#it’s weird losing the privilege of having a person care about you and it’s making me sad and confused :

[the-bluestreak-cat]

Feel miserable. Remember it’s all wrought by mine own hand. Feel miserabler.

[babydollmarauders]

GOODBYE — JOHN MARINO

part of the Maraschino Cherry! AU

y/nmercer

liked by john.marino97, dawson1417, and 6,927 others

y/nmercer new jersey, you made dreams come true. you gave me a few last years of living with my best friend, and you brought me my prince charming of a fiancé. i can’t thank this city and this team enough. i truly don’t have the words to describe how grateful i am for everything that jersey has meant to me, but it’s time for the next adventure. utah, i’ll see you soon…. please don’t take away my margaritas 🩵

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john.marino97 as taylor swift once said “everything you lose is a step you take.” just think of this loss as the first step in our personal journey, shortcake. this is the first in a long line of things we have to do on our own, and i’m so glad to have you by my side.

y/nmercer when he listens to and understands taylor swift 😩🤭 I’M GONNA PROPOSE

john.marino97 i think i already did that? what do you think i did when i got down on one knee and gave you that ring?

y/nmercer idk? i thought you just had a really weird way of gifting a promise ring or something

dawson1417 call me every day and tell me all about the mormons and life in utah! i’m gonna miss you, but i’m so happy you found your happily ever after and have someone to take on life with ❤️

dawson1417 even if that someone is john

john.marino97 we’re gonna be brothers one day, and then you’re gonna wish you were nicer to me

dawson1417 @/john.marino97 nah

y/nmercer i love you, bubba 🤍 thank you for being my best friend and allowing me to follow you around for the past 22 years. life will be so much different without you by my side

lhughes_06 i’ll miss you, mom! i hope you have a good time in utah! i’m gonna miss you dropping off cookies after losses and doing my curls

y/nmercer my first child <3 i love you so much, hun! i’m gonna miss you so much but i’ll see you later this summer and when we play NJD!

user92 this must be so hard for her :( i can’t imagine being with your twin from the womb to 22 and then having to move across the country just like that

user16 i mean, i’d assume she knew the risks of being with a hockey player and that it meant she could have to leave

user92 @/user16 that doesn’t make it any less hard for her

jackhughes gonna miss ya short stack! don’t get shunned out there in utah!

y/nmercer you’re not that much taller than me! just for that, i will not miss you

jackhughes oh no, you’ve wounded me! what ever will i do?!

y/nmercer fall in a hole, slut

jackhughes right back at you, whore

y/nmercer @/john.marino97 JOHN! LOOK WHAT HE CALLED ME!

jackhughes tattletale. you can dish it out but you can’t take it?

y/nmercer i’m just a girl

nicohischier we’ll miss your presence here in NJ, but i can’t wait to hear all about your new life, y/n!

y/nmercer please bring me back so many swiss treats as a going away gift!

user04 new jersey is gonna miss john’s talent and your kind heart and vivacious energy! i hope utah treats you guys well!

ehaula utah stole my babysitter! good luck out there, i’ll miss you both!

y/nmercer i’ll fly back. don’t ever underestimate what i’ll do for your children, erik.

nicolelaud i’m gonna miss my wine wife so bad 🍷🤍 i’ll pour a glass in your honor, babe. it’s been a privilege to be your friend and watch your relationship blossom beautifully. i’ll still see you in a few weeks, right?!

y/nmercer thank you for welcoming me into this team dynamic with open arms! i’ll miss you!! and absolutely! no chance i’m giving up a jersey bachelorette party!

user78 THIS IS HOW I FOUND OUT JOHN IS LEAVING US?! I HATE MY LIFE

vitacz15 i’m so sorry to hear about this! but i know you’ll do great there!

y/nmercer i miss my daily dose of vitek! thank you, VV!

curtislazar95 i’ll miss *adam hamway voice* THE MARINO’S! hope you thrive on the west coast! luke’s curls will miss you too

y/nmercer i’m a marino?! 🥹

curtislazar95 well yeah, soon enough!

naterbastian take care of my boy out there in the beehive state! i know he and you are gonna do great things!

y/nmercer awww bass! don’t worry, i’ll take care of your husband! 🫶🏻

jesperbratt don’t be a stranger ❤️ you have a home here any time. we’ll miss you both lots

y/nmercer oh bratt-man, don’t make me cry again 🥺

user30 the way john hasn’t posted a goodbye but she has 😭

user6 well, john never posted a goodbye when he was traded from the penguins either, but considering this seems to be the first NHL player she’s dated, i assume this is her first time having to leave against her will from a city she’s grown to call home, so it makes sense that she posted a goodbye

tmeier96 good luck on the west coast! i’m just a text away if you ever need anything, it was a pleasure to get to know you

y/nmercer just stab me with a dull soup spoon already, it would hurt less

john.marino97 @/y/nmercer no.

[jweekgoji]

kind of headcannons about yanderes, so basic warnings about kidnapping, manipulation, unhealthy dynamics, obsession, overprotective behavior.

I kind of lied about Fern being the best yandere of AT, IMO Betty would be the best choice, girl freaking holds her man like her wifey, punches weird magical creatures she saw for the first time and she doesn't give a F about some big ass red boss baby , ALL FOR A MAN!!!

as for yandere potential, I would have ranked them like this. ↓

Betty/Golbetty is a really dedicated, ruthless and determined person when it comes to saving and protecting people she loves, even as a regular human she does really scary stuff against some powerful beings, all for beloved! I also really like Magicwoman Betty, I like insane yanderes losing their mind over how to save s/o , especially if they were really sweet and caring before all the crazy stuff happened.

Lich is kind of underrated tho, his voice actor really serves, a good villain which would give me god-like yandere villain/human beloved vibes which would be like a pet for Lich. The power difference is tasty, not to mention the size difference. Would wish to extinct all the life in the universe only for you to be all alone with him :P

Simon is not like Betty, even though he totally would do the same as her, sacrifice everything he has only for his s/o, without them he is nothing and pathetic to watch. but I see him as some kind of father figure with fucked up mind. Hates himself for it, thinks he's too old for you, you totally deserve better than someone like him, but not like he is against the idea of you being around him.

Scarab, The Star somehow like Lich, if you are human or just weaker than them, they would treat you as some sort of pet too. Maybe Scarab would taunt you more, calling you pathetic, ugly and disgusting, at the same time he would be the one who bathes you all the time. He thinks he is superior, but actually freak deep inside. But I would give bonus points for the reverse dynamic, s/o who treats Scarab as a bug he is, not caring about him begging for a job as a wishmaster. step on him, squish him like a bug, but he would run to you for more.

Ooo Finn is himbo, funny guy, actually average yandere, but Jake's death really changes his view on life. It's canon that he waits for the day he dies just to see his brother again. I think he would be a really overprotective one, always on your side whenever you go, helping you with whatever you have to do even if it's something simple. I love the idea of the good loyal hero being a little too protective towards their s/o. Most of the time Finn actually can't understand what he is doing wrong, so if you tell them about it, he would laugh it off.

FW Finn is such a cherry. I would pick Ice Finn and adult FW Finn for this. Ice Finn is scary, before he goes crazy, he is a polite and cute young man, but like other crown users, he has a really deep sense of love for the one he loves enough to put that cursed thing on his head just to save them. I see him more like a creepy guy, not like Ice King tho, Ice Finn would be kind of scarier since all those buildings made of frozen people would scare off everyone. He would be a clingy guy seeking human warmth since his body temperature is too low, but don't run away from him or you will add to his frozen collection.

Adult FW Finn are much cooler in both senses, like Ooo Finn he is overprotective, might be even more since Destiny Gang is always around and he can't let his s/o to be killed by them, he already had to lose his wife, so you would be guarded 24/7. Canonically, Finn would totally hear you once you try to leave him, so don't try it. He won't hurt you, but you would lose your privilege to walk.

Minerva just like her son is the one who wants to help people all the time. Even though they don't really want her help. It will be short here, but like I said about Finn before, she is an overprotective one, and her being everywhere literally would make your life a living nightmare since it would be hard as hell to leave her.

I already made headcannons about Fern, so will be short here too. Fern>Finn in yandere behavior, Fern is violent due to grass demon influence, he has low self-esteem, he doesn't think he deserves you since Finn would be much better at protecting you from harm. But his mind is constantly changing, so in the moment of trying to prove himself, he will kidnap or kill whoever stays on his way to get you, not to mention that if you are the person who's in good relationships with Finn, he would not hesitate to take care of Finn and take his place.

Winter King is a weirdo who has too much power. He is affectionate and could mess with the brains of everyone with his charm. Look at him, such a nice and powerful King! How could you not love him, dude?? Money, knowledge, power, love, all he has and he will give it to you. Well, if you are smart enough to see him playing, his mood will turn into a more angry one, showing some traits of the Ice King. So yeah, same old kidnapping Ice King stuff...

For PB&Candy Queen it's obvious, just like Ice Kings, she is a crazy girl, the definition of yandere, but her blender thingie is actually impressive. I don't think she will be all lovey dovey with her s/o, like she could play her songs for you, keeping you trapped, but one day you will be mixed with her together. PB from the vampire world is kind of like a much cooler version of OG PB, I like her character design and how she is portrayed, I just like strong women who would dominate you, that's all.

Can't say much about Hunter, Fionna, PB, Marceline or Phoebe for now. They're kind of chill and too cute, I can't see them doing crazy stuff (for now). For Huntress Wizard, my love, I see her cool and chill too, but this girl would give you some wild presents like when she gave Finn an animal's heart 😭 well, she is a lonely wolf type, kind of don't know what couples are supposed to do and would try to express herself in her own style which would weird you out a little but she still tries!

Peppermint Butler is kind of underrated too, he's a freaking funny guy, no one would actually believe you if you say that this candy guy would do some creepy shit. I mean look at him! Kind of like more the idea where his s/o is some really powerful entity like Death or Vampire King, he would daydream about you, giggling and kicking his feet making weird fanfics about you in his journal~~~

For Uncle Gambald and Patience, I would say they're pretty strong and violent. Don't disobey those two unless you want to die or something, are you stupid?? Patience at least would try to appear like she's actually trying to be good, she wants to know you more and teach some stuff, or tell stories about the past, just don't ignore her. Uncle Gambald is a creep, stay away from him!! He's gonna make you dumb candy citizen too!!

I actually love Prismo so much, but as for yandere he would be really tied up to his work. I mean, he can't do anything with you when you are outside his time room. He is helpless. He can't touch you or feel you like others would, he can't be around you 24/7 like them, he can't give you what most people need from their partners and it is really sad. Of course, he can make you appear in his time room whenever he wants, he can make everything you wish for, hoping that maybe you will stay with him a little longer. I don't think he would appear angry or annoyed by you, he's too sweet and caring. If you want to leave just go, but he would feel like shit without you around, his work is boring as hell, people who came for making a wish are annoying him, his time room is full of garbage. But Prismo's attention focused totally on videos of you from different universes, the only thing keeping him entertained.

[decolonize-the-everything]

I just think you're weird for suggesting ai should be an alternative to anything when y'all can't even treat Humans correctly. Like did y'all forget?

The only reason ai exists is so they don't have to pay a fucking human for the same job.

"yeah but I'm embarrassed when I rp"

You should be! It's fucking embarrassing! So what???!

"I can't make art tho"

Then don't!!!

I'm 10000000% convinced that it's privilege that makes people believe that just because you Want something then you should be able to do it or have access to it even when you have No meaningful way of accessing it yourself.

Like when people get pets when they literally aren't even home enough to take care of it so they use those dystopian ass software to train their dogs when they aren't even home. You know the ones that even spit a treat out at them?

Like???? That dog deserves a real fucking person to take care of it and to Spend the Time training it. What the fuck is the point of having a dog if your TV is the one doing bonding activities with it?

It's just for you. The dog's needs are secondary to what you wanted because those needs were inconvenient for you.

AI is no different and the arguments y'all have for it are largely fucking gross.

"I'm too anxious to interact with real people and I'd inconvenience them or something so I'll just use this ai"

Cool so now we're opening up a gate to push care for disabled and mentally ill people off on AI? Cuz you know who Else is seen as too inconvenient to be worth someone else's time?

What the fuck?

And y'all are enabling that "well it's true they would be a bad rp partner."

ITS RP NOT SURGERY WTF ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RN???

Maybe learn some fucking patience? The fuck you mean you'd rather someone talked to fucking AI???

We as a society have FUCKED UP when people are suggesting and enabling AI should deal with people nobody else wants to.

Why doesn't anyone else want to?

Can AI tell you that? Can AI fix that??

The worst part is that AI should be cool. It should be an amazing fucking step forward and instead it's racist and half of y'all act like it's a crutch for having no fucking interpersonal relationships/skills and it's NOT.

I say this as someone who is in fact physically disabled and mentally ill as fuck, okay? I'm not super young either. Like I am, and will continue, to lose my ability to do things and never in a fucking million years will AI be a stand in for a Real Person's talent or skill or help.

Society can't handle taking 30 seconds to put on a mask before they walk out the door and you DONT want me to be upset about all the "helpful" things AI can do?

We wouldn't even need AI if people could afford to go to school or had time to learn to paint or could afford the supplies or had the healthcare to go to therapy or had more people In school to Be therapists or had access to a writing class or-

Hayao Miyazaki was fucking right and more people should be saying it.

“I would never wish to incorporate this technology into my work at all. I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself.”

AI exists because capitalism's very nature is to exploit humans to our fullest extent. Now capitalism doesn't even fucking need humans to create products. We are the product they use to train our replacements.

And this is.....okay with y'all?

[twst-drabbles]

Scarabia 7

Summary: An iridescent feather was all it took for Kalim to pack up his bags and drag Jamil to the kingdom of the faeries. Jamil has trouble understanding this odd fascination he has. In fact, it’s almost scaring him a bit.

(Trust me when I say this AU has not been exiting my mind. It’s been floating around in there, but for some reason my fingers could not get it out. The fingers and brain would much rather churn out other things. Weird weird brain. Hate having to wrestle with it so. Also excuse the errors, I am kinda sleepy.)

From birth until death, Jamil will always be expected to entertain all of the wills and whimsies of Kalim. He cannot deny him any request if it is within his means, nor should he scorn him when he clearly is making mistakes. A servant, a guide, and a source of comfort all wrapped up in one. And all he has to do is keep this facade perfect until the day Kalim dies.

…what a joke, such a thing won’t happen. His services will likely be passed onto Kalim’s child, if he even makes it to that age. And if not his child, then the next sibling. Retirement is a dream meant for the privileged, and so long as those privileged few exist, Jamil will be made to serve them.

Jamil cannot ask too many questions, especially when it carries the possibility of offending the master.

He cannot ask Kalim of the origins of that iridescent feather. Cannot question why Kalim has spent the entire week simply gazing at it. Cannot even ask if he can look at it, no matter how familiar it may seem to him.

His dreams, they don’t matter, so he must always stifle them.

Clearly this wasn’t his place, and all Jamil can do is sigh in frustration when Kalim locked himself in his room. And sigh even deeper when Kalim burst out his room one day, claiming he wished to vacation in the main kingdom of faeries. Wanted to see the sight where the most beautiful feather came from.

And off they went on a personal caravan. And onto the dark stone they walk.

