#i won't elaborate! but we all know what i mean and it sucks! but i need the thoughts out of my brain so i can tolerate existing through

[dykethang]

the thing is if they agree then that's like. wow he really fucked me up in another extremely permanent way and another mark on my body i can never get rid of. that's cool. that's something i can process and be normal about i think.

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  ꜰɪʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx ᴛᴀᴘᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ 𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, Mushitarō, Jōno, Tetchō, Tachihara

❥ content: f!reader, nsfw, filming/photographing during sex, (rough) oral sex (giving and receiving), facials, degradation, possessiveness, breeding, outdoor sex, mild spanking

❥ this was commissioned by beloved @queenquixotic yippiiie i love you sm thank you again!!! 💜

The second you bring the idea up to DAZAI, he's honestly all for it. Really, who's he to complain when you want to film parts of your sex life? He's absolutely unashamed, too; no kink is too wild for him to capture on camera, no position is too revealing. His absolute favourite, however, is whenever he gets to hold the phone you're recording with, tilted downwards to get a good angle at you — first with your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, then with your face covered in his cum.

It'd be a relief if he knew when to stop running his mouth — or, well, at least that's what you tell yourself; the way your cunt's dripping wet between your thighs while his cum drips down the bridge of your nose tells another story.

“That's a nice shot, bella; my, you're so photogenic. Just look up — that's right, good girl. Now, why don't you lie down and spread those legs for me, hm? I need to get on camera just how wet you are already.”

While CHŪYA doesn't mind the idea — he has to admit he thinks of it as hot, even —, his cheeks still flush with heat when he nods, agreeing. Even though the mere thought flusters him, he doesn't hesitate to lie down between your legs, pushing your thighs apart with calloused fingers digging into soft skin and, really; by then, he cares more about your pretty cunt rather than the camera still recording you both.

You're all but mewling by the time his tongue flattens against your wet folds, struggling to hold onto your phone until, eventually, he's quick to put it down on the nightstand so you're able to grab red hair between your fingers. He knows just how to make you arch your back off the mattress and, hah, he already knows that's going to make for a nice shot. When he eventually pulls back, his lips curl into a smirk, saliva and your arousal alike dripping down his chin as he briefly gazes at the camera and, well — he wouldn't mind you returning the favour.

“You're so pretty, babe. Especially when you fall apart because of my tongue so easily. Hah, now, what do you think will be a better shot; you sucking me off or should I bend ya over and fuck you properly? Hm, baby?”

FYODOR's views certainly are rather traditional. It takes a lot of begging to convince him of your idea in the first place, though he mostly just means to tease you by denying you for so long. As long as the video stays between the two of you only, and he'll make sure that it will, he doesn't mind it. But, unfortunately, he's also a busy man, meaning he won't see it as necessary to move from in front of his many monitors to basically create pornography with you.

You're stuck warming his cock until he decides he's done and, well, a longer wait does make for a better reward, does it not? Unbeknownst to you, the camera's already on, watching the way you squirm and whimper in his lap. Later, he's got you in a mating press with the intent to fill you up, to breed you, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment when he angles the camera just so to film the way his cum drips out of your cunt.

“My, my, what a mess you are making, dear. The camera is going to record it all, remember? Perhaps you should clench some more. If you don't manage to keep it inside, though, I will just have to help you, hm? We did buy toys just for this occasion, after all.”

You don't seriously believe that NIKOLAI will be anything but overjoyed at your idea, now do you? He's scrambling to get a camera before you're able to elaborate and, a mere thirty minutes later, you're on your knees, your clothing strewn across the floor, your hands pushing your own tits together while his dick thrusts in between them. Your skin glistens with precum, and it's an absolutely perfect picture when you, albeit a little hesitantly, stick your tongue out to give a kitten lick to his tip. He's all too glad he's got that on camera forever.

His gleeful chuckles and giggles are only interrupted by the occasional moan when you squeeze tighter and, honestly, you can't help but squirm in place in need, your own arousal covering your inner thighs by now. For a moment, you're tempted to sneak a hand between your own legs, the thought of rubbing your throbbing clit tempting, but you're all too sure Nikolai has something planned for you already. Perhaps it'll even involve the video; an idea like fucking you properly while you're watching this exact moment on video is rather likely.

“Ah, look at you, look at you; you're so eager, hm? That's so cute. Come on, stick your tongue out again, yeah? I'll come soon, 'm close already, dove; want me to do it on your face or tits, hm? What's gonna show up nicer on camera, what do you think?”

There are no words to describe properly just how flustered the idea alone causes SIGMA to feel, though, well — he's never been good at denying you anything. While it takes a bit of convincing for him to prop up a camera the next time you're getting intimate with each other, he doesn't even seem to remember it by the time he sinks into you, your tight heat squeezing his dick so well he forgets everything but your name, which falls from his lips all too often.

Despite not actively trying, lewd moans and barely coherent strings of praise leave his mouth when he sets a slow but steady rhythm, his narrow hips slapping against your plush ones. He's putting on a show without even meaning to, the camera recording his every passionate thrust, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat until he eventually comes inside of you, panting. If you ever want to watch the video with him, his cheeks flush pink the moment you press 'play'.

“Ah—, you're so tight, God; you always feel heavenly when you're around me. And—, hah, you're so pretty, too. Absolutely breathtaking, and—, ah, and you're all mine, yes? Say it, please. Say you're mine, just like I'm yours.”

Even though MUSHITARŌ is awfully embarrassed by your idea — he's blushing and sputtering, feeling offended and flattered alike —, he's all too easily convinced when you sink down onto his lap, your smile all too confident. The red light on the camera is on, indicating it's recording already, and he's all too aware of it, though he suddenly finds it difficult to focus on anything but you when your wet heat sinks down on his, notably already hard, dick.

He's left utterly defenseless; really, what can he do but moan and whimper when you all but bounce on his lap, his hands uselessly squeezing your hips, his eyebrows drawn together and eyes squeezed shut? You're all too good at this and you both know it; even though all eloquence leaves him when your wet walls pulse around his dick, everything necessary is conversed through high-pitched mewls and whines — both yours and his. In the end he might be too shy to ever watch the video with you.. though you might just be able to convince him otherwise.

“God, ah, that's good, please, don't stop, dear, I'm close already, so close. May I—, fuck, may I come inside? You feel so good, so good around me, ah, hot and tight and—, please—”

JŌNO's smile is awfully smug when you first meekly voice your idea, but, really, who is he to deny you? He doesn't mind it at all when you prop your phone up to get a good angle of your side profile before sinking down onto your knees and closing your lips around his cock, gently sucking on the tip before sinking down further.

If you believe he's kind about your depravity, however, you're thoroughly mistaken; demeaning and teasing words leave his mouth with such ease that it seems like you're barely sucking him off at all. His hand finds it's way into your hair, grabbing at soft strands and pulling you closer until your gag reflex kicks in, tears welling up in your eyes and whimpers falling from spit-slicked lips.

“What a terribly lewd idea you had, love. Ah, but the aspect of me filming you in such a situation seems to quite excite you, hm? You're so eager today. Careful, now; you'll end up choking, and I did say I won't let you come if you have to pull off, did I not?”

Honestly, TETCHŌ merely shrugs when you propose the idea to him. He doesn't care that much either way; if you're interested in that, he's fine with it. He's not the kind to put on some act while on camera, though, luckily, you don't want him to, either — it works perfectly fine when you both moan when, finally, he sinks inside of you after bending you over the closest flat surface; in your current case, the dinner table.

Rough grunts and raspy groans leave his mouth when he thrusts into you, his pace so hard you're afraid the table's going to crash underneath you, and you wouldn't be able to stifle your high-pitched whines even if you tried to. Dirty talk isn't something he bothers with too much; if anything, he moans about how good you feel when you clench so tightly around him and, occasionally, he snickers as you flinch when his hand comes down hard on your ass.

“Fuck, that's good. You're so damn tight, feels fuckin' heavenly. Ah—, God. Hah, can't wait to see what you look like on video. Can't be better than the real thing for sure.”

TACHIHARA's eyebrows raise in surprise when you tell him what exactly you'd like to try, though, as long as the video stays between the two of you, he himself is surprised to find that he doesn't mind it at all. The first time you do it after you've suggested it isn't planned; he simply grabs his phone from his pocket after pushing you against a wall, camera angled just right so that it gets a good shot of the way your pussy clenches around his dick while he thrusts into you almost erratically.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, paired with lewd squelching noises, makes your cheeks flush with heat, and you're only grateful that he's focused on recording your cunt rather than your face. You're biting down on your bottom lip, trying hard to stifle your moans and mewls given how you're still in public, but, really, your voice is still heard loud and clear on the video, as are his own raspy groans. The video is blurry, really, but you both enjoy watching it afterwards, especially when his hand sneaks underneath your shirt again.

“Fuck—, fuck, you're so damn tight. God, you feel so good around me. Hah, we gotta be quiet, huh? Would suck to be caught like this. We're in public, after all, baby. Though, well—, I do love the way your voice sounds. Kinda wanna get it on video.”

notes: a reminder that my commissions are open!! please dm me! 🌸 also, i really ache to write full fics/drabbles again; hopefully i'll get to that soon!! 🫶🏻

tags: @pigeons-are-rad @cicada-teeth @dzaixchuu @hanakotheghost @shinwifexx @rhaeena @moonssandstars @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @alicesblog @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @Irethepotato @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann

@Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore

@ItsSara-chan @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur

[solarmorrigan]

Written for Day 3 of @steddie-week

Prompt: Mutual Pining | Rated: E | Additional Tags: Modern AU, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Hypothetical Top!Eddie/Bottom!Steve

-

Need more trope reversal with gay!Steve and still-thinks-he's-straight!Eddie obliviously pining after each other

Like, Eddie isn't into guys, but it's fine that Steve is. It's cool! Eddie is super supportive! He even helps vet Steve's dates. And whatever anyone (coughRobincough) says, he is not overly invested in Steve's love life. Sure, he might judge potential partners a little harshly, but it's for one of his best friends! Steve is great, and he deserves the best; it's not Eddie's fault so many guys fail to live up to standards.

Meanwhile, Steve is quietly dying, because he's been into Eddie since forever, but Eddie is straight, and he has to sit there and listen to Eddie extol his virtues and talk about how he deserves someone great while not being romantically interested in him whatsoever. But Steve also never claimed he isn't pathetic, so he'll take what he can get; maybe dating a guy who Eddie deems worthy will be almost as good as getting to be with Eddie himself?

Anyway, that train wreck is happening, and it all sort of comes to a head one night when Steve comes home to their shared apartment from yet another date, visibly frustrated and a bit disappointed, and Eddie isn't one to say I Told You So (much), but he had told Steve so. He'd said he hadn't liked the look of the guy's profile picture; Eddie has a sense about these things.

But still, he asks, "Bad date?"

Steve shrugs. "It wasn't- terrible."

"Oh, high praise."

"Well, it wasn't!" Steve gives a little laugh. "I mean, he was... nice."

"He bored you, didn't he?" Eddie can't help himself. "I told you he would be boring, who uses a picture of themselves in a suit for their profile on a dating app?"

"He wasn't boring, he was just- nice," Steve hedges. "A little too nice."

Eddie raises his brows. "Like... suspiciously nice?"

"No, not- we just weren't compatible," Steve says, still frustratingly vague.

Eddie is silent, staring at Steve, willing him to go on.

"In bed," Steve finally elaborates with a sigh. "The sex sucked, man."

"Ah." Eddie nods sagely. And then, because - okay, not because he's overly invested in Steve's love life, thank you very much, but because he's a good friend, right? And a good ally. And - yes, fine, he's also a little curious, sue him, but because of all of that, he asks, "You don't like 'em nice?"

Steve snorts. "I'm not saying I like people to be mean, it's just - I mean, it's kinda hot, you know? Having a guy who can push me around a little - take over so I don't have to think. Like, people just kind of assume I want to be in charge, that I'm gonna take over and-" Steve shakes his head, "I dunno, that's just not really what I'm into."

Eddie nods; this is definitely important information that he needs to have, obviously, if he's going to help Steve find The Perfect Guy. And he can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to give Steve exactly what he wants - he would be so pretty, pressed into the mattress, clutching at the sheets, scrambling for purchase, for a way to channel the pleasure as he gets fucked. Who wouldn't want that?

Like, objectively. Objectively, Steve is an attractive guy, anyone can see that, so objectively he'd probably look hot while getting railed within an inch of his life. That's just science. Surely any guy who also likes guys would be into that.

Eddie realizes he's maybe been silent for too long. "So you're a pillow princess, huh?" he teases, trying to will away the image he's got in his head of Steve begging for some guy's cock, faster, harder-

"Fuck off." Steve gives Eddie a shove, but he's laughing a little. "I am not. I'm definitely not opposed to doing some work to get what I want."

