#yeah yeah unsolved murder whatever

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Watching the TV series Bodies and sometimes a found family is a closeted detective with a literal and metaphorical beard from the 1890's, a two timing detective from 1941 who just cannot stop being on that damn phone, a detective from 2023 who just wants to hang out with her kid but is being forcibly girlbossed, and a 2053 futuristic detective with tragic bangs and chronic illness.

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Kinktober day 10 - Ghost!Miguel

Prompt list

CW: nsfw, ghost, ftm!reader, kinda creepy, “pussy”/“cunt” used, squirting, eating out

Note: Tonight is gonna be a bit short because uh yeah depression fucking sucks ass… anyway- I like ghosts :] (🎶if you have ghoosssttt you have everythiiing-🎶)

Ps don’t question it it’s fictiooooonnnn…

Creepy stuff never bothered you before, and hey creepy generally meant cheaper. So when you heard of this really nice house that was half price do you a murder that took place, fuck yeah you wanna buy that shit. A little murder didn’t hurt especially when it meant you get cheap shit and it’s not like you committed the crime sooo…

The random noises and random moving objects was all easy to explain away. You probably forgot you moved it or it was probably the wind. Easy shit to explain. Though… seeing a figure of a man in the hallway was weird… You thought someone had broken in but as you got closer he disappeared.

This started happening more often, you’d see him, try to approach, and he’d vanish. He didn’t run and hide, he just went poof. Eventually you learned to not approach him, and instead would wave. After a few times he waved back, and that surprised you. Before it didn’t seem like he knew you were there, and know he’s acknowledged your existence.

He started sticking around more, started to acknowledge your presence more. He was very handsome for whatever the fuck he was. You figured he was a ghost, a spirit trapped in the mortal realm after his untimely death.

You noticed he would hang around more often, watching what you did or what you had on the tv. It didn’t bother you, and it was kind of nice knowing you had friendly eyes on you. At least you thought he was friendly, considering he hasn’t tried to possess and or murder you by now.

Some quick research told you what you were curious about. His name was Miguel O’Hara, his murder was unsolved. Perhaps that’s why he hung around, unfinished business and all. You tried to get him to open up to you, but he never spoke a word to you. He would just watch you and vanish before any progress is made.

One day, you were getting dressed in the morning when you noticed out of the corner of your eye he was standing in the doorway. He was watching you, but you didn’t feel unsafe.

“You have scars. Did someone hurt you?” He spoke for the first time since you met him. His voice surprised you. It sounded soft and distant, almost an echo to it.

It took you a moment to realize what he was referring to. “Oh.” You looked down at yourself, then back at him. “No, they’re just from surgery.”

“Ah. Okay then.” He nods and looks around your room.

“Do you have to stand there while I get dressed?” You chuckled a little. You didn’t entirely mind, what could he do he’s dead. He didn’t respond, and instead stood there like he had been.

You shrugged and continued changing, removing your pants and underwear. You bent over looking at your dresser for some panties. He looked over and would have blushed if he had blood. Your pussy looked so perfect to him, so wet and just asking for his attention.

“I can feel you staring.” You spoke up, still bend over. Suddenly, cold hands grabs your bare hips. You let out a small gasp as the freezing touch. He moves a hand from your hip to your pussy, dragging a cold finger through your slick folds and sending shivers through your body.

He stayed silent as a finger slipped inside you, making you shudder and moan. Part of you wondered how this was possible, how was he able to touch you if he’s dead. You weren’t complaining, but the wonder was still there. The thoughts were immediately forgotten, however, when you felt another finger circle your clit, drawing louder moans from you.

Miguel seemed pleased with, and pulled his hand away. It was silent and still for a moment, and you started to wonder if he had walked away. That was until you felt something else against your cunt, something hard.

You bit your lip as you felt his cock push into you, stretching your already tight pussy. Fuck he was big. How could anyone wanna murder a guy with THAT in his pants. He held onto your hips, guiding you down his shaft until your pelvis was against his. Miguel’s hands moved upward, under your shirt as he felt your body, his fingers eventually finding your scars and touching the flesh.

He turned his attention to your nipples, lightly tugging and teasing, earning little grunts of pleasure from you. He enjoyed that sound, it made his dick twitch. Your pussy contracted around him and he groaned slightly, starting to thrust his hips slow at first.

