#and what he said was 'you know i don't have any problem with that.

[infiniteglitterfall]

Not to, you know, point out yet again that you Hamas stans don't give a fuck about Palestinians, but....

The chasm between what Gazan activists say about Hamas and October 7, and what Western leftists and Hamas say, is absolutely fucking horrifying.

All of this below is from just one Gazan activist who's been repeatedly tortured, by Hamas, for fighting for his own human rights.

As expected, Hamas began executing Gazans the moment the ceasefire deal was reached, accusing them of "working with the occupation." Just today, they executed 10 Gazans, and they promised to do more in the coming days.

This isn’t a novel tactic; it’s an age-old strategy employed by Hamas to silence critics and instil fear among citizens who oppose their rule. I would greatly welcome a position from the pro-Palestinian movement advocating for pressure on Hamas to end its ongoing oppression of the people in Gaza.

For those who support Hamas and express admiration for the organization in light of the recent ceasefire announcement, it is vital to recognize that in Gaza, tens of thousands of innocent civilians are experiencing profound suffering, while Hamas seems largely unconcerned with their plight. They chose to prioritize sending their terrorists abroad for treatment, insisting that each fighter be accompanied by three family members.

What about the numerous Gazans who were shot and tortured by Hamas throughout the war? Shouldn't they be given the opportunity to receive medical treatment abroad?

You know what would help the Palestinians in Gaza? Condemning Hamas' atrocities. Instead, the protesters routinely chant their desire to "Globalize the Intifada." Apparently they do not realize that the Intifadas were disastrous for both Palestinians and Israelis, just as October 7 has been devastating for the people of Gaza.

They should be speaking up for the innocent victims of Hamas—both Palestinian and Israeli. Instead, they endorse Hamas's ideology with posters announcing resistance "by any means necessary" and chants of "from the river to the sea," effectively glorifying the Al-Qassam brigades, Hamas' military wing, whose ideology is entirely based on the elimination of more than 6 million Israelis from the land.

I really, really try to be polite and explain things most of the time.

But after watching "pro-Palestinians" spend the entire war actively helping silence Gazans and making things worse for them, through pure Hamas-worshipping violent tankie revenge fantasies...

I'm just going to indulge myself in one do better, shithead.

“elon musk did the nazi salute, remember to check on your jewish friends uwu” you all celebrated when jihadi terrorists live-streamed the torture, kidnapping and murdering of israelis on 10/7/2023 but ok

[shouyuus]

Yeahhhhhh I'm gonna need the mutual cockblocking with Vi, yup.

based off of this ask. PHEW alright so uh, bullet points today bc /pops open another bottle of champagne/ it's that kind of day:

is it rly called bullying if u and vi r bullying each other and ur both like... into it? (neither of u are being subtle, everyone can see the yearning and they're all either super invested in when ur gonna hook up or tired AF of ur shit)

pitfighter!vi who glares at anyone who tries to chat you up at the bar that you frequent after all her fights (u volunteer at the dingy little clinic two doors down from the fighting ring and she thinks ur too naive for the mouth you've got on you -- and you do have a mouth on you dear sweet god), pays the bartender extra to keep an eye on you and double dose whoever is trying to chat you up that night bc hell be damned if vi'll see you leave with any of these weird fuckers

loris is so over vi's tantrums whenever you push yourself between her and someone she's sweet-talking; he knows that vi's just doing it bc she knows that the moment you see her reach out to push the hair of out of another girl's face, you'll be shimmying your way over and wiggling between them, pressing your tits up against the bar, snagging the drink that vi was gonna offer her potential hookup (and yeah, what if vi ordered a drink she knew you'd like better? huh? that's got nothing to do with anything)

"why don't you just take her home?". vi squinting at loris in the dimness of the alley behind the bar, "wh-what? i don't want that -- that conniving little... rabbit -- i like someone who's a bit more bite -- or... whatever." loris hitches an eyebrow, watching vi with a deadpanned look before sighing, "yeah. whatever you say."

whenever your friends ask you why on earth you're so hell bent on keeping vi from hooking up with a rando, you'd frown and huff and "you should see the way she comes into the clinic every other day -- i'm -- i'm doing a public service! she's gonna ruin whoever she gets her hands on and -- and i've gotta watch out for the sisterhood, yknow?" cue all ur friends rolling their eyes, "uh-huh. yeah. right."

the one night that vi manages to get someone halfway to the door, you catch them right before vi manages to lead the girl out into the street, draping yourself across vi's back, giggling as you loop your arms around her neck, "vi! i was looking for you everywhere -- you promised we could hang out after your fight tonight -- did you forget again?" you purposefully stumble into the girl she's with, knocking their hands apart. vi grimaces, narrowing her eyes as she rounds on you, intent on telling you off when she catches sight of what you're wearing -- a black leather skirt that barely kisses the tops of your thighs and a tiny little red croptop that leaves nothing to the imagination, dark fishnets criss-crossing up your legs (her mouth waters at the thought of ripping them apart to bury her fingers in your cunt) --

"uhm... friend of yours?" her would-be date asks, clearly a bit put-off as she looks you over. you pull your face into a girlish pout, batting your lashes at vi, "aw... are you doing this to get back at me for the other night? i said was sorry -- would you feel better if i let you eat me out in the back alley again --"

at that point, the girl vi's with pulls away and vi barely tries to get her back before rounding on you. the dopey grin slides off your face and your eyes glitter like shards of broken glass as vi growls at you, yanking you behind her till you're both in the dim alleyway behind the bar, the thick metal door slamming shut behind you

"what the fuck is your problem?!" she asks. you roll your eyes, scoffing, "whatever the fuck is yours. i've told you that you're supposed to be resting, and you never listen --" "i come to you so you can stitch up my face not so you can give me life advice --" "well i won't have to much of your face to stitch up if you keep on going like this cause you're gonna get yourself killed!" "why the fuck do you care?!" "cause it's my job!"

vi groans, jerking away from you to kick at an already toppled over trashcan, the metallic clank of it ringing through the narrow street

"you don't get paid to cockblock me at the fucking bar --" "and you don't get paid to spend all your winnings bribing the bartender into double-dosing all my potential dates!" vi whirls around then, eyes wide, "i -- i don't know what the hell you're --" you let out a wild shriek of laughter, "oh please! you're not subtle -- and you don't think pete and i have known each other for way longer than he's known you?"

vi huffs, folding her arms defensively over chest, glaring down the alley at the thing strip of light cresting in from the street out front, "that's -- those people -- they're not good for you. they'd --" she swallows hard, "they'd hurt you -- chew you up and spit you back out and --"

you cock your eyebrows, "you don't think i know that? i am from the lanes too, yknow."

vi scowls, "then you should start acting like it."

"what?" "nothing." "no, seriously -- what is it with you?" "nothing! god fuckin' -- forget it -- i'll find another bar to --" "violet."

her eyes jerk up, "how -- who -- how'dyou know my name?"

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "your friend? loris? he told me after the first time you punched a guy for trying to talk to me. you're probably too drunk to remember but --" vi shakes her head, "no i -- i do -- that guy was an ass -- i knew him from back when i used to run jobs for -- well, doesn't matter much now but --"

"i can look after myself, violet," you say. vi scoffs before she can stop herself, "yeah. okay." you sigh, leaning back against the bar's back door, "or are you just so caught up in needing something to protect that you don't see it?"

vi very nearly flinches. "what?"

you purse your lips, "i said what i said." "yeah well, say it again." she closes the space between you both in a few quick strides, crowding into your space, slamming a palm against the door next to your face. to your credit, you don't even blink.

there's a flicker of something behind your eyes that licks fire along the length of vi's spine; "i said -- you should find some other little puppet to work out your problems on because i'm done --"

she's kissing you before you can finish your sentence, and there's nothing caring or gentle about the way she bullies her tongue into your mouth and licks along the backsides of your teeth, nothing kind or caring about the way she yanks you forward by the back of your neck till you're sure you'll be able to feel the ghosts of her fingers against your skin for days and days to come

you moan into her, biting down hard on her bottom lip, grinning when the harsh, metallic tang of blood seeps across your tongue. when she pulls back, you're both panting, and you've never seen her eyes so dark, so hungry and crowded with sharp, thunderheads of lust

"mm, that's one way to shut you up," vi muses, running a thumb along the line of your jaw. you grin, a slanted, fox-sly thing. "admit it, you've been wanting to do that for ages."

vi's lips curl; she leans in close enough for you to taste the cheap whiskey on her breath as she says, "sure, and so have you."

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

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@bitchykittenconnoisseur

[littlemissmanga]

Unwind With Me

Pairing: Crosshair x (gn)Reader

W/C: 538

Summary: You're at your limit with your job. But luckily, Crosshair is an unlikely source of comfort.

Warnings: Some talk of work stress, but the focus is on the very indulgent comfort.

A/N: HELLO TUMBLR!!

It has been a long time since I posted, but I am finally writing again. Thank you for your patience. And I'll ask for a little more. I'm writing again, but I am taking things slow to avoid overextending myself.

So I figure I'd start with a warm, comforting Crosshair fic. This was what I fixated on to get over my own work stress this week. So I hope you find it helpful, too!

It's been a long day.

No, it's been a long year.

Just a million different moments spread across each day that began to stockpile in the pit of your stomach. Stress building like bile until the thought of another rotation made you nauseous.

"Just quit."

The voice may have been rough, the tone dismissive. But you knew Crosshair only said it out of concern.

You could see it in the way he hovered. Hear it in the gruff clearing of his throat as he refilled your water again and again.

He didn't like problems he couldn't solve. And your toxic job was top of that list.