The Steve in Eddie's head that for some reason won't go away shifts from arching his back while on his hands and knees to sitting in some probably undeserving guy's lap, riding him like a fucking pro, head thrown back in ecstasy, and Eddie very much needs to go now, needs to go address the completely unavoidable boner that's come up because they're talking about sex. That's just what happens sometimes. Unavoidably. Totally normal.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind. While we're hunting for your dream guy, I mean," Eddie says quickly, levering himself up off the couch and making for his bedroom as quickly as he can without being suspicious. "Sorry the date was a dud. We'll find your man, though, Stevie, despair not!"

He barely catches a glimpse of the odd look Steve is shooting him before he shuts his bedroom door. He can't think too much on it, because his brain is busy with other things - things like initiating the most confusing jerk-off session of Eddie's life.

But they were just talking about Steve and his preferences in bed, alright? It doesn't have to mean anything that Eddie's suddenly imagining it's his lap that Steve could be bouncing in, whining and crying out as Eddie thrusts up into him, hitting him just right. It doesn't have to mean anything that he imagines putting Steve on his back, imagines Steve's legs wrapped around his waist, imagines holding Steve's hips so hard he leaves finger-shaped bruises, imagines fucking Steve until he's sobbing and still begging for more, because Eddie understands what Steve needs, Eddie can give him what he wants--

It doesn't have to mean anything that Eddie comes harder into the slick clutch of his fist, imagining it's Steve's tight ass, than he has in ages.

It doesn't have to mean anything, but Eddie gets the feeling that maybe it does.

And shit, he may have to do some self reflection.

(Meanwhile, if Steve retires to his own room to have some private time with his favorite toy, fucking himself like he wishes Eddie would, shoving his own fingers in his mouth to keep from calling out his name, that's his business. And if he didn't admit to Eddie that the biggest reason the date had sucked had simply been because the date wasn't him, well - that's Steve's business, too.)

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Nightmare | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of suicide, canon violence, canon gore, mentions of parental abuse (plsplspls heed these warnings and take care of yourself!!)

Word Count: 7370

A/N: Bye me when I scheduled this to post a day early...... goodnight. lmfao. enjoy!!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

While Dean drove and you lounged sleepily in the backseat, Sam was on the phone asking for the identity behind a license plate he’d seen in a dream. Sam had come to wake you up from a peaceful slumber in the middle of the night, shouting that you needed to leave then and there.

He didn’t elaborate much until he got in the car, but even then, his explanation was frantic and disjointed.

“Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare,” Dean tried to coax his brother.

Sam was unconvinced. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean it. Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see,” Dean said calmly.

“It felt different Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica.”

“But in those, you were dreaming about your house, your girlfriend,” you jumped in. “But this guy… have you ever seen him before?”

Sam shook his head.

“Exactly,” Dean answered. “Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan.”

Sam sighed. “I don't know.” He perked up when the man on the phone began to speak to him again. “Yes, I'm here.” Sam side-eyed you and Dean. “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?... Got it. Thanks.” Sam hung up. “Checks out. How far are we?”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “At least a couple hours.”

“Drive faster,” Sam ordered his brother.

***

When you arrived at the home of the man from Sam’s dream, you were surprised and dismayed to see police cars, ambulance, and a body bag being rolled out of the garage of the home. You looked up at Sam, who was upset, as you walked over to bystanders.

The bystanders explained that Jim Miller had been found in his garage with his engine going and the garage door closed. It had been ruled a suicide. You knew from Sam, though, it wasn’t. Speaking of whom, he walked away from the crowd and back over to the car.

“Sam, you couldn’t have done anything,” you told him.

“Then why am I having these dreams if I can’t stop it?” He sounded agitated, but you knew it was more at the situation than you.

“Sam, we got here as fast as we could,” Dean responded, approaching you and his brother.

Sam shook his head and sighed. “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” the older brother suggested. “Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all.”

The younger one shook his head again. “I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, guys. I watched it trap him in the garage.”

“Did you see what it was?” you questioned.

Sam got a little worked up. “No. I don't know why I'm having these dreams. I don't know what the hell is happening.”

You stared at Sam for a moment, as did Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “We’re just… worried about you, dude.”

“Well, don't look at me like that!” Sam was becoming more panicked by the second.

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” Dean responded. “Though, I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Nice. Thanks.” Sam made a bitchface.

You opened the door for Sam. “C’mon, dude. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“We'll check out the house; talk to the family,” Dean continued.

“Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us," you told him.

Dean thought for a moment. “Yeah, you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."

“Who?”

***

“Are you sure this was necessary?” you asked, tugging at the habit draped over your head; hair itching underneath it. You wore a long sleeve shirt with a knee-length dress over the top. Dean had decided to dress you and his brother in nun and priest outfits respectively. 

“Just trust me,” Dean answered. He rapped his knuckles on the door of the Miller household where they were having Jim MIller’s wake.

Sam sighed. “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Yeah, but it’s the most put-together your hair’s ever looked,” you smirked, referencing the copious amounts of gel you’d combed through his hair.

Sam deadpanned at you just as the door open.

“Good afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Stanley and Sister Frehley. We're new junior clergy over at St Augustine's. May we come in?” Dean introduced.

The man nodded.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam told the man who had let you inside. 

“It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed.”

You could hit Dean. He was really laying it on thick.

The man snapped, “Look, you wanna pitch your whole 'Lord has a plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead.”

“Roger. Please!” a blonde older woman scolded from behind him.

“Excuse me.” Roger left.

“I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's… he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?” the woman, who you assumed was the former Mrs. Miller, asked.

“That would be great.”

Dean sat on the couch next to you and Sam took the armchair. Ms. Miller poured each of you a cup. “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all god's children,” Dean smiled.

You shot him a look, waiting for the woman to walk away. “Tone it down, Father,” you whispered to him.

Ms. Miller returned before Dean could reply to you, and he instead spoke to her. “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that.” Her voice began breaking. “We had our ups and downs like everyone, but we were happy. I just don't understand… how Jim could do something like this.”

“I'm so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam told her. 

Ms. Miller looked behind her at a boy leaning against the wall whose face was etched into a scowl. “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?” Sam asked. 

Ms. Miller smiled. “Oh, thank you, Father.”

You looked around the living room as Sam walked away. “You have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?”

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answered.

“Some of these old houses bring all kinds of headaches,” you continued. “Weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night. That kind of thing.”

Ms. Miller shook her head. “We don’t have any of that. It’s been perfect.”

Dean pursed his lips. “Huh. May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it's just up the stairs,” the woman responded.

Dean stood, taking a cocktail sausage on his way up the stairs.

“I apologize for Father Simmons. He’s… still learning,” you sighed once Dean was out of earshot.

Ms. Miller gave as much of a laugh as she could muster. “It’s okay. He’s got a good heart.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you for your time,” you said, and began discreetly heading up the stairs. 

When you met Dean and Sam on the second floor, they shook their heads indicating they knew the question you were going to ask.

“Seriously?” you chewed the inside of your lip. “Nothing?”

“Zip,” Dean answered. 

“Okay then. Back to square one.”

***

Sam left you and Dean alone in his motel room for a bit to do some research on the Miller home’s history. You helped him clean weapons he’d brought to his and Sam’s motel room. 

You took the floor. You always did. You just liked to sit on the floor as opposed to the itchy quilts that normally adorned the motel beds. And it gave you more space to spread the weapons and cleaning supplies out. Without looking up at Dean as you continued to polish Dean’s handgun, you asked, “So, what’re your thoughts on your brother’s sixth sense?”

Dean blew out a huff of air. “I don’t have any thoughts.” 

“Dean, don’t lie to me. Spill.”

He hesitated. “I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not psychic. My mom wasn’t. My dad isn’t. So where the hell would he have gotten it from?”

“I’m not sure,” you said earnestly, pursing your lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Does he scare you? I see the look on your face sometimes, especially over the past few days. I can’t exactly place what it means.”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he sighed. “I mean, I’ve known this kid his whole life. And suddenly he— he’s predicting people’s deaths? Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Well, there’s the difference. It scares me that he’s going through this, but he doesn’t scare me. He’s still Sam,” you answered.

“Well, yeah. Obviously he’s still Sam. I just— I guess I’m less scared of him and more scared for him. I don’t know.” You could practically see the gears in his head turning.

You stared at him as he continued wiping down his weapons and cleaning the chambers of his guns. You decided the reason why your gut had churned over Cassie in Ohio was because you were used to being the only woman in his life. You loved how honest he was starting to get with you; especially because you didn’t even think he was that honest with himself.

“What?” His question broke your train of thought. 

“Huh?”

He smirked. “You’re staring. See something you like?” 

You scoffed. “You wish. I was thinking.”

“ ‘Bout what?”

“That’s confidential,” you remarked. 

He gave you a look. “Mm-hmm.”

Sam came through the door at that moment.

“What do you have?” Dean asked his brother.

“A whole lotta nothing.” Sam sat on the bed next to your spot on the floor. “Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built.”

“Not even the land?” you questioned.

“No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property.”

“Hey, man, I told you,” the older brother said, “I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada.”

“And the family said everything was normal?”

“Yeah, nothing I asked rang any bells for Ms. Miller,” you replied.

“Well, even if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?” Dean added. “I used the infer-red thermal scanner man, and there was nothing.”

“So what, you guys think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?”

“I don’t know. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house,” Dean answered.

Sam began rubbing his temples. “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house.” He paused and took a deep breath, holding his head. You straightened up in confusion. “Maybe it's just— Gosh.” Sam was clearly in agony. “Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

He started to groan and sink to the floor next to you. “My head.”

You put your hand on Sam’s shoulder to steady him while his brother crouched before him. “Hey! What's going on? Talk to me.” Dean was desperately trying to get his brother’s attention, but it seemed he was zoning further and further out. Sam’s head would have hit the floor if it weren’t for you and Dean holding onto him when he dropped.

“Sam?! Sammy?!” Dean began shaking his younger brother by either side of his face trying to get him to wake up.

You jumped up to go get him a cold towel for his head. While you were in the bathroom searching for a washcloth to dampen, Sam shot up. “It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller.”

***

Sam made you and Dean leave pretty much immediately. Dean was trying to remain calm for his brother on the way to Roger Miller’s apartment, but it was clear to you he was beginning to freak out. 

“If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over. Y'know, cause the upholstery…” Dean sassed. 

Sam’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Just drive, Dean.” Sam looked over to his brother, huffed out a breath, and looked back to the road. “I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful.”

Dean briefly looked over to him. “Come on man, you'll be alright. It'll be fine.”

“What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?”

“We’ll figure it out, Sam,” you assured him. 

“We've faced the unexplainable every day,” the older brother added. “This is just another thing.”

The brunet shook his head. “No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out.”

You looked at Dean expectantly.

“This doesn't freak me out.”

You leaned over the seat and hugged Sam around the shoulders, and you could feel some of the tension leave his body as you did so. 

***

You and the boys were just a second too late. Roger wouldn’t let you into the apartment building, so you opted to sprint up the fire escape. In the midst of you running up the steps, you heard metal grating against metal and a wet squelching noise.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, urging yourself to go faster. You made it up the stairs just before the other two could and discovered Roger’s head lying below his apartment window in a flower box. Your stomach churned, but you knew you had to get out of there quickly. 

“Start wiping down your fingerprints,” Dean told you and Sam, holding out his bandana to his brother, “we don't want the cops to know we were here. Come on, come on!”

You used your jacket sleeve to push up the window of the apartment that led to the fire escape. “Dean, I’m gonna take a look inside. You coming?”

He followed you in to quickly search the apartment before you hit the road once more. Just like at the Miller’s house, you saw nothing.

“I saw something, in the vision,” Sam explained once you’d gotten back to the car. “Like a dark shape. Something was— something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?” Dean questioned. 

“No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you think, like a vengeful spirit?”

“I mean, potentially,” you responded. “Some spirits ‘ll latch onto families, follow ‘em for years—”

“Angiak, Banshees,” Sam added. 

“Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy.”

“And now the something is out for revenge,” Sam continued. “And the men in their family are dying.”

“Hey, you think Max is in Danger?” you asked.

“Let's figure it out before he is.” Dean drove faster.

“Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people,” the brunet continued.

“What's that?”

“Both our families are cursed.”

‘Oh, shit,’ you thought.

Dean huffed. “Our family's not cursed! We just… had our dark spots.”

Sam snorted. “Our dark spots are… pretty dark.”

Dean’s face scrunched uncomfortably. “You're.... dark.”

“I think you guys are just weird,” you laughed.

“You’re… weird.”

“Dean, I feel like I’m listening to your brain short-circuit in real time.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

***

You and the boys went back to the Millers’ house dressed in your priest and nun outfits. The shifty boy from the funeral that Sam had talked to opened the door. 

“My mom's resting, she's pretty wrecked,” he explained. “All these people kept coming with like, casseroles? I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole.”

