#my son <3 he has every mental illness

[eve6262]

happy birthday komaeda

Someone sits on a ledge in a ruined city and thinks about jumping.

The fall is deadly. His body has always been weak, frail and untrustworthy; even his own luck couldn't save him. There's nothing soft down there, harsh edges and rusty rebar tempting him into a fate guaranteed. Few things in his life have been guaranteed, and something about that promise feels comforting, like it's the one thing he'll always have up his sleeve.

In his mind's eye, he jumps. He falls. His imagination has always been lively, but for some reason, this part is blank. "I die" is the only thing he can come up with- the image eludes him. He's scared, maybe, of truly seeing it- the same thing happened when he was kidnapped, mind hazy and gone, wondering: "what happens if he forgets to feed me?" He doesn't want to remember that.

He remembers it anyway, because the one thing the cancer refuses to take his is memory.

When Kamakura looked at him, he thought he might implode. Not for the reason the others thought- something about hope and despair and a name that tastes like sweet poison on his tongue. Not because he was infatuated, even if he is. Because Kamakura looked right through him and saw whatever vines twisted a thousand times over his heart and had the gall to say, "What was the diagnosis?"

He already knew. Komaeda doesn't know why he asked. But he did, and Komaeda answered, and then he huffed, turned on his heel, and walked away.

(That wasn't Komaeda. That was Servant, someone who doesn't exist, a shell of a person.)

Are the children looking for him? He doesn't care, and they don't care; this is a moment to himself, while everything falls apart around them. Monaca could manage on her own if she wished; there's a cruel boredom to her smile, but no matter what anyone seems to think, it's different. There's something hollow about it, something lonely, something sad. Something like the look in his own eyes when he smiles in the mirror.

And Towa City is at least calm. Already destroyed in some sense, largely intact in another. So of course he ended up here. There's no battle for him to fail through or politics to ruin. He just has to sit here, and mess up whatever job given to him, and be laughed at.

He thinks of a serial killer and writer sharing a body and laughs.

He thinks about Kamakura and stops.

He thinks about jumping.

---

"Komaeda, are you sure you're okay?"

They're sitting in a room together. Outside Future Foundation headquarters, but not far- they want to keep tabs on the group, considering heavily whether they'll be let in or not. Some are a given- Fuyuhiko, Hajime, Sonia. Others are questionable- Mikan, Teruteru, himself. Komaeda isn't sure what the suits think, but he imagines Hajime will be staunch about it, and he'll be let in as the group will. Even if he's only a patient for Mikan to fuss over when there's little to do, that's fine.

He has never minded being just a body for the machine. As long as the machine is working towards good ends, he can be a nothing gear.

"Of course. Don't worry about me."

To be specifically accurate, Hajime is half-sitting half-laying in bed, blearily looking at him from across the room, as Komaeda sits at a desk on a laptop. He woke up an hour ago and wanted to be busy with something, anything as a distraction, and he keeps the apartment spotless out of the same urge. But there isn't much work anyone piles onto him, so he's just sitting here, wondering a bit aimlessly why he opened the accursed thing.

Why he woke up is irrelevant, really. People wake up at four AM sometimes, it's nothing strange.

(He remembers stale wind and red skies, and a building, and thinking about plumetting. Except, in his dream, he actually falls, and falls, and falls, and then there's a spear in his heart and-)

Hajime closes his eyes, and falls back on the bed. Komaeda turns back to the laptop, and decides that if he can't do anything productive, he can at least try to bring Hajime's files into some semblance of order.

For a moment, he thinks that's all it'll be. And then he hears the blanket shuffle, and footsteps, and he says, "Am I keeping you up?"

"No," Hajime tells him, circling his arms around his front. Breath hitches in his throat- he can't stand to look back. Disappointment could fill his eyes, or annoyance furrow his brow, or pity worry at his lip, and all three of them would destroy him like a shattered porcelain doll. So he doesn't look back, even if he does sit back in the chair a little. "I'm not really sleepy anyway."

("I'm don't get tired easily," a quiet Kamakura tells him unprompted. He's rarely responding to questions, anticipating them and answering before they leave your lips. "They wanted efficiency." Servant hears what's unsaid and stores it in the shell he's got left of what he was.)

"Did you want to use the laptop?"

Silence meets him. Anxiety frays at his heart- what's Hajime thinking? Is he waiting? Hoping he'll come back to bed so he can make sure Komaeda is sleeping enough for his condition? That's Mikan's job, to worry over his health- he hopes Hajime isn't back to that old haunt that Kamakura used to take up when the two of them were in Towa City. To this day he isn't sure what about it drew the man in.

"You should tell me what it was," is what Hajime settles on.

Komaeda smiles. It's an instinct, like a deer in headlights; if something's too prying, smile and wave it away. "Nothing, really. Just couldn't sleep."

"...That's not true," Hajime insists. But there's sleep still stuck in his throat, thick and syrupy; if he plays his cards right. maybe Hajime will decide he's too much trouble and go back to bed.

("You're trouble," Kamakura states. It's not a question and doesn't sound like a complaint, and it's not like Servant could respond to such a thing while bedridden. There are more words, but sadly, his consciousness fails him, and they all sound like static.)

"...It's nothing I can't deal with myself. You should go to bed- you sound tired."

Hajime just makes a noise, properly bending down into a hug. His arms tighten, and Komaeda almost wants to look back, but doesn't. Now it feels like cheating, peering at an answer he's supposed to solve himself. And he's never been opposed, but the shame curls around him like a serpent.

"I'll join you in a minute," Komaeda promises.

"...I wasn't having a great dream either," Hajime tells him, and course he knew the whole time. It doesn't take a genius to have figured that out. But he was hoping it could be kept in its box where it's contained, not growing, simply existing. A therapist would tell him that's a bad idea, but Komaeda thinks he knows his own brain well enough to cope nowadays. "It was about Towa City."

"Ah."

"You were standing on a high rooftop. I was across the street in a building, watching from a window."

Komaeda puts a hand on his, tentatively and slowly, in case it'd be rejected. Hajime takes it in his, tight and secure. "You were looking down. And I couldn't move."

"And then?"

Hajime pauses. "And then I felt cold, so I woke up. I don't know what was going to happen."

"I see."

"But I think Kamakura does."

Komaeda says nothing. Kamakura's powers of observation are second to none, and of course the husk that Servant was never cared to hide anything he didn't need to. If Kamakura had looked at him for even a nanosecond while he was up on a building, he'd probably see the image in his mind.

(They're on top of one such building. Servant is staring at the edge in lieu of disgracing Kamakura with his eye. He does not notice the arm moving until it's already around his shoulder, tugging him closer. He assumes, in this moment, that Kamakura is cold, or maybe that he thought the ground was going to collapse that close to the edge.)

"You were thinking about jumping," Kamakura states plainly.

"Yes." Hiding from Kamakura is silly. It's like trying to socialize in a hospital bed. "Back then, anyways."

"Come to bed," he states plainly. "It is worse alone."

Komaeda obliges, because he knows there isn't much getting out of it. He shuts the laptop and gets up, Kamakura trailing him into the bed. Laying down is awkward, unsure of what Kamakura wants- which turns out to be fine, because he doesn't care much about taking it for himself, burying his face in Komaeda's neck and pulling him close.

It's warm. With whichever one of them- Hajime, Kamakura, both if they'd prefer that thought- it's hard to think about that moment, because in the memory it is cold and dry and distant and lonely, and now there is a beating heart so loud in his ears it's hard to think.

"...I am glad you never did," he says. "While I was there I would have stopped you. But there were moments you could have."

"There were," Komaeda says. And, truthfully, he thinks that black void is the reason he didn't. The lack of an idea, the sudden fear of the plunge when he imagined the end- Servant could only do things he could imagine, and he couldn't imagine the final moment. Even in the end, he was scared- it would make him hysterical if not for the calm, collected beating heart he feels under his hands. "...That's over now."

"Even if it isn't," Kamakura tells him, "I would rather know you are safe."

He thinks about saying something in response, but they really were tired. After a few more moments, their breathing evens out so suddenly he thinks Kamakura must be able to enter REM on command- the thought is almost funny.

But, really, it's hard to be distracted by anything when there's a beating heart so close to his own.

[ineed-to-sleep]

Little updated ref sheet for Erin because uhm. he deserves it <3

The last one I made is 2 years old now WOW I have no concept of time

[boxwinebaddie]

my favorite baby style ncu continuity is cute tiny hopeless romantic kindergarten disney prince stan falling in love with kyle broflovski at first sight and buying every flavor of ring pop trying to propose to him like 'you are...the most Beautiful person i've ever seen.'

and evil feral kindergarten nj kyle threatening to bite him, fight him and end his pitiful life like 'and you are...so Gahdamn WEIRD. stay the hell away from me, yA FREAK!' and trying to bear mace him skdhs

— but then k-garten stan doing something incredibly wholesome, mindboggling stupid and storybook chivalrous to save k-garten kyle's life, the ice around his cold black heart melting, bein forever changed and falling head over heels in love w boy hero k-garten stan...

...all to take the fATTEST L OF ALL FUCKING TIME because he is too emotionally constipated to confess his feelings and end up gettin stuck in the super best friend zone FOREVER bc every day perfect stan marsh gets lovelier, handsomer and....Fucking STUPIDER.

[ladykakata]

i love your shameless thoughts so much! i think a lot of shameless fans do a lot of projecting when it comes to mickey and seem to think he’s ian’s doormat when he clearly isn’t, he just a well informed partner who understands and accepts how his bf/husband’s mental illness unavoidably affects his behavior sometimes. it’s just like how ian can see that, what might look like a tantrum to most, is mickey being overwhelmed and unable to process certain things and lashing out in the process. getting hurt by each other is sometimes inevitable, but for the most part throughout the series they don’t fully take it to heart because they’re accepting of one another. its sad that some fans will ignore the complexity of that in favour of villainising/victimising and defaulting to ableism.

PRECISELY. You've hit the bullseye there; Mickey comes to learn that certain actions might be Ian's brain lashing out, but Ian does precisely the same with Mickey. Mickey is pretty notoriously (and hilariously, let's be honest) short-tempered and hyper-defensive, to the point where pretty much anything will result in a machine-gun torrent of abuse aimed at someone. There's a known tell with him rubbing his eyebrow if he's SEVERELY tested and ready to lash out physically, and that's true as well.

