#and anti isn’t the only demon possessing

[leobashi]

At this point I might just drop all the Ghost Hunted lore because I want to talk about it but I don’t have time or motivation to draw it all :,D

What do y’all think? Wanna ask about it and what I had planned for it?

[twicearoundthebend]

worstie wolverine backstory thoughtssss

What if it wasn’t a group of anti mutants that stormed the mansion - what if it was weapon x coming specifically to take Logan back

I’m going to ramble and I’m not fact checking so like - ramble back and correct me if you want

Logan had fucked off to get drunk again. Scott had pleaded as he left, but it was getting easier and easier to tune his voice out. Logan didn’t want a family, he didn’t want to be a guard dog, he wanted to be left alone. The cold of the bar was comforting, familiar - much more familiar than the warmth of the x mansion. He’d settled down to numb his brain till his thoughts froze over, but didn’t reach that point.

Instead, a news broadcast started. The reporter said it was a ‘mutant hate group’ and looking at the carnage he didn’t blame her, but she was wrong. Those uniforms, those faces, he knew them. He’d escaped them, he thought he’d destroyed them, but here they were murdering the people who’d taken him in.

Weapon X.

-

He’d ran to the mansion. Heart in his throat and lungs burning, but he was too late. The x-men were all dead, and the group of scientists and soldiers had left the scene. He’d left them, they’d pleaded for him to stay, and he’d left them to get attacked by his own demons.

He searched through all the bodies, checked over and over for signs of life, but there was nothing. Just vacant stares and still pulses.

A few hours in, he heard a wheeze. He whipped around, scanning, hoping beyond all hope, only for his eyes to land on a Weapon X soldier with vines growing through his chest.

Within a second he was looming over the soldier, ready to do anything for information. But he didn’t even get the satisfaction of torturing the information out of him. The soldier spat the truth out at him, gloating at his pain.

Weapon X had come to the mansion to retrieve Logan. To take him back to be studied, torn apart and put back together over and over again. To take his DNA and turn it into anything they set their minds to. They’d tracked him here, but when they broke through the doors he was nowhere to be found. They hadn’t planned to kill the x-men, but when no one would reveal any information about Logan, they tried to torture the information out. None would give anything up.

“After we’d asked such incriminating questions, they had to die. Can’t have any loose ends, can we? You’re a top secret weapon, Wolverine, and one we desperately want back in our possession.” The soldier managed to sneer around his pain, still looking at Logan like he was less than human. “Death of filth like them isn’t death, it’s mercy.” His face contorted, and before Logan could lop his head off, his eyes went hazy, and his breath stopped.

They had been here for him. They’d murdered the x-men for protecting him. Their last breaths had been spent fighting for him, while he’d been getting pissed. Broken bodies all around him - he couldn’t find anything inside of him besides overwhelming guilt.

[hawkins-archive]

A Nightmare Far Worse - Chapter One

The Exorcism of Chrissy Cunningham

FANDOM: Stranger Things

RATING: T

SHIP: Eventual Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hints of eventual Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson/Chrissy Cunningham

SUMMARY: Eddie Munson witnesses a demonic possession in his trailer. Luckily someone swoops in to help. (Supernatural inspired AU, Hunter!Eddie, Angel!Steve, Newbie Hunter!Chrissy)

NOTES: This is the result of the Supernatural-inspired AU with Hunter!Eddie and Angel!Steve I'd been tinkering with! I had intended for this to be just Steve/Eddie; Chrissy snuck into the ship during the writing process. If that's a dealbreaker for you, please move along.

___________________________

“…Chrissy?”

Eddie stops in the hallway with the Special K, staring at Chrissy standing frozen and unresponsive in the middle of the trailer’s living room. She blinks furiously, her eyes rolled back so far only the whites are showing.

Oh God. Is she having a seizure? 

He walks towards her, waving a hand in front of her face. “Chrissss-yyy. Hello?” No response. He waves his hand again, and then shouts, “Chrissy!” as he jumps forward.

Nothing. Just more blinking. She’s still standing, arms at her sides. Eddie looks up as every single light in the trailer start flickering and buzzing.

This isn’t a seizure. Eddie’s not sure exactly what’s happening to Chrissy but it’s not a seizure or an OD or a concussion or anything normal. Unfortunately, this has the Munsons' kind of weirdness stamped all over it. 

Fuckity fuck fuck. Is she possessed? Eddie’s severely out of practice since Wayne didn’t take him on the road for his hunts like Al had.

Dropping the Special K, Eddie turns around and starts frantically pawing through the cabinet next to the oven for Wayne’s Hunter box. He finally unearths it from a pile of paper bags and old newspapers and nearly throws it onto the kitchen counter.

The lock on the box is a combination one, set to Eddie’s birthday. His hand is trembling as he turns the wheel, yanking it off as soon as the lock pops open.

Inside are some of Wayne’s monster-hunting supplies: a handgun with ammo, particularly silver bullets, an assortment of knives, a few gris-gris bags, two wooden stakes, Eddie’s mom’s rosary, Wayne’s hunting journal, and a few vials of holy water.

He grabs one of the vials of holy water and Wayne’s journal. Eddie’s never done an exorcism before - even Al had the good sense to keep him away from the possession cases, although like all the Munsons he has the anti-possession tattoo on his chest. The closest Eddie has to experience with anything like this was watching ‘The Exorcist’ with Wayne. Hopefully the exorcism will still work even if the Latin pronunciation’s a little off.

He yanks the cork stopper out of the vial. First he’s gotta make sure it is possession.

Eddie approaches Chrissy warily with the vial, Wayne’s journal tucked under one arm. He takes Chrissy’s limp hand and raises it, palm-up. “Sorry, Chrissy. I think this is gonna hurt a little.” Grimacing, he pours some of the holy water onto her hand.

Chrissy screams, guttural and loud, but her face remains perfect blank. She wrenches her hand out of Eddie’s grip, steam rising from her skin.

She’s definitely possessed.

“Shit.” Eddie hurriedly flips through Wayne’s journal and almost sobs in relief when he finds the page with “EXORCISM (short)” scrawled across the top in his uncle’s messy handwriting.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” Eddie says, trying to steady his trembling voice.

Chrissy screams again, her face blank. Without warning, her body goes flying up. The whole trailer shakes from the impact of her body slamming against the ceiling, pinned against it with her arms outstretched.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Eddie trips over a chair behind him and falls on his ass, still clutching the journal. 

The journal, right. He can’t get distracted. He has to say the whole spiel or it won’t work. He tears his eyes away from Chrissy pressed against the trailer’s ceiling and back to Wayne’s journal. “Om--omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

Chrissy’s jaw opens wide, and inside her mouth is a writhing mass thick, black smoke. Tendrils of smoke coils around her face as she thrashes on the ceiling, her eyelids still fluttering. But it’s not coming out. Isn’t the demons supposed to come out of her during the exorcism? That’s the whole point! Shit, is he doing it wrong? Is some demon going to steal Chrissy’s body because Eddie's such a fuck-up he can’t pronounce Latin correctly?

Thunder rumbles overhead, shaking the trailer’s roof.

The door to the trailer loudly snaps open by itself, and Eddie is jarred out of his downward spiral by the sight of Steve Harrington, of all people, standing out on the trailer’s porch.

Eddie lets out a thin whine when he notices that Steve’s eyes are burning gold, the brightest thing in the whole trailer with the lights still bugging out. He really can’t take any more weird shit right now, not when Chrissy’s still pinned up against the ceiling with a demon inside her that won’t come out…

Steve steps into the trailer calmly, his molten-gold eyes fixed on Chrissy. Eddie flinches when the light bulbs in the trailer near the door explode in a shower of sparks one by one around Steve.

“Ergo, draco maledicte,” Steve says, his voice steady.

Latin? Eddie looks down at the journal, realizing Steve has spoken the next line of the exorcism. Eddie wets his lips nervously and croaks out the last lines together with Steve. “Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.”

The demon-smoke is finally yanked out of Chrissy’s mouth and pulled down, sinking through the floor of the trailer like water being sucked down a drain. Eddie’s heart feels like it’s about to shake itself loose from his chest.

Chrissy stares at Steve and Eddie with confusion in her blue eyes from the ceiling before she plummets down, sprawling on top of Eddie. She bursts into tears, latching onto him, burying her head against his chest. The lights that haven’t exploded finally stop flickering.

“Chrissy! Oh, shit, are you hurt?”

Chrissy keeps crying, her mascara running down her cheeks, but she gives a short little shake of her head. “I-I’m fine.” She sniffs again. “I mean, apart from the…thing that was inside me? The evil smoke cloud?”

“That was a demon,” Steve says.

Eddie looks up at Steve. His eyes are still shining gold, which is surprisingly creepy with him just standing in the dark area in front of the door, surrounded by the glass from the bulbs.

“It was like it was trying to…to…stuff me into a little box in my head.” Chrissy looks at Eddie, then at Steve, her bottom lip quivering. “Why did it…w-want me?”

That was a very good question. “Because a demon needs a human meatsuit when it’s outside Hell and you were there,” Eddie says. “I didn’t show you my very first tattoo – it’s an anti-possession symbol. Wards off demons.”

“How do you guys know-w about all this?” Chrissy whispers, her eyes flicking between Steve and Eddie. “Like, the exorcism and everything.” She looks down at the Hellfire Club logo on his shirt. “Is the heavy metal stuff?”

Eddie shakes his head. “My uncle and my parents are Hunters.” He pauses, realizing that needs more explanation. “I mean, they hunt monsters and demons that hurt people, not deer and rabbits.” He eyes Steve. “I know all the Hunters in town, and the Harringtons definitely aren’t Hunters.”

The thunder rolls overhead again, louder. 

“So what are you, Steve?” Eddie holds Chrissy tightly as she shakes against him. If anyone in Hawkins was going to turn out to be a secret monster in disguise, it probably would be one of the Harringtons.

“I’m an angel,” Steve says, eyes still shining like a beacon. 

“Bullshit,” is Eddie’s immediate response, slipping out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

Lightning strikes. In-between flashes of light, Eddie can make out the shadow of large, feathered wings extending from Steve’s back, like an afterimage. Beautiful but terrifying.

Chrissy gasps.

“I’m an angel,” Steve repeats as the golden light in his eyes finally dims, returning his eyes to normal. He rubs at the side of his face before placing his hands on his hips. “And this is a fucking mess.”

[aylacavebear]

Dimensional Shift - Chapter 7 S4E3-6

Story Summary: Maria was just a regular girl, worked at a gas station, wrote fanfic, and loved Supernatural. She even created her own supernatural creature for her writings. When the aurora borealis comes to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, one Halloween night, everything changes for her in ways she never expected. Will she be able to navigate this new world she's thrown into?

Word Count: 3688

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Angst, some Fluff/Comfort, Alcoholism.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7 - S4E3-E6

(Sep. 20/08 - Oct. 28/08)

Maria stayed out of the next case, knowing that this would be when Castiel would come to Dean in his dreams and then send him back in time to see what happened between his mother and the yellow-eyed demon Azazel.

