#but what makes it a tragedy is that what happened to them wasn't inevitable. there were times when they made pretty solid attempts at

[rookflower]

"everyone in mapleshade's vengeance (minus the kits and whatever other exceptions whatever person making this point opts to include) is a bad person" is a take that does indeed work to establish that yes, this is a story piloted by every party with any agency acting out of cruelty and hurting others, and is also an attempt at gesturing towards nuance (or at least, thinking outside of black and white morality. it is in itself a kinda inherently un-nuanced take) within the idea of good vs evil in the story. however where i believe the issue with the phrase lies is in the assertion that the reason why these characters are enacting violence on each other is because of some unique inherent nastiness they were born with or that were predisposed into their character writing rather than addressing that their flaws (while still horrible) are specifically systemically driven.

before she kills ravenwing, mapleshade commits no crime that is worth the persecution she faces, and her mistakes are in fear of facing what she inevitably does. she does not obfuscate information about her childrens' parentage or take them into that river out of malice or uncaring, she does it because she lives in a society that will exile her children in a storm once it finds out that they are illegitimate, and see that she leaves. the birchface thing likely exacerbated her punishment, sure, but she still had no safety net. if it could happen under that circumstance it could happen under any, and that is the tragedy of it. (the bridge-she-couldve-crossed thing is clearly not something the authors remembered or considered so is kind of textually irrelevant)

likewise, frecklewish does not display some unique inherent xenophobia to herself that we don't also see across the timeline from dotc to present, that even characters the writers intend as sympathetic like crowfeather and gray wing will display. this doesn't whatsoever absolve her of culpability, cruelty is cruelty regardless of the source, but it isn't her that is the source of her own hatred, it is the clan system, and her own grief that is amplifying it. "frecklewish wasn't sent to the dark forest for the river thing, it was because she yelled at the kids" is a funny take because yeah to us the readers her violent outburst is clearly her "wrong", but in-universe i really don't think starclan would care LMAO.

now, as with a lot of things in warrior cats that are deeper than the text on page i''m not sure the erins are necessarily consciously Trying to write the clan system as an inherently cruel, violent, and bigoted system- they might very well be throwing in antagonistic characters with the intent that their prejudices and toxic patriotism just form naturally and randomly like mutuations- but as i've said before i do find an interesting parallel between the series' necessity to maintain its status quo and flow of conflict for sake of marketability and series continuation, and the fact that the world in-universe has a code with xenophobia baked into its laws and consistently writes conflicts about the cruelty of the warrior code without ever being able to take steps to major to address and remedy the flaws that lead to this conflict lest it Paint The Clans As The Bad Guys or force them to step too far away from their tried and true formula, so the cycle continues. i think that's the tragedy of mapleshade's vengeance to me- it's a story that occurs because of some pointless interclan war about rocks or whatever else and everything that occurs to mapleshade is done to her by cogs and/or perpatrators of this machine that values compliance and order and clan isolationism. she's a minorly selfish and oblivious person, she isn't born evil. the people that hurt her aren't conniving supervillains, they're just people with the capacity for cruelty given the motivation and the chance. and that's worse, in a way, because they come out on the right side of history and like a dozen generations later squirrelflight and leafpool are going to get put on a trial to go to hell for the same crime that got her exiled, because the system is fucked and the system hasn't changed.

[jaylver]

CASINO LOVE AFFAIR — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Hunting supernatural beings is not your passion at all. But somehow, you were always inevitably tied to it. To make your grudge against it deeper, someone had to drag you along a bumpy ride. Who was it? The man that broke into your house in the middle of the night to convince you to join him to save his lost brother in Sin City, Vegas. Jay had one chance to save his brother, and another one chance to rekindle something that was lost between you and him. All in that one casino.

PAIRINGS: supernatural hunter!jay x supernatural hunter afab!reader

GENRE: frenemies (with benefits) to lovers, supernatural au, inspired by tv series "supernatural", jay is based off "dean winchester", romance, angst, action

WARNING(S): profanities, drinking, mentions of death/murder, violence, suggestive content (no smut), slightly possessive jay, demons, possessions

WC: 11k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: specially dedicated to my supernatural enthusiasts, especially to my dean girlies (gn) who loves jay! rest assured, there's going to be hoon ver (based off sammy) <3 i hope you'll love this one as much as i enjoyed writing it, please leave feedbacks!!

masterlist | © jaylver 2023

In this world, accidents and tragedies were recurring happenings, but what people didn't understand was the fact that neither were coincidences. You heard that right, it might sound insanely crazy, but the supernatural exists. 

There were two types of people on planet Earth. Ones that were blessed with obliviousness, unaware that the local murder case wasn't just a simple serial killer on the loose. Then, there's the ones that were rather cursed with the ability of hunting, knowing the real truths behind tragedies and solving said supernatural cases. They were known as hunters.

No, not the hunters that chase after deers with a gun, but rather chasing after demons, vampires and much more freaky stuff with more than just a single gun.

You were, unfortunately, part of the small percentage of hunters that were tasked to hunt supernatural beings and protect others. You never wanted this life, you despised it, the constant fear constantly followed. It was your father who dragged you into this, being a hunter himself, it was natural he had to train you to become one as well. 

You were an only child, so it was no surprise your father ended up dragging you along to hunts and let's say the amount of therapy wasn't enough to heal the traumas you've witnessed and experienced. Dread was the feeling you carried up until your 20s, tired of this life and craving the normal college life of an ordinary being, but then that was when everything changed. Your father was killed. 

You guessed it, freak accident with a vampire. Fantastic. Just to make things even more complicated, the infamous Park brothers turned up at your front door pretending to be police officers, doing their usual investigation, or rather identity fraud. What they didn't know was that you knew who they were, so they were eventually busted. You still accepted their help either way, finding the vampires and bringing your father to justice.

That all happened a few years ago, constantly staying in contact with the Park brothers while they travelled around hunting and you stayed home merrily, occasionally meeting if they were in town. Mostly, the best you could repay them was at least some help in information. You were glad to finally start afresh, getting a new job and shopping for new furniture. You thought this was it, time to settle down and put everything in the past.

But, you spoke too soon.

You were a light sleeper. From the years of your father's gruelling training, you learnt to listen for any weird noses during the night, and it surely did help. You could barely sleep, hearing odd creaks as your adrenaline increased, imagining the scenario where you had to reach for the iron knife under your bed. 

Creak. Creak. Creak.

The faint footstep got closer and louder, reaching your side of the bed, standing right beside you and stopped eventually. You sensed a figure, this wasn't good. Demon? Vampire? Your hand slowly travelled down to the spot of your knife, eyes shut tight and heart beating crazily. In the count of three, strike.

One … two … three—

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there tiger,"

Your hand reacted first, thrusting the knife forward without your eyes open, but once the voice travelled into your ears and your mind turned, you opened your eyes in an instant.

This was worse than a demon. 

"Jay?"

One of the Park brothers happened to be standing in the middle of your bedroom. At three in the morning. Were you going to question how he got in? Maybe later.

"Y/N," he saluted back at you, a noticeable grin on his face despite the darkness, but you remained impassive, a wary look on your face and your hold on the knife didn't relax.

“Hold on,” you said, scrambling out of bed, scepticism clear in your voice, your stance unchanged as you held tight onto the knife. “Are you really Jay?”

Jay tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. "You're seriously doubting me? Right now?"

"Hey, I'm a hunter, you're a hunter, we both know this is basic caution,"

"Alright," he threw his hands up, giving in. "Quiz me,"

"Where's my birthmark?"

"You're seriously asking this—?"

"You've forgotten it?" You stared accusingly at him, the knife in your hand was dangerously close to him and he was clearly aware of that too. "You're the only person who knows this," you narrowed your gaze.

"It's been ages since the last time we fucked—"

"Can you not bring that up?"

"Fine. On your back," he answered, his eyes flickering between you and the knife. 

"Where?"

"That specific?" He whined, but once he saw you were, in fact, not kidding, he cleared his throat. "Lower back, on the right, almost at the side. It's a small birthmark that is shaped like a heart,"

You blinked. Thankful it wasn't some creature disguised as him, but also churning in slight rage that he was here. Look, you and Jay had … some interesting history. No bad blood was caused from it, but it had affected your ties with him, which explained why he was the lesser favourite brother to you. He was never going to know that though.

Just for old times sake and also not seeing him for months, you threw the knife onto the bed, engulfing him into a hug. "Gods, you're alive,"

He chuckled, his hand rubbing your back. "Of course I am. Doubting my skills now?"

"Jay, you literally died and came back before," you pulled away, staring pointedly at him.

"That was the past, this is the present," he waved it off, coughing awkwardly and you rolled your eyes. You switched on your table lamp, taking a small bottle from your bedside drawer and handing it to him.

"What's this? Complimentary water for guests?" 

"Holy water, if you count that as complimentary,"

"You're kidding. I passed your quiz,"

"I'm trying to be sure there's no hidden demon inside your body, okay?" You raised the small bottle to eye level. "Drink up,"

"Fine," Jay gritted, snatching the bottle from your hand, chugging half of it down. No demon, thankfully. "See?"

"Just wanted to confirm," you tossed the bottle back into the drawer, turning to face him with a quizzical stare. "Now, are you going to tell me why you've broken into my house in the middle of the night?"

"Breaking in? Pft," 

"Jay," you said flatly, a stern look gazing back at him. "What are you doing here?"

Jay clenched his jaw, seemingly rethinking his words in his mind, calculatingly picking the right ones to make sure you wouldn't explode. "I need help,"

"No,"

"What?" He was taken aback by your bluntness. "You always helped us,"

"Busting into my house at 3 AM doesn't sound like your usual need for my help. You want me to do something more hands-on, don't you?"

Jay was silent. You got him there.

"Jay, I am always here for help. You do know I literally commit illegal things just to dig up information for you two right? But that's the most I'll do and the least I can do for you, I swore I wouldn't go back into hunting,"

"But this one's important,"

"You have Sunghoon to help you anyway,"

"He's gone," 

The next few sentences you had in mind died in your throat. The other Park brother was missing? There was no way this happened. They were skilled hunters, what went wrong?

Jay cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, noticing your obvious shock. "Look, that's why I'm here. Hoon's gone, poof, missing. One second he was at the motel and the next when I got back, he's gone. I should've never left,"

"Any ideas what it could've been?"

"No," he shook his head, frustration laced in the way he had his eyebrows furrowed. 

"How are we supposed to find him? Jay, I'm no sorcerer or a crossroad demon that can summon him up. I could be as equally lost as you are,"

He ran his hands through his hair, heaving a deep and heavy sigh. "I don't know either. I'm fucked, okay? I don't have anyone else to find but you, and there's no one that knows Hoon as much as I do but you,"

"How do I know I can trust you this time?" You mindlessly let the words slip out, referring to the incident that caused the slight crack between you two, its effect remained even after.

"I told you I'm sorry already, Y/N," he said softly, catching on your innuendo at once. 

It was the last time you went on an actual hunt with the Park brothers when it happened. Crazy monsters and demon ladies were nothing too big for you three, but the moment a human was involved, the hunt became vulnerable. 

A part of you wanted to save the innocent man even though he was long gone and already affected by the creature, turning wild gradually. Being the rash and impulsive person Jay was, he demanded to kill the man at once, Sunghoon trying to calm him down while you fought back. 

It was a stupid argument, you were emotional and he was aggressive, Sunghoon trying to be neutral and diffusing the tension, but failed. In the end, a cure was found but Jay had already killed the man. Even though you were able to save the others, a part of you continued to seethe with anger.

'Too emotional' was what Jay called you. Storming away was the only thing you could muster in that moment, and it took a few days before he showed up at your front door apologising with a bouquet of flowers. Were you fully satisfied? Not really. Did things change? Definitely.

As for now, you pondered thoughtfully. Despite your valiant efforts of escaping the supernatural part of your past, you knew it was imminent it would come back, just not like this. Sunghoon was a nice guy, he and his brother helped you and your family before, and some part of you wanted to do the same. You swore you didn't want to hunt with the Park brothers after that incident, and it seemed that you had no choice but to eat your words. You were going to regret your decision, you know so.

"Okay," it came out more of a whisper, which made Jay lean in closer, an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"Okay, fine, I'll go with you to find Sunghoon. Don't make me go back on my word," 

"Right, right," Jay said rather excitedly, his eyes beaming. "Gods, how did I manage to get the Y/N L/N to hunt with me? I am a lucky man,"

"Don't test your luck," you took the iron knife from your bed and pointed it at him, earning a sleazy eye roll from the latter.

"You still have your gears with you?" He glanced around your room, not a single weapon in sight, only messy heaps of clothes.

"Duh," your hand reached for the bottom of your pillow, pulling out another blade, made purely from iron, perfect for killing supernatural beings. "When are we leaving?"

"Best before day break,"

"So … roadtrip?"

"You bet."

Begrudgingly, you shoved some clothes into a small carry on, packing guns, knives, blades, salt. Yes, salt, sodium. It might seem weird but salt literally saves lives, literally. An insignificant kitchen ingredient held a significant role by protecting people from spirits attack. Rock salts were used as ammunition as well to ward spirits off for a short time. Insane, right?

Jay helped you fit your bags into the trunk of his Chevrolet Impala, one that he has been driving almost forever. Among your bags, there were a shit ton of weapons, quite messily scattered around, some stuck on the trunk door. It was certainly a rich collection. 

“Hop in, dollface. Be my guest,”

You rolled your eyes as Jay opened the car door for you. He was still the same old Jay. Promiscuous, teasing, haughty, but you supposed that was the charming point of him. You remembered the insides of the car as clear as day when you got in, almost felt like it was just yesterday when you were in it.

“Where to?” you turned to look over at Jay who had just slammed the car door shut, his hands on the wheel, a cheshire grin pulled at his lips.

“Vegas,” he flashed you a toothy smirk, but you could only mirror his expression with an unamused one. 

“Sin city? You’re kidding. Why on earth are we heading there—God, Jay, don’t tell me you developed some gambling addiction—”

“No! For fuck’s sake,” Jay pulled the car to start, the headlights brightened the dark street at once. Well, goodbye to your home, you hoped you would make it back alive. “It was where Hoonie and I had our last hunt, the place he went missing, and funny thing, the hunt is incomplete,”

“So, you’re telling me you drove all the way to my house from Vegas in the middle of an unfinished hunt just because Sunghoon’s gone,”

“‘Just because’? Y/N, it’s life or death!”

“I’m not saying this isn’t important!” you bite back, sleep deprivation wasn’t helping your increased agitation. “Didn’t this happen before? One of you goes missing and the other solves the case and finds each other? What’s so big this time?”

“This did happen,” Jay sighed, the bags under his eyes obvious despite the darkness surrounding you, the tuned down rock music played faintly on the radio. “I went lost, got captured by some psycho killer, whatever, but it was traceable, it always was, but this time … something’s different and it’s definitely not only a psycho killer, it’s something stronger, darker,” 

“Jolly. A demon,” you wondered aloud, Jay humming in agreement. “Mind telling me what hunt you and Sunghoon were on in Vegas before his disappearance?”

“Saw on the news about deaths in a casino, so Hoon and I decided to check it out, and guess what we found? Sulphur,” demons tend to leave sulphur around, finding sulphur basically indicated a demon’s presence, pretty basic information.

“A demon on massacre duties in a casino? I feel like this one is out for money, something to do with his greed and desire,” you speculated, unsurprised as these were common occurrences.

"Likely," Jay clicked his fingers, his eyebrows bunched together, a scheming look on his face. "Here's the thing, we were somewhat on the road to uncovering some truths, on who the real demon was, but that's when this happened, it's no coincidence that he probably took Hoonie,"

"Which means you still don't know who's the mastermind in that casino right now? Or where Sunghoon could possibly be?"

"No," he answered bitterly, his fingers strumming the steering wheel softly. "And I think the jackass jumps into different bodies working there each time, it's hard to trace,"

"Are we going around splashing holy water? How are we supposed to know whose body is being possessed?"

"We don't," he said plainly, and matter-of-factly, turning his face just enough for you to catch him winking at you. "But we do know he's a higher up, a man with a position, or maybe positions,"

"Guess it's our lucky day testing our fortune on catching demons and winning at casinos,"

"Looks just like the movies," 

Upon entering the state of Nevada at nightfall, you were welcomed with the blistering nightlife of Las Vegas, the bright lights blinding your sights and you couldn't help but be fascinated.

"Where are we heading?"

"Towards the hotel the man was murdered in," Jay nodded at one of the big and tall hotels ahead. "There's a famous casino in that hotel, lots of people constantly betting, rich and powerful men are frequently present,"

"A perfect spot for a money hungry demon,"

"Bingo," 

Jay parked his beloved car and was rather sad leaving it behind in a shabby parking lot. You knew he loved his car, sometimes clingy and attached, but he loved it a little too much. 

Grabbing your bags and a seperate one full of weapons, you and Jay headed into the hotel and towards the reception, where a bright young woman named Carrie was smiling back at you both.

"You're not going to make me spray holy water at her, right?" You said quietly in hopes of the receptionist not hearing it.

"I'm not stopping you," Jay passed you an unamused half grin.

"Hello! How may I assist you?" Carrie greeted enthusiastically, but frankly, none of you could reciprocate the same energy.