“And what will you do with this bird, if you end up finding it?”

How silly. Jamil already knows the answer to it already.

“Hmm? Ah, well I’m gonna keep it of course!” And the smile on Kalim’s face was as big as ever. Any wider and it would seem manic, but that’s simply the way his happiness works. He feels it in all of its intensity, even should it warp his features into something almost unplesant.

“Though, with how big of a cage you purchased, I’d predict I’ll have to take care of it sooner or later, won’t I?” As everything does. Cute novelties always lose their luster within half a year. Such was the fate of Kalim’s private zoo when he asked for it for his birthday. There were other servants to take care of it, but it never sit right with Jamil to just, let them do part of the work when he can perfectly take care of it himself.

That and his parents scolded him for daring to slack off, even though he pulled multiple muscles in his back. He could never quite lay back on his chair the same way ever since.

“Oh no, I don’t want you to touch them.”

Jamil stopped his tracks, the frankness of Kalim’s tone and the never wavering smile on his face almost had him believing he imagined it. “…Kalim?”

Kalim paused himself, blinking before his mind was pulled from his thoughts. He waved his hands, fumbling about in his nerves. “Ah, I’m sorry! That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“Whether it came out right or not doesn’t matter. If you don’t want me to touch your newest pet, then so it shall be,” Jamil shook his head, sighing out in hopes the urge to bit his lip will also pass.

“Sorry sorry…”

What Kalim doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The role of the perfect servant isn’t something that Jamil can simply be. It’s an act, a mask, and every so often Jamil has to pull it off.

Kalim was always a heavy sleeper, even more so when he’s been drinking from the various wines he had Jamil bring. Under the guise of some jovial fun, Jamil coaxed Kalim into drinking much more than usual. No thunderstorm would be able to wake him up. Kalim once almost drowned outside in a storm like that, napping without anything to protect him.

Jamil doesn’t sleep in the same room as Kalim, but here he was nonetheless. He took a glance to Kalim splayed out in his pile of pillows and blankets, sighed, then continued digging through the various bags and luggage.

Finally, Jamil’s fingers hit something. He pulled out a large, gold gilded, black box with a keyhole in it. He didn’t have to look for the key. It was tied with a silk ribbon right at the bottom of the box. Really, Kalim needs to be more careful, but Jamil certainly won’t tell him so. Perhaps later, but not now.

He opens the box and he was almost… disappointed at the sight. The feather was dull. All the rainbow light that would scatter upon the surface of the walls when daylight hit it wasn’t there. The plumes still pulsed with those delicate colors, but it didn’t hold the radiance that Jamil knows he saw when it was Kalim’s hands.

From his dreams, the shape was the same, and yet it was missing just about everything else. What was it, beyond its glow? The lack of numbers? The sturdy feeling of wings against his body? The face that was connected to it?

Face… what face? No matter how hard Jamil tried to claw through his memories, that face he wanted to see was no clearer.

Even with his disappointment, Jamil plucked the feather and held it in his hand.

Only then did its glow come back. A kaleidoscope of colors flowed forth and blinded Jamil’s unprepared eyes. He winced and held the feather to his chest, just in case it woke up Kalim.

He waited, but only heard a snort and a shifting. He’s still asleep.

Jamil blinked, tears dotting the corners of his eyes from the brightness of it all.

There it was, the beauty he’s been seeking, that Kalim had been hoarding all to himself.

How silly. How stupid to be so taken by a feather. To have this simple item that was nothing more than a gift from a pen pal to Kalim to haunt Jamil so. To haunt both of them, actually.

Even with all those reservations in mind, Jamil lifted that feather and laid a gentle kiss on the body. It felt nice, feeling the plumes brush against his lips.

…he should put this away and go to bed. Kalim must never know what he just did.

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

Character cuddle scale

How-to: rate your OC based on how they handle cuddling/being cuddled

Got tagged by @ndostairlyrium and @cao-the-dreamer! <33

Tagging in turn @herearedragons @a-drama-addict @nanowatzophina @curiouslavellan @bearsizedant @midmorninggrey @thatwinglessthing @goofsoup and anyone else who'd like to have a go! c: (doesn't have to be DA ocs of course!)

Neira Surana: 4/10 - It's Complicated

She won't protest because she is The Worst at setting boundaries and she doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but it's not hard to tell that cuddling makes her feel awkward. And yet if you catch her at the right moment she will melt right into it.. It's a weird mix of being touch starved and being a people pleaser and sensory things tm and not having her boundaries figured out well.

In any case, because of that she rarely offers or seeks hugs, and her reaction to receiving them will vary.

Kala Brosca: 2/10 - do you have touch privileges? no? go away.

If you are anyone but Rica, Zevran, or Alistair, (or baby Endrin), you aren't touching her, end of story. You can try if you'd like but if you lose your kneecaps or break an arm or two, that's on you. She isn't one for touch, and happy this way. She doesn't get a 0/10 because there is exactly one (1) person that she gets very clingy and cuddly with, and that is Alistair.

Noya Tabris: 8/10 - don't get squashed!

Big no-no until you are Approved TM, but she becomes very touchy once they warm up to someone. She's used to being physically close with people and it's something she looks for in her social circle! Cuddling to warm up, hugging for greetings, huddling close to whisper spooky stories at night... It's very ingrained into them as a form of showing love so they might have a hard time remembering consent, but Does Her Best to be mindful. Chances are if you ask for a hug she'll be glad to give it! You might want to pad your ribcage beforehand though; no half-assed hugs from this elf!

Var'renan Mahariel: 7/10 - (un)certified therapy hugger

When they're not in the mood for it they will say as much, but often they are perfectly content with cuddles or hugs, both from/for people they trust and people who they think might need it. It's not her primary love language by any means but it is something that they generally appreciate, and well, it is a simple way to provide comfort or support without the need for words or grand gestures.

Liam Hawke: 5/10 - average once again lol

He is very needy in terms of touch, yes, but actually not much of a cuddler except with a few select people. With those people he will seek it out relatively often, with everyone else, very rarley. That said, he doesn't mind a hug from a friend now and then, but won't usually be the one initiating it.

Lilian Hawke: 9/10 - champion of kirkwall AND of cuddles

Likes her intimidating reputation in public but is actually a runner up for hugging champion, don't tell anyone. She won't just let anyone that close, mind, but once she does turns out being good with boundaries and enjoying physical closeness and having practice from growing up with younger siblings makes for a top tier combo.

June Trevelyan: 3/10 - touchy, but not cuddly

Thing with June is that either it's No Touchy, or All The Touchy. Once she likes you she loses all sense of personal space and she Will drape over your lap like a cat, or squeeze close to get a look at what you're holding, without second though. Consciously cuddling or hugging though? Not really her thing, most of the time. Once she starts thinking about affection she doesn't know what to do with it

Ari Adaar: 4/10 - he's a little confused, but he's got the spirit

Chronic overthinker also overthinks The Rules Of Hugging, big surprise. Plus, he is large and strong, and he knows it, so any time someone is Up Close he gets worried about accidentally hurting them, so that's an additional Awkward Factor. That said, when someone he cares for needs a hug or cuddle he is more than ready to offer one, even if he feels inadequate. He is very honoured that they trust him with it and, well, can't say it doesn't feel nice..

Adriel - 9/10 - more than incidental hugger

Heck yeah to both! She often shows affection in very physical ways, so she's both a great giver and receiver od hugs. Considering she has a parent who is very particular about touch she's learned early to mind boundaries, but she is very liberal and enthusiastic about cuddles once she has the 'go ahead' to do so

[fromperdition4]

Kinn the Star

There is so much to say about this scene in the woods - where Kinn and Porsche are finally on equal footing, and they both take turns encouraging the other to open up.

One line from Kinn here sticks with me the most -

He explains how he'd wanted to be a singer as a kid, entered a competition but quit. Not because he didn't do well, but because he thinks his father bribed the judges to let him win.

And my mind's just whirring with all the implications here:

First, there's what this shows of Kinn's character - he has all the makings of a nepo baby, and definitely uses his money and privileges to get things that he (or rather his father) wants (see: expensive diamond necklace that no one's ever going to wear). But, he also has pride and integrity - he can recognize when other people are more deserving than he is, and he doesn't want undue recognition. Not when it's something that would be personally meaningful to him otherwise.

Then I'm also struck by Korn's side of this (because I can't stop thinking about Korn's relationship with his sons) - was bribing the judges an act of fatherly care, one of those intrusive things that controlling parents do because they think it would be better for their kid (even when it's something their kid would hate)? Or did he see an opportunity to improve the family's reputation, and couldn't stand to see a Theerapanyakul lose? How did Korn take Kinn quitting, if that was the case?

Of course there's always the possibility that Korn didn't bribe the judges, and Kinn won on his own merit...

never mind

That Kinn's long-forgotten dream was to be a singer of course reminds us of Kim, who's now following that same dream and seems to have carved out some freedom from the family in doing so. Did Kim's interest in singing come from Kinn, from bonding with his big brother/wanting to be like him? Did Korn meddle with Kim's career too, when he was young? Does he still try to?

And finally, it occurred to me on this rewatch that there's a bit of ambiguity here in just want kind of competition Kinn entered.

I'd always assumed it was a local competition - maybe one meant for kids, where they would compete first in their region/school and then the winners would move on to a larger, national competition. That would make sense for how Kinn could both win but also quit - he just didn't move on to the next competition.

But the phrasing here could also imply that Kinn went on an actual televised singing show! His family would certainly have the connections to get him on (and hey, they may or may not have a modelling agency now that would totally have hired Jom to star in a new series)...

Can you imagine baby Kinn singing his little heart out under the bright studio lights? How much he would have been adored and hated in equal measures by the viewers at home?

(There may be some who still talk about that weird kid on Thai Idol, who crooned out a bunch of oldies and stole the heart of the judges, but then dramatically bowed out in the very last episode...)

[let-spretend]

hey guys .. so , it's been a couple months since the last update , and i'm so sorry !!! i've been procrastinating and putting this off for so long and have been losing interest but i'll try to keep writing this series .

cw violence, crude comments

mold for thought pt. 2

home is where i want to be !

three years ago - 7/11/20XX

“We’re going to Dulvey.” Ethan hurriedly gathers up his things and beckons you to do the same. Gathering your phone, earbuds and wallet, you decide on a small backpack to store your things. You don’t question his sudden order, blindly doing as he gestured. 

“Will it be long?” You ask.

He stops and thinks. “YesーWe’re picking up Mia.” You shove in your journal, clipped with a pencil and a bag of chips. Mia?

You stop, “Wait, what?” 

He swings his keys and opens the front door. “I’m sure she’ll explain everything.” Ethan says. He sounds like he’s lying to himself but you don’t ask anything more. Mia’s been gone for so long, you were accepting the fact she wasn’t coming back. You’re so glad she’s okay, you’ve missed her so much. 

The car Ethan drove was a Dodge Challenger from the 1970's. Having the privilege of riding the car was always something you pride yourself on. You rolled the window down and breathed in the fresh air. The roads were unfamiliar and the scenery was becoming open fields. 

Mia and Ethan took you in when you were little and you don’t remember much. You were now 15, and they were talking about having a child before Mia went off to do her job. At the time you were excited. Wanting to be that cool and loving older sibling to the Winter’s child. You remember Mia reassuring you that she would still take care of you, no matter what. You wanted to hug her then. You would’ve if you'd known she would’ve been gone after that. What were you going to say to her after all this time? 

-

A phone goes off, it rings 3 times. Ethan picks it up and says a shy ‘hello’ into it. “You really shouldn’t have come here.” You could hear a woman’s voice faintly, as you stood close to Ethan. You stare at your left hand and arm. You arm had knife slashes all over it, and in the middle of your hand was a gaping wound. Ethan had frantically put medical aid onto it, but it still throbbed. 

“Who’s this? And what the fuck is going on?”

“My name’s Zoe. There should be a way out though the attic. Go thereーnow.” He hangs up and nods in your direction. Ethan had no choice but to trust this mysterious person. He holds out his right hand for you to take and you hold it tight. You were never one to be touchy, but comfort was very much needed in the moment. Ethan was leading you through the halls, trying to find the stairs. 

You had found Mia, asleep in a bed. To get there it was a treacherous task, the house riddled with locks and puzzles. At first she was “normal”, trying to get you out of the house to the best of her knowledge. But after a roadblock, she changed. Started saying weird things and sat down, stopped moving. You had followed Ethan to find a way out, not feeling safe being alone with Mia. During that time she was alone, someone had taken her. 

Soon after she was taken, banging on a door or wall could be heard. It went on for three minutes, the same rhythmic banging every single time. As Ethan almost gets to the heart of the sound, it stops. He puts his arm out to stop you, now silent, you could hear hoarse hisses coming from the shadows. Something was crawling. The more it nears, you could make it out its humanoid shape. It suddenly jumps and grabs onto Ethan’s shirt. It was Mia. Now clearly being controlled by something. Her face was different, gray and monster-like. 

Ethan goes flying through the many walls, leaving you alone with Mia. She charges toward you with a knife, first, throwing you onto the ground. You try to get back up but she attacks your face, forcing you to block with your hand. As she pulls back, it slices your arm. You try to push her off of you, but her strength was unhuman-like, remaining on top of you. 

Mia aims for your face again, but this time you were slow with your block. It goes clean through your palm, and the blade is inches away from your face. As she tries to push in further, you kick her as hard as you could with both of your feet. You get up as quickly as you could, but she gets up faster. “Ms. Winters.. Wait, wait!” She keeps aiming for your face and you block, again, as she pulls away the knife slices your arm. The second attempt, you are able to catch Mia’s arm and use your right arm to push her face away. She falls back slightly, but is determined. As she comes back, you use two hands to grab onto her armed hand. You stay like this for a couple seconds, before she gets the final stab on your hand and lets go of the knife. 

You stare down at your battered hands. The pain was growing worse and worse, as you realize how bad they looked. “I can hear her.” Mia strains, “I can feel her clawing her way back inside me. Get out!” She rams herself into the wall. “Leave me alone!” Again, with more force. Her eyes flicker over to you. You were still breathing heavily, trying to forget the agonizing pain coming from your left hand. “I’ve been bad. I deserve this.” She stares directly into your eyes and again rams herself into the wall. She flops to the fall, unconscious. You hurriedly go check on Ethan, who had been unconscious and bleeding. You shake him awake and he jolts up, expecting Mia. “We have to go.” You mutter. He feels a wet substance on his right arm, where you were shaking him. 

“Y/N, your hand!” His face was fearful, pulling out a strange green bottle from out of his jacket pocket. He pours it onto your hand and you bite down onto your lip. You could feel the inside of your hand, screaming. He casts the bottle aside and rubs your shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He says. The moment didn’t last long before you could hear small footsteps approaching. He frantically looks around, finding an ax within the rubble. He stands and doesn’t hesitate to swing at Mia’s body. She held the same knife she was attacking you with before, swinging for Ethan’s face. All you could do was sit and watch, telling yourself that this was in fact happening. They go at each other, back and forth, before Ethan lands a finishing blow to her neck. It’s like the moment was in slow-motion, her knees slowly go weak and her face returns to what she normally looked like. Her pale white skin and green eyes. She reaches out for Ethan before she falls, and Ethan tries to catch her. 