Sam smiled sadly, and Max smiled back. He gestured to the living room and all of you took a seat.

“How are you holding up?” you asked the boy.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Your dad and your uncle were close,” Sam added.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.” Max’s tone made him seem uncomfortable, and something about him had you uneasy, too.

“But not lately?”

“No, it's not that. It's just… we used to be neighbors when I was a kid,” Max explained. “We lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”

Sam nodded. “So how was it in that house when you were a kid?”

A look of surprise crossed Max’s face. “It was fine. Why?”

“All good memories?” Dean pressed further. “Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?”

Max shook his head. “What do ya....why do you ask?”

Red flags were popping up in the back of your mind repeatedly. Your hands clenched your skirt tightly. 

“Just a question,” Dean answered.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy.”

“Good. That's good. Well you must be exhausted. We should take off.” Something in Dean’s voice told you that he was sensing the same things you were.

***

Once you were back at the motel and changed, you went to the boys’ room.

“Guys, something is not right about the way Max was acting,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean responded. “I think we gotta go visit that house.”

***

And so, you did. The three of you headed to the edge of town to visit Max’s childhood home. 

You found a man outside of his home tending his garden when you and the boys arrived at the Millers’ old home. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Dean asked.

The man responded, “Yeah, almost twenty years now. It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?”

You shook your head. “No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” the older Winchester added.

“Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?” the man asked you.

You tilted your head in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street; he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of.”

Your heart clenched. You knew exactly what that was like.

“This was going on regularly?” Sam inquired. 

“Practically every day,” the older man explained. “In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy. But the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

“Now you, said step-mother.”

The older man looked off as if remembering. “I think his real mother died. Some sorta… accident. Car accident I think,” the man responded.

Sam raised a hand to his head and grimaced. 

You turned your head to him. “You okay?”

Sam winced but nodded nonetheless.

“Thank you for your time,” you told the man you’d been talking to. You then began to help Dean toward the car. Once you’d gotten him settled inside, his head lolled back against the seat. While Dean drove, you leaned over the backseat to keep an eye on Sam.

When he woke back up, he said, “Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing.”

“What? How do you know?” you questioned.

“I saw him,” the brunet replied.

“How's he pulling it off?” Dean jumped in.

‘I don't know, like telekinesis?”

‘What, so, he's psychic? A spoon bender?” 

“I didn't even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time— I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess— because we're so alike?” You could see Sam’s mind racing.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed frustratedly. “What? He’s nothing like you, dude.”

“Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

Dean gruffly cut his brother off. “Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.”

“Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane.”

“Sam, that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family,” you responded. You knew that better than anybody. 

“(Y/N)...”

Dean pulled over in front of the Millers’ current home. “He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him.”

“We're not going to kill Max,” Sam protested.

“Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind’?” You nearly laughed at Dean’s response despite the situation.

“No way. Forget it.”

Dean turned the engine off and faced his brother.

“Dean, He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one,” Sam pleaded.

The older brother paused. “Alright, fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else.” He removed his signature Taurus pistol from the glove compartment. You grabbed yours from under your seat and shoved it into your jeans. 

You and the boys practically broke into the home. 

Mrs. Miller and Max were standing in the kitchen. Both seemed upset. “Fathers?” Mrs. Miller asked. “Sister?”

Max gritted his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dean said. 

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam asked.

The boy seemed suspicious. “About what?”

“It's— It's private. I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it,” answered the brunet. “We won't be long at all though, I promise.”

Max nodded and went to follow you out the front door. Before Dean could open the door, the doorknob pulled out of his hands. 

“You're not priests!” Max yelled. Dean went to draw his pistol, but Max pulled it away with his powers and slid it across the floor to himself. He pointed the gun at you and the brothers, and you quickly drew yours.

“Max, what's happening?” Ms. Miller asked, voice shaking. 

“Shut up,” the boy gritted through his teeth. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I said, shut up!” Max flung his step-mother across the room, and she hit her head on the kitchen counter. The blonde crumbled to the ground unconscious.

“Max, calm down,” Sam urged, trying to gesture to you to put your gun down.

“Who are you?” Max’s eyes pooled with angry tears.

“We just wanna talk.”

“Yeah, right, that’s why you brought these!” He indicated the gun he was holding as well as yours.

“That was a mistake all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, just hear me out.”

“About what?” the teen’s voice calmed down only slightly.

“I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened,” Sam explained.

Max faltered.

“I'm having visions, Max. About you.”

The boy laughed coldly. “You’re crazy.”

“So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” Sam tapped his eye. “Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max, look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you.”

Max began to cry harder. “No one can help me.”

“Let me try. We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, (Y/N), and Alice out of here,” Sam said.

“No way,” you and Dean said in unison.

The chandelier above you began to shake. “Nobody leaves this house!”

“Max, c’mon, dude, let Sam and I talk to you. We’ll send Dean and your stepmom upstairs, and I’ll put this away,” you said, referring to your gun.

“Look, Max. You're in charge here, alright, we all know that,” Sam told him. “No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but we’re talking five minutes here man.”

“Five minutes?” Max looked over to Dean. “Go.”

Dean rushed to Ms. Miller and gently brought her upstairs. Dean took one last look at you and Sam before going upstairs.

“Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through—”

You cut Sam off. “I can.”

Max looked at you, surprised and angry. “How?”

“My parents did the same thing your dad and stepmom did to you,” you explained. “But I’m not gonna kill somebody over it. This has to stop, dude.”

“It will, after my stepmother—”

“Do you really think that’s gonna stop it?” you asked. “Really?”

He stared at you, and you felt you were beginning to get through to him. 

“Does it feel different now that your dad and uncle are gone? Do you feel better?” you pressed further.

“No, but it will,” spat Max through his tears.

“I don’t think so, kid,” you replied. “It doesn’t feel different for me. My parents are dead and gone, and it still fucking hurts.”

“Yeah, but at least you don’t have to look at them every day.”

“Can I be honest with you though? I wish I could. No matter how many times my dad hit me, I still want his approval. I still want to see him again.”

Max shook his head. “Not me. I’m happy my dad’s gone. You haven’t been beaten in a while, huh?”

You replied, “No.”

“Try last week.” He lifted up his shirt to reveal a large bruise littering his ribcage. “My dad still hit me. Just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly.

“When I first found out I could move things it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then, I knew what I had to do,” Max explained.

“Why didn't you just leave?” you asked.

“It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about… not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?” Max asked you and Sam.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my Mom's death,” Max continued.

Sam’s interest was piqued. “Why would he blame you for your Mom's death?”

Your breath caught in your throat when Max gave his explanation. “Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault.”

“She died in your nursery?” Sam questioned.

“There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!” 

You discreetly looked to Sam. 

“Listen to me, Max. What your dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real,” Sam told the boy. “It happened to my Mom too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my dad saw her on the ceiling.”

Max laughed coldly. “Your dad must have been as drunk as mine.”

“No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers.” You could tell Sam was excited by the missing puzzle piece being filled in. “This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. 'Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started six, seven months ago, right, out of the blue?”

“How'd you know that?” Max tried to remain calm, but you could tell he was intrigued.

“Cause that's when my abilities started, Max,” Sam went on. “Yours seem to me much further along but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I… you and I were chosen.”

Max’s tears subsided. “For what?”

The younger Winchester sighed, “I don't know. But (Y/N), my brother, and I; we're hunting for your Mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go, Max. You gotta let your stepmother go.”

The boy thought for a moment. “No. What they did to me? I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!”

“Max, it won’t. Don’t you get it?” You were incredulous. Had he not been listening at all? “The nightmares won’t end, dude. They still wake me up screaming. Killing your stepmom isn’t gonna fix anything. I know, dude. Trust me on this one. Please.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears returned to his eyes and a twisted smile crossed his features before you were flying through the air and into the closet. The doors slammed shut on you, and you saw a heavy piece of furniture covering the place where the two doors met.

You and Sam began banging on the doors. “Max, no! Goddamn you!”

To make matters worse, Sam started holding his head and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. When he came back-to, he shouted, “No, NO!” And the heavy furniture moved from holding back the closet doors.

You and Sam froze, staring at each other for a moment before pushing the doors open and sprinting up the stairs. You busted through the door to the bedroom you could hear Dean’s voice coming from.

“No, don't! Don't! Please. Please,” Sam begged him. You noticed the gun trained on Dean who stood in front of Ms. Miller. “Max. Max. We can help you. Alright.”

“Kid, I know it fucking sucks,” you continued. “But this, what you're doing, it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything.”

Max was suddenly a mess. His shaking hands and sweating forehead became more apparent to you as his face contorted in agony. Suddenly, he relaxed. “You're right.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, but way too soon. The gun swung around to point at Max and he shot himself squarely between the eyes.

“No!” Sam cried, and you covered your mouth with your hand.

Ms. Miller began to cry looking at her stepson collapsed on the floor. You looked up at Dean and held his gaze before crossing the room to hug him. You felt his body relax for a moment before you pulled away from him. You moved to Ms. Miller. 

“I’m so sorry,” you told her. You opened your arms to her and she collapsed into you. You held her while Sam and Dean called the police and paramedics.

You helped Ms. Miller down the stairs to her couch to answer questions for the police, and sat by holding her hand the whole way through. The woman seemed unable to focus her vision as she spoke. “Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun.”

“And these three?” The officer gestured to you, Sam, and Dean with the end of his pen.

“They're… family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun.” She looked over at the boys and squeezed your hand.

“Where did Max get the gun?”

Ms. Miller began to cry and looked up at the ceiling. “I don't know. He showed up with it and—” The poor woman began to break down.

“It’s okay, Alice,” you told her, bringing her back into a hug.

“I've lost everyone,” she sobbed into your shoulder, and you smoothed a hand over the back of her hair. 

The cop addressed you next. “We'll give you a call if we have any further questions.”

You nodded. You looked to the boys. Sam’s face was set in his puppy-dog stare, and Dean had a look on his face you couldn’t quite read. Dean jerked his head to gesture toward the car before leading Sam out of the home.

You gave Ms. Miller one final hug, and told her to call you if she needed anything. As her tears subsided, she thanked you. You left her alone in her house, and your heart broke for her. As broken as her family had been, she was truly all alone now. That wrecked you completely.

“If I'd just said something else; gotten through to him somehow…” you trailed off once you’d made your way to the car.

“Don’t do that,” Dean told you.

“Do what?”

“Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone.” You didn’t find comfort in that at all.

“When I think about how he looked at us, man, right before. I shoulda done something,” Sam added.

“Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier,” Dean sassed.

The three of you moved to your respective sides of the Impala.

“Well, I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad,” Sam said.

Dean was astounded. “Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that.”

The younger brother laughed. “It could’ve gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.”

Dean looked back to the Miller’s house. “All things considered.”

You leaned against the car’s door and curled up on your seat. Your mind raced from the scene you’d just left. Ms. Miller reminded you so much of your mom. And now, she was alone. Then there was Max. If only you could’ve said something else. And your brother. You thought of him, too. Maybe he realized that even though your parents were dead, the memories didn’t go away. Maybe that was the reason he took his own life, not the fact that you’d killed your parents. Maybe if you would have spoken to him differently, he would still be here. You wouldn’t be all alone, just like Ms. Miller. Maybe if you’d—

“(Y/N), I’m sorry about your dad,” Sam broke you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You didn’t mean to come off rudely, but you knew your tone had been cold. You could see Dean looking at you in the rearview mirror out of the corner of your eye. You chose to ignore him, and kept looking out the window.

You and the boys arrived back at the motel soon after. Night had fallen, and the three of you decided you needed some sleep before hitting the road. Once you’d showered and changed into your pajamas which consisted of an oversized band t-shirt and underwear, you heard a knock on the door. 

You opened it to reveal Dean, and surprise overtook you. “What’s up?”

Dean raked his eyes over your body briefly and realized you’d forgotten to put pants on. “Uh, nothing, I just— uh.”

You quirked a brow at him. “You just?”

“Sam told me what you told Max. Thought maybe you’d wanna talk about it.”

“Aw, Dean, how sweet. Are we gonna hug?” you threw a line at him he’d used on you and Sam multiple times. 

He rolled his eyes and scratched the back of his neck. “Nevermind,” he muttered and began to walk away.

“Wait,” you said. He turned back to you and you let him into your motel room. You and Dean sat on the floor and leaned against your bed. 

“So…” you began.

“So…” he echoed.

“What do you wanna know?” you opted for asking, not sure how to begin this conversation.

“What happened to you?”

