#why are you trying to find the real people in a witch hunt

[mightymizora]

I have so many feelings about the big Netflix show blowing up that are complex and knotty and nuanced but really the top level is I don’t think society as a whole is empathetic enough for a story like this now.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Home

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You take down Evan and make it back to New Orleans where Elijah awaits

Warning: mention of killing and a tiny smidge of spice

Your phone vibrated in your pocket causing you and Max both to mumble a curse as he spread a shield around you both with his magic, a tactic to make the men looking for the two of you simply look anywhere but the corner the two of you were in.

The Banes twins had figured out Evan had indeed poisoned those on his side against hunters, using witches who wanted a squadron of their own who was capable of taking on things that crawled out of the deepest abyss of hell and every other realm.

The only way to sever the spell would be to kill Evan. The issue with that was it had to be an instantaneous moment of you killing him while the coven Alicia and Max had formed for this stripped his witches of their powers.

That took this hunt from the level of “find the monster and kill it” all of you knew to forming a tactical team of hunters spread across the states. Enchanted coms gave you access to hunters states over trying to pinpoint Evan's exact location. You'd called the kill, everyone understood the importance to you that was being the one to put down this threat.

Once the threat passed Max lowered his shield and grabbed your arm “Come on” the two of you ran for his motorcycle that was parked nearby and nearly dove onto it.

Elijah didn't let his temper out but when another call went unanswered he was considering breaking the phone. “She's been gone for two weeks. She dropped contact three days in. Brother perhaps she moved on” Klaus’ voice hit his ears and he spun to face him “Her Nova is still in storage. Most of her belongings are still in her apartment. Why would she leave all of that behind simply to get away from me?”

The truth was Klaus was trying to provoke his brother by offering a challenge that you simply left because after a few days of your absence he'd seen what it had done to Elijah and Rebekah and tried to locate you himself. No trail of you had been left behind in over a week. Rebekah was distracted by Marcel so his goal was to not let Elijah consider the very real possibility that you may be dead.

“If she comes back near New Orleans we'll know but you can not make her appear in front of you from will alone” he tried to choose his words carefully and could see that they had little effect on Elijah. “I care for her Niklaus. I do not want to consider having lost her this soon after finding her”

You watched Alicia walk across the room time and again, going over the vials of herbs and ingredients that lined the table. Some of those had required some traveling to get your hands on and a few Dean had gotten shipped in on a favor from Ketch.

Your hands moved from muscle memory alone, loading your guns then sharpening your blades. Evan's location had been narrowed down, you had wolves nearby watching that could report back should he move.

This had taken nearly a month. You hadn't spoken to Elijah in so long the truth was you didn't expect him to be waiting on you when you got back to New Orleans. You knew what he'd say had he known what you were doing. He'd ask you to let him handle it. He'd gladly kill Evan and get Klaus to wipe out the witches but you needed to do this yourself.

Max walked in the door and looked from you to his sister “It's time. We've got a half an hour window. It's now or never”

You were exhausted and sore when you practically rolled out of Alicia's car “Sure you don't want me to stick around?” She asked but you shook your head “A witch as powerful as you? Marcel will send people knocking. I'll be ok”

She laughed “Just call if you need anything sweetheart. You should sleep better tonight” you grinned “Oh hell yes”

—----------

You walked into the door of your apartment and dropped the bag of dirty clothes next to the door but took care to push the bag of weapons under the bed where they would be close at hand. You desperately needed to shower.

You thought of Elijah as you walked into the bathroom. You wanted to see him but part of you feared his reaction to how long you'd been gone.

Instead you hit Rebekah's number on your phone as you walked into the bathroom. The moment she answered you heard her breath a sigh of relief “About bloody time! I was afraid you'd fallen off the face of the earth”

You laughed lightly,guilt slipping into your mind “I'm sorry Bek. I just needed to handle this on my own” “I understand the need but a text would've been nice. Elijah has been unbearable” you grimaced slightly “How bad?”

She laughed and the noise wrapped around you. You hadn't realized how bad you'd missed her as well “Let's just say he was ready to set fire state by state until he laid eyes on you again. Klaus had to talk him down” christ if Klaus was being the voice of reason..you closed your eyes “Chances of delaying him knowing I'm back?”

“I can give you maybe half an hour” “You're an angel with fangs Bek” you bid each other goodbye with promise to meet the following day before you laid your phone down on the sink and quickly got into the shower. Evan's blood was still caked on your arms and splashed through your hair. You couldn't face Elijah bloody.

—---------------

You walked out of the bedroom and had just plugged your phone in and sat it on the end table next to your bed when there was a familiar knock at your door. The thought to make him wait flashed through your mind but you pushed it down.

You walked over to the door and looked down at what you were wearing. You'd tossed an oversized shirt and sleep shorts on. He'd seen you in less considering.

You opened the door and he blasted by you into the apartment. “Come on in” you mumbled, the sarcasm in your voice falling flat when you turned to face the vampire standing in the middle of your home. Anger rolled off of him in waves. Instead of his usual suit he was wearing that damn henley again and you wondered if Rebekah had told him to wear that since she knew the effect it had on you.

You shut the door then turned to lean against it with your arms crossed over your chest. You'd done nothing wrong. You owed him no explanation and wasn't about to grovel for his affection. “Rebekah said you've been a bit unhinged?”

He scoffed at your response “Tell me, how would you like me to react? You left and haven't spoken to any of us in a month” “I had business of my own to take care of” you replied and within the blink of an eye he was in front of you, eyes skimming your body “and you didn't trust me with the information of who you were after?”

You uncrossed your arms, placing both palms flat on his chest to give you enough room that his presence wasn't dizzying. He let his hands come to rest on your hips, you didn't protest because in truth you were craving his touch.

“If you respect me Elijah, you'll respect that I had to do this because it was my former fiance that was targeting hunters. I brought the threat to my community, I had to handle it” He nodded slowly “and if you respect me darling the next time you need to go on one of these little missions I simply ask you tell me”

He leaned down enough to be looking into your eyes “I don't like the thought of losing you” you didn't know how to respond. You'd expected a lot out of this but not a confession of not wanting to lose you. You knew how you felt about him but you knew you were human, you'd die probably sooner than later given your life. Were you worth the effort?

You didn't want to give voice to those concerns. You just wanted to feel Elijah. You moved your hands up his chest to hook them around his neck and bring him down into a kiss. The moment your lips touched you let out a light sigh. This was what you'd been missing for weeks. The kiss was hungry and charged, both of you feeling the need to devour the other.

His hands went from your hips to your thighs and he picked you up effortlessly. You gasped at the movement and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. You ground your hips down against his, feeling how his body was already reacting to you.

You were forced to pull away from the kiss in need of air so he moved to your neck, nipping the areas he knew would make you quiver in his touch. “Bed Elijah, please” you moaned and he grinned into your neck “What happened to my smart mouthed little hunter who was ready for a fight moments ago?”

You pulled back and glared at him “You've got five seconds to get me to the bed” before you could get your sentence out completely, your back was on the bed and he was over you “Fast enough?” You shook your head but couldn't hide how your thighs clenched when his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your bare breasts.

“Please quit teasing” you begged and damn him he had the nerve to smile almost boyishly “I've waited a month to touch you, taste you. You're going to get comfortable and let me enjoy this” you wanted to argue, to throw some sarcastic comment back but the way he was looking at you pulled every thought out of your mind. You nodded slowly and his smile turned from boyish to devilish “Good girl”

—-------------

You could remember the first few times you and Elijah were together. He'd been gentle, almost too gentle. You understood his fear of hurting you. He was strong and had so many years of experience and as much as you loved being held and worshiped there were times you wanted it rougher, to feel his fingertips bruising as he drove into you pushing you over that peak of pleasure.

He'd learned what you liked and was intuitive enough to know just what you needed. Tonight he knew you didn't need soft or gentle, you needed to clear your head of anything but him.

—----------------

You gripped his hair tightly as his tongue worked at your clit, fingers curling over that spot deep inside of you that had your back fighting to arch off the bed despite the fact that one of his arms laid across your stomach held you in place. “Elijah..please…fuck”

You'd already come twice and damn him he was determined to make it a third time before he ever even stripped free of his clothes. You could feel that pressure building in you and the moment he barely let his teeth graze your sensitive flesh you came with a cry of his name falling from your lips. You pushed weakly at his head “Too much…too damn much”

He left one final kiss against you then leaned back to smile up at you “Giving up already?” You wished you had the energy to fully retort but you simply waved at his clothes “You're severely overdressed Mikaelson”

He nodded then stood, quickly stripping his clothes before crawling back up your body slowly,nearly at a human pace. When he reached your lips he caught them in a rough kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue “You look absolutely exquisite like this”

You opened your mouth to respond but he chose that moment to slowly push into you, clearly enjoying the way your mouth fell open and your eyes closed against the stretch. “Tell me what you need” he whispered, unmoving as he placed open mouthed kisses along your jaw taking special care to tease every place he knew would have you clenching around him.

After a moment you opened your eyes to find his gaze locked firmly onto you. You gave him a small smile “Show me how much you missed me” He shook his head with a slight smirk “All my years of living and you may very well be my undoing” a sharp roll of his hips ensured you didn't have the ability to reply beyond a deep moan falling from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

You woke up curled up to Elijah's chest. It wasn't the first time the two of you had spent an entire night wrapped up in each other but the sight of waking up to him next to you was something you'd never grow tired of.

He groaned lightly as he stretched around you “How are you feeling?” You placed a kiss on his chest “Delightfully sore and happy to be home” he smiled at you referring to New Orleans as home. “How long do I have you before Rebekah steals you away?”

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand “You've got a couple hours” he leaned down to pull you into a kiss “In that case, I still have a month to make up for” you felt his hands begin to roam lower and moaned into the kiss. You may have to meet Rebekah for dinner instead of lunch.

[bananastarion]

I don't care what someone did, unless they are a real threat to the safety of other people (and even then, there are better ways of handling that), it's not okay to put someone on blast for merely expressing an opinion on their personal blog. Even if you hate their opinion and it hurts you to see it, it's not against the law nor tumblr terms of service to express your opinions on your own blog. Just do what I do- see something you don't wanna see? Block and move on. Live and let live. Spares everybody a lot of unnecessary trouble.

Right now my dash is flooded with this crap and it's bringing down my tumblr experience, I'm literally just here to enjoy a little escapism and that's all. I don't care about petty fandom drama, like, whatsoever. I don't need to be made aware of every little upsetting thing that happens around here. Unlike a lot of tumblr, I can live with everyone not having the exact same opinions as me, even when I find them personally distasteful. We are all human beings here, have some respect and decorum. Don't fall down that slippery slope of toxic fandom culture.