After which Dean would be confronting Sam about being on demon blood and working with Ruby. Then they’d have a Rurguru case, which was when Sam would choose to stop drinking the demon blood all on his own. She also had no desire to watch Dean flirt shamelessly with the waitress when they’d deal with the shapeshifter at the Oktoberfest.

She told the boys to be safe and that they could handle it, but if they needed anything, she and Bobby were there and only a phone call away. After the boys left, Maria filled Bobby in, swearing him to secrecy because, in her words, “This needed to happen a specific way.” Bobby wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed. 

“Kid, they should know more than what you’ve told ‘em,” Bobby sighed after she explained some things.

“I can’t risk changing too much, though. I know they both miss her, and I don’t know another way to bring her back,” Maria practically mumbled.

“But do they really need to go through all that crap?” he asked, not completely sure how it all fit together.

She sighed, staring at the coffee table, “Over the time that passes, the two of them learn things on their own and it helps their bond eventually get stronger. Those two would do anything for each other. Even Cas ends up being family, but he does some stupid shit too.”

Bobby sipped his whiskey as he eyed Maria momentarily, concern etched into the lines of his weathered face, “How are you holding up?”

She shifted in her seat, her gaze flickering to the floor before meeting Bobby’s eyes, “Honestly, it’s both weird and cool, being here. I fell in love with all of the show's characters. It’s why I wrote fanfic. I just never thought I’d actually end up here,” she chuckled dryly, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a mix of sympathy and understanding, “Just know, I still see you like my daughter. You can talk to me about anything,” he tried to reassure her.

“I know, and I appreciate it. I just don’t know how to act around the boys sometimes,” Maria sighed.

Bobby chuckled, “Well, the you from here has had a crush on Dean since she was about thirteen. Swore me to secrecy back then. I’m gonna guess you probably have more than a crush.”

Her cheeks warmed as a deep blush appeared, and she was thankful neither of the brothers was there, “Yeah, that would go over really well. The girl from another dimension is in love with what used to be a fictional character in her world,” she said fairly sarcastically, then sighed and looked back down at the table. “He’d laugh at me.”

Bobby sighed, not quite sure how to say what he was thinking about, “You could always just be blunt about it. Don’t live with regrets, kid.”

She knew exactly what he meant. Bobby had regrets, most of them having to do with his deceased wife and choosing never to have kids himself. He’d broken her heart and then had to kill her three days later due to her getting possessed by a demon. She debated telling him he should get an anti-possession tattoo, but that would have changed far too much. 

“Dean isn’t the kind to settle down, Bobby. He likes his “freedom”,” she replied, rolling her eyes and putting the word freedom in air quotes.

He eyed you for a minute before he continued, “He may be an idjit, but he has a good heart. I think he might surprise you if you were honest with him.” After sipping his whiskey, he realized something, “Is that why you didn’t go with them?”

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with him, “You try to watch someone you love flirt with every girl but you. Can we talk about something else, please?”

Bobby sighed, deciding he’d try to figure out a way to help her, but kept that to himself for now. “Then, while you’re here and not on a case with those two, you’ll train. That way, I don’t have to worry ‘bout you so much when you do go out with them.”

“Thanks,” she replied, giving him a thankful smile.

During that month, she spent a lot of time practicing movements, using her Touched abilities to get the hang of them better. It was the training she needed to reacquaint herself with what the character from her fanfic had been doing since her powers manifested. One thing she was having the hardest time with was feeling so alone. 

She was a fangirl and had been for over a year, and now she was in her favorite show with a fictional character she’d gone and fallen in love with. She also figured this entire situation had to be weird for all three of them.

When she slept, memories of “her past here” played through her mind, and she began missing the man who was her father here. She also got memories of the times she had hung out with the brothers, Bobby, and even with John. 

Bobby made sure to reacquaint her with how to shoot a gun. Her body knew what it was doing, but she had to grasp the feeling of it when she pulled the trigger. Each gun felt different. She didn’t want to be afraid of them, so she managed to stay serious while Bobby taught her.

Castiel couldn’t infiltrate Maria’s dreams due to her being a Touched and having the protection of Bastet by a birthmark or, more, a brand of a small, one-inch black cat mark on the back of her left shoulder. Most monsters couldn’t use their energy powers on her due to that. It did depend on how powerful they were. Of course, she wasn’t invulnerable. 

When Dean got Ghost Sickness, Sam called Bobby in for some help, so Maria tagged along. She stayed in the motel room with Dean while Bobby went to help Sam. Dean didn’t have long left, a couple of hours if he was lucky, and the hallucinations were bad at this point. Maria did her best to keep him distracted but couldn’t when the sheriff showed up, worse off than Dean was. 

Maria’s blood could only heal so much, and this was not one of those things. Even though she tried, cutting her finger and dripping blood into Dean’s wound that he had scratched into his arm, sadly, it had no effect. All she could do was hold him as he held his chest, gripping where his heart was. She knew he wasn’t meant to die here, but being a part of this was hard for her, far harder than watching it on the show.

“Bobby and Sam will fix this, I promise,” she tried to tell him, even if he was in too much pain to hear her.

Then, out of the blue, he was fine, and Maria let out a sigh of relief. The blood she had dripped into his wound now healed his injuries fairly quickly. Dean looked up at her, slightly confused as to why she was holding him. He got to his feet and then helped Maria to hers.

“Thanks for trying at least,” he told her with that smile smirk of his.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least try?” she replied, smiling more with one side of her lips than the other, not quite a smirk though.

This was the first time the two of them had been alone since she had arrived in their world. Dean was relaxed as he headed over to the fridge, grabbing himself a beer and chuckling slightly. Maria, on the other hand, felt nervous and anxious around him. Keeping her composure took quite a lot, but Dean noticed the smile she couldn’t completely hide, as well as the emotions in her eyes.

“Well, I appreciate it,” he finally told her before he took a drink.

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as she went over and sat on the edge of the bed. Her nerves felt as though they were on edge. Maria knew there was more to Dean than just his outer appearance. But dear God, that outer appearance was something she’d fantasized over on numerous occasions. 

He was the epitome of rugged charm. With broad shoulders and a sturdy build, he exuded an aura of strength and confidence that drew people in effortlessly. Along his chiseled jawline was two-day-old scruff since he hadn’t bothered to shave, accentuating his rugged good looks. Then, there were his piercing green eyes. They held a hint of mischief, always ready with a smirk or a cocky grin that sent hearts racing.

Dean had the most expressive eyebrows that could convey a range of emotions, from determination to vulnerability. He moved with a relaxed, self-assured swagger, every step exuding a magnetic charisma that made it impossible not to be captivated by. From his leather jacket from his father to the worn-out boots, he was the embodiment of any girl's wet dream.

“Want a beer, Sweetheart,” he asked, that damned smirk plastered on his lips again.

“I’d say sure, but beer doesn’t do anything. It’d kinda be a waste to drink it,” she chuckled, hoping he hadn’t noticed the blush that had crept into her cheeks. She also hoped he hadn’t caught her staring at him, again.

He chuckled, “I’d offer you whiskey, but I don’t have any here. We can get some at the store down the block if you want.”

She tilted her head slightly, wondering if he had something else on his mind, but was too nervous to ask at the moment. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure Bobby and Sam will be back soon.”

Dean leaned against the counter, sipping his beer, occasionally looking over at her, but hadn’t said anything. She could tell he was in his head, lost in his thoughts while still paying attention to everything. It was moments like this that his personality captivated her. He had the kindest heart and the sharpest tongue that cut with a pain that was capable of pushing someone away forever. Just as their eyes locked, Sam walked through the motel room door.

“You two okay?” he asked, concerned for his brother still.

“Yup. Hunky-dory,” Dean replied, sporting that playful smirk of his again.

Then, the three of them drove back out to the factory. Maria had been lost in her thoughts on the drive. Dean kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, which his brother did notice, but neither of them said anything to her. They met back up with Bobby, and after Dean parked, he pulled four beers out of the green cooler, but Bobby declined. Maria leaned on the trunk of the Impala, thinking about the events that were about to play out soon when Sam pulled her from her thoughts.

“So, Maria, you comin' with us, or heading back with Bobby?” Sam asked, glancing over at her.

“I could do either, but it’d probably be more fun going with the two of you,” she chuckled playfully.

Dean raised an eyebrow, as did Bobby, “Bobby can’t be that boring,” Dean stated, that smile smirk on his face again, which made Maria roll her eyes, but in a playful way.

“Well, if I’m gonna be here, in this world, I might as well get to hunting,” she told him. 

The week she’d spent at Bobby’s while Dean and Sam were working out their issues, she had begun practicing with her abilities, feeling how her body had moved. It was almost muscle memory for her, which she found only slightly odd. 

She had also been having more dreams that consisted of memories of her life in this world, things that her character may have dreamt about in her fanfic. Maria was done questioning going back or even attempting to find a way back. 

She’d already decided she was going to stay, and no one was going to change her mind on the matter. This whole thing reminded her of a few different anime shows she had watched where a player got sucked into the game they had been playing.

Maria’s words made Dean chuckle, “Alright, Sweetheart, but you’re in the back seat.” 

She rolled her eyes before grabbing her bag from Bobby’s back seat and putting it in the Impala’s trunk. Then she hugged Bobby, promising to check in with him while she was out with the boys. Maria had gotten better about Dean’s scent not affecting her as badly as it had in the beginning. 

Her main reason for going with them was because she wanted to see the angels, knowing they were going to show up. She’d already told Bobby about the seals that were being broken, telling him what books were going to be the most helpful. Maria had also gotten more confident over that week, smiling as she walked over to Dean and Sam.

“Ready when you two are,” she told them with a smile before climbing in the back seat of the Impala, getting comfortable in the middle. 

Dean, Sam, and Bobby looked at each other, all exchanging looks while signing to each other.

Bobby: Keep an eye on her. I don’t know if she’s really ready for this yet.

Sam: We will, and we know. She seems eager, though.

Bobby: She’s been training the whole time the two of you were gone.

Dean: Really?

Bobby: Yeah, really. Just watch her. I worry.

Dean: She’s family Bobby, and our old Maria was a damn good hunter. We’ll keep an eye on her, we promise.

Sam: Yeah, Bobby, we promise.

They said their farewells before Bobby got in his car and drove off. Sam and Dean exchanged another look before they got in the Impala. She knew they had just over a week before Sam would find the next case. This was one of those timeframes the show hadn’t added for the fans to watch. She was curious as to what the two would end up doing.

She stared out the window at first, just watching the scenery pass by while Dean drove. Her mind wandered again, thinking about the future events and how pissed he was going to end up being with her.

“So, since you know the future, Sweetheart, what’s our next case?” Dean teased her playfully, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

Maria rolled her eyes, “You’ve got roughly ten days before the next one comes up.”

“Didn’t answer my question,” he sighed.

She clenched her jaw, still looking out the window, “It’s in Red Wing, Minnesota, okay? But nothing is gonna show up for a case till around the twenty-ninth.”

