does contain descriptive make out! There are clear references to sex as they film a sex scene!

Dedication: This fic is dedicated to (and inspired by a prompt from) my loyal reader over on ao3, Vanttier. Thanks for all of the comments without you I wouldn't be so motivated to write💙

Disclaimer: All characters sharing names with real people in this work are fictional characters I created and are not intended to reflect the views/opinions/actions of the real actors. I know absolutely nothing about acting or movie making so this is all improvised and likely not accurate at all. The point isn’t to be accurate but just for fun so please be gentle 💙

NOTICE: This fic is based off of the Love Interest, you don't have to read it to understand this fic but this fic contains spoilers for that one, so if you want to read an overprotective!ethan landry x female!reader go check that out out first on AO3 or Wattpad!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS FIC ARE 18+!!! MINORS DNI!

“Jack Champion,” the name hummed over and over in your head. He was the one to play the role of your lover and today you were to meet him.

To be honest you weren’t sure that you ever wanted to play a part in a cheesy romance movie. Horror had your heart and you were such a big fan of scream that it was impossible to turn down the role. That and your manager would have your ass for turning down such a legendary role most would only ever dream of. 

You weren’t sure how you felt going from a nobody actor to an A-list movie star overnight practically. It really wasn’t something you ever thought of. Sure you dreamt of it from time to time, especially when you were little and your mother held you by the hand to bring you to various auditions as a child. You never thought it would actually happen and never really desired it either. You had fun acting and being in movies bringing characters to life but you were content with just enough to get by. 

The only problem with this gig was it was a romantic role and you despised the concept of love. What was the point of it and why was the world so obsessed with it? When all love stories end in tragedy if you wait long enough.

Still, a role was a role. You’ve kissed people on set for movies before with small relationships on screen but never the main romantic protagonist. Especially for being the first movie protagonist without Neve Campbell there were big shoes to fill and surely your social media would be flooded with hate and undesired criticism. Frankly, you would’ve turned down the role in a heartbeat if it wasn’t your favourite franchise.

Anyways, today was the day you were to meet Jack, running through your lines together in the first scene where your character meets his; Ethan Landry. Nerdy cute boy who held a deep dark secret.

Jack was the same age as you, 18, but he had practically grown up on set, and while you were familiar with it since a child you had mainly worked on smaller, more indie films until somehow being noticed. So it was more than a little daunting to meet him, compared to you he was a professional. So were you nervous to meet him? More than a little.

You practically held your breath as the door opened, doing your best to keep looking at your lap as he stepped through the door. How long should I wait until looking…? You wondered.

“Jack,” the script-manager stood to their feet, going to meet him. 

You stood to your feet allowing yourself to give him a glance over while he was shaking hands. You’ve seen him in photos where he looked pretty much like a generic gym guy. In person though he was much softer. He looked nerdy and cute with his curly fluffy hair but clearly his toned frame underneath made you feel a little intimidated. First impressions were important, especially with your destined lover. 

You fluttered your eyelashes a little shy as his brown eyes looked into yours. The moment he spoke you realized that despite your nerves he was adorable and sweet, seemingly awkward but that just added to it.

“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Jack.” The words were simple but as he held his hand out to yours his voice seemed to hum through your body. 

Your eyes catch for a moment on the metal chain around his neck as you move your hand to his. His grip was just firm enough as if he noticed how timid you were. 

His eyes seemed to shine in the light while you spoke “Hey, I’m y/n but you probably already know that.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you wonder if you unintentionally came off way too cocky. He seemed to find it amusing though as he let out a small chuckle. 

The director seemed to find this a good sign as they glanced between us “good, you’re acquainted. Are you ready?”

It dawned on you again that this was the guy you were going to be having to do sex scenes with. 

“Yeah, I think so,” his voice answered and you were too afraid that if you tried to speak a squeak would come out of your throat instead. 

“Don’t worry,” his voice was softer than you expected, he must've noticed your nerves. “I don’t bite.”

“But do you stab?” You found yourself wide eyed and he laughed; the sound hummed through your entire body again, swirling around your heart like silk.

“Sometimes,” he replied slyly and you mirrored his smile, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a black Stabathon shirt that seemed to frame his body perfectly.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on the character you were to play. She was meant to reflect on the average female viewer of the movie and an insertion of the average scream horror fan. It was a total “I can fix him” plot line with a cheesy romance of a girl stopping a boy from being a mass murderer. Completely unrealistic and if anything just plain bad advice, if you felt like living anyways. Still, you liked her and her strength in the script especially towards the end.

Your nerves were still fluttering when you sat across from Jack at the table. You didn’t realize how tightly you held the paper script until you noticed there were wrinkles in the corners. 

Relax, y/n. Nothing you haven’t done before and nothing you can’t handle.

Amongst all of the stress with Jack you almost forgot your other co stars were there too including Devyn. She was to be Anika, your Instagram model roommate. Essentially the polar opposite of who you were to play; you were someone who wore horror movie shirts and ripped jeans while she was always trendy. You were thankful for the comfortable wardrobe at least. Even though your characters were totally different, you grew together that way encouraging growth and adventure.

“Hey, y/n,” Devyn had a sweet smile and comforting aura about her that you enjoyed. 

“Hey,” you smiled softly. 

“Ready?” Jack asked. He was looking at you intently and you forgot how to form words for a second. 

Devyn glanced between you both and it took all of your willpower to not blush. It felt like everyone at the table was thinking about the same thing: the fact that you two were going to have to have sex together. 

You nod though with wide scared eyes “as I’ll ever be.”

Devyn laughed leaning over to touch your arm gently. 

Someone read out loud the setting and you weren’t sure who. Your eyes were reading your first line over and over in your head. When it came your turn to speak though the words came easy. At least with Devyn aka Anika it had. She made it feel like you were already best friends and roommates. She suggested you room together too to help even further. 

The wandering thoughts somehow helped distract you from the guy sitting across from you, puzzling over his script like it was a crossword. It took all of your strength to ignore the way his muscles flexed when he moved.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. There will be lots of boys there.” Devyns voice next to you piped up “you like boys right?”

“Sometimes,” you said with a sly undertone the exact way Jack had said to you earlier. The idea had popped into your head the moment before you said your line, and although you were looking at Devyn you felt him look up from his script with a smile.

While you did take the tone and attitude from him, it was your head-canon that your character was bisexual even though the line likely just meant that she wasn’t interested in the types of boys these parties attracted.

The next lines seemed to come more naturally as you played off one another. She was the encouraging roommate trying to get the shy one to go with her to the party. Really Anika was a great friend to your character and you admired that, perhaps wished you had it yourself.

When you reach the scene where you both pour a glass of alcohol you find yourself wishing you had one, knowing it was soon to be the first dialogue between you and Jack. 

You effortlessly deterred the fuckboy in the script that was later to harass Tara when you found your heart started to race, pounding louder and louder in your eardrums.

“What kind of boys do you like then?” Anika asked. 

“Cute, nerdy, fluffy haired boys,” you answered. The words came naturally because it was true for you too. You avoided looking across the table. 

“Ah, the first murder suspects.” She replied and you wondered how your character didn’t take the hint then and there. “Well, let’s drink to you finding a boyfriend. Or at least some good dick.”

She held up her water bottle to you and you laughed genuinely, doing the same as you clinked your bottles. 

“Perfect,” the script director commented while you drank. 

Out of the corner of your eye though as you drank you met his gaze, forgetting your unspoken rule to not look across the table. Brown and soft, his eyes made you feel like there was no one else in the room except you both. Your heart seemed to catch in your throat as he smiled softly. 

Too quickly the moment had passed though as someone’s voice narrating the scene popped the bubble you shared together. You looked down at your script biting your lip knowing what was to come. 

Jasmin had spoken up for her first dialogue with you as Mindy. Her voice was very different when she acted, more confident and cocky as her character was especially about horror movies. You knew your character couldn’t compete with her on trivia but she had the same adoration for horror. The lines of your shy character came easy, especially with your genuine discomfort with romantic relationships. 

But now you knew it was time. Your first lines with Jack.

While Anika and Mindy have their playful conversation you imagine being there at the party. Loud sounds, people talking, constant movements and noise. Usually you would try to avoid letting yourself feel this anxious but it was important for the script. 

You imagined yourself flopping against the old college couch as the script manager narrated.

Jack's voice was suddenly different, softer this time and more nervous as he looked at you but not into your eyes as if suddenly nervous. 

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere than here,” he said with a cautious smile. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not far off.” Part of you wondered if you were having a real conversation or were acting. “I’d rather be watching scary movies. I'm only here because Anika invited me,” and because your manager would kill you if you turned down this opportunity. 

“Me too,” his eyes sparkled as he looked at you before glancing down to his lap “oh, uh, I mean about the scary movie part.”

“Oh yeah?” Despite your character's confidence you felt your arms start to shake, trying your best to suppress it. “What one’s?”

You found yourself leaning across the table pressing your elbows into the sturdy wood to hide your shaking. You held your head in your hands as if actually on a date with him, curiosity mixed with shyness. A date with Jack Champion…

“Slashers,” he admitted, only making careful glances into your eyes as his character Ethan would. Jack gestured to his Stabathon shirt playfully and it took all of your being to not giggle. 

You channel your laughter into excitement for your line “I love slashers! They’re like my comfort movies.”

Somehow, some way, he started to make you feel more comfortable just sitting here talking to him. 

“I would’ve panned you for more a Quentin Tarantino fan,” he admitted and you remembered you were supposed to be dressed as Mia Wallace.

“Oh don’t worry, I am. D’Jango? Kill Bill? How could I not be!” You exclaimed “you have me there. Slashers though, they have my heart, truly. Just I couldn’t turn down an opportunity to dress as Uma Thurman.”

“Understandable, pulp fiction is what really got me into movies.” He smiled looking into your eyes the steadiest he has since reading the script. “What’s your favourite slasher?”

“Hmm, I have to say stab.” When you answer Jack's face turns into surprise and shock as he gestured playfully to his shirt again. 

“Really?” He says with eyebrows raised and you swallow your laughter. 

Talking to him was so… natural. So fun as you bounced off of each other's lines so effortlessly. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought it would be. 

In fact when the narrator started reading the scuffle between Sam and the fuckboy you started looking forward to more small talk with him, something you normally dreaded.

“Hey,” you whisper to Jack loud enough for the others to hear. He leaned forward across the table playfully as if to listen to your secret “uh, how about that movie?”

Mason, who played Chad, looked at Jack with an impressed gasp. Devyn did the same to you but hers was more shock that melted into approval.

“Y-yeah, I’d love to,” for some reason hearing Jack stutter made something stir in your stomach.

That’s when you realize the racing in your heart, the way your cheeks heated when you looked at him and the light fuzzy feeling in your stomach. 

No. No way I was in love with Jack Champion. No, no, no, no. Your thoughts buzz and spiral as you recite your lines. This can’t be happening.

“Wonderful,” the director praised as the scene ended, “If I didn’t know any better I could’ve sworn you were actually nervous with a crush on Jack,” he chuckled.

You felt Jack’s brown eyes on you as you looked at the director, swallowing hard before you spoke “thanks. I practiced.”

CONTINUE READING ON: AO3, Wattpad

===

Thanks so much for reading, read the rest over on AO3 or wattpad!

Hope you enjoyed and had a great day my lovely reader!

-Wyv

💙💙💙💙

[eatingfireflies]

I want to talk about this thing

And I have a proposal:

The name of Dr Ratio's warp event is connected to this and, incidentally, Aventurine

Disclaimer: 1) I'm not normal or rational about Dr Ratio. 2) The conclusion is supported only by the English translation as far as I know. 3) Maybe the conclusion is a bit of a leap but I'm serious about everything else.

Let's go!

The conversation Aventurine and Acheron had towards the end is probably up there with End of Evangelion for me in terms of comforting. There's something comforting about Acheron's Nihility because there's still a drop of colour in there and she thinks it's enough. It's the kind of emptiness that accepts anything and don't we all need a little black hole to chuck all our worries into? 🥲

Before the 'grand finale', Aventurine says that sleep is a rehearsal of death. After his death, Acheron agrees and adds that we sleep in order to prepare for the real thing.

And then Aventurine asks her a question:

And Acheron's answer is: this isn't true and Aventurine knows this himself. We don't get born to die. There's no reason for being born, just like there is no meaning in life.

(There's only chance. In stories, things happen for a reason but life isn't story-shaped.)

So: there is no meaning in life. But the way we live our lives gives meaning to our deaths.

Then she tells him to look at his pocket because his friend has already given him the answer.

And I was like 'Finally !! I've been waiting for this reveal!' because what can be said at this moment that could help Aventurine?

There are 2 phases in his plan:

1) Prove that death is possible in the dreamland. Since all the visitors in Penacony are protected by Harmony, this is pretty hard to do but not impossible. We know other people have done it before. Aventurine uses Acheron the emanator of Nihility to cut through the Harmony protection and finish him off.

And Aventurine wins his wager! But the plan doesn’t end there.

2) Move forward to the Real Penacony somehow and investigate the truth about the Watchmaker. And then figure out how to come back. Which honestly sounds like a tall order, but what else can Aventurine do?

Well, he can stop at phase 1.

Acheron says that the conclusion of phase 1 is a win-win situation for the IPC, which is true. Aventurine's death will give the IPC a reason to investigate Penacony and the Family. We know Jade and the others aren't even allowed to go into the dreamscape, but with the death of the IPC envoy, they'll have the right to make some demands from the Family.

If Aventurine stops here, he still would have won.

We know from his conversation with his future self that he's tired and ready to stop. He wants to come home and be with his family.

Aventurine is pretty much a mess: he's a child blessed by Gaiathra Triclops, which gives him godly luck. This luck has prevented him from dying countless times before (even the times when he was actually fine with it). He wants to die but also he's terrified of... dying?

Truly embodying the 'Why is it so hard to die, so impossible to live?'* vibe.

(*From Tanith Lee's The Secret Books of Paradys 1, if you're interested)

Or maybe more accurately, he's terrified of losing everything just like he did in Sigonia. You can look at it in 2 ways: without Mama Fenge's blessing, Kakavasha would have died with the rest of the Avgin. Or Kakavasha's luck came at the expense of literally everything he holds dear.

With Acheron's help, he has finally achieved the death his own luck has been protecting him from. So why should he move forward?

Well, let's see what Acheron meant when she said Aventurine's friend has the answer.

And I... have no idea.

The underlying message here is easy enough to understand: Acheron has already answered Aventurine's question. He can move forward and keep living because that's what will give his eventual death more meaning. But hearing this from Acheron is a bit of a cold comfort: she accepts everything and also views everything impartially.

Ratio's note is a reminder to Aventurine that someone in the waking world is personally invested in Aventurine's well-being. Not because of what Aventurine can do for the IPC (as a consultant, I assume Ratio gets paid whether Aventurine succeeds or not, but also Aventurine has already succeeded with Phase 1).

And not because Ratio gets anything out of it... well, the Stellaron files maybe? But he already has that. Or whatever it is he went to Penacony for, because the two of them are being cagey about it.

Whatever it is, Ratio has already gotten what he wanted. This note is an extra then, something that he gave Aventurine because he wanted to.

I'll come back to what I think he meant, but I need to talk about the Jp translation (sorry I know I should check the original Cn instead but I don't know Cn at all 😭 it's hard enough for me to catch the nuance in Jp let alone a language I can't parse at all), because the word used is different and this is why I'm unsure.

Post by a Jp user about Ratio's note. I can't post a screencap because there's no more space 🥹 But here's the text:

「処方箋」

夢の中で不可能なのは「死」ぬことではなく、「熟睡」することだ。 生きろ。幸運を祈る。

In this note, Ratio uses 熟睡 (jukusui), which means deep sleep. This is deep uninterrupted sleep, the kind that you wake up from feeling refreshed. Or the kind that you have when you take sleep meds. Or the kind that you have when you're contented with your life and not burdened with ambition or anxieties or curiosity.

I don't know.

We know that it's possible to sleep in the dreamscape because Ratio wakes Aventurine up in the beginning of the quest. At the very least, he seemed to be dreaming so I assume he was asleep? And they seem to be in the dreamscape because there's an origami bird tail behind him... except Dr Blues also appears in reality so maybe we can't rule anything out just yet.

I'm not 100% sure what Ratio means about 熟睡. But what about 'Dormancy'?

This is easier. The disclaimer here is I'm not a big fan of the English translation in general (especially the way Dr Ratio was translated in English) but I'll let myself have this.

Dormancy is (thank you wiki) a period in an organism's life cycle when growth, development, and (in animals) physical activity are temporarily stopped. It's also connected to 'deep sleep'. Hey, we're getting somewhere!

Basically, hibernation. Ratio seems to be confirming what we already know: the dream is falling apart because everything in the universe will succumb to Nihility in the end. Maybe the dream was created to preserve a memory (just like how the IPC was preserving Chadwick's memory in Penacony), but the dream is also starting to crumble.

Maybe this isn't the most comforting thing to tell Aventurine, but it does confirm what he probably already suspected (about the truth behind Penacony) and it also tells him that change is constant. Moving forward means he could potentially get out of a situation he doesn't like.

And he does move forward. He tells his past self that there will come a time in the future when he'll come home to his family, but not now. For now he can keep changing and making his own meaning.

Dr Ratio's warp banner is called Panta rhei. 'Everything flows', which says that things are always in a state of flux (change). For example, you can't step into the same river twice because the water is moving and is constantly getting replaced (thanks again, wiki). This is the same about humans: we are always changing both physically and mentally. We both are and are not (wiki again).

Doesn’t it sound like what he said in his doctor's prescription?

[comikadraws]

does sakuras (rather unhealthy) fixation on sasuke count as loving a shadow? because sasuke and sakura never really had a proper friendship or bond and sakura hardhlyif not knows anything about sasuke

I personally think so!

Sakura is "Loving a Shadow"

For reference, "loving a shadow" is a trope in which a character falls in love with another character not for loving them as a person but for loving what that person represents. It can be a character trait, their looks, or even the idea of being in love itself.

But also, Sakura is not a favorite of mine, hence I never paid as much attention to her. Analyzing her from start to finish would require a full re-read of Naruto, which I really just don't have the time or energy for. So don't take my thoughts to heart or expect them to accurately reflect her character.

DISCLAIMER: I will only use information from the manga in this post!

Sakura's Love as a Preteen

Sasuke is Sakura's first crush. She is a preteen and my interpretation is that she doesn't have a very elaborate idea of how a romantic relationship works - only what they should look like. So instead of searching for intimacy and partnership, she searches for a symbol of such. Those symbols (first kisses and flirting) are what she fantasizes about in chapter 3 of the manga.

This is also reflected in her approaches. Instead of establishing an emotional connection, her goal is to win Sasuke's attention via physical appeal, not even considering that she herself could rather offer her own attention in the form of genuine care and empathy. Again, she doesn't seem to know what to expect from a relationship - and especially not a relationship with Sasuke.

As a result, Sakura doesn't actually know much about who Sasuke is as a person. So when she gossips about Naruto and his lack of parents, she seems completely unaware of the fact that Sasuke is an orphan, too, unintentionally insulting him.

This is not necessarily a fault of her own alone but also because Sasuke is a very closed-off person who doesn't reveal a lot about himself (probably due to his trauma). This idea is supported by both chapter 4 and chapter 181 (the panel for that later). This makes getting to know him genuinely hard no matter whether Sakura is interested in learning about him or not.