A good example of this is when Ian was mystified by Mickey's behaviour with regards to the West Side. Mickey is clearly struggling, again he verbally lashes out and he did the same at the party when asked what his drink of choice was. Ian in that scene just smiles and shakes his head, knowing Mickey is rough around the edges and awkward, but he certainly doesn't upbraid him for his lack of etiquette. Trying to get Mickey to admit to anything emotional is difficult, and Ian knows he has to carefully tease that information out without setting Mickey off on a rant or him shutting down (the latter more likely). He did so beautifully when trying to figure out why Mickey didn't want the nice apartment on the West side, and Mickey finally admitted that it makes him deeply uncomfortable. Having gotten the answer, Ian accepts that, and de-escalates the situation by calmly agreeing, despite Mickey being suspicious about him not arguing. Eventually, after some back and forth, Mickey agrees to move and Ian lets him have his caveats, ending the exchange by reaffirming that Ian loves Mickey's rough side ("You're such a fucking barbarian" "Thank you <3"). Mickey is so socially awkward for someone full of bluff and bluster and I REALLY want to cover that in a post.

I'm on anti-depressants, and a side effect of making my emotions even and focusing my brain without it having a meltdown every two minutes with emotions, it also makes you a little emotionally numb. It can make you look very calm and collected, which is also a bonus in certain circumstances, but also can come across as cold or uncaring in the wrong circumstances. When Mickey was trying to process his father's death, Ian was borderline confused about his upset, which again can come across as very cold, but being someone under the influence of anti-depressants, I do wonder if the writers were taking that into consideration, as well as Ian's deep loathing for Terry and not quite getting how upset Mickey would be over the death. I think he eventually will realise it's not so much the fact he's died, it's the lost potential for them to reconcile and be a proper father-and-son. Mickey had a glimpse of it, and it's heartbreaking to see.

In my opinion, the deleted scene where Mickey questions Ian's mood and expresses concern should have been kept in. Ian has done it for Mickey, and it's so soft and gentle the way he probes into how Ian is feeling without, again, making Ian shut down or push him away. Plus, it had Mickey referring to Ian out loud as his husband, and we all need more of that <3

[hannigramislife]

Question: What's your opinion on all Dazai ships? I personally think that literally everyone could do better <3

Omgg anon, I love this ask so goddamn much!! Okay, let's get into it-this is gonna be long.

Two things before I continue. One, I'm a Hannigram fan, make of that what you will. Secondly, shipping does not mean "oh, these two are definitely canon, they have feelings for each other," shipping has always meant "I love their dynamic and can see a world where it could be romantic." That's why we have more than one.

Soukoku (Dazai/Chuuya) - Obviously this was gonna be my first choice to start this conversation. I think that soukoku is textually supported. I'm sorry, but there's just some things you don't write if you don't want people to ship two characters. These two are written for each other, therefore a perfectly valid ship. I myself do not ship skk, don't care about them as a ship at all, but I can certainly see the appeal. They have a history, and they're now on opposite sides, but still every bit the lethal team-up. I don't get the emotional side of it though – they inspire no such feeling in me, and I do believe Chuuya could definitely do better XD

Kunizai (Kunikida/Dazai) - This one I actually like quite a lot. I don't necessarily ship them in canon, but I believe they're good for each other. Kunikida with his rigidness and morals and Dazai with his carelessness and disaster that seems to follow him. I also like how Kunikida has a book where he jots down the best way to live, and Dazai has a book he carries around on how to die. I believe they're very different, but the sincere trust and care they have for each other, as well as the easiness of their partnership is something they both rely on and need. 10/10 ship.

Dazatsu (Dazai/Atsushi) - The age gap here is the biggest problem for people from what I've seen, but I don't think this is a proship or a bad ship that should be discouraged. Again, I don't ship it, but I feel it's perfectly fine if you do? "Oh, there's a power imbalance-" bitch, what power imbalance?? Like, you do know they're coworkers, right? Yes, Dazai saved him and Atsushi is grateful, but Atsushi is not stupid or blindly devoted or whatever. What he is, is mentally ill, but then again, so is Dazai, and if you think Dazai would take advantage of him, then that says more about Dazai as a character than it does the ship itself. Atsushi could definitely do better, and to me, that better is Akutagawa XD

Morizai (Mori/Dazai) - Well, I don't think I have any thoughts on this, other than the obvious ones. Dazai was a child in the Mafia, and they do seem to have a more guardian/ward relationship, fucked up as it is. Mori was definitely at least mentally and emotionally abusive to Dazai, from what we've seen. I don't think anyone would actually ship this? Unless you're talking purely fanfic scenarios. In this case, Dazai could do better. So yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and "nope" this.

Odazai (Oda/Dazai) - Now listen. Again, I don't ship this (I don't know if I ship anything that has Dazai, I hate the man), but if you think Oda and Dazai had a father/son relationship, you're delusional. Dazai cared so much for Oda, and upon reading Beast, I refuse to believe there was no universe where Dazai developed feelings for him. I think of them every time I listen to any Adele songs. "Them" being their Beast version. I'm so serious. This is a valid ship far as I'm concerned.

Dazaku (Dazai/Akutagawa) - This one is a ship that I get so riled up about. Because of the fandom. I honestly never gave this ship a second thought until I saw how hated it was. Then, I realized it's hated for all the wrong goddamn reasons. I don't ship it, because I hate Dazai on principle, but sometimes, I feel like I'm shipping it out of spite. It's like people can't make up their minds about the dynamic of these two. When you want to say Dazai abused Akutagawa, they'll be like "Oh, Dazai was a child, too!" Then you say they both grew and are healing – and maybe Dazai cared after all? – and it's all "You can't ship him with his abuser!" Well, which is it now? Is Dazai a bad guy still? Is it so wrong to want Dazai to care? To imagine Dazai pulling Akutagawa into the light with him? When people vehemently hate on this ship, I take that to mean "Yeah, Dazai is the worst, how could you ship Akutagawa with him?" Which, great take, I'm all for that. This ship is overhated in my opinion. Both Dazai and Akutagawa are two important pillars of what makes Bsd what it is. Their relationship is complicated and messy and important – so yeah, I'm not surprised people would ship this. Sometimes, toxic yaoi is where it's at, and you just wanna fix them. Akutagawa can DEFINITELY do better.

Souheki (Dazai/Ranpo) - I think they're besties. Absolutely nothing romantic here for me. I cannot see it, but I love them both, so I'd read fics at least. They're both geniuses who hold deep respect for each other. They may be able to understand each other much quicker and on a deeper level than other people, but I think they'd be a disaster if they were to date. Absolutely not. Plus, I'm a huge Ranpoe fan, so I'm biased.

Fyozai (Fyodor/Dazai) - They have a lot of tension, I'll give them that. They're two pretty, genius bitches playing 3 dimensional chess while everyone else plays checkers. Plus, being on opposite sides?? I can appreciate some enemies to lovers when I see it. I think if I were Fyodor, I'd definitely be interested in this young man who can match my intellect even as I've been alive since Jesus Christ was born. Also, don't ask me why, but they feel so gay when they're together – just, not for each other? I think in a no powers au, they'd definitely experiment together lmao. So, valid ship in-universe? I'm going to allow it. They could both do better.

Sigzai (Sigma/Dazai) - I don't know how this ship got popular?? I mean, sure?? Great ship?? Genuinely don't know what to say. I mean, they're there and they're both pretty?? I guess? Honestly, Sigma reminded me of Akutagawa, it was kinda funny to see. But go off XD??

I think that was it, lemme know if I forgot any major ships!

[thief-of-eggs]

HELLO LOVE <3

Brainworms have been worming extra hard since I stumbled upon your Bruce and Jay post (plus the doomed narratives one,, BELOVED), honestly those two make me so fucking ill oh my god. The tags on ur post? So true. Kith ur tags on the head. LO VE LOVE <3333 adding a little to the discussion since I am ill (and if you don't mind!!)

LOVE THE DOOMED NARRATIVE because their reconciliation is never possible imo. Grief is a wretched force that has twisted Jason's memory from the image of his beloved son into a detached, reckless amalgamation. Bruce compartmentalises to such a degree that if he has to keep functioning (both as Batman and as Bruce Wayne) that he can't possibly face the fact that his actions killed his son. His mission born out of the death of his parents couldn't have killed that bright child who was albeit a little angry at times but so full of compassion and life, right? Right?

But he has to continue. And because he does, he has to, on an internal level, make himself believe that Jason was doomed from the start. That he was too reckless. That he was too much of a mess. That he should've never been Robin (which is true in a different sense, but this line of reasoning is not it) and was destined to die. Bruce's messy cycle of grief has concluded. Acceptance comes in the form of his cherished son now being seen as 'his greatest failure, a reckless Robin, a good soldier.'

And unfortunately, the whole thing about Jason is that he is continually trying to communicate with the Bruce he remembers before he died. They're both on completely different pages in this conversation, and Jason is so mentally ill—oh my god, PTSD?—and he's trying to communicate with someone who doesn't remember him as he was. Plus, Gotham is such an intrinsic part of him that he can never pull away from it. He just gets stuck in a cycle, continually pulling away and then reaching out, and then pulling away—essentially in Limbo.

SJSJOSAOSKSOS I DO LOVE THE BRUCE AND JAY RECONCILE NARRATIVE ���😭 THEY'RE BOTH NUANCED CHARACTERS, I BELIEVE IN THEM BUT GOD... the amount of growth they'd have to show from both their sides for that to ever happen??? YEAH. NO. 😭😭 AaaaaAAAA

ANYHOW. RANDOM WORDDUMP. U HAVE COOL AF POSTS !!!!! much love !!!!! Thank u for appearing on my tl :D !!!!!

HELLO HELLO!!! WELCOME !!

PLZ add on omg RAHHHHHH !!! Nothing makes me feel more loved as a writer and poster than seeing people get inspired by my silly little words and seeing them expand on !!!!

Also yes yes YES Jason Todd is one of my favorite muses for doomed narratives!! Every single goddamn relationship that kid attempts to have is destined to fail. From his mom to his short-lived time as Bruce’s apprentice/son, to his fragile and tense relationships with his almost-but-not-quite siblings.

Jaw on the floor, first off. Do you write??? Please do you write???? I need to read more of your words if so bc you understand these characters on SUCH a deep level UGH

“-he can’t possibly face the fact that his actions killed his son” - THIS THIS THIS !!!! Bruce is an immovable wall with Jason because he CANNOT accept the accountability. It’s like Jason is having a completely different battle with him, because Jason sees things for as they are, if not a little tainted by his own begrudged feelings, but meanwhile Bruce is seeing things through a clouded lens of denial. Bruce doesn’t understand the pain he caused Jason because he cannot even see it. It does not exist in his mind. Because to accept the pain is to accept WHY the pain is there, which in turn would just spiral out of control and Bruce is forced to accept that his no-kill ideal ended up digging his son’s own grave.