Sometimes, she hated her memory. She’d done so much research in her world on locations that weren’t easily found when it came to towns that weren’t listed on regular fan sites. This had been one of those that took far more research than she was willing to admit, putting together bits and pieces of information and asking numerous other fans on several chat sites.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dean smirked, feeling accomplished that he got something out of her.

“So, what are we gonna do for just over a week?” Sam thought out loud.

They normally didn’t have time to themselves, and now they knew they had a week off of hunting monsters or dealing with a case. Maria was pretty sure what Dean would want to do, and she didn’t want to think about it.

“Well, I say we go find a nice small town near there, get a couple motel rooms, and relax,” Dean said happily.

As long as my room is on the other side of the building entirely, Maria thought to herself.

“Sure. It’s been a long while since we’ve had time to relax and do nothing,” Sam chuckled, looking forward to it now, too.

The drive wasn’t horribly long, just under half a day, but they got in sometime near three in the morning. When the brothers went in to get a couple of rooms, she followed them after grabbing her bag. Dean wanted her room next to theirs, but she asked for one as far away from theirs as possible, making sure it had two beds. She had a feeling Sam wasn’t going to want to spend much time in the room with Dean or would end up getting kicked out due to Dean needing some private time.

“What was that all about, Sweetheart?” Dean asked, trying to catch up with her, “Don’t want to share a room with me now?”

She rolled her eyes, “I know what “relaxing” means to you, and I’d prefer not to hear it.”

He smirked, which Sam saw, and he shook his head, knowing his brother was an idiot, having no clue why she really didn’t want to be near his room.

“Oh, and Sam, you’re welcome to bunk in my room, when Dean picks brings a chick back,” she added, making her way to her room on the far side of the motel building.

“Thanks,” Sam chuckled as he and Dean headed to their room.

Maria locked her door behind her before tossing her bag on the bed, grabbing some fresh clothes, and taking a shower. It wasn’t the best water pressure, but it did the job. She threw her hair up in a ponytail and went to the closest corner store, purchasing five bottles of whiskey. Her excuse to the cashier was that she was hosting a party, which he bought.

She hadn’t planned on drinking that night. She just wanted it on hand for the next day. So, when she got back, she tucked it away and out of sight, then crawled into bed. Her dreams were again of memories of this world and her character's past, things she’d never added to her fanfic.

It was a long week for her, and she mostly hid from Dean more than anything. Sam spent several nights out of the week in her room on the other bed, as Dean had done exactly what she knew he would. 

“How long are you gonna not tell him how you feel?” Sam asked on the next to last day.

“He’d laugh at me, Sam. I mean, seriously. A girl from a world where he’s just a fictional character, and my dumb ass had to go and fall in love with him,” she retorted with a humorless chuckle.

“He might take it as a compliment?” he replied, raising an eyebrow

“He’s also not the settling down type. He likes his freedom. Then there's the way he always worries about losing those he cares about most. That somehow being close to him puts them in danger,” she sighed, then groaned, “He’s so stupid in that though. Any person he’s helped is in danger if a monster wanted to get to him.”

“Looks like you know him pretty well,” Sam chuckled, realizing that just because she looked like “their” Maria, she was very different, in all the best ways.

She rubbed her face with her hands, mildly frustrated, “He’d think it was creepy. I could probably tell him what he was thinking most of the time.”

“Not sure I’d want to know what he was thinking most of the time,” he laughed.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t know,” she sighed.

The alcohol was long gone at this point, and she knew they’d be heading out the following day for the next case. She again offered the other bed to Sam for the night in case Dean picked up yet another girl at the bar he’d been spending far too much time in, at least in her opinion. He did take her up on that offer when he saw Dean’s car gone, yet again, around dinner time.

Maria and Sam had pizza for dinner while watching a movie when they heard the Impala pull up at the motel. She didn’t even need to look out the window to know he had another girl with him. She could hear the woman giggling after the car doors closed.

“You’re only torturing yourself,” Sam sighed, hating seeing her sad like she was now.

“Not like I can just turn off my hearing,” she grumbled, turning up the TV.

She barely slept that night, unable to get him out of her head, so the following day, she looked as tired as she felt when she and Sam joined Dean at the Impala. Dean just watched her, attempting to read her expression, body language, and what she wasn’t saying.

“Never saw you at the bar. You into Sam now?” Dean asked, leaning against the driver’s door.

“He’s like a brother to me, and I’m not into family like that,” she snapped, not looking at him.

“Geeze, Sweetheart. Sounds like you just need to get laid,” he teased.

“Dude? Seriously?” Sam questioned him from the opposite side of the car.

“What?” he asked, acting innocent before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Maria ignored him on the drive, sitting behind Sam and keeping her gaze out the window. She was still fighting with herself on how to handle future events and deal with the man she loved, having no clue how she felt toward him. Knowing him the way she did, she knew how he was going to react to numerous things, especially since if she shared the information, he’d stop it. Her only thought was that she wanted the brothers to have their mom in their life again, and one family dinner that they never got. The one day where their dad got pulled from the past, but that was a great many years from now.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8 - Coming Soon

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Tag List: @nancymcl

[scharfkugel]

Things that I like about Arcana Heart

Seeing discussion of any sort about Arcana Heart these days is extremely rare, particularly discussion that focuses on the cool/good things the series does.

Which is exactly why, now that I’ve been playing AH a lot with a friend recently, I’d like to make this post talking about all the cool stuff I really like about this game! (Read more incoming because I’m gonna ramble)

Character designs

If you know anything about AH already, you probably know there’s a lot of real ‘misses’ when it comes to the character designs. If you don’t know what I mean, take a look at the whole roster and then you will. But those aside, here are the ones I really like!

Lieselotte Achenbach

A contract assassin on a quest to find her lost sister. She carries a suitcase that holds a possessed puppet with the memories and personality of her real sister.

Fiona Mayfield

A maid with a massive sword, massive gauntlets, and massive sabatons (not pictured). One unfortunate day, she became trapped in the realm of elementals and now only exists as a spirit in the real world. She’s trying to recover her true body and return to her friends.

Yoriko Yasuzumi

A normally shy and quiet girl who is overly-interested in the occult, she summoned the self-proclaimed ‘Demon Lord’ Michelangelo through an accident and now has to put up with his constant bickering and arguing that frequently gets the two of them into trouble.

Eko

A young girl with brilliant powers that let her bring anything she draws to life. She likes to play with her protective “brother”, and favourite drawing, Kazu.

The system mechanics are unlike anything else

AH uses the standard anime fighter A/B/C buttons set-up for attacks, but with two more unique buttons: Homing and Arcana (D and E). When choosing a character, you can then choose from a large list of various Arcanas that act somewhat like ‘assists’ in other fighting games do. Not only do they give you access to assist specials, they change the passive abilities of your character and change the properties of your E attacks (life drain, unblockable, projectile invuln, etc.) The amount of combinations given the huge roster is absolutely staggering and different combos can feel like playing a whole new character.

The homing button lets you fly into the air and start homing straight onto the enemy’s position like a missile. Different directions change your trajectory and timing, meaning the game is hugely focused around tech-chasing, mid-air fighting, and a powerful game of anti-airs and air unblockables. The vertical screen space in AH is absolutely staggeringly high to allow for all of this.

The uniqueness of character kits is absolutely bizarre

A lot of people say that games like Blazblue and Guilty Gear have such incredibly varied and unique kits that characters can feel like they’re playing different games to each other. AH is very much like this; it has some of the craziest kits I have ever seen a fighting game.

See above: Yoriko Yasuzumi has a move that has you input a pentagram on your stick which causes Michelangelo to cast a buff.

Angelia has a charge move that has you hold down any button, A/B/C, in order to start charging it. The longer you charge it, the better it gets. How long, you ask? To reach level 5, the strongest version of this move, you must charge the special for nearly the entire round. It then becomes a 12,000 damage unblockable drop kick.

I could go on for much longer with many more examples, but the game not being afraid to put absolutely insane mechanics in is exactly what makes learning AH so crazy and interesting.

So in short!

AH is crazy to learn, crazy to play, and I feel like I have a newfound appreciation for it after having given it a real shot with a friend. This isn’t a post recommending or telling you to play Arcana Heart, but if does so happen to do that, then go for it. Just keep in mind there’s no rollback netcode!

[mimihorrorsworld]

Sona for @wouldyoustayvn , Maria Garsea! An astronomy lover who zapped to another dimension. Surprisingly, this isn’t the first time for them. While finding a way back home, will she stay with her new friend or be with her family again?

Here is a link for more deets on 𝙶𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚊! The templates belong to WYSVN! They’re open to interactions & questions. Trivia & Ship Template! ⬇️

🌙 Maria got an interest in stories from her Grandmother! Hearing them as bedtime stories, she got stuck with the knowledge.

🌙 They have hidden tattoos covered by clothing. The only two visible to the public is her Demon Anti-Possession on shoulder. The Leo Tattoo is on her side thigh.

🌙 She has Polisios from her mother’s side! It developed before turning 20.

🌙 They know of other dimensions. How? She had her first travel at 18! How? She’s still in the unknown how it happened.

🌙 If talking about shadows, she will avoid the topic. It’s an memory that’s locked away that lurks in her heart.

🌙 The earring used to be a necklace. It’s gold and third generation owner. Not once has it been taken off by her.

[anthonybialy]

Different Types of Indifferent Violence

Wondering what violence is may seem superfluous, especially when viewers can see all definitions in practice they’d like by choosing any random streaming service episode.  Everyone may be aware the term involves action that leads to something broken ranging from bones to furniture.  But noting just who and what is involved may offer a bit of context to everyone sick of bloodshed.  That’s almost everyone.

As always, liberalism is precisely inverted.  Flipping over life is not just limited to thinking government stimulates the economy: there’s a body count, as well.  The view that combat must be de-escalated disregards demons who keep taking it up.

The only way woke proselytizers could get more objectionable is by getting what they want.  Very tolerant adherents desire to give much of Israel to its lunatic attackers.  Meanwhile, they’re horrified by replying to said attacks on life itself.  If there’s a purer example of screwed-up thinking, they haven’t found it yet despite dedicated efforts.

Deranged leftists are furious at the measured response to getting in the way of Hamas rockets.  The terror squad didn’t kill more people only because they don’t possess the technology to fire missiles.  Anti-Semites think Israel must have denied it to them.

Targeting fiends who hide in hospitals might get messy.  It’s not that tricky to determine who’s responsible for those capable of reasoning and decency, which leaves out the left.  A nation attacked for the crime of minding its own business does everything they can to minimize casualties from those who try to maximize them.  Oh, and the latter slaughter innocents while the Middle East’s sole republic takes aim at perpetrators.  It can’t get clearer.

The most enlightened reiterate war is bad as they do all they can to keep it existing.  Armed battling is the poverty of international affairs.  Everyone feels bad about collateral damage while the levelheaded know it can never be eliminated.  Decreeing that it’s entirely possible to avoid innocent casualties is as oblivious as believing stores will stay open after shoplifting is legalized.  