But still, Sakura doesn't seem to express curiosity about Sasuke as a person either way. When Sasuke explains that he has sworn to kill someone, indicating a history between himself and that person, Sakura's reaction doesn't go beyond a "he is so cool". Sakura doesn't see the history behind Sasuke. She doesn't even question it. She only recognizes a surface-level character trait.

Sakura's Development

I am not going over the entirety of the Naruto manga now, but it is entirely possible that she grew out of her surface-level crush eventually. We get signs of that sort of development in chapter 181 where Sakura expresses a clear desire to learn about Sasuke as a person.

Not that this desire ever goes anywhere as her understanding of Sasuke and his past is still very basic, to the point that she believes her loneliness (unrequited love) is comparable to that of Sasuke (being the survivor of a genocide). A completely disproportionate comparison. Furthermore, while she does care about Sasuke's well-being, her core motivation seems to be his presence in her life.

Again, it is not like she is really to blame for not understanding Sasuke. Nobody does at this point in the story. Even Naruto, who is one of the most empathetic characters in the manga, doesn't understand Sasuke and instead prioritizes his own feelings of loneliness over Sasuke's trauma and desires.

Beyond this, Sakura expresses an interest in Sasuke's life every now and then in part 2. She takes the initiative to learn about Sasuke and understand what happened to him and what drives him.

But then again, as we can see at the end of the manga, she is still very focused on her own relationship with Sasuke rather than his desires or even just Sasuke's relationship with the entirety of Team 7. Her own feelings take priority. This might indicate that Sakura's love could still be part of her longing for Sasuke as a partner rather than Sasuke as a person.

Post Marriage

Whether or not those patterns persist into her adulthood and marriage, I do not know (mainly because I haven't read the Boruto manga). The stakes are different once they are married, giving Sakura a sense of safety in her relationship and erasing the need to beg and plead with him. On top of that, we don't know how their relationship came to be in the first place and which hurdles had to be overcome.

What we do know, however, is that Sakura seems to be far less desperate for symbols of affection than previously. She still seeks them, but she can do without them. She understands that love is a connection of hearts and not necessarily how you express that love. Personally, I interpret this as Sakura also accepting that Sasuke might have a different love language than her and that he is more of a tease rather than someone who openly shows affection.

Sasuke's departure in Gaiden contrasts with Sasuke's departures in part 1 and 2 of Naruto. Sakura is no longer begging Sasuke to stay. Instead, she understands his reasoning and is accepting of his absence.

Well, either that or neither Sasuke nor Sakura are happy with this marriage, both of them having their needs neglected. But I prefer living in a world in which Kishimoto is simply just that bad at writing romance and thinks that physical presence and spending time with each other is not at all necessary for a functioning relationship.

Either way, Sakura's love for Sasuke, in its earlier stages, can definitely be considered "loving a shadow" as Sakura is more fixated on the idea of having a "cool, handsome boyfriend" rather than learning about him and forming a genuine connection. However, she matures and begins to learn about and appreciate Sasuke as a person. Whether or not this knowledge and appreciation goes far enough is ambiguous, however.

[l8rs-gat0rs]

Okay I literally just found your account with your post talking about Billie in SWARM I WEN ABSOLUTELY FERAL YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SHE IS ETHREAL

…okay anyways I have a request

So what if you end at the group’s house and you get the counseling cause like you have bad anxiety and social anxiety and you just push everyone away and run from your problems so that’s essentially how you end up at the house. And then you end up wanting to leave like Dre did but it’s because you don’t think that they can help you. BUT Eva convinces you to stay and like you slowly fall in love…or something..maybe add some smut. Literally add anything you want I am just so excited to read it♥️

Save Me From Myself

Pairing: Eva x Female reader

Wow thank you so so much for this request! I actually have social anxiety so I am excited to write about it. Also trust me, I went feral too. She is definitely ethereal. The sexual tension she had with Dre was crazyyyy and she's such a good actress, the micro expressions and everything really got me. I didn't put smut into it only because it feels more like a soft fluff story that doesn't really need any smut, so I hope you're okay with that :)

Warning(s): angst, social anxiety, general anxiety, slow burn, y/n use

summary: You have social anxiety and Eva has been helping you with it. After messing up a game of Twister, you feel like you can't be helped so you decide to leave. Eva stops you from leaving, which leads to a confession...

Word count: 2k

Disclaimer: I have never talked to a therapist abt my anxiety or social anxiety at all, so If some things aren't accurate I apologize, but I'm just writing down what I have experienced and how I interpret it.

