#basically the whole cast lmao

[starryaike]

Had a revelation today. Anyways

[mymadmax0]

one last time waiting for a new season. one last time waiting for interviews. one last time waiting for a new teaser or trailer. one last time waiting to see them all on the screen again. one last time counting days until a new season. ONE LAST SEASON. im gonna miss them. so so so much.

[nachosncheezies]

In defense of late-canon x files (including the revivals)

I was thinking about this poll after I commented on it, and I kinda want to be brave and say more.

Short answer to the poll's question before I go any further: If you're a new fan and a sensitive sort who thinks you'll struggle with your blorbos Really Going Through It and you really need a happy ending, I suggest you stop at the end of season 8. Do not pass go, do not look at spoilers. Disregard this post entirely, close the internet, and go look at something that makes you happy. (Also fuck every part of society that characterizes sensitivity as inherently weak and bad and some kind of personal failing, you are valid.)

That said, "quality" as a concept is entirely subjective, and the question of whether or not there's a decline in quality for any story is wholly subjective, too. In the case of x files? I'm not convinced there is a decline. I am going to be upfront that I haven't yet watched past season 8, though I am almost completely spoiled on events after that - and the reason I haven't watched yet is not because of how I know events are going to unfold, but simply because I don't want it to end!!! Ohh, the tension between "I CAN'T WAIT!!!" and "Nooo don't be over D:"

When I first came to txf fandom on tumblr and gradually became spoiled about what happens in late canon though, I was often left uncomfortable and tbh kinda queasy about it. As I said in my comment on the poll, the hate for especially the revival and IWTB, or to a lesser extent even seasons 8 & 9, is very well documented. But! There are other takes to be found here on tumblr if you figure out where to look, and my feelings have changed!

The thing is, I have yet to find myself in any fandom where there isn't a vocal subset of fans who dislike the story after a certain point. I am not joking when I say that no one hates the things they love as passionately as sci-fi and fantasy fans. In my experience, it often hinges on the extent to which a viewer has strong notions on where they would like the characters to end up. In particular with series where shipping is a dominant component for the bulk of a fandom, I have almost universally found that there comes some turning point in the story where "let them be happy you cowards" is the dominant view, and things that compromise the attainment of a degree of romantic stability and/or domesticity are, to many fans, annoying at best and despicable at worst. But! As one tagset on the linked poll said:

and I think for any fandom, that last tag especially is so so so important. (I think that's harder for people watching a weekly series live, bc you have so much time to analyze and speculate and dream before the next breadcrumb drops, but I digress.)

So why am I saying this and how do I apply it to x files? Well, I eventually found that there are also a subset of fans who find redeeming things right up to the very end and actually quite like the whole thing! The things that I had seen people rage and ventpost so much about honestly never quite sounded to me as "out of character" or "untrue to the story" etc as those same ventposts made them sound. And I've discovered I'm not the only one who felt that way. Do I love that the spooky squad had to go through all of those things? No, those poor guys D: Life is hard and they have been through so much trauma. But do those events and their choices make sense to me in light of everything that came before? Yes! And I honestly can't wait to see them fight to overcome those things, breaking, healing, always learning, always growing, always getting better.

So if you're wondering "where does it go wrong"... well, I'm a completionist, as many people who've answered that post are, but also my personal opinion is that I don't think it does go wrong. If you're new and interested in exploring why I've gone from "vaguely queasy" to "excited" about the whole thing, or want to maybe balance out the impressions you're getting about the later seasons before deciding whether or not you want to see the whole thing, I'll put a few blog names in the comments.

Final admission: even once I started feeling a little more confident in the possibility that "actually ok maybe I'm not crazy, maybe this all kind of is in character and does make sense", there was one big plot point that I was NOT looking forward to and I thought I would never be comfortable about. In hindsight, I think my discomfort came from the negative responses being SO seemingly universal that I hadn't stopped to let myself truly consider other possible interpretations on that point. (I mean my initial instinct when I first read about it was, why are we mad about this?? CSM is literally the most unreliable narrator in history???? it's obviously fake news?????? this must be either a fever dream someone's having or it's a misdirection ploy against whatever shadowy forces might still be lurking?????????????? but for whatever reason I guess I had halfway written that off.) Happily, just last month there's a new post-s11 novel out, and although reviews for the book as a whole are mixed, it seems to have laid the groundwork for resolving that plot issue in a way I think most fans would be broadly happy with. If you're interested in being spoiled about that and seeing how, I recommend searching #perihelion on @agent-troi who liveblogged reading it with receipts, scroll back chronological-style to the first post on the subject and see how it unfolded. (And never forget that Dana Katherine Scully is the queen of denial as a coping mechanism lol)

Everyone's mileage will vary. Each person can feel however they want! But for anyone new, I wanted you to know that the very many ventposts you might be seeing are not all there is to this show or its fandom. Some of us love it despite - or even because of - all the things that went "wrong". I think we just don't talk about it as much.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

how do terfs grapple with the fact that they're white supremacist losers who think that women are weak essentially like adult babies but that they also bear the apparent brunt of all human pain... liiike ok which narrative are we going with

