#and isn't that just what a monster deserves

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 1

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 3.3k words

Chapter Warnings: angst, language, masterbation, references to physical abuse & references to sexual assault/non-con, injuries to reader

A/N: Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support and interest when I posted the Masterlist for this series.

Please double check the warnings there and at the top of each chapter before you read - I can’t stress this enough!

I hope you enjoy the ride! - Beth ❤️

Next Chapter

The thing about mates was, Dean didn’t want one. His knot was satisfied with the occasional one-night stand to warm his bed and the movies he kept on his laptop that warmed his hand, and he, well…he simply didn’t deserve one.

All his life, people had come and gone, whether by choice or other means, and he understood why. He was far too dangerous, a grunt - he’d learnt both time and time again. From his mother, to his father, to Bobby, the list went on. No matter the person, they always got hurt or worse, and he didn’t need that risk. Hell, he didn’t need the responsibility.

So when he encountered you during a hunt, he was, to say the least, surprised.

You were everything he could ever want in a mate, if ever he’d allow himself the pleasure. But it was what you embodied, not who you were. He didn’t know a lick about you, and even if he could get close enough to learn, he wouldn’t, because you belonged to somebody else.

The mark was clear on your scent gland. Then again, so was the soul mark that connected him to you.

His eagle eyes couldn’t miss his initials sitting right there below your clavicle. They appeared the second he’d touched you, making him thankful for all the layers he wore on the job.

He could still see them, and you, in the rearview as he drove away from where he and Sam had dropped you off. Your scent still clung to the back seat, and him, mixing your spiced cinnamon with the leather, gunpowder and motor oil he surrounded himself with.

It was wonderful until it wasn’t. The constant reminder of what he was allowing to slip through his fingers soured his already pissy mood. Yet he didn’t want you. Nope. Nuh-uh.

“You good?” Sam asked from the passenger seat, still stealing his own glances like some unclaimed omega at a bar, pre-heat. It was getting weird, and Dean chose to focus on the road ahead.

“Yeah,” he said, though his hands gripped the leather-bound wheel tighter, turning his knuckles white as the bone beneath them. He was good, and the sooner they left this shithole of a town, the better.

He cranked up the stereo, stopping only when the dash shook to the bass of Metallica’s Enter Sandman. His car, his music, his rules. It was everything he needed right now at that moment. It was all he could do to drown out the tingles and pangs that continued to churn in his gut and make his knot twitch.

The second he’d put Baby in park, he was up, out, and crossing the lot, heading straight for the dive they were staying at.

Sam’s heavy footsteps chased after him, but his were much faster. He swung open the door, marched across the tattered carpet of their twin room, and slammed the bathroom one behind him before Sam had even stepped off the gravel.

The force of the frayed timber hitting the frame unfixed decades-old dust, sending the particles nowhere but down and straight into his nose as he tried deep breathing to calm himself. It wasn’t working. Nothing was.

“Dammit.” He thumped the wall with his fist, only to inhale more crap as Sam’s voice filtered through the cracks, calling out his name. He just wouldn’t drop it.

“I’m fine,” Dean spat. Of course he wasn’t. Sam was right there on the other side when all he wanted was a moment to himself to collect his thoughts, vent his frustrations. Deal with the strain in his pants, fast becoming painful, and…fuck it. His damn instincts were actually worse than Sammy.

He fumbled with his buckle and popped the button. Moisture already pooled at his tip and when he pushed the denim down and reached in to fist himself, his fingers ran straight through the warm sticky mess with a satisfying tug.

He moaned. Cursed inwardly because of it. Sam’s funk still lingered on the other side and he was bound to notice the pleasurable sound and give him shit for it. So Dean held his breath.

"You know I saw it too," Sam said.

“So?” ‘Course he knew. It was right fucking there. The vamps had torn your clothes, leaving little to his imagination. Your neck. Your claim. The edge of your rack.

"So. She's your soulmate. It's normal to…have these feelings."

Feelings? He didn’t have feelings. “She’s nothin’ to me.” His alpha just wanted its knot wet. Just because you were his soulmate didn’t change a thing. He couldn’t have you. Any piece of wanting he had for you was superficial. Pure lust at best.

"Okay. Go have fun with your hand, then. See if I care," Sam said, right on cue.

"Shut up, bitch," Dean whispered.

And, "Jerk," came the usual retort.

He rolled his eyes.

With his palm still holding the weight of himself, he stepped over to the shower and turned the handle as far as it would go. The taps gurgled and air spat from the spouts in the metal head before the hot stream of water burst through.

His brow quirked. He wasn’t the only thing pent up around here.

His boots were the first to go, kicking them off to thud against the tiles. Followed by his socks, pants, boxers and top layers. A heavy jacket, his current favourite flannel and black undershirt to match. All discarded to reveal the thing he’d been dreading to see.

A soul mark. Your initials there, as expected, above his anti-possession tattoo.

He stepped up to the basin and the small rectangular mirror covered in rot and took a closer look. His fingers traced the surrounding skin, still holding a reddish hue.

It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t unnoticeable either, which meant yours was, too.

Had you felt them yet? Seen them? Touched them? Had your mate?

His heart thumped deep in his chest. If he had a mate and she came home with another alpha’s initials on her body, how would he react, ‘cause he doubted he’d be happy. Angry? Maybe. Calm? Definitely not.

But he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t do that to himself. In his mind, you were loved and well taken care of by whoever he was, just as you deserved and he didn’t.

Whatever his name, he wasn’t angry. Whatever his name, it didn’t matter. He hadn’t bothered to find out thirty minutes ago, and he never would. Allowing himself to keep only your image and your scent that lingered on his clothes.

