#using as many tags as humanly possible to get this EVERYWHERE

[smorkulon]

I do not want to tag or directly reblog from this person and give them more traction, but a person in the fantasy high tag is posting AI generated art and acting like it is their real art. Or at least not actually saying it's AI.

The irony that this person watches Dimension 20 and thinks that these people would support AI art is astonishing. Brennan "capitalism is always the enemy" Lee Mulligan would denounce this shit faster than you could try and give a reason for this shit.

[simpxxstan]

what about softdom leaning switch!dokyeomie..

thank you for requesting this BECAUSE I AM OBSESSED WITH HIM! this is my first time writing nsfw headcanons without any proper plot (?) so i'm nervous. hopefully you'll not regret requesting this!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here! the event ends tomorrow (31st July) at 12 midnight UTC. if you wish to request anything (although be warned, i write very slowly), my inbox is open. to those who have requested, thank you for being patient! i'm going to answer them all i promise!

warnings: nsfw minors do not interact implied established relationship with fem!reader, nsfw headcanons. not tagging everything here to avoid spoiling the content but nothing extreme (lmk if you still want me to tag something)

thinking about softdom leaning switch!dokyeom:

who cannot fathom being rough or mean to you, making him literally the softest dom ever. the primary reason he still doms you is likely to be because of your natural size difference (dokyeom LOVES how much bigger he is than you and how he can use his strength to give you pleasure). the second reason is because his life's aim is to pleasure you- thereby making him a service top.

picture him fucking you facing each other literally all the time. EYE CONTACT AND KISSES. my boy needs validation from your expressions and non-verbal behaviour that he's doing it right. missionary, cowgirl, on the tabletop, on the bathroom sink, on the kitchen counter, on a chair. eyes on him.

he doesn't mind the place and time if a. you're willing and in the mood and b. he gets to make you happy. dokyeom, being the energy ball he is, has a high sex drive, and even very little can get him horny. naturally, the two of you have done it EVERYWHERE. concert venue backstage. cafe washroom. shopping mall trial room (yes he got hard when you tried a really pretty dress for him and could. not. hold. back). even the bathroom of one of the member's houses when all of svt and their partners are hanging out.

punishments? dokyeom hasn't heard of it. not into spanking or edging- he would much rather give you as many orgasms as humanly possible. however, this leads to you getting overstimulated without him even realising it. you enjoy it to a certain extent but when it gets a little too tough to bear and you tell him the same, he immediately starts apologising so much and kisses you all over and stops whatever he was doing and lets you rest EVEN if he's still hard. he would much rather jerk himself off if needed rather than seeing you in pain.

not particularly kinky, rather he's a bit old-fashioned. so he's not into roleplay during sex, not into torture or pain, and definitely not into degradation. but his breeding kink is intense. dokyeom's fantasised about having a family from a very early age, and now he's found his perfect partner, he absolutely goes wild about it. (he tracks your ovulation period with you and tries to convince you every time to let him breed you full of cum whenever you fuck during that time. you tell him no but you let him fuck you without a condom those nights, taking the plan b pill afterwards without miss. after the high of the orgasm dies down, he curses himself for pushing you too hard and apologises for wanting to fuck you without a condom. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

BUT i think he's definitely into using toys to spice up things in the bedroom. also into filming your sexy time together. you do it more for him because he seems to LOVE it. he's out of town for a lot of time, so finding a video where you're pole dancing for him has him giggling, blushing, and nearly coming in his pants at the same time. when at home, he doesn't use a lot of toys except maybe a vibrator, but when he's away he asks you specifically to pick out certain toys to help yourself (and him too) to get through nights- like that time he bought a monster dildo for you and you filmed yourself riding it for almost an hour (it was so incredibly hot, seeing you babbling and drooling at the constant stretch but dokyeom got worried for a moment that you'll never like his cock after taking a bigger one. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

and it's the sex toys that bring out the switch in dokyeom. what's better than you riding him and pulling his hair towards your chest until he's sucking mindlessly at your tits as you milk him dry? you pinching his nipples using nipple clamps and  tying his hands back so that you can touch him and kiss him everywhere but he absolutely can't even touch you like he so wants to.

talking about tits: dokyeom is obsessed with them. he loves your entire body, but your boobs are the absolute cherry on top of the cake for him (pun not intended). he's just so happy that he has full access to your pretty breasts all the time- for him to kiss when waking up, for him to sleep on while napping, for him to tease with his ridiculously large tongue when he's in a particularly wild mood. he wants them all the time- video call sex? "baby show me your tits once please" and he cums as soon as you do. quickie? you're blowing his cock, and he's bending down to fondle your soft tits. mirror sex? his eyes are FIXATED at your tits. doggy style? he's groping your tits as his balls slam against your ass. morning cuddle? he makes you wear his softest t-shirts and nuzzles against your warm chest.

unsurprisingly, his love for your tits also enables a little bit of his submissiveness. he may or may not want to suck on your tits while you work on your laptop. he may or may not focus more on rubbing his spit on your tits instead of the film you both are supposed to be watching. he may or may not go cross-eyed watching your tits when you're on top of him, fucking yourself on his dick, during make-up sex (you're bouncing so harshly on him, he can't feel his legs anymore and he's completely at your mercy).

and he particularly loves to be taken care of whenever he's had a bad day and heard something negative about his looks or performances. (words are insufficient so you show him how manly he is, how handsome he is, how he's an all-rounder and how he's born for the stage. he worries he takes too much from you, and he's a burden. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

his biggest fetish perhaps is clothed sex. he LOVES dressing you up in beautiful clothes and lingerie. and there's something so exciting like unwrapping layers of you- each layer more mysterious and pretty than the previous. he loves the subtle sensualness of clothed making out- the way he can touch your thighs through a slit in the dress, the way you grind shamelessly on his dick when it's separated from your wet pussy by the soft cotton of his trackpants.

all in all, he's a 100% romantic partner through and through. which includes eye contact during sex, holding hands when he ruts into you and constant kisses and praise every second of the day, in and out of the bed. it goes both ways- he loves being praised too, all shy and soft, blushing whenever you call him sexy. (he tries to do that thing again and again, hoping he can be the sexiest man in your eyes but he thinks he's hoping for too much. who's going to tell him the truth?)

[fire-but-ashes-too]

get to know my oc!

thank you so so so much @flock-from-the-void for the tag <3

im so excited to do this, finally all the unnecessary traits I gave her will be useddd so so happy

gently tagging: @leisoree @rmgrey-author @digital-chance @maewrites13 @briannaswords @tea-and-mercury @anonymousfoz and anyone else who'd like to join :)

this is my forever beloved (and one of my first ocs that managed to not get tossed away) Giada from Flowers and Homicide (before it was murderous roses)

As I step in the lab, a rotting smell fills my nostrils. I'm seriously tempted to drop this crazy interview and go back home, but then I think of my boss.

And so I keep on walking through hell, knowing that the previously cited boss's rage would be even worse.

There's some guy cleaning a syringe near what I presume is a corpse (don't vomit, don't vomit, dont' vomit) and so I approach him and ask him if he knows where a girl named Giada could be.

After a couple seconds, he sends me off in direction of a room with glass panels, through them I catch sight of a dark, curly mass of hair and knock on the door.

"Hello, are you by any chance Giada?" the foreign name is still new on my tongue, I hope I didn't pronounce it wrong.

"Yes, that's me! What can I help you with?" she answers smiling brightly at me.

"I'm from Tumblr-News," I explain "I was hoping you'd have time for a couple of questions..."

"Oh! Sure! I'm on my break right now, so we have a good 20 minutes for talking"

Are you named after anyone?

Huh, interesting question. No, I wasn't named after a person, but an object. A gemstone. See, my family's half Italian and Giada, in Italian, means jade, also my grandmother's favourite stone.

I think she said something about a ring and a proposal.... doesn't matter though.

When was the last time you cried?

Ha haa... Is this really necessary? Yeah? Ok..Yesterday. I just'd just gotten my period and ice cream fell on my shirt. Don't judge, it makes me really emotional.

The period. Not the ice-cream.

Do you have kids?

Do I really look that old? Damn. And no, I don't have kids and don't plan on them.

Do you use sarcasm?

I believe sarcasm should be a love language. Yes I do, anytime I can, I love it, it's half of my personality.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Well, I'm a med student, so probably the overall appereance, if they're sleeping enough, if they're eating enough, stuff like that.

Also if they look like a murderer. Or like a person who killed someone.

Guilty, in general.

What's your eye colour?

They're jade, like my name. Just kidding, I'd love to have green eyes but I don't have them.

She leans closer to me and opens her eyes more than I thought was humanly possible.

I don't know if you can see through the glasses, but there is a bit of mud green in the brown, so technically my eyes are a bit green.

Mostly brown though.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I'm literally standing in a lab full of cadavers. What do you think?

Any special talents?

Oh oh I know this! I can lick my nose! Want to see?

she brings her tongue to her nose and makes a muffled scream while pointing to it.

I also have an apparently worrying knowledge about poisons and death, but I'm studying forensic, can you blame me?

Where were you born?

In an hospital? Duh. It was in San Francisco if you care to know.

What are your hobbies?

I've already said poisons but I'll say it again, they are super interesting, did you know we exist just because some ancient monkeys got high? many times, and those chemicals extended their brain cells and so they got smarter. It's amazing!

I also love magic, I've thought about joining a cult or something, but those people are mad. Worse than me. I've been to a session, and they were all dressed up strange, candles everywhere, there was the star on the ground, you know that star in the circle? That one.

But I firmly believe in faeries, coincidences do not exist, it's them meddling with our lives. You can't change my mind.

Do you have any pets?

I've always wanted a lizard or something like that, maybe a snake even if I'm low-key scared of them. They're absolutely stunning, but what if one bites me? They are super venomous.

But when I was little I had a goldfish, his name was Alastair, it was my favourite character from a book, can't remember which. It died after month.

It's buried in my parents' backyard. Poor little thing.

Any sport that you play/played?

I think you can tell that I'm not the sportiest person ever, but I was on the track team.

I absolutely sucked, but I was in it.

Oh and in winter I always went skiing with my family so also that.

How tall are you?

I'm 5.3 and I hate it. At least I can wear heels. But I usually don't cause they hurt my feet, apart from a pair of boots, those are my salvation. Sometimes I even wear them here, not today tho.. sorry I'm blabbering.

What's your favourite subject?

Oh, it's the first year I'm taking it but it's super interesting, it's called anesteti- anast- anesthesiology... Yeah anesthesiology. Hate the name love the subject. I think I like it because most anesthetics are also poisons.

But yeah, right now it's my favourite subject.

And finally, what's your dream job?

Coroner. Or working in the forensic squad.

Right now I'm in an internship, but if it goes well they might keep me around even next year.

"And that's it, thank you so much or answering, I'll leave you to... whatever you'll be doing" I smile uncomfortably and hug her quickly.

"Just in time, by break's over so I better get working"

She sets down her cup and shrugs on a white lab coat, quickly waves at me and just like that she's gone.

I walk as fast as I can, anxious to get rid of this disgusting smell.

[ahaura]

my thoughts about character/reader fics are as follows:

firstly want to preface this by saying my feelings may stem from 1) growing up primarily on ffnet where certain types of formats were not allowed iirc (ex: second person POV, choose your own adventure) and so if people wanted to make a self-insert they had to make an oc like everyone else 2) it possibly being a genuine new creative wave that i am not familiar with or 3) following/coming alongside the implementation and popularity of tiktok or 4) something else

secondly i want to say that i have been writing for years & wholeheartedly support OCs whether they're general OCs or self-inserts i think for the most part if there's a sandbox you can build castles in go for it yk?

thirdly i do. wholeheartedly. and entirely. understand wish-fulfillment. i am not a wish-fulfillment or fantasy or fun-having hater. im genuinely not

HOWEVER. it feels like in the last few years? couple years? last year???? there has been a MAJOR uptick/flood of reader/character fics in literally every aspect of fandom like you simply cannot escape it. it's in every single tag for almost every single movie for so many characters. which. like. is annoying for people not into it but i'm not saying, like, it's harmful. annoying =/= bad.

i love my fellow writers i love people reading i love people having fun etc etc etc

all those disclaimers being said. i am SO unbelievably tired of them in a way i have not been tired of a trend in fandom in a very long time. (and im talking about a trend rather than a serious issue.)

i DO think that it requires effort to write reader/character fics. however my beef with them is that they are effectively one-size-fits-all cardboard cut-out wish-fulfillment slots. the goal SEEMS TO ME to maximize engagement. to fulfill the wishes and fantasies of as many people as humanly possible. but the thing is... there is no one-size fits all. there are undoubtedly people who cannot squeeze themselves into the cutout made by the writer.

and moreover i don't think that is the funnest thing to write. is it WRONG to write it? no. is it BAD? no! but i simply wish. that more people would not focus as much as pleasing as many people as humanly possible with their writing and instead do what fulfills THEM. and i don't mean in the "how many comments/how much engagement" you get. i mean, what creatively stimulates you.

that doesnt mean this doesnt require creativity or that some people dont geuninely enjoy writing them. im not saying that.

what im SAYING is that i am SICK of seeing it everywhere and i would ENCOURAGE these writers to TAKE CHANCES! i personally do not find a blank-slate cutout appealing!!!!!! i love, love, love OCs!!!! whether they're general or self-inserts! i love it when writers take chances, when they give their characters defined/explicit traits and personalities! im sick to death of this "y/n" bullshit give me a name give me a general appearance give me an attitude give me a past give me SOMETHING - for lack of a better word - REAL!!!!!! something with meat! something i can chew on!