Her body meets the floor, and the sound her body makes makes you realize she was dead. Ethan stares at his hands for a moment, realizing what he’d done to his wife. You try to process everything, but were interrupted by some ringing.. 

-

Mia comes out of the shadows and stops you from going forward. She takes Ethan’s free hand and slowly backs, holding tightly. His breath hitches. “Ethan! Y/N! It’s OK. It’s OK, it’s me.” The blood from the previous fight was still on her. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” Mia shakes her head side to side, trying to console herself. As she slowly backs up, she abruptly stops and throws Ethan’s hand away. She raises her hands and grabs Ethan’s shoulders, pinning him to the wall. He lets go of your hand from the impact and winces. “But you shouldn’t have done that!” Her face contorts into a monster-like form again and her voice becomes raspy. 

Mia grabs you this time, pushing you onto the floor. “It fucking hurt!” She takes your shoulder and positions you onto the wall. Too scared to move, you let her move you. Her hand crawls onto your left arm and she pins it higher, on the wall. A sharp pain jolts through the palm of your hand and you look over to see a screwdriver pinning you to the wall. Your left hand was somehow healing back up, still very sensitive. But she pierced through the newly formed muscles and nerves. A pained yell escapes your lips. Somehow the pain was worse than the first time.

You desperately pull at the screwdriver, tuning out everything around you. Ethan’s hand was trying to calm you down, but you were absorbed in the pain. You hear some distant revving of a chainsaw, but what brought you back was Ethan’s screams. He was protecting you and blocking the chainsaw with his left hand. His blood splattered onto your face and you realized his hand was gone. Mia pushes him to the side like some object, reaching for you. 

She grabs onto your shoulder again and throws you across the hallway, the screwdriver forcefully coming out of the wall. You look at Mia, terrified. She looked completely different. All that remained was her body, but even that, it was gray, making her look sickly. As she mutters incohesive sentences, Mia falls back but you don’t understand why.

You pull out the screwdriver from your hand and keep it as a weapon. You take the tablecloth from the small side cabinet, wrapping it around Ethan’s open wound. He hisses from the foreign contact, but holds it tight after. Blood soaks through it in seconds. You take his cut-off hand and throw it into your bag. Grabbing his right hand, you lead him as best as you could, to the attic. He was wobbling around, his breaths shallow. 

A big red button labeled with ‘STAIRS’ was on a beam. You press it and watch as a pair of stairs slowly descend. You had trouble getting Ethan to the top of the stairs and into the attic. You hold onto his waist while he uses his right hand to prop himself up. You leave him at the top in case you have to get out quickly. Also, giving him the screwdriver to protect himself. 

Immediately, there was a white door to the right. It was dimly lit from a small lamp on a table. A box of ammunition was next to it and you took it, hesitantly. Near it, there was a M19 handgun. Observing it, there seemed to be nothing wrong with it. “OK, fine.” You sigh and take the gun. Back out, you look back to see Ethan closing his eyes, his chest rising slowly. 

You keep going further and enter a room full of mannequins. Some ammunition was lying around here and there and you would pocket anything you could find. 

A ladder, prepped up against the wall, had a small door near the top of the wall. You decide to check where it would lead before calling for Ethan. As you got closer, clattering and shoving was coming from behind the door. That same revving was getting closer and closer. You jump down from the ladder and begin to run where Ethan was. “Mr. Winters! Hide, now!” You yell as loud as you could, interrupted by Mia slashing down the wall next to you. She breaks down the wall with her body, trying to grab you. You instinctively kick her across the room and she falls with a grunt. Using the new handgun you found, you aim for her head. You don’t want to. The image of Mia lying cold on the floor comes back to you. The recoil makes your body stumble back. You shut your eyes as the report makes your ears ring.

“Everyone is relying on me. Everyone!” Mia yells. You run back into the room with the ladder, trying to avoid Mia from discovering Ethan. She comes back through the way you came in and you attempt to shoot again. Expecting the recoil, you flinch and miss the shot. She charges for you, and you nearly escape by falling backward. Crawling away, you hurriedly get up and run across the room. 

This time, you try not to focus on the kickback. Breathing deeply, you shoot two rounds. One for her head and another landed on her shoulder. She stumbles back, but bobs her head back straight away. Through gritted teeth, “I have to do this.” Mia cried. The chainsaw revs and she attempts to slash your head. 

Running for the room with the lamp, you quickly try to figure out how to reload the gun. The slide was open, showing the chamber had no bullets. From movies you’ve seen, you try to find a button to release the magazine. A small button on the handle grip catches your eye, and you press it. The magazine drops to the floor and you quickly grab a loaded one from your pocket. You could hear Mia slashing through another wall, so you hurriedly shove the magazine into the magazine well. Pulling back the slide, it snaps forward. Assuming that it cambered a round, you fired at her four times. She staggered forward, trying to maintain balance. The bullets that pierced her torso began to slowly bleed. She falls to her knees and faces you with a pleading look. With a raspy voice she muttered, “I love you,” and fell over to her left. 

She laid still. Blood gushed out of every gun wound and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You knew she could probably come back. But it still was horrifying, knowing you had the power to kill something, someone.

He could also be dead, from shock. You try not to imagine Ethan dying and leaving you here, or to keep going without him.

You also look down at your left hand. A gaping hole where Mia stabbed you. Something terrible has happened here. What the hell is going on? What did they do to Mia those three years?

You run over to Ethan, who is now wide awake, clutching onto the screwdriver. You help him up and get him down the stairs. He was springing with energy, able to support himself. Ethan desperately tries to find the way out of the place and you hold the gun steady to protect him. The soft pattering of footsteps goes unheard with the obnoxious footsteps Ethan was making. “Welcome to the family, child.” You feel a hand aggressively grab onto your shoulder, and a man punches you straight in the face, causing you to fall to the floor. Pain racks through your face and you drop the gun to the floor. You hear some yelling and tussling while your eyes are closed. Pushing through the pain, you try to grab on to the man’s leg. He tries to shake you off like a bug, but you persist and try to twist it. He kicks you off and bashes your face in with his leg in response. 

-

In some glimpses, you feel your body being dragged across the mud. A foreign view. Some hair was dangling in front of your face, and you saw another person being dragged along with you. Tiredness washes over you, and you give up on fighting and rest your eyes once more.

“C’mon.. don’t you die on us, now. You both have work to do.” A woman’s voice, a southern kind, wraps your hand in gauze. You recognize it as the lady’s voice on the phone. After she wraps you up, you hear rummaging and loud stapling next to you. Your head is extremely heavy. Something’s off. You can’t fight the urge to sleep.

But a horrid smell wakes you up. You try to get up but feel restraints pull you down. Turning to your left, you see an unconscious Ethan, who was also restrained. His hand was stapled back on, with a new wristwatch on. “What the hell?” You squeak out. Three people were in front of you. You guess a father, mother and son. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another figure. Still, and shriveled. She looked like she was rotting in the chair. The younger man throws something at your face, turning your attention away from the old woman. The smell was horrible, and you try not to recoil in disgust.

They all had that gray-toned skin that Mia had, and all looked miserable. The father, who was in the middle, was chugging down a beer and seemed the most calm out of the four. He was balding and had glasses on, like an average middle aged man. The mother was twitching and scratching her neck a few times. She was smiling wide, and her hair looked like it was thinning. The son had his hood up, not really staying still for long. Staring and creepily smiling in your direction.

There was so much meat, platted neatly on the table. The few candles create a nice orange hue over the meal. The meat looked unrecognizable, like something you’ve never eaten before. Not just that, but also parts that you’ve never seen normally. You deduce it to be human flesh. Tons of remains laid before you. Some rotted, boiled or fresh. You try not to freak out.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. It’s time for supper.” The mother of the family finally speaks up. Her hands were shaking violently as she picked apart the ‘food’. She nibbles on the piece she ripped off.

“Who are all you people? What did you do to the Winters?” You ask. Ethan was still unconscious from the blow. Margueritte slams her hand onto the table to shut you up. She shoves the rest of the handful of remains into her mouth, while facing you.

“Eat it. It’s good.” She says in a sing-song voice, ignoring your question. 

“Dumb son of a bitch wouldn’t know good if it hit him!” The son throws a plate full of human flesh toward Ethan’s head. He stirs a bit, still not fully awake. 

“Lucas!” The mother scolds. She’s angry because of him disrespecting the food. He tries to assert himself and stands up. Suddenly, the older man grabs his son’s arm and stabs it in with a steak knife. He begins to cut through it, blood splattering everywhere. The arm was cut off clean, and he holds it in the air as the blood keeps oozing out.

“Goddamn, old man, not again!” It didn’t really sound like he was in pain, but rather utter annoyance. Jack throws the hand onto the floor with zero remorse.

“Get out the way, Marguerite.” He commands. She scoots in quickly, her body touching the table. “That child’s got to eat! They got to have their supper.” He grabs some meat with his bare hands and begins to approach your face. “Come here, child. Let’s do this, come on.” He grabs onto your shoulder, forcing you still. The smell was so bad, you could feel your stomach flipping. There was white intestine and some green brain inching closer to your mouth. You clamp your teeth tight as it nears, seeing the brain glisten from the candlelight. The veins were now a dark-ish green, it didn’t even look human anymore. You whimper from the thought of eating human remains, keeping your mouth shut as tight as you could. He tries to force the meat past your lips and he successfully pushes in. The force makes you open up your clamped teeth, allowing the human remains to properly enter your mouth. The meat lies on your tongue and you can’t help but retch. The feeling was so foreign and disgusting. It spat out onto the table, clanking onto the dirty plate in front of you. You cough as much as you can, trying to get rid of the feeling and smell.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shitーthey’re not eating it, Jack! They’re not eating it!” Marguerite yells and stands to point at you. You try to calm yourself down, but the yelling makes it harder to concentrate. Your mouth was slightly open, trying to not let your tongue touch the roof of the mouth. The rubbery feeling of the intestine stays on your tongue.

“Shut the hell up, Margueritte!”

“I made that for them!” She sobs. 

“Get the hell out of here!” He kicks her chair toward her and she screams in response.

“You’re a fucking bastard!” She points at you again and leaves, stomping. Lucas didn’t seem fazed, still holding up his handless arm in the air. Ethan was now fully awake from all the yelling, taking in his surroundings. Marguerite yells more incoherent insults before shutting the door. The ground shakes a bit from the force. Jack reaches over you to grab the food you spat out. 

“This was supposed to be a very special feast.” He shows the rotted brain to somehow prove his point. It was now all mushed up. Placing it softly back down onto the table, he slowly grabs a new knife. “Come here, child.” He coos. Jack slowly raises the knife, aiming for your mouth. His hand was on your shoulder again, but this time you fought. Your eyes grow wide and instinctively move your body to the left. He stabs your shoulder and you yell out in pain. You try to look down, avoiding Ethan’s face. You didn’t want to see what he was thinking. 

He twists whilst stabbing, and the pain you felt was nauseating. Ethan is yelling at the man to stop. After being satisfied with your squirms, he finally pulls out the knife. You breathe out in short breaths, trying to think of anything but the pain. Lucas was watching with glee, anticipating his father’s next move. “Come on now.” Jack says. He tries to cut into you again, but is interrupted by Ethan. He doesn’t hesitate to shove the knife into Ethan’s face and he cries out in great pain. It only lasts a few seconds, to your relief. Jack would’ve kept going, but the doorbell rings. 

“God damn it. I bet it’s that cop again.” Lucas stands to go inspect the sound.

“Goddamn pigs!” Jack says. He looks up, then lets out a big sigh. He sternly points toward you. “I’m coming back for you.” His eyes darted toward Ethan, then back to you. Your breaths were shallow and fast. You look around and see the grandma still sitting there, still as an object. You watch him close the door and immediately start to thrash around. Ethan flinches, surprised by your outburst. 

Falling to the floor, the chair you were in breaks on impact. The rope around your hands burns from the pulling but you’re determined. Once free, you grab that steak knife from earlier and cut Ethan’s restraints. The blood makes your hands clammy.

He crouches down and embraces you. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re okay, we’re okay and we’ll get out of here... Somehow." Ethan says. You’re convinced he’s trying to soothe himself, with those words. 

He pours First Aid Med onto your open wound and it stings real bad. It took a lot not to show it on your face. “I’m so sorry for bringing you here.” Your mouth felt dirty. You couldn’t respond at that moment. Not saying anything, you just shake your head side to side. Trying to show that Ethan shouldn’t feel guilty. 

You keep the knife in your hand, in case you need to use it. The blood from Lucas stains your hand. You both quietly roam around the halls, carefully checking and listening for any sound. The more you ventured into the house, the more paranoid you got. “Some sort of locked trapdoor. Maybe we can go through here?” Ethan whispers. He touches the door, looking through the cracks to see a way in. Before you could leave, Jack barges into the room, armed with a shovel.

“Thought you’d just slip out before dinner was done?” Ethan shields you with his arm, slowly backing away. When the timing was right, you both evaded Jack. But he grips onto Ethan’s shoulder, turning him back around. Jack attempts to scratch Ethan, but he blocks with his bare arms. He motions for you to go and you follow his orders. You could hear maniacal laughter followed by Ethan’s frantic footsteps. 

While Ethan was preoccupied with Jack, you try to search for the key. It all seemed too quiet, until an arm holding a shovel suddenly burst out through the wall. Jack’s body breaks through, the wall crumbling behind him. “I was so worried about you.” He shouts. You immediately turn around, trying to avoid him. “You’re wasting your time.” He physically grabs your face, forcefully turning you towards him. His face was scaringly close, feeling his breath on your skin. “You came to the wrong house, child.” He hits you with the shovel and you fall to the floor. He raises his shovel into the air, stabbing it straight down into your right leg. It only pierces halfway through. A blood curdling yell leaves your lips. He brings it back up and down again, exactly where it was before. Putting his whole body weight on top of the shovel, it goes through clean. The bottom half of your leg flings back and blood spews out of the gashing wound. Your yelling is muffled through your teeth but still leaks through. “Poor thing.” He sings out. 

Jack grabs onto your bleeding leg and feels your blood gushing out. It wasn’t a heinous act or anything, but you felt disgusting. He uses the same hand to push your body fully on the ground. He walks leisurely a couple feet away from you and crouches down. You push yourself back up and flip yourself onto your stomach. You army crawl over to your cut off leg and grab it. Your arms were tired and the leg in your hand didn’t help with the crawling. 

He sets down a green bottle onto the floor, “You can use this to fix your leg. You can do it.” Jack laughs a little, observing your move. He was making you so unbelievably angry that he wasn’t frightening to you anymore. You breathe out deeply with every attempt at getting closer. You snatch it before he could try anything. Propping yourself up, you stick the leg back on and pour the liquid. This bottle looked different than the regular ones. “You better now?” 

You clench your mouth as you hold it in place. Your leg slowly starts to reattach to your body. “What the fuck!” You move it around, hoping it would fall off like a normal human being. Maybe this First Aid Med has healing agents in it? lt’s able to reattach because of the liquid, right? You collect yourself and try walking on the leg. It hurt, but you could walk and had full control over your foot in mere seconds. 

“You… better… run… Here’s Daddy!” Why was he attacking you and helping you next, then attacking again? You dash out, limping slightly with every push on your right leg.