"You know why I can't, Cross," you sigh as you settle further into the couch. Your apartment was small, but you do what you can to make it cozy. Usually. Lately you've slacked when tidying up. Another worry for the pile.

"Excuses."

He tosses the towel used to dry the dishes from dinner before joining you. Without asking, he pulls you from your nest into his lap as he moves to take your seat.

The moment his arms lock around you, your body melts. Not fully. Not enough to fix anything. But just enough to take the edge of.

Somehow, that is sweeter than anything else you could imagine right now.

"No, it's reality. I pull in a decent paycheck and I'll never be fired. Those are invaluable benefits. Besides, every job has office politics and dumbasses in charge."

He huffs and tucks your head under his chin, curling around you. You're so glad he finally got over himself and let you get close. Crosshair was so touch starved his craving for physical reassurance was higher than yours.

Thank goodness, too. It was selfish, but knowing he needed you even when you felt like such a failure gives you strength.

"You're hurting yourself," he rasps.

"I can take it." Your voice doesn't waiver, but a current of uncertainty shocks you. You can ... but it leaves you so tired. You feel like a shell of yourself most days.

"You're strong. But you don't gotta prove it."

You feel his lips brush against your hair. He liked burying his face into you. It made you smile every time. You return the favor, shifting in his arms to press into his chest.

"Nothing to do about it now. Just ..." You trail off and press a kiss to his collarbone. "Can we just say like this until I feel better?"

He doesn't answer you. Crosshair only reaches over to grab the remote for the holoprojector.

He puts on your latest favorite drama. Something to get swept away watching. Something perfectly distracting to occupy your mind as the soft warmth of Crosshair's body against your own relaxed your muscles.

Eventually, you feel yourself begin to drift off. You resist, unwilling to sacrifice any time with Cross before he has to leave again. But you can't fight the overwhelm of comfort he brings you. And he wouldn't want you to.

You're lucky enough to feel his cool lips press against your forehead before sleep claims you.

No matter what you have to face tomorrow, you know his warmth will be there to welcome you home after.

Taglist: @dreamie411 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite

@secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations

@sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @dhawerdaverd @mythical_illustrator

Check out my masterlist here.

[pinkiebieberpie]

YESSS THE PEOPLE WANT FARMER BUCKY !!!!

OH MY MY MY ઇઉ

(singledad!farmer!bucky x f!reader)

i'm happy to give the people what they want <33 i'm not much of a writer and it's more of a longer blurb/a few scenerios put in one longer post, but if you want to you can check my fic masterlist // inspired by this moodboard, enjoy!! reblogs and feedback is appreciated <33 (and yes the title is taylor swift coded, if you know you know.) ++ @bstorn wanted to be tagged.

words: 1.5k

warnings: death (mentioned), age gap (reader is in her mid 20s, bucky is in his early 40s), mention of drinking, mention of hair pulling, smut, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, outside sex (fuck being quiet, they are sleeping), unprotected sex, cockwarming and creampie (but also not really??? but it is here???)

life is messy. y/n's was actually very messy that's why she decided to move, leave her old life behind and change everything. how did she end up in a small town in the middle of texas? nobody knows, but she was there alone.

the first month was the hardest, she found a new job in a bakery, made a friend - her coworker, jessie but there was not really much to do, calm town, everyone knew each other, basically no privacy. after that first month y/n met bucky, a single father of two, a farmer and big enthusiast of chocolate cookies they were selling at the bakery. was he flirty? maybe. was he friendly? 100%.

it all started innocent.

"hi, i'm bucky, you new in town?"

"how do you like it here?"

"if you need any help feel free to reach out."

and y/n in fact did reach out, cause she needed help when her apartmet flooded. it was out of the blue the next day when bucky came to the bakery, but he was more than happy to help. that day y/n and bucky get to know each other a little bit more. she found out he has two daughters, annie (4 years old) and bea (6 years old), he owns one of the biggest farms in town and it's in his family since... forever, really. she was sure he is married, he was wearing a wedding ring, but that was just a habit - his wife died two years ago in an accident. the conversation was smooth, it was clear that the chemistry was there, but nobody made a move.

"all should be fine now." was what bucky said when he finished fixing y/n's plumbing problem. was she starring at him a bit when he was fixing her sink? yes.

"thank you, really, i had no idea what to do and i don't know that many people here... so i kind of had to ask my friendly neighbourhood customer for help." she chuckled and licked her lip a little bit.

"oh, it's nothing, actually i have a favor to ask, myself... it's okay if you feel like this is too much, but i have to help my friend out of town on the weekend, he has some problems with his animals and i can't leave girls alone, could you babysit? i can pay!"

"what? babysit? i- i never did that, but if your daughters are even half as kind as you, i bet they are angels, so yeah, i can do that, i'm not working over the weekend, you don't have to worry. and you don't have to pay me, it's favor for a favor."

was it a bit weird and a bit fast? for some people maybe, but both of them really felt like they could've trust each other. and that's how y/n became a babysitter for annie and bea. the girls were little angels, that was true. it became a thing that y/n was coming over to play with them and watch them, when bucky was working or when he was busy with whatever he needed to do. girls adored her. she baked cookies with them, they played outside together, she loved reading books with annie and bea and they loved to listen to them.

one night bucky came home really late, the girls were sleeping and y/n fell asleep on the couch too. closing the door woke her up and looked at bucky all sleepy.

"huh? you are home? i better pack my thin-"

"are you crazy? it's 3am, you are staying here, i will drive you home in the morning." he said it with a tone that left no place for arguing. she was a bit turned on by his voice, but no way she would ever tell bucky that. they were friends. only friends, with a weird chemistry, but still friends... but are you really friends when it's 3am and you are sitting on a couch with a man so much older, talking about life, drinking and being really and i mean really comfortable with each other?

that night went peaceful and quietly, in the morning bucky made breakfast for all three of the girls and when his kids were ready all four of them left his farm. first bucky and y/n dropped annie and bea at their preschool and then they made their way to y/n's house.

"you know, they adore you." bucky said while he way driving. y/n felt her cheeks getting a bit more pinkish. and she had no idea why, it was a compliment from his daughters, kind of, not from him. but at this point she knew she was falling for this man and there was nothing she could do about it.

✧✧✧

a few months passed and everything was going great for both bucky and y/n. they were meeting almost every weekend and more than one time during the work week. one day bucky invided her to a picnic at his farm, but... it was only two of them. the girls visited their grandma, and the truth was bucky wanted to spend some time alone with his... friend? his who? that was maybe a little bit more complicated than he wanted it to be. farmer was thinking about her all the time and he was ready to make things official. he wasn't in a relationship since his wife passed and that was over two years ago! he deserved to be happy.

when bucky asked y/n to be his girlfriend she was speachless, cause of course she wanted it, she wanted it bad. she wanted him bad, to be honest. soon she found out bucky wasn't always that sweet and caring man everyone thought he was. he was a very typical girl dad, he was making breakfast for his kids every morning, doing their hair, but he was also that type of man to pull your hair very hard when you were alone. and y/n loved it. every second of it.

their relationship was perfect, y/n loved waking up next to him almost every morning, she moved in really quickly. it wasn't even strange for the girl, they accepted it, after all annie and bea loved having y/n around.

one night y/n and bucky put the girls to bed earlier, because they planned a dinner. bucky cooked and prepared everything and all y/n had to do was to just look pretty when everything was ready.

"god, angel, you look stunning." was what bucky said when he saw y/n in her short, black dress. they ate their dinner, had some red wine and since it was warm summer they left home to sit outside. the moon looked marvelous and y/n looked even more beautiful in it's light.

it didn't took much for bucky to start kissing her. first her lips, then her neck, her exposed cleavage. y/n started breathing faster and then he dropped on his knees and rolled her dress up. first he was kissing y/n's thighs, then his lips were on her already wet panties. her noises were getting louder, then bucky took off her underwear. his lips were soft at first, teasing her, but when she buckled up her hips to him that was a sign he had no idea he was waiting for. bucky's tounge was making her more and more wet and she was only getting louder. her hands ended up in his long hair, pulling them hard when he added fingers to his ministrations.

"c'mon sweetie, you are making really cute noises, but you can be louder than that... girls are sleeping inside you can be as loud as you can." he hummed, his lips still so close to your aching pussy. it was hard being quiet with this man, he was making y/n feel like she was floating with his fingers and tounge alone. after her first orgasm they moved to their bedroom. they ended up naked a second after the door closed behind them. lips and hands were everywhere. their bodies so close, lots of moans and gasps. it was a perfect mix between soft love making and rough fucking and it made y/n lost her mind. at some point bucky covered her mouth.

"shh... we are not outside anymore, girls are sleeping next door, you have to be quiet now, doll." he whispered into her ear as he bit it. he was moving inside her with a steady rythm. her hands were on his back, nails in his skin leaving marks, it wasn't long before y/n finished again. when bucky wanted to move she wrapped her legs around him.

"no, please, i want to feel you..." she purred in the croock of his neck. he hapilly obliged. and that's how they both fell asleep. bodies tangled together, their breaths steady and calm and the whole life ahead of them. maybe with more than just two kids in the future...

[k0nanharv3y]

Alfred who came down after hearing so much noise: What's going on here, Mr. Bruce, Mr. Tim?

And Tim's face turned to Alfred like a rubber band. Bruce's face took a little longer, but he also looked at the old man in pain, seeking comfort or advice from his father

Alfred looked between Tim's heartbroken face and Bruce's wounded face: I don't know what's going on here, but I would advise you both to change and take your conversation upstairs

And Tim only saw red

Tim: This is- I'm so done!, I'm so fucking done, with you!

He pointed aggressively at Bruce

Tim: You!

Damian, who had stood on the sidelines and now seemed personally offended

Tim: And you! And everyone else in this fucking family!