I WANT WRITERS TO COMMIT! NOT EVERYONE WILL LIKE IT BUT NOT EVERYONE IS MEANT TO! ITS OK TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT SOME PEOPLE WONT VIBE WITH! that's just how art goes!!!!!!

i have personally tried to get into it. and it's not for me. i can say that too, my POV is definitely influenced by that. that's whatever. im not trying to make a moral argument here

second person POV is fun to write in! you can write (OC or not) in it if you want to! it's atool like any other! use it!

i am just. SOSOSOSOSOSO sick of seeing it EVERYWHERE and while im sure it is genuinely creative and stimulating for some people it just feels so. game-ified like those tiktoks that are like "POV: im you're s/o" or whatever like there's nothing WRONG with it but i DO think that sooooo many people are missing out on both the reading And the writing aspect! stories are not SUPPOSED to be "one size fit all!" the goal of art, IN MY OPNION, should not be to maximize engagement! and also WHY is it in every tag cant you guys like make a separate sight for it. ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[magpie-of-a-birb]

@paint-the-ravenclaw tagged me in on sorting Sanders Sides characters (that post is here), and I decided to make a whole new post for it. Here we go-

Editor Magpie here! It's a good thing that I made this a post of its own, cuz boy is it long. Patton's section took up three pages hand-written, if that tells you anything.

(Also, beware spoilers. If you're not up-to-date, I may reference things you haven't seen yet)

Patton

I'm starting off with Patton because, quite frankly, what he's got going on is fascinating. Sad, but fascinating.

He's a very obvious badger primary, but he also has a badger performance layered over top of it. If you've seen The Good Place, or listened to the @sortinghatchats podcast episode where they sorted TGP characters, you'll be able to see that this is the same as what Tahani did.

Patton's primary is for his community, but he also has an idea of what his primary should be. Not "should" as in aspirational, but "should" as in expectation. So he makes a badger primary performance, something that says "look at me! I'm a good person!" but creates self-loathing because he believes that he isn't living up to that performance. And here's the kicker:

His performance is exploding.

He thinks that, to be a good person, he (and Thomas, by extention) has to sacrifice everything for others. That is the badger primary performance that he thinks he should be.

Disclaimer: this is an unhealthy example of badger primary. No house is inherently healthy or unhealthy. There are many healthy, thriving badger primaries, and they are beautiful, just as every other house is.

And his exploding primary put a lot of strain on his badger secondary (he's a caretaker and loves courtier badger). He has to work hard and show up for everyone all the time and he... can't. It's not possible.

The fact that he cannot humanly live up to his own expectations makes his secondary start to burn. You especially see that in the courtier aspect of his secondary. He feels like he should be the "optimistic, goofy dad-friend" and he loves using courtier badger for it. But he burns out from being there for everyone, that face becomes unreliable in courtier badger because he can't feel it all the way down, he's not happy. So his badger starts to burn, and what does he do?

He takes up an actor bird model to handle the strain. He's used to the "happy, goofy dad" mask that it's easy for him to shift it from courtier mirroring to an actor role.

And whew boy, is that actor bird obvious in Selfishness vs Selflessness Redux. When it's clear that the others aren't siding with him, Patton isn't able to shift to match the change to make a stronger argument - as a snake or mirroring badger could - so he doubles down on his role.

"Remember, guys, I'm morality. My role is to make correct moral choices. Look! This is my good and helpful mask! I'm good and helpful!"

He does that all the way until he's sure that it's a lost cause, and that's when he snaps. But his snapping isn't drawing what he knows of the others, it's not using things that he knows will hurt them, not as we expect him to (especially since he uses similar tactics to manipulate Thomas into doing the right thing).

He transforms. Because he can't be angry. He's not allowed to be angry. Being angry is wrong. If he's angry, according to his exploding primary performance, then he's not a good person.

So he transforms. Because he can only be angry if he isn't himself. Patton chooses not to be Patton. He chooses to be a monster. Instead of translating his thoughts to fit the role (like with his dad role) he's using the role to justify the feelings.

Another disclaimer: like with primaries, no secondary is inherently healthy or unhealthy. There's even an example of healthy actor bird later in this sorting.

Logan

First off, his bird secondary is obvious. He loves collecting and using things. He loves lists and plans. His insecurity stems from his tools not being enough. He is a bird.

His primary is a bit more difficult because he doesn't usually make decisions from a moral standpoint, that's not his job. It's clear that he's not a felt primary, and due to the lack of intensity in general, I think snake can be ruled out. So, bird primary.

Virgil

His system is very lion primary. His gut says that something is wrong and he acts immediately.

His tactics are very bird secondary, preferring to construct a reasonable argument about why Thomas should be anxious over forcefully shoving panic at Thomas (which he does do when he sees the situation as an emergency and he needs Thomas to stop/do something now, but it's not his preference).

On top of that, Virgil has a birdy mask up at the beginning of the series. It's one born out of duty (lion primary), so he embodies the role that he's expected to play as anxiety (a bad guy who's goal is to make Thomas scared) instead of being himself (someone who's trying to keep Thomas safe). So he plays the role until he's shown that he doesn't have to.

Also, look at how he acts in the debate between him and Logan. All of his snap-back retorts are of the same type: general, playground insults. They're predictable and formulaic, like a default response a bird may have when they don't know how to respond while in a given mask. Basically: he's falling back on pre-set common phrases that the character he is embodying would say when he's not "translating" his thoughts into those of his character fast enough.

On a side note, I think that's how you differentiate between actor bird from the other forms of masks: playing a role with a tangible name.

Anyways-

Roman

LION BIRD LION BIRD LION BIRD

He hoards music, plays, movies, and musicals like a corvid and references them like nobody's business. His quick wit is in wordplay ("panic at the everywhere" much?) which, while not indicative of a bird secondary, is bird-flavored icing on the cake.

He lives in actor bird, and while his role isn't always applicable, I think that Roman is an easily-visable example of healthy actor bird. He loves and takes pride in his roles and doesn't solely use them as a shield (like Patton and, to a lesser extent, early Virgil).

He's a bit of a glory hound, he's attracted to the glamor that being a well-known creative and a hero entails, and that feeds into his default Hero/Prince in Shining Armor role. But it's wrong for him to pursue that at the expense of those he loves being miserable (see: Selfishness vs Selflessness).

Remus

Remus shares his primary with his brother. However, he's a horizon/fey lion. Everything that is fun is good which, when combined with his loves-to-mess-with-people snake secondary, spells pain for everyone else in a garish neon-green sign that smells vaguely of a landfill and intentionally leaves glitter everywhere.

Janus

Janus is a double snake. His person is Thomas, and anything is okay (especially deception) if it's to protect him.

Bonus sort: Thomas

Thomas is an interesting character. Because he is a character, within the context of Sanders Sides, that is. Sanders Sides!Thomas is not the same as Real Life!Thomas, even if the former is heavily inspired by the latter. As such, I think that there's enough to sort Character!Thomas.

Character!Thomas is very much a badger primary. It makes sense that he'd match primaries with Patton, his morality, but more so, the entire premise of the show has heavy healthy badger messages. Most episodes are about choosing the right thing to do, and Thomas makes that decision depending on what his community (the Sides) think. He's clearly a felt primary, but if he were a lion, then the "get input from others" aspect of the show would not be as effective.

His secondary is less obvious, but I have to go with bird. Most of the Sides have bird secondaries, and as they're aspects of Thomas, that would logically reflect his secondary to some degree. And he has many of the same hoards as the others, joyfully drawing on and pointing out references to things.

There may possibly be a badger (particularly courtier badger) model in there, but I can't confidently say that it's the case.

In Conclusion:

Patton: badger primary with an exploded badger primary performance. Semi-burned badger secondary with an unhealthy bird secondary model (specifically actor bird)

Logan: double bird

Virgil: lion bird

Roman: lion (glory hound variant) bird

Remus: lion (fey/horizon variant) snake

Janus: double snake

Thomas: badger bird with a possible badger secondary model

[for-the-ninth]

Thank you for the tags @oxygenforthewicked​ and @noire-pandora​!! Noire already tagged literally everyone I was going to, so if you don’t see your name in their tags lmk and I’ll bring ya in!

I’m gonna say this interview is being given by a new (and rather nosy) resident of Skyhold, who mostly came to watch all the action rather than help the Inquisition. He intends to do a write up and spread the word across Thedas. Josephine thought it might be good for publicity of course, so she allowed the interviewer a meeting with Shielan, who reluctantly accepted.

Interviewer: So, Inquisitor, tell us a little bit about — Shielan: Gods damn it all, did Josephine tell you to call me that? Interviewer: I, erm... *sweats* Well yes, that is how the Lady Ambassador referred to you. Shielan: I’ve not yet accepted the title. Call me Shielan.

I: Right, of course. *clears throat* So, Thedosians everywhere are wondering, who is the Inquis—I mean Shielan, getting cozy with these days. S: *narrows eyes* Really? That’s what you're leading with? I: I only ask what the people of Thedas want to know! Surely, a strong woman such as yourself must find comfort in the warm embrace of a man, yes? S: What makes you so sure it’d be a man? I: Oh my! Then is there a lucky lady in your life? S: I sleep alone. Next question. I: Getting right to it then, eh? *checks notes* Tell me, when and where were you born? S: I’ve lived for 28 years. My first memories are of being fed by my Keeper. I’m not sure where exactly I was born. I: The Keeper of the Lavellan clan, correct? S: Yes. I: I’ve heard the Dalish are nomads. Whereabouts does your clan roam? S: Wherever they please, I assume. I: You erm... you don’t know? S: If I did I certainly wouldn’t tell you. We are a private people for a reason. Let’s get a move on, I have duties to tend to. I: You certainly live up to your charismatic reputation. S: *rolls eyes* And your sense of humor is unparalleled. I: Why, thank you! Let’s talk about your combat style. Those who have seen you in battle say you bend nature to your will. S: Nature is not so easy to break. People, on the other hand, are quite fragile. I: So, are you saying you don’t use nature magic? S: I call on Nature for assistance, and most of the time, she answers. I’ve neither the desire nor need to use her creations as slaves for my own enjoyment. I: I’m not entirely sure I understand. S: You don’t need to. Are there more questions? I: I’m afraid so. *wipes sweat from brow* Many of us are curious about the Dalish family structure. Is it at all similar to the marriage & child-rearing traditions of Ferelden or Orlais? What are your familial relationships like? S: Every clan has different expectations, but in general, our clanmates are our family, whether by blood or otherwise. I: You mentioned earlier that your first memories are of your Keeper taking care of you. Does that mean you’ve never met your mother and father? S: I’d prefer we move on. I: I suppose it’s futile to ask if you hope to marry and have children, isn’t it? S: Your perceptiveness is daunting. I: I, erm. Well, certainly. Have you ever run away from home? S: Home is a feeling, not a place. Sometimes I am there, sometimes I am not. I: Do you miss living with your clan? S: At times, yes. But I’ve walked the earth alone for many years now. Dwelling on such feelings has yet to change my circumstance, so I don’t. I: I am guessing you’d like to move on now. S: Getting smarter by the minute, are you? I: What about your companions here, in the Inquisition? S: Companions... I: Those who fight alongside you — your confidantes, comrades, whatever you’d like to call them. S: Confidantes? *chuckles* I prefer not to confide at all if I can help it. I: Sounds like you have some issues with trust. Where does that stem from? S: Centuries of my people being enslaved, tortured, and imprisoned by cult leaders might have something to do with it. I: Oh, Maker... I uh, well I don’t quite know what to say to that. S: Good. Move on. I: Right, then. So your fans — S: Oh, for fuck’s sake. I: I’ve compiled a list of questions from them. S: Fine. I: Can you read and write? Where did you go to school? S: Do you ask everyone if they’re literate, or just the savage Dalish? I: I, um... oh, Maker. Perhaps we should try another question. What’s the eeriest prediction you’ve made that later came true? S: That’s a better question for Cole. I: Who? S: The boy beside you. He’s been there for the whole interview. I: *looks over each shoulder* I haven’t seen anyone come by... S: Next. Question.

*The interviewer rattles off the next section of questions as fast as humanly possible, sweating all the while* I: What is something you realized too late? S: That this interview is a waste of my time. I: Do you have any mental or physical problems? S: No, but you might if you continue plaguing me with such asinine questions. I: What’s your main goal right now? S: Defeating Corypheus. And perhaps wringing Lady Montilyet’s neck in the mean time. I: Okay then, just 8 more questions left. What did— S: This is the last one I’m answering. I: *checks notes* Cats or dogs? S: *sighs* I don’t need another thing to take care of. Are we done here? I: Indeed, we are. Thank you so much for your time, Lady Inquisitor—

*he leans forward to shake her hand, but she’s already stood up and walked off, cursing Josephine under her breath*

[banashee]

I’m on a roll today, so there is another bingo square of the @badthingshappenbingo​

Prompt: buried alive.

Trigger warnings for the obvious: survival horror, panic, trauma and anxiety. Also blood and injury

*+~

 Trapped in the dark

 One moment, Tony is throwing back drinks amongst a group of strangers, fake-laughing at some shitty joke, then he’s starting to feel dizzy. What happens next, he’s got no idea, but the glass slips out of his hand, shattering on the floor and spilling champagne everywhere.

 Tony blacks out before he even hits the floor.

     When he wakes up in a small, dark room, he manages to remain completely calm.

 The sensation of coming back to consciousness in a strange place is something that Tony is getting depressingly used to, so he tries to stretch out his limbs in preparation to get the fuck out of - wherever he is. He doesn’t know. It’s hot and sticky in here, and there is already sweat pooling down his face and into the collar of his shirt.

