#i am so fuzzy-headed and my short term memory is so terrible

[nocompromise-noregrets]

Rules: tag 9 people you want to get to know better or catch up with (or tag whomever)

Tagged by the lovely @chicotfp - thank you! <33333

Favourite Colour: Purple, especially the blue-toned shades

Last Song: A Soft Exchange by Elegant Machinery. I know nothing about them, but they pop up on my spotify on a regular basis because they're quite similar to Empathy Test, who I listen to all the damn time :D

Currently Reading: I'm about to pick up my German coursebook to start this week's work on the theme of Migration. Other than that, I haven't read a book in ages, being entirely without the mental energy and concentration, but I received the English version of Ari Väntänen's biography of Hanoi Rocks' drummer Razzle a few days ago and I am hoping to find the wherewithal to read it this weekend.

Last Movie: I can't remember. I'm sure I've watched one or two recently, but I can't for the life of me remember. I did rewatch the 2011 Three Musketeers and the LotR and Hobbit trilogies over the Christmas holidays, and also Still Crazy and That Thing You Do! on the evening of Christmas Day, but I can't remember any others since. Brain full, no room for new stuff, or most short-term memories, at the moment. :D

Sweet, Savory or Spicy: All three, but not necessarily at the same time (although sweet chilli...hmm...)

Currently working on: Working up the wherewithal to try and make some progress on one or other of Empty Vessel, Break You But You'll Mend or All I Want Is You. And, in about five minutes, if I can make myself start it, the first part of the Migration unit of my Open University level 3 German course.

Tagging: without any pressure, @verecunda, @theresonlyzuul, and anyone else who wants to do it! (I can't remember who I've tagged before, who I ought to have tagged, and who I'm mutuals with, at the moment, so please do excuse me.)

[stressisakiller]

The Verdict

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 11)

Summary:  It’s time to be judged, but like always, nothing is ever easy.

Warnings: refences to torture. Murder. and cussing

Word Count: 2k

A/N: A short chapter this time. I may end up rewriting this chapter and the last chapter, but we will see  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

Series Masterlist

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The trials began the Monday after you were saved from Hydra. All of the Avengers were being called in for questioning, which was ridiculous but sadly needed. Nat’s was the worst so far, as she always told you, she has a lot of red in her ledger but so did you. You knew that she hated all of the things she had done in the past and you knew having to answer for all of them was affecting her more than she would like to admit.

 Today it was your turn, to say that you were nervous would be an understatement but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge. Walking into the courtroom, you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. You wore a nicer version of your usual attire but you were not going to try to put on a show for these people. If they were going to judge you they would be judging the real you. You knew that you were a sight, with the bruises and cuts that covered your face and arms. You stared forward as you walked towards the judge, not letting anyone see how nervous you really are. 

The judge called you to the stand, you placed your hand on a bible, swearing that you would say the truth the whole truth nothing but the truth. You sat down at the stand and looked around at the people that had your future in their hands. Some of them looked nervous like they were afraid of you, but some of them looked calm, only one or two were openly glaring at you. You took that as a win. The questioning began. 

“Tell the jury your name and your affiliation with Hydra.” You stared at the prosecutor for a moment before answering, why did he look familiar?

“My name is Y/N Stark,” you heard gasps from some of the people in the audience. “When I was born I was stolen from my family, they believed me dead. I was raised by one of their lead scientists. He told me that he was my father and since he was all that I knew I believed him. He worked for Hydra and raised me in and around a Hydra base. When I was ten they injected me with the super-soldier serum that they had also used on Bucky Barnes. I was brainwashed as used as their soldier.” Your voice was steady as you spoke, not allowing the nerves that you felt to be evident.

“After they brainwashed you they sent you on assignments? Mostly to assassinate people seen as threats to Hydra. Is that correct?” His voice held disdain for you and you swore you could hear a twinge of glee as he spoke. Your brow furrowed momentarily, why does his voice sound familiar. Something about him struck a chord in your memories but it was fuzzy.

“That is correct, however, due to the fact that they placed me in a machine that they affectionately and accurately called the blender, I had no control over my mind.”

“Would you please tell the jury what exactly this “blender” did?” he seemed to revel in your discomfort.

“It was a machine that you were strapped into, a rubber piece was shoved into your mouth so that you wouldn’t break your jaw, and electrical currents were forced through your head until all that was left was a terrible blankness.” your voice slowly falling as you spoke, the images of your father watching with glee as you were strapped to it several days ago.

“So they erased your mind?” he seemed incredulous at the possibility, “then how, pray tell, were they able to force you to do missions?” You stared at the man in front of you in disbelief, you had long ago learned how to read the emotions of others, he thought you were lying.

“After wiping us, they had a series of trigger words that would activate the soldier that they had programmed into us. The soldier's main purpose and mission was to serve Hydra. They would do anything to accomplish that.” the iron in your voice seemed to surprise him, he hadn’t expected you to fight back. He thought that you would just roll over and let them punish you for crimes that you had no choice in.

“You mean that they had full control over you? Please explain.” You bit back your anger, you couldn’t let this man anger you, if he succeeded then your cause was lost. 

“Imagine being in a taxi,” eyebrows furrowed throughout the courtroom, that was not what they expected to fall from your lips, “you are in the backseat and there is a piece of bulletproof glass between you and the driver. Now imagine that this driver, driving like a maniac and hitting innocent people. But you, you’re stuck in the backseat, the doors are locked and no matter how hard you pound on that glass or how loudly you scream, you can’t make the driver stop. That is what it feels like for us when the soldier is in control.” the pain from your nails digging into your palms is what grounded you, the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew, something in his eyes was shifting, as if he was deciding something. 

“Well then, do you remember what your trigger words are?” his eyes seemed to glint in the harsh light of the room. You simply shook your head,

“I have never known, once I hear the first one all I am able to focus on is the pain.” 

“Let me remind you then…” a terrible grin took over his face as he spoke the first word. Pain. You were so fucking tired of the pain this brought and by the men that believed that you were nothing more than their tool. He spoke fast, the words rolling off his tongue in Russian and all you could do was clench your fists and wait it out.

“Ready to Comply.” The words felt natural on the soldier’s lips, always there, always ready. The weaselly man in front of you had the audacity to smirk at the soldier. 

“Am I speaking to the soldier or to the girl.” his eyebrow raised as he spoke

“The soldier.” Her voice was colder than yours, emotionless.

“Good,” he clapped his hands together, his smile widening, “I have a mission for you, kill them.” Her eyes snapped to his, watching his reaction as the soldier spoke.

“There is only one mission,” her words were clipped, eyes narrowing as she spoke, “you have no control over me.” He blanched, stepping back as if struck,

“I am your master, you will listen to me.” his voice was raised as if he was trying to command her by sheer volume. The rest of the courtroom was watching the interaction in shock, no one dared move. Bucky watched in concern but knew that this was your battle and he would only intervene if absolutely necessary. You and the soldier stared at the man in front of you, seemingly calm, but there was a fire in your eyes.

“Fuck you. Did you really think that I was able to escape while Hydra was still able to control me with words?” The fire in your voice was barely contained, as you spat the words at him.

“You are my soldier and I demand that you listen to and obey me!” His face was turning red in anger, a fact that you and the soldier found funny. 

“Bold of you to assume that I didn’t come to terms with my demons, I am both the soldier and the girl. I have been since the tattoo showed up, nothing that you could do to me affected me anymore except to cause me pain. Why do you think so many of your targets got away, or the fact that I never showed you any bodies? I am no longer under Hydra’s control, I have made peace with the soldier inside of me, we now have only one mission, and it has nothing to do with hydra.” your teeth were clenched as you spoke, fighting the urge to kill the man in front of you, instead you stood. “Men and women of the Jury as well as everyone else present. This man is Hydra, he wanted me to kill you, trying to use the brainwashing methods that they have used on me in the past. I am no longer the woman that I was back then. Neither is Bucky, the man who will be on trial before you tomorrow. We were forced to become soldiers and assassins. We had our memories and emotions ripped from us, in the most painful way imaginable. They placed words in us that would make us their puppets that we have only recently been able to get rid of. I was forced to cover my soul mark from fear of them using it against me. I was tortured in more ways than you can imagine I have been broken and pieced back together so many times that I no longer knew who I was until I was able to escape. I was forced to watch myself kill my parents and have no control over my body as I did. Yes, Bucky and I have committed a multitude of sins. But trust me when I saw that his 70 years and my 30 years under the thumb of Hydra, with no memories and no control, is enough atonement for those sins. But all the same, we will spend the rest of our days with the Avengers, saving as many lives as we can to pay for the ones that we were forced to take.” 

The whole room was silent at your words, all of them surprised by the confidence and power that you exuded. The judge called for the man from Hydra to be taken and put into custody and then called for the Jury to go speak and decide the verdict. You were allowed to leave the stand and go sit by Bucky, reaching for his hand as soon as you sat. No one else could see how much you were shaking except the man beside you, you just wanted this day to be over. You wanted to be back in Tony’s lab eating chocolate and drinking coffee while watching him work. The Jury was gone for an hour, an hour of worry and fear. They filed back in, the lead handing their verdict to the judge. He asked for you to stand.

“In the case of Y/N vs the united states and Bucky vs the united states” your eyes widened in surprise, they weren’t supposed to decide for Bucky until tomorrow. Hearing his name Bucky calmly stood up beside you. “The jury finds the defendants innocent of all charges. Due to the evidence that the defendants were not acting according to their own will. The jury states that no more action will be necessary as long as the defendants agree to remain as part of the Avengers saving lives instead of ending them”

He read out the verdict as if he was ordering a Sunday lunch as if it were nothing to him that you were now free. You felt your legs begin to tremble, almost giving out under you before you are pulled into a crushing hug by Bucky and then Tony. You were finally free.

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites

[borathae]

Hey... about the drabbles? Could you do one where you're supposed to have a first date with one of them but either you or he gets in a minor accident but has to stay at the hospital overnight and the other person is extremely hurt and therefore angry bc their (hard to get) trust was "used to hurt them" but then they find out and it's fluffy? And could you maybe do it with yoongi bc atm I'm so soft for him like 🥺 Thank you, love your work❤ ~procrastinating anon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff 

Warnings: low self-esteem, self-hatred, heartbreak, descriptions of minor injuries nothing major I promise, so much pain and sadness; but I promise the ending is fluffy and healing

Wordcount: 2k (I’m so bAD AT KEEPING THINGS SHORT jsjsjs)

a/n: I apologize for the total angst fest in the beginning jsjsjsj. This was not how I actually planned it, but I let my feelings flow free soooo I’m sorry? 🤧😂 also lisTEN I relate so muCH I’m so goddamn soft for Yoongi lately, this man owns my heart 🥺😭 I hope you enjoy this cute little drabble and I love youuu!  💜

Today you were supposed to have your first date with a cute guy, who you had been chatting with for quite some time now. Two months and six days to be exact. Min Yoongi was his name. Min Yoongi was currently working as a music producer, he was the proud father of a brown toy poodle named Holly and had a soft spot for holding hands. His hair was dark, almost black with the ends twisted in soft locks. His eyes, the prettiest eyes you had ever seen, made you giddy just thinking about them. Oh how many hours you have spend getting lost in them when you looked through the many selcas he had sent you.