[unproduciblesmackdown]

another specific scenario nice & simple like winston "isn't allowed to have a 'correct' cishet(tm) gender n sexuality anyways" "keeps immediately latching on to the nonbinariest people around him" billions goes yolo mode after going [just endlessly weather it at the sunk cost factory] firmly established itself as a shitshow and decides like i'm gonna hook up with a guy fr (has not already happened, in this specific scenario) and then does so, congrats to him. however, with all the precedent in the world, it's like here's your big anxiety about any autodidactic sex ed beforehand. here's your big anxiety about just general surveillance & malicious handling of it afterwards. no way anyone could have completely founded hangups about everything even further just indefinitely now. bonus points though he still goes to math meetup has real math friends over there who have Really provided the [yeah it's not actually a popularity contest here] arena & he's known them for years & let's say has at least One amicable person who talks with him out of it, maybe even two. congrats to him canonly for getting out of there, sure hurt him as much as they possibly could on his way out though, was legitimately the goal

[4giorno]

oh my godddddd al haithams korean voice is fucking beautiful

[metaben]

people need to chill on hammering on others OCs tbh

most people who play single player games have a main OC which is a stand-in for themselves and being like "there are too many skinny/white/etc" OCs is counterproductive when most of the time these OCs are more like idealist faceclaims

representation doesn't mean that Dan and his 3 friends who play BG3 and DnD on the weekend sometimes have to make sure their cast of 3 OCs is representative of people who aren't even playing with them

representation is about orgs and creators with actual influence not ignoring minorities and not making 12 of the same white guy

[dilirebas]

watching Game of Cubes and wishing there were more Who's the Murderer cast members and fewer...other people

[gibbyslounge]

HEARTSTOPPERRRRRAHHHHHHH

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL X ALBERT/FLAMINGO! READER

prompt: after causing chaos in life is paradise, you accidentally clicked the wrong “alt” button.

Oh wow- listen…I’m in my Albert phase guys…so yeah. ANYWAYSSS-

You just got done making your Roblox video as you wanted to exit out of it. You were going for the alt + 4 button only for the alt to look red and shine into your face. The light blinding your sight made you scream as you opened your eyes to see you are in a new area.

…. “Am I in hell…” you said in a high pitch voice. You panicked out a pitch scream gaining weird looks from the sinners. You still kept your human look but as you screamed, the control panel of admins show up. You stopped screaming immediately with an “oh.” And smiled evily

After wrecking most of the pride ring, you felt tired. Seeing an advertisement on tv about a hotel that redeems sinners, you thought maybe you could do some good here. So you pulled out a keyboard and type to teleport to the said hotel

You can go into the wrath, pride, and gluttony ring. It’s pretty real as you have the wrath to destroy things when pissed off. You’re prideful that you can’t be destroyed, and you have the gluttony to eat. A lot.

I can see you just having a small flamingo demon pet following you around. Literally you would make it bite and stab people. You taught it how to do the billy bounce.

The crew most definitely thought you were schizophrenic because you talk out loud as if you were talking to someone 

BIG HEADCANNON THAT YOU HAVE ZOOMIES AROUND THE HOTEL😭

“I start stabbing, now that the lights are out?” “Albert/Reader, please no.” Charlie says holding your arms down. The power went out and you were craving blood.

You’re just a little gremlin :D

Imagine how chaotic it was to not fling someone out of the hotel for fun 😭 LMAO A SINNER FLINGING ACROSS THE WHOLE PENTAGRAM.

“I’m taking away their happiness in a good way!” You say smiling as you drag a resident away from Charlie who seems traumatized. You were like an alastor 0.2 but more happy actually.

LMAO YOU HAVING A BAN HAMMER SO WHEN A RESIDENT IS BEING AN ASSHOLE YOU JUST SLAM THE HAMMER ON THEIR HEAD WITH A “BOOP”

I can imagine you having the same physique as the og Albert. Literally one minute you look like your animal crossing character, and the next thing they know you are some buff Florida man.

“I’m going to make them regret being born.” You said as you clicked an admin that made your skin black with red eyes. The angels came towards you as your cut their heads off.

The whole cast was in shocked seeing a human like you being so powerful with just a panel no one can touch.

“Being a baby will not prevent me from shooting you.” You said jokingly as this toddler was winning uno. The mother ran away with her child as you screamed out uno.

Angel started to rant about what he does for his job and how he basically seller his soul to this moth porn demon. After he told you things what the demon does to Angel. You snapped.

“BITCH I WILL SHOOT YOU!” Yells reader as they cocked their gun. Basically the whole crew has to hold you back as Valentino is pissing himself.

Vox didn’t even know who you were until Valentino started having nightmares and random shadows in his room. (The shadows were you lol) Vox had to look you up and try to find who tf you were. You were a YouTuber. That all it showed up on his feed as he scoffs.

Husk has no opinion on you. He only knows you as that guy with a flamingo. He would sometimes side eye you while you do crazy shit. But matter of fact you two are chill.

“We have different ways of expressing ourselves..” you say to Angel trying to comfort him. “I like this way, he can’t defend himself. And I like that.” You say shooting down a sinner while in battle. Angel dust just side eyes you as if you were actually crazy.

You’re not allowed to go into turf war with him no more.

Velvette has no legit problems with you. Dead ass you and her might be fashion partners. HAVE YOU SEEN ALBERT’S DRIP ON INSTA?! That MAN IS GOOD!

You have so much wanted posters, even you brag to others at how cool you look while destroying someone’s house. All because you were bored.

Charlie is mostly worried for your mental health while Vaggie just knows that you aren’t really the most mental stable in the group.

“STOP DOING THAT! STOP CRYING! What are you a baby?!” You say while smacking away a whole imp baby that was crying beside you on the merry-go-round

Charlie’s eyes widen at what you did. You were like a man child.

