#its easier to backseat write i guess but also at least so far the way salvatore writes women has been just so painful

[banished-away]

i keep thinking about how much more poignant delly's storyline would have been if she and catti-brie had been allowed to interact in a significant way before it all went to hell

delly basically wanted an idealized version of catti's life. a life of adventures and travel and to have a strong man take and save her. she has always lived in poverty half-drunk on the city streets and in stranger's beds and wanted the freedom of the outside and an idyllic little family. and then she got hit with the reality of raising a kid that isnt even her own, having to fight for your life and living closed into a fortress under siege that may as well be a prison, and basically the existence of being a stay at home wife. she feels locked in catti is someone who has lived for adventure her entire life. she has known how to use a sword since she was a kid, was raised the princess of a clan of always battle-ready dwarves, and was sorrounded by over-protective men with hardly a chance to interact with other women (we know that both among the dwarves and the reghed, once a woman marries she's basically home-bound, and when she meets alustriel for the first time she doesnt even know what perfume or cosmetics are, and feels incredibly jelous and inferior). and after a near-death experience she is now torn between this adventurous side and the side that wants to marry and have kids, which she knows is incompatible with her current life and is also running out of time for. shes a tomboy who she admits wasnt really raised as a girl but she does yearn to interact with feminity to some degree (after that first meeting with alustriel she relents and enjoys that bubble bath and later admits she was wrong in her assestment of alustriel, and a few books later when meralda offers her also a fancy bath and some gowns to borrow we see her having fun trying them on)

ultimately, even if they come from opposite ends, they want the same thing. they want to not have to compromise between adventure and motherhood, they want to be indipendant and make their own choices while also having the security of people around them caring for them when they need it. which is a very fair thing want, and yet they feel like its outside their possibilities

i think that couldve been used to properly set up the subplot. they both want the same thing but come from such different lives that its hard for them to relate and that could cause attrition. i think that centering the subplot around them and not wulfgar would have improved it quite a bit

[jackjots]

#3 Suspicions

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place around the second half of Episode 3)

Day #3 @30daysofwayward

CW: Mention of blood, alcohol mentions.

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

Reading about silver mining while laying in bed eventually got me tired enough that I fell asleep with the book in my hands. When I woke up, the book was face down on the floor. I picked it up and found it was open where pages had been ripped out. I frowned and looked up what chapter was missing: “The Werewolves of Connor Creek”.  I thought that was odd, and I wondered if the library knew their book had been torn, or if they’d blame me. I sighed and put the book on my bedside table as I got ready for the day. A day of catching up on my work, and then I could learn more about the town, I decided. With a fresh mind, it was easier to sort my priorities and shove that weird guilt I’d been feeling away from my mind.

I drank some tea I’d found in the back of a drawer, noting to myself to go get coffee from the market later, and got some writing done. I got stuck on another small detail about Norse life that would be such an easy Google search normally. As I waited for the page to load, I looked over at my notebook, flipping back to my notes about Connor Creek. I’d gotten a good chunk of writing done, the internet was being even slower than usual, and I started thinking about the book again, so I went back to the document containing my novel and typed a quick note to myself to look that up later, and closed out of everything. I brought the book to the couch and started to read again. My eyes dragged over words about the sustainability of silver mining next to gold mining, and suggested that the mysticism surrounding silver could account for the many bizarre tales that came from similar towns across the country. I thought of the chapter on werewolves, and looked through the index for any other such tales. Most of them were tales about the MacMahons greed, probably written by Connor descendants, and tales about the Connor’s inability to welcome change, probably written by MacMahons descendants. There were impartial footnotes at the bottom that suggested whoever compiled this wasn’t sure which side to believe. 

My stomach growled, and I felt like I was going nowhere with this book, so I decided to go into town. Get some coffee from the market, get some lunch from the Dead Canary, and maybe, just maybe, ask questions about the current political situation in the town, now that I was getting an idea that the town was founded on a quarrel about a quarry, I was even more curious about the current quarry quandary. The possibility that I was creating something where nothing existed was still there in my mind, but was that so bad? 

I brought the book with me, since I could read while I ate. I drove into town, and the ease in which I found a spot still made me happy. I knew eventually I would take free parking for granted, and I’d gotten a few tickets the first week before I knew exactly where to park, but for now I was pleased. 

I noticed Ryan Reynolds' face plastered all over the outside of the Dead Canary. I knew it would be cold to take them down so soon, but it was hard to look at him smiling thirty smiles at me. I gripped the book in my hand and entered the bar that seemed to hold its gloom even in the middle of the day. 

Quinn, the chef, took my order begrudgingly. I just wanted grilled cheese, but he insisted on making it bleu cheese with strawberries and balsamic for dipping. I shrugged and asked Desmond for an iced tea. 

“How’s that book goin’?” He asked as he slid me the glass.

“Trying to read it quickly, since I have to return it to the library soon.”

“A library book?” 

I showed him the stamp from the library. “Yep. It’s old school, but I kind of like that. Shame it’s a bit ripped up though.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, someone tore it up. That’s why we can’t have nice things.”

He wiped a glass and shrugged. “Not sure I’ve had many nice things.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. It’s all a matter of opinion.”

“Wise words Shelby. We’ll get your food right out to you.”

I remembered the bleu cheese and grimaced. “Can’t wait.” I paused before I went back to my booth. “Desmond?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your take on the podcasters?”

“Podcasters?” He said the word like he didn’t know how to fit it in his mouth so it came out sideways. “You mean the nosey ones, Artie and Paul?” I nodded. “They’re alright. Nosey.”

“Yeah, you said that. What exactly are they investigating? The race? The murder?”

“I don’t exactly know. All of it, from the sounds of it.”

“That makes sense. But why did they even come here in the first place?”

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” He gestured outside. “Word is they’re out there at Miner Mole right now.” 

I shook my head. “I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”

“Good idea. Here’s your lunch.”

After a surprisingly delicious meal, which Quinn nodded approvingly from the bar at me while I did so, I washed it down with the iced tea and read a bit more. The closer I got to the chapter that was missing, the more the pages alluded to the chapter. I realized it would’ve been a nice chapter to have. Despite the silliness of the topic, I knew there would be information in there, even if it was open to interpretation. I decided I could try to find the book online and order it, from the library computer so I could simultaneously return the book. 

I went up to settle my tab. “Where you off to now?” Desmond asked as I had my keys in my hand.

“Gotta get some coffee from the market, and then I think I might just head over to the library today.”

“Done with your book already?” He handed me my change.

“Actually, I think the chapters that were missing might be more important than I thought. I think I might go see if I can buy a copy myself.”

“Why is this so important to you?” 

I tilted my head. “I’m not sure, but I’m just kind of going with it.”

“Good for you.” He patted the bar. “Have a safe drive. Those turns can get hairy.”

I decided to get coffee at the market, since it was cheaper and I’d probably forget by the time I got to the library. Besides, I liked supporting the town I lived in. The mailman, Odie Doty, stopped in and got excited when he saw me. “There’s a letter waitin’ for you, it’s from your editor. They’ve liked what you’ve sent them so far, but they want more violence. Not sure why, what you sent them was mighty violent already. At least the parts I read.” 