At first you didn’t even want to accept his chat-request, too scared made you the thought of talking to someone again feel. Quite honestly you had terribly bad luck in your relationships – lovers and friends alike – you got cheated on, got used and abandoned when you were no longer of use, got called ‘not lovable’ and worse things you don’t even want to think about anymore. So downloading “the best dating app on earth” – so your best friend called it – was the scariest thing you had done in forever, followed by pressing “accept” on Yoongi’s request to chat and actually answering his dorky but loveable first message.

Yoongi turned out to be the sweetest and most understanding guy – person actually – you had ever talked to. He listened to your worries and told you without a hint of hesitation that he would love it if things would developat a speed you were comfortable with and that you can take as much as time as you needed.

He agreed on your terms to not rush meeting in person, because god that would make you practically have a full-on panic attack. That was the first time you had honestly smiled in a long time, rereading his message over and over again, you weren’t able to believe your luck.

Time passed and with it your trust grew. You were chatting on a daily basis with him by now, wishing him a good morning and waiting excitedly for his good night phone calls at exactly ten twenty every night. You felt totally comfortable with him. You felt safe to be yourself around him, even if it was just through the phone. You felt sexy when you noticed the way his eyes travelled over your features when phones calls weren’t enough anymore and they turned into video calls. You felt loved and you were pretty sure the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest every time you thought of him was love too.

So when Yoongi asked you if you wanted to meet up in person soon, your heart practically did somersaults in your chest. You had never typed “Yes!” faster in your life and judging by his quick answer neither had he.

The date was settled, two days from now you will meet each other in a little corner café. You couldn’t sleep in excitement, your mind was practically racing with scenarios of your date.

When the time finally came, you spend the entire day getting ready for your date, washing your hair, moisturizing every inch of your skin, picking out the perfect outfit. You showed up an hour earlier than arranged, just so you could mentally prepare yourself for finally seeing him in person. You were so excited.

One hour passed. Half an hour passed. You sent him a quick text asking if he was running late. He went online, typed and went offline before his message was able to reach you.

Two hours had passed since you came here. You quickly send Yoongi another message, asking him if he forgot about today.

Half an hour passed. No answer, no calls, no nothing.

Another thirty minutes pass and here you are still sitting at the corner café and waiting for him.  

Today should have been epic, exciting, remarkable, unforgettable. You were so sure it would bring a smile to your face every time you think about it. How could you be so wrong about that? You trusted him, you believed him when he told you he wouldn’t use you, you ate up his promises of support and comfort without as much as patting your stupid eyelashes.

You call him. It rings once then his voice mail tells you he isn’t available right now. He really rejected your call just like that.

So he just used you. You should blame him and be angry at him, but truth be told you weren’t. You were just hurt, so deeply hurt you have to look down your chest for a moment to see if you were actually bleeding. You honestly feel like you do.

Without any hesitation you block his number, block his social media profiles and delete all of his pictures. And just like that he is out of your life, your ability to trust is ruined for another year and your heart is broken.

Three days pass where your life consists of nothing more than crying yourself awake, forcing yourself to go to work and then continuing where you had left of in the morning when you go to sleep. You would have probably continued your daily routine if an unknown number hadn’t called you on the morning of your fourth day. The caller turns out to be Kim Seokjin, best friend of Yoongi who had stolen your number out of Yoongi’s notebook and who had made it his plan to explain everything.

Yoongi had gotten into an accident on the day of your date. The “idiot” – so Seokjin called him – walked into the busy street and got hit by a car because he was in the midst of typing out a message. He was lucky, nothing major happened. His right shoulder got dislocated and whilst getting thrown across the street he hit his head, resulting in a slight concussion. The entirety of guardian angels must have been with him on that day, so Seokjin said, the doctors told him such an accident results in death or life-changing injuries most of the times.  

As quickly as possible you are the hospital Yoongi is currently recovering at and find yourself standing in front of his room with shaking hands. Would it be awkward between the two of you after everything that had happened? What if you look at him and won’t feel the same warm love you had felt for him before?

A nurse opens the door before you can even knock, eyeing from head to toe before greeting you with a bright smile. It’s now or never. With held breath you enter the small hospital room.

“Yoongi?”you almost whisper, tiptoeing to his bed.

You have to take a deep breath when you finally take a look at him. All the feelings you wanted to push down and forget come rushing back into your heart, overwhelming you. You stumble back, holding onto the footboard of his bed.

He looks just as beautiful as he did through the phone screen, maybe even prettier if you were being honest. Even in his current asleep state he is able to take your breath away.  His eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted as steady breaths make his chest heave up and down. He looks so peaceful and calm, despite the white bandages covering the entire top part of his head and his right arm resting in a black sling.

Waking him up feels so cruel, but god, leaving him without having said hello feels so much worse. So you call his name loudly and gently tap his foot. He stirs, licking over his lips and swallows. His eyes flutter open. He mumbles your name, totally confused and still half-asleep.

“Hey”, yousay shyly.

“Hey, wow what a nice dream, these pain meds are awesome”, he murmurs, closing his eyes again.

“This isn’t a dream. I’m really here”, you chuckle.

“Seriously?” he gasps, surprisingly high-pitched for his normally deep voice. He sits up abruptly, hissing when hot pain rushes through his shoulder.

“Careful”, you rush to his side and help him sit up with a hand on his upper back, “you are still hurt.”

You sit down at the corner of his bed, careful not to hurt him.

“Yeah, for a second I nearly forgot about that”, he chuckles in pain, “how do you even know I am here? I thought you blocked me.”

You cringe at his words. So he noticed.

“Uhm, yeah I have. I, I mean had. I kind of had a slight mental breakdown when you ditched me at the café and I blocked you everywhere and deleted all of your pictures and basically locked your memory behind a big steel door in my mind and I swore to myself to never trust again.”

“Understandable”, Yoongi says. He takes your hand, squeezing it gently. You don’t even realise his gesture, too lost in rambling your thoughts out loud. It makes Yoongi tighten his hand around yours just all the more as a fond smile hushes over his face. You are so adorable when you rant like this and forget everything around you.

“But then your friend Seokjin called me”, you continue as if nothing happened, “and explained everything and now I feel like a total idiot for ever believing that you used me and at first I didn’t even want to come because I was too embarrassed, but then I started to miss you and-“, you pause to take a look at Yoongi.

A fond smile sits on his face, his eyes sparkle in adoration. Heat washes over your face as you start to blush vividly. You can’t even look into his eyes right now.

“I was rambling again. I’m so sorry. You probably think that I’m crazy right now”, you cringe, “sorry.”

“Actually I was thinking how cute you are right now”, Yoongi says softly, giving your hand another squeeze.

One you finally feel and one that sends in your body into complete overdrive. Your heart starts racing, your whole face becomes as red as a tomato, you stutter an answer but give up when you can’t even get out one basic word.

“I’m glad that you came”, he breathes.

You smile as an answer, squeezing his hand.

“It’s not an outfit I would normally wear nor is the location nice for a first date, but I hope that, I don’t know, it is still enough to give me a second chance?” he asks, almost scared.

“Of course it’s enough, it wasn’t your fault that you missed our date. I know that now”, you reassure him, making him smile, “besides I think you look cute in that hospital gown. I like the little pandas on the fabric”, you giggle, touching one of the dozens of animals on his shirt.

Right above his heart, you can feel it speed up underneath your fingertip at your gesture.

“Just wait until you see the back, because there is basically none.”

“Oh my god Yoongi”, you gasp at the mental picture of Yoongi sitting here with his butt all bared and naked.

“I’m wearing underwear don’t worry”, he laughs.

“What a relief”, you giggle, lowering your head in giddiness.

He pulls you closer to his body, making you scoot up the bed until he can wrap his arm around your middle comfortably and your back is rested against his side. You are careful not to put too much pressure on his body in order not to hurt him, despite your body wanting to basically sink into his arms. God finally being able to feel his touch, his warmth, his heartbeat is even better than you had imagined.

“Please stop me if this is too fast for you. And also I know you don’t really start a first date by kissing the other person, but-“, he inhales shakily, staring at your lips longingly, “-can I kiss you?”

“Yes please”, you whisper, leaning closer to his body.

His hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, your own cups his cheek. You are staring at each other for as long as possible, mesmerized by the other. Only when your lips brush over his and a gentle sigh leaves his throat do your eyes flutter closed and the feeling of his soft lips on yours drowns you in warmth.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep16: Rex and Weevil Do Not Understand “Rock Bottom”

Hey guys.

Hey.

So... kind of crazy out there, right?

Well, you know what they say. When life gives you lemons, you watch Netflix.

Anyway, Yugioh is racing down this canyon that should be going up alongside the 101 and through the middle of many cities. Don’t worry about it.

And then I found out the name of a card I haven’t seen yet and wow it’s a name.

I’m really glad that Rex Raptor, dinosaur enthusiast, has just no idea how to name dinosaurs and does so like a 6 year old child. Hornsaurus.

(read more under the cut)

So this episode is mostly about Rex and Weevil’s tragic backstory, and thankfully, it’s really not that tragic. We’ve had SO MANY bizarre and weird backstories under our belt, that to have a completely normal one is just...wild to me. They’re so freakin normal.

And on the way, our train just...

OK Train...anyway, I’ll do my best to show which scenes are flash back and which are not, but like bear with me because it flashes back like every other scene it feels like.

So Rex waxes long about that very short time in which he and Weevil were the best ever duelists in Japan (other than Kaiba, I guess, who they failed to mention in this flashback.)

(I used to have a very soft performance fleece sweater the exact same shade as Weevil’s jacket there, popped collar and everything, with piping outline. Don’t judge me, it was the 00′s, I’m just shocked that Weevil also shopped at Old Navy.)

(However I have no idea what’s going on with Rex’s three layers of clashing outfit styles that he has going on. A turtleneck under a thick button up jacket under an open fringe jacket is so much of a 90′s vibe.)

Up until now, bro has been PRETTY SURE every episode that Rex and Weevil are originally from America. I don’t know how I feel about being so right on the money about this one when the episode outright said that they’re from Japan. I don’t really want to out-Yugioh my brother, because at some point, I’ll accidentally let slip that in writing this blog I have accidentally gained all Yugioh knowledge, just like Noah did that one time when he was stuffed into that brain orb.