 And now that he tried to move, he’s realizing just how tight this space must be. His feet and hands collide with walls before he can even stretch out completely - which is concerning, given that he’s not especially tall in the first place. But it tells him that he is trapped in a box - carefully, very carefully, he does not think the word “coffin” because then he’ll freak out right away.

 But it’s essentially what this is - him trapped in a fucking coffin. Maybe or maybe not buried somewhere. he doesn’t know - yet. He’ll have to find out, sooner rather than later.

 Panic rises up in his throat, heart beating fast but he forces himself to remain as calm as humanly possible.

 If he had any time or air to spare, he’d have laughed out loud in desperation.

 He’s read so many books, seen so many movies where people have been buried alive, and yet, despite the shit he’s lived through, Tony would never have thought he’d have to experience this first hand. And he really, really doesn’t want to.

     “Stay calm. Don’t waste any air. Get out. You can fall apart later.”     he thinks to himself, and it sounds easy enough in his head. He knows it’s not, but thinking about that right now will not be helpful in any way.

 Moving is hard, but Tony is flexible.

 He manages to get off the buckle of his belt - a big, heavy and pretentiously expensive thing. Solid. It’s the best tool he’s got on him right now. Whoever put him here didn’t think to remove it - thank fuck. He puts it down under himself to keep it safe and in reach, then he pushes off his suit jacket. Once he got that, he’s sweating even more but Tony still keeps his breathing slow and even. He can do this.

 Pulling up his shirt over his head is not easy in here, but it’s doable. Then he knots it together at the top  so the small space under the fabric protects him from inhaling any dirt.

 Once he’s got a plan and working on it, it is kind of remarkable how calm Tony is.

 He’s determined to get out, if only out of sheer spite, just so he can wave his middle fingers at the bastards who did this in a final giant “Fuck you!” before he makes his way back home.

 Home.

 The other Avengers are hopefully missing him by now - they must be, because otherwise it’ll be one hell of a lot longer until he gets away from here.

 One time, just one goddamn time he      doesn’t     pack his frickin’ suit and see where it lands him - buried alive fuck knows where.

 Tony swears he’ll implant the thing into himself once he’s out of here so this kind of shit will never happen again - and if it does, he’ll be able to blast himself out in a matter of seconds, instead of having to blindly hack his way out of a wooden box with his belt buckle, dirt crumbling through the openings he created.

 Wriggling like a worm, and pushing the soil down to his feet, he manages to stay on top of the whole thing. He kicks back the earth and digs his way up with bare hands. He can feel the pain, blood running down his hands and fingernails ripping away. He doesn’t care and keeps going.

 Every muscle in his body is straining, and when he looks back onto the situation later, he wouldn’t be able to tell where that strength and will to keep going even came from.

 But he makes it.

 After minutes of agony, finally, he can smell the fresh air from outside, and it’s the most precious thing he’s ever smelled in his entire life.

 Gasping for air, he pulls his shirt back down, and collapses on the ground, just breathing for a little while, keeping the rising panic in check. He’s in a forest, but he’s able to hear the traffic of a nearby street.

 Pulling himself together and up from the soft, earthen ground, he staggers towards the noise, straining his ears and looking around him to make sure no one is following or waiting for him.

 Tony doesn’t think about how terrifying he must look, covered in dirt, clothes ripped and with no shoes on, bleeding profusely from his hands and who knows where else. It doesn’t even register to him, too relieved he actually managed to get out, until he enters the nearest gas station. The cashier looks at him in horror, dropping canned drinks on the counter and almost shierking,

 “Oh my god, are you okay, Sir? Do you need me to call 911?”

 He’s sorry for scaring the poor girl - she looks barely older than 20 at the most, and having a dirty, bleeding dude stumble through the door in a night shift can’t be a pleasant experience.

 “No, no 911. But could I use a phone, please? And some water. Water would be great.” he rasps out, and she’s already handing him a bottle of water before he can finish.

 “Thanks, uh-” he squints at her name tag, “Joyce. Thank you.” His voice is raspy, and he’s coughing heavily from his dry throat.

 Joyce smiles hesitantly, offering the foot stool she just used to stand on while filling up the top shelves for him to sit on, and a few paper towels so he doesn’t bleed all over the place. Ah, shit.

 “Sorry for the mess.” Tony says quietly, and drains the rest of the water. He doesn’t ask for another bottle, but Joyce hands him one anyway, clearly worried he’ll die or pass out on her.

 “What happened to you?” she asks hesitantly, and he cringes, working hard to keep the rising panic at bay.

 “Life.” he says, and then, after a pause. “I don’t remember much but I got out. Kinda need a phone though - I must have lost mine. Didn't have it on me when I woke up. A shame really, it was a prototype… Gotta have to start all over again… Ah, thanks.” he adds, taking the phone from her with a small smile and dials the number.

 The sound of JARVIS voice is the best thing he’s heard all day. He interrupts his automatic greeting, simply calling his name and the AI sounds just as relieved to hear him like any human would.

 “Sir, I am currently tracking your location and sending the coordinates to the team - they’re already on their way and looking for you. We are all very worried.”

 “Thanks, J. You’re the best.”

 “May I please connect you to Captain Rogers, Sir? The team is very concerned about your well-being.”

 Tony slumps back on his seat, leaning against the counter.

 “Yeah, sure.” A second later, Steve's voice replaces JARVIS on the other end, and he sounds equal parts worried and relieved.

 “Tony, are you okay? Where are you?”

 “Hey, good to hear you, too. Okay-ish. Gas-station. No idea where, but you’ll get coordinates from JARVIS.”

 “Okay, okay. We’re on our way, we’ll be there soon. Sit tight, yeah?”

 “Not going anywhere. Thanks, Cap.” he’s tired, and only notices his slip up when Joyce looks at him, understanding dawning on her face.

 When Tony hangs up and gives the phone back to her, she looks shocked.

 “You are-”

 “Yeah. Hi.”

 Joyce blinks. Then, slowly, nods to herself and leaves it at that - Tony is eternally grateful for it. He doesn’t have it in him to deal with anything else right now.

 “You have someone come get you?” she finally asks, and he nods.

 “They’re on their way.”

 A surprisingly short while later, a car speeds up onto the property and stops right in front of the door - Tony feels relief when a familiar redhead stalks out of it, rushing in and quickly crossing the room as soon as she spots him.

 “Fancy seeing you here, Nat.”

 Tony is ashamed to say that his voice is holding a slight shake by now - he’s not sure if he’ll fall apart or fall asleep first - he kind of hopes for sleep, first. He’s really not up for dealing with panic attacks on top of everything else right now.

 “Likewise.” Natasha carefully pulls him up, concern clear on her face. “You look like shit.”

 “Well, yeah.” He slumps into her, and she puts an protective arm around his slightly larger form - it doesn’t look like he’ll be able to do much at this point. He’s really, really glad to see her, though.

 “Thank you for your help.” Natasha tells Joyce, acknowledging her with a small nod and the hint of a smile. It’s not that she means to be rude or dismissive - quite the contrary,  she is immensely thankful for the young woman's help, but she wants to get her friend home and to medical care as soon as possible.

 About a week later, Joyce will receive a check with more 0’s than she’s ever seen at once in the mail. With it, a handwritten note with only a few words on it:

     “Thank you for helping me. Let me know if I can ever help you.”    followed by an email address - she’ll stare at it in stunned surprise, not knowing what to even think about it all but keeping the letter in a safe place.

 When they sit in the car, Natasha helps Tony with the seat belt when his bloody fingers seem to give up - grabbing anything just hurts too much at this point and he’s sluggish and exhausted.

 Then they’re on the way to the jet where the team is already waiting, and when Natasha looks at him, something dark and predatory creeps into her eyes. She doesn’t need to be told what happened - the state of Tony, his clothes, and his hands tells her everything she needs to know.

 Unfortunately, she knows exactly what it looks like when a person needs to free themselves from a buried box in the ground - it had been part of her training when she was young. She still wakes up in cold sweat when she dreams about it, decades later.

 “Who did this to you?” Natasha asks, tone carefully even.

 Tony looks over at her, heavy lidded and too worn out even for panic - he’ll have to deal with that later, but that’s okay - at least, he’ll be home or at least surrounded by friends then.

 “I don’t know their names.” he tells her truthfully. If he did, he would have told her, knowing that it would be their death sentence as soon as Natasha, or Clint for that matter, would find out who and where they are.

     They still find out later, because they’re good at this kind of stuff, and the people who are responsible for hurting Tony end up in a cold grave in the ditch somewhere.

 Tony is not entirely sure what it says about him that he feels nothing but relief at the death of three men, and the fact that he can call two of the most dangerous people in the world part of his family.

 Then again, if this kind of thing ever happened to any of them and he’d manage to get his hands on whoever did it - he, too, would be capable of cold blooded murder.

 As it is, being home and knowing the team is close makes him sleep easier at night, even when he’s still plagued with insomnia and nightmares. Only now, the horrors in his mind wear the face of a dark, tight space and the smell of dirt added to it.

 It leaves him gasping for air, clawing at his throat and panicking for hours on end.

 But the comfort of a warm and clean bed, plenty of breathable air and the occasional company of a friend next to him help more than he could ever tell them.

 He tightly holds onto them, and breathing is a whole lot easier then.

 *+~

     Square 4: Buried alive  

[merryfortune]

Day 2: New Year’s Wishes

Compendium Game Route 2019 for @vrainsrarepairweeks

Ship: Superheroshipping | Aoi/Takeru/Yusaku

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,722

Tags: Alternate Universe – Save Me! Lollipop, Polyamory, Minor or Implied Miyu/Spectre

  The past six months had gone so quick.

  From the moment that Aoi had accidentally swallowed the prized and magical Crystal Pearl required for the Magic Exam held by those of the Wizard World to assess the skills of their students, those who passed the test, therefore protecting the Pearl, became Professional Sorcerers. It was an exam which would last one hundred and eight days and Aoi thought that her escape to this absurd situation would never come but day by day, time did pass and now, Christmas was nearly here. But it was kind of scary. Since meeting Takeru and Yusaku, Aoi couldn’t wait until they were booted out of her life because of all the drama that they brought with them. From scary fellow examinees with all sorts of magical powers to other, more sinister powers above them at hand, Aoi wanted them gone. It was only in some grand twist of irony that the Crystal Pearl had fallen out of the sky and into the plate with her cake as she discussed with her friends what considered to be the ideal boyfriend.

  Someone kind, someone handsome, and above all: someone who would protect and value her above all else, someone like a prince.

  Her friends had teased her at the time, calling her unrealistic and that she had her head in the clouds and her hands on too many books on fairy tales. They sat corrected moments later when not just one but two young gentleman to Aoi’s near exact specifications literally fell out of the sky, with a beautiful, white Mustang in tow, sweeping her off her feet, and yanking her into a zany world of magic and other antics: all whilst they sped off with an humongous owl in pursuit of them.

  It had been distressing to say the least, but they did seem to tick all of Aoi’s boxes. Their primary goal in coming to Den City, the Human World in general, was to protect Aoi. Well, they wanted to protect the Crystal Pearl which now resided, all but permanently, in the pit of her stomach but to protect it, they had to protect her. Not to mention, they valued her for her.

  They were also handsome. Takeru was the glasses pretty boy type with a fit physique and Yusaku was the slovenly pretty boy type with gorgeous green eyes. Everywhere they went, they attracted all sorts of attention, some good and some bad as their good-looking faces did little to quell the fact that they had an eccentric taste in fashion, as per the custom of the Wizarding World that they hailed from.

  As an unexpected bonus, they were bonkers strong too. Magic would do that to a fella, Aoi supposed, as she watched in awe, time and time again, as Takeru blew the world around them to smithereens using his destructive Fire Magic and as she watched Yusaku minimise said damage by using his more defensive Link Magic which allowed him to conjure barriers and the like. In combination, they were easily the strongest of the Sorcerer Examinees which had been sent to Den City to hunt the Crystal Pearl.

  And best of all, they were kind too. Yusaku couldn’t stand seeing people getting hurt, so he always carried a little medical kit around with him and even if seemed like a minor stupid injury, he would take it seriously. Being the damsel in distress came with a lot of skinned knees, Aoi had discovered but Yusaku never scolded her for not doing better and he had kissed her band aids more times than either would admit.

  Though, by all those virtues, they had their vices too. Yusaku was annoyingly evasive. He never told Aoi, or even Takeru, anything. Like upon their first meeting, once they had scrambled into safety, away from the monstrous owl and the Examinees who controlled said monstrous owl, Yusaku had clammed up. He refused to divulge any information which could have potentially helped Aoi understand why exactly she had been damn near kidnapped by him and Takeru, what the Crystal Pearl was, or any other element about the situation that they had become entangled in. He only gave her said information once Takeru had blurted it all out in frustration. Even after that, Yusaku very rarely told Aoi everything that she needed to know, and again same for his partner, Takeru.

  Meanwhile, Takeru was downright brutish. He picked unnecessary fights. Where Yusaku was perhaps more level-headed, Takeru was most certainly not. He was a punch now, ask questions later type of guy.

  Yet, despite these differences, they truly did work in beautiful combination of one another. As bizarre as an afternoon as their first meeting was, from meeting them, to being separated from them, and being kidnapped by Examinees Three and Four, partners Miyu and Spectre, to being nearly killed by Miyu and Spectre to being rescued by Takeru and Yusaku, only for them to almost kill everyone via Takeru’s magic, but it all worked out eventually. It had been terrifying.