You sighed. “My dad was just… way too hard on me. And Bubba, too. He just… if we weren’t doing something right, he’d give ‘physical punishments’ to help us correct our form. He said it was because he wanted to keep us safe. Like, when I was learning to shoot and I would miss, he’d hit my hands with the butt of whatever gun I was shooting with. Hard. He said I’d remember the feeling and it’d fix my aim. And I hate to say it, but he was right. I rarely miss a shot.” You paused, thinking of another example. “When he’d go to hit Stevie, though, I always got in the way. Which he’d then hit me for another reason. He said it was because he needed to teach my brother a lesson and I shouldn’t get in the way of the natural consequence. My brother was always bigger and stronger than me even though he was two years younger. He made us spar all the time. And if he saw either of us holding back, my dad would spar us. And he didn’t hold back at all.” You drew in a shaky breath. “I was always the smallest in the family. He made sure I stayed super thin when I was little so I could always squeeze into tight spaces. I’m pretty sure that had he not, I’d be a lot taller than I am. Maybe could pack on some more muscle, too.”

Dean just stared at you, unsure of what to say.

“And you wanna know the worst part?”

He nodded.

“I don’t even hate him for it. I wish I could. But he’s my dad, y’know? The good times were always really good. I know he cared about me and Bubba. I just… he didn’t know how to show it, is all.”

“(Y/N), I don’t know a damn thing about love, but that sure as hell ain’t it,” Dean responded. 

“I don’t know, Dean, I really haven’t seen much better examples anywhere else in my life,” you laughed uncomfortably. “I mean, hunting isn’t exactly a profession you can have relationships in. And hookups just aren’t for me; they make me feel like garbage.”

“I get it,” he answered.

“No, way, dude. You’re king of hookup kingdom,” you sassed.

“I’m serious! I wasn’t always. I’ve always… loved girls, y’know, but I didn’t always know what to do with ‘em. And some of ‘em you can just tell are using you. Even if I’m doing the same thing to them, it doesn’t feel great.”

Your gaze softened. “Then why do you keep doing it to yourself?”

“It’s a great way to blow off some steam. Besides, it’s so fun, why the hell would I stop?”

“Good point,” you shrugged. 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. 

“How the hell did we go from talking about my dad hitting me to your sex life?”

He laughed. “I have no idea. But, uh, I’m sorry all that happened to you.”

“Meh, I’ll get over it. Eventually,” you shrugged.

“I know you didn’t tell me the worst parts, though,” he said.

“How?”

“You get this look on your face when you’re talkin’ about something that really upsets you. Like your parents’ death. That’s the only time I’ve ever seen you hurt that bad,” Dean explained. “Anyway, if you ever do wanna talk about it...”

“I know,” you smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You and Dean talked for hours on the floor of your room. His shoes were abandoned somewhere, his button-up had been abandoned, and you were several rounds of Texas Hold-Em deep. You played with bullets instead of poker chips; it was all you had on hand.

You laughed at some stupid joke Dean had made as you called. A ten of hearts, seven of clubs, and nine of clubs laid before you and Dean on the ground.

He hummed. “Raise.”

You flipped up the top card. Ace of spades. ‘Fuck.’ But you wouldn’t let Dean win.

“Bet.”

“Raise.”

You flipped up the last card. Six of hearts. You fought the smile trying to work its way onto your face. “Bet.”

Dean eyed you, and you eyed him right back. You stared at each other intensely until he finally said, “Fold.”

“Yes!” You said triumphantly, falling back to the floor. 

“Yeah, whatever, we’re not even playing for real money.”

“You’re just butthurt you got beat, Winchester,” you retorted. “Don’t be a baby.”

He made a face at you. “I’m not.”

“You are totally pouting right now, dude, just admit it.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Fine,” Dean conceded. “It’s just ‘cause I’m tired; that’s the only reason you beat me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Then let’s go to a casino together sometime. We could definitely use the cash. And you’re not half-bad.”

He smirked at you. “You’re on.”

You walked him to the door after having decided he needed to go to sleep since he was driving. 

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You ignored the way his nickname was beginning to make your heart flip.

***

You and Dean had apparently not decided to go to bed early enough, and you both yawned as you packed up the car. 

“Dean, I've been thinking,” Sam told his brother.

“Well that's never a good thing,” he yawned in response.

“I'm serious. I been thinking, this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason.”

Dean slammed the trunk shut. “Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Okay? This is not your fault, it's not about you.” He headed back into the motel room, and you and Sam followed him.

“Then what is it about?”

“It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all.”

“Actually there's uh... there's something else too.”

Dean turned back around. “Ah, jeez. What?”

“When Max left me and her in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door... I moved it.”

“Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for,” Dean remarked.

“No man, I moved it. Like, Max.”

“He’s not lying,” you affirmed.

Dean paused for a few moments. “Right.” He picked up a spoon from the nightstand. “Bend this.”

Sam deadpanned, “I can’t just turn it on and off, Dean.”

“Well, how'd you do it?” 

“I don't know, I can't control it. I just— I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like… a freak adrenaline thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Dean replied.

“Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried, man? Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?” Sam was unconvinced.

The older brother shook his head. “Nope. No way. You know why? ‘Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have. Two, actually.”

“Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean.”

“No. Me.” He smirked. “And her. As long as we’re around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

Sam smiled a little and his puppy dog eyes returned.

Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and began pushing you and Sam out the door. “Now then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go.”

“Where?”

“Vegas.”

Sam rolled his eyes and walked out the door to the car.

“What? Come on man. Craps tables. We'd clean up!” Dean tried.

You laughed. “Dean could use your help with Texas Hold ‘Em, too.”

“Can it, (Y/N).”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers

[ravel-puzzlewell]

Hi! Do you mind elaborating on what you meant by "tiefling politics" on that wotr vs bg3 post? Just curious, ignore if you want

its about the fact that bg3 has a lot of tiefling characters, somehow more than wotr, and huge theme of like hells and connections to demons\devils and somehow manages to say absolutely nothing interesting about it.

in wotr we have examination of tieflings fitting into human society, ostracization and (literal) demonization of them, where even if some of them would want to help in war against hell, they are scared (frex, group of tieflings thieves you save which you can ask to help u and they are like are u kidding me, crusaders will torch us). woljif in particular is a deconstruction of selfish chaotic neutral tielfling rogue archetype, his story both exploring how both he was pushed into being a criminal bc he had no other options, but also interplay with how he then himself tends to dismiss his own agency in being able to decide for himself and choose better, forever excusing himself with "well this is a crappy hand dealt to me", his survivalist attitude of everyone for themselves vs desire for community, how when given a smidge of stability and access to decision making in council, he tries to awkwardly, but eagerly advocate for societal improvement for all tieflings, and this is one of his most sincere moments - and gets laughed at immediately, etc etc. and speaking of community, v interesting intersection between "good" and "bad" marginalized groups of mongrels vs tieflings, with Lann being self-righteous about both his moral superiority and how mongrels "have it worse", while ignoring that mongrels - and he himself specifically - are mistreated literally bc they are mistaken for tieflings.

btw if anyone wants me to talk more about mongrels vs tieflings thing, hit me up, i think there was a interesting stuff, even if not properly dramatized

meanwhile in bg3 being tiefling largely means nothing? like the refugees would sometimes like drop a line out loud about how tieflings should stick together bc humans won't help them, but like that's it. the refugees could literally be humans running from war or blue cat ppl from avatar running from capitalism and nothing in the plot or characters would need to be changed. tieflings is just cosmetics for them, like idk its cool to have colorful NPCs with fire eyes and sexy horns. And even companions wise, you know I love Karlach and tried to romance her, but being tiefling is just looks for her, its not meaningful. It doesn't matter for her backstory, she could have been a strong human from poor background who was sold out to idk, underdark. like it sucked bc she was forced to do violence and everyne was an asshole and she couldn't see sun, but otherwise it being Blood War specifically doesn't come into play. and like. Blood War has famously huge effects on ppl with hell heritage! I'm not saying she should have been Valen Shadowbreath with entire plotline about struggling with blood war calling, but like. idk, something?

my point is that tieflings and hell has a lot of lore and like, FLAVOUR in this setting, which were not explored at all. these are just ppl with horns and generic Bad Place.

and then like. devil essentialism. bg3 has central motive of how evil races are not ontologically evil, but like, devils are. sdfghjk. apparentely mind flayers can fight actual mind control if they are V Special, but all devils/demons are evil with no exceptions. karlach was in hell for 10 years and never met a single sympathetic devil. the closest one he had mocks IS Evil when we meet her in game. and I actually liked Raphael (transition could've saved her), but there is nothing particularily interesting about him, he's also straighforwardly evil. this severely limits how interesting interactions with hell are. in wotr there is a wide range from reformed succubus to most evil sadists, with every shade in between, which allows for complex stories, like that that fucked up love between that betrayer dwarf and demoness who seduced him. she's legit evil, but she also has actual twisted affection for him, and he knows she uses him, but he was pushed too far by humans and chooses her anyway. this background story is honestly has more depth than wyll's and mizora relationship, where shes just evil and he's straighforwardly martyr. when mizora offered to have fun wink wink, i immediately knew she's gonna Evil It. and she did. and she didn't even get anything out of it! it was just staining your soul to be evil:3 like ok, but boring tbh.

and like yeah war with hell is central plot of wotr, obviously it has a lot more to say and explore about it, but like. bg3 didn't HAVE to have to include so many tieflings and have us follow their stories through all acts. it didn't have to include hell in "no race essentialism" game if it didn't want to talk about it. it chose to, and when game has big chuncks of content about smth connected by a theme, i expect it to say smth about it? anything interesting? eh.

btw, this is not to say i think wotr's writing is perfect, far from it, i can talk for ages of my problems with that game's writing, but this initial phrase was from shitposts specifically comparng things in wotr to bg3, so

[roses-bel-air-darling]

In one way, at least Touya’s end is kind of ambiguous so we can make our own ideas! I mean yes, there are the implications of him dying and such. I won’t deny it still sucks considering Endeavour and all. But, in one way at least he will be able to talk with his family, reconcile with them. I like to think (might be wishful thinking on my part) that eventually he gets better and maybe lives with his family again, or something, to give him a chance at normal with his family. He might be under house arrest or something, unless he still stuck in a tank after all those years, or did die. But if he did, I like to think he and his family made peace before he did.

Idk, it’s just unfortunate how the Todoroki plot wrapped up, but at least his family didn’t push him away. Honestly I’m probably in denial with it all because maybe he is dead considering he wasn’t shown in the flashbacks, but who knows?

Toga and Shigiraki’s deaths were unfortunate, HK really fumbled on the end. Honestly I dipped when the last chapter released, and when I came back, I realized that a lot of people/blogs didn’t have many thoughts on the end. Almost unanimously it seemed everyone was in radio silence 😅

I am so sorry that this is long!

That's the tiny bit of hope I have for touya. Although, I'm trying not to be a negative nancy. There is the last volume and the official fanbook both coming out this December. We could possibly get a final update on touya. Good or bad.

Hori confirmed that he forgot to draw a few things in the final chapter and is going to put it in the final volume.

I'm not going to be cautiously optimistic. I'm just going to expect something.

Personally, before the manga ended, I was on the villain trio big save train. I was so sure they were going to get a 'happy' ending and heading towards their bright futures as it was intended to throughout the story. (Note: I won't elaborate on the whole villains bad, must die arguments. It's tiring and gets old super fast the moment those sentences are used to justify the deaths of toga, shigaraki, and touya. Different topic, different day.)

Now, looking back, I just want him to have a peaceful death with his mom and siblings there by his side and knowing he's not alone and loved. I don't want him to be alive and be a part of the society that still rejects someone like him, toga, and shigaraki. You must be a good victim to be accepted back into said society, and bad victims don't deserve a second chance, sympathy, or to be heard. Doesn't matter how much pain and abuse you have been afflicted. No redemption. Death is the only option.

Onto the last parts, with the todoroki family plot. I hated that dabi, shouto, and the rest of the family became plot devices for endeavor's "redemption."

Shouto and dabi's moments are being overshadowed by endeavors, constant apologizing, and yapping. Over and over.

Hori didn't know what to do with endeavor and it showed.

Poor shouto's arc being ruined.

The unnecessary parts of the final todoroki chapter of endeavor's talking as if touya is still a villain by accepting his invitation to Dabi's dance and natsuo's comment about that was the only time he thought his dad was a badass. It felt so off and OOC of natsuo to say that.

I lost interest during the entirety of the ACT 3 of the manga. I only cared about the villains at the time. I think hori in the end. He just wanted to end the manga. There were a bunch of breaks during Act 3 due to his health and stress, and it affected the story. Hori deserves a long, long vacation as being mangaka is draining. I also hope he recovers as well.

I'm sorry for yapping, but I felt the same that I wish we didn't get these endings for the todoroki family and the villain trio. I would say more on toga and shigaraki's outcome, but I would make this reply WAY too long. Almost a 20-page essay. 😂

Lastly, with the blogs I follow on tumblr and Twitter on the reactions I saw to the last few chapters. It was mainly negative. And yet other bigger blogs in the fandom it was crickets. I agree I think the silence was loud and clear too. I'm like... 😬

I don't go on the BNHA reddit as the posts call the ending bad cause people's ships didn't become canon. Which with shipping vs. story arcs, themes, and narratives. I only care about the story in general when I read. Shipping? Nah.

