I WOULD NEVER LEAVE DEAN A DOG FOREVER! Those fics kill me. Where Dean/Sam end up permanently de-aged or animalized or whatnot. It's heart-breaking and evil. And so not how things would/should ever be, gah...OR DEAN STUCK AS A GIRL! WHAT THE HELLLLL! -insert pain and agony here- ;-; Now that I got that off my chest...XD BABYREAPER=FTW. Just saying. XD And thanks for the faves and alerts, m'dears! They brighten my soulll! XD Now onto doggishness! And brotherly goodness! And such! XD ~ : D
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November, 1997
Sam was having his turn at being frozen in shock, because he couldn't quite grasp the reality of what he was seeing. The dog, the supposedly dead dog was alive. Fine. He could handle that. The dog had green eyes that looked pretty weird for a dog, and a whole Hell of a lot like Dean's eyes. Okay. Weird, but okay. His father had told him to take the dog. Didn't make sense, but sure, okay.
But the amulet?
That threw him for a loop.
The dog was staring up at him with those wide, green eyes, and his small body trembling-most likely unintentionally. And then a little noise came from the dog, a short, gurgled, whimpering sort of noise that-if Sam had to guess-was a kind of questioning noise. Only one thing came to mind when he heard it, one familiar, repetitive memory.
"Sammy?"
But that was impossible, because it was just a dog...a dog in Dean's jacket, that John had-despite being wrecked up himself-had bothered to bring in, a dog that was wearing Dean's amulet, Dean who was gone...
Sam didn't realize he was going to speak until he heard his voice, uncertain and faintly choked. "...Dean?"
The dog's ears twitched and he gave a low whine, and Sam knew, he knew, but he refused to believe. Because this was too weird even for them, because the idea of his big brother being a dog was too much, especially after he'd just spent the past half hour or so mourning his brother bitterly.
The dog seemed to try to move closer, it moved a paw in Sam's direction, but it only managed to fall flat on it's face on shaky, trembling legs. The dog whimpered again, and it tilted it's head back only to jerk as it seemed to look at itself and let out a long, whining noise.
And then it seemed to panic.
Small paws scrabbled against the carpet as the dog began jerking and rolling about wildly, and Sam scooted back with wide eyes as the mess of fur continued to unsuccessully attempt to rise, all the while making frustrated, high-pitched noises.
If this were just a dog, it wouldn't make sense, unless maybe the dog was mad but it wasn't like it was foaming at the mouth or anything. But if this were Dean, then it would make sense [at least-in that respect] because Dean would have to be freaked out beyond all reason if he just caught himself having been turned into a dog.
Sam hesitated and then said sharply, a slight stammer in his voice thanks to the panicked racing of his heart as the possibility of it being true sank in. "D-Dean."
The dog jerked and stopped suddenly, and slowly it squirmed a bit before green eyes slowly met brown ones and the dog gave a low whine. And then it started rallying off in a series of growls and whines, and Sam stammered. "S-Stop! Stop, alright? I can't understand you!"
The dog's mouth froze, hung open before it slowly closed and those pointed ears drooped. Even so, a low, rumbling whimper made it's way past the dogs throat, and Sam suspected that several of the noises the dog-Dean-had made were unintentional.
Sam eyed the dog for a moment, and for that moment, neither moved and merely stared. But finally, Sam hesitated and then muttered. "Okay...uh...God, this is crazy...okay, if you are Dean...bark twice."
The dog stared at Sam, and when he didn't move, Sam feared it really was crazy. But then the dog gave a resigned sort of sigh as it opened it's mouth and made a couple of gargled noises. Apparently barking wasn't so easy as whining or growling, and the green eyes that fixed on Sam seemed to him, frustrated.
"...A-Alright...um...well, can you nod? If you're Dean, then just...nod your head, alright?"
Dean eyed him again, and Sam couldn't help but note how purely Dean it seemed. A flicker of annoyance, that sort of really, Sam? tilt to his head. But the dog struggled to sit up a bit and slowly gave a very deliberate nod.
"Shit." Sam whispered. He didn't curse often, but he felt that the occasion called for it.
At that, Dean's frustration seemed to return and he started whining and growling, and Sam gathered that he was trying to speak again.
"Dean, I..I don't understand...you're growling at me."