Special thanks to @hereforthepoet for helping me with this fic :)

~~~~Happy Reading!~~~~

You lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the story of how you ended up here over and over again in your head.

Eva had found you when you were a blushing, stuttering mess trying to speak to the waitress in a restaurant.

Were you blushing out of embarrassment? Yeah.

Anxiety? Yeah.

Because she was hot? Absolutely.

Eva smiled at you when you looked up from your head in your hands and made eye contact with her while she was sitting at a table facing you.

You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands because yet another hot woman had seen you embarrass yourself.

When you looked back up you jumped a little, seeing as Eva was now right in front of you.

The two of you had food together, Eva noticing your stuttering, rambling and fidgeting with your rings. The tell-tale signs of your anxiety.

You told her about how you managed to push everyone in your family away after your parents died, you were an only child so there weren't many people to push away, but still.

You lived by yourself in a tiny apartment, you were thinking about getting a cat, but then, Eva invited you back here with promises to help with your anxiety.

But here you were, in the bed, Eva had lent to you.

You felt like a lost cause, all the other girls in the group had shown major signs of progress over the course of a few weeks, but you were still here, holed up in your room because you could barely even talk to the girls, despite the fact it had been almost a month already and you have had numerous sessions with Eva.

You heard a knock on the door and you mustered a small "Come in."

You looked up and saw Eva walking through the door, causing your heart to race.

Come on y/n, don't embarrass yourself in front of her for the 10,000th time, please.

"Hey y/n, why aren't you out there with the rest of the girls, we're playing twister right now."

Don't stutter.

"Oh- uh, I don't know, I'm don't-

wait. I mean I don't-

I- I'm NOT feeling that great, I guess."

Jesus Christ.

She looked at you for a moment before walking closer to your bed and sitting down on the corner of it, by your thighs.

"Remember what I told you during our last session y/n?" Eva started, as she leaned over you, bracing herself up with one hand on the other side of your thighs, and using the other to check your temperature.

Your brain short-circuited as soon as you felt her skin against yours.

"I told you, the reason you stutter is that you either rehearse what you are going to say over and over in your head before saying it, or you think so fast that the words mess up when you try to say them out loud. Either way, you need to focus on what you want to say rather than thinking of all the ways you could say what you want to say."

"Yeah, I know..." Uou muttered.

"Well how can you be working on it when you don't even hang out with the rest of the girls?" Eva smiled patiently.

"I'm working on it, I just..." You trailed off, looking anywhere but Eva's eyes.

"Hey, eyes," Eva said, causing your eyes to immediately shoot to hers.

"Good girl. Now, why don't you come out of your room and join us." Eva got up from the bed and held her hand out for you to take it.

Your stomach turned at the Praise but you ignored it.

You took Eva's hand and picked yourself out of bed.

Eva didn't let go of your hand as she led you out to the living room. You willed your hand not to get sweaty.

"Hey guys, look who's here!" Eva announced to the group.

"Woooo y/n!" Cricket cheered while holding the spinner.

"Come, join us!" Isis urged, smiling at you from under Salem's arm.

You looked at Eva uncertainty, but she just gave you a patient smile and nodded, urging you to join them.

"Uhh, yeah, sure." You nodded, looking back at the pile of girls twisted around the mat.

Your heart started to beat rapidly.

Come on y/n, you cant be the one to fuck up the whole game.

Don't lose, don't lose, don't lose....

"Okay y/n, let's spin for you."

"Right leg green!"

You moved your right leg to the open green dot.

"Eva, want to join?" Cricket asked as she spun the spinner.

"Nah, I'm good. I like to watch" Eva said with a smirk.

You shivered at her words even though it was a normal comment.

Jesus Christ y/n get a grip. She's your mentor.

But she had also been the one holding your hand through the entire process of trying to get over your anxieties.

Did you have feelings for her?

"Left foot red" Cricket called out to Grace.

"Don't fuck it up!" Audrey laughed, balancing on one hand.

"Shut up!" Grace responded playfully, before carefully placing her foot down.

"Bam!" She cheered, causing the other girls to giggle.

You smiled a little but the tension would not leave your chest as the game continued.

The girls keep playing as normal, each taking their sweet time moving to their respective places while the others urge them to hurry up. You're trying to focus, to stay present, to participate...but all you can think of is the loud beating of your heart. How the girls' laughter fades and your consciousness seems to trade places with your subconscious; "They're only letting you play out of pity." "You need to leave before you embarrass yourself." "You look ridiculous standing like this and they know it, they're all thinking it." You vaguely hear directions for someone's turn being called but there's a water-like roaring in your ears and your palms are sweaty and-and-and-

"Y/n!? Right hand yellow?"

"What?"

You can't think slow enough, you can't move fast enough, your body is shaking and- 

Everyone's falling. A twisted mess of loud laughing bodies and you can't breathe.

"Y/n? Are you okay? Breathe!" You hear Eva say.

You shoot up from the pile of girls and suddenly the laughter has died and they're all looking at you with concerned expressions.

Staring.

They think you're pathetic.

You're so embarrassing.

"I can't do this anymore!" You suddenly shout through your heavy breathing.

"Woah, it's okay y/n-" Cricket starts, putting the twister spinner down.

"No, it's not! Look at all of you! You're getting better every day. But me? I'm hopeless. I can't even play a game of twister without fucking it up! I can't stay here any longer. I've overstayed my welcome and I can't be helped. I'm too broken." You said before turning away from them.

You heard the girls start to protest and get up but out of the corner of your eye you saw Eva shush them and make them sit back down. Tears started spilling from your eyes and you ran to your room.

When you got to your room, you took your suitcase out of your closet and opened it on your bed.

You started to pack when you heard Eva's hurried footsteps approach your door.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" She said sadly.

"I'm leaving. I can't stay here anymore" you were unable to look at her so you continued quickly packing.

"Hey. Stop." Eva said as she gently stopped you from going over to your suitcase with the clothes in your hand.

You stopped and looked down at the floor, still unable to look at her.

"Look at me. I wanna see those gorgeous eyes." She gently grabbed your chin and turned your face to look at her.

"Here, give me those," she took the clothes from your hands and put them on the other bed that was next to yours.

"Sit." She guided you to sit down next to where she left your clothes.

You sat down and took a shuddering breath in as tears continued to fall and your lip quivered as you silently cried.

"You're even gorgeous when you cry." Eva smiled, causing you to let out a choked laugh as you tried to halt your tears.

"You're just saying that" You felt your face heating up.

"No, I'm not. don't degrade yourself like that. You are truly beautiful, and I'll keep saying it till it gets through your pretty little head." She got on her knees in front of you and put her hands on your thighs.

You looked down at her hands on your thighs, hyper-aware of her touch.

"Y/n please don't leave." Eva spoke up somberly.

You looked back to her eyes before responding.

"I- I can't Eva. My thoughts are so confused a-and I can't be helped. I don't deserve to stay here." You sniffed as your tears subsided.

"That's not true! Everyone is able to be helped, some people just have a longer process than others. Also, even with all the facts considered, you're here because I want you to be, not because you're a patient or something." Eva explained.

"Yeah, I guess...but I'm still...c-confused." You internally cursed yourself for stuttering and you looked down back to her hands that were still on your thighs.

"About what?" She smiled softly.

You sighed heavily trying not to stutter.

But of course, you did.

"Y-" You sighed in annoyance as Eva looked at you expectantly.

"Y- You!" You managed to get out, causing Eva to let out a laugh.

"You're confused about me?" She asked with a smirk.

"Yes! Why is that funny!?" You huffed.

She laughed a little again before responding.

"It's not, it's not, Why are you confused about me?" She asked you curiously.

"Well, I- I don't know. Just...my feelings towards you..." You said more quietly.

Eva's hands rode a little higher on your thighs causing your eyes to widen for a second before you steeled your expression.

"And what are you currently feeling towards me?" Eva asked, staring down at your lips.

"Attraction" You breathed out, getting lost in the way she looked at your lips.

"And, that's a bad thing?" She smirked, her eyes looking back up to yours.

"I- I mean no! But like, you're my mentor or whatever. I shouldn't be feeling attracted to you. Right?" You backtracked.

"Who said that?" She laughed.

Wait, that's true...

"Uhhh, no one I guess. It just- I don't know I thought it might be wrong or something. You never dated anyone else here." You gestured to the door.

"Who says I didn't?" Eva smirked once again.

"O-Oh! I'm sorry I didn't mean to assume!" Your eyes widened.

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Eva smiled.

"S-so, who was it?" You said quietly after nodding.

"Isis, it wasn't very long though. We both decided we were better as friends" Eva shrugged.

"Oh, I see." You said, mulling over all the interaction you've seen Eva had with Isis.

"But back to your feelings?" Eva urged you to continue with her brows raised and a questioning tone.

"I guess, over my time here I've been slowly falling for you and...I've tried to suppress it, but I guess, the feelings have always been there, bubbling up,"

You sighed once again before continuing.

"I mean, I don't know... You're just so...." You started, before looking at Eva and feeling your face heat up.

"Go onnnn." Eva urged.

"Hot." You ended quietly.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you!" Eva said loudly.

"Oh shut u-"

Before you could finish your reflexive response, or even have time to be anxious about it, Eva pushed up off her knees and kissed you.

You were shocked at first but you quickly closed your eyes and melted into her lips.

You couldn't lie and say you hadn't thought of kissing her multiple times.

Once Eva pulled away she sat back onto her knees.

"I can't lie, I've thought about kissing you so many times." She let out a breathy laugh.

"Woah did you just read my mind?" You pulled back shocked.

"What?" She looked confused.

"Nevermind,"

You shook your head before continuing,

"Okay, back to kissing."

"I think..." You added shyly.

[jrob64]

Ghosted

Chapter 2 - All-Nighter

Thank you for the great response to this story! I'm very happy to be able to post chapter 2 somewhat quickly. Chapter 3 is more than halfway written, so you shouldn't have to wait long for it either. I still don't know if it will be the final chapter, or if there will be one more after that.

A big thank you and long-distance hugs to my wonderful beta @hookedmom; the people responsible for the fantastic pic set @kmomof4 & @motherkatereloyshipper; and my fellow mods of the CSSNS24 @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @winterbaby89 & @kmomof4. You're all very special to me!

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures and a bit of research I did. I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works, so please excuse all errors. Keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (chapter 2): 7238

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

*********

Killian didn’t see Emma for the next two days, and since she hadn’t called him, he assumed she didn’t have any more encounters with Neal Cassidy’s ghost. When he finally ran into her in the hallway, he was immediately concerned.

She looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. It was understandable, of course. Anyone who witnessed a paranormal apparition firsthand was almost guaranteed to have trouble sleeping.

He called out a greeting to her and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Swan, are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I…I’m just tired, I guess,” she answered listlessly.

“Have you…has he been…”

“No sign of Neal,” she quickly interrupted. “And I haven’t had that feeling of being followed. But every time I try to sleep, I have nightmares that seem to go on and on. I can’t wake up, no matter how hard I try.”

He stepped closer. “What sort of nightmares? Are you able to remember them when you finally do wake up?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I just hear…whispers I guess, for lack of a better word. It’s like I’m weighed down by something and these voices are mumbling all around me. I can’t see any faces or bodies. I want to move or open my mouth to scream, but it’s like I’m…a hostage or something. I feel like I’m tied up and gagged, completely helpless.”

Killian pressed his lips into a thin line and eyed her warily. He knew what was probably going on, but he was a bit unsure of her reaction. “Emma, would you be willing to let me use my equipment to monitor your apartment at night?”

“Why? I told you I haven’t had any sense of Neal being around.”

“Spirits haunt people in a variety of ways. You experienced Cassidy actually appearing to you, then I could sense he was surrounding you with his aura,” he explained carefully. “I suspect he’s coming to you in your dreams, now. If you’ll allow me to set up my equipment in your apartment, I’d be able to determine if he’s doing that.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You mean you want to sit and watch me sleep all night? That’s a little creepy.”

“And being haunted by a ghost isn’t?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“We wouldn’t need to be in the same room with you. We can set up the equipment and monitor it from somewhere else in your apartment, which is a better way to do it anyhow. If he is coming to you in your sleep, having us in the same room might be a deterrent.”

“Wait a minute,” she said. “What do you mean by ‘we’ and ‘us’? I thought your channel was called ‘Killian Jones: Ghost Hunter’. No one else is mentioned.”

“Ah, so you have heard of my channel,” he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard of it, I just don’t watch it.”

“Point taken. Anyway, to answer your question, my assistant, Will Scarlett, will be there, too. We do all-nighters together. That way, the equipment can be monitored more closely…and we can keep each other awake.”

“Oh, okay,” Emma sighed. “But I wanna meet this Scarlett guy first. I’m not exactly comfortable having a complete stranger in my home, while I’m sleeping.”

“I understand. You don’t have to worry about Will, though. He’s madly in love with Belle, my technical director, although he hasn’t worked up the courage to tell her yet.” He felt slightly guilty ratting out his friend like that, when he himself couldn’t admit his feelings to the woman of his dreams, either.

“Will she be involved in this…what did you call it?”

“An all-nighter. Belle won’t be there that night. Her job is to edit and post the videos.”

“I might have to meet her, too. If you record me with severe bedhead and drool dripping all over my pillow, I’d like to have an ally who would edit it out.”

He chuckled. “No worries, Swan. We do our best not to show the people who are experiencing the hauntings, unless they give us written permission.”

“That’s a relief. When do you want to do this ‘all-nighter’?”

“I just have to make a phone call. It could be as soon as tonight, if that’s convenient for you.”

“My apartment is a bit of a mess,” she admitted. “Maybe we should do it after I’ve had a chance to clean it up.”

“Actually, in our experience, spirits are more likely to visit when the place they hang around is in its natural state. We’re not sure why, but I suspect that altering it in any way makes them uncomfortable and suspicious.”

“In that case, maybe if I keep it spotless, Neal will never come back.” She paused and thought about it for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no way I’d be able to do that. You’ve seen my place. I’m a slob.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re a slob, Love. Your apartment simply looks…lived in,” he cheeked, a smirk on his face.

He was happy he was able to make her laugh. “Okay, Killian. If your assistant is available, let’s do it tonight.”

For a moment, he imagined her saying those exact words under very different circumstances…and without mentioning his assistant. Shaking his head slightly to dislodge those thoughts, he replied, “Sounds good. I’ll call Will and see if he’s available. When will you be home?’

“I’m just going out to buy a new coffee maker, so I should be back in about an hour. I work until ten tonight. Will that be too late?”

“Not at all. Text me when you get back, then Will and I will bring over the equipment, so we can get everything set up. Will that work?”

“Sure.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I…I don’t know if it’s Neal causing my nightmares, but I can tell you I’m ready for them to stop. What will you do if you discover it’s because of paranormal activity?”

“We’ll try to pick up on clues to figure out why he’s still hanging around - and, if possible, his motivation and intentions. Then all of us, including you, can work together to come up with a plan for getting him to move on.”

“I would really appreciate that. It gives me the heebie-jeebies thinking he’s in my home and hovering around me while I sleep.” She shivered involuntarily at the thought.

He reached out and took hold of both of her shoulders. “It’s going to be alright, Love. We have a pretty good track record. It’s not going to happen overnight, but with a little time, I have confidence we’ll rid you of his spirit once and for all.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Killian.” With a wave, she turned and walked toward the stairwell.

Killian watched her until she disappeared, then went into his apartment, where he pulled out his phone to call his assistant.

“What’s up, boss?” Will answered.

“I hope you don’t have any plans tonight, because we’ve got an all-nighter lined up.”

“That’s a bit last minute, don’t ya think, Mate? I could have meself a hot date.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?” Will huffed.

“Because you would never ask anyone out besides Belle, and when it comes to her, you’re a fucking coward.”

“Says the bloke who won’t ask blondie out. Speakin’ of which, might this all-nighter be for her?”

Killian closed his eyes with a groan. He shouldn’t have goaded his friend about Belle, because now he would have to worry about Will embarrassing him in front of Emma. If he did, chances of the all-nighter happening might go down the drain, along with any chance of Emma going out with him.

“Aye, it is,” Killian admitted. “But listen Will, please don’t mention anything to her about…”

“How yer madly in love with her?”

“Will…”

“Don’t worry, boss. My lips are sealed.”

“If only that were true,” Killian muttered.

“What time should I be there tonight?”

“Actually, I need you to come over as soon as you can. Emma stepped out for about an hour, but she wants to meet you when she gets back.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re a stranger who is going to be staying in her apartment all night, so she wants to at least make your acquaintance beforehand.”

“Makes sense. Be warned though, she might take one look at me and swoon at my feet.”

“I’m willing to take my chances,” Killian deadpanned. “Just be over here as soon as you can.”

“Fine,” Will sighed theatrically. “Give me time to pack my jammies and toothbrush.”

“Don’t forget your teddy bear,” Killian chuckled. Will was a goofball, but he was a great assistant and a very good friend, and he couldn’t imagine ghost hunting without him.

*********

A little over an hour later, Killian’s phone buzzed with a text from Emma telling him she was home. He stood and nudged Will’s feet off of the coffee table. “Grab the camera and computer bags. I’ll get the rest of the equipment.”

“Blondie’s home, I take it?” Will said, pushing himself up from the couch.

Killian turned to give him a disgruntled look. “Please be respectful. She’s not really sold on this all-nighter idea and I don’t want her to change her mind.”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Will assured him, adjusting the straps of the bags on his shoulder. “I’m looking forward to meeting this lass, after everything you’ve told me about her.”

Killian led the way out of the apartment to Emma’s place next door. Will stood slightly behind him as he knocked.

“Hey,” Emma greeted, her eyes bouncing between her neighbor and his friend.

“Emma, this is my assistant, Will Scarlett. Will, Emma Swan,” Killian introduced.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan,” Will said, reaching around Killian to offer her his hand.

“You, too,” she replied, firmly shaking it. “Come on in.”

After she turned around, Will bumped his shoulder into Killian. When he turned around, Will cast his eyes toward Emma, then gave him an exaggerated wink. Killian shot him a quick warning look before following Emma into her apartment.

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward her sofa, as she settled herself in the recliner. “So, Will, how long have you known Killian?”

“Oh, we’ve been mates since secondary school in Brighton. Ain’t that right, Kil?”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “We’ve known each other for a dozen years or so.”

“Lost touch for a coupla years when he moved across the pond, but then he called me in desperation when he started his ghost hunting career.”

“I wasn’t desperate,” Killian corrected. “I just needed an assistant and, since you weren’t doing anything else…”

“I wasn’t doin’ nothin’,” Will protested. “I was a lorry driver.”

“Lorry?” Emma questioned.

“It’s a large truck,” Killian explained. “And Will was never a great driver.”

“Oi! I resent that remark!”

“Is that what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” Killian challenged.

“No,” Will admitted, “but I wasn’t a bad driver, I’ll have you know.” Turning his attention back to Emma, who was listening to the exchange with an amused look on her face, he said, “Anyway, he explained his idea for a paranormal investigation channel, and since that’s somethin’ that’s always interested me, I was onboard.”

“Killian tells me you also have a technical director as part of the team.”

“Aye, that would be the lovely Belle French,” Will said, his eyes lighting up and a wide, goofy grin stretching across his face. “Killian met her at the library where he was always doing research. She doesn’t travel with us, just does the editing and posting.”

Emma exchanged a knowing look with Killian, clearly able to see and hear Will’s admiration of Belle. Glancing at the bag at Killian’s feet, she asked, “What kind of equipment will you be using tonight?”

“Will has a video camera, digital camera and two laptops,” Killian said, pointing to the bags Will had sitting beside him. “And in here, I have a digital voice recorder, infrared thermometer, spirit box, geophone, which is a vibration sensor, and the EMF detector you saw the other day.”

“All that stuff will detect ghosts?”

“And hopefully record any visual or audio anomalies,” Killian explained.

“You forgot to mention the flux response device,” Will threw in. “That allows us to ask spirits yes or no questions. If they answer yes, the green light comes on; if it’s no, it’ll be the red light. Provided they answer at all, that is.”

“Wow, the whole process seems pretty complicated,” Emma commented.

“All you have to do is fall asleep, Swan,” Killian said. “We’ll handle the rest.”

“So, uh, where do you need to set things up, then?”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “Some of the equipment will need to go in your bedroom.”

“Okay. Mi casa es su casa,” she said, standing up to lead the way to her bedroom.

As the guys figured out where to set everything up, Emma straightened her bedding and picked up a stray sock to toss it into a hamper. “So, how does this work exactly? Will you wake me up if I start having a nightmare?”

“That would defeat the purpose,” Killian replied. “If Cassidy is coming to you while you’re asleep, we want to capture that activity and hopefully be able to communicate with him. Once the sun peaks over the horizon, we’ll pack everything up and leave your apartment. It will take us a while to watch and listen to our devices and decipher all the data, but once we do, we’ll contact you to go over the results.”

“How long will that take?” Emma asked.

Killian pursed his lips in thought. “Anywhere from a few hours to a day or two, depending on how much we’re able to collect.”

“Belle helps us with all of that decipherin’ and analyzin’ stuff, too,” Will said.

“Do you, um, would I be allowed to see and hear everything?”

“Absolutely,” Killian assured her. “If you are being haunted, you have every right to know what’s going on.”

“I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty interested in what you’re doing, now that you’ve explained it.”

“Does that mean you’ll start watching my channel?” Killian cheeked.

“Depends on whether you’re successful in getting Neal to move on…if it’s actually him.”

“Ah, so no pressure then.”

Emma shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “You said you guys were good at what you do.”

“We are, but we can’t guarantee results. Every case we’ve worked has been different,” Killian explained. “We have been able to make contact with spirits in the majority of them, but in a few others, we didn’t find any proof of paranormal activity. If we are able to establish a connection, the person being haunted has to help encourage the spirit to move on. Do you think you would be able to do that, if and when the time comes?”

She shrugged again, the smile from earlier gone. “I’d like to say I will, but I guess I won’t really know until then.”

“Fair point. Let’s just hope we get some results.”

“What happens if he doesn’t show up tonight?” she asked.

“If there’s no paranormal activity tonight, we’ll leave the equipment set up to try again another night. It may take several all-nighters to capture activity, or it may happen right away - you just never know. Plus, that way we’ll be ready if you get the feeling he’s here. In any case, we’ll keep trying until we collect something, or until you feel like he’s moved on.”

“Would you mind laying down?” Will asked. “I want to focus this in the general vicinity.” He had the video camera mounted on a tripod aimed at her bed.