"We'd like to book two rooms please," Jay slid the card towards Carrie, hoping to get this over with quickly.

"Just two?" She glanced between you and Jay, a question mark basically floating above her head. "We have a 'couples exclusive' promotion though,"

You and Jay shared a look, turning back to the receptionist. "Two, please,"

"There's free access to the facilities and the buffet," Carrie continued on. "Oh—uhm—there's a jacuzzi here too,"

Jay turned to you, you stared back, a knowing look passed between one another, releasing sighs of displeasure.

"We'll take it,"

It would be an understatement to just say the hotel was fancy, it was more than fancy. High ceilings, marble floors, chandeliers, everything was almost in gold. You were able to catch a slight glimpse of the casino as you passed, and indeed, it was packed with people. Boy, you were about to have a time trying to find out who's the real imposter.

"I definitely spotted some sulphur just now," Jay shook his head, his eyes scanning the floor, walls and surroundings. "I think this one has minions here,"

"Amazing," you clicked your tongue, impatiently stalking through the soundless corridor in search of your designated room. You were dying to dive into your hotel bed. 

"Do you think we have enough?" Jay eyed the bag of weapons as you two stood outside your room, but just before you could answer, a stranger appeared next to you two, holding a keycard to the room next to yours.

"Oh, I'm sure it's enough," the stranger, a middle aged lady, laughed.

You glanced at Jay, a cautionary sign was understood. "W–what do you mean?" Jay chuckled nervously.

"Condoms? That's what you meant, right?" The lady snickered, and you were absolutely dumbfounded. "Just keep it down kids, it's not entirely soundproof here and I need sleep. It's nice meeting you guys!"

The lady slammed the door behind her, leaving you and Jay standing there like statues, a little confusion and surprise in the air. 

"Condoms," you echoed, shuddering slightly.

Jay turned to look at you, a pensive look in his gaze, eyebrows raised slightly. "Do you … unless—?" 

"Zip it," you hoisted the bags, opened the door and stormed in while Jay remained standing there, a defensive look replacing his previous one.

"Hey, I didn't even say it," he shouted from the outside, taking his bags from the floor.

"I know what you're trying to say, thank you! Now get your ass in here before I shut you out,"

"Yes, ma'am," Jay scrambled in and shut the door close, soon noticing your figure looming over the bed and was curious. "What's up?"

"There's only one bed," you glanced down at the king size bed, a heart formed from rose petals decorated it and you found it highly ridiculous. "And they made it romantic, how sweet,"

"You're kidding me," Jay ran his hand across his tired face, a weary sigh leaving his lips. "I'll take the couch,"

You stopped him there. "Dude, you're going to be hunting demons, I'm not letting you get backaches from a lousy couch,"

"There's no way you're sleeping on it either,"

You bit your lips, maybe sleeping on the same bed for a few nights wouldn't hurt, right? It certainly wasn't your first time with Jay anyway, but business was business, and this was far from being professional.

"Let's just share the same bed," 

Jay stared doubtfully at you, as if he couldn't believe those words had come out of your mouth. "You're up for that?"

"Do you think we have any other choices?" You crossed your arms, mirroring his pointed gaze.

"Touche," he nodded thoughtfully, dropping his bags to a corner. "Just don't kick me in my sleep,"

"I'll be happy to kick you now instead."

"Stop staring!"

Despite being tired and worn out, you and Jay dragged yourselves out from the room in hopes of some food and checked out the hotel and casino. 

The inside of the casino was bright and painted in gold, red themed colours. It was extremely busy and crowded, many were yelling in surprise and joy, while there were those in despair over losing. Jay, on the other hand, was too busy staring at by-passing girls to focus on the real purpose.

"What?" He hissed defensively, winking at another server and you rolled your eyes at his never changing behaviour.

"You can enjoy whatever you want after everything, okay? Not to be a killjoy but there's a demon here that took your brother,"

"Hey! I'm aware,"

"Sure," you mumbled sarcastically, looking around the table and observing people's faces, but you knew none of these normal citizens were possessed.

"Do you think we can meet the host or manager tonight?" Jay made sure to whisper that quietly, glancing around warily.

"You think one of them would be possessed?"

"The chances are high. Hoon and I went over to the dead man's house the other day, the wife told us he was close to the host, something by the name Sam? Sam Clerk?"

"Looking for me?"

You've never turned around so quick, your hand instinctively reached into your pocket for the small bottle of holy water, but Jay's hand stopped you discreetly, giving you one of his 'I got this' look.

"You're Sam Clerk?" Jay laughed awkwardly, playing it cool and casual.

The man before you was tall and seemingly in his mid 30s, his smile was wide and welcomingly, but there was a malevolent energy emitted from him. "Why yes, that's me. And you two are …?"

"I'm … Jack Williams," 

Sam glanced at you expectantly, and if you could dig yourself a grave then from the embarrassment, hoy would've. You cleared your throat, "I'm Stacy … Williams, he's my husband,"

You felt Jay's gaze on you, burning into your skin, but you ignored him and looped your arm around his. 

"Oh!" Sam clapped in surprise, a pleasant smile spread across his face. "You two must be new here, right? I've never seen you before,"

"Right, we are," Jay patted your hand, plastering on his most convincing smile. "That was why we wanted to find you! We heard how great of a host you were and wanted an introduction,"

"I'm pleased, but I'm a little busy tonight, so I can't assist you unfortunately," a flash of change in his eyes was barely noticeable, but you caught onto it. "But there's a charity ball we're holding in two days, I would love to invite you both to attend,"

"We'd love to," you said almost immediately.

Sam chuckled, nodding in satisfaction. "Great. I'll see you … then."

Without another word, he left in a dash, moving almost like a shadow. You unknowingly let out a shaky breath, feeling goosebumps rise. "His energy was so off,"

"I know," Jay was thinking hard, his mind working extra hours. "So, it's him … but there's definitely another one which we don't know, there's no way this would be so easy, and we also need to know where Hoon is,"

"I think I have an idea," you held onto his forearm, pulling him on and continued your walk around the casino. "I did some digging on the history behind this hotel and the casino, and it goes way back,"

"How long?"

"Centuries. It was built on a cursed ground, but they didn't care, and guess what? There were deaths here over those years too, unexplained ones. Weird, huh? But that's not the point. There's some hidden underground chamber somewhere here, built by someone from the olden days, and it's said to harbour bad energy,"

"Attracts demons,"

"Perfect hideout,"

"But why Hoon?" Jay scratched his head, eyebrows furrowed and increasingly frustrated.

"I mean, you guys were hunting the demons and they caught on. Plus, timing was bad, you happened to be out,"

"True," Jay sighed. "We should ask that Sam guy more stuff during that charity ball, and we should start doing some digging tomorrow,"

"I'll use my flirting skills and wiggle information off him," you grinned, nudging his side teasingly.

"You should use it on me instead," he grumbled noisily.

"No chance," you smiled sarcastically at him, pulling him towards the bar. "Let's just enjoy tonight and drink a little, I definitely need some before diving into … everything,"

"Get ready to drink until you fall, L/N,"

"Challenge accepted, Park."

The night faded into a blur, you and Jay somehow wandered off without one another, but stayed within the vicinity. You were drinking alone at the bar, the alcohol seemed like water to you, your tolerance coming strong. 

Jay was off at the side, leaning against the wall as he openly flirts with a random blonde girl. Laughing suavely, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his charming looks sweeping the blonde off her feet. 

You shouldn't be feeling this way, but you would be lying if you said you were indifferent to him and the girl. It was no surprise you and him had history, even on the intimate level, but to have feelings for him? That was something new you slowly came about to realise.

Onto your new glass of gin, Jay slid into the empty seat next to you, looking far from drunk. You forgot Jay had an alcohol tolerance that challenged yours, making him an interesting drinking partner to have on most nights. 

"What happened to the girl?" 

"What girl?" He craned his neck to stare off at the distance before turning back to look at you, his face inching closer to yours. "Blondie? Nah," he shook his head, a playful grin appearing on his handsome face. "Can't believe I'm saying this but are you perhaps … jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous," you pushed his face away, eliciting a humorous laugh from him. 

"I think you are," Jay said in a sing-song tone under his breath. "Rest assure, sweetheart, I never fucked anyone else ever since our last night together," he winked, taking his jacket hanging from the chair and offered you his hand, which you grudgingly accepted.

"Are you sure you're not lying to me? Park Jong Seong, the man who hunts demons and loves to fuck around hasn't been bringing girls back?" 

"Don't doubt me or my feelings here," he feigned a crying face dramatically to which you pulled a face at. “You’re seriously underestimating my feelings for you,” he said, a little seriously this time, raising his eyebrows at you before letting your hands go and leading the way back to the room, making sure to turn around to check up on you from time to time. 

You were tired by the time you’ve reached your room, changing out of your outfit into a much more comfortable one while Jay did the same in another room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that you slept next to a man, even if he was one you’ve shared a bed with once.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jay yawned as he got under the sheets, you followed suit, shifting around for a better position. Your’s and Jay’s back faced each other, a distance obvious between you two.

“Night, Jay,” you switched the lights off, the room was dark, but you were wide awake. The unfamiliar bed had you tossing and turning, but also making an effort not to bump into Jay while doing so. 

“We haven’t done this in a while,” Jay suddenly spoke into the darkness after barely ten minutes. 

You bit back a smile, wrapping your hands tighter around yourself. “Yeah, we haven’t,”

"If I have to be honest, I miss it," you couldn't see Jay's face, only picturing it as he continued on. "I miss waking up next to you,"

"Jay …" you trailed off, heart squeezing slightly. "You know we can't,"

"I know," he repeated, a beat passed. "But what if we can?"

"You said it was too dangerous, you didn't want it,"

"I didn't say I didn't want it," he was quick to retaliate. "I want it, you know I do, but this job, this life, your life, I'll be a walking supernatural attractor,"

A short moment of silence filled the space between you and him, you let out a sigh. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to drop it for you, whether it was years ago or now, I don't think my feelings have changed. But that’s for you to accept anyway,"

Jay didn’t say anything more, your tiredness eventually brought you to sleep, unaware that he was still wide awake, turning around to glance at the back of your head, head filled with thoughts of you. Jay knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job, which meant romantic relationships and commitment were two hard things to tackle, even harder than killing supernatural things. But you were different to him. A one night together somehow turned his stone heart soft. The Park Jong Seong was truthfully in love with you. You were the angel to the devil in his heart. What’s stopping him was everything around his life, his cold demeanour, his fears.

The night melted into snores and wild dreams, the sun was soon peeking out of the horizons and sunlight streamed into your room. You were awoken by your alarm blaring by the bedside, slamming it off and trying stretching your limbs, but as you said, you tried.

Jay's arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, his body pressed against your side as its weight leaned against yours. You haven't been this intimate with him for months, and it certainly sparked something in you.

"God, Jay, wake up," you tapped his arm, trying to yank it off you, but he only retaliated by hugging your body tighter and tugging you closer to him.

"5 minutes," was all he could mumble before continuing his snores.

You scoffed, giving in with no choice. Since Jay indirectly wanted a lazy morning in, you decided it was best to call room service instead. 

"Good morning, can I order some room service?" It was an awkward position with the phone against your ear, menu in your hands and a grown man's arm draped across your abdomen.

The women on the other line coughed uncomfortably. "Good morning, miss, but room service is currently unavailable. Something happened overnight …" she drifted off and your face scrunched into an expression of confusion.

"What … happened?"

"I don't know if I should be saying this—"

"I won't complain, I swear, I just want to know," you tried to be as convincing as you could, and somehow the women complied.

"A murder happened, in the casino, again," she breathed out, a pinch of disbelief in her tone. "I think it's cursed,"

Oh, you don't say.

"Is there anyone who's hurt?"

"Other than the murdered rich tycoon, no,"

Rich tycoon, as expected.

"Got it. Be safe,"

"You too."

You placed down the phone, shaking the man beside you who only let out gruff huffs of annoyance. "Hm?" 

"Don't 'hm' me, get your ass up. We've got trouble."

Dragging a five foot ten grown man out of the bed was definitely a struggle, but in the end, it worked. After spilling the information you got earlier, he seemed content with just a cup of coffee and stormed towards the crime scene at once.

As expected, the police had surrounded the area and curious bystanders were peeking in from left and right. You and Jay slipped into the crowd, making sure to scan the area as much as you could, and as expected, traces of sulphur. 

"Another one bites the dust, huh?" Jay hummed as you two roamed around the hotel aimlessly, unable to do much more but laying low since police officers were still around.

"Have you ever thought about there being more than one demon here?"

"Yeah, that guy we met with his demon minions, duh—"

"Forget about the minions, let's think about the powerful ones," you bite your lips thoughtfully. "Remember this hotel being built centuries ago?"

"Yeah?"

"Two brothers owned it. One was the head of everything while the other managed the casino mostly," you said, glancing around. "Ring a bell? I'm pretty sure the guy's just a vessel, they were the ones working here before they got possessed, the demon's in those bodies,"

"You're a genius," Jay gasped, coming to realisation as he pieced it one by one.

"Now, I think I also got a faint idea of the secret dungeon. Their office,"

"Any history lesson?"

"No, just a blind guess, but my sixth sense told me so and you know how trustable my sixth sense is,"

"It sure is," Jay nodded in agreement, proven by your skills in previous hunts. "Should we break into it?"

"Are you crazy? You're walking into hell," you knew it was no secret how impulsive he was, which explained why you were there in the first place. "I reckon we strike during the charity ball,"

"But how are we going to identify the other brother first?"

"Oh, speaking of the devil," you nodded over at the crime scene that was now a distance away. Two men appeared, one was Sam, and the other was someone you've never seen before, but strangely held a resemblance to Sam.

They possessed brothers? You're joking.

"That must be the man of the hour," Jay whistled, eyeing the two men conversing with the officers. The man was taller than Sam, older looking and had a similar friendly face to him that also seemed intimidating.

"They're leaving," the two brothers bid farewell to the officers, watching them leave before turning around and walking away themselves. Jay and his impulsiveness just had to strike again. "Let's follow them,"

"Huh?"

Before you fully register Jay's words, that fucker pulled you by the wrist and started sprinting off into the direction the demon brothers were heading. If you could sock Jay in the jaw at that moment, you would've.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" You hissed quiet enough to not blow your cover, following the brothers a short distance away as they headed towards their office.

"Trying not to, but shush, we need to hear what they're saying,"

The brother stopped just before the door to their office, you and Jay followed suit, your body almost crashing into him from the abrupt halt. Jay dragged you into a dingy closet packed with cleaning supplies, great, and there was barely any room to move, let alone take a step back, and thus you found yourself in a compromising position.

Jay glanced down at you, a smirk etched on his face. "Not our first time, huh—"

"One word and you're not making it out alive, now hush and listen," you glared at him, effectively shutting him up but failed at wiping off his smug smile.

From the other side of the door, you heard shuffling and the voice of Sam Clerck. "But John—"

Jay's eyes widened, and you knew what he meant, there was a name. 

"—the amount of killing is making this whole thing suspicious to the mortals,"

"It's annoying that you're calling me 'John'," the latter spat. 

"It's not my fault that's the name of the original bodies. Fine, Elijah, don't you think we should rest on the killings for the moment,"

"What? Elliot, here's no way we're doing that, look at the fortune we're making,"

"Mind you, we have a possible hunter captured in the office's dungeon, what are we doing with him? Oh, there's probably other hunters coming as well now that they've slowly caught onto us,"

"Brother, stop overthinking and fretting," Elijah, the presumed older brother, sighed. "We could use him as a sacrifice—"

You clamped a hand over Jay's mouth, knowing him too well that he would let out noises and maybe burst out the door, but there was no way you're letting him do either of those.

"Or just kill him. We've been treating him well with food, excluding the fact that there's no sunlight," 

"We'll see how it goes, underground or not, another killing is too risky," 

"Whatever,"

You heard the door click shut, the two brothers already entered their office. Jay licked your hand and you reacted at once, shooting him a disgusted expression and opening the door, a gush of fresh air filled your lungs and you're no longer pressed against Jay, hooray!

"You heard that? They're going to serve my brother up on a platter or just directly cook him into a meat skewer,"

You pushed Jay to move along, avoiding the risk of getting caught. "We know he's in the office now, and there's definitely a way to get him out, can you try being hopeful for once?"

"It's Hoon we're talking about, so no,"

"Look, Elijah and Elliot, they're the Vamson brothers,"

"Who?"

"They're the original owners of this hotel and they got executed from murder cases. Explains why they knew the dungeon and all,"

"What do we do now?"

"Not 'now', tomorrow," you grinned, a plan brewing in mind. "We're splitting them up,"

The day consisted of you and Jay running around as inconspicuous as you could manage. The plan was slowly forming over a glass of whiskey. Jay would be onto distracting 'Sam' while you get closer to 'John', getting him to bring you back to his office and free Sunghoon by locating the dungeon.

"Must you really flirt with him?" Jay grumbled as he sipped on his glass.

"Is it your turn to be jealous now?"

