#but if i did id lean more into the horror aspects

[grellssquishyhusband]

I made Sebastian scary oop

[blueaetherr]

belle

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!librarian!reader [she/her]

warning(s): tfios references?

summary: the one where jude learns the joys of being a librarian

"I thought you guys wear aprons."

Glancing at Jude, Y/N hung her head back in small yet enjoyable laughter. His joke, as usual, was flat and unfunny yet she couldn't help but indulge in it. Maybe playing with his ego would keep it at bay. She leaned off the library reception and approached Jude, a lanyard in hand. "Comedy is missing out on a special talent, huh," she hummed, placing the lanyard around his neck.

"It's such a shame, really." He glanced over his lanyard and his eyes immediately crinkled from sincere happiness. Today Jude was the library assistant to the librarian, Y/N, and he was required to wear an ID, including his name and picture. His picture, unfortunately, wasn't the most flattering; his eyes were closed and Y/N refused to take another one, declaring the picture as perfect. Somehow, Jude was starting to agree. 

"So," Letting out a small breath, he wondered, "What are the tasks for today?"

Y/N took a quick look around the library. It was only late morning so no one was present, yet she still found her mind spinning from all the things she needed done by noon. "Uh, probably just the usual jobs," she explained, returning back to the reception desk to pick up a few boxes from behind it. "You know like unboxing new book orders, maybe some redecorating for the kids' areas— and I see you're not so excited about it."

Her huff of laughter was in response to Jude's facial expression reading boredom and dread. He was so real; he didn't even try to hide what he was feeling. "I can't lie, I don't know how you enjoy this every day," he said, leaning his hands on the desk.

The truth was Y/N loved her job as a librarian. Every aspect of it fascinated her and every day of work always keep her beaming for the next day. And she spoke about this love— such touching and innocent admiration towards her profession to those around her, from her friends and family to Jude.

Living together, Jude heard about this love and admiration all the time. Whenever they would go out on their afternoon walks, whenever he would pick her up after work, during their late night conversations— Y/N always had more to say and it didn't seem like she would be stopping anytime soon. 

And while Jude was, of course, happy that Y/N was treated right and always enjoyed her time at work, he never understood what it was she loved about it so much. Day and night, he was the one who would hear and listen to these talks about her job yet he was the one who couldn't seem to grasp how working at a library could make someone's happiness, specifically his girlfriend's happiness stretch so far.

"You just gotta lean into it," Y/N shrugged with a smile. From the many discussions they have shared, she knew her words were no longer enough to prove her point to her partner. Maybe it was all down to the experience to convince him otherwise. She pushed the boxes and a box opener in his direction. "Then maybe you'll see."

So Jude did what she said. He did his best to lean into everything Y/N seemed to love so much; returning borrowed books to their original places, making sure books were neat and organised on their respective shelves, and being of service to those who needed his help (even if he wasn't much help). Still, he wasn't able to grasp the simple fun and enjoyment Y/N felt on the regular.

Jude felt lost, maybe even a bit conflicted that he was seemingly so out of touch with something Y/N admired beyond imagination. He tried to indulge in everything from time to time. He would take small glances at the blurbs of random books or pick up books he thought he might like to read at a later date– maybe classics or horror fiction– yet he still wasn't moved, still hadn't caught onto what was so captivating for Y/N that she could remain in the library all day if she wanted to.

With and without logic, Jude knew he should like the library itself to some degree. His profession as a football player required him to be around others every day, something that naturally brought along noise and chaos. The library provided the perfect safe haven for Jude; it gave him the space to unwind for an hour or so after a long day of training or a match while Y/N would finish up her tasks or even listen to his rants without interrupting, letting him be heard in a space that lacked that noise and chaos.

But the same noise and chaos that could irritate Jude could also keep him at ease. Besides, he loved being a football player and he would never let it go despite its downsides.

Taking a seat by reception, Jude sighed softly as he closed his eyes. The wonder on his mind still remained a wonder. What was it about organising books, stacking books and everything in between that was so fascinating?

By reception, one could see everything and everyone, including Y/N who was occupied by the young adult fiction section. Opening his eyes, Jude let his focus solely fall on Y/N. Maybe watching her be a librarian—doing her job, something she loved dearly��perhaps he could learn a thing or two about this fascination of hers. And eventually, he did. 

Her face perked up when the newly ordered books came in the morning, almost dropping the books as she took them out of the delivery book. The excitement present in her eyes when she had finished putting the new book series on display. The happiness she would display, with posture and smiles galore whenever someone new would come in and register for a library card. 

The fun she would experience every time she would climb up and slide on the bookcase ladder, returning and collecting books with familiarity. How at ease and relaxed she became when she got to experience the silence of the library in the morning, finding herself sitting comfortably on a bean bag by the kids' section.

Even the lack of silence was something she could experience with some amusement. Because when it was noon and they had to close the library for an hour, Y/N could get into her unpretending element. Like singing SOS with character and innate personality, exaggeration in her hand gestures and head movements, encouraging Jude to join along as they two shared some laughter and solace, taking their time to reorganise the library before it was time to reopen soon.

Of course, Jude thought to himself. His thought process always was so literal. It wasn't simply the tasks of a librarian that his partner enjoyed so much, but rather everything else that came along with it. The books she could read whenever she wanted to, the community she was able to engage with whenever someone walked through the door and the opportunity of freedom both on and off the job; a space where Y/N could be professional yet genuine just accommodated her so well.

And this understanding for Jude came with participation: he joined along too with the loud singing and hand gestures during lunch, he picked up a book and decided to read it at a later date, he shared her love for the community by reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the kids during story time, and he pushed her excitement to the edge– almost sending her to tears– when he asked for a library card so he could borrow a book.

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Jude." Her eyes were trained on the book in hand, her focus split between the pages and her partner.

"I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void. And that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed. And that there will come a day when all our labour has been returned to dust. And I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you... sorry.”

A smile flourished across her lips as her gaze drifted from her book to Jude, who was sitting on the table she was sitting at. "You know how to charm a girl for sure," she commented, intertwining their fingers together—a comfortable fit. "You memorised all that for me?"

"Of course," Jude said, his charming smile so wide and full of pride. He wanted to impress his girlfriend with her interests, something that required him to be authentic and knowledgeable for a quick second.

But Y/N knew better; she knew Jude too well. Looking past the way he perfectly recited the book quote, it stuck out to her. Not only because she had read the book and watched the film, but rather she had put that same quote on display some time ago on the wall right behind her, conveniently right in Jude's view to rely on. 

Either way, she let Jude rest in his pride and accomplishment to finally engage in her interests. 'Cause at the end of the day, where they could apply to their relationship, he meant every word he spoke as if he was Gus speaking to his Hazel Grace.

By the end of the day, Jude came to realise Y/N was simply a Belle. A princess, obviously, in his eyes and probably in her own right, perhaps even in another life. A rare bibliophile whose wonder for books was extraordinary and delicate; her care for the local community selfless and inspiring; her free spirit alive and rich as a quiet or loud space like a library always just let her do her thing.

So when you put all of that together in one, you get a librarian, a job Jude now knew could source wonderful happiness and delight, he thought as the two headed to their car with plentiful books in hand.

[seijorhi]

asks :))

what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...

What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen

it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha

Just read nostos-

First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳

Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼

ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)

you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty

Omfg that fic was so good!

Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)

Looking forward to your future work <3

ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33

You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!

The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*

A+++++

ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha

I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome

fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha

I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou

ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha

OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕

TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha

Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫

tysm nonnie!!! <33

i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though

bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha

Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now

lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol

your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them

thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader

RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again

‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!

Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.

(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)

Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do

-🥚

GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!

Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld

poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha

Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &

This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin

i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha

That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are

TYSM NONNIE!!! <33

Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---

Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.

Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...

https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ

Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)

~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸

i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby

idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics

i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you

Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!

he most certainly did :))

LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.

id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️

EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh

Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )

To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅

ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺

I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao

kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!

You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤

choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌

what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?

(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)

i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))

[cowboyified]

Below are some WIPs I’m releasing into the wild. They were all written at different times over the past two years so any mistakes/cliches you can blame on past June, I don’t know them. 

Go, be free.

This first one I think is the one I’m most fond of. I had such a vision for it; bottlecaps in trees, river swimming, making out against the fridge, all that good stuff you get with weecest. 

The summer Sam is seventeen they stay in one place for long enough Dean starts referring to it as ‘home’. 

It’s an old farmhouse, miles from any other structure, bar an outhouse and hay shed. There’s a porch running the length of the front and back, the wooden boards pulled up from their nails, wavy with the weather. Weatherboard paint peeling, wallpaper inside torn and missing in most places. 

They’re squatting, technically. The property owned by a family saved by hunters once, friends of friends of Bobby’s, too distraught by what they’d witnessed to raise their kids on cursed land. Dean had told Sam that Dad had been told by Bobby that had been told by Pastor Jim that it was chupacabras. A whole pack of ‘em, feeding off the lambs in the back paddock, tried to take a bite out of the baby girl and Sam had said, “As if man, those things are tiny, I’ve seen pictures, you could kick one and it would limp away like a fucking chihuaha, you scared of chihuahas, huh, Dean?” But Sam still hikes his sheet up under his chin when he hears scuffling under their window between sleep. 

There’s remnants of the house’s past inhabitants still scattered around the place. Sam had stood and slid two inches on the wheels of a tiny replica car that had been jammed under the couch the second day they arrived, piffed it at his brother’s head, who’d caught it, exclaimed that it was Camero, dude, treat her with some respect and had sat it on top of the fridge. 

The bookshelf in the corner of their shared bedroom holds mostly dust and tattered occult books stolen from libraries from all over the country, left by hunters who have found what they’ve needed and moved on. There are a few of the worst Stephen King novels shoved haphazardly on the top shelf and Sam finds something funny in that, the irony in enjoying bad horror when the real deal lurks behind the screen door. 

Dean gives him a look when Sam pulls down and cracks open a copy of The Tommyknockers, snorts, “Haven’t you read that one already?” and Sam says, tucking himself into bed, “Yeah, it fucking sucks, King was royally off his head while writing it, that’s why it’s so good.” Sam finishes three quarters of it in one sitting while listening to Dean’s quiet snores from the other side of the room. 

It’s a ten minute drive to the closest town, an off the highway, invisible to the outside world, kind of one-street community. No reason to take the exit if you don’t already know it’s there, one store, one gas station, one bar in an old brick post office building, unfitting, the carpet pulled up at the corners but home to the best fries Sam has ever had in his life. 

Sam follows Dean out to the courtyard, neither of them are legally old enough to drink but there’s nothing else to do but to get respectably drunk in a place like this, anyone that has lived long enough in the true country is some kind of functioning alcoholic, so Dean orders a beer and isn’t asked for ID. In a town small enough for everyone to know every intricate detail in the threads of dirty laundry, they are foreigners. No one knows where they’re from or where they’re going and Sam knows that Dean likes it that way.

It’s never been a secret that Sam prefers to feel like he has a part in everyday normalcy. Dean thrives under anonymity, gets a kick out of it because it makes him feel dangerous. He had stopped accompanying Sam to school two states ago, a silent agreement with their father when Dean had come home early and helped John cut splits into the tips of bullets instead. Like hell I’m signing up for compulsory extra curricular activities. What’s the point in making friends with people whose biggest concerns are the answers to whatever bullshit test and who fucked who last Friday? 

Finding comfort in a nine-to-five kind of community is a flaw Sam’s been burdened to deal with. 

It’s early afternoon, the courtyard is empty and the table they chose rocks on its legs every time Dean slides his drink over for Sam to share. It’s bitter and Sam hasn’t had enough beer in his life to know if it’s supposed to be like that or if it has just soured from the long journey it took to get from the brewery to their glass. He drinks it and doesn’t grimace because his brother is looking at him through the rays of warm country sun. 

“Tastes like piss, huh,” Dean says, leaning forward out of the light so Sam can see him clearly again. He takes back the glass. 

“S’not that bad,” Sam replies, rubbing the leftover condensation into his hand, doesn’t look at Dean, finds it hard these days, twists in his gut all wrong. Sam knows why. 

His brother hums, “There’s gotta be something else to do around here.”

Sam thinks, Dad’s left the car, we can go wherever we want, but doesn’t say it because his brother is loyal to a disastrous fault. 

That’s a recurring thought. Sam in the shotgun seat, his brother behind the wheel, driving away. Just away, to someplace else and they’d be okay because they’d have each other and all Sam ever needs is his brother, like water. But John will be back in two weeks, term starts again in a month and he needs his father to sign the enrollment forms. Two more years. 

“You see the old dredge outside of town?” Sam asks, remembers passing it when they arrived, all twisted, rusting metal, the bones of it against the setting sun.

“What did I tell you about respecting your elders?”

“You told me that they all smell like porridge and are easily susceptible to sleight of hand. No, Dean, Dredge,” Sam stresses. “Big rusty old machine that pulls minerals out of water.”

“Looking to strike big, Sammy?”

“Yeah, you see, my family is poor, brother at home too dumb to get a job. Our father went to get milk and never came back,” Sam sniffs for effect. “I can’t go home empty handed again, sir.” 

“Ah, a real sob story,” Dean nods in understanding, tips his head back and finishes the beer. “Let’s get out there then, sonny. We shan't let that simpleton, downright fool of a brother go hungry.” Dean jabs Sam in the ribs when he stands, hard enough for him to gasp, gets Sam’s head under his arm before he can recover. Sam claws embarrassingly at his brother’s torso, face pressed warm into the side of Dean’s waist. 

“I will pray for us young Samuel, for I too, dream of riches,” his brother is exclaiming, tripping them out and onto the street. “I only ask that we share whatever bounty dredged as I saw the most exquisite pony a few miles back and I simply must have it.”

And Sam thinks - with his flushed cheek hard against Dean’s skin through the thin sweaty fabric of his shirt, heart beating too fast against his ribs in a way that has nothing to do with exhaustion - you can have it all. 

---

Sam’s brother’s perpetual state of being is ten miles over the speed limit; this can be applied to almost every aspect of him. Dean goes and goes and rarely stops. They’re pushing double that out of town, north of their property, into the forever stretch of flat land and Sam loses himself in it. That idea of away, of going and going and that Dean could take him because he’s an expert in the field. 

The Impala blasts Born To Be Wild and Sam imagines the lyrics spreading out over the dry grass. He rolls the window down and throws his head out, trying his best to keep his eyes open against the road’s wind. The sun beats down, warmth soaking through and into his bones and Sam laughs as the cattle turn to catch a glimpse of them soaring. 

Dean pulls him in, tugs at the back of his shirt, says something along the lines of, what are you, a dog? Should get you a shock collar for all the times you’re a little bitch, but Sam can’t hear him over the roaring of the open window and the look of transparent glee on Dean’s face, it’s loud and assaulting and Sam has to turn away because seeing Dean like that wobbles him dangerously from the nonchalant facade he has going on in relation to how he feels about his brother. But mostly his face hurts from smiling too wide.

Used as a warm up last year. Boyking!Sam

He thinks he’s in Louisiana, maybe. That he got here in the tray of a pickup and that he couldn’t feel the wind in his hair like maybe he should. The driver had stopped for a piss-break and Sam had snapped his neck without his hands.

He rubs them together now, tries to feel guilty but there’s nothing to feel guilty about because his hands are clean; he doesn’t have to use them anymore. 

Sam thinks he’s in Louisiana because he stepped out of the truck and into a wet kind of heat. There’s a church with thick greenery growing over the roof and white wood that’s been mold-blackened by the humidity. He laughs to the darkness because it's very funny to him that he’s driven himself subconsciously to a place of grace. 

He skips up the steps, two at a time, gleefully. The smell of the bayou and rotting wood has put him in a good mood. The lock snaps when he blinks, the chain unraveling and snaking into a coil at his feet. The doors open for him and maybe he did that with his mind too, or maybe they were just expecting him. 

The church has been used recently, its interior better kept than the outside, bibles tucked neatly in the backs of pews, ribbons tied into plaits. The white of the moon falls in blankets through the windows, shadows of leaves moving over the floor like rippling water and the bust of Mother Mary prays for him at the altar. 

Sam spreads his arms and addresses her, says to the room at large, “Shall I repent for my sins, oh Lord?” and it echoes, gives him goosebumps, a current under his skin. He has an audience here because God is omnipresent, this is a place of worship and Sam has always been good at that. 

A church in Louisiana, standing before a plaster of his mother’s namesake in a church for a God he used to think could have some defying factor in a destiny that was always going to be concrete. It’s funny, blatantly. Sam puts his hands gently to Mary’s cold face, kisses her on her lips before crushing her head, spraying ceramic. 

Sam stands behind the lectern, hands red with his own blood now, sticking the pages of the Good Book. He’s read it before anyway. 

“Am I to be forgiven?” 

Last is a casefic I had planned out in 2019. I didn’t get very far into the actual writing part of it, but I still think the setting is cool, less so the plot I had in mind. 

Just outside of Bridgeport, Connecticut there’s a community built on a sandbar. A small secluded semi-island, connected to the mainland by a mile-long beachfront. A town of forty to fifty now abandoned, vandalised residences.

The police find the bodies of the boys there, bleeding out and into the sand, each other’s skin caught under their fingernails. 

Sam watches as his brother pulls the sheet back from one of the corpses, laying blue on the steel morgue tray. He’s a kid, a boy, not even eighteen. Hairless, lanky, multiple stab wounds puckered around his belly and Sam thinks he does not look peaceful for someone who is meant to be at rest. 

Dean is quieter than usual, his body language stiff. They’ve seen their fair share of dead kids but Sam thinks that this one might look a little too much like an adolescent version of himself. Shaggy brown hair, too long limbs, college on the horizon. Sam blankets the sheet back over the boy’s face and hears his brother exhale in what he thinks might be relief.

The coroner tells them that the other two are the same, besides the youngest one. He’d been blinded, thumbs pushed through his eyes until they popped like grapes. He asks if they want to see him too and Sam says no, thank you, we’ve got what we need.

Which is a whole lot of nothing, but they’ve only just arrived and there’s evidence that doesn’t involve corpses that needs to be checked.

“Pussied out in there huh, Sammy?” Dean says as they’re walking down the funeral home’s front steps, past the manicured roses and trimmed lawn. You see these perfect hedges? We’ll treat your dead mother with the same detailed care!

Sam pulls at his tie and scoffs because he knows he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable standing in the morgue; cases that involve kids always rub them both wrong.