Looping through the kitchen and back near where Jack tore the wall down, the key was resting on a little table. It was just the hallway away. Ethan got there before you, grabbing the key. He was about to yell out your name but you waved your arms to make him stop. You both quietly creep over to the trapdoor, avoiding any noise. 

The sound of Ethan opening it was heard. “Found ya!” Jack exclaims. You let Ethan in first, quickly hopping in after, locking it behind you. “Have fun under there. I’m gonna come back for you later.” You flop onto the floor in exhaustion. 

“The screaming, are you okay? Where did you go?” He looks down to see blood all over your leg and a clear line through it. “Holy hellーWhat happened?” His face was littered with worry and guilt. He touches your leg to see if it was okay. It was a different kind of touch than Jack’s did, Ethan only had your wellness in mind.

“What’s happening to me, Mr. Winters?.” You stare at the cut. He seems distraught by your question. He only sighs before standing up, not able to answer your question. What did Ethan think of you?

“Just, rest up a bit.” Ethan goes off first and searches every nook and cranny for some tools. Looking at the cut consumes you with thought. Were you like those people now? You sigh and touch your face for comfort. Your hands were covered in dry blood and it was honestly frightening. 

You decide you can’t ‘dilly-dally’ any longer and help. It was huge, underground. Never seen a crawlspace this big. You follow a yellow wire that leads back up. You grab onto the ledge of the hole and pull yourself up. It was an old laundry room. Looked like laundry hadn't been done in a while. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you smell the socks hanging from a rack. They really stink! You thought. 

You find some more bottles of First Aid Med and grab them for future uses. Useful things were lying everywhere and you grabbed what could fit in your backpack. It was all soaked in blood now and you doubt the chips you packed weren’t crushed. Your pistol from before was in there. Maybe Zoe put it in there? You pocket the gun in your back pants-pocket. You try to use an old rag off the washing machine to wipe off the blood, but it was already stained. The slightly dirty rag was now drenched in blood. You toss it back into the washing machine and close the lid. The bag no longer wet, you were satisfied. Familiar ringing goes off, and you notice a black touch-tone phone is going off and you pick it up.

“You did good, Y/N.” She says. You know Zoe’s probably the only thing that can help you, but you can’t help but be suspicious. How does she know your name? From Mia?

“What the fuck are theseー” You try question her but she cuts you off rather harshly. Does she not know, or is she hiding things from you?

“Shut up and listen if you want to stay alive.” You make a face. Being commanded by someone you didn’t know made you annoyed. “You gotta get out of that house. There might be a way out through the main hall. And that thing on his hand is a codex.”

“That doesn’tー” answer my question. She hangs up before you could ask anything more. You click your tongue in annoyance, “A hell-of-a-girl..” You whisper. You look for Ethan, and he was in the halls. “She says to go through the main hall.” Yelling ever so slightly, so Ethan could hear. You open up the steel door, which leads back to where you were before. You sigh at the sight.

-

“Fuck!” You yell out. Looking at the father and deputy’s bodies, a chill runs through your body. Jack’s head is now bits, all over the floor and the deputy’s decapitated head lays cruelly on the floor. The warmth of the flames start to creep up on you, realizing that the fire is spreading. Ethan had crashed a car into a pole, which led to an explosive fire. He nearly had himself killed.

That deputy could’ve been your ticket out of here and he was dead. You try not to remember, but the image of the shovel going through the man’s head was stuck in yours. It was that same shovel Jack used to cut off your leg. You try to shake it off and meet Ethan at the top of the ladder. He shoves a shelf to the side and reveals a drop down. You are worried about your leg but figure you’re just going to have to suck it up.

He lets you down first, dropping with a grunt. Not waiting up for Ethan, you open the door, where it leads back to the first floor area again. You feel like you’re going around in circles. Ringing, another phone call. You search for the sound and come across another black phone. “Did my daddy give you a hard time?” 

“That’s your father?” You say, in disbelief. How were you going to break the news that you, sort of, killed him?

“He used to be.”

“I’m sorry… but he’s, uh, he’s dead now.” You confess. But, ��used to be?’ As in, she doesn’t view him as a Father anymore or she knows you killed him? She scoffs on the other end.

“You just might be able to pull this off.”

“What? Pull what off?” You were scared this was all her big deliberate plan, but it was unlikely.

“There’s something I need you to do, but I can’t explain it right now. You may need some sort of keys to do it, but find a way out of the house. I’ll be in touch.” The long beep brings you back to reality. You softly clank the phone back and rub your face to cool off. You grab the newspaper that was next to it and see what it was about. ‘Over 20 missing in 2 years’ as the headline. Could be 22 by tomorrow. You sigh and crumple the first page.

-

The nearest front door was of no use. With windows boarded and other doors being locked as well, it seemed like there was no obvious way out.

You and Ethan tread the Baker’s household quietly. No sign of Mia or those mysterious phone calls. The house was never ending somehow. Although you were looking for a way out, you were also searching for materials. Anything that could keep you two alive. Every stray bullet or bottle of first aid fluid, you would pick up. 

You open a bathroom door to a weirdly placed bathtub. It was right in the middle of the room, with ample space around it. It holds murky black water and you decide to drain it. Not that you wanted to, but there was an urge to. Your hand slips into the water, feeling achy from your disgust. You search for the plug and pull on the ball and chain. It gulps down the water and you swish your hand around in the water. You got over the feeling of disgust. Oddly enough, the water felt soothing; you were drawn to it. 

As the water level slowly goes down, it reveals mold sticking all over the bottom. It only clung, not moving. You felt this sort of connection to the mold. You try to touch the mold, but hear quiet footsteps growing near. Ethan tries to usher you to leave, opening the door. But is met with Jack, his head still not fully recovered. His brain was pumping, mold covering some parts of it. Ethan puts his arms up to prepare for a hit. Instead, Jack raises Ethan from the neck and stares at him, Ethan struggling helplessly. “Heck of a thing, ain’t it? Sure as shit beats the hell out of dying.” Jack says, noticing both your stares at his head. You act fast, shooting him in the brain area. Blood splatters all over the walls and Ethan. He throws Ethan in frustration and goes after you. “She has given us a gift, and this gift is with me always.” Gift? She? Who is ‘She’? You assume it’s not Margueritte or Zoe. You think back at the dining table, to your dismay. An older figure, not moving. Her? Or maybe it’s Mia?

Ethan picks himself up and you both run for it. Jumping down the stairs and pretty far from Jack. “As you can see, the family is only a part of her gift.” You could hear him boldly talk through the walls. “Whichーin a wordーmeans, you’re fucked.” You lean on the wall in exhaustion and put all your body weight onto it. The wall acts as a door and you yelp from the sudden movement. 

A hidden door. “What the hell?” You prop yourself onto your elbows, looking at the weird door. “Who builds this shit?” You say, under your breath. You scratch your head in annoyance and amusement. Ethan comes jogging over to your yelp.

“What happeー” He stares at the open wall and sighs. He helps you up and check out the pathway. Ethan was holding a shotgun, you wonder how he got it. Before you could ask, he begins the inch closer to the open wall. It was dark and narrow, but your only shot at getting out. “Worth a shot.” Ethan says. He goes in first, making sounds from being squished so tightly. “Who builds this shit?” He sighs. You snicker a bit from the coincidence. You close the wall behind, making the hidden hallway pitch black. 

It led to a hidden bedroom. It was scattered with a bunch of notes and photographs of people. You picked one up and read its contents. 

June 14 

Vacationing Husband and Wife 

The Husband was a success. He’s the 12th. Unfortunately, the Wife was no good, so we’ll just get rid of her. 

July 7

3 college girls

They’re all rottenーLucas is a damn idiot.

August 13

Homeless man

Turned in 3 days. He’s the 13th.

What the hell? Was the Son involved with experimenting on people with this mold? You look up at the pictures on the wall with people. Were they all victims?

The room was full of hunted items. A deer head on the wall, several antlers littered the room and even a fully taxidermied deer was on display. You let Ethan thoroughly check the room first, leaving you to admire the deer. Its beady eyes stare back into yours. 

Every corner is left searched and he nods after being content. He leads the way toward a door with some black goo on it. It was spilling out from the cracks of the door. You can’t help but feel it screamed dangerous. It opens up to a small smoke-filled room, with a singular foldable chair and table as furniture. No light. There’s more mold lining the walls, if anything, the whole room was covered in it.

It shuffles in the darkness. You try to peer at it closer. There’s faint gurgling and it starts to get louder. Part of the wall with mold, a figure starts to emerge. “What the?” Ethan says. It swipes for the both of you, but staggers out of the wall, causing it to miss. You were barely able to comprehend what happened, as Ethan led you out quickly. There was light again and finally, unfamiliar halls and no mold.

Without thinking, you head down a flight of stairs that went into the basement. The stairs were covered in mold. You’ve seen nothing like that figure since being trapped in this house. The further you went down, the more mold started to appear on the walls. Opening the basement door, it reveals an infestation far worse than anything you’ve seen so far. The roots were thick and you could barely see the cement walls. Your eyes strain from the obnoxious fluorescent lighting. 

Turning the corner, that thing from before comes out of nowhere. Your breath hitches from the sudden encounter. It had long claws and was made up of strings of mold. You start to shoot at its head. You didn’t really know if bullets would work on it, but it would screech from the hits. It had a humanoid shape and walked with a slouch. The resemblance it had with a human wasn’t helping. It flops onto the floor. 

You keep trekking in further, zipping through the corners of the hall. Stopping at a green, rusted, foldable fence, Ethan pulls it back with all his might. It didn’t screech as much as you thought it would. A couple steps in, you stop. That smell again. Decomposing flesh was on racks and fresh meat on a cutting board. Your head was pounding. That feeling in your mouth was back again. You cover your mouth and try not to think.

Thumping from above you is what made you go out of your trance. You looked around and it wasn’t Ethan making the noises. A loud bang comes from behind you and your head whips towards the sound. Another mold monster. It slumps onto its head from the fall. It uses its arms to get itself up and begins to drag itself over to you. Ethan shoots with perfect accuracy, but it shields itself with its arm. Ethan goes in circles around the table with the meat, repeatedly shooting until it stops moving. 

One after another, they would keep coming. You both just run and run until you find a door and close the monsters out. It was a small room with metal shelves preventing you from getting anywhere. You peer through the gaps of the shelves and see a door, and try to tell Ethan you’d found something. “Mr. Wー” Out of nowhere, a hand grabs an item where you were looking through. Seemingly, trying to give you a spook. Your breath hitches and you try to keep quiet. Ethan puts his hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

“No-no-no-no-no-no-no. I will find them and I will make them suffer.” The father leaves through the door and it slams shut. How many times will this guy keep coming back? You sigh out in relief. Ethan lets go of you and opens the door.

Trying to escape the mold monsters, you didn’t have time to take a look around your new surroundings. Looking around closely, there was a door within the walls of the corridor. The creaking brings Ethan to come. It opens to a place with iron bars and the atmosphere feels off. There was a small pair of stairs, which led to a slightly elevated floor. 

Right of the top, there was a door that was somewhat ajar. You peek through and recognize the familiar shelf. Instead it was where the father was standing. You look through to see where you were mere seconds ago. If it were you, you would’ve been able to see if there was somebody behind there. Perhaps, he was too preoccupied with his thoughts. 

You enter with caution and immediately see a body bag hanging from the ceiling. You turn back around to leave, but see a sight. You didn’t notice the deputy hanging while on the other side.

“Poor deputy…” Ethan’s face contorts into sadness. He holds the pocket knife the man gave him. You try not to stare too long at his body. The blood from him runs along the walls, his body looked worse than it did at the garage. There were other hooks in the room, you try not to imagine other victims hanging on them.

Going deeper into the main area, there was a body hanging from the ceiling, in a bag. Just like the one in the room with the deputy. The place was elevated higher and you peered down to see if there were any mold beings. It looked like some sort of arena. “Y/N!” Ethan calls out. A hand grabs your face and turns you around. It had to be Jack, he’s done it before. You were expecting his face to be stupidly close, but it wasn’t. He kicks you down onto the first floor. 

You fall directly onto your back; it throbs tremendously and you gurgle out in pain. Ethan struggles above, trying to stop Jack from going after you. You struggle to get back up but push through, propping yourself onto your elbows. 

He jumps down with a comically large ax, towering over you. He swings up and you prepare for the worst, putting your arms up to block your face. But Ethan jumps down onto Jack’s back, stabbing him with the pocket knife. He seemed unfazed, but the more Ethan slashed at him, the more he started to curl into himself. He mumbles in a very low voice, incoherently. Suddenly, Jack uses his left hand to grab Ethan by the arm and throws him off. He hits his head on a pole and doesn’t get back up. 

You were scared. The pain in your back was unforgiving, but you couldn’t afford to die here. You forced yourself up, despite your body yelling at you not to. You pour medical aid onto your hand and throw the empty bottle at Jack face. His face has shards of glass stuck, and all he does is adjust his glasses. The place where his brain was poking out was now healed, and bald. Lazily grabbing for the gun in your back pocket, you try to make a menacing stance. You try aiming for that bald spot.

“That gunーit’s not going to work the way you think it will.” He fell to the floor and you could see his brain pulsating again. Again, he didn’t seem in pain. 

You back up and slam into something that was hanging. Another dead body. You seriously couldn’t believe that this was happening. Shutting your eyes tightly, you try to console yourself. You had to protect Ethan. 

Jack pulls away at a wired cage, another body, with a chainsaw sticking out of it. Jack grabs a different weapon but you quickly go behind him to grab the chainsaw. His was a large pincer, with a motor. “Groovy.”

“That is not groovy.” You manage to remark between breaths. He charges forward with full speed, noticing the chainsaw in your hand. 

“That’a child, that’s the ticket!” He laughs. You try to block the blow with the chainsaw but your hand gets caught in the strike. It was a sharp and quick jolt of pain. Your hand was still connected to your arm but there was blood all over it. You form a claw shape with your hand to check if it is still mobile. It hurt.

You circle around the hanging body and attack Jack from behind. He curls from the slashes but turns around to hit you. Holding the chainsaw up, you counter his attack and push him to the floor. His head erupts and exposed parts of his head reappear. You take this chance and ram the chainsaw into it. Blood and mysterious light brown liquid gush out of his head. It splatters all over the bottom half of your body, staining your clothes even further. “You are gonna get it now!” He stands up whilst you keep pushing the chainsaw into this head. He bonks you with the pincers and you feel blood seep out of your head. It trickles down to your left eye, and let it drip off your eyelash. You keep running around, maintaining distance, while occasionally getting slashes in. When you pay attention to his head once more, it was back to normal. 

Using the hanging body, you push it into him. It rams into him, making him stumble a few steps back. With him stunned, you jam in the chainsaw into his face, tugging downward. His head starts to split into two, and his bones make it harder to go down. His arms trying to reach out for the chainsaw to make you stop. His yells make you hyper aware of what you were doing. You were killing this man. 

He tries to get away and pushes you, his head pulsating again. Sparring no time, you stab into his brain once more. Pulling the chainsaw out and back in again, in another spot. The chainsaw stops abruptly, getting stuck in Jack’s head. “What’s the matter? Outta juice?” He says, unfazed. Jack tries to stand up, but you yank on the pull cord, adding pressure into the chainsaw. He yells and you continue to pull the cord rhythmically, until it gets going. It revs up and you continue down his face. He pushes you off and he explodes. His blood covers your face and you close your eyes from the sudden contact. Your eyes open to a pair of legs attempting to walk forwards. You nudge it with your chainsaw and it flops to the ground. 