What was wrong with him?

Under the warm pressure, he washed the blood, sweat and dirt from the hunt off his broad frame. A generous amount of Sam’s body wash helped.

He closed his eyes and brought his soap covered fingers back to pump his hardened flesh as visions of your mouth wrapped around it urged him on.

He twisted his wrist and grunted. He’d seen your hands. That unscathed skin and pretty manicured nails would look better than what he was working with. Your tongue, licking his head and shaft just the way he liked it in tandem, more so.

He’d grip his hands through your hair and encourage you to take him deeper. His tip would hit the back of your throat and you’d gag, but damn, it’d be sexy. Sweet like velvet.

Fuck.

Dean braced himself against the tiles and pumped harder. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. His knot was thickening already, and grunts escaped his mouth in time to his long and precise strokes.

His hand would grip your hips over the wall he was using. The way you’d swayed them, mesmerised him, carrying you well. Those legs they were attached to would lift nicely over his shoulders, or squeeze perfectly ‘round his waist. He’d pump into your tight, slick-lined channel either way.

You’d moan for him. In that silky smooth way you’d spoken to him when you’d thanked him for saving you. Your body would exude a comforting warmth, just as it had in his arms when he’d rescued you.

The hunt had been rough on his body, but you’d be gentle - when you wanted to be.

Your hands would explore every inch of him. They’d pinch his nipples with soft fingers, rolling and twisting, pulling when you dared. Those same manicured nails would dig into his skin and leave perfect crescent moon shapes along his back.

His own fingernails dragged down his chest to mimic his mind. Over the tiny nubs they went, moving down to dance around his navel. They teased the taut flesh of his hips and scoured back over his shoulders where he imagined you’d cling to him.

If he could reach his back, he’d trail them down his spine. He’d grab his ass with both hands if it weren’t for one being occupied with drawing out the toe curling sensations on his dick.

Your scent would take over the floral notes in the soap. Dean had experienced nothing like it. He wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by it and you. If he could help it, his favourite flannel would remain as it was, unwashed, but cherished forever.

He’d save it for the next time he allowed his rut. When his balls grew heavy and his skin flamed molten hot.

If only he could sink his knot into you just once. His hand just wasn’t the same. He knew it, and the strokes he made were now shallow and sloppy as he neared his release.

“M’mega,” Dean panted. Ears hopeful to hear you calling him Alpha in return. Just once.

His fingers fumbled over the base he’d push inside you, forcing his knot as deep as it would go. He’d groan, and you’d moan as you clamped down around him, and only when you’d taken your own pleasure would he spill into you. Thick ropes of cum would paint your walls and mix with your slick. Lock you in place. Maybe give him a pup or two.

“Fuck,” he growled, spraying the tiles before him. Pups? No, he didn’t need that, and the remainder of his load thankfully dribbled over his fingers, dripping down to the shower floor below.

It wasn’t how he wanted it to be or how he thought it would be with you, but it was the relief he needed to get him through the thought that he’d be leaving this town, and you, the next day.

When Dean stepped out of the bathroom, he didn’t even look Sam in the eye to start with.

He dumped his clothes on the bed and headed straight for the fridge in the front corner of the room where the six-pack he’d bought that morning still waited for him to take another load off.

He twisted the cap, flinging it at the trash, and took his first swig before slumping into the closest chair opposite Sam. The stale air in the cushion squeaked under his weight and he smirked at the sound. “Sammy. What’d you eat?”

“Great,” Sam muttered over the top of his computer screen. Though his tone was anything but. “You ready to talk?”

“Nope.” Dean was indignant, and he popped the end of the word in finality. He took another swig and kept the lip close to his. If he was drinking, he couldn’t be talking, and that suited him fine.

Out of sight, out of mind? Out of mouth, out of… no wait. That wasn’t quite right either, and he flicked his head and the thought away.

Sam leaned back in his chair and scratched at his long locks. “You’re wearing the same shirt you gave her.”

“Okay, mom.”

Mary was still a sore spot for both of them, but when Sam insisted on talking about this fresh one, he had it coming. Who was he? The clothes police? “She only borrowed it. It’s still clean.” Dean shrugged.

“Smells like her, too.”

And he’d had enough. He clunked the glass bottle on the table and leapt to his feet. The beer would have to wait. He suddenly needed air, and the cheap brew was shit, anyway.

He walked back to the bed and snatched his jacket, flinging it around his shoulders.

A wave of your scent lifted to his nostrils as it settled on his back, and he closed his eyes.

Dammit. It was only cinnamon. Nothing special. A simple spice. So why the hell was it affecting him? Soulmate or no, he didn’t even know you, and he scowled and turned on his heels.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, but Dean was already on his way out the door.

It slammed in response as he stepped out into the night and looked around.

Now what?

Getting away from Sammy was one thing, but there was nothing to do in this town. He’d checked out the local nightlife the first night they’d arrived, and there was none… but you.

Haha. Nope. He saw what he did there.

This was fucked. He was fucked. No. Wait. He’d jerked you out of his system.

His hands tugged the collar of his jacket up around his neck, then found their way into its pockets. They fumbled over loose change in one and Baby’s keys in the other.

She was waiting for him on the other side of the lot. Her sleek black paint beckoned him to sit behind the wheel, but he turned the other way. He wasn’t one to wallow in self pity, but he would tonight.

He sunk further into his clothes and stomped across the gravel, moving towards the road.

The air was cool and crisp in his lungs. The light from the broken street lamps dim in his eyes and barely enough to show him a way, but it was perfect. Closed shop fronts meant fewer people and fewer people meant less crap to impede your scent on his clothes.

Your scent.