Even if you think you mean well when you start a callout post linking everyone to someone's blog, you have no idea who is seeing it. You have no idea if it could end up escalating to mass harassment, doxxing and internet sleuthing. Even if you don't like them, even if you feel their personal views are a threat to you, nobody deserves that just for expressing their beliefs on their own blog. You are potentially endangering anyone you start a mass harassment campaign on, you understand that right? What if they have kids, or other innocent people who could be affected? Do you really think mass bullying will ever change someone's views, or will it just spread animosity and misunderstanding further? I understand why people feel strongly about things, but witch hunting will only make this community a worse place for everyone. I can't stand the callout culture, I won't take part in it. Just block and move on folks, we have that privilege here, use it.

Also, this is not calling out people expressing their opinions on drama on their own blogs, without naming the person being called out. Y'all are well within your rights to do that on your own blog, just as I am here. It's the people @ ing others and trying to dogpile them that concerns me. Sure, first it'll be the people you disagree with and everything's fine- but what happens when you're next? I've been in fandom for 15 years, I know how bad this can get. Please don't enable this kind of behavior.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Sorry for Kicking Your Ass (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Requested by anonymous for  Can you do a fic where Dean met a magic user he used to hunt, but failed to, years later when he stopped hunting. He felt a crush on him and now he knows those weird feelings he used to thought as aggression was actually attraction now that he’s a bit comfortable with his sexuality?

"Well, well, well. Dean Winchester, in the flesh." You smirk, sliding into the booth across from the man in question.

Dean looks a little strangled - which makes sense, as your magic is already holding him in place, preventing him from moving anything but his eyes and mouth.

"Didn't I tell you what would happen if I caught you back in my town, Winchester?" you snarl.

"To be fair to me, didn't mean to get caught. Kind of a gas and food up stop."

You frown. "You're not hunting?"

He tries to shrug but can't. "Uh... no. Baby's only got the essentials for self-defense."

You tilt your head. "Why?" Hunters don't quit. They die on the job.

"Well, maybe I didn't wanna die. Again. Maybe I just wanted a fucking apple pie life, okay?"

You let the spell down. "What about your asshole dad?"

"Died. Couple of times." Dean shrugs, looking mournfully at the pie slice his sudden freedom of movement sent crashing to the floor.

"Oh. Condolences."

He shrugs.

"What about your little brother? Sammy. Last I saw him, he was in high school?"

"He got a full ride to college. Dropped out to find our dad with me. We hunted for a few years, and then I decided I'd had enough of dying and getting brought back, and we quit. I think Sam reconnected with an old girlfriend up in New York. Working in an art gallery."

"And you?"

"Been, uh... figuring myself out. Making amends. I hurt a lot of people I shouldn't have while hunting. People who weren't really monsters. So... I kinda lied earlier. I am here to see you."

"Me? Uh... I kinda beat your ass last time we met, Winchester."

He nods. "But, uh... before then."

You think back.

You had been home on winter break from college when you saw the fake FBI Agents (John and Dean). To be fair, you had killed a dirty cop that was blackmailing high school girls, but still.

John had figured due to your sloppiness that you were inexperienced and left to go on a hunt a state over.

So that left Dean looking for you.

He met you while walking through town, and didn't know you were the witch. You made quick friends and Dean gave you the vibes.

You invited him home, but when you tried to kiss him, he freaked out.

It didn't quite surprise you, but it still hurt to see him looking at you in disgust and anger.

He had left, and the next week he was in your house again, trying to kill you. Which was kinda the worst reaction you had ever had to an attempted kiss.

"Look, I was a shit back then. I freaked out on you. Normally, seeing what that prick did, I'd have left you alone, but... I thought you had put a spell on me. I didn't understand what I was feeling."

You freeze. "Uh... are you coming out to me, Dean?"

"Yeah, guess I am." He smirks, pulling aside his jacket so you can see the little bi flag pin he has hidden, pinned on the inside, over the heart.

You chuckle a little there.

"I won't say you were my first guy crush. That honor belongs to Robert Plant." Dean jokes. "But definitely the first crush I actually knew in real life that I knew was a crush."

You start to laugh. "So, what now, Dean? You wanna start all the way over?"

Dean shrugs. "If you like. If you want, I'd like to at least redo that kiss you wanted to give me."

You giggle. "Okay. We'll see. Take me out to dinner first, and we'll see how it goes."

"Deal."

[wandering-winchesters]

Premonitions

Pairing: Dean x Reader, implied feelings. Word Count: 2,239 Summary: The reader has always had visions, but now they're changing and causing her physical harm. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death, implied vomiting and pain. Requested: Yes, by anonymous. The reader has visions of future events since her childhood, but since the last hunt and burn of a witch her visions are getting more powerful and begin to affect her health condition. The visions weakening her, she suffers from heavy migraine and also dizzy spells and nausea. She tries to hide it from the Winchesters but as observing as they are, they instantly recognize her pale and sick appearance.  A/N: Requests are open! I hope you enjoy my take on this request, please let me know!

Masterlist

Visions are something I’m very familiar with, I’ve had them since I was a child. They felt like dreams, mostly peaceful and serine. Predicting the things that were to come, always happy occasions. I knew the days to come that I would enjoy, the places we’d visit and joys I’d experience before they ever happened. It was a good thing, I was thankful for it. It brought reassurance in times of doubt, joy in times of sadness and it didn’t really affect my day to day life. Dean would try to use it to their advantage, running lottery ticket numbers by me in hopes of me having a vision of him winning, he hadn’t been successful yet. Sam always rolled his eyes at Dean’s childishness, but would listen intently to whatever I recounted for them. 

Since the last hunt that we been on my visions had changed, they were no longer predicting joyful occurrences, they were dark. Foreshadowing death and torture, often continuing on for twenty or thirty minutes. The amount of time a drastic change to the maybe five minute long visions that I was used to having. They caused me to get sick almost every time, a wave of nausea taking over the second the vision ended. My body felt weak, muscles ached and I had a headache that had taken up permanent residence since these new visions had started. I was doing my best to keep it from the boys, not wanting them to worry about me anymore than they already did. They already watched me closely, concerned that I would get hurt while on a hunt. If they knew about this, well, I don’t know what they would do. Probably bench me, if we are being honest. I had managed to keep it to myself, thankful that most of the visions seemed to appear at night, to the point where I could almost call them nightmares. Yet I knew better, I know that they’re predictions, some of the things I have already confirmed to be true. A train derailing in Michigan, a bus crash in Ohio, the list goes on. Every time I have one, I search the news headlines, praying that I won’t find what I am looking for. However, it’s always there, a day or two after it happens. 

For the life of me, I cannot figure out why my visions had changed, the only plausible explanation was the witch that had escaped on our last hunt. Despite our every effort, she had fled moments before we would have killed her. My guess is a spell, what spell you might ask? No clue. All of the research I had been doing, has been turning up empty. No explanation for the full body symptoms I had been having in response to the visions. 

Which is how I wound up here, hugging the toilet in the bathroom connected to my room. My head is spinning and throbbing, the pit in my stomach nauseating and unbearable. My body was aching from the constant shivers running through my body. There was nothing I could do but sit and wait, and hope that it faded overtime. This was by far the worst one, it had pulled me in and completely overcome my every thought and action. Flashes of red and orange flames, the screams of innocent people trapped within the building, being burned alive or smothered by smoke. All of it so real and vivid, forcing tears to fall from my eyes as I laid there paralyzed, unable to snap out of it, until it was over. Just as abruptly as it had begun, it was gone. I was back in my room at the bunker, sick from fear. I had painstakingly made my way to the bathroom, my eyes closed and my feet shuffling. Avoiding any sudden movements due to fear of passing out or throwing up. Judging by the time on my phone, it had lasted nearly an hour, fifty-three minutes to be exact, the longest vision I had ever had. I remain on the floor of the bathroom for almost an additional hour, taking slow, even breaths, waiting out the nausea. Which eventually faded, I had hoped that the migraine would fade too, however no luck. I opened my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the harsh light in the bathroom, a light that I didn’t recall turning on. I stand slowly and turn to head towards my bed, hopeful that the rest of my sleep would be uninterrupted and dreamless. 

I am awoken by a knock on my door, followed by a voice calling out my name. I ignore it, hoping they’ll go away. I am tired, so tired. The thought of getting out of bed felt like the most insurmountable task, I was already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth of my blankets. 

“Y/N, it’s almost noon, are you okay?” Sam enters the room, his voice much louder than I would prefer. I would rather he not be here at all and to just leave me to my sleep. 

“‘M fine, Sam. Go away, tired.” I mumble, throwing my arm back behind me and motioning for him to leave, not bothering to open my eyes. I hear light shuffling and I assume that he is leaving, but I am proven wrong when I feel the bed next to me dip down. Sam has not left, but come to sit beside me. I open one eye to glance at him, but close it again quickly, the lights flooding my senses with searing pain. His hand comes to rest on my shoulder and when I still don’t stir to look at him again, he speaks.

“What’s going on with you? You might think you’re doing a good job at hiding whatever it is, but you’re really not. Dean and I both know that something is going on that you’re not telling us about and its getting concerning. You’ve been sleeping a lot, in constant pain when you’re awake and you’re pale as a ghost, Y/N.” I know he isn’t going to leave me be without an answer of some sort. So I do my best to come up with one, something that sounds believable but not too concerning. 

“Just haven’t been feeling the best, must be food poisoning or something.” I whisper, again willing that he will leave me alone to sleep. My body physically exhausted, head throbbing, pain pulsating through my every nerve. He shifts again and I rejoice, hoping he’s headed for the door. But instead, his hand comes to rest on my forehead, a hiss leaving his lips as he makes contact. 

“Shit, Y/N, you’re burning up.” He says, tugging back the blankets that I have pulled up around my face, revealing my sweat soaked t-shirt. “How bad?” I hear Dean mutter from the doorway, the sound of his foot steps indicating that he has crossed the room to stand next to my bed as well. I hesitantly open my eyes, squinting to try and lower the amount of light that is allowed to enter. 

“Feel for yourself, Dean.” Sam says, standing up and letting Dean take his place on the bed next to me. Dean rests his hand against my forehead, grimacing. It must be bad judging by the look on both of their faces. I push myself up into a sitting position, tugging the blankets up to cover my bear legs. Painfully aware of how little clothing I have on compared to them, not that they hadn’t seen me dressed like this before, it just made me feel weak in this moment. 

“I’m fine, just need a shower.” I mumble, I throw my legs over the edge of my bed and begin the short walk to my bathroom, ignoring both of Sam and Dean’s protests and offers of help. I barely make it three feet before my world is spinning, darkening at the edges and crumbling around me. 

My body collapses, colliding with the hard wood of the floor and I can faintly hear my name being yelled, but it is all drowned out by the vision dancing before my eyes. This time it is different, it’s not strangers in a different state, it’s Bobby, Ellen and Jo. They’re surrounded by vampires and it doesn’t look good. All of them injured in some way, Bobby worse than the girls. They stand in a circle, their backs together and weapons raised in front of them. I know what is about to happen and I try to scream, try to warn them in some way, to move faster to run! But nothing comes out, my voice but a silent whisper in my throat. I am forced to watch as the vampires kill them, their bodies falling to the ground and, and then it is gone. 