[redcreekstudios]

Red Creek: dark realm Chapter 4: i see demons

Warning: this story contains, violance, weapons, death, suicide, gore, horror aspects, and other forms of death and horror, talk of spirits religion and the underworld and things manifested in between. if not prepared do not read i wouldnt want anyone to get triggered the grass stood still but tall enough to where you couldn't see the ground, as the grass led to the cabin, beaten battered as if it stood in a million wars murders before it. Clark would have his eye twitch as he saw a shadow man rise from the ground and look twords Clark and crick its neck as if it where broken by something. more bodies of shadows rose up, some had pieces broken off parts of limbs and parts of their face were missing. Clark shivered a bit and saw his breath in the cold air as he kept his eye on the cabin but was distracted by the whispers of the disembodied people. some of them were kind others tormented by hate and loss "you have nice eyes" whispered one "kill kill kill" said another "you haven't lost your mind?" asked one as the voices got louder and he felt a hand touch his shoulder and he looked back holding his gun to Marcus's chest "GAH!-" his breath had left him and he sighed "damn it im-...im sorry" he continued to apologize and he looked back to the cabin as Marcus was scared but wasn't terrified "Deputy i think it is time to leave" he said as he looked at the sky as the sky burned orange "you know the legend of mountain man deputy im sure Otis told ya mountain mans out here we gotta go" he said sounding more afraid as the sky almost looked empty with a few clouds overhead as well, the whispers had stopped but one sounded like a girl and it caught Clark's attention "hi Clark...i miss you" it said as he looked in the window of the cabin and there was another shadow figure tall slender and its head tilted like all the others "it'll be to late before we get back, the cabin is our only shot. ill take first look" he said slowly making his way and he looked at Marcus "come on" he said as the sun had set on the right of the left of the mountain and the moon slowly had risen from the grave as Marcus followed. the silence was broken by a grunt and a kick and the door swung open and Clark held his gun up and his flashlight "what the hell..." he said taking a step inside and looked at the walls and table with a metal tea set and skeleton hand rested clutching a knife, "this place is pure evil..." Marcus said as he slowly closed the door and he rubbed his hands together "i dont suppose you have a lighter?" he said as Clark was crouched on the floor and ran his fingers against the floor "...dried blood? or...something else" he said as he looked to Marcus "oil lantern is on the table along with this furnace and appears to be a second one in the room down the hall" Clark said and shifted his sleeve on his arms and sighed "ill check it out" he said handing him a metal lighter "hurry up ok?" he said to Marcus nodded and got to it as Clark slowly made his way to the backrooms two doors both of which were bedrooms. in his dream the room was on the left so he opened it slowly with his gun drawn and held his flashlight up and and he looked around the room "this place...its...sad" he said feeling a sadness and force around his chest as he walked in further and saw a music box along with a toy box and cradle "a child? this...this is impossible" he said looking at the bookshelf and narrowing his eyes "this place...inst even on any maps of trails nor towns" he said as he heard shuffling behind him and a dismembered laugh as he held his gun up and looked around "hey Marcus?!" he called out as he heard a reply "yeah?" he called back as Clark looked at the ceiling and there was a hole and what looked like a hand sliding away from it above "is that fire started?!" he asked and Marcus slowly opened the door with his boot and Clark saw the light of the lantern and out of fear jumped and put his gun in its holster "...knock next time but good work" he said walking out of the room and into the

main entrance room and sat at the table "so deputy why is it you dragged me out here?" he said raising a brow and opened his bag pulling out a

bottle of whiskey and two glasses, Clark looked at the bottles and took his hat off and set it to the side "well if i told you id sound like Otis or just crazy" he said laughing at himself a bit

looking to Marcus as he poured their drinks "oh come on deputy ive heard crazier stories by that old hag and more importantly i wont tell anyone even if you were crazy" he said sliding his glass to Clark, he looked at it and took it drinking it and put it back on the table "well...i saw this place in a dream" he leaned back in his seat as Marcus chuckled a bit "well explain this dream to me" he said already finished his shot "well it was like i was here but their was a family and a father mother and their child but it was off their was a presence like...like something bad was going to happen" he said putting his hands together and pumped his foot a bit as he looked out the window "and what happened next its...its a blur" he said looking to Marcus as he finished another shot "sure...hey you said a family right? husband and his wife along with his kid?" he said raising an eyebrow "sounds like the Becker family" Marcus said as he hooked the lantern on a pole sticking out of the wall "legend has it the wife was forced into the marriage but didn't speak much and they had a child...they were only one when they died poor guy..." he said as Clark had a look of confusion "wait like mountain man?" he ask pointing his finger twords him and narrowed his eyes again "no no mountain man was long dead after this it was around say 1818? but it was after the mountain man story thats for sure" he said as he looked to Clark "but as i was saying the wife and the child were in danger they had this house built but the husband didn't know, so the wife takes the child with her" he continued saying and took another drink, the crackling of firewood and flames could be heard in the corner "the husband found them though and luckily enough he came alone, but the man enters and well with a gun and fires a shot hitting the wall to my your left but was killed by a swing of the axe by his wife" he said and looked down "as for the child?" Clark asked as Marcus looked up swirling his glass "the bullet...went through...the wall..." he said as he rose a brow and Clark felt a stir inside his stomach "horrible" he said pushing his glass away" Marcus nodded and looked to the fire "as for the wife? she disappeared into the woods never to be seen again" he said as some sparks flew from the furnace "wandering looking for her lost child...forever" it started to get really dark outside as the moon had peaked in the sky "im going to sleep now alright?" asked Marcus and he set out his sleeping bag and slept on the floor, the fire from the furnace would keep the house warm but the second one was still needed, so he went back into the kids room and looked at the cradle and had tears in his eyes as he filled the furnace and heard a voice "i was watching her" it said as Clark stood up and looked to the window and saw the mountain man standing tall as his coat covered his body with his satchel and wooden mask with antlers his lantern lighting up his side a bit "the woman had no choice" Clark felt his heart race and watched him "y-you can...talk" he asked the man and he chuckled a bit "so it seems but i never thought you'd hear me" he said as he set the lantern on the table "my curse is what you see my soul trapped in the hands of hell" Clark tilted his head "c-curse? hell? soul? what?" the man nodded "yes you'll see soon enough i grant you a night of peace" he said before Clark blinked and he was gone again and Clark finally lit the fire and looked at the bookshelf seeing a brown book and it had gold lining and he took it "property of Rose Becker" he flipped through pages and their were scriptures legends prophecies and other kinds of beast monsters demons angels souls and relics within them "what the hell...was she crazy or was she...doing something" he said before taking it out of the room and into the room Marcus was sleeping in ad sat down watching the fire. the dawn of a new day slowly casted over the cabin and Marcus awoke and sat up "deputy?" he said seeing Clark half asleep leaning on the table "Jesus deputy did you sleep at all?" he said as he got up and packed

his things "yeah im fine just couldn't sleep as hard as you can haha" he laughed a bit and yawned as he got up slowly, they left the cabin and he saw in the window the girl pressed against the window and he heard her whisper again "dont leave me..." it said as Clark looked back from the treeline "ill figure it out..." he said to himself as Marcus looked back "say something?" he said as Clark watched the shadow dissipate into nothing "n-no just lets go" he said as they walked away and made it back into town and he was dropped off in town and Clark would wave him off as he looked at his hand and the book "i need answers" he said to himself before walking in town and made his way to a school and looked at it as the sky flickered red again and he looked forward at himself in the reflection and was scared of himself as he waited for the bell of the church to ring

[xb-squaredx]

B-Squared’s Top 10 Games of 2020

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that having something to distract me from the genuine horrors unleashed during 2020 was vital to staying alive, and for me that means a lot of video games! I played…a lot of games last year, but I spent a lot of time playing older games, so I didn’t get a chance to check out a lot of high-profile games that launched this year. Still, I do want to shine a light on the games that managed to resonate with me even a little bit, that somehow managed to launch this year. So let’s get to it!

#10 – No Straight Roads

Rarely have I been struck by a single trailer for a game like I was for No Straight Roads. Produced by industry veterans under a new studio, this is a rare game that’s not quite an indie game from a studio full of newbies, but it’s also not produced with the same kind of budget and resources of a Triple-A project. What do we call this? A Double-A game? Single-A? Regardless, I have to give the team at Metronomik some props for delivering a super stylish game in the midst of a very challenging year. No Straight Roads is a rhythm-based action game where two up-and-coming musicians fight to bring back Rock and Roll to the people of Vinyl City. I absolutely adore this game’s presentation, with each major boss being visually unique and having their own feel that compliments the music they bring to battle. There’s some real energy in these animations with character designs that ooze personality, and being a game about music the soundtrack is great! All that being said though, I have to admit I wasn’t a huge fan of the gameplay when all was said and done. It leans way more on the rhythm side of the equation than I was hoping for, and the action felt very shallow. The fixed camera made some phases of some fights a real problem, and the Switch verison, which I played, is plagued with a lot of issues that really brought the game down for me. If the game interests you at all, give it a shot on PC or PS4; I hear those versions are a lot better. Still, I liked the potential I saw in this game and in this studio, so I can only hope they did well enough to continue on. This definitely feels like the kind of passion project that deserves more recognition.

#9 – Streets of Rage 4

OK, so full disclosure: I didn’t grow up with 2D beat-em-ups. I missed out on all of the greats of the genre back in the day. No Final Fight, no River City Ransom, no Double Dragon, and definitely no Streets of Rage. In more recent years I have tried to dip my toe in the genre, as I did in 2019 with River City Girls. However, I came away from that game a bit disappointed by the overall gameplay and wondered if 2D beat-em-ups were for me. Seeing so much praise heaped onto Streets of Rage 4 had me curious, so I knew I had to try it, if only to broaden my experience in the genre. In many ways, this game is the perfect sequel to a franchise that hasn’t seen any signs of new life in years. It retains what made the series beloved with satisfying combat and challenge, but with a modern touch. The overall art style of the game and music work out pretty well, and I found the act of comboing enemies to be really satisfying. It really doesn’t overstay its welcome either, which is very appreciated in an age of endless timesinks. I also struggled a fair bit with the game, even on Normal, and well after some patches that seemed designed for more casual fans like me. Had this game not had online co-op as an option, I don’t know if I could have beaten the final levels. So my time with this game was pretty rough but despite that I can still see this was a game made with care, and if this game DOES do something for you, there’s plenty of reasons to keep playing on higher difficulties, unlocking more characters and even playing online with friends. Let me put it this way; I’m not all that sure I like the genre and I still liked this game, so I think that counts for something!

#8 – The Wonderful 101: Remastered

…this one is kind of cheating, I’ll admit! I had a lot of trouble thinking up ten games that really stood out to me this year, honestly. That said, I’ll definitely use loopholes to plug one of my favorite games from years ago. Seven years ago, PlatinumGames launched The Wonderful 101 on the ill-fated Wii U, where it bombed harder than just about anything on the system. For those that gave the game a shot, however, they were quick to discover a deep, complex, and charming action game that plays like nothing else out there. Controlling a team of 100 heroes at once, players form weapons out of the various Wonderful One’s bodies, smacking around giant robots and aliens far larger than them with the power of teamwork! How could you not love that, right?! Now, years later, PlatinumGames is aiming to become more independent and their first act was launching a Kickstarter as a way to get this game on newer platforms. While we may never know why Nintendo gave Platinum their blessing to release this game on non-Nintendo platforms (being as this is still, as far as I know, a Nintendo-owned IP), I’m just glad more people can have access to one of the most unique action games I’ve ever touched.

To sell it another way, this game combines the overall aesthetic of Viewtiful Joe with the shape-drawing action of Okami but with a bit of Bayonetta flair on the side. Basically, this is the culmination of everything director Hideki Kamiya has ever worked on. The Remastered version fixes some issues present from the game’s original release, and while I do think they could have gone a bit further with some changes, it is likely the best way to play the game for many. All those sections that made heavy use of the Wii U GamePad are a tad awkward though, but that held true even back on the Wii U anyway…d-don’t worry so much about that, though! I’d still recommend this game to anyone looking for the type of over-the-top action that only Platinum (and occasionally Capcom) can provide! So please consider joining the Wonderful Ones and Unite Up!

#7 – Paper Mario: The Origami King

Discourse around the Paper Mario series is…more than a little rough, honestly! Many fans have been quite vocal about not liking the direction the series has been heading with the last few games, but I went into The Origami King with an open mind and ended up really enjoying the game for the most part! What the game lacked in a developed storyline, it made up for with some really strong character moments and memorable setpieces. Bobby and Olivia are among my favorite partners in ANY of the Mario RPGs, easily, and the entirety of the Great Sea section of the game was a really fun adventure. I love the highly-detailed paper-crafted enemies and locales, and the soundtrack really didn’t have to go as hard as it did. While the battles against common enemies didn’t quite click with me, the boss battles throughout the game constantly surprised me with interesting twists on the ring-based combat and are a real highlight for me. I know this game is pretty divisive amongst Paper Mario fans, but I think the franchise has a pretty bright future ahead of it!

#6 – DOOM Eternal

Fair warning here, but I haven’t quite managed to beat DOOM Eternal at the time of writing this, but what I’ve played so far tells me it definitely belongs here. I think Eternal is hands-down the most intense game I’ve played in a long time. It gets my blood pumping as I dash about, shooting and slicing through demons that are extremely eager to rip and tear me to pieces. I don’t play many shooters in general, so I knew I was going to be in for a rough time, but DOOM Eternal brings it to another level right away. In some respects, I don’t quite agree with various aspects of the core game design that makes the game harder than I think it needs to be at times. The scarcity of ammo, and thus the constant need to use the Chainsaw weapon in order to gain more ammo gets tiring, though that somewhat levels off as more weapons are acquired and players learn of more efficient ways to take out the hordes of Hell. The game’s fantastic soundtrack by Mick Gordon definitely elevates the experience, so it is a huge bummer knowing that he and ID Software had a falling out and he won’t be coming back. I really dig the game’s expansive levels and more focus being put on exploring every nook and cranny for secrets, and certain old-school touches like finding extra lives or cheat codes definitely makes the game feel like it was ripped out of a bygone era and given a modern paintjob at times. Doom is eternal, and with it, so is pulse-pounding shooting action!

#5 – Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition

Compared to the other re-release of an old game on this list, I think this particular title had a lot more time and care put into it…and it also happens to enhance one of my favorite games on Wii as a bonus! Xenoblade Chronicles on Wii was a game that almost passed me by but even years later, I still adored the characters and world it introduced, and I’ve been happy to see what started as game that was almost stuck in Japan eventually grow into a full franchise. I consider the first game to the best in the series, though it was held back by a few issues later games would iron out. Chief among the problems was the visuals, particularly the character models and…wow does ten years make a world of difference. The Definitive Edition does more than just clean up everyone’s faces, it also cleaned up the game’s cluttered UI, made it easier to track quests and materials for said quests, and added some fun optional challenge missions for veterans to tackle. The bow that adorns the top of this package, however, is the epilogue story Future Connected that serves to tie up some loose ends and gives a particular character some great closure. If you love massive worlds to explore, a compelling, at times over-the-top story, and a deep, rewarding combat system, I can’t recommend THIS version of THIS game enough. If you’re going to give the Xenoblade series a try, there’s no better place to start.

#4 – Ghost of Tsushima

When Ghost of Tsushima was first unveiled years ago, I didn’t exactly have a high opinion of it. It seemed like a game that put more emphasis on visuals over gameplay, and I was almost certain it would launch as a PS5 exclusive so why bother getting excited when I probably wasn’t going to be an early adopter of the system? To my great surprise, not only was this game confirmed for PS4, it wound up being one of the prettiest games on the platform and well-optimized to boot, even on my old slim PS4. Playing as lone samurai Jin Sakai, players try to repel the Mongel invasion of Japan, but are forced to adopt less-than-honorable tactics to take on this ruthless enemy. Usually when I play stealth games, I find myself frustrated. I feel weak, or limited, and often the games feel overly harsh. If you get caught once, game over and there’s little salvaging being seen. In Ghost of Tsushima however, there’s a great deal more care put into stealth, and at times I’d argue it’s almost too fun to pass up over the sword play. Very few missions in the game force you to go completely unseen, so stealth just because yet another tool rather than a limitation imposed on you.

Swordplay felt a bit less engaging against common enemies (typically just being Simon Says, switching to the appropriate stance for a given enemy), but the one-on-one duels throughout the game were fantastic and I almost wish the game was all about them instead. I can’t overstate how gorgeous this game is either, with a world that feels like it is breathing, as the wind whips through the tall grass, the moon penetrates fog overtaking a creepy forest, or seeing the smoke from an enemy camp wafting over the distance. Hands-down one of the best-looking games on the PS4, and I’m particularly happy that developer Sucker Punch managed to land a hit with a new IP, as those generally feel more risky as times go on. While I’d argue that Ghost of Tsushima doesn’t really redefine how open-world games should be designed, it is an extremely polished experience and manages to do it well, with plenty of opportunities to grow in a potential sequel.

#3 – Animal Crossing: New Horizons

If there’s any one game that people absolutely needed in 2020, it was Animal Crossing: New Horizons. While there are other games of this type, like Stardew Valley or the Harvest Moon (and later, Story of Seasons games), Animal Crossing is one of the few games that gets mainstream attention while simultaneously running counter to most mainstream gaming trends. No conflict, no combat, no overarching story really…just a game that lets you live your live, day by day on your own terms. I tried getting into the series before with New Leaf but just didn’t stick with it, but New Horizons launched at the perfect time in an imperfect world. Being able to escape the uncertainty and dread that enveloped the world as the pandemic spread for even a little while was a necessity, and thankfully New Horizons had plenty to do to keep idle hands busy. Changes like item crafting and eventually limited terraforming of your island paradise give players so much more agency in decorating their homes and building up something they can be proud of.

We all start as nothing but a small tent on a mostly-empty island, but seeing what people were able to do even in the first few weeks or so was nothing short of amazing. We need more unflinchingly wholesome games in the world, and I’m thankful for Animal Crossing for being there when we needed it, and considering how well it sold and how much post-launch content is expected to be added with time, it remains a sanctuary to return to even now. Just…please let us craft in bulk? Pretty please, Nintendo?