Everything’s backward in the minds of those who led us there.  Classifying words as action epitomizes that charming totally incorrect manner of theirs.  Israel’s American enemies are particularly offended by noting obvious truths, as they run counter to their preciously-guarded narrative.  If Democrats truly oppose violence, they should keep cities from descending into live recreations of Batman movies before the titular character arrives.

Getting upset over nothing can get worse in what’s almost a feat.  Social justice warriors don’t wage war against actual injustice.  Sensible modern thinkers act like misgendering is an assault as they shrug away the Hamas branch of Planned Parenthood committing very late-term procedures.  Changing from a man into a woman is as real Gaza Strip residents who support peaceful coexistence.

Purveyors of laxity should ponder what would happen in Gaza to a man who decides he’s not one.  In America, we just stop drinking your appalling beer.  Language is violence while violence isn’t in these advanced times.  You may have noticed the outlook is exactly screwed up.  Unhinged zealotry may not be a sign of acceptance.

Principles can be applied at any level, unfortunately.  Academic dolts who perceive Hamas as freedom fighters also by pure coincidence treat criminality as the inevitable reaction to poverty.  Never mind that collectivism’s enthusiasts cause the very brokenness they condemn.  Struggling Americans who can’t afford crazy extravagances like items have compassionate confiscators to thank.

An unwillingness to differentiate between types of violence serves as a lame attempt to conceal moral cravenness.  Practitioners are cagey about if they really think they’re above it all or root for the villain.  A robber who shoots a victim and the cop who shoots back are engaging in precisely different types of violence that backers of defunding cops refuse to discern.  In fact, the person enforcing laws is treated as a racist oppressor by those who want the state to have absolute authority.  

Violence is indifferent.  Indifferently denouncing violence shows a lack of sophistication from alleged experts.  Active force is much like guns, which can be used to either inflict evil or interdict against it.  Take, say, a parliamentary republic dropping brutality upon fiends who did so to them first.  Israel’s disparagers hate devices as much as they do the notion that there’s one Jewish nation on Earth.

We live in Tom Wolfe’s world.  it turns out his fiction was predictive.  His nonfictional subjects exhibit such a perfectly twisted take on logic that they couldn’t mock themselves even if they were capable of introspection.

Self-righteousness aimed at the country defending from marauders makes the sides clear for anyone confused.  Malicious clatter from campuses and maniacal rallies only sounds like a parody.  Alleged backers of underdogs rabidly cheer against Israel.  They pre-empt those who mock them.

Ghastly allies of terror drives couldn’t define themselves better.  They’re not even trying.  You’ve undoubtedly grown tired of attempting to determine whether the inability to distinguish between types of aggression constitutes blatant ignorance or ghastly devotion to diabolical causes.  Inadvertently revealing they side with villains is the closest they’ll get to honesty.

[quinntamsin]

Sitting on the sidelines, she watched the Firstborn Followers of the Fallen hand out pamphlets. Her eyesight noted how their eyes held no real life, and only dark malice. Possessed walking the streets and acting like Jehovah Witness'. This isn't good. VERY BAD! Saoirse crept along the edge of the alley, her eyes firm on the men as they disappeared into a strange temple. Opening her phone she snapped a picture, the strange bladed cross of Adriel sat atop it. "These fucks just moved into my home, is anyone dealing with them?" --- SPOILERS AHEAD! YES, Warrior Nun Season 2 came out and I binged it like the basic thirsty bitch I AM! Please note, I have a lot of solid criticism for this series and a lot of love for it. Please be aware, this TV Series is a strict departure from the kind of hypersexualized work of Ben Dunn, "Warrior Nun Areala". In that world, the Halo doesn't exist in the same way that the Nun in question (Shannon) is a reincarnation of the original Nun, Areala. In this story, Arela is a former pagan Valkyrie comes to serve the church. There's a lot more magick and devils in this story and not as much multiplanar science. First, I want to say that as we enter this season, Ava was her usual irritating self. I mean the girl was basically abused and killed for being disable as an orphan. Remember, she was treated as completely useless and was poisoned to death via an overdose. So when she got the Halo she went hogwild with all the power and ability to you know -walk.-. By now she's still being her reckless self, and starts to actually mature. The breakout of this particular season to me were Beatric, Superion and Camila. Yeah, when we finally get Yasmine into the mix I like how we have a Coptic Nun (who decided to drop a few drags on the British Colonization of Egypt) join the crew. The Ugly Adriel is one of the MOST abhorrently plot armor-filled villain I've seen since I watched WIthout a Trace. Seriously, that godkin should have been killed so many times and the fact he could figure shit out was just stupid. Near the end we got a good example of his power, but honestly these fights felt more like needless tension raising rather than threats. This is where seeing him doing more than offhanded plagues would have been kind of great. As you know, maybe a scene where he stares down a tank, or I dunno ends a war. Like seriously, I mean I get the catholic influences in this show. But there is far too much plot armor propping up the Firstborn, especially with how they treated Lillith. Oh, gods don't get me started on FUCKING LILLITH! Second, Lillith literally murders an entire crowd of the Firstborn fucks and then turns to the man later on. She breaks away after hearing of Mary's death and just -gives- up? Like I get that her mother is shitty and that we're trying to tie her to the demon in the comics (who is a villain daughter of the OG Lillith), but wasted arc. Seeing her as more of a neutral party rather than a simp for Adriel would have been awesome. Since she was already a pretty solid anti-heroine backstory since Season 1. So basically, the story here is just kind of filled with a lot of stakes and at times needless extension. Adriel spends most of the time being a fucking mouthpiece of his own rhetoric and his followers are mooks. The few who reveal themselves at the Conclave was nice touch. Finally, god Miguel was kind of cool, but he was basically a bomb sent by a god. That was his story, sure he introduce the anti-Adriel resistance, but his entire arc was just kind of blah. The Good Fuck, Beatrice is filled with such fucking useless lesbian energy. The entire build up is done in such a way, that I was honestly angry with Ava a lot. But, honestly, Ava is nice to have as a bi/pan figure as well. I had a lot of gay thoughts popping away, but I like Avatrice as a couple. Yeah, in the original season it seemed there was more chemistry with Mary. How she appeared to love Shannon though build up this relationship which seems to coalesce out of the Halo-Bearers with their sisters. Now, there is something to be said for how well acted Beatrice as a big sister is to Camila. What we see here though is the need to protect and care for someone in a supporting and romantic manner. Mary and Beatrice have a strong bond with the Warrior Nun. As Warrior Sisters they stand as a sort of right-hand and as a defender. Yes, the Halo Bearer's have vast supernatural powers, but they need someone to watch their back. This is made even more evident as it was Beatrice in Season 1 who conducted Ava's training. Being together in isolation after the awakening of Adriel and the bombing at the Vatican likely increased their dependence on one another. Her frustration and how she expresses it with Miguel's appearance and joining the team was well acted. Hell, I was so fucking happy when they kissed by the end! The End This series is not nearly as bad as Cursed, which was a -very fucking bad- fantasy series. One that had a bit of potential which ended up wasted! Because, we can't have Arthurian stuff that is kind of okay these days! Now that said, the CGI in this series is still pretty janky. Like, I feel like if Shadow & Bone or even Witcher can get an upgraded so can Warrior Nun. Now this was a series I wasn't sure was going to get renewed. I watched it when Summer 2020 came before I made my big watch of the first Saga's of One Piece. So when I saw a new season I was pleasantly surprised. I do find it really funny that netflix seems intent on placating the Queers with tossing us a bone of a few solid LGBT filled series. While still supporting trash human beings like I dunno, David Chapelle? Who the fuck knows in this case. I was happy to watch this series, and when Adriel was torn apart all I could say was "Took way too damn long!" Hottakes: I watched this series at the end of a long day and in between assistance my sibling with her baby. Plus, I had my teeth drilled because of a cavity so I was pretty damn high as balls. I spent more time analyzing the series and think it over the night after I watched it. So sadly unlike the rest of my reviews I don't have any really hottakes for this one. I will say I want to see some good fics using this verse for you know, better writing!

[papirouge]

My faith based opinions that would have be arrested by chronically online christian bloggers are that you can be feminist and be a christian, that Christ wanted women to follow him and women have always worked outside of the home and it wasn’t unbiblical. That being a pro life feminist means that we ensure the safety of women and children. That also, if your “godly” husband thinks that you dying in childbirth or from any complications in your pregnancy is something he is ok with - you need to leave him. He is demonically possessed. Demonic possession isn’t always like in the movies, you have to listen and trust god when he is guiding you and telling you to be safe ie, our gift of fear. Also christian women need to stop consuming the content from this new wave of neo trad girls when all do is say they’re anti feminists and have a mostly male audience. It’s not spiritually enriching or productive. Our faith is not a trend. It used to be edgy “anti sjw atheists” making this content, now it’s “new age traditional conservatives” using our faith as an aesthetic. It’s false and it will change again to something else.

I think I’m just talking from experience because my little sister is consuming this type of content. She changed from the ‘anti feminist anti sjw atheist’ to a ‘crystal healing reiki student using astrology and essential oils for any injury’ to finally, the ‘anti women’s rights trad wife’ despite not even having a boyfriend. I’m engaged but I’ve gotten a lot of hurtful things told to me by for wearing pants and having a job. I really hope one day she sees that all these people she watches and follows online are either grifting for money or so chronically online that they’re mentally ill and aren’t participating in society. But having a relationship with God is eternal, it will never change because he will never change.

Yeah I never understood why Christians where so defensive against "Christian feminist" but had no issue with "Christian nationalists". I mean if you think feminism has no basis on the Bible because women have to be submissive, so does nationalism because we Christians are supposed to claim only one nation that is the kingdom of God. Same for the Christian conservatives who will mock queer/LGBT Christians over the fact that homosexuality is a sin and them making a whole personality/pride around their identity, when their are themselves building their entire personality around hating the self and entertaining a whole load of sin (violence, constantly cussing people, picking fights, etc.)

There was an AITA with a woman asking if she was the asshole for shutting down her husband to have a delivery at home and without painkillers just bc his mom & sisters did it. He argued it was the only for them to "respect her" I-

Maybe it's just me but I don't consider those trad pickme as actually Christian?? like to me, they are comedians larping as Christians. They are the Christianese washed version of the girl boss. There's nothing "soft Christian girl uwu" in putting out whole videos every day. That stuff is A LOT of work and logistics. What they won't tell you is that they also have a team (editing, copywriting, social media managers, etc) which doesn't fit with the "I don't want to join the workd force and stay at home all day uwu" narrative. Just bc you're not in an office doesn't mean you're not working nor help the corporate world running - especially by hiring people. As someone who's doing vlog on the low, unless filming /editing it all day, it's impossible to regularly update video (~weekly basis) without having a team. And since those women braf about taking care of their house and child this is unlikely they are in fact filming & editing all their videos by themselves.

IDK most of those girls come off as highkey deceptive, bored and just want to flex their lavish lifestyle. In a society when accesss to work is a privilege, not having to even work seems like a luxury. Those chicks are capitalizing off of it.

That being said, I love the irony of those "anti female rights" girls. They've been to school (isn't there a middle aged trad guru who tells girl to not pursue university when she herself has a PhD? 💀), most likely own a bank account, opened their social account without asking for any male permission, wear make up..... but they will swear up and down that females rights and feminism is pointless.... Yeaaah.

