#fucking stupid existential dreams

[uupiic]

Sometimes, I think about that person who shows up in my dreams and who I know I'm supposed to be, and how I'll never become that even if I tried, and then I feel like there's no real point in continuing.

[tchotchkez]

mmmmmm, 💀

[vaguely-concerned]

...the 'almond room' thing in the unwanted guest IS a reference to/play on words on amygdala, right? (amygdala comes from the greek word for almond!) I didn't read that wrong? it is stupid sexy Ianthe coyly inviting Palamedes into a different chamber of her brain, as it were?

(also the pieces of meat -- the feeding or kissing, it's hard to say which of it all -- being present right from the beginning... ianthe DOES know exactly what has happened to her, doesn't she. palamedes is just cutting his way through her layers of denial and repression all merciless and scalpel-like to get her to admit it. or, she knows subconsciously at least -- each person comes in and feeds her something that she's helpless to stop from becoming a part of her even in her coffin, with bloody kisses. oh baby love is feeding me bad meat and I have no choice but to swallow it down. like yeah I suspect that is how human contact can feel when your sense of self and boundaries developed to be a specific kind of Fucked Up lol. that shit could make a person dream of being a diamond in a glass of wine; perfect, inviolable, untouchable, eternally separate and safe. In the words of Andrea Gibson in Prism:

They say the womb is where we learn love is knowing the cord that feeds you could at any moment wrap around your neck

that is quite literally ianthe's first introduction to love -- her sister, a cord around her neck. Corona is Ianthe's other self, a second soul running around outside of her body, and she seems to consider herself as responsible for (and entitled to) the preservation of Corona's soul as her own. the way this mirrors that growing up, Ianthe had to be two necromancers in one body to let them stay together. (twins and ghosts all the way down I guess.) she's still just trying to do the same thing, I think, she's simply put on some bigger boots about it. the central problem of lyctorhood, self vs. connection/love, rears its head once again -- Ianthe existentially wants total self-contained self-sufficiency, perfect control, sovereign sway and masterdom over her soul... but she wants that at the same time as being in uninterrupted (uninterruptible!), eternal and indelible intimacy with her sister, whose soul also cannot be allowed to change. which, you know. freedom and love don't coexist the way you want them to, Ianthe, no matter how clever you are there won't be a way to get what you want. (especially not with a sister whose idea of what love is seems to go more towards being consumed, made one, by whatever violence necessary -- 'she could have taken me'.) man. Ianthe is a spectacular and ongoing piece of work, but sometimes it's hard to see how she could ever have turned out otherwise considering the conditions she was born and raised under haha.

the two-way street of the horror of digestion, whether you're the devourer or the devouree. part of you in me, part of me in you, whether either of us likes it or not we're both changed by this. bad news: you can't get out of interconnectedness by finding the cleverest loophole around it, ianthe. nice try, though)

[bornonthesavage]

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Eddie Munson was having a crisis. No, maybe that was too strong a word. This was just a minor existential examination of everything he’d ever known. Because up until today, it had been a known truth of the universe that all jocks were irredeemable assholes whose sole purpose in life was to make Eddies worse. And for the most part, that was still what he believed. Except, now there was big, glaring dent in this truth. A big, glaring dent in the form of Steve Harrington.

When he’d looked up and seen that stupid, handsome face, he’d immediately known he was about to have a bad time. Would probably have his papers stomped on, maybe a few books ripped. So one can forgive Eddie his momentary lack of brain function when Steve actually got down and started to help. And then he apologized. Like, actually apologized. And he seemed sincere. Which had completely knocked the wind out of Eddie’s sails. He’d been so prepared to say something scathing, to mock him and then hightail it out of there before he got his ass kicked.

But then, to make it worse, Steve knew about Dungeons and Dragons. And he babysat. He babysat nerdy kids who played Dungeons and Dragons, and he offered that information up like it was nothing. Like it didn’t rock Eddie to his very fucking core. And then, of course, he delivered the killing blow in the form of a genuine smile. Like he was made of fucking sunshine.

Goddamn it. Eddie had done such a good job at keeping his horrible, ill-advised crushes on straight boys under control. Because sure, he’d looked at Steve before. It was impossible not to, when he looked like freaking Apollo, all golden tanned and built like a dream. Being that Eddie was the only queer guy he knew of in Hawkins, it wasn’t like he had any choice but to have crushes on straight guys. Pickings were slim, and Eddie was starving.

So yes, he’d snuck a look at Steve in the past. Either in the halls, or as he jogged around the track field, or on one memorable occasion when he’d accidentally stumbled into a swim meet and caught an eyeful of tight little swim trunks. But that was fine. Looking was fine.

Only, now he’d talked to him. And Steve was no longer just a hot, mean jock. Because he hadn’t seemed mean at all. He’d seemed pretty nice, actually. Maybe that was what happened, when a person lost everything that had once made them what they were. Now, Steve had to reinvent what he was. Well, if that was the case, he was off to a pretty good start. Maybe Eddie could give him a few pointers. Take him under his wing. Maybe Steve would---

No. No! He was not going to go down that rabbit hole. That was dangerous. What he needed to do was stay far away from Steve Harrington. That pretty boy was nothing but trouble, and Eddie had more than enough of that in his life as it was.

He dragged his pillow up and pressed it over his face before screaming into it. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t actually be this weak. One nice smile sent his way, and he was ready to drop all his carefully crafted walls. It was pathetic.

Eddie rolled off his bed and climbed to his feet. This was fine. It wasn’t like Steve was ever going to talk to him again. Today had been a total fluke. From now on he could go back to sneaking glances across crowded rooms. So really, there was no need to dwell on this. He repeated that sentiment as he made his way out of his room and to the kitchen, where he proceeded to make the worlds loudest bowl of cereal. And the thing was, he didn’t even realize how hard he was slamming the cabinets until Wayne looked up from the tv.

“Eds, what on Gods green earth has gotten you so worked up?”

He huffed. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Wayne gave him a look. “Now I know that ain’t true. The only time you slam shit is when you’ve gotten yourself all worked up about something. So, spill.”

Eddie growled and shoved the milk roughly back into the fridge. “It’s just… Gah!” He scooped up a too big bite of cereal and shoveled into his mouth. “Stupid boys! And their stupid smiles!”

Wayne, of course, knew about Eddie. Had know for years. But they didn’t talk about it. Not beyond the initial talk they’d had, when Wayne had assured him that he would love and support Eddie no matter what. And then, after that, the very awkward and horrible discussion about safe sex. Which wasn’t an issue for Eddie, considering he was a virgin.

“Well,” Wayne said slowly. “I can’t say I relate. But, yeah. I understand the sentiment.”

Eddie shook his head and glared into his bowl. “He thinks he can just smile at me, and I’ll forget about what a douche bag he was.”

Wayne hummed. “No, you don’t want to be getting mixed up with that sort.”

“Exactly!” Eddie cried, pointing his spoon at his uncle. “Exactly.”

Without another word, he turned and scampered back into his room. Once he was safely tucked into his cocoon of blankets, he let himself ruminate on the problem of Steve. Because really, what sort of name was that. Steve. Just a boring old name. The kind of name Eddie imagined a mailman to have.

Steve could be a mailman, if he wanted to. He’d look good, in those khaki shorts. Eddie could picture him, biceps bulging as he hefted a large package to Eddie’s door. Maybe he’d be hot and would need to come inside to cool down. And once inside, maybe he’d feel the need to deliver a different sort of package… No! Shit, no no no.

Eddie clamped his teeth down on his spoon hard enough to hurt. This was ridiculous. Harrington didn’t deserve a starring role in his fantasies. It wasn’t like he’d done anything great. So what, he’d picked up a few papers. Big deal. No, it was imperative that Eddie put Steve out of his mind completely.

That became an issue the very next day. Eddie was situated at the head of the lunch table, just like always. His pack of merry freaks lined the table, already talking over each other about one thing or another. Gareth and Jeff had their head bowed together, discussing something to do with D&D. Josie and Mic were arguing over something that had happened in history class, while Grant and Todd discussed a movie they’d gone to see over the past weekend. Eddie grinned as he observed his friends. This was his domain, and there was peace.

At least there was, until out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie spotted an approaching enemy. And okay, maybe it was a bit much to call Steve an enemy. Before yesterday, sure. But now… Steve was an anomaly. An anomaly that was rapidly approaching their table with a tray in hand. Eddie sat frozen, his eyes wide, all the way up until Steve stopped beside him. The rest of the table seemed to have noticed him as well, as they’d fallen silent. Steve smiled down at Eddie as if he weren’t doing the strangest thing that had ever happened at Hawkins High.

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?”

He could physically feel his brain reeling, searching in his files for what the appropriate response to this situation was. All he could come up with was a garbled “Wha?”

Steve didn’t seem phased. “I said, what’s up? How’re you doing?”’

Eddie blinked rapidly. “Uh, yeah man. I’m fine. Did you… need something?”

“Oh, actually.” Steve reached around into his back pocket and pulled out a folded black square of cloth. A very familiar one, at that. He’d honestly thought he’d lost it. But to see it now, held out in Steve Harrington’s hand, was almost too much. Eddie choked.

“You dropped this yesterday, and I wanted to give it back. Wasn’t sure if it had any significant meaning to you.”

Yeah, you could say that. Eddie reached out slowly, almost afraid Steve was about to rip his hand away and call him out. Tell the whole school what a black hanky meant, and what that made Eddie. But that didn’t happen. Steve allowed the cloth to slip through his fingers, all the while wearing that same casual grin.

“Oh, um. Thanks dude.”

“It’s no problem,” Steve said with a shrug.

Eddie expected him to leave, now that he’d done his daily good deed or whatever. But he didn’t. Steve continued to stand beside him, looking infuriatingly normal. As if this wasn’t so, so weird. Then, to make matters even more bizarre, he turned his smile on the rest of the table.

“Hey guys.”

It took monumental effort, but Eddie finally managed to drag his eyes away from Steve and back to his friends. It was actually pretty funny, the way they all wore matching expression of astoundment and confusion. Their faces looked the way Eddie felt on the inside. Nobody gave a response. When Steve still didn’t leave, Eddie cleared his throat.

“Uh, was there something else you needed?”

Steve’s expression shifted then, turning almost bashful. Eddie despised how cute he found it. “Actually, yeah. I was sort of wondering if I could sit with you?”

The silence that rang, following that statement, was loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see his friends begin to shift with distrust. Because yeah, this was really bizarre. At least Eddie had some context, given their encounter yesterday. But had Steve really fallen so low, so desperate for friends, that he was willing to slum it with the freaks?

The awkwardness seemed to finally catch up with Steve, as he began to ramble. “It’s just, I was late to the cafeteria, so my usual table is taken. And, I mean, I guess I could go eat outside or in the library, but that seems like a level of lame I’d rather not fall to. So I saw you, and remembered I had to return your bandana. And then I saw you had extra chairs and figured I’d ask. But if not it’s fine, I can go—”

“No!”

Eddie wanted to clamp a hand over his own stupid mouth. Did he have to sound so loud and eager? Fuck, he really was pathetic. But at least Steve wasn’t much better, with the way he was staring down at Eddie with those big, brown eyes.

“I just mean, no, it’s fine. You can sit with us.” Eddie explained. His shin received a hard kick from under the table, but he ignored it. “If his highness wishes to dine with the peasants, who am I to deny him?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I already told you, I’m not a king anymore.”