Finally he pointed at Alfred even more aggressively

Alfred, shocked by the open display of hatred towards him, he felt his heart heavy: Mr. Tim- I-

For the first time in perhaps ever, Alfred hesitated

Damian: Hey! You have nothing to yell at Pennyworth for!

He defended

Tim: Shut up Damian, this isn't about you!

He silenced him and turned to both adults now

Tim: It's about you, and what you did to me

Both adults looked at each other and remained silent

Tim: You, you were an abuser and I didn't deserve that, any of this, I've always tried to please you, to live up to what you wanted! And you?! You left him, Alfred, and I wish I didn't hate you like Dick and Jason do, but all I see when I come into this house is an abuser and the person who let him! Don't play dumb, Alfred, you- You're just as bad as Bruce! And even if Bruce was the problem, you never made me feel welcome! Never-! I had to walk home a hundred times with bruised ribs, ribs that you bandaged up and then pretended didn't exist!

His throat was now raw and his voice had become cracked and squeaky. And both adults, when they saw Tim, didn't see the 17-year-old running a multi-million dollar company, they just saw the 12-year-old excited to be Robin and looking for any kind of validation they could give him

And this was what they gave him, a house where he didn't feel safe or welcome, a family he avoided like fire avoids water, thousands of reasons not to return and they robbed him of any kind of childhood he could've had

And the two adults remained silent, unable to deny or say anything, because they had nothing to say. Tim had said enough for them

Tim: You say you loved all the children in this mansion, but guess what, Alfred, I was once a child myself, and the only thing I ever got from here, never came from you. When I came here to become Robin, I thought... I thought I might get something like Jason and Dick got, too, but it seems the only thing I'll get from you is an inscription on my grave. What will you put this time, Alfred? "A good soldier," "A good son"?

Silence was his response

Tim: Fuck you all

He pulled off his cape and threw it on the ground

Tim: Fuck you all. I'm tired of this, tired of-! Of everyone wanting something from me! I quit

He ripped off his tool belt and threw it at Bruce

Tim: I quit your stupid last name, I quit your stupid company, I quit being Red Robin, I quit everything

When he had nothing left to tear off, he kicked things off the floor

Tim: I'm done! And if you ever- And if you ever care even a little, don't look for me! I don't want anything to do with this family, all of you-!

He looked at the people in the cave and seemed about to cry

Tim: I hope you-! Fuck you all, I never deserved this! Fuck you, I hope you all fuck off and-!

His voice broke and his crying intensified

Tim: I hope you die

His voice trailed off as he tried to wipe away the tears that kept running down his cheeks

Tim: I hope you suffer at least a fraction of what you did to me and...! And... And why can't I hate you...? Why can't I hate you...?

His voice sounded so tired

Tim: All I ever wanted was to be... to be enough, for you to love me... and I want to hate you but- but you're my father, and they're my brothers and... and I'm so tired, I want to go home, I want to feel safe and I want to hate you! Why can't hate you?!

He collapsed on the ground, like all his other things, like a pathetic spectacle of a pathetic child. He felt miserable in the eyes of the people who hurt him, he felt vulnerable and naked and... and he didn't care anymore, the weight he had been carrying for so long finally lifted from his shoulders and he felt satisfaction at the heartbroken look on Bruce's face and the pain on Alfred's face, and Tim simply didn't care about being on the ground anymore

He didn't care about anything anymore, just like he didn't matter

///

Part 1 Jumpscare!!!

That awkward conversation I had!!

///

And no one gets any comfort because god knows I don't know how to write about comfort, Tim deserved that breakdown and Bruce and Alfred deserved to have someone point out to their faces that they were, in fact, abusive and ruined a child's life

I would do this with Dick, Jason, Damian and Barb too, but I haven't read many comics about them, fanfics? sure, but I don't know how much of it is canon and what their real personalities are

Bruce ruined his children's futures, but canonically he also saved them. Dick was saved from becoming GraySon, Jason was rescued from the streets, Damian was saved from the League of Assassins, and Barb... Barb made choices

But Dick was also condemned to the superhero life and all the harm that entails, Jason was condemned to die, Damian went from an abusive mother to a neglectful father, and Barb... well, she's now permanently in a wheelchair

There's just too much to unpack there!!!! And my psychology books are begging to be opened again, but Tim is my favorite and that means everything I think of will be about or referring to him

[wtfaniii]

Best Friend's Brother

Summary: Fleeting and secret romances are the best, you liked to feel that adrenaline but a moral conflict arises when you realize that your new lover is your best friend's brother.

Warning: Flirting, innuendo, reader is three years older than Jun-ho, drama and alcohol, I haven't corrected this yet and english is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes!

Hwang Jun-ho x fem reader

The sound of the music was muffled by the walls and far from your ears, the smell of cigarettes mixed with masculine perfume was a completely intoxicating weakness to your nose.

Your mind was in a whirl and barely had your ideas clear, but what you were sure of was that you didn't want to separate yourself from the owner of that delicious aroma, a boy taller than you had you against the wall kissing you with need while his hands explored your body.

Your mind pieced together the puzzle of your memories as you let yourself be kissed by this handsome man, your best friend In-ho had graduated from the academy so you invited him out for some drinks to celebrate, he and you got along very well, almost like brothers for five years.

However, you distinctly remember that he said something about someone not showing up to this little celebration at the bar so he left to meet up with his fiancée, you decided to stay, the night was still young and you needed some fun, from then on the memories are vague but your consciousness landed when you felt this man's hand slip under your skirt and caress your intimacy through the fabric of your underwear.

A gasp escaped your lips and him soft voice made your legs shake.

—¿How about we go to my car? —He whispered in your ear

You would have said yes right away, you didn't know who this stranger was but he was damn handsome and judging by the way he teased you with his touch he knew what was doing.

But you were too drunk now, you placed your hands on him chest and gently pushed away.

—Sounds good but I think have to go home... you know, I have to feed my cat —The words came out slurred and were barely understandable but you thanked heaven that the stranger understood you and moved away.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and walked awkwardly towards the exit. It would be a nightmare to take a taxi home, but you didn't want to call In-ho, you knew he wouldn't have a problem going for you, but you didn't want to ruin him special day by not knowing how to control your drinking.

When the cold air hit your bare legs you cursed under your breath, you didn't even have a jacket to cover yourself, with no other choice you started walking towards the subway because at least there you would have company during your trip home.

You had barely taken a couple of steps when a warm jacket fell over your shoulders.

—¿Don't you have someone to take you? —You recognized the voice immediately, it was the same stranger you were kissing a few minutes ago.

—I'll take the train at the station —You said without stopping walking and with him following you.

—It's late and I don't think it's safe to go alone.

Jun-ho noticed your stumbling as you walked and from the way you spoke he was sure that it was not a good idea to let you go alone, he knew the risks and if he could help you he was going to do it.

After he insisted a couple of times you agreed, you didn't know if he was doing it in good faith or if he just wanted to sleep with you, either way, you just wanted to go home and go to sleep.

You gave him your address and Jun-ho drove in silence, luckily he hadn't had much to drink so he had no problem taking the wheel, it was almost two in the morning and the streets were deserted except for a few people who were also going out for alcohol or to have fun, the two of you were driving in complete silence until the black-haired man's cell phone rang.

He answered the cell phone and heard his stepbrother's voice.

—¿Where are you? Mom just called me to see if I was with you, I lied to her to keep her calm.

—I went to the bar you told me about but you had left —He replied calmly, stopping at a red light.

—I thought you weren't going anymore, I wanted to introduce you to a friend.

—¿Was she pretty? —He gave a low chuckle.

In-ho sighed on the other end of the phone, Jun-ho was quite the nova hunter and that's why he wanted to introduce you to him, you were also too flirtatious and rarely looked for something stable, he was sure that both of would get along.

—¿Are you still at the bar? It’s already late —In-ho commented.

—No, I'm going to drop a girl off at her house and then I'll go back to the apartment.

—¿New lover?

—Something like that.

He wasn't going to lie, he liked you from the moment he saw you and he was certainly hoping to fuck you but he wasn't going to do it while you were in this state, he offered to drive you home in hopes of getting your number so could talk to you tomorrow morning.

—Fine, when you get home call mom —In-ho said for the last time before hanging up.

After a few minutes he finally arrived at your house, helped you out of the car and guided you to the door where you clumsily put the key in the lock.

—¿What now? ¿You expect to come into my house and stay overnight? —You asked sarcastically, you didn't expect such a nice attitude without the other person expecting something in return.

But to your surprise he shook his head silently and took a step back.

—I just hope you give me your number.

Curious, you thought, looking at him intrigued, he took out his phone and you added your contact.

You thought he was cute, attractive and chivalrous, it had to be fake, but you went with the flow anyway, making sure you didn't get your hopes up.

To your surprise the next morning you received a call from this guy, you honestly thought he wouldn't but there he was, asking you how you were and what you remembered from the night before.

There was a first date and then a next one, from that day on both went out to the movies, to dinner, to lunch or looked for something entertaining to do, there were stolen kisses, occasional caresses and flirtatious words in your ear but he never got into your bed, that excited you too much because you realized that his intentions went deeper than skin deep.

—He’s so cute —you sighed as you and In-ho shared an afternoon of movies and friendly conversations —He's attentive, he opens the car door for me and every time we see each other he tells me I look pretty.

In-ho laughed out loud.

—¿Who could be that unfortunate man who ran into you? —He joked, throwing popcorn in your face.

—¡Shut up! I'm going to be different with him.

Once again, In-ho laughed loudly, eliciting a groan of irritation from you.