I'm 100% convinced most of the girls looking up this content will grow out of this phase though. That's why I'm not too bothered by that. This trend is just the natural consequences of the millenial #girlboss thing - the girls just want to rest for a while lol You can be that in ~10 years, the pendulum will come back in, and a whole new generation of girls who had witnessed the fall from grace of these trad redpill pickme (divorced, single mother, DV, etc.) will revive the girlboss thing as a defiance to the system responsible of that situation ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[puckhead97]

Can you tell us something about the people in the manicverse besides statictale

Sure thing! Do keep in mind that most of these concepts are still works in progress and are still prone to change.

Murder: A Toriel who had mistakenly killed a human during combat, however, this human wasn’t completely innocent, as they had killed several monsters prior to confronting Toriel. Anyways, after the deed was done, and the human was dead, Toriel found herself blinded by grief, however, with the comfort from Flowey, she took the flower’s advice to “grow stronger” to ensure that she’d be able to protect any other humans that fell into the Underground without using violence. Flowey always providing Toriel with the motivation she needed to finish what she had started as she begun her own Genocide.

Horror: Undyne had been ruling over the world of monsters ever since Asgore’s mysterious disappearance, however, things only continued to worsen for the monsters as time went on. A famine struck the entire Underground as the monsters struggled to survive. Many of the monsters had perished due to the lack of food. Undyne was one of the few to survive, and her ever lasting hunger slowly continued eating away at her mentality as well as morality. The sole things keeping Undyne herself were her sheer willpower and the revenge she wished to bring upon the humans.

Killer: A Sans from a previous Undertale timeline. Sans had been through countless genocides but of course never could remember them, the skeleton only having a vague sense of  déjà vu. However, during one of the many Genocide Routes, Frisk, or rather now Chara, had decided to confront Sans, offering the skeleton a deal, a deal that would ultimately change his life forever. Sans of course refused the deal at first, but through the simple tactic of breaking the little mentality he had left, Chara was able to persuade him. Once Sans had accepted the deal, all Sans had to do was absorb Chara's soul, which he did. With Frisk's vessel soulless, it collapsed to the floor, though Sans was no longer himself, yet instead, it was simply Chara in possession of Sans’ vessel.

Red: The Sans from the Alternate Universe RuinedTale, a Universe that seemingly resembles UnderFell. RuinedTale had taken in the remaining survivors who had survived StaticTale’s destruction, furthermore, Red is actually extremely close with Encryption. Red isn’t someone who should be angered, mainly due to his short temper and his love to throw a few punches.

Zenshia: A humanoid glitch that resides within a Dead Zone within the Database. She had formerly been a human, but after discovering a gateway into the Database and entering it, she begun to slowly grow more and more glitched, similar to how Geno did in the Anti-Void. Zenshia is probably one of the nicest entities within the entirety of the ManicVerse, as she tries to avoid conflicts all together. Another thing to note is that she’s close friends with Encryption, the skeleton probably being her only friend for that matter.

The Eidolons: A group of god-like entities that presumably help maintain all basic functions that help the verse exist. Examples of these being Life, Death, Chaos, Balance, Destruction, Knowledge, etc. Each Eidolon is essential to the continuation of the verse, as without them, all of the ManicVerse may come crashing down. These deities were also the ones to push the Eldrichments (the first race of demons within the verse, Dahlia actually being from this race of demons) back to The Hills, a location that resembles Hell itself.

These are really all the concepts I have planned out at the moment, but I do plan on working/adding more characters!

[safetypinned]

RULES.

— ABOUT.   Mun is 35+. ANYTHING SHIP OR SMUT RELATED IS A NO-GO for people under the age of 21. If you are easily triggered, this may not be a blog for you. Mature or potentially triggering subjects present ranging from mental illness, abuse, abandonment, blood, gore, sexual situations, gas lighting, mental manipulation and control, violent imagery, parental loss, horror themes, murder, torture, suicide and suicidal ideation, self destructive behavior, loss of limbs, religious themes, demonic possession, questionable intent, addiction, and mentions of drug and heavy alcohol use.

— PRIVATE / MUTUALS ONLY / DNI.  Homophobic, transphobic, racist, Tru.mp/Put.in supporting (this is a zero tolerance policy), hating people based on their religious beliefs, what they write between two adult characters and generally crappy shit like that isn’t welcome on my dash! That said, I'm friendly to anyone who wants to approach and be nerds together. Just don't be a jerk. :D

— CANON DIVERGENT.   Sam's bi here. He, also, carries highly subject to addictive behaviors like any recovering addict. Demon blood will always be a weakness in the pit of his stomach. It is always in his veins (it's in his DNA at this point) and can be sensed by those sensitive to demon blooded beings. Approach me with any questions on this! Or if you wanna plot on it! As the years go by, his blood drinking improves greatly but tendencies are there and may be used against him. He can and may slip back into his addiction. Addiction is an ugly monster and Sam's never been taught proper coping techniques. He learns them himself. Sometimes they fail. His visions, while he learns to cope better, still exist and drown out the real world on depending on the subject. He is prone to migraines and nightmares. Sam, eventually, gets several tattoos other than his anti-possession symbol. He does dabble in the pot (gasp!) now and then. As well as, more often in much later years, can partake in more than a few alcoholic beverages as an escape mechanism. Something he picked up from Dean though no where near as close to Dean in terms of alcoholism.

— SHIP AGES. I restrict age limits on fc's and characters depending on what season of Supernatural we are writing in. Sam's age range for ships can range from 22+. Post Season 4 ships will be limited to characters 25+. Post Season 7 ships will be limited to characters 30+.

— RELATIONSHIPS/KIDS/ETC.   I roll with chemistry. Highly dependent character. Canons may have various outcomes. Platonic relationships encouraged! I do not accept any oc children for Sam. Family members are HIGHLY dependent on how we vibe. ESPECIALLY Dean and John. We gotta groove, ya dig? OCs loved with plotting so we can make it stick and have all the good things! Send me your ladies! Older muses loved and adored! I won't do pregnancy plots or Sam having his own kids that aren't in the show.

— FOLLOWING.   Give me a little bit to check out your blog if you follow. I like to know your rules out of respect! If I’m following, I want to interact.

— AFFILIATES, EXCLUSIVES AND MAINS.   Accepting on a limited basis for mains and a very limited basis for exclusives. My requirements are: We must be posting together regularly and be mutuals. Affiliates will come naturally. I don't mind being approached or approaching! I, normally, keep the number of the same characters I write with down to a small amount out of personal preference!

— NAUGHTY STUFF.   I enjoy writing mature threads. But will only do so with familiar partners. If it’s not your thing? We can fade to black! I’m 10000% fine with either. I do have a sideblog where all of my spicy threads go. TAG TO BLOCK ALL CONTENT OF THAT SORT ACROSS ALL MY BLOGS IS TW OOH LA LA! 

— POST INFO & SPEED.   I match my partner. There are times when I get hella inspired write bunches. I don’t do one-liners. I use small text and one icon that is static and the graphic changes per month. I can enlarge your text if needed. Blog will fluctuate in speed. If I don’t heart your reply, I might not have seen it. Sending me a link is great. Poking me to remind me about an ask is fine!

— PLEASE NOTE.   OOC drama won’t be tolerated. Constant negativity, bullying or harassment are a strict nope. Anons are always off! Open communication regarding any issues is welcome! I don’t have hidden passwords in my rules. Nor will I send in one from yours.

— GRAPHICS.   Icon template / promos / banners / theme are exclusively for this blog by calisources. DO NOT STEAL! Icons made by me. Capped by homeofthenutty

[leobashi]

If two of your FAVORITE MAIN AU'S battled each other which would win?

I’m a physical fight or in a fight for my love? Also idk how much Nach Hen counts considering he’s kinda blurred the lines between AU and oc for me and I am heavily biased towards him hdjdjhdj

Otherwise, my fav AU is the Winter AU. The Ghost Hunted and Old Magic AU are competing for the next spot.

There’s a lot to consider if they fight each other tho 🤔

In terms of Henriks, OM Henrik or Winter would win in a fight (depending on if OM Henrik has been traumatized yet). Nach Henrik is fierce but he’s not beating magic. GH Henrik just sees ghosts, he’s not a fighter

In terms of Marvs, I think OM Marv would win because he’s very strong. His magic is what he lives for. Demon Marv from the Nach Hen AUs is more illusionary and Spring doesn’t have as many tricks up his sleeve as OM Marv. GH Marv is just a psychic

With Jackies, Summer would probably win. OM Jackie is strong magically, but he chooses not to develop his skill in it. In the main Nach Hen AU, he’s a normal human. GH Jackie might be able to dodge him, but if he wants to win, he’ll have to reveal himself eventually and get beat

OM Chase wins by a landslide because he’s the only Chase to wield magic in these AUs. He’s just a regular human in all the other ones

I think Autumn would win out of all the Jamies. Nach Hen Jamie isn’t super special and OM Jamie focuses on his fortune telling more than any other offensive magic. GH Jamie is just a normal human

Trying to determine which of the four Antis would win in a fight is really difficult. OM Anti is arguably stronger than OM Marv, but Winter AU Anti literally cannot die and does not get tired. GH Anti and Nach Hen Anti are both demons in different ways. I guess GH Anti would try to possess Nach Hen Anti and beat him that way? Winter AU Anti would just surrender before even doing anything. Then OM Anti and GH Anti would go head to head. Uhh who would win?? GH Anti can try to possess OM Anti but OM Anti can try to combat it and by sheer force of will and magic he might be able to. They’re both stubborn as all hell. If they were both putting 1000% into it tho, I think OM Anti would win

In the end, the six would fight and I think OM Anti would win it all. The Seasons don’t have as many magical tricks they can use. OM Chase was weaker than OM Henrik and OM Henrik was only at his strongest under OM Anti. OM Anti and OM Marv grew up together, but OM Anti was the one to lose himself completely to his magic and is stronger because of it, but it’s a very close battle (as you’ll maybe one day see in the canon)

[safetypinnedmoved]

RULES.

— ABOUT.   Mun is 35+. ANYTHING SHIP OR SMUT RELATED IS A NO-GO for people under the age of 21. If you are easily triggered, this may not be a blog for you. Mature or potentially triggering subjects present ranging from mental illness, abuse, abandonment, blood, gore, sexual situations, gas lighting, mental manipulation and control, violent imagery, parental loss, horror themes, murder, torture, suicide and suicidal ideation, self destructive behavior, loss of limbs, religious themes, demonic possession, questionable intent, addiction, and mentions of drug and heavy alcohol use.

— PRIVATE / MUTUALS ONLY / DNI.   Please feel free to approach! Homophobic, transphobic, racist, Trump/Putin supporting, hating people based on their religious beliefs, what they write between two adult characters and generally crappy shit like that isn’t welcome on my dash!