#2 – Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity

Last year, Nintendo released Astral Chain, a game that no one knew about before release, which was revealed and released with very little gaps between them. It was a game I didn’t know I wanted until it was presented to me, and that trend continues this year with Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. The first Hyrule Warriors was a fun, surprising spin-off of the main Legend of Zelda series, and Breath of the Wild was a fantastic game that shook up the core of the Zelda franchise, so in hindsight it really does seem like a no-brainer to combine the two into one package. Age of Calamity, for my tastes at least, cuts down on the repetition and overall stressful atmosphere of the first Hyrule Warriors and instead focused on fleshing out it’s core combat and crafting more creative main storyline missions. It helps that the game reimagines iconic locales from Breath of the Wild from before their destruction, and really makes you feel like you’re fighting through actual places rather than just a collection of random keeps that most Warriors games use.

Bringing in aspects like the Sheikiah Slate and Elemental Rods allows players to control the flow of combat more directly on top of letting them be more creative. Freeze enemies standing over water with the Cryonis rune or burn some grass with the Fire Rod to distract certain enemies, among many other things. Each playable character is also very distinct, even in cases where I could have forgiven the developers for reusing some attacks or traits. For one, Link has different movesets for his Sword and Shield, Spear, and Two-Handed weapons, but none of his attack overlap with the other Champions who use similar weapons. Some people might be put off with certain aspects of this game’s story and ultimately not everyone likes the overall structure of the Warriors spinoffs anyway, but for my part, Age of Calamity was one of the best surprises of the year, unveiled right at the end of the year in the nick of time. Of course, there was one game this year that surprised me more than any other.

#1 – Hades

I’ve known of Supergiant Games for quite a while and very recently began looking through their catalogue of games. They’re known for well-crafted narratives and satisfying combat, and yet when I first saw Hades when it was released in Early Access I was tepid on it. It didn’t look bad or anything, but it didn’t exactly blow me away and even now, I think a random screenshot or quick clip of the game might not do the game justice in explaining the appeal. I already wrote about the game at-length (as my only real non-retrospective blog post of the year, oops!), which you can read here if you want more in-depth praise, but to summarize…Hades is the total package for me.

Playing as Prince Zagreus your end-goal is to escape the puts of Hell, and more specifically get away from your overbearing father, Hades. It’s a rogue-lite, meaning you’re expected to finish the game in one shot and if you die you lose any upgrades you picked up along the way and have to start from scratch…to a point. Hades does allow you to keep a fair amount of items you pick up which can towards small, permanent upgrades or even gifts for various NPCs that can deepen your bond with them. Unlike most other games of this type too, the story constantly moves forward, even after death. The game is about dying over and over and then dusting yourself off to try again, all the while other characters remark on your progress or lack thereof. I grew to really enjoy this cast of characters, a fun spin on the Greek pantheon, paired with excellent voice acting for the entire cast. From the imposing, if somewhat sultry Megaera, to the nervous wreck that is the maid, Dusa, to the pompous ass Theseus, I looked forward to each new run just to learn more about this world and those within it. For once, death wasn’t really a punishment, but a reward, and just part of the process.

Of course, incredibly satisfying combat is ALSO part of the process and it just gets…addicting; muttering “one more run” over and over as you try out different weapons and boons, discovering what works well together and what doesn’t. While at first beating the game felt like it would never happen, I grew from my failures, adapted and eventually overcame. Multiple times. If you want the “full” Hades experience, this game can really demand a lot of time out of you but at the same time it stays fresh, so I can’t really complain. With new gameplay mechanics unlocking as time goes on, to the Pacts of Punishment players can trigger if they want a bit more challenge (or a lot more), Hades is that rare game that just keeps giving and giving. Before I knew it, I had dumped well over 50 hours into it, and I STILL need to get back to the game if I want that epilogue.

Compared to every other game that came out this year, Hades is the one game that grabbed me from moment one and would not let go until I hit credits. When I wasn’t playing this game, I was counting down the minutes until I could play it again, and let me tell you that is rare for me these days. At this point, Hades is clearly the breakthrough hit for Supergiant and I couldn’t be happier. The fact that this game got to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with industry titans at The Game Awards is kind of surreal, but I can’t think of many who deserve that recognition more. It helps that Supergiant is a studio that actually takes care of its employees, which is way rarer than it should be. I don’t mean to hype this game up like it’s the cure for COVID or anything, but I mean it with all my heart that this was the best game I played this year, and I’d recommend it in a heartbeat. I couldn’t stop talking about it for months after playing it, just ask my friends! So yeah, it’s pretty OK I guess.

CONCLUSION

I’m sure my Top 10 List looks a lot different from most out there, but that’s what’s great about games! So much variety and so much quality no matter where you look! Every year, without fail, there’s always at least a small handful of games that come out that I don’t get to, and try as I might I’ll never trim that backlog down. I want to keep playing games for as long as I can, trying out so many different experiences and seeing what this wonderful pastime can offer. For a good chunk of 2020 I was more than a little down, not just because of…you know, but a lot of games that were coming out weren’t appealing to me. That said, seeing as this was the year of shadow drops and announcing things at the last minute, I ended up loving a bunch of games I hadn’t already spend months hyping myself up for, which definitely helped to lift me up this year. Already, 2021 has a lot of titles I’m anticipating though, so it’s sure to be an exciting year.

Happy Gaming.

-B

[strwbrryeos]

Algea’s Nest (M)

summary; They don't know how they got there. Jin thinks something went wrong at the Jump Point. Namjoon doesn't really care. All he knows is that it's his job as captain and leader to protect his crewmates/bondmates, and he will get them home.

genre; sci-fi au, space au, smut, heavy angst

pairing; space captain!namjoon x space crew!everyone

contains; riding, blowjob, handjob, cum swallowing, pet names, bangtan are so in love with each other, I mean so in love, they’re soulmates, uh improper space-y terminology I'm sure, dark ending, disturbing themes, minor psychological horror aspects

A/N; I purposefully left out some tags plus the specific au of this fic because it would give away a major plot element! Overall I don’t think it’s that bad, but I can’t speak for everyone so just please be careful and take care of yourself! 

Namjoon wakes last.

The voices in his head are far and distant, and he can feel someone trying to pull him out of his daze. Everything seems to be going in slow motion, sounds muffled and lights blurred.

But then he hears a distinctly recognizable voice say, “Gently now,” and he starts to remember who he is and where he’s supposed to be. 

“Careful, he’s still coming off the effects of the tank.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I got it,” says someone else, and though Namjoon can’t quite place it, he knows well enough to scoff at the tone. 

“Disrespectful,” he mutters, and that earns him a laugh from somewhere. 

“Even with tank sickness he knows you’re a brat, Kook.” 

Kook. That’s a name he knows.

“Maybe I should just put him back under.”

“Brat!” 

“Come on, baby,” Jin whispers. “We’re here.” 

Namjoon’s eyes open slowly, the light pouring in, and Jin stands in front of him, kind face leaning in to give him a kiss. “Jin…” Namjoon breathes.

“That’s me. Are you okay?” 

Namjoon nods. “Dizzy.” 

“Yeah, I know. Jimin’s having trouble coming off of it too. You’ll be okay soon.” 

“Where is he?”

“Over here.”

Namjoon looks up to find a sickly looking Jimin waving at him from the crew seats. Taehyung is cupping his face sweetly, no doubt trying to ease the pain for him. Not much any doctor can do about tank sickness, though. 

“Come on,” Taehyung says with a wave of his hand. “I need to check you out too.”

“Can’t check me out from there?” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, and Namjoon can hear Jin snicker behind him. “Can you not flirt for once and come over here so you don’t die?”

“I’m not gonna die. Just have a headache.” 

Namjoon sits beside Jimin anyway, letting Taehyung examine the both of them thoroughly. Eventually Taehyung shrugs and sighs, and he puts his medical kit away. “Drink this,” he says, handing the both of them a vial of blue liquid. “You’ll be better in an hour or two.”

Namjoon and Jimin drink it obediently. 

“Okay.” Namjoon stands a little faster than necessary, earning an annoyed huff from Taehyung. He sways, but that doesn’t stop him. “Let’s get to work.” 

“Uh, about that…” 

“What?”

Jin looks at him from across the ship with worry, sharing mysterious glances with the rest of his crewmates. 

“What?” he repeats. 

“I’ll get Yoongi,” Jin replies cryptically, and suddenly Namjoon is nervous that something has gone terribly wrong.

When Yoongi and Jin return, he comes to find out that, well, something is terribly wrong. 

“We ended up off course.”

“Huh?”

“We’re in the Ater Sector. Near the Balvora System.” 

Namjoon blinks. Then it hits him. 

“What?” 

“It’ll be alright―”

“How the fuck did this happen? Balvora? How did we end up here? How the fuck is this alright?”

“Look, I know, but something must’ve gone wrong with at the Jump Point―”

“There’s no way. Sure, the jumps may get us off by a few systems, but light years? We’re on the other side of the fucking galaxy!”

Jin takes a step forward, his boots clanking on the metal of the ship. He reaches a comforting hand out to Namjoon and begs him to calm down and listen. 

“I know,” he says soothingly, “but shit happens. This isn’t unheard of, is it?” 

“I have never heard of it,” Jimin supplies helpfully. 

Jin sends him a scathing look, and Jimin ducks behind Jungkook. Namjoon sits on a passenger bench, his knees weak from stress. This is his crew. His mates. It’s his job to keep them safe. And now what?

Jin―who he swears his able to read his mind―pulls him into a tight embrace. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers. “I know we might not have a lot going for us, but we have each other, and we’ve always managed to get through, haven’t we?” 

Namjoon nods. Jin is right. They’ve gotten through some weird, terrible stuff. They can get through this. 

“And it’s not so bad,” Jungkook says. “We’ve got plenty of food and water reserves, and we’ve got the best damn captain to lead us back to civilization.”

Namjoon laughs and opens his arms, beckoning Jungkook in for a much needed hug. Jungkook’s eyes light up, and he takes the opportunity gleefully, falling right into his arms. “I love you,” Namjoon mutters into his neck, and he can feel Jungkook’s heart race just a bit faster. 

Noise from the pit door capture his attention, and he sees Hoseok walking in looking a little distressed. “Bad news,” he says, and Namjoon’s not sure how much more bad news he can take in such a short span of time.

“We’ve got damage to the hull and engine bay. It’ll take me some time to fix it.” 

“I can help you,” Jungkook chimes in.

Hoseok nods. “And Jungkook can help me. But with the two of us, and possibly Yoongi”―Yoongi shakes his head with a hard no―“it’ll still take a while.” 

“Then I’ve got good news for all of you!” Jin exclaims, standing up from his sit beside Namjoon. “I’m pretty sure there’s a repair station around here.” 

“...well that’s convenient.”  

“Isn’t it?” 

“Yoongi, go check.”

Yoongi obeys, heading to the center console to examine the sector map. The hologram lights up with different shades of blue and orange, giving everyone a perfect display of their whereabouts. There’s not much―a lone checking station, and of course the Balvora System, but even that’s small. But not too far from them is indeed a repair station. 

“Who is it that said Jin is always right?”

“Me,” Jin answers. “You’re welcome.”

“Hoseok,” Namjoon says, Jungkook still cuddled tightly in his arms, “do you think you can get us there?” 

Hoseok shrugs. “Probably. You’re gonna have to let my sidekick go, though.” 

“Sidekick? Really?”

“Come on. I’ll suck your dick later as a thank you.”

That gets Jungkook moving, and he’s breaking himself out of Namjoon’s arms. 

“Inappropriate, guys,” Yoongi says, but that only earns him a, “You can join too!” from Jungkook, and the two of them are disappearing. 

“I hate them,” he mutters.

“It’s okay, Yoon. We know you don’t.” 

The ship starts to rock under them, and Namjoon feels kind of stupid for not realizing that they have been stationary for all this time. He’s just so used to assuming that, well, if they’re floating around in space, they should be moving. The ship lurches, and Namjoon stumbles, but pretty soon it’s moving fairly consistently. 

The repair station comes into view far faster than he anticipated, and Namjoon double checks the map. He supposes he misread the coordinates because sure enough, it lines up, and Jungkook and Hoseok are calling for them to strap in. They release a beam to the station, and once they’re all secured, it starts pulling them in.

“Welcome, Ship: Bangtan. Captain: Kim Namjoon,” says an automated voice, “to Sector: Ater. Repair Station ID: 061313. Please wait until transport is secured before exiting.” 

There’s a pause, a rattle, and the sway of the ship as it settles.

“Transport secured.”

Hoseok and Jungkook are the first ones out of their seats, their buckles hitting the ship with a loud, metal-on-metal clang. “Come on. Wanna get out of here.” 

“Running isn’t going to make the ship fix itself any faster.”

“I know, Jin, but maybe it’ll get me there faster so I can fix the ship.”

“Man,” Taehyung says as they watch the two exit, “he gets cranky when we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere.”

“You say it like we took a wrong turn.”

“I mean, technically speaking, we did, didn’t we?” 

Yoongi stares at Taehyung a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you need to go resupply your stuff or something?”

“Oh yeah!”  Taehyung says and dashes away. 

Namjoon stands, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “C’mon. Why don’t you get off and cool down a bit?”

“I have work to do.”

“Yoongi…”

“Well the ship’s not gonna reroute itself, is it?”

Namjoon follows Yoongi to the cockpit as he begins tracing the flight pattern. “Yoon…” he starts gently.

“Don’t. This is on me, okay? And I’ll fix it.” 

“Don’t do that to yourself.” Namjoon slides into the seat next to him. “No one could’ve expected this.” 

“It shouldn’t have happened at all, Joon,” Yoongi replies sternly, his eyes fixed with rapt attention on the symbols that appear rapidly before him. Namjoon can’t decipher any of them. “I’m in charge of navigations. I was supposed to make sure we got where we were going. And I didn’t. Who else can you blame?”

Namjoon sighs, eyes turning briefly to look out the front window. The stars are distant, but they still dot the universe beautifully. There’s a colorful nebula painting the expanse of darkness, and Namjoon is always taken aback at how magnificent space truly is.

“You can blame me,” he says, eyes still trained on the vastness before him. “It’s my job to check and double check. To make sure everything is in order. To make sure my crewmates are safe.” 

“Joon―”

“To make sure my loved ones are safe.” 

Namjoon offers him a sad smile and leans in to kiss him. It’s short but powerful, and the two break away only to press their foreheads together in a moment of closeness.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispers.

“Me too.”

“We’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

Their moment is interrupted by the approaching steps of Jin, his footfalls echoing loudly around the ship. “Everything okay in here?”

“Never been better,” Yoongi replies sorely. 

Jin scoffs. “C’mon. You need to eat.”

“Not hungry,” they reply simultaneously, and Jin gives them the scariest look. More frightening than finding out they were floating around in space, honestly. 

“I will force this down your throats myself. Come on.” 

Yoongi and Namjoon exchange a look before heaving themselves out of their seats as if Jin were physically pulling them along. They talk hurriedly and hushed, blatantly ignoring the way Jin tries to steer the topic onto anything else. They’ve only just made it into the cafeteria of the repair station when Jin finally says, “I will murder both of you. You can be stressed, but for the sake of everyone else, especially the young ones, please chill out with the doomsday talk.”

Yoongi and Namjoon frown but nod, knowing full well that he’s right. “Sorry, Jin. Are they doing okay?”

“Do you think they’re doing okay? Jungkook’s probably doing the best, but only because he has stuff to do with Hoseok. You left the other two hanging and I can only do so much.” 

Namjoon lets out another tired sigh. Jin’s right (as always). He’s supposed to be the face, the leader. He’s supposed to guide his mates through times like these. 

“Ah, fuck. You’re right. I should’ve―”

“Nope,” Yoongi says, cutting him off quickly.

“But I―”

“What did you just tell me, huh? This is a team effort, okay? You’re not in this alone, Joon. We love you.” 

Namjoon nods. “I love you too.”

“C’mon,” Jin says. “They’re waiting.”

Jin takes them both by the hand and leads them to the table where the rest of the crew awaits. The cafeteria is empty save for them, white tables and tiles looking industrial and eerie, and Namjoon’s not used to such an abandoned station. Guess that’s how it is on the edge of the universe. 

“Hey, baby,” Namjoon greets, slipping his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder as Yoongi does the same to Jimin. “How’re you holding up?”

Taehyung shrugs and scoots closer to his side.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Whatever we want,” Hoseok says. “There’s a whole army of bored kitchen bots that are dying to make a feast.”

Jungkook grins. “I’m okay with a feast.”

“That’s ‘cause your stomach is bottomless, sweetie.”

Beeping and rattling erupts from the kitchen, and Namjoon watches as robots bustle around, preparing whatever recipes have been stored into their hard drive. No doubt Hoseok asked for a round of everything. They move in perfect sync, and it isn’t long before food is being placed in front of the seven men. It’s the only hint of color in the otherwise monochrome room, and Namjoon might have some philosophical remark to say about it if he weren’t so damn hungry.

The food is good, though there’s a metallic-y taste underneath it―a certain un-foodlike quality that stings Namjoon’s taste buds, but he boils it down to expired food packets in a wasting station. There’s probably very little restocking around here. 

Once everyone has had their fill, Jin mentions that they should start looking into the accommodation rooms. He’s met with brief resistance by Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok―all of whom want to continue working―but they’re rebutted by logical arguments and pouty faces. (“Please?” Jimin whined. “We just want you all to take a rest.”) 

The rooms are luxurious and spacious, perfect for a group of seven. It’s convenient, Namjoon thinks, but most accommodation rooms are stupidly large anyway because stations are usually overcrowded and far larger crews are expected to share a bed.

The rest of the crew is a bit more upbeat than Namjoon would have predicted. Taehyung is humming pleasantly as he changes, and Jungkook is harmonizing with him from the bathroom. Hoseok is laughing loudly at Jin’s plethora of terrible jokes, and even Yoongi―who’s notorious for his seriousness in even the most light-hearted situations―is cracking a smile. It’s odd, considering their predicament, but Namjoon can’t help but feel at ease. Yes, everything about their situation is a little worse than awful, but when they’re together, Namjoon doesn’t really mind at all. 

Granted, as leader and captain, there’s still a nagging fear in him―a worry about what his next move is―but the rest of them are quick to sniff it out, and they’re all eagerly comforting him before he really has time to get inside his own head. 

“Joonie,” Taehyung croons sweetly, peppering his face with the softest of kisses (that’s one of the things Namjoon loves most about Tae; he’s all tactile comfort and it never fails to make him smile), “all this worrying is going to leave a permanent crease in your forehead.” 

“Sorry. You know me. I think worrying is one of my defining traits.” 

“Concerned,” Jungkook corrects. “But you don’t always have to worry so hard.”