  Miyu and Spectre had taken her to the basement of some ice cream shop and had tied her up. They had gloated that Takeru and Yusaku would be unable to find her and Miyu, with some very pushy insistence unto Spectre, then rewarded herself by going to find some cake and other sweets to purchase using Spectre’s money. Something which he agonised over, especially given that Miyu did not bring back the change in favour of simply buying more than what ought to be humanly possible to eat. Though, she was kind enough to share with Aoi, and that was quite nice, all things considered, right up until she and Spectre unanimously decided that enough was enough. It was time to extract the Crystal Pearl from Aoi but any means necessary and both were a little more than ecstatic to use unsavoury and honestly rather sharp methods of extraction.

  But, fortunately, Takeru and Yusaku had made it in the nick of time. Aoi had gasped and her heart began to beat thunderously in her chest. Yusaku gathered them all around behind one of his barriers, thin as a crystal, and Takeru fought back with blasts of fire which evaporated the very moisture in the air. With Takeru’s attacks, he courageously fought off Miyu’s Summoned Beasts, her precious friends she called them, and Spectre’s Hypnosis magic whilst Yusaku gallantly defended them.

  In a smack of brilliance, Takeru had blasted off the opposing team and for that day, it seemed all good and done. Of course, that was just the first of many onslaughts that Aoi would encounter as the one who swallowed the Crystal Pearl. Some assaults, of course, coming from opposing teams of examinees; Miyu and Spectre just being one coupling. Other assaults came from within their own team. From invasions of personal privacy, such as Takeru and Yusaku joining Aoi at her own high school to them deciding the best place to live was in her closet, as modified by magic, to near kisses and compromising walk ins, as well as other spats, interpersonal bickering had proved as powerful a force as most supernatural magics around them.

  But, when it was all said and done, Aoi decided that she wouldn’t trade any of those moments in for anything else; anything normal. No matter how horrifying or humiliating the memory, Aoi cherished it. All to the point where she didn’t want Christmas to come but there wasn’t a single type of magic powerful enough to pause or reverse time, she had come to learn by spending time with Yusaku and Takeru. She had truly come to love them both but there was no place for her outside of the present.

  She had never felt more content than when she was squished between them both, and this contentment, Aoi realised, was fleeting. Another seven days and it would be all over. Christmas will have come and gone, the medicine that was required to separate the Crystal Pearl from her body would be made, and then, if things all went to plan, then Takeru and Yusaku would get their qualifications and return to their home.

  Aoi had asked Takeru about it once. About magic, about the Wizard World, about what it meant to be a professional and he loved to gush about it, unlike Yusaku. His power, magical in general, mystisfied Aoi, charmed her beyond all belief. He showed her teeny tiny tricks with his fingers and flames, showing a deft control over them which rarely reared its head in scuffles whilst he talked about how denizens of the Human World weren’t permitted in the Wizard World due to a treaty from millennia ago.

  Though, he did admit, history wasn’t his strong point. He got dates mixed up all the time and Aoi could attest to that. She, and Yusaku, have had to remind Takeru of what day it is more than a handful of times. He could be a little be doughy like that but they both found it endearing, more often than not, anyway.

  Regardless, what Takeru had said was true, as vague as it was. That was something confirmed to Aoi time and time again; by Yusaku who was coldly awkward with her, Miyu who sympathised with her, by Spectre who chastised her, by the very Magical Council which had come up with these rules all those eons ago. But Aoi wanted to have some hope that maybe things would change.

  Once Takeru and Yusaku were made to be fully fledged in their magic, maybe they could petition some changes from the inside. It seemed a little too ridiculously hopeful for Aoi, but she always seemed to have some in spades, no matter the situation. After all, she had met Takeru and Yusaku seconds after proclaiming that she wanted to fall in love with someone just like them so maybe it wasn’t all that absurd after all. She mightn’t have magic but maybe that was hers.

  Hers was to hope. To hope that by New Year’s Eve, she wouldn’t be alone after becoming so used to being one of three. To her, that sounded lovely, hand in hand, like a princess, with the two young men whom she had come to regard as her wonderful, magical knights.

[trashmagines]

A Hard Place: Dick Grayson x Female!Mutant!Reader

Request:  Hi honey :) Can I request a Dick Grayson imagine where the reader is his girlfriend but went missing years ago. Dick is looking for her everywhere thats why he ends up in Detroit. And he finds her in the asylum where she was held captive and he takes her back to the Safe House & things get weird because he still loves her & wants to be with her but kory has this thing for him?? It would Be awesome if you could do this. Thank you so much. I am a sucker for dick grayson 🙈

TrAshy Says: I too am a slut, I mean sucker for Dick Grayson (thanks to y’all. I wasn’t really into him at first but then the fanfic got me lmaooooo). Reader is telepathic. Also this is like, sort of disjointed (y’all will see what I mean) but I’m kind of okay with it???

Warnings: Non-descript abuse, swearing

Dick had found himself in a lot of various difficult situations over the years, but this was by far the worst. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he brought you back to the safe house, he just knew he needed to help you in any way he could. 

“Who is she?” Kory had asked when he’d emerged from the elevator with you unconscious in his arms. “A friend.” “Hmm.”

You were so much more than that. You were his ex-girlfriend; the woman he’d let slip away because he’d been afraid of you getting hurt due to his carelessness. You’d met one dreary night in Gotham. Dick had been out fighting crime as Robin, so when he heard your terrified scream from a nearby alleyway, he’d dropped from the sky and fought off your would-be attacker. If he believed in love at first sight, that’s the feeling he’d say he experienced when he got a real look at you. Even in your clearly disheveled state, you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He confirmed that you were okay and disappeared as quickly as he’d come, but he’d made sure you’d made it home safely by watching from the rooftops.

Several weeks after the incident, Dick still couldn’t get you off of his mind. He hadn’t gotten your name, but he clearly remembered what you looked like. With those details and the massive database in the Batcomputer, he was able to find you. He didn’t think of himself as the stalker type, so he reasoned that he just needed to have one conversation with you, as Dick instead of Robin, and he’d be able to get over you.

Oh how wrong he was.

One conversation had turned into many, then he started meeting you for coffee or dessert, until finally you were going on dates that weren’t called dates. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d fallen for you, but you weren’t the type to be strung along. You asked him what your relationship was, and after fumbling over his words, he confessed that he was basically in love with you at this point. Your relationship flourished from there, the both of you moving rather quickly. He moved in with you, a dynamic you both rapidly acclimated to. He showed you how much he loved you constantly, and you did the same; if there ever was a ‘perfect’ relationship, you guys had it. 

Dick had been accepting when you told him about your ability. Truth be told, he’d seen some crazy stuff and he’d always wondered how you seemed to know what he was thinking at all times. Unfortunately, he never told you about his vigilante life. You wondered where he went at night and why he had new bruises on his body every few days. You consistently voiced your suspicions but he would shut them down and tell you not to worry about it. He didn’t want you to know because your knowledge would make you a target for his enemies. He could never tell you that though, and this secret had eventually led to the end of your relationship. He thought he was doing the right thing by leaving before you got too close to figuring out who he was, but it destroyed both of you. 

Though you were no longer together, Dick used his connections to still keep tabs on you and make sure you were doing well for yourself. When you went missing, he was distraught and finding you became his number one priority. Years passed and he’d only been met with dry leads and dead ends thus far. You were always a constant thought in the recesses of his mind, and now on top of that he had a rag tag group of super-human people in tow that he felt responsible for. 

He thought he could have something with Kory. They were attracted to each other and she made him address aspects of himself that he’d rather not talk about. He never thought that finding you would bring back those old feelings ten-fold, that holding you in his arms again would make him fall right back in love with you. But, here he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

You woke up afraid in unfamiliar surroundings, and your screaming caused everyone to rush to you. When your eyes settled on Dick, you gasped, unsure if this was just your mind playing tricks on you as it had so many times before. 

“Y/N?”

Your name said in that familiar voice is all it takes for you to break down. You’re out of that horrible place. You’re free. 

You excuse yourself to the bathroom after Dick informs you that there’s a fresh change of clothes in there waiting. When you’re out of ear-shot, Rachel speaks up, her voice shaky at the flashes she’d seen of your time spent at the asylum. 

“I didn’t even have to touch her. She’s been through a lot. Like, a lot.” 

Days pass, and you quickly get acquainted with Rachel, Kory, and Gar. The testing you were put through while captive has disrupted your abilities, so now you hear other’s thoughts constantly. You know about everyone’s unvoiced concerns, their hidden secrets, and most interestingly, Dick’s relationship with Kory. You try to convince yourself that you’re happy he’s moved on, but in truth you’re saddened that you lost the only man you ever loved.

That is, until you hear Dick’s thoughts.

They’re all about you. Sometimes his mind is replaying memories of your old life together, sometimes it’s flooded with new worries about your well-being, and more often than not his thoughts contain an underlying tone of regret and guilt. 

He approaches you one morning when you’re making breakfast and asks how you’re adjusting. Until now you haven’t been able to get a moment alone with him, so you take the opportunity and run with it.

“You still love me.”

Dick freezes for just a second before taking a slow sip of his coffee.

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“I still love you too, you know. I never stopped, but you wouldn’t... You were keeping secrets from me and I couldn’t stand the sneaking around and the constant lies. You should have just told me, Dick.” “I wanted to. God, I wanted to. I thought I was protecting you by keeping you in the dark, but then you went missing and... I could have protected you if I’d stayed, Y/N. I should have been there.” “You need to stop blaming yourself. I wasn’t taken because of you; it was because of my ability. Someone found out what I could do, and even thought it’s not that spectacular, they went after me anyway. I was kidnapped on a regular day in broad daylight; I don’t think you could have protected me from that.” 

Your admission stings a bit, and Dick doesn’t respond. He has, however, inched closer to you as the conversation has progressed, and now all he can think about is hugging you and never letting you go. You want nothing more than for him to do that, but approaching footsteps cause you to walk away from him and Kory rounds the corner as you start setting the table. 

Kory prides herself on being observant, so she doesn’t miss the way Dick looks at you, or his tone of voice when he’s speaking to you directly. She notices that he’s softer with you, more open than he has been with the rest of the team, and although she feels a little played, she already understands that her relationship with Dick can’t come close to whatever is going on between you two.

“So, how long have you been in love with her?”

Kory is sitting on Dick’s bed; she moved into her own room they day he’d brought you back. Dick’s eyes go wide at the sudden inquiry, which admittedly sounds more like a statement than a question.

“I don’t need to be a mind reader to know that there’s something there.” 

Dick sighs and explains the history between you two; how you met, how he fucked up, how he never gave up the search for you. By the time he’s done, Kory’s sporting a small smile; this is a love story if she’s ever heard one. 

“I’m sorry, Kory. I wasn’t leading you on, I swear! It’s just that...well-” “You never stopped loving her. I feel like normally, even though I don’t much about who I am, I’d probably fight to get you to stay with me. But, in this case, I see how happy she makes you. You deserve that, Dick Grayson.” 

Weeks fly by, and although there’s a new dynamic in the safe house, everyone has adjusted well. Rachel and Gar noticed the difference between Dick and Kory’s interactions immediately, but neither of them spoke about it because it didn’t cause any problems or awkwardness between the group. You’re also getting closer to your version of normalcy every day, but nights are still the worst.

You jolt upright, your heart hammering out of your chest and sweat dripping from your brow. You look to your left and meet Dick’s anxious gaze, all but collapsing into his welcoming arms. Sobs shake your entire body as memories of what happened to you replay in your head; the only thing grounding you is Dick’s presence. He lies back when you stop crying, taking you with him and holding you as close as humanly possible. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” his question cuts through the darkness. “No.” you reply, your voice hoarse. 

You listen to Dick’s heartbeat and steady your breathing, but you won’t be able to go back to sleep tonight. You know it will take time for you to truly heal, and you’ll never forget what you went through, but as you lazily trace patterns in Dick’s side, you take solace in the fact that you won’t have to go it alone. 

[zylphiacrowley]

Tagged by @nikisaur who is a wonderful person!

1) Name/nickname: Zylphia. Z (I find it hilarious that I call myself "Zee" but a lot of people probably pronounce my nickname for myself "Zed"), Zyl, and to a guy who worked in Hot Topic in Northern Minnesota sometime in the early 00s (when Tripp pants were at the height of their popularity); "Hey you with the ears"

2) Gender: Lady

3) ⭐ sign: 100% pure uncut Gemini.

4) Height: Like 5'8/9"ish?

5) Hogwarts 🏠: Gryffindor, and I've got the haughty pride to prove it.

6) Favourite animal: Caribou! Pretty much any animal with antlers, Sheltie pup pups, foxes, black cats, any animal that looks at home in the tundra basically...

7) Hours of 💤: I average about 3-4 on work days, days off I'm dead to the world.

8) Dogs or cats: Catdog.

9) Number of blankets: As many as humanly possible.

10) Dream trip: EVERYWHERE. But if I have to narrow it down, Finland, South Korea, and somewhere green (maybe even New Zealand or like Scotland or something?) There's way too many places I want to visit. There's a lot of pretty places in this world.

11) Dream job: To either write for television or teach English as a foreign language.

12) Time: Warp? (9:34pm)

13) 🎂: June 14th

14) Favorite Bands: Florence + the Machine, Matthew and the Atlas, Imogen (and the) Heap, My god why would you make me choose?!

15) Honorable Song Mention: The entirety of Florence + the Machine's The Odyssey.

16) Song Stuck In My Head: Pray by Sam Smith

17) Last Movie I 👀: I'm not sure but I feel like Stardust would be a safe assumption. When in doubt, Stardust.