I blinked a bit. I was still not used to the intrusiveness of the local postal service. But in some ways, it took the anxiety out of getting my mail. “Thanks Odie. Look forward to reading it.”

“You coming to the town council meeting tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” I said, which was the honest truth. My curiosity about the town was piqued, but it probably stopped at gathering with the locals. The introvert's dilemma. 

“The mayor will be there.” He said in a sing-songy voice as he left.

I hadn’t met the mayor yet. All I’d heard of her, was that she was quite a dog. Just kidding, I knew she was actually a dog, but wouldn’t that be funny? That would’ve been funny. “See you later Odie.” I called to him as I headed to my Volvo. 

“Is that your car?” His voice boomed from remarkably far down the street since he’d just been right next to me.

I pointed at the Volvo. “Yes?”

“Looks like you’ve got a flat!” 

My face fell. “Thanks.” I looked. I had four flats. My tires were slashed. I looked around, but no witnesses were to be found. Grumbling, I threw the coffee beans in the backseat and went back to the Dead Canary. “Can you call the shop? My tires are...well slashed.”

“Are they now? ‘Fraid I can’t do that, they’re closed Thursdays.” 

“Are they now?” I echoed Desmond. He just raised his eyebrows at me and I waved it away. “Fine, I’ll just walk home.” 

“Want a beer before you go? You’re walkin’ anyway.”

I chewed on my cheek for a moment and then shrugged. “Fine. I can read around the chapters that are missing, right?”

“Couldn’t of been that good if they’re gone.”

“Or they were too good.” It was one of those moments where I didn’t realize what I was saying until I heard it myself. A memory resurfaced and highlighted itself in my mind. “Desmond, did you see anyone sneaking around this book last time I was here?”

“Not sure why anyone would.”

“Me either. Except I’m fairly certain it went missing long enough for that chapter to get ripped out.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Yeah, why would anyone steal a chapter about werewolves?”

“Can’t imagine.” He repeated, as he pointedly handed me a beer. 

“What’s with all of this imagining Desmond? That’s not like you.” The curved shape of a human at the end of the bar slurred. I’d let my eyes slip over him enough times that I jumped when he spoke. 

“Okay Henry, let's get you something to eat.” 

I mouthed a thank you and went back to my spot. 

Much to my chagrin, the book drifted farther from the town as the chapters went on. I didn’t care how the silver affected the coast of California. I didn’t care about when the first bank was established. I didn’t care about the guessing game the rest of the family feud story had devolved into. I shoved the book aside and found a new beer replacing my empty cup. 

“You look like you needed it.” Desmond said and turned around.

Did I? I looked at the glass. Fine. I drank a big gulp. I saw a few patrons slip in and looked at the clock. I’d killed a lot of time with one beer and a few boring chapters I realized. I might as well stay for dinner. 

By the time dinner was in my belly (something something caprese something something), I’d also consumed another two beers. I was usually good at pacing myself, but for some reason, with my tires and the book, I was just ready to be drunk. I didn’t see Desmond, so I put the exact change out under my plate with a note ripped from my notebook. I went to my car and pulled out my coffee beans. I was going to have coffee, that was for damn sure. 

As I made my way down the street, I ran into someone lurking in the shadows; a solid form that was wearing a big fur coat. I said sorry as I blundered forward past them and passed the neon signs of Prism’s shop. I turned a corner and thought I heard something. I leaned my head back and with bleary eyes saw a shape running away. I walked back, cautiously, and looked into Prism’s shop where the door was ajar. The red stuck out to me as not red enough. It occurred to me this was my first time seeing blood, in large amounts, on a real live - a real dead person. Prism was dead. And there was someone else face down next to her. I tore back to the Dead Cannery and found Desmond cleaning a glass - how the hell does he have glasses to clean when no one was there was what my brain was saying before my voice started working. “There’s bodies, there’s bodies over at Prisms’. And I’m not sure I can handle it.” His face set grimly and he told me to sit down while he made calls and asked me where exactly. 

I wasn’t questioned so much as told what I saw. The Sheriff gave me a ride home. Trying to keep my mind from seeing the not-red-enough-red, I babbled about my slashed tires, and when she asked me why I hadn’t gotten them fixed at the shop, I told her what Desmond had told me. And she gave me a look that told me I had probably misheard him. But I hadn’t. Even in my slippery thought state, where every thought I had felt like a wriggling fish I tried to hold onto, I knew I hadn’t.

I fell into bed wearing the same shirt I’d worn all day; the drunkenness already melting into a spiky headache. As sleep started to lurk in the corners of my eyes, I thought about Desmond. The book at the bar, the slashed tires, the fact that he was gone when I’d left the bar and conveniently back after I’d found Prism...something was wrong with all of these things, and though when I pinned them on Desmond I had trouble sticking them there, they still fit too well for comfort.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

An Innocent Man

Summary (summarized request): The reader is from a community where the omegas are forced to mate with an alpha chosen by the head alpha. She manages to run away and in order to have an easier life she makes a fake mark on her neck with make up...

Pairing: Alpha Endverse!Dean x Omega!reader

Square: Endverse AU

Word Count: 5,100ish

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, illness

A/N: Written for @spnfluffbingo and @supernatural-jackles ‘s Weekly Writing challenge (For week #2, I used the prompt “Remind me why I’m still giving you a second chance.”)...

There was a rough hand stroking your cheek gently as you stirred awake. You blinked up, Dean giving you a smile as he finished tying his boots from where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Morning,” he said quietly. You nodded and tucked yourself into his back, Dean brushing your hair out of your face. “How are you feeling today, Omega?”

“Better,” you said, grabbing the back of his shirt, not really aware you were clinging to it until Dean was pushing your hand away.

“I have work to do, Y/N. I know you don’t trust anyone here besides me but all of these people in our community are good,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, rolling to your other side. Dean sighed and moved you back, brushing his thumb over the mark on your neck.

“You have no reason to trust. I don’t blame you for your fear,” he said. “No Alpha should take.”

“I still don’t understand that,” you said. “Our head Alpha said-”

“It’s only been three years, Omega. Have you really forgotten all of your rights?” he said. No, you hadn’t forgotten. You could remember exactly how everything was before the Croatoan virus, before the Alpha virus.

Sure you were Omega but you didn’t forget what it was like to be free, not looked at like an object. Dean Winchester was quite possibly the only Alpha you’d ever met that you weren’t terrified of.

“This place is not like your old community,” said Dean.

“I know. You’ve explained it to me multiple times over the past few days,” you said, nodding your head.

“I am going to give you something to calm your nerves,” he said. He stood and went to a drawer in the small corner kitchen, returning with a small hunting knife.

You sat up in bed and swallowed, Dean smiling softly as he handed it over to you.

“I am head Alpha here so I want you to feel safe. Don’t stab anyone but I know protection is important. If you ever have an issue, you may speak to any one of the camp leaders,” he said. “You have not been assigned any jobs yet since you’re still on edge.”

“On edge,” you said, taking the knife from Dean.

“You are not the first forcibly taken Omega to come here, Y/N,” said Dean. “We are well aware of what the Alpha virus did to all of us. But we don’t use it as an excuse to control one another. We create our own hierarchy here, screw the dynamics.”

“Everyone is equal here?” you said.

“Always,” he said.