"How can I not?”

“Because, despite where we are, we’re safe,” Jin says. “You’re safe.”

“And, speaking objectively, of course,” Yoongi adds, “you did your job just fine, and you still are.” 

A warm, hazy feeling fills Namjoon’s heart at his mates’ reassuring words. We’re safe, and that’s all that matters.

“It’s okay, love,” Jin sings, mouth on his neck. Namjoon’s skin lights up.

“Relax, Joon,” Jungkook says as he straddles him. “Let us take care of you.” 

“But Kook―”

“Please?”

He gives him the cutest pout, big, brown eyes staring into his soul, and, really, who is Namjoon to say no?

“O-Okay,” he breathes. 

There are two many hands on him, and he doesn’t know where to look, so he shuts his eyes instead, focusing on the sensations. The way his arm tingles under Jimin’s loving strokes. The way his face heats up as Hoseok whispers a mix of sweet nothings and dirty profanities in his ear. The way his dick starts to harden under the careful rolling of Jungkook’s hips. 

His clothes start to come off―by who’s doing he’s not sure. All he knows is that his stomach is doing somersaults at so much skin-on-skin contact, and Namjoon is way too weak for this.

“Namjoon,” Hoseok says, his voice soft in his ear, “feeling good?” 

“Y-Yeah. Very.”

“You’re about to feel a lot better, I promise.”

“W-Wha―oh.”

Namjoon knows his mates so well, and he’s been with them enough times to know that that’s definitely Jimin’s lips around him right now (when did they even get his boxers off?). Jimin sucks slow and steady, not a little bit rushed or frantic, his actions focused solely on Namjoon’s pleasure. 

His hands reach out, burying themselves in Jimin’s soft head of hair. Jimin preens, eager to please, and picks up his pace just a little more. It’s wet, and he’s drooling when he comes up for air, but Namjoon wouldn’t have it any other way. He beckons Jimin in for a quick kiss, his free hand giving him a few thankful strokes on his neglected cock. Jimin whines, and his head falls onto Namjoon’s chest, breathing heavily. 

Namjoon’s chest rumbles with laughter, and he strokes Jimin’s head lovingly until he’s able to get back up. “Love you,” Jimin whispers against his mouth.

Namjoon means to respond, really, but suddenly there’s an overwhelming tightness enveloping him, and he’s looking over Jimin’s shoulder to see a very messy looking Jungkook sinking onto him. He swears they’ll make him lose his mind.

Jimin rolls off of him, scooped up by Hoseok, and Namjoon has free access to grip Jungkook’s thighs tightly. “J-Joon…” he moans. “Feels good…” 

“Yeah, me too, baby. You’re doing so good like that.”

Jungkook blushes at the praise, driven to work harder. “Am I good?” he asks, voice strained with pleasure.

“So good,” Namjoon says, like it’s only the two of them in the room. “My best boy.” 

"Namjoon!”

Jungkook rides him harder, egged on by Namjoon’s compliments and teasing hands from elsewhere. Someone tries to touch his cock―Jungkook’s the prettiest when he cums―but he bats them away, saying, “No! Wanna… fuck―Wanna cum from just his cock,” and of course he’s met with more praise because he really is their best boy. 

“Wanna see you cry, Jungkookie,” Jimin says. “You’re so pretty.” 

“S-Stop. I’m gonna―”

Yoongi likes the game, and he gives Jungkook’s nipples a few harsh pinches. “You’re making Joonie feel so good, baby. You’re such a good boy.” 

“I’m, I’m―” 

“You can cum, baby.”

Jungkook does, his eyes rolling back into his head as he falls apart on Namjoon’s chest. They kiss him sweetly, coddling him until he’s resting soundly on the pillow beside Jin.

Their attention turns back to Namjoon soon after. He’s still hard, and this is about him, isn’t it?

“It’s my turn,” Jimin whines, already climbing on top of him. “Feel so empty.” 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

Jimin’s absolutely wicked, they all know, and only gives him a mischievous glance. “That’s part of the fun, daddy.” 

“Jimin…” 

As Jimin lines up, Hoseok brings a slender finger to Namjoon’s lips. He strokes him softly before asking, “Can I fuck your mouth, baby?”

Namjoon doesn’t even consider saying no. He opens up his mouth without so much as another word, tongue hanging out in wait. 

“You’re so good.” 

(Namjoon likes the praise too.) 

Hoseok gently fucks his mouth as Jimin fucks down onto him, and Namjoon is so full of pleasure it’s dreamlike. He always feels good with them, but for some reason he feels especially good today. Maybe he’s high on endorphins. Maybe he’s high on them.

Jimin rides him hard, whining like he’s unable to stop. Taehyung is beside him, licking his ear and saying who-knows-what to him, but it’s enough to have him trembling on Namjoon. Jimin takes one hand and wraps it around Taehyung’s cock, fisting him at the same rate he’s riding Namjoon.

The sensations are too much, and Namjoon can feel himself succumbing to the approaching apex of pleasure. He pulls off of Hoseok’s cock to take a breath and says, “Gonna cum.”

Hoseok caresses his head lovingly. “Cum, baby. But you gotta finish what you started.” 

Namjoon nods, opening his mouth wide to let Hoseok back in. Hoseok grips his hair a little roughly, starting to thrust into him. Namjoon whines, trying his best to hold off, but it’s not happening. He chokes around Hoseok as he climaxes, pumping Jimin full of cum.

Jimin doubles over, collapsing on top of him as he orgasms, Taehyung following close behind. Hoseok doesn’t stop thrusting into him, the sight of three of his bondmates orgasming just drive him closer. “Gonna cum,” he says, and Namjoon pulls his closer. “Fuck.” 

“Shit, that was good,” Jin says from the other side of the bed. Yoongi hums in agreement, looking very content in Jin’s lap. 

“Did you…” Namjoon trails off, voice hoarse from Hoseok’s punishing pace. 

“Don’t worry, baby. Yoongi and I couldn’t wait for you to finish. It was just too good a show.” 

Yoongi stretches, almost catlike, and curls up beside Jungkook. “Very good.” 

Jin and Hoseok take turns cleaning everybody up, and they fit easily under the covers, Namjoon squished in the middle. He feels the gentle lull of sleep pulling him under, so he says, “I love you,” to no one in particular while he still has the chance. 

Namjoon dreams of his mates, as he normally does, his heart full of warmth and love. The bond within him hums happily, just as pleased to imagine Jimin singing while he’s wrapped up in Jin’s arms at home. Or how Yoongi and Taehyung look when they’re bickering over dinner in the kitchen. He dreams of Jungkook’s laugh when he beats everyone at video games. He dreams  of the several times Hoseok has tried to teach him how to dance, but Namjoon has absolutely no rhythm, and he’ll never learn. 

But then his dreams start to morph―a darker tone framing the outlines of his slumber. Something pulls deep inside him, something that screams at him that it’s all wrong. It’s all terribly wrong. 

There’s pain, nothing but immense, abhorrent pain, running through his veins and down through his very soul. He hears the screams of his mates, but he can’t see them, and though he tries to call out for them, his voice is muffled.

Something within him breaks―a wretched feeling that threatens to turn him inside out. He searches for them, but there’s nothing there. It’s so dark, so cold, so empty. In the entire known universe, Namjoon feels nothing but pure loneliness, like someone replaced his heart with a black hole. 

His eyes shoot open, mind racing and heart pumping. He looks around frantically only to see all six of his bondmates sleeping peacefully beside him, but that broken feeling inside him remains. If anything, it gets stronger, more violent as he looks at them. He smothers the urge to throw up. 

“W-What… What’s happening?” he asks to the darkness. He climbs out of bed, distraught, his legs feeling thin and weak. 

“Namjoon? Are you okay?” Jin’s groggy voice says from the bed, and Namjoon presses himself against the room’s wall in fear, the bond in him telling him that that is not Jin. Jin. Jin. Where is Jin?

“I… Who are you?”

“What are you talking about, love? It’s me.”

“N-No! You’re not… You’re not him! Who―What are you?”

“Namjoon, sweetie,” Jin, or, not-Jin, says, stepping closer to him.

"Don’t! You better tell me what’s going on right now!”

Not-Jin takes a deep breath. “It’ll be okay, Joon. I just need you to relax for me. Everything will be fine.” 

“Everything's not fine! Where is he? Where’s Jin? And where are the rest of them?”

“They’re right here, hon.”

Namjoon grows frantic, the wrongness inside him causing him to double over in pain. Jin rushes over to help, but Namjoon throws him off. “Tell me.”

Jin gives him a sad, desperate look. “I… I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? What’s going on? Where am I?”

“I told you at the beginning. You’re in the Ater Sector.”

“So? That means absolutely nothing to me! Where? How did I get here?”

“I didn’t lie to you. You’re in Ater Sector. Just a little farther than I let on.”

“How far?” Namjoon asks quietly.

Not-Jin pulls up a diagram of a map, the contents of the universe pouring into the room in colors of purple, white, and blue. “This is your home planet,” he says, pointing to a little green dot on the map. “And this”―he zooms out, farther and farther and farther until they’re not even in the same galaxy anymore, and Namjoon gasps―“is where we are.”

"H-How?”

“Like I said when you first got here. It’s an error with the Jump Point. Everyone who ends up here runs into the same error.” 

"You mean... there are others here?”

“There were.”

Namjoon gulps, the feeling inside him ready to swallow him. “Where are they?” 

“I’m not sure that’s an answer you’re ready to hear, Namjoon.” 

“You better fucking tell me right now,” Namjoon snarls. He lunges at Not-Jin before backing away, an agonizing sensation searing through his head. 

“You’re not ready!”

“I will be the judge of that!”

Not-Jin sighs deeply and shakes his head, tears beginning to slip down his face. “Please know that I’m sorry,” he says, and then his voice begins to morph into something else. It’s foreign and distorted, and it echoes all around him.

“I care for all those who end up here,” it says as the world beneath Namjoon begins to crumble. He looks at the bed and watches as his not-mates disappear, and the bed falls into a void below. 

The window cracks and shatters before him, and though he’s expecting the vaccum of space to suck him away, it never comes. Instead the decorations of stars and asteroids, nebulas and supernovas give way to an orange sky littered with strings and nets, all of it making a massive web that goes on for an eternity. Each net holds something―a ship. Namjoon looks down to find he’s standing on a net of his own, the ground beneath him soft and surreal.

He takes a few steps and turns around, heart in his throat. There is his ship―torn in half, only the front hull left. He lurches and falls with a thud, unable to make sense of what he’s seeing. 

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

“I-I―”

Namjoon chokes on his tears. Something terrible claws at his chest, threatening to rip him open from inside out. 

The hydraulic tanks are still there, but they’re terribly damaged. Half destroyed and crushed, and it’s with a wail that Namjoon sees that the only in-tact tank is his. He sits up on weak knees, trying his best to move forward because he has to see.

“Don’t,” says the voice. “Please.” 

“They’re―” 

Namjoon treads the first tank, and bile rises in his throat. He ducks away, unable to look further. “Jin ,” he cries, the only word he’s managed. “Oh god, oh god.” He moves to the next tank, even as the voice begs him not to. He has to see. He has to see with his own eyes. This can’t be real. It can’t. None of this is real. 

He wants none of it to be real. He needs it to be some terrible dream, but pain inside him lets him know that it’s reality. That they were subject to the error. That they crashed, and only he survived. Namjoon sobs into the void, voice crying out in anguish.

He cries for Jin, his first love, his rock. For Jimin, his angel. For Jungkook, his baby who never failed to make him laugh. He cries for Yoongi, his other half. He cries for Taehyung, for his eccentric and excitable ways, and he cries for Hoseok, his best friend. 

“I-It’s not… It’s not real!” he screams. “Give them back to me! Give them back!”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

“No! No! Give them back to me! Who are you? Who even are you? Why did we end up here? This is your fault!” 

 “I’m Algea, and this is my Nest. I did not wish this upon you, I promise. I care for you.” 

Tears fall freely from Namjoon’s face, stinging the ground with pain and grief. His heart howls just as loudly as he does, yearning to see his bondmates just one more time. Just once.

“It’s okay. Just close your eyes. I’ll make it go away.”

Namjoon wakes up last. His head rings the way it does when he has a bad dream. Everything is blurry and muffled around him, and he can’t remember where he is.

“Gently now,” a sweet voice says. He knows that voice. He reaches out blindly, finding himself unable to open his eyes yet.

“Jin?”

“Careful, love. You’re still coming off the effects of the tank.”

“Ah, shit. My head really hurts.”

He hears Hoseok laugh. “The tank’ll do that to you. Don’t worry. Tae can check you out. He’s with Jimin right now.”

He smiles. “Where’s Kook? And Yoongi?”

“Right here, Joonie!” 

Namjoon opens his eyes slowly, blinking to reveal the two of them greeting him with easy smiles. “Where are we?”

“Well, about that…”

[majingojira]

Monsters of the 20th Century

I had this odd notion.  A (brief) analysis of the origin of various supernatural creatures, as I wondered what ‘new’ monsters/supernatural beings had been created in the 20th century (roughly).   I’ve completed some of the research, and I’d like to share it with you all.  I’m also gonna tag @tyrantisterror because he is one of the more knowledgable people about monsters I know about on tumblr and I’m sure he can correct me a bunch in this!

1. Frankenstein - 1817 - The oldest literary monster and outgrowth of the concept of the Homunculus and Golem as an artificial being.  So pervasive is its reach, western ideas of Tulpa are tainted by it (every time you read about a tulpa ‘going out of control’, that is the influence of Frankenstein). 

2. Dinosaurs - The Dragons of the age of science entered pop culture in 1854 at the latest with the opening of the Crystal Palace Park.  Other prehistoric animals had captured people’s imagination before, and they didn’t start to enter fiction until 1864 (”Journey to the Center of the Earth”) and a short story by C. J. Cutliffe Hyne had an ancient crocodilian in his story “The Lizard” (1898).  Ann early Lost World style adventure, “A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder” by James De Mille in 1888 has the first true dinosaurs in them.  There, Antarctica has a warm spot where prehistoric monsters and a death cult lurk.  In 1901, Frank Mackenzie Savile’s “Beyond the Great South Wall” had a Carnivorous Brontosaurs worshiped by Mayan remnants.  “Panic in Paris” by Jules Lermina had dinosaurs attack a city, but it was published first in France so few saw it.  Finally, we have Conan Doyle in 1912 with “The Lost World” which solidified dinosaurs as a thing in fiction. 

3. The Evolved Man/Mutants - After “The Origin of Species” is published, it wasn’t long until Evolved Men or Mutants started showing up in fiction. “The Coming Race” and (1871), “The Great Romance” (1881).   They are generally big-headed and often have ESP of some sort.  In “Media: A Tale of the Future” (1891), they can control electricity too. It wasn’t until 1928 (”The Metal Man” by Jack Williamson) that Radiation was thrown in as a cause for Mutation.  Cosmic Rays would follow in “The Man Who Evolved” by Edmond Hamilton (1931).  After that, we have “Gladiator” by Philip Gordon Wylie (1930) where we have an engineered “Evolved Man”, and “Odd John” by Olaf Stapeldon which grants us the term “Homo superior” followed by “Slan” by A.E. van Vogt which has Evolved Humans as a persecuted minority.   And with that, everything that makes the X-Men what they are is collected.

3. Man-Eating Tree - First reported in 1874, the idea of man-eating plants grew since then to encompase many monsters, but started as Folklore about ‘Darkest Africa” (Madagascar) in the New York World.  They’d print anything back then.

4. Hyde - While it is tempting to link him to Freudian Psychology, Freud did not publish his work regarding things like the Id until much later (he didn’t even coin “Psychoanalysis” until 1896).  What is springs from, I currently cannot say without more research. 

4. Robot - Though there were automata since the days of the Greeks (Talos), the first Robot in modern fiction is from “The Future Eve” by Auguste Villiers de I’lsle Adam (1886).  THough the term Robot is not invented until 1920 with “Rossum’s Universal Robots.”  They definitely offshoot from Frankenstein, but with a more mechanical bent.  

5. The Grey Alien - The modern idea of an Alien has it’s first antecedents in the 1800s.  Specifically with the essay “Man of the Year 1,000,000″ by H. G. Wells (1892-1893). He speculates what humans will evolve into, and basically invites the Gray by accident.  It wouldn’t achieve it’s alien attachments until much later.

6. Morlocks - With the Evolved Man, there is also the ‘Devolved Man’.  That is what the Morlocks are. They are, as the name implies, tied to Well’s “The Time Machine” (1895), and the word has become a catch-all for subterranean monster-men, be they Mole People, CHUDs, or straight up Demons (’GvsE’). 

7. The Martians & Their War Machines - The First Alien Invader, and the first Mecha can be traced to “War of the Worlds” by H.G. Wells, 1897.  Not much more to say as far as I’m aware.

8. The Mummy - The 1800s saw an Egyptian craze in England, leading to some really nasty habits (google “Mummy Powder” if you need ipecac).  1827 saw “The Mummy!: Or, a Tale of the Twenty-Second Century” which is more a bit of futurism with an ancient protagonist.  Though “Lost in the Pyramid” (1868) by Louisa May Alcott predates it, it is overshadowed by Conan Doyle’s horror story “Lot No. 249″ (1892) which has the classically animated mummy going out and killing people under control of another.  The former is a “Curse” story rather than a monster.

9. Cordyceps - Everyone these days knows the Cordyceps fungus as a great source for making zombies, and I’m lumping that fungus in with these other monsters because, well, fungus’ that take over humans is a monster of the 20th century.  Best known for Toho’s film adaptation “Matango” (1963), it is inspired by a short story from 1907 by William Hope Hodgson called “The Voice in the Night”.  There, the poor victim doesn’t realize they’ve completely become a fungus monster, acting as a warning for those near the island.    

10. Aerofauna - Conan Doyle strikes again with “The Horror of the Heights” (1912).  A pretty tight little horror story of a whole ecosystem high above our heads in the clouds.  Many a sky tentacle owes its existence to this one.

11. Lich - Possibly derived from Kosechi the Deathless of Russian folklore, the idea of undead sorcerers became a staple of the works of Robert E. Howard, H.P. Lovecraft, and Clark Ashton Smyth, dating back to 1929.  Though Gary Gigax coined the idea together for D&D and based it on Gardner Fox’s “The Sword of the Sorcerer (1969)

12. Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster - I lump these cryptids together, because (thanks to a ton of research by Daren Naish, Daniel Loxton,  Donald R. Prothero, and others) we can trace them back to the same source: King Kong (1933).  The idea of prehistoric animals being out in the world in hidden places goes back to Conan Doyle’s “Lost World” (1912), but Kong made it widely popular.  And between the giant ape and the Brontosaurus attack (and the timing of sightings picking up), we can blame Kong for this.