Dean's ears drooped a bit further and his canine brother stared at Sam before he looked over and saw John's legs hanging over the bed. The dog gave an instant whine and without thinking, apparently, tried to move closer. But Dean, obviously, wasn't used to walking as a dog, nor to his new form, and he just sort of rose and flopped onto his belly. A frustrated growl rumbled in Dean's throat, and he tilted his head away from Sam in what he gathered was embarrassment. Sam knew his big brother well, after all.
"Dad's okay." he said softly, like one might talk to a wounded animal. Dean's ears jerked, but he didn't turn his head. "He's...hurt, but he's okay, I took care of some his injuries while he was sleeping...he brought you in with him..." Sam paused and then asked. "Did the witch do this to you?"
A beat. And then Dean slowly tilted his head back and managed to lift enough to give a nod in the affirmative.
Sam took note of the blood on Dean's fur once again and asked. "Are you hurt?"
Dean seemed to consider it and then shook his head.
"...Is the witch dead?"
Dean hesitated and then gave a low whine. Sam wasn't sure of his meaning, and he didn't have a way to clarify so he passed it over for the moment. He would ask their Dad when he woke up. In the meantime...he had his newly furry big brother to deal with.
Sam had said he'd wanted a dog, but at the moment, he was kind of wishing there was no such thing.
Sam hesitated and then scooted closer. Dean eyed him somewhat warily, but he didn't move away. He lifted his head up to look at Sam and his face scrunched up in a kind of wince. "I must seem kinda big right now, huh?" Sam said lamely, and Dean didn't bother to dignify that with any kind of response.
Sam hesitated again before he brought his hand towards Dean, who instantly growled. Sam's hand stopped mid-reach and he paused before he went ahead anyway and brought his hand down on Dean's small head.
Dean gave another growl that became a light whine as Sam stroked the fur on his head gently. Sam did it partially out of curiosity-or was it fascination? But mostly because his brother had to be way more freaked out than he was letting on, and Sam wanted to comfort him somehow. It just figured. Dean had gone in to help John and he ended up walking away with this.
"Whatever this is, Dean...we'll find a way to fix it...I bet Dad'll know what to do." he offered, and Dean huffed a bit. Whether in doubt, or agreement, he wasn't quite sure and he didn't want to dwell on his own uncertainty on the subject. The conviction that they would-no matter what-fix Dean warred with the simple question of how. Sam brushed his fingers over one of Dean's ears, and Dean shivered slightly with a low whine and tilted his head away. Ears are sensitive, duly noted. Sam made a mental note. He brought his hand back up, and Dean watched him in what could only be described as glumly, but allowed Sam to run his fingers over his head and back. Dean's fur was soft, except for where blood had dried, and he also noted that Dean was going to need to get cleaned up. But that was going to be a battle for later, for now...he'd just have to wait for their Dad to wake up and figure this all out.
He had to.
...
One minute, Dean was facing down a witch with John at his side-and the next...he was waking up with a killer headache, and a feeling of disorientation that beat out even the worst hangover he'd-as of yet-ever had. He noted that something was on him as he began to stir and he tried to shove it off before he was met with light, and everything kind of hit him at once. Everything just...smelled strong, really strong, like bad perfumes. And the clock ticking away on the wall seemed pretty loud in his ears. But moreover, he heard Sam's voice-kind of booming too-and he tilted his gaze over to his brother. When had Sam gotten there anyway?
Dean let his eyes open a bit more and it took him a second to realize two things. One...everything was black and white, and grey, and just...wrong. And Sam looked like a friggen giant. What the Hell, Sam? he tried to speak, but his mouth felt heavy and wouldn't work right, and he was aware of an odd whining noise coming from...him? Little guy..? Huh?
But Sam was getting closer, bigger, and Dean's eyes widened as he squirmed his way out of the confines of whatever the Hell was holding him, and he found himself off-balance immediately. Dean just stared up at his little brother, stunned and confused. Sammy?
His little brother just kept staring at him, and then he spoke Dean's name and he tried to speak. No shit, Sherlock...what's going on, man? But Sam didn't reply, or even seem to register his words, he just kept up that damned staring. He tried to move closer and failed utterly, and he finally realized that his entire body just felt...wrong. Dean craned his head to try and see what the problem was, when he took stock of the fact that his body was small, furry, and...he had a tail.
A tail.