“So...you really won’t give me to an Alpha?” you asked. Dean sighed and dropped his head. “Sorry. I’m just...not used to being treated like a person again.”

“As I said, you will be treated with respect. Any Alpha that gets too horny and tries something, you have full permission to kick their ass and then let me know and I’ll kick their ass again,” he said. You gave him a smile, Dean resting a hand on your head. “I told you, you can trust me.”

“Thanks for letting me stay...and not returning me,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“You’re not property last time I checked,” he said.

“Were you like...a police officer before the world went crazy?” you asked.

“No,” he laughed. “I hunted monsters. My world’s always been crazy. Everyone else just finally caught up.”

You blinked at him, Dean shrugging.

“Why do you think they put me in charge? Ain’t got no degree or diploma or nothing. Just a lifetime of experience. Never knew that’d make me so valuable,” he said.

“Right,” you said, Dean laughing when you kept staring.

“Okay, I’m going to take you over to Chuck’s and he’s going to get you antiquated with how everything works around here, okay?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll...see you later on then.”

“Chuck, you’re late,” said Sam, glancing up from a stack of papers. You looked at Chuck, the other people in the room noticing you, Dean giving you a smile from the head of the table.

“What’s up, Y/N?” he asked.

“Y/N’s pretty handy from what she tells me. She reorganized her old community’s way of taking inventory, scavenging...it made her pretty useful around those parts,” said Chuck. You ducked your head down, feeling too many Alphas eyes on you.

“Y/N,” said Dean, your gaze lifting. “Remember what I told you? Safe place?”

You nodded, allowing Chuck to guide you to take a seat.

“These are our community leaders here at the camp. Sam here is my little brother. Alpha and he’s in charge of education,” said Dean.

“Education?” you asked.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Kids and adults. There’s a school for kids. A few people around here used to teach which we lucked out on. All adults also go through basic training so in case of an emergency, everyone can defend themselves. People on security, Dean heads up that department, go through a bit more.”

“Chuck, our friendly neighborhood Beta and welcoming committee is in charge of daily necessities. Food, clothing, hygiene products, things like that. Charlie is an Omega and is head of our intelligence. Smarter than the rest of us put together. She and Sam have been working on self-sustained food production. Castiel is another Omega, former angel if you can believe it, that works our medical center. We’ve tried to set up different departments. All of us are in charge of multiple things but we have just as many Betas and Omegas here as Alphas,” said Dean.

“Cool,” you said, Chuck smirking to himself.

“Y/N was going to sit in today and just listen, get a feel for how we do things. I think her expertise might really be able to help us with some issues we have going on,” said Chuck.

“Oh,” said Dean quietly. “Well, uh...somebody get her a notebook and we’ll get started.”

One Month Later

“Y/N,” you heard as you headed out of the medical center. You spun around, Dean giving you a nod as he headed up between the cabins. “Hold up. We got to do our check in.”

“Check in?” you asked. Dean hummed, starting to head towards the edge of the camp, waving you to follow after. “What check in?”

“You’ve been here a month. I like to make sure you’re doing well,” he said.

“It’s like winning the lottery compared to where I was,” you said. Dean nodded, glancing down at his feet.

“You work very hard. Your revamped inventory system makes things a lot easier for us. To keep track of supplies we need, what we’re good on, things we haven’t even considered really,” said Dean.

“It’s was sort of necessary to be perfect in my old job,” you said.

“Doesn’t sound like it was much of a job as it was forced,” he said.

“Well...I did my job well and it kept me out of trouble for the most part,” you said. “Until the end.”

“Still...you should take at least one day a week off. It’s important. Sam said you had signs of formal training too,” said Dean.

“I dated a cop once,” you said. “Taught me most of this stuff. Apart from the crazy zombie people.”

“I’m guessing that’s how you seem pretty okay,” said Dean, making his voice low. “Some Omegas come to us in bad condition. You only have your claiming mark though.”

“I know I’m lucky,” you said.

“No. You aren’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with being afraid all the time,” he said.

“I’m not so afraid now,” you said.

“Good,” he said, licking his lips. “If there is anything you need here, please let me know.”

“May I go scavenging with you or one of the groups sometime?” you asked. Dean looked over your head and you sighed. “Please?”

“...We have a team going out after lunch. We’re hitting a pharmacy. Medicine is likely to be a bust but secondary supplies, hygiene, those might be there. If there’s something you need, I can look for you,” he said.

“Just because I’m Omega-”

“You are not on the scavenging team. You are not on the security team and you have not been trained,” said Dean. “It has nothing to do with your dynamic.”

“I was out on the road a long time, Dean, after I ran away. I know how to be quiet and take care of myself,” you said.

“...you’ll need gear if you’re going to go out there.”

“Y/N, you’re on me and Benny. Stealth operation. We’re only an hour out from home so let’s not make any unwanted messes,” said Dean. You nodded from the backseat, hand resting on the gun in its holster. Both men looked at each other before they slid out of the jeep. You followed after, jogging quietly with them around the back of the pharmacy and inside. The scouting team was already in there, one of them giving Dean the go ahead. You stuck with Dean until he got distracted with putting something in his bag. You snuck off to a far aisle and quickly grabbed what you were looking for, shoving it in your backpack, sneaking back to the end of Dean’s aisle by the time he was up.

“Stay closer,” he whispered. You nodded and crept next to him, Dean going further down the aisle. He walked straight past a few boxes, your eyes wide. You grabbed his arm, his hand on his gun when you pulled him back. You pointed to the boxes but Dean just raised an eyebrow. “Not a priority.”

“Priority,” you said quietly. He sighed and held up his hands. You picked up a box, the two scouts from before grabbing them and taking them back to their car. Benny whistled softly, so low only someone in the store could have heard. You and Dean followed him over to behind a counter, the three of you staring at the boxes and boxes in there.

“Doesn’t look like it was touched,” said Benny. “Any of this stuff still good?”

“Doesn’t matter. Take as much as we can,” said Dean. They started to stack up boxes to go back in the cars, Dean keeping an eye on you. “Y/N. Stop walking away.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, still walking to the end of an aisle, shoving a few more things in your pack. You slid it back on, Dean’s hand instantly on the back of your neck.

“Disobey me one more time and I will toss you in the car,” he growled. You swallowed hard and he sighed, relaxing his hand. “Only essentials, Y/N.”

“It is essential,” you said. Dean just shrugged. “I swear.”

“Alright. Come on. Let’s swap out your bag for a new one and do one last sweep.”

There was a loud knock at your door late that night, Dean stepping inside when you said it was open. He tilted his head at you working at the small table in your cabin, leaning down over it as he watched you.

“What are you doing?” he asked. You smiled, using a few of the things you’d grabbed earlier in the day. “You made a...thing.”

“It’ll make hot water. We can set them up in the mess hall. People can make coffee again at least. We only have a ton of it,” you said.

“This was essential how?” he asked.

“Coffee is always essential, Dean,” you said. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Good point,” he said. You stood up and stretched, unplugging the thing before Dean took a seat on your bed. “Listen...I wanted to apologize to you about earlier. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wandered off,” you said.

“Still,” said Dean, resting his elbows on his knees. “The coffee thing is a good idea. People will really like that I think. A bit of normal again after everything.”