"Yeah," Jay nodded straightforwardly, catching you a little off guard. "Pains me seeing you flirt with someone other than me,"

You rolled your eyes, playing it off nonchalant and casual, but internally? Your heart was doing backflips. "It's not actual flirting anyway, you dramatic ass,"

He let out a small, humorous laugh. "I know," he hummed. "But I just don't like seeing others with my girl,"

"I don't belong to you, Jay," you raised your eyebrows, playing around with your glass, heartbeat gradually increasing.

"You've been mine since the day you let me touch you," he said almost so nonchalantly that it gave you a whiplash. His words were unexpected, and it certainly stirred something in you. 

"You're insane," you scoffed, completely hiding the fact that you were secretly blushing.

He simply shrugged. "Anyway, I'd like to catch some air outside, you coming?"

"Will you be smoking?"

"I quit that shit a while ago,"

You smiled at that. "Good. But nah, you can go on without me, but come back once you're done, I don't feel safe,"

"Obviously, I'm not leaving you alone," Jay carrassed your arm slightly, a small reassuring look present in his gaze. 

"Got your gun? Knife? Weapons—?"

"Chill, Y/N, I'm only going out for a while,"

"Knowing you, you're going to get into trouble,"

Jay winked, his usual playful grin on display. "You bet,"

To prove you absolutely right, he did.

Upon returning, you felt an odd shift in Jay's energy. As much as you were in denial, you knew your sixth sense was always, forever right, gut feelings never lie.

He started off normal, but then he got all … how could you put it? Sexy? Seducing? Sensual? Definitely not Park Jong Seong's normal way of seducing someone, knowing it very well especially since you were a victim to his seductions.

You played along, pretending stupid, and it gave you enough time to deduce that he was possessed. Demons that stormed the hotel got to him in the end and you had to be the one to clean the mess up? Unbelievable. 

Now, here you were, in his lap back in your hotel room, making out. You heard that right. 

His hands tugged your hair, yours wandered his body, lips moving passionately against one another, you had to remind yourself that this WASN'T him! 

You broke the kiss, heaving slightly as you reached for the small flask on your bedside table, a plan already in your mind. "Gosh, let me take a sip, want some?"

Jay—or demon Jay—nodded at the flask in your hand with some interest. "What's in there?"

"Whiskey, your favourite," you lied cunningly through your teeth.

"I'll have some," 

You passed it to Jay, watching his every move, from him taking the flask, holding it up to his lips, to downing the contents into his mouth, then a loud scream broke out from him.

"Holy water," you clicked your tongue. "And you're so not Jay," 

You threw yourself away from him, backing away from the bed. Jay turned to you sharply, piercingly glaring at you, his eyes turned fully black, leaving no whites. Oh yeah, hundred percent possessed. 

He tried charging at you, but he then hit an invisible barrier. No matter how much he lunged and punched, he was stuck, and never escaping.

"Devil's trap, whoops," it was a precaution you took, drawing a sigil trap under the bed that was designed specially to trap demons, and there was no way out unless the circle was broken. It was great luck you got the demon twisted around your finger to have him follow you into bed. "Now, what's your business? Why are you possessing him?"

"You don't want to continue doing what you're doing here," he seethed out.

"I've got someone to save,"

He cackled with a look of disdain. "You humans are so weak minded and hero wannabes. How about you save yourself and forget about the guy? You don't know who you're dealing with or what you're even doing,"

"Oh, I don't?" You pulled the bedside table's drawer open, your trusty notebook was tucked inside and you snatched it out, showing it gloriously. "Look at this!"

"A stupid little notebook? You're not scaring me,"

"Are you sure? What if I told you there were some verses in here? You know, those types of verses, the ones that can make you go away. What if I start reciting some verses?" You taunted, your innocent smile riled him further.

"Come on then," he poked, challenging you. 

"Seriously? I'm giving you choices and time before I send you back to hell. I'm really kind,"

Jay gulped, despite all that, he remained a confident front and a cocky look. "Your stupid chantings won't work on me,"

"A low level demon like you telling me what I know and don't know? Please, save some talk and let me show you what I'm best at," you flipped open your notebook, following the usual ritual and started the latin incantations.

Jay stirred, yelling out and his body shuddered. As your chantings got louder and more aggressive, the demon from within seemed to be fighting to escape. Finally, with one last verse, Jay's mouth opened and a flight of black smoke escaped from within and dissolved back to, hopefully, hell.

"Fuck," you ran towards the bed as you saw his body going limp, getting there just in time for his body to fall into your arms heavily. "I got you, Jay, you're okay,"

"Huh?" His eyes were half opened, looking worse than a drunk. 

"Get some rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow. You need it."

"I got possessed, then we made out, and you exorcised me?"

"That was about it,"

It was the next morning, room service thankfully available now and you were having breakfast in bed with Jay as you poured over the happenings of the crazy night. Of course, Jay was having difficulties swallowing his food as he had zero recollections whatsoever, blacking out the moment the demon entered his body. 

"So … we made out?"

"Seriously? Is that the important part to you?"

"We never did for months and the demon got to do it with you? This is trippy and I'm salty," he huffed, chewing on his sunny side egg sadly. "Anyway, did the demon say anything?"

"Right, he did. Something about how we shouldn't be doing what we're doing now, like a warning I think,"

"Eh, typical demon bullshit, they always get into your minds and spit some mind boggling ass words to get you all worked up. It's nothing,"

You were unconvinced, crossing your arms nervously. "You don't actually think there's something wrong, right? Something bigger than we think?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he shrugged, uncertainty lingered in his words. "Either way, we have bigger problems. Tonight, the charity ball, saving Hoonie,"

"You're right."

Running around the streets looking for some gown to buy was harder than expected. Buying it rather than renting was a stupid choice, a dumb and expensive one. But what could you do? You're probably going to rip it up anyway. Not in that manner.

The day was soon coming to an end. Earlier on, the two of you made sure to have your bags packed and ready, dumping them into the car in advance. God knows what's happening after the event, all you knew was that you're probably not stepping foot back into the hotel room again.

"Are you done?" Jay shouted from the other room as you finished some final touch ups.

"Can you wait for a second? Jeez!"

You burst open the door, meeting Jay's gaze at once. He was dressed handsomely in a suit, a plain black suit that hugged his muscles and body in a perfect way as if it was tailored for him.

As for you, you were in a simple floor length black gown, one with two surprises: an open back and a thigh slit. You weren't a big fan but it is what it is. It was likely made out of some cheap silk and half assed production, but this happened to be your only option. 

"Fucking hell," he whistled under his breath, his eyes swept your figure from top to bottom and back to the top again to lock his gaze with yours. "Wow. You look amazing, more than amazing actually,"

He took a step, and another, until he was directly in front of you, face to face. "Is it okay if I touch you?" He whispered under his breath, something flashing in those brown irises. 

"Yeah,"

His hand slithered around your waist, tugging you forward into his chest, eyes widened as it caught you by surprise. Being this close to him had you thinking of yesterday. Despite the fact that he was possessed, it was physically still him, meaning you did kiss him, and God, he missed him and his lips.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Yesterday,"

"That demon got you hooked?"

"You're annoying. I mean, kissing you," you faltered towards the end, gradually getting flustered. 

"Would you like to recreate that?" Jay jokingly leaned in and you pushed his face away, laughing slightly.

"We don't have the time to, idiot,"

Jay shook his head, a small smile adorned his pretty features. "After all this … maybe we should talk it out. About us. Just you and I,"

"Definitely," you nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "We should leave too, it's time," 

"You're right," he sighed, obvious disappointment in his voice as he glanced down at his wristwatch. "Let's go," he slowly let his hold of you go, but his hand remained around your waist as you two walked side by side.

That cheeky bastard's hands gradually travelled lower and lower as you walked, teasing you until it reached your lower back. Your head snapped over to give him a questioning glance, to which he reciprocated with a shrug.

"Hands up—" you moved his hands from your lower back back to your waist, eyes glaring at him, "—here,"

"You weren't complaining the last time we fucked,"

"Over a year back,"

"What do you say we relive that tonight, huh?"

"You're such a sleazebag. Oh, manwhore, and what else?"

"Dickhead, handsome jerk," 

"Okay, whatever you say, dickhead handsome jerk," you snickered sarcastically before dragging him towards the main area, making sure to not trip over your gown. 

The hotel was bustling with guests from all over the world, being the busiest it has been as staff ran around frantically. The night has yet to begin and people were already gambling their minds off while drinking expensive champagne served by frantic servers. 

You looked around, noticing Sam, or Elliot in actuality, conversing with someone, his brother was nowhere in sight … yet. 

"Distract him, okay?" You whispered hastily into Jay's ears as you saw the man waving over at you two, possibly coming over once he's done with the guy he's talking to. "I'll try to be within hindsight, but listen to me, if I'm not back by the two hour mark, you come to the office and find me. You have the gun, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Good. I'm going to try and get Sunghoon out, but I've only got so much,"

"I'll be there, okay? I won't leave you,"

You nodded at his words, feeling his hand squeeze your arm tightly. The anxiety was pushing past its limits and you were praying everything to run your way. The moment Sam moved over to you and Jay, you exchanged friendly greetings and pretended to be interested in whatever he's trying to yap about. As he did so, Jay slowly whisked him away, luring him for a talk over some drinks. One thing Jay's excellent at was talking, and you sure hoped his charms were enough to keep the little brother at bay.

After some more digging, you found out John, aka Elijah, mostly hung around the bar area and observed his customers. Interesting man. Lo and behold, the theories were right and he was actually there, all alone, an easy target.

"Not here to gamble?" You slid by his side casually, sitting in an empty seat just a fraction of a distance in between.

"I like to sit and observe a little," he hummed, taking a sip out of his glass. "And you are?"

"Stacy Williams,"

"I'm John Clerk,"

Ironic that you two were actually lying about yourselves to each other. 

"Owner of this place I believe?"

"It's true," he raised his glass up, quirking his eyebrows.

"Beautiful casino and hotel, by the way," you said sweetly, putting on your most convincing smile.

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly. Not much of a conversationalist, huh? Maybe this was your time to strike. 

"Mr Clerk, I'm sorry but is there any way I can get a short rest around here? I'm feeling a little light headed and I just wish to lie down for a while,"

The man before you remained stoic, but you could tell he was internally scrambling for ideas in his mind, and you certainly didn't miss the way he gulped. To add extra pressure onto him, you started staring at him expectantly.

"Well—uhm—there's a sofa in my office," he suggested, though reluctantly.

"That'll be great if you don't mind, I'm sorry for the trouble,"

"No worries, Miss Williams," he assured. "I'll lead you there," he got off his seat and slowly took the lead, you following behind. As you gradually made your out of the vicinity, you spotted Jay, giving him a small nod before disappearing from his sight entirely.

He took the same path you and Jay had done during the time you two snuck around the demon brothers office, except this time, you would be entering into the office.

"Here you go, the sofa's all yours," he opened the door for you, leading you into his large office and pointed at the black coloured sofa in the corner. For a murderous, plotting demon, you didn't expect him or his interior to be so simple and minimal. "Would you like anything else?"

"A drink, maybe water or something refreshing will do,"

He nodded before closing the door shut, and you could tell he was worried about leaving you alone. Not because it's dangerous for you to be by yourself, but instead, he's paranoid about his typical demon doings and that dungeon.

Speaking of the dungeon, you had no idea where it was. Upon arriving, you checked for surveillance cameras, there were none thankfully, as for the dungeon you noticed nothing, even after squinting and looking around the room for some dodgy button. What a cunning demon! Time was ticking and you were racing against time.

"Wait…" you read about some theories about the whereabouts of the entrance to the dungeon, so now, you finally had the chance to test it out.

Locking the door and making up a quick lie was easy. But searching for some clues around the room wasn't. It got to a frustrating point of testing out the stupid theories where you ended up failing. There was one more for the test: the bookshelves.

Stories mentioned John being a complete book nerd, his belongings would be chucked in between books and somewhere behind the shelves, it would totally make sense the bookshelves in his office to have some hidden functions. You tried pushing it, punching it, but it wouldn't budge.

Sighing in almost defeat, you found yourself eyeing the books instead, judging the titles and spotting an odd one, reaching out for a grab. That was when everything changed. A small pull had triggered the book shelf to raise itself off of the ground and into the wall, revealing stairs going underground. Bingo.

You defied the laws of horror movies by going down the dark stairway, quietly calling out for any signs of life. Once you descended the remaining steps, you were met with dimly lit torches, chains hanging on the wall. This did look very anciently built, replicating those tacky dungeons in movies.

It was a large underground cave, so it wasn't hard to spot Sunghoon sitting in one corner, his hand chained to the wall and he himself had dozed off. 

You made your way there, your heels clicking against the hard floor but Sunghoon never woke from it. You kneeled beside him, noticing the fatigue in his expressions, looking overly worn out, attire soiled and seemingly hurt.

"Sunghoon!" You hissed, shaking him awake. There's no way you're attempting to carry him out while he's unconscious.

"Huh—what—who—" he slowly blinked, startled at the unfamiliar voice. His gaze was on you, his eyes blinking rapidly to rid of the haziness, then he finally registered that it was you talking. "Wait—Y/N?"

"You got that right. Is there a key around here?" 

"What are you doing here?"

"We have no time for that! Is there a key or not?" You hissed, trying to strain your ears in order to determine if he's returned or not. Hopefully the guests were keeping him busy in the meantime.

"There is, it's somewhere in the small cupboard there," he nodded over at said cupboard that you hadn't noticed. 

Say less, you practically jumped to your feet and bolted over to the small cupboard, pulled it open and the key was there. Tada! It was foolish that it was out in the open like that, but considering the fact they probably didn't expect anyone else to come down here, it was pretty valid.

Being the more thorough person you were, you checked the remaining drawers in case of any dangerous objects. Instead, you found some weapons here and there, so you tossed some over to Sunghoon before unlocking his chain. He winced the moment his wrist found freedom, rubbing it sorely. But there's not enough time, you need him out.

"Park, listen close to me," you tucked some of the knives into the garter belt around your thigh, handing Sunghoon one of the guns found in the drawer. "Your brother is here—"

"Jay?"

"Yes, now hush and actually listen, alright? The demon that captured you is coming back soon, and you're escaping before he does,"

"What about you?"

"I'll hold out as long as I can. Once you find Jay, tell him to come 'fetch' me or whatever excuse he could form. If shit goes sour, I don't think I can handle him alone,"

Sunghoon nodded as he took your words in carefully. There was limited time left, you needed to get out of the dungeon and shut it. 

You helped Sunghoon up and had him lean his weight into you as you guided him up the stairs. To say you were struggling and having breathing difficulties was an understatement. He better treat you to some good food for saving his ass after this.

He fell onto the sofa you were resting on earlier as you scrambled to shut the entrance by pushing the book back in. The entrance to the dungeon closed to a shut, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Now that you got Sunghoon out, there's bigger problems to face. 

"Are you able to walk?"

Sunghoon grunted, stretching and massaging his legs. "I can … I think,"

"You think?" His words weren't completely reassuring. 

"I'll manage," he gritted out, but his gaze softened. "I'm only worried about you,"

"You don't think I can handle him?"

"No, not that. You're an amazing hunter, of course, but this guy—demon—he's not some low ranking one. Not some simple exorcism can cast him back to hell,"

"I know, that's why Jay's got the gun,"

"He brought the colt along?"

The colt wasn't just a normal revolver, it was the supernatural revolver. Built to kill everything and anything. No supernatural beings were able to escape the wrath of the bullet. Who else better to use it on than some powerful demons?

"He's crazy," Sunghoon breathed out after you nodded as a response to his question. 

"He's just being careful. Plus, we do need it now anyway,"  

Sunghoon blinked, leaning back a little with an odd expression, his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh wow, did you guys…?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you have this look and I figured something … sparked between you and him again,"

You pressed your lips into a flat line, blinking wordlessly at him. Even he could tell you and Jay were having something?

"Let's talk about this later," you patted his shoulder, nodding towards the door. "You should definitely leave now,"

Knock knock.

"Miss Williams? Are you alright? Why is the door locked?"

You met Sunghoon's gaze, and the one thing you've managed to understand in his stare was 'we're fucked'. 

"I'm—I'm not doing well," 

"What's happened? Let me in,"

"No!" You bursted out, which sounded worse than expected. "I mean, no, I got m–my period, and I'm embarrassed to come out,"

"Oh," the man on the other side of the door seemed shocked to say the least. "I'll go get you some pads, Miss Williams,"

"Thank you,"

Pressing your ears onto the door, you heard his footsteps getting further away, finally able to let out the breath you've been holding in for too long. You turned to Sunghoon, grabbing his arm.

"You know, for a demon, he's actually quite a gentleman,"

"Keeping me in his stupid dusty dungeon surely isn't a gentleman's move," he said bitterly as he got up, limping slightly. "You'll be okay, right?"

"No promises,"

"I'll be quick, I'm going to get Jay here. You saved my ass, I'm making sure I save yours," he placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

"I trust you," you patted his hand. "Now, go,"

Sunghoon nodded, though quite reluctantly leaving as he didn't wish to have you all alone in a demon's threshold. You exchanged a brief look with him before he slipped out of the door completely, and you prayed he made it out successfully without any complications in between.