Yeah, okay. He was fucking stupid. Delusional even. Wallowing like this over someone he’d just met? He didn’t know you besides what he’d read on the police report, and that was a fat load of nothing.

A mate, a job, an apartment. Parents interstate.

He wouldn’t have even met you if he and Sam hadn’t taken this case. Wouldn’t have known his soul mate was mated. Wouldn’t have realised he had one. Him. Dean Winchester? With an omega as respectable and normal as you?

Yeah. This was working well. Why not think about what you were doing right now? Imagine you with him, curled up beside him on a nice comfy couch in your cozy apartment? A bed. Your nest? Warm blankets and all that other fluffy crap omegas insisted on buying themselves. The scowl he’d been wearing since Sam had tried talking to him deepened.

He wasn’t right for you, but he was a mate just the same. Your mate. And you deserved one when Dean didn’t want you. When he couldn’t afford to have you in his life. Yet, his mind kept drawing him back in. Teasing him, taunting him, dangling the golden carrot before him. Tempting him to seek you out.

Stupid brain. He should’ve bailed the second he’d dropped you off. Collected the gear and headed straight home for the bunker, but no, he just had to jack off. He’d caved. And now he was wandering around this god forsaken town because he refused to man up and just talk to Sam about it.

He couldn’t turn back, though. Not now. He couldn’t face his baby brother, just like he couldn’t face the truth that continued to dangle just beyond his conscience’s grasp.

So he continued wandering instead because that was helpful. He’d solve everything by scuffing his boots over the gravel, cement, and the odd patch of grass that covered the ground, dragging his bow legs and pride behind him.

His feet directed him left, then right. Everything he passed looked the same.

Buildings merged. Blurred in the darkness. White paint turned grey along with everything else that wasn’t lit by storefronts and their after hours emergency lights. He had no idea where he was besides having Baby’s scent behind him, and more crappy town in front.

But then an apartment block came into view that was familiar, even late at night.

Yes. The street. That car. The park on the other side of it. Fuck. How’d he even manage it? Of all the places he could’ve gone, he’d arrived back where he’d last seen you, only he wasn’t looking at a reflection in the rearview.

And he was no longer alone, either.

Forever the hunter, Dean sniffed the air, scenting the figure he’d spotted on the bench under the tree, and straight away, cinnamon collected in his nose. But so did the metallic tang of blood.

No, no. ‘No fucking way.’ You had a couple of scratches earlier, some bruising maybe, but this was different, and Dean’s fists clenched. Nails dug into the callouses lining his palms. This was fresh and teed with the stench of an alphas knot.

‘M’mega,” his inner alpha rumbled, and dammit, he’d worked so hard to keep the son of a bitch at bay. But just as it would if Sam were injured, or anyone else in their accidental pack, the scent of your blood infuriated him, and he found his feet tumbling underneath towards you.

He raced down the sidewalk. Rushed across the road. His boots pounded over the cement and bitumen with thuds that slapped his ears and jolted his legs.

What the hell were you doing out here? You shouldn’t be out here after what had just happened to you. Most civilians knew nothing of his world and the job he did in it, but you did, and you should know better. Know the dangers of being out here alone at night and…and…crying?

A lump formed in his throat. Why were you crying? Why hadn’t you showered, for that matter? Your clothes were the same ones you’d worn earlier. He noticed that the second he pulled up in front of you.

No jacket, no sweater. Shirt torn and dirt covered, but this wasn’t you. This wasn’t the omega on the police report. She was radiant and confident, even at the rundown factory. Yet now, besides the scent and the outline of your body, you were no longer there.

Why?

“Where’s your mate, omega?” Dean cursed under his breath the second the words left his mouth. His inner alpha could gnaw away at his resolve as much as it liked, but you’d never be his.

“What’re you doing here?” Your sniffle was quick and quiet. You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and looked up.

He didn’t like the tone in your voice, nor the fear that spiked in your scent when he’d mentioned him. “I asked you first,” he said and moved closer to examine your features.

Your eye was bruised and would turn black. Your mouth, barely lit in the shadows, still shimmered with blood from the cut on your bottom lip.

You didn’t have these injuries before, and though he was seething under the skin, he did his best to rein it in. With a shaky hand, he reached for your cheek. Brushed the tear you’d missed away with his thumb, and though he knew the answer, asked, “Who did this to you?”

He clenched his jaw when you shook your head.

“No one. I fell,” you said. Sucked at lying, too, but it wasn’t the time. He needed to get you outta here before your dickbag mate showed his face.

“Do you have pups?” Minus traces of an alphas ball sack, yours was the only scent surrounding you. He hoped its ‘cause you had none.

Your eyes were sullen when you shook your head,l again, and Dean’s heart raced.

For the second time since he’d known you, he lifted you in his arms and brought your tense form to his chest. You were chilled and weary. Not the way his beautiful omega should ever be around him.

His?

Fuck.

Dean was playing a dangerous game, yet his feet moved under him, towards his motel, and further away from the park where somewhere nearby, he knew you lived with the other alpha.

He didn’t want a mate, but he was fine with taking someone else’s.

Consequences be damned.

Next Chapter

We’ll be following Dean’s perspective for some time, but we will get into the readers head eventually, too. It takes two to tango after all 😉 I hope you enjoyed chapter one!

Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated. They help turn my retail working frowns upside down.

Chapter 2: Harbouring - 28/02

“I still don’t know your name.” His boyish chuckle tethered off as your lip curled. “I’m Dean. The, ah, W stands for Winchester.”

He should’ve known yours would suit you. Everything else about you had him enamoured, so why wouldn’t it? It was perfect, swirling through the spaces in his mind and touching his lips with a pleasurable rumble when he repeated it back to you.