My eyes fly open a scream bubbling out of my throat, terror filling my every nerve ending. Dean’s above me, his voice shushing me, telling me that I am safe, nothing happened and that everything is okay, but nothing is okay. Bobby, Ellen and Jo, They’re all in danger. 

“Sam, call Bobby right now, tell him not to go on that vampire hunt.” Sam hesitates, his eyes trained on me and filled with questions. But there’s no time. “Now, please! I had a vision!” I snap, putting all of the emotion I can into those words, trying to convey just how urgent they really are. Sam nods, still silent, but pulls out his phone and leaves the room to call Bobby. I take a couple of breaths, trying to focus on my surroundings once again. I am on the floor, Dean cradling me in his arms, his eyes trained on my face concern and confusion written through every inch of his skin. 

“How did you know about that hunt, Y/N? Bobby just told us about it five minutes before we came in to wake you.” He says, his hand brushing a strand of hair out of my face, his touch comforting me slightly. 

“I-I, promise not to be angry with me?” I ask, letting out a rather large sigh. He hesitates, but nods in agreement and I begin to explain. “You know about the visions that I have, they’re normally happy predictions. But ever since the last hunt, with that damn witch that got away, my visions have changed. All of them are now predicting death and tragedy. I’ve had one everyday this last week, all of them have come true. I’ve seen it on the news or in an article online. Before today, they were all strangers, but now, today, it was Bobby, Ellen and Jo. I couldn’t bear to let anything happen to them Dean, God what if I wasn’t in time?” I ask, tears beginning to form in my eyes. He hushes me, reassuring me through his touch, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. Sam comes back into the room, his phone still clutched in his hand. His face slightly pale and concern etched throughout his features. 

“I got through to Bobby, he’s okay. So are Ellen and Jo. They were about to leave when I called, but they stopped when I told them you had a vision. Bobby wants to talk to you about it all when you are feeling up to it, Y/N.” He says, I nod in response, relief washing over me, they’re okay. They’re not going, which means they won’t die. 

Dean takes a minute to repeat what I had told him to Sam, the tension in the room growing every second. Sam is angry, Dean is angry and I am tired, oh so tired. These premonitions have really started to take it out of me physically and mentally. I listen to the boys discuss the steps that need to be taken, the witch has to burn. Sam volunteers to go and Dean agrees to stay behind with me. 

“You should both go, I’ll be fine here on my own.” I argue, trying to offer them a reassuring smile, but neither of them buy it. Sam shakes his head, his mouth parting to answer but Dean beats him to it. 

“In your dreams sweetheart, there’s no way in hell that we’re leaving you here alone. You fainted, you could’ve smacked your head if I hadn’t caught you as you fell. One of us is going to stay with you until this witch is dead. Don’t even bother arguing, you’re not going to win.” He adds on the last part as he notices my enthusiasm towards disagreeing with him. I close my mouth, exhaustion sweeping back over me. Dean notices and carefully carries me back to my bed, again ignoring my protests. He sets me gently on the mattress and I eagerly roll onto my side, resting my aching head onto the cool, soft surface of my pillow. He tugs the blanket over my body, pressing another kiss to my forehead. He makes up some excuse about it being the best way to check my temperature, but I don’t mind. He plants himself in the chair by my bed, pulling out his laptop. His presence enough comfort and safety to lull me into a peaceful sleep. They’ve got me. Sam is going to go take care of the witch and I will be okay. Those were my last thoughts before I was pulled into the blanket of sleep. 

[patdkoala]

Get it Out of Your System

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of death, pet names (baby) Summary: You and Dean go after a lead down in Louisiana but things get pretty steamy

Dean and you are close but not close enough to be called besties. Just enough to be hunting buddies. You hunt with Sam and Dean all the time. Every so often, you'll bud out so that Cas can join in.

Today, it's just you and Dean.

"There are people dying in pairs down in Louisiana. Neighbors spoke of hearing screaming and, uh-" Dean stopped talking and cleared his throat as he looked up at you.

"And what?" "Moans before it finally stopped."

"Are we sure these people died and didn't just climax too hard?" You asked as Dean laughed and then showed you the news article online. "Well, that's what a lot of these neighbors assumed too until they noticed that they hadn't come outside in weeks. Turns out they died and were sitting in their homes rotting for weeks," Dean said as you gagged a little.

"So what, these people are dying by murder on their one lucky night?" You asked as Dean smirked. "I don't think it's that simple but it does look like something to check out. I'll get baby ready."

"Okay, I'll pack up."

You both headed to Louisiana and first checked out the neighbors of the first victims.

"So, how do you two know Tony and JJ?" Mrs. Fizzbit asked as Dean and you looked at each other and realized you still weren't set in stone on your fake story.

"We met in couple's therapy," You said as Mr. Fizzbit eyed you suspiciously. "We didn't know Tony and JJ were in couple's therapy but I guess that explains, uh- what happened that night before they passed," He said as you smiled at Dean in an uncomfortableness.

"Yeah, well. Everyone has their secrets," Dean said as you smiled at him in a comfortable state now.

You and Dean learned that every couple who died had visited the same woman that gave them some sex tips to brighten their marriage.

So of course, you and Dean went to visit her.

Again, with no real background story.

"Why hello. What a gorgeous young couple," The woman said as Dean and you laughed that off. "Oh, no we aren't-" Dean started but you cut him off.

"Sexually active anymore. My husband hasn't touched me for months," you said as Dean side-eyed you. "I haven't?" He questioned as she looked at him. "Right. I haven't. We just don't have that, uh- zing anymore," He said as you were now the one side-eyeing him.

"Well, I have just the thing for you two," She said as she handed you a bag that looked like just a bedazzled version of a witch's hex bag but you didn't think much of it.

"Go home, brew some tea. And talk through your issues while this bag steeps in the tea," She instructed as Dean and you listened intently.

You went back to the motel and did as instructed with the bag.

"So, maybe our bad guy is a djin traveling through people's minds and killing them for being celibate?" Dean chuckled as you poured him a cup of the sex tea.

"What we are going to do is drink this tea and find out if either this woman is our witch or if she is just drugging people and then breaking in and murdering them," You said as Dean pushed his cup away.

"Shouldn't one of us be 'sober' then if we are seriously going to drink this crap?" He asked as you rolled your eyes. "You just don't want to drink this," You said as he smiled sheepishly at you.

"Fine. I'll drink it and you either have to kill me or kill whatever is going to try and kill me," You said as you chugged the drink.

"And? How do you feel?" He asked as you shrugged. "I don't know. Pretty much the same, honestly," you said as Dean stood up and just the right amount of his underwear was visible when he stood and his shirt lifted.

You stared and watched him rub his face. His arm flexed and it was so sexy. You felt something in between your legs get damp. You knew what was happening. You looked up at Dean in a feat of sweat and hormonal fear.

"Dean, the woman. She's a witch and she drugged me. We have to go back and find her. Get her to give me the remedy."

He nodded and then you both ran to the car and headed back to the sex shop.

"What did you do?" Dean yelled as he bust the door down and behind him walked a very horny and very drugged (Y/N).

You couldn't keep your eyes off Dean.

"I thought this is what you two wanted, to spice up the new marriage," She asked as Dean revealed his gun.

"Yeah, well. I lied. I tend to do that," He said as he aimed the gun at her head.

"Now, fix her, or I put a bullet between your eyes."

"Wait!" She yelped as you just stood behind Dean watching him in amazement. He was so handsome standing up for you like this.

"Is she the only one that drank the tea?" She asked with her hands raised above her head. "Yeah, so?" "She will die if she doesn't uh- get it out of her system. I promise I will leave you two be after," the woman said to Dean as he smiled his smug smile at her.

"Don't worry, I believe you," He said as he then fired the gun and she fell to the ground.

Obviously, her death did nothing to you because all you could muster up to say to Dean after witnessing him murder a woman in cold blood was, "That was so fucking hot."

"Okay, so maybe she was right and the only thing to do is uhm- get it-" "Out of my system. Yeah, I heard her say that too."

You and Dean went back to the motel. The entire car ride was silent. "Let's hit up a bar. I need to find me a man so that I don't die tonight," You said as Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel. "No, what if you just end up dead anyway on some random guy?" He said as you turned to look at him.

"Is that the only reason, Dean Winchester doesn't want me to go home with some rando?" You asked as he just looked at you like you were crazy. Which of course, right now you were.

"No, I just think you'd be safer with me right now," He said as you smiled at the thought of Dean caring about you while you are in a life-or-death situation.

You and Dean walked into the motel and you sat on your bed and Dean sat on his. Not even facing each other. Sitting on opposite sides of the beds.

"So, what do we do then? Just wait for me to die?" You asked as Dean sighed.

"Get on your knees," He said as your breath hitched in your chest.

"Oh, yeah. Praying sounds like a great idea right now. But I don't know what Chuck is going to do about this given fact that he hates me and you," You rambled as you got down on the floor and got on your knees.

You heard Dean get off of the bed and walk over to you. He stood in front of you and lifted your head to look up at him. He then got on the floor on his knees in front of you.

He pulled you into a kiss and his hands held you at the base of your back and cupped your ass. He held your body so close to his as you two made out on the floor.

He then stood up and he then took off his clothes which made you then take off all of your clothes.

You couldn't stop staring at his toned chest and his arms and how they made the bulge in his pants look small.

He watched as you took off all of your clothes and then you sat on the bed and pulled him closer to you by the hem of his underwear. He smirked at how fast your hands traveled down to his underwear.

"I need you," You said as he leaned down to kiss you and hovered over you.

"I know, baby," He said as you moaned into his touch.

He pulled your panties off for you since you had seemed to forget that part of the whole having sex bit. He then slid a finger inside of you and with such little force you were practically melting under him.

You tugged on his boxers as he was still hovering over you while he left hickeys all over your neck and chest.

He then pushed himself in you as you held onto his back and left scratches and bruises all over him. He left a giant hickey on your left tit as you left one on his neck only a few seconds later.

You were both moaning and screaming under and over each other. He soon let you know he was close and you had already cum three times. At this point, you knew you weren't going to die since you had 'gotten it out of your system' through and through.

After he came, in you might I add because Dean Winchester doesn't care, he held you to his chest and you fell asleep.

Dean couldn't sleep. Not till you were both back in Kansas just because he was still worried about your passing.

[deanscherrypie420]

+* Little Witch *+

A/N: This is just a little drabble I thought of <3 Hope you like it!

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader Y/N, Dean Winchester

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Witch!Reader

Warnings: MATURE AUDIENCE. Witch craft, violence, threats, wrestling, taunting, supernatural hunting, minor violence, misunderstandings, implied smut, . (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: In the middle of practicing spells the Winchester boys interrupt, causing you to mess up the spell and cause damage. Both of the brothers were irritated but the younger one was fuming. After a bit of a scuffle, you both find out how much you really like each other.

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She was in the middle of a chant, reading it from her spell book carefully. The room was decorated intricately, dead flowers hanging upside down on the walls, multiple desks that were covered in books and old papers. There were two tall bookshelves that were filled to the brim with old literature. There were dozens of tapestries on the walls, the dark paint beneath chipping at the corners.