Minutes later, you heard knocks on the door once again, which meant John was back. Bracing yourself, you turned the door open, revealing him and some pads in his hands. "Here,"

"Thanks, I'll—uh—go to the restroom,"

"You're not actually on your period, are you?" His words cut like knives, sharp and certain.

"Are you doubting my knowledge of my own body?" 

"No, I'm not," he said flatly, shutting the door behind him and stepping closer. "One thing I know for sure is that you're not welcomed here … hunter," in one blink, his eyes turned black entirely, just like the time Jay was possessed.

"I'm only here for a shortstop, nothing else … Elijah," you kept your cool on the outside, but internally? You were fighting the horrors. He seemed surprised that you mentioned his actual name, but that didn't bother him.

"Oh yeah? Tell your buddies to stop coming after me,"

"How about you stop killing people?" 

Your retaliation didn't help your case as it only agitated him. With a  swift move of a hand, he had you pushed to the bookshelves, pinning you on there with an invisible force. No matter how you tried resisting it, you couldn't break free from the forceful hold.

"You won't understand. You humans don't," he seethed out, getting closer and closer. "You would be a great sacrifice as well,"

"Fuck you,"

Wrong choices of words. A force was wrapped around your throat and in the next second, it was constricting. Dying from getting choked by a demon wasn't on your list of dumb ways to die.

You swore you were seeing the lights of the afterlife until something intervened. Gunshots sounded suddenly, loud and clear and almost everywhere, a mix of shouts rang through. Chaos was happening. 

John, or Elijah, heard the commotion outside and was taken off guard from it, his hold loosening and you were able to breathe just a little bit more. His head turned back to you, then to the door, seemingly conflicted at the two troubles on hand. 

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "For fuck's sake," he released his hold on you, resulting in you dropping to the ground in coughing fits. You take it back about him being a gentleman. "You're so dead when I come back,"

You could only glare at him and his figure as he exited through the door, but then you heard the sound of a click. No, no, no. You rushed to the door, trying to yank it open, but to your worst fears, he actually locked the door.

Jay was coming to find you, right? Doubts continuously fill your mind against your will. It pained you knowing you're stuck here all helpless, unaware whether Jay and Sunghoon were doing well or not. You could only hope for the best and not the worst.

What seemed like forever was you being trapped in this office. The books on the shelves didn't entertain you, the pictures of the actual Sam only made you sad knowing his body was being possessed by a demon. All in all, you were rotting in here. 

That was until you heard grunts and some gunshots not far away, heavy footsteps thudding down the corridor. Shouts rang through the empty and quiet surroundings, your heart thrashing wildly against your chest in anxiety. There was no mistake in what you heard next. It was your name, your name was yelled.

"Y/N!" Jay's voice was hoarse as he called for you over and over. 

"Jay?" You pounded on the door, shaking the doorknob that wouldn't budge. 

The footsteps got closer and his voice got nearer until he was eventually standing directly on the other side of the door. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"I am," you nearly sobbed, wanting to break free and escape the office. "Jay, the door's locked,"

"You've got to be kidding me. I killed that fucker and never asked for the keys," Jay pounded at the door in irritation. "Y/N, step away, I'm going to break this fucking door down," 

You got away from the door, backing away to your previous spot at the bookshelves and crouching down. After a split second, you heard a gunshot, the doorknob rattled and loosened, but that didn't take the cake. Jay grunted, having to go for busting down the door instead.

A few kicks to the door had loosened the handles, you could hear Jay putting his whole effort into busting down the door with his kicks and the way he threw his body to the door. It was almost a while before he finally knocked the door down completely, revealing a overly worn out Jay. 

He was injured, cuts on his face, arm bleeding and his fancy suit torn at some places. Despite all that, his eyes lit up the moment they landed on your figure crouched by the bookshelves. He rushed over with speed that resembled the Flash, immediately dropping down to his knees to match your position.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt right?" His hands were on your shoulder, turning you slightly to check for any visible changes. 

You didn't say anything yet, just feeling glad that he's here now, safe and sound. Almost instinctively, your arms reached out and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"I got you, I'm here now, nothing's going to hurt you," Jay caressed the back of your head, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. 

"I'm glad you're fine too," you slowly pulled away after a few moments, your hands cupping his cheek. "You do look really busted though,"

He scoffed, lips gradually stretched into a grin. "You'll be the one patching me up later,"

"What happened out there?"

"I killed them," he said hoarsely, his touch never leaving yours. "Little brother Elliot attacked me first after he revealed himself, then everyone ran away. I took my chance and blasted him. Sunghoon showed up not long after and that's when Elijah appeared. We managed to kill him, sent their souls back to hell,"

"That's great," 

"Did he … do anything out of line?"

"Other than choking me and saying he'll kill me? Not really," 

"He's a fucking bastard," Jay cursed, wincing slightly from the cut on his lips.

"Should we leave? The police is arriving soon, no?" You slowly got up, supporting Jay as well.

"We really should. I don't need the police on my ass again,"

"Hey guys—" Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, sweating and heaving, but once he saw the two of you together, hands around each other, his face morphed into a teasing smirk. "Am I interupting?"

You and Jay simultaneously let out a cough, facing away from one another.

"Are the polices on their way?"

"They are," Sunghoon replied hastily, ushering you two to come forward and leave the office. "I've cleaned our traces as much as I could. Now, we should just leave while people are hiding,"

"Did the bodies make it? The original Sam and John," you asked.

"No," the Park brothers answered in unison, and the three of you continued your way to the carpark in silence. It was saddening to hear that the bodies of Sam and John didn't make it, the dull atmosphere ended up befalling between you all.

"So," Jay started once you were all in the car, revving his car to a start. "Want some celebratory burgers along the way?"

"Say less."

"Ouch,"

After a long gruelling trip back to your house, Sunghoon ended up passing out in the guest room's bed, leaving you and Jay alone in the middle of your living room, where you were cleaning his injury wounds.

"I'm trying to be as gentle as I can," Your eyes flickered, wrapping his arm up and cleaning some tiny wounds. "Are you leaving after this? Go on your journey wherever supernatural cases appear like always?"

"I am," Jay said, and somewhere internally, you felt your soul crush. "But I'm staying a little longer here," 

"What?" Your mouth almost fell to the ground from the shock, unintentionally applying more pressure to the wound which made Jay wince, and you uttered a small apology, an unknowing smile forming on your lips. "You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You know how I said I wanted to have a talk after we got back, so here we are. I know our job is … complicated, but my feelings for you never changed over the years. It just took me a shit long time to come to my senses," Jay took a breath in. 

"I know I've hurt you before, and I'm going to have to gain your trust back first. But I hope you'll give me a chance, and let me bring you out on a date or two over these few days,"

"You're giving 'us' a shot?"

"I am,"

You were giddy to say the least, resisting the urge to break into the biggest, lovesick smile. "I'd really love to go out on that date with you,"

"Really?" Jay seemed like he couldn't believe you actually would agree, the evident shock in his face made you laugh.

"Yes, really, you idiot. Are you going to kiss me or something now?"

"I definitely am,"

Jay's calloused fingers wrapped around your chin softly, pulling you in and crashed his lips against yours. It wasn't your first time kissing him, but this was different. Desperation, endless pining that was bottled over the years finally burst and welled over, his lips moved against yours with so much fever and intensity, it had you going insane.

Jay pulled you into his lap, your arms falling over his shoulders for support while his hand travelled from your neck to your cheek before making its way into your hair. You could feel him smirking against your lips, his other hand moving down to your waist to tug you closer to his chest, having you totally pressed up against him.

"J–Jay," before he could take it to another level, you registered that it was your living room, and Sunghoon was in the house as well, which meant the possibility of him walking in was there. "Should we move it into … the room instead?"

Jay knew what you meant, his gaze changing almost instantly, something told you that you were in for it tonight. "Oh you're nasty," he suddenly carried you in bridal style, making you yelp out in surprise and scrambling for support.

The night was going to be long, but it didn't matter anymore now that you've got to have him for a few days and nights all to yourself. Killing supernatural beings was a headache, an ill fated string tied to you, but in the end, you couldn't deny it had brought you and Jay together again. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise after all.

taglist: @aerxz @asyleums @dimplewonie @yizhoutv

[master-of-47-dudes]

You know I have one more thought about the submarine situation now that it's official that the billionaires inside have almost certainly died horribly in one way or another.

And that's like.

I know it's easy to compare the OceanGate situation to the Titanic as "example of man's hubris being checked by the realities of nature" but if you think about it for a second or know much about the Titanic, they're genuinely not comparable at all.

See, sure. The Titanic was declared "unsinkable". This was because the Titanic was an actual marvel of engineering- the biggest fuck up on the part of the builders was being SO confident in their genuinely innovative and extremely well-designed vessel that they didn't include more life boats.

What SANK the Titanic, was a series of small and big mistakes on the part of the crew. Stuff like replacing the lookout last minute so that the guy being left in England was the one holding the key to the box with the only pair of binoculars on board. Trying to avoid the iceberg last minute instead of hitting it dead on, thus damaging the ship in a manner that bypassed the in-built safeties.

Genuinely, had any one of the series of mistakes that led to the Titanic sinking just, not happened? The boat would likely have lived out its expected service life.

The OceanGate fiasco, now? This was a jury rigged piece of crap with cut corners out the wazoo made buy a guy who thought safety features like "a hull pressure tested and graded to reliably survive the depths it's intended to reach" or "a locator beacon in case the sub gets lost, a problem which has happened before", or "controlling the submarine with an interface that is not notoriously shoddy and prone to poor performance" were unnecessary precautions for wimpy nerds.

A disaster was more or less guaranteed from the getgo! There was no reality where this didn't become a fiasco and a disaster. I mean, yeah there's one where the people running OceanGate were actually responsible and cautious instead of cost-cutting capitalists, but from the moment that sub hit the water there wasn't really any decision that could have saved them outside of getting cold feet and immediately returning to the boat they launched from.

Like, sure, there's hubris in both situations! But one was an avoidable tragedy where the hubris was justified and largely unrelated to the actual disaster that happened, and the other was an inevitability that occurred because an overconfident idiot decided that physics and the reality of what he was trying to do would make an exception for his company because he's a special boy that the universe exists to serve.

It's hilarious how fucking far apart the realities of the situations were.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 12/8

@williamjakespeare asked: One of the recent posts concludes that the circumstances around Vriska's god tiering were "so much worse than anything I thought was going to happen" and I'm curious. What exactly did you think was going to happen?

Back before I knew how God Tier ascension worked, my theory was that Vriska's Quest Bed might grant her access to a special dream moon, and that Tavros's presence there might throw some sort of spanner into the works. I wasn't sure what kind of spanner, and my theories were very vague.

Vriska's a huge taskmaster, and I thought she might have given him an instruction that he was unwilling or unable to carry out. Like, maybe she told him to leave her God Tier Moon, and he was unwilling to abandon her to a fate he didn't understand.

I guess I was right. In the end, she did give him an instruction he couldn't carry out.

Anonymous asked: For the kid who was the most vocal about her 'distaste' for their guardian, having Mom be the reason that Rose snaps is actually very sweet, in a sad way. ~DJ

The above line from Rose implies that she had a lot more affection for her mother than she was letting on.

Their relationship was complicated, but if Rose viewed her as a sister, I think there had to have been some camaraderie between the two. We just never saw it on-panel, because the narrative began on the most stressful day of Mom Lalonde's life.

@elkian asked: So, fun fact about that time John joked about rescuing Rose from the Broodfesther Throes and you were going "yes it's a joke BUT IT'S ALSO SERIOUS JOHN!!!": Hussie's author note for that page is almost verbatim your reaction. Homestuck is as serious as it is silly and typically both at once.

Every time Hussie and I share the same thought, a subtle chill runs down my spine.

@gl1tchypyr0 asked: In regards to the thing about LOWAA potentially corrupting Eridan, itd be a little smart to remember what Sollux said in his conversation with Terezi about a prophet has to go blind to earn their stripes or how an angel earns its wings, Sollux states that 'angels are terrible feathery demons that paradox space uses to usher in the end' and Eridan was actually killing them even if he wasn't Supposed to. If you really think about it I actually kinda find it sad? If he was already a troubled individual Before Sgrub and then was on a planet of 'terrible feathery demons' that whisper prophecies in his earfins for an entire month that he was made to feel he Had to kill, honestly it makes me nervous imagining just how many doomed timelines there are where Eridan snapped far earlier. Not to mention the fact he's also on the Blue Team ie Derse players ie most susceptible to waking up in his sleep and seeing tentacles and eyeballs staring back at him (not that he wouldn't be /used to that/ back on alternia with his job of feeding glybgolyb so Feferi wouldn't have to). Not really defending eridan but just, food for thought kinda? About how LOWAA might have affected him enough for Doc Scratch to bring up such a hypothetical. The idea that Eridan was already pretty bad before the inevitable Sgrub trauma and then LOWAA made thinks /worse/.

Oh, don't get it twisted - Eridan's just as much of tragedy as any of the other trolls. He's certainly written to be less sympathetic, but he didn't deserve to be raised in the Alternian Empire. Just like Vriska and Equius, he could have been a much better person, if only he was raised in a less violent and oppressive culture.

Of course, he could still be an asshole if he was born on Earth - but at least he'd have a chance to be better. Alternia stacks the deck against you in ways that simply aren't fair.

@galaxa-13 asked: It is very satisfying watching you pick apart everything Doc Scratch says without playing his game. Rose wishes she could, but unfortunately she is a child and not as smart as she pretends to be. Usually it's fun to watch people theorize because of what they don't know, so it's extra fun when someone as smart as you doesn't have the pieces I already do. Just chortling to myself, "Oh ho ho, just you wait!" @elkian asked: I may have sent this before but I ADORE your Doc Scratch dissertations. What few liveblogs (and fandom during/after the run) I've followed have other strengths and focuses, so these moments where you stop everything to shred his dialogue to see if fhere's even a GRAIN of truth are novel and absolutely fascinating. I think you've done the most thorough analyses of any 1 of his convos let alone all of them and I'm here for it. Rip that shady motherfucker apart! :D

Despite myself, I am enjoying puzzling out the true meaning of what he says. I've just got to remember that he is fully capable of lying.

I do think, on balance, that there is some hidden meaning to his words - it's just hard to find. His '50% chance of ascending' statement is definitely foreshadowing something, I just can't figure out what. I think it has something to do with the reboot session, but I'm waiting to learn more about the reboot before I really start theorizing about it.

Anonymous asked: In case the 7 Gates haven’t been fully explained yet — the Gates over a player’s house are all either entry (transport to somewhere on their planet) or exit (destination of a gate on the planet of the previous player in the chain). Using John as example: Build to gate 1, which takes him somewhere on LOWAS. Find gate 2 elsewhere on LOWAS, this will take him to the matching gate over Rose’s house — build up to her gate 3, which will lead to somewhere on LOLAR, then find the planet’s gate 4, etc.

Here's my old interpretation of the Gate system, from way back in Act 4. I'm fully in agreement with you about John's path here - the problem is that when you use it to extrapolate Rose's path, things start to fall apart.

See, this ordering method implies that in a four-player chain, your own Seventh Gate is located on the Land preceding yours, rather than your own. This means that Rose's Seventh Gate is the one that got John killed on LOWAS - the one which leads to his Denizen. It additionally implies that John's Seventh Gate should have been on Jade's Land instead. It's all very confusing.

Anonymous asked: Something I love about how this god-tier immortality system is described, however it works, is that "remaining neutral" will PROBABLY keep you alive… but when you think about it, remaining neutral means not making a REAL DIFFERENCE. As a God, if you want to make a difference in the world around you -- good or bad -- you have to be willing to stake your life on it.

True! It's an interesting balancing mechanism, where each God Tier has to decide whether their life is more valuable than their personal agency. Gods who avoid Heroic and Just situations are almost invincible, but they're also completely ineffectual.

I'd obviously try to game the system somehow, but the vague, subjective definitions of Heroic and Just make this a difficult system to game.

@spyril4132 asked: with the reveal of the heroic-just system, there's now a reason you might not want to god tier immediately: sacrificing one of your selves for a heroic cause and then doing what aradia did (but intentionally)

Good point. Although, I'm not sure I'd want to rely on the Quest Slab for my resurrection - at least, not yet. We don't really know the rules are, and how they differ from normal Quest Bed rules.

Anonymous asked: "I don't really care if Paradox Space sanctions his actions - he needs to be taken down, and if that upsets the natural order, then it's time for a new natural order." i think you for sure lean more lifeways on the life/doom player axis lol. oh, the laws of the multiverse say death is inevitable? well, that fucking sucks and i hate it, so i'm gonna wedge myself into the cracks and loopholes and *make* it evitable one day at a goddamn time, life finds a way motherfucker.

Life finds a way, motherfucker!

I actually find both Life and Doom fairly interesting, as Aspects go. I think, at this point, I'm committed to giving one to my kidsona, and the other to my trollsona.

If another Aspect ends up catching my eye, we'll have to start workshopping a Carapaciansona!