For real, tho, I just wish the manga ended on how it was originally going to.

My headcanon is that the league is in an island somewhere, just soaking in the sun and having fun. Spinner and shigaraki brought a whole TV and gaming consoles to the beach, toga swimming and teaching twice how to swim, dabi cooking some BBQ while texting shouto asking how's he's doing. Compress is getting a tan and scolding shigaraki and spinner for bringing electronics to the beach. Big sis magne is not with them as she modeling in a big fashion show.

Just a happy little misfits being a family. 💗

Sorry anon! For the long reply! I wanted to share my opinions on the ending as well. Take care!

[goodnightmemes]

THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER SENTENCE STARTERS (part two / ep5-8)

❛ Your life will take a complete change of course. Tonight. ❜

❛ Women are the natural leaders of the species. Ancient Egypt had it right. ❜

❛ I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but we have to pull together now, don't we? ❜

❛ Okay, just because the door's open doesn't necessarily guarantee you a seat at the table. ❜

❛ You're not who I thought you were. ❜

❛ I really didn't want to think it, but...you're all fucking monsters. ❜

❛ Watching you shit on your principles would have been worth every fucking penny. ❜

❛ Why, if it weren't for you, they would all still be alive today. ❜

❛ The mind of guilt is full of scorpions. And I wouldn't wish their sting on anyone. ❜

❛ I don't need nor want to humiliate you, you're doing fine on your own. ❜

❛ Smart girls are only sexy until they don't wanna fuck you, and then they're competition, and then what do you do? You take them down a peg. ❜

❛ Don't have to be smart to be dangerous. I'm not scared of rattlesnakes 'cause they're so smart. ❜

❛ I assume I'm authorized to negotiate on your behalf with this individual? Unless you object right now, I assume I'm authorized to approach these negotiations from a hostile posture. ❜

❛ You're so out of touch with your human side...you can't even listen to anything outside your own head. ❜

❛ You've got to be smart. You have to realize, you can't trust people. Not you. Not anyone. ❜

❛ I haven't seen you sleep in like...I mean, it's been a fucking long time. Like, horror movie long. ❜

❛ You are losing it, honey. ❜

❛ Or maybe I know what's actually happening here. Crazy as it sounds. If all this crazy bullshit is right, then maybe I know how to stop it. ❜

❛ Well, she's... she's quite dead. Isn't she? ❜

❛ Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be. ❜

❛ The world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. I won't let anything happen to you. ❜

❛ All these terrible things and I thought, that's when people come together. But we've never been further apart. ❜

❛ I expect he's the kind of man you call if you, I don't know, accidentally kill a prostitute and need to dismember the corpse. ❜

❛ I like to think he killed someone. I like to think he's eaten human flesh. I like to think he took a piss on the tip-top of the world. ❜

❛ Tell me it's worth it. Tell me you know the risk and I'll be there with you. I'll back you up. Just tell me. ❜

❛ Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you? ❜

❛ Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. ❜

❛ It just makes you think, you know, life is so fucking short. ❜

❛ You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority. ❜

❛ Why the fuck would you do that? I'm sorry. Why the fuck would you do that, sweetheart? ❜

❛ You smell like shit and you look like shit, and you're acting weird. ❜

❛ If anybody spoke to me like this, there would be repercussions! You do not get a free pass! ❜

❛ I'm afraid you're ringside for my reckoning, old friend. ❜

❛ I thought it was an act. I figured you just played the housewife so you could keep a roof over your head. Spread your legs or suck his dick twice a week and you're set. You never have to work a day in your life. And I thought, "Good for her, she found her angle," but...this is really you. Isn't it? ❜

❛ I thought you only existed in the movies. ❜

❛ Words got us into this, words can get us out. ❜

❛ You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. ❜

❛ There are certain things one shouldn't have to face in life. Time enough for self-reflection after. ❜

❛ You're a monster, you know that? ❜

❛ I don't normally like to get my hands this dirty, but honey, you earned it. ❜

❛ You only ever wanted to be loved by him. You only ever wanted his approval. And it's still no fucking excuse. ❜

❛ I see you now. I look at you and I see... You. The poverty of you. ❜

❛ I don't know you. The man I know, the man that I love could never… But you're not him. Are you? ❜

❛ But I didn't know! Did I? I didn't know who I was dealing with. ❜

❛ That candle will last you an hour or so, then, I'm afraid, you're in the dark. ❜

❛ I find most people have a threshold qualifier. Something or someone they'd be unwilling to sacrifice, no matter how sweet the deal. ❜

❛ The real world is Darwinian. Survival, chaos, power. Leverage. ❜

❛ You feel it. In the air. We're sitting outside of time and space. ❜

❛ This is the moment luck meets opportunity. ❜

❛ In the ancient world, we'd seal this with blood, or spit. And then later, papyrus. But, a deal's a deal all over the world. ❜

❛ We're a... virus, I think. People, I mean. ❜

❛ But everyone loves something. And in that love there's collateral. ❜

❛ I have no collateral. Collateral is leverage. And I won't be leveraged. ❜

❛ I say this with love. Let it go. Let it all go. ❜

❛ There is a lot about my job I love. But there are moments like these that bring me no joy. ❜

❛ So I say, we stand tall and proud. Bill's come due. Let's not hide here in the basement like we've got something to be ashamed of. No. Not us. You and me against the world. ❜

❛ It may not have been perfect, but you can't say we didn't change the world. How many people can say that at the end? ❜

❛ I knew I would climb to the top of the tower on a pile of corpses. ❜

❛ It don't matter in the end why you did any of it. I don't fucking care why you did it. We don't want your confession, or your rationale, or your explanation. ❜

[strongestrat]

HIIIII HI HELLO ENTROPY ZERO PEOPLE IT IS I AND I HAVE COME TO DEFEND AIDEN WALKER/BAD COP AND IF U THINK HES ANNOYING UR WRONG AND SHOULD FEEL BAD /j

Bad cop in entropy zero 1 wasn't exactly the blank slate people expect from half life games/mods, but he didn't have much depth-- all we really knew back then was that he was quippy and very good at his job. He doesn't like people at all and is loyal to the combine to a fault, but we don't know his past, what his motivations are, and we kind of don't need to. EZ1 is about survival in a harsh environment where everything and anything is trying to kill u and u just sort of stop a gigantic rebel plot by accident and u get a shiny (mandatory) promotion out of all of it.

Entropy zero 2's writing is really fucking underappreciated because it takes that basic framework and elaborates on it ingeniously. When he insults people he kills or says "people suck" its not because he's quirky or some kind of generic marvel character it's because people do genuinely fucking SUCK. They used a mentally ill man as a scapegoat for a crime he was a victim of that cost him his family, locked him in a prison/care facility and tried to "change" him. Because he wasn't "normal" to their standards. They stripped him of every single comfort and right he had, every reason he ever had to care about a human being, not just the justice system and prosecutors who failed him and the caretakers who likely neglected or mistreated him but the people who hurt his family and took his daughter and the people who likely discriminated against him simply for existing in a neurotypical society.

This also gives Aiden a degree of separation from loyalty to the combine. He's not just evil for the sake of it he wants to find his daughter Ava and the combine's family cohesion perks are the only chance he has. He's loyal but only because he has an incentive to, and he won't hesitate to kill anyone, and I do mean *anyone*, including his coworkers and a fucking COMBINE ADVISOR if he thinks they can't help him or are trying to stop him from finding Ava. He's good at his job but gets in trouble for killing other cops in a rage induced stupor (not unlike victor-sixty) and of course because these are cops and his boss likes him the chief lets him go with a slap on the wrist and "outland duty" because he is "worth 10 of those guys", and he fucking IS. And Aiden takes it like a champ bc he will do fucking anything to find Ava. His Humor doesn't resonate with everyone and that is understandable (some ppl find him annoying and hes not for everyone), but he's not trying to be funny for funny's sake! He's using it as a coping mechanism for the fact that he has nothing else left and he's being lead along in the hope that he can regain atleast SOMETHING from his old life.

And of course, there is the master template (clone cop) and wilson. I love u wilson and u are definitely the canon ending but i wish i didnt have to babysit u without feeling bad I am getting sidetracked

A clone plot is hard to pull off and in most cases fails spectacularly but in Entropy Zero 2 it just fucking works. Clone cop/master is just the older clone of Aiden but fucking UNHINGED. His loyalty to the combine is gone because he realized they're just using him as an effective tool, and the moment he gets Ava he has no reason to fight for them anymore. So naturally he RIPS OUT A PART OF HIS FUCKING SKULL AND SUSTAINS HIMSELF WITH BOOTLEG CYBERNETICS (I am not joking EZ2 is good at environmental storytelling u can find his fucking skullcap in his little laboratory just before plan B) there are so many little details I noticed on clone cop just before escorting judith on how he butchered himself just to stay independent and have a better chance at finding Ava. His will is fuckign unbreakable which feeds directly into his relationship with the player character Aiden. Clone cop is less of a clone then the Aiden u play as is!!! He even has the prototype AR2! In contrast, the Aiden u play as is clearly modified-- He's much more loyal to the combine but his will isn't unbreakable, and while Wilson doesn't directly factor into whether or not he chooses to fight the Advisor Wilson is CRUCIAL. Clone cop is methodical, using the survival skills from the events of the first game to subvert the rebels, the wildlife, even the combine-- The player character Aiden in turn is (arguably) less badass then Clone cop precisely because they modified him to be more loyal, taking away some of that incredible will and tenacity to try and keep him under wraps. This is proven in the there will be darkness ending where Aiden is mowed down like a standard grunt as soon as his memories/what makes him himself are taken from him.

THE WILSON ENDING IS THE CANON ENDING. THIS IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE.

Wilson is such a fucking important support friend for Aiden because he actually gets the chance to talk with something that isn't a human and is very sympathetic. Aiden goes from being fed up with him and using him as a survival tool to being genuinely concerned for him over the course of the game, Wilson is at first just a way for Bad cop to escape the lab beneath arbiet and maybe pick up supply caches scattered across the other arbiet facilities and sure MAYBE that's the only reason that Aiden brings him along at first but Wilson is very nice and sympathetic and he doesn't judge Aiden and it just. Gives Aiden a chance to rant about his feelings and open up and remember things instead of taking medication and bottling all of his emotions up. Wilson in turn is just thankful to escape the labs beneath arbiet and maybe have a chance at becoming an administrator AI one day if Aiden uploads him into the arbiet AI mainframe!!!! And the coolest part out of all of this is that clone cop only used Wilson as a tool and didn't really care about him but someone like Wilson is exactly what he needed to start healing!!! And the fact that Wilson is able to infiltrate the combine network undetected and free Aiden from the Combine when he's captured out of unconditional love and the fact that "hes da boss" is fucking GREATI am just fucking! Going insane!!! Its so well written!

In entropy zero 3 wilson and aiden will destroy the combine forever and victor sixty will also be there and he and Aiden will get married (real)

[boxwinebaddie]

Hi Uncle Neen! HYH! It sucks to see you struggling cuz you are a big inspiration of mine :( but you said you did your makeup the other day. Can we seeeeeeeeee maybe?

d'awwww ksahdlkdss, you are so sweet, nonnie! thank you so so soooo much, baby! xx i really needed this. i hope i heal ( i will...i have to, i am too much of an asshole to let god win, fuck him ) and i hope you heal from whatever harms you as well! you can do it! mWAH!~

-- also brb crying ;-; <3333 whenever y'all tell me i inspire you, it seriously makes me want to cry; you mean SO much to me, so to mean so much to you; it's Everything to me, my love. thank you for believing in me, know i believe infinitely in YOU and will keep fighting the good fight, living authentically and modelling pos behavior on this blog bc i take being a role model very seriously. :')

BUT ANYWAYS! sakhdlasd oh my god aaAaaAAAaa please!!! YOU ARE SO CUTE, THIS IS SO CUTE OF YOU, hELP AAAAA!!!!!! but yes, of course, of course. considering i am super bacteria nina right now and had to resign from my ( admittedly ) trash job and am no longer, at this moment, an education girlie ( besides on here, ofc, educating you on my two gay sons in love ), i can freely exist and post pictures of myself again! thank you for for giving me a safe place to do that. <3

i'll elaborate on what 'safe' means to me down below, but just for context i took this...sigh...last week, when i was told i would 'all better', just trying to feel like myself again after a month of being unmadeup and unfitted and ugly and troll-like and on death fucking row and fucking miserable as hell, i had my new hair appointment lined up, was about ready to take life by the balls again...and that shit BLUE BALLED ME SO HARD AND SAID *ravenstan vc* JK, BABY!

okay, sorry i have some really bad scarring and wounding up there by my neck so i had to cover her up but...there she is! the she beast!

as for posting pictures of myself just...please...PLEASE BE KIND. and i wish i meant that as a joke, i mean it very, VERY seriously. i am at a point right now, where i look my very fucking worst, i am weaker than i have ever been in my life, there are abrasions all over my body, which per the results of my culture ( i was right...several fucking times and no one would listen to me ) my body is trying to kill me and right now...it is Winning. ( i'm not gonna lose tho, dw, i am a nasty bitch from hell and i refuse to die this ugly, i fucking won't; choke )

tldr; I AM VERY VERY VERY SENSITIVE ABOUT HOW I LOOK. I DO NOT FEEL PRETTY, I AM LIKE ONE BAD COMMENT AWAY FROM TEARING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE AND I AM TELLING YOU GUYS I CANNOT DO THAT, I CANT CREATE ANY TEARING ON MY BODY OR THE BACTERIA WILL TUNNEL AND ITS HARD ENOUGH AS A BITCH WITH DERMATILOMANIA.