I can headcannon you deadass bombed the Vees tower out of pettiness. It was just funny seeing Vox shocked to his damn boots that his home was now gone.

Lucifer made you a duck flamingo cause of how he was trying to be nice to you. He knew you wasn’t a sinner or an angel of sorts. But you were a human that he never seen before. He probably makes you some damn pancakes if you want them.

Lucifer would probably ask if you have a flamingo demon form because you told the crew that you go by flamingo and Albert. You just stood there confused to what this short man was saying. But you just nodded trying to see if you could actually turn into a flamingo.

Headcannon on you just actually helping around by just replacing and changing furniture. You help Charlie with trust exercises as the resident are just confuse at a human being here.

“WHO needs powers, when you have a gun!” You yell excited pulling out a gun from your admin control. You shot downa sinner who was trying to fight you. Alastor just doesn’t see why how your “guns” are more powerful. They don’t even have angelic metal.

Carmilla carmine had seen how you legit shot an angel down with a simple looking gun. It was insane but amazing. She definitely called you down to her place so she can see what your bullets are made out of.

Imagine how you basically see people’s/sinner’s names as if it was a name tag aka username. You would go around saying their name out loud as they look at you scared and crazy. “Hello Hakka!” “How you know my name?!!!!” 😕

Rosie adores you, you may be man child that’s like a gremlin. But you are so sweet and helping. Alastor made you meet her and honestly, it was a great meet and greet. Honestly 10/10.

Headcannon on you and Niffty both killing bugs together. You use your ban gun as Niffty uses a sewing needle. This sweet girl made you a big crown, you better appreciate it.

Alastor had messed with your food making you pissed off. It was the end of the day and you hadn’t eat anything due to not taking care of yourself much. So your reaction was justified when you see alastor’s grins widening.

“I hope you choke on your next meal.” You say as your voice had suddenly boomed across the hotel. It was like as if your mic boosted it, but you don’t have one.

You and Alastor have like a sibling relationship as you two just want to watch people suffer. Literally it’s funny as hell when it’s that one Xbox meme.😭

“MOM SAYS ITS MY TURN TO CAUSE SUFFERING!” You say trying to get over Alastor’s tall body as he causes chaos in the pentagram city.

Sir Pentious didn’t like you at all. Like he was actually scared at his crazy and psychotic you are at times. But when he saw how calm and laid back you actually were. He actually started to warm up close to you. 

The egg boiz follow you around asking if your pet flamingo could play with them. It was so cute as they play with your pet flamingo.

Cherri absolutely loves you and your destructive behavior. Literally you two are a deadly duo cause you would give her some of your admin powers and take it back.

You once actually set up a limb store, literally you were getting that money✨😈 you had chopped off so much limbs got your deer customers.

I can see you actually taking people’s souls lol. You just take souls for fun and not for contract which leaves some overlords confused and scared of your powers.

Heaven would be scared of you personally. Like you are such a menace, sera sent your ass back to hell. Your human appearance was still the same tho lol.

Adam and you, beef on sight. “Why do you even have that pink bird? What are you, ret@rded?” “No but your mother is.” You said back while flipping him off.

Sera doesn’t like you. Your chaotic energy and your “evil” doing are not prohibited in paradise. She might tell Big G about how a human is in hell in perfect condition.

Emily heard about your presence by sera, she wanted to meet you but then again. You are back in hell. But she hopes to meet you one day.

See, me personally you would rob a bank for fun and then give it to some homeless imps in the wrath ring. It’s just you doing random shit while bored.

I can imagine you turning someone into the hulk. You deadass have so much power that it’s concerning and crazy for the hotel crew and rest of hell. You have alot of powers and you can turn people into some green buff human?!?

[onlyseokmins]

ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.    

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.    

Cold.    

Lonely.    

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.    

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged. 

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage. 

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge. 

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present. 

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes." 

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand. 

Was that love? 

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice. 

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes." 

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed. 

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption. 

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his. 

And still, he waits. 

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?" 

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright." 

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too." 

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to." 

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself. 

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him. 

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips 

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

[aspiringtrashpanda]

✨MC teaches the brothers about "jinx"✨

“I’m kinda hungry,” you voiced, your Curses and Hexes homework doing little to retain your attention. 

Mammon snorted in response, not bothering to look up from his D.D.D. “Who are ya? Beel?”  

You waited a second before retaliating, hoping that someone would come to your defense. Alas, it seemed that the brothers lounging around you had long learned to tune out any word from Mammon’s lips.  

“I have basic needs like all of you too, you know,” you huffed, gesturing to the Avatar of Gluttony, cross-legged on the carpet next to you.  The warmth from the fireplace at your backs cast flickering light over the crinkled chip bag in his massive hand. “Eating isn’t trademarked by Beel.” 

Beel grunted, sharp snaps sounding from the rhythmic churn of his jaw.  

Levi’s handheld console let out a chime that signaled some sort of victory. “It’s only, like, his whole personality lmao.” 

Beel’s chewing paused, but Asmo swooped in first. “There’s more to Beel than food,” he cooed, “I mean, look at those sculpted muscles! He’s also the most handsome little brother~ ♡ ”  

“Gee, thanks Asmo,” grumbled the lump of blankets on the couch.  

“Aw Belphie, don’t be like that! I like your slender physique, too!” 