You sit there stunned for a bit, not moving. You blink quickly a few times to soak in the new situation. Helping yourself up, you look down onto the pair of legs. “Do me a favor and justーjust stay dead.” You say, quietly. Hoping he’ll hear your weak pleading. 

Sitting on the ground, you pour First Aid Med onto your hand. You look at your bloodied hand, mixed with the aid. It drips onto the floor, and softly makes dripping sounds. With the wet hand, you touch your face. It was cold and comfortably soothing. Closing your eyes, you breathe out deeply. What did you do? Mia, and now him? You stare at the still legs. You didn’t feel real. Looking around at the damage, you snap out of your trance. Ethan. You scramble over to his unconscious body and rock him back and forth. He stirs a bit before jolting awake and grabs his head. “I don’t think he’ll bother us for a while now.” You say. He peers over to the torso-less legs. He seems to relax a bit from the sight. Ethan slumps and opens his arms. His tired gesture but caring eyes make you emotional. You dive into them and let the hug take over. It only lasts a few seconds before you break it. It just felt wrong, being able to hug like that after doing something ‘unthinkable.’ Helping Ethan up, you grab the chainsaw again and try to open the door. He wipes off the blood from your face.

“No, let me, Y/N.” Ethan takes the chainsaw from you and begins to cut through the metal. He cuts through the metal but the chainsaw’s blade cleanly comes off with it. “Whoops…” He laughs, a bit embarrassed. You only stare at him.

Finding your way back upstairs to the main area, you find an entrance that seemed to be a normal front door. Excited, you speed up. A possible way out. Before turning the knob, you feel a hand on your hip. “What is it, Mr. Winters?” You turn to see the grandma from the dining table. “Shit!” You exclaim. Her hair covered her eyes, making you unable to make out her facial expression. You swear she wasn’t there before. The grandma slumps back into her chair and stops moving. You couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. She was as still as a statue. And, she wasn’t attacking, so you didn’t care too much. Still, it was eerie. You decide to just leave her there, not knowing if she was a threat or not. 

The door did in fact open to the outdoors. You took in a deep breath to breathe in the fresh air. The house was all musky from, presumably, the mold. 

There was a white trailer right in front of you and you headed straight in. It was bright and lively. Albeit, it was a bit dirty, but way more kept up than the house was. In a closet, a bra was hanging from a hanger. A clue, that this place was probably the person calling you with the phone. Speaking of which, there was another touch-tone phone. Waiting for it to go off, you explore the trailer. On the right, there was a fridge, with a table next to it that looked like a booth. Soft, yellow lighting made the place homey. It was different from the blinding lights from the basement. On the left was a single bed. You drop your bag onto the floor and flop onto it, not bothering about permission. You close your eyes, but don’t fall asleep. Trying to relax, you take deep breaths. With everything that’s happened, this place felt like a safe haven. You would stay here if you could.

Familiar ringing brings your attention to the phone. You slowly get up from Zoe’s bed and lazily walk over to the phone. “You made it. You’re the first I’ve ever seen make it this far.” Her statement does not make you happy whatsoever. 

“So, what is it you need me to do? Is it gonna help us get outta here?”

“Yes, now listen carefully, Y/N.” Zoe pauses briefly. “My family and I… our bodies are contaminated. I can’t leave the property unless I get it out. Same goes for Mia.”

“Is there a way to get it out?” 

“We need the serum. It should clear whatever this stuff is out of the body. As long as you’re not too far gone.” If that was true, why didn’t she just make the serum herself? But, you try not to be a smartass over the phone.

“Alright, so where is it?”

“If I knew where one was I’d already be long gone. But I have a feeling my mother has hidden some inside the old house somewhere.” Slightly irritated from her answer, you sigh. 

“So if we get this thing, I can help Mrs. Winters and we can get outta here?” You start to reach for your bag with your foot. One of the straps gets caught on your leg and you bring it over to the foot of the counter the phone was on. Ethan slowly opens the door behind you, and sits himself down at the table.

“Right, and so can I. The old house is near the waterーyou can’t miss it.”

“Alright…” You say, weary. You pick up the backpack and sling it over your right shoulder. You see Ethan moving in the corner of your eye.

“I just hope you can handle my mother.”

“Your mother?” She was the one who made all that ‘food’. If she was giving you a warning for her, then she must be worse than the father. You touch the left side of your face to stop worrying.

“Be careful. They’ll be lookin’ for ya.” You put the phone back down and see Ethan sitting at the table again, reading some notes. You wonder how long until Zoe will become like the others. Or maybe the mold doesn’t have a concrete way of infecting people. Maybe people react differently with the mold?

He puts the papers down once you get close. “She said the ingredients might be in the old house.” You say. He gets up and immediately holds the shotgun to his chest. He leads the way to the place. It was hidden within the trees, behind a gated entrance. It was unlocked, and opened to a narrow boardwalk. It had a wooden roof and walls, making you feel caged in. Baby dolls were strung up on the walls, in all types of directions. The wood was all old and molded, they looked as though they could break at any time. 

The front double doors were huge and opened up to a room full of bugs. They were not normal sized and appeared to be some sort of bee. In general, you didn’t necessarily hate bugs, but these were the size of your hand. Ethan switched to the pocket knife and sliced the bugs attacking you. Nests hung from the ceilings of all rooms. They looked like strings of mold sewn together, similar to the mold beings. Buzzing and swarming were all you could hear. You try to walk as slow as you could, so as to not disturb the bugs.

‘She’s upstairs. Don’t go up.’ was written on a wall near the stairs. You couldn’t tell if it was blood or paint. Looking around the room, there weren’t any stairs nearby. Maybe Zoe or a person before you wrote this?

You progress deeper into the first floor of the house. The bugs would occasionally be able to sneak up on you and bite. It felt like energy was being drained out of you. Your eyes would feel heavy and breathing would be difficult. Ethan would slash at the man-eating insects and they would explode instantly. Yellow liquid would spew out and a nasty smell would follow. Ethan grabs onto your arm while slashing as best as he could. 

The bugs became attracted to the smell of their brethren’s blood. As they swarm and Ethan could not keep up, he pulls your arm and runs. Hurrying out to the veranda, you could breathe in fresh air. You stare out and realize you were on the boardwalk again. The man-eating insects buzz angrily at the door, and they attempt to sting at it as well. This house had the same musty smell as the other one did. Ethan also sighs out in relief. 

The water was eerily still. Sometimes a puddle fly will move and there would be a small ripple. You felt at peace with these bugs. They were just normal, not being controlled. There were no man-eating bugs out here, so far. You feel the bite marks on your neck.

While you admire the insects, Ethan scavenges for items. There were multiple trash bins scattered about. His eye catches on a particular one, which had some sort of contraption sticking out of it. He takes it and inspects it further, wiping off the dust off it. Ethan keeps it, making you think he has some sort of a plan for it. 

Staying on the boardwalk, you both head toward the small shack to the left, that was lit with candles. An empty backpack sat on the molded table, presumably from a former victim.

He puts the contraption inside the backpack and hangs the shotgun onto it. You peer out onto the water again and see other places outside that connect to the house via boardwalks. Your best bet at finding supplies while avoiding the bugs and Marguerite. Nothing was connected from where you were, so you would need to head back inside. Ethan slowly steps out of the shack and gives you a small thumbs up.

Feeling a bit prepared, you both decide to head back inside. You hadn't even noticed a projector sitting there, facing a wall. Which was odd, since nothing seemed to be operating with electricity in the old house. Before you could properly inspect it, bugs came out of nowhere and began to swarm you. Ethan swung the knife around while sprinting forward. You try to stick as close as you could to him and avoid being stung. 

Heading into the kitchen, he finds a door with a glass window. He takes his chances and goes through the door and is met with the outside again. Some bugs were there, but not nearly as much as the inside. He jogs into the closest shack and shuts the door quickly. Melted candles were the only light source. It seemed that was the only way things were lit in the old house. 

A burner nozzle laid on the table. You assume it could be assembled with the component from earlier. He assembles it like you thought he would, and inspects it thoroughly. “I’m not sure if I built it completely right, so stay a bit back, OK?” You nod and do as you’re told. He goes outside and aims at one of the bug nests near the crates on the boardwalk. It goes up in flames, but bugs start to swarm out of it, trying to find its attacker. Ethan proceeds to hose them down with more fire, and they all fall, burnt to a crisp. 

Returning inside and back to the kitchen, there were some items you missed but thought could be useful. Some chem fluid and more First Aid Med. 

Ethan decides to open a molded door connected to the kitchen. As if waiting, the bugs swarm out attacking you and Ethan. You try and swat them away with the chem fluid bag, and Ethan goes further in, destroying the nest. There was another and Ethan attempted to torch it also, but there were too many bugs. “Down here!” You say. A small crawl space was made in the fireplace. You go in and see it leads to a basement. You push the door open and shut it as soon as Ethan goes in.

The room was again dimly lit with a few candles, your eyes immediately landing on a table. You try to reach for whatever was on it until, “Y/N?” It was Mia’s voice. You look behind a fenced off hallway and see Mia standing there, in front of an open door. She comes up to it and grabs on. Mia looked happy to see you. She notices Ethan behind you too. “Ethan.” She breathes out. He stands in front of you, slightly hiding you behind himself.

“No more bullshit, Mia. I want some answers.” Her face became concerned. 

“I know. I know. You’re right. And I always wanted to tell youー” She shakes her head and looks down, “but, I justーI can only remember a little and the rest is just gone!” Lucas comes out of nowhere and grabs Mia, and holds her tight. Ethan gasps and grabs onto the fence. 

“Ethan, right? You mind if I borrow her for a little bit?” He backs up and drags Mia with him. “Well don’t just stand thereーdo something!” He reaches for the doorknob and slowly closes the door, with Mia struggling under his grip.

“Ethan, Y/N! Help!” She manages to scream out before Lucas closes the door.

“Dammitー” Ethan grits his teeth and goes back where the bugs were. He gets ready to fire, and unleashes it onto the nests and bugs, releasing pent up anger. The nest on the ceiling falls to the floor after the fire goes out. 

You try to exit through the molded door again, but feel a weight behind it. “Stay the fuck out!” Her face was oddly calm while her voice was raspy and yelling. Marguerite closes the door and summons spiders to appear all over the door. They jump at you, crawling over your arms and body. They didn’t bite but the feeling of a million legs had you thrashing around. You aggressively swat them off of your body and release a deep breath out. 

The creaking from her lantern could be heard if dead silent. You try to tiptoe around the house to avoid her. Occasionally hiding if too close. “I told you to get out! It’s mine.” She yells out, at nobody. Ethan’s body was sticking out behind the crates and was visible. You mentally smack your face. She again summons insects to go attack you after she notices. You try to run back to the previous room, but the spiders were still on the molded door. ”Alright, you pieces of shitーI’ve had enough of you.” Her yelling was muffled through the walls. She was much more crass with her words than the father was. 

Your eyes meet with Marguerite again, and she laughs maniacally while releasing more bugs. As you start to run further away, her laughs turn into weird yells. Incoherent, and sounded painful. 

Running back into the room with the projector, your feet get caught under the rug. You fall straight for the wall where the projector was shining on. Bracing for the impact, you bring your hands up trying to protect your face. Instead, you lean forward and a loud rumbling follows. You look up to see it’s one of those hidden doors again. Ethan helps you up and pushes you in lightly. “Hurry!” He pushes the door shut, and you try your best to adjust your eyes to the darkness. You could hear faint crawling of something, but don’t think about it.

Slowly, you proceed through the narrow pathway and see bugs crawling all over. That was what was crawling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You panic, under muttered breaths. There were centipedes, millipedes and silverfish on the walls, the ones you absolutely want to be surrounded by. “JesusーFuck.” You stop as some fall from the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, you take big strides out. You hope Ethan doesn’t hear your swearing. 

The very end was a dead end, but the wall your body was facing had a gap through it. You fall forward, stepping out with the small thump. The room had stairs and a gap in the floor, preventing you from getting over. These stairs must be the one the wall was warning you about. Since Marguerite was probably someplace else, you decide it's safe. You go up the stairs with caution and see a dead crow plastered on the door. It was hung up with pins like how butterflies would be. A note was also pinned to the side on the doorframe. 

Zoe, 

You tried to sneak up to the second floor again, didn’t you?! Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!?! Even after what happened to Grandmother, you just keep talking about some strange medicine. And what are you planning to do with my altar? You better keep those sticky hands off of it! Nobody touches my sacred altar!

You think your father and I are idiots?! You spoiled pathetic child…

I wish you’d NeVEr been born. UnforGIVably pathetic yet always lookingDOWN on uS aNd trying to Leave our HOME! After EVERYthing WE’VE done for YOU… Pathetic PATHETICpathetic pathetic…

If you EVER even touch my altar I’ll slice off your chest and serve it up as potroast…

You make a face. You couldn’t imagine the people you love talking to you like that. You felt really bad for Zoe. You tried to open the door, but it was locked. 

Returning to the main area, the hole in the ground had a rope contraption in front of it. All it needed was some sort of handle to retract the rope. You look around for anything that could be, but instead you find a hole next to the stairs within the wall, sort of lit up. You venture in despite Ethan’s quiet protests. The crawlspace reminded you of the one in the other house. Staying in a crouched position, you move little by little. 

Pushing past a crate, you find a crank. You’re a bit surprised by how easy it was to find. You turn back around, and hear familiar buzzing. A bug sitting there, innocently. You sneak up behind it as quietly as you could and stomp on it. Its yellow-blood gets all over your shoe. You felt cold.

Ethan was waiting for you and helped you up. “I got it.” You say, showing him with great accomplishment, the crank and place it onto the device. You push and pull and feel immense weight each time you row. A plank starts to slowly rise, creating a bridge where the hole previously was. Before you cross over, you rethink other places you haven’t explored. The boardwalk. Outside, there was one shack you couldn’t get to. You carefully take out the crank, afraid the bridge would collapse without it. To your luck, it stayed.

The room was connected to the wall with the red lettering, so you made a run for the veranda. “You got no business being out here!” Marguerite says, hearing your footsteps. Bursting through the door, your eyes search the area for an unsearched shack. The place where Ethan previously burned down a nest, had one. It had the same crank contraption next to it. You quickly attach it and begin to heave. Just like in the house, out of the water, a bridge started to slowly lift up. It was much heavier this time, with the weight of the water and the bridge being longer. You puff out your chest, clenching your teeth and push.

You hurriedly walk over to the shack. There was a small sink, with an empty bottle of First Aid Med sitting in there.  The door opens with a swing. This shack was considerably smaller, and you realize, it was supposed to be a bathroom. Another sink was to your left, and in front of you was a toilet filled with trash. On top of that trash had burner fuel, which you thought Ethan could use.

A shiny box was on top of a rollable shelf, and you hesitantly opened it. Inside it, it had a makeshift key with a crow’s skull tied onto it. The key to that door. You shove it into your pocket and slowly close the chest. Again, you swing the door open, to find Ethan keeping watch of the perimeter. You throw him the fuel and he happily accepts your find. 

This time, you tread carefully through the house. There was nowhere you could confidently make a break for. 