Once she was close to finishing her spell, the door behind her burst open, making her crash forward. She used the table in front of her to catch her fall, sending all the items on it flying to the floor. She gasped as a hand threw her to the ground.

She groaned as her head hit the wall. The shorter man got up and went to grab her, but she was quicker. "Hos et arma in terram depelle!" She ordered, and the men fell to the floor. Their weapons scattered to her feet as they hit the opposite wall. She quickly got up, stumbling to her feet.

The brothers were bickering to each other and she couldn't exactly make out what they were saying, her head still fuzzy. She mumbled something under her breath and the older man shouted at her, "The hell are you whisperin' about?" She rubbed her temples, and with a flick of her wrist both of the men were flat against the ground, groaning in pain.

"Who are you two?" She questioned, walking cautiously around the men. She squatted down next to the taller one, running her hand down his scalp. He swallowed hard, "Sam. My names Sam, he's my brother, Dean."

The woman nodded, a small smile appearing. "I'm Y/N. Why are you here, Sam?" She asked, and Sam looked into her eyes, pausing for a moment. "Dean, it's not her." He announced and Dean managed to turn his head towards his brother. "The hell you mean it's not her? She's clearly a witch!" Dean hollered back, and Sam shook his head.

Sam exhaled and glanced back up at her, "How many people have you mudered?" He deadpanned and her face contorted in a confused manor. "Excuse me?" One of her brows were raised and her lips were parted, her eyes scrunched up a bit. "I... I've never killed anyone. Why do you ask?"

After a few moments of conversation, she hesitantly let Sam out of her spell. Dean whined on the floor, asking for her to let him go as well. She looked up at Sam and he nodded, "He's fine. He won't do anything." She nodded as well and released him. He bounced up quickly and went to grab his gun.

"No!" She shouted as she threw him to the wall. "Okay, okay, chill out lady. I was just trying to get my belongings back." He croaked out. She frowned at him, but Sam rested his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I promise, he won't hurt you." The giant spoke gently, and reluctantly, she released Dean once more.

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

After a lot of explaining, threatening, yelling and spell casting, they finally found the real witch who was murdering people. Y/N had helped on the case, using her power to reverse and prevent the witch's spells.

After the hunt, Sam had offered for her to come to the bunker with them. She agreed and he was now giving her a mini tour.

"And this is my bedroom. I do all the uh.. Normal hunter things in here." He said with a lopsided smile. She looked up at him, her Y/E/C eyes sparkling in the bunker light. "Like reading?" She questioned and he let out a laugh, "Yeah, like reading."

She stepped into his room and studied it. After a moment she motioned towards the bed with her hand and glanced up at him, "Will I be staying in here with you?" Sam cleared his throat and thought for a moment, his smile growing. "If you want to, sure." She nodded and then walked out of the room without another word.

She returned moments later. She had retrieved her bag out of the Impala. When she returned, Sam was cleaning up his room, adjusting things to make them look nicer and more organized. Unbothered by him, she set her bag down by the bed and grabbed her blanket out of it, tossing it onto the bed. She then grabbed the few books she was able to bring and set them down on the floor.

"Where can I put these?" She asked Sam, and he gave a gentle smile. "I figured I should've shown you the library. Come on," He said as he waved for her to follow. She complied, carrying her books with her.

When they entered the library her jaw dropped, and her books almost did, too. Sam laughed and put his arm around her, walking her over to one of the lesser filled shelves. "This will work." He said as she grabbed her books and set them down.

She smiled and then quickly went exploring. She walked through shelves and plucked out the books she wanted to read. She was a good reader, a quick one too. She loved it, it was one of her favorite hobbies - besides y'know, witchcraft.

After walking around for a few minutes, she was carrying a decent sized stack of books in her arms. She looked up and saw a book that interested her, The Oracle Book of Spells and Magic, so she reached up to try and grab it. She stumbled and had to clutch her books so they wouldn't drop. She huffed and tried again, standing up on her toes to try and reach it better. She gasped when she felt a strong body behind her, his arm reaching up to grab the book.

She turned and faced him, her cheeks flushed. He handed her the book, leaning in close. She was caged into the bookshelf and it made her stomach flip. She cleared her throat and held eye contact with him, "You are really attractive and I-I think you look very pleasant right now." She said quickly, clearly a bit flustered.

He laughed and used his index finger to tilt her chin up, and he swears he felt her face warm. "Yeah? You think so?" He cooed and she moved her face away. "I was complimenting you.. You should have said thank you.." He chuckled and leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, "Thank you, Y/N. That's really sweet."

She bit her lip and looked down, trying to steady her trembling legs. "D-do I look pretty..?" She asked hesitantly and he tilted her chin back up, "Yes." is all he said. She gently pushed him back and kneeled down, setting her books down on the ground. Sam quickly grabbed her jaw and forced her to look up. His touch was firm but gentle at the same time, making her melt. "I think you're very beautiful."

She got up, using his thighs as leverage. His hand slid down her jaw and to her throat as he stood, a tent forming beneath his jeans. Once she was back on her feet, he leaned down and planted numerous kisses up and down her jawbone.

She whimpered, "Sammy-" But Sam quickly crashed his lips against hers, interrupting. Her hands grasped on to his shoulders, clawing eagerly at his shirt. He smiled into the kiss, his hands traveling down her body. One arm hooked around her waist and the other beneath her ass, scooping her up in one quick motion.

She broke the kiss in a giggling fit, and he laughed against the flesh of her neck, kissing and nipping at it. She tilted her head back and moaned quietly, her legs squeezing around his torso. "God, you're so perfect." He murmured through kisses. She moaned at the praise, a grin blooming across Sam's face.

"The things I'm gonna do to you.." He breathed as he sucked on her pulse, making her squirm. She cupped his face, pulling him away from her bruised neck. Leaning down, she kissed him. Their tongues intertwined immediately and he groaned into her mouth.

It was just the beginning, but she already knew it was going to be a long night.

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A/N : I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you want a Dean version of this story. It was super fun to write, and I hope you like it!

Feel free to send recommendations!

Reblog, like, and comment <3

xoxo

[marthalovesu]

Just to survive the whole situation, me and my gf accidentally made an AU with kierthurs (yet another one, yess...)

It's kind of two AUs inside of one? Uh. Okay, here-

The concept is...it's like modern and fantasy setting. There's a lil' bit of magic and people that posses it. For example, remember that witch house from the game? With a potion brewing outside? Arthur drank it, of course, because my gf's Arthur eats everything that he considers edible. So. That's how he turned into a cat. Kieran found him while he was taking Branwen out for a walk. Arthur was fighting a badger (and was winning!!), but Kieran shoo'ed the creature away and decided to take the kicking and scratching cat home.

Same goes to the other....root? of AU. Here we have Colm that might be practicing dark arts. And we all know how he treats his people. So being turned into a cat was just another punishment for Kieran. In both AUs the boys can break the spell only by meeting a human, that will grow to truly love them. Not in a freaky way, okay?? The kind of love, when you see your cat as an equal to you and a part of your family kind of way. Kieran-cat knows that, Arthur-cat does not. And love should be mutual.

That's why Arthur acts real nasty. Trying to escape in the first couple of days, laying on Kieran's black clothes, scratching and hissind, all that kind of stuff. But Kieran loves him anyway, and eventually Arthur grows to love this patient fella too. Untill one morning Kieran wakes up, pinned to the bed with the weight of some blond stranger sleeping on him.

Kieran-cat was trying to find someone, but he looked like, well, hell. A pathetic-looking thin and sick cat. He couldn't even hunt properly. His prey kicked his ass or he simply felt terrible for listening to the screams of it. So he decided fishing is better. Arthur took him home after seeing this feller under the rain askind shyly for a piece of his food. Arthur then nursed him and helped get healthy again. Even so, he did made some rules for a cat, like, keeping his distance and not sleeping in his bed. But of course those rules was ignored by both of them eventually. Arthur grown with warm feelings for such a smart, polite and loving cat. Even though he looked a lot like a shrimp or something. So Kieran turned back into a human too!

[thebisexualdogdad]

R becoming very overwhelmed when they find out their family is secretly a long line of vampire/supernatural hunters around the same time they start openly dating Hope

Hope Mikaelson x GN!reader

Growing up your parents always told you to stay away from the kids who went to Salvatore prep, you had no idea why but you listened to them up until when you met Hope.

You had bumped into each other at the coffee shop in town and instantly fell for her but as soon as you found out she was a Salvatore student you thought it was better to keep it quiet until things got more serious. 

After a few months together you thought it was time to finally tell your parents about your relationship and invited her over to your house for dinner. 

Your parents were fully ready to spend the dinner telling embarrassing stories of your childhood as parents do but they recognized Hope the moment she stepped into your home. 

Hope had a weird feeling that she had somehow met your parents before but brushed it off as she had just seen them around town. 

Dinner was quiet, oddly quiet.

"Dinner is really good mom," you say, trying to break the silence. 

"Yeah Mrs. Y/L/N, everything is great," Hope smiles. 

"Thank you Hope," your mom nods.

"So Hope, do you go to Mystic Falls high?" Your dad asks, already knowing the answer but not wanting it to be too obvious. 

"No, I actually go to Salvatore prep," Hope replies. 

"What is it like there?" He questions. 

"It's very… eccentric," she chuckles, "a lot of interesting people." 

"Do your parents live in the area?" Your mom adds. 

"Actually my parents died when I was a kid," Hope responds.

"Sorry to hear that," your mom says with faux sympathy. 

Dinner continues on with the awkward small talk and you are so grateful when Hope says that's it late and she should be getting back to school.

You walk Hope to her car and kiss her goodbye, returning inside to your parents who are washing dishes in the kitchen. 

"So what did you think of Hope?" You ask them nervously.

"How could you date someone from that school… and Hope Mikaelson of all people," your mom says, putting down the dish she was washing. 

"What do you guys have against Salvatore Prep? And do you know Hope or something?" You ask confused. 

Your parents look at each other and without needing to say a word nod in agreement.

"Y/N, it's time you know the truth about our family," your father states.

They sit you down in the living room, serious looks on their faces. 

"Okay you’re really starting to worry me," you say, no possible idea what they could want to tell you. 

"This town has a lot of secrets and Salvatore prep is the home to a lot of them," your mom states. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"We weren't going to bring you into this until you were 18 but Y/N…Monsters are real, all the stories and legends you heard as a kid it's all real," your dad tells you, "those kids aren't like you, every single of them is supernatural and a lot of them have hurt people." 

"Very funny," you laugh. 

"This isn't a joke honey, the last few decades Mystic Falls has been a hot spot for supernatural creatures thanks to the Salvatore Brothers and the Mikaelson family," your mom explains, "that's why we moved here when you were five." 

"So you're trying to tell me that Hope is what? A vampire? A werewolf" You say in disbelief.

"She's both actually as well as a witch, she's called a tribred and probably the most dangerous of them all." 

"And how exactly would you guys even know about any of this?" You question, "and if you do know about this why would you move us here in the first place?" 