18) Last Show I 👀: American Gods (everyone knew this was coming)

19) When Did I Create My Blog: A long long time ago.... I can still remember, that music used to make me smile... And I knew if I had my chance, I could make those people dance and maybe they'd be happy for a while. (lol I don't remember when I made this blog)

20) What Do I Post/Reblog: a ton of crap.

21) Last Thing I Googled: Soft pastels vs. Chalk pastels

22) Other blogs: I have three that I never use.

23) Do I Get Asks: Ver rarely but I love it when I do. ❤️

24) Why I Choose My URL: For all intents and purposes it is my name. Except Crowley is after A.J. Crowley from Good Omens, who is one of my favorite literary characters.

25) Following: Trends.

26) Followers: Lost probably.

27) Lucky Number: 14 and 27.

28) Favorite Instrument: Cello, piano, pipe organ and anything that makes big grandios sounds (not the same thing as loud)

29) What Am I Wearing: the most comfortable pajamas pants in the world (with pockets!) from Old Navy and a tank top.

30) Favorite food: You can never go wrong with mac and cheese... unless you're lactose intolerant... which I am... Still mac and cheese though.

31) Nationality: (begrudgingly) American from the U.S.

32) Favorite Song: HAHAHAAAHAHAAAAA a lot.

33) Last 📓 Read: I think I started trying to reread the first book in The Doctrine of Labyrinths again which is called Melusine

34) Top Three Fictional Universes I’d Like To Join: That parallel dimension where everything *didnt* go tits up a year or so ago, The Kingdom of Stormhold (Stardust). Sometime in the Suikoden timeline, preferably after sea voyage was the main mode of transportation. I hate the open ocean. It's terrifying.

Do I tag three people? @ambalambs, @kibuto, @rydiaasuka? If you want to?

[forestwater87]

You know I've gotta ask about Jaspidwen

AND YOU KNOW I FUCKING LOVE YOU FOR IT! (we’ll make this ship happen I swear to Christ)

hell no | how about no | eh | kinda cute i guess | that’s adorable | omg omg yes | otp | you’re fucking kidding right i’m dying because of these two THREE

and i’ll also tell you who:

proposes

Well see, in my head Jaspid absolutely happens before Gwen; they were engaged when she met them, so I have a hard time imagining that they’d just … like, not get married. So I assume Jasper proposed to David. They’d been talking about it forever, but David’s a fucking spaz and was way too nervous to actually do it, so eventually Jasper had to summon all of his not-inconsiderable charm and make it happen. (Gwen attends the wedding. She’s … kinda their girlfriend but also kinda in a weird place about knowing if she wants in on this crazy family, so it’s a bit bittersweet for all of them. But damn if those two dumb boys aren’t adorable the day of; David cries excessively, and Jasper mostly just … bounces. Everywhere. All the time. He’s too excited to stay in one place.)

Obviously polyamory isn’t really a legal thing, so they can’t marry her even after they’re all a big cuddle puddle. And Gwen makes a very big deal about how she doesn’t like weddings, they’re a waste of time and money and she never planned on getting married anyway, but … well, she’s not as good a liar as she thinks she is. 

Which is why when Nerris, Max’s delightful girlfriend of like 4-5 years, goes out on a shopping trip with Gwen (they’re close. They’re the only girls in the family, they have to be close) and she points out a cute little knee-length dress and says wistfully that she would’ve worn something like that if she’d ever gotten married, Nerris immediately talks her into buying it and gives Max a heart attack by texting him “we have to talk.”

What they have to talk about, of course, is weddings. (This is Max’s second heart attack, because he thinks she’s proposing. It takes a few minutes to drag him back from the brink of terror.) It’s a whole big surprise thing – which Max insists is a terrible idea because Gwen hates surprises, but Jasper’s caught up in the scheming and David’s too much of a romantic to let the idea die. Of course, Jasper’s ideas are all kind of terrible — he has the most aggressively bad taste and will sacrifice sincerity for a joke 8 times out of 10 — and David’s are unrealistic (“No, Dad, we can’t have doves fly out from under everyone’s chairs because then they’d poop on everything. And we’re not hiring Harrison just for a stupid dove trick!”), which means that Max and Nerris do the vast majority of the planning, being the only practical adults in the room.

Nerris talks Gwen into wearing her pretty white dress and having a girl’s day, and when they arrive at this dinky little community center that’s all but closed down, Gwen gets “married” to the two dorks she’s been dating for well over half a decade.

She tells them they’re all idiots, and absolutely does not cry. (Nope, not even if you look close, get out of her face especially with that fucking camera, Max!) There’s a lot of dancing, even more drinking. All the campers show up, which is both embarrassing and extremely sweet. 

Speaking of … all three of them get spectacularly drunk, and are a combination of embarrassing and extremely sweet. Max and Nerris become designated babysitters.

(I hope I got all this right; @hopefullypessimistic84 and I came up with this idea approximately 2 million years ago and it’s hard to remember all the details. I just remember it being very cheesy in the best way.)

shops for groceries

Jasper! David insists on coming along so he can sneak junk food into the cart, and Gwen insists on staying home because she’s not refereeing that fucking battle every goddamn week, for Christ’s sake. Besides, it’s the only time they’re all out of the house so she can enjoy her trash TV in peace.

kills the spiders

Jasper’s too afraid to go near them, and so usually it’s David having to rescue them from Gwen, who’s merciless. He has to scramble to get it safely outside before she gets there because she has zero patience for the things and will make them very very Dead.

comes home drunk at 3am

I … don’t know, honestly? I mean, Gwen definitely used to do that, but I feel like she’d be very over that scene by the time she gets with her boys. Jasper would probably enjoy it every now and then, and I’m sure he could talk Gwen into it. And where they go … David will of course follow. So I’d say if they do it it’s all 3 of them, they make a total mess of themselves, and swear never to do it again. It’s like an annual thing, if that. Not frequent.

makes breakfast

Jasper! He’s the only one who’s willing to put in that kinda effort.

remembers to feed the fish

David, hands down. He also sings to them every morning and tells them how pretty their scales are. Gwen can’t remember their names, and neither can Jasper but he refuses to admit it so he just makes up ridiculous nicknames for them.

decorates the apartment

It’s a David-Jasper tag team affair. David makes it look like it belongs to an 80-year-old woman, and Jasper adds hideously tacky ornaments at every available opportunity.

initiates duets

Jasper will sing whether you want him to or not. Especially if you don’t want him to. He can usually rope David into singing with him, but Gwen only sings when she’s confident no one can hear her.

falls asleep first

Huh … probably Gwen? I think Hope and I headcanon both Jasper and David as having insomnia to a degree, so Jasper tends to stay up watching cartoons until he’s comatose and David … usually just lies awake in bed and looks out the window, thinking.

sends the most selfies

I think this must be a close race. Jasper sends really ridiculous ones, Gwen likes the validation that she’s hot so she sends them whenever she’s feeling either confident or insecure, and David … actually, now that I think of it I imagine David’s less likely to take pictures of himself than of random things he finds pretty, so while he texts as many pictures, they aren’t selfies very often, more like “look at this flower!” and “this duck reminds me of you!”

makes the first move

Depends what the move is. If it’s a serious conversation or important moment, it’s probably Jasper who’s brave enough to initiate (Gwen would just avoid it for as long as humanly possible, and David would flutter anxiously, start to bring it up about 17 times, and then give up and deflate into a puddle of sad man). Something heartwarming and “let’s talk about our feelings!” is all David – especially if it’s not his feelings they’re talking about. Sex? That’s Gwen all the way. In terms of romantic gestures like going on dates or whatever, it probably varies based on who gets the idea – though Gwen usually likes to pass the responsibility of actually coming up with plans onto one of the others, because she hates the pressure to have it go well.

plans spontaneous trips

Oooh, David. He loves surprises and spontaneity and fun! Gwen’s the most likely to shoot him down, and Jasper’s probably the one who’s both creative and practical enough to find some sort of middle ground, that halfway gets what David had planned without completely destroying their bank accounts/personal lives/sanity.

[family-business-one-shots]

Hunter’s Helper

Relationship: Sam X Daughter, Dean X Niece!Reader

Words: 2,562

Summary: After a devastating loss, the Reader turns to alcohol to help with the pain.

Warnings: substance abuse, alcohol abuse, underage drinking, mentions of suicide, depression, mention of alcohol-related death, mild swearing, mentions of vomit/vomiting, angst

Tagging: @mysaintsasinner @beholders-chroniclers @deathtonormalcy56 @sis-tafics @winchesters-favorite-girl @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @alexandriajanae4 @27bmm

A/N: I’m back! Sorry this took so long, the ending just would not let itself get written. This is for two challenges. The first is @letsgetoutalive‘s Mental Health Awareness Challenge, and my prompt was substance abuse (I really hope I did it justice. I researched it but I have no actual experience with this, so if anything is wrong let me know). The second was @nichelle-my-belle‘s 4K Angst Challenge, and my prompt for that one was “Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age?” Enjoy!

“You stupid bastard! How could you? You were-- I-- God!” Voice hoarse from screaming, you knelt in front of his grave, moisture soaking through the knees of your jeans. Your fingers skimmed the engravings in the marble stone as tears fell, racing down your cheeks as if there would be a prize for first place. “I'm all alone now, you asshole! And it's all your fault!”

Cautiously, Sam approached you and gently took your hand, his heart breaking at your pain. You looked up at him, eyes puffy and red, and allowed yourself to be pulled up until you were standing. Wrapping his arms around you, your dad hugged you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head, and you let it happen, let yourself bury your face in his chest and dissolve into a fresh wave of tears.

“Shh, it's okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, rubbing circles on your back. “It's gonna be okay.”

But he was wrong. It wasn't going to be okay, you were never going to be okay.

Because how can you be okay, how can you possibly go on with your life, when your best friend takes his own?

In the days following Jackie’s death, you were a wreck. Numb, mind clouded with darkness, even getting out of bed was a difficult task to accomplish. You slept for hours all day, hardly ever coming out of your room. Your uncle stopped in every once in awhile to check on you and try to talk, but you never responded. What was the point? Talking about what had happened wouldn't bring Jackie back. Nothing would.

Your dad, god bless him, was at your side the whole time, trying to help you, trying his damndest to coax you out of the shell you'd created. He didn't force you to go back to school, knowing you would want to go back of your own choice, and you were so grateful.

By the end of the second week, however, Sam realized that he needed to quit being your friend and start being your father again.

“Hey, kiddo?” he called from the doorway of your room. He heard of a grunt of acknowledgement come from the lump of blankets on the bed, and took it as an invitation to enter. Carefully, he sat down next to you on the bed, his hand on your back. “Listen, I know you're still upset and grieving, and you’re allowed to, you wouldn't be human if you didn't… But at some point, you are going to need to try and go back to school.” Somewhere up by the pillows, a whimper escaped from the blanket wall. “I know you don't want to, but there are only so many days you can miss. You've already been out for two weeks. That's gonna be a lot of make up work.”

He sighed. “I won't lie, it's not gonna be easy. It's probably gonna hurt like a bitch. I have a lot of faith in you, though. You're a strong kid, you'll make it through this. Just… promise me you'll at least try?”

Muffled through the blankets, your response was so quiet. “Promise, daddy.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Y/N.”

“Where have you been, Y/N? You missed a lot of school.”

“Y/N, I'm so sorry.”

Everywhere you went, the condolences followed, clinging to you like a wet shirt. It bothered you, pissed you off, even. You didn't want these people’s “I'm sorry”s, you wanted them to leave you alone. If Jackie had been there, he would have told them off for you. But he wasn't.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Looking up from your textbook, you saw a girl standing in front of your desk, most likely another junior. Her face, round and covered in freckles, was unfamiliar to you, but she seemed nice enough.

“I know you’re probably sick of everybody talking to you today,” she said; you scoffed -- finally, someone understood. “But, uh, me and a few of my friends are all hanging out together Friday night, and we wanted to know if you’d like to join us. We figure you could use a bit of a distraction. It’s okay if you’d rather not, though.”

For a minute, you were silent, thinking. As much as the idea made you want to vomit, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that it would be good for you to finally get out of the bunker, and not just for school.

Besides, it was what Jackie would want you to do.

“I’d love to,” you said, speaking for the first time that day.

The girl grinned. “Great!”

All of a sudden, for the first time since everything happened, you could sense yourself beginning to feel happy. And it made you smile.

The rest of the week passed by in lurches. By the time Friday came, you were actually… excited. When you told your dad you were going out, he was beyond thrilled, as was your uncle. They were so proud of you for picking yourself up.

“Y/N!” a voice called. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the girl -- Missy -- and her friends standing by the entrance to the house waving you over, and you walked to them. With a forceful shove, you pushed away the feelings of apprehension that bubbled to the forefront of your mind, and tried to at least enjoy yourself, just a little bit.

About two hours into the small get together was when it happened.

Beforehand, it was quite pleasant. You’d mingled with Missy’s friends, made small talk. Everyone, even if they didn’t know you, was nice, respectful. They didn’t push you to talk about yourself; half of them probably only wanted you to listen to them talk anyway.

Then, just as things started to get to be a little too much, a little too overwhelming, someone offered you a drink. Deciding to accept it rather than seem rude, you thought nothing of it until you caught a whiff of it. Alcohol -- whiskey, to be exact.

After everything was said and done, you would wonder what made you do it. Maybe it was because of Jackie and his suicide, maybe it was because you were all alone in the world now. Hell, maybe it was just because you needed something to numb the pain.