The house was eerily quiet, but she wasn’t anywhere in your vision or hearing. Ethan had your back covered, confident you both were safe. The crow door was growing near and you mentally prepared yourself for what could be behind that door. You would be lying if you said you weren’t thinking up the worst to come.

Slowly going up the small stairs, you reach for the doorknob; with Ethan right behind. Marguerite was patiently waiting for you to come back, hidden within the shadows. “I told you to stay out of here.” She grabs onto your shoulders and shoves you hard. Your body hits Ethan on the head and falls to the foot of the stairs. You go flying toward the middle of the room and land on your hip. You groan out in discomfort, squeezing your eyes shut tight. Your body starts to ache and you wonder, how much more damage could it take? 

The floor starts to crack and wood starts to break apart. You wanted to move, but your body was tired. You were tired. The ground rumbles and the floor from under you breaks away. Out of instinct, you grab onto the ledge. Your fingers were barely hanging on, with just the tips of your fingers holding your weight. 

The section of wood you were grabbing onto was not sturdy and snapped off. You try to grab onto something but it is no use. You prepare for the worst, but land almost instantly. Landing on your back and you immediately suck in. You tried to breathe out, but you couldn’t. Panicking from your inability to breathe, you mentally tell yourself to calm down. Not being able to touch your face was upsetting, but you nonetheless keep trying to breathe calmly. You manage to get out tiny breaths. Your body felt weak. Rolling over to your side, you try to shake off the feeling of being afraid. Pushing yourself onto your knees, you feel the ground. You’re okay. 

Marguerite kicks Ethan out of the way and she peers down at you, holding her lantern out to see you better. Still fazed, your chest was rising up and down while you looked back up at her. 

Slowly pulling out your gun, you shoot for her face. She doesn’t budge from the three shots. “Alright, you little cocksucker, let’s get down to business.” You try not to pause from her comment. You aim your anger at her, shooting anywhere you could land. 

“I’m fifteen!” You mutter out. Ethan grabs onto her, and makes her fall backwards. You couldn’t see her, but she summons her bugs to attack you while she is distracted. 

You don’t waste your bullets. Instead, you pull out whatever you had, which was a first aid bottle, and swing. Most of the bugs explode from impact. 

Your swatting gets sluggish from every bite. That feeling of immense tiredness washes over you. Through your lidded eyes, you try to attack anything that is moving. You squish them with the first aid bottle, crushing them into the walls. 

Ethan throws down his flamethrower while fighting the mother. The sound of it landing surprises you, snapping you out of your haze. She releases even more bugs after you, “Eat well, my pretties!” She exclaims. You aim and release. Torching them all down, Marguerite grunts in frustration. This time she sends the hurd after Ethan, leaving you and Marguerite alone. “You think you can waltz in here and have your way with my family?” You furrow your brows and aim the flamethrower at her face, not thinking. As the fire gains contact with her, she starts to crackle. Her clothes begin to burn away at a fast rate. She screams in great pain and thrashes in the fire. You look up again, mortified at what you’ve done. The father, and now her? You hate what this place is doing to you, changing your mind and body. You don’t feel the same anymore. 

Your breath wavering, as she suddenly stops. She leans back and drops her lantern in the pit. You move to the side and let it hit the floor. The sound of it hitting the ground makes your skin itch. She reaches for her lamp but realizes it's too far gone. Her fingers curl in and her face has a somber expression on it. Her body looked like it was covered in soot. All your doing.

She loses her footing and falls in, landing with a gasp. As she reaches for her lamp, her hand goes limp. Ethan runs back in and helps you up, leaving her behind. “It’s mine… It’s mine… My light…” Marguerite croaks out. She forces herself up, inching toward the lantern. You look back down to see black water rising from underneath her. It looked like that moldy water from the bathtub. You could feel its yearning, once more. It consumes the lantern and her, the light slowly disappearing. She gurgles as the black water envelopes her. 

The water was still after that. You felt cold again. Ethan grabs onto your shoulder to console you. You reach to feel for the key in your pocket. You needed to get over yourself. Nothing was to get done if you didn’t, right?

You push the key into the weird lock and it clacks open. The room had those baby dolls hanging from the ceiling and flowers next to a chest. 

Distant beeping could be heard somewhere and you look around to find nothing. Ethan slowly goes up to the chest and raises the watch on his left arm. “What the?” He says, quietly. The chest opens automatically, revealing a decomposing baby in a fetal position. 

Regarding the serum:

      the following items

 be able    synthesize      serum 

(infected decompo  d at least two y    s)

D-series cranial nerve

D-peripheral nerve

“I think that’s it.” As soon as he makes his remark, the phone goes off. This time Ethan goes and picks up the phone, and shyly puts it to his ear. 

“Well? Did you find a serum?” Zoe asks. Her tone could’ve been interpreted as a bit, matter-of-fact, condescending. Ethan’s eyebrows furrow and his body stiffens. He looks like he’s trying to stop himself from exploding.

“I just got done dealing with your mom and her fucking bugs. I wish you coulda warned me.” At home, Ethan was always careful with his words. Soft and caring, he would slip up with curse words sometimes but he would always apologize. You’re surprised at his outburst.

“Sorry about that.” She laughs and dismisses it quickly, not really caring for Ethan’s change of mood. “What about the serum?”

“Haven’t found any, but I did find out what we need to make one. A D-series head and an arm. This can’t be right...”

“A head?” She pauses. “ I think I have that around here somewhere.”

“You do??” Ethan’s words leave his mouth surprised. 

“I don’t know about the arm, though. Have you searched the whole house?” Zoe asks. It seemed so matter of fact to her that you were kind of creeped out. I mean with everything, were you really surprised though?

“No, not yet. I still need to check the second floor here.”

“Alright, check it out. Meet me at the trailer if you find it.” She cuts off, like usual. Ethan glances at the phone a bit, taken aback by the abruptness. He puts it down lightly and uses his head to nudge to the left. There were four small steps up and a small room right at the top of them. Ethan goes ahead, and ignores the room to check if the coast was clear. You sigh as soon as Ethan leaves your side. Slowly going up the steps, you feel the handrail as you drag yourself up. It was chipped and corroded, rough at the touch. The door frame was in the same condition as the handrail. It’s chipped white paint reminded you of home, back with Ethan and Mia. Why was she involved with all this?

Inside, you inspect a doll that was on the desk. It seemed like dolls were a recurring theme in this house. It was homemade, and had no features on it. You put it back down, feeling bad for the mother. It’s not their fault they were infected.

The room was very cramped, with a piano, chair and rolled up rug taking up all the space. You see a journal on the piano and decide to snoop through it. You were expecting sheet music but instead found several journal entries. 

October 11

My ears have been ringing all day and I haven’t been able to sleep since the child showed up. It’s like Zoe says: There’s something strange about the child, and the woman she brought with her. 

October 15

I’m seeing things, hearing things, can’t stop feeling nauseous. I went to see the doctor in town and he gave me an X-ray.

What’s happening to me?

October 23 

The child gave me a present.

October ー

I put the present in the secret room right at the back of the second floor, where nobody will find it.

That arm is a sign of the child’s trust. That arm will lead us to happiness. 

And anyone who corrupts that happiness… I won’t allow them to live.

You try to understand the entries but something doesn’t add up. There is no child here. Or at least to your knowledge. It would explain the baby dolls hanging around though. Maybe the mother grew a sort of obsession over this child? And the woman. That had to be Mia. What is Mia’s relationship with this mold? You place the journal back down and think back to Mia’s video calls. She was babysitting someone. Was this ‘kid’ the person she was babysitting?

Ethan pops his head back in the room and shakes his head. “Locked. Some weird contraption to get it opened.” You nod and follow him out. He goes back down the steps and out though the crow door. You both peer down the hole and notice there was no black water anymore, just the lantern. You could hear some quiet growling and see a long, sickly arm come out of the hole in the wall. It hastily grabs the lantern and disappears. That was the only way out. Ethan hesitates but starts to go down the ladder. You do the same, and try not to think about what appeared. 

You both carefully peek into the hole, seeing a shadow moving in the tunnel. It was walking like an animal, on its hands and legs and moved like a spider. “What the fuck?” Ethan breathes out. He turns over to you to see what you were thinking. He sees your worried expression. “That’s special.” He blurts out. His line delivery sounded like a middle-aged white dad. You sigh through your nose. You’re glad he’s still trying to make you laugh despite it all.

The light disappears and Ethan begins to follow in after it. The tunnel was small and narrow, caving you in. It had you hunched over, taking baby strides. 

You could hear the wind and water getting closer, and light began to shine in. At the end of the tunnel, there was a ladder that led to the outside. You were back at the old house, and behind you, there was Zoe’s camper behind a fence. The lock was, luckily, on your side, so you unhook it and were relieved to see no Marguerite. You take a mental note of where this door was. The trailer was your only safe haven here. 

Ethan was trying to find a way back into the old house, climbing up a set of stairs full of vines wrapped around it. He quickly comes back down, shaking his head. Must’ve been locked.

There was another way up exactly how the other stairs looked. The green door was unlocked and opened to a place infested with more vines. Shrubbery was growing through the cracks of the floorboards. Clearly, unkept, moreso than where you were roaming before within the old house. You could hear painful groans echoing through the walls, as you looked for a way further into the house. 

Another hole was the only way to progress. You both jump down to unfamiliar territory. It was the second floor of the old house. The atmosphere was completely different, off, even. There were no candles to light the way, just pure darkness. Naturally, you open your eyes wider to somehow see better. Your eyes gradually got used to the dark, but it was still hard to make out a lot of things. 

As you make your way further in, you could see some light. There was a lonesome lamp on a desk and it drew you near. Like a moth. The light allowed you to see the state the place was in. The second floor was also overrun with vines, but had this grimey look to them. Everything was in a hue of gray, devoid of life.

You stick close to Ethan as he ventures through the rooms. He clutches onto his flamethrower, getting ready for what’s to come. He has trouble finding a way through, circling around and going back to where you first started. You sigh and point to some stairs you saw while wandering around. He awkwardly chuckles and starts to go up the stairs. As he sets foot onto the old stairs, it creaks horribly. You shudder, something is wrong. “Mr. Winters!” You cry out. 

Out of the boarded up wall, comes out Marguerite. Ethan immediately shot fire, but she still was able to claw at him. He falls to the foot of the stairs and she manages to grab onto Ethan’s feet.

“I got you. Don’t you worry none.” Her voice is now deeper. It was all hoarse and scratchy. Ethan points the flamethrower at her again, and she grits through the pain. She lets him go and desperately tries to put out the flames. Marguerite retreats while still patting herself down, giving you a chance to help up Ethan and leave. Her whole body leaves the house, the boarded up wall now revealing the night outside. The open wall reveals the night sky, stars twinkling. What cruel timing. 

Your head is running. You’re overwhelmed by the “new” threat you had to face. You had just defeated her, you thought it was over. 

You take the flamethrower from Ethan and run up the stairs. He is surprised by your assertiveness and stands there stunned. “I torch, you shoot.” You calmly but quickly let out. You could hear distant scratching and see Ethan’s caught up with you. 

“Here I come!” A deep and hoarse voice yells out. She appears from behind you, and Ethan lands a few shots on her with his shotgun. Her body was two times the height it was before. Her arms were freakishly long, being able to swing at you from a great distance. You release fire on her and she jumps onto the ceiling to avoid it. She crawls around like a pesky spider that tries to avoid being squished. You hose her down again, and she falls through a crack in the floor. 

Marguerite yells in frustration, spazzing out on the floor. It was a sight to see. She was clawing at nothing, staying in that one spot. Your eyes leave her for a second, looking back, she is gone. A shiver runs down your spine. Her groans could be heard, but it echoed throughout the walls. You jump down through the hole Marguerite fell in and scan the room as fast as you can. Her voice was closer, but she was nowhere to be found. 

That buzzing was getting louder, and you turned to see two big bugs that only Marguerite could control. She was near. Ethan goes for the swing and it bites him as he slashes. Something pulls at your hair and your body responds and swings back. She towers over you and you’re sure to aim for her stomach. It looked like a bee’s nest, extruding out of her and had holes all over. As she drowns in the fire, her hand attempts to grab at your face. You jerk back and aim the fire at her. As you try to bring the fire back down to her stomach again, a bug catches you off guard and you are forced to stop. 

Marguerite gets on all fours and begins to back away from Ethan, who was shooting her with the shotgun. She slowly climbs up the wall, without looking. She hung from the ceiling peering down, “You got nowhere to go, now, child.” She jumps down and lands on top of you. You immediately point the flamethrower at her face, and she screams in agony. Ethan releases a couple rounds on her, making her retreat. She jumps back on top to the second floor, to your amazement. Ethan stares at the hole in the ceiling, breathing heavily. You hand him some First Aid Med from your backpack, and he applies it to the bite marks he got from earlier. 

You try to find the ladder up quickly and quietly. 

There it was, painted in a bit of yellow. You clutch the flamethrower in your right hand and leave your left to grab onto the ladder. You peek your head in and see Marguerite peering down the hole she jumped from. You unleash the lot of fire onto her, and she whips her body around as soon as it hits her body. Using your right leg, you kick her down the hole. Your foot landed onto where the nest was, making her scream as she went down. You hear gunshots from below you, followed by more screams. She jumps back up through the same hole, surprising you greatly. Marguerite reaches for you and successfully grabs onto your shoulders. She brings you in for a bite, her teeth sunk into your left shoulder. Her teeth threaten to break through skin, while you try to pry her off you. You kick near her lower region, until you feel a squish. She falls back again, clutching onto her stomach. She tries to reach for you again, but is met with bullets. Ethan had made his way up here, and gave you enough time to hose her down. She falls to her knees and begins to spaz. She gurgles out nonsense and slowly leans back. Her body begins to petrify, from her legs to her face. 

From her face, she crumbles. “Just fucking stay deadーOK?” Ethan yells out, he tries to soothe himself with his outburst. All that remained was her lantern, which Ethan took. You stare at the pile she became. The shards were red on the inner side, and a light gray on the outside. You felt numb, and hated that you did. 

The ground started to shake and you looked over to see the wall start to crumble down as well. It seemed like similar material to what Marguerite became, but had no red in it. A green door similar to the one that led here, was behind the crumbled wall. You crouch down to feel the crumbled wall. As soon as your hand lands on it, it disappears. As if, nothing happened. You sigh and look at Marguerite once more. She too, was as if nothing had happened. What would be of her now? You take one shard and start to head toward the green door. Ethan has left it open, waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. As you clench the shard and ascend down, you look at the starry sky again. 

You were going to make it out of this place.

[wooahaes]

a match made in autumn

pairing: non-idol!dk x gn!reader

genre: fluff <3

word count: 0.9k~

warnings: food mentions. menace joshua. sappy sweet seokmin.

daisy's notes: matching w him... buries my face in my hands.....

By complete happenstance, Seokmin mirrored you.

The two of you had agreed to meet up at the coffee shop you worked at, purely because it was an easy enough place for the two of you to get to. Plus you liked being able to use your employee discount to get Seokmin whatever drink he wanted and a little snack for him, too. Neither of you had said anything about what you were going to wear on this date, only to dress a little warmly but not too warmly. Therefore, you busted out one of your favorite flannels because you could layer it over a t-shirt and not have to worry about being ‘too warm’ at any point. Although you probably could have gone inside and ordered your drink and Seokmin’s, you had opted to wait outside for him. You liked something about standing in line with him, talking about what you might get…

Except Seokmin walked up wearing the exact same flannel as you. You didn’t even know he owned one like this. He’d gone all red in the face, though, meaning that this was entirely coincidence.