Dean panicked and began trying to get to his feet, words pouring out of his mouth that didn't even really make sense to him as he tried to get up and managed to fail everytime. He had no idea what was going on, this had to be some kind of bad, witch-induced trip or, or something, anything but for it to be real.
"D-Dean." Sam's voice jerked him to a halt, and he turned his head to his brother with wide-eyes.
Sam! What the Hell is going on? This isn't happening, c'mon, man, tell me this a dream...what the Hell is going on here?
"S-Stop! Stop, alright! I can't understand you!"
Dean stopped instantly, and he stared up at Sam as the realization hit him. Sam couldn't understand a damned thing he was saying because...he was...a dog? He was a dog. Dean felt his body slump and he kind of whimpered. His body kept making those noises of it's own accord, like a stomach-growling except it was damned dog-noises and way uncool.
Yeah, because getting turned into a dog was.
Sam was back to staring at him, and then he asked for Dean to bark twice. He wanted to hit the kid, he really did, but Dean saw the logic in it as well. As it was, he wasn't really sure how Sam had recognized him to begin with. So Dean obliged and tried to bark, but he found that 'woof, woof' didn't come out quite the same in a dog's body and he made more of those stupid noises again. Damnit.
And then Sam wanted him to nod. Dean eyed his brother in annoyance. What was he? Some kind of show-dog? But he gave in and after a struggled to push himself upright a bit, he nodded his head. Every movement felt wrong, he felt squished in his current skin and trapped. All of his eighteen years of life as a human hunter and male, trapped and squished into the body of a puppy.
"Shit." Sam whispered.
Tell me about it, kid.
Well, clearly Sam knew that it was him now, he had to have something. Some kind of answer for this. You gotta help me, Sam. It was that witch! She had a partner! Bitch double-teamed us and-
"Dean, I..I don't understand...you're growling at me."
Dean could feel his ears droop, and he watched Sam morosely before he noted the torn jeans of his father to his right and instinct kicked in as he tried to move over to his father. But that was another failed attempt in action. Damnit... He didn't bother to look at Sam, he felt wrong, and strange, and like an idiot.
"Dad's okay."
Sam was talking soft, and Dean didn't like it one bit. He didn't want to be talked to like some pet. He listened anyway though.
"He's...hurt, but he's okay, I took care of some his injuries while he was sleeping...he brought you in with him...Did the witch do this to you?"
Dean took in the question and nodded, before Sam asked if he was hurt and he thought about it before he shook his head. And then he wanted to know if the witch was dead. That was a big no, but it was more complicated than that, because there had been another witch out of friggen nowhere and that one was dead. He hoped. Not exactly... Dean couldn't do much else besides watch as Sam moved closer, and he didn't like that hesitant look on Sam's face. He was gonna do something stupid, Dean could feel it. And moreover, Sam closed the distance and looked like even more of a giant, which didn't sit right with him one bit.
"I must seem kinda big right now, huh?"
Dean just stared at him.
But then Sam was trying to pet him and that was not cool. I'm not a dog, dude! Lay off, hey, I said- But it felt kind of good, and though he wouldn't admit it, his little brother's proximity was comforting. It was the only thing that made sense or felt right at the moment, his little brother being there with him, recognizing him, just...being his brother despite this whole messed up situation.
"Whatever this is, Dean...we'll find a way to fix it...I bet Dad'll know what to do."
Hn.
Sam stroked his ears and Dean shivered as an electric little feeling ran down his spine. His ears were hyper-sensitive or something, and he didn't like that one little bit. Sam wasn't deterred though, and kept on petting him, which Dean allowed just because-ah-it comforted Sam.
Not because he liked the feeling, and had the oddest urge to curl up against Sam and let him comfort him.
Not at all.
That being said, Dean did shift his head a little closer to Sam's leg, so that his nose was touching the other's pants lightly. He didn't look up at Sam, but he could practically feel the kid's sympathetic expression as he ruffled Dean's furry head lightly.
"We'll fix this, Dean." Sam whispered, and Dean had to wonder who he was trying to convince with that weak statement. Dean, or himself?
Damn straight. Dean said, or rather, growled softly anyway, because there was no way Dean Winchester was spending the rest of his life as a dog.
No. Freakin'. Way.
...