PLEASE BE NICE TO ME.

i know we shoot the shit on here and are funny and clown eachother, you guys are my family; it's what families do, but my boundary is that you can say i am pretty and be objectively kind or Please do not send me anything At ALL about how i look; i CANNOT take it rn. i know were just joking, but please, please, PLEASE Do NOT compare me to any ugly creatures, make me feel weird about any part of my face, tell me i look blurry, say anything is too big or too small…

please don’t meme on me abt my appearance...Ever.

it’s a very sensitive spot for me and makes me v anxious.

all this to say, i love you; thank you for being my home.

HYH.

-uncle nina, single ravesey mother and human petri dish

[holedaemon]

ASS RESPECT 3: Garrus and Wrex go to White Castle

It's done. We did it. This weekend Ari (@freakpatrol) and I finished the Mass Effect trilogy. The third game is... massively flawed. There's *a lot* about it that I did not like, but despite that, it had some really profound aspects that I won't soon forget.

THE GOOD

MISCELLANEOUS

Shepard can run much longer now

They brought back weapon mods

The armor system is pretty decent, allows for a lot of customization

You can heal in battle using medi-gel again

Garrus is able to be romanced

ENEMIES

There are three factions you go up against in Mass Effect 3. Primarily, the Reapers & their forces, Cerberus, and to a lesser extent, the Geth. I'm here to talk about the Reapers' forces. In terms of design & background, they are peak. BioWare really went all out with them. They essentially took the idea of the Husks and how they are genetically altered, cybernetically enhanced humans, and applied that to most of the other races seen throughout the series. The process leaves them as former shells of themselves, the origin race barely being distinguishable. It's the perfect body horror and totally up my alley. A few of them that really stood out to me:

Cannibals

Harvested Batarians. They have a tendency to eat corpses they find on the battlefield, hence their name

Brutes

Unique in that they are a combination of Turians & Krogan. They remind me of the Tank from Left 4 Dead. Very fun to rip apart with a shotgun

Banshees

Harvested Asari, possibly specifically Ardat-Yakshi? Wasn't really clear. They resemble the Spitter from Left 4 Dead and function similarly to the Summoners from DOOM 2016. Ari HATES these things. Every time one of them screamed I'd hear "Oh I hate that noise"

SQUADMATES

The only new squadmate that really matters in 3 is Javik. You find him on a colony planet that's been overrun by Cerberus. He's a Prothean that's been in cryostatis for the last 50,000 years; when the Reapers last attacked. This is our first time SEEING what the Protheans looked like, and honestly they're pretty cool. Prothean society draws heavy inspiration from Rome & its structure, so you can imagine what Javik is like. He's a soldier; very cold & calculated, carries a lot of baggage knowing he failed his mission & his people perished, which manifests as him being a total dick, but we like Javik, so he gets a pass. The only thing I find disappointing is how he was included in the story, I'll elaborate on that later.

STORY BEATS

Okay, so let's be clear here: the story in the third game more or less sucks major balls. Turns out that's because the lead writer for the first two games left to work on fucking Star Wars: The Old Republic??? That said, there are some really profound moments throughout the story that I absolutely adore, even if they break my heart.

The first being summoning Kalros to fight the Reaper destroyer on Tuchanka. Before you run in to the arena to set off the hammers, Wrex stops you to say

You've been a champion to the Krogan people, a friend of Clan Urdnot... and a sister to me. To every Krogan born after this day, the name "Shepard" will mean "hero!"

HANDS DOWN my favorite Wrex quote.... Just. Gah. I love his development throughout the trilogy. Going from a grumpy merc with no purpose to the fearless leader of the Krogan people. It fills my heart with joy. He also calls Garrus his friend............ THEY HATED EACH OTHER IN THE FIRST GAME!!! NOW THEY'RE FRIENDS REMINISCING ABOUT THE OLD TIMES. I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!

Still on Tuchanka, this next moment hit me HARD. I can't remember the last time I cried at a video game, but this fucking got me.

Kalros has defeated the Reaper by pulling it fucking underground. We're at the Shroud ready to disperse the Genophage cure across Tuchanka. Except the Shroud has been damaged, it's coming down, and the STG (basically Salarian armed forces) has sabotaged it to prevent curing the sterilization plague. Mordin walks into the elevator leading up to the top of the Shroud, his final conversation with Shepard goes

Shepard: I'm sorry Mordin: I'm not. Had to be me. ... Mordin: Someone else might have gotten it wrong.

Hundreds of feet in the air, amid explosions, Mordin hums the same Salarian scientist tune he sang to Shepard in the second game. He pauses, the sabotage has been overridden, the cure is being dispersed; the scientist looks out over the Tuchanka skyline and smiles. Peace has been made with his fate, he can die happy knowing his wrong has been corrected. He picks up singing his song, but before he can finish the verse, the top of the Shroud explodes. That's the last we see of Mordin Solus.

Compounding the loss of Mordin, during a conversation prior to the events of Tuchanka, he tells Shepard that the Genophage needs to be cured. He does not relent that it was the correct thing to do for the time, but the circumstances have changed and it needed to be stopped. Shepard also asks him what he plans to do after the war had been won. Mordin talks about spending his final days on a warm beach, collecting seashells. The commander retorts saying he would go crazy within an hour, the Salarian responds saying he might run tests on the seashells.

I was really torn up about Mordin for a few days following this LMAO. He really grew on me over the course of the 2nd and 3rd game, hands down one of my favorite characters. Seeing him go sucked a lot, but I'm glad he was able to do it on his own terms. Curing the Genophage was the right thing to do, and I think it really added a lot to his character. He gave up his life so many, many Krogan could live. I love that a lot.

There's one last moment that really stuck with me.

The team is on Rannoch, the Quarian home world. They just defeated a Reaper that was transmitting a signal to control the Geth. Besides controlling the Geth, the Reaper transmission was also upgrading the synthetics. Their consciousness was on par with that of an alive being. Legion reveals to Shepard that he still has this code running in his systems. If he were to upload it to the Geth collective, the entire race would be upgraded to become fully sentient & alive. The commander agrees, telling him to get started, and asking Tali to delay the impending Quarian attack on the Geth. After some bickering with the Quarian admirals, the fleet hold their fire. Legion says

Legion: Error: copying code is insufficient. Direct personality dissemination, required. Legion: Shepard-Commander, I must go to them. I'm... sorry. It's the only way. Tali: Legion, the answer to your question... was yes. Legion: I know, Tali, but thank you. Legion: Keelah se'lai.

Legion falls to his knees in front of the Rannoch sun. In his final moments, he achieved true sentience, evident by his use of "I" instead of "we," as well as calling Tali by her first name. He was an equal, he was a person, he was truly alive. Through his actions, Legion brought on a new era of peace between the Geth and Quarians. In the days following his death, the Quarians had returned to their home planet and started to rebuild with the help of their newfound allies. The Geth's assistance was speeding up the rebuild exponetially. Processes that would have taken years, were taking days to weeks. Some Geth also volunteered to upload themselves into the suits of Quarians, to kickstart their immune systems. This would make the environmental suits the former nomads wore irrelevant in a few short years.

Losing Legion hurts A LOT. He was my precious baby boy. Everything about his death compounded the loss tenfold. The fact that he achieved personhood; the way he fell in front of the sun; his uttering of keelah se'lai as he keeled over... just. UGH. Much like Mordin, his death was not in vain. Had he not done what he did, the Quarians would have been wiped from the galaxy by the Geth. He managed to save two civilization and end a 300 year conflict. This has really, really stuck with me. Genuinely one of my favorite moments & outcomes in any video game, period. I love Legion, I love the Geth, I love what they all stand for & represent, and how they grow over the course of the series. It's fucking awesome.

THE BAD

That's about all I have in terms of good things, now onto the bad.

ACCESSIBILITY

Mass Effect 3 took a step backwards from 2 in terms of accessibility. The second game was perfect; menus were simple and concise. I actually knew what I was doing & where to go. That's not true of 3!!! Shit's back to being convoluted & confusing!!! I look at a menu and say "what the fuck is this?" It sucks!!!!

The other thing is the galaxy map. On the map overview, it tells you the description of missions in certain systems, not the name!!!! So you'll just have shit like "go to Anderson's apartment" appearing over nebula & shit, like what???

Your journal is a disaster too. Missions, both main & side, were grouped together in one tab, so you can't easily decipher which is which. They also decided to remove mission details, rather only giving you a vague description of what you needed to do??? Extremely frustrating.

GAMEPLAY

The movement sucks. It's like halfway to where it needs to be. I gotta give them credit for trying to make it good, but they just fucking floundered. Everything is done with the space bar, and so fucking often when I tried to interact with stuff, Shepard would take cover or do a fucking roll in the wrong direction instead of doing what I wanted her to do. It got genuinely annoying.

Another big issue were missions. For some reason, BioWare decided that missions should expire in this game, except they don't tell you when!!!!!!! SO YOU JUST HAVE TO GUESS!!!!!!! COMPOUNDING THAT, THEY GIVE YOU SO MANY MISSIONS. Literally I had like 20 missions at one point. Most of them were just fetch quests too. The formula for fetch quests is basically as follows:

get mission from random NPC

go to system

ping map to find scannable locations

uh oh, you probably alerted the Reapers. Which means you can't scan in peace without doing a mission.

if you can somehow avoid the Reapers, scan location for random junk until you find your fetch quest item

take it back to random NPC

rinse & repeat 100,000 times

Not a big thing but they... got rid of all of the minigames? There's no more hacking minigames, rather when you need to access an area, you just interact with the door & stand there for a few seconds. Again, not a big deal, but definitely a step in the wrong direction. There's also no resource collection, which I really enjoyed.

Again, this one is less of a problem but just kinda weird. The game is fucking easy. I died less than 10 times in combat. I didn't even know you could heal with medi-gel till the finale. I barely ever had to take cover, I could just run & gun and be fine. Compare this to 2 where I was dying left and right. My performance in the prior game was so dogshit that I think Ari was starting to get annoyed by it, so often would they say "BABE TAKE COVER," meanwhile I'd look like this

SQUADMATES

I was really kinda disappointed with the squadmate selection this time around. The last two games had so many different characters that I really jived with, but 3's selection was pretty lackluster. So as soon as I could, I took Garrus everywhere with me, and would switch between Javik & Tali for the secondary. Not bad, but not ideal. I don't really like human squadmates, so I never picked James or Kaidan. James is just too dude-bro military hot head for me; Kaidan's a whiner & got really annoying. Giving EDI a body was unnecessary, but cool I guess? Her relationship with Joker was cute. Never really cared for her much as a squadmate though. Liara was also just kinda... meh. I think I was really just spoiled by having Wrex and Legion as options in prior entries.

THE CITADEL

Okay this is a quick thing: you spend WAY too much time on the Citadel. This kinda ties back into my complaints on missions, but, I swear a huge portion of the game is spent there, doing side missions. It's fucking boring, man. I really did not enjoy any of the time spent in between priority missions. The citadel is novel at first, but by the end of the game, you've spent at least a few hours just running between the same 4-5 floors picking up quests, turning quests, listening to NPCs. GAH.

THE STORY

Okay, so like I said, Mass Effect 3 has some really good subplots that I enjoyed a lot!!! Overall though, dude, the story is just... weak, the ending especially. Ari and I spent some time reading the Wikipedia article detailing the controversy surrounding this game, and it makes sense. Like, once BioWare lost the aforementioned writer for the first two games, everything just went to shit.

The first thing that really irked me is the child Shepard sees die and his subsequent use throughout the story. Sure, alright, seeing someone so young die is traumatic, but why does it hold so much weight?? Shepard has seen thousands die, personally, she has taken the lives of at least 300,000 people, why does a single kid she never even spoke to for more than a second keep popping up? There's zero substance here. Keep the trauma, keep the dream sequences if you must, but use the people that really matter. Mordin, Legion, Thane, Ashley, I guess, even her fucking parents or squad on Akuze! USE ANYONE BUT A RANDOM CHILD!