Yeah, maybe you were a total slut sometimes, you'd flirt with guys and then dump them when you got bored but this time it would be different, Jun-ho touched your heart like no one else ever had.

Jun-ho was in the same situation as you, he also knew what kind of jerk he had been for the last two years but he wanted to change and was going to do it with you but In-ho didn't believe him at all.

None of the three of them knew how small the world was and that when In-ho found out there would be serious problems, with him because you were his best friend and with you because him were his younger brother.

[dadrielle]

There won't be another Aeor now, because Aeor was a very specific kind of tragedy, wherein the gods prioritized their own survival over the survival of huge swathes of mortals. They had choice after choice after choice where they could have diverted to a more merciful path. Even in the very last moments, they could have just destroyed the Factorum Malleus and spared the rest of the city, and found another way to deal with the knowledge that had been disseminated. But they chose their own immediate security over the lives of every regular person in Aeor, every refugee and civilian and child. The Primes may love mortals, may work to protect them, but when it comes down to it, they will choose themselves (and their Betrayer kin!) every time. It is love with a very big caveat.

Two thirds of the world's population died in the Calamity because the Betrayers were initially banished, not destroyed. The gods say they cannot let any of the Betrayers die because they might need them if a bigger threat arises, but what good does that potential possible protection do Exandria if their warring wipes the world out now? Why should anyone, god or mortal, expect that the Betrayers would help fend off such a threat anyway, when they very clearly want the Primes and all mortals dead? There was so much emphasis in Downfall on how, despite it all, the Primes and Betrayers are family and the Primes cannot let that go. It's hard to take Ayden at face value when he says that they need the Betrayers, in the light of that. SILAHA says "That's all our problem. It's all about ourselves. At least I have the, well, confidence to actually accept it." And that's the truth of their motivation that their actions indicate in Downfall.

The Arch Heart and the Matron explicitly told the Hells that the world was on the cusp of another Calamity. Except for those two, when confronted with the possibility of Predathos, the gods wanted to chose, once again, to sacrifice the lives of countless mortals in order to protect themselves. The Divine Gate is meant to stop another Calamity, but now we know that they are willing to tear it down to save themselves. So Calamity is the threat that hangs over the world much more immediately than potential cosmic horrors.

I don't think anyone is out here saying that this plan with the gods becoming mortal means that there will never be any danger to Exandria again. There ARE terrible threats that exist, like the Chained Oblivion and there are almost certainly more that exist out is the cosmos that are currently unknown. Predathos might eat those or it might not, we don't actually know. There absolutely will be more evil mortals, just as there will be mortal heroes to stop them, as they always have. This is not the creation of utopia. It's the aversion of another apocalypse.

But something that struck me, at least, about Aeor, something that I think often get lost underneath all the other debate, under the focus on hubris, is the stark fact that mortal understanding grew to the point where they could create a weapon that could kill a god. That's incredible. If the gods saw mortal understanding reach so far and instead of saying "you are children and cannot comprehend and so we will strike your knowledge from the world because it is too dangerous for you," said "you are our children and you are growing up, perhaps we should help you understand" what might mortal innovation have accomplished? What solutions would mortal creativity come up with that might have surprised their creators? If the gods chose to treat mortal attempts to understand with encouragement instead of condescension, what might the Cassida Previns of the world built?

You say that level of power has to exist to fight off the next eldritch horror that arrives. Why does that power have to be concentrated in a small handful of gods above any sort of accountability? Why can't it be power distributed amongst a larger number of mortals, defending themselves? Why can't it be mortals, no longer children to be shielded but instead come into their ascendancy to fully inherit the world and its responsibilities? Why can't mortals be equal to the gods, not in the sense sought by those power-hungry mages, but as a collective, with the gods reborn among them and treating them, as it were, as adults, who might come to understand?

In the final narration for Downfall, Brennan says:

"In short, brief life can even the infinite change, realize, recognize, commit to something new, singular. To move forward on the paths of destiny and fate, changed."

And I think this choice being given to the gods to become mortal again, beyond just giving them the ability to survive at the cost of their power, is also offering them the chance to learn and grow the way mortals do again. Being mortal in their quest to destroy Aeor, ending even as it did in something horrific, did actually change them enough that they created the Divine Gate. That was a sacrifice and it was better than what was before it. But it was not enough and now that the flaws in that approach have become clear, it's time to look for another path. Mortality offers that. And I think seeing how mortality could change them further will be a hell of a story, and I'm looking forward to it.

Anyway, I don't particularly think this is going to convince you or anything, you seem pretty mad, but it's fun to talk about this stuff, and you gave me an excuse, so thanks.

[eriochromatic]

I love your Silco takes so I was wondering if you could share yours on Vander and the drowning incident because no matter what angle I look at, it doesn't make sense.

As far as I can tell from what we're shown, the riot was well under way before Silco threw that molotov, and it's confirmed that enforcers killed Felicia. Thing is, it's implicit that Felicia chose to participate in the riot because a.) Why else would she be there, and b.) She was down with Zaun being independent for HER KIDS. Also, anyone who participates in a riot, or even a peaceful protest, knows they're putting their life on the line. So while I understand reacting to loss with intense grief, it's not exactly a surprise? It's something you have to mentally prepare for when you take a stand against an oppressor?

But then, if you go the ideology route with Silco taking it too far and the riot was Silco's idea, that stunt on the bridge was most likely pre-planned, organized resistance. This means a sizable number in their community, including Felicia and Connol, supported it. Even if Vander had doubts, he went along with it. Otherwise, why does the show open with him beating an enforcer on the bridge? Vander had other options: he could have split the resistance group down the middle by sitting it out and/or trying to stop Silco, neither of which he did!

The letter highlights the loss of Felicia as Vander's triggering event, and Vander admits that there's blood on both their hands. To be honest, I kind of like this because it hints that Silco's violence was acceptable to Vander within the context of revolution, and he thought he could handle the sacrifices required. Ironically, when he couldn't handle it, HIS violence pushed Silco towards any-violence-necessary because you can't trust anyone ever anyway!

Anyway, I know this is the fault of flimsy writing in S2 and what feels like internal censorship with challenging political status quo during production, but two drowning attempts (which for Silco came out of nowhere), followed by expulsion from the Lanes (which he helped build), the guilt of Felicia's death, and the total loss of the friends and community he was fighting for ... I mean, at least Silco's villain era makes complete and total sense???

Ugh honestly I try not to think about the drowning incident or even make sense of it anymore because every time I do, it's just so obvious to me that the writers themselves had no idea what they're doing. Timelines are completely off, character motivations make no sense, so why is it up to me to untangle the mess they made?

I have a huge love hate relationship with season 2 because on one hand, I didn't expect as much Silco crumbs we got in the first place and I'm SO HAPPY we got to see him normally in episode 5 and thriving in episode 7. But the retcon… I was so pissed when Act 2 dropped because the whole bridge incident just stopped making sense like you said.

Then when Act 3 happened, it all clicked together, but not in the "ohhh the story makes sense now" way but in the "oh the writers needed to set up smth previously so this would work." and it completely took me out of it. Like. The writers wanted Vander and Silco to make up with each other. But they don't know how to do that. Let's add some underlying sentimentality between Vander and Silco and Vi's mom, then kill Vi off. That'll make them go back together (along with that STUPID LETTER Vander wrote). Sure that's a bandaid solution and on surface level it works, but I don't think the writers really thought we would think about Silco this much so the moment you peel back the layers nothing makes sense anymore. I think they could've crafted a way more interesting story if they ACTUALLY SAT DOWN AND TRIED to have Silco and Vander reconcile without using Felicia as a crutch, but season 2 has an overarching problem of "lets have all the important things happen offscreen and only imply that they happened" which is just… so lazy…. so I'm not surprised that this happened.

It just weakens so, so many parts of the story and raises way more questions than answer them. Why does Silco pull away and distance himself from Felicia's family? Surely Vi should know him from before? Does Silco only take in Powder because he knew she was Felicia's daughter? Why, WHY does Vander go like "there are worse things than enforcers out there" (implying Silco) in s1 while talking to Benzo????????? when he's apparently felt guilty this whole time ??????? what happened to "I've looked everywhere????" etc etc idk man. from s1 I always thought the bridge incident happened way, way earlier from Felicia dying bc Vi looked like she was about 7 years old during the bridge and around 14 during act one, but then if you see Silco during the s2 warwick flashback he looks like he's 25. maybe 30 at the maximum. aint no way he aged that much in 7 years, in act one he and Vander both feel like they're in their mid 40s idk.

This is lowkey why I kind of only want to draw young Silco.. I love old man yaoi but like. If everything I draw is just flashback version of him, I don't need to worry about logistics of the bridge thing bc it hasn't happened yet lmfao. Or the AU version where everything is solved and no one rlly thinks about that time anymore.

Honestly I've tried to write this response several times trying to spell out my version of the timeline but just. nothing makes any fucking sense. I don't like thinking about how badly the writers fucked up on this part. Silco magically gets an eye injury caused by Vander and they had yaoi divorce but it's fine now. That's just how it is for me and if I think about it even a little more in depth my head will explode and I have better things to do with my time like draw zaundads yaoi

[randomizer971]

Wakfu The Great Wave - Chapter 12

Hic sunt dracones...

... and beware of spoilers, amphibians, Trypophobia and overuse of gif.

Me, watching some NPC blame Yugo & his people for the "sins of the Mother" for the nth time :

Grougalorasalar is so out of line in this chapter! Even that luscious hair and those defined abs don't blind me to his faults!

The audacity of Rasalar to imply those artefacts don't belong to Yugo, Adamaï and co. I'll admit that the Eliasphere and Eliacube are from the Mechasms (stolen, given, rented or whatever the current canon says) but the DOFUS ?! The Dofus Eliatropes are literally those kids' spawn points ! What are they supposed to do when their siblings are still incubating?