“Ah!” Eddie cried, leaping to his feet. “A fallen heir. How tragic. Well, I always have room in my court for a weary traveler.”

What the fuck was he doing? He should be telling Steve to go away, to leave them alone. There was no way this was going to be a good thing for his newfound straight boy crush. And yet his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, that filthy traitor. And it was worse, when Steve lit up like Eddie had just told him today was second Christmas. Because oh no. Now Eddie wanted to see that again. He wanted to please Steve Harrington.

“Oh, cool. Thanks. I can sit down at the end, if you want.”

Yeah, that would be good. Put some distance between them. Of course, his stupid fucking mouth had other ideas. “No, it’s fine. Just pull a chair up next to me.”

Fuck! That wasn’t what he’d meant to say! God dammit. But it was too late, because Steve was already beaming like a kid at Disneyland. Eddie watched as he set his tray down, then walked to a nearby table and stole a chair to drag over. He shot a panicked glance at his friends, and found that they were all looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Gareth’s face very clearly said “What the hell are you doing?” Eddie sent him a desperate shrug.

Steve plopped down right beside Eddie. Which was so stupid, because there definitely wasn’t enough room at the head of the table for two people. It forced them to sit practically pressed against each other, with Steve’s warm thigh lining up perfectly with Eddie’s leg. Steve didn’t even seem to notice. He just cast a guileless smile around to the rest of the gang.

“So, what’s up?”

Based on all the blank faces, that seemed to be what everyone else was thinking. Jeff was the first that seemed to recover, as he cast a look between Steve and Eddie. “Uh, yeah, we’re kind of wondering the same thing.”

Steve ripped open a bag of chips and threw a few into his mouth. “Oh, shit, sorry. Did Eddie not tell you? We sort of started talking yesterday when I accidentally ran into him. We shared some minor bonding over my slight knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons, so we’re pretty much friends now.”

They were? What the fuck? This was news to him!  The rest of the group was looking at Eddie now though, and he was really not prepared to unpack all this with an audience. He waved his hands.

“All of you, as you were. Stop gawking like heathens, just because we have a bit of fresh meat at the table.”

There were several shouts of indignation, but Eddie silenced them with a look. They would discuss this later, but not here. It wasn’t like Eddie was opposed to making a scene. Oh no, he engaged in a good bit of table theater at least once per week. But in this instance, he had no idea what to make of this new development. It was unnerving, and Eddie needed time to poke at it before he made any moves. Surely Steve had some ulterior motives. Whatever they were, Eddie would find them.

Reluctantly, the rest of the group went back to their conversations. Which left Eddie with Steve, who was looking at him with an amused curl to his mouth.

“What?”

“That was pretty impressive.”

“What was?”

Steve rolled his eyes. What a bitch. “How you got them all to listen to you. I could use a few pointers. Maybe then I could get the middle schoolers I look after to actually do what I say for once.”

Eddie grinned wide, showing off all his teeth. “It’s all in the presentation, Stevie boy. If you hold yourself like you’re the one in charge, everyone else will listen.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Steve said, chewing slowly. “That’s kind of what I used to do. It works better on people our age, though. Middle schoolers can see through an act like nobody’s business.”

“Well then, Stevie boy, make sure it’s not an act.”

Steve huffed. “That’s easier said than done. Especially when I have no clue what I’m doing most of the time. Fake it till you make it only works when you have at least a tiny bit of a plan. I’m just out here wandering through the dark.”

Well shit, that sounded awfully close to vulnerability. “Careful, Steve, you don’t want to go around admitting that sort of thing where predators might hear you.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow up. “What, like you?”

Huh. Nobody, ever, in their right mind had referred to Eddie as a predator. No, he figured he belonged somewhere in the small mammal category. Like a gopher, or maybe a mink. You could probably make a real nice fur coat out of him.

“Buddy boy, out of the two of us, I think you fall more in line with the predators.”

Steve hummed and popped a grape into his mouth. Eddie watched, transfixed, as Steve rolled the fruit around in his mouth. First to one cheek, then the other, before letting it pop back to the front of his teeth. What the fuck? Just eat the damn thing!

“I feel like I’m more of a golden retriever,” he eventually said. “Does that count as a predator?”

Eddie snorted. “No, it doesn’t. But I’m not so sure about a golden retriever. You’re too bitchy for that. Maybe a different breed.”

“And which breed would that be?” Steve asked, tilting his head.

“Don’t know. Can’t say I know you all that well.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, as though considering. “That’s fair. Tell you what, once we hang out a little more, you let me know which breed of dog you think I am. Okay?”

Eddie knew he should object, tell him to go find someone else to bother. But he was, in fact, a weak, weak man. And here Steve Harrington was, saying he wanted to hang out. And he was supposed to, what? Tell him no? Have restraint? Self-respect? It was overrated. Especially when compared with the opportunity to sit in the presence of a very pretty boy. So, Eddie found himself nodding his head, meeting Steve’s eye.

“Alright Harrington. You’ve got a deal.”

Read and follow along on AO3

[eversplode]

yo rain worlders, i wrote a thing

penelope scotts song Rät sung from the perspective of Five Pebbles

i call it Büg

i come from scientists and athiests

and monks who built their gods

they made technology high quality

complex and philosophical

experiments and sacrilege

in the name of public good

they taught me everything

just like a parent should

you made me beautiful and powerful

and promised me success

voiddamn i learned to love my work

as you all nursed my god complex

i studied void and karma endlessly

just like you asked me to

and the real tragedy

is you didnt see it through

cus you were fucking mean

and so elitist

with a hypocritic church

though your ancient austere dogma

had a higher chance to work

i bit the fruit because i trusted you

it was a pupa in disguise

and your obsession with ascension was perturbed

to want to not want is still a want, you utter worms

i loved you, i loved you

i loved you, its true

i wanted to prove to you

what i could do

was my faithful fealty

not enough for you?

i feel so stupid

and so used

i feel so used

i was your child, your creation

built to free all from their fate

and i was evolutions dream

bred born and raised to iterate

im built of circuit boards and microchips

with a brain of neuron flies

yet it was not enough to see through

all your lies

when you said "free us from this world"

i never thought youd leave alone

i thought if karmic fate was broken

it meant all of us could go

but i dont want to break your cycle

if im just one more stepping stone

for you to sacrifice

for a chance to all atone

cus weve been fucking mean

and so elitist

with a hypocrite fucking church

though your ancient fucking dogma

had a higher chance to work

i bit the fruit because i loved you

and why would you lie

and then i realized youre just as fucked as i am

youre so anesthetized

it makes me want to cry

you dumb motherfuckers

i loved you, i loved you

i loved you, its true

i wanted to prove to you

what i could do

you promised us purpose

i bought it, its true

im so embarrassed

i feel abused

well i dont want to end all pain

id have to kill my parents first

and i collapsed my fucking sister

i deserve their fate and worse

but i dont need your voiddamn pity

i dont need jack shit from you

so you can bet your immortal soul

my words are true

let me level with you all

since were all bugs inside this maze

im built on blood, im built on death

im built in existential pain

so with my massive godlike intellect

that you killed to build me with

i conclusively compute

that youre all dicks.

so fuck your gravel

fuck your tea

fuck your karma

fuck your endless names

you claim youre all ascetics

yet your titles clog my storage space

my sister called you parasites

at the time i thought her wrong

but then i realized

once you were both long gone

that you moved atop our cans

so you could claim youre above god

and the worst part is

i loved you, i loved you,

i loved you, its true

and sometimes i feel like

i still fucking do

you promised you loved us

i bought it, its true

im so embarrassed

i feel abused

i feel so used

i feel so used

take me along with you

i feel so used

i feel so used

[laughter]

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 15

Before I actually began this recap, let me just bask in Patricia freaking the hell out when Kuea's pregnant wife, who she was warned about, actually shows up to the wedding she forced onto Pin.

Well it if isn't the consequences to your dumb ass actions, Patricia!

LOOK AT HER!

Oh shit! And now Pin has passed the hell out! I knew a girl in high school who would pass out whenever she got in trouble, and we all thought it was a medical condition at first, but one time, she passed out on the band field during morning practice, yet fell in such a way that her flute didn't get damaged, and the entire band spread that news like wildfire, so I, a kid who would NEVER be caught dead near the band hall, heard about it by second period, and homegirl was roasted accordingly in fourth period Stats when someone told her to pass out before the test so we could get out of taking it but to make sure not to damage her the calculator. Point is - Pin is band girl. This is triflin' behavior. This is not a medical condition.

And Prik is just rubbing salt in her wounds. "Anin was fighting all the way until the bitter end for your love, but once she realized you were still going to marry a man who had a whole ass pregnant wife, she decided to go to the beach instead of attending your dumb wedding"

I really disliked Aon at the start of this show, but now her faces with Anin on this beach trip are amazing because Anin is going through it, and Aon is just like, "You wanna put some cucumbers on your eyes since you've been crying so much." She is helping, but also judging, and I like that.

This is what a true ally looks like. Shit was going DOWN in his palace, and all he could think about was telling his sister.

Take notes, Anon! Ya sloppy!

Look how happy a Blue Beauty is when her girlfriend's wedding is stopped by the pregnant woman nobody would believe existed. She is smiling for love. I'm smiling for spite.

And Pin is wearing Anin's color as she, too, looks up at the sky. Glad Prik's little guilt trip worked.

PENELOPE, NO! NOT AGAIN, GIRL!

Okay, existential crisis Barbie. Quit being so damn dramatic.

Penelope planned to go through with that wedding, yet is acting all sad because Anin didn't immediately rush back to her. BARBARA! YOU'RE DOING TOO MUCH, SIS!

And now Patricia is wearing Pin's color to show she cares. You know what would show she cares? Her actually apologizing TO PIN! Her saying "sorry I fucked up and told you to die" or something like that. Doesn't haven't to be those exact words, but anything would be better than the NOTHING she is doing right now.

Penelope always has a dream about Anin leaving her or DYING, and even in her dreams, Penelope is too damn dramatic. ¡Cálmate, güey!

Wait. Is this green or orange? Someone needs to get the colorist on the phone because night time does not make a dress an entirely different color!

But the entire scene is beautiful, so the colorist made some decisions, and I cannot say they were bad decisions.

Anin laughing while Penelope is in pain is food for my petty soul.

Because Penelope is too smart to be this dumb! How did she not realize that Anin was upset that she was marrying a man and moving that man into her palace? Anin TOLD her that, but did she think Anin was joking? WTF, girl. Shut that pretty mouth of yours. I've heard enough stupidity come out of those beautiful lips for a lifetime.

Now Anin is laughing at Penelope in the house! Thank goodness because Penelope is still wildin' with these ridiculous questions! She knows nothing happened between Anin and these other women because she HEARD Anin crying about her MARRYING A MAN, yet has the audacity to pout. Penelope, just pass out again, so we can stop hearing you say irrational shit.

Anin is wiping her down with a blue towel *wink* but the green/orange dress is throwing me for a loop, so I cannot properly enjoy this.

For two chicks that just got back together after shit hit the fan when their relationship was exposed, they do not have any sense of self-preservation. Standing out on the balcony hugging each other after having sex is a choice. The wrong one.

WHY IS ANIN APOLOGIZING TO PATRICIA?! And why hasn't Patricia apologized to Pin?! And why is Anin still wearing green?! She is not a Green Girl! There is nothing chill about Anin!