Somehow, the mound of linens seemed to shudder in distaste. Asmo only shrugged, losing himself in his hand mirror.  

“Asmo is right though,” Satan hummed, turning the page of his current book – A Comprehensive Guide to the Devildom’s Most Toxic Plants, “To define Beel as solely a glutton does little to recognize all his positive characteristics.”  

Beel swallowed, before flashing a dazzling beam. “Thanks, Satan.”   

The living room fell silent once more, save for Beel’s snacking and the crackling of the hearth.  

“Hey!” You thought you’d try again. “Know what I could go for right now?” 

You paused for anticipation, readying your answer. 1, 2, 3 and... 

“Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Your spine went ramrod straight, eyes locking onto Mammon in the split second after your voices had harmonized.  

“Jinx!” You gasped, “You owe me a soda!”  

“Huh?” Mammon blinked owlishly.  

“Jinx!” Your enthusiasm was lost on your company. Your neck cracked as you glanced from brother to brother, your grin dampening when they looked at you as though you’d grown a second head.  

Satan frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“Is that some normie saying?” Though he sneered, there was curiosity in Levi’s eyes.  

“You don’t have jinx here?” You barreled onward, explaining, “It’s a game we play in the human world when two people say the same thing at the same time.” 

“How does it work?” Asmo pursed his lip, which only drew his attention to his shade of lip gloss, his mirror capturing his eyes once more.  

You shrugged, “There are various versions of the game. Sometimes, the loser can’t speak until they buy the victor a drink. Other times, they’re silenced until their name is uttered aloud 3 times.”

Mammon lunged forward, toppling off the couch as he rushed on all fours to where you sat on the carpet. Before he could protest, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger, you placed a finger to his lips. 

“Nope! Not ‘til you buy me a Devil Cola!”  

“LOL!” Levi rejoiced, “Mammon, you’re such a n00b!” 

You weren’t the only one who noticed the way Mammon’s eyes brightened, Satan chiding, “Watch it. You can’t say his name or he’s freed, remember?” 

“Oh~ I wonder how long he can hold his tongue?” Asmo giggled, finally distracted from his mirror. You couldn’t blame him. Mammon’s expression was a cross between anguished and constipated.  

His jaw clenching, slivers of his teeth glinting through curled lips, you could feel the irritation radiating from the Avatar of Greed. Absently, you considered if you should tell him it wasn’t an actual curse. Did he know there was no power other than himself silencing him?  

“Can he eat?” Beel inquired, genuine concern mingling with sympathy as he watched his older brother straighten up and march towards the entrance hall.  

“You don't need to speak to eat,” Belphie's muffled voice reasoned beneath the blankets.

“HEY MAMS!” You called to his back, shoulders curled up to his ears in anger, “Buy me a Devil Cola, won’t you?"

And really, you hadn’t expected him to follow through at all. He left the room and you returned to your homework. Beel continued eating, Belphie continued sleeping, and Satan continued reading for the sole purpose of poisoning Lucifer, you were sure. 

About thirty minutes passed before you heard the door to the Hall of Lamentation creak open.  

“No way!” Asmo squealed, a shutter sounding before Mammon could sprint to the couch and swat the D.D.D. from his freshly manicured hands.

Your jaw hit the floor as you looked up at the second born, at the condensation dripping down the can of soda that he thrust in your face. A petulant pout only brightened his blush, the way his eyes looked anywhere but you. The red tint to his skin darkened as his brothers laughed, jeered, teased him.  

The least you could do was offer him some praise. You smiled with all your teeth, “Thanks Mammon! The jinx is lifted.” 

He scowled, waving off your gratitude with an unnecessarily noisy exhale. With his newfound freedom, he instantly started pestering Asmo, critiquing his most recent Devilgram selfies. As your heart swelled with affection, the words in your textbook falling on blind eyes too occupied by the tiniest movements of your family, you felt completely at ease.  

You didn’t think you needed to elaborate, to clarify that you had used your pact and that there was no real magic behind the jinx. 

However, when you entered the House of Lamentation two weeks later, you realized you had been very wrong. 

The living room was a disaster, pillows tossed this way and that, candle wax oozing across something that looked suspiciously like a summoning circle. Splintered wood littered the carpet, broken chairs in a mangled pile next to the hearth. You were pretty sure you could smell something burning.  

You nearly dropped the bag of groceries in your arms, Beel stock still at your side. One look at your shopping buddy told you he had no idea what was going on, concern blazing to life in his purple eyes. 

“Lucifer?!” He called out, immediately seeking reassurance. 

Instead of the eldest’s smooth drawl, you were met with an incomprehensible shriek from somewhere in the kitchen. A clatter of pots and pans. A crash.  

Belphie came sauntering into the room, nodding in greeting. “The jinx didn’t work.” 

“What?!” You gawked, surveying the damage to the room, “What is going on?!” 

“He could still talk!” Satan fumed, stomping out of the kitchen with his bony tail lashing back and forth, “So I cursed him, but then that asshole reflected it, and it hit Asmo instead.” 

Sure enough, a completely drenched Avatar of Lust was next to appear, his mouth moving a mile a minute and yet, not a single sound to be heard. He tossed his hands in the air, hissing something fierce before flicking a wet strand of hair from his face.  

“And Asmo tried to charm Mammon to speak for him,” Satan was still ranting, “but Mammon tried to charge him for his services, which then set Levi off about repayment with interest.” 