Emma hesitated a moment before moving to the bed to sit down. “I still say it’s gonna be really weird trying to sleep with you guys watching me.”

“We’ll be in the living room, using the laptops to monitor what the equipment is recording. If nothing is going on, we’ll stay in there,” Killian assured her. “If we detect something, we’ll bring the flux response device in here and try to communicate with him.”

She lay down on the right side of the bed, closest to the door. “This is where I start out, but I can’t promise that’s where I’ll stay. I’ve always been a bit of a restless sleeper.”

Will fiddled with the camera while Killian set the voice recorder on the nightstand beside Emma’s bed. “We’ll turn these on when you go to bed. They have enough battery and storage to run all night.”

“Although,” Will stated, “sometimes the spirits have been known to drain batteries very quickly.”

“We’ll be able to see if that’s happening, too. The laptops have readouts from all of the equipment.”

They finished setting everything up as Emma sat on the edge of the bed watching them. Every now and then, Killian made eye contact with her, noticing her trepidation. Each time, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

When things were arranged to their satisfaction, Will grabbed the empty bags off the floor and they all left the bedroom.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll text you when I get home from work?” Emma asked.

“Aye. As soon as you let us know, we’ll come over,” Killian said.

“In that case, I’ll make sure I’m ready for bed before I send the text. What will you guys do until I get back?”

“We generally sleep the day away when we’ve got an all-nighter, ain’t that right, Kil?” Will said.

Killian nodded. “It doesn’t pay to be tired while we’re working, and the following day, we’re usually very excited to go through everything we collected.”

“That makes sense,” Emma said. “I’ll plan on seeing you tonight around ten-thirty, then.”

They bid her goodbye and returned to Killian’s apartment. As soon as the door was closed, Will clapped his friend on the back. “I can see why yer in love with her, Mate. She’s lovely.”

“I never said I was in love with her,” Killian corrected, moving into the living room to plop down on the couch. “I just…fancy her.”

Will scoffed. “Semantics. I saw how you was lookin’ at her.”

“Was it similar to the way you look at Belle?” Killian smirked.

“Do ya always have to bring that up?” Will grumbled.

Killian sighed. “Let’s face it. We’re both besotted fools who are too spineless to do anything about it.”

“Let’s make a pact. When this is all over with Emma’s ghost problem, we’ll both work up the courage to ask our fair ladies out.”

Killian got up and went into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of water. Handing one to Will, he said, “I need to wait and see how things turn out for Emma. If this is too traumatizing for her, I’m not going to complicate things further by asking her out. That doesn’t mean you can’t date Belle, though. I think you two would be great together.”

Will unscrewed the cap and took a quick drink. “I’ll think about it. Now, let’s order some pizza so we can eat and then get some sleep.”

*********

Killian could tell Emma was nervous when she answered the door that evening, clad in a tank top and shorts, her hair up in a loose bun.

“Sorry it took me so long to text you,” she apologized. “It was really busy at work tonight, so I wanted to take a quick shower.”

“No problem, Swan. We’re not in a hurry and we want you to be relaxed.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, knowing that I might have a starring role in the next ‘Poltergeist’ movie.”

Killian moved closer to squeeze her hand. “What do you usually do to unwind when you get home from work?”

“Watch an episode or two of a show. Sometimes I have a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Doesn’t that have caffeine in it?” Will asked.

“Yeah, but I find that it relaxes me before I go to bed.”

“Just go about your routine and try to forget about us being here,” Killian advised.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like I would be able to do that.” She rubbed the back of her neck with both hands, rolling her head from side to side.

“Would a massage help?” Killian asked.

“That would actually be really nice,” she affirmed.

Killian stepped behind her and began to massage her shoulders. Dropping her head forward, she groaned, “God, that feels good. Can you keep doing that for about an hour?”

Inhaling her fresh scent and feeling her skin under his hands was making him struggle internally. Her skin was so soft, he just wanted to lean down and kiss her lovely neck. Instead, he cleared his throat and chuckled. “I’d be happy to, Love.” He glanced up and frowned at Will, who was giving him a shit-eating grin.

After a few more minutes of kneading Emma’s back and shoulders, he felt her begin to relax. “Do you want Will to make the hot chocolate for you?” he asked.

“No, thanks. I don’t make it from those packets. I do it the old-fashioned way with milk, cocoa and sugar, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“What makes you think I don’t know how to make it like that?” Will asked, sounding offended.

“Do you?” Emma asked.

“No,” he admitted, “but that don’t mean I can’t try.”

“I’ve seen his attempts at cooking,” Killian said. “I’d keep him away from your kitchen if I were you.”

“It’s always ‘pick on Will day’, innit?” he groused.

Emma laughed. “Do you guys want a cup, too?”

“Yes, please,” Killian said. “How about you, Scarlett?”

“No, thanks. I brought a coupla bottles of Mountain Dew with me.”

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, sipping their beverages and watching a show of Emma’s choosing. Halfway through the second episode, Killian looked over to see her dozing off in the recliner.

“Swan,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“I think it’s time you went to bed.” He stood up and took the empty cocoa mug from her lax hand.

She looked up at him, blinking slowly. “Yeah,” she yawned. “I guess it is.”

“G’night, Emma,” Will called as she began stumbling toward her bedroom.

“Night, Will. Good luck with your ghost hunting,” she said, pulling the band from her hair to let it fall loosely down her back.

Killian handed Will the mug, asking him to put it in the kitchen sink, then followed Emma into her bedroom. She settled under the covers as he switched on all of the equipment. When he was finished, he couldn’t resist pulling the sheet up over her bare shoulder. “Sweet dreams, Emma.”

“I thought the purpose of this was for me to have a nightmare,” she murmured, her eyes already closed.

He gently brushed some strands of hair away from her face. “I would be much happier if you never had another one.”

Her lips turned up in a small smile. “Thanks, Killian. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Love.”

Will had the laptops set up by the time Killian got back out to the living room. He picked one up and took it with him to the recliner Emma had vacated, while Will hunched over the other one on the coffee table.

Two hours of silence passed before they saw the temperature begin to drop on the thermometer readout. They both sat up straighter, eyes scanning the data from the other equipment. The grainy image from the video recorder showed Emma making small, jerky movements. As they watched and listened, their instruments indicated paranormal activity going on in her bedroom.

After another ten minutes, they met each other’s eyes across the dimly lit room. “This is a fucking goldmine,” Will commented.

Killian nodded grimly. He hadn’t taken into consideration how much it would affect him to see Emma in the throes of a nightmare. As he sat in this room, watching her thrash about and listening to her whimpers through the video camera, all he wanted to do was go to her, take her in his arms and comfort her.

Grabbing the flux response device, he told Will, “I’m going to go see if I can get him to answer any questions.”

Will continued to watch his laptop screen intently, his mind nearly blown at everything he saw and heard. This was definitely one of the most successful all-nighters they had ever conducted.

*********

By the time Emma awoke the next morning, she felt like she had been in a boxing match all night, and noticed the guys and all of their equipment were gone. She assumed it meant they had documented paranormal activity, which was confirmed when she found a note on her coffee table from Killian telling her that they were able to gather some good information, and that he would be in touch with her later that day.

As she sat at her kitchen table drinking a large mug of coffee, she was a bit surprised when her phone lit up with a call from Ruby. Her friend usually didn’t contact her until her workday was over at the police station, and it was almost always via text.

“Hey, Ruby. What’s up?” Emma asked, her voice sounding exhausted, even to her own ears.

“I’ve got news I thought you’d be interested in hearing.”

“Has another ex of mine been arrested?”

Ruby ignored the question. “They began an investigation into Neal’s death because during the autopsy, they discovered marks around his throat that weren’t made by the bedsheet.”

Emma sat up straighter in her chair. “What kind of marks?”

“Handprints.”

Emma gasped. “They think someone killed him?”

“It’s been ruled a homicide. They suspect the crime lords he was selling drugs for may be involved somehow. Probably wanted to shut him up before he started blabbing about them in jail.”

“Oh, wow. I tried to tell him he was an idiot for being in cahoots with those people. He was convinced he would work his way up the ladder in the organization to be one of the top guys. I knew nothing good would come of it.”

“You were smart to break it off with him. Otherwise, they might have come after you.”

A chill ran down Emma’s spine. “You don’t think they will, do you?”

“Nah, it had been over a year since you guys were together when he was arrested. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about, except that the ghost of my dead ex is haunting me, Emma thought. “Thanks for the info, Ruby. If you find out anything else, please let me know.”

“Will do. I better get back to work. My break is almost over. Talk to you later.”

They ended the call and Emma sat looking at her phone. Was Neal’s unfinished business proving that he was killed? If so, why was he hanging around her instead of somebody who could actually do something about it?

She yawned widely, wondering again what Killian and Will were able to capture.

*********

As soon as they got back to Killian’s apartment, he and Will went into his office and began going through the audio and video recordings, along with other data they collected. Will uploaded the photos taken at regular increments in Emma’s bedroom so they could study them more closely on the larger computer screen.

Belle arrived mid-morning to help. They listened to the white noise collected by the spirit box, trying to decipher voices or words that may have been recorded.

“There’s so much information here,” she commented. “This apparition is clearly trying to communicate with…what’s her name again?”

“Emma Swan,” Killian answered quickly.

“How long have you been neighbors?”

“Five years or so.” He could feel the redness creeping up his neck and into his face, as Belle scrutinized him.

“And this is the woman you’ve um, how did Will put it? Been crushing on for years?”

“She’s just a friend,” Killian said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Pfft,” Will scoffed. Killian glared at him.

“Sounds like you hope to be much more than friends, Killian,” Belle commented.

He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes. “Can we just get back to business, please? I would like to share our findings with Emma today, if possible.”

Belle studied him for a few moments, a smug smile on her face, but she let the matter drop.

They continued analyzing the data, replaying the recordings over and over as they discussed what they heard and saw.

“Did you get any useful information from the flux?” Belle asked.

Killian shook his head. “I only got one response, and that was to my first question - are you Neal Cassidy? The answer was ‘yes’.”

“Well, at least you got confirmation of that,” Belle commented. “It’s better than nothing.”

His phone buzzed on the table and he picked it up to see a text notification from Emma.

E: I know I’m supposed to wait for your call, but I’m a bit anxious. Are you awake? I’m really curious about what went on last night.

Killian glanced up from his screen to see Will and Belle looking at him. “She wants to know what we found.”

“We can share what we’ve deciphered so far,” Will said. “I don’t think I can stay awake to do much more. I’m knackered.”

“Agreed,” Killian said, tapping on his phone to respond to Emma.

Within five minutes, there was a knock on his door and he left the room to answer it. Emma stood on the other side, her lower lip pulled between her teeth, clearly on edge.

Without stopping to think, Killian reached out to take her hand, pulling her to him. To his surprise and relief, she went into his arms willingly, where she fit against him perfectly.

“Are you alright, Love?” he murmured into her hair.

“Did you find any reason for me not to be?”

He hesitated a moment, unsure quite how to tell her. “He…Neal…it seems he is coming to you at night, invading your dreams.”

She pulled back and looked at him. Seeing the utter helplessness and shock on her face, his heart sank. “How am I ever gonna be rid of him?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Tucking her back against his chest, he said, “We’ll figure it out. I won’t give up until we do.”

“Hey, boss. Me and Belle just found…oh, sorry!” Will’s voice came from behind them, causing them to pull away from each other.

Before turning to look at his friend, he studied Emma for a few more seconds. The look on her face was one of weariness and fright, and he knew he would do whatever it took to make that look disappear for good.

Not caring that he would probably get a good ribbing about it later from Will, Killian leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Emma’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re up to seeing and hearing what we collected last night?” he whispered.

“Is it going to traumatize me?” she asked, trepidation clear in her tone.

He brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Love - it’s not going to be easy. But if we can figure out Neal’s unfinished business, we have a good chance of getting him to move on. Since you knew him well and we didn’t, your input could be invaluable in making that happen.”

“I know,” she sighed. Then, lifting her chin, a determined look came over her face and she set her jaw. “I can do it.”

“That’s my tough lass,” Killian said, hoping she took it as a compliment and didn’t question the sentiment behind it.

He stepped out of the doorway, allowing her to pass by him into the apartment. With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the office, Will following behind.

When they entered the room, Belle swiveled in her seat and stood with a smile on her face. “You must be Emma,” she said, her hand outstretched in greeting. “I’m Belle, the technical director.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Belle,” Emma replied, shaking her offered hand. “Killian and Will have told me a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope.”

“O’ course,” Will said. “There’s nothin’ bad to say about ya.”

Emma and Killian shared an amused look, as Belle resumed her seat.

Will sat in the chair beside Belle, while Killian rolled the last one over for Emma, then stood behind her. “Bring up the photos first, please.”

Belle hit some keys on the computer keyboard and they all focused on the oversized monitor. A gallery of pictures popped up and with a click of the mouse, Belle selected one which filled the screen.

“You remember how we covered the mirror on the back of your door and everything else that would reflect light?” Killian asked. Emma nodded, and he continued, “We wanted to be able to debunk any light anomalies that could have been caused by reflections. The door was closed and your bedroom was completely dark, yet you can see these orbs of light in several photos.”

He leaned over Emma’s shoulder to point out the bright spots on the screen, as Belle brought up one picture after another. “We can also rule out dust specks because these aren’t consistent with the characteristics of dust…”

“And there isn’t any dust in my super clean apartment,” Emma remarked, tongue-in-cheek.

“Right. That, too,” Killian grinned.

“So, what do these…anemones mean?”

“Anomalies, Swan,” Killian corrected automatically. “They usually signify paranormal activity. We went through the pictures carefully and have counted at least five different light anomalies, which is the most we’ve seen in one space during a single night of investigation.”

“Wow. Does that mean I’ll get into the paranormal record books?”

The three investigators laughed. Belle minimized the gallery of photos and hit a few more keys. “This is from the video camera,” she explained, hovering the cursor over the little dot on the left side of the screen. “I’m going to fast forward quite a ways because nothing happened for the first two hours of the session.”

She slowly dragged the cursor several inches to the right, stopping when the time read an hour and fifty-seven minutes. Emma strained to see anything in the grainy image and was finally able to discern the outline of her sleeping form in the bed.

As she continued to watch, one corner of the screen began to lighten slightly. Will pointed to the spot. “See that there? Keep watchin’.”

The mist drifted down toward where Emma lay and seemed to settle beside her.

Emma leaned in closer, then sat back with a gasp. “Is that…?”

“It appears we captured an apparition,” Killian confirmed.

  It was a strange sensation to watch herself beginning to react on screen, and Killian’s reassuring hand on her shoulder was very welcome as she felt herself filling with tension.

“This is where it seems your nightmare begins,” Belle remarked softly.

“Do you remember anything about it?” Killian asked.

Emma slowly shook her head. “Not really. Just that feeling of being held down and unable to move or speak.”

“Did you hear the voices again?”

“I heard those whispers, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.”

They watched for several minutes, uncomfortably observing Emma’s jerky movements in the video. Then they saw the bedroom door open and Killian enter the room. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and placed the flux response device on the nightstand. After he turned it on, they heard him ask, “Are you Neal Cassidy?” and saw the green light illuminate.

Emma whipped around to look at Killian. “He gave you confirmation?”

“Aye, but he didn’t answer any of my other questions.”

Belle let the video run for a few more minutes, allowing them to hear more of Killian’s questions such as, “Do you know you’re dead?” and “Do you know how you died?”

“We haven’t had a chance to watch the entire video,” Belle explained, “but the guys noted the times when there was more activity.” After checking the paper in front of her, she moved the video forward to the 3:25 mark. Killian was no longer in the bedroom, but Emma still appeared to be having a restless sleep. The translucent figure beside her began to drift until it was a few feet away from the camera, where it appeared to stretch a limb toward it.

“We were wonderin’ if he was tryin’ to turn off the camera,” Will said. “Like he didn’t want us recordin’ him or somethin’.”

“Why can’t we see him clearly like I could when he was outside the coffee shop?” Emma asked, as she continued to watch the video.

“That’s a good question,” Killian responded. “We really don’t know why spirits are recognizable at times, and other times, they have no form at all.”

“You can see the apparition settle back down beside you…now,” Belle said, stopping the video at that spot. “It doesn’t move until…” consulting the paper again, she moved ahead to just past the five hour mark, “right here. Now, watch it disappear.” She clicked on the play arrow to show the spirit move up toward the ceiling. Then it was gone.

“Maybe he went through to the fourth floor and he’s their problem now,” Emma said bitterly.

“I wish it was that easy,” Killian replied.

Belle switched off the monitor in front of her. “We got some audio recordings on the spirit box and voice recorder. We can listen to those next.”

Will placed the voice recorder in front of Emma. “So far, we only listened to a section of this corresponding to the appearance of the apparition.” He turned it on and sat back in his chair. At first, all they could hear was complete silence. It was broken by a whooshing sound, followed by the soft, unnerving sounds of Emma letting out little whimpers.

“What was that noise?” she asked.

“We assume that was his ghost coming into the room,” Killian said.

“That’s the sound ghosts make?”

“We’ve heard lotsa different noises through the voice recorder,” Will said. “Bangs, crashes, whooshes, clinks, clanks, moans, groans…”

“I think she has the idea,” Killian cut in.

“The data gathered from the EMF detector, geophone and infrared thermometer verified the fact that paranormal activity was present in your bedroom,” Belle said.

“Oh, yay,” Emma said sarcastically, spinning her index finger in the air in a mock celebration.

Killian chuckled as he scooted the spirit box closer and plugged it into the computer. “After using the flux and getting just that one response, I turned off the voice recorder and replaced it with this. The nice thing about this new device is, it records the sounds. The old one we had didn’t, so we had to rely on the video recording to hear it. We’ve spent quite a bit of time listening to several sections of this, trying to decipher them. Perhaps you can help us, Swan.”

“I can try,” she said, leaning forward in her chair. “What am I listening for?”

“When I switch it on, you’re going to hear ‘white noise’ and the readout on the computer will look something like a Richter Scale graph. When there’s an unexplained sound and a spike on the graph, it’s possible the apparition is trying to speak. That happens several times in the section we’re about to listen to, but we have differing ideas of what’s being said. We’re hoping you can figure it out.”

“Okay. Ready when you are.”

He switched on the box and instantly, loud static filled the room. Emma flinched at the sudden noise and once again felt Killian’s steadying hand on her shoulder. With his other hand, he pointed to the readout on the laptop screen. “Watch for the spike. We’ll run it back as many times as you need.”

She watched and listened intently. About a minute in, there was a change in the graph as they heard a guttural sound. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Can you run it back?”

Belle rewound it a few seconds. When the sound came through again, Emma whispered, “Ems.”

Killian reached forward and hit pause himself. “What did you say, Love?”

“Ems,” she murmured again. “Neal always called me Ems. At first, I thought it was a cute nickname, but it annoyed me after a while because he overused it.”

“Play it back again, please,” Killian told Belle.

She did as he asked, all of them leaning forward involuntarily. After they heard the word again, she stopped it. “I think she’s right.”

“What did you guys think it said?” Emma asked.

“It’s so quick, I didn’t even have a guess,” Killian said.

“I thought it sounded like he was clearing his throat or something,” Belle added.

“I thought he belched,” Will grinned.

“Because ghosts obviously build up gas and have to let it out somehow,” Killian said, rolling his eyes. Then he turned his attention to Emma, who had paled considerably. “Swan, are you okay?”

“I, uh…could I get a drink of water, please?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

Will jumped to his feet. “I’ll get it.”

Killian swiveled her chair and knelt down in front of her. “Is this too much for you, Emma? We can stop, if it is.”

“It’s just…hearing his voice and knowing he’s…dead is pretty freaky. Seeing him was a horrible experience, but hearing him…”

Will came back with a bottle of water and handed it to her. She thanked him and took a long drink.

“That’s enough for today,” Killian said, standing up.

“No,” she protested. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a shock, you know?”

“Of course it is,” he agreed, “but if you’re sure, we’ll keep going.”

She nodded and turned her chair to face the desk again.

“Ready?” Belle asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Belle hit play and the room filled with the pulsating white noise again. This time when there was a vocalization, she had to rewind it four times before Emma said, “I think he’s saying ‘mine’.”

“That was our guess,” Killian said.

“That gives me chills,” Belle said, with a little shiver. Will stepped behind her to put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him appreciatively.

“There were a few other places where we heard his voice,” Killian explained, giving Belle a nod to start the recording again.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to decipher the last phrase. They finally came to a consensus that the first two words were ‘taking’ and ‘you’, but the final utterance stymied them, until Emma suddenly slumped in her chair. “I think I know what it is. He…he’s saying ‘taking you…with me’.”

Belle put her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, while a grim-faced Killian rubbed his hands up and down Emma’s biceps in an attempt to soothe her. Will said bluntly what they were all thinking. “The bloody bastard thinks you’re his and wants to drag you to hell with him?”

*********

Thank you all very much for reading!

Tagging:

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[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt. He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from. He realizes he loves her, but may lose her. After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

@deans-spinster-witch thank you for this ask. Actually thank you all that submit asks or sent me story prompts, I am going to get to them all, but I thought this one would be a good place to start.

First let me start off with my disclaimers:

1) I haven't see the last few seasons of SPN, so I don't know how they addressed COVID, if they did at all. So think of it as alternative timeline, not really canon.

2) My COVID representation is probably not 100% accurate, either by the reader symptoms or that I don't mention Dean wearing a mask or that he was able to be in the hospital with the reader.

3) I just POV and I think I may have jump from 2nd to 3rd person writing? I did my best to correct it, but sometimes I can't seem to correct it. Also did my best with editing, but I am sure I missed something. Flashbacks are bold italic and internal thoughts are just italic.

4) I am not sure if this is 100% what you were looking for. It does end on a cliffhanger, so I will be posting a second part. It was getting hella long coming in at 7,500 words. 😬 sorry.

5) swearing, hints of past trauma that we may get more in the second part. Self doubt/hate. Angst heavy!