Here's your daily reminder that Yugo is living his best Explicit Married Life with his baby siblings stuck on his chest and at least two of them will remember all they could perceive from their Dofus once they're out... but who's judging?

Rasalar has no mercy. Everyone is catching strays today! Let Qilby rest in peace, he's back in his Dofus now. That reptile is so rude! Did he even know any other Dofus Eliatrope to talk about this family like that? I would have loved to see a verbal battle between Qilby and Rasalar. The sass would have been 📈📈

My, this dragon really said "I hate you and your entire bloodline" in 10k words or more. He had been preparing his diss track since Ogrest spat out his Dofus. You know Mewing Lizard was just waiting for Yugo to grow up just to trash him without being accused of bullying kids. Bro had so much resentment toward Yugo and the eliatropes, you'd think he'd taken lessons from Oropo, the poster boy for daddy issues. Is it Rasalar's Euphoria era or something? Was his name Lamar all along ?

In all fairness, it makes sense for a Twelvian to be so against the eliatropes being on the planet. These artefacts and some Eliatropes caused chaos all over the World of Twelve for centuries. Yugo's edgy alter ego had some involvement in Ogrest's Chaos and Nox's vain project to use the Eliacube. Then, there was the whole mess with the necromes and now, it's almost confirmed that Goddess Eliatrope had a hand in the death(?) of all the Twelvian gods. Not that they were much involved to begin with, apart from creating half-gods. How very Olympian of them!

I might get hate for this but, the Twelvian rulers were right to demand the Eliatropes and all their inventions leave the World of Twelve (Seasons 2 and 4).

The monarchs had more to lose keeping the Eliatropes on the planet. Ignoring the more peculiar concerns like where to put all those kids (back when there were thousands of them in S2), who would pay for all this and such, national security would have been the top argument to kick the Eliatropes out. The Twelvian Council had "proof" that the Eliatropes were a threat to the local population, and that was without knowing Oropo's origins and his involvement in Ogrest's Chaos. As rulers, they are accountable for the lives of thousands (current and future generations). Their duty would call for those rulers to deal with the problem asap. Because, if they didn't, the population would be sure to remind them of said duty (riots, vigilantism, civil unrest, coup...).

Apart from late King Oakheart, the monarchs had no deep involvement with the Eliatropes, no positive interaction not tainted by a bad first impression. All they knew was that their respective kingdoms were put in danger because some "wakfu-powered alien children" and their "long-lost, overbearing, self-righteous and possibly unstable" Goddess Mother had decided to crash-land there and open the door to the Necrome menace.

Since the Eliatropes cannot leave the planet without draining it of Wakfu (Season 2, Qilby), keeping the artefacts out of reach from both the Eliatropes themselves and the Twelvians would be the next best thing. It seems Rasalar might be justifying his actions with this thought.

HOWEVER, I disagree with the idea of giving away the Eliatrope collectables to Rasalar. So far, no one has proven worthy of properly using the Elia-artefacts or even keeping them safe.

On one hand, the Twelvians are easily manipulated or tempted into misusing any powerful artefact like they already did with the Primordial Dofus, the Eliacube or Shushu weapons (e.g. Nox, Ogrest, Toross on his planet, Pinpin and other Shushu Guardians). The Primordial Dragons and their Guardians would lose these items, like they often do with their own Dofus (Grougalorasalar & his siblings). Master Joris helped in hiding those treasures away (OAVs) but failed because of Oropo's brotherhood. Regardless, he is currently the ambassador of Bonta, whose queen dislikes Eliatropes. What would he do, should the Bonta queen and queen consort command him to hand over the items?

On the other hand, the Eliatropes, the rightful owners of most if not all these Eliatrope collectables, don't have the cleanest track record either. Qilby is out of commission for some time, but nothing says for sure he won't try to use the Eliacube again, even with his last-minute "redeeming arc". With some Eliatropes living among a population with mixed opinions about them, who is to say one of the Eliatropes won't turn into the next Qilby, Oropo or Bouillon in a few years or in a few generations?

Adamai seems to have good decision-making skills but most of it lies with his fear - fear of losing control, of making the wrong decision. He is so unsure that he'd rather not act because he also fears what Yugo would do with the powerful items (e.g. OAVs and Season 3).

Yugo is...Yugo. He has matured a lot since Season 1, but, he mostly thinks with his heart. From this, he would act on what he believes is right, while pushing aside the very real and often negative consequences of his choices and actions. He is a brave warrior and overall a kind person...but his very dichotomic view on right and wrong could make him a questionable ruler when political acumen is preferred over sheer might.

Right now, Yugo is still reeling from his confrontation with Oropo and the fight against the Necromes. With the tasks of caring for two kingdoms, maybe we'll see him make those hard decisions. However, as he is now, I cannot imagine Yugo not using the Eliasphere & Eliacube to try and "be a hero", if push comes to shove. The webtoon made that PG-13 plot armour disappear, opening the door to not only some Yumalia fun but potentially to explicit death and gore. This means that, in the webtoon, Yugo with his current mindset could try to "save everyone" only to fail miserably.

Yet, the webtoon has just begun. There is still time for some kind of evolution for his character development. Although, given the title "The Great Wave" and the state of the world in Waven, I'm not holding my breath.

As long as he doesn't end up alone on a planet destroyed by his own hubris, Yugo is good to go!

What I don't understand is…why now? It's been months (?) since the Battle against the necromes. Why does Rasalar want to talk, scheme and let out his grievances now that everything is relatively quiet? Is it because it took time to reunite all the Primordial Dofus? Was he spying on Yugo and the others to gauge their strength before attacking? Was he on his training arc to master the Primordial Dofus before confronting the Eliatrope twins?

Rasalar demanding those Eliatrope limited edition items be like

The audacity of this walking crocodile bag! Who does he think he is ? I know Spicy Lizard didn't just demand those sacred Elia-McGuffins! I know the genius who lost his Dofus, not once but twice, didn't just ask the Eliatrope artefacts and even added a tight deadline and a menacing debt collector (goth queen Julith 🖤).

That guy?! Who would give anything so dangerous to the very dragon who couldn't keep his Dofus safe from fusing with a baby (Maître Joris) and later could only watch as a crying toddler (Ogrest) gobbled the egg down? Be for real !

And now Rasalar is threatening people ?! This guy needs to disappear TODAY ! I'm saying this as a totally unbiased person who has no favourite at all. If this dried-up reptile hurts my beloved child Amalia or little Grougal and Chibi !

One too many people have been talking big just because they got some Kinder eggs stuck on their back !

How are they so loud, when they look like this?!

Tell me this is not what dark!Adamaï, Toross and Rasalar looked like? Embarrassing!

On a side note, Rasalar sacrificed all these villagers to revive The Butcher of Brakmar only to use her as his Uber driver?

Heretic!

Anyway, as usual, the art is fantastic and the pace is great. All those cameos from the animated seasons, making me all teary-eyed and stuff. My boy Nox ! 😭😭😭

I'm looking forward to this new wave of drama! Hopefully, more character development will come for the non-Iop cast. 😒

*End of my rambling*

[scoobydoodean]

seriously why is gadreel so likeable. like somehow gadreel's actor nailed the likeable vibe castiel has and that's Crazy. (im not saying i think everything he did was justified im just saying hes like. i appreciate him for having a consistent moral code that he tries to live by even if he gets manipulated)

When he first shows up, he behaves like (the romanticized version of) a medieval knight. Like. Listen to his dialogue when he first appears to rescue Dean from an angel beating the shit out of him.

GADREEL/EZEKIEL: Easy there, brother. This young man has prayed for our assistance. Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter.

He has a very (charmingly) "old fashioned" take on angelic duty. He believes it's their job to help humans. His ultimate sacrifice reinforces that that isn't something he made up to manipulate Dean—he really truly believes what he's saying and he wants to be a good and righteous angel! His attitude is almost like season 4 Cas (who is so convinced that he's on a holy mission) but actually less cynical—more chivalrous.

He's already been injured by the fall, but when he hears Dean's prayer, he makes his way to him for no other reason than Dean prayed for the help of an angel!

He tries to deescalate the situation:

ANGEL: Forgive me, brother. I don't recognize you. GADREEL/EZEKIEL: Happy to make your re-acquaintance. After you disarm. [The angel pretends to be willing to talk but then attacks Gadreel] GADREEL/EZEKIEL: Come, now. Is that any way to treat a brother injured in the fall?

He indicates that (while we know he was in prison so he couldn't actually take action) he rooted for Cas's side.

GADREEL/EZEKIEL: Believe it or not, some of us still do believe in our mission. And that means we believe in Castiel...and you.

And of course—Cas's little mistake freed him from prison, so that's another reason he's not pissed at Cas like the rest of the angels. That said, I don't think Gadreel is being dishonest about being on Cas's side. I just think when the time comes, he's still too scared that Cas will reject him to risk an encounter (and that fear doesn't turn out to be unfounded to be fair).

He also chooses the alias of an angel Cas ends up vouching for with a smile, calling him a "good soldier". While I think Metatron is right to say in 9.09 that Gadreel chose to take Ezekiel's name because he had a good reputation (something Gadreel sorely lacks) I think his choice also suggests Gadreel and Cas have similar values, because they hold the same angel in high regard—and the angels in general liking some angel doesn't necessarily mean Cas thinks that highly of that angel, considering how much Cas has morally clashed with the rest of his brethren.