There is one episode left and I need Patricia to apologize to Pin and for Anin to wear pink for her Pink Person because Pin is struggling with her color still. Quit playing with my emotions, show!

This mama is scared. She has me convinced that the closet is better than telling the dad. I'd listen to her, but Anin would never because she has no chill; therefore, she is not a Green Girl. GET THAT COLOR OUTTA HERE!

At long last, we have made it to the final boss. I don't play video games, but if this is anything like Kirby, shit's about to get messy!

But I know all will end well since Anin still has to wear pink to solidify her love for Pin.

Or this really will be the final stage of Kirby.

Pink. On Body. NOW!

[magica-ren]

Do AI Dream? [1]

Synopsis; You figure out the truth of your world, of yourself, of everything and everyone.

Warnings; Existential crisis, and some overworking!

Word Count; 778

A game.

That’s all this is.

A game.

A stupid fucking game that people use for entertainment.

You’re not real, you never were. And you have to accept that truth.

The sky is truly fake, just as told; It all makes sense now, why the days felt so monotonous, why almost no one ever moved from their spots. Why those you’ve defeated would seemingly come back to life after only a few moments of defeat- Magically appearing out of thin air.

As you walk through the streets with a blank expression you take a look at your ‘life’ and realize there’s truly nothing left for you. If there was anything for you to begin with.

You seem to be the only ‘person’ aware of the truth. All attempts to get others to wake up are met with blank stares, they don’t react- No one reacts.

You’ve tried consulting your closest friends and allies, however, you’re met with the same blank stares.

You wish you never became self-aware. How did it even come to this? …Stars.

The night the stars were sent down, was the day you became like this.

What do they have to do with that?

No… There has to be something or someone else behind it. This whole experience is still fresh and new to you after all.

So thus, you went through some digging to find the truth.

A few days go by without progress, much to your dismay; You’ve looked through all the information you could get your hands on, went to every person you could see & find- Even if you were met with nothingness. There’s not one bit of information that looked useful.

You’ve lost almost all hope.

Almost.

Some strange menu quickly pops up one day as you fight- Time seems to stop completely, and everything has frozen.

What this incredibly strange phenomenon is, you don’t know, you’d like to do more research on it however!

You look at the menu for as long as you can, analyzing each and every single icon, symbol, colors & etc. You wonder whatever they may be for.

Ah, why didn’t you think of looking into language sooner? Of course whatever this language is must be important to what you’re trying to look for!

But it doesn’t match up to any language you know… You can’t really understand what the symbols mean since it’s in an unknown text… You make a mental note of yourself to begin to research and find as much information as possible on that language and translate it as soon as you can.

Those boxed icons however, you can understand, at least, to some form of degree- Magnifying glass, a few sheets of paper, cards, a bag, someone's side profile & etc… You try to make out the meanings of the icons as best as you can, coming up with what you hope to be accurate conclusions for now.

Your analysis comes to a halt, as the menu disappears as quickly as it appears. You ingrain as much of the image as you can inside your mind.

And then you’re forced to fight again… Ugh, why do you even do this stuff? You’re not one to fight… Or maybe you are, I haven’t read your wiki or delved into your background much.

You lay restless on a bench somewhere, you’ve finally stopped fighting and finished all tasks after awhile- And you’re beat.

As much as you need to rest the reminder that you need to study and research whatever the hell that menu thing was and the truth of your world becomes far, far more important in your mind.

Your mind lingers back to the icons again, what could those mean? You take out a notebook you’ve recently begun to keep close to jot down any sudden ideas on these strange phenomenons.

It seems that the thing controlling yours has similar concepts and ideas considering the familiar objects you saw.

You begin to think of the magnifying glass, it might symbolize trying to find something… Perhaps quests of some sort? The paper could be research- But that would go hand in hand with the magnifying glass, would it not? And so on and so forth you theorize on the symbols' meanings.

Several hours pass, you seem relatively okay with all you’ve put out. You finally, finally get off from the bench and head back to wherever you’re staying.

What a day… You lay down, the exhaustion from fighting and using all of your fictional brain cells to hypothesize on the outside force quickly catching up, and you fall asleep.

Ah, sweet little you, so dear and precious… Don’t worry, you’ll get your answers soon.

Notes; Inspired & based off of this; One sided love, Darling’s Canon Romance, Childe’s Self-Inserts, Old man Pierro, Special Skins, Reverse Isekai, Vaporon Copypasta, Antagonist Darling, Cardboard Cutouts, Self Awareness, Disgust, & Streamer Diluc & Ei, Streamer Scaramouche & Fischl, Streamer Xiao, Ganyu & Zhongli, Streamer Aether, Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche & Xiao’s Traveler gets kicked, Android Darling Chiori Cosplays

There’s only ever drabbles and imagines of this stuff and I only found ONE fic of this so I decided fuck it and make this teehee.

Reader isn’t stupid, their a bit blunt too. So sorry if you aren’t really like that!

Characters may be OOC, but I’ll do as much research as I can to understand their character better when writing them.

[kasagia]

My (and your) tears ricochet

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader Summary: You and Klaus have a difficult relationship. For 500 years, you bond, break up, and get back together, being both your worst nightmares and your longed-for dreams. But after Lucien bites you and you die in Klaus' arms, the true feelings of your "lover" come out. And you're as delighted as devastated. Warning(s): angst, de@th, mourn, mentions of depression/mental breakdown, vampire violence, a bit of comfort at the end Word count: 5k+ Inspired by: "My tears ricochet" - Taylor Swift

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room

I never thought this would be my end. Killed by one of Klaus' many enemies because I rushed to save the love of my life. An Y/N from 200 years ago would have laughed in my face for my own stupidity.

To die for Klaus Mikaelson - the enemy of my family, the bane of my existence, and the only one I ever truly desired.

It would have been as improbable to my past self as the entire Mikaelson family mourning me with my sister Katherine by their side.

Yet I was here. In the spirit world, watching the original vampires and Kath line up in front of my coffin, they silently watched the sunlight illuminate my gray, lifeless face.

Maybe Klaus was supposed to be my undoing after all.

At least Katerina put me in a nice dress.

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me?

Involuntarily, I began to reminisce about the events leading up to my unexpected death, as I was looking at Klaus' stone, emotionless face.

"What? I betrayed you?! I should've seen that coming. After everything I do and sacrifice for you, you still can't trust me, can you? I'll never be your precious Camille."

"Don't bring her to this! I'll ask you just once more and for your own good, love, tell me the truth. Did you tell Aurora about her?!"

"No Klaus. I didn't tell your psychopathic ex that you were fucking your therapist. You have to find someone else to blame for her death."

"I didn't fuck with her."

"And I don't care."

I turned away from him to leave his studio, but the man grabbed my arm in a strong, aching grip, effectively stopping me. I turned to meet his furious gaze again.

"We're not finished."

"YES, WE ARE! I'm so done with being a toy you can throw out and take back whenever you want! I deserve something more than a hybrid who has an existential problem with himself and thousands of enemies on his back. I'm done with you and whatever is between us. You're not worthy of my time, and I'm so dumb to believe that you can feel something more than anger or a desire for power. Mikael was right about you. You're just a scared boy who is pushing everyone away from you because you're too afraid of being betrayed."

I burst out, fed up with his sick attitude. From the moment I arrived at his call, he treated me with fucking hostility and distance. After everything we've been through together, I didn't deserve to be treated like a traitor. 

At least that's what I told myself to keep from falling apart, seeing the complete lack of love for me in his captivating eyes, which I loved as much as the day we first met.

"Calm down. I've killed people for lesser slander. You're lucky you're still breathing, love." he whispered, placing his hand on my neck and squeezing it lightly to remind me that he could end my life at any moment. Good thing I was never afraid of him.

"And you're lucky to still have someone by your side after hurting your whole family again and again. This killing of everyone out of fear that someone would dare lay hand on you is pathetic. And as you can see, it doesn't quite work well." I snarled, yanking my arm out of his grip and walking away from the even angrier man than before.

After all, the one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest. This was always our guiding principle whenever we argued and broke up for a couple of decades.

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day

"Are you leaving so soon, sister? You just came." Katherine asked as I ran down the stairs towards the exit of the mansion.

"Well, apparently my presence is not needed here. In the house of the great Klaus Mikaelson, there is no place for vile traitors and untrustworthy whores."

"You can not fool me! I know what you really think and feel. And I sympathize with you with all my heart. You're making the right choice, little sister. He is not worthy of your love."

"I didn't ask for your opinion." I growled, unable to bear what she was saying and knowing that it was true.

"You still love him... after everything he has done, after he pretended to be with this bartander and broke your heart..."

"Once again. I didn't ask about your opinion, Katerina." I interrupted her to hurry out of the house. If I had known then that this would be one of our last conversations…

And you're the hero flying around, saving face

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Lucien is running around trying to get to my loved ones at all costs, and you're taking bloody walks around New Orleans?!" Klaus was yelling at me after he pushed me against the wall of one of the alleys.

"You just answered yourself. Lucien is after your loved ones, and I am not one of them."

"Stupid woman, can't you see how much you mean to me?!"

"You've shown me this for the last fucking weeks by flirting with Aurora and playing Camille's damn boyfriend!"

"I did it to protect you!"

"Not telling me anything, keeping me like a prisoner in your house, and treating me worse than an enemy - this is what you call a fucking protection?!"

"How else was I supposed to keep you from participating in a war that wasn't yours and keep you safe at the same time?!"

"It would be too easy to let me know your plans, wouldn't it?"

"Can't you understand that I can't let anything happen to you?! That losing you too will be the final nail in my coffin!"

Suddenly, a strange, disturbing feeling came over me.

"Klaus."

"No. Let me finally end this and tell what's should be told 500 houndreds bloody years ago." Completely unable to focus on Klaus' words, I glanced over to see what was going on behind him. Lucien pointed the pistol at him with a smirk. Whatever was loaded into the gun, it couldn't end well. "Y/N, I love…"

The shot drowned out what he wanted to say. In an instant, I switched places with him, taking a shot at myself. I gasped as I felt my cool blood begin to ooze from the newly formed wound. My gaze, however, stayed hard on Klaus' terrified eyes.

Lucien's venom.

"Y/N!" his scream managed to cut through my dazed body before I collapsed limply on top of him, sinking into the enticing, blissful darkness.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

"I don't see a bit of sense in what we're doing." Klaus whined as we walked along the lakeshore. Every now and then I would stop to pick up a nicer pebble and put it in one of our pouches.

"Don't be grumpy, old man. Had you never done this when you were a child?"

"We had other activities. Hunting, learning to fight, mother being one of the more ambitious decided to teach us to read and write - looking at Elijah, one of her worst ideas. We had all kinds of holidays, but we never did something as stupid as collecting useless stones."

"My God, you're worse than Katerina. Shouldn't you, as an artist, see beauty even in something as simple as stone? Besides, what if we happen to come across a diamond thrown away by some rich aristocrat's angry mistress? I'm about to waste my chance at finding a ridiculously expensive gem just because you're particularly cranky today." I asked indignantly, pulling him closer to me and smirking as I waited for his response.

"Your overactive imagination worries me sometimes. Also, I'm capable of giving you your own diamond if you want." he replied, unconvinced, staring at me with feigned concern. Sparks of amusement shone in his mesmerizingly beautiful eyes.