Just please don’t don’t ask me how this game works, I still have absolutely no idea.

Weevil and Rex had adoring fans in two-shaded polos exactly just like the type I used to wear in high school. But, their fans all left them the moment Weevil lost one single game against Yugi Muto.

Harsh. But granted, I feel like the people of Domino have rabbit memories and if you aren’t actively in the news every day because your blimp got abducted by sea pirates, then who the hell is EVER going to know who you are?

But youknow, Rex and Weevil are pretty sure that dodging getting murdered by Pegasus was actually their last shot at fame. It’s over forever. They’re done. Done until they beat either Joey or Yugi which...very specific, but, it would make you somewhat famous if you did that by simultaneously destroying the Caltrain.

And Weevil is like gunning for the King of Games title but...apparently no one in this episode wanted to mention to Weevil that the “King of Games” moniker actually went to Raphael?

That he needs to beat Raphael...not Yugi Muto?

Nobody?

Nobody feels like mentioning that neither Yami nor Yugi could possibly still be King of Games and that Weevil has no really good reason to be here? I mean it would save Weevil a lot of time. It would also save me a lot of time. We could just walk off this train and go back to what we were all doing before this happened, but nah, lets keep the lie going, because apparently Yami can’t bear to tell the truth, just like his host.

Waiiiit, isn’t Rebecca the King of Games because she beat Yugi in S1?

It’s the freakin Malfroy/Elder wand, it’ll be important in Ch 40 I’m sure of it. I’m sure they’re not going to just...forget...all of the people that beat Yugi before.

Man. Maybe that’s why Yugi is so hell bent on keeping tabs on Rebecca? Just to youknow...make sure she doesn’t tell anyone that she hella beat him that one time because otherwise Kaiba would have lost his freakin mind (again) that Yugi lost that title basically the same afternoon he came back from Pegasus’ island.

Also Rex and Weevil once charged for headshots and this makes them vile, terrible people for some reason.

Apparently this is a bad practice? I mean if you’re famous enough please charge for head shots, you need to make money between playing cards. Take it from this jaded artist, always sell out so you can save money for when you will absolutely get carpal tunnel.

Whatever. Back to Rex who is certain that he is not famous anymore because he lost to Joey.

S4 and still everyone is certain that Joey is bad at cards. Joey will just never be free from this.

It was beautiful anime food for like ten seconds until he did this. How dare. Literally though, how did he do that? Was that burger made out of potato chips?

Can we talk about what a freakin crime it is I can’t watch my Nick at Night retro shows on Netflix or Hulu? Like hell I’m going to get a third streaming service so I can watch and admire how bad “I Love Lucy” aged. I want to see how incredibly off-putting Fonzie is as an adult. But nah. Not even allowed. You can only watch Cheers.

Cheers. What am I? 65? Cheers wasn’t on Nick at Night. My Mom watched Cheers. Gross.

This show trying to convince me so hard that Rex and Weevils lowest point wasn’t when they were 5 seconds away from being set on fire and having their soul removed by Maxamillion Pegasus.

Like for reals, the lowest point for ANYONE (except for the Ishtars) on this show was when they were trapped on that island, without any camping supplies, surrounded by human skulls, Bakura pre-exorcism, and so many other duelists who were probably going to eat them had the tournament gone 24 more hours than it had.

The island that also had a basement that was entirely full of cultists who absolutely murdered a guy right in front of us.

Like when they finally got out of the island’s huge ass forest, their dinner included a soup filled with Pegasus’ eyes.

I would have gotten pissed on by like 70 stray dogs to get off that island, y’all.

So one of the best things about this blog is I don’t have to worry about the restraint of a.) looking professional b.) the fear of sharing my actual real deal opinion. Everywhere else I post, I can’t share anything. I’ve come to terms with this, and so I hide my hot takes deep, deep within this Yugioh blog and the only people who suspect my art rage are like...y’all in the corner of Tumblr who do not care about what I’m talking about.

++++++++++++THIS IS MY HUGE RANT ABOUT ART POLITICS AND ART BITTERNESS FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS. WE’RE QUARANTINING SO MUCH OVER HERE DUE TO THE VIRUS THAT I AM GOING A LITTLE BIT HOUSE CRAZY+++++++++++++++

But like MAN I need to mention something. Both Joey and Rex are completely off base. Both of them.

Like I’ll be real, because of the sudden extra time I have on my hands, I was originally ranting quite a bit about art culture and stuff and I will admit it was projecting somewhat onto a TV show that was written before the recession and the gig economy basically came and laid a huge dump across the creative industry.

However, I really, really, really don’t like it when people naively say “I’m successful because I did the research, I did the work, and then I got a following despite doing no marketing at all,” LIKE HELL YOU DID, DUDE. And there’s certain places I go where this is the mantra of a hell ton of ppl who don’t believe in luck, and I have to just suck it in because they succeeded at a young age. Because inversely, if anyone doesn’t succeed right away--clearly they don’t work hard enough, right?

I won’t dig into real world stuff because that’s...the real world and the real world is a bummer, but even in the universe of Yugioh there’s this crazy disparity in duelers that the people on the top refuse to acknowledge and the people on the bottom have absolutely no way to cope with so they become insanely bitter about it.

Mai has mentioned that despite all of her hard work and success--because she isn’t the top 4 duelists of Kaiba’s tourney--no one knows who she freakin is. The card industry is so toxic, that even KAIBA dropped out.

And even without Kaiba to compete against anymore, Mai still wasn’t able to get in there to fill that void. The void that also has Marik and Odion in it, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure Marik will never touch a card ever again and might be back to living underground or on a boat in the middle of no-where. And we don’t even need to mention Bakura, right? Bakura who should have also been here to fill the void of fame, but his face probably only comes out fuzzy on camera like people haunted by that girl from the Ring. So we’ll just ignore Bakura, that makes sense, I can accept that canon.

But really...it’s just Joey and Yugi at the top of the crop when there should have been room for at least 4.

So, it’s interesting that the Oricalchos in this situation is the “get me popular quick” drug that will somehow give Rex and Weevil what they need for automatic success because I see people desperately looking for this SO MUCH online. I have seen so many post “This is how I got 100000 followers in 100 days,” and it’s always the same story that isn’t so much about hard work, but more how to game a broken system until all other competitors are invisible. And then there’s the hidden factor about...luck...that really offends people although we all know that it exists.

But just remember I’m not allowed to have this opinion that luck...exists...So if anyone asks, I never said this.

And also...if Rex and Weevil had any support up until now from these kids who have been stuffing them in the trunk for over a dozen episodes, they wouldn’t have done any of this.

So talking as a jaded Millennial, I’m not gonna judge you if you take your Oricalchos, if you know what I mean. Everyone has their reasons, and no one’s too good not to ever do it, lets be real.

+++++++++++++++END OF THIS RANT, WOW, I WANT TO SAY THAT WHILE SLAPPING A WHOLE LOT OF PEOPLE IN A GENTLE MANNER+++++++++++++

So I realized something. This cliff face is sort of an iconic train, but it’s the wrong train.

This is the Amtrak in the middle of Nevada/Utah, pretty sure. I know that shade of orange. I’ve done the Nevada drive a lot.

And part of the reason I’m even sleuthing into this is because as an artist I like to see where art inspiration comes from. It doesn’t just come from a void--they clearly did research and I just want to find out...how it happened.

So anyway, like I said last time, the Amtrak is in charge of the Caltrain management, although the Caltrain is not part of Amtrak. And so you get similar paint jobs--it’s just that Amtrak has blue topped cars, and the Caltrain cars are typically red. Yugioh safely did red, white and blue, which both cars do, to an extent, being American trains.

It’s possible that they decided to look up scenic trains in California and were like “this one looks neat.” This one is also named the “California Zephyr” which makes it seem super Californian but in actuality it goes from Emeryville, California to Chicago. Only problem is that Emeryville is North of Oakland, and we’re supposed to be taking the train “to the airport” when the airports are in Oakland or San Mateo. This train doesn’t go to the airport. You just drove by the airport.

This train also doesn’t go to Florida. Chicago is North, way north. This train exists to be a slow, scenic train for old tourists who want to sleep in cramped spaces or jaded millennials writing their award winning novel. It has no other purpose.

So, it doesn’t at all match anything story wise...but it looks cool. They would never take this train if the world was going to end, and Rebecca wouldn’t know it exists, but, it looks cool.

But anyway, onward to the next episode. I’ll be kind of bunking in my home for a while since my entire area basically shut down, so maybe I’ll get the next updates done earlier than usual? Maybe even catch up on my backlog? hm. Possibilities.

And if you just got here, this is all the Yugioh recaps in chrono order.

[margaritas-and-melancholy]

Part 1

So I was writing a piece for @straightasdeanwinchester‘s 2000 follower challenge but then I got super carried away for several day and Its ended up being really, really long and I’m not even a quarter into the story yet sooo this is going to be a part 1 for a fic coming soon hopefully!

Word Count: 10,001

Pairing: The Winchester Bro’s x platonic reader (well kinda platonic but also with a bit of a thing for Dean)

Warnings: None I think

Enjoy!

It was February in Kansas, still winter and you were outside a worn and rusted old metal door. You were standing outside the Men of Letters American bunker; a relic from the 1950s left abandoned until recently. The two new occupants were Sam and Dean Winchester; Legacies through their grandfather's side. You hesitate to knock but you’re sure you have already tripped the warding sigils and sooner or later they will find out you’re am here.

 Whilst standing outside the bunker you absently think of everything that had happened in the last year. You think of the day you found out you were an Impartial angel, a special type of Angel little told of in theology textbooks, at least the ones you’d seen. We are not only Angels, we are also humans.

Unlike other Angels which must take vessels in order to survive on the earth we come with one prepackaged.

 Impartials are born just like humans with no memory of who they are and you had ha a completely normal human life until we turn 18.

 That is when you’d receive what's known as The Knowledge. Impartial angels receive all the knowledge of their past life; who they were, what they used to be and who they need to be.

 An impartial angel might live up to 3000 years in the same human body but they still need to take a new form when that body dies. You remember the two different lives you have lived so far, one you barely remember, only the darkness and the cold and the fighting and surviving. The next is more vivid to you, you were a young boy living in Ireland, nothing more than a peasant really, scrounging for a bit of turnip or an apple to fend off the scurvy. Now you’re a girl, born 1998 London, England.

 When you received my Knowledge you saw the apocalypse, you heard of the Leviathan, you heard everything and then you heard of the Winchester's; Sam and Dean.

 Now forced to flee from your home and family the obvious choice was to seek them out for help and protection. And that (with a bit of persuasion from Chuck) is why you’re hesitating in front of the door of the two most infamous hunters in history.