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a nod. “You eat yet? I got a chocolate bar for dessert.”

“Oh, lucky winner of the draw tonight,” he teased. “Nah, it’s yours. I know how chicks and chocolate are.”

“Dark chocolate was good,” you said. “I could go for a hot fudge sundae with a big brownie right now.”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, licking his lips. “Let’s make that this year’s goal. We make hot fudge sundaes.”

“I’m all for it,” you said, scratching your neck. Dean smiled at you, tilting his head before his face scrunched up. He stood up slowly and drew his gun, aiming it at you. “Dean?”

“Show me your neck. Now,” he growled. You swallowed, covering your neck with your hand. “I said now.”

“I’d rather not,” you said, already feeling the smudge on your fingertips.

“You have three seconds,” he said, clicking off the safety. You shut your eyes and turned your neck to face him, rubbing your thumb over your mark a few times, Dean scoffing. “Is that fucking makeup? No wonder you wanted in on the scavenger run.”

“...I...my old community...most people leave claimed Omegas alone...it was easier to pretend, made being on the road by myself safer,” you said.

“Over here,” he barked. You shook your head, Dean stalking over. He had you turned around and pinned against a wall like that, a pair of handcuffs on you before he was trudging you out your door. “Now we get to do this the hard way.”

“Dean,” you said, trying to jerk away, realizing he was heading for his own cabin. “Dean stop.”

“Shouldn’t have lied. Now I have to find out what else you’re lying about,” he said. He dragged you up the front steps of his cabin and practically tossed you across the room, your back hitting the end of a bed. You were able to sit up, Dean squatting down in front of you.

“I-I can be useful,” you said. “I can be more than just an Omega, I swear. I’ll do two jobs.”

“You currently have no jobs,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Other than one very obvious one.”

“If you’re gonna do it, just do it,” you snapped, a strange confidence hitting you. “I’m not going to grovel and let you get off on it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he said.

“Big stupid Alpha. You’re all the same,” you said, looking around, trying to figure out any way out. Dean picked you up and set you down on the bed. You kicked at him and scrambled against the wall, Dean’s held tilting. “Stay away from me.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your arm, a yelp escaping you. He stared at you long and hard until he reached behind your back and undid the cuffs, pulling them away. You brought your hands to your chest as he stood and backed away, shoving his cuffs in his pocket.

“I didn't cuff you and bring you in here to claim you, Omega. I wanted to question you about why you lied and if you were potentially a spy but all evidence points to something less...manipulative. You’re just scared,” he said.

“I want the Omega on call,” you said. Dean nodded, exiting the cabin, returning a few minutes later with Castiel. “He’s your friend.”

“He’s the Omega on call,” said Dean.

“What did you do?” asked Cas. “I could smell the fear coming off her halfway across camp. Others will be sure to notice.”

“I abused my Alpha status with a vulnerable Omega,” said Dean dryly.

“You are housebound for the next day while the committee investigates,” said Cas. “Y/N, come with me. You’re staying with me tonight.”

“Hi,” said Dean a few days later. The committee realized it was a misunderstanding that caused your panic. You nearly got in trouble yourself for lying about being claimed already but they understood your reasoning.

You ignored Dean, brushing past him on your walk. He quickly caught up, giving you at least a little bit of space.

“Y/N. Come on. I apologized at the hearing. You’re the one that lied,” he said.

“To protect myself. We weren’t all so fortunate to become Alphas,” you said, turning around, Dean stopping dead in his tracks. “I have seen strong people become nothing more than toys to their Alphas. I am not letting that happen to me so I lied and I ain’t sorry about it.”

“But you’d never have an Alpha, ever, if you kept up that rouse,” he said.

“I’m sorry. Have I not made myself clear? I don’t want an Alpha. Ever,” you said.

“Can I be your friend again at least?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. You looked at the ground, a strange scent in the air. It was horribly unpleasant, as if someone had taken Dean’s naturally pleasant one and dipped it in something putrid. You lifted your head, Dean standing with his face soft, a slight submissiveness about him you hadn’t seen in an Alpha before. “Remind me why I’m still giving you a second chance.”

“Because the dynamic thing has no place here and you don’t realize how much tougher you are than I am,” he said, kicking the ground. “And I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

“You can start by giving me some space,” you said.

“I can do that.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hi,” said Dean, knocking on your door. You popped your head up and stared at him, Dean smiling from the other side of the screen. “Can I come in?”

“I guess,” you said. Dean kept a smile on as he walked over and sat across from you at your table, pulling out his own notebook. “Yes?”

“Would you help me with something?” he asked.

“What is it?” you asked.

“What’s it like being Omega?” he asked. You wanted to roll your eyes but there was a genuine curiosity in his voice. You shrugged, Dean biting his bottom lip. “Please?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t feel much different than when we were all just people,” you said. “Some people smell better than others. Heats are like a period pretty much. I can’t give much help on the whole being bit in the neck and then bound to another person for the rest of eternity thing though.”

“I think sometimes it’s a good thing. It can be bad but it’s sort of like getting married,” he said.

“So you’d claim an Omega?” you asked.

“If I loved them and they loved me,” he said.

“It’s still ownership,” you said.

“So is marriage,” he said.

“Marriage you can get out of,” you said.

“I didn’t come to debate, just get your perspective,” he said softly, jotting something down on his paper.

“My perspective is its wrong,” you said.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” said Dean, standing up. “There are several mated couples here that think differently than you do. I hope you treat them respectfully for their choices as they will treat you for yours.”

“If other people want it, that’s fine but I-“

“I understand,” said Dean. “There will be a team going out tomorrow morning, pretty far. If you could make up some supply lists or necessities and nice to haves, I’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah. I’ll have it ready by end of the day.”

Two Days Later

“Y/N, come with me,” said Cas, grabbing your arm as you were heading out of the mess hall. “Quickly.”

You kept your mouth shut as you went with him into the medical center. You followed into the back room, Dean passed out on top of one of the beds.

“He was...injured on the scavenging mission. He requires monitoring. Will you watch him for a few moments? We are keeping this quiet. If you need me, I will be at my cabin temporarily,” he said.

“Sure. What…” you trailed off, Cas getting the helm out of there and fast. “Well thanks.”

Dean groaned, flashing open an eye and then the other, blinking up at you for a brief moment. He snuggled back into his pillow, a blanket covering most of him up.

“Hey,” you said.

“Sorry,” he said, closing his eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize. Are you hurt? Do you need anything?” you asked.

“Sorry,” he mumbled again, staring up at you.

“Dean? Did you hit your head?” you asked. You ran your fingers over his scalp gently, Dean taking a big whiff of the air. “Dean?”

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“You’re really starting to scare me,” you said. He just kept staring at you, the door opening and Cas back by your side. “He keeps saying sorry.”

“How do you feel now, Dean?” asked Cas. He hummed, Cas snapping his fingers. “How do you feel with Y/N here?”

“Better,” he said quietly, trying to turn his head away. “Gonna hurt again though.”

“I know, Dean. Y/N, needs to know what’s going on,” he said.

“No,” said Dean, a bit of authority back in his voice.

“Dean,” said Cas.

“No!” said Dean. “It’ll go away.”

“No, it won’t,” said Cas, turning to you.