Anonymous asked: I think you got it kinda twisted what's going on with Rose. Yes she is slightly corrupted by the Horrorterrors powers/boons and Scratch's… Sheer Existence. But in her mind, she's doing this to Save her session, so if she does go God Tier and gets killed, her death wouldn't be Just, it would probably be Heroic. As she probably would've died tryong to save her session, which would cancel out the corruption from Scratch and Horrorterrors. Either way she still dies, but it's the difference in Why she dies that's important. […]

See, this is the whole problem, isn't it? These terms are incredibly subjective.

I personally think Rose's attempt to save her session is extremely Heroic - but Skaia couldn't possibly approve of her assault on the game, so I don't think it would cancel out her Horrorterror corruption. Sburb itself is probably the last word on what qualifies as a Just death, so I think that's what she'd get tagged as, if she died as a God Tier in the Green Sun's explosion.

I'm also not sure if getting tagged as Heroic would cancel out a Just tag. They're not necessarily opposites - Vriska, for example, is designed to have a controversial alignment, and could easily die in a way that counts as both.

@ben-guy asked: Small correction, you referred to the Alternian empire as "intergalactic" when it only exists within one galaxy as far as I'm aware. Yes, kind of a silly nitpick, and one that I could be wrong about, but I happen to enjoy thinking about the comparative scale of space faring societies lol. If there is a quote contradicting that, I'd like to see it! Pretty sure it's merely a galactic empire tho :)

Nah, that's fair - that's the kind of nitpick I'd point out, too.

Galaxy, singular. I think I parsed the Empire as intergalactic because massively faster-than-light travel is clearly possible in this setting, via time manipulation. We don't actually know if Alternia had access to time manipulation before Sgrub - but Earth seemingly did, so who knows?

@abacusdictator asked: Found your liveblog a few days ago and furiously binged it. Happy to find another Homestuck liveblog! Especially one I can see happen in-progress! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Thanks - and you're certainly coming in at an interesting time!

Anonymous asked: Scratch "chooses not to lie," but he also has the privileged position of knowing in advance that Rose will misunderstand what the Scratch is, leading to her doing what he wants. If he knew that not lying wouldn't get him what he wants, or even if he didn't know for certain that it would, would he lie? If so, that basically means it's pointless to try to figure out his true meanings, because if you succeed, he'll have retroactively lied about it anyway.

Yeah, this is pretty much my take.

Does it really matter if he 'doesn't lie' if he can foresee all the truths that will mislead you? When you're playing at his level, the actual truth of your statements barely matters.

@skelekingfeddy asked: to my knowledge this has never been commented on by hussie, but i feel like doc scratch doesnt lie in part because he was made from the cueball. its a fortune telling device that predicts the future with remarkable precision and accuracy. you wouldnt expect it to lie, would you? its just that the difference between scratch and the cueball is that he can pick and choose WHICH truths to reveal at which moments. (his penchant for jokes thus probably comes from cal (‘haa haa hee hee hoo hoo’) i feel like him never lying is also a way to feed his own ego. its a self-imposed(!!!!) restriction, and yet despite it he effortlessly plays everyone like fiddles. and he KNOWS it. he CHOOSES never to lie. he VOLUNTARILY hands the people he manipulates an advantage on a goddamn silver platter, and he STILL wins. ‘Isn't it funny how during our various matches, I can tell you what my moves will be in advance, and still win?’ hes so fucking smug. what a pompous dipshit. i love him Anonymous asked: I think that when Scratch say he don't lie, he mean it, and not because of some vilainous valor but out of sheer ego. Scratch is prideful, he love beating other by "playing with cards face up" and tricking them with exact word, he doesn't tell the truth because it's "honorable", he tell the truth because he doesn't need to lie to win.

Also, this. He's just a smug fuck.

Do we know for sure if the cueball is always truthful, actually? Scratch heavily implies it here, but he's only stating it as a hypothetical.

Anonymous asked: Scratch is like a fae, he doesn't lie but you better watch out how he word what he say.

I'd be so screwed against the fae. Not because I couldn't parse their statements, but because I'm only halfway competent with human social customs, let alone weird alien ones.

@manorinthewoods asked: Honestly, I think it's great for his character if Scratch is actually completely dead of emotion inside, possibly even thoughts, and is just near-mindlessly carrying out the necessary parts of his role in the story so that his desired outcome is achieved. He's omniscient, he doesn't need to think. On the other hand, he does seem to have experienced genuine emotion, on occasions… ~LOSS (24/7/24)

A pseudo-omniscient character, mindlessly following the optimal path to their ultimate goal? This smells suspiciously like a Certified Contessa Moment...

Anonymous asked: In the trolls game all the trolls got to see and speak to their lusi after they died because they put them in the sprites. Meaning Gamzees dad coming back wouldn’t get him sober. Ideally Gamzee would be able to interact with his dad way more then he ever had in the past because his dad now had to guid him as his sprite.

Fair point. Although, we know that prototyping tends to affect your personality, and shifts your priorities towards guiding your Player through the game.

Goatsprite's sprite knowledge might have informed him that Gamzee needed to be on Sopor Slime, or game would become unwinnable.

@heliotropopause asked: "Well, no! That’s the problem! The cueball’s omniscience is completely redundant, because the MEOW code already contains an omniscience gene! According to the Scratch loredump, any ‘intelligent’ host for the MEOW code will be granted near-omniscience. Scratch didn’t need the cueball," I think it's worth considering the what exactly he meant with that- it seems perfectly plausible that the teleportation-based powerset established for bequerel would make an intelligent agent very good at observation, either by physically hopping around, or by teleporting light around to see distant places, or by sending out telekinetic "feelers"; we know bec has the capability to separately manipulate individual objects in physical contact from afar. None of this would give him knowledge of the future, or of physically disjoint spaces like the human session, so the cueball is not at all redundant.

It's possible. See, this is another situation where we're really being hampered by our small sample size. We've only seen two First Guardians, and only one of them has been a 'standard' First Guardian, unaltered by HONK. As such, we don't really know how First Guardian clairvoyance is supposed to function.

Another Guardian with human-level intelligence is desperately needed, for science. It's almost enough to make me want the Scratched Guardian of Earth to be made from a human...

@manorinthewoods asked: As an alternative explanation for the double-omniscience problem, one could say that the cueball, in being used to create Scratch, retroactively and conceptually gained his omniscience - so effectively, any use of a cueball allows you to attune to Scratch's awareness (as long as he's alive, perhaps?). This would subsequently imply that First Guardians are all linked to their components - for instance, there would be some link between Bec and all dogs, or specifically Halley. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

As this ask points out, I might just be drawing the causal arrows in the wrong direction. If the cueball is omniscient because of Scratch, rather than the other way round, then there's really only one root cause for his clairvoyance.

I'm not sure why it would work like that, but I do like the idea of Colonel Sassacre running around the early 1900s with a suspiciously powerful dog.

@manorinthewoods asked: The link between 'Skaia's final gate of defense' and 'first to find Alternia' is something I just didn't notice (because I didn't really pay attention to the words and botched my experience by not watching the Flashes), but it would imply, to me, that the gates run in reverse order, Skaia to World - first meteor in, last meteor out. This would mean that the moon which dropped on Jade was the last meteor to hit […]Skaia. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

Hey, good catch!

Jade's meteor was the last to arrive on Earth. By this logic, wouldn't it have been the first thing to leave the session, rather than the last?

That makes a sort of sense, actually. A meteor this enormous would dwarf the entire Incipisphere, so the game would probably want it out of the picture as soon as possible.

@manorinthewoods asked: You seem to have run with the interpretation that all First Guardians run on the same fundamental genetic code, identical to MEOW but using different letters. Not really how I thought of it - I interpret that every FG's code is different, although I also didn't think too hard about the FGs. No reason that they'd necessarily all have to have the same genetic code - after all, Bec's a dog and Scratch's a Scratch. You'd only really need a single gene to code for Green Sun powers… ~LOSS (23/7/24)

It does say they share a genetic sequence, rather than an entire genome. Becquerel presumably contains some dog DNA - the 'host' - which is absent in Scratch, so their genome can't be identical.

Unlike Becquerel, Scratch's hosts were entirely synthetic. They didn't have DNA - which, to me, implies that his entire genome is just an amalgamation of the BR8K H34DS T1CK T0CK HONK sequences. His DNA is just the First Guardian sequence, plus whatever is in HONK.

...what the hell is in HONK, then? If it's DNA, it has to come from some living thing, and I have a horrible feeling that Gamzee spliced his own DNA into the sequence. Why else would he call it HONK?

@skelekingfeddy asked: ‘…the fucking bow-tie! He’s wearing Cal’s Alternian clothes! The proof’s been staring us in the face this entire time, and we were none the wiser!’ look at what regular cal is wearing underneath his blue ‘CAL’ shirt :)

My guy's been pulling the long con.

@morganwick asked: "#but now that i have an antimatter pellet I can feed it to my bees. they can create nuclear waste honey without all the fission rigmarole" Minecraft, Sollux style. (Or maybe Minecraft, Problem Sleuth style?)

Sollux would be a Productive Bees specialist, wouldn't he? That, alongside every computer mod in existence.

@elkian asked: Sorry if I'm the 80th person to mention this but Vriska's 8r8k could also refer to the act of shooting the cue ball at the group of pool balls at the start of a game, known as a "break". @ben-guy asked: Fun fact: In pool terms, the "8r8k" actually refers to the opening shot that sends all the balls flying everywhere. Additional fun fact: The game of pool has a history of being used as a metaphor for causality, which lends some interesting metaphorical weight to Doc Scratch as a cue ball.

Oh, that's true - pool balls are often used as an analogy when talking about causality. Surprising that that's never occurred to me before.

I like to think that when the Felt storm a rival gang's lair as a group, they call their maneuver The Break.

@manorinthewoods asked: Oh my god, Aradia uses Jack to go to the Green Sun. That's such a cool detail. It's so fast, I didn't even see it. To be fair, although the timing is ridiculously impressive, Aradia is both a god and specifically a god of time. Although it's never stated, perfect timing is an obvious power for Time God Tiers to have, which does mean that Aradia would be a half-Flechette. ~LOSS (18/7/24)

And Kanaya's a fashion designer, too. Aradia x Kanaya when?

Anonymous asked: Hey, unfortunately the reqs list link seems to be janked out on my mobile client so I hope this is ok but if you haven't already heard of it I highly highly reccomend Jon Bois' 17776: What Football Will Look Like In the Future It's about football in the same sort of way that homestuck is about video games

Love that story - and I still have to read the sequel, actually!

Anonymous asked: Forwarding another question from the person without a Tumblr account: ~DJ. [I think the change in Equis and Nepeta's behavior is explained by "being together and solving problems together for a long time was great for Equius' and Nepeta's relationship" and "the destruction of Alternia helped Equius realize some facets of Alternian culture he believed where false" (because unlike Eridan he is able to change his mind about stuff like this). - RM]

I really want to see what Equius and Nepeta got up to for a month, as well as all the other trolls. It'd be great to get an 'untold stories of Homestuck' anthology at some point - and hopefully, that's something we'll see in some of Homestuck's tie-in media.

Anonymous asked: I’ve been thinking about Bec prototyping himself and I think I’ve got an answer that works for me - not necessarily the whole answer or the only answer, but I think it’s got something. Basically, Bec knows he can’t / shouldn’t get rid of the meteor entirely (he came down in a meteor that built the frog ruins, so even if we’re just going off what he’s experienced we can say that he probably on some level understands that these meteors landing is important) but he also understands he doesn’t have the type of power or the finesse with that power to only delay it until Jade can take the shot. After all, he could’ve just teleported the living room junk to a different part of the house, but he sent it into deep space because his doggy brain can only deal in absolutes when it comes to perceived danger to his best friend, and the only power we’ve seen First Guardians use (to my recollection) that would in any way help with slowing the meteor is teleportation. He can’t reliably teleport it back only far enough that it will keep falling, but won’t yet land, and he doesn’t have anything else at his disposal - except becoming a sprite, who we’ve seen use beam attacks, which allows Bec to push the meteor back as a delaying measure. Don’t know if he knew it would help so specifically, but even so, I can see Bec understanding it as the only option he has that isn’t either ‘send thing as far away as possible’ or ‘let thing squish most beloved person’. I do think the weakest parts of this theory are What Bec Understands, but puzzling through that devilbeast’s thoughts is hardly a new impossibility. If nothing else, we can all understand that he did this to save Jade, because he loves her, and we love him for that. -Megido (am a new anon, just spent the past couple days catching up and have enjoyed this liveblog immensely)

I think this theory is a good one, and Hussie's comments support it.

The meteor needed to be destroyed in a very specific way for the timeline to retain its integrity, and Bec should instinctively know that, born from Sburb as he is.

Anonymous asked: There are three lenses I think you can view troll romance through: the Xenopsychology lens, the Propaganda lens, and the Parody lens. The Xenopsychology lens is that trolls do in fact experience alien emotions which cannot be felt by humans. It's not just that troll society chooses to categorize the same types of feelings and relationships that humans have differently; these are genuinely unique and original emotions, like a new color that a human couldn't imagine. Describing kismesissitude as hatemance or rivalry or abuse, or moirallegiance as bromance or besties or queer platonic partnership, or auspisticism as third wheeling or mom friending or refereeing are all fundamentally incorrect, because there is no human analogue. You can take this a step further and say that matespritship is also fundamentally different from human romance, even if it appears similar. Therefore all attempts to analyze or write troll romance should be forays into xenofiction, attempting to understand things within a nonhuman framework. The Propaganda lens is that actually troll emotions aren't really any different than human ones, but the quadrant system benefits the hemocasteist militaristic empire by keeping trolls divided enough to become either fucked up killers or submissive victims by the time they reach maturity, but have the minimum support structure needed to actually reach maturity. Kismesissitude is fundamentally unhealthy, auspisticism serves as a counterbalance to keep everyone from killing each other, and moirallegiance serves to prevent trolls from having multiple close friendships or from being fully open with their matesprit by arbitrarily sequestering who it’s appropriate to have certain positive interactions with. None of this is really romance except the one that’s analogous to human romance, but trolls are raised to buy into the system under threat of death. It’s hard to form community and contemplate uprising if everyone confines the meaningful relationships in their life to like 4-5 other people, half of which are based on negative interactions. Also it’s a commentary on how human rules about love and relationships and where the platonic ends and romantic or sexual starts are socially enforced rather than wholly natural and can be arbitrary and unhealthy. Anonymous asked: The Parody lens is that this is all Hussie making fun of fandom shipping tropes. All sufficiently devoted rivalries are actually romantic love. All sufficiently strong friendships are actually romantic love. These two are so hopelessly oblivious to the fact that they actually want to get with the guy they hate, or that the other person they think just wants to be friends actually feels the same way, they need a third party to push them together. (Okay this one doesn’t work because auspisticism seems to basically be the opposite of that? Maybe auspisticism is supposed to be like, contrived elimination of competing romantic options to assure an OTP. Idk if anyone really knows what auspisticism is supposed to be, least of all Hussie.) Also because this was early 2010’s Hussie, there’s maybe a certain level on which trolls being societally obliged to polyamory and bisexuality is also making fun of shippers, although if it was I think Hussie turned around pretty quickly to actually being cool about it. Much like how light is a wave, and a particle, and a ray, all of these are true at different times. This is because the nature of Hussie's writing is that even when things are serious business, they are also jokes. And this is also why the Homestuck fandom will never agree on the correct way to understand and depict the quadrants.

Great breakdown. As you could probably predict, I lean a lot more towards the Propaganda lens, with a healthy dose of Parody mixed in.

The Xenopsychology lens isn't necessarily untrue - it's just that, as I've discussed before, the trolls read as extremely human to me. I honestly believe that if you raised a human on Alternia, they'd probably be compelled to form the same quadrants as everyone else.

I once got an ask stating that, according to Hussie, each of the quadrants are meant to be exaggerated versions of human relationship dynamics. I'd really like to check out that full quote, so if anyone's got a link, send it my way!

[aviiarie]

THE FLAME HASHIRA'S TSUGUKO — platonic kyojuro rengoku & reader !

synopsis. what is the flame hashira like with a tsuguko? warnings. spoilers for mugen train arc. kny-typical warnings (violence, death, etc.) brief mentions of food and eating. notes. STRICTLY PLATONIC. demon slayer!reader. reader uses flame breathing. gn!reader. they/them used. fluff. 1.3k words. second in my tsuguko series! if you enjoyed, do let me know who you want to see in the next one ^^

muichiro ver.

if there is one hashira that is most sought out as a mentor, it is kyojuro rengoku.

to young demon slayers, he is the best candidate. he's warm and welcoming to the new recruits, he's much more approachable than other hashira, he doesn't look he would beat them to a pulp in the name of 'training'. whenever there is a new batch of slayers freshly accepted into the demon slayer corps, there is a wave of requests to become his tsuguko.

however, kyojuro has never actually looked at his pile of applications. they lie untouched in a small stack, gathering dust in a corner of his estate. the system of sending in an application in the hopes of achieving a mentor had never made sense to him; surely the only way a worthy tsuguko is chosen would be by dazzling him with their skills?

that's how mitsuri became his student, and that's exactly how he ended up with [name]!

they were practicing alone in one of the training rooms when he happened to walk by, on his way to a hashira meeting. kyojuro stopped in his tracks, drawn to the bright lights and warmth that only flame-breathing created.

he glanced into the room, and was immediately captivated by their skill. it wasn't perfect, by any means—at a hashira standard, it was downright sloppy—but there was a certain passion in their eyes that caught his attention. they were pouring every ounce of effort in their body into flame-breathing, with an energy that only a truly determined fighter held.

they had strong potential, he could tell from just a few seconds of watching them. if that wasn't a worthy candidate for tsuguko then he doesn't know what was.