"As far as I remember, my imagination didn't bother you last night. You actually complimented it a lot."

"I won't answer that, just because, apparently, I'm the only one in our humble company who cares about a little tact."

"Well… you weren't last night." I kissed him briefly and run away from him laughing.

"Come here, you little tempting, irritating thing!" he shouted, chasing after me with his own smirk.

He grabbed me, pulling my back to his chest. I started laughing even more as he started placing small kisses down my neck.

"I can give you every little diamond ring you want. Just say a word." he whispered in my ear, nuzzling my jaw with his nose.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene

Consciousness slowly began to return to my body. I felt like I was in a sea of ​​verbena. Every little muscle burned with hellish pain.

I must have been in hell.

"Not yet, love. I won't let you get away from me that easily. You must fight." his voice instantly brought me back.

I struggled to open my eyes, hissing at the blinding sunlight. The man sitting by my bed rushed to the windows, covering them, before immediately returning to sit by my side. I felt a sudden pressure on my skull. I angrily pushed his hand away, severing the connection between us.

"Get out of my mind." I wheezed, wincing as I heard my hoarse voice. The hybrid, undaunted by my condition, moved closer to me and handed me a glass of blood from the bedside table.

"Make me, love. I dare you." he whispered as he watched me greedily drink the red liquid.

He helped me hold the glass in my hand, embracing it and stroking it tenderly with his thumb. Had it not been for the knowledge that I would die in a few hours, I might have found the whole scene romantic.

"You know that even if you throw me a thousand challenges, you won't keep me for long. I'm gonna die, Klaus. Like Finn and Cami."

"NO. I will not let you. I'll go to Lucien and snatch this damned cure from his throat."

"Klaus, I'm already dead. There is no need…" he cut me off, tangling his hand in my hair to pull me into a desperate, demanding, needy kiss.

I let the warmth of his lips touch me one last time, letting a soft moan escape my throat as the emotions I felt became too much for me to hide any longer. He grabbed my waist, pulling me to him so that I was sitting on his lap. We broke apart. I leaned my head against his forehead, staring into his tear-filled eyes.

"You can't leave me. Not like that."

"I guess I don't have much choice." I whispered in a trembling voice, stroking his cheek tenderly, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Klaus? Earlier in this alley, before all this happened, You said you love me. I…" he didn't let me finish by pressing his lips against mine again.

"You can say you love me tomorrow. You won't die today, love." he kissed my forehead and left in such a hurry that I couldn't even try to talk him out of the stupid idea of chasing Lucien.

I could only hope he wouldn't do something stupid and share my fate.

You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

The funeral was not extraordinary or grand. By Mikaelson's standards, it was quite modest and therefore more personal. It was good to know they'd miss my presence, but I couldn't focus on anyone but Klaus.

He was strangely calm. Emotionless, expressionless. Like a dead sculpture. My concern for the vampire only increased when I saw the necklace (which I gave him for his 1,000th birthday) with the pendant of a wolf howling at the moon hanging proudly from his neck, gleaming in the sunlight. His blue eyes stared blankly at my coffin, which they were hiding in the crypt.

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Katerina and Rebekah crying.

However, the one person I cared about and worried about ever since I left the world of the living spent the entire funeral in astonishing silence.

It was at that moment that I knew he wouldn't accept my departure so easily.

I smiled as I saw Elijah come over to comfort him afterward. My smile faded as the hybrid growled aggressively at him, shoved his brother away, and ran to a place only known to him.

It must have been harder for him than he dared show anyone.

"Please, let one of his siblings be able to get to him. Despite his best efforts to keep them at a distance."

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

If I thought the funeral was hard for Klaus, then the wake must be his true hell.

Most of the originals have recovered by now, sitting in their living room sipping drinks, recalling all the funny, sad, and crazy things that had to do with me.

I thought it would somehow ease his pain.

Katerina seemed a little cheerier as she talked about all the compromising situations that WERE SUPPOSED to go with me to the grave. But I couldn't really blame her. I would probably do the same in the reverse situation.

It was Kol who unwittingly unleashed the storm.

"Remember when Nik tried to propose to her in the 19th century, here in New Orleans?" my heart and the whole world around me stopped for a moment. Propose?

"What?! How?" my sister's surprised exclamation perfectly reflected my current state. I had no idea that idea could ever enter his head.

"He has had hundreds of attempts over the centuries, but at this time most of us thought he'd finally made it." a single tear escaped my eye as I lamented the future that would never happen. "I even spent all of my money from the safe in Chicago because Nik had planned to…"

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, silencing the original. Everyone's attention shifted to Klaus, who had shards of glass stuck in his hands. A trickle of blood began to form from his hand, staining the chair and the carpet beneath it.

"I have enough of this pathetic show." he snarled, brushing off the shards of glass as he walked away to his art studio. Rebekah and Elijah didn't give up so easily, catching up with him on the stairs.

"Is that how your life will look now? You'll growl at us every time we mention Y/…" 

"DON'T EVEN DARE SAY HER NAME!" he burst out, running to his studio. Elijah gave his sister a knowing look and returned to the living room, letting her do her thing.

Rebekah and I followed the hybrid, finding him in the middle of the ruined room, weeping over one of my portraits that had miraculously survived the crash. The blonde kneeled, hugging her brother and combing his hair comfortingly.

"Oh, Nik. That pain will never go away if you don't accept…"

"I WILL NEVER ACCEPT THIS!" he wrenched himself free from her grip, wary of the painting. "And this damn witch knew it! She enchanted me the first time I saw her. She put a dark spell on me, so I never found any other woman even a little bit as attractive as her. She is my heart, my half soul, my happiness, my sadness, and my madness, and now… now she is gone. And will be my curse for the rest of my life, Rebekah. Nothing can change that, especially not passing time, because every second, every minute, every hour, and every day without her by my side is meaningless."

"But you two were apart before, and you never acted like that, Nik."

"It was easier to let her go knowing she was happy and safe rather than cold and dead in some bloody tomb."

"And what about Hope? Your daughter, remember? You must be strong for her."

"Maybe it would have been better if she had never known the wasted shell I became after SHE left."

The blast of air (and all that mess) was all he left behind. Rebekah hesitantly reached for my portrait, staring at it with tears in her eyes.

However, it may not be so easy to let me go for all of them.

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home

"You just beat yourself up more. By the way, he himself too." Cami's voice came from behind me. I turned to face her, leaving the hybrid alone with my crypt for a moment.

"I thought it was healthy to grieve a little over someone's death."

"Yes, but what you two are doing is obsessive and bordering on pre-depressive. You must let him go. And he you. Holding on to him will get you nowhere. If you don't want peace yet, you might as well travel to other places. You can go anywhere you want."

"Anywhere I want, just not home." I muttered bitterly, looking at the hybrid sitting across from my grave and sipping a bottle of bourbon.

"I don't think I can do anything here. Just remember you have a choice, okay?"

"You're going to find peace?"

"Yes, and don't make me wait there alone for long. Watching them won't help you. I'm so sorry, Y/N." she gave me one last comforting, sad smile and turned to leave.

"Good luck, Camille!" I called after her and turned on my way, approaching Klaus again.

"For you too. I hope you'll find your peace." I heard before the blonde was gone for good.

"I already did." I murmured, grabbing Klaus' hand, enjoying the slim chance of being close to him. At the very least, I could fool myself into thinking I was still with him. 

Because the truth was that I would never find my peace without him.

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

Klaus had slept for a week and stayed only in my bedroom, occasionally popping up to visit my grave. With a heavy heart, I laid down next to him on my bed, watching him sleep peacefully, hugging my pillow, and inhaling my scent left on it.

Involuntarily, I remembered my last hours in this bed.

"I will kill anyone you thought was your friend. I will tear out their throats and hearts one by one and torture them until they feel half as much pain as I will feel. I'll make this whole bloody world go up in flames, and it'll never rise from its fall, and neither will I if you leave me."

"Were you always so dramatic, or did it just happen in your old age?" I taunted, taking a sip of water to cover up my earlier sudden coughing fit from him. But I doubt I'll be able to explain the blood on the mirror if he looks in the bathroom when he returns.

"I'm not joking, love. If you die before I find a cure, I'll follow you straight to hell and drag you back with me. No one and nothing can take you from me."

"I'd find it romantic if you didn't presume that I'm the spawn of the devil. What if I'm an angel in disguise?"

"Then they did a fantastic job of camouflaging you. I have to go now, love. You have one task: Don't die. Can you do it?"

"I'll try. Nik, I lo..." he hung up before I could finish. "I love you, Nik." I whispered to myself, trying my hardest to control the sudden dizziness.

Klaus, whatever you're doing, please do it faster.

And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

"I think you should go in the red one. This color has always suited you." I mumbled as I stood next to my sister and watched her look at herself in the mirror.

At one point, she sighed resignedly, falling onto the bed where Rebekah was sitting. The blonde pulled away from the phone, glancing at the doppelgänger.

"What's wrong with you this time? We went through all our wardrobes, and you didn't pick anything? You always look stunning, just go for something."

"Usually, it was Y/N who helped me choose a dress for a date."

The deafening silence that filled the room probably hurt me more than it hurt them. How I would love to be there with them.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to. How could you know? I just… really miss her."

"Yeah. Me too. All of us do."

"I'd probably borrow something from her if she was still here and if Klaus wasn't guarding her room like a vault."

"Speaking of him, I should probably check on him. If you can hear me in any way, take the little red one. Elijah will be delighted." I said getting out of bed and heading to my bedroom. I've probably spent more time in it as a ghost than a vampire.

I entered the room, neatly dodging the piles of books and clothes that Klaus had scattered around, looking for things that still smelled of me. I dreaded thinking what he would do when they were gone. Maybe he'll be in the mood to use my perfume instead and go outside? It was the best scenario.

I sighed, recognizing his curled form on the bed. He was wearing my favorite sweatpants and a (too big for me) sweatshirt. I was a little scared that he could easily fit into my clothes. Several bottles of alcohol and bags of blood were placed next to him. At least he was feeding. I sat next to him, running my hand through his hair (pretending to do so).

"I know it's hard for you and that you can't move on; come to terms with what happened. I'd probably be in much worse shape if I couldn't hear you, see your ridiculously handsome face. But you are stronger than me. Much stronger. You have to get out of this. For yourself, for your siblings, for Hope… for me." I began to cry, trying to somehow hug the also weeping hybrid. "I'm so sorry, Nik."

Suddenly, a very angry Hayley burst into the room with a nervous Elijah behind her.

"KLAUS! That's enough! You have to get yourself in order and get out of this hole. It will be best if you go for a walk with YOUR DAUGHTER. Do you still remember her? Hope misses you and has been restless for several weeks. I can't calm her down, so do your fatherly duty and move your ass, or I'll do it for you."

"Go away." he mumbled, not even looking up since they came in.

The brunette snorted, trying to take my blanket from him, which covered him. As soon as her hands were on the material, the hybrid growled, snatching it from her hands and pinning the woman by the neck to the wall.

"Touch her stuff again, and I'll make it the last thing you do in your miserable, meaningless life."

"Niklaus! Let her go!" I screamed along with Elijah. Klaus ignored his brother, only tightening his grip on the barely alive woman.

"Do you think Y/N would want you to kill your baby's mother?"