“Castiel, don’t do this to me. Please,” said Dean, taking a small breath. “Please.”

“Dean is your true mate,” said Cas. Dean snarled but stayed in bed, the thought crossing your mind that he might have been restrained under the blanket. “He has always known but believed you were claimed by another. I have been treating him for his condition for some time. His long trip away from you was too much though and exacerbated the severity of his condition. Being in close proximity to him has been helping him heal although he is correct in that at some point, even that will no longer work sufficiently.”

“I thought...I thought the Omega was the one that got all shitty feeling,” you said.

“Not always and it’s not surprising you felt no spark. Your levels have been all over the place since you’ve come here and are still returning to normal. Your old community didn’t believe in true mates you said and riddled them out through pack practices,” he said.

“So Dean’s…” you said, Cas nodding. “That stuff you were asking about...you were asking if I’d ever be okay with being claimed.”

“Cas,” groaned Dean. “Fucking hurts.”

“You told me to stop using the pain meds on you,” he said.

“Do the other thing,” said Dean.

“No way in hell. That’s a last resort,” said Cas.

“What last resort?” you asked, taking a step closer to Dean, his face not so scrunched up in pain.

“I’m not doing it,” said Cas.

“She’s not my mate and I’m not forcing her!” shouted Dean.

“I’m not doing an experiment on you that won’t even work,” said Cas. “You two mate or you live with the pain. Those are your options.”

“Then I guess I’m going to be like this forever then.”

“What the hell are we supposed to about Dean?” asked Sam at the emergency meeting that night. The committee members were coming up with crazy theories on an Alpha not claiming a true mate and how he could survive successfully and this and that and the next thing.

“Maybe Y/N will change her mind once her levels are normal again, right?” asked someone. You glanced up, feeling a roomful of stares on you. “Y/N, do you want to say anything? This is your life too.”

“You’re gonna make-“

“No one is making anyone do anything,” said Sam. “You will only mate with Dean if it’s your choice, no one else’s.”

“What if he did get really sick?” you asked. “What if he was going to die?”

“Only if you want to,” repeated Sam. “That is not how this camp works.”

“Then there’s no reason to be having this discussion. It comes down to me and Dean,” you said. You left without another word, wandering around camp until it started to get dark. Dean had been moved to his own cabin, feeling a bit better now that he was back at camp but you’d heard stories of true mates. It was something you inherently knew now. The whole Alpha virus had come on fast but the alarming thing was how everyone understood things without needing to be told. Dynamics, claiming, mating, true mates. Hell, you even called babies pups half the time.

Maybe they were right. Maybe once you got used to everything, you’d have that same desire as Dean did.

Two Weeks Later

“Hi, Dean,” you said, slipping into his cabin. He was on bedrest until further notice, not that he could stand to move when he wasn’t within ten feet of you.

“Time for my daily babysitting,” mumbled Dean, pulling his blankets over himself.

“Castiel said I’m showing up like a normal Omega now,” you said.

“But you aren’t sick,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” you said, ducking your head down. “I’ve been thinking about stuff too.”

“Like?” he asked. You sat down on his bed and leaned over him, Dean swallowing as you bore your neck. “Y/N, stop it. I’m not going to do it. We talked about this.”

“Will you trust me?” you asked. He relented and nodded, allowing you to get even closer, your forehead pressing against his.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Scenting,” you said.

“You’re a little close for scenting,” he said.

“It makes you feel better,” you said. He rolled his eyes, biting his bottom lip when it twitched upwards. “How hard is it to fight it?”

“Hard,” he breathed out. “But you said you’ll never be-”

“People are allowed to change their minds,” you said. He scoffed and you grabbed his chin, turning his head to the side. “You know I never questioned why I came here to camp with you. I should have known something was up right away.”

“What? You suddenly want to be my Omega?” he asked.

“No. I don’t give a shit about that. If I see you writhing around in this bed one more day though I’m going to lose it,” you said.

“Jokes on you. I like to bottom on occasion,” he said.

“Dean,” you said, straddling his hips. Dean gulped and tried to sit up, your hands cupping his cheeks keeping him in place. “I will be your mate if you’re mine. You need it, badly. But I have one condition and it’s non-negotiable.”

“What is it?”

“Hey! If it ain’t our fearless leader back at work,” said Chuck, Dean smiling as he walked into the mess hall late that night. He stared for a moment, his eyes flickering to you as you wandered off to go find him some food. “Is that a true mate thing?”

“This?” asked Dean, pointing to his neck. “Nah. It’s an Alpha thing.”

“I thought only…” Chuck trailed off.

“Not around here. All future claims will require both partners to be marked. You know, like marriage or something like that,” said Dean, smiling when he saw you return with a plate full of food. “That looks delicious and like an excessive waste of food.”

“You need your strength up again,” you said. “You barely ate the past month.”

“You really feeling okay?” asked Chuck. Dean gave him a smile and patted him on the back.

“I swear, I’m all good now.”

“Hello, Omega,” said Dean, walking into you cabin the next day. You squirmed, Dean chuckling. “Still don’t like that?”

“I don’t like that it makes me feel all funny,” you said. He walked around for a minute, going to your back window and staring outside.

“Can I take you on a date tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, moving beside him. “It’s not a bad funny. It’s just strange to feel all fuzzy like that.”

“Guess I’m more used to feeling the fuzzies than you are,” he said. “You get used to it. Turns calm eventually, like warm or something.”

“Have you always known?” you asked.

“Yes. I wanted to go find your old community, destroy the Alpha that took you without permission,” said Dean. “But that wasn’t the smart move.”

“I ran away because the pack leader was going to give me to another Alpha. Even though I was useful, I didn’t act like I should. I would still be allowed to have my job if I took my role as an Omega more seriously,” you said. “Some people are just born bad, some good. This dynamic thing didn’t have anything to do with it. You were good before, you’re still good. That’s why I realized I’d be happy to stay with you. I mean, how many Alphas let themselves be claimed?” you asked.

“Probably more than you’d think,” he said, wearing a small smile. “So I was thinking for our date, I’d take you someplace real fancy. Real swanky place, super elite.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked.

“Yeah. Cabin 14, right around the corner. They serve up a mean bowl of beans,” said Dean.

“I bet they do,” you said, Dean chuckling again. “Just because you got lucky last night and you’re taking me to some fine dining establishment doesn’t mean I’m putting out again so soon.”

“What if I told you I managed to find a tablecloth and a pretty smelling candle?” he asked.

“Really?” you asked.

“First official date. I got to make it memorable don’t I?” he teased. “And I ain’t expecting any. Like I said last night-“

“I’m yours but not yours,” you said, Dean nodding. “You know that goes for you too.”

“Understood, Omega,” he said, smirking when you blushed. “Understood.”

[lord-explosion-baku]

Like Ghosts In Snow

While your guardian is keeping a huge secret you take on the nightlife and find yourself in a mad supernatural hellzone.