Now, let's address the elephant in the room: the ending. That travesty blows shit out of ass, dude. Why is the aforementioned child there? What do you mean there's this intelligence that was created to solve a problem? What even is the problem?? Oh, it's that synthetics and organics don't really truly understand one each other? Okay. Why is that just now becoming the overarching problem of the series? Where was that concept in the first two games? The introduction of this intelligence, the Leviathans, and the "problem" really diminishes the story. It explains away the mystery of the cycle. It diminishes the Reapers a lot! Before, they were these mysterious, almost god-like machines from beyond the veil of reality. Their purpose was unknown & said to be incomprehensible to a normal mind. Turns out they just harvest the universe because it "solves a problem?" Like, fuck off, dude lmao. Giving any context whatsoever to the Reapers and their motives was a bad idea and really killed the magic that they brought.

Anyway, as you finish up talking to the child, you are giving three choices

Control the Reapers

Destroy the Reapers & all synthetic life (EDI, the Geth)

Use your DNA as a template for life to combine & share the same DNA between all species, organic & synthetic alike. (AKA the Synthesis)

Ari & I chose the last option, as it's allegedly the "true ending." Well, when you do that, Shepard jumps in the crucible, turns to mist, a huge explosion of green energy crosses the galaxy through the mass relays (breaking them in the process??), and everyone becomes cyborgs & "understands each other." Reapers & their forces stop fighting and begin to help rebuild the galaxy. Everybody glows green now? It's not well explained and even if it were it's stupid as fuck. Besides that, you're also violating the bodily rights of the entire galaxy?? Forcing change at a DNA level without anyone's consent?? Kind of a weird way to resolve a war. Furthermore, what about the Reaper's abominations? They're all sentient now! They're not fighting anymore! What do you do with them? What they once were is barely even recognizable!!

THE DLC

Alright, last talking point: the DLC. DLC is not a new concept in the Mass Effect games, and while it was not a big deal before, this time really bugged me.

Before I start: the DLC involving Aria & taking back Omega was really fun, I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways.

First off, JAVIK IS DLC????? THE PROTHEAN CHARACTER THAT IS SO VITAL TO THE STORY IS DOWNLOADABLE CONTENT THAT COSTS EXTRA???? REALLY AWFUL DECISION BIOWARE.

Second, the Leviathan DLC. I love the Leviathans, they're really cool creatures in design & concept. But again, their introduction and involvement in the story just Ruined the Reapers pretty much entirely. It sucks. I wish they were better utilized. Also, again, to put something so """important""" to the story in a DLC??? Fucking lame.

Finally, the house party DLC. It was fucking AWFUL. The entire mood of it does not fit the game ONE BIT. Every other sentence is some weird, unfunny quip. Brooks as a character is just fucking annoying. You're running around chasing your clone??? Then YOU HAVE A PARTY??? The dialogue throughout the party is just fucking awkward and forced. Kasumi and Saeed are there for some reason?? It just sucked. I could go on for hours about it but I'm just burned out even talking about this shit.

Overall, a really, really disappointing end to an otherwise fantastic series

Fuck this

[pro-depresanti]

~Valastor Week 2024~

prompt list by @valastorweekofficial

Day One: Fake Dating

Summary: Valentino needs to crash a wedding. Alastor has an idea. Sprinkled in background Tattoo Artist/Flower Shop Owner

Setting: Modern times, Living world

Word count: 976

Warnings: implied murder

──────

"Excuse me, I don't think I heard you correctly. What did you just say?!"

Working in a flower shop had caused Alastor to hear many, many, many strange requests – how to say 'suck my dick, you fucking asshole' in flower language, what to grind up to make poison, why did a plant die when it had been kept in a dark basement, and such. But 'Can you come to a wedding with me', had to be the weirdest one.

Well, Valentino was a strange man in his own right. Owner of the tattoo studio opposite the flower shop, coming in occasionally to browse around or ask about flowers with certain meaning for a tattoo he was designing. Alastor had had quite a few conversations with the man, but he wouldn't call him anything beyond an acquaintance, a work neighbor if you will.

Valentino palmed his forehead and groaned. "My ex is getting married, but we decided to remain friends, so he invited me to the wedding and I can't go alone, so could you pretend to be my date for a few hours?"

Alastor blinked quickly, trying to catch the metaphorical thread of the story and how all of it had anything to do with him. "Care to elaborate a bit more on that? Or why you're asking me?"

"Well, " he gestured vaguely around himself, ever the animated character, and Alastor could clearly see the frustration growing, "all my other options are either already going to said wedding, or declined, and you're the last person left, and if you refuse too, I'll look like a lonely loser and–"

"And that ex of yours, that's supposedly a friend, wouldn't find it suspicious that you randomly got a partner?"

Valentino shook his head confidently. "We have barely talked in the last five years, it will be fine. So, what do you say? Free food, free drinks, some change of scenery."

Alastor wasn't the type to get hyped over such gatherings. Plus, knowing Valentino, the kind of people he'd be friends with weren't his type of company. "I'll consider it."

──

"– and she's, what, half his age? That stuck up prick doesn't deserve to marry such a woman, I'm telling you! She's just doing it for the money, which is fine and all, but Vox doesn't deserve her!"

Somewhere along the way, Valentino had started hanging out in Alastor's shop on a regular basis. At first with the pretext of needing some peace and quiet to draw, then to ask for featback on his designs, then to bring Alastor coffee as thanks and have a small talk.

In reality, Alastor thought the reason was so someone can listen to Valentino's temper tantrums. Which is exactly what he was doing now. Not like Alastor minded that much, per say, but the conversation was more often than not one sides.

"– so I was thinking, 'Hey, why don't I just crash the wedding?'. Ruin the cake, or something."

If Alastor had motor control of his ears, they would have perked up. He put down the bouquet and turned around to face Valentino, who was currently in his usual spot on the wooden bench by the shop window, sketchbook in hand. The artist wasn't even looking at him, instead scribbling down something with enough force to tear holes though the page.

"You really want to ruin the wedding?"

"Well, yes. Obviously," Valentino replied mindlessly. "No, the cake won't be sufficient enough. And it would be too obvious."

"I think I have an idea."

At that, Valentino finally looked up. "I'm all ears."

Alastor grinned. "When and where's the wedding taking place?"

"Why?" Good question.

"You still need a plus one?"

──

Alastor wasn't that big on physical contact. It wasn't exactly aversion, but he would never initiate it first. So walking around exchanging pleasantries with strangers, while having elbows locked with someone a bit more than a stranger, wasn't his cup of tea.

Still, he was a good performer, so was Valentino. They had run through Alastor's yes's and no's beforehand, and thank God they had, because Valentino would have had them exchanging tongues to make it more convincing. Compromises were made, a lot on Valentino's side, considering it was no secret the man had lost his shame years ago.

But, overall, Alastor wasn't hating this. The open bar certainly helped. Plus, the nasty looks they were getting were to die for – Alastor with his cream (but not white enough to be considered outright disrespectful) dress shirt, and Valentino's matching pants. Plus, the obnoxious amount of gold jewelry and the fluffy collared coat, easily drew too much attention to the tattoo artist.

Delightful. Absolutely delightful. Alastor should have gone to more doomed weddings. And they hadn't even gotten to the best part yet!

Alastor could see Velvette, the bride, running around frantically, at first nervously whispering, but now full on shouting as to the whereabouts of the priest. Vox was torn between trying to calm her down and screaming into his phone, trying to call anyone and everyone to hopefully figure out what the issue was.

Alastor could tell them right now. Not his exact whereabouts though, the river was quite unpredictable this time of year, the mangled body could have been floating anywhere. The other parts of him, meat and teeth, were in Alastor's freezer and basement respectively.

In the chaos, Valentino pulled Alastor to the side. "So, are you finally going to tell me your plan?"

Alastor shrugged. "As you can see, the wedding won't take place. Not today, at least."

Valentino sighed. "Until they find the guy. Then what?"

"The priest isn't coming," Alastor replied with a shrug. "Now, can we go get another round of drinks, I'm getting thirsty."

"You–" Valentino stammered, "you–" he took in a deep breath. "Alastor, what did you do to the priest?"

No answer. The flower shop owner was already heading to the bar.

──────

Author note: I'm not proud of this one lol. I could do better but I'm a bit busy with exams and procrastinated hard. Also, this is my first ever daily challenge and first time writing for those two so I'm still figuring out their voices, I'm trying my best😭😭😭

[c6jpg]

dainsleif quest

the lore drops. fucking impeccable. but also i feel edged the fuck on. like we learned a liiiiiiiitle but also get 10 thousand unanswered questions as well

that's pretty standard for dainsleif quests though ig

the quest itself. can we even call that a quest it was so anticlimatic ajkdfladjsf like just content-wise i think that genuinely might have been our worst dainsleif quest the lore was CARRYING this shit and all we got was more questions and it felt SO short

as an aside its also criminal how long apart these quests are bc i honestly already kinda forgot what happened in the previous one (caribert) and i had to like. really use my brain to remember the lore we got then

DAINSLEIF BROTHER????????????

just in general like. my mind was exploding when we were talking about the five sinners of khaenri'ah. i want to learn more about them so bad

"i'll tell you all you want to know" YOU'RE NOT TELLING US ENOUGH DAINSLEIF ELABORATE

WE DESERVED A PROPER DAINSLEIF VS ABYSS TWIN ANIMATED FIGHT CUTSCENE. HOW DARE YOU JUST FADE TO BLACK ARE YOU KIDDINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

ngl when we first saw caribert i actually thought this might be dainsleif's brother and i was like NOOOOOOOOOO THEY CAN'T NPC DAIN'S BRO

i just KNOWWW his brother is gonna be so sexy whenever they reveal him. sorry i had to say it. anyways.

caribert man... his whole deal honestly felt like a sidequest within the quest but that was sad :(

not to be a #scarastan but i was just thinking so hard about the parallels between caribert and scara, implanting vs removing oneself from the memories of the world. both doing it to bring comfort to others, even if futile. i'm not smart enough to expand on this but i'm sure yall know what i mean

anyways okay. so the loom of fate can weave ley lines, that name makes sense now. now can literally anybody please explain what the fuck yall want to do with it

honestly the twin reunion scene felt kinda. idk. flat? like i was more hyped about the abyss twin vs dainsleif part kadjlsflds (speaking of which the way dain clenched his fist lmaooooooo i was just thinking of that one arthur meme)

i do love the detail that the twins call each other by their canon names though

was kind of 🙄 when we got hit with the "yeah btw you won't remember any of this once we're out of here." okay plot convenience

actually is it even plot convenience? like literally what harm would there have been of the traveler remembering???? what are they gonna do???? the only actionable thing of substance we learned was that the loom of fate was completed which dainsleif should have figured out anyways since he got the eye taken from him????????

actually i think it was great that dainsleif got bamboozled though. dude has been carried by plot armor for too long

sea of flowers mention interesting (i have no thoughts on this just interesting esp since i'm pretty sure that's the place shown in the teyvat trailer)

so basically confirmed the heavenly principles are asleep/inactive for some reason. idr if it was explicitly mentioned before. i actually DID wonder why we didn't get some celestia nail action smiting after all the shit that happened in fontaine, a lot of people thought that was gonna happen too with the whole celestia is floating right over fontaine

and then we wake up and the quest just ends??? LET ME TALK TO DAIN HELLO

also like. why did dain want to confront the abyss twin again??? maybe it was mentioned in an earlier quest and if so i forgot but either way i don't understand wtf dain was up to by luring the abyss twin out

no literally that felt like half a quest

objectively i think that quest kinda sucked but i will forgive it solely because of the lore drops no matter how tiny they were and bc i did really like caribert's story

[lythea-creation]

Brighten My World - Tasneem x fem reader (Chapter 4)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

warnings: threatening, mentions of toxic parent

word count: 1.210

---------------------

“Hey, (f/n). Why have I never been over at your house?”, Tasneem wondered on our way to eat lunch.

She was feeling more confident with eating around me by now and I was always right there if her mind was trying to trick her.

“Um … I dunno. I guess it just never happened”, I supposed. “You didn't miss out on anything though.”

“I know you talked to my mom”, she confessed.

I stared at her with wide eyes, not daring to say anything as I was waiting for her to elaborate.

She pushed my shoulder playfully, making me stumble a step to the side. “Don't look at me like that! It's all good. She actually apologized to me. She told me that she noticed my improved mood since you're around and that she wants me to stay like that, even if it means that I won't keep up with all my commitments. It feels like she's finally beginning to see me.”

A bright smile captured my face. “I'm so happy to hear that, Tasneem”, I proposed.

“Thank you”, she shot back. “Seriously. For everything.”

Her smile was making my heart flutter. The urge to take her hand in mine was almost unbearable, but I knew we had to stay low in that aspect at school.

“So … back to the initial topic. I realized that my mom is completely used to you showing up whenever and I don't even know yours”, she pointed out.