Okay think that's it. It's a Y/N x Dean focus story with Sam making an appearance via phone. Characters are not mine but the work is. So please don't post as your own.

Feel free to like, reblog, send me feedback in the comments. And if you have a story idea, send it my way via asks or message. Or if you want me to tag you on my work let me know.

Okay think I have stalled long enough. Here it is, my first story back from 3 year break.

JUST BREATHE-



"Excuse me, sir, you can't be up here." A female voice, strong, laced with exhaustion, mixes with the sounds of the hospital. Doctors are being paged, staff are going in and out of rooms, and machines are monitoring patients. All of it, white noise, too, Dean. Because he can't look away or tear his eyes from what is in front of him. Y/N is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a ventilator. What happened? How did it come on so strong and so fast? He had just seen you last week when he came through town on his way to his next hunt. Picking up research that you had done for him since Sam was working on another case in California. You were the best…no, are, you are the best researcher he knows…you have to get better; you can't…

"Sir! I will have to ask you to leave if you're not family. The ICU is only for families." The female voce, insistent on getting him to pay attention to her. Tired, she was just so damn tired of no one listing to her today; she had better things to do than police people about.

"How long has she been here?" Dean asks, his voice firm but slightly wavering. He can't look away, watching as the vent goes up and down, breathing for you. Y/N, come on, you have to pull through; I can't lose you, Dean thinks, trying his best not to break. He prayed to God if he thought it would help if he thought the ass would be listing.

"Sir, I can't give that information if you're not family." Dean looks away from you for a moment, noticing the nurse standing beside him. She is dressed in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back, and a mask on. He can tell she is on her last nerve with him, and he has to win her over. He can't leave you, not now. "So, are you family?" she asks again.

"Umm…" He knew he needed to lie. If he told her that you were just a friend, he would never get answers and would never get back to this floor again. It was dumb luck that he could get your room number out of the receptionist downstairs. He pulled himself together to give her his winning smile and wink. "She's my sister." Clearing his throat, he looked back to you.

The nurse looks down at the chart in her hand. "Miss. Moore didn't have a brother listed as next of kin, but then again, a neighbor brought her in." Looking back up to Dean, he doesn't respond. "How about we go somewhere a little more private to discuss your sister's condition?" She lightly grabs Dean by the shoulder and turns him away from the window and you.

********

Dean did his best to listen to the nurse, but all he really wanted to do was get back to you. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't do anything; this wasn't caused by a demon, monster, or anything in his wheelhouse. You were brought in about a day or two after he had seen you. Your neighbor had come over to borrow something and saw you in the window, passed out on the floor. COVID had hit you hard, and you just couldn't shake it; your lungs filled up so fast with fluids that you passed out.

That was a week ago; you had been in the hospital for a week and on a ventilator. The doctors feel that your body just needs time to fight off the infection.

"She seemed fine when I saw her last; how could this happen?" Dean questions, trying to be as respectful as possible without raising his voice and getting kicked out.

"COVID hits everyone differently; we really don't know why. Some people may never get it, and some…" Not finishing her statement, the nurse looks away from Dean.

"Can I go back and sit with her?" Dean asks, more like pleading with her. He just wants to ensure you're doing alright and stand watch until you wake up. He doesn't know what else to do.

"I am sorry, but no," the nurse replies as kindly as possible. Seeing that he will protest this, she quickly adds, "But, you can come back during visiting hours. You won't be able to go in the room; we have to keep it clean because of COVID, but you can see her from the window." Hoping this will be a compromise he can live with. She doesn't want him to get upset and have to call security and have him escorted out. She can tell he cares for her and is scared.

Dean will take it; he knows he has to. You're the strongest person he knows. You will get through this; you have to. "Alright, I guess I will come back then," Dean says, getting up from the table.

********

Walking out of the hospital, Dean calls Sam to tell him what is happening and that he wasn't leaving until you were back home. Screw the world, let the monsters run amuck, and let demons rain hell on earth; he had more important things to do. "I don't care, Sammy, I am not leaving again. This is the only number you can reach me at, and only you," he says, getting into the Impala and firing it up.

"Alright, Dean. I hear you. Do you want me to come? I am almost done here." Sam offers, knowing that Dean won't take him up on it.

"No, I am good, but thanks. You stay on the West Coast until the world calms itself down." Letting the engine run for a bit, Dean takes a second. This has been the longest they have been working apart. It's been hard on both of them, but at least Dean has you to talk to. He has been leaning on you more since Sam was in California. Could Dean have caused this? Was he asking too much of you?

"Dean, hey, you still there?" Sam breaks through his intrusive thoughts.

Clearing his voice, "Yeah."

"You know, she will get through this. She's going to be okay," Sam says, trying his best to reassure him and get him out of his head because even if they are miles apart, he knows his brother. Dean is blaming himself right now for something that he can't control.

“Yeah, I know… I just… what if I…..”

"No, don't think like that, and don't think you had anything to do with this happening." Sam quips back, knowing where his brother's thoughts are going, and he will not have him spiraling out.

"But I ask so much of her. You know she will never say no. Even when she has other things to do, she always drops everything when I ask for a favor. God, I am such a user…"

"No, you're not. Y/N is strong, and she said she would tell you if she didn't want to do something. She wants to help; she thrives on researching this stuff, and you know it." Sam states, "Come on, you know she would rather research lore or listen to one of your 'tales from the front lines,' as she likes to call them, any day of the week."

The thought of you saying these words to him as you patch him up, 'Alright, Dean, what tales to do we have this time?' or how your voice would be giddy when he called you about a case he found. "Yeah, you're right, Sam," Dean replies. Feeling a bit better after talking with Sam, he always knows how to keep him from spiraling too much.

"I know I am; now go get some rest. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Night brother"

After hanging up the phone, Dean didn't want to go to a hotel or bar, but he was now wired and needed to do something. Pulling out of the parking lot was second nature, and he found his way to your driveway.

Sitting there, looking at the modest, two-bedroom, two-bath house, he would consider a second home for as much time as he has spent there. It was odd to think about walking through that door and you not being there. When getting out of the car, the sound of the door opening and closing is the only noise that breaks up the silence of the night. Taking a few steps, Dean stops himself from knocking like he usually does. Habit, he thinks. Pulling his keys out, he flips until he finds the one for your house.

It was an argument you had won, not that he didn't want a key. Of course, he did, but he didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands should something happen.

"No, I don't need a key, Y/N," Dean protest, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Yes, you do; now take it." You say, holding out the key for him to take.

"I don't need it; you're always here. Why would I need to get into your place when you're not here?" he questions. Finishing off his beer, he gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. "You want another one?" he asks, trying to change the subject.

You get up and follow him. "Don't change the subject, Winchester," you say, following him and sitting on a kitchen stool. What if I wasn't home tonight?"

Tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin and turning to face her, he can tell by the severe look on your face that this is an argument that he won't win. But why make it easy on you. "But you were," giving you a smirk, he opens the fridge to pull out two more bottles. "Besides, where would you be on a Friday night? You have a hot date I don't know about?" he questions. Handing one of the bottles to you.

He struggles slightly to open the bottle with his left hand since his right is currently in a sling. After putting his shoulder back into place and stitching him up, you open the beer in your hand, hand it to him, and take the other one from him. "Maybe," you say cryptically, a twinkle in your eyes.

"Really? Didn't know you were dating anyone?" Dean is slightly put off by this. It's not that someone would want to date you; it's the opposite. You're beautiful, and he always wonders how you were still single after all this time. Intelligent and funny, any guy would be lucky to call you his. Heck, he would like to call you his.

"I am not," you say, putting him out of his misery and his slight spiral of another guy touching her, kissing her… But I could still be out. Do you want to be sitting out in your car waiting for me to get home?" you question, pushing the key towards him. "Just take the dam key. It's only a key. I am not asking you to move in with me."

If you asked him that, he would say yes in a heartbeat. But the reality of his life, what he and Sam do for a living, gives him pause to take the key. "I just don't want anyone else to get their hands on it."

"Who, like Sam? Of course, you can give a copy to Sam." You joke, knowing what he's getting at but trying your best to keep this conversation light.

"No, not Sam. I am thinking Crowley, another demon or monster, or worse, Lucifer. I would hate for anyone other than Sam or me to get their hands on this and come after you."

"Dean, that's not going to happen."

"But it could, you know it could."

Letting out a sigh, you decide to pull out the big guns to get him to take this damn key. "A key is not their first choice to get in. You have put up all the wards you could think of." You say, proving that you are as safe as possible. "Heck, you made me even get this thing." Snapping off your leather bracelet to show off the anti-possession tattoo. "and you know how much I hate needles." The black tattoo shows nicely against your light skin and hides the other barely visible scars.

"Yeah, I found out real quick that day. I think I still have scars on my arm from you digging your nails in," he jokes, bringing his hand up to his wrist to run his fingers around the tattoo and the scars he knows are there.

"Haha, that's real funny." You fake laugh. " Just take it, please. It will make me feel better if you have it." You do your best puppy dog eyes as you push the key closer to him.

Dean takes a moment before caving. "Alright, but I am only going to use it for emergencies." he conceits, taking his keys out and putting your house key on the ring with the rest.

Getting up from the stool, you smile at him, "Thank you, Dean," you say sweetly and hug him.

**

Dean shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts from that night, as he shuts the door behind him. He stood in the entryway, just taking in the quietness of the house, holding his breath, waiting for you to come down the hallway, saying, ‘Dean, you look like shit; what were you up against this time? Let me get you patched up, and you can tell me all about it.’ Guiding him to the kitchen, you would pull the first aid kit and a beer from the fridge.

Watching these memories play out in front of him, it's not until he lets out a shaky breath that he had been holding that he feels the tears run down his face, "Fuck! Y/N, you got to get better, okay…." choking back, "I can't lose you." The thought of losing another important person in his life. Someone who should have a happy and long life and who, without them, Dean wouldn't be standing here today. He owes everything to you.

Dean can't bring himself to step past the entryway, feeling like an intruder. "I can't…" feeling pressure in his chest, he turns and walks out the door. Locking the door and making the short walk to his car, the pressure subsides once he is in the driving seat. Knowing he can't stay in the house. Too many memories of you and his dark thoughts will keep him up. He also can't put the car in drive and go to the motel just outside of town. It's like his body won't let him leave.

*******

Y/N POV

You were in the hospital for two weeks, and Dean was by your side, or somewhat outside your hospital room, every day, every hour he could be. At least that is what the nurse told you once you were awake. Your 'brother' Dean has been by your side. The first time they told you this, you looked confused, which caused concern from the staff.

"Your brother, Dean," the nurse says again, her voice laced with concern as she points to the window that looks into your room from the hallway.

You turn your head slightly, your body stiff from being in bed for so long, and the breathing tube just being taken out. There you see him, Dean Winchester, raising his hand to give you a short wave, and a look of relief washes over his face, which is covered with a slightly heavy five-clock shadow. You give him a smile and look back at the nurse. "Yeah, sorry, of course, he's my brother. Just didn't know anyone called him?" you reply, "Can I have some water?" you ask, you're throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Sure," the nurse says, filling a cup and handing it to you. "Well, the doctor will be in soon," she says, giving you a short smile and walking towards the door.

"Umm, can my brother come in?" you ask. Knowing that no matter what she says, Dean will make it in here one way or the other. The nurse hesitates. "It's just that I would like him to hear what the doctor says. I am still groggy, not sure I am going to remember everything he tells me," you add, hoping this will pull on her heartstrings just a bit.

Which does work, "Sure." she replies, giving you a smile and then walking out the door. She briefly talks to Dean before walking away, and Dean enters the room.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean says, shutting the door behind him and walking towards you.

"Hey yourself," you reply. You try to sit up a bit more, but you struggle a bit.

Dean quickly gets to you. " Here, let me," he says, finding the remote for the bed, setting you upright, and then readjusting your pillows. "Good?" he asks once it looks like you're settled.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this, you’re sure you're a mess, bed hair, hospital gowns, and oh man…your breath has got to stink by now, right? Trying your best not to breathe out, "Yeah, thanks." you quickly reply. Dean sits in the chair next to your bed but doesn't say anything. Okay, guess you will start. "So brother, hum?" you quip.

He smiles at this and looks away from you to the bedding. "Yeah, I had to say something; otherwise, they would never let me back in." Then, looking back at you, a slight panic sets in that you might be mad at him for this small lie. " You're not mad, are you?" he asks.

"No, of course not," you reply, wanting to reassure him that everything is fine. This does, as relief washes over him a second time. You hold out your hand for him to take. "Just wonder what Sam will say about having a little sister, that's all. I am sure he will hate being the middle child," you joke.

Dean gives a short laugh: "Oh, Sammy will be all right with it. He will be happy to hear you're awake, is all." Dean's fingers rubbing your hand back and forth are nice.

"How did you know I was here?" you ask, trying to remember the day before you were brought in, but it's all a blur. Was he coming to see you? Was he working on a case?

"I was coming back through, and you had helped me with the case in North Carolina…" lowering his voice, even though you're in a private room," that Dinji." Dean recounts, seeing you not remember. He continues, "I stopped by your place, and your neighbor was out and said you were in the hospital."

None of that is registering at all, like last month, which is a blank slate. Fuck, what else are you not remembering? "And you have been here this whole time?" you ask, wondering what the state of the world must be like if he has taken himself out of saving the world for two weeks! Is Sam okay?

Dean's eyes, bright green, lock with yours, cocking his head slightly to the side, with slight confusion at your shock that he was here the whole time. "Of course, where else would I be? I wasn't going to leave you alone here," he says, a matter of fact.

You're about to reply to this, ask more questions, ask how Sam is, but before you can, the doctor enters the room. "Miss. Moore, welcome back," he says, looking at your chart and then at you and Dean. And this must be your brother?" he asks, holding his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean does, letting go of yours, the loss of him, his touch is apparent. "Hey, doc, when can I take my sister home?" Dean asks.

The doctor starts to talk, but you're not listening; your mind drifts to Dean. He put his life on pause for you? Wow, that's something, but you're sure he would do it for Charlie, Jody, Claire, or Alex, right? Yeah, of course. Dean sees you as family, which is what you are to him; that's what you will always be. Yes, you were close. He and Sam saved you from the vampire nest, explained everything about their world, and gave you a purpose.

You feel a slight pressure in your chest. Now that you're awake, how long will he stay before he leaves again?

"So I will get the nurse to start the discharge paperwork, and you guys should be out of there in a few hours," the doctor says. Giving you a smile.

Not hearing anything but that, you just smile back and look towards the window. You hear Dean thank the doctor, and he leaves the room. "nice guy," Dean says, filling up the silence.

"Yeah," you reply. You’re not sure what you are feeling; it's almost like a weight on your chest, pressure. Maybe it is COVID; it will be better once you get home. It has to, right?

******

You didn't know Dean could fuss over you more if he tried. He insisted that he be the one to wheel you out of the hospital, only after he made sure the car was pulled up as close to the door as possible so you didn't have to walk too far. Then, when he pulled into your driveway, he insisted he carry you the short walk to the front door.

"No, Dean, I can walk. My legs aren't broken; I had COVID, that's all." you quip back as he comes over to your side of the car to pick you up.

"The doctor said you shouldn’t over-exaggerate yourself, that's all," he replies, trying again to wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up from standing against the closed car door.

You block his hands again. As much as you would like his arms around you, have him cradle you; where is this coming from? You also don't want him to hurt himself, or God forbid the neighbors see him carrying you bridle style. "Yeah, walking the three feet to my front door is not going to kill me." This comment is like a punch in the gut for Dean; it's written on his face. Shit, was my COVID scare that much of an effect on him? But why? Trying to write your wrong, you try to play it off. "Come on, man, I have been on my back for two weeks and must move a little bit." You quip back. Playfully pushing him aside and walking towards the door.

You get to the door but realize you don't have your keys, you didn't have those, or your phone when you were brought into the hospital. You wait for Dean to come up behind you. He doesn't say anything, pulling out his keys; he opens the door and lets you walk in first. You shuck off your jacket and shoes and go to the living room. Sitting on the couch, you try to hide the sigh of exhaustions that you feel from the small activities you just did; but it slips past your lips and is not lost on Dean.

"Want me to make you some tea? You hungry?" Dean asks.

"No, I want you to tell me what's happened since I was in the hospital. Did all the evil in the world decide to take a break while I was out, and that's how you got to have some time off?" you question, motioning him to sit next to you on the couch.

Dean shrugs at this, "No. I just told Sam I was taking myself off the board, is all." he says casually.

"Taking yourself off the board? Hum, I didn't know you guys could do that," you ask, Giving him an intuitive look.

Dean is giving you nothing back, shaking his head, looking around the room, and clapping his hands together. He points towards the kitchen, "I am going to make that tea for you." He walks away before you can stop him, leaving you to your thoughts. Something else is happening, and you know who to call to get the truth out.

******

Making that call seem more complicated than usual since Dean didn't leave your side for anything. Three days, three days of hovering and mothering you, and as much as you care for Dean, and possibly secretly loved him. Let's face it, those chest tightening pains at the hospital, the loss of his touch was not COVID symptoms, it was your heart telling you what you already knew. You were in love with Dean Winchester, and the fact that he dropped everything for you made your head spin and feel like the most important girl in the world. But you are a realist, and Dean Winchester is out of your league. He sees you as the little sister he got settled with, not the girl he wants to kiss and do other things with.

On top of that, you are sure his opinions of you drop a few points since you found out really quick that to pass the time while he waited for you to wake up, he decided to clean your house from top to bottom. The sheer embarrassment when you found out had you want the couch to swallow you up right there. "Excuse me, you did what?" you ask, thinking you didn't hear him right when you ask; the following day, a book you usually had on your coffee table was now on the bookshelf that it was never on.

"I did some cleaning while you were…" Dean says, not finishing that statement while he grabs the few dishes off the coffee table and heads towards the kitchen. He never finishes that statement. Whenever he says it, he never says 'when you were in the hospital' or 'when you were sick.' After three days of the hanging statement, you get frustrated over that.

But knowing he cleaned your house, how clean is clean? Did he do your laundry? Yep! Did he clean under your bed and put stuff away on your nightstand? God forbid he did a deep clean in your closet—oh, the embarrassment. "Why?" you ask, now following him, waiting for an answer that you sure won't come.

Dean has his back to you, rinsing off the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. "What? It's not a big deal. I had time, plus the nurse thought it was a good idea for you to come home to a clean hose." He says while wiping down the counter.

You try your best to breathe and calm down. Yes, all that is true, a clean house to come home too make sense. But having him go through your personal and private things, fuck, him cleaning your underwear. He will never look at you as desirable again, not like he did before. You look up from the floor to see him watching you, waiting for a reply. "thanks, I guess," you say, defeated. "I am going to go take a shower." You say, needing just a few minutes by yourself, shake off this feeling of rejection you know he doesn't realize he caused.

"You need some help?" he asks, approaching you and walking a step behind you.

You take a second, knowing again that he just wants to help, but God treats you like an old woman. Because you know that his offer of 'helping you out' in the shower does not imply sexy times; it's he saying he thinks you are weak and that you're going to get tired, fall, and hurt yourself. You get to the bathroom door. "No, I got it, thanks," you say, opening the door and shutting it before he can say anything.

*****

Dean POV

I know I am being overprotective, maybe even going overboard with not letting her do anything, and perhaps the deep clean was an overreach. But in my defense, I thought I could lose her, and if she was going to, no, when she was going to come home, I wanted it to be in a clean, COVID-free house.

I turn away from the bathroom door and walk towards the living room. I start to clean up, picking up the discarded blanket from my makeshift bed; even though she has a spare room, it's on the second floor away from her, and I want to be close in case she needs me in the night.

The rigging of my phone pulls me from my thoughts of her. Picking up, I see it's Sam. "Hey, what's up?" I ask, dropping the blanket and myself onto the couch.

"Just checking in, how's Y/N?"

"Good, still low energy, but I am just happy she’s walking and talking, even if I am annoying her."

"You, annoying her, I can't believe it," Sam says, with fake shock. "You know she can take care of herself; she has been doing that for some time now." Sam reminds me. Knowing that my hovering is coming for a place of love for Y/N, but it could be doing more damage than good.

"I know, it's just…" I pause briefly, looking back to see the closed bathroom door. "Sam, she just looked so helpless there lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to those machines…and there was nothing I could do…nothing that could save her…I just had to wait."

Sam knows that's not my strong suit, "I know, I get it, but maybe just ease off a little. I am sure it's making her feel like a burden, you doing everything for her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I will try."

"I know I am." He clears his throat and paused briefly before asking what he knew I would not want to answer: "So when are you heading back to the bunker?"

I pause momentarily; the idea of leaving you hadn't crossed his mind. "Umm…" Hearing the door open, he looks to see you walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway to your room, wrapped in your navy-blue plaid robe, hair slightly damp from the shower. "Not sure yet, but I will keep you posted. I got to go." I say quickly, hanging up the phone. I know that she can take care of herself, but at the same time, I don't want to leave her again; what if I do and something happens, and there is no one here to save her again. Sam's right, though; I have to back off, or I am liable to smother her.

*****

Y/N POV (about a week later)