“I guess this means we have good taste?” He’d said to you, laughing a little over it. 

You just giggled, taking his hand. “At least I won’t lose you anywhere,” you hummed.

His voice was softer as he intertwined his fingers with your own, “You couldn’t if you tried.”

The sappy parts of a budding relationship: you didn’t mind them so much when you were with Seokmin. He’d always say such soft, sweet things with this dopey look on his face like you were his entire world. One of his friends had told you that Seokmin looked at everyone he cared about like that… Which only made your heart flutter a little bit more. He cared about you. That was enough to make your day. 

And the thing (person) that could ruin it just happened to be standing behind the counter, taking orders today. Joshua. Fucking. Hong. He’d been casually chatting up other people, giving recommendations, everything he was supposed to do until he saw you. Immediately, you recognized the look on his face. It wasn’t too late for you to grab Seokmin and book it out. Sure, it might earn you some weird looks, but it was better than whatever Joshua was planning—

“Aww, you’re matching!” He chuckled. “Have you two been together long?” 

What if you died right now? You buried your face into Seokmin’s side. “Can we run away…?” 

“And they’re shy!” Joshua rested his hands on the counter. “You two seem really cute together. Can I get you something? We have a discount for couples—”

Seokmin chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “Stop embarrassing them,” he said, as if your coworker would actually listen. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s mortifying,” you mumbled. “He’s never gonna let us live this down.”

“Nope.” Joshua smiled. He had the privilege of being one of few coworkers you didn’t want to fight on a daily basis. Maybe he was trying to change that now, though. “Did you two plan this, or what?”

Seokmin rested his hand at your hip. “It was an accident.. But I like it,” he said. “It makes us a pair.”

With a huff, you raised your face, trying your best to glare threateningly at Joshua. It only earned another chuckle from him as he was already punching in your usual order, but you could at least pretend he might be doing it out of fear. Yet you melted a little when you saw Seokmin looking at you with that sappy look again. “... Okay, fine, you’re right,” you mumbled. 

It earned another little chuckle from Seokmin, who squeezed your hip. “I think we should match more often, actually.”

Joshua rolled his eyes a little, still smiling. “Okay, you two are gonna make me sick—Seokmin, the usual?”

He wasn’t getting the usual, considering he rattled off one of the seasonal orders… and a cookie for the two of you to share. One of the maple ones you’d told him about before, which only made you want to bury your face in his flannel again because he remembered. You’d maybe gone off for a few minutes about how you and Joshua ended up in a slightly heated debate about which seasonal cookie was better (he thought the caramel apple ones were better, because he was wrong and dumb and annoying—) when the day was particularly slow. That Taehyung guy (another coworker you were fine with, actually) tried to say the iced oatmeal cookies were pretty okay.

Taehyung was promptly shooed away for his wrong opinion by both you and Joshua.

Seokmin, however, seemed happy to take your side in it all. You’d seen the way Joshua rolled his eyes a little when he mentioned the cookie (of course you’d tell Seokmin about that conversation), but you’d notice the way he threw an extra one into the bag because he knew you liked them. Oops, I guess they stuck together, would be what Joshua would say to you when you asked him about it.

“I mean it, by the way,” Seokmin later said once the two of you had your drinks and were outside again. “I like matching with you.” 

You wrapped your arm around his, tucking closer to his side. “Good,” you said with more confidence now that it was just the two of you alone. “I like people knowing we’re together, too.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

[tizzyizzy]

The Fundamental Izzy-Misunderstander Ed-Apologist Issue

Raving all night Ranting all day Gonna do some izcourse on Christmas day

Hey, I can't control when inspiration strikes.

This is the basic belief of IMEAs:

Ed is a neurodivergent, queer, POC suffering from mental illness.

Izzy is a privileged white homophobic straight man. (No, you don't get to pretend the straight part never happened. I was there. I saw the discourse.)

Izzy had leveraged his privilege and utilized emotional manipulation and real physical threats to coerce Ed into continuing a position he is desperate to leave.

For this idea of Izzy manipulating and coercing Ed to make sense, there has to be a power differential between them.

Izzy could have material power over Ed. This would mean things like being able to physically hurt Ed, controlling Ed's livelihood, or being in a position of societal power to force Ed into line.

Then there is emotional power. In an emotional power imbalance, someone would use guilt, gaslighting, playing the victim, etc. to coerce an emotionally vulnerable person into obeying them.

Does Izzy have material power over Ed? On the contrary. Ed is literally Izzy's captain. Most of Izzy's early appearances involve him chaffing under orders he doesn't understand or disagrees with, but is obligated as first mate to perform. When Ed returned after Stede disappeared, there does not seem to have been any question about who would be in charge. When it comes to societal power, Ed has a greater reputation than Izzy, along with more charisma.

As for emotional power, there's no question: Izzy is deeply invested in Ed and Ed mostly couldn't care less. No, we're not talking about whether Ed cares deep down. We're talking about what happens in practice. Pretty much the entire show is Ed doing things Izzy hates, and only bending at the last minute to preserve the relationship.

S1E4 shows all of this in action. Izzy lead a raid against a ship for reasons he finds baffling, drawing the ire of the Spanish. Crew died taking the ship. He is trying to keep the crew in line and manage the repairs of the ship, but he is anxious. The Spanish are coming, and he does not want himself, Ed, or the crew to die. Ed is avoiding actually doing his job as captain on a raid he himself ordered; Izzy starts the episode having been looking for Ed. Instead of telling Izzy his plan, Ed decides to hide it to allow Izzy to continue fretting solely to enjoy a dramatic big reveal.

Throughout this, even though Izzy is annoyed, he is at least trying to be polite. Just compare Izzy's exasperated nagging to how aggressive Ed is when he loses his temper in the scene with the miniature ship. Izzy is unhappy, but he is trying to keep a hold himself and communicate.

Ed does what he wants; Izzy's desires are the least of his concerns.

The only exception to this is when Izzy is on the verge of leaving. Even then, Izzy doesn't get what he wants. He doesn't go through with his plan to retire and let Izzy be captain. in S2, he is unquestionably Izzy's abuser, and there's no question of whether or not Izzy has emotional power over him. He shoots Izzy in the leg, steps over his writing body, and orders him killed.

Pray tell, where in this show do we ever see a version of Ed who is cowed by Izzy? One who is the ideal Blackbeard Izzy wants him to be? One who is trying his best to conform to Izzy's expectations?

Maybe, maybe the Ed right at the end of S1. Probably not, considering forcing Izzy to eat his own toe is the beginning of a new kraken Ed trend.

The reality is, a version of Ed that was manipulated by Izzy into acting a certain way never actually existed in the show. There's some glory age in the past where Ed was the Blackbeard Izzy respected, then Ed lost interest in piracy and started doing weird shit Izzy didn't understand. Then he when coo-coo bananas.

[bylertruther]

the fact that mike didn't let dustin touch will or let any of them even attempt to comfort him on halloween night is so telling... if he'd done that to just max that'd be understandable, because she's the new girl + outsider, but dustin and lucas?

the boys they've known since forever? the og party members? the other two guys who heard him out and helped him even when they thought he was just sick with grief after seeing will's body pulled from the river? he's going to say that to dustin, who stuck by his side and believed him no matter what? to lucas, who went to the gate on his own to find will, armed with nothing but his own bravery and his wrist rocket? lucas, who was so upset and angry that week only because he felt like mike was wasting time they could've otherwise used to find will? dustin and lucas, the two boys who stuck with him through everything and who almost died with him for it?

they're the other half of the party. if anyone is going to help him with will, it would be them! if anyone is going to understand and genuinely care, it's them! undoubtedly!

and yet... mike makes caring for will his role. his privilege. his duty. it's his thing that only him and no one else ever gets to do or share with him.

when lucas gets hurt, mike doesn't push dustin away—it's not something that even crosses his mind. he lets them both fret over him and instead turns on eleven to express his disappointment. when eleven gets hurt, mike tends to her, lets others tend to her, and asks others for help, too. when he's helping someone, he generally welcomes any extra hands and guidance he can get because he wants whoever it is to be well.

the same cannot be said for will.

he always goes after him. he always makes sure to permanently plant himself by will's side, like in the entirety of s2, in s3 when he always stayed near will in action sequences (excl. starcourt) or sat with him whenever the party was grouped up, and in s4 when he again held will back and put his arm over him in the shootout. (i can't even say that s1 breaks this pattern, because he spent that entire season looking for him and never losing sight of that.) he always keeps an eye on him, checks in on him, and wants to be the person that will turns to and entrusts with everything. he has always been this way, has never stopped being this way, and he has never once shown this level of care and attention to anyone else. this is specifically a will thing and it's different from the way that he cares about and treats others, including eleven.

he seeks help only if it's something he himself can't remedy on his own—like the d'art issue. he accepts help only if it's from one of will's family members, because obviously they take precedence. even then, however, judging by how he shoehorned himself into their home in s2 and stayed for the shed scene, it's safe to say that he still feels he needs and deserves to be there in some way, too.

we even have canonical evidence that supports this and suggests that mike views will as someone separate and special to him in a way that no one else is. recall: "the last year has been weird, you know? and i mean, you know, max and lucas and dustin, they’re… they’re great. they’re great. it’s just… […] it’s not the same without you.”

like... i just think it's so fascinating and tragic that everyone keeps pushing mike back to eleven, when his relationship with her makes him feel inferior to her, enough that he can't even call himself the lois to her superman, and like he's some random useless nerd with nothing to offer. he knows that she doesn't need him, knows that she's been lying to him - which suggests a lack of trust in him, and maybe even doubts that she even wants him anymore after "from, el". and he stays in this relationship! because he thinks it's what he deserves! he thinks this is what relationships are like! but will...

will makes him feel needed, understood, and loved. will makes him feel like superman. not because he has any powers, but just because of who he is, because of how fiercely he loves, and because of how brave and smart he always is. will loves his nerdiness, considers it his strength even, and paints him a portrait that shows just that—a reminder for if he ever dares forget. will looks at him and loves everything that he sees, and makes sure that mike knows it, too. will hears him without mike ever needing to say anything at all. he knows mike and he loves him and he makes it known. he doesn't let mike forget and he doesn't shut him down.

in turn, mike views will as his equal, his teammate, and his best of best friends. he cares about will not out of necessity, because this is a role given to him by others, or because the fate of the world depends on it, but because he wants to and it's how they've always been. they're the cleric and the paladin: will is forever going to do his best to heal the bruises on mike's heart and mike is forever going to do whatever he can to protect will.

mike gets upset when he thinks that will hasn't paid enough attention to him (see: rink-o-mania) and he gets upset when someone else tries to comfort will, because he feels that's his place (see: halloween). he wants that to be their thing and only their thing.

in s1 dustin says that lucas is mike's best friend. if mike is this devoted to will, to the point that others are worried about him at times, then what does that make will to him? if, as s4 showed us, going after someone without hesitation even when it's dangerous, stupid, and the odds of success are stacked against you, is a sign of true love, then... what is will? mike took it so personally any time someone slighted will to the point that he physically fought back for once. he almost died to save will multiple times. in s1 everyone thinks he's been acting weird or hurting because of him, but then they see that eleven is a girl and they chalk it up to that instead and inadvertently push him in that direction.

i'm not saying that mike knew what his feelings were in s1, especially since he couldn't even describe what romance was to eleven before he kissed her, but i do think that his feelings were there and confirmed tenfold by season four. whatever will is to him, "it's not the same" and we've always been shown that.

[piromantic]

gender rambling

this isn't about how i feel on the inside or trying to sort out any of that stuff. the older i get the less i care about applying the gender dichotomy to my own feelings or trying to describe myself within this framework that doesn't really mean anything, like i'm myself and i'm good with that

however. we live in a society.

ngl for this being the 'burnt out gifted kid transgender' website i've never actually seen any discussions about gender within competitive academic settings. i've seen some mentions of how toxic masculinity presents differently in nerd spaces, but still permeates it just as much as any other space. but it took like, so fucking long to even recognize it in my own life, let alone unravel how it affected me.

i sometimes play video games with a group of guys from my major and for the last year and a half i was The Team Carry because i had a few hundred extra hours of practice on them. they're all nearly caught up to my level now, and even though they're all the pretty typical 'woo feminism' cis men and have never said anything towards me that was weird or discriminatory, i've started to feel afraid that i'm going to be mentally demoted in their minds as soon as i lose the status of 'carry'. which is irrational, but as i started dissecting where this fear came from it started unraveling like years of my life

it sounds absolutely ridiculous when typed out, but when i'm in my own head i keep going in circles of 'am i, personally, going to lead to the downfall of feminism by not being a woman'.

because i am studying in a field where there aren't many women in general, let alone visibly queer people. things have gotten better for sure but i have literally been in a class where i was the only person who wasn't a cis man in the whole room. so i'm viewed as someone setting an example and paving the way just by existing, which feels like i'm just pulling off a giant deception on people who see me as a sign of community, which feels awful.

but also, i think i became aware of this on a subconscious level YEARS before i realized it outright. like i think about this reaction i have to video games and it takes me all the way back to fourth grade, when i realized that girls were never going to accept me, but if i was mean and smart and loud about it, boys might. so i got really into the Act Of Appearing Smart, which manifested as just being... ridiculously competitive. oh i know more digits of pi than you. oh i can recite more of the periodic table faster than you. oh i can do integrals in my head faster than you. etc etc ad infinitum

when i think back, so much of my life was spent trying to like, win scraps of gender euphoria through 'proving' myself in the academic system. and like. ???? playing the misogyny game is still misogyny. i look back and wonder whether i had a missed opportunity to make these spaces better if i had just pushed back on them a bit more, and whether i was just perpetuating them by being like 'hey guys, no need to stop the toxic masculinity! i'm a girl, and i can succeed in here, so girls who don't succeed just aren't trying hard enough!'

or, put slightly differently: was i just perpetuating the idea that the only way to succeed in these systems was to be masculine.

over time i found that the way boys (and men, now) signify that i've succeeded is to allow me to be in their spaces. guys will tell me about the girls they find hot, forgetting that it's not socially acceptable for me to agree. guys will drop the use of female pronouns when i'm in the group, slotting me under 'boys' or 'king' like the rest of their friends instead of making exceptions. and it's like. if i was a woman i wouldn't let this happen, and i know they would respect that.

BUT I'M NOT A WOMAN. and these things are affirming, but i feel terrible for finding affirmation in them, because they weren't meant that way.