You hugged the groceries tighter to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you realized you knew exactly what was happening in the kitchen. You heard the roar, the rumble of the house’s foundation, the continuous rush of water drowning out twin shouts you had heard far too many times before. 

But not as many times as the one voice that rose above them all.  

“MAMMOOOON?!” 

You winced. You’d have to buy your first a Devil Cola later.  

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

technically mammon was the one to provoke levi to summon lotan, so rip buddy. but let's be real, they're all getting punished.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. READ MORE HERE.

[sharpth1ng]

Do ya think anyone suspected that Billy’s and Stu’s relationship was a little ✨odd✨?

How would the (now dead) cast have reacted to maybe seeing or hearing one of those ✨odd✨ moments between them that were meant to be private??? (Like how mrpescott reacted to billy kissing stu)

Tatum:

Not super surprised, both because she’s also Bi and not judgmental and also because she’s not clueless. She’s been around Stu when he’s around Billy I’d say she knows he has a crush. She’s definitely witnessed some of those ✨odd✨ moments.

Honestly if it wasn’t for the whole murder plot she would probably find it kind of cute. I think she’d probably enjoy watching her boyfriend kiss another guy. My girl has good taste, she’s not going to be mad about some live action yaoi.

Randy:

I think he’s sort of clueless because that’s the funniest option. Bro grew up watching these two fall in love and being used as a human shield between them and yet he’s still surprised.

Randy has seen so many ✨odd✨moments that he thinks they’re normal. He’s desensitized to it lmao. If he found out he would have a full on montage of all those moments flash behind his eyes and then he’d be like “OH WHAT”

Sidney:

Has been focused on either her own trauma or Tatum, she’s got a lot on her mind so Billy and Stu’s ✨oddness✨ hasn’t been on her radar.

If they weren’t murderers and she had a not horribly toxic relationship with Billy I think he could fully come out to her and she’d been fine. Would probably trigger some of her own realizations.

As it is though I mostly think she realizes what’s up in the kitchen when Stu is basically upright spooning her ex boyfriend, and it’s just kind of like “RIGHT YEAH OF FUCKING COURSE.” She’s feeling homophobic towards them specifically and she has every right.

[crazystargirl]

omg hiiii! i missed you! I honestly wish you would write a fic where jack and reader get caught kissing by either the avatar crew or the scream crew...or both tbh and then jack gets all flustered and awkward and yn is just like "yeah i did that"

I just thought it was a cute idea especially with your writing. No rush! I'm so glad your back and I hope you feel better now

lovebirds!

pairing ! - jack champion x reader

word count ! - 0.6k

a/n ! - hi babe!! sorry my hiatus was so long 😭 but i am feeling much better now since ive been distancing myself from some of the ppl that im in a somewhat toxic relationship with. but i hope you like this since i might be a little rusty lmao, this is also somewhat of a sequel to take one 

after meeting on the set of avatar 2, you and jack were very close to one another and your relationship got even better when you both found out you had roles in scream 6

jack was playing one of the ghostfaces, ethan landry, and you were playing his love interest who knew all about his family's little secret

you guys grew close to the cast, but chose to keep your relationship private since if there was one thing you knew about jack, it was that he got VERY flustered when people started teasing him about you and would basically just give away the whole secret

that's why the avatar cast knew about your relationship and which is why you made jack keep your relationship a secret from the scream cast

and it worked out just fine, you guys acted like a goofy duo in public and a couple who seemed really in love in private

until you decided one day that jack looked WAYYYY too kissable in his halloween outfit

you two were sitting on the set of the house where the frat party was taking place, jack in his murder party costume and you in the lavender fairy outfit

there was a few issues with the set that they were fixing and jenna, jasmin, and devyn were going over lines which left you very bored

jack nudged you with a small grin

"you look so bored out of your mind right now"

you turn to him with a smirk and he knew damn well you had an idea that he wasn't going to agree with but would go along with any way since he loved you so much

"well i am…can we go back to your trailer?" 

"y/n/n…"

jack gave you a knowing look but still allowed you to drag him to his trailer

he sat down and you quicky sat next to him, kissing him as he swatted you away but was also bringing you closer at the same time?

"y/n your makeup is gonna get ruined…" jack murmured as you pulled away for air

"jack it's ok! they can just redo it" you replied, going in for another kiss and jack gave in, pulling you on his lap

you kept kissing for what felt like hours and you two were in your own little world that you didn't even hear devyn and jenna giggling and approaching the trailer

suddenly the door slams open and you hear jenna gasp and devyn squeal in excitement

"fuck fuck fuck" jack mutters, getting you off of his lap before one of them could get the other cast members to come

he stood up, pulling you up with him just as mason and jasmin came

"so we caught the two lovebirds kissing" devyn says with a grin as jenna nods excitedly

jack shakes his head and gets flustered but you on the other hand? you couldn't be more fazed

"ok yeah we were kissing, we're dating so what's the problem?"

everyone looks at you in shock even jack, not expecting you to be so straight forward with your relationship

"oh um nothing! it's just we're all shocked" mason replied, scratching the back of his neck

"we'll leave you two love birds now, just don't give her a hickey!" jasmin says, walking out as mason, jenna, and devyn follow her

devyn slams the door shut and jack looks down at you, feeling flustered

"well that was um"

you giggle and pull him down for a kiss, which he gladly accepted to soothe him from the shock of whatever the fuck he just witnessed

taglist ! - @xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @urmomcomsiimiamour, @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz, @abodyhasbeenfound, @phsychobanana

lmk if you want to be added/removed !