Whatever the reason, when you took that first sip and felt it burn down your throat, it felt good. So damn good. When you'd finished the whole cup, you didn't even realize at first, too caught up in how free it made you feel -- free from the numbness, free from the pain.

You wanted more.

You needed more.

For nearly two months after that night, you jumped at any chance to have another drink. You started going out more, partying and drinking until the wee hours of the morning, when you would curl up in the bathroom and puke your guts out. During school, you would carry a water bottle around filled with vodka, just so you could have that beautiful pain-numbing feeling everywhere you went.

The past few days had been spent blessedly numb since your dad and uncle were out of town on a hunt, leaving you at home in the bunker. Alone. With no one to tell you what you could and couldn't do.

As soon as you walked in the door, you dropped your backpack on the landing and threw your coat over the railing. Taking two steps at a time, you hurried down the stairs and practically ran for the kitchen.

When you got there, you pulled the refrigerator door open, trying to decide what to drink. Whiskey? Bourbon? There were endless possibilities thanks to your uncle’s love of alcohol. Eventually, you settled on plain old beer, wanting some variety. Reaching past the leftovers, you grabbed the six-pack and pulled out one of the bottles. Beer in one hand, the other went searching through the drawers for a bottle opener, which of course you found in the last cabinet you checked.

Suddenly, you heard the giant steel door open, followed by two pairs of footsteps descending down the metal staircase. Your father’s voice called out, echoing through the hallways. “Y/N, we're back!”

Silent curses flying from your lips, you scrambled around the room, hastily shoving the bottle opener back into the drawer as quietly as humanly possible. Throwing the fridge door open so hard it teetered on its edges, you quickly replaced the beer bottle in the six-pack and slammed the refrigerator shut before almost diving into one of the chairs at the table.

“In the kitchen, dad!”

Not a minute later, Sam came sauntering into the room, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, adulto,” you greeted, hoping he couldn't hear your slightly labored breathing.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Nothing. Just hanging out before I start my homework.” Noticing his unexpected arrival, you tilted your head, much like your Uncle Cas would. “You're home early.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Turns out there were some other hunters in the area that were able to help us out, so we finished up a lot quicker than we expected. Any troubles here?”

“Nope. I’ve just been chilling in the kitchen.”

“All right,” Sam said. He shifted the weight on his shoulders, looking like he was going to leave, but then hesitated. Meeting your eyes, a smile ghosted his lips. “Listen, I just wanted to say that… I’m really proud of you. I know the past few months haven’t been easy, but for the most part you’ve kept your head on straight, and not many people would be able to do that. So, I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You're doing good.”

Guilt came crashing down on you like a wave, threatening to swallow you whole. Your dad -- your hero, the one person in the whole world you admired the most -- was proud of you for a lie. Meanwhile, your grades in school were slipping dangerously low, you couldn't get through the day now without a little hunter’s helper, and your life was balancing precariously on the line between held together and total collapse.

Throat burning with tears you refused to let fall, you smiled ruefully. “Thanks, dad.”

A happy sigh on his lips, Sam walked over and kissed the top of your head, leaving the room with a grin plastered on his face, so full of love for his beautiful, strong daughter.

That night, after he and Dean had already gone to bed, you snuck a bottle of some of your uncle’s hard liquor into your room and drank yourself into a shame-filled sleep.

By the time Sam and Dean found out about your little alcohol problem, it was all but too late.

You’d been drinking every day for weeks, downing as many as five or six in one day, almost addicted to the delicious burn of whiskey, the smooth silkiness of Bailey’s Irish Cream, the smoky taste of bourbon. School became optional -- you started cutting class, choosing instead to get blackout drunk behind the building while the druggies shot up beside you.

With your impaired judgement, you decided one day that it would be a great idea to skip class and go home. Of course, in your alcohol-addled mind, the thought never occurred to you that your uncle was there at that very moment.

You arrived at the bunker on foot, drink sloshing around in your unsteady hand. After three tries, you finally figured out how to open the door, slamming it shut behind yourself. Stumbling down the stairs, you missed Dean’s confused expression at your sudden appearance.

“Y/N?” he called. “What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?”

“Shhh, s’okay. S’all okay,” you told him, draping yourself across one of the chairs around the table in the war room. As you lifted your drink to take another swig, Dean snatched it out of your hand, eliciting a whine from you.

Taking a sniff, he recoiled. “Is this alcohol?” He looked at you incredulously. “Are you-- are you drunk?

“Yeah,” you said, still pouting. “So?”

“So?” Dean asked. “Why the hell are you drunk? And for that matter, why are you even drinking?”

“Doesn't matter,” you mumbled.

If his eyes could have grown any bigger, they would have popped right out of his skull. “It doesn’t matter? Of course it damn well matters!”

“Don’ worry,” you slurred, too inebriated to realize you were only making the situation much worse. “‘M fine.”

“You’re not fine!” your uncle screamed, his anger increasing. “You’re 17, dammit! You shouldn’t be getting drunk off your friggin’ ass, Y/N!”

Growing aggravated by the interrogation and your inability to fall back on the alcohol as a crutch, you hissed at him. “Wha’ are you gonn’ do about it? You’re not my dad.”

“But I am.”

Sam walked into the room from where he’d been standing in the hallway, heart heavy. You felt resentment rise within you at the sight of him, though for what you had no idea.

“You gonn’ send me to my room?” you said with disgust. Snarling, you spat at him. “Screw you.”

Eyes wide, your dad looked a puppy who’d been kicked one too many times. It should have hurt you, should have affected you more than it did, but you were too far gone into the bliss of the alcohol to care.

They tried. Oh, how they tried. Your father and uncle did everything they could to assist you in getting sober, in getting your life back to normal; you, however, resisted. Vehemently denying their attempts to help, you continued to drink well into the ensuing weeks. You refused to participate in any of the recovery activities at the rehab center they sent you to, still believing yourself to be perfectly fine.

No matter what anyone said, you wouldn’t stop. Even when the doctors raised the increasing possibility of death, you dismissed them.

Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age? they would ask you.

Not at all, you would respond.

Then, everything changed one day with four little words.

“What would Jackie think?”

And with that, your whole attitude flipped like a light switch. The thought of Jackie, your best friend and other half, being upset with you, disappointed in you, filled you with shame, and renewed your spirit to fight back against your own mind.

At first, it was a grueling process. After drinking for so long and becoming dependent on the alcohol, your body did not adjust well to a lack of it. If you weren’t running a fever, you had to deal with the muscle tremors and headaches, or the horrible anxiety you developed. Your depression also increased to the point where even your dad wanted to find an alternative solution, but you stuck it out. You wanted to make Jackie proud.

Nearly four months later, despite a few minor setbacks, you finished your inpatient treatment at the rehab center. Now, instead of turning to booze to fix your problems, you knew you had a support system that you could turn to if you needed anything.

The remaining road to recovery was going to be long and challenging, you had no doubt, but you were ready for it. You were ready for anything.

[itsnotsammy]

{ Burial at Sea }

He couldn't understand how things had happened so fast.

It almost felt like a bad, really bad dream. But it was real, and it was painful, and there was no way Sam could change things - no matter how much he wanted to. Dean was gone for good.

He just didn't expect to stumble on a door that led right into a city - in the bottom of the ocean. Because Men of Letters obviously didn't know how to catalog their dangerous shit properly.

Words: 2,300

Chapters: 1/?

Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural; Bioshock

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Violence; Rape/Non-Con

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dean Winchester; Sam Winchester; Castiel; Mary Winchester; Atlas (BioShock); Big Daddy (BioShock); Little Sister; Andrew Ryan; Brigid Tenenbaum; Frank Fontaine; Jack (BioShock)

Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Crossover; Rapture (Bioshock); Season 12 AU; Time Travel; Pre-Season/Series 12; Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con; Minor Character Death; Implied/Referenced Torture; Pre 1958 New Year's Eve Riot; Splicers - Freeform; Plasmids; Explicit Language; Alternative Universe; Wincest;  Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Tagging: @stanfordwincest

read it on Ao3

For the first time in all those years living in there, the silence filling the bunker felt heavy, oppressive. An almost physical reminder that he was, once more, completely alone. Sure, he knew Castiel was still there, still trying to make him feel any better because there was no way the angel would leave his side after everything they've been through, even after all the mistakes and sins they both had commited in the name of 'greater good'. They were some twisted kind of family now, if he cared to remember. They had no one but each other now. Heaven had abandoned Cass. Dean was gone, just as dad and mom and... He sucked in a harsh breath, trying to focus on anything but the burning pain on his chest - but honestly, Sam almost had lost the little self control he had the moment he stepped into the hideout, because nothing else could make Dean's absence so clear than the empty place they were just getting used to call 'home'.

But he had a vague idea of how crushed, how miserable and broken beyond repair he'd feel the moment he looked at the Impala again after the shock had dispersed from his tired brain.

And there was Cass talking, trying to break the silence but it just made the Winchester feel even more at egde. He didn't want to talk right now. He didn't need to, in fact. All he needed in that very moment was a few bottles of the strongest alcohol he could find and then he'd just drown himself in self loathing and pity for some hours... or days, at least. That sounded like a very good plan, yes sir.

"Cass, listen-" Sam finally said, cutting whatever emotional crap the angel was trying to say. He really wasn't in the right mood for that, for anything concerning Dean and his death. Because obviously his brother had to play the great hero, because Dean had to save the fucking world again and... he took another deep breath, pushing those thoughts away as quickly as they had slipped into his mind, ignoring the little voice in his head just telling him what he had known for years now. Your fault it's your fault he's dead because of you again- "I know you're trying to help and all, but... not now, okay?"

"Dean asked me to look after you." Castiel said simply, yet there was something hidden in his voice, some kind of disguised pain he had never heard before, that prevented the Winchester from punching him in the face- no matter how much he wanted to do exactly that.

"I know. But I need some time alone."

And for a brief moment he felt some part of his stupid, tired brain scoff at that pathetic excuse of a lie, another one to add to his huge pile of countless lies he had gathered throughout the years, but Castiel didn't comment on it nor tried to change his mind. Sam didn't even try to hold the sigh of relief that escaped his lips as he smiled weakly at the old friend, finally reaching the library. What a foreign feeling it was, that one of not having Dean around once more, of being on his own again. And it was for good this time, a part of him decided to remember bitterly. No coming back from Heaven, Hell or Purgatory. Dean was gone, and there was no coming back now. How could've he ever agreed with that? But again, they didn't have many choices to begin with. Sam had sealed their fate the moment he decided to set Amara free.

The memory sent a bitter, poisonous taste up his throat and he forced himself not to choke on the wave of pure guilt that assailed him.

"I could..." The Winchester heard Castiel talking again, his tone careful as if he didn't know what to do around Sam. Funny, because not even the hunter knew what to do around himself now. "Go back to field. Check if there's any trail of Lucifer around. It's almost certain that Amara... ended him, but we have to be 100% sure. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

No, I won't. "Of course, Cass. You've got a good plan."

Sam didn't mention the fact that his new plan was to drink himself into a probable coma. Castiel could always give him a lecture later but man, was he decided to empty the bunker's entire alcohol stock in that single night if it was be humanly possible. He just wanted to forget that Dean was dead. He wanted to forget all the lies he had said and all the pain he had caused because he was so damn tired of screwing everything up. Of being a real screw up, a monster - just like Dean had called him before. And looking back at everything he had done, all the damage he had caused in the name of a brother he had killed, how could someone call him anything but a monster? How could he dare to call himself human yet, when it was more than obvious he had crossed the human line a long time ago?

A shuddered sigh, something so pathetic that almost sounded like a broken sob, echoed on the library before Sam had enough time to understand it was just him making such miserable noises. Fortunately he was alone again, and he couldn't be more glad that Castiel wasn't around - because some part of his useless mind was still trying to preserve whatever little dignity was left on him. The other part simply didn't give a fuck about anything happening around him in that moment. It was just so hard to understand Dean wasn't coming back anymore. It shouldn't be like this. And the hunter decided to move into the kitchen before he got too lost on his depressing thoughts. Better drown himself in self pity while he was downright drunk.

Never before the bunker looked so overwhelming. The silence, the emptiness, the guilt gnawing at his very insides... it was just too much. His feet, however, decided to move against his will and he just noticed something was wrong the moment his fingers curled around the doorknob of the room that once belonged to Dean. Honestly, it'd bring him only memories and scents and... everything he wanted to forget at once. Yet the Winchester caught himself turning the knob and pushing the door open, looking at the empty room that he'd never dare to step in again. Sam swallowed back the huge, uncomfortable knot stuck in his throat, trying not to break down right there and right now.

He should remember that maybe Lucifer was still out there, wreaking havoc, that there was no guarantee Amara had killed him for good. They've never been that lucky. If the fallen angel was still walking on Earth, they had to find a way to kick the devil's ass back to Hell as soon as possible, and they couldn't do it if Sam wasn't in his best shape. There'll always be time to mourn later, Dean would've said. Not that Sam was good at following his older brother's advices, had never been. So he closed the door, pretended not to feel the hot tears streaming down his face shamelessly and finally forced himself to go the kitchen. Everything was on the exact spot Dean had left them (Dean's kitchen, it's always been his, not Sam's) and hell, the younger Winchester felt like never touching any of those things, just as he'd do with his brother's room.

The only thing that wouldn't be safe from his trembling hands was the liquor cabinet, and he found it a bit too quickly. He got drunk a bit too quickly, too. Not that it really mattered.

That's the whole point, Sam thought.