 You feel silly but deep down you’re scared of rejection. The brothers are not exactly known for being friendly or for enjoying Partners in Crime and you can't tell them the whole reason you are here. You don't want to.

 You breathe out long and heavy watching the condensation of my breath and knock on the door. After a minute, it's opened by a tall man dressed simply in jeans and a plaid shirt, brown hair coming to his shoulders and confusion written all over his face.

 “Hi” you start brightly, beaming a sunny smile to him and hoping he won't slam the door in your face or try to kill you. Of course, that scenario would end up being a lot worse for him.

 The man- Sam - looks baffled “um hi…”  he looks inside the dark bunker and back at you “I'm sorry” he says, “who are you?”

 “Oh sorry” You stutter, determined to make a positive impact “I'm (Y/N), um it's nice to meet you, can I come in?”

 “How did you find us?” This doesn't seem to be going anywhere…. His eyebrows knit together with confusion and just a hint of fear.  His hand is reaching reflexively towards his belt to the knife you know is hidden under his shirt.

 “Look it's a really long story can I just come in?” taking control you push past him still standing frozen in shock and walk into the bunker dragging my case behind me. After the terrors of demons and angels I suppose a you were the last thing they were expecting. Oh well, at least if I look cute and fuzzy he won't try and kill me outright.

 Carefully I step through the two heavy doors and look beyond the balcony below to the cavernous rooms. Dean stares up from a table surrounded by open lore books looking concerned “Sam?”  he shouts, “What the hell?”

You walk down the stairs followed by Sam and place my bag on the nearest table. You see Deans eyes widen and a smile spreads across his face.

  “Chuck sent me” you announce.

 “Chuck... as in God?” Sam questions

“yeah”

Dean looks irritated and rolls his eyes “Oh great, so what does he think we are now, babysitters!” he huffs. “Anyway, I thought God was taking an extended vacation, family bonding and all that”

 “Well I am family” You smile encouragingly

 From your peripheral vision, you see Sam give you the side eye and the two of them exchange a glance.

 “No offence” Sam started “but God didn’t show for Michael, Lucifer or the apocalypse, what makes you special”. He leans against one of the walls arms folded and eyebrow raised.

 “Look, there's trouble upstairs-” You begin hesitantly

“When isn't there!”  Dean mutters under his breath looking bothered. Looking back to all the times they have had to clean up heavens messes you can see why.

 “Maybe it's best if you tell us from the beginning” Sam said gently. You shrug and sigh.

 “Ok but it might take a while”

   “So, let me get this straight you're some kind of humanoid...angel... whatever and you got in trouble with some of your angel buddies and you need to stay here?”. You look up from bitten fingernails and see Dean's resigned expression.

 “Yeah more or less” You give them both a smile and really hope they're not going to kick you out.

 “impartial angel...” Sam repeats, “you know dean, I think I have seen something about that in the lore”

“Oh yeah”

 “Yeah! you guys were supposed to be able to pack some serious mojo right?” Sam turns to you for confirmation and you swear he's almost impressed.

 You chuckle awkwardly and give a sheepish grin “Yeah”

 “Well you wouldn't have thought it looking at you, a tiny little thing like yourself” Dean scoffs eyeing you up and down. “But then again look at Chuck and he’s master of the universe”

 If you could see yourself now you are pretty sure you would agree with him, you don't look like a centre of power. You’re small and absolutely terrified. You fold my hands behind your back so you can't start wringing them together and hope the sweat isn't visible.

 What's making you most nervous, creating this horrible pit in your stomach is you can't taste the atmosphere of the room.  You had decided to switch off your ‘spidey senses’ to give the boys a bit of privacy and not read their minds. Besides you didn't want to hear their judgement of you.

 “Look it won't be for very long and I won't make any mess, I won't be any trouble, I promise I just really need to stay for a while and lie low... please”

 You look pleadingly between Sam and Dean who exchange stares. As an only child, you’ve always envied that connection between siblings, the ability to understand what each other are thinking and it's clear that Sam and Dean are no different.

Dean is the first to break the uncomfortable pause by huffing loudly “Sure it's no problem, consider us your very own witness protection service for human- angels” he grins at you and Sam

 “Hangels!” He shouts tears in his eyes at his own terrible pun. “Eh eh Sammy...Hangels”

 You crack a smile at Sam's disapproving face as Dean gets up from the table throwing his hands in the air “Some people!”  he says, “No appreciation for good humour” and he disappears down the corridor. He turns just for a second to stare inquisitively at you then smiles at whatever unknown thought he had.

 In the corner, Sam looks pensive “What worries me is what's possibly so bad that could be a threat to an impartial angel” he asks.

 Your face falls and you glare down at my shoes ashamed “maybe I am the threat” you whisper

From where you’re standing the silence feels long and ugly but that maybe just because you already know your sins. Unwilling to see the disgust you are sure is written on his face you keep your eyes fixed downwards.

 Thankfully the awkwardness is broken by an ever-reliable noisy Dean who tramples into the room “Hey, we've got a room for you -not fancy or pink -but it's safe, we can promise you that”. Behind the jokes, you can see the sincerity in his eyes and you nod.

“Thank you, really”

 “Well it's almost 7:30 so I was going to head out and grab something to eat is there anything you want?”  Sam begins while putting his coat on.

 “Oh s***!” you shout “I need to call my mother, she is going to be freaking out!”.

 Dean looks up in disbelief “angels have mothers?!”  looking round at Sam who simply shrugs back and looks at me.

  You laugh “I do” .

 “Where?”  Dean exclaims.

 “At home…”  You reply slowly.

 He still looks lost “Yeah, where’s that?.

 “London”.

 Sam seems concerned “You came all the way from London to here by yourself?”.

 “Of course,” you reply, “To be honest I only really left half an hour ago...I teleported- angel here remember”. You don’t mention all the time you spent creepily standing outside.

 They both still seemed to be having difficulty coming to terms with the fact that one of the most powerful creatures of Heaven was standing in front of them with a baby face and a purple suitcase. Of course, Lilith was a twelve-year-old and she started the end of the world. And you wouldn’t say you were young looking really, just more innocent.

 “Right” dean said

 “Two minutes” You shout over your shoulder pulling out your phone from my pocket and dialling mum's number.

  It appeared they would rather be facing a vampire than you right now judging by the twin grimaces they were sporting with Sam’s rather outmatching Dean. To be honest you couldn't blame them.

 The phone call was short and went as expected. A lecture for calling late and for leaving your room a mess. Her voice was high and stretched thin, a violin string waiting to snap. You could tell the anger was just a cover for her worry. The last year had been hard for her, accepting her little girl becoming a 3657-year-old (I think, I stopped keeping track a few centuries ago) warrior angel.

 Sam had left to go pick up supplies leaving Dean back at the table with Demonology of the Far East researching for a case. You hung up and picked up my bag “Dean?”

“Yeah”. He looked up and stared directly at you. You were not ready for the physical reaction that accompanied his gaze. Your hands began to sweat as your heart raced. You then realised you had been staring at him for longer than you should.

 “Is it alright if I dump this stuff in my room?” You ask jerking back into reality and pointedly not staring into those green eyes which swallowed you up. “I need to get ready to go hunting, I’ve got a great evening planned”

 He sits back incredulous “Firstly since when do angels hunt, I’m not saying you’re all warm and fuzzy, but hell- your kind don't normally give a crap what goes on down here”

 That stings, you may not be all that close to the heavenly host these days but they are still your family.

 “Well firstly it's not their fault, angels can't help the way they are made to follow the chain of command, we are soldiers Dean not harp playing hippies”. You glare at him.

 “And what do you mean my kind! I am human too you know, I have free will and it's my world too so yeah I care if it's full of monsters!” Even you are surprised at the amount of venom you can hear in my voice and he also looks taken aback.

 Holding his hands up he tries to start again “Okay sorry...truce?” He offers.

 “Sure” You smile weakly, you need to learn to cover the Impartial side. “So, what was secondly?”

He also cracks a smile the sudden tension draining from his shoulders.

 “How did you find a case already?!” Dean asks

 You can't help showing off just a bit and reply casually “I smelt a vamps nest when I came in, about twenty miles away- around 15 of them I think”

 “Yeah sure Sherlock, don't you think we would have noticed a nest of that size in our own neck of the woods”

 You simply smile innocently.

  “An angel is never wrong Dean” and step into the corridor leading to the spare bedrooms leaving him snorting in contempt behind you.

 You hadn't considered it before, how much fun this could be. You never had any siblings and now it's almost like gaining two -slightly dysfunctional- older brothers.

 Well maybe one older brother. And one…something else.

  Invisible from the outside the bunker is massive on the inside, a maze stuck in the 50s painted in retro browns and pale yellows with harsh fluorescent lights and it reminds you of a WW2 government building.

 You could almost expect Churchill himself to come plodding out of one the rooms filled with switchboards, control panels and flashing buttons. Of course, instead of Nazis this place is scanning for demons.

 “Oh, hell no” You say aloud walking into your room, 1950’s is great but if you’re going to be living here for a while the puke colour decor has got to go. You don't care how shallow it sounds it's times like this you love being an angel.

 A couple of finger snaps later you’re sitting at a crystal dressing table groaning under boxes of makeup, brushes and perfume surrounded by gleaming white wallpaper, soft cream carpet and silk sheets. Perhaps the ballroom Moissanite chandelier was a bit much but you think it adds character to the room.

Excited for the evening ahead you spend the better part of an hour and a half transforming your hair and face. You pull out your favourite dress- short and a beautiful emerald velvet with a V neck and loose bell sleeves and then lace up black leather combat boots.

Next up; accessories, hunting style.

 You pick out the knife that you would feel lost without. Even from five months to now ago my weapons feel like part of my skin and extensions of me. You slip your Buck 120 General into a pocket of my leather jacket.

 A couple of months ago You modified a black biker jacket so that you could store blades in the lining which comes in handy in days like today where you’re going to need a machete for the vamps later.

 You switch off the music and walk back down the passageway to the main rooms. Both Sam and Dean are there, Dean digging into a greasy takeaway bag and Sam looking at him with disdain.  “You’ve already eaten 2 burgers Dean, I really hope you enjoy diabetes”.

 Dean looks up at him mid chew “Shut up Sammy, a man needs his bacon”.

 You deliberately step loudly into them room so they hear you enter and Sam turns “Hey, do you want something to eat” He glares at Dean “If there is anything left”

Unabashed Dean then turns “Sorry” and then notices your drastically more polished appearance. He straightened up quickly in his chair doing a small double take “Hey!” He said, “Where the hell are you going?”.

 “Hunting, I told you” You remind him with a smirk and look at them both “You ‘re both welcome to come if you want”.