I've also talked before about Gadreel's vessel choice being very interesting. Almost all the other angels (the only exception I can think of being Samandriel) choose vessels that work corporate jobs. Their attire (among other things) aligns them with the upper class. Gadreel, on the other hand, asks a bartender to be his vessel. I think it's interesting that the two angels Dean seems to trust most immediately end up being Gadreel and Samandriel... and they ARE both angels who share Cas's stance on humanity more generally. At the same time, they're also not human, and just as we see with Cas sometimes, we see with Gadreel in season 9 that fealty to certain ideals leads angels (with the soldier's mindset) to be ruthless when they believe they are required to be to be righteous. And reputation matters a lot to them (see: season 6 Cas hiding what he's doing from absolutely everyone he knows, keeping Crowley as his dirty little secret).

Gadreel's problem is that his sense of chivalry is dampened by the terror he feels at the idea of being found out and thrown back into a cell for eternity. He wants to repair his reputation, and Metatron convinces him that restoring order in heaven will please God and re-legitimize him. Cas's season 4 mistakes were centered around the belief that he was serving God, which is what Metatron sells Gadreel on, and like Cas in season 4 (and again in season 12), Gadreel is also lured by the concept of paradise.

METATRON: You and I ... We could have paradise again, Gadreel.

Even when Metatron demands a test of his loyalty (while dangling the opportunity to become heaven's hero over his head like a tasty carrot) Gadreel refuses before even knowing who Metatron wants him to hurt:

METATRON: No, I mean REALLY sure. We have enemies who pose an imminent threat to our effort. They must be neutralized. GADREEL-IN-SAM: Slain? METATRON: In a word. GADREEL-IN-SAM: That... That is not who I am.

Gadreel proceeds to do several things he shouldn't do, but Metatron also lies to him at various points about the true nature of what he's doing because Metatron knows he can only push Gadreel so far before Gadreel morally objects. When Gadreel realizes that Metatron orchestrated the deaths of several angels he brainwashed and that he's going to hurt humanity, he accepts Metatron's true nature—that he isn't God's representative and nothing he's doing is righteous—and defects. After being wounded by MoC Dean, Gadreel tries to stop Cas from wasting grace healing him:

GADREEL: Please. I'll leave you alone, I swear. CASTIEL [reaching out to heal him]: We're not here to hurt you. GADREEL: No. Your Grace. Healing me will only weaken you. [CASTIEL doesn't even hesitant and instantly heals GADREEL]

Then in a last heroic act, Gadreel sacrifices himself to save humanity and the angels.

GADREEL: The only thing that matters in the end is the mission -- protecting those who would not and cannot protect themselves --the humans. None of us is bigger than that. And we will not let our fears, our self-absorption prevent us from seeing it through. Not anymore.

I MEAN?!?!?! It's just... so endearingly saturday-morning-superhero-cartoon style heroic. Knights of the round table heroic. It's endearing!

Even as he's dying to blow a hole in the cell to free Cas, he tells Hannah (who is keeping guard) in a superhero voice,

GADREEL: Run, sister.

[cleolinda]

JANUARY 6: I fought my first monster in Silent Hill 2, or any video game, for that matter. It was rough, but James and I prevailed.

JANUARY 7: I went back to try the combat tutorial again and get some practice. This audio (my voice only) is more of a walkthrough than just the fight itself—a description of the "lying figure" monster, my inability to get over hitting the wrong healing key, the way the game teaches you 1) how to pick up healing items and 2) disappointment, the side effects of long covid, and my continued struggles to get James through doors. And then, finally, we fight. I've improved so much!

CURRENT DAY: I am working on getting some actual video gameplay of my fights (yes, multiple) with Pyramid Head. I sincerely have 20+ minutes of him killing me 11 times so I can practice Basic Gamer Skills. This will follow the video of me originally shrieking for 3 minutes.

(Comments directed at my player character are in parentheses.) {Comments directed at the enemy/monster are in brackets and bold.} Content: Vomit is one of the monster's attacks but I don't describe it at much length (I don't care for it either). A body-horror monster is described but only in terms of clothing.

The problem was that when I was trying to fight this lying figure… monster… the camera was way too sensitive, and every time I tried to move, it was going around the room and I wasn't able to see exactly where the vomit was coming from. 


So, if you haven't played Silent Hill, if you're not—Silent Hill 2, rather—and you're not familiar with this—this monster... they're all fucked up, just off the bat. But specifically, this is a... feminine-looking figure... the top half is kind of a weird... I don't really know how to describe this. It's supposed to kind of have.... aspects of maybe a body bag and a straitjacket and kind of some corset lacing detail? This is all like a maroon color. Uh... it doesn't have a face, that's covered. Somehow it's able to vomit through all this. It vomits acid—HUGE shower—cone of—of acid, and the bottom half is just like... legs... in platform heels. When I get to the actual recorded gameplay, we'll talk about what the fuck this has to do with anything, because it's got—it—this imagery is for a reason. They never explain it in-game, but it's for a reason. 

So I'm having to rock up to this figure—oh, it doesn't have arms. It does, but they're like... bound underneath this straitjacket-type... business. So all it can do is... run at me... headbutt... vomit... I forget if there's a third thing it can do... specifically. These are extremely difficult, actually—oh, oh, it gets on the floor and it slithers around. That's not helpful either. So, that—which makes it harder to hit—like you want it on the ground where it can't vomit on you? But that also makes it a lot harder to hit it. So... this is what I'm having to deal with [laughing] in my very first combat. And that's why I was sitting there the other day going, “No, no, c’mere. C’mere. Can’t reach you. C’mere.” And that's why I said I got vomited on.... a lot, because I have the camera spinning around the room and I can't see what direction it's coming from. And life is already hard. Life is already hard, and I'm already having a hard enough time making this man walk forward. So...

And there's also a stomp... kind of function—I thought this was maybe a separate control, like press this for hit, press this for stomp. No, it's just whatever James feels like. It's just whatever he feels like in the moment. People really enjoy the stomping—players really enjoy the stomping. And I was like, I don't—I don't know how much I like this. It's a lot of grunting. I'm not—I'm not sure how down with this I am. And [then] I'm like oh, oh okay, I don't get to choose. This is just James working some feelings out. That's. Okay. So stomping actually works really well when something slithers across the floor. So I will let him make that judgment call.

Right now we are in this skeevy house on Martin Street—oh, oh that [camera] is not sensitive enough at all. Oh, boy, yeah that's not fast enough. Okay. Settings—you get to come along for the ride with me, I'm very sorry about that, but... this is.... this is part of the ~journey. “Look” sensitivity [i.e., mouse control of the camera sensitivity]. Let's put you back on [0.]20 and we're gonna see how that goes.

Also, I'm kind of... not sorry we're putting off the combat. I... survived. My first combat tutorial, I survived it... but it was rough. Uh... I nearly failed this man. He was at death’s door. He had the plus sign come up, he had the really thick red border vignette come up. We just managed to find a syringe in time. That was my fault—well, all of this is my fault—but that was my fault because they gave us a health drink before going into this. That's why it's a tutorial, they kind of walk you through—here's what you're gonna need during it, here’s what you're gonna need after it, after you've got your ass beat. And you hit V [key] once to take this health drink that heals you a little bit. And then when you have a syringe, you hold V down to take this greater healing item. And I, in my infinite wisdom, hit V down and held it in my urgency to heal him while getting vomited on, and obviously he didn't have a syringe yet, we hadn't gotten that far, and so I just stood there doing nothing, healing nothing, while getting beaten up by a monster without arms.

So... it was an adventure—see, here's what's so funny. Most people know how to do the health drink tap and they can't figure out how to do the syringe because they miss the part where you have to hold the key down. I did the reverse where I couldn't figure out the normal basic thing. Because that's me. That's me as a person and a gamer. I will always find a new and interesting way to be wrong about something.

All right, let's see... how does this—okay that [camera sensitivity is] livable, that's livable. All right, all right, point the camera. The Camera Is The Most Important Part Of Walking. Nobody told me that. I learned this… for myself. 

[In the room just before combat:] I have to point him at the door knob, not just the door. Okay, so here is the cabinet. We're gonna point him at this cabinet. (No—a little bit—there you go. This is on me. This is not you. This is a little bit on you. E [key], we're gonna pick that up.)

This is the nutritional supplement—how this heals you? I—how would a nutritional supplement heal you? Are we talking like, Ensure? Are we talking Boost? Are we talking kombucha? Yeast? I don't know what this is. Why would—why would this do anything? “For adoh”—[sigh] I can talk. I really can. [Reading:] “For adults only. Do not exceed recommended dose.” So we're gonna take 500 of these. Okay. That's fine. All right, and so then— [The game tells you to tap V to use the health drink.] I'm not pressing V now! I'm not pressing V now! Then there's another cabinet. It's empty. The game demonstrates for us: disappointment. It demonstrates for us that sometimes things will be empty, because I would not have understood that otherwise.

All right, so here is—here is the door. I went through the wrong door last time.

[Long pause.]

My brain just... died, what am I doing? I'm pointing him at the door knob. Okay, I have long covid. I'm blaming that on everything. I'm blaming everything on that—I—both ways. I'm blaming everything on everything. (Please walk through the door, sweetie...) [I am struggling to direct James through doors. Again.] (I know, that's the hinge—don't—don't bump into it like—don't—just act like you're so inconvenienced. Come on. YOU KNOW WHAT A DOOR IS! —That’s the wall, I’m sorry. I—don't—don't just brush into the wall like you're just really playing it up. I know I'm a terrible person.)

(Okay, open door... open door. All right... all right...)

I'm probably gonna die this time. I'm probably going to be complacent and I'm going to die. All right. So: here's our monster detector/wife communicator. “E.” Cutscene. Here we go. (Pick it up!) It's making noise. All right. [Repeating what James says:] “Stay back.” I agree with that, I cosign that. 