"Because our family has been hunting monsters for centuries and protecting the innocent from them," your father explains, "when we heard about the Salvatore school opening up for kids like them we came here to keep Mystic Falls safe." 

"This is insane, Hope isn't a monster," you say getting up from the couch, "she would never hurt anyone." 

"Y/N wait," your father attempts but your mother puts her hand on his arm.

"Let them go, it's a lot to take in, they just need some time," she tells him. 

You don't talk to Hope for days, too busy pulling all nighters researching the supernatural world and trying to figure out how true what your parents told you really was. 

Eventually Hope gets concerned at the radio silence and goes to Mystic Falls high looking for you. 

"Y/N hey," she says approaching you at your car after school.

"Hope what are you doing here?" You say nervously. 

"I haven't heard from you since I went to your house for dinner? Did I do something wrong?" She asks, "did your parents not like me?"

"I'm sorry I can't talk right now," you say attempting to get in your car. 

"Whatever's going on you can tell me," Hope says, stepping closer to you and going to touch your arm but you pull away. 

You look around, making sure no one was close enough to hear you, "... are you a tribred?" 

"How do you know what that is?" She says in shock. 

"You are, aren't you, god my parents were telling the truth."

"Your parents? How do your parents know about me?"

"Because apparently their fucking monster hunters and expect me to be one too," you say through gritted teeth. 

Hope is trying to process this news but now there's way too many other students around. 

"Can we please go somewhere and talk," she asks and you agree. 

You drive in silence to a secluded spot outside the woods, normally when you and Hope came here to be alone it was for a very different reason. 

Hope tells you everything, the story of her parents, how all her friends that you had met weren't totally human and even about the few encounters she had over the years with hunters that you both assume were actually your parents. 

"So you're telling me there's a magical pit in Georgia that is a portal to a hell dimension that's basically a jail cell to an evil golem named Malivore that wants to murder you so he can take over the world," you say trying to wrap your mind around it all.  

"To sum it up, yes," she nods. 

"What the actual fuck," you shout slamming your hands on the steering wheel. 

"I'm so sorry, I never should have started seeing you, the last thing I wanted is you to be involved in this," Hope apologizes. 

"Hope this isn't your fault, I would have gotten involved eventually. My parents said they weren't planning on telling me until I turned 18 it's just all so overwhelming," you sigh, "I dont believe that you and your friends are bad people and I really don't want to hunt anyone, especially not you I fucking love you." 

"You love me?" She says low and you realize what you just said. 

"Yeah… I do." 

"I love you too," she smiles. 

You lean in to kiss her and she puts her hand on your cheek, gently rubbing her thumb across your skin. 

"What are we going to do?" You ask, your hand on her waist pulling her as close as you could over the center console. 

"I don't know but we have each other and that's all that matters." 

[relaxxattack]

how come twitter hates knifetrick? i havent read it nor have i ever been involved in any mcyt or adjacent stuff btw

oh man. ok let me explain the story. it was around exactly a year ago the main bit of this shit happened actually

in 2020 minecraft roleplaying (mcrp) becomes super mainstream with the rise of dream smp. in these series, stories are scripted and then acted out live with some improv stuff

in the fandoms there is a LOT of drama over whether it's okay to ship the roleplay characters. there's lots of stances on this. in the beginning, most people say it's not okay to ever ship rp characters, because the youtubers usually just use their own persona as a base for an oc, so it's basically the same thing as shipping the youtubers together. shipping irl people is weird and gross, so nobody wants to do that.

in 2021 a couple of ships start getting confirmed as canon in the rp. characters date or get together or canonically have romantic scenes. this makes the fandom hurt itself in its confusion, because it doesnt understand if it's allowed to ship those characters together.

two guys have their characters literally get married and have a child. the fandom LOVED these characters, they were well written and cute and had a great dynamic. the fandom wanted to ship them and support their marriage so bad. BUT. they were played by real people. those real people (tubbo and ranboolive) were also minors at the time, who nobody wants to risk being weird about obviously.

the mainstream fandom decides that to solve this problem, they will pretend that the marriage is platonic, and ostracize and witch hunt anyone who claims it's not. they draw tons and tons of ship fanart of the two characters, all helpfully tagged as "platonic", sometimes tagging every single use of the word "husband" as platonic.

EVENTUALLY, people start realizing, hey wait, this is roleplay. it's fictional. the streamers are not actually traumatized war veterans who invented nukes, have amnesia, raised a child, are half hybrid alien etc etc etc.

in fact... it's actually really weird to try and make their roleplay relationship the same as their real life one. in the roleplay, they are married and have a kid and act lovey-dovey... why would you claim that's their real relationship? why would you conflate the two? can't we just understand that it's fictional?

most of the tumblr fandom, eventually, realizes that fictional characters and real human actors are not actually the same person. (it helps that the actors themselves state the same thing.)

the twitter fandom however... does not eventually realize this. they stay in their "platonic husband" hell, simultaneously being really weird about shipping and outwardly hating all shippers.

fastforward a bit, there's another mc roleplay series. it's a spinoff series of that first one we were talking about, and it's an athology series-- a whole bunch of oneshots with new characters each time. keep in mind, these characters are NOT EVEN RELATED TO THE STREAMER'S PERSONAS... they make up new ones each time!!

anyway they do one of the oneshots in a cool futuristic city and i was like "man it would be cool to write about this." one of the characters (ran) acts very weird and suspicious for the 5 lines he has total, which leads to a lot of silly theories about what he might be up to in this future city. i think, "man it would be fun to write about him." a different character (jackie) remarks on that character as well; jackie is also one of the only characters to live to the end of the oneshot.

ages after this oneshot was actually aired i thought to myself, what the hell, i'll write a story about ran and jackie. they have literally no existing personality and the futuristic city is not even remotely expanded on- i get to do all that myself!

so i write a comedy mystery action romance novel about an alien assassin (ran) assigned to kill the general of the city's army (jackie) while they try to find some kidnapped kids. keep in mind, i had basically nothing to work with for these characters-- they were side characters for a single episode from a spin-off series, they had around ten lines total. i got to make up basically everything about who they were and where they came from and what they would do myself. the story is also chock full of OCs, and all of the mechanics for the city itself were original and invented by me-- it was a huge labor of love and invention and original work.

the romance wasn't intended to be a whole thing, but honestly it felt very natural (and all the story's fans definitely wanted it), so it eventually happened.

surprising no one, the same twitter fans who believe that fictional characters are somehow LITERALLY the same as their actors started trying to tell me i was shipping real life people. (what? gross?). they told me i was being a bad fan by going against the wishes of irl people who didn't want to be shipped. they accused me of so much, of just trying to "hide" that i really shipped irl people, tons of things. but my story was not about irl people. the characters literally have different fucking names, appearances, personalities, dynamics... EVERYTHING.

twitter users eventually started a "cancellation" of me. i don't even use twitter. but anyway they dug up a bunch of weird innocuous comments or fanarts i had done before, and then pointed to knifetrick, and said i was secretly a gross person, that i was a guy who shipped gaming youtubers, etc. there was a thread about it, idk.

eventually the harassment in my inbox caused me to take a break from tumblr for several weeks. i actually wasn't sure if i would come back. HUNDREDS of people were talking about how terrible i was; people on twitter literally have me and my works in their goddamn dnis. it was such a surreal experience and it caused me so much anxiety.

eventually, several of my friends convinced me to finish the story, because really there was nothing all that wrong with it in the first place. i came back to tumblr.

i added the banner that is currently in my pinned to discourage gross shippers, or people who think *i* am a gross shipper, from coming near me anymore.

as far as i'm concerned, ran and jackie are my OCs. they were from a oneshot-- a oneshot that has not been MENTIONED by its creators for years now-- who i gave an entire story to. i don't want to associate with that fandom anymore, so i don't want the characters i worked so hard on associated either.

they still talk about me on twitter sometimes, kind of as an urban legend of drama. "holy shit you guys remember the knifetrick stuff? that was so gross, how did we let any of that happen. people kept defending it too 🤢". it doesn't bother me as much anymore, because i'm surrounded by people with the critical thinking skills to tell the difference between tom hanks and woody, but it's still sometimes surreal and hurtful.

don't take this as just me complaining though- making knifetrick was incredibly fun, and i still adore all the fans and memes and fanart to this day. you all were incredible and pretty much make those awful episodes worth it <3

in case you're wondering, the steamiest thing those characters did, that people were so upset about?

they shared a chaste peck of the lips for .2 seconds before one of them tried to kill the other.

[player-1]

Oh…That’s a wonderful piece of lore but now that’s going to be a doozy to fit into the main story (mostly figuring out how long each Abyssal were alive before they were killed by the Guild or Lateria). Also ignore the different avatar, I did encounter this convo before in my playthrough but didn't get the chance to get screenshots :')

And HC Abyssal timeline below

Venefelis (1,000-0): The real polecat (HC that she has phantom paws cause she has Pummel in her skill list :) and Operation Kill the Witch. Of course, after being forced to stay in the timeout corner for 1,000 years, she became really existential about her own existence, her creator's absence and trying to figure out why the Abyssals were made except being overpowered cannon-fodder.

Rotramus (700 [-300 yrs.]): Considering that the Guild would be at its infancy and still aware of Venefelis' impact, it makes some sense if they started hunting down Rotramus to prevent a repeat incident. Also consider he's a twisted mirror to Nara's personality (anti-human but will possibly answer any question to anyone that finds him) and might've been a rip-the-bandage creation due to Nara's infamy with her family's downfall.

Pluvean (500 [-200 yrs.]): Yet another pacifist Abyssal that was found by Palmaya and just waited for the Guild to kill him (but I like to believe he discovered Cadium at some point and was disgusted by the humans "corrupting the waters"). Even if he's the contrast to Arqua's short temper and drive for human adoration, Pluvean is also a bit snippy about stating the obvious and being revived past his expected lifespan.

Inominox (400 [-100 yrs.]): And just when the Guild develop a false sense of security with dealing with the Abyssals, Inominox comes in with the big guns and starting picking off any weak tamers he could find (possibly making the Frozen Tundra his main hunting ground). But with Ventra's pride and cockiness spelled his downfall when the Guild intervened during one of his attacks. But whether the victim was too traumatized to recall his trigger or the information was lost to time, the Guild was back to square one when the Abyssal was revived.

Helevolk (350 [-50 yrs.]): Of course, there's not a lot to say about Helevolk besides being a more unstable version of Fona despite having a surprising amount of mental/emotional strength (mainly with him breaking through the N1 Nightmare mind-wiping to an extent), but it's a bit of a mystery on how he got his name despite being just as mindless and violent as a normal Nexomon [Hele: "to hide" + volk: "army" or "person/people"]. And I assume Lateria killed the beast by redirecting his tunnels or cornering him in the tunnels.