Present Day
Dean had no idea what was going on. He had no idea what the Hell was going on. The last thing he remembered was cradling a bottle when he'd started feeling like Hell warmed over and then he'd woken up stuck in something and then...this. Nasty-ass headache aside, the sensation of all kinds of smells and weird sounds assaulting him, it was what he was seeing that had his skin crawling and his body tensed.
Dean was staring up at his little brother, and that wasn't the weirdest thing, because he was used to that by now. No, it had more to do with the fact that he was craning his neck to look up at the other...and everything else in the room, oh, that and that everything was in frigging black and white. Sammy? Dean tried to speak, but his mouth felt funny and his tongue was kind of lagging. He felt his teeth gnash together in an unfamiliar way and he tried to look down at himself to get a better idea of what was going on. And then he felt horror rise up in his throat as furry, stumpy legs and a tail greeted him.
And it just kind of went all to Hell from there.
A wail pushed past his awkward mouth, unbidden by himself, as he began a sort of spasmodic bit of flailing and trying to right himself. But the best that he could do was to sort of roll around until he was shakily able to get himself up on all...four legs. Dean's body trembled as he stared wide-eyed down at the way-too-close ground and he heard the rustling of clothes as Sam, beside him, moved and pinned him to the ground by his neck.
Dean let out a snarl unintentionally, and squirmed as he tried to shove away.
...
Sam, similarly, was lacking in applicable knowledge in the 'what the Hell was going on' department. All he knew was that, one moment, he was staring down at a dog with Dean's eyes and the next minute, the dog was having some kind of spaz attack. The dog seemed to settle a bit when it got up on all fours, but by then, Sam's hunter instincts had kicked in and the natural conclusion that this dog was not only odd, but possibly some kind of threat.
Sam clamped a hand around the dog's scrawny neck and pinned him down. The dog didn't take kindly to that, and squirmed right up until Sam withdrew a knife from his back pocket and brought it into the dog's line of view. Sure enough, the dog's eyes seemed to widen and flicked to Sam as the dog stopped moving.
"I get the feeling you can understand what I'm saying, clearly you know what a knife is. So you'd better find a way to tell me what happened to my brother, fast." Sam tilted the threateningly.
I am your brother, damnit! And what do you expect me to do? Sign-language?
The dog began a frenzied bit of snarling and he tightened his grip on it's neck. The dog made a choked noise and then glared up at Sam in a way that was way too familiar for his liking.
Sam had given the idea that the dog was somehow Dean some thought, but there was no way. He'd never heard of that kind of transformation, not unless you counted really far-fetched things. Like Circe, the man-hating sorceress of Greek mythology or something similar. Then again, having nearly been torn to shred by a pack of deities, and worn to prom by Lucifer himself, he couldn't really rule anything out.
But there was just no way.
It didn't even make sense. Out of the blue, out of nowhere, Dean just gets transformed? They had finished their hunt, it was time to move on, there was no sign of witches or deities, or anything in-between.
And moreover, he didn't want to believe it, because that was way too much more than he could deal with right now.
"Sucks to be you, doesn't it? You ran away with-pardon the pun-your tail between your legs and now your brother is gone. Or a dog, hard to say, isn't it? He's a lot like a dog, so there's not much difference. Unfailingly loyal. Stupid. Barks on command. Constantly in heat. Need I go on?"
Sam gritted his teeth and unintentionally tightened his grip on the dog's neck as Lucifer taunted him. "Shut up." he muttered, and the dog in his grasp tilted his head slightly as he watched Sam carefully.
"He really is like a dog. I mean, how many times have you kicked the bastard when he was down, only to have him take you back with his proverbial tail wagging?" Lucifer chuckled. "And he calls you a bitch."
"Shut up!" Sam hissed, his stress entirely to piqued to be playing this game right now. Without preamble, he jerked his hand away from the dog to ram his thumbnail into the wound on his palm. A wound that was healing not nearly as well as it should have, thanks to his consistent prodding.
"Poor little Sam." Lucifer's lips were closer to his ear as he set a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a painful squeeze. He flickered in and out, but still hadn't disappeared completely. "How long do you think poking at your little cut is going to keep me out? Come on, kiddo. You know better than that. Especially without big brother being around to hold your bloody little hand." Lucifer taunted.