 “Wait I thought you said Vamps- I doubt they care about makeup” Dean admonished mockingly.

 “Yeah but first I've got to stop off, I've been tracking a high-profile demon for a month or so and I know he is going to be at a club not too far from here tonight so I needed to dress to blend in”.

 “You know you are going to freeze to death” Sam pointed out “It's practically arctic out there”.

 You’re beginning to lose your patience, all the getting ready and prep has built up the anticipation and thrill you always get before hunting. Your muscles ache to be used and your Impartial is bubbling to the surface.

 “I’ll be fine” You say decisively “Are you guys coming or not”.

 “You wanna take out 15 Vamps by yourself? Yeah, we are coming” Dean said, “I’m beginning to see why Chuck sent you to us”. Sam shook his head slightly in agreement. You thought it was sweet how they clearly wanted to protect you.

 You go to climb up the stairs but Sam moves to block your path arm resting on the banister.

“Look, Chuck entrusted you to us for a reason and I hardly think wandering off to a Vampire nest at night is a good idea”.

 My smile tightens “Sam” You say warningly “Please move”.

 “Stay”.

 “You know I don't actually need to leave via the front door right- I could just zap on out of here” you remind him.

 Dean gets up from the table and pulls out his own machete from a duffle bag and sticks it through his belt “Kids’ got a point”.

 Sam rolls his eyes “Fine” and goes to take his own weapon

 “Brilliant” You smile and focus on the grimy bit of town you were aiming to teleport to whilst ignoring Dean's low grumbling “Death wish!”.

 “Okay let's go” I said and reached forward to grab their arms.

 ---

 Your feet impact on hard pavement and the cold air whipped around you. You were in a dark side street lined with bins and locked doors. Even from here the buzz of the city square was audible and you shivered. Sam noticed and raised his eyebrows “Cold?” he reproached “I told you so”

 You ignored the jib and walked towards the city glow. You hadn't shivered from cold, angels don't feel the temperature the way humans do. You shivered because you could feel it- the heart of the city and smell the putrefaction of its evil- and you were excited.

 You let the boys follow you walking down the shaded side of the streets becoming increasingly busier. You pull your hood over your face to blend in further. Invisibility allows you to become no more than an observer which was useful when hunting.

 Sam caught up with you “So, the demon, who is he?” he asked walking round a group of cackling plastic-looking women supporting a clearly very drunk friend. She was tottering on her thin plastic stilettos paying little mind to the stains on her pink mini-dress which looked suspiciously like vomit.

 She shouted at us as we past “Ooo nice boyfriends honey, mind if I take one!” which provoked the whole gaggle to burst into more raucous laughter.

 Dean was smirking at you and raised his eyebrows suggestively whilst you blushed crimson. Sam just smiled politely, with thinly veiled distaste and stepped further away from the group. “The demon?” He prompted and you teared your eyes away from Dean.

 “His name’s Eligor, just your standard douchebag demon, until he got promoted to Great Duke of Hell” You say giving him a pointed look.

 Dean has overtaken you both now as you all cross one of the main city squares buzzing with energy in all corners. People are spilling out like stains into the street drinking, smoking and talking.

 “So, where’s the club?” Dean stops and turns to face Sam and you then looks down at his watch shaking his head “Christ I’m too old for nightclubs”.

 “Have a drink and you’ll be fine” Sam says and Dean's face lightens up slightly.

 “Don't think I won't Sammy”.

 You’re shocked. “You guys drink on the job?”. And they were telling you off for being irresponsible. Dean pauses at the end of the street grinning.

“Well I do most of the drinking and Sam does most of the whining to go home, but don’t worry sweetheart I’ll buy you one too” he winked.

 “I do not!” Sam protests pointing at Dean and opening his mouth to argue-

 “Right!” You shout loudly. “It's right here”.  You were beginning to wonder how often you were going to have to break up the little bickering matches. Sam rolled his eyes and turned away to look fixedly at the buildings on the other side of the road strolled looking amused.

 “So, this Eligor” Dean shouted back to Sam and you. “What's a great Duke of hell doing topside anyway? Isn't he supposed to be...well in hell?”.

 “Yeah that's kinda the problem” you explained. “So, he is in charge of 60 legions of demons and normally it's the small fry that do this kind of manual labour but he has recently been getting involved in a human cartel... and a nasty one at that, responsible for hundreds of deaths this year”.

 The three of you were getting closer to the area of downtown where the club was. You weren’t sure if the boys could sense it but the shift in the mood between the two crowds was blatantly tangible to you. You all were surrounded by warehouses lit with garish neon signs advertising bars and clubs, pounding techno music coming from inside.

 Most people here were dressed in black, faces shrouded by hoods, scattered on the streets, and leaning against walls talking quietly in small groups. From the corner of your eye you could see the boys and you being inspected by a tall scruffy guy with narrowed eyes.

 Dean instinctively straightened up, searching for threats. Meanwhile Sam had subtly grabbed our arms pulled Dean and you both closer to him so he could whisper “Uh guys, we are being stared at...a lot”

Dean pulled his arm away roughly and hissed back quietly “Then stop looking so nervous”

 “It's just because we are new, strangers are never appreciated in places like this” You reassured him and then stopped, grabbing the back of Dean's jacket to stop him wandering off. “Here. this is it”

 Dean looked up at the corrugated metal door with a yellow sign saying Corruption and snorted quietly in amusement “Huh, ‘Corruption. Figures”. He had no idea. Unlike you he couldn't hear all of the people in the street trading in their secrets and deals.

 There was a short line with two burly bouncers flanking the door. Both were heavily tattooed with standard satanic symbols and gang signs but the shorter one had his entire face covered with a grinning skull laid over his own features.

 Dean was eyeing the bouncers with curiosity “Check out the tatts” he said elbowing Sam. Then he turned to you. “Demons?” he asked.

 You laugh derisively “Yeah right, I doubt he even knows what half of those symbols mean” Sam shook his head in disbelief frowning at the large 666 on the taller man’s neck.

 “When the hell did Satanism become cool? “He said.

“God knows” Dean replied and chuckled “Crowley would probably hate them”. He then proceeded to take on a mock British accent “Satanists just have no finesse these days”.

 “Omg don’t, that was horrible” You say rifling in my purse and pulling out a personal invitation. It seemed both you and the Duke of hell had some contacts in this area.

 “Where did you get that?” Sam asked, “You only arrived today”

 You shrug.

 “I preplanned”.

 Then you strut over to the skull faced bouncer and looked evenly at him thrusting out the invitation.

 He inclined his head towards the group and lifted the scarlet silk rope for you and the boys to pass.

  Immediately past the door there was a passage leading to a flight of stairs also painted a deep blood red with dim cat lights on the ceiling.

 You all walked up the stairs which opened onto a huge square room dark and jam packed with writhing dancing bodies. The music was deafening reverberating through your ribcage like a second heartbeat.

 Sam leaned over and shouted, “Now what?”.

 Before you could reply Dean pushed you both towards a less crowded corner of the room with a bar counter

 “Now I’m getting my drink”. Sam and you turned to each other and rolled your eyes but deciding it was best to placate him you both let him steer you along.

 Sam leaned against the sticky wooden counter and you hopped onto a stool scanning the room for a sign of Eligor. Dean smacked his hand on the counter and shouted

“Double whisky!” over the din.

 The barman came over and asked, “How do you want it?”.

Dean smiled broadly “Alcoholic”.

“Right”.

Dean turned back to us “So how do we find this guy”.

You pointed at the both of them. “You don't find him, I do” You emphasized. “You’re my backup”.

 Whilst Dean drank and explained the finer tunings of a smoked Tennessee whiskey to a politely disinterested Sam you closed your eyes.

 Impartial angels are both angelic and human having been born as one. You may display as many attributes of an Impartial angel or a human as you like. But when they hunt the Impartial takes over.

 Shutting your eyes the thumping music stopped, my breathing slowed. You could hear every word spoken in the room, hear the heartbeats of every creature the colour of every soul swimming in the blackness.

 Then you heard “kill...cut...Yoanna...trick...bury...hell”. That was followed by other words of violence and cruelty. Snippets of a conversation that could only be Eligor’s. You could feel it was his mind, bitter and acrid. It had the colour of soot, dirty and black.

 In that moment everything stopped, and there was only the hunt, the connection pulling you towards the pool of darkness, the itch to destroy it.

 Your eyes opened and Sam started and shouted, “What the hell, (Y/N) you have demon eyes!”

Both him and Dean had gotten up and stood in front of you ready to defend themselves if necessary.

“Sammy” Dean said carefully, his face stony and serious moving to stand in front of you. “They’re not Demon eyes look. I would know, I’ve had them” He drew his hand back from under his jacket relaxing

“What happened to you?”. Sam still looked concerned and still had not moved from his defensive position.

 “Eligor” You said shortly. “I’ve found him, the hunt has begun and the Impartial has taken over”. You knew that would mean nothing to the boys but you were no longer paying attention.

 You stood up from the stool and fixed your eyes on a door across the club. “Come” You barked and without looking back started to push through the centre of the crowd. You tried not to look anyone in the face knowing they would see the eyes of an Impartial. Black and liquid, but with hints of rainbow. Like an oil slick.

 You barely noticed when Sam grabbed your arm- presumably not to lose you in the thick throng of people. However, you stopped when you all ducked through the doorway in the club and entered into a dingy dark corridor painted the same menacing red as the entrance.

 “So, you've found him?” Sam asked “Where?”.

 “Not sure exactly” You admitted “But I can feel he is near”.

 Dean slid the gun from his belt next to me and nodded “Then let's go get the bastard”.

 The three of you wandered along the corridor looking through open doors but you heard nothing. Sam stopped at a dark flight of stairs on the left leading to the next floor and gestured his head towards it both hands on his gun

 “You hear anything?” He asked

You shook your head “Nope”.

 “But that doesn't mean he isn’t, there, right?” he pressed.

“Yeah I guess” you replied.

 He shrugged “We should split up then, I’ll take up here and you guys keep going”

“No!” Dean half shouted lowering his voice quickly and shoving Sam's gun out of sight as a woman walked past. With clear effort, he modulated his voice to an angry whisper.

“Are you crazy! He growled “You want to go wandering off to a Great Duke of hell all by yourself, no way!

 You looked along the passageway then spotted something not too far down.

“You know guy’s I don’t think it’s going to be a problem, let’s go”.

Sam followed your gaze and nodded.

 You folded your arms with one hand tucked just under the edge of your jacket fingers resting on your Buck hunting knife as you walked to another flight of stairs leading upwards.

 The boy from outside was leaning lazily against the wall at the bottom staring at the floor. He looked up when you came over and stretched his face into a thin smile.