Ugh LOVE the idea of Bruce gaslighting himself into thinking this was how it was always fated to be. Putting the blame not on himself or Jason or the Joker, but on some higher being that he doesn’t even believe in. It’s such a Bruce coping mechanism. Sweeping everything under the rug bc now he can’t see it. IM UNWELL

YES YES THEY ARE ON SUCH DIFFERENT PAGES!!! YOU GET IT!!! They literally are having two separate conversations and neither understands why their words aren’t sinking in to the other. They may as well be talking to their own hallucinations at this point- Jason at the memory of his father and Bruce at the doomed ghost of a boy who once was.

And YUP that’s why I write little “good dad bruce” fics and read so many too, because I WANT them to reconcile but… in the actual real world reality? I think the best they could do is an uncomfortable middle ground. Where Jason is no longer antagonized, but not exactly welcomed either. He’d have an expected seat at the table, but he’d never come. He’d be on every place card, every invite, but he’d never show up. He’d be included, but would choose to stay away. And that breaks my heart but also I truly don’t think either of them can go beyond that. In an effort to cling to familiarity and sanity and a guilt free life, Bruce pushed his biggest regret away. He could have had his son back, but instead he chose to believe it couldn’t be true. And like the greatest self fulfilled prophecy, he made it true.

ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR STOPPING BY AND BLESSING MY INBOX !!! seeing so many words made my itty bitty heart so happy. biggest MWAH to you <33

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Is Harry not being able to talk/walk yet in TMWWBK a nod towards the ill effects his treatment has had on his development or you and Vinelle not considering child development?

The Man Who Would Be King by Me and @therealvinelle

Relevant excerpts from the fic:

Mrs. Potter was next to him, writing in a Muggle notebook and completely ignoring her son, who’d toddled off to the other side of the room where he unsuccessfully tried to open the drawers.

She sat down to resume her studies, while Mr. Black busied himself with a book, and Harry toddled happily towards the playpen, where he pulled out one of the toys You-Know-Who had enchanted for him.

Lily sat dejectedly in her chair and bounced Harry in her lap, helping him to calm down. “I hope you end up having friends when you’re bigger,” she told him. “I had Petunia growing up, she used to pull my hair. That wasn’t very nice of her,” she said, and smiled at Harry’s responding babble.

A factoid:

On average, they say their first words between 7–12 months of age and are constructing coherent sentences by 2–3 years of age. Language develops alongside other skills, such as those relating to movement. As a result, many babies say their first words close to when they start walking — at about 12 months.

From this source

Harry, within the fic, born in July of 1980 is about a year and a half when we start seeing him in December. He's walking about unaided (though not very fast and not with much coordination) and he is saying words for all we haven't put much/if any of them on the page from what I recall. He is not speaking in full sentences yet.

This is not bizarre; he is not two. He is one and a half. There is a difference.

Though it is true @therealvinelle and I don't focus on Harry at this age in this fic. I'll happily admit to that. He's in the scenes, he does things, but without being able to speak in coherent sentences or do much beyond wander about he's not that influential on the main plot. He can't be telling Alphard he's stupid and punching him in the face. At the current point, he's more a MacGuffin than an actual character. He's important, but not so much in what he says or does but in the fact that he exists and is in Location A or in Location B. He's not the point of the fic and isn't even what I'd call a tertiary character.

However, anon, you are free to a) write your own fic in which it's made explicitly clear at every possible moment how much Harry is walking on his own or b) insert the following paragraph mentally between every paragraph (or if that's not enough every word) of the fic

"And then Harry ran up to his mother and said, 'Look, Mummy, I can talk!' Harry then proceeded to do a handstand and five backflips. Everyone told him how amazing he is. Harry beamed and said, 'Aw shucks, you shouldn't have. Now I am terribly embarrassed."

@therealvinelle bids me add that she didn't work for a year with two-year-olds and keep their development (and how wildly varied it is, no two children are the same) in mind when writing Harry just to be called out like this

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 3

MASTERLIST

word count: 1600+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: descriptions of child abuse; religious violence; language; anxiety; jealousy; arguing; brief suicidal/homicidal ideations; undiagnosed unspecified mental illness

When newborn babies are baptized, the process typically involves the priest or minister sprinkling or pouring the blessed water over the infant, while announcing the baptism ‘in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.’ In Eastern Orthodox and Eastern Catholic traditions, the child is fully immersed in water, which seems dangerous, but recorded events of injury or death during the ritual are rare, to say the least. It’s generally safe for the child, barring any complications or underlying issues. But when the young boy’s mother mentioned baptism, her intentions were much more sinister.

He'd heard the water running as the bathtub was filled. He was told not to be afraid, that fear was the Devil’s work. He was ordered to behave, and do as he was told, and he would be cured. He wasn’t sick, he wanted to argue, but he knew better. Talking back would only worsen his punishments; he rubbed a sore spot on his jaw and waited for his mother to call him.

The bathroom was humid, the air thick, and the mirror fogged up. Wisps of white steam could be seen rising from the water’s surface. He wanted to be obedient. Maybe they’d love him, then. But still, he hesitated, provoking Mother’s anger. She grabbed him, her too-long fingernails leaving marks on his arms, and dragged him to the edge of the tub. She lifted him, far from gently, and plunged him into the hot water. The boy screamed as it scalded his bare skin. He instinctively fought in an attempt to be released, every nerve in his body protesting against the pain. He was only a child though, and he was no match for the grown woman that held his small frame against the bottom of the basin. And he wasn’t able to stop her from forcing his head under, nor was he able to prevent the burning in his chest as his lungs begged for air.

~

I knew that dating, and falling for, a famous rock star would come with its fair share of difficulties. When they went on tour last time, our relationship was still new and I was still in the process of finding my footing, so it was easier. I expected all the attention that he would be showered with anytime we were out in public. Whenever he posted a new picture on social media, the comments section would blow up, countless women publicly expressing their desire to get Josh in their bed. Those are easier to brush off and not take too seriously, but it irked me regardless.

Today has been especially annoying. This is the third person who has approached him for a photo. I know I’m glaring at this dumb, starry-eyed girl who’s interrupting our day together, fawning over him like a lovesick puppy. It’s disgusting. And what makes it worse is that Josh dishes it right back. He’s all excited smiles, more than happy to meet a fan. He throws his arm around her shoulder and poses as her friend snaps the picture, then plants a kiss on her cheek. I think the girl might cry, and I’m silently hoping she trips and eats shit on the concrete.

I don’t say another word until we get to the car. I start it and grip the steering wheel before Josh rests his hand on my thigh.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He’s so clueless and it only makes me angrier. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar.” Yeah, that’s all I am, isn’t it? “Tell me.”

I clench my jaw and pull out onto the road. If I say what’s on my mind it likely will only make things worse, so I keep my mouth shut, hoping he’ll drop it. But he continues to pester me until I can’t ignore him. “If you want to talk so bad, why don’t you hit up your new girlfriend?”

After a moment, he does something I don’t expect and laughs. Why can’t he ever take anything seriously? “Are you joking? You’re pissed off because you’re jealous of a fan?”

“I’m not jealous.” I most definitely am. “You kissed her.”

“On the cheek! I kiss a bunch of my fans on the cheek!”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He laughs again, but this time it’s out of exasperation as he crosses his arms and turns to look out the passenger side window. “That’s fucking stupid,” he mutters.

“Okay, yeah, I’m sorry that I don’t want to watch my boyfriend flirt with everything on two legs,” I bite back.

“Oh my God, could you be anymore dramatic? I’m not flirting with anyone, so stop acting like an asshole.”

Here we go. I’m the asshole. Make me out to be the bad guy. Am I being a bit unreasonable and possessive? Probably. But it makes my blood boil when strangers think they have the right to touch him. He doesn’t belong to them. He doesn’t see the issue, like it’s all just a big joke to him. I consider that he doesn’t give a shit about me, and my grip on the steering wheel tightens so much my hand is beginning to ache.

I see a box truck in the opposite lane of traffic, and for a split second, I wonder how much damage it would do if I turned the wheel, just enough. But I shake it off and push it away. That would be outrageous. I don’t really want to hurt him.

I don’t trust myself to speak again, so I keep my focus on the road. The silent treatment only pisses him off more, which I expected. Josh is a fighter; he always has to have the last word, and he hates being ignored. I do just that, though, and he’s fuming by the time we get back to his house. I think it’s best if we give each other some space, so I don’t go inside with him. I drop him off and keep driving, mostly to calm myself down, partially to evaluate why I’m angry and if it’s even worth it.

It’s not. Josh is right, and it’s a stupid thing for me to be upset about. Still, I’m unable to shut off the voice in my head that says he’ll never truly be mine. I know he won’t change, and I know if I want to keep him, I need to bite my tongue and swallow these raging insecurities. I think about walking away, letting him off the hook so he can be fully free, but the thought makes me want to vomit.

As much as I try to reel it in, my mind keeps going back to that girl, and the two before her. I create scenarios in my head about Josh while he’s on tour, crawling into bed with any person who bats an eyelash in his direction. I’m imagining him letting other men touch him, kiss him, fuck him. And the deeper I dive into my own fears, the worse it gets. Then the guilt sets in. I’m beating myself up over how I’ve treated him. I’m ashamed of myself for not being able to trust him; he’s never given me any reason not to. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m fully aware that my personal issues and inability to trust people is not Josh’s fault, and there’s no reason to take it out on him. My internalized precarity, and maybe a trace of narcissism, makes it difficult for me to admit when I’m wrong. I refuse to take the blame where I probably should. But I know if I have any chance of saving what I have with Josh, I need to suck it up and apologize, even if it’s all pretend.

~

I give him time to cool off and give myself time to get my thoughts in order. I need to have a plan. Later in the evening, I text and ask if I can swing by to talk. He answers immediately. ‘Of course,’ like he thinks it’s a dumb question, like he’s not even mad anymore.

I’m wrong about that. When he lets me inside, he stands in the living room with his arms crossed, watching me expectantly. Oh. He’s waiting for an apology. I should have known he wouldn’t be the first to cave. He doesn’t think he should have to apologize. I don’t really think I should either, but I swallow my pride.

“I’m sorry, Josh. I acted like a jerk.” I’m intentionally trying to look remorseful, even though I don’t feel it.

 “Yeah, you did.”

I’m tempted to bite back and start another fight, because fighting is easier than whatever this is. But again, I push down the urge. “I was jealous, and I know it was stupid. I won’t happen again.” It feels like an empty promise, because I know I can’t really guarantee it, but I can try.

“Thank you.” He’s thanking me for the apology itself, but I’m not sure it’s something he should be grateful for. He drops his arms and closes the distance between us. I grab his waist and pull him against me as soon as I have the opportunity. He doesn’t resist. “I can’t help it, ya know. Physical touch is my love language, and I love getting to meet people. But I’d never purposefully do anything to hurt you, Finn. I love your stupid face too much. And no matter how many fans I get to interact with, you’re the one I’m coming home to.”