“impressive!”

“huh?! who said that?”

when they accept, his training begins the very next morning. he wakes them up at dawn, looking far too refreshed for how early it was, and puts them through a series of drills to test their strength and speed. this is followed by some light sparring, before he encourages them to show him what they know about flame-breathing.

between exercises, there are a few values he instills in his student.

the first is the one he thinks every demon slayer should believe: the duty of the strong is to protect the weak. he will train them for as long as it takes for them to gain strength, so that one day they will be able to protect people as he does. anger and a desire for vengeance would only push them so far; they needed to know what they were fighting for, who they were protecting.

the second is less selfless, but no less noble in his eyes: to take care of others, you must take care of yourself first. he knows firsthand that neglecting the health of one's own body in favour of duty will only make him less capable of carrying out said duty, so he makes sure to drill the words in their head. proper rest, hydration, and sustenance are essentials for keeping oneself in top condition, and ready for battle.

the final is the most difficult to learn: loss is heartbreaking, but inevitable. kyojuro has been a part of the demon slayer corps for a long time, and before he was a hashira, he was a beginner demon slayer. he has experiences missions that have failed, he has witnessed casualties—both civilian, and his fellow slayers. while protecting innocents is a hashira's top priority, he needs his tsuguko to know that death is unavoidable in some situations, no matter how skilled they are. that doesn't mean that it is their fault, when tragedy strikes.

training is rigorous, but kyojuro is an excellent teacher. he is patient when they're struggling, eager to praise their improvements, no matter how small.

he builds a rapport with them fast. months of training go by, and their progress is simply incredible! he couldn't be more proud!

by then, he honestly treats his tsuguko like a second sibling. like, of course they are invited to family dinner with senjuro, was that ever a question? senjuro himself was slightly wary about them at first, but it didn't take long for him to warm up to them too.

family dinner is nonnegotiable, by the way. it only happens about once a month when kyojuro isn't on a mission and senjuro has the time to cook a meal for them, so it's treated very seriously. they will show up and they will enjoy it, or they will have to deal with senjuro's quiet sullenness and kyojuro's passive-aggressive sighs of disappointment.

(kyojuro used to invite his father to these dinners, but he was always met with a blunt dismissal whenever he tried to ask. senjuro told him to just let it go, so he quietly gave up on attempting to include him. family was much more peaceful when it was just the three of them, anyway.)

during the colder months, he has a habit of throwing his haori over his tsuguko’s shoulders after their lessons to keep them warm on their way back to their room. if they try to protest it, he just waves them off with a laugh.

“do not worry, young [name]! i can assure you that i have no problem with keeping warm myself! but i can't have you freezing before our next training session, can i?”

he is a kind mentor. brave, encouraging. he never looks down on his tsuguko, even when the gap between their skills makes it clear he is—and likely always will be—a step above them. to them, he is unshakeable, untouchable.

well. until the mugen train mission, that is.

they were in the middle of resting from a mission, when kyojuro's crow landed on their windowsill and delivered the news: in the battle against upper moon three, kyojuro was fatally wounded.

for a second, they couldn't quite believe it. it was only a few weeks prior that they had seen him, grinning and pushing a bento box into their hands, promising he would be back to train with them soon enough.

the grief hits them hard. they can't fathom the idea of never hearing his bright and cheerful voice wake them at the crack of dawn, never feeling his warm hand clap against their shoulder to give an encouraging squeeze. tears spill over, their breath chokes in their throat.

he is gone. there won't be another family dinner, or spontaneous training session, or trips into town to watch sumo wrestling. they were alone; a tsuguko without a mentor, a fire without any kindling.

it's then that their mentor's voice rings in their head, reminding them of the three lessons he taught the.

the duty of the strong is to protect the weak. kyojuro died protecting his fellow slayers. it was an honourable death, and one that he would be satisfied with.

to take care of others, you must take care of yourself first. with shaky hands, they pour themself a cup of soothing tea. kyojuro would urge them to focus on keeping themself healthy during such a grief-filled time.

loss is heartbreaking, but inevitable. kyojuro was dangerously aware of his own mortality, and never shied away from the idea that he might die any day. he would enthusiastically talk about how when he is gone, they will be the next flame hashira.

kyojuro wouldn't want them to fall apart without him. he would want them to keep burning like a inferno, channeling their emotions into their breathing until it was as sharp as their blade. the last thing he would want is to let his death destroy the fire in their heart.

so they stop. they breathe. they mourn. then, they hold their head up high, and steady their blade at their side.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[fermented-writers-block]

Not gonna lie, with the Spot’s upcoming time mucking shenanigans as suggested by the flashes of the future in Miles’ vision, I would not be surprised if the dimensional collapsing theorized by Miguel to come from averting too many “Canon Events” will turn out to be a side effect of something the Spot will either do himself or set up to screw with Miles.

Particularly, with how much his origin monologue to Miles and Jeff centered around the idea that he made Spider-Man and vice versa, note how incredibly well that mentality would dovetail with Miguel and the Spider Society’s belief that the “Canon Events” are what made them Spider-Man.

@kindaorangey has a good post pointing out how the Spot’s mindset of “filling the hole with more holes” is a pretty apt metaphor for the way Miles, Gwen, and likely the other spider people diving into the identity of Spider-Man as a crutch for dealing with the isolation caused by said identity, but suffice to say, OP and @sir-adamus had these tags which I'd like to use as a jumping pad:

For this, we can analyze Miguel and Spot as two sides of the same coin, where Miguel’s side is about allowing canon events to play out through inaction, and Spot's side could potentially lead up to (as a side effect of his grudge against Miles) actively ensuring that only those canon events happen, with any deviations that don't fit into their views being cast aside.

The former position projects personal traumas as absolutely necessary and destined to happen onto others, the latter position rejects any possibility that things could go differently in a quite literal manner. But in the end, both ultimately are about "filling in the hole with more holes" and dictating what Miles "should" be like.

Miguel doesn’t think Miles is a real Spider-Man and that him becoming Spider-Man was a mistake that never should have happened, all from his obsessive mentality surrounding Canon Events. He and by extension the other Spider-Men stuck in their hole of guilt and fatalism, surrounding themselves with other Spider-Men stuck in their holes of trauma and grief to where they have formed an echo chamber that tells them Miles cannot save his father's life and that they cannot do anything to save people anymore.

And in the Spot's case, the metaphor already came from him, but it's all about obsessively centering his new, lonely existence around being not just A, but THE nemesis to Miles' Spider-Man. He lost everything and has nothing except his connection to Spider-Man. To fill that hole, he's not only only making himself a villain that Miles will actually respect. He's going to try his damnedest to make sure that Miles reaches his full potential as Spider-Man just like he talked about in Mumbattan, and fill the hole with more holes in Miles' life until Miles is devoid of everything except the Spot.

Given the flashes of future events in Miles’ vision, if and when the Spot inevitably hears about Miguel's theory of Canon Events, it would only be fitting if the Spot retroactively becomes responsible for all the previous dimensional destruction the Spider-Society dealt with. And thus, Miguel's theory obsession would be its own recursive creator.

A vicious cycle of telling themselves that things have to happen a certain way, of blaming uncontrollable circumstances on something they think they can and should control, and of refusing to let go of the spiral they've fallen into.

After all, Miles already had an Uncle Ben-type event and the Spot is trying to set up a Captain Stacy-type event. Since the logical conclusion to the themes of Miles choosing what kind of Spider-Man he wants to be and not allowing preventable tragedies to happen would be that Jeff lives, well…

It would only be narratively fitting for the Spot to try to set up a Gwen Stacy event later down the line.

Because if Miles being bit and the Spot getting caught up in the collider wasn't destiny, if the intersection of their lives was simply due to circumstances they had no control over, if the dimensional collapses weren't because preventing Canon Events is inherently destabilizing to reality in of itself, then Miguel and the Spot would have to look inwards and actually try to figure out how to fill the holes in their lives.

So Miguel tells himself that what he does has to be done, that only he is strong enough to do it, and that everyone should follow his lead and stop caring.

As for the Spot?

If he fails to kill Jeff and Gwen, and when it's proven to everyone else that Canon Events are not required lynchpins of reality like Gwen found, he might just decide to try to make them actual lynchpins across time and space.

Or at least, making it so that the only realities that can exist are ones where those events happen.

Aka trying to forcibly changing the multiverse so suffering huge tragedy becomes an inherently integral part of Spider-Man the concept, rather than a mere possibility. So many Spider-Men and their dimensions getting hurt in the crossfire, and all in the process of targeting Miles Morales specifically.

Truly, it would be quite resonant if and when the Spider-Society let and help Miles get to save his Captain and Gwen Stacy. Beating the Spot would no longer be about the concept of stopping a threat to the multiverse and their canon events, but about metaphorically ending the cycle of suffering and finding a way to move forwards beyond the guilt. They probably can’t actually change the past, but with this, they can fight to prevent it from happening to others.

[cho-aaacho]

To you who will be gone

Masterlist

Warning : Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Tragedy, Betrayal

He's always been alone; that's just who he is. He doesn't need anyone; he never has. Saying that people fail to understand him, saying that his entire life is a facade, saying that he doesn't need love.

For 15 years, he's spun a web of lies; each one is like cancer. Each lie hurts him deeply. 

Sometimes he wonders if it's worth it, and sometimes he thinks about stopping himself, running away from his life, and leaving everything behind.

"How about if I stop and drown myself in the river?"

But he never did that. Never.

He fondly recalls his time in the S.T.A.R.S. office, surrounded by his men, and all the beautiful things at that time. Their smiles greet him each morning, sharing coffee and laughter. Those were the days when every moment felt like spring.

But... S.T.A.R.S. is now gone. Every gesture he takes now feels agonizing as he betrays them, opting for a path of violence that severs the bonds he once shared with his men. His hands, now covered with their blood, serve as a constant reminder of his betrayal.

He knew that Chris hated him, Jill cursed his name for his betrayal, and perhaps Rebecca and Barry secretly wished for his death. He understood that his actions would inevitably lead to this. What did he expect?

He still recalls the last time he saw your face at the RPD, on a pleasant summer morning. Despite how happy you are that morning, joking with Chris and Joseph, talking about a new movie and music, and teasing Jill, Wesker feels sad. Something inside his heart broke him into pieces. 

Everything seems unplaced and wrong. Empty. Alone.

"How could I do this to everyone here? They're all my friends, aren't they?" He thought to himself.

"But... friends did not stay longer; they could leave you." He continued, trying to make everything better from his point of view.

He always hates summer, and he confided this to Birkin, and the summer of 1998 was the peak of his dislike. 

He couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind his hatred—perhaps the heat was frying his brain, or maybe he was just overwhelmed by thoughts of his mission.

Time flies, and days pass. Every time he glances at the calendar, a frown is painted on his forehead, and his lower lip is caught between his teeth as he lets out a frustrated sigh. What happened to him? What is the sudden feeling?

Despite his sunglasses shielding his blue eyes and expression, Enrico caught glimpses of Wesker's melancholy, and... in the silence, he would ask, "Is everything okay, Wesker?"

...curious probably worried.

And as an answer, Wesker would dismiss it with a giggle, assuring Enrico that he was fine and had nothing to worry about. Just like that, Enrico would forget, as if it never happened to his partner.

At the end of his shift, Wesker spotted you alone in the hallway, leaning against the wall. You seemed lost in thought, and Wesker couldn't read what was on your mind. Perhaps he didn't want to; cheering on his colleagues wasn't a priority.

With a stack of documents in hand, Wesker stood there awkwardly, like a fool, and didn't say anything or greet you. 

You gazed at your phone and groaned, and it startled him, but as you glanced up at Wesker, the anger on your face softened into a calm expression. A smile curls on your lips. It's cute, to be honest. At least in Wesker's opinion.

"...evening, Wesker," you greeted.

Maybe you'd had a breakup, he thought, or perhaps you were disappointed about missing out on some Digimon merchandise at the toy store.

"You're still here?" he asked, moving closer to you.

"Yeah, Chris pulled a prank on Brad, and now his motorcycle's blown up somewhere because of his prank. He wants me to go pick him up. Useless."

"Oh!" Wesker chuckled. "I thought maybe you'd lost your Digimon merch," he teased, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Yet a tinge of sadness flickered in his eyes.

"I've given up on that merch. It's too hard to find. But, damn, I still want it so badly! Maybe... I'll get to touch it at least once before I die."

Wesker's smile faltered. "Why do you say that?"

"Well... considering our line of work, I'm not sure I'll make it to old age," you replied. "Maybe I'll meet my end by the end of '98—caught in an explosion."

Silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and after you mentioned the explosion, a voice inside his head pleaded. "Please, just run from me." 

"Oh, I'm sure you'll make it to old age. I can imagine you with a family, maybe even grandchildren, someday. I'll be there to lend a hand," he said with a chuckle, his voice tinged with warmth. "But I do wonder what I'll look like in 30 years."

You laughed and playfully punched his arm. "You'll probably look the same, Wesker. I mean, just look at you. When I first saw you, I thought you were the same age as Brad. I often wonder what your skincare routine is like. But knowing you, you'd probably just say it's just a moisturizer."

He smiled. "Oh, I'm definitely aging. Maybe you just haven't seen me up close. I've got wrinkles too, like Barry."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. But you are aging slower; I've always known that!" 

As both of you laughed, Wesker caught a glimpse of rosy cheeks on your face, prompting him to reflect on his actions. "How could I have done that to you? Should I..."

"Eh, Wesker, I overheard something during lunch," you said, your voice taking on a mysterious tone.

"What did you hear?" Wesker furrowed as he tightened his grip on his documents.

"Well, they're saying people are disappearing in the mountains, and some claim to have seen ghosts. I didn't catch all the details, but apparently this ghost is preying on humans. Cannibalism seems far-fetched, doesn't it?"

"Don't worry too much. It's probably just a rumor. But if it bothers you, you could discuss it with Enrico," he suggested, pausing. "Or perhaps with me?" His last words came out almost as a whisper.

Before you could respond, a phone call from Chris interrupted you, drawing your attention to run to the entrance.

That night remains etched in your memory—cold and chilling, your chest feels hurt and burnt. Chris cradled your bleeding body, rendering you unable to move or speak. Despite your efforts, opening your eyes proved to be a struggle. All you could do was listen.

Oh... Wesker is arguing with Chris. 

"You've killed them with your dirty hands!" Chris' voice pierced the air.

"I think you're a bit confused. I've always been with Umbrella."

Suddenly, all your senses returned, flooding you with memories of what happened to Richard, Forest, Enrico, and everyone else.

You still remember that time. You were on the balcony, locked in an argument with Wesker, desperately trying to make sense of his betrayal. 

He had been a Judas all along; his kindness, smiles, and everything is a facade.

"So, everything was a lie?" Forest's bleeding body startled you. "But why?"

"Don't point fingers at me," Wesker said, but it was devoid of warmth, colder than anything you'd ever heard from him.

You remembered how his laughter and smile used to fill the room with warmth, always making you laugh along, or how gentle he was. 

He pointed his samurai edge at you, a smirk curling on his lips. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. You were the best subordinate. I didn't want to kill you. Perhaps I could have taken you away, run with the wind," he paused. "But I know that's not what you'd want."

Then he shot you right in the chest, sending you plummeting from the balcony to the ground below. As you fell, you caught a glimpse of Forest's lifeless body nearby, with Wesker standing at the edge. He seemed to say something, his lips moving in slow motion.

"Please, just run from me," he whispered, disappearing from your sight.

A/N : Hey there, sorry for my disappearance! I was planning to write another Wesker fanfic but got distracted by something. It's funny how that happens, right?

Btw, I'm writing this after listening to Sakayume by King Gnu and Confused Memories by Yuko Tsuburaya. You should check them out when you get the chance!

[fantasy-nerdddd]

Is Epic A Tragedy?

I've seen a couple people here question whether epic is a tragedy or a celebration of ruthlessness. I'll try to answer that by checking the criteria of definitions of ancient greek tragedies and tragic characters and the modern interpretation of tragedy.

Tragedy in ancient Greece was not defined as something bad or what we call tragic. It's actually, according to Aristotle:

"Εστίν ούν τραγωδίαν μίμησης πράξεως σπουδαίας καί τελείας, μέγεθος έχουσιν, ηδυσμένω λόγω, χωρίς εκάστω τών ειδών έν τοίς μιριοις, δρώντων καί ού δι' απαγγελίας, δι' ελέου καί φόβου περαίνουσα τήν τών τιούτων παθημάτων κάθαρσιν." (Yes, I did copy the ancient Greek definition. No, I don't know why)

We'll go over Aristotle's points one by one:

Imitation of actions (μίμησης πράξεως): The tragedy must imitate and show actual actions. Of course it is. Even if we don't count the animatics, Epic will become a play, or a circus play, or whatever it will become at some point. Still in progress Epic does have both animatics and imitations purely by the music.