(and i can hear my mother's voice in my head like 'you're not trans, you just want male privilege', and no, i really don't think that's it. i had a friend that used to say misogynistic shit to be edgy when we were in like, elementary-middle school, and i always shut that down immediately. but it never felt like i was defending myself as part of that group. i've just always felt a bit of distance there)

i guess the issue i've been trying to articulate is that things are fine on the surface, but the context for them isn't. if people were treating me the exact same way because i came out to them, i wouldn't feel bad. but i'm a coward and i hate coming out because it usually goes badly for me, and i'd also feel bad about coming out in my area of study specifically because i'm already in the minority right now. (and i don't think it would go over very well, despite diversity trainings and whatever getting more popular.) like i don't want to be the SINGLE they/them in my entire department. that's too much stress for me.

and i have this fear that it would just come across as becoming a stereotype, or being misogynistic. like ohhhh you think you're a man because women can't do math or something. <- insane thing to worry about

idk i need to stop stalling and finish my conference presentation already. if you read this far idk why you would but thanks for making it through all that

[arliedraws]

Just some personal thoughts under the cut…

I was feeling a bit weird about veering slightly into torture porn with my recent writing, and then I reflected on why I’m so invested in putting my favorite character through hell when he does not at all deserve it. I think it’s a way to cope with helplessness. I don’t talk a lot about my feelings about the current genocide and the crushing feeling of not doing enough as one small person in the world—at least, I don’t talk about it here (I am more vocal and active outside of my presence on tumblr/online world), but there’s just so much shit right now that feels like a losing battle, and it’s easy to get sucked into numb apathy when everything you do seems to do nothing.

Of course, this is such a privileged place to be because my home is safe and I have my health and the freedom to go where I want and say the things I want, and I try to leverage that privilege where I can but it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough, and I feel guilty that I don’t do more. Teaching is wonderful and great, but I’m underpaid and overworked, and so much of my life is devoted to making sure kids not only learn to read but to think critically and care about other people even when we are all numbing ourselves to pain and the suffering of others because our brains are so limited in what we can absorb when there are so many terrible things that are happening in the world.

March is also the time of year where I start having suicide ideation. Something about winter lingering in the upper plains with that sort of suffocating grayness gets to me, especially this year following a practically snowless winter. This is also when most of the traumatic things that have shaped my life have happened, and even when I’m not actively thinking about those things, I can still feel them. (Don’t worry, I’m in therapy and I have a very good support system and my mental health is now very well-managed.)

That part of the fic where it says “Suffering was life but life was not only suffering, and once there had been joy and delight between the gasps of sorrow and hurt” is just me talking through my own feelings. Maybe I am sinking into the misery of this fic with a bit of zest, but it’s been really cathartic to make a character realize he wants to live in spite of the horrible things that have happened to him.

The first part of the second chapter was weirdly one of the most important things I’ve written for myself in a long time. Sirius realizes that yes, maybe he does want to live for Harry, but he wants to live for himself too, and even when you’ve been beaten and broken, it doesn’t mean that life can’t go one or that it isn’t worth trying. And you don’t really know if it’ll get worse when you come out of the thing you thought was the worst thing that could happen, but there is so much else that can and will happen too. Life swings like a pendulum, and it has to come back the other way because everything ends at some point even if it doesn’t end the way you wanted or hoped.

Anyway, this has been a very strange spring break, and I can’t believe I’m thinking this deeply about Sirius Black getting tortured and why it matters to me. So I guess, enjoy the whump/torture fic written by a formerly suicidal author if that helps you. Enjoy without guilt because exploring human suffering and cruelty and recovery through the safety of fiction is okay and probably good. Fiction isn’t real, but human emotion and our need for catharsis IS real.

And don’t worry because nobody dies in my fic. And yes, he will be rescued in the end.

[raraeavesmoriendi]

there is. Something. about the fact that trans people who are most often treated by the cisgender patriarchal state as Failed Cis Women are getting some serious ‘friendly’ fire in the conversations about peoples’ anxieties re: the state of modern feminism and how those issues have been treated as somehow sidelined

sure, they’re still capable of misogyny. but so is Everyone. it came Free with being raised in a Patriarchal Society. there is no gender, cis or trans, that is somehow immune to being misogynistic.

like, the fact that some trans voices are finally being spotlighted in the feminist movement is much needed and long overdue.

but spinning around to point at people who aren’t women, women-adjacent, or even aligned with any gender, and accuse them of being The Misogynist All Along like some sort of scooby doo villain feels like it’s still vastly missing the point.

like. the people who have the most access to patriarchal privilege are the same white supremacist perisex guys who are passing the laws to try to erase all of us from existence, and the same white supremacist perisex rich guys who have been funneling them money. it’s the cis perisex abled (usually) straight white guys who still get preferential treatment at our workplacss and are still making more money than all of us. it’s the guys who have a whole church congregation behind them. it’s the perisex cis (usually) straight men who are moving to fight feminism bc they think they’re losing something they’re entitled to, the ones who think that male privilege is their birthright. it’s the fucking judicial system. it’s the electoral college we’re staring down the barrel of in november, and the powers that be that want to keep it there.

it is not the guy who also gets misgendered when we both have to show up for our fucking planned parenthood appointments, or the rest of us who always get talked over when we say “please for the love of fuck can we call it reproductive rights instead of tying it to bioessentialist bullshit, there’s more people than just cis women that have issues getting proper care, trans women included” and then got told by well-meaning gen x feminists that “we have to call it women’s rights for now if we want to save roe, we can educate people later”

…and here we fucking are anyway, by the way, which is absolutely part of the reason that the general public needs their concept of feminism refreshed.

but. call me insane (and I am Mad so sure). I don’t think it should be somehow an offense to consider there are multiple types of transphobia to think about as we update this conversation, and the fact that a binarist perisex system will swing itself in different ways to best hit different targets. these discussions are all owed their due. I think there are more complex things at work here than, as typical, gets kicked around in snappy internet posts.

there’s this weird conception right now that people who figured out they aren’t actually women anymore (or never were, define thyself as thou wilt) are somehow amnesiac to misogyny, that suddenly there’s some huge gap there, when like. I don’t know any of us who ever actually escape it.

I still see post-op trans men - with full beards! - who get called poor mutilated, deluded women, and the violence towards them is gendered as such.

I have many, many non-binary or bigender or genderfluid colleagues and friends who, because they cannot afford to medically transition yet (or don’t want to, as is their right) have their social transition outright ignored. and then have the trauma that comes from having your actual self denied in every facet of your life treated as like, ‘woman lite’ or, more heartbreakingly, ‘easy mode.’

like it’s easy, being told from all sides “no you aren’t” when I have my proper pronouns posted every fucking where I can think of, personally and professionally, and there’s a 25% chance they ever get properly used and I ever get acknowledged as myself, because I still have my tits. that if I try to stand up for myself as often as I honestly should and deserve, I will be treated as a difficult and delusional woman. when people (usually cis men) threaten me with violence, it’s misogynistic violence. I am repeatedly misgendered as a woman when I try to see a doctor about anything to do with my uterine system that I did not choose and am actively trying to get rid of, because as long as I have it, people will overlook the part of me that is true for the part of me convenient to their system.

I am a scholar in my genre who specializes in researching the lenses of feminist and queer theory both. they have saved my life on multiple occasions when I did not have hope for my present. I have been aware of my place in the feminist struggle before I knew I was anything other than a woman. part of my gender struggle was a feeling of loss at realizing that maybe, actually, I wasn’t one, no matter how happy I am now in living authentically.

some of the most misogynistic people I have ever had the misfortune to meet are, in fact, cis women. me and the rest of the “theyfabs” are not the ones who are out here talking about “girl dinner” “girl math” “girl roman empire” “why did feminists fight for women to work I don’t want a job.” me and leaf and newt are not the people causing trad wives and stay at home girlfriends to do numbers on video apps. that is cis women. the majority of white cis women, demographically, tend to vote and pass legislature in anti-feminist ways, which is no surprise given the white supremacy involved there. but like. the call is still coming from inside the house, yet I don’t see them being reviled as perpetrators in these posts about feminism needing a revamp in the public eye. only deluded victims of the patriarchy who don’t know what’s good for them. which is also… not great, for misogynistic reasons.

like. I don’t know, this is long and not very articulate, but every so often I see a post circulate that I in theory should be very encouraged and relieved to see, as it affirms something I’ve always known —

only to wonder if I am suddenly going to be specifically charged with one of the main oppressions I have been struggling against my entire life and likely will be until I die, no matter how I try to assert my own autonomy over my life

or if I’m going to be talked over and have my autonomy rejected and ignored again, because I happen to have “what makes us girls.”

“well sock—” like. I apologize, but I don’t understand how I’m supposed to be in on the joke.

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

I do want to post about the concept of a soul in BTVS because the show sort of fucked itself into a corner immediately with season one by introducing it as a big running theme.

Angel was a crappy human who then became a vampire and as a vampire he was beyond evil but then he was cursed with having a soul again and forced to feel guilt for all his crimes.

Which okay fine that works. If you are incapable of empathy then suddenly can feel it one day then yes every bad thing you did would make you feel horrible. Then he lives as a vampire with a soul for many many years….until he has sex with Buffy and loses his soul all over again.

Which is now where things become mildly complicated.

Angel no longer possessing a soul goes right back into being the world’s shittiest white guy. Admittedly I prefer Angelus cause Angel within this series is just a prop most times, while in his own spinoff show where they often tease the fact he is broody and weird only for him to admit he’s just immensely socially awkward.

Of course once Angel gets his soul back he goes back to being a good person.

Which is kind of a problem for me? We already before this were introduced to Spike as a new villain character in the show and he isn’t like other vampires. Spike despite being a soulless monster “stinks of humanity” according to another demon. Spike loves intensely, Spike is poetic and gentle with Dru, Spike mourns often, he can be depressed or anxious. He protects Dawn fiercely, he genuinely adores and loves Joyce, he mourns Buffy when she dies. There is the point of Spike having a chip preventing him from killing but that is literally all it does, it prevents him from killing. There is nothing about the chip making him be gentle or caring or showcase empathy constantly.

So after living quite a few years cursed with a soul wouldn’t Angel change overall? Does it solely depend on who sired you? Is Angel a lunatic asshole because he was sired by one? While Dru is more empathetic but even her own empathy is immensely short and we have seen how easily she can drop Spike over his own genuine humanity. So siring doesn’t seem completely in line.

Is Angel just a fucking crappy person with a weird white guilt thing going on? The dudebro who goes around apologizing for what he is but lowkey enjoys the privilege that comes with it?

Even outside of vampires there are some incredibly shitty humans in the show. We see plenty of human characters do things as horrifying as vampires and other demons.

So what is a soul?

A soul through Angel just seems to be a vehicle to make you depressed and never want to do a bad thing and the same happens for a time when Spike acquires a soul. For a short period he goes insane with guilt. But then Spike goes back to normal, a soul made no real difference in him as a character other than costuming changing his appearance so he looks more “trustworthy” which I personally find shady and dumb but that’s me.

I know over all it could all be just fantasy rules played fast and loose, but the show repeatedly makes a fucking point of souls. Souls seem to be the key of being an insanely good person despite the main characters being humans doing grossly shitty things, human villains doing repulsive things and random characters again doing and saying gross horrible things.

I wish the narrative had either not done the soul thing at all or at least had gone about it completely differently. Because if Angel losing his soul and becoming a monster then regaining it and being harmless again that should have been questioned in the narrative way more other than the characters just having some trauma they needed to get over and accept Angel again.

The issue of souls is why season seven for me is my fall of season because seeing Spike suddenly redeemed by becoming Catholic guilt man just put me off…and Kennedy. God dear God I hate her.

[aingeal98]

hey its the evil dentist anon (now off anon!) and you got me thinking about cass and children. bc like, imagine her holding a kid, maybe even a baby. maybe she saved them from a fire, a car accident, maybe she is just holding somebodys kid for a second. and she thinks huh. i was this small once. and cain did all of that to me. and like, what she thinks next is very dependant on where she is in her journey of self perception. at certain points of it (like in your excellent fic 'shame, fear and how you play the game'!) she might not consider herself as human as the child shes holding. like obviously cain was a monster, but shes at least glad that it happened to her and not another "real" child like mad dog or his other attempts. second option is i think after a lot of healing, when cass is able to come to terms a bit more with everything, that horrible realization that cain hurt his children over and over again trying to create a weapon with no will of their own, that he did not see any of them as she sees children (nobody better than cass, i think, to admire the beauty and fragility of life in them) and like. feel all of these horrible realizations wash over her as she holds this child that will never experience anything similar if she can help it, bc she desperately wants to use her abilities to protect others, specially the powerless.

sorry for the essay, ive got cass cain on the brain, as you know.

Evil dentist formerly anon! Welcome :D

Cass and kids is so important to me I rotate it in my mind every day. I wonder what it looks like when she saw a baby for the first time. Did Cain bring one in so that she wouldn't get surprised, or did she only see them when she ran away? How different was their body language compared to everyone else? She says herself that her playmates were assassins. If she ever met anyone her own age or younger they would likely also be a trained fighter brought by their parents/handler to test their abilities.

All this to say the first time Cass held a baby would have probably been both weird and terrifying in a way. And yeah she definitely wouldn't be able to perceive herself as ever being one of them. Like technically of course she knows she was once like them but the chasm between her own perception of herself and how she'd view something so tiny and innocent is so vast she'd struggle to reconcile them.

But then later on, once she developed enough to view herself as a person who, if not deserving of love is at least someone who is human enough that she doesn't need to reject it when offered... Hoo boy yeah. If she thought about everything she went through while looking at a baby and realizing that no she really was like that once and her father really did put someone tiny and innocent and helpless through all the hell she suffered... Pain. So much pain. It would take her so much healing to be able to acknowledge that though, Cass's instinctive response before gaining any sense of self love is "Well obviously you should never put a baby what I went through. But I'm ME so it's not a problem." and everyone around hers response is babygirl you did not deserve to be abused. Which is true of course but Cass wouldn't see it that way. It's not about what she did or didn't deserve, it's about how she loved the fighting, loved the training, loved her dad. So clearly she was never a regular baby, but the fact that she was capable of throwing a shuriken at the target and hitting it dead center before she could even walk does not actually make how Cain treated her any more justified. And it takes Cass a while to really understand that and understand her own anger.

And if she ever catches someone abusing kids... Remember that time a mobster tried to kill someone with a gun and she made sure their hand hurt too much to pull the trigger a full year later? Yeah if she ever sees you slapping a child you are losing your hand privileges. No one can stop her from doing it too like she doesn't care if they think she's going too far. They hurt their kid she makes sure they can never do it again. Simple.

Also I really love the headcanon that as well as taking on her adopted father's mantle as the Batman, she also has his habit of adopting kids. Only the projection is different so the first two kids Cass adopts are a child who's parents were murdered so that he could be trained as a killer (which Bruce is a tiny bit judgemental over because he knows full well she's projecting like he was with Dick. But it's fine the child never actually killed someone, Cass took down the ring before they could force him to. He's just traumatized from everything else.) and a baby assassin who was raised in essentially a survival of the fittest situation and killed both all the other kids and his handlers by the time Cass found him. (This one Bruce is a little more judgemental over, but Cass does not care. This is his grandson now. The murders are a part of him and she loves him despite that.)

30 year old Cass, showing up at her and Steph's apartment in the middle of the night covered in blood: Hey guess what :D

Steph: Cass I swear to god if that's another fucking kid you're hiding behind you-

Cass, picking up her new child (also covered in blood) and showing them to Steph like a kitten: Their name is Max they have no family no one can understand them better than me and it would be nice for Roman to have a baby sibling.

Steph, sighing and grumbling but too tired to deal with this shit: I'll get Babs to send over adoption papers in the morning.