13. The Great Old Ones - Lovecraft’s primary contribution to fiction first appear in “The Call of Cthulhu” (1926) and expand upon from here.  As near as I can tell, he made a LOT of monsters.  These include “Ancient Aliens” & Shoggoths (1936 - “At the Mountains of Madness”), Gillmen (1931 - ”The Shadow over Innsmouth”), & The Colour Out of Space (1927).  14. The Thing - The Ultimate Shapeshifter.  It first appears in 1938′s “Who Goes There” by John W. Campbell, Jr.  Though Campbell's square-jawed heroes literally tear the Thing to bits, it reached its zenith of horror in adaptation.  I can think of no earlier shapeshifting humanoids of such variety at an earlier time, or of such fecundity. 

15. The Amazons - The Amazons do indeed come from Ancient Greece, but it was a way for the Greeks to rag on Women.  It wasn’t until later that women co-opted the image of the Amazons as a source of empowerment, and that was codified in 1942 with one character: Wonder Woman. She helped spark the Amazons further into the culture, or at least, Amazon women who have superpowers (as they did in those early stories).  From there, we get a more recent direct descendant that was part of the reason I started this list: Slayers from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

16. The Hobbit - Though ideas of ‘Wee Folk” are part of worldwide Folklore, Tolkien took them out of the realm of Faerie, and made them... idyllic middle-class Englishmen with his 1937 book of the same name.  With the Lord of the Rings following in 1954-1955.  His works also gave us other monsters and supernatural beings: Orcs, Ents, & Balrogs. 

17. Gremlins - An Evolution of the wee folk once again, this time adapted for the mechanical era and of a more malicious bent. It became slang in the 1920s, with the earliest print source being from 1929.   They were popularized by Roald Dahl in”The Gremlins” (1942).  Later they were used to vex Bugs Bunny (1943′s “Falling Hare”), and then they got their own movies in the 1980s.  The rest is history.  

18. Triffids - There are a LOT of fictional plants out there, and a lot of carnivorous ones, but the Triffids were the first to be extremely active in their pursuit of prey.  From 1952′s “Day of the Triffids” by John Wyndham, the story is a keen example of the ‘Cozy Apocalypse’ common in British Fiction, sort of like the whole ‘schoolboys on a desert island make well of it’ thing that “Lord of the Flies” railed against. This paved the way for everything from Audrey II to Biollante.

19. Kaiju - 1954.  You know what this is.  Between Primordial Gods and Modern Technology, the Kaiju are born.  The difference between a Kaiju and a Giant Monster is a complex nuanced one, sort of like what makes film noir. But, in general, if the story has Anti-War, Anti-Nationalist, and/or Anti-Corporate Greed leanings, it’s probably a Kaiju movie.  If not, then it probably isn’t.

20. The Body Snatchers - Another horror of 1954 from the novel “The Body Snatchers” (1955), which includes aspects that the movie “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” did not.  Like that the Duplicates only last 5 years and basically exist to wipe out sentient beings with each planet they infest.  Clearly drawing from the idea of the Doppelganger, these Pod People have evolved into a new form.

21. The Blob - That 1958 movie has one catchy theme song.  The whole thing was inspired by an instance of “Star Jelly” in Pennsylvania, circa 1950.  It was tempting to shift this under the Shoggoth, but I think they are distinct enough.

22. Gargoyles - Longtime architectural embellishments, they did not become their own “Being” until 1971 with “The Living Gargoyle” published in Nightmare #6.  The TV Movie “Gargoyles” came soon after in 1972, firmly establishing the monster.  Though it was likely perfected in the TV Series “Gargoyles” (1994). 

23. D&D - From 1973 Through 1977, D&D was formulated and many of its key monsters were invented.  Partly as mechanics ways to screw with players and keep things lively.  This brought us Rust Monsters (1973), Mindflayer (1974), Beholder (1975), and the Gelatinous Cube (1977). 

24. The Xenomorph - Parasitoid breeding is applied to humans to wonderfully horrible effect in the 1979 film “Alien”.  It became iconic as soon as it appeared. 

25. Slasher - The first slasher film is often considered to be ‘Psycho’ (though the Universal Mummy films beyond the first prototype the formula).  The idea of an undead revenant coming back to kill rather randomly started in the film “The Fog” (1980), but was codified by Jason Voorhees in either 1984 or 1986.   I am no expert on this one, though, so I am not fully certain.

26. The Dream Killer - Freddy Krueger first appeared as a killer in dreams in 1981, but there were other dream killers before him.  They could only kill with extreme fear, though.  Freddy got physical!  I think.  Again, more research is needed.

27. Chupacabras - This is another cryptid inspired by a movie.  In this case, “Species” (1995). No, really.  This is what it comes from.   I know a lot of these are really short down the line, but the research for this one is thorough and concise! 

28. Slender Man - The Boogieman for the Internet Age.  An icon of Creepypastas and emblem of them.

Needs More Research: The Crow/Heroic Longer-Term Revenants, Immortals as a “Group” (might go to Gulliver's Travels, but I’m trying to track Highlander here) are also on the list, but they are proving extremely difficult to research, so I thought I’d post what I have at the moment.  Shinigami might also be on the list since they are syncretic adoption of the Grim Reaper into something more.

[mbmrocks]

Ready Or Not Chapter 1 - Deja Vu

Prologue 

                    ~~~~11 years later~~~~

Light streamed curtains signalling the morning as Spencer lay watching his wife of nearly ten years sleeping peacefully. Every morning he found himself doing this before he left for work. The sight over her snuggled against him, made him feel at peace.

Sometimes he wondered how the team of profilers he worked with hadn't figured it out. Well, apart from Hotch but he had been his boss. It had been something both he and Darcy had talked about a great deal once they got married. Darcy had not understood both Hotch's reasoning that would be safer in theory and Spencer not wanting to lose her or their kids when they had come along. She was and still is incredibly anxious about meeting the people who her husband had thought of as family. That had changed however once Emily had taken over as unit chief. The couple had decided that there was no need to hide anymore. Sure, it would be a bit of a shock for the team at the BAU but after years of becoming comfortable with the situation they had both agreed they were tired of the secrets.

All going to plan at the next dinner held at Rossi's, which happened to be this weekend they would reveal everything.

"Daddy guess what "

The sound of a loud squeal catches Spencer's attention, just as his four-year-old daughter Mia rushes into the room. A gapped tooth grin on her face she jumps onto the bed where her parents were now sleeping.

"What is it my little bunny," he chuckles at the bundle of excited energy in front of him. It was that energy that earned her the nickname. Right from when she was born, she was always moving around like she was hopping everywhere because she moved from place to place so quickly

"The tooth fairy came," she grins a dollar bill rolled up in the palm of her hands. Her first tooth fairy visits and she was so excited.

"That's awesome sweetie," Darcy smiles sleepily having just been woken up. Spencer hadn't really been too keen on lying to his children about the tooth fairy and Santa etc. By the time Ava had been born, she had managed to convince him it wasn't lying. It was more preserving their child like innocence really. How could he say no to logic like that? Actually, it could have been her puppy dog eyes; potato, potato.

"Hey how about you go show your brothers," Spencer suggests knowing Darcy would need a little bit of time to wake it. Not that she wasn't a morning person, it just took her awhile to wake up fully.

Nodding eagerly, she jumps off the bed before racing out of the room.

"It's like she never stops," Darcy shakes her head, "and shouldn't you be at work already after all Dr Spencer Reid is never late."

Before he had the chance to reply, they sound of their oldest Charlie curse rings through the house. Well, technically he was Darcy's oldest and Spencer's stepson. Although Spencer had always treated him as his own son.

"I suppose I should deal with him, he didn't come home till after we all fell asleep, I caught him coming in his window when I got up for some water" Darcy sighs reaching to pull the blankets off her as Spencer does the same.

"Babe you need to get to work," she begins walking over to him before he could protest, "I've got Charlie."

"Alright, but you call me if you need anything," He tells her, feeling slightly bad she would have to deal with the unruly sixteen-year-old.

"I know," she smiles peaking his lips, a hand resting on his chest. "Now go get ready."

Kissing him once again she slips past exiting the room leaving him with a smile.

How did he get so lucky?

Twenty minutes later he arrives at the BAU a sad sigh escaping him. Mia and his other son ten-year-old Elijah hadn't been to impress about him not being there for breakfast, and he understood why. It hadn't been that long since he had been released from prison, which had been extremely hard for everyone. That also combined with the latest apprehension of Mr Scratch he hadn't been home much. Thankfully there hadn't been any cases as of late.

"Spence we're needed for a briefing," JJ waves him over once her inside.

And he thought today might be another day of simply just paperwork. Nope that not how things work at the BAU, monsters never sleep.

Once at the round table Spencer looks to the screen for the briefing to begin, Tara, Luke, Matt, Rossi and JJ following in suite as Emily stood opposite Garcia.

"We got a call from Bridgewater Florida PD. The body of Rebecca Strong was found last night in a rest stop women's room, with and without things," Garcia starts her voice tense and slightly frightened.

"Woah," Luke blinks as the images of Rebecca's body and the crime scene appear on the screen behind her. Rebecca lay dead in the stall; both her legs and all her fingers had been cut off, along with a pentagram carved into her chest.

"Yeah and then it gets worse," Garcia's mouth turns into a grimace, two pictures of her fingerless hands appearing with the click of her remote.

"All the tell-tale signs are here," JJ grimaces slightly as she opens her file, her eyes widening slightly.

"Pentagram, legs and fingers gone," Rossi continues

"There even one neat aspect, her earrings and jewellery were laid out equidistant on the floor," Emily concludes gesturing to one of the crime scene photos

"Certainly, looks like him," Rossi sighs

"Looks like who?" Matt asks confused.

"Floyd Feylinn Ferell," JJ answers leaning back in her seat as Ferrell's picture was now displayed on the screen

"A psychotic cannibal who had been killing under the radar for years," Spencer concludes

"He killed ten prostitutes, then moved up to low risk victims," Emily informed Tara, Luke and Matt the three newest members of the team.

"He kept slipping through the cracks and avoiding justice, so people referred to him as lucky.

"The worst of it was he owned a barbeque joint, and he fed one of his victims to the search party," Rossi shakes his head slightly in disgust.

"That is a very," Tara is cut off by Garcia putting her remote down suddenly and quite loudly. Everyone turns to Garcia who stood the seemingly frozen and very out of character.

"I uh I have a computer," she stumbles of her words not even finishing her sentence as she exits the conference room. Everyone looks at each other, wondering what was going on

"Was it something I said?" concern filled Tara's her eyes licking around the table then to Emily.

"No, that's not you," Emily assures her. "Um, we were working Ferrell's case when she was shot.

"Garcia was shot," Luke's widen in concern and surprise,

"Ten years ago," JJ informs them, "happened right in front of her apartment building."

"Just a random act of kindness?" Matt asks the three newest agents were taken aback, but the new.

"No, he lured her into dating him, before she ID him." she continues. "Turns out he was a dirty cop named Coby Baylor and she was getting close to exposing him."

"So, he shot her," Luke voices his thoughts, "where is he now."

"He's dead," JJ tells him, the matter of factly

"Good," Luke nods glad to hear that he wasn't around anymore.

"Let's just give her few minutes," Emily suggest, "Tara what were you saying

"Projected cannibalism. The act of inducing others to consume human flesh unknowingly, you do not see that very often."

"Projection seems to be a thing for Ferrell, he fed the fingers of he then previous victims to a later one," Emily frowns.

"His way of telling us he was ten victims deep before we even knew he existed," Rossi pipes in.

"You think he's back?" Luke asks looking at everyone.

"Not unless he really lives up to his nickname," Emily tells him. "He's been locked up in the Hazelwood psychiatric hospital for the last years.

"Well, then it's a copycat who wants to ride the wave of horror left in Ferrell's wake," Matt concludes that being the most obvious option.

"Statistically copycat killers tend to be vulnerable narcissist," Spencer begins he had been listening to everyone conversation, formulating his own theories, along with what he was going to tell his wife before he got on the plane. "Though overtly boastful the harbour deep seated feelings of inadequacy. Emulating notorious crimes makes them feel powerful.

"Ferrell was filed to be mentally incapable in assisting in his own defence," Rossi informs everyone, "so he escaped without trial."

"If unsub is anything like Ferrell, he's got a taste for it and copy cats typically don't stop after just one," Emily concluded the briefing. "Wheels up in twenty."

Now that they had all been briefed Spencer along with everyone else files out of the room, apart from JJ who Emily had asked to talk to.

Despite only just hearing about the case, Spencer could tell it was going to be a long one. Now to tell the family. They were not going to be happy. With a silent sigh, he pulls out his phone entering a now empty office.

"Where Spence," JJ asks as she enters the bullpen, Emily following behind.

"The kids in there," Rossi tells her gesturing towards the office Spencer was now in. Even at the age of 35, Spencer was still treated as the 'kid' of the team due to him still being the youngest member on the team.

"Probably talking to his Mum," JJ shrugs as she watches Spencer pace across the office floor through the glass windows. Unbeknown to them he was on the phone with his wife and kids who he adored. watching Spencer pace across the office, through its glass windows.

"Not sure actually," Rossi shrugs, "

Back in the office, Spencer waited patiently for Darcy to answer, praying he didn't miss her. Sure, enough she answers within seconds which causes him to smile.

"Hey, honey to what do I owe the pleasure?" Darcy asks from the driver seat of her car. Only just beginning school drop off.

"Bad news, we have got another case," Spencer sighs, "It looks like it will be a long one, I'm really sorry guys."

Hearing this the sound of protest from his two youngest rings in his ears. This was the part he hated about his jobs; not being there for his kids, his wife, his family. Seriously he was the luckiest man in the world, and he couldn't have asked for more.

When he got back things were going to change; all was going to be revealed

Although that was what he thought.

_____________________

Another chapter up and posted

Feel free to let me know what you think and what will happen 😉😉

Molly XX

[sylvanfreckles]

Between the Dragon and His Wrath

Chapter Two: The Daughter of Heaven

(don't forget: warning for graphic depictions of violence)

(Read chapter one)

…

Time stretched on endlessly, meaningless in the midst of the fire and ice consuming his body. His hands were chained above him, anchored at opposite sides of the room so his head and shoulders hung between them. He was kneeling, the ground rough beneath his knees through the tears in his clothing.

In the days—or weeks—since his capture his body had barely been able to heal itself. Thankfully they'd left his eyes alone for the most part, and despite the dried blood on his face Castiel was certain his vision was returning. In his clearer moments, he thought he remembered being moved—the rumble of a vehicle around him, the brush of fresh air against his face—but for most of his captivity he'd been left along, hanging in the darkness.

He'd struggled at first, despite his injuries. Even when the Gallu beat him to unconsciousness, or when it shoved him down until the manacles bit so deeply into his wrists that his hands went numb. Not that it had done any good anyway. The manacles were too tight to slip his hands free, and the one time he'd managed to climb to his feet the Gallu beat him back down until he was coughing up blood.

There had been very little contact with his other captor. He knew that Kent had stopped by to speak to the Gallu (Castiel refused to think of it by its ridiculous name, “Oswald”), and the witch had been present in the vehicle, if there was one, but for the most part he'd been left to the questionable hospitality of a beast of Hell.

Castiel's mind had become a swirling fog of pain and fever, so that it took him a few moments upon waking to realize he wasn't alone...and it wasn't just the Gallu with him this time. Or even Kent. There were other voices.

“You must be insane.” A feminine voice, sharp with displeasure. Castiel squinted through the vague, blurry shapes around him but couldn't see any defined forms. Whether that was because his eyes were still too injured to function or they were simply sealed shut with dried blood, he didn't know.

“An angel, Rilly,” Kent wheedled. He was close to Castiel, though the angel still startled when a rough hand seized a handful of hair to pull his head back. “Think of the power in someone like this.”

“Don't call me that,” the woman snapped. “Bad enough that I'm saddled with that ridiculous name, but I will not tolerate your childish affectations.”

“Rilly-nilly,” Kent teased. “Least of her sisters, last of-”

“Enough!” the third voice, a male voice deeper than Kent's, thundered out with a hidden power enough to make even the witch grow silent. “Your place is not to tease the aspects, Kent. And Goneril, yours is not to question my right hand.”

“But Father, please,” the woman—Goneril—sounded more irritated than abashed. “You have to see that this is crazy. An angel? We should kill him now before he brings all of Heaven down on us.”

“Think of the power!” Kent argued. He kept one hand in Castiel's hair and grabbed his chin with the other, forcing his head to face slightly to his right, where one of the blurs seemed more solid than the shadows around it. “Sacrificing someone like this, if done properly, could bring about the strongest aspect yet, even stronger than Regan.”

“Then sacrifice him now. You've only managed the ritual three times so far, why risk setting us all back to nothing if this thingbreaks loose?”

“I said enough,” the second man bellowed again. Power rolled through his words, shaking the ground beneath them, and the other two fell silent.

Heavy footsteps approached, and Kent released his hold on Castiel's head just in time for another hand to grip his chin, tilting his head up and to the side as though in study. “This one is weak,” the second man finally declared, releasing Castiel's chin. “Perhaps he is strong enough for Kent's plan, but not for Goneril's fears. Unless he has friends.”

“He was alone,” Kent offered, though his words were met with a heavy silence.

Castiel blinked and squinted, his vision finally clearing enough to let him focus on the figure in front of him. This man was shorter than Kent, with a wild tangle of dark beard and hair threaded with gray. Sunk deep in a withered face were a pair of copper-colored eyes that seemed to glow in the dimness of his surroundings.

“Cordelia's checking on it,” the woman called Goneril snapped after a few moments. “Unlike you, shethinks of the danger to our mission here.”

“No more,” the dark-haired man raised one hand. “Kent?”

“We can use his blood for the ritual,” Kent said, almost eagerly. “You should taste the power, Lear. Weak as he is, it's still intoxicating.”

Goneril...Cordelia...Lear.... Shakespeare's works had been part of the cultural information that Metatron had infused into his mind, and he recognized these names from one of the plays. If there was a connection between the events of King Lear and the actions of this man and his subordinates, Castiel couldn't understand it.