— CANON DIVERGENT.   Sam's bi here. He, also, still carries some highly subject to addictive behaviors like any recovering addict. Demon blood will always be a weakness in the pit of his stomach. As the years go by, this improves greatly but tendencies are there and may be used against him. It's in his DNA at this point. His visions, while he learns to cope better, still exist and still drown out the real world on depending on the subject matter. He is prone to migraines and nightmares. Sam, eventually, gets several tattoos other than his anti-possession symbol. He does dabble in the pot (gasp!) now and then. As well as, more often in much later years, can partake in more than a few alcoholic beverages as an escape mechanism. Something he picked up from Dean though no where near as close to Dean in terms of alcoholism.

— SHIP AGES. I restrict age limits on fc's and characters depending on what season of Supernatural we are writing in. Sam's age range for ships can range from 22+. Post Season 4 ships will be limited to characters 25+. Post Season 7 ships will be limited to characters 30+.

— RELATIONSHIPS/KIDS/ETC.   I roll with chemistry. Highly dependent character. Canons may have various outcomes. Platonic relationships encouraged! I do not accept any oc children for Sam. Family members are HIGHLY dependent on how we vibe. ESPECIALLY Dean and John. We gotta groove, ya dig? OCs loved with plotting so we can make it stick and have all the good things! Send me your ladies! Older muses loved and adored! I won't do pregnancy plots or Sam having his own kids that aren't in the show.

— FOLLOWING.   Give me a little bit to check out your blog if you follow. I like to know your rules out of respect! If I’m following, I want to interact.

— AFFILIATES, EXCLUSIVES AND MAINS.   Accepting on a limited basis for mains and a very limited basis for exclusives. My requirements are: We must be posting together regularly and be mutuals. Affiliates will come naturally. I don't mind being approached or approaching! I, normally, keep the number of the same characters I write with down to a small amount out of personal preference!

— NAUGHTY STUFF.   I enjoy writing mature threads. But will only do so with familiar partners. If it’s not your thing? We can fade to black! I’m 10000% fine with either. I do have a sideblog where all of my spicy threads go. TAG TO BLOCK ALL CONTENT OF THAT SORT ACROSS ALL MY BLOGS IS TW OOH LA LA! 

— POST INFO & SPEED.   I match my partner. There are times when I get hella inspired write bunches. I don’t do one-liners. I use small text and one icon that is static and the graphic changes per month. I can enlarge your text if needed. Blog will fluctuate in speed. If I don’t heart your reply, I might not have seen it. Sending me a link is great. Poking me to remind me about an ask is fine!

— PLEASE NOTE.   OOC drama won’t be tolerated. Constant negativity, bullying or harassment are a strict nope. Anons are always off! Open communication regarding any issues is welcome! I don’t have hidden passwords in my rules. Nor will I send in one from yours.

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[sowninchrist]

Breaking Bread: Mark 9:23 🥖

“Jesus said to the father, “Why did you say “if You can’? All things are possible for the one who believes.” - NLT

Glory be to God, that He receives all the praise and acknowledgment. I am a mere human who is a vessel used to do the Will of the Lord God, Jesus Christ. He who lives within us is greater than the one who lives in the world; help us Lord to forgive so that on the final day, we may be forgiven as well, may all our petitions be well received before the Lord!

Why was it hard for this man to believe that Jesus could heal his son?

Reading Mark 9:16-17, we see that Jesus is speaking to scribes who have no faith, and later on in the main verse we see that the father asks Him to help him with his unbelief.

“Jesus asked the experts in Moses’ Teachings, “what are you arguing about with them?” 17 ”A man in the crowd answered, “Teacher, I brought You my son. He is possessed by a spirit that won’t let him talk.” Mark 9:16-17 GW

Someone who has just came from the world into wanting to know more of the Lord and has been convicted by the Truth knows that wanting to be right with Jesus would be to just believe in Him, I remember reading a few days ago that only believing in Him and knowing your sins were forgiven sound beautiful to be true. But then we see that IN James 2:19 it states, “You believe that God is one. Good! Even the demons believe--and they shudder.” So believing isn’t going to allow us to see the difference; in James 2:17, “In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.”. So it’s not that you only have to believe but to show the actions tying it with believing.

This Scripture shows us that following the law of your flesh (thinking you’re doing just fine on your own), or living outside the Son of God (Moses’ Teachings), doesn’t have anything to do with faith; on contrary it’s anti-faith.

Kids who trust in Jesus (when no one is pushing them against Him) easily trust and believe in Him, there’s a saying that people say about children, that they are closer to Jesus because they recently came from heaven so a part of their spirit is connected to heaven still. When Jesus compares a child’s faith to a grown “faith”, He states that the kingdom of Heaven belong to children, why? Because they believe. Our faith must be like of a child, one of the most beautiful things about Jesus is that, He mentioned the most delicate and innocent beings to make an analogy of how to get into His Kingdom.

“Jesus said, “If? There are no ‘ifs’ among believers. Anything can happen.” - MSG

Something to take notice of is that the man tells Jesus to help him with his unbelief, he believes but needs help with his unbelief.

Both in the strong dictionary go to the same thing, believe (G4100) meaning to have faith; unbelief (G570) “faithfulessness, that is, (negatively) disbelief (want of Christian faith), or (positively) unfaithfulness (disobedience): -unbelief.”

Notice how disobedience is under the definition of unbelief, this man was disobedient to the Lord in believing in His Son because he was used to what the law of Moses taught, scribes were people who were copyists, they would write down the law (OT), in Galatians, Paul mentions that where the law was there was no faith and if the law had stayed faith wouldn’t be needed, considering Jesus came when He was needed a new fruit was being born, the fruit of Faith.

In Mark 9:23, Jesus says, “if You can?”

If (G1487) CONNECTION OR COMPOSITION WITH OTHER PARTICLES, (G1489)

G1489 - From G1487 and G1065: if indeed, seeing that, unless, (with negative) otherwise: -if (so be that, yet).

If is connected as negative, when you think about it, without faith you can’t please the Lord.

Looking into the G1065 “A primary particle of emphasis or qualification (often used with other particles prefixed): -and besides, doubtless, at least, yet.”

This man was so used to living by the letter and not faith, this is why he told Jesus to help him with his unbelief, because he understood that without faith the work of the Lord can’t be done, he understood that the only way the demon would leave his son alone would be with faith.

Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” NIV

PRAYER:

Father Lord, I thank you for this breaking of the Bread, blessed is Your name, Your kingdom come, give us our daily bread, forgive us of our sins as we have forgiven those who have sinned against us, deliver us from temptation; may you believe help me with my unbelief, I want to believe that you will complete the things I put my hope for, may Your Will be done, not mines. You who are the author of Faith, may you instill within me more Faith because without Faith I cannot please You. Please fill me up with Your Holy Spirit and help me to be patient and persevere in all times wherever I lack. Thank You Lord for everything that you’ve done in my life that I don’t acknowledge from the smallest action to the biggest action.

In the powerful name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Amen.

Next time you have doubt, the first thing you ought to do is pray to the Lord to help with unbelief. These are often attacks from the enemy but also attacks from our flesh because we want something right away. Remember hearing the Word gives us faith, we need to ask Him to give us more in order for us to give Him what He deserves.

[spaceumbredoggos]

So Much For Stardust Chapter Five

Major Trigger warning: Self harm, implied grooming, suicide attempt, parental abuse, psych ward themes, demonic possession, a really long chapter (not as long as the original draft because I didn’t kill Scalesy. I decided not to do that because he’s cute.), gore, drugs and alcohol, and lots of lore. I’d be surprised if Tumblr doesn’t mature rate this like it did to like two of my chapters. Enough rambling.

Kenz’s POV:

Blood. Blood as far as the eye could see. Blood in puddles. Blood in clumps. Torn skin smushed into the formerly clean white walls. Clots of blood staining the anti-suffocation sheets and blankets. The metallic acrid tangy smell. The dark crimson red. The sticky feel. The sharp irony taste. It’s everywhere. It’s all over the bed. All over the walls. Bloody triangles painted all with one eye. Right beside me was the razor my roommate had snuck in. She’s in a padded room now, pumped up with booty juice.

I twitched in my bed, waking up from the blur of the fight. The fight that I lost. How could I be so foolish? How could I have not been able to protect myself? I won a trophy in a Jui Jitsu tournament after all. I shouldn’t be losing fights.

It’s the nurses faults for this. Fuck them!!! Fuck everyone in this cruel world!!! They knew that my roommate was dangerous. How could they allow this? I’m about to die!!!

A nurse bolted in, frantically trying to stop the bleeding. I started sobbing, curling my fingers in. “Why didn’t you save me?!” I blinked and passed out.

I woke up in a different psych ward. Older. The wounds gone. What a terrible dream. I sat upright and clutched my umbreon plush for comfort. The trauma of the nurse’s negligence thankfully was more mental than physical. My roommate had thankfully never hurt me back then. But the thought that she might have given half the chance hurt like knives. I don’t want to be here. No one wants to be here. They separate us by gender, when I could be gay for all anyone can know. Boys can’t talk to girls. Girls can’t talk to boys. They can’t even be in the same room. Unlike the last place, you can’t even choose your menu.

At least my roommate seems to know how to get out of this place. Fake it till you make it. Go to every group. Get all the points you can. Eat at least 50% of your food no matter how disgusting it was. Even if all you want to do is sleep.

At least I’ll never end up in one of these places again, right? Right?

I gasped awake, shaking in my blankets. These were the blankets my gran had brought with me in to the ER. They managed to wash all the blood off of them. I only ever see the confines of this place. Am I in a psych ward? Is my dad’s old family friend my doctor? He seemed to know this stuff. Where’s everyone else? Why can’t I leave this room? At least Scalesy is my friend. However annoying he is. He won’t let me stand up. But why?

No one explicitly stated this was a psych ward, but the way Ford watches me, even in my own sleep. It feels like it. I wish I could move and walk. But now, I’m trapped in one of my false awakening dreams. “Not again!!! Not fucking again!!!” I thrashed myself, trying to wake up. But I couldn’t even move. “No no no!!!”

“Yes yes yes.” Bill turned my head over to face him, laughing his ass off. “Why are you here?”

“Stay still!!!” He snarled, his hands glowing in that familiar blue flame. I shook, only able to watch as Bill tore my soul out of my body. I gazed down, watching my own emerald green orbs turn bright electric yellow with slitted pupils. This isn’t a dream anymore.

Panicking, I searched around for Ford. To my surprise, he wasn’t in this room. I turned around to glare at Bill. “WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HIM?”

“He’s just asleep in his room. The perfect opportunity to—“

Scalesy hissed and flared up his hood. Bill glared at the snake, raising his fist to smash its head. But it only shook in the air and fell to his side. “Fuck. I forgot that this body has too much empathy for animals. But what’s a snake to a man, anyways?”

Scalesy hissed and struck without biting, trying to intimidate Bill. “Aww. Your little hissy fit routine may work on predators, but I’m not gonna hurt you. Why do you insist on protecting this kid who can’t even speak parseltongue? The kid’s expendable. So what if they saved your life? They’re ruining mine!!!”