“Will you let me clean you up?” When you nodded, he gave you a single one back. “Then we’re gonna need a few things first.”

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[princessofghosts-posts]

People always talking about Percy and Jason parallelism as if Nico and Percy don't have the same thing.

Let me explain:

Both are a child of the Big Three,only difference is that Percy is the forbidden one while Nico isn't.

Both are extremely powerful and were ostracized by the other demigods for this,only difference is that Percy's mistreatment wasn't as bad or long as Nico's.

Both were in the Lotus,only difference is that Percy stayed for a couple of days,Nico for years.

Both are extremely skilled with swordsmanship,with Percy being at the top.

Both have a very unique sword with a feature of being able to always be with them. Raptide is a pen that will always come back to Percy,while Nico's sword can appear from the shadows with his command.

Both have a sister that they will die for, without a second question asked.

Both were ready to end themselves for their sibling. During SoM,when Percy thought that Tyson died with Clarisse's ship being destroyed,he wished he could drown but couldn't because he's a son of Poseidon. During BotL,Nico tried to switch his souls for the one of his sister (only good thing Minos did was to tell him that Hades won't accept it) knowing full well the consequences.

Based of the point before,both are extremely suicidal. Percy wished he could drown multiple time,and went along with Polybotes's poison only because he thought he deserved to die. Nico doesn't see the value in his life and go on the most suicidal solo-quest ever with the awareness that he might die,and he doesn't care or think the others don't.

In HoO Hazel think how both Percy and Jason are just waiting for a monster too strong to defeat,that can kill them. Nico isn't to far off from this vision too,since in BoO he was ready to end it all,be it by his travel of wanting to kill Octavian.

Based of the other point,they are probably both depressed,with Percy masking his with humor (similar to Leo) or avoiding thinking about it,and Nico is carrying it on his sleeves,fully accepting it.

Poseidon and Hades tried to keep their family safe,proposing to build palaces in their domains,basically the same place where their wives lives with them,so that they can live in peace and Zeus wouldn't know about them.

Sally and Maria rejected the idea,deciding to raise their children with them despite the difficulties and dangers.

Both have a good relationship with their mother,the problem is that Nico can't remember much of her.

Both are scared of their father domains (all of the kids of the Big 3,both romans and greeks,are). In MoA,when Percy was visiting the aquarium with Frank and the tank broke,he thought he was going to drown (ironic,isn't it? The guy that wanted to drown now is scared of it) before remembering he is a child of Poseidon (again,ironic.). His fear was caused by Gaia,when during SoN,she made him sink into quicksand and Hazel had to save him before they got to the boss battle. In BoO,during their trip with the Statue,Nico was actively fading away (and dying),to the point that mortals and demigods could pass through his body. He almost become one with the shadows,the same shadows he use every time he has to travel. Untill then he was comfortable in being in the shadows,because of CHB attitude regarding him,but after that? He didn't saw them in the same way.

The romans don't pay homage to,or don't respect that much,their fathers. Both the temples of Pluto and Neptune at the CJ are in very bad shape,even with a daughter of Pluto living there.

Both are an active part of the two Great Prophecies,with Percy being the prophecy child and a part of the Seven,while Nico does the heavy lifting on the sidelines as a support character. (Both of the time they won thanks to his help).

Chronos wanted them both (and Thalia) on his side. He tormented all of them,but Percy and Nico (and Thalia) stayed loyal to their fathers no matter what.

Both can get along pretty well with their divine families.

Poseidon and Hades have rooms in their palace only for them,when they stay with them or came for a visit; Amphitrite and Persephone (and Demeter) don't mind their presence that much when they are in the palace.

Both are ready to kill for their loved one,especially their partners. (also Annabeth and Will being blond,when Percy and Nico hair's black>>>>>)

Both are prince of their fathers's kingdom (same for the others Big 3 kids) but noble titles aren't a thing in the demigods world (I will forever be pissed about this)

Both Poseidon and Hades care about them in their own strange and limiting ways. At the same time they both fucked them up with their horrible communication skills (The price you pay for being alive??? Bianca should be alive instead of Nico??? Fuck them both for this).

Nico and Percy are the only one with a good relationship (for demigods standard) with their divine parent and families,both in the Big 3 kids club and for the rest of the demigods's population. (the children of Dionysus and Apollo too).

Both went to Tartarus and had their mind fucked up by the gods that were there (Nico needs to see Dionysus on almost a daily basis otherwise he will go insane??? Percy was ready to kill a goodness???). Nyx appeared to both of them (get her away from Nico-) and their powers evolved.

Lot of trauma from all the prophecies and wars they went through.

First impression of their divine sibling was horrible. Triton was extremely judgmental of Percy,without even knowing him,while Melinoë was straight up trauma for Nico.

Both were betrayed by their teacher. Luke gave Percy sword lessons before he left for his first quest,so much so that during SoN,even without memory,Luke's voice reminded him what to do during the war games. Minos was ready to sell Nico to the enemy after he taught him everything he knew about the rituals to invoke the spirits,and went in the Labyrinth with him.

Both lost their memories,Percy because of Hera and Nico because of Hades. Only difference is that Percy memories returned,while Nico will never have all of them back (like Jason).

In their own POVs they don't talk really highly of themselves,and most of the time think about how they messed up certain things,and how other people could do better than them. The few times they feel confident about their abilities? Bad shit happens.

Ragarding the point before of this,both have a low self-esteem.

In the other characters POVs,we see how people actually see them. Hazel almost mistakes Percy for a god because of how handsome,loyal (probably also why Annabeth,Nico,Rachel,Calypso and Reyna fell for him) and powerful he is. Reyna think that Nico's surname give him justice because he looks like an angel (he also pulled Will Solace with being rarely at CHB during that time) when he smile,and is extremely powerful.