©crazystargirl || do NOT copy or repost without my permission

[pinchofhoney]

Because I wanna spread the "we need more Belphagor" message, how about something with him? Platonic or romantic is your choice but we need more content for him bc he's so :))))

on the verge of a fever

belphegor x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

warning: the way his character appears in the show has been changed for the purposes of this story; basically, here god is not trying to ruin the whole world, mention of drinking alcohol

summary: Ever wondered if Hell hosts Monopoly nights?

a/n: belphagor is my spirit animal. when you text me, it's the person who writes you back lmao my profile currently looks like a fan club of your requests, but it's not my fault that my obsession with this series is back and you're the only one with ideas related to it. i hope you enjoy it!!<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

Guiding Sam and Dean towards the bunk stairs, you couldn't help but notice the genuine concern etched on Sam's face. He leaned in, his tone brimming with sincere care, and gently reminded you, “You know, if you ever need a hand, just remember that Castiel is just a phone call away.”

This morning's awakening had thrown you a curveball. At first, you brushed off the strange sensations coursing through your body, thinking they were caused by the aging mattress beneath you. Yet, with each passing moment, that peculiar feeling escalated into something far more troubling. It clung to you like an insistent itch, impossible to ignore, casting an unsettling shadow over your day.

Now, wrapped snugly in the comforting cocoon of your soft, pink blanket, you found yourself ensnared in the relentless grip of a fever. Your body radiated heat, and every movement became a battle against the oppressive weight of illness. The sole lifeline keeping you tethered to the realm of the living was the medication within easy reach.

Summoning a faint smile, you struggled to reassure Sam, who always kept a watchful eye, despite the fatigue evident in your voice. “I'll handle it,” you whispered, your words carrying a hint of exhaustion.

Trying to make the serious mood a bit lighter, you couldn't resist adding a touch of playful sarcasm. “Well, maybe you should head out before your God buddy decides it's time to disappear once again.”

After saying goodbye to the Winchesters, you headed back to your bed. You didn't want to bother Castiel with your problems; you knew he had more important things to worry about than a grown-up hunter catching a simple cold.

As you entered your room, you couldn't help but grumble to yourself. Why did it seem like Sam and Dean never got sick? You were used to risking your life to hunt supernatural creatures, and now, on top of that, you had to deal with a fever. It just didn't seem fair. You plopped down on the edge of your bed, feeling frustrated. This illness was not only physically uncomfortable but also a reminder that even tough hunters like you had to face everyday human struggles.

Ridiculous, you thought.

You took a quick look on the mirror standing in the corner, then let out a sigh of annoyance and laid down on your bed, giving in to a sense of resignation. You didn't even notice when you drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, you slowly opened your eyes, hoping to find some relief from the persistent illness that had plagued you. However, as your vision cleared, you realized that you felt even worse than before. It was as if the fever had intensified during your restless slumber, wrapping you in a suffocating embrace.

With a groan of discomfort, you pushed yourself upright, your head pounding with every movement. The room seemed dimmer, and the last rays of daylight coming from the corridor appeared harsh and unforgiving. Your throat was parched, and your limbs felt heavy as if they were made of lead.

Casting a rueful glance at the clock, you realized that time had slipped away during your troubled nap. It was as though the fever had stolen not only your strength but also precious hours from your day.

You came close to grabbing your phone and calling Castiel, but you resisted, refusing to give in to a moment of vulnerability – or so you tried to convince yourself.

Struggling considerably, you managed to shift your legs off the bed and, with an effort that would make an elderly man with mobility issues proud, you stood up. Your own sigh of discomfort mirrored the sound one might expect from someone in such a situation. You briefly caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, mentally noting how pitiful you appeared, before making your way into the hallway, your feet dragging wearily behind you.

The bunker had settled into an eerie quietness, broken only by the weighty sound of your footsteps. As you made your way into the main room, your initial plan to head to the opposite corridor was interrupted by an abrupt rustling in a dimly lit corner of the space.

Your tired eyes strained to identify the source of this disturbance. Could it be a mere product of your fevered imagination? You wouldn't be surprised if your illness had started playing tricks on your mind. After all, nobody else was supposed to be allowed in the vast bunker.

And then, right there, bathed in the soft, muted glow of the bunker's emergency lighting, stood a figure you never anticipated encountering. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat, and your fever-addled brain could only muster one thought; Jack. Why was he here? What was happening? Wasn't he...?

“Jack?” you questioned hesitantly, your gaze darting around the room in search of some evidence that you were still ensnared in a dream.

The figure before you smirked. It wasn't the gentle, innocent smile of Jack. It was something darker, more twisted. Your fevered mind raced to find an explanation. Maybe it was the fever. Yes, that had to be it. You were conjuring this surreal scene in your delirium.

“Hello,” greeted the boy, lifting his right hand in a welcoming gesture, mirroring the way Jack used to.

Confusion knitted your brows as you unconsciously took a cautious step toward this familiar-looking stranger, clutching your blanket tightly around you. Your scrutiny intensified as you examined him closely. The person before you was dressed in the same attire as the last time you saw Jack, but it couldn't possibly be him. Jack Kline had met his demise, so why was he standing before you now?

Your gaze wandered to the sunglasses perched on the boy's face, and you couldn't help but shake your head with a hint of amusement. You swiftly turned away, fully convinced that your need for medication was far more pressing than entertaining these unsettling hallucinations. As you made your determined exit, you could almost hear a faint chuckle from behind you.