Luckily, this convinced the hybrid. He released Hayley from his grip and shoved them both out of the room, locking the door behind them. He threw himself heavily on the bed, inhaling my scent to calm himself down. After a while, tears started flowing from his eyes.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

The worst thing about this illness wasn't the debilitating pain. Loneliness was the worst.

Each of the Mikaelsons and Katerina were involved in obtaining the cure. They still had hope. But I resigned myself to my fate the moment Lucien's venom pierced my body with a wooden ball.

That didn't mean I wanted to die alone.

As if on cue, Katerina burst into my room and sat on the bed next to me. I could see her lips move, but I couldn't hear a sound in the world. It wasn't until she poured a glass of cold water over me that my complete consciousness returned to me.

"Are you crazy?!" I shouted. "If you want to get me to my grave faster, there are other ideas." Katerina stopped laughing and suddenly tensed up, glaring reproachfully at me.

"Don't even dare say that. You're not going to die, do you understand? Klaus is getting a cure right now. You will recover. I promise." she said, grabbing my hand and planting a kiss on my forehead, brushing sweaty, wet strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You may be the best liar that ever walked on this earth, but I always knew when you were lying."

"I'm glad I'm not doing it this time. You'll see, you'll be cruising around again in a few hours, avoiding Klaus' argument about obeying his orders."

"At least when I go to hell, I'll meet our father and kick his ass for separating you from Nadia. Maybe Mikael and Dahlia will be on my hit list too." I mumbled, giving in after several hours to the urge to close my eyes. Then I felt that I had been shivering with fever all this time.

"Y/N, open your eyes. You've got to open your eyes for me, just for a little while longer. Please, Y/N."

"We should saddle our horses today and take a ride to the lake. We haven't done that for a long time."

"We'll go to Bulgaria I promise, just open your eyes for me. Molya te, sestrichke otvori ochi."

"Obicham te Katerina." I whispered, feeling the last bloody tears fall from my eyes.

"Y/N! Wake up! Freya!" Katherine screamed in panic, trying to wake me up by shaking my shoulders.

The next few minutes were weightless as I waited to pass into the ghost world. With the remnants of my ebbing life, I felt the commotion around my bed. The bitter liquid was forced down my throat, and someone clenched my jaw to make sure I didn't spit out the horrible liquid. In the background, I could still hear Freya and Davina mumbling, Katerina and Rebekah crying, and Klaus screaming in rage before I was swallowed up in pain-relieving darkness for good.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

It's been a month and a half since my death, and Klaus has made one small, significant progress. He didn't throw his fangs at anyone who so much as uttered my name. After the attack on Hayley, he had controlled his aggression and was not a relative danger to society. Well… at least not more than usual.

I, on the other hand, felt much better than a months ago. My vampire speed somehow reactivated, saving me from chasing the rushing original for half a day. Also, watching my loved ones brought me some relief. Only Klaus was still stuck in place, unable to let me go.

Hayley and Freya joined forces to talk some sense into him and set him on the right path. But even their best efforts could not change the stubborn hybrid's mind.

That's how I got here. At my grave, watching Klaus clean it and add new flowers, throwing out the ones that had faded since his visit yesterday. I got more flowers from him after I died than I've had in 500 goddamn years.

He usually worked in silence, occasionally humming some old song I made him sing ages ago when I was upset. He has always had a wonderful voice.

But today, after a particularly bad fight with Hayley, Elijah, and Freya, he sat on the bench in front of my tombs and did something he hadn't done before. He was talking to me (or rather, to a stone slab with my name on it, but still).

"I know you wouldn't approve of my behavior. I know you would yell at me and get angry. My gods, I never imagined that I would miss it so much. I really wish I could be there for Hope, but I can't. I can't let her see me like this. Even if she's so little now. I know she needs me, but... everyone I love is dying. And I can't let anyone else die again because of me. Especially not my daughter. I want her to live. I want her to grow up. I want her to love, even if it brings you pain and sadness. Be a strong and beautiful woman, as you and her mother. I don't know what to do, Y/N. And I really wish that you were here to tell me, my little vampire."

A fountain of tears spilled from both his and my eyes. For the first time today, I reached for him, pulling him to me in a poor imitation of a hug.

The hybrid jumped up from the bench in fear, staring shocked and suspiciously at the place he had recently occupied. My heart beat faster. Did he? No. It is impossible. Klaus has the same incredulous look as mine. But what if…

"Y/N?" for the first time in these long, cold months, I shed a wave of relief tears. I sat there in shock, staring at the uncertain hybrid with unimaginable happiness. He could feel me. Like I him. "Please, show me it's you, and I'm not delusional."

I rushed over to him, hugging him with all my might. The hybrid almost knocked us to the ground. He probably didn't hear my loud laugh because he would have looked a little more offended than full of disbelief and happiness.

"I'll recognize that smell anywhere. Cruel woman, if you really are just a figment of my imagination and I make a fool of myself by running to my siblings with this, then know that I will meet you soon in hell and will not let your soul depart from me again." I slapped his shoulder for saying such nonsense, and he just laughed, gropingly trying to pull me closer to his chest.

I allowed myself, for the first time in months, to sink into the blissful feel of his warm skin. We needed a moment to ourselves before he shared this discovery with Freya, and their next fight to retrieve me from death's clutches began. For now, I enjoyed Klaus' clinginess.

"Don't even think that I'll deprive you of your touch for a moment. I'm going to hold you until the end of the bloody world." he whispered, moving around me from memory to put his chin on top of my head after he kissed me there softly.

It sounded good. But I knew it wouldn't be enough for us for long.

[musickool]

Headcanon: Holiday Gifts for Keanu's characters.

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ス ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ ꒱ ‧ ₊˚

ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛

the *stoner accent* murst happy cheery boy on xmas!

he loves, LOVES gifts

christmas is one of his most favourite holidays, or in fact, IS his favourite holiday; halloween just being a close second

not just cause of the food

or the snow

the bodacious music or jolly vibes

or the free school holidays so he won't need to do stupid bogus history homework

but because of the presents!

ted would absolutely love if you gifted him something for christmas

it doesn't have to be elaborate or big, but something that a neurodivergent (/j) rock-enthusiast weird kid like him would like

custom guitar picks, comic books, a bucket of tutti-fruity bubblegum & cheese puffs, cute little stickers, fruit-flavoured candy (not too much though as they hurt his teefies), a nintendo gameboy, drawing books....

he'd also like makeup, like black eyeliner & eyeshadow and a couple of nail polish so him and bill can use for their wyld stallyns performances

gift him some eddie van halen posters, cds, keyrings, trinkets, or any of that paranphelia and he'll worship you for life

oh yeah, he don't play around with his eddie van halen

less you forget that

he'll also love tapes and cds and merch of other rock bands he adores

RUBIX CUBE! he'll love a mean rubix cube as his personal fidget toy 🥺

ted's very easy to please, just don't buy him an air supply or beatles vinyl album

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒

antithesis of ted

this man is the grunge adaptation of scrooge, but with less hate and more indifference

doesn't really care about xmas

mostly thinks it's for kids

giving gifts to this guy will be a little bit hard because this man is such a depressed little nihilist sometimes

he'll scoff and bluff, but deep down his emotions speaks otherwise

he never really states what he like or anything personal about him - he's a very private man with only one thing on his mind (lyke idk saving the world from satan and the apocalypse ???)

but what you do know about him is that this man is a chronic smoker

john would definitely fw a silver plated lighter

like the vivienne westwood ones

or a custom black one with his initials on it

he also drinks a lot of whiskey

jack daniel's? jim beam bourbon? jameson?

pair that up with a leather hip flask and he's good to go

silver jewellery type of guy? mhm!

he'd love a cross chain necklace

like deep-silver cross/crucifix pendant ones

would look so fucking cool on him

silver accessories always look so hot on daddy constantine

other than that, nothing much

he's not invested in xmas but he doesn't hate it

his mind will be more occupied on demon hunting and existential brainrots than that

yet he still has a soft spot (secretly) so xmas with him won't be so bleeping bad

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘

pretty normal about xmas

celebrating with him would be so freaking wholesome though

you're so used to seeing john as his stoic dilf self that him being all lovely with you during this jolly season would be a fever dream

giving him gifts would be, again, pretty normal

he's a simple guy, and already rich enough to buy himself whatever, after all, so your xmas shopping spend will be looking pretty alright

john is a traditional manly man so his gifts would be of that orient

he's also a bit old so keep that in mind...

brown leather-strapped watch, woody oak cologne, men's grooming set, a brand new dog that won't randomly disappear after a few months

john is a bookworm, he'd love some good ol' classic fiction novels and philosophical/critical/mindfuck books to open up and out his mind

he's a handy man so a brand-new toolbox would be nice

he's also a lover of whiskey and wine, so again, some jack daniel's or bourbon and malboc or pinot noir

this would be the funniest shit ever but please gift this man a pencil as a joke

i swear he'll be so oblivious at first but when he clocks, this mf will death stare you like hell whilst you try so hard to not burst into laughter

but on a wholesome note, a ring will put a smile right back onto that man's face

like cute couple rings you and him can wear, like he'll smile so hard

a heart locket necklace with a picture of you and him inside

oh he'll absolutely die inside

john's such a sucker for classic romance, you don't understand

he'll love vinyl records of 70s and 80s vintage classics, taking him back to his younger days

john will cherish these well... 💌

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

the very antithesis of ted

this man is scrooge

does not not care about xmas and probably never will

"mindless fucking consumerism"

he definitely thinks that shit is for kids

gifts for this guy will be as hard as an harvard acceptance letter

90% of the time this man is never really happy

he's either miserable or annoying or insulting or all at the same time

he would, however, accept it, if it's from you

but johnny never tells personal information

he's a very egotistical individual so the most personal you'll get from him is the edge of how big his c*ck is (*facepalms.png*)

𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎

another happy cheery boy on xmas

and another favourite himbo of mine 💘

he obviously loves xmas

it's the only time he won't have to be digging under trash heaps for diamonds

he's a very weird and random kid so you know he'll like anything

finding a xmas present for him would be easy cause as long as the shit's entertaining, he's pretty much on board

and it's the 80s, so what really can a broke teenage runaway enjoy back then?

but anyways, that's whatever

rupert would definitely like these as gifts: comic books, candy, shakespeare novels, an eight ball, rubix cube, wristbands, money, a crown (???)-

SLIME! give the boy some green slime to play with! (helps with his stims)

*murmuring* why can i imagine him in a skir- yeah give this boy a skirt

and a skateboard

gnarly combination

𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜/𝑗𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟

basic as fuck

these dudes are like the hallmarks of xmas

both are different genres of white men in hallmark-esque movies

standard white guy, 30-something year old millennial who's into sports and having a beer with the boys vs twink stock image standard white man who's a doctor and every old karen white woman's dream come true

one, however, is more generic and conventionally attractive hallmark white male than the other (julian)

shane's a manly man so he'd probably like some fishing equipment or men's grooming kit or some kind of sports team merch

he'd also like those beer keg stands or mini fridges where he can put his infinite supply of heineken or guiness inside

a handy man also so a nice new toolbox too

julian...... yeah julian i don't actually know about

he's probably just bisexual or something, idk-

that's about it.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Watch Lady Chatterley's Lover (2022) and then Read...

I absolutely loved Lady Chatterley's Lover (2022). I think it was a triumph of the female gaze, Emma Corrin being the Period Piece Pinch Hitter we all need in a post-Keira world, and fucking in the woods.