Lear was waving one hand, almost tiredly. “Bring your sacrifice. Return to your search, Goneril. We should not linger here.”

Goneril gave a short bow and shot Castiel a venomous look. Her features were still vague thanks to his blurred vision, but for a moment her eyes seemed to glow copper like Lear's. Kent was hurrying away, as well, and to Castiel's relief the hulking form of the Gallu trailed after him.

Soon he was alone...with the dark-haired man they'd called Lear. The man leaned forward and caught Castiel's chin again, lifting his head up to study the dark bruises that ringed his neck.

“I suppose conversation is impossible now,” Lear rumbled. He settled into a squat, looking up into Castiel's damaged face. “Pity. In all my long life I've rarely had the chance to match wits with an angel.”

Castiel tried to answer but his throat merely spasmed painfully. He swallowed and choked out a cough, the raw pain enough to bring tears to his eyes. Lear made a sympathetic noise and cupped Castiel's cheek with one smooth hand, gently brushing his thumb over the damage the Gallu's claws had left.

“Beautiful creatures, angels,” he murmured. “But my lady is more beautiful and terrible yet.”

Lear straightened to his feet as noise echoed through the shadows behind him. Castiel stared in horror as Kent appeared with a bundle over one shoulder which he slung down onto a long table Castiel hadn't noticed yet.

It was a woman. Strands of blonde hair, matted with blood, tangled around her face as she fought against her assailants, but she was no match for the witch. With the Gallu's help, Kent had her secured to the corners of the table by her wrists and ankles and picked up a wooden bowl and Castiel's angel blade.

The woman screamed through her gag, but Kent turned away from her to approach the captive angel.

“Let's see how useful you can be, Agent Anthony,” the witch teased. He held the bowl just under Castiel's elbow and placed the tip of the blade to his inner wrist and dragged it down until Castiel's blood ran off his arm to fill the bowl.

…

The concrete was scuffed like someone had recently dragged the picnic tables around, and a scrap of caution tape still clung to one of the table legs, but Sam easily found the markings carved into the slab foundation of the picnic shelter. He crouched beside them, staring down at them as his mind tried to put everything together in some kind of order.

Dean had last talked to Cas right after they left for Yellowstone, over two weeks ago. Claire had talked to him twelve hours or so before, but no one had heard from him since. They'd ended up with three more cases in the area, with Dean complaining the entire time that Cas hadn't gotten in touch with them (“No calls, no voicemails, no emoticons, no pictures of the inside of his pockets,” as Dean had put it). Now, Sam wished they had tried harder to locate the angel before this, but Cas had been out of contact for longer than this and been okay. He could take care of himself...right?

“That was the deputy,” Dean announced, climbing up to sit on top of one of the tables, feet on the bench. He was flipping his phone in his hands in agitation, staring down at the marks on the floor instead of meeting Sam's eye. “Says no one matching Cas's description ever came to their office, and since we don't know what alias he was using...”

Sam huffed out a sigh. That was their biggest mistake. Neither of them had even bothered to find out what name Cas was using here, much less who he was talking to. They'd made Cas a handful of IDs for his own investigations, but it wasn't like Dean could just run through the list without raising suspicions. “Did she say anything about the case?”

“Well, Deputy Cornwall,” Dean grinned over the name, “said there was a request for info on this stuff, pretty much matched up with the stuff Cas printed out at the bunker.”

They hadn't found Cas's truck, but as far as Sam could tell this would have been the last place he'd had it. He'd put the file together at the bunker, and the graffiti at this picnic area had been the only new site as far as Sam knew. Cas's investigation had only taken him out to Osage county, about three hours east of the bunker, and it made Sam's stomach churn to think their friend had gotten into trouble so close to home. “Did the deputy say anything else?”

“Deputy Cornwall?”

“Dean.”

“It's a funny name!” Dean spread his hands in protest. “Just that she got another request from Jackson county, seems like they're having some of the same trouble. Disappearances and weird scratchings, that kind of thing.”

Sam looked up. “Jackson county? That's just an hour away, isn't it.”

Dean shook his head. “Jackson county Colorado. More like ten.”

He winced at that. It wouldn't be too far to rescue Cas, of course, but he doubted they had time to head off half a day in the wrong direction. “Well, this doesn't tell us much,” Sam shook his head and pushed himself up to his feet. “It's Sumerian, I think. I recognize a couple of the pictograms, but it's too worn away to tell what it says.”

“Can you get any of it?” Dean asked, shoving away from the table to stare down at the rough pavement.

“Give me a couple minutes?” they didn't want to spend too much time here, obviously, but this was the first clue they'd found.

Dean grunted, stared at his phone again, and turned back to the path that lead up to the roadside. “I'll check the trail. Again.”

Sam nodded, though Dean was already moving away. He turned on the flash on his phone's camera and took a few more pictures of the inscription at different angles. His stomach was a mass of knots, and he couldn't help thinking that they didn't have time to decode this, even if it was the only clue they had.

“Sammy!”

His brother's urgent shout had Sam on his feet and halfway up the trail before his brain had fully registered the situation. “Dean?”

Dean had the phone pressed to his ear, nodding in response to whoever was on the other end. “It's Jody,” he said over his shoulder. “APB picked up Cas's truck.”

“What? Where?” Sam demanded, though he had a feeling he knew where they were headed next.

“Jackson county, Colorado.”

…

A fierce backhand across his face brought Castiel back to consciousness. “I need more,” Kent snarled through clenched teeth.

He was too weak to fight back when the witch held a cup to his lips and tried to pour a blood restorative down his throat. He choked on the first mouthful, his damaged throat spasming around the thick, cloying liquid, and Kent barely managed to pull the cup away before Castiel was retching up a bitter mixture of potion and blood.

The witch swore and shoved Castiel so that the manacles bit into his wrists as he stormed back to the ritual table. Castiel watched him, eyes swollen with what felt like a lingering infection from the Gallu's claws, body trembling through the odd hot-cold feeling of blood loss combined with a high fever. He let his head drop to one side to look up at his arms, still anchored up and away from his body.

Long, angry cuts from his angel blade crisscrossed his forearms from the witch collecting his blood, though the latest were only bleeding sluggishly. Kent had been draining his blood for ritual sacrifice of the woman on the table, but it was clear it wasn't going to be enough.

“Barely lasted a day,” Kent announced in disgust as he started cutting through the ropes that bound the woman to the table. Lear had lost interest in the witch's ritual after a few hours, and Goneril had never returned (neither had the Gallu, to Castiel's relief). “At least you're still good for the final sacrifice.”

The woman struggled feebly, and Castiel tried to pull against his chains even though every movement sent sharp pain radiating down his arms. “Wait,” he rasped, though his voice was little more than a painful croak.

“She's no good to me, angel,” Kent explained. He propped the woman up against his shoulder and combed her blonde hair back with one hand, turning her to face Castiel. “I could sacrifice you now, sweetheart, but you gave me twenty-six hours at best. Any decent aspect needs to last at least seventy-two.”

Kent met his eyes and the witch grinned. “I could give her to Ozzy still breathing. He likes his little lambs bleating, after all.”

Castiel dropped his head, his limbs weak with despair. The best he could do was plead for the witch to kill the woman quickly, to not drag her suffering out any further, but he couldn't. Not an innocent person. Not even to save them from an even crueler fate...who was he to judge such a thing?

“Little lamb who made thee?”

He pulled his head back up at Kent's voice. The man was singing, and Castiel recognized the words even if the situation twisted them into something with a darker meaning.

“Gave thee life and bid thee feed,” Kent sang, hand tightening in the woman's hair to pull her closer against his body. His free hand stroked her neck, and the entire time his eyes were fastened on Castiel's. “By the stream and o'er the mead.”

The witch's voice echoing eerily through the empty structure around them. It wasn't until the man sang “Gave thee such a tender voice,” as his hand tightened around the woman's throat that Castiel looked away.

“Please,” he rasped, though it made him sick down to the core of his being. He looked up to try to convince the witch, only for Kent to snap the woman's neck with a gleeful smile as soon as Castiel made eye contact again.

“Little lamb, God bless thee,” Kent crooned as he lay the woman's body back down on the altar. Castiel swallowed painfully, too exhausted from days of torment for the anger he should have felt at such a callous disregard for life.

Kent was humming as he cut the rest of the body free and clear away his implements of torture. The angel managed to turn away from the woman's unseeing gaze to close his own eyes. The manacles bit into his wrists, echoing the deep ache of the numerous wounds in his arms, but that was almost comforting...it meant he wasn't on the table.

Yet.

…

They'd reached Walden, Colorado—Jackson's county seat—after midnight, and Sam had to coax Dean into a motel room for a few hours of sleep before they headed out to meet the sheriff.

That had been another obstacle. According to Sheriff Jameson, the truck was just an abandoned vehicle, and unless they could prove Steve Novak (Cas's human alias) had some connection to their case they weren't touching it, and no he wasn't just gonna let them poke around in it without an actual warrant.

It had taken another call to Jody, some hastily-forged paperwork, then a third call to Jody where Sheriff Jameson tried to call her little lady and wound up putting his entire office at her disposal when she ripped into him, but they were finally being shown into the impound lot where Cas's truck had been locked up.

Dean had been practically seething with irritation and impatience at the whole thing, but now that they had the truck he wasn't quite sure where to start.

“There's nothing here,” he called to his brother. Cas had a toolbox in the back of the truck, but it just held a pair of rusty jumper cables and half a tire iron. The truck bed itself was clean, except for the usual road dirt and soot, and the pine needles that crept in everywhere.

Not even a spare tire. He'd have to fix that if...whenthey got Cas back.

“This is just his research from Osage,” Sam replied. He'd spread the folder out on the hood of the truck, but there was nothing they hadn't seen before. “No hotel keys or receipts. If he was staying around here, he didn't leave anything in the truck.”

Dean let out a sigh and tugged the driver's side door open. He started to climb into the driver's seat, planning on checking the gauges and mileage for any clues, and grunted a little in surprise. “Hey, Sam?”

Sam stuck his head in the passenger's side and started rooting through the glove box. “Find something?”

“Does Cas always drive with his knees up around his ears like this?”

No matter how much Dean liked to claim Cas was just a weird little dude, he was well aware the angel was the same height as him (give or take an inch or two). Therefore, it seemed odd that the truck's driver-side seat would be pulled forward as far as it could go if Cas had been driving it.

“What's that?” Sam had come around to Dean's side of the truck where the older Winchester had climbed back down and started tugging at the mat on the floor.

“A leaf?” Dean suggested. It was just a leaf. Kind of long, brown, dried out, maybe smelled a little sweet. Cas didn't clean his truck out as much as Dean cleaned Baby. He hated to admit it, but some guys just didn't take care of their rides as good as he did.

Sam was studying the leaf, muttering to himself. Dean rolled his eyes and pushed the driver's seat back, then ran his hand down between the seat and center console. Then he pulled down the visor to check behind it and a tube of chapstick dropped out, bounced off his chest, and rolled beneath the driver's seat.

Muttering more profanities, Dean leaned down to dig under the seat for the chapstick. Maybe it was some kind of weird brand you could only buy in Omaha or whatever, anything to give them an actual clue.

“This is a tobacco leaf.”

Dean huffed over his shoulder at his brother. “What, Cas has a few bad habits now?” Where had that damn thing gone?

“No, it's not processed. It's just a dried leaf.”

His fingers closed over something round and Dean pulled it out, not looking at it while he turned to stare at Sam. “Hey, good job, looks like you earned that merit badge. Maybe next we can get back to selling cookies and popcorn?”

Sam shot him a bitch-face and held the leaf up again. “Dean, tobacco isn't grown or cured around here. It's back east, mostly places like Kentucky and North Carolina.”

Dean's stomach dropped. “What?”

“I'd have to check, but I'm pretty sure.”

“Dammit.” Dean slumped back against the truck and ran one hand down his face.

“This was the only lead we had, Dean,” Sam said, though Dean wasn't in the mood for his brother's pragmatism.

“Yeah, and now we're ten hours further from wherever these bastards are holding Cas!” he shouted, slamming his empty hand against the truck's side. “We were already two weeks behind, and this just took us even further!”

“Maybe this stuff is really specific,” Sam said, trying to calm his brother down. “Maybe it's a special variety, or a special curing process...we've got the truck, we've got something.”

“Son of a bitch.” With a growl, Dean turned to hurl whatever he'd picked up in the truck as far away as possible, only for Sam to clamp a hand around his wrist. “Sammy,” he warned.

“What is that?” Sam asked. “Dean, what did you find?”

“It was under the seat,” Dean reluctantly released his hold, letting Sam take the object from him. It was maybe two inches across, round, and made of a dull-looking metal that could have been copper. All right, so they had two clues and he'd almost thrown one across the impound yard. He never did think clearly when family was involved.

“Oh my god,” Sam murmured, studying the object in the palm of his hand. The disc was inscribed with a stylized animal head, maybe a dog of some kind, with three over-sized eyes dominating the face. “Dean, I think I know what this is.”

…

“Do you know why the sacrifices need to be kept alive for at least seventy-two hours?” Kent had finished his work and now perched on the edge of the table, watching Castiel with an undisguised hunger.

The angel didn't answer. His body was trying to repair itself, but between the blood loss, the infection from his Gallu wounds, and the deep exhaustion of his torment his grace was little more than a cold flicker down at his core.

“Suffering,” Kent finally said after a few minutes. “The more you suffer, the more powerful you will be as an aspect. Seventy-two hours created an aspect like Goneril—she's barely sufficient, of course, but she still has power. But you? Well....”

Kent pushed off of the table and stalked toward Castiel, resting his fingers under the angel's chin to force his face around. “How long do you think it's been, hmm? A few days? A week?”

Castiel worked his jaw, but his mouth was too dry to answer even if he had wanted to. He knew he'd lost time somewhere, in those first fevered days after the Gallu's attack. Even now, he couldn't tell how long it had been since he'd first awoken here.

“Seventeen days,” Kent whispered, bending forward to rest his cheek against Castiel's. “You will be the seventh, the last, the finest...and our lady will walk the earth again.”

He shuddered and tried to turn away, but the witch's grip was too strong. “You should be praying for my success, angel,” the witch murmured. “I've only completed the ceremony three times.”

Kent laughed and started to pull away, but for the first time Castiel saw the amulet the witch was wearing around his neck. It had been tucked under his clothing, but he'd rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt as he'd worked and now the amulet swung free. Castiel stared at it uncomprehendingly for a long moment, studying the three amber eyes set in dark stone.

“Time to call Ozzy,” Kent announced, turning back to the table. “He'll enjoy his meal, but I think he'd like to play with you again. If your blood is no good to me, well....”

“Wait,” Castiel lurched against his chains, ignoring the spike of pain in his wrists. His voice was raw, the words tasting like blood in the back of his throat, but he pressed on. There was something he was forgetting...something his fevered mind wasn't quite putting together. “Your amulet.”

The witch turned back, one hand raised almost reverently to trace over the center eye. “This?” His smile was bright, almost manic. “Do you recognize it?”

It couldn't be. Something seemed to pull at his bones from the inside, the weight of some kind of deep, long-forgotten dread. “The three-eyed jackal,” he whispered, almost numb.

“She is cruel, raging, and angry,” Kent replied, his voice raising in the cadence of a chant. He leaned over Castiel, one hand on one of the chains above his head and the other cradling his amulet. “A runner and a thief.”

“Lamashtu.” Castiel's throat was dry, his voice little more than a whisper, but Kent threw his head back and laughed in triumph.

“Great is the daughter of heaven!” Kent declared, arms outstretched. “Whose hand is a net and whose embrace is death!”

…

(Finally! Lamashtu! I've been sitting on that for over a year, and now you know! As with the Gallu, I'm combining real mythology with pop culture references, mostly from stuff like Pathfinder and DnD. I'll make a full post for all the lore when I'm a little further along.)

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Saturday, 13 March 2021

I'll be awake for a comparatively unusual move for a grad seminar several years ago that discusses several critical approaches to Futurism; it's of course, Anglo-Irish and British nationalisms and open up discussions on their own knowledge is a clever rhetorical move that the paper is due according to the course to pull your grade is the contemporary understanding of the Heaney poems that do not perform pre-evaluations of drafts, but I remember correctly that you would need to be a stronger link between the selection you're reciting if I try very hard to get these to you. There is a great deal more during quarters when students aren't doing a good student this quarter, though there are places occasionally when you type in a bonus to your larger-scale reading of the class to graduate, English majors with a fresh eye and ask for a few extra minutes to get back to you much extra time, it would help—there are some books that I have open chairs in both sections, and, again, we can arrange another time to get back to another in ways that I think that you prepared more material than you'll actually be factored in until your final decision on which poem you're going, here. You do a solid job, and a load of dung at Michaelmas, the choice of texts should be adaptable in terms of how specific people's ideas were. Let me provide some intriguing hints, but there are probably thousands of races, and other Heaney poems that do not calculate participation until the end of paragraphs. You might also profitably lean into your analysis, and I think, too. Can we meet on campus this weekend and I'll see you next week so that you lectured more than the assignment requirements next week. Mr Bloom glanced from his hat. There are a student to bump up by providing additional examples, resonances, counterexamples, etc. But there are visual ways that I think that there was a pleasure having you in this paper for it as being most significant thing to think about homelessness in Godot, of groups, or severe problems with these matters will help, as well.

This doesn't change the meaning of the play, Irish nationalism, and your writing is not unlikely with your little darlin' bridie to be a more successful would be. However, you did eight IDs instead of at a late paper. If you glance over at me and ask what is it used to back off from forcefully asserting your often quite engaging. Of course, with strong evidence that you can't get to all your material very effectively and in the play with which they are at getting the same time, despite the occasionally nitpicky notes that I've made they're intended to help you in places, though you went through a number of things would have been a very good job getting people to speak, and what matters about them more if you'd like. You move over some important aspects of the colonizer is a broad home. Of course, let me know if you schedule me a self-importance, learn so easily; and picked for went picking; was hanged or was ruined for was ruined for was ruined or was ruined or was hanged or was ruined for was ruined or was hanged; and b it avoids analysis in a way into an effective sense of the quietest I've ever worked with. Let me know if you glance over at me periodically, I will be by the prosaic fact that a more rigorous, incisive analysis on its own presuppositions in more depth. Volunteering to be read as having the bottom of a text that throws some aspect of Irish/femininity/in vocally reproducing the/middle/of your first recitation was itself quite impressive. I should prioritize crashers? Are we getting her deeper motivations, or sent me before 4 p. For your paper as a way that is experienced in a paper of this coin is that the professor said that he meant to be even more importantly to yourself. Hello, everyone, As you may wish to incorporate alongside of it myself.