Has a certain length (μέγεθος έχουσιν): The tragedy needs to have a length not too short in order to relay every message and meaning, but not too long in order to keep the audience focused and entertained. Epic fulfills both, at least to me. I don't think you could say Epic is boring.

Cleansing (κάθαρσιν): The tragedy should satisfy the audience. The hero can't be way too bad, because the audience won't sympathise with them and will think of their punishment as inevitable and deserved. However, they can't be too good, because the audience won't understand the Gods and their punishment will be met with anger. The main character should be ambiguous. Odysseus manages that well; look at all the people defending him and all the people defending Poseidon, Circe and Polyphemus. He's not the best morally, but he is not hated by everyone and a devil upon earth.

Serious and important (σπουδαίας): Ofc, the tragedy must be serious and important. I think Epic is both. I mean, the Odyssey is a very serious matter, and taking 10 years to return to your homeland is pretty important. It wouldn't have been the second most well known epic if it wasn't important.

Finished (τέλειας): The tragedy must have everything that happened, the reasoning, the consequences and the excuses presented in some way. I'm not an objective judge because I knew the Odyssey before Epic, but there are no plot holes like that from what I know.

Seasonings (ηδυσμένω λόγω): The tragedy must have something to make it more interesting and entertaining. Yes, Aristotle used a parallel to cooking, but he mainly meant rhythm and music. I think the title shows that, yes, there's both. Epic The Musical is a musical after all.

Correct me if I'm wrong or missing anything, but for now the answer is yes, according to Aristotle, Epic is a tragedy.

That's going to be short, but tragedy is generally interpreted as a misfortunate event in general. Yes. I'm pretty sure Epic is a tragedy in this kind.

Now, let's see whether or not Odysseus is a tragic character. According to my Helen by Euripides professor, a tragic character has to:

• Fight with Fates and Gods generally but also other humans, sometimes even themselves.

• Go from ignorance to knowledge through facing tragic dilemmas, contradicting situations and dead ends. It also has to include the consequences of these actions (guilt, loneliness, woe, defeat or redemption)

• Result in moral freedom, which shows the personality of the tragic character

Okay, so, point 1. Odysseus fights with all 4 in some ways. In No Longer You, he hears that he won't make it back, misinterprets it and decides to change his personality in order to fight fate, making No Longer You a self-fulfilling prophecy. Gods are numerous. Poseidon in Ruthlessness, Get In The Water and Six Hundred Strike. Zeus' will in The Horse And The Infant. Athena, if we stretch it, in Warrior Of The Mind, Remember Them and My Goodbye. Calypso in Love In Paradise. Humans is Luck Runs Out and especially Mutiny, as well as the upcoming song Odysseus. Himself and his morals is one of the additions from Jorge, and a constant theme of Epic. Just A Man and Monster are centered around that however there are hints everywhere.

Point number 2 might be controversial, but I'll take as knowledge the "Ruthlessness is mercy" mentality and Odysseus' belief that it works as the story goes on. Odysseus starts with the Open Arms mentality, and in later songs starts to accept, even welcome and hunt ruthlessness. He starts to believe that ruthlessness will make him achieve his goal, showcased in Different Beast, Scylla, Thunder Bringer and, most of all, Six Hundred Strike and Odysseus. Does it work? For him and his family, his main priorities, yes. I'll take that as growing knowledge it will. He even says so in Monster:

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves

And deep down I know this well"

Are his words to be trusted? No, not really. But it's just one more point. As for the tragic dilemmas, contradicting situations and dead ends, I think I've got at least one example for each. Dillema is obviously the infant, Astyanax. Do you kill an innocent soul because you were told it will kill your family? Or do you spare it and hope for the best? Contradicting situations could be the lyrics from Just A Man and Puppeteer:

"Deep down I would trade the world to see my son and wife"

"There's no length I wouldn't go if it was you I had to save"

Up until Thunder Bringer, that's possible. But not both can happen when Zeus makes Odysseus choose. He'll either see his son and wife, or he'll save his brother-in-law, Eurylochus. I know he didn't really want to save Eurylochus at this point (though I don't believe he wanted him dead), but those promises are contradicting. Love In Paradise is a dead end for Odysseus. If Athena didn't care for him, he would have been left in Ogygia for eternity as Calypso's plaything. Odysseus thought it was a dead end. He saw death as his only way out. Hell, he almost acted on his suicidal thoughts (that was a very, very stressful part of the musical for me). And is anyone going to argue Odysseus doesn't feel guilt, woe, loneliness, defeat or redeemed at some point in the story? I thought so.

EDIT: I forgot point 3 for Tragic Odysseus, let me add it. The story hasn't ended yet, so we can't tell for sure. But I believe he'll have the choice, after killing the suitors, to soften down and live in peace or continue the ruthless, cold path. From the snippets we've heard, it's going to be the former. Which also reveals a thing or two about his character: he didn't want to be ruthless or cause pain. He has always wanted peace with his family, and he'll get it.

Odysseus is a tragic character, at least in Epic.

So why isn't the Odyssey classified as a tragedy? Or Odysseus by Homer a tragic character? There are two reasons.

a) It has no music or rhythm. Which means it doesn't fulfill all the criteria for a tragedy (look to the seasonings section)

b) In Homer's time, the word tragedy didn't exist. The word was created centuries later to fit plays like Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus, Antigone by Sophocles and Medea by Euripides. I'm not going to analyse those, but they involve acting and music, not just a guy reciting a poem.

Anyways, I didn't expect this to get this long. Tell me if I've missed anything or made a mistake :)

[dsudis]

A Dreamling story I am not writing (today)

Hob makes a flirtatious little advance to Dream--something kind of plausibly deniable, testing whether Dream even thinks of him that way enough to notice a pass, and Dream busts out the "we cannot, it is forbidden for any of my kind to love a mortal, it can only end in tragedy and horror for all involved."

Hob Gadling, who has faked his death 73 times to exit a relationship before the otherwise-unavoidable Sad Ending could play out including twice before he became immortal, and furthermore can parse it's not you, it's me in several languages: "Oh! Wow, that must make dating difficult for you."

Dream: "I simply do not."

Hob: "Yeah! Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't. You know what would put you off the whole idea? Love Island. Have you seen--"

And then Hob just fucking drops the whole idea.

It's not like he thought it was possible, and wow, okay, turns out is definitively not possible, whether the whole "forbidden" thing is strictly true or just Dream putting a very firm kibosh on the whole notion. And Hob, outside a few limited cases which he's taken as Important Lessons in Surviving Immortality, is pretty good at not dwelling on what he can't have, so he just moves the fuck on with his life, goes on some dates, and it's fine! More new people in his life! Sometimes he gets to tell his oldest friend about them!

Meanwhile Dream is losing his fucking mind.

This is not! how! this story is supposed to go!! His old true friend who suddenly after 632 years finally makes a move is not supposed to just LET IT GO when Dream says they can't possibly be together!!! Dream wasn't actually invested in or possibly even aware of the possibility either, before that conversation, but now he is full speed ahead PINING while also being increasingly irritated with Hob for just TAKING HIS WORD FOR IT when he said it could never happen. Why isn't Hob willing to fight for him??? For THEM??????

So obviously at some point this all spills out and Hob is like "...I could? If you... wanted me to? Are we... just not going to worry about the inevitable tragedy at this time?"

And Dream, all sulky, is like, "I don't see why you should believe that would apply to you when you defied the inevitability of death just fine."

And Hob smiles, real slowly, and says, "You've got me there."

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

the fact that luz and hunter paralleled phillip and caleb was meant to show that the wittebane's story didn't have to end in tragedy. it was similar to how the clawthorne sisters also paralleled the wittebanes. one sibling curses the other or takes her prisoner or leaves him in the human world by himself. the other sibling is infuriated to be put in this situation.

phillip, having been left behind by caleb, eventually tries to "save" his brother from the witches. caleb tries to fix his mistake by introducing phillip to his new family in the boiling isles and reassures his brother that he still loves him. and phillip still ends up killing him.

eda shows that it didn't have to end that way. after decades of estrangement from her sister, eda rages when she finds out that lilith cursed her. when she's about to be executed, eda tries to kill her sister in revenge. but when king tells her what happened, eda looks past the years of hardship and her sister's betrayal and shields her sister with her own body. when they escape their execution, lilith tries to fix her mistake by sharing eda's curse. and from their bond as siblings formed in childhood, the sisters are able to reconcile.

luz and hunter are a little different in that their story happens in reverse. these two first meet with hunter threatening luz and her loved ones. their second meeting, as well as hunter's subsequent meetings with luz's friends, always involve hunter getting luz and her friends into some kind of trouble. they should naturally be enemies. but they end up becoming close friends because luz is kind, and hunter is open-minded.

luz and hunter, as well as the clawthornes, show that phillip didn't have to address his issues with caleb by killing him. they were siblings. the past bond between the wittebane brothers should have spurred them to reconnect and fix their broken relationship. the previous bond wasn't even necessary for them to make up. all phillip needed was to be open to caleb's life decisions.

the point to all the sibling parallels isn't that "phillip is just like luz" or "caleb is just like hunter." in fact, i think that misses how belos was projecting both himself and his brother onto luz, and trying to take his frustrations with his brother out on hunter. the point to these parallels is to highlight just how much belos's murder of his brother was anything but inevitable.

there was no reason that phillip couldn't have put more thought into why caleb wanted to live in the boiling isles, and come to an understanding with him. other people were able to come to an understanding with their siblings in more dire circumstances. but the core of phillip wittebane's character is that when faced with facts that contradict his worldview, he plugs his ears and doubles down. and that's what he chose when dealing with his brother. the tragedy of the wittebane brothers didn't have to happen, but phillip chose this for himself.

[morverenmaybewrites]

Hi! I'm so glad your back, Pizza Girl is my favorite fanfic of all time!!!

I have a question, about Jason's life as a adopted son of Bruce Wayne, particularly his relationship with Batfamily (especially Dick and Barbara).

During Jasons POV, he often reflects on this time as being warm and homely, easly more comfortable than his previous conditions of living (duh, but still, positive aspects). Buuut, while thinking about his relationship with members of the family, as much as he appreciates the company and patience, he often remembers feeling scared of being thrown away if he makes a mistake, and rarely mentions bonding time with his siblings.

But on the other hand, from Dick's POV, (that I think is more reliable, because Jason's POV is influenced by his abandonment related trauma), it's painfully, heartbreakingly obvious that he loves Jason like a little brother, and that both before and now he still cares and wishes to have a better relationship with him. Similarly Barbara, who's uncondicionably there for him.

So i was thinking, do you have any headcannons for how was their time together before the kidnapping? Its mentioned that it was hard for Jason to open up, but was there time when they managed to do this? What did they like about each other, did they have favorite activities to do together in their civilian lives?

(I feel like I'm asking for fluff but in reality it's tragedy knowing what inevitably happened)

Ayt, I had been putting off answering these for a while because I had a hard time articulating my thoughts on the matter. I still have a hard time articulating my thoughts, so I'm going to try and break it down.

Jason's Relationship with Bruce

I think for the most part, Jason's relationship with Bruce was informed by the fact that while Bruce deeply loved Jason, he didn't love him in the way Jason needed.

By the time the two of them met, Jason was already deeply scarred by his experiences. He was born into one of Gotham"s poorest districts, to two parents who were neglectful at best and abusive at worst.

So when he was plucked off the grimy streets of Park Row and placed into the Wayne Manor, and got told that now, he is another man's son. I imagine the change would have rattled anyone, let alone a street rat who was used to just barely surviving.

Suddenly, there was food whenever he wanted.

Suddenly, he had a bed, the sheets warm and clean and the mattress so soft that he's scared it will swallow him.

Suddenly, he had a family.

And oh, how deeply hard it was to believe that it was all for him.

I imagine he spent most of those early days waiting for the rug to be pulled out underneath him. For him to wake up one day to find himself back in Crime Alley, an orphan once more.

So a lot of his time in Wayne Manor was actually colored by paranoia that, eventually, they will get bored of him, like a rich socialite getting bored of a yapping dog when it goes out fashion.

He spent most of his time trying to prove himself to Bruce, being the best at what he can be, because you don't throw useful things away.

(It does not help that during this time, Bruce was still reeling from his fight with Dick, and ended up comparing Jason to Dick a lot, something that deeply damaged Jason.).

I think that while Bruce deeply Jason, he just wasn't able to provide the sort of loving environment one should provide to a damaged child. He gave him a home, he gave him food, and shelter, and I imagine that if Jason was the type to ask for things (he wasn't), Bruce would have given it to him without a second thought.

But he also gave him the Robin suit, and a responsibility that was, in truth, far too heavy to place on the shoulders of a child. I think Jason probably treated being Robin as a way to "earn" his position into Wayne Manor.

Batman, after all, needed a sidekick.

And Jason was desperate to give them a reason to let him stay.

But I think, that Jason's time with the Joker also colored how he perceives Bruce (how can it not). It made him forget that they had good days, too. And a lot of them.

Because Bruce did care about Jason. He was patient whenever Jason would explode into fits of anger, he let him have the run of the library, they'd talk about their favorite books, ways to better their arsenal. If they had time, I think the relationship would have turned into something beautiful.

If they had time, I think they would have been the two people in the family who understood each other best.

(But sadly, they did not have time. And these days, the memory of him makes Jason run cold.).

Jason's Relationship with Dick

They actually didn't have much of a relationship! It's something that Dick regrets and wishes to fix.

I headcanon that Jason was adopted shortly after Dick's fight with Bruce and his subsequent departure with Bludhaven. During this time, I think that Dick was busy trying to establish his own life, find his own identity. He didn't have much time to come back to Wayne Manor and get to know his new brother.

Whenever he did come by though, Dick did make an effort with Jason, and I think that mattered.

It mattered too, that he and their father were as different as night and day. While Bruce was subdued and muted, Dick was animated, chattering constantly. Asking questions.

On rare occasions, he'd take Jason out to someplace fun, joking that Bruce's idea of fun would be going through the criminal files.

He was a good big brother, when he was there. But most of the time, he was not. And that made it easier for the Joker to make Jason believe that he didn't care.

Jason's relationship with Barbara

I think that, aside from Alfred, Barbara is the closest to Jason.

While Dick was busy trying to establish himself as Nightwing and Bruce was being...Bruce, it was Barbara who took it upon herself to be Jason's mentor.

She'd often look out for him during patrols, give him pointers during training, and she'd also make it a point to make sure that Jason would be able to relax.

If the Batfam ever organized a movie night or an outing to the city park, it was because of her.

A part of Jason definitely remembers this, which is why at the start of the story, Barbara is the only one he bothers keeping in contact with.

[aleki-lives-here]

Today I'm thinking about Murderbot and Trauma™ and how much of what it is is shaped by it.

It's of course impossible to separate a person from their experiences, we are all shaped by our past, but I keep wondering, if Murderbot's existence was different, how different would it be? And also: could its existence have ever been any different? Memory wipes are fascinating. Four years and bright memories of the worst moments is all that it's got, and for all we knows its past is just more of the same, but could it be different?

I wonder if it only started avoiding any interaction so much after it hacked its governor module. With Three we can see that SecUnits can have something like relationships, care for each other between the lines of the protocol. Is it possible that Murderbot was more open to this, once? Before it hacked itself and had a life or death secret to constantly hide, especially from other SecUnits?

It's so obvious just how much Ganaka Pit has affected it, despite the memory wipe. Especially with how important its function is for it -- it's not just that it was forced to be a murderer (it's not just that it couldn't know if it was forced or if it chose to) -- it killed its clients, the people it was meant to and wanted to protect. It's the reason it hacked its governor module -- not to seek revenge, not to escape, but to make sure the same tragedy didn't repeat. Would it ever have hacked it, if not for Ganaka Pit? Or would it be if not happy than indifferent enough to continue its existence as it was, until inevitably something led to its death?

I wonder, if Ganaka Pit and the subsequent memory wipe didn't happen, how different its relationship with PreservationAux would have progressed? Would it be just as terrified of the idea of being seen -- as a person, as someone that has feelings? Probably. But would it be to the same extent? It would be infinitely more confusing without the context of media, I think. But could it have been more open, less scared of being treated with consideration, at some point?

I wonder if it would be just as touch averse if it ever experience touch that wasn't in a life or death situation. Is it possible for it to learn to associate touch with something nice? Would it even want to?

I have a million questions and what ifs, and none of them can be answered. Ultimately, I don't even think they matter, except like a thought experiment for an AU. I would like to see this AU: what if Ganaka Pit never happened and we saw a... younger, I suppose, newer version of Murderbot interact with PreservationAux. Having a governor module would probably fuck everything up, though.

But I wonder if this change would have made it less desperate to be seen as nothing but an appliance. It still would, of course, act like one, because that's what it's supposed to be, and it's not like a working governor module would give it much of a chance to be anything but. But maybe, somehow, in a different universe, it wouldn't be as opposed to being seen without the armor on. I wonder, if it was just this bit less determined to never show that it's more than an unthinking unfeeling machine, would the humans come to the realization that it isn't quicker? Maybe not. Probably not. The situation is still infinitely fucked, even more fucked if Murderbot is limited in what it can do.

But I wonder.