Bill managed to stand up, something I was unable to do in my body with Scalesy pestering me to lay down. Scalesy hissed and tried to constrict around Bill’s neck, wrapping his tail in between the cushions on the couch. Bill tucked and rolled, accidentally knocking the wind out of Scalesy and rendering him unconscious but not dead. Scalesy woke up, coiling and poising himself to strike. Bill grabbed a hook and pinned Scalesy down, then placed him in a terrarium that Ford had set up. He duct taped the lid on and poked air holes with a fork. He dusted off his hands. “Now that snake nanny has been taken care of.”

I tried to get the duct tape off of the terrarium, but I was tugged forward by a force towards my body. Bill grabbed Ford’s bottle of expensive vodka and started chugging it. He stopped mid sip and laughed. “Ahahaha!! This kid can’t handle their booze. Just a mere taste causes a burning in their mouth. This body rejects it!!! But little do they know that vodka completes me.” Bill managed to force it down and found the bottle of my pills on the counter. “Here we go. Trazadone. My favorite for knocking kids senseless.”

“What?”

“Why do you think you were prescribed this? It’s the easiest way to let me into your mind. Sixer is trying to titrate you off the stuff for his more ‘natural sleep remedies’ like cannabis and better sleep hygiene. Can’t have that when the CBD can heal your brain and cause you to make sense of what’s happening in a healthy way.” Bill downed fifty pills and stumbled around, scrambling on the floor. “Best of all, Sixer will think you lost your mind. You’ve tried this before and failed. Gonna make sure that doesn’t happen. Gotta head to the kitchen for a quickie sec.”

“Wait wait no!!!!”

“Aww. Does someone value their life too much? How about this? Your only reason for your pathetic existence was to serve me. And now that people are catching on, I better hide the evidence. Can’t have you healing. If it weren’t for that Cherub, you would have been disposed of earlier.”

“You mean—“

“That’s right. You weren’t just suddenly suicidal for no reason. That stupid mutt had to become a cherub and turn your life for the better after my meddling. I need you no longer. Can’t have you living and explaining my plans.” Bill stumbled into the elevator he managed to get open with a button. He managed to make it to the mystery shack gift shop before faceplanting onto the floor. A tall woman with short red hair wearing green flannel and a goth woman with red eyes and silver hair were conversing at the cash register about a party.

“Shit!! Ice bag and Moon Wolf.”

The two immediately turned to glare at Bill. They arched defensively. I scrambled to find something, anything to use for a vessel to tell them what happened. My eye finally caught the Minecraft fox plush on Bill’s back that I was sleeping with. I grabbed it, levitating it off the air.

“I’m so sorry about this, guys. I don’t know who you are, but my name’s Kenz. The one who Bill is possessing—“

The red haired woman threw the axe at the plush, causing it to cut in half.

“Wendy!!!”

“Shit.” Wendy rushed over to grab her axe and facepalmed as I scrambled to find my shiny Umbreon plush. “Luckily for the two of you, I sleep with more than one comfort plushie because I’m autistic as fuck and—“

“Shut the fuck up, Zie Zie!!!”

“Bill!!!”

“Loona.”

“Wendy, Loona. Welp. Now that we’re aquatinted, can you please—“

Bill chucked the plush I was possessing at the wall and stumbled up towards the kitchen. “Stay out of my way.”

“Is that vodka?”

“Just let me dispense of this body and I’ll deal with you later—“ Loona pinned Bill to the wall. “Wendy, call Ford while I hold them in place.”

Suddenly, “I Hope You Die In A Fire” by the Living Tombstone (which I was listening to before I went to sleep.) Started playing on Bluetooth on the mystery shack intercom. Ford yawned as he looked like he was fresh out of bed. He drank some coffee and noticed the situation.

“Let me go you mop with fangs!!! Emo and five nights at Freddy’s will never— Wait, I can’t say that. No no no no. I’m not letting myself stoop that low. Why does Zie Zie have to have such a great taste in music? Shit!!! How did Sixer plan this far in advance?”

Ford shook his head. “What do you mean? I didn’t plan for this at all.”

“Sure. Sure you didn’t. Kenz’s phone just happened to be connected to the Bluetooth playing a five nights at Freddy’s song—“

“If it were me, it wouldn’t be a five nights at Freddy’s song. It would have been—“

“Shit. I forgot you have the taste of a snail.”

Ford glared at Bill as if something snapped. “I HAVE TASTE THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!”

“YOU KNOW WHAT? shit. can you write this down, Moon wolf? FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOUR COW!!! FUCK YOUR MOM LIKE A PIG!!! FUCK—“

“Are you done yet?” I then noticed Bill steal a knife from Loona’s pocket. “I got a stabby! You’ll be missing Zie Zie badly!! I just got a stabby!!!” It was at that moment that the drugs and alcohol had started to kick in. “Fahk…” He rolled his head back. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Loony… Loony Toony. Did you know that—“

“Get out of their body, you asshole!!!”

“Don’t you wanna fu—“

“NO!!! THERE WILL BE NO FUCKING!!! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BODY BEFORE I FIND OUT HOW TO RELEASE SCALESY!!!! THEN ITS ALL OVER FOR YOU, HOE!!!!”

Bill burst out laughing, but in a drunken giggle. He then stabbed himself in the shoulder over and over again, staining the floor scarlet before Loona took the knife away from him. “MY TOY!!!”

Wendy proceeded to tickle Bill. “Fahk!!!!!”

“Get out!!”

“Yeah!!!” Suddenly, I started to feel the effects of the drugs and alcohol. “No no no… I’m in sensory pain…”

“Haha!!! Weak!!!”

Ford joined in on the tickling as Bill tried to bite him, but ended up accidentally giving me my body back. “Augh… Oww. Okay. I’m back I’m back… You can stop. Please, get these drugs out of me.”

Ford breathed a sigh of relief as I started to throw up. Loona smiled as I gazed away from her. “Dude. That was incredible.”

“I didn’t do anything.” I leaned on Loona. “Yeah you did.”

“Name one thing that I did.”

“You warned us.”

“So?”

“You faced that fucker like it was just another Tuesday.” Loona was clearly impressed as Wendy burst out laughing. “Kid. You’re amazing!”

“I wasn’t brave or strong. I only spoke from a plushie.”

“But you didn’t give up. And you were brave. You just don’t want to admit it. I’d probably be scared shitless.”

“Stop trying to make me feel better. I can tell when someone isn’t being genuine. And as far as I can tell, no one ever is.” I bristled, stumbling over to the couch and passing out.

I woke up feeling batter after Ford had successfully delivered the antidote. “Thank god that shit show was over.” I turned around, sighing and shaking. Wendy and Loona exchanged concerned glances as Mabel handed me my Minecraft fox plush back. It was all sewn up like brand new. “Here you go.”

“You didn’t have to do that… I could’ve…” I sat there, flashing back to when my dad would berate me.

“Stop wasting your pocket money on stupid plushies.”

“But they make me so happy!!!”

“Grow the fuck up!!! You’re eighteen.”

“But it’s my money! I earned it with those straight A’s!! It’s my graduation money.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” Mabel’s words broke me out of the trance. I didn’t realize that I was flashing back. I held the Minecraft Fox plush close to me. “Yeah. I’m fine. I should probably head on home…”

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. Ford looked the most distraught. “What? Bill’s not gonna hurt them, right?”

“Even if he wasn’t, you can’t go back home.” Ford sighed. I stood up, inching towards the door. “What do you mean? Of course I can! I can… I can…”

“You can’t even make it past the town border.”

“Listen Mr. Know it all!!! I don’t know who you think you are and why do you think that just because your brother is an old family friend of my dad’s that you know what’s best for me. Because the last time I let that happen…” I flashed back to when I got out of the hospital back when I was ten and everything was taken out of my room due to the recommendation of my ABA therapist who happened to be a family friend.

She took everything from me. I held back the tears. My friends. My family. My relationships. All to try to make me normal. She wouldn’t let me be me. I bolted out the door. I can make it to the town border. I can do it!!!

“Quit laying on your ass and be a productive member of society.”

“The world does not revolve around you!!!”

“Nonbinary doesn’t exist. If I use your pronouns I will be setting you up for failure.”

“During the transition to independence, Kenz will allow their father to participate in all aspects of support, including, but not limited to medical, education, housing, and financial. The next steps towards this will be signing over power of attorney to my dad.”

“I will NOT engage in outbursts behavior or be disrespectful to my mom or dad while they adjust to using my preferred pronouns.”

“If I do not agree to or comply with the terms of this contract, other housing arrangements will be made through Tri Counties Regional Center (TCRC) and the state of California.”

The flashbacks echoed in my mind as I rushed over towards the edge of the town border. I took a few steps forward, only to be flung back by a brutal imaginary force. “Come on! Come on!! Come on!!!” I threw myself at the border over and over again, but kept getting flung back. I collapsed, exhausted beyond belief and the wind knocked out of me. “No!!!” I screamed, reaching towards the border. I tried once again to fling myself across it, only to be flung back again.

I heard Ford’s car pull up as I kept flinging myself across the border towards the setting sun. Mosquitoes started to bite my arms as I kept launching myself over and over again. Bruises formed on my arms and cuts were scraped on my knees.

“Kenz!!!”

I ignored Ford’s desperate plea as I kept launching myself in the air. Footsteps sounded as Loona and Wendy rushed up to me, grabbing me as I tried to get across. “JUST LET ME TRY ONE MORE TIME!!!”

Loona and Wendy shook their heads as I struggled against them, but was too exhausted to do it for too long. “Wh-why? Why won’t the border let me across? Am I dead? Is this hell?”

Ford shook his head as I fell limp on the ground, shaking and panting. Wendy and Loona backed off into the car to give Ford and I some space. “Kenz. Listen to me. You are trapped in Gravity Falls because of Gravity Falls’s natural law of weirdness magnetism.”

“But how does it let you across when you’re just as weird as me?” I shook, flinching away from Ford. “It’s because you’re… you’re… Fuck. I don’t know this for sure. But I have a hunch and it isn’t something you want to hear. But listen to me.”

“No. Listen to me!!!” I stood up, my knees buckling. “You may know how this town works and how everything is set in place but don’t you dare assume that you know me or anything I’ve been through. And don’t you think because you’re Mr smart guy that I’m gonna let you tell me what’s best for me, because I spent several months trying to undo the bat-shittery that my father and his little friends put me through. And I’m not having my progress be undone because of some sort of cosmic conspiracy that I didn’t ask to be a part of!!!”

“Be honest…” Tears filled my eyes. “Am I really too weird? Too weird to be around normal people? Am I just a mistake? Am I even human?” I turned around, trying to stifle the tears. Ford rubbed my shoulders, but I flinched away and tried to run.

“All anyone’s ever done was either leave or bring me trouble!!! How do I know that none of you will hurt me too? Am I just better off dead like Bill thinks?! Who am I anymore?!!!!!” I broke down, collapsing on the ground, the pain in my heart tearing itself in half. “Kenz. Look. It’s gonna be okay.”

“How do you know, Ford?”