I don’t know what I expected but it isn’t that. Even when he’s irritated with me, he’s so loving. His words help to reassure me, and my own anger seems to melt away. I’m not entirely sure what it means that he can diffuse that bomb so effortlessly. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out, and all the strangeness will start to make sense.

I place a gentle hand on his cheek and kiss him softly. “I love you, too.”

///

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!)

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama

[turtleblogatlast]

okay so just so you know, im literally in love with your prison!leo au, yesterday i spent like over an hour scrolling through the tag and i think i read every post at least twice (more for the comics). its combining ‘prison dimension has permanent effect on leo, and not just mentally’, ‘immortality angst’, ‘object or place having a form of sentience’, AND ‘leo is somehow made significantly younger than his brothers which very much changes their dynamic without him wanting it to’ all into one which is just amazing.

i love how you combined comedy and tragedy very well!! like, for example the idea of leo being mistaken for the youngest brother, than a son, then a GRANDSON, is kinda funny for a second, but when you think about it for more than a couple seconds its also. really tragic. this poor kid may never be able to fully grow up - not only is he likely going to outlive his whole family but hes also permanently in the body of a child, lacking a fully developed brain and maybe never having the full maturity of an adult (at least in path b, until hes able to find a ‘cure’, if ever). its just. so good!!

anyways aldjsldkksld enough of the gushing (i mean i could keep doing it for like two thousand more words, but if i did it would probably devolve into keysmashes at some point from the Grip this au has on my brain). i am curious, what would happen if leo got sick? i know you mentioned that things like a common cold wouldnt really affect him that much, but what about one of those sickness is that leaves you pretty delirious/feverish and can take you out in a matter of a week? (could be a type of mystic sickness or curse as well, where you don’t know if the victim will survive or not and the only option is to wait it out.) what would happen? would they sort of just decide that its better to find a way to temporarily kill him so his body could regenerate as new, or would they try to take care of him and see if they could wait it out, since i imagine it would be the only time he’d really let his family take care of him in that way. thats all assuming his body wouldnt just automatically find a way to heal the separate curse and he’d be well again within an hour (still not fully sure as to how his healing works, sorry!)

anyways, love this au and im going to be obsessed with it for the next Month thanks

[ cw: discussion of murder / discussion of mercy kill / risky behavior implied / ]

Omg I’m

So touched???

Thank you for enjoying my AU so much, it really makes me happy to hear this :’) This whole AU was thought up exactly because of my interest in the concepts you mentioned - particularly the one regarding the Prison Dimension having a permanent and visible effect on Leo.

I know I haven’t updated it in a while, but I am still working on it and have even finished drafting the next comic, I can’t say when I’ll finish it but this ask definitely pushed me to work on it more so thank you so much <3

As for your question- it depends! In most regular illnesses, Leo would get over them very quickly, only experiencing the briefest brush with the symptoms before his body throws it away, if that. If the illness is mystic in nature then things get a little more complicated, as you’re right in that it could potentially end up as an endless loop of the first part of whatever weird sickness he gets. So if the illness is something that instantly affects you in the worst ways, and it’s something you just need to ride out until it leaves…that can potentially be harmful. Of course, it needs to be a powerful illness to bypass the prison’s curse to that extent though. …then again, maybe something would prefer that for him, should it appear beneficial :)

As for whether the fam would decide to just…’reset’ Leo to get rid of the illness…that’s a tough one. It really depends on how long Leo’s been back, and even then, it’s not something they’d just do, it’s hard for them to even imagine really. More likely, a sickly Leo would merely try to find a cure himself in his delirium, and end up ‘reset’ along the way.

I hope my wishy washy answer was enough! And really, thank you so much again for the kind words, they mean a lot :’)

[jorisjurgen]

How do you think kerubim and atcham feel about grougalorasalar his relationship with joris, the effect he had on joris? And do you have any headcanons about how and why exactly joris and grougalorasalar parted ways?

I'M INSANE. me and @dullard have talked about this in the past.

I must preface this post by saying that there are different opinions on when grougalorasalar vacated Joris's body for real: immediately after the movie, or later.

(People who think it's immediately think so because the dofus is intact again, people who think it's later think so because Joris's eyes change back to black. Until movie 2 we will not know for sure, imo.)

I think that no matter how they parted ways, Kerubim and Atcham feel very protective, but just how protective they feel would depend on how badly their parting went. To elaborate:

I like to think that possibility 2 is correct for angst reasons. I want Grougalorasalar to still be in Joris's body after the movie because if he is, it means that Joris gets to try, and keep him shackled down and imprisoned within himself, even as Grougalorasalar really begins to want to leave.

We have seen how much it hurts Joris in the movie, and if this happened for a couple of weeks, because Grougalorasalar wants out that badly, until Joris physically couldn't cope anymore, Atcham and Kerubim would fucking hate Grougalorasalar afterwards. Which is tasty. (They'd also hate Joris too, for a little while, for making them worry so much. Keeping the world safe from Grougalorasalar's conquests and desire to bring his son back isn't worth it to them.)

If it was something less intense, with Grougalorasalar and Joris having an argument/a physical confrontation — they'd dislike Grougalorasalar for hurting his feelings, and feel betrayed that even after everything Joris has done for him, the left to do his own things.

Either way, I don't think it was something mild, or non-confrontational, because of the way Joris speaks about what happened. I don't think they're on good terms at all, which definitely means that Atcham and Kerubim are pretty protective.

2. Joris views their relationship pretty pragmatically, albeit in an extremely mentally ill way? It had a profound effect on him in every single sense.

Firstly, he would not be himself without the dragon. I think he feels paradoxically grateful for the body he was given (he can't imagine being and looking like a completely different person, and if given the chance to change himself, he would not take it), and completely cursed (he's short, he has weird scaly skin, he's bald..,,. I think he has an Atcham-level of body dysphoria, except he acts more chill about it outwardly (despite, cough-cough, Atcham being the one out of them two who is okay with wearing clothes that don't shield him, even if he dislikes his body too. Actions speak louder than words).)

I think Joris likes his current life too much to ever want to change anything — the concept of big change scares him. So he's grateful for the way Grougalorasalar has shaped him, even if he considers himself to be broken and fundamentally flawed in some cursed, evil, and fucked way.

My biggest insane headcanon take is that Grougalorasalar is (takes a big insane breath) one of the main reasons Joris Jurgen has OCD.

Yes, he was brain blasted 24/7 by child neglect as a child and cried inconsolably if he thought about Kerubim dying for 3 seconds, and YES he lived in a constant state of world ending anxiety and uncertainty.

However, with Grougalorasalar, things get whackier. Now we know that Joris has a proclivity towards violence and destruction. Now JORIS HIMSELF knows that he has a proclivity towards violence and destruction. Now, put this guy, as a teenager, in Bonta — where everyone hates Grougalorasalar for trying to kill them repeatedly. Now, put him next to huppermages, all of whom hate his mom and necromancy and black fire.

These feelings are just how his brain works. He will never know which of the things he feels are normal, and which are Dragon Brain. He will start blaming Grougalorasalar for the fact that he gets mad or annoyed, at normal things, at things that are actually maddening or annoying. He'll think he's evil and fucked for wanting to scream at Keke during an argument. I think he feels contaminated, in a way — like his mind is not entirely his own, and he does not possess free will or control of his actions, which scares him.

ADD TO THAT THE POSSIBILITY that Grougalorasalar, just like with Yugo, may have given him Visions of him killing his two loved ones, as retaliation for their split. Or, spent weeks, maybe months, trying to get him on his side. Imagine this guy whispering in your ear for weeks and weeks about how much you totally want to help him resurrect his son and destroy all your enemies together, and have to repeatedly say no.

3. I think their split was probably dramatic and violent and insane because the two of them are just like that.

My headcanon is the ultimate low-hanging fruit — I think Grougalorasalar wanted his son back, and Joris is against murder and necromancy. Besides that, I think Grougalorasalar values balance ("balance" may include warcrimes if need be), in a way, while Joris values justice ("justice" may include warcrimes if need be) above anything.

What I mean by this is that, after seeing a guy with 7 doomsday weapons, 'Salar will want to kill him and send him visions of hurting his wife. While Joris will be like "well are you planning to kill people, or end monarchy, or question Bonta? No? Good. I only care about ideals, and I trust you, as a friend. I'm a big believer in nukes. [is scared shitless anyway]"

[manwiththemagic]

spn s1 ep4 "Phantom Traveler"

more notes on my rewatch!!

OMG this is the demon episode isn't it? IT IS ISN'T IT? IS IT???

ew an airport. Post 2001 too damn ☹️

"you know what are the odds of dying in a plane crash? 20-1?" BRO. not helping the puking man..

BLACK SMOKE!!

In through the eyes? That got retconned.

WHY WAS SHE NOT MORE FREAKED OUT HE HAD BLACK EYES. chick you are the reason everyone's dead.

HOW DID HE JUST OPEN THAT?? demon strength???

Rip plane

Wait does this mean demons could have done 9/11? wowza...

Early bird Sam!! “good morning sunshine!"

“you get some sleep?” “yeah.” “liar. Cause I was up at 3 and you were watching infomercials” LMAOOOO but also d'awhhhh :((( the nightmares!!

“it's not just her.. It's everything.” THE VISIONS FUCK YES. YES. YESYSYSHSHG

I love the visions plot lines!!

“your never afraid?” “no man, never.” *Sam pull out a knife from under deans pillow.* LMAOOO CLOCK HIS ASS!!

“Thats not fear.” uhhuh...

WAIT THIS IS THE DEANS SCARED OF FLYING EPISODE LMAOOOOO

reminds me of hunter corp Dean who legit has a private jet..

Random guy calls Dean about the plane issue whaaaa

WAIT THIS GUY KNOWS JOHN. HE HAS INFO.

oh gosh. “yeah he was real proud of ya! Talked about you all the time.” “...he did..?” FUCK.

I still I hate john. I HATE EM. always will 😋

“welp we're missing the old man, we get Sam! Even trade” “aha. No. not by a long shot.” THATS RIGHT. CAUSE UR BETTER MF. uhm anyways.. I like this old guy, hope he doesn't end up SAD AND DEPRESSED LIKE ALL THE OTHER OLD GUYS IN THE OAST 3 EPISODES.

Monster porn live on tape? LMAO JKJK!! demon gotta stop moaning tho.

They definitely aren't showing the crash because they don't have the budget, not because it's locked in a warehouse and you don't have clearance..

Wtf is Evp?

LMAO THE FAKE ASS “nOoOooo survIvoRsSss” they did NOT get that mf off the tape.

Dude sees shit, and is now in a ward. Common. Common.