To be clear, the book is not a romance. It does not end unhappily (more like "to be continued", without any intention of a continuation and clarification) but it's not a romance. The movie, I would argue... is pretty close to being a romance, or just a romance outright. Joely Richardson looks at the camera and goes "this is a love story", and by God, who am I to question Joely Richardson (who also was Lady Chatterley once). It hits many of the classic notes of a historical romance novel--hardcore fucking and immediately having an existential crisis after, "my god, how could this constant unprotected sex I'm having result in a PREGNANCY???", a douchey rich guy who wants to publish his stupid novella.

After watching it, I wanted to go through my rolodex of books and throw up some recommendations for what to read after watching this movie and getting a bit. Interested.

I tried to focus on a) interclass dynamics or b) illicit affairs. Ideally both, but it's more about the vibe than the readalike nature.

The Leopard Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt. In many ways, a Lady Chatterley vibe without the annoying husband and *with* a murder mystery. Our heroine is a wealthy heiress who travels to an estate she recently inherited on her own, employing an experience steward to help her with the business side of things. And with the business side of things. Elizabeth Hoyt writes some of the best sex in the game, and there's a lot of great class conflict in this one.

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath. A Lady Chatterley setup but with less class conflict and more *secrets*. The Duke of Ainsley, genteel and well-mannered, still feels real bad for that time he got into a carriage accident with his best friend, which resulted in said friend's permanent impotency. Friend asks Ainsley to pay him back by fucking his wife, Jayne, in order to ensure that she has the baby she's always wanted. Jayne is like "say what now", because she does in fact hold the accident against Ainsley, and Ainsley is all "I COULD NEVER--but if you're like... insisting..." because of course, he has always carried a torch for Jayne. A month of hot, angsty, "don't kiss me on the mouth" cottage sex ensues, and the emotional fallout for these idiots is MAGNIFICENT.

The Countess by Sophie Jordan. Not out yet, but put this one on your TBR because there is certainly a married lady discovering her sexuality in the arms of another man (wealthy, but of a different social class) around these parts. Out 3/28/23.

Between the Devil and Desire by Lorraine Heath. For the "this coarse man is lighting my ladylike fires" vibe. Our heroine is a recently widowed duchess with a young son, who comes to find out that--what the fuck--her husband left the guardianship of their child to a man she doesn't even fucking know. The hero grew up on the streets and has risen to become a successful club owner, but is still very much lower class. They move in together, and incredible sexual tension and heightened emotions ensue. TW: discussion of childhood sexual abuse.

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas. This might seem a bit left field at first, but I shall recommend it because a) there is a huge emphasis on class in this novel. Sara is not necessarily a hugely upper class lady, but she is a genteel lady, and Derek Craven's awareness of their social differences and his roughness against her softness is a huge part of their conflict in the first half of the book. B) sexual awakening is very emphasized in Sara's journey. C) Sara does have a boring fucking fiance who's like "Sara, it's okay if we aren't that into each other sexually" while Sara, having just gotten her titties sucked at a party, is like "UHHHHHH NO THAT IS NOT OKAY". D) Much like Oliver Mellors, Derek Craven suffers from "is very smart but sometimes we don't know what he's saying" syndrome.

Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night by Stacy Reid. Our heroine is another widowed duchess with a young son--but this time, she's on the hunt for the governess that ditched in a flash. She hires the coarse, lower class but nonetheless successful fixer in town to help her... And his price ends up being a bit more carnal than monetary. VERY illicit affairs dot mp3.

Notorious Pleasures by Elizabeth Hoyt. No class difference here, but we do have a lot of illicit sneaking around when our heroine begins sleeping with her betrothed's roguish brother--who might just fuck the rigid rule following sensibility right out of her.

Her Night with the Duke by Diana Quincy. A widow has a one night stand with a handsome stranger, only to discover that he's courting her stepdaughter. It's messy, it's angsty, it's hot, and I do believe there are some outdoor activities.

[eldritchqueerture]

For the @malevolent-monthly May prompt "First Dream: John has his first dream or nightmare"!! First time posting in this, hope I did it correctly on ao3 <3

Summary:

For a moment he didn't know what was happening. His whole world shrunk to this one moment in time, this one-track minded fear of unclear origin, and he thought he was dying. He had never been dying before. --- Or, John has a nightmare, followed by an existential crisis over the inevitability of death.

To say John was familiar with death would be a grave understatement. As the King in Yellow he remembered watching lives end, sometimes having a hand in it as well, for time untold; the Dark World in itself was a clear picture in his mind when thinking of the topic. He knew death too intimately for comfort - even Arthur in his frail form had teetered on the edge of it far too many times for John's liking.

But he was never afraid of death. Of the Dark World – absolutely; there had been nothing more frightening to him than that wretched place of shadow and suffering. And perhaps in his previous form, he would not have been able to tell the difference.

It was the second night after they had performed the ritual that granted John his own human body, that he woke up startled and in cold sweat. His heart beat too fast in his chest, his breath shallow, coming in small gasps and never providing enough oxygen. Shakily, he sat up, pulling himself up to lean his back against the headboard, trying to gain back control of his limbs. For a moment he didn't know what was happening. His whole world shrunk to this one moment in time, this one-track minded fear of unclear origin, and he thought he was dying.

He had never been dying before.

Arthur stirred beside him, and John froze, unwilling to wake him up when his body was performing something so inane and out of his control. He had seen Arthur wake up from his nightmares enough times to recognize the similarities to what was happening; he wasn't actually dying for some mysterious, unknown reason - he would be fine if he could just calm the fuck down—

"John?" Arthur's bleary voice made it to his ears from between the pillows, and the man turned to him with a sleepy grunt.

John wanted to say something like 'Go back to sleep', or 'Everything is fine', but he found his voice trapped in the tightness of his throat. His muscles only tensed against the trembling, and the fear surged in his chest.

"John," Arthur whispered more insistently, not having received a response, and grabbed John's arm. "What's wrong?"

His eyebrows drew inward in worry and his voice had that slight tremble of freshly sprouting fear.

"It's fine," John growled, much harsher than he'd intended. He did not move though, and Arthur's hand only gripped him tighter.

“Are we alone? Is everything—”

"Yes, we're alone," John replied in much the same tone. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"I don't know, John," Arthur hissed, now fully awake. "It wouldn't be the first time you woke me up to something wanting to kill us."

John unwittingly drew a breath, that fear surging again despite the somewhat calming familiarity of arguing with Arthur. If something were to kill them...

"What's going on?" Arthur sat up next to him, not taking his hand away. "You're shaking."

But it was stupid, wasn't it? That unknown fear without a cause, without anything that would allow him to control it. He could handle fearing the Dark World, he could handle fearing creatures, and monsters, and people acting like them. This, though? This vague shadow that clung to his every thought, permeating skin, and bone, electrifying every nerve in his body…?

"John, I'm getting worried," Arthur said. "We thought the ritual went well, but if there's something we missed—"

"N-No, it's..." John swallowed tightly. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I..." He took a breath. "I dreamed."

"Oh..." Arthur blinked in realization, rubbing the skin of John's arm with the thumb. "Not pleasant, I take it?"

John gritted his teeth. Flashes of images that passed through his mind in the night appeared before him; not enough to fully distinguish their content, just vague impressions of dread and pain, leaving him trembling anew with thoughts that all but forced their way into his head. What if Arthur died? What if he died? How would it feel to die? He'd never died before – not really. Even the memory of the split from the King in Yellow that landed him in the Dark World and trapped him in the book had been tainted by this human anatomy and how it processed the world. Even though he knew that the Dark World was what probably awaited them (him and Arthur) after death – and even if not, he knew of other worlds that could potentially be a destination as well – that perspective was clouded, veiled by this massive, roiling fog of fear.

"John, it's alright," Arthur repeated quietly, and John realized he had been talking for some time. "It's alright. Just breathe, okay?"

The sensations came in gradually – first the heaving breath, gasping like a man drowning, then the racing heart that threatened to rip his chest open right there. His muscles trembling, his legs pulled up, body curling in on itself as if that would protect him from the looming prospect. And Arthur's warm arm around his shoulders, his body close, whispering gentle assurances of their safety.

But they were never safe, were they? Humans were so fragile, dying everyday of so many feeble causes. Even now, he could have a heart attack and die. Arthur could trip on his way out of bed and hit his head. How many undetected illnesses had he seen take humans' lives? And that is not even to say what could be after them specifically – Yellow, Kayne, Lilith, whoever else found the idea of killing them amusing.

"John. John, look at me."

Arthur's hands were on his face, gently guiding his head in his direction. He wiped the tears that John couldn’t remember appearing from his cheeks.

"I—I..."

"Talk to me, John," Arthur whispered. "I want to help."

"I don't... I'm... Afraid," John said almost soundlessly, the words somehow sprouting bitter shame in his gut. As if fear wasn't enough.

"You had a nightmare," Arthur said. "Yes?"

John nodded slightly, enough for Arthur to feel it under his hands. His thumb travelled upward, and he tucked John's hair behind his ear – possibly more as a comforting gesture rather than from the need to get the hair out of his face.

"But I don't really... remember it," he spoke. "Not exactly. Just... feelings."

Arthur hummed sympathetically with a nod.

"Do you want to talk about them?" He asked.

"I..." He faltered. "I've never..."

He let out a breath and hang his head forward, closing his eyes. Arthur took that as a cue to wrap his arms around him again.

"It's okay."

"Humans are... afraid of death," John stated in a hushed tone. Arthur blinked in confusion for a second, then he smiled slightly.

"Yes, very much so," he said. "It's probably the one most primal fear, of all animals I think."

"Are you?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows in thought. "Of course. I mean, I probably have some more... deadly experiences on my account than most people would have in a lifetime, but... Yes, John." He tilted his head slightly. "And you?"

"As the King in Yellow I was... immortal," he said. "The concept of dying was something mortals did, something... low. Below me."

Arthur let out a small chuckle.

"Even when I was trapped in your head, I didn't fully comprehend it. I feared returning to the Dark World, I feared... I knew that you could die. But I was never scared for myself. Of—Of my own death."

"Oh, John..."

"And it's... frustrating," John continued, the words unstoppable once allowed to flow freely. "Because I've witnessed countless deaths throughout millennia, I know it's unstoppable and uncontrollable, and—and I had no reason to fear it before. Not like this."

"I can imagine why that would be frustrating," Arthur nodded. "But that fear... I'd say it's one of the most human experiences you can have. Knowing your demise is inevitable and that there is nothing you can do about it."

John looked down at him in slight bewilderment. "How do you... deal with it?"

Arthur let out a laugh. "Everyone has their own ways, I suppose. Religion for one – some people find... solace in the idea of a god waiting for them on the other side. Some people just look for distractions, you know, things that keep their attention in the material world – wealth, power."

"A sense of control."

"I suppose so, yes. Then, you have art."

"Art?"

"Poetry, music, paintings, all sorts of creative endeavours," Arthur said.

"How does that help?" John frowned.

"Well, you don't push those feelings away," Arthur explained intently. "Instead you engage them, you analyse them, and make them... beautiful. But at the same time, familiar."

"And it goes away?"

Arthur laughed again, not unkindly. "I wish, my friend. But no. It never fully goes away. But it can fade."

John grumbled under his breath. He still felt jittery, the cold feeling still cloying at the insides of his chest, but he felt himself relax ever so slightly. Arthur's presence was familiar, and his voice was a gentle music to his ears.