Do I need to continue? There are probably so many other similarities between them but I think you get the point. While Percy and Jason might be two faces the same coin,Nico and Percy are basically the same face.

All of the Big 3 children have similarities or have parallelism to each other: Thalia and Hazel (both come back from the dead and had to readjust to the years that passed, everything they know was now a distant memory); Jason and Bianca (both died when they were starting to figure out their life,after their memory loss); and there are others matches too: Thalia and Percy,Jason and Hazel,Jason and Nico,Bianca and Percy,Thalia and Nico,etc...

But Nico and Percy are just so similar to each other that sometimes it's hurt. They can't even have a good interaction most of the time because trauma is part of their relationship.

[tokiro07]

Ichi the Witch ch.22 thoughts

[Dess' Contract's Got Some Mighty Fine Print]

(Topics: speculation - worldbuilding/narrative progression, character analysis - Desscaras/Ichi, thematic analysis - Family)

Before I get into the extremely enticing character implications of this chapter, I have a quick worldbuilding question:

Where...did the spell for this contract come from?

We know that magical items exist such as the leg-booster boots, but it hasn't really been delved into yet how such things are made. Do they have a pre-existing Magik's spell applied to them, or is there a unique method of creating a spell from scratch and embuing it into an item?

If it's the latter then creating a magic contract should be easy enough, you just draft up paper that enforces the stipulations of the words written on it, easy peasy. If it's the former, though, what Magik has that ability? Can any given contract be created, or is it specific to the Mentor-Pupil Blood Contract?

It doesn't really matter, and I only just thought of this question while writing this review rather than agonizing over it since reading the chapter, but it's still the kind of minor inconsistency that just barely holds this series back from being everything I know it can be

As for what it is, though, this chapter's glimpse into the ongoing character study of Desscaras and her relationship with Ichi only further solidifies this as my current favorite in Jump's roster

The Mother Who Stepped Up

There is an incredible amount of nuance to Desscaras' motivations for making such a dangerous contract with Ichi

First and foremost, as she tells Ichi, it's her way of taking responsibility for his life being uprooted and threatened. If she had been able to find a way to circumvent Uroro's trial, if she'd actually kept Ichi a secret from Mantinel, if she'd taken any other path, Ichi might not be set to die, and she can't pretend that isn't the case

Normally, Desscaras comes off as laidback and irresponsible, but I think that's more about things like navigating bureaucratic red tape than it is about peoples' wellbeing. When push comes to shove, Desscaras does actively fulfill her duties without complaint, it's just that to her, her duties are about fighting monsters and protecting people, not answering work e-mails or filing reports

By putting Ichi in this situation, she has endangered him, going directly against her own principals. This contract is a way of making amends for that, a statement that she isn't trifling with his life and takes his safety extremely seriously. If he should die, then she will repay his loss in kind

This leads into the reason she gave to Monegold and Shirabedonna: that she doesn't want to have peace that requires someone else's sacrifice, least of all a child's

The One Who Walks Deeper into Omelas

This is Desscaras' direct answer to and rejection of the Omelas Child conundrum: if she can't stop the child's suffering, she won't just walk away either - she'll help support the peace. This way the child doesn't suffer alone, and has some kind of happiness to show for it, while also allowing her to take an active role in protecting everyone else

After all, it's not that Desscaras is choosing the child over everyone else. Everyone deserves peace and happiness, it's just that with the knowledge that the child is the only one who doesn't get it, she'd never be able to appreciate her own again. By voluntarily choosing to bear some of the world's weight, Desscaras can feel like she's earned whatever peace she manages to take from it, secure in the knowledge that she did what no one else would: gave some peace, no matter how small, to the suffering child

This also serves to act as an indictment of Monegold's leadership, as while she definitely objected to Jikishirone's prophecy, she still kind of just resigned herself to it. She heard the prophecy, got angry, and...didn't do anything else. She may have been trying to think of a way, but as I said last week, it's just generally accepted that Jiki's words will come to pass unless she gives an alternate path - since the only alternate was the destruction of the world, Monegold likely wouldn't have made a real effort to avert the fate ascribed to Ichi

Now, though, Monegold's greatest asset has just said two devastating things to her face: 1) "if he dies, I die;" and 2) "good luck sleeping at night." Desscaras' actions have put into perspective for Monegold what a post-Ichi world will look like for her, which hopefully will give her the kick in the pants she needs to actually do something about it

At the very least, it ensures that Monegold won't get in the way of Desscaras doing something about it

Blood of the Covenant

For all of the practical and philosophical reasons Desscaras has, there's really only one that truly matters, one statement that Desscaras wants to make above all others: that she cares about Ichi

She wants Ichi to stay in her life, to take care of himself, to live

And if he won't do any of those things for his own sake, then by god, he'll do it for hers

"If you die, then I die" is an excellent inversion of Ichi's Death for Death; whereas it usually means "a kill for a kill," it now means "you are no longer playing with your life alone." If Ichi is reckless and charges in without a second thought on the basis that his life is going to end sooner or later anyway, then he now runs the risk of getting Desscaras killed along with him, which by his own philosophy would make him a murderer

This pulls double duty both by incentivizing him to stay safe and by showing him that someone wants him to stay safe

When his parents left him in the woods with a knife, they wordlessly said to him "we want you to die, but we're too cowardly to kill you ourselves. Starve, get killed by a beast, or kill yourself, we don't care, just do it away from us"

Desscaras' contract, meanwhile, says just the opposite. "I want you to live, and I'll fight to make sure you do. Live how you like, go where you like, do what you like, but whatever you do, just promise to come back to me"