“Sorry guys, this floors off limits” he rasped.

 “We'll see, we’ve got an appointment” Dean stepped forward and held his hands up in a shrug. The man's face contorted into something nastier and he sneered.

“I don't remember a Moose and a Squirrel being on the guest list”

Sam also stepped forward pulling out his own demon blade and retorted “well it looks like we are crashing the party” with a dangerous smile.

At that the boys smile slipped off his face and his eyes turned jet black “Try it Winchester”.

 Sam advanced but with a flick of the Demons wrist he was sent crashing into the wall and crumpled onto the floor, dazed.

With a roar, Dean lunged at the Demon and was again knocked back with a force that knocked him back off his feet. The demon grabbed your arm and yanked you in front of him pulling your head back with one hand and raising a blade. Both Sam and Dean were on their feet.

 “If you two don't want to see your little sis get chopped up then back off” The demon snarled. Deans facial expression completely shut down at that, replaced by a mask of anger.

Sam was slightly closer to you so you sent him a pointed look and counted on your fingers at your side; one, two, three.

 You whirled out of the demon’s grip grabbing the arm holding you and using your momentum to swing behind him grabbing his other arm. At the same time, Sam ran forward sinking the blade into the demon's chest and twisting the handle.

The demons breathe cut off as the red glow erupted from his eye-sockets and mouth and his vessel slumped on the ground.

 “Good teamwork” Sam smiled and You reached up to give him a high five laughing.

Dean looked up the stairs grimly “If that's all the guarding they have got that's good, it means Eligor isn't expecting company”.

 The brothers and you ascended the staircase silently and found it led to a small landing with only one red door. It looked newer than the rest of the building. Shiny red paint and a silver embossed M on the door. You guessed it was one of the private meeting rooms the club supplied for clientele on business meetings.

 Placing your finger on your lips you looked at the boys then placed your hands softly on the door and closed your eyes to hear. “Listen, Eligor, what’s our collateral, what is our guarantee they aren't just going to double- “.

 ” Not now Pithius” a deep voice drawled “We've got company”.

Then, loudly enough for the boys to hear Eligor shouted lazily “Come in then!”.

 You drew back sharply from the door all three of us hesitating. You looked back and Dean nodded encouragingly so you swallowed, pushed open the door forcefully and marched in.

 “Eligor” You said coldly.

 He was a tall and thin man in black suit and overcoat with salt and pepper hair, probably in his late 50’s. Every angle of his was sharp and his face was heavily lined.

He smiled unkindly “Well if it isn't my lucky day, the famous Winchesters!” he raised his arms in mock admiration and awe “I’ve heard so much about you”.

 “Well we’ve heard about you too Eligor” Sam retorted.

 Dean tilted his head and asked with curiosity “So why are you on earth doing the dirty work?”. He pouted in fake sympathy “Did you get demoted?”. Eligo’s expression didn't change and he ignored the question as he glanced at you. “Looks like we both have friends in high places boys”.

 “Impartial” he greeted you curtly “I haven't met you before”

You snorted in disdain “I doubt you have met many Impartial.” You let acid leak into your voice. “We don't tend to keep company with your kind”.

What made you most uncomfortable was his lack of response, just a simple smug smile and he turned away from me to address us all loudly.

 “So” he said, “What do you all want, if you could make it quick, as you can see Pithius and I are having a meeting”. He swept his arm across the room towards the even skinnier greying demon beside him. He had been looking at you all with pure malice from the second you walked into the room.

 “Well sorry to interrupt but we really do insist you take a break,” Dean snarled brandishing an angel blade “Permanently,”.

  Eligor paused and then spoke politely with a threatening undertone.

 “I don’t that is going to work for me.”

 Dean shrugged sarcastically “Pity.” and suddenly he threw his fist towards Eligor’s face catching him on the jaw and sending him stumbling backwards.

 The other demon, Pithius, stepped backwards looking at Sam who was advancing towards him and looked over to Eligor for help.

 Dean tried to plunge the knife he was carrying into Eligor’s stomach but was met across the face with a jab from the demon’s elbow. At that you ran forwards to give Dean time regain his balance and of course being too far from the demon to surprise him Eligor flicked a hand sideways.

You were knocked off your feet and you smashed into a cabinet on the other side of the room your head cracking on the corner making my vision blur. You were sure If you had been fully human at this point you would have broken a rib or at least suffered a concussion.

Dean took the opportunity of Eligors momentary distraction with you to grab the demon by the throat and throw him against a wall.

 Sam had knocked over the less powerful demon and attempted to stab through his shoulder when the demon rose and collided with Sam's legs causing him to fall to the ground. In that free second Pithius smoked out of his vessel, a black plume rising from the man's mouth which escaped through a vent. “Crap!” Sam shouted.

 Now the three of you converged on Eligor who made a move to lunge at Dean but you kicked out at his shin hearing a loud crack when your foot connected with bone. The demon howled out in rage and reached towards you but Sam grabbed onto his shoulders slamming him against the wall once more allowing you to plunge your angel blade directly into his heart.

The demon’s vessel spasmed, light emanating from his face. Sam let go and the empty vessel fell to the floor.

 You all stood looking at the two bodies on the floor and breathing heavily. You rubbed the back of your head, as expected not feeling any blood or injury but you felt the pain memory. Dean was massaging his face where Eligor had hit him and gingerly pinching his nose to check for breakages.

Sam motioned at the vessel of Eligor. “Poor guy.” He said.

You squatted down to the body and held up one of its arms pulling back the suit sleeves to reveal deep cuts along the wrists.

 “Don't be.” You said without warmth “He was long gone.”.

 Dean placed his knife back in his jacket and looked at the other demon vessel. “What about this one.” He asked and bent down to place two fingers on the older man's neck “Still breathing.” He announced.

Sam moved over to grab the man's arm and gestured for Dean to do the same. “The same as usual.” He said, “Take him to the nearest hospital, wherever that is”.

 “Okay let's go” You said. “Hold him” and I grabbed the two of them.

 You landed solidly in a deserted front lot of the nearest Mass General. “What time is it?” You asked to no one in particular.

 “1:45” Sam replied.

 “Hey, the night is still young!” Dean grinned. Sam rolled his eyes and the two of them began to haul the older man towards the main entrance of the hospital.

You lingered behind looking absently at the silent street that was beginning to get foggy. The road and hospital entrance were flanked with bright orange streetlamps and the sky was overcast with dark raincloud but still there were some stars visible. You looked at Venus, known as the Morningstar and you wondered how the name of something so pure and beautiful could be given to something so ugly.

 Sam wondered out behind me, hands in his pockets. “Where’s Dean?” You asked looking down. He laughed softly, “I think he is trying to get the nurses number”. You laughed with him at the thought of Dean trying to charm the shift nurse, no doubt on her tenth consecutive hour with the cranky attitude to go with it.

Sam leaned against a bench and smiled at you “You did good back there”.

“Of course, I did” You replied lightly “But you too”.

 You turned around at the sound of Dean muttering under his breath striding towards you. “How's the heartbreak?” You asked innocently.

 “I don’t know what you mean” he replied whilst looking daggers at Sam.

 “The Nurse?” Sam hinted as if to jog Dean's memory.

 “Sammy, shut up!” Dean looked thunderous and stomped off.

“Where are you going?” You shouted after him.

 “To go kill the next monster on the list!” he shouted snarkily back.

You laughed. “Well have fun walking the 40 miles to get there…”.

Sam got up and you both strolled over to where Dean was hopefully getting over his sulk. “Don’t worry he is probably just mad I’m embarrassing him in front of you” Sam snickered.

 “So where are we actually going?” he asked whilst you grabbed their forearms to teleport.

“It's a small farmhouse, that's why you wouldn't have noticed it” You explained “Along with the fact they have been travelling to the next city to hunt”. Sam nodded.

“Well let's go kill some Vamps” Dean said looking visibly cheered up by the thought.

 When you arrived, it had already begun to rain here, a heavy downpour starting to build. You looked up towards the sky whilst pulling up your hood.

“The rain is good” Your point out and Dean nods with agreement

“We can’t be heard so well” he says.

 We appeared at the edge of a field by the dividing shrubbery line under a canopy of clustered sycamore trees. It was a good place to have landed. The overgrown bushes and long grass would provide good cover.

 The field itself was sloped and overlooked the farms property giving a good view of the little

house.

  all crouched in the bushes and you hear a soft humming coming from next to you “So I took the shotgun off the wall and fired two warning shots, into his head…mm mm mm mmmm mmm…”. You turned around in confusion and almost burst out laughing. Dean was behind you absently wiping his own colt on the hem of his shirt and singing to himself. You doubted he even realised what he was doing.

 “Chicago, really?” you asked with a smirk. He looked up ears flushing in embarrassment. After a beat, he shrugged, clearly trying to play it off.

 “Who doesn’t love hot prison chicks” he shrugged again. You were not convinced.

 “You sing Broadway songs?” you asked laughing.

 “You should hear his ‘Cats’” Sam chuckled.

Dean huffed. “I like Broadway Songs, don’t judge me”. He shook his head “Let’s get our game faces on”

  “How are we going at this?” Sam asked putting on his own game face and then pointed to the building “There are two entrances front and back, how do you guys want to split?”

 You shook your head and pointed round the back of the house near the ground. You had better sight than them and could see small double doors coming out of the grass.

“No look, there's an entrance to the basement, we are going to have to choose a door each”

Neither brother looked overly enthusiastic.

 “Brilliant” Dean grumbled “And how many Vamps are in there, 15?. You closed your eyes to concentrate on the house.

“Um, I might have underestimated” You said apologetically. “There's 16….only one more”.

 “16!” Sam exclaimed in disbelief. “That's a suicide mission, you know that right?”.

 He then went to tuck his machete back into its sheath “Look we can just go back to the bunker now and bring more people later, get Cas on board, okay?”.

He didn't seem to understand that there was no threat. You could take care of the whole nest yourself if needed. They were mainly there as your backup net to catch whoever tried to escape.

 “No, it’s okay.” You waved away his concern. “I can go in through the front door and take out as many as possible. I just need you both to man the back doors and pick of any stragglers”.

 Both were staring at you like you were insane. “It's fine” You insisted. “Trust me okay?”.

 “Let’s hope you’re not wrong” Dean said gruffly pulling out his machete and walking down the grass towards the house. You smiled to yourself.

 The rain was getting heavier and the grass was quickly becoming a wetland of boggy soil. You slipped and your ankle twisted painfully and you bit down on my lip not to give it away. The last thing you needed was any more of their lack of confidence in you and the plan.

 Approaching the ramshackle wooden house, you turned and winked at the others “See you on the flip side boys”.

 “You'd better” Sam gave you a meaningful look before you all separated and the two of them walked round to the other side of the house to cover escape routes.