DEAN STOP HARASSING MENTALLY ILL MAN.

sams puppy dog eyes back at it.

Black eyes 😋 OOOGA!!

okay wait why tf is this demon doing this. They don't just “do evil”...

This guy isn't a monster bro..

Wait are they actually going to the wreckage?

SUITS!!!

“you look like a seventh grader at his first dance! ☺️” SAM PLS.

OMG wait they had the budget holy shit

LMAO HELP ME HELP ME “what is that?” “its an E.M.F. reader.” “no I know what an E.M.F. is. Why does it look like a busted up walkman?” “cause that's what I made it out of! ☺️ It's homemade!!” “yea.. I can tell😒” SAM WOAH DON'T KILL EM!! LMAOSKSK

Sulfur on handle!!!

Oh shit actual homeland security is there..

LMAO THESE MFS GET CAUGHT EVERY EPISODE.

Run bitch runnnn!!

This poor pilot.. it wasn't your fault :(((

Oh shit he possessed.

Sulfur!!

Babies first demon.

NO BC WHY IS DEMON BRO DOING THIS.

Everytime.. 40 minutes in.. WTF

and another crash.. fun..

BUT WHY. JUST CAUSE??

“this isn't our normal gig..” how WRONG you are pal..

“this is big.” it's really not.. you fight GOD. by s2 demons are nothing to you. By s4 Sam's fucking one. By s6 Sam's been tortured for 100's of year by an ex-archangel who's basically his ex 🤷. By s13 your son is part ARCHANGEL. sooo...

Rip chuck Lambert— SORRY CHUCK? mbmb..

Nazareth?? Wtf is this demon on?

40 minutes? Wtf biblical numbers..?

Okay they got the flight attendant on the phone.

WHY PLAY ALONG LIKE IT WAS A PRANK. DUDE.

and she hung up.. girl your COOKED!!

Deans plane fear!! LMAOOO.

“your joking right..?" “DO I LOOK LIKE IM JOKING?? Why do you think I drive everywhere SAM??” LMAOSOSO

LMAOO DEAN WAS BORN TO BE A TEEN GIRL. “really..? Ugh... Man..” while rocking back in forth. He's so REAL LMAOSOS

Dean looks like he has PTSD LMAOOO

“your humming Metallica??” “it calm me down.!” LMAOOOO

“Hey! Say it in Latin!” “i know.” “Hey! In latin it's 'cristo'” “i know!!” LMAO I LOVE THEM.

“cristo.” “sorry I didn't..?” “cristo.” “??” “nevermind.”

Sam is honestly way kinder than me. I'd be making FUN of Dean but nah he's just like "no it's OKAYYYY just some turbulence dwdw.."

Dean you are so awkward.. it's def mr smiley

They found em!! It wasn't mr smiley damn..

Awh shucks.

BEAT THAT BITCH UP!! HE TALKED ABOUT JESS.

PLANE DOWN. PLANE DOWN.

DID LIGHTNING JUST STRIKE THEM???

okay all good now.

Nono demons killed jess. It wasn't wrong.

John redirecting calls to dean.. mf come ONNNNNNNN

Sam's peeved, rightfully so omg..

Kinda meh for an important episode.

[echo-writes-things]

Hi I’m angsty anon😛 I recently got back into the saw movies and am now hyperfixating on them after seeing saw x in theaters. Wondering if I could request a fic about the father/daughter relationship between Amanda and John? Wondering if you could write Amanda getting the shit beat out of her like how Eric beat her up and John’s reaction, what he would do, if he would clean her wounds and take care of her, etc.

YES I CAN I LOVE SAW I COULD KISS YOU ANGSTY ANON IVE BEEN SO DESPERATE FOR SAW ASKS

Psycho Family Headcannons:

Let’s be real Amanda gets into fights a lot. Not even on purpose it just follows her wherever she goes

John always patches her up and tries to make it a lesson. That classic old man “we can learn from this” fatherly advice

It’s a ritual every time they run out of bandaids Amanda gets to pick new bandaids (yes she picks princess bandaids not for herself but to make hoffman use them)

John always hates that he can’t step in and stop Amanda’s fights. He’d ask Hoffman to do it but we all know he’s go “no no I wanna see what happens”

One VERY RARE occasion Amanda had to go to Jill for help getting patched up instead of John because he was gone probably for a doctor’s appointment. It was awkward but they both appreciated the experience

John is gone a lot for doctors appointments (cancer check ups usually happen every 3-6 weeks depending on the stage at least that’s what I experienced) each time he comes back he hears Amanda getting into a fight.

Eventually he pulls the “I won’t always be here to fix you..” and she bursts into tears (see what I did there? I referenced Saw III)

One day Amanda got into a real bad fight with a victim, blood everywhere and most of it was her own.

John when full panic. “What happened?! Who did this to you? How are you feeling? Anything broken? Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

Amanda calmed him down but he still made her sit her gay ass down so he could patch her up.

John may know some stuff about simple first aid but anything past that he’s lost. Stitches? He can barely hold his hand still. But he’ll put some gauze on it and if need be he’ll have Hoffman do it since he’d definitely know more about that sort of thing.

If she’s crying he’s wiping her tears and telling her that it’s all gonna be okay. “I’m here now. Let’s get you cleaned up”

She called him dad once when she was crying from being hurt and he had a wave of emotions. He has mixed feelings being called dad. It was meant to be for his son after all, not this homicidal maniac druggie he picked up off the street. But he lets it slide after a while and eventually gets used to it

Hoffman never makes fun of Amanda while she’s hurt but once she’s cleaned up he bullies her relentlessly

John then has to break up the fight between his two mentally unstable children, “you shouldn’t be fighting each other like this. Honestly you’re both acting like preschoolers”

John isn’t one for “treats”. He’s not gonna give someone a lollipop for not crying during their shot you feel me? So he doesn’t really give Amanda anything after he patches up her wounds. He’ll give her a pat on the back and encouraging words like “you’re strong and you’re smarter than fighting aimlessly like this.”

John is against the whole “Don’t start fights but you can finish them”. He thinks people should just walk away entirely. Silly man doesn’t realize you can’t always walk away, Amanda has tried explaining that but he won’t listen

Amanda is desperate for hugs from John. She never asks for them verbally but he can catch on when she needs one

Despite him practically being bed ridden his hugs are firm as fuck, one of those hugs where you kinda cry a little no matter who you are, just from how nice it feels

Sorry it’s not a fic! I might write an actual fic using these but I’ve had these headcannons held in my brain ever since I saw these tragic mentally ill people. I’ve got so many headcannons and theories please people send in asks for them.

[simonnebethel]

Moodboards for Our Demonic Hearts Characters + Some Info

I realized I haven't talked much about my urban fantasy novel, Our Demonic Hearts, as much as AoC so here's some moodboards I made back in November <3

Ana Kravens

Ana is the protagonist of the story. She is a first-born cambion, daughter of an ancient demon known as Marchosias. Mississippi-born and raised, she spent most of her life with her human "dad", Alex Kravens, before being sent to live with her mother in Florida when Alex became terminally ill. While there, sixteen-year-old Ana met not only the Motloes but her real dad, Marchosias, and learned the truth of what kind of magic courses through her veins. She had momentarily become friends with Judas Motloe, but that friendship ended when she learned he had killed her then girlfriend, Ophelia. After that, something happened that left her with a blank space in her memory and unfathomable rage whenever she tries to remember what happened. All she knows is that the Motloes are to blame for ruining her life.

Six years later, she is living in her late human father's house, recovering from a smoking addiction and looking for a part-time job just to appease her worried mother, when a certain Beau Motloe shows up on her door...

Ana is bisexual ^^ I think she is one of my first queer characters. All of these characters are quite old!

Beau Motloe

Beau Motloe, first-born son of Regan Motloe and Emily Motloe, descendant of a reclusive demon only known as Phenix, was perfect in everything. Perfect in school, perfect in magic, perfect in everything else in life...until a chance encounter with Ana Kravens. Living across the street from her mother, Margaret, he knew he would at some point see her cambion daughter, he just didn't expect Ana to somehow steal chunk of his magical core, a cambion's "second heart", and fuse it with hers. He knew it wasn't intentional and purely by accident, but he still couldn't help but feel like she was to blame for turning his life upside down. While he tried to work through his complex feelings for the cambion girl he was forbidden to talk to because of who her father is, his own father deemed him a disappointment and worked desperately to undo his son's mistake, which ultimately led to the traumatic event that led to both physical and mental traumatic scars on Beau's body, hindering him from doing any spells with his hands. Six years have past, and he still fears the purple eyes that haunt his dreams.

He shows up on Ana's doorstep one fateful day, believing he could make things right with her. Despite his chronic anxiety, he agrees to tell Ana what she wants to know about the traumatic event, in exchange for a location spell to help find his missing mother. Remembering what happened that night in the basement often sends him into a panic, and he fears that he would be unable to tell Ana and that she will learn quick enough that he is too fearful to say a word.

Beau is asexual, and his father comes from the Seminole Tribe of Florida. I don't have a face reference for him like the others because I haven't found a good one for him 😅

Judas Motloe

Since the age of ten, Judas Motloe has known that he is the product of his mother's affair with a demon named Crocell. The whole family knows it, the secret hanging above them at every single family dinner. Regan Motloe feels betrayed by his wife, but treats Judas like his own son, believing his real father to be a dangerous demon.

Judas spent most of his teenage years getting into as much trouble as possible, dealing with behavioral issues that Mr. Motloe described as merely being 'teenage hormones', despite Beau not going through the same things as him. During one chilly spring, he met Ana Kravens, a fellow cambion with an estranged father. He ignored Mr. Motloe's warnings and became fast friends with her, going to parties together and sneaking off into the woods to smoke weed late at night. It all seemed to end abruptly, as Ana started a relationship with his middle school nemesis, Ophelia, and stopped hanging out with him. He believed Ophelia did this on purpose to get back at him one final time, and he confronted her one night. One stupid mistake led to another, and Ophelia ended up dead next to a river. Ana caught on quicker than he realized, and their confrontation led to the incident that left him just as scarred as her and Beau.

Six years later, he followed Beau when he visited Ana, believing that Beau's plan was a stupid idea and felt the need to protect him from Marchosias' wrath. The present Ana was different than Ana from six years ago, and so to Judas' disappointment they were still enemies. Ana's anger for what he did to Ophelia only ignited his own, and so every conversation turned into an argument. Ana can't tell how exactly he was affected by the incident, but she has noticed a strange hum following him wherever he goes...

Judas is gay ^^ his father, Crocell, is one of my fave characters. He doesn't show up until the end of book 2 tho 😭

Also, this book is available to read on Wattpad and Royal Road if you're interested. Planning for book 2 will begin sometime during the summer ^^

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 8)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, discussions of trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Their book is well received, all things considered.