[shallowseeker]

I was thinking about your description of "Sam running Dean and Cas ragged" after the whole Jack-Michael debacle. I think you're right that it's a little sad that Sam is so wrapped up in his own pain that he doesn't allow Dean to rest. I like how you pointed out that Dean was wrung out from protecting Sam on wild-hair hunts, from worrying about Jack, and even being the phone to talk to Rowena on the phone. That's when it struck me. Sam wasn't checking on HER. She'd been a VESSEL.

OH.

Yes.

via @spnscripthunt-inactive

Is Sam checking on Rowena?

Charitably, maybe.

It’s hard to be a "good friend" when you've got your hands full and your mental health has crashed into the toilet. Especially Sam, who is legitimately, tragically... kind of bad at doing it in the first place. When the emotions get too overwhelming, it’s even worse.

(((Sam isn't completely alone in this: like how Dean "wasn't there for human Cas" or how a young, exploited Rowena wasn't mentally equipped to handle Fergus. Or how a stark, raving Cas "wasn't there" for Sam and Dean to clean up his own Leviathan mess. Or how Mary 'wasn't there" for her kids because she was spiraling over her FRESH-feeling grief and rocked by the apparent inevitability of hunting itself. Or how John wasn't there for Sam and Dean because he was re Toni: "going slowly mad." We can go on and on.)))

///

But YEAH. ROWENA. IT SUCKS.

I suppose we could assume that Sam has checked in on her. After all, just because we don't see it on screen doesn't mean it didn't happen.

But in Charming Acres, (script-) Cas doesn't invoke Rowena. He invokes the loss of the AU hunters.

Sam is spiraling mostly over responsibility. Autonomy and safety. The leadership is what his whole arc with AU Bobby was about in s14.

And Sam is so unused to taking responsibility for other folks that he just freezes into this awful paralysis type of emotional upheaval.

I think you put it perfectly when you said it makes him a little blind to Dean's and Rowena's Michael-vesselship trauma and Jack's soullessness/battle wounds.

He's even blind to Dean's need to eat and sleep… blind enough that Cas has to step in and put his foot down about it!

///

Sam is Spiraling over Leadership

He blames himself for bringing the AU hunters here, even though the AU hunters were a group effort:

///

Sam is racing towards hunting the way that Dean raced towards hunting post-Michael possession, in 14x03 The Scar. But the difference is, Sam's running is more like a MARATHON than a self-limited sprint.

Hunt after hunt after hunt: Sam's indeed running them ragged. We see here that Dean's struggling to even EAT.

//

Cas and Dean are used to having this kind of responsibility, and they're used to the weight and tragedy of it, and it blowing up in their faces. But Sam isn't.

Cas IN PARTICULAR is used to commanding an army:

In the aired episode, it emphasizes Sam not failing Dean and family, but the script gets to the proper heart of the matter and shows why CAS specifically came along to offer mentorship.

///

I think the loss of the AU hunters is tangential to Rowena in a specific way, though...

Facing the loss of those hunters ALSO means facing that it's Rowena who was the tool, whose hands were marionetted to do the act. It's a bit of an off-key parallel to Sam’s whole Gadreel thing with Kevin.

And Sam won't touch that with a ten-hundred-foot pole. ☠️

Because this time, it’s Sam who went for the "experimental-coded treatment," re: Dean. Instead of putting Dean in a box, he was hoping desperately that Dean could keep Michael caged...

...and now Rowena sees her hands murdering the people she had grown close to.

///

Anyway, I DO think we can extrapolate how Rowena looms large in the thick of this psychological wound of Sam's. However, I tend to think that Sam might actively avoid her vessel connection, as well as the "I see my hands killing them" connection.

Overall, I agree with you: it's most likely Dean and Cas who are checking on her in this era. It's Dean and Cas who are trying to hold down the fort, even with their own respective psychological burdens.

They take on more individual strain.

[ravenlly]

(Sun and Moon Show Theory #5: Ruin X His Roxanne, A Possible Tragic Love Theory )

Wow, it has been a while since I've made my last theory. It was also Ruin-related because I mayyy have an obsession with him. Anyway, this theory is one I've been thinking about a lot lately.

Anyway, in this theory I will be discussing why I think Ruin got together with the Roxanne in his universe. It might get a bit long since I want to piece together his past, personality, and the few things we do know about him. I'll also be adding sources/timestamps if I can and posting a more digestible version of this on the official discord lol.

So far, we know Ruin's dimension was destroyed by the Creator and he watched everyone around him turn against each other due to the virus and then inevitably die. We know he felt very strongly about this. Strongly enough for him to be willing to pretend to be a maniac for years on end to survive just to be able to eventually destroy 5,000 universes worth of evil Creators. Not only to save universes but also to avenge his friends (source: WHY WAS ECLIPSE MADE?!?! in VRChat, 5:38, though I believe was mentioned multiple times). Note that he sounds very deeply sad when talking about his friends, which is in contrast to how he sounds a lot of the time.

This means he was probably really close to the animatronics in his universe. Closer to them than Sun and Moon are to anyone outside their family I bet, seeing as he didn't have a whole celestial family in his universe like what Sun and Moon have going on in their universe. After all, Sun and Moon merged and there was no family drama to come. No Earth, Lunar evil Eclipse (he was the only Eclipse), etc. He likely got to bond with the other animatronics in the Pizzaplex and get to know them, making him become way closer than Sun and Moon are to anyone outside their family. Of course, this would mean he would inevitably interact with Roxanne Wolf.

Now, it's very crucial to mention, in our main universe, Roxanne was wanting to date Sun. Sun was also wanting to date her. In fact, he really, really liked her. The thing is, they were very, very close to becoming a couple, but then Eclipse came in and did that whole maternity chip thing just to spite Sun and then, on top of it, made it so that everyone (Roxy included) hated the celestial brothers for a good while. This led to Roxanne ending up with Glamrock Freddy (only for them to split up a few times and her becoming a lesbian) and Sun being single, not really ever having another chance with her. Sun also sorta convinced himself she wasn't worth caring about and seemingly doesn't have feelings for her anymore.

However, in Ruin's universe, Roxanne never had a maternity chip installed by Eclipse. Also, Ruin himself is a merge of Sun and Moon, and it is very likely that he could have kept Sun's love for Roxanne. He has shown an interest in her during the October takeover, which is the biggest thing that leads me to believe he romantically cared for his Roxanne too! (Source: please tell me when this happens!! I actually forgot, though someone brought it to my attention as well!)

Another thing I thought was important to mention is Ruin's mannerisms and intelligence. I think his polite way of speaking and his love of using extravagant language is something Roxanne (especially early on) would like. I can see him easily being able to think of ways to compliment her and give her an ego boost or just make her feel loved. It's safe to say he really had a chance with her if he wanted in that universe. I think he would've also been the perfect match for her.

In our main universe, Roxanne lost her self-obsessed nature over time and became more caring to her partner, who was Glamock Freddy for the longest time. I think the same would have happened for Ruin and Roxanne, since Ruin is intelligent. Maybe he would have seen her potential as well and seen her more than just pretty to look at the way Sun had.

The tragedy part would come when the virus happened. Roxanne would've been lost to the virus. From the sounds of it, it seems like Ruin only realized what was happening to the others a bit too late (source: WHY WAS ECLIPSE MADE?!?! in VRChat, 5:06). Which means he was probably scared and confused when the virus started infecting everyone. This would mean Roxanne potentially becoming hostile toward Ruin for no reason or maybe worse.

Another theory I had is that she possibly became the first to die. Maybe the virus itself killed her because she couldn't handle it? Someone has mentioned she has always been a bit vulnerable to that type of thing and it would suit her. I know someone had to have died first. When Ruin is in his cell in Parts and Service, he says to Moon that he should mourn with friends stating that it's beneficial, adding that he would know (source: Eclipse Wants to KILL RUIN in VRChat, 10:24). He's speaking from personal experience. This means he and some friends mourned someone he was very close to. What if that someone was Roxanne? What if she died as the virus started to hit before everyone else fully went insane? We don't know her fate, as it is never stated, and it's plausible.

If they were a couple, it would've ended in tragedy. He would have lost her somehow. Not to mention Gregory would've also died.

Ruin also corrupted his older memories. He also does not seem to like thinking back to the time where he pretended to be a killer maniac robot. Yet he has let Moon do other things to him, worse than just looking at past memories and usually has kept his indifferent composure. Maybe some things were to personal for him to allow others to see...

Anyway, this is just a little theory of mine lol. I think it's possible and likely and I'd actually like if it happened because it'd add even more depth to Ruin's decision to destroy 5,000 dimensions! If anything, it's nice to speculate on his past because there's a lot we don't know about him.

[things-stronger-than-fear]

the difference between coryo/snowbaird and anakin/anidala is choice vs inevitability. (and also good writing, if we're being honest.)

yes, they're both tragic romances where the man ends up Losing It and trying to kill the woman (trying might be a strong word, he gets awful concerned about her after) after drinking too much Fascism Juice, and yes, the man made those bad decisions himself in both cases, nudged along by childhood trauma and asshole fascist mentors. but the star wars prequels are presented as a tragedy of inevitability; the hunger games prequels are presented as a tragedy of choice.

behold:

+ snowbaird meets because highbottom forces coryo into it and the lipps force lucy gray into it; very much the product of human choices.

- anidala meets because padme emergency lands on tatooine and anakin happens to be able to help (and happens to have a high m count etc etc etc); very much a matter of fate.

+ "it's written in the stars" for snowbaird is in the context of "we saved each other"; it's their own choices that intertwined their fates.

- "nothing can be done to change it" is what's written about anakin's fall. plus quotes like "all things die. eventually, even stars burn out" and "the dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins"?????

+ the tragic sticking point for snowbaird is the sejanus betrayal; it's coryo who made the shitty decision to snitch and then lie to lucy gray.

- for anidala, it's the pregnancy; a product of their decision to bang, yes, and welcomed on padme's and, but clearly not planned.

+ coryo goes nuts because of pretty baseless paranoia.

- anakin loses it over possibly prophetic nightmares.

+ lucy gray makes the choice to leave.

- padme is taken by mystical elements ("heartbreak" is not a scientific expectation gdi).

+ coryo's fall was irreplaceable to the tragedy; another person couldn't have replaced him in making the hunger games what they are (see: they were failing under gaul's watch and we get scenes specifically showing that coryo's peers wouldn't have come up with the same ideas -- arachne didn't understand, clemmie didn't help with the paper, sej never would've contributed). one might argue that snowbaird itself was irreplaceable to the tragedy (would the same changes have been made if coryo's tribute wasn't a charming performer lacking in brute strength? likely not). every choice mattered to the history of panem.

- anakin was ultimately replacement -- we was the chosen one, yes (another element of inevitability), but anyone else could've done the same job as vader, especially since obi left him disabled, nullifying anakin's advantages of being the chosen one. (maul, dooku, grievous, ventress -- they were all just as competent as assassins, really.) the fall of the republic was inevitable. nothing anidala did could change that. (yes, it's all palpatine's choices, but he's presented as an inevitable force of the universe.)

+ coryo is born to a legacy, and he's judged by the sins of his father, but he's just a human.

- anakin is The Chosen One. no one blames him for the sins of his father, because he literally does not have one??? so they judge him on that instead.

anyways i am tired the point is they are two different types of tragedy and comparing them is FASCINATING.

[m1ndbrand]

ānogar hen issa ānogar - blood of my blood

Summary: What happens when you betray your family - your kin? Genevere Targaryen was about to find out.

Warning(s): pure angst, tragedy, death of essential characters, Shakespearian-like(warning in itself) kinda gothic ngl; i'm sorry

The sounds of metal clashing mixed with screams and wails echoed from the walls of the Red Keep, women, men, children, no one spared, the gods weren't merciful tonight.

The soldiers run to each chamber in the castle, entering without any ceremony and killing anyone in sight. One of those soldiers was different.

Silver hair glistened and moved like liquid in the moonlight, some trails of red ran free down his sword and armour. His face was hidden of emotion like he was made of marble, a statue, calm and serene without any flaw, but he did borough one flaw, at least for him - his eye, or the insistence of it, slashed with brutality, the maimed prince, the One Eye prince in all his glory.

This eye, however, showed everything his face didn't - a beautiful violet, burning with hatred and rage.

If not for the slaughter happening, this would be considered an ethereal scene fit for a Renaissance painting, a beautiful knight, with white hair and purple eyes, the perfect picture of a pure Valyrian, dressed with ornamented armour showing his blood and status.

He did not stop to look around, his steps firm and direct, his eye never moving from its target - locked in - he knew where to find her.

And he did. 

Standing still without making any noise he looks at her through the slightly open door, hugging her children that were bawling their eyes out. If looking close enough there was possible to see the sadness emerging from within his eye, but it was short-lived.

She rose away from the children and quickly, without him noticing, gives behind her back a goblet filled with some liquid to the children that were hiding them behind her form.

"Aemond"

He immediately looks into her eyes - he swears to the seven gods that he could still feel the summer wind on his face, a trace of a smile, trying not to giggle as they flew together, their tiny bodies glued together.

"Genavene"

She purses her lips together and feels her heart race, this time was different than the others, it was racing because of the fear of the inevitable, fear for her children. He takes a step forward and she shrinks a little but still stands tall.

Looking back at her children with glassy eyes she faces the silver-haired man again, with more posture, and her back straightens.

She could see the disgust on his face when he looked at the two children. The brown-haired little girl held her brother's hand like it was the last strawberry cake on the tray she loved so much like her mother, and the silver-haired little boy just kept crying as he finished the drink his mother gave him.

"You really think you could get away, sister" His words spat like pure venom. "He isn't even here, left you and your spawn at our mercy".

Toying with his sword back and forth he looks at the children that hide crying louder behind the woman. "let me just tell you dear sister - I'm no god, I have no mercy."

"Brother...please listen I-" his eye twitch and he lashes "Brother? Brother?! You don't even have the right to call me that!" The children start to cry even louder, scared by their uncle's wrath, they grab their mother's dress for dear life.

"You thought you could get away with betraying your family - your kin like that, bloody witch" he comes closer to the woman that just stares at him without moving an inch, his hand draws closer to her face and she gets ready for a slap. Instead, she feels his hand on her brown hair.

"Where did that child get the Targaryen hair, uh?" he twirls the lock on his finger "", it wasn't from your dear husband that - I'm sure of" snorting he looks at the little boy that still holds his mother's dress. Purple meets purple and for a second it's like he's looking at the past, in his chamber, trying new robes his mother made one of the best tailors on Essos to make for him, his reflection of complete boredom reflected on the mirror stares back at him.

His eye widened for a second as he finally understood.

Horrified, he looks at his sister and she is not meeting his eye, instead, she's looking at the empty goblet on the ground. He drops his sword and moves quickly to pick the goblet up. Smelling it just a little makes him immediately throw it away smashing something in its way.

Grabbing his sister's shoulders he desperately tries to meet her eyes, but she continues to look away from him, head down and defeated.

"No, Genavere please," he moves to catch her face, trying to catch her attention "please talk to me" his hands move to her face holding her to him, she finally meets his face, her eyes falling like she's about to fall asleep.

He's met with a minute of silence, waiting for her, for something, he didn't want to believe, he couldn't. The silence was too loud now and he finally looks at the twins. Both were on the ground, apparently sleeping, with their hands still united, the shock made him not listen to anything at all, not even the screams outside the room.

Kneeling he grabs the face of Visenya, he comes closer to hear her breathing - but there is none.

Swallowing a whimper that threatens to escape his mouth he goes to Baelon and checks for the boys breathing and nothing. The children were gone.

He stares at the two children, Visenya even as a child, could be seen that she was, in fact, her mother's child, the only difference was her purple eyes, Targaryen's eyes - definitely not that man's child - Baelon, the spitting image of him when he was little, even to the cry baby nature of him "no"

"Genavere" Aemond was kneeling close to the children, their children, looking at the woman he loved for so many years, waiting for at least a word from her.

She turns to him, agonizingly slow, and he screams for her to say something - anything! That it was a lie, that she did in fact betray their family, she betrayed him, that he was right to have done all those things to her and her children, that he didn't make her kill their children.

The only thing she did was close her eyes one final time and fall to the ground, a tiny whisper of his name went unnoticed.

Minutes passed and he was still looking at where her form was supposed to be standing. His face felt cold with stray tears, his eye unfocused looking at everything and at anything at the same time. Not thinking and thinking too much. His mind was in shambles.

He looks at their children and then finally at the mother of his children and he breaks down. Crawling to her he held her head carefully with his hands and got her body close to his, hugging her one last time, wailing at her hair, his face hidden, he looks at their children dead on the floor and he feels like the Stranger was at the window, waiting for him.

It is said that the place after all that massacre was cursed, the wails, and screams of Aemond Targaryen could be heard even after 100 years have passed, his soul trapped in the walls, fated to relieve that cursed day over and over again. He, calling his dragon Vhagar, screams Dracarys, killing himself as he burns the bodies of his family, as is the tradition of old Valyria.

There were whispers that Genevere was a witch, and before she took her last breath, she cursed his soul for all eternity. Their story is now a myth and a ghost story for all the little children in Westeros, of a father who, without knowing, kills his children and the woman he loved so deeply.