Sam closed his eyes tight, panic and desperation at war within him as he dug his finger in harder and willed Lucifer away. He didn't have time for this, he should just ignore the other at least, but he was too worried, too out of sorts to do so easily. And Lucifer's words rang a little too true, didn't they? Hit a little too close to home? Sam had walked out on Dean, again, but Dean hadn't hesitated to trust that Sam would come for him when he needed it. And that was the kind of trust that Dean just didn't put in others, Hell, he probably wouldn't ask for help from anyone else save Bobby.
His hands had fallen to his lap, but he could tell that Lucifer wasn't gone because he could hear him chuckling. Damni-
His own thoughts were interrupted by the sudden, small weight against his leg and a low growl. Sam opened his eyes to find a pair of green eyes staring up at him with a familiar concern and ferocity that seemed all the more open at the moment.
Sammy! Hey! Snap out of it, man!
The dog had placed a small paw on Sam's leg and pushed at it, and it seemed to take a lot of effort for the dog not to fall over. His small body was still shaking and unused to itself. The dog gave another low growl as he jerked his snout forward to shove it against Sam's bleeding hand with a low whine.
How many times I gotta tell you? You're gonna tear your friggen hand apart!
Sam stared down at the dog with his insistent growling, those familiar eyes, and gestures way too obvious to be mistaken. He was worried. He seemed upset, concerned, and he didn't like Sam hurting himself-even though Sam had just about choked the little guy only moments ago.
It was way too weird, but wasn't he the one that had only those moments ago been having a conversation with an imaginary fallen angel?
"Dean?"
The dog's ears perked and he smacked his paw against Sam's leg as if in affirmative before he flopped onto his belly with a frustrated huff. It was almost comical, except that it pretty much confirmed that it was his big, pain-in-the-ass, brother trapped inside that furry form.
And that was anything but comical.
Sam stared down at the green-eyed dog gazing up at him with alert, intelligent, and as stated over in over in his mind-familiar eyes. Eyes he knew. His brother's eyes.
Dean had been in pain, he'd been in ungodly, painful, wrenching pain. The door had been shut and nothing looked overly disturbed besides the lamp that Dean had presumably knocked down. The dog's breath even smelled of whiskey, a little bit, and he'd been in Dean's clothes. And then there was that firm, Dean-attitude as the dog tried to get him to stop hurting himself. Lastly, sure enough, the dog had dispelled Lucifer, Dean was the one person who could do it just like that, not even Bobby had been able to.
"It's really you." Sam whispered, more to himself than anything else, but Dean seemed to have heard and he rallied off a series of growls, the occasional bark, and a low whine.
Sam's head was already splitting, the pain in his hand throbbing, and all the stress and tension built up in him were swirling around in internal turmoil. The noise was not helping. Sam slid his not-injured hand forward and gently clamped it around the dog's-Dean's-mouth to silence him. "Calm down, man. I can't understand you. It's just a bunch of dog noises."
Whatever confidence Dean had garnered at Sam apparently recognizing him deflated with those words and his ears fell a bit and his tail curled slightly, all of which he supposed were unconscious gestures, the dog's body reacting to Dean's emotional state.
Dean had been, if not at excited, at least relieved at first that Sam had recognized him. After the whole-threatening him like an idiot-bit. But when Sam closed his mouth and explained that he couldn't understand...that just blew that all to shit. Reality hit home. He was a dog, a furry ass little dog, and Sam couldn't understand him. Dean was trapped, isolated, and seeing in black and freaking white. Could it possibly get any worse?
"Do you know how this happened?" Sam's voice, although concerned, was also decidedly business-like. It wasn't that Sam wasn't worried, because he was, and it wasn't that he wasn't freaked out and a bit panicky himself, because he definitely was. But the priority right now was to stay calm and find a way to fix Dean, and that started with figuring out what had happened.
At the question, Dean reflected that-yes-it could get worse.
Because he had no idea how in the Hell this had happened.
Dean gave a little shake of his head, it wasn't like he could do much else, and Sam winced a little. "Well...are you okay?"
Dean stared up at Sam with a do-I-look-okay look, he could read his brother fairly well-even as a dog. In fact, it wasn't like a dog could put on much bravado, so this way...Dean was actually a little more open. He couldn't crack stupid jokes, or put up a front, and really-he couldn't even just walk away. Dean was small, helpless, and stuck, with a body that betrayed his every emotion, and Sam was the only thing he had at the moment. The realization was crushing even as it was a bit, oddly enough, exhilarating.