Rosanna is meant to return to the Holyhead Harpies shortly after the birth of their second daughter, Arlo. A perfect little girl, with her mother’s strawberry blonde hair and her father’s eyes. At her pregame assessment, the on call doctor determines that she is expecting... twins.

Draco is overjoyed. Rosanna is overwhelmed.

She isn’t snippy, they don’t fight; she just sort of skates along. Like there is no fire left in her.

That afternoon, Draco leaves, with a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you, darling. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you.” She pats the side of his face. “Have fun.”

Instead of heading to lunch with Pansy and Blaise, like he’d told her; Draco sets off to have lunch at the ministry.

He is welcomed into Archer McVay’s office with open arms. “How are you, Draco? Long time no see.”

Rosanna and Draco have made themselves scarce, upon returning to the manor. Neither of their parents have seen much of them or their grandchildren.

“I’m alright. Thank you for meeting with me.”

Archer can see the distress scrawled across his son-in-law’s features. “You look like something is troubling you. Please, take a seat.”

Draco sits in the chair opposite Rosanna’s father. "I feel quite awful, coming to you like this." He begins fidgeting with his shirt collar, feeling constricted in the material. "Our marriage is sacred, I hate to betray her trust. But I don't know what else to do."

"I'd like to help." Archer leans forward. "If it makes you feel any better Ron, Hermione and Harry beat you to it. They were in my office about a week ago, expressing their concerns."

"What did they say?" Draco shifts.

"They thought she 'looked ill, not at all like herself and like she hadn't slept in a fortnight.'" The older man explains.

Draco can deduce which member of the trio had made each comment. "She's been having night terrors, nearly every night. She doesn't want to sleep because of it. Rosanna is an amazing mother, the girls haven't noticed a difference. But I worry, she's quite literally running herself into the ground. I've tried all I can think of," Draco sighs. "But everything that used to help is only taking the edge off."

"Have you ever heard of post traumatic stress disorder?" Archer removes his glasses, running his fingers down the bridge of his nose.

“No.”

"She's not alone, it's very common. I won't name names, but more than one of her close friends suffer from it as well." But it's not his story to tell.

"What happens...if she has it?" Draco asks, nervously.

"The first step is to have an assessment by a professional. But generally speaking, she would go to therapy, maybe they'll prescribe a potion for her to take. Everything is done on a case by case basis, so any care she receives will be especially tailored for Rosanna." The older man explains, patiently.

"But if this is, the stress disorder, from the war. Why hasn’t it happened before?" It's been years since the war, years of happiness.

"Everyone is different. Something might have triggered it, or maybe things are resurfacing that her mind may have repressed. I would talk to her, son. Have you tried that?" Archer asks.

"I don't want to upset her." Draco runs a finger over his wedding ring. "With the pregnancy and the girls-"

"That's exactly why you should get her the help she needs. She'll be grateful to you in the long run, if not right away."

———————————————————————-

Narcissa and Lucius began building a mansion on the empty land of the Malfoy property, shortly after Leo was born. They left the manor to Draco and Rosanna before standing trial for their crimes, just in case.

Lucius had served just a year and Narcissa avoided detention all together. Using her husband's sentence to complete their new home.

Subsequently, Draco's childhood home received its own drastic make over. He marveled at the way they made it theirs. With colorful paint and curtains to properly see the sun. A small, intimate, table for family dinners, cooking supplies, music, and most importantly; with love. It is everything he dreamed it would be.

Draco enters the manor, soft humming greets his ears. He follows the tune, Rosanna and the girls are in the sitting room. His wife seated at the rear, Leo in the middle, Arlo at the front, wriggling with her doll in hand.

Ro runs the brush over Leo's platinum locks as the four and a half year old does the same for her little sister.

"Hello loves." Draco greets, quietly, not wanting to startle them.

"Daddy!" Leo waves, making no move to break away from the chain.

Arlo shrieks, toddling over to him. He catches the eleven month old in his arms.

Rosanna taps her oldest daughter's shoulder, signaling that she's finished her braid. Lovingly running her fingers over the plait, before Leo charges her father.

"Oof," Draco huffs, when she collides with him. Tangling her limbs around one of his legs and holding fast. Like an animal to a tree; giggling wildly all the while.

Rosanna smiles, pushing soft waves behind her ear. Dark circles, under tired brown eyes, she is still the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on. "How was lunch? Blaise and Pansy good?"

"Quite well." Draco grins, feeling guilty for lying. "How are you feeling, darling? Were these two behaving for you?" He turns his eyes to his daughters.

"Perfect angels," Rosanna yawns.

"You should take a rest, I'll fix dinner after a while." Draco steps toward her, Leo still affixed to his limb, Arlo in his arms.

Rosanna shakes her head, "I'm fine."

"Alright," he doesn't push. "Shall we put on a movie then? Have some popcorn?"

"Yes, Beauty and the Beast!" Leo demands.

"Again?" Rosanna laughs, that's the fourth time this week.

"It's my favorite, Mummy." Leo has an American drawl on about sixty percent of her vocabulary. But Rosanna has always been Mummy instead of Mommy.

"Clearly." Draco chuckles, indulgently.

"I'll go pop the corn." Ro pushes herself to her feet.

Arlo and Leo are engrossed in the film when Draco peeks over. Rosanna sound asleep, Leo moves to Draco's opposite side as her mother begins to snore.

"Why is Mummy so sleepy?" The little girl wonders, looking up at her father with wide, brown, eyes.

"Growing babies in your belly is hard work," Draco explains, tapping her nose.

"Did I make her tired?" Leo wonders, turning to mother. Arlo is still cuddled up against Rosanna, little head resting on her chest, contently.

"Just a bit." Draco admits.

————————————————————————

As they ready for bed, Draco notices how Ro hesitates to climb onto the mattress. She stalls as long as she can, fumbling around in her jewelry box.

"Love?" He calls her attention.

"Hmm?" She forces a grin, crawling beneath the covers, she's been caught.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Draco sets his book aside.

"Sure," she settles, back against the headboard, "what's up?" Brown eyes fall on him.

"How would you feel about talking to someone about, your night terrors?" He moves his hands to her hair, releasing it from the bun she's twisted it into.

"Oh," she snaps her mouth shut. "It's nothing."

"But it is..." He hesitates, "I'm worried, sweetheart."

"Ok," Rosanna is taken aback and maybe a bit defensive. Pulling away from his touch.

"I can make some calls, find someone. All you'd have to do is show up." Draco drops his arms to his lap.

"And bare my soul to a stranger," she adds, bitterly. "What if something is wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you." Draco says, becoming perturbed. "Even if there were, you won't face it alone."

"Would you go too?" Rosanna wonders.

'I will love you more than any obstacle that stands in our path. I will love you more than any battle we may face. I will love you more than you have ever been loved. I will pull you back to me, if ever the universe tears us apart.' Those are the words he'd whispered against her flushed skin on their marriage bed. That is the promise he intends to keep, all his life, "consider it done."

————————————————————————

Rosanna's first appointment is that Monday, following her dress fitting for Ron and Hermione's upcoming nuptials.

"Do you think you'll be pregnant again next spring?" Hermione asks as the seamstress takes Rosanna's measurements.

"That's a good question." They hadn't discussed it yet.

"Are you holding out for a boy?" Hermione says, playfully. Rosanna's children are a joy, she can have however many she likes, as far as Hermione's concerned.

They hadn't really been 'trying' for either gender. They agreed to a large family. Both being only children left them wanting siblings for their kids.

"I'd like a boy," Rosanna confesses, a little Draco. "But I'll be just as happy with all girls."

"Have you thought anymore about the open position at the Wizengamot?" Hermione wonders, when she heard about the job, Rosanna was the first person to come to mind. "They've been looking for a Legilimen for a while. I know you'd be brilliant-"

"Can I ask you something?" The words tumble from Rosanna's mouth.

"Anything." Hermione crosses her legs, setting her wedding agenda aside.

"Did you ever have...problems, after?"

Hermione meets her eyes in the mirror, twirling the modest, round, diamond ring, Ron proposed with, around her finger.

"Ron, Harry and I...we really went through it. Not to say you didn't! Well, I've read your book and- What I'm trying to say is I think that we all-" Hermione stumbles around for the proper verbiage.

"We're all a little fucked up?" Rosanna offers.

"For lack of a better term, yes. There's no shame in getting help if you need, but there is shame in knowing you need help and ignoring it." Hermione remembers having a similar conversation with her fiancé. "Ron struggles a bit more than I do. But we both see a counselor, it's loads better; talking it out with someone. Sorting through everything, you'll feel better."

"Draco said he'll go too, separately and together. I just don't understand why all of the sudden I can’t sleep without-" Rosanna breaks off, looking down at her feet; because she can barely stomach the sight of Hermione.

"What is it, Ro?" Hermione demands.

Rosanna shakes her head.

Hermione's mouth twists into a smirk, masking her disappointment. "We used to share everything, now you avoid me like the plague. It was nearly impossible to get you here. If you don't mind, I'd like to know what I've done.”

"You didn't do anything. I did." Rosanna replies, quietly.

"What are you on about, Rosanna?" Hermione is officially concerned. "You’re not making any sense."

"I can still hear you screaming. I can hear Ron, in the basement.” Rosanna breaks off to collect herself. "Losing his mind, trying to get to you. And I sit there, on the nice comfortable bed, in the nice comfortable house; being celebrated for conceiving a child that I never really had any part in creating. I don't know what to do. Because if I attack Bellatrix, and I hesitate, or if something doesn't go as planned; then she'll kill you and Ron. She'll call Voldemort and he'll kill Harry. So I sit there, and I do nothing." The blonde shakes her head in frustration.

"You did do something. You summoned Dobby and got us out of there. You pulled the only card you were sure they'd care more about than letting us go. You lied about knowing it was us. You pretended something was wrong with Leo to get us out. You did everything you could. I might not be standing here today if you didn't think fast and use your resources." Hermione comes to stand aside of Rosanna, the seamstress having long disappeared.

"I'm sorry," Rosanna covers the inside of Hermione's left forearm, where 'Mudblood' is scarred on her skin. She often does the same to Draco's mark, almost as if she were trying to absorb some of the pain from the marking itself.

"This is not your fault." Hermione puts her hand over Rosanna's. "Please don't think I blame you for a second. No one blames you. When you cast the healing charm...in that moment, it meant everything to me. I struggled with leaving you there, we all did for years. You were our friend and we just...left you." Hermione's voice breaks.

"You couldn't take me with you. You couldn't get to me, even if you wanted too. There wasn't enough time." Rosanna shakes her head. "There was no reason for you to feel guilty all this time."