Something seems to have changed in Dean in the last few days. It was like the old carefree Dean was back. He hovered less, not watching my every move, and even went on a quick day trip to the bunker to pick up more books for me to read since I had read everything in my place twice, and if I was going to be stuck inside I wanted to do something productive. Granted, I had to ride shotgun on this trip, so although we got out of the house, I was still under his protective eye. But he wasn't babying me anymore; he cracked jokes, smiled, and even complained when I made him watch the same movie repeatedly.

Dean was going on a food run, and this was one outing he didn't let me go on. Too many people, could possibly get sick again, so he didn't want to risk it. But he also hated doing it, leaving you alone. "You're sure you're going to be fine," he asks again, standing in the doorway, you on the other side, trying your best not to push him out and lock the door.

"Yes, Dean, you'll be gone for an hour. I think I can survive." you quip, pushing him playfully, "Go, I promise, no running around the house with scissors or jumping on the bed. I will keep my butt on the couch until you get back."

Dean's worried face slightly softens, knowing that you will be fine, but that pit in his stomach—the thought of him walking out that door again and not having you in his sight—will never go away. "Okay, but call me if you feel off," he reminds you again.

"Yes, now go." You reply with a smile. Yes, he was getting on your nerves slightly, but you still loved the guy for it.

You watch as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road before you head inside. Walking to your room, you find your cell phone charging, and you quickly make the call you've been waiting to make since you got home.

He picked up on the second ring: "Y/N, everything alright? Dean texted me to say he was going on a food run. Do you need him? Are you not feeling well?…" Sam blurts out, a lengthy, run-on statement that has you slightly spinning.

Trying your best not to laugh at him. "Sam, calm down; I am good. I just wanted to talk to my friend. How are you?" you ask, wanting to ease into this discussion. Plus, you really did want to know how he was doing; ever since you came home, you only talked to Sam when Dean would call him and have him on speakerphone. Even then, Sam was instructed not to speak about cases he was working on. Dean had a theory that possibly COVID was stress-induced, but you know it wasn't.

"I am good, making my way back to the bunker. I have a case in Wisconsin, so I'm in your area. I was thinking of seeing you guys once it's done."

"Oh yes, please do, Sam. It's been ages since we've hung out together. I feel like a movie marathon is needed."

"Yeah, if you're up for it. Dean tells me you get tired easily. Is anything else not the same?"

"Umm…brain fog for sure; I lost all memory of the week before I went into the hospital. Some things don't taste the same. But honestly, Sam, can we not talk about me for a bit. Tell me about the case in Wisconsin; what are you hunting this time." You inquire, done talking about yourself, need a distraction, and avoid asking Sam what you want to know.

Sam, being the best friend, a girl could ask for, knew that a distraction from your symptoms was what you needed, and although it would be breaking his promise to Dean, he could hear it in your voice, the need for some kind of normalcy, at least what normal is considered for us. Giving you all the details, you can come to the same conclusion that it was a vengeful spirit and a simple salt and burn job is in order.

Once Sam is done talking about Wisconsin, a lull in the conversation forms, and you look at the clock to see Dean should be home soon. "Sam, can I ask you something?" You feel slightly nervous and try to figure out how to phrase your question.

"Of course, you can ask me anything."

Taking a breath, you wait a second before asking, "How was Dean when he found out I was sick? He said he 'took himself off the board' and has been hovering since I got home. He's gotten better, but those first few days, it was like he was a different person."

Sam can tell by the last statement that you're trying to bring some levity to an otherwise heavy question, a question that he is surprised you have to ask. taking a breath, he thinks about how to say, ‘You idiot, he loves you! and you love him!'

"I am glad to hear that he's lost up the reins a bit," giving a chuckle, "but honestly, Y/N, he was devastated. I know he's my big brother, and he tries his best to hide his emotions, but I could tell that night when he called to tell me what happened, he was scared. Scared that he was going to lose you, scared that he might have caused this to happen to you."

"How could he have caused COVID? I mean, I get he sometimes can have a big ego, but, come on, he can't cause an infection."

"No, but he thinks he has been asking too much of you, wearing you down. I can't say whether he's right or wrong. You and I know you occasionally burn the candle at both ends."

"Yeah, I am trying to get better at that. But Sam, he was treating me like I was 90 years old. He wouldn't let me do a thing around here. And did he tell you he cleaned my house—my whole house—before I got home? I mean everything."

"Oh man, I am sure you were not happy to hear about that."

"Your damn right. I wasn't."

"Look, it's not my place to say, but I will tell you this, remember that night when you and I got a little tipsy, and you might have let slip your feelings for a certain green eye hunter?"

Fuck, of course, he remembers that night; that was right after you had helped him and Dean take down a wraith, and Dean was out on a beer run. "Yeah, you asked me why I never seem to be dating anyone, and I said I can't be with the one guy I want, so why be with the wrong guy at all."

Sam waits for you to connect the dots, and although you're not sitting in front of him, Sam has a feeling you're making the connections: "Let's just say Dean has the same idea, and he has his eye on a hazel eye researcher that he thinks he can't have."

You're about to protest Sam's statement that Dean has no feelings for you other than sibling love, but before you can, you hear the front door open and Dean yelling, "Honey, I am home," sweetly.

"I've Got to go, Sam. Talk soon," you say, and hang up before he can reply.

*********

Sam's words kept rolling around in your mind all night, distracting you from Dean. During dinner, you were quiet, letting him lead the conversation and not making it known when he mentioned Sam might be stopping by in a day or two that you two had talked earlier. "Oh, okay, sounds good." you responded, still thinking, 'He has his eye on a hazel-eye researcher that he thinks he can't have.'

Dean went for girls that were the complete opposite of you, blonde, curves in all the right places without an ounce of fat to be seen, the girl that guys walk across fire for, not the girl that they run into fire to get away from. Not the girl who is socially awkward around strangers, who can put her foot in her mouth easier than anyone, and who has more of a backstory than is worth mentioning. No, Dean goes for simple, noncomplex girls, which makes sense, given his life is entirely of danger and complexity. Why go for a girl to add to it.

Dean can tell your mind is elsewhere, and he is slightly worried that you're lost in your head or that this might be another symptom. "Hey, space cadet, you with me? Because if you're not watching the movie, I will gladly turn it to something we haven't seen twice this week," he jokes, hoping to make fun of the situation.

His voice shakes you from your thoughts, and you look over at him; his eyes have just a hint of worry to them. The blanket across both of you, him in a simple white t-shirt and sleep bottoms, you in gray leggings, tank top, and open cardigan. Perfection, you and Dean cozy up on the couch, not a care in the world, him teasing you about your love of disaster movies, and you forcing him to watch the same one repeatedly, and he does; why? Because he loves you. He loves you like a sister, a friend, someone he cares for, just not someone he’s IN love with.

"yeah, sorry, I think I am just going to go to bed." You shake off that last statement: he's not IN love with you. God, you really know how to cut yourself deep, don't you? Getting up from the couch, you grab your water glass and head towards your room.

Dean gets up with you, "here, let me help you," he says, walking around the couch and placing a hand on your lower back.

This is the last straw, the final statement of his wanting to help you, again treating you like you're helpless. "Stop! Just stop!" you yell, feeling yourself boil with rage you knew you had been keeping at bay. You know his hovering is with the best intentions, but for you, it's blurring the lines between what you want from him and what you know he can give you. Your mind won't let it be accurate even after what Sam told you today.

Dean stops his hands from touching you, standing still like he is frozen in time. "Y/N, hey, I just want to help. You look tired, is all." His voice is soft and sweet.

He’s trying to placate you, like he would a child or grandparent, "Dean, I am fine; I can walk ten feet to my room on my own and not get lost or fall down, okay!" You lock eyes with him and see his face fall, and in that moment, you know that he's hurt; you've only ever yelled at him when you were injured and need him to find you. But that was screaming for him, not at him. You know that you should feel bad for your outburst, you do, but you know that this is not real, that this ideal version of him and you playing house can't last.

"What is wrong? Is this another symptom? Did something happen while I was out?" he asks, wanting to understand your sudden change since this morning. You start walking away from him, wanting to get into your room and away from him, knowing he will get the truth out of you. You don't want to hear his excuses or him placate you even more about why he and you will never be a thing.

You turn halfway down the hall to look back at him, standing there watching you. "No! It's not! I am a capable woman who can take care of herself. Stop treating me like I am dying, Dean! You saved me once; that should be enough for you." Turning back, you reach your door, hand on the handle to open it, when you hear Dean.

"What does that mean?" Dean questions, his footsteps pad against the hardwood floors, standing right behind you; you can feel his breath on your neck, "I know you are capable; you are the strongest woman I know." his voice low, sending shivers down your body, you feel his hand on your arm, turning you around to face him. He sees your tear-stain cheek, "Fuck, Y/N, talk to me; what is going on? Why would you say saving you once was enough?"

Your eyes, trying and failing to hold back the tears, are now on the brink of spilling out. He needs to just let you go. You lean back against the door, knowing he took that little movement as exhaustion, and you are. You are exhausted by talking about this repeatedly, tired that he just can't let you leave, won't give up, and will go back to seeing you only when he needs something. He needs to go back to his life and let you put him back into the box of things that you don't let yourself have. Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face, wiping the tears and pushing them back inside. Putting on your brave face, "You know, Sam will be here in two days. I think you should go back with him. Go back to the bunker, and 'put yourself back on the board.'"

Throwing his line back at him, telling him he needed to return to work and that you would be fine without him. Will you, though? In time, maybe? You turned the door handle and stepped into the room, never breaking your eye contact with him. He shut the door in his face and flipped the lock, not giving him a chance to speak, knowing that he would not force his way in.

To be continued

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch02: Fur

Summary: The Winchesters and their new companion plan their next move... Referenced Episodes: None CW: Gore. Disclaimer: Pretty much all the lore I have in this story is vastly inaccurate to Navajo legend. The Navajo have decided to keep their legends largely a secret and don't share much about their culture. So please take note of the fact that all information in skinwalkers is either from the show, or from my own imagination, and not culturally accurate. Word Count: 6057 Recommended Song: Rock of Ages -- Def Leppard Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

"Get up!" I shouted before jumping onto the bed, shifting mid-air. I landed paws first beside the younger Winchester brother and bumped his cheek with my wet nose. Sam groaned and threw his hands up, swatting at my fur. I growled and licked a stripe up his cheek.

Sam immediately jolted up, vigorously wiping the slobber off his cheek with his blankets. Unphased by his disgust, I bounded over him and leaped onto the other bed, where Dean still slept, blankets tangled around his waist. He slept on his stomach, lips parted and green eyes tightly shut. I tackled him, knocking him off the edge of the bed, the blankets falling with him. He hit the floor with a loud yelp.

Dean swore and sat up suddenly, only to find himself nose to nose with a wolf. He groaned, rolling onto his back and throwing his arm over his eyes. "So it wasn't just a bad dream. We did actually adopt a mutt."

I shifted back into my skin and glared at the elder brother, arms folded tightly over my chest in indignation. "I am not a mutt," I grumbled dramatically, holding my head high. "And I'll have you know that I think any dream about me would be a pleasant one."

Sam laughed from the other side of the room. "Only if you're a dog-lover-"

"- Which I," interjected Dean, "am not." He mumbled some swear words under his breath and stood to his feet, dragging the blankets with him, dumping them onto the bed. "Especially not untrained, glorified dogs."

"Mm, that's a shame, considering you're about to be waist-deep in a horde of them," I joked, bumping him in the shoulder with my fist.

"They're not dogs, they're monsters," Dean retorted, pulling a gun from under his pillow. He slipped it into the waistband of his jeans, and I marveled at how he could possibly be comfortable sleeping in such clothes.

"Yet I'm a mutt?" I questioned, pursing my lips and frowning teasingly.

"You're the exception."

I growled playfully and slipped off the edge of the bed. "Whatever, Dean. Just get up. I'm eager for a fight."

Dean glowered at the wad of tangled blankets. "No reasonable hunter should be eager for a fight."

I glanced ruefully over my shoulder, taking in his deliciously disheveled appearance. "I'm not a hunter, Dean. I'm a mutt."

A smile crept onto his face.

—

With the Impala loaded and ready to go, the three of us exited the empty motel parking lot. The sun had just peeked over the tops of the trees, leaving the sky filled with a gray and pink tint. It was still early in the morning and a sleepy feeling hung in the air.

Sam had pulled up directions for the skinwalker base on his GPS. I had only been there once and frankly, I never wanted to return. I wanted nothing with anything involving the typical skinwalker lifestyle. I didn't want a pack, to hunt humans, or anything else that came with the skinwalker title. I just wanted to be left alone.

Why wouldn't they just leave me alone?

Sam turned to glance at me in the backseat and creased his eyebrows with worry. "You look unsettled," he commented. I nodded and fiddled with my fingers restlessly.

"I am," I agreed, avoiding eye contact. "I'm nervous. I've fought before but... it's been a while." There was more to it than that. I didn't like fighting or the thought of having to take a life. I shivered at the thought. "When was the last time you fought?"

I paused to think. "With a human? Before my uncle... left, we used to spar all the time, but it was never a life or death situation. Even on hunts with him, I was never too concerned," I grumbled. Whatever monster we were hunting, I doubted it would be able to kill me so long as I didn’t get cocky. "I'm certainly not rusty. You'd be surprised with how much spunk alligators have in them."

Sam's eyes widened at that. "You've fought alligators?"

"Well yeah. They're pretty easy if you can keep their mouths shut. They don't have a ton of power in their jaws when it comes to opening them. And if you can get them on their backs, they're done for. Taste like chicken too," I remarked with a grin, hoping it masked my nerves.

Sam shook his head and faced forward once again, clearly disgusted at the thought of eating alligator.

After a few minutes, Dean cleared his throat. "How about some music? We have some time to kill before we get there." Sam quickly obliged, searching the glove compartment for a cassette. He handed one to Dean, who quickly read it and popped it into the cassette deck.

Rock of Ages, by Def Leppard, started playing loudly throughout the car. I could see Dean smile from the rearview mirror. The car accelerated, leading us closer to our destination. My mind was spinning. How was the fight going to go? It had been ages since I had fought another skinwalker, and had certainly never killed one. I knew I was capable of killing when the time came.

I couldn't help but think that something would go horribly wrong.

The car sped forward and trees whipped past. Spanish moss clung to their trunks and limbs, absorbing the light the trees needed, all while suffocating them. I sighed and propped my chin in my palm, gazing out the window. The brothers needed my help, they didn't know what to expect when it came to a skinwalker, let alone a pack. I couldn't leave them, no matter how much I wanted to avoid this fight.

I just wanted my life back. Everything had changed when my uncle died. I was alone for the first time in my life, with no one to look for me and keep me in check. I had been so afraid, afraid that I would lose control without someone there to keep me in line. I was afraid I would hurt someone. It wouldn't have been the first time.

The trees cleared up ahead and I caught sight of a rundown old gas station off the side of the road. I straightened, lifting my chin from my palm, and strained to get a better look at it.

"That's it," I said quietly.

"What?" Dean said, glancing in the mirror.

"Dean, that's it! The gas station! Quick, pull over!"

Dean obliged, swerving quickly to the side of the road, crossing traffic. He carefully selected a spot hidden from the view of the station, before parking the car and exiting. His feet hadn't even touched the ground before I was standing at the trunk of the car, waiting for him to unlock it.

The three of us wordlessly stocked up on weapons. I holstered a gun on my waist, adding several magazines of silver bullets to my pockets. Two silver knives hung from my belt, although I was careful not to touch the blade. My skin itched at the proximity to the silver.

Sam, who was polishing the barrel of a gun, glanced at the knives strapped to my belt. "I thought you didn't need weapons?" He joked, smiling down at me.

"You can never be too careful. I'm really only taking them just in case. I doubt I'm going to have to fight without my teeth and claws, but something might happen where I don't have enough room to shift, so I have to resort to your barbaric ways of fighting."

"Barbaric?"

"Yeah. I at least have the decency to fight with my God-given weapons. Humans manufacture weapons that kill easier and faster than anything else. You'd have to be a barbarian to want to improve on killing someone." Why would anyone want to kill easier?

Sam smiled thoughtfully. "I guess that's true. But if you had to defend yourself, even if it meant killing, wouldn't you want the best weapon for the job?"

"I guess," I replied, thinking for a moment. "Are you a lawyer or something?"

Sam's smile dropped. "I was going to be. I dropped out recently."

"Why?"

He opened and closed his mouth as if looking for a good answer. Finally, he shook his head and said, "I'll tell you some other time."

I basked in the glow of the morning sun, loving the feeling of it warming my skin. The pleasant warmth could never compare to the pull of the moon, but I still reveled in its brilliant rays. "I don't think most of the pack will be awake for a while. I think they’re usually awake at night, so they'll want to sleep for another few hours, at least. I'm sure there are a few on guard though," I mumbled out, eyes turned to the sky.

Sam nodded in response, holstering his gun. "Then we should probably get Dean and move in."

I nodded in response and walked around the car to where Dean was leaning against the hood of the car. I had to admit, he looked quite attractive in the weak lighting, with his tousled hair and brilliantly green eyes flecked with bits of gold.

"Dean," I began, "Sam and I are going to move into position." He nodded and straightened, holstering his own gun.

"I know. I could hear you two talking."

I smirked and folded my arms teasingly. "Really? I'm surprised humans can even hear that well."

"I'm better than you think," he smiled softly and quickly walked off to where his brother was waiting.

"Sure. Stay safe," I replied, briskly walking away from the brothers and to their vantage point. The point was on top of a small hill, a knoll technically. It was surrounded by trees, with long strands of moss hanging from the branches, making it difficult to see the hunters.

"We all remember the plan, right?" Dean inquired, as he crouched in the brush. Both Sam and I nodded. "Good. Then let's do this."

The two brothers focused their attention on me. My eyes flashed gold as I began to shift. My nose elongated, my spine changed shape – I could feel my bones breaking as they changed position, fur sprouting along my back as my clothing became one with my body.

There was a time when this would have been painful for me to do. Now, it was second nature. In moments, I was once again a wolf. The light filtering through the trees showed brown highlights beneath the thick outer layer of black fur.

Without turning to look at the Winchesters, I burst out of the foliage and into the sunlight, beginning the short trek into the belly of the beast.

—

Tom Chikaltio was just awful in every way imaginable. He was a brutal leader who hated living in the shadows, who demanded everything and more from his pack, even those few things they couldn't give. He was power-hungry and animalistic, only caring for his status and defending his title. Why none of his pack members had left him, I would never truly understand – perhaps they were afraid of what he would do if he ever found the deserters.

Chikaltio was a fearsome opponent. He'd won a number of difficult fights and ruled his meager pack with an iron fist. His dominion was the equivalent of barbed wire slowly squeezing around an animal's torso until it pierced the skin and blood burst forth in the form of revolution.

I had only seen him once in my short life, and it was an experience I never wanted to relive.

It was a midsummer afternoon, only a few months after my uncle's final hunt. The kitchen was unearthly quiet. My uncle’s little dachshund, an orange fluff ball by the name of Peony, would often waddle around the kitchen, her uncut toenails clicking against the linoleum tile. She never liked me much.

The kitchen was quiet, the lights dim in the bright afternoon sun. I had been nursing a beer with my feet propped up on the coffee table and a book in my lap – frankly, I had never been a big fan of alcohol, but it helped to take my mind off my grief. It was better than other bad habits I had picked up. There wasn't much to do other than enjoy the quiet. Although, there was little to enjoy, as I was so used to my uncle’s booming voice and constant motion. He rarely rested, and the house felt so empty without his lively presence.

A sharp screech was heard from the road, the sound of a car turning into the driveway. Despite the months of solitude, I half expected it to be my uncle’s old truck turning into the drive. I realized quickly that couldn't be the case, as he was never returning home. I stood languidly and stretched, attempting to hold back the flood of negative thoughts, threatening to break through the dam I had built around them, and made my way to the door.

I frowned, leaning against the doorway with my beer still in hand, and glared at the approaching silver Toyota Camry. It was an older model, at least ten years old, and the paint was chipped in places. I took another unimpressed sip of my beer and narrowed my eyes at the man who stepped out of the car. The first thing I noticed was his scent; it hit me like a semi, the smell of car oil and fir tree. The fir was one of the most shocking first impressions I had ever had, as it was a rare smell in rural Alabama.

He was tall and stocky, a coat of thick, wiry hair covering his arms and legs. A thin layer of dirt covered his skin and his short-cropped brown hair stuck out at odd angles. He had fearsome, icy blue eyes trained over my relaxed form, and a heavy palm hovering over a pistol on his belt.

The encounter went smoothly, fear lodging itself into both parties. I feared for my life, knowing if I stepped out of line this man would surely try to kill me. Whether he would succeed was unknown to both of us, and that was what scared him. He feared for his position, knowing a third-generation purebred could easily knock him from his throne.

—

I paused on the outskirts of the parking lot, allowing my scent to drift closer. I wanted them to know I was on their land and to ignore the nearby human presence.

I shifted back, knowing full well that starting this fight in my wolf form left me at a disadvantage. I shivered with worry, disregarding the thick Alabaman heat. The small lot was empty, save for the two cars, one a beaten-up pickup and the other a totaled Camry, both covered by blue tarps and surrounded by wood scraps.

Bones littered the lot, teeth marks evident along the many ridges. The front of the gas station had open windows, some with the glass blown out and others covered in a dirty film. A few shadows could be seen milling within the building.

I squared my shoulders, steeled myself, and set one foot back. This was my home, and I was tired of being pushed around. I just wanted to be left alone. It was wishful thinking, but I hoped that maybe my bold display would send Chikaltio away from my home without a fight. I whistled and all movement from within the station stopped.

I jumped when the door slammed open, a small mob exiting the crumbling building. Growls issued from the mouths of mutts and people alike. My eyes widened slightly, seeing the array of dogs rushing me, snapping their jowls aggressively. Few of them looked truly dangerous, and most were just sitting back, watching the display with interest.

I lifted my head with pride, masking the nerves that had my heart fluttering. It had been so long since I had fought something other than a predatory animal. I didn't know what to expect from Chikaltio, but I did know I wouldn't let him continue ruining my life, or the lives of the nearby humans. I would send him on his way, or I would die trying.

Or so I believed until Chikaltio stepped from the shadows of the abandoned building, a gun clutched loosely in his large palms and a cocky smirk on his whiskered face.

Fuck.

"Finally decided to take up my offer?" he asked, his yellow, sharp canines flashing with triumph.