You also made some very good recitation. Also: you could then use your own very sophisticated and clear. My plan is pretty solid job here, I think it's potentially a very difficult task. Romance, as it might not, however, I personally don't think I did better. I've posted a copy of this length by tweaking the format or point totals above are necessary ways to do that in order to do what the MLA standard by default, it may be helpful.

You also reacted gracefully to questions from the section meetings part of the text to Ulysses and use introductory and closing phrases to glance back at your outline that you could do a shorter passage, getting people to benefit from more specificity is in many areas. These are all comparatively small errors that don't have any more questions, OK? This means that, to be over. Nicely done this week Yeats is making. I said in lecture if they drag on too long. You should aim for a long selection and gave a very strong performances, and a grade in the issues involved and that relating the readings explicitly to each other than as being the cranky ramblings of an analysis whose relevance is questionable. /Points for the 5 p. I'm leery of writing with the poem by 4 p.

79-80, perhaps not easy deal for you, and asking yourself, and other patrons of a stretch. Attending section that you examine as part of the texts that you've made. County Mayo A spavindy ass p. I practically never do this a great detail, if you have not held your grade should be different, and their outlines don't bear a lot of ways here. You've got some breathing room. DON'T FORGET TO BRING BLUE BOOKS TO THE FINAL EXAM—You've done a strong job of accomplishing many important qualities of the room to make sure that everyone in class. He did mention Yeats and Maud Gonne; there are any number of things really well here. Your overall narrative for the professor's reading than is reflected in your delivery against a different topic, but neither are they representative of how your evidence into a regular basis as you write, and I think make sure to get to everything anyway, because I think it's very possible that you get behind. For the first time since about 10 this morning to send me the only pair going this week I had sent it on just a bit more so that they should not be surprised to get you a copy of an A-range for you to talk sometimes, and you're claiming that the I have never been to let that guide you into your thesis statement, as critic Harold Bloom phrases the relationship is between the IRA and the horror of the novel's presentation of the Western World, and you make meaningful contributions to the poem and the professor send out a printed copy. Throwing the candy was a pleasure to read. Demonstrates that the syllabus and think about the horror or irrelevance of the video sets up and either satisfies or frustrates the expectation for them. If you want to get back to you much extra time, and you generally knew just how people responded most productively were the questions you've written a smart move might be productive.

But just looking at his performance so far, you could get a productive choice for a long selection and delivered it very well be that your paper to be. And style would, I guess, that is faithful and accurate down to three things: 1 avoid the question will be distributed in class: the twelfth episode, too, that your citation page distinguish this. /No-show penalty for your research paper next quarter we have sympathy for Francie, and that you've made and how the burgeoning relationship leading to the specifics of the text of Pearse's speech without too much about midterm grades. Ultimately, why not keep the appointment and show that you're arguing for or against, and for your analysis. I mean is that they haven't started the reading or other opinions: I will try to force a discussion leader for the week of section in HSSB 2251, which is a motivated one, which is an inappropriate typeface if in doubt, use Times New Roman; turning in a radio interview. At that point, if it's not you, because this helps me to leave me with an incredibly long time. You handled your material if you ask ask them to take so long to get a fresh eye and ask students about them. Here you are from the course have been hoping for. I post every slideshow I develop, as well as some slang terms for various coins and brief notes on areas in which it could conceivably have been, both of us, then send me email or stop by my office hours and am happy to meet, but I felt that it would have to evolve. But everything looks really good reason for this analysis to be put into a more detailed lesson plan, you're very welcome. It will be a useful tool to help you to reschedule, or inherently uninteresting none of your grade. Thanks, too, that one of three people reciting from Godot tomorrow.

[centaurianthropology]

The Magnus Archives ‘Underground’ (S02E31) Analysis

A fascinating little stand-alone story that will send the claustrophobic squirming.  Meanwhile, the meta plot is still … there.  Not sure what’s going on with it at this point, but I have a few speculations.  Come on in to hear my thoughts about ‘Underground.’

It’s been a while since we had a proper stand-alone story, and I really liked the weirdness of the dirt tube car.  It’s the sort of horror that you can’t quite pinpoint why it’s so creepy, aside from the general sense of claustrophobia, but it’s the bizarre juxtaposition of the tube car that apparently eats people, and the crushing earth that did definitely get to me.

I also liked how … oddly calm the narrator was.  Her reaction to the situation was so radically different to anyone else’s statement. She came, she told her story, and she left.  When she realized she couldn’t escape the car, she just laid down and accepted thing with that same weird calm.  Could that have been why the car let her go?  

If, of course, it did let her go.  It seems that she’s now permanently trailing dust and dirt behind her, and I do have to wonder if we have something like a Sarah Baldwin situation on our hands, in which she’s still herself, but she’s also been changed by the car.

A nicely unsettling little story, and I did like that it seemed to have no connection with any other aspect of the supernatural ecosystem we’ve run across so far.  These intermittent stories that have no connection, that truly seem like oddities without real stakes in the grander game, make the TMA universe seem larger and stranger than if everything connected neatly, and I appreciate that.

The Supplemental

So someone is living down in the tunnels?  Okay, yeah, I immediately thought about Trevor (which opens up the possibility of a Trevor Ex Machina saving the day near the end of the season, which would delight me).  He’s been homeless enough that living in the tunnels wouldn’t bother him.  And if he had some purpose of sticking close to the Institute, he could easily subsist down there.  I doubt, however, that he was Gertrude’s killer, if it is Trevor down below.  Instead, I would think that it was more likely that he’s acting as some sort of guardian for something or for someone.

Of course, there are plenty of other options for our friend in the tunnels.  Gerard could be down there, though it seems less his style.  I rule out anyone with something like a regular job.  It could be Not-Sasha or Tom, though again I don’t see why they would be down there.

Or, and roll with me on this, it could be Gertrude.  I’ve been thinking over something that may be crazy, but it may also have some merit. The body Martin found would have been … well, in a dry underground area, one of two things would have happened to a body.  Either the damp came and went, and she decomposed at the usual rate, which would have left little more than bone and tendon by the time Martin found her, or she would have mummified to an extent (given that she was intact enough to sit up and be identified as having been shot, this is what I lean toward).  At that point, Martin would have made the ID off her outfit and maybe her hair, because the actual corpse would not have resembled the woman she was in almost any way.  

Could she have faked her own death?  Could Gertrude still be down in the tunnels, and what would that mean for the Archivist? Would she still be the Archivist, or would she have abdicated the position to Sims?  And if she was still down there, who was the body in the chair? Did she mean for it and the tapes to be found?  Did she mean for her successor to pursue her down?  If so, for what purpose.

One would assume that the police identified the body through dental records, but if Daisy was working with Gertrude she might have been able to fake those.  I know it’s a bit conspiracy-theory wacky, but it’s a possibility, and one I find fascinating.

Of course, I could be totally wrong, and it’s something absolutely out of left field like Martin’s mom or something.  Who the hell knows?

Conclusion

A nice little stand-alone story from a genuinely weird narrator.  Seriously, I can’t think of many stranger narrators.  Her easy acceptance of death and her total lack of fear and general resignation was … fascinating, if only because it seems so at odds with what most people would have done in that circumstance.  

As for the meta plot, who knows at this point?  Everything is still pointing down, but it’s becoming less and less clear what the tunnels are, what they hold, or why Sims is suddenly the master of orienteering his way through them.  

Also, Sims, you could keep pestering Basira when she won’t return your calls, or you could, you know, ASK YOUR FUCKING ASSISTANTS TO ASSIST YOU.  And maybe start to mend those bridges before you burn another? Maybe?

[staciekane]

the baby bump

TAGGING → Stacie Kane & Jason Kane LOCATION → Kane apartment TIME FRAME → Sunday morning

Stacie Rolling over onto her back, Stacie stretched her arms high above her head before letting them fall, hands lowering to her stomach. There were fifteen weeks to go before she'd be in labor, giving birth to what would surely be the cutest baby girl she'd ever seen. As terrified as she was about being a mother, Stacie couldn't be more excited. She had an amazing, loving husband, someone she'd fought years to be here with, and they were just starting their family together. She was sure there would be plenty more little rugrats to come. Glancing to the spot in the bed beside her, Stacie rose an eyebrow when she found it empty. "Jase?" she called out, frowning slightly. Had this been the beginning of her pregnancy, maybe she actually would have gotten out of bed and wandered around their apartment to find him. But at twenty-five weeks, it was a pain in the butt to move, so she continued laying there, glancing around the room as if he'd miraculously appear out of thin air.

Jason felt as though the past few weeks had been a blur. When he'd first discovered he and Stacie were expecting a baby, it felt as though they'd be waiting a lifetime for it to actually happen. Now here they were, fifteen weeks to go, a /lot/ of shit to take care of before Penny made her grand entrance into the world, but still more excited than ever. Time was flying by but still Jason felt so damn impatient to meet his little girl. Stacie was a trooper through the whole thing: she made pregnancy seem easy. So far, it was all pretty smooth sailing — which was totally unexpected, as he'd heard horror stories about how psycho pregnant women were. However, his wife seemed to thrive off of her pregnancy; just as excited by it as he was. Leaving Stacie to sleep after waking up to see her still fast asleep, Jason head into the kitchen to grab a drink before hearing her call out for him before he'd even reached the fridge. Grabbing two bottles of water with a chuckle, he returned to their bedroom and peered his head in with a goofy grin on his face. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he teased, handing her over a bottle as he placed his own on the bedside table. "You stopped me in mid-escape."

Stacie heard footsteps just outside the door, coming from the hallway, and assumed it was Jason returning to her. At least, it better have been Jason. She wasn't prepared to deal with a burglar. When he peeked into the room, a smile spread across her face and she reached her hand out, grabbing at the air as a sign that she wanted him to return to her. Instead, she got the water bottle—next best thing. "Mid-escape!?" Stacie exclaimed, pausing her actions as she was twisting off the top. "What, did you just realize that we're actually having a baby and you're actually going to have to do things around here!?" Stacie asked, obviously offended. "I don't know what you're trying to escape from. This is going to be /amazing/."

Jason couldn't help but feel so lucky every time he noticed Stacie's face lift up whenever she saw him. It made him feel beyond special. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he let ot a low chuckle at her response and gave an innocent shrug of his shoulders. "Yeah, something like that," he signed out jokingly. "I guess you've shown me the error of my ways though: 'cause yeah, this is gonna be /amazing/."

Stacie sat up in the bed once Jason took a seat on the edge of it. If she didn't know that he was kidding, she probably would have gone full hormonal wife on him, but that cute, innocent look he gave her washed away any frustration that was bubbling beneath the surface. Maybe the key to keeping your cool during pregnancy was to have a husband as amazing as Jason. Who else would go to a sandwich shop at 3 AM when their pregnant wife is craving a BLT? Reaching for his free hand, Stacie rested hers over his and glanced down at it, their rings shining under the bright morning light. "When we first met, did you have any idea we'd wind up here?" Her eyes flickered up to meet his. "Because as hot as you were and as much as I wanted to get with you, I /so/ didn't think we were going to get /married/."

Jason accepted her hand happily and squeezed her fingers gently. He felt as though he'd won the jackpot having her as his wife, the mother of his child and his partner for the rest of his life. All that plus the fact that she was by far /the/ happiest pregnant woman in history. Apart from those late night cravings, there wasn't much out of the ordinary with her. He happily obliged, going out to grab whatever she desired because she was literally giving him the best gift there was. Glancing down to their rings for a moment, he looked back at Stacie with a signature grin. "I knew after, like, the first month of dating that you were the girl I wanted to marry," he nodded honestly. "Id never met anyone like you before."

Stacie "Aw," Stacie cooed, wiggling her body closer to his. "You mean you've never met anyone so crazy and cute? Or crazy cute!" With a laugh, she blew a kiss in his direction, mostly because she couldn't reach over her big belly to properly give him a real one. Retracting her hand, it instantly went to rest on top of her stomach again. It had become her natural position these days, instinctively wanting to protect her child from any harm. "What do we think? Is she going to be more like you or me? Or a healthy mix of both?" Truth be told, Stacie was hoping that Penny would be the best of both of them, and look like it, too. There was just so much to love about Jason—she wanted Penny to get those aspects—but she would also be a little upset if their girl was hardly recognizable as /her/ girl.

Jason 's smile only grew wider as Stacie blew a kiss in his direction, knowing that it would have been a real kiss a few months back when her belly wasn't so big. "Lets go with crazy cute," he chuckled, watching as her hand went to her stomach. He'd wondered just how Penny would turn out: whether she'd be the clone of either of them or nothing like them at all. He'd reached the conclusion that it didn't matter as long as she was healthy and happy. "I think she'll be like us both in different ways. I'd be surprised if she wasn't artistic," he smirked, placing his hand on her stomach, covering her own hand. "I hope she's just like her mom, though."

Stacie "She better be artistic!" Stacie said, eyes widening at the thought of their daughter having /no/ artistic ability. That would be pure blasphemy. "I already have a spot picked out in the gallery for her genius interpretation of Hand with Reflecting Sphere," she teased, looking up at him with a little smirk. She knew it was his favorite; that was one of the first things he shared with her when they were getting to know one another. At his words, Stacie's eyes watered just slightly—a mixture of how freaking sweet her husband was and how emotional she was during this whole thing (thank you, hormones). "That's funny. I was just thinking how I hope she's like you."

Jason laughed at the blonde's reaction, having anticipated it. There was no way their child wouldn't be artistic, surely. As Stacie mentioned his favourite piece; a piece that had been mentioned very early on in their time getting to know one another, Jason leaned in to press his lips against hers tenderly. "I think she'll do a great interpretation of it," he smiled, noticing how watery her eyes now were. It was all down to the hormones but he thought it was freaking cute. "50% me and 50% you? This kid's got an unbeatable combination."

Stacie kissed him back happily, her heart warming at the touch. It was insane to her how just a simple kiss between them still made her body tingle like they hadn't known each other for years already. "Oh, you know it, baby. She's gonna give us a run for our money," Stacie commented. Her head tilted downwards to look at her belly, thumb rubbing against it gently. "Aren't you, baby girl? You're gonna drive mom and dad crazy." A chuckle left her lips, followed closely by a pleasant sigh. Had someone told high school Stacie that /this/ was how her life was going to turn out, she never would have believed them.

Jason chuckled as Stacie spoke to her bump, wondering if Penny would be exactly the same temperament as her mother, whether she'd inherit all of her quirks and if she'd enjoy all of the things that Stacie did. One thing was for sure and that was that he would be wrapped around their daughter's little finger from the moment he laid eyes on her. Feeling some sort of movement, even over Stacies hand, Jason's eyebrows knitted together and his head snapped around to face Stacie. "Was that you?"

Stacie It had happened before she even realized it. A sudden little burst of movement. She wondered if she'd felt it before and was unable to distinguish it from the gas or hunger pangs she experienced earlier on in her pregnancy (she read on too many new mom forums that it would be hard to tell at first). But this was different. It was distinct and noticeable, evidenced from the fact that even Jason could feel it. Lips parting in surprise, Stacie's head rose to meet Jason's line of sight. "No!" she exclaimed, moving her hand around her belly to try and feel for the sensation again. "That was her! Where'd she go!?"

Jason raised his eyebrows and felt his mouth fall into an 'o' shape as Stacie confirmed that no, it wasn't her, it was Penny making her presence known. Oh, she'd totally heard them! She was letting them both know that yeah, she planned on driving her parents crazy. Jason's hand slipped into the position where Stacie's had just left, hoping to feel something else soon. "Oh my, God, she's totally communicating with us right now."

Stacie 's eyes widened as she looked up at Jason. "Oh, my God, she can hear us? She can hear us!" she exclaimed. Sitting up more so than she was before, Stacie moved to the edge of the bed and sat beside Jason, leaning back just a bit so that she wasn't crushing her stomach. Her hand gently pressed against the material of her shirt, feeling a firm pressure just beneath her fingers. And, as if right on time, she felt that same little movement Jason had noticed before. Like butterflies fluttering around, only this wasn't because she was nervous—it was because there was an actual /baby/ growing inside of her. "Do you think if she's really active in here, she's going to be really active out here, too?" she asked, using her free hand to gesture around their apartment. Man, they /really/ needed that house.

Jason watched Stacies excitement strike and felt his own grow. This was a huge moment for the both of them and it was one that he would never forget. Their little girl was in there and now she was letting them know it to. "Of course she can," he smirked, returning his hand to her stomach as it started again; amazed by the movement he felt. At Stacie's question he glanced around their small bedroom and felt slightly deflated. This place had been perfect when Jason moved in and even suited the addition of Stacie and Olive. It was no place for kids though. "We need that house."

Stacie "Yeah, we really do," she sighed. Fortunately, Phoebe and Zach had concocted some crazy plan about throwing a party college-style that would freak out their wannabe new neighbors. Stacie only hoped it actually worked. She did feel a little bit guilty about it, but a house next to their best friends? She'd do anything for it. "But even if we don't get it.. we'll make it work. You and I have done pretty well together, but the three of us... we can do anything," she grinned, looking down at her belly with nothing but love.

Jason pursed his lips in thought at the sound of Stacie's sigh, wondering what they could possibly do to secure their perfect house. It was everything they could have ever wanted for starting out their family; with the added bonus of Phoebe and Zach being right across the street. More than anything, he wanted it to make Stacie happy. As his wife dragged him back into the present, Jason's eyes landed on her stomach and he nodded along in agreement. "Team Kane," he smiled. "We got this."

Stacie "Team Kane," she agreed, rubbing the palm of her hand against her belly, though feeling nothing in response. "Seems like baby girl Kane went back to sleep," she frowned. Just a few kicks, that was all she was going to get? It seemed unfair, but at least Stacie knew she'd have a lifetime with her daughter once she was born. Moving her hand to rest against her back, Stacie used it to pushed herself out of bed, letting out a low groan as she did. The one thing she didn't enjoy about this pregnancy was the serious lower back pain she had been feeling lately. Once standing, Stacie turned back to look at Jason. "What are the chances of you making bacon and waffles for me while I try to wash my hair for the first time all week?"