 You unzipped your jacket lining and pulled out your own machete. Then you pulled out two plastic vials of dead man's blood and pulled off the lids. You drenched the blade in the blood and dropped the empty vials on the grass.

It was a little invention you were rather proud of; even if you didn't manage a fatal blow immediately any small cut from the blade would slow the Vampire down from blood poisoning.

 The lights were on in the living room and you heard a humming coming from inside. You closed my eyes to immerse myself in the sounds of the souls in the house. They were blood red and aggressive, cruel. You saw images of victims, kids left drained on the street, people screaming and begging to be left alone.

 Your eyes snapped open and you let a small growl escape your lips which built up, rumbling in your chest. Focusing on the atrocities committed by those inside, you let the Impartial riseup, the righteous fire of heaven burning through you, your eyes darkening to a shimmering black.

You raised your foot and smashed it against the door with such a force it cracked in half and came away at the hinges.

 There were about 7 figures who immediately ran out from various rooms to the hallway crouching and baring teeth ready to defend themselves against intrusion. There were a mix of ages and genders with a burly dark haired man standing protectively at the front.

 You guessed he was the leader as it only took a second for him to straighten up and then the rest of the group followed.

 “What do you want, little girl?” He looked curiously at you whilst holding up a hand to the thirsty vampires behind him. You turned your face to meet his eyes and he blanched.

 “Impartial!” He snarled and turned to his family. Most looked confused but some, probably the older vamps, widened their eyes in trepidations recognition.

“Kill her!” He ordered and you smiled broadly showing glistening teeth.

“Your funeral”

 In a wave the vampiric horde rushed forward and you lept forward striking out to the leader like a snake, faster than any human and sliced through his neck like butter. This triggered a cacophony of enraged growls and snarls as you continued advancing, cutting through vamp after vamp. They were now coming from all sides, you matched them, your own snarls getting louder and ripping through you.

 In your enhanced state, you could see every tiny movement. You punched, kicked, cut and hacked at the bodies rushing at you from every angle your muscles aching for more. To destroy.

 You could hear my maniacal laughter as if it came from someone other than yourself. Barely feeling the spray of blood on your face the vampires blurred together, they no longer had age, gender. You no longer saw any features only the prey.

You were vaguely aware there were getting fewer until you felt a knock on my back. Roaring you curled your arm and swung it behind you with full force knocking the man into heavy oak and glass cabinet. He fell to the floor, shards raining down on him.

You stepped forwards to finish it when a voice perforated my cloud of single minded destruction.

“(Y/N) stop!”

 You whipped your head to see Sam standing behind you weapon raised and you looked around for another attacker. There was no one. He was protecting himself from you. It confused you enough to make you pause.

“What?” You managed to spit out.

“Just look” You pointed at the Vampire you had knocked across the room. His face was set with such fear and confusion that you stopped. You did look at the vampire, except it wasn't a vampire. It was Dean.

 You stomach twisted and your breath caught. He was sitting on the floor supporting himself on the cabinet, face covered in small cuts and one large red stain spreading by his hairline. He simply looked up at you with a wincing and breathing heavily. And in that instant all trace of the Impartial killing machine fell away.

 You stepped back in horror at what you had done to your friend, someone who had had your back. Both boys were silent whilst you backed away from Dean almost tripping over a body, tears stinging the corners of your eyes and your hand clasped over your mouth.

 You blinked and suddenly you were all in a different part of countryside outside the bunker. Dean started to get up with a grunt and Sam leaned over to help him.

“I..I” You couldn't speak “I’m so, so sorry” You managed, tears beginning to escape your eyes.

 Then you turned and ran down the road, throwing off your jacket and dumping it by the roadside.

You continued to sprint as fast possible down the road and through fields in the downpour of rain. You felt your muscles burn and your lungs shriek for air. You ran until you collapsed to your knees in a muddy patch of grass where you knew you wouldn't be found. You were alone in the middle of nowhere.

 Your knees got cut on the sharp rocks and pebbles which you ignored, lying in the filth and curling into a ball allowing yourself to get drenched in the arctic night.

 Now you were alone you felt you could finally let out the frustration and anger that had been building up over the last few months. Warm tears streamed down your frozen cheeks mixing with rainwater and you screamed brokenly into the wind at your powerlessness.

 You had known couldn't control the Impartial. You had known it and so had everyone else in heaven. And here finally was proof of why you needed to run away. Of why Chuck wanted you to stay with Sam and Dean.

 To show you why you needed to stay human, they were your example.

The only two people in the world who would understand your situation having struggled themselves against the darkness from within. They had suffered possession, soullessness, and the Mark of Cain.

 Before your eighteenth birthday even the slightest impoliteness caused you to feel guilty for days and now was actually hurting everyone you cared about.

 For what seemed like hours you let yourself lay down in the mud listening to the sound of the thunderclouds.

 Eventually hours after your legs gave out and your body couldn’t contain you despair anymore the sun began to rise. You felt soft tendrils of light brushing your face.

Opening your eyes, you pushed away from the muddy floor. It had stopped raining but you still had clumps of sludge coating your matted hair and cracking on your skin.

A small groan escaped you as you used an elbow to push yourself off the ground and you stood up looking around you. You were at the top of a lush green field with nothing but wilderness for miles around. You had no idea how close you were to the bunker or how long the walk back was going to take. Sighing, you thought the longer the better. That way you could begin to try and think how you were going to explain last night to the Winchester brothers.

Slowly you made your way down the hill and started down the empty road deciding to follow it until you found somewhere recognizable. Teleporting would be much easier of course but it felt gratuitous. You didn’t deserve an easy time and besides you wanted to remain as human as possible.

And so, you walked as the sun rose, treading heavily as last night’s rain saturated the material of your dress and squelched in your boots. You didn’t bother to heal all your scrapes and cuts.

After around an hour and a half of walking you approached to familiar hill and dip where you knew the bunker was located. You almost snorted at the irony of having come full circle- standing in front of the bunker door wondering how you were going to convince the occupants to let you inside.

Steeling yourself you knocked sharply on the door. One of your damaged knuckles split from the force and you wiped the blood on your leg. Almost immediately after your hand left the metal the door was thrown open to reveal a white-faced Dean.

“(Y/N)!” he said in a strangled voice.

His eyes widened and he reached out to grab you and he pulled you to his chest knocking the wind out of you.

“Um, Dean” you said cautiously. He didn’t reply just rested his chin on your head and kept holding you. You had to admit you were taken aback by just how much affection he was showing you. Perhaps the fighting last night had cemented your camaraderie more than you realised.

Nonetheless you were so glad to see him and be welcomed that you melted against him and wrapped your arms around his waist smiling and soaking up his warmth. Suddenly the feeling of acceptance and support overwhelmed you and all your exhaustion built up. You felt your muscles start to shake.

Dean must have felt you tremble because he placed his hand on your head stoking your hair with his thumb “It’ll be okay, I promise, I forgive you” he said gruffly.

The kindness of this man took you aback but them you remembered all the stories you had heard of the two brothers and the people they had saved. Clearly under the rough edges, Sam and Dean Winchester had more compassion than you had ever encountered in a human.

Releasing you from his grip Dean kept a hand lightly on your back and led you down the stairs to where Sam was waiting inside the war room, concern also etched on his face. He smiled encouragingly at you.

“Look, chuck clearly sent you to us for a reason” Dean started.

“But I’m getting the feeling there’s more you need to tell us” Sam finished sympathetically. Your teeth began to chatter audibly from the cold.

“But not right now” Dean cut in giving Sam a reproachful glance. “Go, have a shower, get changed then we will talk about it later okay (Y/N)”.

“Thanks” you said and hurried to your room. You lingered in the shower because the warm water felt so good running over your sore skin and unknotting your muscles.

Afterwards you pulled on a pair of leggings and a simple grey t-shirt and made your way back down the hall towards the war room. There was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen which caused your stomach to grumble loudly. You hadn’t even realised how hungry you were.

Inside the kitchen was Dean opening the oven to pull out an enormous pizza bubbling with cheese and piled with bacon.

“Wow” you said, announcing yourself. Dean looked over his shoulder and grinned at you

“One of my specialities” he said in a bad French accent flourishing his hand towards the pizza.

“All he actually knows how to make is junk food” Sam muttered as he came into the kitchen behind you. Deans face sported a look of mild outrage.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked.

“Nothing” Sam said. “Pass the spinach would you, it’s in the fridge”.

“No way Sammy, I’m not going to be an enabler to your rabbit food diet” Dean retorted which caused Sam to roll his eyes and push past Dean to get to the fridge.

You laughed and walked up behind Dean “Well I’ll never say no to free pizza” you said. Dean beamed at you.

“’Atta girl” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “You’re sorely missing out Sammy”.

You pulled up a chair and sat whilst the boys prepared their food. “So maybe we should talk now?” you asked. Sam put down his food and walked over to you carefully, similarly to how one might approach a wild animal not to scare it off. Or not to make it attack.

“Just…” he struggled to ask. “What happened to you? What was that?”. You let out a long sigh.

“I’ve been running” you said, staring fixedly at your shoes “From some really bad people, angels really”. After a pause, you looked back up to see both men with identical sombre expressions and took the hint to keep going.

“When an impartial angel turns 18, we get what is called the Knowledge. You suddenly snap from being a human to being this, thing. You’re all powerful and it’s all consuming.”. You were spitting out the words now.

“Sometimes if the wrong people are around you when you get the Knowledge and you change; things can go badly”. Wrapping your arms around your body you felt tears prickle at the edge of your vision and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What do you mean by badly” Dean asked softly. From behind your eyelids you saw a face, a teenage boy laughing and you heard a voice call out to you “(Y/N)”. Other images followed, the same face screaming, a never-ending moan of agony that settled right into your bones sending a shiver rattling through you.

“People get hurt. When I changed I was with someone, Daniel.”. You voice cracked. “He was too close and I couldn’t do anything, and I tried, I tried so so hard to save him”.

“Hey” Deans voice interjected. He wrapped his hands around your wrists pulling them away from your face and waited until you looked up at him.

“It’s not your fault” he said, “It’s not your fault, okay?”.

You nodded at him then looked away disgusted that you would even let yourself think for a second you could be blameless in Daniels death. No- his murder. You had murdered him.

Sam walked over from the kitchen counter and sat in a chair besides you. “So why did you come here?” He asked.

“I never really liked humans in my past lives, never gotten attached to anyone” you explained. Truthfully to say you never liked humans was an understatement. You had had complete contempt for what you saw as the weakness of humanity.

“But this time was different. With what happened to Da- with what happened, I had to leave. I can’t risk putting the people I love in danger”. Again, your voice was rising to a near hysteric pitch.