Vampire AU, Villain AU,

Warnings: EVERYONES NAMES ARE SAID BACKWARDS LIKE THE AMERICAN WAY AND I HATE MYSELF FOR IT TOO. LONG. Eventual yandere villainous bois, eventual noncon, eventual major character death

A/n: My ode to the 1987 cheesy vampire thriller, The Lost Boys. I made this to be based in the same fake California town as the movie which I feel like maybe that could be disrespectful, making these Japanese characters American but it was a lot easier writing for a fake town rather than Okinawa where I had originally tried to set this in. And I’m from California and I might be lazy, sticking to scenes that I know but what can you do? It starts off slow. I’m impatient so I’m sorry if you are too. Vampire boys will COME. LIES, DECEIPT, BETRAYEL, LOVE, AND DEATH WILL COME. Also, I don’t know how to pair this because pretty much everyone wants to bone has a thing for the reader?? The guilty pleasures are real in this fic. I mean, not in this chapter (that I’m still really excited for) but like....?!!!!? Also, Aizawa has poor parenting skills for a reason. Like, he’s not dumb. I could never make him dumb. ALSO I posted this on AO3 but I do not know how to work that site and I’m AFRAID of it. I talk too much. So here it is now. Huzzah.

Chapter 1: Margarita Night

You hummed along to the song that was playing on the stereo while Shouta Aizawa, your legal guardian, drove fast and precise up the coast highway in his red Jeep. Long black locks were flying wildly in the wind, like tendrils searching to grasp on to something. His tired eyes were hard and focused on the road but you smiled at him as he zoomed and weaved through different cars. He got a thrill from the speed.

You were moving, for the third time this year, which was saying something because it was only mid July. It was for Aizawa’s job. The two of you would travel across the country when something new, or rather, old, like relics from a different time would surface and he would start examining, dating, and researching what exactly the piece that was found was so they could be auctioned out or put in a secure location depending on how valuable the relic was. Or whatever. He didn’t go into details as to what exactly he did but when he did you never failed to zone out and start to daydream about something else. He didn’t mind. And you didn’t mind moving. You and Aizawa shared the spirit of adventure. He loved his work and you loved the rush of blood you got when you found yourself trying new things.

You scanned over one of the many articles for Santa Carla California, your new destination, that Aizawa has cut out for you to read up on. You’ve already read up the town history and now you had different clippings of local hang outs, the what to do and what not to do in Santa Carla. You took note of a pretty popular comic book store and the summer sports competitions but it was the night life that seemed to call to you on a specific page. There was a fair in town all summer long, love music, games, dancing, and other festivities. Aizawa didn’t let you out much when the sun was down but you both had agreed that that would change since you were now eighteen. You were excited to say the least.

Finally arriving to your destination, Aizawa drove through a dirt path to get to Tudor style house that sat about a hundred yards away from a cliff over looking the Pacific Ocean. The garden was hardly tended to, vines grew high over the fragmented stone wall that surrounded the house, the ground was covered in bursting star flowers, sagebrush, and ferns.

Aizawa parked the Jeep behind a dusted over yellow VW Bus. Stickers from covered the back of the bus. Some represented different cities across the country some that you’ve been to and some you have not, while most of them were stickers from different radio festivals you have heard about but never attended.

Grabbing your backpack from the backseat you hopped out of the seat and stretched your legs. You were sore from hours of sitting. You slung your pack over your shoulder and walked to the trunk where Aizawa was grabbing your and his suitcases that sat in front of Aizawa’s chest. You made a motion to grab the chest and Aizawa swatted your hand away.

“That’s gonna be too heavy for you,” he said. “I’ll get Mr. Yamada to help me with this. You go ahead and bring in the other luggage.”

You rolled your eyes. Aizawa didn’t ever want you looking into his chest but the fact that you couldn’t even touch it was a bit ridiculous. Still, you walked up the steps to the front door, backpack on, dragging both suitcases behind you, a petty attempt to show Aizawa you weren’t weak, you used your head to ring the doorbell.

Thunderous barking immediately answered the call of the doorbell. Frightened you dropped the luggage and took a step away from the door. You hadn’t known you’d be living with a dog. You were heard some yelling and and rustling on the other end of the door and the barking was muted.

The door opened revealing a very tall man with thick blonde hair in a bun. He wore a blue tank top that showed off his tan muscular arms and warm colored board shorts. His green eyes peaked over his reading glasses at you and smiled revealing dazzling white teeth.

“Wow,” was what he said. “F/N L/N. Aizawa told me about you. He told me his kid was brilliant, too smart for her own good, tough, and charming, but he never told me how much of a stunner you are!”

Your mouth fell open, unable to know how to respond to that. He grin grew wider as a blush dusted your cheeks. You hadn’t expected him to be so friendly.

Aizawa was to your side instantly.

“Shouta!” The man exclaimed clasping his hand to Aizawa’s a pulling him into an embrace. “It’s been far too long!”

“Y/N, this is Hizashi Yamada, or you may know him as Present Mic. He’s a radio host for the local Santa Clara station and a very old friend of mine.”

You gave him a slight smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yamada,” you said offering him your hand.

He took your hand and turned it over kissing the back of it and looking up into your eyes he said, “Call me, Hizashi. And the pleasure is all mine, little one,” with a wink.

Aizawa cleared his throat and Hizashi let out a chuckle. “Let me help you with your bags,” he said picking up your suitcase from the ground and offered to take your backpack, letting his hand travel to the strap on your shoulder. Bashfully you shook your head, excusing his hand, and you made a mental note of the man’s lack of personal space. You were taught to be kind but not stupid. You didn’t think Aizawa would let you live with a man that could be dangerous though.

You followed Hizashi up the stairs and to your new room. The room was larger than what you were used to. The ceiling was tall though it slopes d downwards with the roof, a stream of lights hung around the room, and posters from old bands you didn’t know were plastered against the walls. A queen sized bed with a beautiful wooden headboard sat in the middle of the room. The bedspread was a royal purple with purple and black shiny pillows. It was a tad much but you didn’t mind having a lot of space for you to sleep.

“The sheets are Egyptian cotton,” Hizashi said placing your suitcase down by your closet doors. “It gets pretty hot up here and I’d want for you to be as comfortable as possible while you stay here. If you need, I could bring a fan up later. The window opens but just slightly. It’s been weathered down from the pacific breeze.”

“It’s nice,” you said walking around the room. “I’m not used to having this much space.”

Hizashi smiled gleefully at your approval. “Well, I’ll be down in the kitchen with Aizawa talking old man business type stuff and my,” he paused for a split second, “intern should be here shortly and I’d like for you to meet him. You’re about his age so I’m hoping the two of you will get along.” The way he said that made you doubt that you would in fact get along. “The bathroom is down the hall to the right. It takes a while for the shower is get warm. Old heater. But the pressure is nice!” You nodded at him and he excused himself.

Immediately you started to unpack your clothes into the spacious drawers of the dresser that sat across from your bed, trying to figure out what to wear. You had on sweat shorts and t-shirt, so you’d be comfortable driving for hours on end by you wanted to be at least slightly presentable for meeting someone, a boy, your age, even if you might not get along. You settled on a white tank top and a black skater skirt with black tights. It was too hot to really care for looking pretty anyways.

You trotted down the stairs and slipped into the kitchen. The kitchen was fairly modern styled with an island in the middle. Hizashi has his back turned to you while he sliced limes. He hadn’t heard you come in but someone else had.