Dean needed him. He needed him.
And sure, Sam wasn't nearly ready to forgive him for Amy, or the lying, or his drunken, unbrotherly behavior but...he wasn't going to leave his brother in a lurch, either.
The brothers stared at each other for a long, silent moment before Sam reached his hand out towards Dean.
Dean tensed for two reasons. One, he didn't want to be touched, particularly as he was. Two. That big ass hand had just tried to choke-hold him, so he wasn't looking forward to round-two. He growled, but he really didn't look threatening, and even he knew it. I will bite you.
But Sam ignored him and put said 'big ass hand' on his head before he brought it under Dean's chin and tilted his head up towards him as he appeared to examine Dean a moment. His fur felt normal, soft-even, he was warm and breathing, clearly Dean's mind was in tact, and he didn't seem to be in pain.
Dean jerked his head away and growled. Take a picture, it'll last longer. And quit touching me, friggen pervert.
Sam could guess along the lines of his brother's response, but he didn't smile. For one thing, as stated, this situation was anything but comical and for another, not that was calming down a bit...his bitterness over Amy was resurfacing, at least a little. He was going to help Dean, he'd do anything he had to, but that didn't make things okay between them. Not by a long shot.
Still...Dean's body was still shaking slightly, his ears and tail were drooped, and he seemed to be having trouble meeting Sam's eyes. He was trapped in a body that not only was not his own, but was everything a hunter would despise being. Dean probably thought of himself as weak at the moment, useless, and he no doubt hated it. Sam could sympathize, and moreoever, he wanted to reassure his brother, comfort him.
He sighed as he sat with his back against the bed before he abruptly reached over and grabbed up Dean from the ground. Dean jerked and began a furious string of barks that he ignored as he set Dean on his lap and kept him there with a firm hand pressed down on his mid-section, and his free hand stroking Dean's head comfortingly.
H-Hey! Put me down! Son of a bitch, Sam, I will bite you! Damnit, Sam, stop! But he went unheeded as Sam easily picked him up and set him on his lap, and kept him held there. His squirming was to no avail, Sam's strength easily trumped his own and like it or not, he found himself with no alternative.
Dean glared balefully up at Sam, who he would swear seemed to be smirking faintly, was the bastard enjoying this? And if he was, would Dean maybe, slightly deserve it for lying to Sam's face? Then again, he'd done what he had to do: what Sam couldn't and wouldn't do. But instead of mocking him, Sam's free hand was gentle against him as Sam spoke quietly. "Whatever this is, we'll take care of it."
Some of the tension eased out of Dean's small form. Truth be told, some little part of him he didn't want to dwell on had actually been afraid that Sam might leave anyway. That he might say 'screw it' and leave Dean, because he'd done it before, but he was going to stay and help. And really, it didn't surprise him. No matter how pissed they got at each other, they were brothers.
So Dean lowered his head and stopped his fussing as he allowed Sam to stroke his fur-and for the moment-ignore the temptation to bite the bastard for treating Dean like a dog and just man-handling him.
Dean knew that Sam couldn't understand him, so he didn't think it would matter much when he leaned his head just slightly into Sam's touch and growled softly. Thanks, Sammy.
But from the way that Sam's lips quirked upwards, just faintly, and the way he brushed his thumb lightly against Dean's snout, he suspected that Sam, like the pain-in-the-ass little brother that he was, understood.
The bitch.
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Not every chapter will have Teen/Present, I don't think. Nor do I intend to often rewrite the same scene from both perspectives, usually I'll just mix them, like I did with this Presentchester scene. But occasionally flipping them seems effective too, so it might happen again. It just won't be the whole story or anything. XD Annd. I got no opinions on Cas from you all, so I suppose I'll assume I can do whatever comes to me. XD It was interesting to write the scenarios from the Teen/Present perspectives. The different reactions to basically the same situations, I dunno, I had fun. XD And there's Lucifer. Oh, my, goodness. And writing the dog actions, and poor Dean's body betraying him doggishly, and Sam reading Dean's eyes all little brother-awesome-like. XD Well, please do leave verbal hugs, and faves and alerts, and whatever else comes to mind because it brightens my soul and tempts me to post more quickly. XD [Hooray for this being my one day off-by the way] XD Means more writin' time! I digress, I adore you all endlessly! Lurve, Witchy~