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brothersonabunkerbed · 1 month

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Teenage Sam who is hanging out with his friends of the month, laughing and watching shitty sitcom reruns on Chad's family TV (He didn't even know they made TVs that big!).

Suddenly, close to ten at night, one of his friends pulls out a spirit board and puts it on the coffee table surrounded by red solo cups of soda and discarded crusts from pizza.

"Hey... I uh- I don't think we should be messing around with that stuff, guys." Sam protests, knowing in his daily life what goes bump in the night. How his father has strictly told him to never play around with one of these things.

Alyssa (another friend), thinking Sam was just still upset about his fight with his boyfriend brother just smiles and pulls Sam down to the floor by his arm. "Come on, Sam. Don't be such a buzz kill. It's not like this stuff is real anyway. It's just for fun."

And it's not like Sam can tell them any different, that in fact it was real. Very much real.

So he nods and sits down quietly, the feeling of his anti possession necklace burning against his chest as he puts his hand on the little wooden piece.

Little did he know that after their fight, Dean had followed Sam to his little hangout. That he was sitting in the Impala and had a clear view of exactly what it was that Sam was doing.

Before Sam could even have his hands guided to "Hello", Dean was all but kicking the door down. Storming in, after a wide eyed Chad had opened it, and grabbing Sam by the wrist.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Have you lost your mind, Sam?! Huh?!"

And all Sam can do is stammer about how he wasn't really going mess with it and "Dean? Did you follow me?" while looking back and forth from his friends to his brother. Because there's no way his group of people isn't thinking Dean is some obsessive, abusive, stalker boyfriend by the way things are going.

Safe to say that the party gained one new person that night who kept a protective hand on Sam at all times.

#did your friends ever try to make everyone play with a spirit board at least once during a hangout/party #or were you normal?#notes from my HBO weechester series #wincest #samdean #deansam #the epic love story of sam and dean #weecest #weirdcest

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lovesickeros · 4 months

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☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #fic tag #furina #so um. looks around. okay look. i know im like THE ts@r1ts@ dealer (censored so it doesnt show in tags. hopefully)#but the moment i saw furi in fontaine the day it released she became my fav even more then the tsaritsa SORRY SHES SO..#this is my love letter 2 furi (making her suffer unimaginable horrors)#open ended kinda in case i decide on making a sequel maybe #furi makes me feel cuteness aggression so bad i start acting like a rabid animal #furina the woman that you are. thats my girlprince meow meow id kill someone for her #playing her part as archon so well but being so horribly irrefutably human in every way..#five hundred years not even knowing what the real plan was. when it would end. knowing if she slipped up it was over.#and in the end almost no one knew what really happened. a select few people know the real weight of her sacrifice.#furina's story was always a tragedy. it was never going to be anything but a tragedy.#and thats one of the most tragic parts of it isnt it? she didnt know how itd end. she didnt know her story was always going to be a tragedy #furina never knew a thing. and still she did it for the people of fontaine and succeeded.#how do you define “yourself” when you havent existed for 500 years?#to be so selflessly human you give up “yourself” to save people who will never know of your sacrifice.#sometimes i think about the confrontation on the stage and have a week long mental breakdown #sacrificing EVERYTHING for fontaine and still. still! the people closest to you turn on you.#heavy on clorinde. she was as close 2 furi as neuvi fight me on this. i bite.#her bodyguard and friend and she ends up staring down her blade wondering if this is it. she failed. she failed them all #because even when faced with the trial. with losing everything. she still thought only about fontaine. oh furina.#do you think she has nightmares. wonders if she was never meant to win this game of g-ds. that her story was always meant to be a tragedy?#do you think she still wonders if she was ever meant to have a chance at a happy ending? a doomed tragedy from beginning to end

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