Clinging at his third (or maybe it was fourth, but he couldn't really tell) bottle of scotch, he decided to move somewhere way more comfortable than the kitchen's cold floor. His hands still trembled, and for a moment his legs refused to sustain his entire weight but he finally stood up, breathing slowly through tears. It was pathethic, he knew - but he couldn't help it. Dean was just gone and there was nothing to do. No deal would ever bring him back, and God had just... left again. How was he supposed to deal with it? What was he supposed to do now? And then, just like that, the first notes of an old fashioned tune started echoing on the empty Bunker. Sam frowned, head moving towards the noise. Maybe he was drunker than he had thought. That would be a good explanation. For a second, he wondered if smacking his head against the closest wall would help him to pass out right there- and the tune melted into some happier, louder song.

"What the... Cass?"

No answer. He shouldn't be as surprised as he felt.

His hand flew to the gun on his pocket, the bottle long forgotten on the table. Someone had just entered the Bunker and how was it even possible? No one else had the key, Dean was dead, Cass wasn't around... and he was drunk. Oh well. As if he had anything else to lose. The Winchester half sobbed, half laughed and finally decided to throw all caution out of the window. If something was there to end him, so be it. He followed the song slowly, moving down through a corridor they almost didn't use for all those years they'd been living in the Bunker. There were locked rooms everywhere around that place, keys nowhere to be found, and those which were open only held countless dangerous items the Men of Letters had collected in their time. Maybe something had just escaped a box. It wouldn't be the first time, really... wouldn't be that hard to put it back, too. A soft, frustrated sigh left his lips as he located the room he had been looking for. One of those damned locked doors.

"Of course."

Because he couldn't have some few hours of peace of mind.

Even so, he grabbed the doorknob just to give it a try, just to be sure anything would leave the room anytime soon- and to his surprise, it trummed under his fingers with pure power, unsettling and agonizing. Before he could step away the door slid open easily, as if it'd never been locked for the past 60 years or so. The music was louder and the words were clearer now, and for a few seconds Sam swore he had heard a couple of different voices, laughing and chatting as if it was completely normal. His eyes scanned the entire door, filled with ancient symbols he didn't recognize. Old, powerful magic, maybe. Something Rowena could talk about, if he felt like asking. Maybe he should... It was time to go back and check. Even so, no matter what he did, his fingers refused to let go of the doorknob, and the hunter felt his breath hitching in blind, stupid, drunk panic. What in heaven's name was going on now? He finally released the cursed thing, and just when he believed he had managed to step away of the magical door, the noises and voices engulfed him completely. Pure dread filled his entire, tall body at the sudden change.

For a long, painful second, Sam closed his eyes and forced not to listen. It was just a trick. He was too drunk, his mind was spinning and he just needed a long night of sleep and everything would be okay-

A loud, creepy laughter echoed right at his side and he jumped away as if Lucifer was right in front of him once more, heart beating too fast against his ribcage as his eyes fell on some kind of vending machine with a damned clown painted all over the thing. His breath got stuck on his throat as he stepped back, as far as he could from the cursed thing- and then felt himself hitting something, someone. He turned slowly, hands pocketing the gun long before his mind followed his movements. It was just too much to comprehend, too much-

"Hey! You okay, pal?" He had stumbled on a man. He was small, with a friendly, almost concerned face. His clothes, though... it seemed the kind of clothing his grandfather would've used during his adulthood. Too outdated. Sam simply gulped back whatever words dancing on his tongue, not trusting himself to say anything at that point. He needed to find out what the hell was going on, find a way back home and... "You look like you've seen a ghost or somethin'."

"I... S-something, I guess."

"You new around here, huh? Never seen your face before." The man just laughed, and the Winchester could do nothing but nod. He had no idea where 'here' was. He needed to think clearly, to pull a plan out of his pockets just like any other normal hunt and that'd be it. He'd be home sooner than later, he knew it. "I know how it feels. Livin' in a freakin' city at the bottom of ocean makes us all a little shaky at first."

Wait, what?

"What?"

But the man just patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture and left without another word.

Hazel eyes fixated on a newspaper vendor resting at the right side of the creepy machine, and he approached it too fast.

Rapture Tribune. December 02, 1958.

Later, he'd blame all the liquor he had drunk for passing out in that right moment.

[furiousconnoisseurcomputer-blog]

How do I tell my over protective parents I want to move out?

"How do I tell my over protective parents I want to move out?

So I'm 18 and I really want to move out, I have for a long time but the problem is my parents try to control everything I do. I know they want what's best for me but they're just pushing me away by telling me how to live my life. I'm just sick of living at home..my mom never lets me talk, everytime I try to say something to her she says I'm talking back and everytime I try to talk to her about something she flips out. She has a terrible temper and when she goes off it's really scary. She found out I had sex a while ago and she really freaked out and called me a *****, yet she wants to keep the communication open I don't want to talk to her about anything because I feel like she will blow up on me.   I have no clue how I'm going to tell my parents I want to move out"",I recommend one to try this web site where you  can compare quotes from different companies:""

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doing a project in Personal finance...could someone help me out?

How likely is it that my car insurance will go up due to this?

Haven't had a claim in over ten years Haven't gotten a ticket in probably 5 years. But, the neighbor kid did $2K worth of damage to my car with his bike in three separate incidents. Basically, half of it will have to be repainted! I'd really, really rather not go to court. His insurance is NOT an option in this case. He doesn't have $2,000 laying around. IF I go the much easier route of getting him to pay at least my deductible, how likely is State Farm to raise my rates with a, after deductible, claim of about $1500 or so? Any relevant advice/comment is appreciated.""

Is buying a sports car going to completely destroy my insurance rates?

Quick run down - I am 22, I work full time, go to school part time, I've had multiple tickets on my record but they were all 2-3 years ago and I will refinance my insurance to deal with that later. Currently I drive a '98 Toyota Corolla and my insurance is $3000 a year (tickets). I am planning on buying a Mazda RX-8 coupe this summer. Will this completely murder my insurance costs? I have Allstate. How much would this really affect my insurance, given my situation. Roughly?""

Unemployment Insurance Question?

I was sent an approval letter in the mail from the Nashville Unemployment Claims Center. They had already called my last employer and confirmed that I was let go due to lack of work. I have been trying to contact them via the phone for the past week and a half during different times throughout the day in order to establish a PIN. Every time I do, I get the same message of due to extremely high call volume, we cannot take your call at this time. Several friends suggested going to the local career center and ask about it there. The local career center told me that they now have extremely limited access to unemployment claims and to contact the Nashville claims center. I sent them an email as a last ditch effort to contact them a few days ago and have yet to receive a reply. Any suggestions?""

""If I buy a car off someone, how do I put insurance on it immediately?""

This would be my first car purchase and so I don't have an insurance agent. Would I need to look up a company, let them know I'm about to buy a car, then later call them back with the VIN?""

Looking for AFFORDABLE individual medical insurance plan?

Is there anyone one here from Minnesota who can recommend a decent relatively inexpensive family medical insurance plan? 2 adults and 3 children. They can't afford 800 bucks a month for a plan with a 5000 buck deductible or 700 for a 7000 deductible. He makes too much for medical assistance or Minnesota Care or Medicaid...just a little too much, and he isn't eligible for medical coverage through his employer. Please help!!!! Anyone ever hear of Land's Health???""

Insurance?

isnt an insurance company suppose to cover your car regradless the person driving it? well my boyfriend was driving my car-just bought-brand new car- and got into an accident. Now my insurance company denied my claim cause they say he wasnt under the insurance. but should my car be cover regradless if the person driving wasnt? I mean I pay monthly payments and then they are just gonna deny me after an accident. could anyone help me? any advice?

Whats the cheapest car insurance for full coverage?

Whats the cheapest car insurance for full coverage?

Where can i get cheap car insurance?

I keep trying to find a cheap car insurance as a new driver but the cheapest I get is bloody 3000 pounds .

How do people with preexisting conditions get affordable health insurance in America?

How do people with preexisting conditions get affordable health insurance in America?

Pregnant with no health insurance?

I just moved from Washington to Massachusetts. I don't have Massachusetts health insurance and I'm now 4 weeks pregnant. I don't have a job right now since I just moved, but I'm trying to get one I can do throughout my pregnancy. I'm 17 and all of my family is in Washington. My first priority right now is getting health insurance so I can make sure my baby is healthy. I've been trying to do some research but have no idea where to begin. I want to know if anyone knows how a pregnant teenager can get affordable health insurance in Massachusetts. Or if it would be possible to get on my boyfriend's health insurance plan.""

What is the average cost of car insurance for an 18 year old female in California?

What is the average cost of car insurance for an 18 year old female in California?

The Federal Government Insurance Plan?

If the federal Government has an insurance plan and we pay for it,where is it taken from I mean what tax pays and how much do we pay. and where is the plan located so I can see what there plan is.""

Full coverage insurance for peregnant women?

I live under visa here in the u.s,,, I've heard there is a very good health insurance for peregnant women in Oklahama state coveraging all the health problem for free its website is: www.mysoonercare.org I dont live in Oklahama and I need to know if there is anything like that in other state in the U.S ????""

If a car is red does it cost more on a persons insurance?

a Friend is looking 2 but a car she is 19 and she wants a red car will it cost more to be on her on her mothers insurance

How much more is sr22?

great now i have to have sr22 for driving someone else's car that had no insurance. how ever i do have insurance and judge says i must pay sr22. i am just wondering how much i have to pay extra? i am with gieco. i am thinking an extra 50 bucks.

How do I tell my over protective parents I want to move out?

So I'm 18 and I really want to move out, I have for a long time but the problem is my parents try to control everything I do. I know they want what's best for me but they're just pushing me away by telling me how to live my life. I'm just sick of living at home..my mom never lets me talk, everytime I try to say something to her she says I'm talking back and everytime I try to talk to her about something she flips out. She has a terrible temper and when she goes off it's really scary. She found out I had sex a while ago and she really freaked out and called me a *****, yet she wants to keep the communication open I don't want to talk to her about anything because I feel like she will blow up on me.   I have no clue how I'm going to tell my parents I want to move out"",I recommend one to try this web site where you  can compare quotes from different companies:""

Charged with impaired and insurance (CANADA)?

I was charged with impaired driving when i was 21. I fought it in court and it did nothing but make me spend lots of money and drag things out even more. Now i am 24 and get my full license back at the end of this month. I have had my license for the last year but with the interlock ignition condition on it. Not being able to afford the ignition interlock i decided to not drive. I am seeking advice from a insurance broker or somebody who has been charged with impaired and has gone through this. ON average what do you think i will be paying for insurance? Do you have any suggestions to make? I have a feeling i wont be able to afford it and will still take public transportation but i am curious. Please only answer if you have dealt with this situation

NO Car insurance! Will i get 6 points?

I was a named driver on my Dad's insurance, he had not paid one of the instalments for the insurance but did know! I was driving the car when i got pulled over. I did not no i had no insurance as i did not deal with the payments. Will i still get 6 points as i need my licence to get to university :(""

Will you encourage health insurance to be sold across state lines?

I can buy car insurance anywhere but not health insurance. Why? If competition brings down prices then selling health insurance across state lines should bring prices down. I have not heard any candidate mention this.

How much is for insurance for 18 year old people and for a used car?also do u pay each month or 6 month?

How much is for insurance for 18 year old people and for a used car?also do u pay each month or 6 month?

Where is the cheapest place in Nashville to get renter's insurance?

Anyone know of a good company or individual that offers inexpensive renter's insurance in Nashville, TN? Also, is the fee a one time fee for the entire year? or is it a monthly fee? Lastly, if you could give me an idea of prices for renter's insurance for a 1-2 bedroom apartment, that would be helpful too! thanks!""

Looking for health Insurance?

I'm looking for affordable health insurance with good coverage and options for doctors. A PPO is okay but I'm looking for quality AND affordability. Dental and vision would be a great plus. Can anybody out there help me!?! http:// pilih .cn /health-insurance.html

How much do you pay for home insurance?

So we are paying like $132 for car insurance on two vehicles with American Family Insurance and we both have clean records although we are young 22 (f) and 24 (m). We just got a quote from Wawanesa they said we could do full coverage through them for half the price 80 a month! Although they don't do home insurance and I know you can save a lot by combining the two. So now through AFI we pay about $40 a month for home insurance is that a good price with the combined home and auto?? How much do you think it will go up if we cancel the car insurance and go with wawanesa?? Is there cheaper insurance agencies that will cover only home? In the end I am just looking for how much you pay and if you combine your auto with the same company. Thanks!!

Where can I check and insurance company's ratings?

I am shopping for life insurance. Where can I check out an insurance companies ratings and credit ratings? I am thinking about the following companies: Northwestern Mutual State Farm Stifel Nicolaus ING New York Life TIA

How much is motorcycle insurance?

im about to turn 18 and im planing to get a sport bike but i want to know how much the insurance will cost me

""I need cheap car insurance, which company would be best?

I'm a freshman in college getting a car and I have a tight budget. Please help.

Can a person get medicare Insurance at 62 years old? What are the options?

I work with a guy who can retire this year because he will be 62 years old. And although he has a good retirement pension plan. He tells me the drawback is that he will not be eligible for medicare until he is 65 so he will probably have to work until then. Because of this I being much younger will more then likely will get a pink slip this year and be looking for work. This guy has way more seniority . Does this man have any affordable options? He really wants to retire.

How can i get cheap insurance?

Im 17 and i live in London. I just go my Licence and i have a 2k budget for a car. And my dad said he is going to pay for insurance as long as it is a max of 3k So far the cheapest quote i got was 5k for a VW Polo 1.4L Petrol. I want a diesel car because, my dad said he will pay for it. So need help deciding what car to get, and how to get insurance up to 3k Please help guys""

How much does it cost for 2 door car insurance?