“So, I did what you do in disasters, when the world is falling apart” You smiled sadly “I prayed, and then I called on the Winchesters”.

Dean frowned but sensing your panic was dimming so he got up and went to cut a slice of pizza. You kept you gaze down. He came back and pushed a plate in front of you on the table.

“Eat.” He ordered. “But why us?”

“Yeah” Sam interjected. “We’re still human. You could still kill us just as easily”. At this Dean snorted “Pfft Sammy I don’t think it would be that easy, I like to think we put up a good fight”.

Sam lifted and eyebrow and said “Dean, she took you down like a ragdoll”. Dean scowled and muttered

“Yeah, whatever.”.

“I think God, Chuck, wanted to show me another way of living. You know, how to be human” you offered up chewing on a slice of pizza. It really was delicious and you had always been one to eat your pain away.

“And he thought we were good examples of a human life” Dean said sceptically. You shrugged.

“I guess so, yeah”. Dean shook his head and crammed some pizza in his mouth.

“So, I guess you’ll be staying for a while?” Sam asked standing back up. You bit you lip and looked up at the taller Winchester imploringly.

“If that’s okay…” you said.

“Yep, well, business as usual then” replied busying himself once more with a pile of vegetables.

You were exceedingly glad the Winchesters were men of actions rather than words and you wondered if they could tell you were done talking for the night. You stood up and walked over to the sink and washed up your plate. Dean came up behind you filling a glass of water.

He smirked looking at your left forearm. “Huh, cool” he said pointing at your birthmark. “It looks like-“

“A bat.” You both said at the same time. “Yeah I know”. Dean glanced up slightly at the sudden sharpness in your tone but decided not to comment.

“Goodnight” you said ducking away from Dean and walking swiftly out the kitchen. Later you could feel bad about being rude. Add it to the growing list of things you can feel like crap about.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway you cupped you hand over the mark. You could almost feel a ghostly thumb brushing your skin and a voice saying jokingly “Maybe we should call you Batgirl”. With only accepting the human side of yourself came the consequence of not being able to shut off your memories.

You stuck both arms rigidly by your sides and walked to your room and closing the door. You were so tired. Not even that sleepy, just so bone-achingly tired of everything. Collapsed in bed under your new silk sheets you just waited to pass out.

[funnyfolk]

The Trip

January 2018 was bad. I don’t mean, I felt the post Christmas slump or I ran out of money (I did) I mean bad in the way that changes you as a person. There’s often a moment in people’s lives where you realise that your probably not going to be the same ever again, if you’ve never experienced this- excellent. I hope you never do (unless you need to change shit in which case- get on with it). If you have then you’ll know what I mean (I genuinely hope your thriving now. I imagine you will be). As a result of what I shall call “a series of unfortunate events” I found myself stumbling through January, trying my hardest to keep my shit together and avoid being sent to a psychiatric unit. My hair was out of control, my mind was out of control and it felt like the walls were falling in around me- but I did deadlift 120kg, a personal best at the time (message- there’s always a bright side).

One evening at the beginning of a particularly difficult week I received a message from an old flame who I had neither seen or spoken to for nearly two years. It’s prudent to note at this point that when you’ve not spoken to someone for that long, there’s probably a reason for it. Ignoring my better judgement, less than 24 hours later I found myself driving North for Three hours (slightly more due to some poor sign posting and an average speed check) and paying £5.90 to get to a city that can only be described as “bleak”. Much like my outlook on life. Fitting. My hair was still mental- I was still mental. Yet here I was.

As I drove I congratulated myself on my get up and go attitude, rationalised and re rationalised the overwhelming feeling that I may have made a terrible mistake and panicked that I had run someone over and not realised (this is definitely a thing). I arrived, convinced I was wanted for murder and had lost my license for speeding through twenty cameras (I am not a good driver) I should have accepted defeat, accepted that I might just have to let someone down- just this once and driven home as fast as my little car could manage (around 35mph). Alas. I did not. Quite the opposite in fact. I knocked on the door.

The old flame answered, we shall for the purposes of this story call him Dave (because when I can’t remember someone’s name I just call them Dave- this works for me don’t judge). I was pulled into a rather enthusiastic hug which I returned- determined that I absolutely 100% was going to make this work and I would have a lovely time and my life would get better. A hug guarantees none of these things. It makes you feel better and a bit warm and fuzzy on the inside but that’s about all. Then it’s over and your are left walking into someone else’s house wondering why your here and realising your not ready for any of it, most of all- warm fuzzy feelings.

Prior to my arrival Dave had regaled me with tales of the MEGA CLEAN that he was going to undertake, now, I am no Nigella Lawson, I hate domestic tasks and especially wiping things, however, the state of this house was really quite something. I am a well seasoned visitor of houses, usually uninvited, usually loudly and usually at 5am. I have seen some shit. This was up there with the worst. I’m not going to describe it, I don’t think I need to, however at this point the feeling that I’d made a terrible mistake was creeping from the shadowy corners in the recesses of my mind and into the the forefront of my consciousness. I could not ignore it.

It was then after some more enthusiastic hugging (this happened a lot, the more it happened, the more the warm fuzzy feeling dissipated) that a walk was suggested and I was treated to a thirty minute one way conversation about how Dave had realised that he had been avoiding things and now he was ready to face life and take responsibility (translated to- I’ve hit 35 and I’ve suddenly realised I can’t be on my own forever and regular sex with someone I don’t find repulsive would be a bonus). No thanks. I found that I’d committed many things about Dave to long forgotten memory, a hero complex, a need to feel as though he held some higher psychological power that could navigate the intricacies of the human condition. He was pious and self righteous and i found myself wondering if I couldn’t just tap out and drive home. Or murder him (this was fleeting and unrealistic. I was desperate)

When the walk was finally over and my new shoes pretty much ruined (much to my intense irritation) we went back to the house and there was more cuddling and platitudes. He spoke to me like he was giving me permission to feel ok about myself. As though everything that had shaped me into the person I am was negligible because he had finally told me that I was a good person and that solved it, I was fixed. Incorrect. I have come across many men like this, who feel that it is their job to make women feel “ok” about themselves. As though the words “you are a good person” magically transforms their lives into the front cover of good living magazine. Please stop. No one needs a knight in shining armour, there wasn’t one before and there won’t be one after. I am not a cat stuck in a tree, I’m in the tree for a reason and I’ll find my way down.

I found myself so frustrated I decided that if he wanted to be some knight in shining armour coming selflessly to my rescue then fine. He would have the whole lot of it. See how he liked that. So I told him, through tears (I do not like crying, however, this was one of those necessary evils) the long and convoluted story of my life. When it was finally over and I felt even more exposed than I had before, I apologised for being emotional and he said “It’s good, it feels like getting to know you” this statement sent a jolt through my stomach, right through the pit- I do not want you to know me- the thought screamed through my head- I don’t want anyone to know me, why am I here? What the fuck am I doing?

Obviously, in these situations, the best resolution would be to leave. I did not do this. I did not leave. I decided that the best way to deal with this hellscape of my own creation was to sleep with this man. A terrible idea. Thus ensued the worst sexual encounter of my adult life. It was awful. I suddenly remembered that this was a large part of the reason the last romantic encounter with this man ended with a blunt text message. I don’t care what people say, sex is a thing. Never settle for something that doesn’t leave you trying to remember what your name is afterwards and never settle for someone who doesn’t see the humour in the post coital waddle to the bathroom. If the chemistry isn’t there, then you shouldn’t be. During this encounter, my mind wandered on multiple occasions- is suffocating someone with your thighs murder? Wait- is he having sex? With my thigh? Oh god no...Oh there’s a mirror my boobs look excellent in this light... If nothing else I came away from this experience with a renewed love for my body that I’d accidentally seen in a grubby mirror by a grubby bed (on top of a grubby man). Afterwards I asked Dave to stroke my back, as I ask most people I sleep with (this is a sort of test, the last hurdle if you will. Held only in slightly lower regard than the sex, but an almost guaranteed deal breaker) It quickly became apparent that this, also was pointless, and when the statement “I’d really like to see you again after tonight” was made I toyed with the idea of getting in my car and driving away as quickly as possible (35mph). The honourable thing to do would have been to address my reluctance to see this man again. I am not honourable and I didn’t think I had a 3 hour drive back to London in me so I stayed put.

I woke in the morning and made the decision that I would be leaving and never coming back. I was supposed to be going to the gym with Dave but that seemed far too intimate and I longed for the safety of my little room* in a big anonymous city. So I made my breakfast in a kitchen full of dirty dishes and a sock (it seemed to fit in the cacophony of its surroundings) and when Dave was in the shower I packed my things. When he returned I informed him that I would be going home because I was shattered and didn’t want to risk the gym then driving tired. I will note at this point that he looked sort of ok in gym kit. Sort of. When he tried to pin me down about an actual date when he could come to my big anonymous city and stay in the safety of my room (the cheek of it) I managed to bat it off enough, without being rude and to stop any further questions. Again the honourable thing would have been to politely decline, again, I am not honourable and this had the potential to turn into a whole conversation I honestly couldn’t be bothered to have... So I jumped into my little car and sped off as fast as I could - 35mph ( having spent a good 5 minutes plugging everything in for the journey). A pint of coffee later and I reflected upon what I had learned from this experience-

- some people are nice people, but they don’t fit. If they didn’t fit before they won’t fit now (much like that jumper from 1995, it’s a timeless classic, and two sizes too small. Burn it) the fact they don’t fit you is not your failing, and neither is it theirs - it’s just how life works.

- Sometimes, we are fragile, and we try to mend our cracks by making huge leaps when what we really need is time to let the cracks heal, quietly and gently- no one ever mended a broken arm by playing tennis. No one ever mended a broken mind by presenting it with a thousand thoughts and feelings to process in a very short space of time

- Good sex can make you feel fantastic so enjoy it, on your terms- do what makes you feel good but remember it’s not glue. It’s not going to fix the cracks. Bad sex makes for a good story and laughter is the best medicine but it can be damaging, it can make the cracks worse. Be kind to yourself.

- Sometime a positive mental attitude is not going to cut it and you need to sit in the pain. A very kind woman told me about this once and I will never forget it. Allow yourself to feel. Be sad. Cry. Hurt. Throw some shit and eat an entire cake. Most of all understand why you feel like that and accept it. It might make you feel better. NB- this is not easy. It’s really very hard, however it’s a lot easier than dealing with the fall out from declaring your fine every ten minutes for as long as you can bear it until you shatter.

- “Did you not think to run this past me?” The words of my dearest friend on telling her the above story. I did not. I should have done, it would have saved me six hours of driving and £60. If you don’t want a second opinion it’s probably a terrible idea (or the key to eternal life- either way, find someone you trust and spill your guts)