“Leaving so soon? And here I was, hoping for some company,” the boy, or rather, the entity inhabiting the boy's body, remarked with a sly grin, his voice dripping with faux disappointment. His sunglasses hid the fiery void that should have been his eyes, concealing his true nature as he attempted to blend in.

You paused, feeling an inexplicable mix of curiosity and unease. There was something off about this whole situation, and it wasn't just the fact that you were conversing with someone who looked like Jack but couldn't possibly be him. The aura this stranger exuded was friendly yet laced with an unsettling undercurrent of something more sinister.

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to maintain composure.

The boy's smile widened, revealing a veneer of friendliness that barely concealed his sadistic amusement. “Oh, I was getting dreadfully bored down in Hell. Thought I'd stretch my legs, so to speak.”

His casual tone and the way he spoke about Hell as if it were a mundane inconvenience sent a shiver down your spine. This was no ordinary encounter, and you couldn't help but wonder if your fever had conjured up this bizarre scenario.

“I'm Belphegor,” the demon chimed in, noting your dubious expression. “Just a temporary tenant, you know? This body was basically vacant real estate, so I thought, 'Why not?' I mean, squatters' rights and all,” he quipped, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders as if discussing his choice of a new apartment. His grin remained as inscrutable as ever, a blend of friendly and utterly unsettling.

You couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow at the demon's cavalier attitude. This was a new low, even for the world you lived in.

“Squatters' rights, huh?” you muttered, not sure whether to be amused or deeply disturbed by his casual demeanor. “Well, congratulations on your, uh, new accommodations.”

Belphegor chuckled, the sound a disconcerting blend of mirth and something far more alarming. “Thanks, I think it suits me. But, you know, I'm not all that bad once you get to know me,” he added with a wicked grin, as if trying to convince you that sharing a body with a demon was just a quirky and harmless coincidence.

Your instincts told you otherwise, and you couldn't help but wonder how deeply the Winchesters were embroiled in whatever bizarre deal this demon had cooked up.

“So, um,” you began, feeling a little like you were fumbling through a conversation with a distant relative you'd rather not acknowledge at a family reunion. The situation was beyond awkward, standing there face-to-face with a demon who had chosen to squat in a body you knew all too well. “Care for a drink?”

If you could, you would have rolled your eyes right then and there, but you had to maintain some semblance of composure. You knew you should be taking action, maybe calling the brothers or attempting to exorcise Belphegor, but your phone was conveniently left behind in your room, and it seemed that the universe had a thing against including demon-killing pockets in your pajamas.

Belphegor's lips curved into a wicked smile, his amusement clear despite the sunglasses concealing his eyes. “Well, aren't you the hospitable one,” he quipped, as if being invited for a drink by the friend of his borrowed body was a regular occurrence.

You couldn't help but chuckle nervously, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “I figure if I can't beat the demon, I might as well join it for a drink,” you replied with a wry grin, attempting to keep things light, even though your mind was racing with thoughts of what to do next.

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were walking on thin ice, navigating a situation that seemed to defy all logic. Sharing a drink with a demon in your pajamas was definitely not how you had planned to spend your day, but sometimes, but sometimes you had to improvise.

Entering the kitchen, you were determined to play it cool, all the while keeping a close eye on the boy. You grabbed a bottle of Dean's favorite liquor from the cabinet, figuring that if this was going to be a bizarre demon rendezvous, you might as well make it a memorable one.

“Here's to unexpected company,” you said with a somewhat forced cheerfulness as you poured two glasses, trying your best to hide the anxiety gnawing at your nerves.

Belphegor accepted the drink with a bemused nod, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To unlikely alliances,” he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

While he was distracted with his drink, you seized the opportunity to grab a glass of water and discreetly pop a couple of fever-killing pills. You hoped that once the medication kicked in, the demon might just decide to take his leave, making this weird encounter nothing more than a fever-induced hallucination.

Sipping your water and pretending to engage in the odd conversation, you silently counted the minutes until the medication would hopefully bring some relief.

As the time passed, you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was all too real. The fever medication had begun to work its magic, and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you, courtesy of the combination of drugs and alcohol. Your head was spinning like a top, and you realized that your attempt to blend in and have a normal conversation with a demon was spiraling into absurdity.

“So,” you slurred slightly, trying to focus your blurry gaze on Belphegor, “what's it like down there in Hell? I mean, besides the whole eternal torment thing. Do you guys have, like, a book club or a knitting circle to pass the time?”

Belphegor raised an eyebrow, his amusement evident even through those opaque sunglasses. “Well, it's not all fire and brimstone, you know,” he replied with a mock-serious tone, playing along with your bizarre line of questioning. “We do have our demon potlucks, and occasionally, a game night with some fiendishly fun board games.”

You couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of demons huddled around a Monopoly board in Hell. The combination of fever-induced delirium and the surrealness of the situation had turned the conversation into a comical farce.

“What's your favorite board game, then?” you asked, leaning in closer as if discussing board games with a demon was the most normal thing in the world.

Belphegor chuckled, his sinister amusement undiminished. “Twister,” he replied with a sly grin, and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Lost in the absurdity of your conversation with the demon, you paid little attention to the strange sounds echoing through the bunker. It was as if the very walls were whispering secrets, and you chalked it up to your fevered imagination playing tricks on you.