Getting my second car soon...found a 2006 honda civic LX...this is a 2 door car (coupe) verrryyy nice and I need to know what insurance would be monthly/yearly for this. I'm still on my parents insurance- 19. Female. No accidents; tickets. North Carolina. College Student. Please help. Thank you.

SR-22 for DUI in California? Secondary liability insurance?

Has anyone ever heard of Secondary Insurance? How does it work? Is it legal? My attorney recommended a guy for this policy, and it sounds too good to be true. They create a Shell liability policy for my person, unattached to my car, and my auto rates won't increase? Is this a total scam? I need to get a SR-22 to get my lisence back. Any help is appreciated and of course bested""

Additional driver car insurance?

hi , i have a car and i have my car insurance my husband he just get his driving licence and he want to drive my car ,does he need to apply for car insurance for himself , or can i add him with me in my policy and how much will cost him . if i add him as additional driver on my policy is that will cost him to pay""

MY FRIEND CAR INSURANCE?

I WANT TO KNOW WHY STATE FARM CANCEL PEOPLE INSURANCE MY FRIEND HAS HAD 2 WRECK AND THEY PAY INSURANCE TWICE A YEAR THEY SAY AFTER YOU HAD MORE THEN ONE WRECK NO MATTER HOW LONG YOU BEEN WITH THEM THEY CANCEL AND ALSO ALLSTATE HAS A FORGIVENESS THEY NEVER CANCEL YOU

What's the cheapest car insurance in NY?

I'm 20 (female) with an 1991 Honda and a couple minor infractions, and I'm really looking to get a cheaper insurance plan. What would you recommend? Thanks!!""

Live in FL need to know were to get low car insurance rate for my daughters 2001 saturn sl1?

She is going to need comp and collision because she owes on the car she is 22 and has 1 speeding ticket cost per month now is approx 170.00 any help would be great she has progressive now

Car insurance question....?

Is it possible to see how much the isurance will be before I get the insurance??? I am 18, had my license since december 07 and never had a ticket or accidents... How much average is a teen insurance from a coupe to a minivan... I know its not in the high $800, but maybe $120+. I might get a mustang or something... plus is there an insurance gap between forigen and domestic cars???""

""Car inspected, tags, insurance, and title questions?""

Hi everyone. I have a 1996 saturn that has just been sitting for about two years now. I have a few questions. The car's tags expired about a year and a half ago, so in order to get new ones, i have to get it inspected and fixed and whatnot. I dont want to drive a car with expired tags, but is this what ill have to do in order to get them? And before I can get it inspected, i have to have the title for the car, right? My dads name is on the title, but he lost it when we moved. Can I get a new copy of the title, or does he have to do it? One more question, my dad stopped paying for insurance on it a long time ago. Like, a long time ago. Should I get it insured before i try anything else? In my mind, I plan on getting the title first, then getting it insured, getting it inspected, and then getting tags to make my car legal. Is this the right approach? My dads doesn't think he should help me with any of this, so I'm kinda on my own here. Thank you!""

Insurance Rate for a ZX6R !?

anyone know how much insurance would roughly be for a 17 year old 2007 ZX6R Motorcycle Course Completed In Ontario Thanks!!!

Impossible to find cheap car insurance :(?

I've been desperately looking for cheap car insurances but just can't find them. My cheapest quote was 3300 on a Ford Ka 2002 and that was in November or so. The cheapest I find now is 4300. I mean what the ****? Why can't I find any? * Male, 19 years of age * Full UK License since November 2009 * Could be ANY ANY car as long as its under 2k and appropriate for new drivers * Post Code is SW16 What am I doing wrong? I can't understand. Everyone else can easily get it for less than 1k. I can't. HELP Please!""

Buying a used car insurance question?

i'm buying my first car soon and i have a question. I dont have my license yet so obviously i wont be able to drive it home, my parents will. do they need insurance on it to drive it home or is there an acceptance on that?""

What a cheap small car insurance company ?

Not a big company like geico , State Farm , or nation wide""

Why are my car insurance quotes so high?

I'm about to get my first car at 25, and thought I'd look at insurance quotes for a cheap little run-around to get me started. I have only just passed my test so expected quotes to be quite high, but so far haven't seen anything below 4000 for a year! I tried looking for a quote on a Renault 1996 Clio 1.2 Versailles. Thought that would be pretty cheap. From what I've heard, I should be looking around the 1k mark for a year. Any clues as to what I'm doing wrong?""

How do I tell my over protective parents I want to move out?

So I'm 18 and I really want to move out, I have for a long time but the problem is my parents try to control everything I do. I know they want what's best for me but they're just pushing me away by telling me how to live my life. I'm just sick of living at home..my mom never lets me talk, everytime I try to say something to her she says I'm talking back and everytime I try to talk to her about something she flips out. She has a terrible temper and when she goes off it's really scary. She found out I had sex a while ago and she really freaked out and called me a *****, yet she wants to keep the communication open I don't want to talk to her about anything because I feel like she will blow up on me.   I have no clue how I'm going to tell my parents I want to move out"",I recommend one to try this web site where you  can compare quotes from different companies:""

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/get-car-insurance-quotes-without-giving-personal-info-elijah-acevedo/"

[thegravitythatdrewus]

the devil in the details.

One time, when my brother was small, he typed at his computer at school using only his middle finger. The “bad” finger. The guilt was so large, so all-consuming, he cried and told on himself to his teacher. She laughed and labeled him a good kid, for being so honest, so concerned.

He had to wash his hands a certain perfect number of times to make sure there were no more germs lurking anywhere in the tiniest imperceptible cracks of his skin.

At night when I put my ear to the wall there were bumping noises on the other side. Lanky arms and legs in a contest with the wall in his worst nightmares. Always protecting someone he loved from certain doom while he slept. Because anxiety never really sleeps.

When I was seven I noticed in myself an inability to escape details. My parents often laughed about my observation skills, but it was less of a skill and more of an instinct. I absorbed everything my environment had to offer, even when I didn’t want to.

The news channels became a source of anxiety. Missing people, sexual assaults, and murder mysteries on crime shows. I couldn’t escape the heart-wrenching details. They took root in my brain and blossomed something like fear.

Nothing escaped me.

The pencil marks that wouldn’t quite erase on my school papers.

The seams in my socks that crept uncomfortably beneath my toes.

The tags on my shirts that scraped the base of my neck and felt something like sandpaper.

I set my teeth on edge and ripped holes in my school papers with the friction of the eraser to rid them of the marks. Took my shoes off to fix my sock seams no matter where I was. Had my mom cut every uncomfortable tag off every piece of clothing I owned.

If I felt a tickle at the base of my eyelash, I just pulled it out. I pulled them out until my eyes were swollen and there were visible gaps in my once thick lashes.

Fear and agitation crept in from all the details I took in too often and didn’t know how to hold. They built inside me until they had nowhere to go.

As a seven year old I sat at the breakfast table and sobbed over a waffle before school because I was terrified for no good reason. There was so much in my head, how was I supposed to go to school and interact with the outside world?

I woke my mom crying over and over again in the middle of the night to tell her I couldn’t stop thinking about people who did horrible things to other people. I wanted her to make my mind be quiet.

Distressing details found my brain everywhere I went and buried in its ridges like unforgiving claws.

I knew this was a problem when I started walking around the room to touch all my dresser drawers a certain number of times before bed. I felt like the places I touched things had a mark that I could see, and if I didn’t touch each one then everything would be unbalanced. I traced every object I saw when I laid in bed with my eyes, back and forth and back and forth, counting the number of sides on each object. And if I didn’t finish tracing the object and counting its sides I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I flipped the light switch seven times and had to end with the switch down, so my mom wouldn’t die in a car wreck the next day. If I did it the wrong number of times she would die and it would be all my fault.

I knew why my brother was so scared of germs, so scared of doing something immoral, so scared of losing the people he loved. The details of life ate away at his mind too. Scary tiny details were everywhere, like hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling out of every hole in every wall.

This eye for detail. All the scary unknowns involved in looking too closely. Like God set the lens of our brains to the highest zoom at birth and then forgot how to set it back to normal. There was no big picture. Only details. Deafening, terrifying details.

I don’t touch my dresser drawers before bed anymore. And my brother doesn’t scrub his hands raw.

But I still register every change in the inflection of someone’s voice. Feel the smallest changes in body language like a bolt of lightning that runs through my body. Feel the air in the room change when someone’s mood changes. The feelings creep adrenaline up my spine and I feel it spread like warm blood through the back of my skull.

Sometimes I feel so much I can no longer feel anything at all.

Sometimes when you touched me in too many places at once, I lost sensation.

Sometimes when I clench my jaw my teeth squeezing together is the only thing that I can feel.

Sometimes when I can feel my own heart beat I stare at my chest and watch the quick and almost imperceptible rise and fall until the outer edges of my vision blur and it’s all I can see.

Sometimes when I was afraid of something, or hurt by you, my peripheral blurred and the lens that’s perpetually stuck in zoom fixated, and begged you for relief from that creeping feeling of adrenaline that floods my body.

When I knew I had to leave you, I sat in the bathtub, set my teeth, and scrubbed my skin until it was raw, just like my brother used to do, because I felt like I could still feel your hands. Like I would always be able to feel them hovering right over my skin like a taunt. I looked down and saw the marks I used to see on my dresser drawers. Your fingerprints stuck to my skin forever. I scrubbed these details away in a panic until all I could see was pink skin.

Every time my brother’s daughter bends down to the floor, and picks up the tiniest little speck she finds there with her chubby toddler fingers,

Looks up at me, beams a toothless grin and sets it in my hand,

I squeeze it into my palm and pray she doesn’t begin to find

the devil in between the carpet fibers

Like me and her father.

I scrubbed my skin but it still feels tainted.

My hands have been shaking for a week straight. I watch one finger at a time just shaking like a leaf. It makes it hard to hold anything. Or hide anything.

I’ll never stop seeing details everywhere I go. They’ll always get stuck in my mind.

You are a detail now. Stuck on and in me. I still squeeze my eyes shut and pray for you to live longer than is humanly possible because I remember that you wanted to. I still think about how you told me you thought you weren’t special as a child and pray for God to let you somehow hear me tell you telepathically that you are.

I’m almost 24 now and my mom is still alive, even though I flip the light switch only once now. I climb in bed tonight and let myself feel the emptiness of the big picture: a frayed connection; a room that only I sleep in. I unclench my jaw and spread my arms out beside me. The chasm between us is large and feels tangible. Like I could reach out and feel the lack, buzzing at the end of my fingers. There’s no adrenaline in my skull but my chest aches all the way around to my back and puts a bend in my spine.

I tuck myself in. Point one finger out next to me and say “I’m not touching you” like I used to do when I actually could. My fingertip remembers the details of your skin.

I feel it pulse against nothing and start to cry. I know that you see details too. That neither of us know how to look at the big picture.

All we can see, and all we can feel, is the devil in the details and the prickly feeling of fear at the back of our heavy heads.

But when I close my eyes finally and try to rest I pray that when you do too you’ll think of me just a little bit. Maybe that’s just enough for now.

[yeongwonhi-nuna]

Get to know me tag

Thank you, as always,  @supercriminalwolf for always tagging me in these things! <3

1. Nickname: I don’t really have a nickname

2. Gender: Female

3. Star Sign: Scorpio

4. Height: 5’6″

5. Current Time: 4:33pm

6. Birthday: 30/10

7. Favorite Band(s): Oh lord... I know I’m going to forget so many...

VIXX, B.A.P., F.T.Island, The Rose, BTS, Monsta X, NCT, Day6, Wanna One, Mamamoo, K.A.R.D, History, Got7, Nu’est, Linkin Park, Astro, Seventeen, Stray Kids, Panic at the Disco, 3racha, Black6ix,

8. Favorite Solo Artist(s): Amber, Taemin, Ailee, Jay Park, Jessi, Hyuna, Agust D, Zico, Yezi, Jung Sewoon, Miso, Park HyoShin, Zhang Yixing, Hyorin

9. Song Stuck in My Head: I can’t remember what it’s called but in the first ep of Idol Producer there was a boy from Thailand and he sang the most addictive song in the world and it has been lodged in my brain for 3 days straight. 

10. Last Movie I Watched: Barely Lethal (I think that’s what it’s called....)

11. Last Show I Watched: 1000 ways to die

12. When I Created My Blog: Oct 2015

13. What I Post: Mainly K-pop, but sometimes I reblog random stuff like Harry Potter, bullet journals or Marvel related content

14. Last Thing I googled: Hughes, B. (2001) reference

15. Do I Have Other Blogs: I have a blog for my photography

16. Do I Get Asks: Not often (Feel free to send them in!)

17. Why Did I Choose My Url: It is a running joke that I am always older than every idol so I am the yeongwonhi-nuna

18. Following: 181

19. Followers: 173

20. Favorite Color(s): Black, red, silver, 

21. Average Hours of Sleep: 7

22. Lucky Number: 3

23. Instruments: I used to play clarinet in school XD I was rubbish tho

24. What I am Wearing: Cypher hoodie, sweatpants, fluffy socks and my new glasses!

25. How Many Blankets I sleep with: 1

26. Dream Job: Owner of a language school/teacher

27. Dream Trip: Everywhere. I want to visit as many places as humanly possible

28. Favorite Food: Dokkbokki, bibimbap, Korean BBQ, bread, curry, enchiladas, burritos (I’m honestly not overly fussing with food)

29. Nationality: Scottish

30. Favorite Song Now: Peach - Zhang Yixing - I don’t know why I’ve been listening to it so much these days