Caelesa (310 [-40 yrs.]): But to make matters worse for the Guild, they have to deal with another pacifist, human-avoidant Abyssal that will surely make them doubt their anti-Tyrant campaign. Of course, there's no real explanation how she was taken out or how long she evaded the Guild (and/or Lateria), but she clearly had enough time to believe that humans were dumb and violent brutes that have nothing better to do in their lives besides hunt what threatens them (though mostly directed at Finn the second he explains the Guild’s history with her). And fun fact, despite Caelesa being Normal-type (like Metta), she has a interesting set of elemental moves under her belt (also like Metta) so do with that info as you will :) [Base moves: Rocknite Blast, Thunder Blast, Plasma Star, Psy Field]

Volcel (280 [-30 yrs.]): Then after that wild-goose chase comes the giant electric moth(?), also being human-avoidant but will also mock everything and everyone below him for being simple earth-dwellers (really embodying Luxa’s superiority complex, huh?). While there isn’t any concrete evidence on how he was caught (since the Guild jumped to making a standard Tyrant bait), I’ll assume it was Lateria and their extremely heavy ordinance.

Braccus (260 [-20 yrs.]): Here comes the boy~! :D And unlike the older Abyssals (and being the second-youngest), he’s the only one that specifically mentions hearing his creator’s voice and learning his mission to attract the world’s attention by any means necessary; which he easily turns to destruction and carnage (becoming the Grunda he was meant to be) until Xanders “Bare Hands” Nexomon killed the beast and earned his Gold Tamer promotion. Also his dex entry mentions him destroying multiple cities before reaching Lateria and/or Grunda’s Chasm, so I’m betting he started his rampage at Royalle City since a “unnamed Tyrant” was the reason for its downfall.

Kroma (250 [-10 yrs.]): And finally, Operation Kill the Witch: Electric Boogaloo. And what better way to complete her life's mission is to plop her right into the Immortal Citadel while having the handy-dandy ability to mind-control ghosts. Whether she can control both human and Nexomon ghosts is up to debate, but I'm all for her being a tiny menace using the IC residents, the Greater Drake Krainnull, and Ulzar himself when the going got tough with Deena the one-woman army.

Either way, I mainly followed the Abyssals locations on Precursor Mountain from furthest left to right (apart from Venefelis being past Kroma's position), though it's extra funny that both Braccus and Kroma's places are almost melded together (with the haunted woods being halfway through the Braccus’ maze) so that's kind of where the idea came from. Either way, how in the world was I supposed to expect that these two were the YOUNGEST!?!?

And I love that this were the first thing I thought of (if anyone’s willing to make an artist’s representation of the disaster siblings, I’m all for it :)

[coffeebeans18]

Hands

Dean Winchester Smut

Pairings: Dom!Dean x Virgin!Y/n

Warnings: Some kinky shit. Nothing too serious. If you find something that needs a legitimate wanting, let me know.

Summary: Y/n's got a thing for hands and Dean's using it against her.

I'm sitting in the bunker's library with Dean. I'm supposed to be helping with research, but I keep getting distracted by his hands. His big, grease covered hands. For whatever reason, he chooses to eat the messiest things while doing research. And somehow, the mess never gets beyond his hands. I'm watching him eat and lick his fingers, when I'm supposed to be doing research. He's caught be staring at him, a few times, but he just have me a cocky comment like "I have that effect on people" or something like that. I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention. I was too busy looking at his hands. The man's already perfect, without looking at his hands. His hands only add on to the perfection.

"Watching me won't get anything done, Sweetheart."

Shit. Busted. Again.

"I'm sorry. I was just-"

"Staring at my hands again. I know. It's alright."

He stands up from his chair and starts walking towards me, abandoning his food and research.

"You know. If you want something, all you have to do is ask."

"Uh, what?"

"I've seen the way you look at me, Y/n. I know what you want. But you have to tell me. I'm pretty big on consent."

"I don't know what you-"

"Hey, look at me real quick."

I look at him, not sure what he's about to do. Then he dips his finger in his plate, getting grease on his finger. I watch as he shoves his finger in his mouth, licking it clean. There's an audible gasp, catching Dean's attention, which was already on me.

"See that? That look you give me when I use my hands?"

"I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean-"

"No need to apologize. Everybody has kinks, Y/n."

The hell's a kink? I feel a little embarrassed, not knowing what he's talking about. I think it relates to a sexual turn on.

"Everybody gets turned on." He says, probably noticing the confused look on my face.

"Oh. So hands can be kinky?"

"Anything can be kinky. It depends on the person."

Wow. The things you learn. I didn't even know what a kink was. And now I know that anything can be kinky.

"You wanna take a break from this?"

"Um, sure."

I close my laptop and stand up from my chair. I'm not sure what to do with myself. I should probably get rid of the hot feeling in my...area. I start heading to my room, but Dean steps me.

"Where are you going?"

"To my room. I thought you said we were taking a break."

"We are. In my room."

Why would we be taking a break in his room?

"Oh. Ok."

He gently grabs one of my hands and leads me to his room. Once there, he closes the door and leads me to his bed. I look up at him, still confused as to why we're in his room, and he motions for me to sit down. Or maybe he was motioning for me get on the bed, in a way that's not sitting down. I don't know.

"I'm ok standing."

"You wanna do this standing?"

"Do what?"

"Damn. I guess I read the signs wrong. I'm sorry. I thought you wanted to-"

"What signs?"

"When we were talking about turn ons and your thing with my hands, I thought you wanted to do something."

"I do, but, um-"

"Not with me. I get it. It's ok."

"No. I've never done anything before."

He just looks at me for a second. It looks like he's trying to see if I'm being serious.

"Seriously?"

I nod, embarrassed that at 28 years old, I've never had sex or done anything sexual.

"You're a virgin?"

"Is that bad?"

"Being that we're about to go on a hunt for a witch who kills virgins, yes. But any other time, no. You were probably just waiting for the right person. But I hate to break it to you, if you're still a virgin in the next 8 hours, you're not going on this hunt."

"I was kinda hoping that you could, um, help?"

"You want me to help you? Help you what?"

The smirk on his lips tells me that he knows exactly what I want his help with. I think he's teasing me.

"Tell me what you need help with, Sweetheart."

"I need you to fuck me."

He nods and motions again for me to get on the bed. I lay down, on my back, and Dean slowly gets on top of me. He's kissing my neck and making his way down to my shirt.

"Off." He commands.

I usually don't like being told what to do, but that's usually with basic shit. I've never been in a sexual situation before. I've heard of people liking to be told what to do in bed. Am I one of those people? Doesn't matter. I do as he said and take off my shirt. He takes off his own and starts taking off my pants. I help him with his own pants and he starts kissing my body. This feels nice. I like this. He eventually makes his way back up to my bra, and I take it off. I've never been so revealed in front of someone else. But I'm oddly comfortable, probably because I know that Dean's not judging me for how my body looks.

"You're beautiful, Baby."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course I mean that. I'm about to show you just how much I mean it."

He leans down to kiss me, which I've also never done before. This all seems so easy. How have I never done this before? He slips my underwear off, then slips two fingers into me. He's pushing them in and out and it feels fucking amazing. This feels a lot better than I thought it would. Dean's fingers feel a lot better than I thought they would. I wouldn't think that such big fingers would feel so good inside of me. If anything, I'd think they'd hurt. But it doesn't hurt. It feels quite nice, actually. It doesn't take long for me to feel like I'm gonna cum. Can I do that? On his fingers? Would he be mad about that? I don't know how to control it, so it's gonna happen. Is he gonna be mad?

"That's it, Sweetheart. Cum on my fingers."

I guess not. I cum on his fingers and he slips them out of me. He leans forward and shoves his fingers into my mouth, making me taste myself. I lick his fingers clean with no hesitation, and he takes them out of my mouth. He takes his underwear off, revealing his hard dick. How is he hard already? I seriously don't know how any of this works.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

I nod and he lines himself up with my entrance.

"If I hurt you or you just feel like you wanna stop, you let me know and I'll stop. Ok?"

"Ok. Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Please go gentle."

"Of course."

He slowly pushes himself into me and I let out a shocked moan. This hurts, but not in a painful way. You know?

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok. Keep going."

He pushes himself deeper into me until he can't fit anymore of himself into me. He gives me a second to adjust before he starts thrusting in and out of me. It slowly stops hurting and starts to feel really good.

"You're doing so good, Sweetheart. So good for me."

He's going slow, a little too slow. I want him to go faster, but I'm afraid it might hurt. But I really want him to go faster.

"Faster."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go faster."

He's thrusting really fast now and I'm pretty sure I'm about to cum. Again. I can't describe how I'm feelings, but I can say that it feels good. Like, really good. He places both of his hands on each side of my head as he starts breathing really hard.

"Dean, I think I'm-"

"Cum for me, Baby."

I cum on his dick and he pulls out of me, cumming on the floor. I'm so glad that the bunker isn't carpeted. That would be a sticky situation. I'm sorry. I think I'm funny. Anyways, we're both breathing really hard and Dean's kissing my head and telling me how good I was for him.

"I did good?"

"Good? You did great, Baby."

He walks to his bathroom and comes back with a towel. He cleans the floor and my thighs, then throws the towel in his laundry basket. He lays down next to me and pulls me close to him.

"That was awesome."

I smiles and he kisses my forehead again.

"We should get back to research."

"We have time. And you should rest for a little while."

He's right. I should rest for a little while. That might've been awesome, but it was also tiring. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep in Dean's arms, happy that of all the people in the world, he was the one who took my virginity.

[heliads]

Hi, same anon who asked before! Can I please request Goody with a female reader who’s secretly a witch and a member of the seven and he finds out when she uses magic during a fight and takes out like ten guys at once? Thanks so much ❤️❤️

this is incredible. magnificent seven fans we must find each other

masterlist

Witches are not real. We love stories, all of us, tall tales and fables and legends too, but they’re not real. No matter how many times your older cousins whisper things to you under the cover of nightfall, terrible, twisted imaginings about elderly crones with raven familiars or eternally youthful enchantresses compelled to grind the bones of wrongdoers, we know they are not real. The glow of the firelight makes you think they could be real, but they are, at the end of the day, just stories. Stories, and nothing more.

Witches are real, because you are. There is no telling how it happened, what combination of full moons and thirteenth Fridays, black cats and broken mirrors, all manifested to make you what you are. We are a product of what we need. Perhaps your family needed the protection that a normal daughter could not bring. Perhaps they just deserved the curse of you. No one can tell for sure.

You grew up in a small town, same as everyone else’s but wonderfully original, too. The lanterns that swayed when a cold wind blew in were a particular shade of muted gold known only to you, the floors creak in a tune that no one else would hear quite like you did. Backcountry village dwellers know the clopping of new hoofs, the signal of a newcomer, and they know how the sun beats down on your back after a long day of work, but they’ll never know your particular shade of it.

It was a quiet upbringing, for the most part. Your mother raised you right, and turned a blind eye when you took to foraging in the woods for plants and stones she did not recognize. She wasn’t too pleased about the whole affair at first, but then one of the younger boys across the street broke her favorite ceramic jug, the one her mother had made. You fixed it with a few muttered words and a twist of your wrist, and after that your specific brand of devilry was allowed in the house so long as no one else saw it.