"Spoken like a true hypocrite." Hermione cocks her head to the side.

Rosanna bumps Hermione's arm.

“I want us to be close again, Rosanna. Next time there’s something going on, you tell me straight away.” Hermione chides her. “I miss my best friend.”

“I miss you too.”

————————————————————————

Rosanna is not pregnant at Ron and Hermione's wedding. After the birth of their twin daughters, Vega and Polaris, they have their hands full. Draco and Rosanna are out manned, two to one. Both grateful they decided to attend counseling. Their relationship, as well as their mental health, has improved tremendously.

"I can't believe you guys are married," Rosanna laughs, full, happy, and thoroughly intoxicated by the alcohol she's consumed.

They lie horizontally, shoulder to shoulder. Ron and Hermione in the middle, Rosanna and Harry at either end, staring up at the spinning ceiling.

"Can't believe you married Malfoy." Ron remarks, no heat in his voice.

"I can't believe Harry hasn't married Ginny yet." Hermione tacks on, squeezing her husband's entwined fingers.

"I can't believe we all made it here." Harry confesses, he's a depressing drunk.

"Way to kill the mood." Rosanna rolls up onto her left elbow, addressing him over the newly wed couple.

"Are you taking the mickey, Malfoy?" Harry laughs.

"Scared, Potter?” Rosanna cocks a brow.

"Enough,” Draco protests, from the doorway. "That's my line." He reaches for his wife’s hand.

"Oh no, he’s found us." Ron groans.

"Don't take her,” Harry frowns.

"We're having a proper cuddle." Hermione pulls Rosanna against her side.

Draco squares his shoulders. "She's my wife, therefore she'll only be cuddling me from now on."

————————————————————————-

Draco and Rosanna attend eight more weddings in a matter of two years, which is more inspiring than not. Like the world is finally starting to heal itself.

Harry and Ginny have a son, James, he's perfect, a spitting image of his father.

After all the years of being cordial, Draco is still hesitant to hold the newest Potter.

"Potter doesn't want me holding his boy." He shakes his blonde head, as Rosanna attempts to hand James over.

"Go on Malfoy, you should be a pro by now." Ginny says in good spirits, despite being slightly sleep deprived.

"I am a bloody pro. But I've never held my former nemesis' offspring, it's a bit different." Draco teases, allowing Rosanna to ease the infant into his arms.

"Look how sweet he is." Rosanna coos, stroking the baby's dark hair.

Leo is fascinated by the little boy. Being the oldest she's always been rather maternal to her younger sisters.

Arlo peaks over the blankets as Rosanna lifts up the identical, platinum blonde, blue eyed twins, for a better view.

Vega points.

Polaris giggles as James wiggles a bit in the blankets and passes gas.

"I think your kid's having a poo on me." Draco scoffs, at the irony of it all.

"Well done, son." Harry chuckles, kissing Ginny's forehead.

Draco turns to Ro, "when are you going to give me another one of these?" He nods to the baby in his arms.

"I thought we were done." Rosanna nearly chokes on her own saliva.

"As many as you'll give me." He murmurs, the baby nuzzling him. Surrounded by his daughters, his wife and dare he say their friends; Draco is the happiest he's ever been.

————————————————————————-

Rosanna didn’t take the position at the Wizengamot when it was first mentioned to her, she needed to get her mind right. But when the job reopens, she all but pounces on it.

The team is thrilled to have her, she works interrogations and makes their job very easy.

Her position opens doors for Draco within the ministry. He trains under Harry Potter himself and becomes one of the most prestigious aurors the ministry has ever seen. Even still, he's never truly trusted or accepted by a handful of his colleagues.

Rosanna sneaks into his office on her lunch break, decorating the room in baby blue confetti. A bottle with a howler slipped inside sits on his pristine desk.

They'd waited until birth to learn the genders of their other children. But this is to be their last and Ro was dying to know. So at the appointment to confirm her pregnancy, she finds out.

"We're having a boy!" Draco nearly faints, once the card delivers the news.

He reaches out, stroking the blue confetti at the edge of his desk. A son...he is having a son. His heart leaps and then tightens, painfully. This is far different from daughters.

People look at them and see their mother, kindness and bravery and light. People will look at their son and see him, cowardice, cruelty and dark. What a terrible fate to condemn a child.

Then again, the bond Draco has with his mother is second only to that of his wife and children. To be the only son in a family of daughters, to be his mother's boy... Loved all his days with an affection meant just for him, their son; sung to sleep each night with a tenderness only Rosanna could give. To know the adoration and wisdom of his father without boundaries. To have a proper father... what a beautiful gift to bestow a child.

Part 9

[snffbeebee]

Poisoned Apples Chapter 1

A/N - Well here it is Ya'll the first chapter!! Now @ezilyamuzed and I have made a schedule for a new chapter to come out every Sunday...That crazy girl has already written probably the next 2, maybe even 3 chapters, so get ready!!

Warnings - Language and Violence ..... just for now, but in the upcoming chapters PLEASE read the warnings!!!

Word Count - 3,375.

“Yo, we got another one,” you heard a voice state on the other side of your office wall as you were ready to pack up for the night. 

“Great,” you sighed as you took off your jacket. Guess it’s another late friday. You walked out to the EMT who was filling out his clipboard as the nurse was getting your new client registered. 

“What do we have?” you asked as you walked out. 

“Crazy son of a bitch,” he replied. “Fucking insane. Just your type.”

You looked down at the blood that he had on his shirt and pants while he spoke. No cuts on him, so must have been the new client. There was a struggle indeed. Great, one of those nights. 

“Does he need medical first?”

“This isn’t his blood,” he replied. He went on to tell a story of how there were multiple bodies found at the scene brutally murdered and him in the midst of it all; silent. It gave you an eerie chill as he described how the cops had to subdue him with tasers so the EMTs could sedate him for transfer. 

“And why is he here then?” you gave him a harsh reply. “He should live the rest of his life in jail.”

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “Cops ran his prints. He’s supposedly dead. They figured this would be best for him while they figure out how a dead guy is alive. Keep him sedated and in a nice padded room.”

“This is not a babysitting service,” you rolled your eyes. “This is a hospital for the mentally ill.”

“And killing 4 people with your bare hands isn’t?” He gave you a look that made you want to punch him. Smartass. 

“Still sedated?” 

“Hell yes.”

“Put him in room 13,” you said with a huff. 

You walked back into your office as the nurse crept to the doorway.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“My 3rd shift relief isn’t here yet and I have to get my son…”

“Go home Anne. It’s okay. Security is still here and everyone is asleep. We should be fine until she gets here.”

“But with the new intake…”

“He’s sedated. He will be fine. I’ll do the paperwork,” you gave an assuring smile. “Go tuck in your little one and have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Don’t stay all night,”She gave you a knowing look. Sometimes she was more of a mom than a coworker, but you loved her for it. She knew you would stay until relief came, and even more likely not go home until well after that. This place was practically your home. 

She left with a goodbye as she gathered her things. The EMT was walking back with the guy 4-point cuffed to the stretcher, soaked in blood. He was a mess for sure. You followed him to room 13 and got him in safely, putting on your nitrile gloves first to check for anything in his pockets that could be harmful. 

The EMT didn’t even hesitate to book it out of there after dropping him off. With a ‘good luck’ he was out quickly. Just you and the mystery man. You look at his still face, he looked handsome under all that grime. You reached into his pockets looking for anything and found a car key for some old chevy and a couple of wadded up dollars. You bagged them, ready to just leave him be until more help came but you felt bad leaving him like that. All the blood, more than likely waking up with that still on him was going to do more harm than good if he wasn’t already completely psychotic.  

After retrieving a bucket of water and some cloths, you worked to wipe him down a bit. Starting with his arm you washed off the blood and dirt, moving him down to his hands, careful of the cuffs. You moved over to the next one when a mark caight your eye. You tried to turn his arm over so you could see, but the cuff was making it difficult. You looked at his peaceful face once more and made the decision to take off the cuff to see. It was an odd red mark that looked like a seven with two lines near it. After making a mental note, you moved to his face. The water revealed freckles along his nose and a little scar on his chin. He was very handsome underneath it all as you continued to try and get the blood out of his hair.

 You had gotten distracted in your task that you almost didn’t catch the piercing green eyes snap open to you, stabbing you in your soul. You didn’t even have a chance to breathe in before his hand was around your throat. As he squeezed you felt the sheer panic inside of you overtake your body as he gave you a look that could only be described as murderous as his eyes hit yours like little diggers. He began to blink rapidly, like he was awaking from a dream.

“Where am I?” his grip grew softer for you to choke out ‘St.Stan’s hospital’.

He looked you up and down before he dropped his hand. He undid his cuffs as you bent over trying to catch your breath threw the choking. 

“Why am I here?”

“EMT brought you,” you replied, backing away from him slowly as you rubbed your neck. “You murdered 4 people when they found you.”

“I what?” he furrowed his glare to you.

“That’s what they said,” you replied in defense, not wanting to make him angry. 

“Cops around?”

“Not now, but I’m sure they were.”

“Time to go then,” he replied as he got up from his spot. 

“You can’t just leave,” you blurted out. 

“Who’s going to stop me?” He gave you a hard glare. You didn’t respond, but stood emotionless, hoping that your words didn’t put you into more harm. “That’s what I thought.”

He opened the door and peered out, he shut the door rather quickly and quietly for someone attempting to escape.

“Shit,” he breathed out. 

“What?”

“5-0,” he replied before looking back at you. “You.”

“Me what?”

“You need to go out there and get them away from here.”

“How am I supposed to-“

“Figure it out,” he snapped at you. 

You nodded as you walked out, throwing your gloves away in the garbage can outside the room. As you walked down the hall you wondered what would happen if you did just give him over. He killed four people. Could the police take him down?

“Officer Tony,” you smiled as you got to the reception desk.

“Doctor,” Officer Tony replied firmly. He was a frequent visitor for cases, more often to shamelessly flirt for a while while you turned him down each and every time. Typically he would call you by your real name and then attempt to ask you out. He didn’t this time. He was oddly still and serious.Unlike him. “I’m doing a follow up on a guy they brought in.”

“The resurrected dead guy?” 

“That’s the one.”

“He’s still sedated,” you responded after noticing Tony was all alone which was something else unusual. Where was his partner Jake? 

“So we need 24/7 watch on time while they do their investigation and eventually they will move him to a more secure facility. We need you to check his mental competency for trial, so we won’t get any of that bullshit insanity pleas.”

“Is there even proof he did it?” you found yourself asking. 

“He was found in the middle of it.”

“What if it was self defense?” 

“Unlikely,” he scuffed at you. “Bastard is going to fry.”