I don't know if Desscaras knows Ichi's past; they've certainly had the opportunity to discuss it off-screen, but it's never been stated that they've opened up to each other about that sort of thing. My instinct is that she has no idea what this means to him, only that it means everything to her

Ichi, meanwhile, certainly has no idea about Libro, and likely can't comprehend why Desscaras would want someone like him as family. But what it means to her isn't his concern right now, because it means everything to him

They have no idea what the other has lost, only what they themselves have, and what this contract represents to each of them is the chance to get it back. Ichi doesn't know why Desscaras wants to give it to him, and Desscaras doesn't know why Ichi accepted, but both of them now have someone who has implicitly told them that they are willing to fill the hole in their lives, and that's all that matters

This is also why the little matter of Ichi being unwittingly enslaved is so easy to sweep under the rug

Siblings, Siblings

Naturally, once Ichi learns that the contract has forcibly made him subservient to Desscaras, he becomes indignant and demands that it be undone. He was tricked, after all, and he doesn't want to follow unreasonable orders

However, once Desscaras is out of the room, Ichi doesn't ruminate on his indentured servitude, that's the furthest thing from his mind. Instead, it is Desscaras' original words that resound in his heart: "a home is a place you can come back to, no matter where in the world you are." Even if she threw in a major downside right at the end, Desscaras' true message has been received loud and clear

It also remains to be seen just how far Desscaras is going to go with her ability to lobby commands at Ichi. Honestly, her commands so far have been pretty standard fair for a mentor - "cook for me, clean for me, learn the more menial aspects of our trade." I don't see her extorting favors out of him or anything, just little things to make her own life less stressful or to teach him a good work ethic

Plus there's the fact that her gloating was sandwiched between her initial pitch and her justification to Monegold. While the reveal of the slavery clause may seem to invalidate the sentiment of what she told Ichi directly, her confrontation with Monegold and soulful assertion that she sees Ichi as family confirms that nothing she said was a lie

What this tells me is that she never intended to pull a fast one on Ichi, nor was she being opportunistic to use her newfound power as a bonus to all of her previous motivations. No, I think she was just...embarrassed

As I said last week, Desscaras isn't one to be vulnerable. She's the Strongest Witch, and that comes with the expectation that she has no weakness

Like I said, Ichi doesn't know about Libro. He doesn't know that he's filling a void for Desscaras the way she is for him, and she doesn't want him to know

She doesn't want him to know how much she cares, she just wants him to feel cared for. So to hide the truth, she turns around and laughs in his face. She presents it as transactional, the void in Ichi's life being filled in exchange for free labor, when in reality the emotional aspect is completely mutual

And I think on some level, Ichi already has that figured out. Like I said, he moves on from it pretty fast and is able to smile warmly at the thought of having a home despite Desscaras' nasty attitude. Whether Ichi has any direct experience with family relationships in the first place, I think Ichi understands already that this sort of teasing, capricious behavior is just how Desscaras is and was all part of what he was signing up anyway

He understands that being family means seeing more of each other, for better and worse. Everything he knows Desscaras to be, lazy and selfish, won't cease to be true just because they share blood now, and if anything will be amplified. But he'll also see the Desscaras who was honest with him, who offered to provide for him, who wants to be with him. I think Ichi has known Desscaras long enough already that he recognizes when she's being genuine and when she's being defensive, so he knows that when she calls him her "dog," it's to guard her heart rather than to put him down

With this in mind, I think it's quite likely that "Family" is going to become one of the running major themes across the story, and that the relationship between Ichi and Desscaras alone won't be the only angle we approach it from

The Desscaras Bunch

Though it's been a hot minute since she had any real dialogue, Kumugi is still a member of Team Desscaras, and one who will certainly be used to further the Family theme. Her backstory has already been established to center around her family's dismissal of her abilities, making her a perfect parallel to Ichi: where Ichi's family abandoned him physically, Kumugi's abandoned her emotionally

Ichi's acknowledgment of Kumugi already shows how he can fill her void, and Desscaras' forceful interjection into conversation with Kumugi shows how Kumugi can fill their voids in turn. Both of them have an established dynamic with her that is set to be explored as the story goes on, and the interplay between their dynamics when together and alone offers even more opportunities for depth and growth

Even Uroro is likely to be a part of this family. Right now he's antagonistic with Ichi and Desscaras, but he did once ask Kumugi to be friends. Sure, he definitely had some ulterior motive, but it shows that he has the capacity to interact with members of the group outside of just Ichi, and therefore won't be confined to only one or two dynamics

And of course, Nishi has no plans to stop with only four members of the group. As Jiki's newest prophecy foretells, they're about to add a fourth "stalwart companion" to the team

I'm not going to go too far into speculating on this character since we know so little, but we do know two things: 1) that they violently hunt Magiks, and 2) they're apparently a man

The Arc Where a Man--

Viz always cuts out the editors' notes, but as you may have seen other folks mention already, in the original Japanese, he's referred to as "'a man' who tramples on Magiks." The quotes are suspicious, but they could just be there to highlight his gender rather than call it into question

While it is possible that he's actually a woman, for the moment I'm going to operate under the assumption that he's a man solely because I think it presents a more interesting angle to explore the world from

Case in point: I do not think that this person is a Male Witch like Ichi. Rather, I think that he wants to be, and is hunting Magiks to see if he can find a spell that he can actually use

Remember, in ch.1, it was stated that there were a handful of prerequisites that Ichi had to meet to use Magic:

Facing a Magik that allowed a man to pass its trial

A body and mind well-trained enough to handle its usage

The capacity to acquire a Magik at all

The first criteria is actually pretty easy - most Magiks' trials don't actually disqualify men in the first place! It's just that no man would ever try because it's "widely believed" that men can't use Magic. So all that's really needed is for a man to make an attempt rather than for the Magik to allow it

The second is also a no-brainer - look at this guy's bod! He's not excessively jacked or anything, but he's definitely drawn to look like a trained fighter, and even if we ignore his design, he's standing in the viscera of a giant frog! He ripped that thing apart with his bare hands! He's clearly at least comparable to Ichi in physical strength if not more, and what a "trained mind" means is still unclear even for Ichi, so we won't worry about it

All that's left then is to actually acquire a Magik, and the only way to know if you can is to try. So, by shaking down Magiks and asking for their trials, this guy increases his odds of finding a Magik that he's capable of acquiring simply through quantity

However, I don't think it's a matter of compatibility. If it were as simple as the Witch and Magik being a match, Togeice probably wouldn't have been able to acquire Macilvaine who clashed with her persona and aesthetic. No, I think it's a lot more fundamental than that:

I think that men might literally lack a Magic Circle

The way it's portrayed, it seems like a...cavity within the soul, a hollowed-out portion of the self meant for housing Magiks. For whatever reason, whether it's biological or spiritual, most men simply don't have Magic Circles, while women inherently do. Or, perhaps, men simply have too small of Magic Circles to be able to fit Magiks in the first place

Maybe that's why Ichi was able to do it: because he was either born with or otherwise created a Magic Circle inside of himself. Maybe he accidentally stumbled across the method to do so. Maybe countless men have and have simply never tried to use it because they had no idea they had! Maybe Minakata somehow implanted one into him, who knows?

I don't expect to get the answers to this one anytime soon, but if this new recruit is a man, I think he'll be an important piece in the puzzle for us to understand this element of the worldbuilding. I think he'll also provide a unique fighting style among the cast, being solely physical as opposed to Desscaras' mostly magical and Ichi's mixed styles, plus parallels to everyone else's narratives. The one I'd be most excited to see is comparing his attempts to overcome a perceived limitation to Kumugi's resignation to being incapable, but I'm not going to hold my breath just in case

Buuut if they are a woman, I'm certainly not going to complain, especially with those cute freckles!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[thousandyearphantombunker]

And then there are personality disorders and really bad OCD (the kind where if you tell people your thoughts they might feel compelled to get you fired or call the police) and schizophrenia that are demonized- people who claim they don't have feelings or they brought their pain upon themselves or literally making comparisons between people with these disorders and demons/monsters from the bible

So in short we have

Sexy pretty emo problems until it actually disables you/you don't have a relatable or tragic reason to be upset

'tragic but poetic something tragic must have happened- wtfdym its just a chemical imbalance and that embarrassing issues pop up? No you better have a good reason and no gross issues like ibs or bad hygiene! Wdym that you want to get help without people taking your autonomy away? That's what makes you beautiful and if it's bad enough that it's no longer attractive then you deserve to be locked up! Your trauma (and if you don't have trauma your just whining) makes you special and cool and talented and you will lose all your talents if you get help which should be reserved for when it's no longer sexy/when it's an emergency'

Smol bean/spoiled brat eternal child who we can dismiss at anytime no matter how real the problem is and we'll just shake jingly keys in your face to act like it's fixed/distract you

'your a baby. Your issues are trivial and your lives aren't complex because your a toddler- here's an apply juice go count to 5 and your in time out for throwing a tantrum- your problem isn't serious your crying over spilt milk and imaginary problems- it's so disappointing you'll never amount to anything and even if you do your life will always be simpler and shittier than mine and I'll get angry at you for trying to do adult things or learn stuff outside of what I deem appropriate/within the capabilities I decided you have - I'll tell you what's easy and hard and worth being upset over also if your a big dude and have these issues you are creepy and dangerous and I will call the police on you <3'

And finally we have 'We could see you get lynched/burnt at the stake and we'd justify it and then make a support group for the person who did it/all the articles about the disorder are for dealing with you while providing no help for the person dealing with the disorder'

'your a monster. Clearly you having no empathy or hearing voices etc means your gonna rape and cannibalize children. In the Bible God said it's okay to enslave you because you are in leagues with Satan. One of the symptoms of x means your a pathological liar I'm a survivor of narcissistic abuse and that criminal on the news has a psychotic disorder- you clearly weren't abused your lying. You better get out of our support group for victims of abuse from people like you-also I'm telling your boss about your diagnosis we can't have you serving fast food you'll probably poison it and molest anyone that comes in- because having a flat affect/paranoia means you'll definitely do that cause your hiding something! You existed with demon disorder not sorry about the fact you got abused as a kid cause I know your lying and you manipulated your abuser into hitting you for attention at age 11'

A common societal trend I’ve noticed is quite prevalent is the romanticization of certain mental disorders and the infantilization of others. This trend thoroughly befouls our perception of people with such disorders, and in certain circumstances this can be quite harmful.

Disorders such as depression, OCD, and, even to a certain extent, anxiety are all heavily romanticized in literature and media. Characters with these conditions are constantly sought after, and seen as beautifully broken. Their suffering is seen in itself as an art of its own.

Whereas characters, as well as people, who are on the autism spectrum or have ADHD, are very often infantilized, their behaviors being described as childlike. They may be seen as annoying, bothersome, or just a pain to deal with in general. Their pain is not seen as poetic, but essentially meaningless, because their plights seem so trivial. If they are doted on, it’s often demeaning.

I’m certainly not blameless in this cultural phenomenon, but I do believe that it’s truly messed up. I wish to understand why mass behaviors such as these exist. Why do we perceive certain conditions in different lights, and is it possible that society’s preconceived notion of these disorders can change?