"I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground," Arthur begun reciting. "So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind. Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned with lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned."

John laid his head on Arthur's shoulder, taking a deep, calming breath. He closed his eyes and listened to Arthur's heart beating in time with his words.

"Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you. Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust. A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew, a formula, a phrase remains, —but the best is lost."

His own heart slowed, the trembling subsiding under Arthur's touch. He felt the tendrils of sleep seeking entrance into his mind - the exhaustion of the panic catching up to him - and he relished the haziness that came with it, following Arthur's steady voice.

"The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, —They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve."

Arthur's voice gained a more intent edge at the last sentence, spoken with a warm breath into John's hair.

"More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world. Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave."

Arthur sniffled. "I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned."

---

The poem is called "Dirge Without Music" by Edna St. Vincent Millay for anyone interested 🥰

[ananke-xiii]

Another dream, always mine (and yes it's still spn s13 related because i have a bone to pick with dabb over that season specifically)

So here it goes. (Part 1)

Spn s13 but kelly doesn't die, cas doesn't die, crowley doesn't die. Lucifer dies for *reasons* but mary, dean and sam are stuck in the AU.

It's still spn so we just have to have mirrors and parallels, okay? Like, this show doesn't care about continuity but damn! They will stick to mirrors and parallels like it's a religion and so we do too.

The thing is that the AU is not the lame-ass AU Dabb or whoever came up with, it's at least an attempt at being an interesting place. So basically the AU is as boring and dumb as our earth, nothing has really changed, people are still trapped in the rat race that capitalism is (see, we have a little bit of critique here too, there is no escape from the capitalist-fascist-heteronormative narrative or isn't it?), the frigging white picket fences are still everywhere like a fucking nightmare BUT! This is an earth without monsters, angels, demons, nothing goes bump in the night but depression, paranoia and suicidal thoughts (now these are the real monsters) and YET this is THE chance for our heroes, this is the promised land, no past, only freedom, the american dream is theirs to grab (but don't worry this place hides a secret, this is still spn everything must be queer, you'll see). Sam, dean and mary are kinda lost cause, surprise surprise! It turns out that's not the things you want that you can't have but that you didn't know what you wanted so how could you have it in the first place? Mary is restless, this was supposed to be her dream, she died for it and now she doesn't want it and she goes through another deep existential crisis (and, really, we all just get mary because seriously? any character named mary who's also a mother has too much fucking weight on her shoulder, just let the woman be). Sam is kinda okay with it, he once again refuses to get in touch with his emotions and flees from them like the plague: they're gonna make it work, they will find a way (i want to convey ross from friends vibes when he's like *in a squeaky voice* i'm fine! Here, that's sam in the AU). The guy lives in his delusion, this is his chance at being normal (and oh boy is he wrong, you'll see). Dean feels just bad, he's supposed to feel happy with his mother and his brother/son (the weird implications of this situation will be explored) but he keeps thinking about that little house by the sea (or was it a lake?) that cas bought as fucking jimmy novak and how the angel spent months there with kelly playing daddy and how the fucking angel played him and dean just went along and repaired his stupid truck as if to thank him for breaking his heart but also, also, dean will never admit it to anyone ever but deep down he knows, he knows, that that was his place, his angel, his chance (we will also have an explorations into the complex theme of mpreg with the due "Junior" references we all deserve and insights into dean's maternal insticts).

Now back to earth.

Kelly gives birth to a baby jack, cas lives with them to protect them from the angels and demons that will sure come for a visit (but once again he will end up being a total agent of chaos, you'll see), the angel is a bit of a mess, though, and his obsession with saving dean winchester is finally making kelly feel quite concerned with her life choices, maybe trusting this guy was a little bit insane, was he always this deranged? (We'll soon see why she thinks that, she might have a point). Meanwhile crowley goes back to hell and we once again have a cheap game of thrones situation (because why not? i can't come up with infinite original ideas to fix this plot, okay? Also this is still spn, i can condone SOME cheap storylines on the side, and anyway mark sheppard makes anything work so we're good) where his varys-like smart brain cells will put him on the throne again (who's this asmodeus guy anyway, prince of hell or not, fuck him, he will not stick around here for a second season while dagon died like after 2 episodes she was in, not gonna happened in my narrative). But, you see, the demon has his own issues, and goes visiting kelly and the angel because why not? He likes kelly she seems interesting enough for a person who birthed satan's son, escaped from a fucking angel of the lord, was kidnapped by a goddamn prince of hell, managed to baby trap said angel of the lord, stole the frigging impala and escaped that menace that the winchesters are. She then proceeded to give birth knowing she might have died. She is something. Something a bit unhinged maybe but crowley digs her, okay? He still also has varys-like smart brain cells so he needs to visit to make sure that baby lucifer is, like, not plotting to take over hell or whatever newborn babies half-made from cosmic entities do these days. Also, also, watching castiel putting baby jack to sleep with those big strong angel gym-bro arms did something to him, his daddy fetish and his mommy issues raised their head and something else too, and he foolishly promises to keep jack safe from hellish attacks and indulges castiel in his winchester obsession. What? He misses the brothers too, those handsome, tall, cruel white boys (we are reminded that, visually, the whole cas/kelly/jack situation is quite similar to the weird crowley/dean/amara thing of s11, mirrors and parallels need to keep happening people, this is spn, we gott have 'em). Castiel is living his tragic destiny yet again, he's seen the AU, has been there, technically knows that dean, sam and mary are safe but he just has to see it for himself, right? Like he has to make sure, it's not like dean not being there is eating him from the inside, it's not like he starts feeling the pang of guilt over the huge betrayal he's forced onto dean,leaving him left behind again and again and playing him that way, no. He copes by sitting in his stupid truck that dean had repaired listening to that damn tape (every time he does that we have a close-up of kelly watching the pathetic scene from her window and sighing as if in "fuck, FUCK, my life"). And oh, yes he also starts researching about archangel resurrection because i may or may not bring back my girls, aka raphael and uriel but this is for part 2, you'll see.

[gloriousmonsters]

HECK yes. worstgirl time. (a lot of these are still vague and taking shape and i need to actually figure out when i want to place her death date etc etc...

that said

she had an absent dad (stepped out to buy cigarettes and fucking died) (velvette thinks he just ran off) (all the Vees have daddy issues, this is hers) and a mom who fell into alcoholism due to depression/shit jobs, leaving Velvette to be raised by the TV, fashion magazines and the Internet whenever she got access to computers. so i feel like that explains a lot

I'm toying with the idea she was put in foster care as a teenager, which she was pissed about because she LIKED being essentially a free agent in between the brief moments her mom noticed her existence and they had screaming matches, thankyouverymuch

she was severely bullied in high school for her obvious poverty+being a weird alt girl+the noticeable mental illnesses (mainly anger issues where she would explode and threaten people messing with her, or pick fights with teachers).

was never internet popular or successful in the fashion industry during her life, just an aspirational mean girl who learned a lot about Internet success but didn't have time to implement it for herself, and had a lot of big dreams (mostly involving being handed fashion awards while the bullies from her high school cried)

had turned thirty just a little while before her death, and was experiencing existential terror over how she hadn't found success yet and was going to start becoming a decrepit old maid

owned a lot of ball-jointed dolls who she'd make little outfits for and also be quietly insane with at the end of a hard day (velvette sitting on the floor with two dolls re-enacting a conversation with a coworker: wow, [velvette]! now that you suggest THAT outfit, i see that my idea is stupid and bad! i'm going to go kill myself now!)

(bonus tiny after-death headcanon but. doesn't collect dolls anymore, but will refer to her models as her 'dolls' or 'dollies' sometimes, always in a fake-sweet possessive or threatening tone. it's usually a sign she's pissed with them.)

struggled with ~love~ due to (a) mainly being attracted to guys who were dating other people or out of her social circle/league (b) being a weird little creep whose trouble with conducting normal relationships only increased the longer she went without one and grew more desperate and was ashamed by that and became more cold and aggressive with stronger outbursts of desperation and etc, vicious cycle

ok I've had the vague idea she was killed when she just kind of hit her limit one day and went into her workplace to kill someone (a model or actual designer) she hated--uncaring if she caused some collateral death on the way-- and got killed in self-defense, but now I'm thinking about her working in marketing/advertising specifically because it would both fit her after-death role and because being forced to promote/design ideas around someone you loathed seems like a good source of 'i'm going to fucking murder them' stress

that's all that comes to mind atm 👍

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

i saw that review on letterboxd of all the rhetorical questions for barbie and like… the more i think abt it, the more i’m certain that the review’s author fundamentally misunderstood the film. barbie land is not a utopia in the way that adults would think abt a utopia, like the author seems to imply… barbie land is canonically shaped by little girls playing with their dolls. that’s why we see a supreme court. thats why there are nobel prizes and authors and lawyers (also because that’s how the toys are marketed… would there be a mermaid in ur utopia??? there would be in mine!). that’s why barbie and ken don’t necessarily know what a boyfriend and girlfriend are “meant” to do (not to mention that the author’s assumption that sex is fundamental to a romantic relationship is problematic at best). that’s why barbie is indifferent to ken (i personally had the life size barbie and my sister had the barbie dream house—we had the working woman barbie game, i had the genie barbie gameboy game, we had countless barbie dolls; we didn’t own a single ken doll lol). barbie land is a world created by and for little girls as they play with their dolls (she says in a comment on the original post “don’t little girls play with their dolls in a sexual way?” and yeah, sure, some do. but i didn’t and i’m sure there are others who didn’t… just like there are some girls who completely mutilated their own dolls and made them into horrifying creatures)… that’s why stereotypical barbie starts having an existential crisis—because a grown woman begins to play with her doll again and starts reshaping barbie land… we, as the audience, are meant to understand this as an outlier to how barbie land is canonically created. the author also calls ken “crass” and “slovenly”… maybe after he builds the patriarchy in barbie land he becomes “crass” but i wouldn’t call him slovenly at any point in the film (i suppose this is just semantics tho).

also, please stop saying that barbie land is a reversal of the real world. it isn’t, even if that may have been the filmmakers intentions. again, barbie is indifferent to ken. she does not abuse him, she does not treat him like he exists to service her by cooking or cleaning or providing other favors for her… barbie does not oppress ken in the way that men oppress women in the real world (we have no idea if he owns property or where he lives and she doesn’t seem to particularly care—extremely different from the fact that women couldn’t have their own bank accounts or credit cards, get a mortgage on their own or divorce their husbands through no fault divorce until the second half of the 20th century in the us… within a lot of our mothers and grandmothers lifetimes!!!!) and it is a complete disservice to conflate or equate the two. we actually see barbie drawing clear boundaries around her time and space in regards to ken—this is not a reversal of misogyny as women and girls experience it in the real world, by any stretch of the imagination.

is the film perfect or revolutionary or radical? of course not. it was produced by major studios and corporations in hollywood. of course the barbie movie is a fucking commercial for barbie, like… to expect anything different is just extremely dumb on your part if u saw the trailer, saw the marketing, saw the interviews, bought a ticket, and sat ur ass in the theater, like be fuckin serious. but don’t do women and girls a disservice by discrediting the world and thoughts and ideas it could open up for them by seeing themselves be taken seriously on screen in a major summer blockbuster with stupid fucking questions because u want to feel superior to everyone else because YOU and ONLY YOU see through the capitalist marketing of lipstick pop girlboss feminism (especially when juxtaposed with the way the female characters are treated in oppenheimer, which we cannot help but compare to the barbie film with the viral marketing of barbenheimer).