“Because I’ve been in the exact same situation you were in. I know it seems like the world is against you and everywhere you turn is filled with people who hate you. But sometimes, it takes someone to help you out. Someone who refuses to leave your side and refuses to let you go.”

“Just who the fuck is that dependable?” I held my Minecraft fox plush tight to my chest. Ford smiled, rubbing my head. “There’s lots of people who care about you. Wendy and Loona drove with me out to the edge of town just to make sure you didn’t accidentally kill yourself trying to leave. They would have let you die if they cared any less. Kenz. Listen to me. I know what it’s like to be stripped of everyone you’ve trusted. I know what it’s like to be used, and it’s not fun. You don’t have to do this alone.”

I wiped the snot off my nose. “Kenz, let me tell you something. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for not giving up. For holding on so well for so long. You managed to keep Bill secret for far longer than I could ever have. I can tell by the way you shake when his name is mentioned that he’s been targeting you for years. You were put in an unfair situation as a kid, yet look at you. You’re forgiving, kind, empathetic beyond all means, and you have a sense of humor about it. You are smarter than a lot of people at your age, you know that? You managed to survive it all—“

“It was just dumb luck. I’m nothing, okay?” I shook as Ford reached out for a hug, causing me to flinch back. “I’m not brave just because I catch bugs and lizards and stuff, okay? I’m terrified of people. Terrified that they might hurt me. Terrified that they would leave me. Terrified that I have to leave them. Animals are different. They’re always around. They live such short lives that you’re a huge part of theirs whether you like it or not. They don’t like people leaving any more than I do. And too many humans take advantage of animals just like they take advantage of me!!!”

Ford nodded. “You’ve been taken advantage of too, eh?”

“Stop acting like you know what it’s like. Because you don’t. Okay? You don’t know what it’s like waking up in the middle of the night a shit ton of nights screaming your lungs out reliving every shitty hand you’ve dealt yourself. You don’t know what it’s like hearing the voice inside your own head that isn’t yours tell you things far beyond anyone’s darkest nightmares. You haven’t had things done to you that you wouldn’t wish on your worse enemy. That you can’t tell anyone that it happened because it was in your dreams and therefore, you’re crazy. You don’t know what it’s like, having everything taken from you from people who were supposed to help. Twice.” I stood defensively at the border. “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with this bullshit routine of trying to help and trying to get me to heal like the rest of my dad’s shitty family friends. Because I’m not. Okay?” I sighed. “Just let me go. That way I won’t hurt anyone.”

Ford gazed at me, holding back the tears. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Kenz, have you been trying to heal from all of this shit for yourself, or just to prove to your father that you don’t need him?”

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. “But I was doing everything right. Seeking out therapists. Reaching out to friends. And I would still be doing everything right—“

“But Bill—“

“I’ve had enough of Bill’s bullshit. ‘Kay? I’ve been trying to get that no good fucker to shut up for years. I’ve been ignoring him ever since I left that crisis home. And that was the closest I ever felt to free. Now I’m trapped in some sort of prison because I can’t get him out of my head. Everything I ever did led me to this point. I got myself into this hole. I can sure as fuck…” I bit my tongue. I don’t know that. I shook. “Look. How the fuck as I supposed to know you’re not like all the other family friends my dad has called forth. How do I know you’re not in contact with him right now?”

Ford sighed, sitting next to me. “I was in contact with him since before the Pandemic. That’s true. I wanted to come down and visit. But, shit happened. I wanted to tell Jacob that it was a shitty idea to pull you from school and not let you join band. Covid fucked a lot of shit up.” He sighed again. “I would’ve gone far as to fight him for custody because he was taking everything out of your room. He bragged about that shit a lot. He told me how you were a brat who refused to grow up. He said that you were ungrateful after he ‘fought so hard for you.’ But you know what I saw?”

“What?”

“I saw a man who was only presenting himself as a father as an accessory. He wanted you as a trophy. As inspiration. He thought being a special needs parent meant that you had no autonomy of your own. And he only sought those out who thought the same. Stanley told me about UCLA and what happened with your mother. He was shocked to hear that you were hospitalized three times.”

I sniffed, holding back more tears. “My point is, none of that would have happened if your dad accepted your autism diagnosis back when you were three as something that was a minority like being trans. He didn’t even see that you were struggling with gender dysphoria as early as age nine.”

“And how the fuck do you know that?” I bristled up, which Ford was unfazed by. “I spoke with Ann a lot when you were in a coma. I also spoke with Stanley. He visited a lot back then, and knew from the way you didn’t hang out with a lot of the girls at your school. You never had dolls and other girl stuff. You played Minecraft a lot—“

“Lots of tomboys get into video games. I was never sporty, okay? And I still watched frozen and tangled when I was younger—“

“Be honest with yourself. Did you ever really see yourself in those princesses, or did you really just say that just to appease people.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not denying that I’m trans neutral. Okay? I just don’t understand why you think it’s okay to involve yourself in my business so much. And don’t say some mushy shit like you care, or you see yourself in me… or…” It was at this point I broke down. “Fuck. I’m sorry…”

“Kenz. Don’t apologize.”

“But all the things I said—“

“Were valid. I know you’re scared to trust again. I was too.”

“Promise me one thing, okay?” I gazed into his ice blue eyes hopefully. “Promise me whatever happens that you don’t leave like everyone else. That you don’t hurt me like everyone else and tell me it’s all my doing. The second you break this promise, you’ll wish you hadn’t. You’ll never hear or see from me again. No one will. I’ve already lost everything enough times.”

Ford tensed up, but nodded. He must notice how hurt I am. I backed away, cornered by the town border. Ford held out his hand and smiled. “I promise. Just please trust me.”

I shook one more time before nodding, following Ford to the back seat of his car. “Okay.”

[thestarpletsystem]

I mean, why does it matter what your personal ideas about religion are? Plenty of people find religion later in life and are completely fine in that. Sure, the typical Christian model of religion is typically one of shutting out any amount of science or knowledge, but thats not the case for every religion or even every church in Christianity. I found Judaism later in my life, and it’s been nothing but great to me. My fiance grew up both Jewish and Christian but is also into demonology and voodoo (yes she’s actually apart of that practice and has done it the right way), and she found it later in her life too. We even have friends who are into spirituality stuff like runes or magic or tarot cards. Which is fine and great for them! My own mother was raised Catholic but left the faith and spent a lot of time being Wiccan. My aunt who was also raised Catholic became Jewish a bit before marrying my uncle, and my cousins have been raised Jewish, and where they’ll go with their faith is up to them. It’s not inherently bad to grow up in religion or to be religious. It’s a lot of context and nuance between different sects or branches of a religion. It’s not fun to see people bash religion for reasons outside of the religion they’re criticizing. This isn’t to say that there aren’t a lot of ways every religion can improve, but it’s to say that not all of them are how I see people portray online. Sure, there are some that are predatory and do those things, not all do. It’s not fair to over generalize that way.

I also have to add that it’s not fair for you to be forcing your trauma onto others. I get it, what happened to y’all isn’t right and it was probably really really bad. We can’t really speak to religious trauma like that. But we can say that we do have some religious trauma. That’s why the majority of my system is non-humans and demons. Think more second hand religious trauma. But I wouldn’t dare use my experiences to deny others their religion or personal choices. That still doesn’t mean that it’s okay to use that as a basis to justify saying all religion and all spirituality is bad. It’s just not your path, and that’s fine, just don’t try to force others to follow it when it’s not for them. That’s your own trauma, not other’s. But realistically, I have to ask, how are you any better than the overbearing Christians who want you to be saved when you’re saying these things? Being an Atheist doesn’t make forcing beliefs or bashing other peoples religions right or okay.

I know you said in replies that you’re not going to deny anyone their plurality if they say it is spiritual, but that’s also not exactly true. When you say things like this, it’s often only working to exclude people, even if you don’t mean it to. So either way, by making these claims, you’re managing to exclude people. Theres also the idea of peoples plurality coming from ghosts, possession, being a medium, and other supernatural/spiritual phenomena. It’s different than being a religious or spiritual system in how I understand you’re meaning. I can’t say I’m an expert or even understand it, but it’s not fair to claim that you won’t even entertain them. Which is tantamount to saying that you won’t respect their origins. It reminds me of the anti-LGBTQ people who say “Well, it’s fine if they do it, but don’t do it in front of me.” Which is fine, I guess, but that’s also incredibly rude and shows their prejudice. If thats where they say their system came from, why does it have to be pushed or forced any further for understanding?

You also mention that endogenic systems have made endogenic super entwined with the idea of spirituality, but that’s also not true. Sure, there are endogenics who are spiritual, but there’s also just as many, if not more, that aren’t. There are those who are religious but that has nothing to do with their plurality, but there’s also those who aren’t at all. I think that a majority of endogenic experiences can be explained by psychology and how the brain works, I even have my own theories that I’ve yet to share. But like I said, why are we trying to force them into a neat box when they just don’t fit like that?

It’s a similar issue to what I’ve seen in the DID community, where there are a lot of systems who are trying to force everyone into neat little boxes. Particularly the Theory of Structural Dissociation. I don’t fit neatly into the ANP category, but I’m also the host and function in the day to day, so I can’t really be classified as an EP. Not all of us in the system fit nicely like that, either. Does that make us any less worthy of being called a DID system? I don’t think so.

I think you were well meaning in your approach and even posting it, but it definitely screams that you’re stuck in your trauma. I don’t say any of this to be a dick, but the arguments you make fall prey to a lot of the same pitfalls of other anti/religious arguments and is just stigmatizing the community further. I guess my arguments all boil down to, just live and let live on the topic of religion. It’s not that pressing in 90% of the cases, and can often be a good thing that gives a better sense of community. Like I said, I don’t understand it too much, but thats not for me to judge. I don’t think it’s for you to, either

I might say something that might be potentially explosively controversial but

we really don't like the spirituality part of plurality. we don't like it how especially some endos have made it that spirituality is entwined with plurality.

Plurality is a psychological phenomenon. Endogenic and Traumagenic are two sides of the coin. But as an atheist, it kind of hurts to see people weave this association we used to have with it that's been used against us to abuse us. Religion is a tool of control. It keeps people in the dark. It explains things that are perfectly explainable things otherwise, making them fantastical.

Now this isnt to say that culture cannot influence it. On the contrary, it often DOES influence plurality and systems at large. And I'm certainly am not going to deny these people their plural existence just because they're religious or spiritual. But as it is, we cannot believe that a "super natural explanation" is one that's true. If you just want to be plural, fine. Have it. But don't expect us to believe that.

There is still so much research needed for plurality as a whole. And we do wish to further understand TOSD and other scientific methods for plurality.

We feel particularly sick to our stomach about linking spirituality with plurality. But that's in the perspective of a white american body raised around Christians, having a "rebellious age" in the host's teenager years of ""wicca"" and ""witchcraft"" and other delusional (ACTUALLY DELUSIONAL) beliefs that teenagers are NOT supposed to be groomed into. We've seen takes from other people's perspectives and noticed that the greyness between spiritual beliefs and science is a way heavier gradient than in the west. So there just may be a catch here we're not getting.

- 🎶, 🔥 & 🐑