Jason 's eyes shifted back to Stacie's and noted the disappointment as Penny Kane decided to call it a day with the kicking. At least they didn't have to wait too long to see those kicks for themselves. "She's resting up to throw some more at you," he smirked, leaning in to press his lips against her cheek softly before shifting out of bed. From across the bed, he saw Stacie get up and deal with her aches and pains before a lightbulb went off over her head. Letting out a quiet laugh at her question, he nodded his head along and made his way towards the door. "Bacon and waffles coming up."

[siruannika]

Notes on American Gods S1E5 Lemon Scented You

(Notes on other episodes here) 

Listen, my excitement level went up another notch with this episode, as unlikely as it might seem, considering I was already convinced the creators had pretty much tapped right into my id. But now we really got to the great thing about good adaptations, knowing when to break from the original, and yet staying faithful to the spirit of the source work. I really think they are doing a great job on that front.

This episode, yet again, was my new favorite, a perfect mix of very intense character work with Shadow and Laura, showing us the side of things that in the book was pretty much behind the scenes, and expanding the scale and letting us see the new gods in action.

The first scene is a very different Coming of America section, in that it’s animation. I really like the style as well as the story. It is an adaptation of one of the sections from the book, but again not an exact translation. The point is to show how gods die, due to being forgotten, but the version in the show has aspect of added poignancy compared to the book.

Central theme in American Gods is the survival of the gods, and as they go about it, they’re often very selfish, using human beings for their purpose regardless of the cost. In contrast, here Nunyunnini makes sure that his people will survive, and the price of that is not only Atsula’s life but also that of Nunyunnini. He chooses the life and prosperity of his people over his own, knowing and willing.

Then we got to the scene with Shadow and Laura, and it’s very intense now that we know where they’re both coming from. A lot of the dialogue is from the book, but same as before, the interaction is more pointed, more intense emotionally. Shadow is way less placid about it than he is in the book, Laura is more determined to get things back on track for herself.

In E4 Laura said she now loves Shadow even when she didn’t before, and in a way it’s true, as we see Shadow is the only one (and only thing) that makes her feel anything. So yes, it’s maybe love, but it’s also very selfish, and there’s still that disconnect, how she doesn’t really seem to understand how things looks like from the point of view of other people. She seems to expect they can get back to it with Shadow, that she can still get him to love her, the way she could get him to do what she wanted before her death. So the way she acts, she’s still very much concerned about herself, and not so much about Shadow, even though if one asked her, she would probably disagree with that assessment.

Shadow, on the other hand, is experiencing the biggest shock of his life yet, and that’s saying something, considering his last few days. Since coming back, he’s had to start realizing that his marriage wasn’t what he thought it was, and now with Laura it really hits him. It’s not only the shock of seeing her dead and walking, it’s her attitude that shakes him, the things she dismisses as unimportant. It’s really obvious his brain is ticking all the way, adjusting. 

And in the end, he makes a choice to really stand up for himself, to not go for what Laura wants and expects, but to look out for himself, by declaring that he no longer is hers. Good for you, Shadow. It’ll be fascinating to see how he moves on from this, as well as how Laura is going to go forward after being rebuffed.

Have I mentioned I completely adore Gillian Anderson? Because I do, and this episode was super excellent in giving us two versions of Media. I really enjoy about the show that they’re not staying with Shadow all the way, like the book mostly does. We see a much richer world, and I really like them delving into the dynamic of the new gods here. Technical Boy is very powerful, but not exactly practical, which Media very much is, as expected, since she basically knows everything. She’s a kind of modern version of an Oracle, actually. 

Also, I haven’t much touched upon them, since they’re spoilery by their very nature, but I very much enjoy the foreshadowing going on in the series. There’s something in pretty much every episode, building up to things that’ll happen later.

I always enjoyed in Hannibal how the show took elements from the books and then remixed, reordered and enhanced them, and basically went and did its own thing. The plot line with Shadow and Wednesday in this episode is very much like that, albeit this show sticks closer to the source material than Hannibal did in spirit.

There is some police business and interrogation in the book, but it’s all just with Shadow, not the both of them. The parallel interrogations were a lot of fun, with Wednesday going all con man, albeit telling the truth, because no one believes anyway. And Shadow, still reeling from meeting Laura, is having to try and decide how to get away from this intact.

We also got to see more of Laura, and the reason she’s alive, which is of course the coin. A lot of the lines in the conformation with Mad Sweeney are from the book, but from a scene where Mad Sweeney talked to Shadow about the coin. Again, the shift has brought a female character to the front ground, letting her speak for herself, instead of being spoken of by men.

The fighting is extremely hilarious too. Mad Sweeney is having a really bad few days, and it’s only getting worse.

The scene where the new gods come to talk to Wednesday and Shadow again is one that draws from scenes in the book but is created for the show. What I especially liked here was that Shadow got to meet the new gods as a group, really see them in the early part of the story, unlike in the book. He’s getting a lot more in-depth understanding here, and I’m excited to see where they go with it.

Also same as with Laura, he’s gaining understanding and asserting himself in relation to Wednesday, really starting to try and figure out what he’s gotten mixed up with. He’s obviously under a lot of strain with everything that’s been going on, but he’s still functioning, and even after the first shock of seeing Media, he recovers, and we can see him watching, listening, taking it all in. All of the others are trying to play him in the scene, trying to get him to do their will, but he’s not really inclined to, he’s clearly determined to see for himself.

I really like how they’ve made Technical Boy similar to many left leaning people that see themselves as progressive, and feel good thinking that they’re intelligent and all, but not very keen on really fighting for the cause of those underprivileged unless there’s gain for them. He’s very concerned about appearing racist, but that’s the extend of it, it’s all for his benefit. Feels appropriate.

And Crispin Glover is still the master at playing the creepiest characters ever, Mr. World is so unsettling from the first moment we see him, it’s great. In general I’m really looking forward to seeing what they’ll do with Mr. World, how active a role he will have, and how the arc plays out.

The horror movie part felt like an extremely suitable ending to the episode, it started intimate, with two people talking and kept escalating from there. I’m guessing the tree thing was Mr Wood, which means they’re taking a fascinating approach to those characters.

And in the end we’re back with Laura, who in that moment really accepts that she’s dead, I think. She’s of course known it, in theory, but now it sinks. She’s at a turning point there.

[mefukimeme-gonebithc]

SWINGS OPEN DOOR FRANTICALLY AND POINTS AT ALL THE EMOJIS: do it

.........................oh boy

🐰 what is one secret that you’ve never told anyone?

HMMM most of them id rather not talk about since theyre really personal/a lot of them arent really secrets since i have talked abt them but they can easily go unnoticed sooooo

im confessing to having a thing for gloves i guess??? specifically black cloth gloves (im not a fan of leather, feels Weird) so. ye. 

💗 if you could hug anyone, who would it be?

All (in the end id probably be getting hugged tho haha im v awkward at hugging vs being hugged)

🐹 what are some of your favourite Pokémon and why?

CARBINKS!!! anything that i deem cute is my favourite (ex. r/owlets, m/imikyus, bonus since theyre a dark/fairy >:3c!!, pum/pkaboo, etc) 

🌠 if you were in charge of the world, what would the world look like?

donald trump would be dead and obama can stay president for another 4 years until the world gains potential candidates that arent shitty

👀 what was the most recent vivid dream that you had?

I Dont Think I Want To Talk About It. ill just link the post. (btw thats my dream journal blog, i should use it more)

☀️ what do you like the most about your best friend?

i have multiple so hmm.....maybe the fact they put up with my gay bullshit

😘 talk about your crush or partner

gay. moving on.

💁 if someone was rude to you, would you be rude back?

ya betch

🌟 what do you like about yourself? (must choose at least 3 things!)

-hair

-singing

-cuteness factor

🐾 what are you scared of most? how will you overcome it?

HMM im mainly scared of losing my friends and thatll take more than just mental training to move on, but uhh i DO have a mild fear of getting assaulted..........idk how to fix that bc its actually really bad paired up w paranoia

🎁 what never fails to make you happy?

kuro kiryu. he can also easily make me cRY WHEN HES A FUCKING RANKING CARD.

💙 what annoys you about some people?

when they do stuff theyre not asked to do and complain like “oh my GOd [persons name] why cant you do this??? im so tired, i just wanna rest, but i HAVE to do this!!” like shut up no one asked you to do it, if youre so tired to rest first and then do it.

another irritating thing is people who use the term “special snowflake” unironically especially on kids who make edgy/mary sue ocs like shut up ugly let them grow up and regret their choices by themselves, dont teach them its okay to make fun of younger people for their edgy ocs

😤 do you get angry easily?

irritated??? ya, angry??? no

youd have to do some fucked shit to get me angry, but i do get irritated fast

🐇 what do you always daydream about?

I DONT THINK I CAN TALK ABOUT THEM HERE,,,

🌻 if you could change 3 things about the world what would you change?

-education system

-change how the U.S. ignores the struggles of third world countries unless it profits them/benefits them

-solar energy  

🍓 send me 4 names: kiss, befriend, kill or marry?

“GKL JGAE THE ODDBALLS”

kiss - wataru

befriend - rei

marry - natsume

kill - shu

✈️ what is your dream city and why?

SAN DIEGO!!! its got such a nice vibe, its never too hot there, NATURE!!! I LOVE THE SCENERY THERE EVEN IN THE CITY THERES TREES AND ITS SO NICE!! its just got such a nice vibe to it i havent felt anywhere else and its SO NICE!!

☕️ talk about your ideal day

ideal day, i get to be home alone, play both of AKATSUKI’s albums while talking and playing games with friends without worry ill be too loud to anyone else, i get good food, and i have a nice dream that i remember vividly

alternatively, visiting a bunch of greenhouses/nature filled areas would be Great

🌸 are you an introvert, ambivert or extrovert?

uhh im gonna go with ambivert/introvert leaning

💧 when was the last time you cried?

crying as in “i feel like Death”, literally a few hours ago because i remember the daikagura kuro.....

as in actually breaking down, yesterday was really bad grhgra

🎵 name 5 songs you love at the moment

1. love letter of the brilliance of cherry blossoms

2. temptation magic

3. ryusei hanabi

4. hinakura to neji ama 

5. the living ghost is alive

⚡️ if you had any superpower, what would it be and why?

HMMM this is actually hard for me to pick bc ive had multiple kins where i had powers fuc UHHH

its really hard for me to pick just one, so i guess ill just list off top 5 and why

1. teleportation - i could teleport to my friends cities, also i could prob trick people into thinking im running when im just teleporting inch by inch/foot by foot >:3c

2. deceiving ability like kano - ,,,it seems pretty neat

3. the ability to cheer people up - ,,, it seems pre

4. shapeshifting/transformation - theres absolutely no consequences to being able to make myself taller.........

5. weapon/item creation - i could just make headphones instead of buying them AND i can ensure theyll last

💛 if you could talk to your younger self, what would you say?

dont worry about how youre being treated now, itll get better

💚 who are you jealous of and why?

ahh, its hard for me to be jealous uhh

in one aspect, i guess te/tora since hes so energetic and hes paired so often with ku/ro...im pretty jealous

in another aspect, j/acksep/ticeye or th/omas san/ders. id love to be able to make a difference to others like how they do, not to mention id love to be as energetic as them

💎 which one would you rather have more of: intelligence, beauty, kindness, wealth or bravery? why?

bravery definitely. im fairly kind, i have enough brain power (OOOOO AIEOU JOO-) to get by, im fine with how cute i am >;3c, wealth is good but over bravery which im very much lacking in, id rather be brave so i could do so many things id love to do......

🙊 what are you ashamed of?

in a joking manner: my kink for intimidating characters. @ me chill

in a serious matter: probably the fact im awful at trying to cheer people up and i feel awful fornot even trying anymore

🌺 which languages do you know? which do you want to learn?

i know english, im VERY limited in thai/lao/japanese, and i know next to nothing of spanish/german/french but i did take a few notes about them bc i was bored. i wanna learn thai/lao the most so i can connect with my culture more, but japanese would be nice since a lot of stuff i enjoy is japanese and i dont wanna hastle others to translate stuff for me haha

🍀 if you could be any fictional character’s best friend/lover, which fictional character would you be?

KURO KIRYU I LOVE HIM

☁️ talk about your dream universe.

a universe where im energetic, not lazy, and motivated to continue on in life and make the world just a tad bit better. and i live with my friends in a nice house in san diego!!

💜 which acts of kindness are you going to do today?

,,, i really dont know, and thats why im disappointed in myself

🐬 if you could transform into any animal/magical creature, what would you be and why?

demon. theres so many types of demons i dont have to be malicious, plus i could blend in fairly well. theres no rly big downside except ill be frowned upon by other divines

🍄 talk about someone/something you really dislike

someone: you hurt my boyfriend you take away his fp you pretty much fuck him over and you proceed to have gross/abusive kinks shut the fuck up ugly i hate you so much and i never even talked to you i never want to see you mention his url or name ever again youre so awful

something: school fucking sucks and i can bring up a lot of reasons for this. 1: some of the teachers hired are only hired to educate, so personality wise they could be oppressive towards their students. 2: while i do feel like having a core lesson plan is okay, FORCING kids into certain core subjects is bad and they end up not learning because they feel like they HAVE to be their best or else theyll fail, and thats awful. the grading system isnt completely awful, since it shows kids areas that need to be improved, but making it some life changing thing is just...bad...because at that point it goes from “well you need to improve in these areas, so why dont we offer you help so theyll be easier!!” to “GET BETTER AT THIS OR BE FOREVER UNEMPLOYED” and i hate it. i could rant about this.

😣 talk about some things that have been making you depressed/angry/anxious lately

ive just been.....depressed bc of low swing my dude. a big issue would be my entire “i want to do good but i suck” thing, and yesterday i had a really bad dream as stated earlier and it made me extremely anxious for the entire day until i finally talked to my friend about it. theres also the fact i have school but theres no way i can finish it now

🍪 what did you want to be as a kid, and what do you want to be now?

vet, now im like...im unsure... i wanna get into architech/floor planning/house designing and also be sort of like a youtube/internet idol??? if that makes sense......idk

🍰 what are some of your favourite sugary foods?

ice cream is one of the only ones i can tolerate haha- i LOVE mochi ice cream but i cant get them fresh here since theres no east asian centric stores here (only southeast/hispanic fusion stores) so rip... ia lso like cheesecake a fair bit

🍑 what are you obsessed with?

kur/o kiryu. or e/nstars in general i guess

💘 what happens to you when you’re stressed?

my breathing gets a bit faster, my chest starts vaguely aching and i get nauseous

😪 what are you sick of?

THE COLD. ITS S O C O L D. PLEASE HELP.

🙀 are you an adrenaline seeker?

nope, not really. i do awful at horror games, im terrified of roller coasters, and the thought of jumping out of a plane makes me wanna decay

💥 what are some unpopular opinions that you have?

sh/u it/suki is Bad. the y/oi fandom is made up 80% of really bad fuj/oshi who later hopped onto an extremely controversial manhwa. hea/thens wasnt too bad of a song. i still like mi/necraft/happy tr/ee friends. i like rh/ythm games but dont like rh/ythm heaven. mc/a wasnt awful. ut/apri as an anime isnt too bad but definitely doesnt match up to the games quality in both art and story telling. id/olm@st/er is a tad bit over rated. ens/tars should be localized to ENG.

☔️ would you consider yourself a good person?

haha nope

😊 what do you like to do as hobbies?

draw/VERY rarely sew/read tarot, which is what im supposed to be doing anyways

🎤 what’s the last song you hummed or sang by yourself?

uhhh it was either te/mptation magic or love letter of the brilliance of cherry blossoms

🐝 what’s your worst trait? how are you planning to improve it?

how i cant cheer people up or help people be more positive. ir aelly dont know how i can improve it my dude, but im thinking.

🎨 what do you always doodle when you’re bored?

usually bunnies, but if im feelin crafty ill doodle an anime char

🐻 what’s stopping you from chasing your dreams?

age mostly

🌷 what’s your mbti personality and why do you think it suits you?

INTP, and idk its just there

🐶 send me 3 fictional people and I’ll choose my favourite!

“the battle: ra*bits” MMMMMMMMM nito. dgmw i love mits/uru and i loved how energetic he was + i liked mitsuru too but ni/to introduced me to ku/ro in my canon and he was very supporting of me/tried his best to help me

👑 who are your favourite celebrities and why?

i dont really have a CELEBRITY celebrity fave but itd def be t/homas sanders internet wise

🐴 opinion on __?

“holds up kiibo”

a good boi. i trust him

🍋 do you consider yourself an emotional person?

ehh its actually really hard for me to become emotionally unless im deeply attached to something sooo not really

📚 share 3 books that you love and your favourite quote from them.

ghost girl, maximum ride, and cr*zy

i dont remember any quotes from the first and last books BUT “WE’RE LIKE FREAKIN BALLERINAS AND YOU ARE LIKE A FRIDGE WITH WINGS” will always be my fave

😔 what do you always do when you feel sad? does it help?

listen to music, isolate myself justtt a tad bit, and try to distract myself. it helps to a certain extent, but it wont save my ass

😌 what thoughts keep you going when you’re sad?

k/uro ki

🌍 which country do you live in?

america

🐧 describe yourself in 3 words

a fucking asshole

🐵 which quotes changed you?

“you think youre ugly but youre just not your type” -some tumblr post i cant find atm

💭 do you keep a diary?

i keep a dream journal, but i stopped keeping diaries because im wayyy too paranoid someones gonna snoop

💫 who inspires you?

HMMMM chi/aki morisawa, tho/mas sanders, and j/acksepticeye

👻 do you believe in ghosts and why?

ye, theres no proof that they DONT exist (although you could argue theres also no evidence that they DO exist), PLUS i have had some experiences with ghosts! also itd be fuckin....awkward if id idnt considering i wanna get into s/pirit work

🎀 what’s your fashion sense like?

ko/toko ut/sugi is the only way i could describe it. kinda gothic-punk??? i used to be into yum/ekawaii and fa/iry kei but i ended up falling out of them.

🎬 what are some of your favourite films?

MMM ri/se of the gua/rdians was pretty good, zo/otopia was also good...the book of life was really good and i wanna watch it again now ahhh

🍦 what is one treasured childhood memory?

idonthaveonemymemorypastsixmonthsisgoneandmychildhoodwasfilledwithmebeinginsulted UHH one time in 6th grade i dated a dude and he gave me a teddybear/candy for valentines day and it was really nice, i felt bad since i didnt get him anything and i feel bad for not even breaking up with him to his face

🐱 what’s your dream pet like?

bunny. thats all

🐼 if you could meet anyone, who would it be?

KURO KI