Monster falls out. It's fucked up. Stare at it a little bit—the ratio looks a lot better. [I had spent a week trying to figure out how to correct the “wideness” of the picture.] That's what I'm focusing on in this moment—it's standing up. It's standing up. (Okay. Get that stick. [Your first weapon: in the cutscene, James picks up a plank of wood with nails on the end.] Get that stick. Get that stick.) 

{Stay back. Stay the fuck back.} Here we gooooo... [Vehement mouse clicking.] (Hit it? Hit it. Hit it? Hit it. Hit it—) {Are you gonna vomit?!} (Dodge! Dodge? We DODGED IT! All right! Do it again. Do it again. Okay, we’re gonna come forward—we're gonna—beat the shit out of this thing, come on, you can do it! You can do it.) 

{No! Are you about to throw up? Are you about to vomit—}

(Get it! Get it—) Oh! This is so clean. Oh, this is so clean. I didn't—didn't— (STOMP IT. There you go. It's not done until you say “what the hell is that.”) [The combat tutorial is over when James says, “What was that thing?”] (Stomp it? Yeah, just keep hitting it. Yeah.) “What was that thing?” he says. [Audibly clapping hands:] All right... all right. I didn't take a single hit. All right. 

(What was that, James? I don't know, hit it again.)

What are we doing? Okay, okay—where—where are we going? Do we get to leave? Is that a thing we get to do? No? Ever. Do we ever get to leave? Here we go. 

[cawslew]

bonus anon rambling: to me, atsushi is kind of in the best position to give dazai something he's most likely to keep. i feel like dazai plays into what others perceive of him, but he fully believes that being "evil" or "bad" is something deeply embedded in him, which is why his time in the port mafia ends up making him miserably empty, even with what companionship he found there. regardless of his morality, i don't think he wants to be rejected by those he cares about, but the main people he cares for in the port mafia, he played a role in bringing them there. i feel like he can't reject atsushi because he pulled atsushi into a better place, going against what negative opinions he has of himself. dazai got a special soft spot for atsushi, specifically, because he sometimes seems like he's nervous about showing any morally dubious side of him to atsushi, so like how could be directly reject a gift without getting into his insecurities? it amuses me because the vibes i get from atsushi is that, while he is a bit simplistic, he isn't blind to the effort people put in for the greater good. i think he can distinguish those fine lines, especially because he notes the headmaster had a worse past than him and may have had good intentions during his time in the orphanage, but he doesn't really forgive the headmaster at all. to me, he believes dazai is good because dazai put in the effort to support him rather than a blind faith that dazai is good because he is his savior. canon dazai and atsushi's relationship just feels like one of those self-supporting ones because the people in it serve to bolster each other up. its kind of funny that i yapped this far given all this started because i just thought dazai probably has a lifeless room and he should decorate it.

I do love the yapping tho! Always love a good excuse to chat about the faves! But you’re definitely spot on when it comes to Dazai’s internal struggle and the self-image with Atsushi’s ability to see the effort and somewhat of a nuance in other people.

Dazai as a whole has problems with his own morality (which does make me love him for the amount of struggle he goes through). As you said, he does see himself as inherently evil, or you could even say broken. He loathes himself, and that fact always colors everything he does. Even when he DOES do good, he always brushes it off as calculating and manipulative rather than genuine care (He even helps the agency, yet when prompted about them being his friends, he is never able to admit it). Port Mafia shaped him that way in some way. It reinforced him to be like that, and even while he had people he obviously cared/cares about (Oda and Chuuya, for one), they were always shaped by the violence and systems he himself also perpetuated. So I do think he might feel like any love or care he receives might be BECAUSE of his utility or performance.

But then there’s Atsushi, who ABSOLUTELY doesn’t work that way, and Dazai knows it. Atsushi has this almost resilience and huge sense of justice that literally stagnated from his own suffering, abuse, and straight-up torture (Headmaster, when I get you—Headmaster, when I GET YOU—). Like you said, he doesn’t forgive the headmaster because he can see the harm he has done. He’s able to differentiate between someone who’s actively harmful and someone who’s putting in the work to do good. He’s seen the work and effort Dazai puts in, and he values it, even when Dazai doesn’t value it himself (though there’s also a fact that at the end of the day, in Atsushi’s mind, Dazai IS his savior. Someone who saved him from the streets. It’s a point I don’t see people often tackle when it comes to their relationship). Nevertheless, it’s not blind faith but a recognition for genuine care and an ultimate reason why Atsushi is actually suited to have an effect on Dazai as a whole. We all also know that Dazai puts on a facade, and he tries to seem better around Atsushi the most as he wants to keep Atsushi thinking of him as a better person than he is (Atsushi is obviously not blind; he knows WHAT Dazai used to be or what he’s doing, as in manipulative acts, etc. He might not know the scope, but he is well aware of Dazai not being a saint. Nonetheless, he thinks of him as a good person). So, ye, partially rejecting Atsushi’s gifts would feel like rejecting that trust, and Dazai could not bring himself to do so in the end, unless he would be able to actually weasel his way out by honey tongue (Is that phrase in ENG even? I will explain it then to make sure: it’s a phrase that refers to someone who speaks sweetly, persuasively, or in a flattering manner, usually in the context of charming or pleasing someone to the point of being manipulative or insincere. Basically, someone who uses smooth or sugary words to win others over). Rejecting that trust ultimately could mean on a personal level that it would unravel all the progress he’s made in the ADA, and THAT, RIGHT THERE, it would hit right at his insecurities. It’s so personal.

The self-supporting dynamic is such a great way to describe their relationship. Atsushi is someone Dazai can see as proof that his efforts to save people matter, while Dazai is someone Atsushi can look up to as well (Or at the very least someone who pushes him to do better. Not over the fact that after he stopped hallucinating the Headmaster, instead he hallucinates Dazai OR EVEN Akutagawa when he needs that push to do better...). Atsushi doesn’t idealize Dazai, but he appreciates him in a way that’s authentic, and that is probably why Dazai would hold onto every little thing Atsushi gives him at the end of the day.

Dazai’s lifeless, borderline ascetic room would just slowly be overtaken by those small thoughtful gifts from Atsushi. Like Atsushi giving him a tiny potted plant because "It’ll brighten the place up," and now Dazai has this ridiculous little plant on his desk, and he has to water it or feel guilty. Or even Atsushi giving him a picture frame with a group photo of the ADA, and now Dazai has an undeniable, physical proof of his connections sitting right there. And he can’t just put that stuff on any cabinet or any other place, they’re filled up by now with other stuff that Atsushi gave him. No matter where he looks, there’s always SOMETHING that was given to him.

Atsushi probably doesn’t even have any idea how deeply that affects Dazai. He was just trying to be nice and reciprocate, while Dazai is being forced to confront the fact that someone, in fact, CARES for him in a way that he couldn’t fully justify or deflect.

[worldly-fluster]

Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x non-mc! Reader

AND

Sylus x non-mc Reader

Part 3 of ?

(Each Part looks different in the beginning lolol oh well)

---

I sat waiting for a while, this is the first time in the few days I have been here that I've been left alone...the longest time in a little over a year that I've been without my Snapdragon.

Being left with my thoughts and memories, I can't help but think. With nothing and no one to distract me.

-**

"What do you think of this?"

I held up a small dragon doll I made from a blanket Sylus accidentally tore up with his claws in his sleep.

"...what is it supposed to be?"

"It's supposed to be a dragon...does it look bad?"

Sylus lifted the limp, lumpy dragon from my hands to see it closer.

"Hm...not bad but why would you do this?"

"Bored mostly, and this little dragon can keep me company when you're busy."

"Well I'm here right now."

He threw the little lumpy dragon to the side.

"There's no need for any other dragon."

---

"How did that...song go again?"

"Hm?"

"The one about Stargazing...intertwining souls?"

"Ah, it's one of my favorites. It goes like...hm..."

"Hm?"

"No give me a second I'm trying to remember the words for the chorus...ah! Got it, ahem..."

Sylus kept his attentive gaze on me as I sang the chorus, and tried to remember the rest of the song.

"Take my heart don't break it, love me to my bones. All this time I wasted, you were right there all along. You and I stargazing, intertwining souls. We were never strangers, you were right there all along."

"...more?"

"That's...all I remember off the top of my head, sorry."

"Don't be sorry...I liked it."

---

"Snapdragon~"

"Hm?"

"I might need some new clothes...these ones are kinda..."

"What's wrong with your clothes?"

I held up a dirt covered sweater, the shirt I was wearing torn and stained, my pants no better. I felt stinky and dirty, I really wanted- more like needed, new clothes.

"What's wrong with the garments you have now?"

He didn't see a problem with your attire, he actually kinda liked your natural smell that clung to the cloth covering you. Of course he did, he was a dragon first and foremost. Also, you didn't need anything fancy, it wasn't like there were any people you needed to dress for.

"I...I feel gross. If I stay in these much longer I might even get sick."

As soon as you said 'sick' he immediately started moving to get up. He didn't want you to get sick, that would be troublesome.

"I will go get you something."

"Thank you Sylus."

---

I lay, spread out in my little area Sylus let's me occupy, not knowing what to do...

"I'm doing nothing because nothing is doing me."

Sylus sits up and stares incredulously at my prone form.

"...what?"

"Did you know that the Egyptians thought the most significant thing you can do in life is die?"

Sylus stared with wide eyes for a moment before huffing and sprawling out next to me.

"There's something wrong with you..."

"Yep."

---

For some reason today, Sylus was acting...weird.

He wouldn't look me in the face, if he did it wasn't for long, and when I would do something his eyes almost always followed me.

When I asked about it he just responded, "Nothing."

I gave up after a while and went on to do my own thing...but boredom found me quick.