“WOOF!” You heard causing you and Hizashi to jump. You turned to the noise and saw a giant red husky running your ear. Before you could react the husky jumped at you causing you to fall back onto the kitchen tiles. He husky had you down with his paws on his chest and he examined your face giving you many sniffs. You kept your hands to your side and avoided looking into its eyes so it wouldn’t see you as a threat.

“Eijirou!” Hizashi yelled across from the kitchen.

The husky took a moment to look away from you and at Hizashi and back at you, giving your face a long lick. When you didn’t push him away he continued to lick your face to your dismay.

“Awwww he likes you!” Hizashi said.

“I-“ you started but Eijirou kicked your mouth when you opened it causing you to finally push him away, “gah! I guess!”

Hizashi pulled the husky away by his collar allowing you to stand back up. “This is Eijirou! I found him a couple months ago! He’s my most bravest boy and he’s very protective of this house! I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about him but I am surprised that he didn’t growl at you! It took him awhile to get used to my intern!”

Eijirou woofed at you again but this time his tail was wagging. You went to let him behind his pointed ears and he leaned in to your touch.

You heard the front door open and Aizawa came in carrying his trunk with a spiky haired blonde boy. “To the left,” Aizawa said and they scooted there way with the chest towards the door towards what you assumed to be Aizawa’s bedroom. “Alright we can put it down here. I can take it from here,” he said.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. You couldn’t even touch the trunk but some boy you didn’t know could help Aizawa carry it? Whatever.

“Bakugou!” Hizashi called to the kid. “Come meet Aizawa’s daughter!”

Instinctively, you moved towards Hizashi and away from the door frame. You didn’t know why you were nervous but you were.

The boy, sporting a black tank top and black sweats made his way over towards the kitchen, wiping away the sweat from his forehead with his arm that was bandaged up. He stopped at the doorway leaning against it.

“Hello,” You said quietly giving a slight wave. He just scowled at you. Yikes.

“Y/N, this is Katsuki Bakugou! He’s been helping me with some projects for about two months now! He’s been a ton of help!”

“Hello,” You said Again, this time with a little more confidence.

He looked you up and down, almost as if he were sizing you up, as if you could be a threat to him. You crossed your arms, out of discomfort but also trying to make you look a little more tough. It was pointless. Bakugou turned his attention to Hizashi. “Did you get my text?” His voice was low and rough. It annoyed you that you thought it was a little attractive. You didn’t like this guy one bit.

Hizashi was surprised. “I- yes! Of course I did!”

“You didn’t respond,” Bakugou said walking passed you and Eijirou towards the fridge.

“I didn’t. It’s not important right now. I had to deal with something a little more important.”

“And that would be?” Bakugou asked into the refrigerator.

Hizashi dropped the lime slices into four classes filled with a frothy green liquid. “I made margaritas!” He beamed.

Bakugou came up from the fridge with a beer in hand. He used his keys to open the bottle. He stared at Hizashi as he took a sip from the bottle. Yikes.

Hizashi sighed. “Y/N, I already asked Shouta if this would be okay. You’ll have a margarita, won’t you?” He said, extending a beverage towards you.

How could you say no when you were a guest in his house and he had already made one? You couldn’t. You smiled sweetly at him and took the margarita in your hand sipping on it. You tried not to scrunch your face up at the strong taste. Hizashi returned your smile.

Aizawa trudged into the kitchen.

“Hey, were having it’s margarita night, grab a glass!” Hizashi commanded Aizawa. Aizawa gave him a dry look but still accepted his beverage. Eijirou began to growl at Aizawa when he got too close to Hizashi. Hizashi patted his head to calm him down.

Aizawa took a sip of Hizashi’s creation. “Christ, did you pour the entire bottle into this?!” He said putting the glass down. Bakugou offered him a beer which he gladly took.

“Wha- no!!” Hizashi said now slightly annoyed. “The kids in Santa Clara like ‘em strong these days!” He said throwing his hands up spilling some of his drink to the floor. Eijirou moves to lap up the liquid but recoiled after giving it a curious sniff. “Well Y/N likes my drink, don’t you?”

You were already halfway done with your drink. You had to hold you breath to drink it down. You didn’t want to be rude but you also wanted it to be over. Hizashi poured Aizawa’s drink into his now empty glass and poured what would have been Bakugou’s into yours. Okay so maybe sometimes you were too kind and that was stupid. And a little dizzy. You hiccuped a response.

You could almost make out a smirk on Bakugou’s face.

“We need to talk about the email from Fulukado.” Aizawa said to Hizashi.

“But it’s... margarita night,” Hizashi nearly pouted holding his glass in both hands like a child with a toy.

“Hizashi, this is important.” Aizawa glared at him and Hizashi shrugged defeated.

“All work and no play makes Shouta a dull boy,” Hizashi drains his drink and made his way out of the kitchen. “Bakugou, why don’t you take Y/N into town. Show her a good time. I’m sure she’s dying to explore.”

You were on the floor playing with Eijirou. You let him like your red face and you giggled at the goofy dog.

“I can’t take her anywhere! She’s drunk!” Bakugou called back.

“Am not!” You crossed your arms like a child. Eijirou woofed at Bakugou as if agreeing with you.

Hizashi came back, holding a key in his hand. “This is for the house. I keep it locked up at night. You can’t be too careful.” He studied you on the floor, wide eyed, running your hands through the dog’s soft fur. “Aizawa, are you okay with her going to town right now? I know Bakugou is responsible enough. He wouldn’t let anything to happen to her.”

Aizawa sighed and looked at you. You gave him a pleading look. He knew you craved independence. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Absolutely!” You said standing up. “I could totally say my ABC’s backwards, walk in a straight line, whatever. The articles you gave me were interesting! I’m dying to see the fair!”

“The fair isn’t open on weekdays,” Bakugou said dryly.

“Well there’s a comic book store in town, right? I’d love to check it out.” You took the key from Hizashi. “I’m fine! I swear!”

Aizawa considered you. You put your finger to your nose and started walking heel to toe. “Z Y X W V U T-“

“Alright. Go. Have fun.” You were elated.

“Go ahead and take Eijirou too!” Hizashi chimed in as the dog started wagging his tail.

“Seriously?” Bakugou was not happy.

“Go have fun.” It wasn’t an invitation from Hizashi. It was a command.

Bakugou scoffed and made his way out the door, not waiting for you to understand that was your cue to follow.

“Be safe,” Aizawa said as you walked through the door, Eijirou on your heels.

You waved him off. “I always am.”

~

@yandere-inamorata

Chapter 2

[wanderingthroughwickford]

Thank you! My responses are super long (especially for M asdflkasdfjkasdf) so most of them will be under a cut.

A – How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

Since no fic was specified, I think I’ll just go back through some of the ones I’ve got up on FFN. Most of them are pretty self-explanatory, to be honest. ‘Eternity’ is so named because Myrtle is stuck at Hogwarts, in her teenage form and mindset, for, well, eternity. ‘And Then There Was One’ (a probably discontinued Hunger Games/Nancy Drew crossover) is also fairly obvious; it’s the Hunger Games so it’s inevitably going to come down to one person, and I also couldn’t resist shoehorning in a completely unnecessary reference to And Then There Were None since it’s also based off a mystery series. ‘Unstained’ refers to Wiress’ promise in the game to not ‘stain’ herself by committing murder in the games, and if I ever write its sequels they’ll follow the ‘Un’ formula – I’ve always intended the final fic in the prospective trilogy to be called ‘Unchained,’ but we’ll see if I ever get there.