[yashley]

[lord-squiggletits]

Y'know I kind of feel like when Megatron killed Tarn and said 'I want you to spend your final moments thinking of this: that everything you've done has been for nothing' he was kind of self-projecting onto Tarn? Mainly because at Megatron's statue, M and T had a conversation where Tarn explicitly asked if all the Decepticons in service to Megatron died for nothing, if HE did everything he did for nothing. (And I think M even gave an answer along the lines of 'idk I think we basically did'). And then after Megatron killed the DJD and Rodimus teleported in to rescue him, there was that silent moment where Megatron just stared at Rodimus not moving at all before he finally took his hand at the last moment.

It honestly feels to me like for a while, Megatron fully intended to murder-suicide himself. Murder the DJD, his monsters and his creation, and then take himself out alongside them, because he is also a monster. Because he also feels that everything he's ever done has been for nothing.

Goddamn it's no wonder I liked that scene so much LMAO, as someone who thinks villain Megatron > Autobot Megatron, literally one of his key traits is that Megatron basically took his pain/trauma/worldview and used it to lash out at the universe and try to subjugate it to his vision. So the fact that he took his own pain and brutally murdered the DJD while telling them the very same thing that puts him through so much agony is so very deliciously ironic. And a return, however brief, to the Megatron characterization that I know and love.

[margindoodles2407]

blame @seeking-elsewhither for this one. it's echo time and i'm having thoughts (tm)

[mad-hunts]

i know this being my first post OOC since i have come back from my hiatus might be semi-random, but honestly, all i have been thinking about for about ten minutes or so for some reason (nah, not for some reason LOLLL it's because i actually watched it recently) is that if barton were at that party that lex luthor was hosting that batman attended in zack snyder's justice league... i'm sorry, but he would literally set a record for how fast someone can chug all of the champagne at a party JSJSJ or literally ANY party with lex luthor at it because something about his presence just makes Barton Not Want to be Sober NGL y'all ☠️

[pagesofkenna]

i wanted to make a post about a thing but the more i think about it the more i want to say and it's just going to end up being a big ramble essay, so instead i'll just give the thesis statement, thusly:

as the #1 Ratgrinders Apologist (self-appointed), of course they're the final boss fight to the death. i expected nothing less and the people trying to make discourse about it are ignoring the entire context of this being a Dungeons and Dragons game

[chryseis]

happy saturday evening besties

[asordidbarwere]

first valentine's day in a long time that I have someone worth doting on and I'm wasting it feeling like shit about myself and my identity and everything else

[hermitsdump]

chat am I cooked

[coinsweepermaster]

Bela should have either came back in the finale (15x19 was the finale what are you talking about) and saved everyone by shooting Chuck in the back with some magic gun she "procured" or came back in Season 12 by breaking into the British MoL facility to stop Lady Bevell from brainwashing Mary. Either way, it should have involved her shooting someone and one upping the Winchesters as usual

[txrks]

Tag Dump 1

[lennonhead]

so, now that I can type without getting super dizzy, can we talk about Hachiware turning into a monster

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Parade Performer

Dpxdc Prompt #18

Every year Gotham hosts a parade where performers dress up as Gotham villains and go riding on a parade float around town while gothamites throw anything they can manage at them. These performers are paid an obscene amount for going through the abuse of every person living in Gotham. The more hated the villain the more the performers are paid, so obviously being the Joker pays the most.

Though, this doesn't matter much because every year the Joker kills the person that plays him during the parade.

So obviously Danny Fenton, a broke runaway that has already died once decides to be the Joker for the Gotham Villain's Parade.

Danny hates clowns.

Everyone in Gotham hates clowns, so he isn't special in that regard. No, he's special in that his hate for clowns does not stem from the Joker.

It's that specialty, along with the fact that he's used to people hating him his home town never really liked his protection, no matter how much they needed his help , and that he needs money to help him survive Gotham that has lead him to become a parade performer.

He joins a very short line of people who are desperate enough to dress as the worst Gotham has to offer.

He's the only one that's there for the role of the Joker.

All the people there look at him like he's a dead man walking.

He sits down and allows the makeup artist to turn him into an unrecognizable monster. She looks at Danny like she is stabbing a knife into his heart—which for all intents and purposes she is.

As he stares into the mirror he allows a change in his previous statement. He was turned into a monster for sure, but there was nothing unrecognizable about the man that had hurt every single person in Gotham City in some way.

He steps onto the float and prepares himself mentally. Whatever they say, whatever they do, they don't mean it about him. They are just taking out on him what they can't do to the man that has ruined so many lives.

Danny stands still as rotten tomatoes are thrown his way. He stands as still as a statue for all of the insults. The only time he moves is when knives and bullets rain upon him, he doesn't plan to die, not to misplaced anger.

He gets his money, it's enough that could last him into retirement. It doesn't matter too much as he is kidnapped 3 days later.

The Joker beats him with a crowbar, smashes all of his bones into pieces, and televises the whole event.

"This is what happens to those that mock me," he says, "There's only one Joker and that is me."

Danny knows he won't die, he doesn't have bones for the crowbar to break.

Red Hood doesn't know that. Jason Todd just sees a desperate kid that's about to get killed on live TV.

He loads his gun, find's the murderer that's haunted his dreams, his death, and his life. He shoots, no Bruce to stop him.

He picks up the kid and brings him to a safehouse. Jason is too late for the kid the same way Bruce was for him. He has no pulse, no breath entering his lungs. He deserves a peaceful resting place.

And then the kid's eyes open and Jason's world is turned upside down.