“You don't need to know her”, I insisted.

“Why are you so against it?”, Tasneem inquired.

By now we were sitting outside to eat. The weather was great, which was nothing new.

“Are you afraid that she might embarrass you? Because I'd laugh about some silly childhood stories, but it would only make me adore you more”, she continued.

“Or is it because of our relationship?” She had lowered her voice for that question.

“She doesn't need to know if you don't want to.”

“No, it's not that. We just don't have the kind of relationship you and your mom have and I'm pretty sure you'll be disappointed. Or rather upset, maybe”, I claimed.

“What do you mean?”, she questioned, concern written over her face.

“It's just … I know she loves me, in some way at least. But most of the time we're living separate lives. When I was struggling with Layan's death, she told me to suck it up and stop grieving over what's gone because I won't get it back anyway. I know she meant to give me good advice. We just don't get along that well”, I explained.

Tasneem placed her hand on my forearm, a supportive gesture I appreciated a lot.

“She's pretty much a hypocrite. She wants me to tell her about my feelings and plays the concerned mom, but the next day it's like our conversation never really happened and she just wants me to go on as if everything was fine. That's why I couldn't even talk about Layan a few weeks ago. I hadn't been allowed to grieve”, I stated.

“I'm sorry, (f/n). That's awful”, she noted.

“You helped me through it”, I proposed. “I just don't want her to screw our relationship up. You know … make 'helpful' comments or trigger you in any way. I like our life the way it is right now.”

“Me too”, Tasneem agreed, smiling. “But whether you like it or not, your mom is still a crucial part of your life and I'd like to meet her someday.”

“Okay”, I gave in. “But we'll do it on a day my dad comes home early. He's amazing, just busy a lot of the time, thanks to his job. So I don't get to be with him much.”

“It's settled the...”, she decided.

“Hey, Tasneem!”, Hiba called out, approaching us.

A smug grin was adorning her face while she was scanning the way we were sitting, Tasneem's hand still on my forearm.

“What's up with you recently?”, Hiba questioned. “Why are you spending all your time with that loner? What's your plan?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm spending time with her because I enjoy it and I'm not spending it with you because you're being a bitch about it”, Tasneem declared.

Hiba was having difficulties to control herself. At least I assumed that reading her body language before she stormed off without another word.

“I can't believe her”, Tasneem ranted.

“Maybe you should talk to her?”, I suggested. “The real kind, without just clawing at each others throats.”

“I don't think that'll do”, she presumed. “Hiba's kinda living in her own little world, thinking she's the boss and has to be in control all the time. I doubt resonating with her would work out.”

“I just don't like standing in between you”, I confessed.

“It's not you. We've been having issues for quite some time now”, she reassured me. “But that's enough with all the serious talk. Let's plan something to do on the weekend.”

Somehow changing topics was easy for once, relishing in the positive aspects of our lives. Laughing together with her just felt like every bad thing was gone. So from that point on the break ended quicker than I wished for.

At the end of the school day Tasneem and I were about to head out together like we always did. Even when I did not tag along, Tasneem insisted to walk me to the bus to cherish any moment together we could get.

But today she had forgotten one of her books in the classroom. So she had to head back while I was waiting in the corridor, close to the exit.

Everyone else had already left. At least that was what I had thought until Hiba pushed me into the bathroom that was right next to me.

“What the hell?”, I exclaimed, regaining my stance.

“What did you do?”, Hiba interrogated me.

“What do you mean?”, I inquired confused.

“What did you do to make Tasneem hang out with you? You're a loner. A nobody. Why would she want to keep you around?”, Hiba questioned, her voice dripping with disgust.

“This is between you and Tasneem. You should talk to her about it”, I suggested.

Hiba took a step toward me, getting dangerously close. Honestly it was intimidating, but I stood my ground anyway, not putting distance between us again.

“You should stay away from her”, she advised me.

“Won't happen”, I assured her.

“You'll regret that”, she warned me.

“I don't think so. But maybe you should question your behavior if you want Tasneem to be your friend because I'm pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate what you're doing right now”, I considered.

“I'm gonna make your life a living hell”, she threatened me.

“I don't think that will be possible. I've already been through hell and yet here I am. I don't go down that easily”, I promised, not suppressing the grin that was forming on my face.

“We'll see”, she alluded and left me behind.

---------------------------

Next Chapter

What do you guys think about the story so far? Just finished chapter 7 btw.

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[bwobgames]

Previous First

There's a knocking at the door

Beebo goes to open it

"Wait"

"Who's there?"

There's more knocking. This time in the rythm of the Mario Bros theme

"Nevermind its just Simon"

"What"

"Shh"

"Rude. Get in"

Beebo takes a look to the hallway, but he doesn't see anyone else

"Ángel?"

"So?"

"I saw Dad in the house"

"What?! Where?!"

"Elaborate"

"I was in the bathroom and was about to go outside when I saw him."

"He went to the corridor that leads to the patio"

"So I came here to tell the detectives"

"I found the one with the scarf by the stairs, and he told me to bunker down with you two here and keep quiet"

"Where is he now, then? With everyone else downstairs?"

"Um, I don't think so? He said he was gonna, uh... 'take care of him' and went down the stairs"

"What!? That idiot!! Just because I promised I won't die doesn't mean he can!"

"You two stay here, I'll go find him"

"I'll go too"

"Absolutely not"

"It will be a 3 versus 1, we'll be fine!"

"You are not going"

Beebo and Nadia say at the same time

"What the hell."

"Neither are you, Nadia"

"I have the right to get my father detained. You're depriving me of the small joys in life"

"What are you even going to do with him? The storm won't let you take him to the police"

"As awful as this might sound, that's currently not my priority right now, I need to see if Ángel's alright"

"We are professionals. We can handle it.

You two are not. Stay"

He leaves

He runs down the stairs, crosses the bar, and the lounge, reaching the corridor with the bathrooms

He looks through the window. He can barely differentiate anything

"Is Ángel out there? Is Mr. Coli? I doubt they could even see each other in there"

"Is he your boyfriend, by the way? Because if so, I'm judging your taste in men"

"Ugh. Teenagers"

"I believe we had an agreement"

"I didn't sign anything,

and I don't really respect you as an authority figure"

"Note to self, never have a breakdown in front of children. They are perceptive little gremlins"

"... My romantic life is none of your business, I'm taking you to your mother"

"Because I said he sucked?"

"Because there's a maniac running around god knows where and-!

Ugh, where's your brother."

"I told him to stay in the room"

"So he listens to her and not me?"

"Why did you follow me, what would you do if your father tries to kill us?"

"It's a 2 versus 1, odds are in our favor"

"Wha- you would fight your own dad?"

"There is nothing I want to do more. That man has been nothing but a curse to us. He's an asshole to Nina, he toys with Simon's feelings, he completely left Mom for dead, and I don't even think he sees me as a person, even with everyone always going on and on on how I am so much like him. It's offensive honestly.

He's a complete child who's playing with things out of his comprehension.

I understand that you are a man of the law, and this is for your principles or whatever. But even if that man hadn't committed numerous crimes, I would still fight him.

The thought of being anything like him sickens me.

Mom says that all girls my age go through that feeling"

"... I am not equipped for that conversation. We are going to your mother"

"Hey, is that your guy?"

She points to the window

"That's him! Oh, thank god he's okay"

"How can I call him over? If I scream, it might make Mr. Coli aware of our location.

Ugh, I'm asking for his phone number after this

Wait, phone!

I'll use my phone flashlight as a signal! Like a lighthouse!"

He takes out his phone and looks for the flashlight

Something about that feels... familiar.

The lights turn off

That definitely feels familiar

He has a weird feeling in his chest

"...I think we need to check on Simon"

Nadia runs towards the stairs

Oliver flashes his lantern against the window to alert Ángel and runs as well

[cangrellesteponme]

I've thought about it so much I came to the conclusion BOTH Sebastian and Claude are two different types of autistic demons, and maybe it's rare in demons so BOTH these guys are weirdos among their own kind. IT ALL MAKES SENSE.

my autistic ass agrees. so I must elaborate.

(for the sake of this, we're putting aside the fact that this hc is completely incompatible with any and all things canon.)

first, reasons they're autistic:

they're very bad at pretending to be human. you'd think millennia spent observing humans would help them suck a little bit less, but they really don't understand human behaviour at all. (just like me fr)

weird humans special interest.

repeating the same phrases a lot. this one gets two autism points because it's both scripting and a vocal stim. like, I know damn well these hoes just love saying their "yes my lord" "yes your highness" bs and their butler mottos.

butler cosplay.

low empathy. (I know that's a controversial one because it's not as common as allistics think it is, but I'm not about to go on a tangent about undesirable autistic traits and ableism) this one is not enough on its own because... why would a demon feel empathy for a human when that's a whole different species, but some people feel bad for bugs so I'm taking this as these demon butlers presenting yet another autistic trait!

picky eaters. like... seb would rather starve than eat bad food. that is autistic behaviour.

being very specific about phrasing. people never focus on what is said, but rather on what it means... unless they're autistic. (we see hannah be normal about words all the time so we can assume it's really just claude and sebastian who love being way too precise.) also seb did pretend to misinterpret o!ciel's words during the contract negotiation just to force the kid to always be direct and literal with his orders - that is peak autistic behaviour. as for claude... there are so many different instances of this in kuro 2, but him not having a clear contract with alois is another example of "you better be precise or shit will happen to you".

weirdos. pathetic loners. probably got bullied by other demons smh.

I can only think of claude examples for this one but I'm sure there are a few for seb: unmasking and being really fucking weird. think of the knitting, the disney princess shit, the tap dancing, being a weird ass spider, licking blood...

both preferring a much smaller amount of servants than what is socially acceptable.

being naturally fucking terrifying. they are autism creatures in the most horrific sense. we have the spider guy with the long tongue and the dude who's mostly black goop with teeth.

there are plenty of other reasons, but these are the most obvious ones they have in common.

them being autistic in two different ways:

flat affect vs way too dramatic. claude won't be caught dead emoting like a normal person, sebastian constantly looks deeply offended or amused by everything he sees... two very different behaviours. both autistics.

attachment to objects and animals. so, about the empathy thing, plenty of autistic people who would be categorised as low-empathy are the type to love animals and apologise to furniture - that's seb. the rest don't give a single fuck about anyone or anything - that's claude.

visual stimulation is superior vs no thoughts only tactile stim. this is me projecting and saying every autistic bitch with glasses likes wearing them a little too much but I'd say claude clearly cares a lot about colours (constantly changing everything at the trancy manor... I see how it is) while we have sebastian who likes petting cats, cares about the fine fabric of his coat enough to talk about it in the middle of a fight, is horrified when tea is poured on his hands... very stimmy demons.

ANYWAY

they're autistic, your honour.

[pagesofangels]

Thoughts on the Closing (From a Fan Who Missed Out)

I'm trying not to let the FOMO overtake me, but it really does suck to be as young as I am right now.

I see all the Phantom veterans on my dash who are over a decade older than me, been fans longer than me by extension, afford to go to the last performances. While I, a wee bab, had no chance in hell of ever affording it. Hell, I wouldn't be able to afford Broadway tickets and a trip to NYC under normal circumstances...and that's part of the reason it sucks. 'Cause now the 'glorious original' is gone forever and I never saw it (I know there's a revival coming, but we all know it's gonna be London's smaller production).

Sending so much love to everyone who got to experience that magic, it makes my heart happy that you were there! I just...really wish I could have been with you. I wish I could have stories of seeing the show 20 times in the grand Majestic.

But I never will. I'm grateful for the two tours I have seen in my life, and I can't wait until it tours again. But hearing everyone's memories of the show, of seeing the Big Names up on stage, I feel like I've only seen cheap imitations.

I keep thinking back to ALW's recent interview where he says he's not sure if a production as ambitious as Phantom will ever happen again. And I wonder if he's right.

Phantom was created in a different culture. The economy was better than it's been in a while. The internet wasn't a thing and therefore more people overall were more interested in theater. If someone were to try and create a huge expensive stage production today (I mean STUPID expensive, like Phantom is), it would never get off the ground. Hell, it probably wouldn't even be green-lit.

That makes me sad...that when the day comes that Phantom truly is not profitable anymore, there won't be anything of its prowess to replace it. The art of live theater may not be what it once was, because people's interests move on to other things. Money is spent elsewhere. That's what I see happening to the book world, but that's a topic for another post.

I think what I'm trying to express though writing all of this, is that a part of the reason I'm sad this production is closing is because it might be the end of truly spectacular stage shows. The revival will be smaller, with less elaborate special effects and less of a live orchestra......all because it's cheaper. All because you can get away with doing less impressive things.

I'm upset because this almost confirms my lingering fear that the arts are slowly starting to decline in quality, all for the sake of money...

...and I never got to see it at its peak, because I simply was born too late.