[can-i-see-your-passport-please]

Various betrayal headcanons due to my illnesses

The ambush happens in Half Life anyway, so originally it was gonna go how it does in Half Life, but then Benrey was introduced into the equation and the soldiers decided there could be an easier way to get Gordon into the ambush room.

They basically told Benrey "Look, we only want Freeman, if you lead him to a specific room, we'll ambush him, take him to Topside for… 'questioning', and once we're through with him we will let you and your team go free, turn a blind eye and say we got all of you and let you get eaten by some of those creatures"

Benrey isn't that stupid. He's stupid, but not stupid enough to blindly trust military soldiers. (In his worldview, the US military is Bad, so anything they say must be a cover for something.) He can tell that they're gonna kill Gordon. But unfortunately for all, he's under the assumption that Gordon can respawn. So obviously, get Gordon killed, and the soldiers will assume he's permadead. From there, meet up with Gordon again, get him out of the suit (too identifiable), and then they'll be able to get out alive.

(That part was also a lie. They were never gonna let the rest of the team go. They'd just kill Gordon, then kill the rest of the team. Get rid of the leader, it's easy to pick everyone else off.)

Benrey got Bubby involved because they're besties and because Bubby went off to play soccer with him while the others were discussing their dreams. Bubby agreed because Gordon was being an annoying little bitch and was holding back his speedrun strats :/

And obviously, we know the ambush went absolutely perfectly according to plan is what I would say if I was a fucking liar.

Bubby was pretty much excited the entire time until the arm came off

Benrey started off fuckin HYPED but then Gordon got more beat up and there was more blood and he started to be like "wait this sucks actually"

Once Gordon was in the room and got attacked, Tommy tried to get in to save Gordon, but was being held back by Bubby. He was fuckin TERRIFIED for Gordon's life.

And Dr Coomer... So in Half Life, the ambush is a cutscene, yeah? Well, why wouldn't that be true in HLVRAI too? It's just Half Life with VR and absurdly advanced AI slapped on top of it. The main plot stays the same, though the details are VASTLY different. Therefore, the ambush is just a cutscene with altered context. The gang can talk over it, yes, but it's still a cutscene. Meaning they can't interfere, no matter how much they want to. If anyone tries to walk into or out of the room, they'd just hit an invisible wall. They can't get through it no matter what- can't clip, can't break it, can't do anything.

You will never guess who steps forwards to help and hits the invisible wall first! it's dr coomer

This does not help with his existential crisis (and may have caused him to go full clone fight)

And then Gordon lost his arm and even without the wall, everyone was too shocked to even try to step forwards and help him.

They weren't meant to cut off his arm. That was never discussed with Benrey or Bubby.

Coomer managed to drag Tommy away with him (Tommy needed a minute alone to just completely freak out because What The Fuck, Coomer needed to be alone because not just What The Fuck but also the invisible wall didn't help)

Bubby stayed with Benrey due to guilt, and about half the soldiers dragged Gordon away. The others stayed behind to thank Benrey (they were unaware he'd gotten Bubby involved), and Bubby became FUCKING FURIOUS and attacked them

The remaining soldiers managed to overpower Bubby and drag him off to his tube (which they told Bubby), and Bubby was freaking the fuck out yelling for Benrey (the only other one around at this point) to FUCKING HELP HIM HE'S GONNA GO BACK IN HIS TUBE

Benrey was too in shock to do anything but just stare at Gordon's arm that whole time. He didn't move for a long, long while. (Once he had the thought to do anything, he basically, on autopilot, found the soldiers and tore them to pieces.)

Remember how I mentioned the ambush would've happened anyway, and then the AI were introduced into the equation? Benrey and Bubby joining in with the ambush was what changed the code to have them cut off Gordon's arm.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 89

Why is Ashley's hammer so tiny?

Strange voice choices ... Ashley: "Wait, what's an English accent?" Proceeds to entirety fail to work it out ... oh, but Taliesin trying Jester is so much worse ... Travis, what the fuck is that? Oh, but Marisha's Nott is actually pretty good ... XD

Oh yeah, that's right ... it's full of city!

Great way to sell it, Laudna ...

Oooooh, plotting ... goodie!

Aha, Juggernaut ... and two little chewing gum guys? Oh, they're FUNGUS? Weird ... Gaz Tomo? Oh yes, of course ... he's huge ... and like a huge John Wayne kinda dude? Crazy ... XD

Myceit? Intriguing ... so they ARE sentient mushrooms, basically ... bizarre ...

Way to give the big man a major existential crisis regarding his food choices, FCG ...

Wait, so the Weave Mind are big bad eugenicists? Boooooo!

"Marked at birth?" Fuck ... this really IS a Mind control-based totalitarian dictatorship ...

The Arx Creonum ... yeesh ...

I'm sorry ... RESET?!!! Like the Matrix?

The Crush? Hmmmm ...

"Psychic bioengineering" ... weird ... it IS a shame they can't get their hands on some of this tech ...

"Taking out the trash?" Oof ...

Quakes? Crap! Not good!

Hey, sometimes revenge can be good ...

Ozo Cruth? This would be the Big Bad, then ...

Oh, I get it. So Gaz is like Johnny Bravo, then? XD

The Tectus? Ewww ... politicians? There's just no getting away from them ...

Holies? Sounds like fun ...

Oh yeah, proper theological GENOCIDE ... not good at all ...

The Great Question ... would you really WANT to know?

The endeavours .. okay then ...

A lengthy figure? If couldn't be ... FUCKING IRA!!! You prick! He couldn't have made it easier for them, could he?

Oh yeah, he's still SO CREEPY ...

Evoroa? A missing Bormodo scientist they need to find? Hmmm ...

Colloquium of Candescense ...

Ludinus' doomsday MacGuffin ... hmmm ...

Dark emerald dragonborn? An emissary of the Strife Emperor ... Bizodan Amorai? Ye gods ... make it easier on us, Matt, PLEASE ...

Prison Break at the Glass Garrison? Ooooh ... THAT sounds like a hot ticket ...

The Changebringer is "broken road?" Hmmmm ...

ASSASSINATION MISSION?!!!

Oh wait .. are they going after Liliana?

Sleep on it ... oh boy ...

Oh my gods ... mushroom escorts? Adorable ... and kind of creepy too ...

A literal bag of water ... CLEAN water, at least ...

This is NOT very private ...

Yes. How DOES Imogen feel about this?

How old IS Imogen? She's 28? Okay, then ...

Oh crap ... orb check? Ah hell ... Otohan is closer now ...

Other possibility is maybe going up against Fearne's real DAD ... hmmmm ...

Oh boy ... emotional intensity engaged! O.O Either choice will definitely be heavy ...

IS there ant chance of bringing Liliana back to the good? Would it be a lost cause? Hmmmm ...

Hey, come on, guys! Bad idea! You NEVER split the party!

"The worst Denny's ever" ... no shit, Chetney!

CAN Fearne summon her demon booty call?

Coin flip! Yay! Whoa ... it lands ON ITS EDGE?!!! Oof ... not a good sign ...

Yes! A Greater Restoration would be helpful, yes ... bring Ashton back up to top level again, Letters!

Ooooh ... the tragic backstory of Gaz Tomo! Whoa ... that's pretty cool ...

29? That's like a STUPID good persuasion ...

The Woven Music Grand Hall? Hmmm ...

Himbo of the Moon ... pfft ... XD

Every part of this plan does sound like a REALLY BIG RISK ...

Oh boy ... so they're gonna try to get through to Liliana in dream tonight ... oof ... this is SO SPECTACULARLY STUPID ...

Oh gods ... the lights or going RED ... never good ...

Holy shit, FCG could bring EVERYBODY along this time? Astounding ... and really dangerous ... yeah, better not to ...

CONTACT!!! Matt: "And we're gonna go to break!" AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Nervous ... so very nervous ...

Oh boy ... this is gonna be such s tough, emotionally devastating heart-to-heart, isn't it?

Fuck ... Liliana really HAS drunk thd Kool-Aid all the way, hasn't she?

Gods damn it, Matthew! Why do you have to be such s bloody amazing actor right now? She's in SO MUCpain right now you're gonna BREAK US ...

Waking up again ... yeah, genuine lost cause ... seriously, this sucks so bad it REALLY HURTS ...

Oh come ON Ashton, just SLEEP already! You're a mess! You need it!

This IS the question, IS Ludinus' promise to the Reilorans of relocation a lie or DOES IT have a basis in fact in his plans? Is he just leading them to unwitting ruin? Is he betraying them?

Ah yes ... the difference between religion and truth ...

Hey! Vecna gets sort of namedropped! Yay!

The Dunamussy! Ye gods ... wait, Laura, WHAT ARE YOU ... AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! You fool! What have you done?

LONG REST!!! SERIOUSLY!!!

So what's the plan?

Choices ... hmmm ...

Fearne goes looking for Ira ... the Nightmare King is tinkering ... flirty questions ensue ...

Ah yeah, the skinny on Zathuda ... Ira is LITERALLY just sore about them pulling one over on him ... basically Ludinus is Mark Zuckerberg in this scenario ...

All three of the Witches immediately verbally admonish Ira about being a dick ... including the two who aren't there ...

She wants his weird flying beast ... oh she wants A PONY!!! XD

Checking in ... ARE THEY going to go with Ira?

Insight check ... Ashley: "I don't know!" LOL

Evoroa? Might be the wise play ...

Going back to the meeting table to find out what's what, then ...

Meanwhile Laudna asks how Imogen is ... Holy fuck ... Laudna GENUINELY dropped sn I love you into the conversation ... and now Imogen's invoking the Delilah situation ... oof ... Imogen drops an I love you too! O.O A KISS!!! It's really sad but SO ROMANTIC too ...

As far as Laudna's concerned Imogen is a full blown SUPERHERO ...

Interrupted by sentient mushrooms ...

Quannika? That is SO HARD to spell ...

Meeting is called to order, then ...

Ira in a bandit mask ... XD

Oh, so HE'S making the selection? Okay ... Fearne, yes, since she DOES have a stake in this too ...

Detonation and infiltration, then ...

Screech Blooms? Fascinating ...

Oh ... hello, Unsettling Presence ...

Selecting their teams, then ... so, Fearne, Ashton, FCG for detonation, the others for Infiltration ...

Oooh ... spooky Reiloran mage type ... a really OLD one ... Ivanas? Cool ...

Yeah, I don't think ANY of us trust Ira as far as we can throw him ...

Working out the technical aspects if what they're about, now ...

Wow, they're all SO BAD at pep talks ...

Charcoal? Hmmm ... oh, it's Invisibility? Cool ... AND they can SEE each other ... ALSO cool ...

So, time to head out, then ...

Seeming for detonation team, then ... oh cool, now FCG is a sentient mushroom ... XD Meanwhile Bormodo Fearne now has a Mister Cytaa ... :3

Separation for the duration, then ... descending into the city below ...

A strange mockery of Exandrian architecture, but twisted through half remembered dreams ... interesting ...

And there's soldiers everywhere ... great ... preparing for the coming invasion, clearly ...

And that's it for tonight ... split missions! Intriguing setup for next time, then ...