No child likes to hide away forever, though, not when they feel there’s nothing about them unduly wrong. Perhaps the devil himself had chosen to make you a little more than human, or perhaps the angels lingered too long over your cradle when you were a baby, but regardless of the source, you were still you, still good, and you didn’t see why that warranted the need to forever live in shame and fear of discovery.

You came close one night. You were old enough to outgrow your mother but too young to match her wisdom. In an attempt to help your family, you were almost discovered while trying to turn the smallish squirrel one of your brothers caught into something better, something that could feed all of you. One of the neighbors had decided to do a little poking around at the time you were spellcasting, and that little glimpse could have cost you everything. 

They never saw anything outright suspicious, but it was too close, and the prospect of a witch hunt wouldn’t do you any good out here when no one would speak up for you. People don’t like girls with mouths to run. No one would defend such a witch from the flame.

If the town will not protect the girl, then the girl will protect herself. You ran far away, far enough away that no one had heard your name and certainly didn’t care to listen to it. You find work here and there, never quite enough pay to make you settle in one place but enough to keep you alive. You pass from village to village, city to city, and somehow along the way, you find a little place called Rose Creek.

It’s not a marvel by any means. This is a town. You have seen many of its kind before, countless iterations of the same style of brick and mortar and abandoned hopes for better things. The faces are new, the people down on different kinds of luck, but it’s largely the same as always. You were planning on repeating your usual schedule of sticking around for a few months before hitting the road again lest someone discover you, but then you hear about the situation they’ve got going on and you decide otherwise.

A man named Sam Chisholm is putting together a plan to release Rose Creek from some kind of mining tycoon. He’s asking for every able hand to pitch in, something you hear about when you ride in later that night. Over time, you’ve had to learn how to defend yourself from a great many sharp-eyed bullies who’ve found you out, so your marksmanship is as good as any hired gun. 

You find Sam’s main group sitting around a table at a nearby saloon and decide to offer up your services. Doing good makes you feel better, eases the heavy burden that always seems to press against your ribs after too many long nights. When you have gifts like yours and you don’t use them to help, it’s as good as aiding the enemy.

The men take your offer about as expected. One of them, a cocky hotshot you later learn is called Faraday, actually starts laughing. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chokes out between guffaws, “I don’t think you’re made for the front lines. Maybe you can help get the rest of the women and children to safety, though?”

You arch a brow. The rest of the group has the decency to shake their heads and look away, avoiding eye contact. “Alright,” you tell him coolly, “Just to ease my temper, though, would y’want to engage in a bit of a shooting contest? Since we’re so far from the front lines now, I’m sure I’ll survive somehow.”

Faraday grins and agrees to your challenge in a heartbeat, smirking over at his friends like he isn’t stressed about losing in the slightest. One of the men looks like he might have to disagree with Faraday’s bravado, though. He’s a little older than the man rolling his eyes as he heads out to the targets outside the saloon, and looks at you with a smile you’re pretty sure is with you instead of just at your expense.

This second man chuckles a little to himself, takes a swallow of the drink in front of him, and tells you to make Faraday wager on the contest, just so your opponent can embarrass himself a little more. You laugh at that, raising your hand in mock salute before joining Faraday outside the saloon. The rules of the shooting contest are agreed upon; three targets from increasingly far distances, closest to the center wins.

Five rounds later, Faraday’s swears increase in volume as he loses progressively more money, and you’re sitting at Sam Chisholm’s table, discussing the group’s plan to rid Rose Creek of its rather oppressive hosts. You learn the names and attitudes of all those at the table, including the one who’d known you’d win from the start.

Goodnight Robicheaux is not what you’d expected of him. You’ve heard stories of an ex-soldier with a gift for bloodthirst, as the so-called Angel of Death is a tale that’s spread far and wide even without Goodnight’s input, but you hadn’t expected the actual man behind the myth to be quite like him. Goody’s nice, a decent man and a better shot, but you wouldn’t connect the name with the body unless someone told you. Goodnight doesn’t like showing off with a gun.

In fact, he doesn’t like touching a weapon at all. You can tell that it’s starting to rankle Faraday and the rest of the men from Rose Creek who’ve agreed to help out– here you have a legend of the war, and he won’t even look at a gun– but Goodnight steadfastly refuses to give in to their not so silent pressure. He offers advice and has promised to help liberate the town, but he will not become the man of such fear and admiration.

You have to respect it. Although you haven’t asked Goody why he won’t shoot a round with the rest, you can guess as to why. Death doesn’t come easy to everyone. This man is a soldier. Was a soldier. He knows what it is to hate what you are. You can understand that better than anyone.

Maybe that’s why the two of you have gotten along so well. You talk when you want to, swap stories when you wish it, but when the nights get long and neither of you can sleep for memories both of you want to hide, you can find him pacing the streets of the town, and you know that you are not alone. Sometimes you walk for miles in the silence, and you have never felt more secure.

The day of the attack sneaks up on you. Bogue’s men show up on the horizon, too many, too strong, but Rose Creek won’t waver and neither will you. You all have your places to be so this mad plan can be orchestrated, so when the sun starts to flood across the sky, you hurry to your station, ready your gun, and prepare your mind to die.

You swore to yourself that you would not use magic during this fight. You don’t need your spells, not really; you’ve long since learned that it’s safer to use a gun to fight off attackers, so you trust your aim in cases like this. The benefit of magic, though, is its strength. Picking off enemy fighters one by one with a gun is nothing compared to how simple it would be to pull up energy from the ground and condemn a dozen men to their graves in the span of half a second.

You can feel it gnawing at you throughout the fight, the knowledge of how easy it would be to end it all. Is it not a sort of betrayal to your friends, to have the capacity to save them all the faster but refuse to use it? You are helping them with your guns right now, but could it ever be enough?

You will not use your spells. You cannot. You should not. Bogue’s men seem to pour out of every cavity in every wall, a thousand rats in a plague upon your friends. If this is your last stand, so be it. It is a good thing to die for a good cause. Better when you’ve spent your whole life running in the hopes of finding something like it.

There is one thing you cannot accept, however, and that is the death of someone you care about. It is one thing to rationalize your own self-sacrifice, but when you look across the battlefield and realize that the bullets of a Gatling gun are about to speed across town and wreck the very church steeple in which Goodnight and Billy are stationed in, the shock and fear of it cuts you like a blade to the heart. 

There is no time, none at all. The trigger has already been pulled. There is nothing any man could do to save them, not up there. You will have the perfect view as they fall from all the way up there. And you look up at him, up on the steeple, and you know that he is not coming down. Not unless you do something. Not unless you do it now.

Nothing no man could do. You are no regular man. It is the easiest thing in the world to think of what you wish. The magic responds instantly, tugging away from your fingers and into the earth. It’s like it’s been waiting this whole time, begging to be used. Clouds of dust rise up from the streets, forming a perfect circle around the church. Then, in a flash, they move out, blocking everything in their path. The bullets ricochet off, finding new targets in the sides of buildings and even enemy soldiers. You count a dozen downed fighters, maybe more than that, all having previously aimed to kill your friends. All dead now.

The Gatling gun goes silent. All is quiet for a moment. You see silhouettes shifting up in the church steeple, and even from this distance, you recognize Goody when he stands and stares at you. Your hands are raised. No one else had been focused on the steeple except for you. There is no proof that you could do something like that, but he does not need proof to explain what he feels, what he knows right now.

We do not ask questions when impossible things happen. Not when they are good. When a bullet that should have struck you right between your eyes somehow curves and misses you mid flight, you praise the Lord instead of asking why. When you swear you caught two fish but there are four flopping there on the bank the next time you blink, you only admire the fine meal you have before you. They could have known you were a witch, all of them. Odds are they did. You don’t ask, though. None of us do. 

Goodnight asks. He waits until the battle is over, until it is won, until the only danger comes from him knowing and you not being able to tell how he will react. He times it so you almost think you’ll get away without him putting two and two together, and then he turns to you, muffled by the din of victorious conversation, and asks, “It was you that saved us, wasn’t it?”

You shrug, looking away with a pointed determination. “I’d say that’s a pretty strong compliment. We all helped as much as we could, you know. Saying that I specifically saved you ignores the rest.”

Goody shakes his head. “You know what I’m talking about. Bullets can’t bounce off of thin air. Unless, of course, someone makes them.”

Your fingers are perfectly still on the table in front of you. “I don’t know how that would happen.”

“Neither do I,” Goody says quietly, “And I’ve decided that it’s not important to me that I do know. What’s important to me is that whoever saved us risked their life to do so. Secrets like that can be deadly. If you ever find out who diverted those bullets, I’d like you to thank them for me.”

You risk a glance his way. Goodnight’s looking fondly at his friends gathered on the other side of the table– a round of cards has started up already, even though the only deck they have has been riddled severely by bullet holes– but that smile, that smile is for you. You know it. He does too.

“It might have been me,” you whisper.

He looks over at you at last. “I’m glad it was,” he tells you. “I’m glad it was you.”

magnificent seven tag list: empty for now, feel free to ask to be added!

bonus tag for @starlit-epiphany bc its your man!! and there are other people than us still in this fandom!!

[lacktastrophe]

I read BCB recently, but Augustus and Daisy's relationship always struck me as strange. I don't think anyone ever told Daisy that Augustus was just trying to kiss her and nothing more. But it still doesn't seem to be treated that heavily, and Daisy seems to (mostly) move past the manipulation and the forced aspect of after the carnival weirdly well and fast, without any signs of trauma. Do you think there's a reason for this?

The kids do treat it seriously as we've seen in a few pages, but there hasn't really been a need to bring it up as often out of respect for Daisy, because in all honesty it was an awful and miscalculated mistake that she shouldn't be ridiculed over. But I'd assume the main ones were because Daisy rebounded with Abbey and has been largely happy during that period, Augustus had not been seen again until chapters like Pillow Talk and Total Recall, and many of the other kids had been distracted with their own issues. Despite this, it's on their mind as soon as they see Augustus as we've seen from pages like High Expectations and It's All In The Mind and so on.

I'd be pretty sure this news wouldn't have transferred beyond their circle either as we haven't really seen any of the other kids need to talk about it or whatever. None of the other kids would've tried to paint it differently, no one outside of Abbey, Daisy and Tess had interactions with Augustus, so why would they try to suggest Abbey's account was different? Everyone seems to recognise it for what it was; abuse.

Even Lucy, who becomes Augustus' friend much later and possibly knows more about the dealings of that evening doesn't shy away from the seriousness of the situation and cannot find the means to try and explain or defend his actions. The ends dont' justify the means. It was an extremely shitty thing for him to do and he owns it.

There hasn't been a real need to bring up this elephant as Augustus is mostly a no-show for a long period after the chapter that started it all. We revisit that night two times at most, when Lucy needs to talk to Daisy when she finds Augustus trying to talk to her in Pillow Talk and she needs to discern motive, and again in Total recall, ironically on the anniversary of that evening where through Lucy's absence, a lonely Augustus re-enters the picture.