In my boredom, because he wasn't talking much, I thought maybe he would look pretty with some jewels hanging from his horns.

As I got close to him, he had his back to me but when he heard me coming he slightly turned his head to see what I was up to.

I stopped just a bit away from him and asked-

"Can I play with your hair again?"

A minute later I found myself seated next to him. He was laying on his stomach with his face in mine, his arms curled around me slightly. There was a slight rumble coming from his chest as I played with his hair and rubbed the base of his horns. He hardly noticed me loosely hanging jewelry from his horns, and if he did he didn't show it.

After I was done, I gently pulled his face from my stomach, my hands on either side of his face. I smiled when I saw his half lidded eyes and small frown on his face because I stopped playing with his hair.

I lightly squeezed his face, making his lips pucker and his eyebrows furrowed.

"You're so...ugh!"

I couldn't handle the way he was being adorable and planted a kiss on his nose, making him widen his eyes and go crosseyed.

That alone was too cute, once again, so I peppered his face with many more kisses. The cuteness aggression getting to me.

He grunted but didn't make to move away as he closed his eyes. His heart fluttering faster than he's used to. He didn't know what to do as you continued your affectionate tryst.

He could get used to this.

-**

While remembering those moments, ones I wish lasted forever, I didn't realize there were tears falling down my face.

I was knocked from my memories when I heard a cawing from above, right before the fluttering of crow wings as Mephisto landed on the bench beside me.

Caw! Caw?

I wiped my face, trying and failing to hide my tears.

"I'm okay, I'm okay...just remembering some stuff."

I let out a sad chuckle as Mephisto waddled closer.

"Maybe even a little homesick but... it's okay."

I gently held out my hand to lightly run the back of my fingers on his feathery chest. His smooth feathers soothing my whirlwind of thoughts.

"Is it though?"

I heard a deep, familiar voice behind me, startling me a bit.

Letting out a noise of surprise I turned around, my wide eyes landing on a familiar face that lacked the dark scales I was used to. My heart thumped in my chest uncomfortably.

"...Sylus...right?"

He chuckled as he nodded slightly.

"And...MC if I'm not mistaken. You aren't the MC I know though."

"No."

"I heard from Mephisto that you knew a Sylus before?"

"Oh um yeah, I did..."

"... Interesting. Tell me more on the ride."

He took a step to the side, letting me get a full view of the fancy sports car behind him.

Strange, I thought he rode motorcycles?

"I normally have a different ride, but I think the privacy of a car is much needed at this time."

He holds out his large, pale hand.

"Come."

***Sorry it's short lol it's more of a filler chapter***

@poptrim @lavvytae

I think that's all the tags I have RN lol ❤️

[chaifootsteps]

Something that irks me with stolitz is the toxicity. I don't mean it in a "This ship is IMMORAL!!!" I mean that it doesn't commit. My otp above anything I've ever shipped before is toxic. Character A takes immense joy destroying Character B's life in increasingly devastating ways thanks to a timeloop, he can change any time but no he loves being The Worst. For that I have a leg to stand on over this.

We all know the jist: coercion, classism, racism, transactional, ect. I think if they just kept going with that, the fact that Stolas and Blitz aren't good for each other but we're locked into them interacting; Putting characters in situations just to Do It. It could've been awesome. What is happening instead of that is the toxicity between them is getting "solved". They're both going to become better people so that, eventually, the relationship can work. Recovery!!! That's also awesome!!!!

But it's not breaking down the initial toxicity enough. Or presenting the two of them with enough chemistry for us, the viewers, to want them together. It feels more like we're being Dragged to. The show says "They WILL be together. Get rid of everything in the way!" And it's not satisfying. It wants to be the sweet wholesome ship without actually addressing anything. For THAT, it's fair to judge the toxicity as is. If they were just awful people to one another like my otp I wouldn't do that. I'd love the problems, the drama.

But I'm being told they're cute and in love and soulmates. They aren't, it's failing BADLY and that can be pointed at. Even if I try to focus on the fun toxicity of it, I'm being lied to there. Because the bad parts of them are being sanded right before my eyes so they can say "You are my light, you are my heart". Helluva Boss, PICK A DYNAMIC DAMNIT

Worse is the fans who flip flop alongside it. "Yeah they're toxic. They're in hell" they aren't toxic anymore, they're actually painfully in love so we shouldn't care about the [Large Gesture to The Problems]

"The show is about them getting better and moving through it. They aren't toxic." Just a second ago you said they were. But since they aren't for the next couple of seconds, we have to judge their toxicity earnestly because of how strongly it counters their "true love"... stolitz doesn't commit in either direction,,,, annoying

Ugh, the flip flopping is the worst. "Stolas did nothing wrong, he's a gentle guy with feelings who'd never, ever hurt anyone." "He physically abused his imp butler." "It's Hell, what do you expect?"

(Note that "It's Hell, what do you expect?" never, ever applies to Stella taking out a hit on her husband. Ever.)

[dreamytfw]

Using one of @bardicious's tags as an excuse to nerd out about one of my favorite critiques ❤️

So late-stage SPN has a BIG problem with telling and not showing. It's ESPECIALLY bad in the Dabb-era, and Dean telling Mary that solitary was worse than Hell is THE example for this.

Let's start out by establishing that solitary confinement is a form of torture. Humans are a social species above all else and we tend to suffer A LOT of adverse effects if we're completely cut off from any and all social interaction. I am by no means an expert in this - I'm a just a nerdy information junky - so I'm going to leave a TedX talk here that describes what happens to prisoners who go through solitary confinement

I knew all of this before the episode aired, so I had no problem believing Dean when he said that being in solitary was worse than Hell. So I was genuinely shocked when most people walked away from that line going "pft, yeah right. Dean's tougher than that!"

So I went back and rewatched the scene. That's when I realized that the show does a fuck awful job at communicating what solitary confinement does to someone. Like, seriously. I would include a clip here, but I couldn't find it on youtube, so go and rewatch it again or look at a gif set if you need a refresher, I guess.

Their first mistake was breaking up the scenes of Sam and Dean in solitary. I don't know whose decision this was (probably Singer since he was director, but I don't know for sure), but it's a very bad one because it breaks up the mind-numbing tedium of solitary that the scenes should have been communicating. The first thing they do with the solitary scenes is have the anti-terrorism guy whose name I can't be bothered to look up tell Sam, Dean, and the audience that they're going to lose their minds before they get locked in. Dean counts the days with a loose screw (HAHA GET IT??? 'CAUSE HE HAS A SCREW LOOSE!! I hate you Andrew Dabb), Sam and Dean's different reactions to the prison food, them pacing their much too large for solitary cells, Sam working out a couple of times, and... that's it. Also who the FUCK decided Dean would have a razor in solitary that man would NOT have a razor jfc. A good chunk of the shots are wide shots of the cells, too, so the scenes don't even get across a sense of claustrophobia. The only thing they communicate is boredom. Probably because Singer himself was bored because he's a boring director who makes the most boring directorial choices 9 times out of 10.

I know what they were trying to do, though. They were going for that scene in that one Law and Order SVU episode where Elliot Stabler voluntarily gets locked in solitary for 3 days and starts to lose his mind from 2009.

I want y'all to pay attention to the choices made in both the SPN and SVU scenes. The solitary scenes in SPN are brightly lit with warm colors, they have a lot of wide shots, they have a guard talk when he delivers their meals, and the music wouldn't be out of place in an action movie. Hell, these whole scenes wouldn't feel out of place in an action movie.

Meanwhile, the SVU scene is dark and lit with green (green lighting isn't something that tends to occur naturally IRL, so a lot of the time green lighting in film is used to denote that something is wrong), the cell is A LOT smaller and more accurate to solitary cells in real life, the overwhelming majority of shots are TIGHT on Elliot's face to communicate the claustrophobia he's feeling, the shots that show all of the cell are shot through a grate to show how caged he feels, and the music is dissonant and off-putting with hallucination murmurs (I've had a couple of episodes of psychosis before, and SVU fucking NAILED what minor auditory hallucinations sound like). The SVU scene is shot like a horror movie.

I'd also like to look at the acting choices (or lack thereof. J2 stans, if this section bothers you, log off and go hug your pet or smth idk). imo Jared makes better choices than Jensen in the solitary scenes. Sam at least looks stressed and on edge. While Dean just... I'm sorry, but the man is blue steel-ing all over the place and it just makes him look bored and mildly annoyed 😭 Meanwhile, Chris Meloni goes from mildly bored when he first gets locked in, to actively stressed, to completely terrified by the end of the scene. This is not me saying that Chris Meloni is a better actor even though he is fuck you fight me. I don't know how many choices came down to the actors and how many came down to the directors. For all I know, Jared and Jensen would have also made similar choices to Meloni if they'd had a director who wasn't scared of doing anything interesting and could be bothered to collaborate with his actors like directors are supposed to do.

What I am saying (or trying to, at least) is that, in-universe, 6 weeks of solitary likely was worse than Hell for Sam and Dean. Like, at least Dean had some semblance of sensory input and got to interact with other people while he was being carved up. The problem is late stage SPN is incredibly lazy and can't be bothered to communicate that to its audience by showing us. Dabb and Singer just expected us to hear "you're going to lose your minds" before the solitary scenes, then hear "this was worse than Hell" after the solitary scenes, and expected us to just nod along and smile, no thoughts, head empty. Unfortunately for them, we're not stupid and SPN is a TV show, so if you don't show the audience, what you tell them is going to ring incredibly hollow. And that's exactly what happened for the overwhelming majority of fans.

TLDR: solitary confinement is torture, late stage SPN is bad at its job of showing and not telling, and we should abolish the American penal system in its entirety.