I think the one that actually gave me the most trouble coming up with a title was ‘Goodbye,’ a Pirates of the Caribbean one-shot I wrote way back in 2009. I couldn’t seem to come up with a clever enough title for the fic, until I asked my mom for help and she suggested simply ‘Goodbye.’ I decided that in this case, less was more, and so the title stuck.

C – What character do you identify with most?

The ones that I’ve written for, I guess this means? I suppose I’ll have to go with Myrtle and Wiress. Although they definitely both have more tragic lives than I do, I still put a lot of myself into them – I outright headcanon Wiress as having Asperger’s Syndrome and being uninterested in romance, so I find her quite easy to write in that way, and a lot of her moralistic, somewhat self-righteous attitude at the beginning of Unstained (which she’ll eventually grow out of, fortunately) draws a lot from how I now see myself as having acted as a young teenager. Her somewhat morbid obsession with past Hunger Games and their victims has roots in my own (sometimes borderline depressing) fascination with shipwrecks such as the Titanic and Lusitania. 

Myrtle I headcanon with some sort of unspecified mental illness, or at least deep insecurities and oversensitivity, and having trouble making and keeping friends. Her friendship with Murcia draws on some of the tentative friendships I had with girls in older grades, and – though this didn’t come through in the story for various reasons that would take a whole other ask to explain, and which I’m not entirely satisfied with but anyway – I definitely see Myrtle as having had a complicated crush on her, but never fully recognizing or accepting it for what it was because she wasn’t raised in a time or a society where girls loving other girls was normalized. Which, again, big part of my teenage years. Plus, the social awkwardness, introversion, and anxiety that both girls have is something I definitely relate to in general.

F – Care to share a favourite hurt/comfort fic?

Oh boy, that’s a tall order as there are so many, but the two that jump to mind immediately are Intersection by yadon/Copernicus Jones/Jake-Marshall and Pity the Child by Tanglepelt/Bookworm555. Intersection holds a very special place in my heart as it was written by my friend Leanne, featuring one of her favorite Ace Attorney characters, Jake Marshall, interacting with my OC Denise Swallow. Pity the Child was written by my friend Becca and involves two more of my faves – America and Latvia from Hetalia – having heartwarming interactions. Both are very good fics.

M – Got any premises on the back burner that you’d like to share?

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahaha

Well

It’d be easier to list fics I’ve actually completed than fics that are in various stages of planning

But if you insist

(This is the super LONG part and gets a little emotional towards the end) 

The fic that I’d most like to complete within the foreseeable future is ‘Unstained,’ my story about Wiress’ Hunger Games. I’d say it’s about half-finished now, and I haven’t updated it in almost 4 years. That might change in the future; I’d like to get at least a few more chapters done this summer, but I don’t think it’s humanly possible to get it finished before I leave for Ontario, and then I’ll be so busy for a solid year that I doubt I’ll be able to write anything. And that’s not even counting the two prospective sequels I’d like to write. But even finishing this fic would be a major life accomplishment for me, as it’s one of those that I’m proudest of.

Then I have at least three fics about my Ace Attorney OC, Denise Swallow, which I’d like to write, though they’ll probably all be one-shots. Two of them are partially written, one isn’t even started yet. One of them would be a brief overview of the few times she met Dahlia Hawthorne, the infamous culprit who ended up murdering her brother. Another one, the longest and weightiest of the three, would involve her meeting Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey, who channels the spirit of her brother so that she can properly say good-bye. The last one would involve her meeting up with Dahlia’s sister, Iris, and coming to some sort of closure there.

A lot of my fic-writing is taking a backseat to a much more personal fic-universe-of-sorts that I’m working on, involving practically all of my favorite fandoms thrown together into an incredibly complicated storyline. It’s completely self-indulgent and not something I’d really want to share a lot about here, but one of the major plotlines I’m constructing in it would involve a villain-to-anti-hero redemption arc for Lucy Bauer from Agents of Shield. I’ll admit that I have toyed, very briefly, with the idea of converting this into proper FanFiction if and when I ever complete it, but that’s honestly very unlikely because 1) I’d have to remove it from its crossover context, 2) I’d have to insert it into either AoS season 5 canon, which hasn’t even been filmed yet, or an alternate version of season 5, and 3) it seems completely implausible within the story’s canon. Plus, there’s the inevitable ‘no one would read it’ problem. 

In the past couple months I’ve considered writing an And Then There Were None Hunger Games AU, as well as a brief oneshot about Soldier Island being haunted by the ghosts of the ATTWN victims, but I’m very unlikely to do anything with those. There’s still my Nancy Drew Hunger Games AU left unfinished, but if I get back to that, it’ll be entirely as a way to blow off steam, rather than to try and write anything especially good. Just today I was attacked by the idea of writing a Lord of the Rings fic about Aragorn returning Boromir’s arm braces to Faramir and telling him how his brother died, but again, just a passing fancy that I’m very unlikely to write.

And that’s just the tip of it. There are so many FanFiction ideas I’ve considered writing and abandoned. The 8 fics I have up on FFN are the few lucky ideas that actually came to fruition, even though a good deal of them are unfinished as well. I’m honestly amazed that I was even able to finish ‘Eternity,’ or get as far as I have on ‘Unstained.’ I have an X-Men Evolution fic up that was originally supposed to be a multichap of 10-15 chapters, and it hasn’t been updated since 2011. When I was in high school I planned out a whole series of Pirates of the Caribbean fics chronicling James Norrington’s life, from childhood until his death, but I only ever got the first chapter of one written and never posted it. (Partially because I sort of balked at the HUGE amount of research I’d planned to do on 18th-century naval life for that fic). I’d like to go back to this one idea I had for a Hetalia fic, a series of one-shots about times in which the characters have wished they were humans rather than nations, but again, research would be necessary and it’s so draining.

That’s the problem. I love thinking up ideas and planning stories and having them finished, but at the end of the day, the act of writing itself is such a chore for me. And I hate that. I wish I could write effortlessly, like I used to as a kid, but I haven’t been able to do so since I was 12 or so. Which, coincidentally, is the time my depression started to majorly set in. I don’t know if the two are connected, but I can’t help but wonder if mental illness robbed me of a pastime that I dearly loved, and of countless fics I could have written by now.

(I know this is long and cheesy and overemotional, but cut me some slack, it’s almost 1 am) 

O – How do you begin a story – with the plot, or the characters?

You know, this is strange, because when I first saw this question I thought, of course I start with the plot, who would just say “I want to write a story about [character]” without even having any idea of what the plot would be yet? And then I realized that that’s exactly what I do – start with a character I want to write about and come up with a plot based off that. In fact, most of my stories aren’t even plot-driven much as just general looks into the lives of certain characters.

Y – A character you want to protect

Hah, it seems like the characters I want to protect and the characters I end up putting through torture are exactly the same. The two that jump to mind right away are – my sun and my stars and everything, the one and only APH Latvia, and my precious ghostly daughter, Myrtle Warren (Moaning Myrtle). And yet I endlessly read fics in which the former, and wrote a fic in which the latter, suffers. Whoops.