Belphegor was in the middle of describing a particularly demon version of a summer vacation when a sudden, unexpected voice pierced through the haze of your conversation.

“Y/N” Castiel's deep voice resonated through the kitchen, his sudden appearance causing you to jump so violently that you almost knocked over your glass.

You turned to see Castiel standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his blue eyes penetrating the sunglasses-clad Belphegor with a steely gaze. The demon's expression shifted from amusement to surprise as he realized the presence of an angel.

“Castiel!” you exclaimed, your heart racing as you struggled to regain your composure. “I, uh, didn't expect to see you here.”

Belphegor's amusement seemed to wane as he met Castiel's unwavering gaze. The room fell silent, and the atmosphere shifted from surreal absurdity to a tense standoff between angel and demon.

“What does this supposed to mean?” Castiel asked, his voice steady as he approached the countertop where you were seated, sliding a blade out of his sleeve.

You quickly rose from your seat, wanting to calm the situation. The absurdity of the situation, in which you, in a pink blanket, wanted to defend a demon who could kill you with a snap of your fingers, did not reach you.

“That's Belphegor,” you stammered, your voice wavering as confusion and uncertainty welled up. You realized you had no real justification for the demon's visit. “I-I have no idea why he's here, but he's... uh, he's cool.” Trying to defend the demon only earned you doubtful glances from both Castiel and Belphegor, making this already weird situation even more confusing.

“I've got an offer that might catch the Winchesters' attention,” the demon said as he stepped forward from behind you.

Castiel's expression darkened as he confronted the demon, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Taking Jack's body... this is desecration,” he hissed, his voice carrying the weight of his disapproval. The angel's gaze bore into Belphegor, as if willing him to understand the gravity of his actions.

You stepped in between the two, desperately trying to ease the mounting tension. “Look, I know this is... complicated,” you began, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of the situation. “But maybe Belphegor has something important. We should hear him out before we jump to conclusions.”

Belphegor, for his part, maintained his sly grin, unfazed by Castiel's anger. “I'm just a demon trying to make the best of my situation,” he chimed in, his tone almost cheerful. “Besides, the vessel was just sitting there, collecting dust. I thought it could use some fresh air, you know.”

Castiel clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to contain his frustration. “It's not about the vessel, it's about respect and dignity.”

Before Castiel could retort further, the kitchen door swung open, and Sam and Dean walked in. Their faces registered a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene before them. The room was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the creak of the door.

“What's going on in here?” Dean finally asked, breaking the awkward standoff. His gaze shifted from you to Castiel and then to Belphegor, who was still wearing that boyish grin beneath those stupid sunglasses.

[red-might-be-dead]

hello hi here to force strange thoughts into your brain once again, this time about jrwi (wow who could’ve guessed)

been thinking about this for a little but it’s basically what i think some campaigns would be if not podcasts, i haven’t listened to some of the older ones so i’m sorry they’re not on here :(( if you have any ideas feel free to add them btw :DD

RIPTIDE!!!!! - really long animated series

not an anime though, no matter how much grizzly wants it, it would be an animation style where the characters could have very clearly different nose, face and body shapes, really pushing my riptide nose agenda here sorry, each episode would be like 20-40 minutes long and instead of coming out in seasons there would be massive gaps in between episodes, from 2-6 months long, to leave time for writers and animators to get stuff done (massive team of animators btw, i feel like it would be pretty successful)

PRIME DEFENDERS!! - comics

literally nothing else they could be, just really well made, well performing comics (i’ve already talked about this before you can stalk my talk tag if you really want to find it lmao), the comic company making them would be keeping well away from movies n shit btw

APOTHEOSIS!!! - i wasn’t really sure about this one to be honest

i had to ask my friend and she said anime which i don’t agree with but i can see it, i think maybe a short book series where each book is 150 - 300 pages and is about a different god they have to kill/a different episode, i think that works but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me :D!!

BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!! - i hate to say it, i really do…

bitb would be a really long really good 80s horror book with strong homoerotic undertones, a satisfied fanbase and lots of active members in the community making fan comics, films, writing, theories and art ect… until well after the book came out……….. and then it would be made into the most egregious and awful live action movie you have ever seen, the most awful casting (like chris pratt as officer dudes….. throws up) and even worse sfx, oh yeah and the characters would be ruined and the story would become so butchered it wouldn’t make sense, they would do some shit like cut out becky so kian just kisses some random lady (removing both a really good and well written character and a layer of kian’s character that i think is super important) and make rolan really be an evil bug spy the whole time so rand has to kill him to save the town also add in a whole new sub plot that never existed like the rand family is secretly a long line of bug alien hunters or something fucking stupid like that and the entire fanbase would murder whoever thought re-writing the story was a good idea (ahaha can you tell ive been through something like this before ahahaha, character morals and motives being removed and whatnot ahahahhahahaha.)

anyways………

THE SUCKENING!!! - live action series

it would be well made though, unlike the bitb movie it would be its own original thing, have great makeup and effects also be well casted and well shot, well written, ect ect, it would bloody and gory and not suitable for people who can’t handle showing bones and organs all over everywhere, lots of shitty rip off merch would be made though and the fandom would be 99% gay little freaks (normal suckening enjoyers) and 1% homophobic straight white men who get mad whenever they see soda and emizel having gay sex on screen or whatever fag shit that biting thing was

again feel free to add your thoughts and ideas and shit in the reblogs it would be nice to read them :DD!!