“I thought it was innocent until proven guilty ?” you snarked back. He didn’t really flinch at that, but stared you down like he was the boss. Very annoying. 

“Anyways,” he changed the subject, obviously annoyed by you as well. “We need all your reports of course when you start with him.”

“That’s fine,” you replied. “If he signs a release of information.”

“Excuse me?”

“He is a patient in my care now,” you harped back. “Legally I don’t have to tell you shit about him.”

“You’re going to make this hard on me?”

“I’m just doing my job the right way, Officer,” you posed with a fake smile. “At least one of us should.”

“I’ll be back with a warrant,” he replied with a scowl before leaving. You waited a moment before going back to the mysterious man. If he really was a danger, you couldn’t just let him go back out and hurt people. You had no idea what you were doing, but your gut told you there was something more to all of this. 

“Good job,” he stated as you returned. “Pissing off the local boys is always a favorite behavior of mine.”

“Why shouldn’t I call security right now?” you blurted out. “You’ve already attacked and threatened me. Why shouldn’t I even call that cop back in? Give me a reason.”

“Because you and a lot of people here will die if you do,” he responded coldly. 

“Is that another threat?” 

“Prediction,” he stated as he shook his head. “Now I need your help to get me out of here.”

“No.”

“No?” he looked back to you with a smirk. “Oh I wasn’t asking sweetheart.”

He grabbed at your arm and pulled you to follow him. You struggled against him but then felt something pointing into your back. It felt sharp as you tensed up. 

“How did you get a knife?” you asked.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he said as you felt the pressure pushing into you again. “Now I want you to walk like everything is normal, get your stuff, and we are leaving in your vehicle. One wrong move and you will regret it.” 

You did as you were told, walking as calmly as you could back to your office. You grabbed your bag and phone. He took them from you, slipped the phone into his pocket, and pulled out your ID from your wallet in your purse. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he read aloud. “ I now know your name, birthday, and address. If you do something stupid, don’t think I won’t come find you.”

“How do you expect to get pass security?” 

He looked down at himself and noticed the blood soaked clothes. 

“Where’s your property room?” 

“We don’t have-“

“Bullshit,” he spat. “All these places have one to lock up the loonies things. Where is it?” 

“Next to security,” you stated. 

“Well, isn’t that fun?” he smirked. 

He pushed you along the hallway, you attempting to give directions as you approached security. There was one of the three guards on duty in there and he was busy watching videos on his phone. You pointed to the property room and he grabbed the keys from your clip on your waist, putting them in your hands. After unlocking it, you found yourself alone in a dark room with this psychopath until he found the light switch. 

“Jackpot,” he stated as he grabbed jeans and a shirt. He tore off his clothing that he had on, leaving him in just his boxers for you to see as he got himself dressed. You had turned your head away for a moment, but he made made the comment about you being a stuck up prude that caused you to look back. 

“The other guards are doing rounds,” you stated. 

“We better hurry then,” he replied as he grabbed his jacket and tucked it in his arm. “And remember-“

“Yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “Don't try anything.” 

As you walked out the guard, Bob, with his phone playing some comedy skit noticed you.

“Late night Dr. Y/N?” he smiled.

“Yes,” you smiled back as you signed yourself out of the clipboard. 

“And who is this?” he looked over to the mystery man.”

“My intern,” you blurted out and then calmly smiled. “He doesn’t have his badge or keys yet.”

“Well sign out,” Bob said looking at the man with a suspicious look.

You watched as he signed himself out. Name Jonathan Cash. An alias? More than likely. You said your goodbye and went directly outside of the building after he buzzed the two of you out. You knew that if he did his job it would only be within 5 minutes or so that he noticed that Jonathan Cash never signed in. 

“Which car is yours?” you felt the sharp pressure on your back again. 

“The ‘70 camaro,” you replied. 

“Really?” he sounded surprised. “I would have thought a prius or minivan.”

As you approached the car he directed you to get in the driver's seat and drive normally. You did as directed as he started to go through everything he could within your car. 

“Old water bottles, hairbrush, packs of gum,” he said as he started to toss around things. “Change of clothes.”

He stopped when he saw the underpants and picked them up with a smirk and a wink to you, but put them back away. 

“Where am I going?” 

“You’re place,” he responded. “Need to lay low and refocus.” 

“Well Jonathan, if that is your name,” you stated as you looked behind you in the mirror . “I think we’re  being followed.”

He turned his head back and watched a newer Ford Queen Victoria staying far enough back to not be too close, but still close enough to not lose you. 

“How far is this place of yours?” he asked.

“Two more blocks,” you replied. 

“You have salt?” 

“What?” you gave him a funny look. 

“Salt, iron, any type of weapons there?”

“You’re insane,” you continued to furry your brows

to him.

“Probably,” he stated as he adjusted himself back into the seat and started looking through your stuff again. “But just as a quick rundown precaution, demons are after me. They are dicks that are hard to kill without the right weapons, but you can make them hurt a lot. Listen to me and I’ll keep you alive.”

“Demons?” you snarked as you turned into your street. “Are you on something?”

“Sober,” he replied nonchalantly. “Well mostly now.”

You pulled into the driveway of your townhouse. It was simple enough for just you since all your family were all pretty much gone or states away. He looked behind him again and saw the car parked along the side of the road a few houses down with its lights off.

“Inside,” he stated firmly. 

You got out of the car and went inside. He directed you to sit on the couch while he checked around. While he was out of your sight, you stealthily retrieved the glock you had in your desk drawer. When he came back you aimed it right for him.

“Whoa,” he held up his hands. “Don’t shoot me! I’m not the enemy here.”

“Bullshit,” you blurted. “Now get down on the floor.”

“You don’t want to pull that trigger,” he showed you the mark on his arm. “You do that and things will only get worse for you.”

“Toss my phone on the couch and get down,” you commanded again. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Okay, okay,” he replied as he retrieved the phone and tossed it, getting down to the floor with his hands still up. Before he was fully down on the floor all of the sudden your front door was kicked in, Tony the cop now entering with a friend behind. His eyes weren’t his eyes. They were black as night. They charged in towards you, the mystery guy jumping up in return to attack. As Tony attacked your capturer the other one pulled out a long silver, almost dagger like weapon. He was coming right at you. You put two slugs into him and he continued like nothing happened. You emptied the clip

into him but he managed to keep moving, now right in front of you reaching for you. You attempted

to flea, but he grabbed you from behind, pinning your arms down with his as you flayed your legs to escape. He was strong. Too strong. You finally stopped fighting when you felt the cold steel along your throat. 

“Give it up Winchester or she dies,” your aggressor stated. 

You caught a glimpse of the fight between the cop and your patient. It was brutal and bloody as your patient stabbed Tony in the chest with a similar looking blade. He got up with a murderous look. You weren’t sure who to be more scared of in the moment, but your gut told you that this Winchester guy was going to win. 

“Let her go,” he warned. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Crowley wants you. You can come peacefully or her blood can be on your hands,” he pushed the blade closer to your neck, cutting it just enough that you felt blood drip. 

In a swift motion Winchester threw the blade and it went right past your head into the skull of your aggressor. His blade cut a little deeper as he fell down and you stumbled forward as his grip fell. 

You grabbed at your neck and looked at your hand that now had blood on it. Winchester got down on his knees and examined you, asking if you were alright.

“No!” you yelled as you pushed him away and got up. “What the hell were those guys?” 

“Demons,” he replied. “I told you.”

“Demons aren’t real!” you screamed as you went and grabbed a towel from your kitchen to hold against the wound on your neck. 

“They are,” he snapped back in annoyance. “You saw their eyes and the fact that you emptied the chamber in that guy and he didn’t drop dead.”

“This is so fucked up,” you breathed out, not knowing what to think. 

“Welcome to my life,” he laughed. “And more will be coming. We got to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Fine, you explain the dead cop and the guy you shot 15 times to the authorities,” he snapped back. “That is if more demons don’t get here first.”

You took a deep breath as you looked around. Fucker was right. How could you even possibly explain this and the gun had your fingerprints all over it. Not only that, but whatever happened to those guys, demonic possession or not, there was no way you could defend yourself alone. This was one of those no win situations that you had to make a decision about quickly. 

He was already picking up the weapons and rummaging through their pockets, taking out any cash he found. You picked up the gun that was on the floor next to him. He looked over at you with a cocked up brow. 

“Where do we even go?” you asked. 

“Anywhere,” he replied with solemnness to his voice, almost as if he felt bad about the situation that you were now in. “Grab a bunch of clothes and anything you care about. I’m going to grab what I can from your kitchen to get us by for now, but tomorrow, we need you to empty out any accounts you have because you will never be able to go back to this life again.” 

You nodded that you understood as you moved to go upstairs to your bedroom. Once there, the tears rolled out as you grabbed as much of your stuff you could fit into your suitcase and book bag. after changing into non bloody comfy clothes. The only real personal thing that you took with you was a photobook, to at least remember the life you once had. 

“Ready?” he stated as you descended down the stairs. 

You nodded as you looked back at your home that was now a crime scene. Another tear rolled out as you walked a little slower to the door. 

“It’s just stuff,” he said as he opened up the door for you. 

You glared at him hard as you walked past him, hissing ‘fuck you’ as you walked out and towards the car. 

“Well this is going to be fun,” he snakred as he shut the door not only to your house, but your life.

The Angels & Demons - @ezilyamuzed @daughterofthenight117 @redlipstickandthewinchesters @chocolateheart @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog@ain-t-bovvered @ladysparkles78@waywardbaby@nanie5 @ladywinchesterslibrary @candy-coated-misery0731 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @@leigh70 @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @hobby27 @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @sonotalice @krazykelly @drakelover78 @19agbrown @pisces-cutie @aloneanddesperate-blog @midnightsilver @dean-winchesters-bacon @waywardnerd67 @bobasheebaby

[magbeth]

ep 3 thoughts:

the x-files episode with the fucked up parasite in the arctic rotates in my mind with every passing week. there's something in a core somewhere that got out and is making people experience psychosis, witch trials style. lab and mine connected?? something is literally in the water for sure, beyond baseline pollution

danvers shot that man. navarro is set up as the character who did it but he was whistling twist and shout which is a danvers giveaway. navarro covered for her and got demoted for her trouble, that's why she has a stronger vendetta. rust-marty subversion for sure

danvers is always having white woman moments sort of quintessential to her character at this point. curious about what in her past specifically causes her reaction to visible indigeneity if only so she can get over it and let her daughter live her life. something to do with the death of her husband and son?

enough people seeing the visions that there has to be something happening townwide. i feel like neither mental illness nor baseline magical realism covers what's been going on unless we're leaning much harder on supernatural elements than ever before which would be a little out of left field. but who knows!

fuck lund for real that guy was scary as fuck. lie down. be quiet. please