The closest person who would try to paint it as just a kiss was likely Augustus before he realises the jig is up, when Daisy needs a moment before telling him "That IS far", and referring loudly to the more silent parts of the thing Augustus tried to navigate around; the psychological manipulation that preceeded it. But thankfully Augustus realises the jig is up and admits to fucking it all up.

I'm not an expert in emotional trauma — but I'd feel that Daisy might have found a way to navigate around her situation in a way that she can explain the reason for that night so it doesn't bother her as much as back in Pillow Talk; particularly with how Augustus had managed to confide and spill much about his situation to her before hand, she might've found a way to navigate through the experience as it not being him, as we've seen in Pillow Talk. But that isn't to say that there isn't some sort of post-traumatic stress trigger from the evening, as him just appearing does form some unease in her, as in Total Recall. She recognises she's liable to let her feelings allow her to be manipulated. She's got the same desire to care for something Like Lucy, but she can't lower her guard around him because of that fear, which is why she tells him he needs help, but it can't be from her. Whether there are other triggers, we just don't know at this stage, Daisy's been playing it safe.

I think the only chapter which might mitigate the seriousness of the whole situtation involving that night is Witch Hunt if you read it on the surface. But you can find people being initially demotivated from hanging around Lucy and Augustus because the latter was the deterrent, and the negative associations that came with him. You can be sure they sure as hell don't forgive him, but they're willing to tolerate him so long as they can hang out with Lucy.

[night-dark-woods]

Finally reading all the way through the Witch Queen CE lorebook and thinking about the three queens... these are the only entries i can find that mention that thought experiment.

WQCE:

By poking random spots, I've got the idea that the crystal is composed of different isomer territories which compete along their boundaries to recruit each other. The isomer domains also generate mutants within themselves, which spread and take over if they have superior recruiting properties; I've even seen encysted "laboratories" where mutants compete before the winners breach the barrier and spill into the surrounding lattice. Our three queens in action again? I promise not to dive into Bieberbach's theorem and abelian subgroups, but there's some fascinating math going on here.

Infinite Lines Gauntlets:

"I saw three queens. No, two. No... just one." —RECORD 351-CHASM-6915

and then this part of the initial lore entry that the idea is from:

Ghost Fragment: Darkness 3:

Imagine three great nations under three great queens. The first queen writes a great book of law and her rule is just. The second queen builds a high tower and her people climb it to see the stars. The third queen raises an army and conquers everything.

The future belongs to one of these queens. Her rule is harshest and her people are unhappy. But she rules.

This explains everything, understand? This is why the universe is the way it is, and not some other way. Existence is a game that everything plays, and some strategies are winners: the ability to exist, to shape existence, to remake it so that your descendants - molecules or stars or people or ideas - will flourish, and others will find no ground to grow.

And as the universe ticks on towards the close, the great players will face each other. In the next round there will be three queens and all of them will have armies, and now it will be a battle of swords - until one discovers the cannon, or the plague, or the killing word.

Everything is becoming more ruthless and in the end only the most ruthless will remain (LOOK UP AT THE SKY) and they will hunt the territories of the night and extinguish the first glint of competition before it can even understand what it faces or why it has transgressed. This is the shape of victory: to rule the universe so absolutely that nothing will ever exist except by your consent. This is the queen at the end of time, whose sovereignty is eternal because no other sovereign can defeat it. And there is no reason for it, no more than there was reason for the victory of the atom. It is simply the winning play.

that thesis statement (This is the shape of victory: to rule the universe so absolutely that nothing will ever exist except by your consent.) is also echoed here:

The Hidden Dossier:

Sen-Aret, let me tell you something I have told no one else. I know that in the end, the Darkness can win. Do you understand what I mean? By its very nature, the Darkness is the judge of what will exist and what will pass away. In the end, there may be only Darkness because all that exists will remain only by its consent.

Crest of Alpha Lupi:

Whoever survives our passing does so only by our consent.

and interestingly enough, also echoed by Uldren here (while he's under Savathun's influence by way of Riven!):

Free | Part I:

"I've come to finish it," Uldren tells her. He even tries to smile, because he is being honest. He's telling the truth. "I've realized I was a fool to try to surprise her. We all exist through her design, Illyn. We all act only by her consent. I'm going to save her, because she needs me to save her. When she needs me to die, I will die. And when she has completed her great design for the Awoken, the Awoken will die, too. It is the reward we so richly deserve, for we owe everything to Mara. It would be… wrong for us to outlive our purpose. Trust me. Life without her is worse than… worse than…"

no real point here! i just love finding all the repititions of a phrase in the lore tabs.

[a-dumbass-jester]

Witch’s heart x The Magnus archives au!!!

Claire - Vast

Ashe - Spiral

Wilardo - End/Hunt

Sirius - Eye

Noel - Flesh

Charlotte - Slaughter

Zizel - Stranger

Lime - Desolation

Rouge - Web

!!Also quick disclaimer it’s been a hot minute since I’ve been into wh so some things might be incorrect!!

First off idk if this is just wh but with the entities of if it’s entirely tma’s world. It’s probably going to be the first tho

Also all the demons are human(or at least used to be)

Also for non tma meowtuals here is a chart of the entities and here is a video essays for them(it’s unfinished, there’s still two entities to cover) i also linked the wiki pages for the entities mentioned, if anyone is interested (I’d recommend listening to the actual thing but if you don’t wanna watch 200 episodes to understand this, here you go)

- Vast!claire was actually the second to last one I came up with. If Wilardo’s still immortal/ 500 years old she realizes that in a few hundred years no one will remember her and that she doesn’t matter in the big picture. And while initially it scares her later she instead finds comfort in it. She becomes a lot like Simon. Becoming a very “live in the moment” kind of person. “I don’t matter in the long run why not have some fun”. I can also she her having fun with the falling thing. There’s a hc I remember seeing for the vast avatars (specifically Simon) where their eyes changed depending on the sky. Claire already has blue eyes, just add clouds or stars!!

- Spiral!Ashe because they have a lot if similar themes. Spiraling mental health, hallucinations, fake friends, manipulation. I can see him trying to bring his family back and accidentally sacrificing himself to it instead. Also it’s avatars are typically very tall and thin(and colorful). I also like the idea of Ashe being a surreally tall, thin and colorful hallucinatory headache. The spiral has a fake place called “Sannikov Land” and I can imagine him saying he’s from there

- End/Hunt!Wilardo. Idk witch one to pick so I’ll explore both. The end is mainly if he’s still immortal. If he is, he finds comfort in it and that the end will take all eventually. It might be centuries but it will take him and he will finally get to rest. I also rlly like him with the ends powers. Like the dreams of peoples deaths, THE ROOTS (That show how people DIE!!!)

For the hunt, it’s mainly if gramps is alive (and their both mortal) mainly because I’m assigning them to Julia and Trevor. At some point them meet probably dealing with the end or another entity and end up sticking with each other in a similar was Julia and Trevor did (idk how they met I just assume that’s what happened), and both of them end up becoming part of the hunt

- Eye!Sirius, idk how he got marked but I assume maybe messing with Dorothy’s stuff or a leitner. I think the wanting to know, see and understand thing fits with Sirius very well. I can see him using it to call bs on some stuff Ashe says. Like going back to “Sannikov Land”, Ashe says he’s from there and Sirius is like “no your not. That’s not a real place.”

- Flesh!Noel is the last and most difficult one I came up with. It’s also a bit weak but it fits the best. Originally I chose it because of the flesh monster he becomes. But the rest of it kinda fits as well. The flesh is strongly associated with dysphoria, and even if you don’t hc him as trans that would still be a lot of dysphoria he would of had as a kid. I also rlly like Noel having a more animalistic fear. He became an avatar when he was cursed in cannon

- Slaughter!Charlotte. It seems a bit easy giving the war criminal the war and (sudden) violence one but anyway. She’s probably still (mostly) human. just a bit more (openly) violent, and quick to do so. The slaughter is also strongly associated with music, specifically air(?) instruments so I like to picture her walking onto a battlefield (especially no man’s land) in an actual war/military uniform playing the flute or something.

- Stranger!Zizel. This one was kinda a bias because the stranger’s my favorite(and I love Zizel) but I also LOVE uncanny valley doll Zizel. Idk if she was ever human because the stranger seems to prefer manifestations over human avatars. And either would work so idk. I feel like it adds to the lack of identity tbh. But anyways uncanny valley doll Zizel <3<3

- Desolation!Lime. This one was probably one of, it not the easiest to assign. From the fire themes, to the destruction of others and their lives. I can see her with a similar role to Jude Perry. She encounters the cult of the lightless flame sometime in her 20s (specifically 25 because that’s when she becomes a demon in cannon) and falling in love with their beliefs. I can see Lime following Jude’s story in general. She joins the lightless flame in the 80s/90s and after becoming an avatar she becomes made of wax. I like to imagine her and Sirius as that one scene where Jude and Jon meet. They make a deal where Lime would tell Sirius (pre eye) something important but they have to shake hands, lime, made of wax, burns his hand.

I can also see Matty being part of the lightless flame. Like the burning down Ashes house and destroying his life is something they would do

- Web!Rouge. I feel like control theming fits well with Rouge. If anyone were to create structured plans on how things could go I feel like I would be her. The web also has stong themes of addiction, puppets, and that your actions aren’t rlly yours, which I can see fitting. I also rlly like a spider like Rouge. Like her with multiple spider like eyes and arms. The web is also called “the mother of puppets” which I can see fitting her. I also sometimes see people draw her with a web on her jacket so

Other side stuff (world building kinda)

I’m rlly glad I assigned Web and Desolation to Rouge and Lime because their known to not get along. They constantly clash because of the Web’s intricate plans and the Desolation’s destructive chaos

I feel like do to how close Noel is with Rouge, he was also marked by the web. Not a very strong mark but still a mark.

Dorothy plays a similar role to Gertrude because she deserves to be an absolute badass. She’s spent a good majority of her life fighting the entities, stoping rituals, etc.

Fiona and Sirius’s parents were still accused of being “witchs” and burned but this time the main motivator was that Nicholas would accuse people of serving an entity

Speaking of Fiona Elford I’m giving her Fiona Law’s role because they share a name

(Also I would link Fiona Law’s wiki page but she doesn’t have one apparently)

Fiona would pass out when she got scared which helped her survive against the entities. She would be unconscious so they couldn’t feed off of her fear, and left her alone

Giving more to the role Gramps is going to play, Trevor is a vampire hunter, so Gramps would probably take that role, and and fell victim to the hunt first and later finds Wilardo.

That’s basically it!!

I don’t have much for plot. It’s jut wh characters in tma so I assume it’s like just that plot

Wait actually they still meet in the mansion but it’s connected to the entities

There’s no murder or timelines but it was genuinely the rain!

The entities mess with them for a bit and are let out a bit later either before the change or as it’s happening

The five of them wonder a apocalyptic world where the entities have taken over (and maybe meet the “demons” again)

That’s genuinely it!!! If anyone has any ideas, please say something, I’d love to talk more about this

Thank you for reading!!