"You mean the one where you said 'join or die'?" I answered with malice, clenching my hands into tight fists. My eyes flickered between his eyes and the gun in his hand, his finger tapping against the trigger. While I was capable of using a gun, I doubted I'd be able to reach my own before he shot me.

Buy time, I told myself. Keep him talking.

"Not quite, though I do like the analogy. I never took you for a patriot," he continued, crossing his burly arms over his chest and holding his pistol on full display, light bouncing off the barrel. I grimaced.

"I never took you for a historian," I spat. My eyes drifted over the crowd and my hands shook with nerves. "I'm surprised you're able to store any useful information in that tiny grapefruit."

His smile only grew. "What are you here for, purebred?"

"I want to talk, mutt," I countered hastily, heart pounding. He seemed so unphased by my antics, and, truthfully, it set me on edge. "I'm tired of being terrorized. And sending two brainless hunters after me was a low blow. I expected something better from an alpha." I spit out his rank like it was poison. I had little regard for the ways of most skinwalkers – I hadn't been raised the way they had, nor was I bitten and forced to conform.

His shoulders tensed slightly, and his eyes fell to a dog beside him. The animal looked like a mixed breed, with russet, wiry fur, and long drooping ears. Its eyes glowed a metallic yellow.

"I was not the one that told Chavez to send them after you. But-" he looked up, meeting my eyes with his own blue ones that seemed to be glowing more now than they had before, "I don't regret how he handled the hunters. It was clever. More clever than I expected him to ever be."

"You don't give him enough credit. He may have the brain of a gerbil, but even gerbils know how to find scraps."

Chikaltio chuckled at this, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did you just come to insult my pack, or did you want something?"

I swallowed slowly and clenched my jaw in determination. My hand moved to the handle of the silver knife attached to my belt. I exhaled shakily, cheeks reddening with nerves. This wasn’t something I really wanted, but it was necessary; this ended now – I would finally have my life back and would never again attract the attention of hunters. 

"Tom Chikaltio, I challenge you for the position of alpha of this pack."

Chikaltio hissed, fangs protruding from his lips in both shock and disgust. "That wasn't part of the offer, darling."

I swallowed, preparing myself for the fight ahead. I paused to think before spitting out, "Well here's my offer, shitbag. Give up your pack now and run back to wherever your pine tree-smelling ass came from, or lay down and die like the inbred mutt you are." I hissed with malice and the intent to kill if necessary, eyes filling with a molten gold color and hoping my message was clear. A few dogs howled at the challenge, some wagging their tails in amusement, eager for a fight.

"You little bitch," Chikaltio snarled, "I'll fucking kill you."

"Tough words for such a small dog," I responded with a shit-eating grin, crying from fear on the inside. The wolf in me was ready to lunge itself at him and tear his throat out for challenging me, a naturally higher ranking skinwalker. But I held back, acknowledging that I had to keep the ball rolling for this plan to work.

The scent of sweet dough, cherries, and beer filled my nose and I had to restrain myself from looking toward the alluring scent. It was an oddly comforting scent, one I had grown to enjoy over the last twenty-four hours. I couldn't give them away - but if I could smell them, certainly Chikaltio could too.

I widened my stance, throwing my hands up in fists, the now yellow bruise and thin scab from where I had been shot showing clearly. "You want to fight, dipshit? Let's dance."

Chikaltio snarled and lunged, shifting almost immediately. The gun he had been holding dropped from his hand. His brown hair, hinted with red, grew to cover his muscled body, and the skin around his jaw loosened, dropping into jowls.

My eyes widened as he lunged forward, jowls flapping and teeth bared menacingly. He was shifting immediately? Did he have that much confidence in his abilities, or was he going all out because he wasn't sure what to expect?

I snarled as his massive paws collided with my shoulders, throwing me backward onto the ground and knocking the air out of my lungs. He snapped at my throat, fangs only inches from the delicate skin. With an angered cry, I lifted my leg to knee him in the ribs, sending him sprawling on the ground at my side. I lifted myself to my feet, crouched low, and prepared for another assault as he pulled himself to his paws. He stumbled to his feet and circled my tensed form, wariness evident in his blue eyes. Realization hit like a tidal wave, slipping over me and bringing a shiver down my spine. Chikaltio had never seen me fight – he had no clue what to expect from me.

I grinned cockily and held my arms wide, welcoming his onslaught. "That all you got, Tom?" The mastiff snarled and whipped his head to the edge of the circle, blue eyes narrowed at a pair of mutts. The dogs stepped into the thin ring, lips drawn back and growls rumbling in their throats.

Shit. Could I really take on three of these mutts at once? I had never tried such a thing – hell, the only other skinwalkers I had fought had been my parents, and that was years ago. These dogs were larger than their mastiff alpha, but certainly not as fearsome. They were littered with scars from previous fights and the two were in rough shape, looking as though they hadn't won many of their encounters. I had faith that if I could separate them from Chikaltio, I could easily take them.

"Three against one?" I asked coyly, redirecting my attention back to the slobbering mastiff. I had to keep him distracted long enough for the Winchesters to make their move. "Don't you think that's a bit unfair?" Don't give yourself away just yet, I thought. Make them work for it.

The monsters didn't make me wait for them. The larger of the two mutts growled and lunged forward, taking me to the ground once more. The ground was where I was in my element – with all four limbs on the ground, furred or not, I knew I could win. My molten eyes swelled with color as I delivered a swift kick to its gut. The beast's whimper quickly turned into a snarl as he was thrown off like a limp rag and onto his back, a strong punch coming down onto his jaw.

I howled as claws dug into my back and the smaller of the two mutts bit into my shoulder. Their fangs sunk deep into the soft flesh and struggled to tear through the thick skin. I rolled and gripped the animal's jaw in my hand, pulling back on its gums until it released. I snarled and pushed the side of its face into the concrete, only to have the other quickly on top of me. An inhuman sound escaped my lips as the animal clawed at my stomach, attempting to shred the sensitive skin.

The two animals had me pinned, clawing and biting and tearing at whatever they could reach. I fought back, thrashing under their weight with all my might. I gripped the throat of one of the drooling beasts and lifted, putting pressure on its arteries until it loosened its claw grip from my body. My arms shook under the weight of holding the monster, and yet I locked eyes with Chikaltio. His skin went cold at the look of pure rage I cast at him.

I was so tired of this mongrel trying to control my life when all I wanted was to be left alone. Now, he had the audacity to have others fight his battle for him. My skin burned, the blood beneath burning with rage and hatred for this incompetent mutt.

Time seemed to slow around me as my eyes skipped from Chikaltio's worried eyes to a shadowed figure behind the totaled Camry. In the shadows stood Sam, a horrified look on his features as he watched the bloody display.

I flashed him a reassuring smile, meeting his eyes with warmth, hoping he understood my feelings in that moment. I wasn't going to be bested by Chikaltio, or anyone else.

Lifting a toned arm to the throat of the dog above me, I pushed hard. He fell to the side, blocking Chikaltio's view of the fight. I inhaled deeply and rolled my shoulders, ignoring the feeling of nails and fangs in my skin. Fur burst from my skin and my bones cracked, reorganizing into a canine's skeleton. In a matter of seconds, I was in my fur, fangs bared and flying towards Chikaltio.

Chikaltio went down, claws latched to his ribs and fangs sunk into his shoulder, grinding the bone until it shattered between my jaws. Claws raked over my back and sides, though I didn't care. I wanted him gone from my life, even if that meant killing him.

He was an example, something to show all other opposing skinwalkers that I was not to be trifled with.

I was dragged snapping and snarling off Chikaltio's battered form by three dogs, fangs barely reaching my skin through my thick fur. Chikaltio righted himself, blood dripping down his shoulders from several puncture wounds, the skin of his ribs torn and flayed. He pounced, forelegs shaking and jaws aimed for my stomach.

An explosion went off, tossing nearby mutts to the ground. The Camry was splintered, bits of metal raining down over the dogs and persons around it, flames rising high. My sensitive ears were ringing, and through the smoke, I saw the Winchesters charging forward and shooting at any dog who dared to come their way. With a victorious howl, I ripped away from the mutts holding me and slammed thick paws down onto the spine of a russet-colored hound.

I tore into the skin on his back, damaging the dog's spine before rolling to the side and leaving it to rot. A surprised yelp tore out of my throat as another came flying forward, tackling me from above. It snapped its thick jaws at my face and I snarled, lips pulled back to reveal pink gums and blood-stained teeth. With a mighty shove, I dug my nails into its neck, threw it to the ground, and sunk my fangs into its throat. Blood spurted across my face as I yanked, hating the feeling of its blood slipping down my jaws.

I glanced over her shoulder, seeing the third animal writhing on the ground, a silver bullet lodged in its chest. I winced and padded towards it, brushing its cheek with the end of my wet nose. The animal whined, the silver preventing it from shifting back. Taking pity on the bloody animal, I took its skull between my jaws and squeezed, ending the poor skinwalker's misery.

I whipped my head around to face a shaking, bleeding Chikaltio, his short tail tucked. He snarled in defiance, blood slicking his shoulders and running through his red fur. Thin bits of metal decorated his back and he kept most of his weight on one leg, favoring his left shoulder.

I took a few slow steps towards the battered mongrel, teeth bared and lips drawn back in a silent snarl. He held his head high, feet planted wide, and prepared for more. I stopped my slow pursuit and gazed down at his much smaller form with an intensity in my eyes I had only felt on a few occasions. I bent my neck until I was eye level with the smaller mastiff, hoping my eyes portrayed what I was thinking. I hoped they were telling him that if he would submit and leave my home, I wouldn't need to kill him.

As much as I would have liked to send him on his way, I couldn't leave him alive unless he agreed to go willingly. My simple act of kindness would become my downfall – Chikaltio was not one to let something like this slide. He would come back stronger and with help.

He growled, snapping and dripping slobber onto the ground. That was enough of an answer for me. I lunged, gripping his neck just under his strong jaw muscles, and squeezed. He fought but eventually succumbed, muscles relaxing until finally, he fell limp to the concrete.

—

I nursed my wounds and watched the last of her new pack cart out the dead. There were seven of them left and four of them were injured. The only two I recognized left uninjured were an Irish Setter by the name of Sasha and a blue heeler I didn't know. Sasha was rather kind, assisting the pack in whatever way she could, and even provided me with bandages to patch myself up.

To my surprise, I had come out of the fight with no serious injuries. Sure, I was bruised and bleeding in place, but my shoulders and back were the main sources of my pain. The puncture wounds left by the monsters would heal soon enough.

Monster. Nobody fit that title better than I did. I pulled my arms tighter around me, shivering in the nonexistent cold. I understood that fighting was the way of skinwalkers, but I couldn't help but be appalled by what I had done. There should have been another way, one where no one had to die. Perhaps if Chikaltio had shared my philosophy, he would still be alive.

If he had shared my philosophy, there would have never been a problem to begin with.

The Winchesters had done a number with their bullets, although they had eventually run out. There were only so many bullets you could carry in a pistol, and silver bullets weren't exactly easy to make or come by. They had a limited supply.

I sat by myself now atop the beaten pickup surveying the aftermath of the explosion, a sandwich in hand. One leg was hung over the side of the truck and I swung it with little attention. I surveyed my new pack with curiosity, waiting for one to meet my eyes. So far, none had.

I took a thoughtful bite of my sandwich, thinking about the recent fight. My face fell at the thought of Chikaltio's throat between my jaws. It had been so much like hunting a deer, and yet so different. My appetite fled, replaced by feelings of remorse.

I hopped down from the pickup, worn boots hitting the graveled parking lot now stained with blood and ash. I mulled around the pack, hoping to catch someone's eye and strike up a conversation. Oddly enough, the feeling of having a pack made me giddy.

After another few hours of attempted chatter, I was back on the pickup, this time standing on top of the cab. I whistled before I could think to stop myself and all heads turned towards me - furred and not. From within the crowd, I caught Dean's eyes, a reassuring smile on his freckled face. I was thankful that he had agreed to help with the aftermath of the fight. Truthfully, I doubted if I could have done it alone.

The dogs immediately seated themselves on the ground around the truck - those who could at least. Some stood, leaning against each other like makeshift crutches. The air was thick with tension as I struggled to find the words I wanted to speak.

"I'm a vegetarian," I began and then sucked in a shaky breath immediately after, face flushing. That was not what she wanted to say. "My point is... we all have very different lives. I never wanted to be an alpha. I wanted the threats against me to end, and I wanted the deaths of the humans to end. I never wanted..." I gestured to the pack, "... this..."

I ran a hand nervously through my hair and turned my gaze away from my newfound pack. A part of me was disappointed that I had chosen to send them away.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I know I... hurt a lot of you. I know I disrupted your life here. And I know that many of you have very different morals than me. That's why..." I paused and took a deep breath. "That's why I've decided to disband the pack." Hushed whispers filtered through the skinwalkers below me, some of relief, some of shock.

"I never wanted to hurt anyone, and I worry that if I stay alpha – something none of us want – then someone else is going to get hurt. This pack would never thrive by the way I've taken it. So... let's cut our losses and go our separate ways," I spoke with a final weak shrug, not entirely sure how to explain this to them. It felt so alien to me, talking to a group of skinwalkers as their apparent leader, even though I was one of them.

"But," I started again, tone firmer this time, "If I hear that any of you have been hurting innocent people again, I'll be sure to track you down and kill you myself. Worse than I did Chikaltio. That's it."

I hurriedly hopped down from the truck, avoiding their gazes, and passed through the few dogs that were, for a short time, my pack. The Winchesters watched me with intent gazes as I marched towards them, head held high.

I stopped in front of Dean, holding his stare for a moment before saying, "Take me home." I had meant to phrase it as more of a question, but it sounded blunt and demanding as my voice shook. The elder Winchester smiled. "Gladly, sweetheart."

—

I had never been happier to be home, in my own house, in my own bed. I was so excited when I took a shower, washing the dirt and grime and depression from my skin, and cleaning the blood from my hair. The tub would be a nightmare to scrub, but at least I was finally clean.

I sighed and rolled onto my back, gazing at the ceiling. Despite my exhaustion, sleep evaded me, always just out of reach. Images of the recent fight floated through my mind; in a way, I was glad, as I was not yet plagued by the nightmares that were sure to come.

I rolled onto my side once more, gazing out the large window of the second-story loft. I tried to imagine running in that open glade just outside the thin glass, tall grasses brushing against my fur, the wind parting my thick coat until it trailed its icy fingers down my skin. Instead, all I saw were the broken, bleeding, and lifeless faces of those I had killed. The skinwalker with a bullet-ridden chest that I had chosen to put out of its misery. The russet hound his neck I had crushed until blood dripped into its throat, staining my jaws. And finally, Tom Chikaltio, blue eyes lifeless and fur receding back into his skin as he fell to the ground with a dull thump.

I didn't even try to stem the flow of tears that slipped down my cheeks.

[unholybacon355]

Everything stays in the family: Part Five

Park Jihyo x G!P Huh Yunjin

Word Count: 3.7K

TW: Incest.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

DISCLAIMER: I'm adding this disclaimer because I think it's necessary.

This story have some taboo themes like incesto to name one. I need to say that obviously some of the things I wrote here aren't good and by any means I'm trying to make it look like good and normal things. Read at your own discretion.

Everything you see here is fiction and many things in this story are not really good. This is for fun and only for that. Also, all the characters you see here are adults and Jihyo is older, but I'm not specifying how old she is.

Another thing to say is that I have no clue about how human bodies actually work, so you can't expect me to be very accurate about some things. I'm not saying what because I want you to figure it out as you read.

Summary: Things in Yunjin's life really turn upside down when someone unexpected returns from her past. After that everything becomes chaos in her life.

CHAPTER FIVE

Yunjin's blood ran cold instantly. All the embracing heat she had been feeling until then left her body in a rush, giving way to an icy cold that threatened to turn her into an ice statue. She had been so immersed in her own fantasies and the pleasure she was feeling, that she was not able to hear Jihyo's footsteps approaching the laundry room.

“Yunjin, I asked you a question.” Forcing her arm to move, Yunjin moved the worn thong away from her face, but kept her grip on the garment covering her cock. “Are you not planning to respond?”

“Jihyo, I…” She didn't know what to say, even without looking at her mother the redhead couldn't find the right words to respond. But frankly those words might not have existed. Because what can you say to your mother when she catches you masturbating with her used panties? There was no way to articulate a coherent sentence to answer that question.

“Huh Yunjin. I swear if I have to ask you one more time I'm going to be really angry.” The truth was that could not be heard any anger in Jihyo's voice. Maybe upset, yes, but not angry. Which was strange because the normal thing would have been for her to get very angry right away. After all, no matter how much Jihyo asked, the truth was that Yunjin still had the older woman's thong tightly wrapped around her penis. Not only that, but said garment was covered in Yunjin's thick semen.

The redhead turned around slowly, as slowly as she had moved the black panties away from her face, trying to bend over in a pathetic attempt to hide her crotch. But the truth was that nothing could separate her from Jihyo's inquisitive gaze. Because although she didn't sound angry, she was frowning and was drilling her daughter with her gaze.

It was clear that Jihyo had gone to the laundry room to leave more dirty clothes because at her feet there was a small pile of clothes, which she had presumably dropped when she found Yunjin in that embarrassing situation. The woman was wearing a two-piece light blue silk pajama, shorts and a tank top, so it was also clear that she had planned to go to bed early that day. Sadly for Yunjin that had not happened and instead Jihyo had decided to finish leaving the dirty clothes where they belonged.

“Jihyo, sorry.” The words barely left Yunjin's lips, her mouth had gone dry and a lump had formed in her throat. Plus the redhead didn't dare look the older woman in the eyes, she didn't want to be judged by that severe look. “Please don't think anything strange about me, I…”

“You still don't answer my question.” Jihyo cut her off.

“Yes, it is what it seems, but please…”

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you were doing.”

“I…I…” Yunjin couldn't fathom the idea of saying out loud what he had been doing, much less saying it in front of her mother. But she knew that if she didn't she would be stuck here forever, it was better to do it once and for all. “I was masturbating with your underwear.” Yunjin could feel the blood rushing to her face again,dyeing it red.

But instead of starting to scold her, Jihyo stretched out her hand towards Yunjin. “Give them to me.” She stayed for a few seconds with her hand open waiting for Yunjin to act. “Yunjin hand me my panties right now.” The tone with which she spoke was firm.

The redhead didn't want to take her hand off her crotch, partly to avoid revealing her member and partly because she didn't want to give the dirty garment to her mother. But she knew that it was better not to disobey Park Jihyo when she had given you an order, and this was not going to be the time that she did not listen to the woman. So, full of shame, Yunjin put the underwear in her mother's hand.

Jihyo took the garment and held it up to examine it better. She stretched it out and saw how it was soaked with her daughter's semen, it was so much that it stuck to her hand and a few drops fell to the floor. She then tightened the garment causing more semen to leak out and smear all over her hand and threw the garment onto the pile of dirty clothes at her feet.

“What were you doing with the other pair?”

Yunjin was too embarrassed to admit that she had been sniffing the worn garment, but at least it wasn't covered in her fluids. “I was smelling them.” She said finally looking at the floor from the weight of shame.

“Little pervert, do you like the smell of my vagina?” The question threw Yunjin a little because it wasn't at all what she had been expecting.

"Yeah." That brief statement did not at all reflect how much Yunjin had enjoyed smelling Jihyo's panties. She had the urge to tell her that she thought it was the most wonderful scent in the world and that she would give anything to smell it again, but she managed to do it and hold back. If she said any of those things right now it would only make her situation worse.

“On your knees, right now.” Yunjin thought for a second if she heard correctly, because she didn't understand why Jihyo wanted her to kneel, but she prepared to beg for forgiveness like that. In the midst of her confusion she forgot to put her penis back inside her pants, plus one of her knees ended up on the panties full of semen that Jihyo had dropped a few moments ago. “If you wanted to smell so bad, you should have asked.”

Even more confused than before, Yunjin watched as her mother put her hands on the hem of her shorts and began to lower it, sliding the garment over her toned thighs. She then folded the shorts and left them on the floor a little away from the pile of dirty clothes. What came next confused the redhead even more because now Jihyo was taking off her panties. In the same way as she did before, she folded the garment and left it on top of the shorts before standing in front of her daughter.

Right now Yunjin was kneeling on the floor looking up at Jihyo who was wearing nothing but a pajama top, which showed a lot of her tits and abdomen. But what really caught the redhead's attention was her mother's crotch. In front of her she could see the vagina she had been fantasizing about all day. Yunjin was perfectly able to see the delicate but thick lips of Jihyo's vulva, the small bud that hid her clitoris, and the perfectly manicured patch of hair on her mons pubic. In Yunjin's opinion it was the most perfect vagina she had ever seen in her life, but that wasn't something she was going to say right now.

Yunjin didn't understand what was going on or what Jihyo wanted, but she was sure she could spend hours staring at the older woman's private parts. Such a perfect creation should be admired and adored, and the redhead was precisely in a position to do that. It was as if she was kneeling worshiping an omnipotent goddess, and thanking her for letting her exist on the same material plane as her. Except for the small detail that she was actually staring hungrily at her mother's crotch.

“Aren't you going to sniff? Isn't that what you wanted?” Jihyo's questions brought the redhead out of her reverie and made her swallow, laboriously because she still felt a lump in her throat. Did the older woman really want Yunjin to sniff her vagina? This had to be some kind of joke because there was no chance in the entire world that instead of getting a reprimand she would be receiving an reward like this. Although there was also the possibility that Jihyo was playing with her and just wanted to make her look like an even bigger pervert, so she could later accuse her to her father.

All kinds of terrible thoughts crossed Yunjin's mind at that moment, each one worse than the last. She imagined herself being kicked out of the house, having to drop out of college, and even having to turn to her biological mother after everything that had happened. But fortunately for the redhead, none of that would ever happen, although she didn't know it yet.

“Be a good girl and obey your mother.” The sudden mention of the word “Mother” caused an unexpected effect on Yunjin. The girl knew that what she was doing right now was wrong and totally prohibited under normal circumstances, but it had already become clear that these were not normal circumstances. So hearing Jihyo refer to herself as her mother only made her want this even more.

Allowing herself to be carried away by the moment, and obeying her mother, Yunjin closed her eyes and brought her face closer to Jihyo's crotch. Without touching her, she inhaled strongly, instantly feeling how her nostrils were filled with the aroma of the woman's vagina. Sniffing from the very source of that wonderful aroma was even better than doing it from used panties, there was no possible comparison. Now Yunjin could feel every delicate note in the woman's scent, as if she were sniffing an expensive wine before tasting it. And that was exactly what she wanted to do, Yunjin wanted to test if the taste of that perfect vagina was also much better from the source.

The mere thought of being able to lick Jihyo's fluids directly from the woman was causing her mouth to water. She was so close that it would be a sin, even greater than what she was already doing, not to get to taste her mother's sweet nectar. If after all she had already gotten into trouble. What mattered one more? That's how, feeling that she had nothing more to lose, Yunjin stuck out her tongue and gave Jihyo's vagina a slow and surprising lick.

The redhead slid her tongue along her mother's slit, causing the latter to jump in surprise, but she remained standing firmly in front of her daughter. “You couldn't just stay with the aroma, you also had to taste, right?” Then Jihyo stroked Yunjin's hair with the same hand that was still stained with cum, causing the white fluid to stick to her daughter's hair, and gently pressed the redhead's head closer to her crotch.

Yunjin understood this action as an invitation to continue testing, so new licks invaded the woman's slit. Jihyo's glorious nectar quickly began to gush out and invade the redhead's senses. Now the flavor and aroma were more intense than before, Yunjin felt the fluids slide over her tongue as she continued licking again and again. Slowly but steadily,sorting out her mother's petals with each new movement of her warm muscle.

Soon this was not enough for Yunjin, and noticing that Jihyo continued stroking her hair and pressing her head, the redhead sealed her lips in a chaste kiss on her mother's vulva. She then opened her mouth and prepared to eat Jihyo's vagina. Her lips danced along with Jihyo's petals in a perverted kiss that strayed from all conventional ways of relating between a mother and her daughter. But that was what made it so precious to Yunjin, the fact that this act was highly prohibited gave the redhead more pleasure. It was as if knowing that the act she was carrying out will add an extra flavor to Jihyo's fluids, as if that whole twisted situation did nothing but make Yunjin more and more addicted to a nectar that should be totally forbidden to her.

But yet here it was. In the cold laundry room, kneeling over a pair of panties soaked in her own cum, and with her face buried in her mother's crotch while she practically devoured her vagina. And although Yunjin couldn't see it, Jihyo had her eyes closed and her mouth open in a moan that never came out of her, showing that she was also enjoying that twisted situation. Of course, that was more than evident if you took into account how much she had gotten wet, since she was practically soaked because of her daughter. At this point the woman's sweet and delicate nectar was dripping down Yunjin's chin, combined with the young woman's own saliva.

Because when you devour like Yunjin was doing right now, you don't get to worry about manners. There's no concern for decor or niceties, Yunjin was simply doing her best to satisfy this newfound hunger for her mother's fluids. That's how she slid her hands down the woman's powerful thighs, until she brought them to her plump ass. Where she held on to both buttocks as if her life depended on it, as if she felt that Jihyo was going to slip away at any moment, thus putting an end to this twisted situation. But the truth was that the woman was frankly not thinking about that right now.

As had already become clear, Jihyo was also enjoying it and right now she had her fingers intertwined with Yunjin's hair while holding the redhead's head firmly. She also didn't want her daughter to go anywhere, she wanted her to stay right there and continue doing as good a job as she had been doing. She also knew that this wasn't right, that she was taking their relationship into territory where it was never supposed to be, but it felt so good that pleasure was clouding her mind right now. The fact that Yunjin showed a hunger for her that not even her husband had had pushed her out of her mind.

At first Jihyo had only thought about giving Yunjin a reprimand. It's true that she made her kneel and smell her crotch, but that was to give the perverted young woman a lesson. Maybe she had gone too far with the punishment, since Jihyo was no one to admonish the young girl for doing perverted things. Even more so when that same afternoon she had practically given her permission to masturbate anywhere in the house. Although Yunjin was no longer a teenager, she was still at that age where it was easy to get carried away by hormones, so it was normal for her to have those impulses. Added to all that, just that same morning the redhead had found Jihyo fucking herself with a vibrator, being so lost in her pleasure that she didn't hear her arrive. It was curious how the situation had reversed hours later.

For all that, Jihyo didn't believe that Yunjin had to be punished severely. So letting her directly smell her vagina just once, and then banning her from doing so for life was torture enough in the woman's eyes. The problem was that Jihyo's libido was through the roof due to the pregnancy and the stress caused by work, so she was in need of a real touch. And it was precisely that need that made her bow before Yunjin's tongue. Jihyo was so needy that masturbating no longer fully satisfied her, so the gentle touch of Yunjin's tongue sent her tumbling off a cliff she had never expected to be on.

Right now her daughter's skillful tongue was exploring the deepest confines of Jihyo's vagina, in a way that had not been explored for longer than she wanted. The muscle gathered as much nectar as possible and then brought it to Yunjin's mouth to feed the needy young woman, only causing her appetite to increase with each new lick.

The aroma, the taste, the way Jihyo's pubic hair caressed her face, and the way her firm buttocks melted in the young woman's hands were driving Yunjin crazy. Making her devour her mother's vulva with fervent hunger. It was perhaps the most passionate and needy kiss that she had given in her life, and also by far the most perverted and exciting. Yunjin's cock was throbbing with pain because it wasn't being attended to, but right now the redhead's hands were glued to her mother's glorious ass and she had no intention of getting her out of there.

That is until abandoning to her lowest instincts, Yunjin accidentally grazed the woman's delicate clitoris with her teeth. Which caused Jihyo to pull her away from her crotch and look directly at her. Yunjin looked back at her with pleading eyes because she thought that everything had come to this point, that her mother had reconsidered and had come to her senses. But again she was wrong.

"Dear. “I know you are desperate, but you have to be gentle with your mother.” Jihyo caressed her face lovingly before holding her head again. “If you promise to behave, I will let you continue eating.”

“I'm sorry mother, it won't happen again.” Yunjin didn't understand why she had called her mother in a situation like this, but that seemed to intensify the strange relationship they were having right now.

"Good girl. Now keep eating. I'm very near." Jihyo pressed Yunjin's face against her crotch again, but this time instead of just keeping her close to her, the woman decided it was time to go for more, so she started moving her hips, practically fucking her daughter's face.

Jihyo rubbed her crotch, putting special emphasis on letting Yunjin continue using that tongue that had turned out to be so skillful. From the noises the woman had occasionally heard coming from her daughter's room, Yunjin had had quite a bit of practice with Chaewon. Which right now Jihyo thanked greatly for all the pleasure she was receiving.

The older woman had her toes curled in anticipation of the orgasm that was getting closer and closer. She was so close to finally climaxing that she felt almost like she was rising. Earlier that day Yunjin had ruined her orgasm by barging into her room, and she hadn't been able to masturbate anymore after that, so she had been in a weird mood all day. She had been rubbing her thighs together to get some friction, and had even sneakily rubbed her vagina in a pathetic attempt to receive some pleasure. Which had made her wet the panties that Yunjin had been smelling, so it seemed fair that now it was precisely her daughter who led her to the much-precious orgasm. A climax that didn't take long to arrive.

Yunjin had put so much effort into practically devouring her that all her work quickly paid off, pushing Jihyo into the release she had long awaited. Jihyo stood still as she came, releasing a thick stream of his fluids onto Yunjin's face, who received the liquid with her mouth open, trying to swallow as much of that precious nectar as possible.

"Good girl." Jihyo said between small gasps, while the electric sensations still ran through her body, the product of that precious sexual climax. She stood there for a moment, stroking her daughter's hair and scratching the back of her neck as a sign of gratitude. As if more than a good girl, it was an obedient puppy.

Right now the only evidence that Jihyo had had an orgasm seconds ago was her somewhat labored breathing, and that she had to move back to find support because her legs were shaking. The woman leaned her weight against the wall trying to regain her composure, while her mind was still somewhat clouded by pleasure. Yunjin, meanwhile, remained on her knees, still savoring the feast she had just devoured, not really understanding if she had permission to stand up or not.

The only thing certain right now was that both women were avoiding eye contact. Furthermore, a strange silence had taken over the room, which until a few moments ago had been filled with the wet sounds that Yunjin made when performing oral sex on her mother. Neither of them knew what to say, or if it was wise to say anything in that situation. They were both regaining their common sense from the clutches of lust, so they were beginning to understand what they had just done. Yunjin had performed oral sex on her stepmother, her father's wife, the woman she now called her mother.

Both of their cheeks were red with embarrassment, no longer from arousal, and a sense of guilt was spreading through them like a wildfire. Jihyo had cheated on her husband with her own daughter, someone much younger than her and whom she was supposed to take care of. Not letting her perform oral sex to the point of filling her face with her fluids.

But despite all the negative implications, they both knew deep down that they had enjoyed it. How else they could explain Jihyo's orgasm, or why Yunjin's penis was still hard? Oh, the pleasure they had felt had been very real, and they both knew it had been the best sexual encounter they had had in weeks.

Jihyo was the first to decide to act, mostly driven by the fact that she was the responsible adult here. So she cleared her throat before bending down to pick up her underwear and pajama shorts, but she made no attempt to put them on, it was unnecessary to try to cover herself. Yunjin had seen her private parts twice that day, and one of them had been from very, very, close.

“Yunjin… Don't forget to finish putting the clothes in the washing machine and turn it on.” Apparently Jihyo had decided for now to pretend that nothing had happened, which unnerved Yunjin a little. But before she could reply the woman spoke again. “You should take a shower, your face and hair are stained.” And before Yunjin could answer that the woman turned and walked away, leaving the redhead alone in the laundry room. Still on her knees over the panties she had soiled with her own semen. Still with her penis out in an erection that was slowly declining, and with her head and heart very confused.

[sarahlizziewrites]

Re: Historical accuracy in fiction

Tl;dr: it is not your job as a fiction author to provide complete historical accuracy. It is your job to evoke a time period and communicate it. Don't get bogged down in research unless you really want to.

First of all, this is my disclaimer: I am talking about the kind of things I like to read and write. I am speaking as a historical fiction fan, author and lover of history. This is my personal taste.

Perfect historical accuracy in fiction is massively overrated. In the past have gotten stuck on writing historical fiction pieces because I felt I needed to research more. This killed my story. The piece of art that could have been amazing sat languishing on a hard drive forever.

I do not think historical fiction needs to be stunningly accurate. In fact, it's easy to see when an author has clearly over-researched their book: it reads like a history text that talks about topics your average person would have never even thought about.

Example:

What an author I read recently thought a 1st century Roman citizen would think about: Ah yes, I remember the British campaign like it was yesterday, even though it was ten years ago, in AD 61. Nero was emperor then....etc.

Me, when I think about something that happened 10 years ago: Shit, that was 10 years ago? Wait, was David Cameron PM then?

(And I know how to read and use Google.)

I'm not saying "don't research the time period you are writing in". I'm saying "research the time period you are writing in as much as you feel like doing, then forget most of it when you get in your character's head, except for what might be meaningful for them".

It is not necessarily the purpose of historical fiction to give readers a detailed and realistic version of the time period. All you really need to give them is the vibes that make them feel as though they're in that time.

I just saw a post that explained how Medieval Europeans had access to spices we might usually associate with Indian cuisine. But is that what people would expect to see in a story set in Medieval Europe? No, and you don't get to put in a little "um, actually" author's note explaining every little detail that feels incongruous but is "technically" accurate. It just feels incongruous.

However, am I going to give my Indian character who lives in London in the 1930s access to curry spices? Yes, because he'd look high and low for them and I bet he'd find a good grocer somewhere in London at that time. I haven't researched how realistic that is, and I don't really care. It will still feel in-touch with the setting, and that's all I care about.

Ever since I gave up on perfect historical accuracy, I have written so many more stories in historical settings, and I love the hell out of them. Would a Louisiana jazz band tour in the UK in 1923? Maybe. But I am definitely putting a Louisiana jazz band in my novel set in the UK in 1923 because people want to see jazz in the jazz-age novel! And so do I!

The key thing is, I've only done the level of research that I'm interested in, enough to get me comfortably embedded in the time.

The fiction author's job is to deliver on the promise of the premise. Don't get caught up accidentally writing non-fiction!

You don't have to "put in your research" to write a historical novel. You get to put in as much research as you want to, and you get to disregard the stuff that doesn't spark joy, because it's your story.

I'd love to talk about this more. Historical fiction fans, what's your taste? Have you ever read anything that felt over-researched, or anything that was under-researched to the point of taking you out of the immersion? Let me know.

[how-to-fail-at-ship-jumping-au]

Hetch tutorial part 2! The rest of him.

Quick Disclaimer, this is by no means valuable information for anyone wanting to learn anatomy or how to draw on their own in any way. Simply my hyper stylized way of drawing my AU version of this character. So some of my steps are probably wrong. Got that? Okay!

I like to start generally by drawing a little stick figure to help me pose him. Then, I draw the torso and hips. The torso is kind of a mix between a triangle and a rectangle, while his hips are a rectangle. Attach them and draw the head (see head tutorial)

When drawing the limbs I like to draw the calves and forearms first. I don't know, I just like it. This is not accurate to how I draw his arms when he's not wearing a coat because I like to actually define the musculature then. But just making them kind of thicc is enough when I'm putting him in his coat. You don't need to worry too much about how his thighs look because his coat covers them.

Erase all unnecessary lines and start drawing the coat!

Erase the parts of the body covered by the fabric and you can (optionally) begin to sketch out the design on the coat.

As you can see, the way I draw Hetch for this AU is a little different from his cannon design. This is because I was planning on having Hetch's appearance change as the story moved on and his initial design is how he behaves before all of the unpleasantness takes full route and also because it was hard to find references of him initially. As you can see, his coat markings are meant to be similar to circuit board lines, but not so much that it's something you have to pay extra close attention to.

Finally, do the line art and color him in!

What a handsome bbg he is!

[alatismeni-theitsa]

I swear I remember seeing your critique/opinion on the Hades game at some point but now I cannot find it. I've scrolled through so many of your posts and tags and I still can't find anything in relation to it. Despite remembering your name attached to the post, I'm starting to convince myself that I saw someone else's post and not yours.

In any case, I would really like to know your thoughts on it. I'm not Greek but I am a casual player of the game, and recently (thanks to a friend of mine who is Greek) I've been interested in how Greek people view the way Greek mythology is being used in western media. So far I've only seen rants on Lore Olympus, which is admittedly a story I've always disliked. Even without the context of it misusing Greek mythology and spreading misinformation about the culture, it is still in general just a bad story with equally bad characters. The fact that it IS bastardising Greek mythos is the cherry on top, but without it it can't stand on its own two feet. It's literally relying on the content of Greek myths, otherwise it would not have gained the positive attention it still has today, yet it still has the audacity to treat the context of Greek myths and culture so poorly. I have a lot of beef with Rachel Smythe because of this. It's why I'm anonymous, I don't want to get harassed by her fanbase if they see this 😅

Hades, on the other hand, is a game I enjoyed a lot, and because of that I want to challenge myself and possibly learn a thing or two from an actual Greek person. I don't want to just agree with someone when it is something I already dislike and then completely ignore them when it has to do with something I do like but possibly has problems.

If you haven't shared your thoughts yet, I'd really love to see them. If you've already made a post or more about it, I would appreciate you directing me to them or to the tags where I can find them, cause I'm genuinely lost (how does Tumblr work???)

I'm sorry for the long ask, I understand you spend a lot of your time answering questions and dealing with ignorant people. It must be tiring. Thank you for your time ❤

Hello! Thank you for the asks and the supportive words 💙 here's the tagged posts :) the tag is #hades game . (Tumblr doesn't make our lives easy, does it?)

TL;DR for those who won't bother to look: Game looks fun and I'm thinking of playing it in the future but it's far from "Greek representation" and "Greek culture". It has some references to Greek mythology; some quite obscure (so they can mess canon things up without being called out xD) and others very superficial, like when someone might think of cowboys when thinking about the USA.

While nobody minds some creativity regarding the Greek myths, and we all enjoy a fun game, it's also good to know when a "Greek myth" product is not what it sells itself to be. To be fair the game itself never said it's going to be accurate, but almost nobody checks for accuracy anymore and they assume that what they see is correct, so the game doesn't have to put a disclaimer "we are inaccurate" to begin with.

[unofficialadamtaurus]

What’re your full thoughts on season 9? I wasn’t going to watch it—especially after following along with you and other rwde blogs’ feelings on the content as the it aired—but I keep hearing this is the best written rwby season despite that. It’s a mixed bag right now, even within the more critical side of the fandom, and you always have nuanced takes, so, I figured I should ask you 🙂

You don't ask the easy questions, huh. (And I don’t reply to them in a timely manner, huh.)

I think "best written" is accurate from a certain point of view and when you keep in mind that it's being compared to other volumes of the same show. There’s a new framing device with the story, a twist villain that holds together on a second viewing, and emotional beats we’ve wanted to see hit for years. The animation itself is also good. Things are smooth and there’s even attempts at actual fight choreography. Even the voice acting is fairly consistently good.

If you can't tell already, I've said all of that with a massive disclaimer, and that disclaimer is that this volume falls apart when you look at it more closely. To me, this volume is, and I cannot emphasize this enough, frustrating. It's frustrating in a similar way to V8: you can kind of see what the writers are trying to do, but it's all executed in a way that makes you wonder what was going on in the writers' room. The plot beats, messages, and themes are not communicated well, are contradictory, or are otherwise damaging.

Heavy spoilers beyond this point if you managed to not watch it between sending this ask and me responding.

Atlas has fallen. Our heroes failed. This is the belly of the beast moment, the find-your-motivation moment, the break-the-geode-to-see-the-beauty-within moment.

And it falls so, so flat.

Penny’s death, this big moment from the previous volume, comes up a couple times but is never resolved. Jaune never states that he killed her. No one asks. Ruby is sad over her sword a couple times and that’s it.

Jaune is an old man! He’s a little bit out of his mind! Only no, he’s fine, here’s a magic knife that makes him young again.

There’s an interesting framing device! Only no, we’ll stop trying to follow it halfway through, and because the audience never knows how the story goes until the characters experience it or talk about it, there’s no interesting use of the framing device. It’s just there.

The Gods’ origin story! Only…why? Who was asking for this? Why did we need an origin myth for an origin myth? And why did it have to take up so much real estate in the final episode to boot?

To get to the main team:

Weiss’s kingdom, her home, was destroyed. She doesn’t even know the fate of her family beyond the portals. I would expect her to be the most affected by the events of the previous volume: quiet, grieving, grasping for a next step to avoid thinking about it. But no—she’s the comic relief for this volume. In addition to a mouse I personally found annoying most of the time who is also comic relief. Weiss’s trauma is almost entirely ignored except for when she talks about Penny’s death, her comment at the burning market, and one sad face in the Punderstorm. Every scene with her falling down or getting hit by a rock or cheerleading grated on me. It felt so divorced from what she should be feeling that it broke my immersion and was a significant source of frustration.

Blake is an empty character. Her whole role in this volume is two things: person who read fairy tales (that everyone else also read), and person who loves Yang. Her big hero moment is talking about a struggle to bridge humanity and Faunus that we have never seen on screen. If you’ve been bothered by Blake’s lack of agency and character in previous volumes, the former may get marginally better here at the start, but by the end they’ll both be worse than they ever were, and both a significant source of frustration.

Yang is a mess. She starts strong with the “You shouldn’t be here,” but by the end of the volume she’s turning on her sister, blaming her for her distress, and doing nothing while her sister kills herself. She puts Blake over Ruby, hell, she puts Jaune over Ruby. I couldn’t believe what she was doing, and the bees confession scene was cringe-inducing with how it made her love focus on incredibly broad or superficial things about Blake. No mention of shared trauma, or past hurt. Frustrating.

And Ruby. Poor Ruby. This was touted as Ruby's volume. She's going to be the focus, she's going to struggle. The OP hammers this point home with unsubtle imagery of Ruby crying and falling behind while her teammates carry on unbothered. That had me intrigued, because Ruby has been more or less a static character since the end of Volume 3. Her struggles have been momentary, situational, and without lasting impact, so I wanted to see her have that belly of the beast moment in her hero's journey and come out different and stronger for it.

Problems are, they went about her spiral in the most ham-fisted way possible. Ruby is obviously depressed because they have to let the audience know, but it’s to the point that I can’t believe her teammates just let things lie. As a result, her team come off as jerks. Where are the friends from the Beacon days, the ones whose reuniting was a huge moment in V5? Certainly not here, watching adult man Jaune yell at Ruby for a plan he helped create and enact. Certainly not there, slowly walking after a crying and upset Ruby who flew off in a direction Jaune should know is dangerous shortly after Neo attacked, while blaming Ruby for not talking to them when the time Ruby did, Yang brushed her off and compared her to Ironwood.

Her team dismisses her, Neo beats her to a pulp, and she commits suicide. She goes to a tree that’s been established to wipe memories and recreate people.

Is her team upset? No. Worried? No, at least until Yang sees Ruby encased in wood. But it’s all fine, because Ruby sees that her mom wasn’t perfect and that her mom thought she was perfect just the way she was as a child, and that fixes all the the trauma the entire volume hammered into your ears and eyeballs in the span of maybe two minutes.

I will pause briefly to say that Ruby’s brief fight scene is good. Genuine highlight there.

But the main villain who tortured Ruby then gets off without any resentment or frustration from the heroes. And the twist villain, whose motives are far more sympathetic to me than the main villains’, is brutally torn apart.

The dissonance between what the show seems to want its morals to be and what they actually are is staggering.

To sum up:

The status quo for the characters did not change. The status quo for the setting did not change. The status quo for the writing did not change.

If you like the show as it is, if you take it at face value, you’ll be fine, as you’ve been fine for the last several volumes. But if you try to sink your teeth in, you’ll be getting a mouthful of dust—and not even the magical kind. There is little past that other than more frustration.