Miguel steadily picked up the pace until he was slamming into you at an inhuman speed. You cried out and moaned into the palm of your hand as this spirit ravaged your cunt. You were dripping wet just from the initial touches to your pussy. A hand went back down and played with your clit, gently tugging and rubbing circles as you whined.

It was so overstimulating, everything was pulling you closer and closer to the edge. The warm knot in your gut formed quickly, with all this pleasure it wasn’t hard. He was eager and ready to please, ready to pleasure you in any way he could, you were gorgeous to him.

You let out a loud moan as you came from his fingers and cock. His pelvis and lower torso were drenched from you squirting on him. The sight made him unravel immediately. He groaned and grunted as he spilled inside you, ice cold cum filling your pussy as his fingers moved faster, drawing more squirt juices from you and making you cry out.

He pulled out and released your clit from the torment. You panted and leaned against your dresser to stay upright, clit twitching from so much stimulation. He couldn’t help but admire you even more, so soaking wet from cumming, it drove him made

Miguel moved onto his knees and licked your pussy, making you moan and whimper slightly. He loved those sounds so much. His mouth wrapped around your clit and he sucked gently, making you cry out once more. He was so eager, happily pleasuring your clit all over again. He pushed his cold fingers into your pussy and finger fucked you roughly as he licked and sucked your clit, hoping for another shower.

You whined and rocked your hips a little, rubbing your pussy on his face as the pleasure overtook you. You saw stars in the air as reality melted away, and all you could think of was Miguel’s mouth, pleasing your cunt so perfectly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you against his face, eating you out as if it were his last meal.

His grip tightened and you could feel another orgasm building up inside you. It wasn’t long before you came a second time, squirting once more and giving Miguel that shower he wanted. He didn’t stop going to town on your cunt, however. He just couldn’t get enough, holding your trembling legs as he feasted.

Eventually he did stop, after making you cum a third… fourth… and fifth time. By then you were gone, thoughts incoherent and words just a mumbling mess, unable to keep yourself up anymore. He helped you into bed, wiping up any mess left on you and tucking you in.

“That was fun.” He spoke up. In your sleepy mindless state all you could manage was “mhm”. He didn’t mind, smiling down at you as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

He’d watch over you of course. Always.

———

Tag list(feel free to ask to be on it):

@6thhokageswife @zaunsin @famouscattale @m4dyy @thedevax @migueloharastruelove @queerponcho @lynnxnnyl

[david-talks-sw]

I think it's interesting that - in order to make his "free-thinking Jedi" characters hold any semblance of rationality in their arguments - Dave Filoni needs to resort to artificially dehumanizing the other Jedi and painting them all with the same "we dogmatically worship protocol" brush.

He does this with Huyang in the recent Ahsoka episode.

"Lolz he's so narrow-minded, preachy and by-the-book, unable to think outside the box, just like the Jedi in the Prequels."

My first reaction was being amused at the fact that Filoni had to resort to making the Jedi Order's ideals and rules be embodied by a literal machine for his anti-Jedi headcanon to start making sense.

But then I remembered: Huyang isn't just any droid.

In The Clone Wars, he had a sassy personality, he had a pep in his step, he had a sense of humor...

This character was human in his behavior, he was fun and whimsical.

But now he's been reduced to, I dunno, "Jedi C-3PO"? Basically?

"Ha! He's blunt and unsympathetic because he's a droid, but it's funny because the Jedi were the same, they were training themselves to be tactless, emotionless droids."

And Filoni does this with Mace Windu too, in Tales of the Jedi.

Mace, who brought a lightsaber to the throat of a planetary leader to defend the endangered Zillo Beast...

... and who went waaay past his mandate by mischievously sneaking around Bardottan authorities and breaking into the Queen's quarters because he felt something bad was afoot...

... was reduced to being an almost droid-like, rule-parotting, protocol purist who sticks to his instructions (and is implied to be willing to let a murder go unsolved so he can get a promotion).

I mentioned this at the end of my first post on Luke in The Last Jedi... while changes in personality do happen overtime and can be explained in-universe... if you don't show us that progression and evolution and just leave us without that context, that'll break the suspension of disbelief, for your audience.

Here, we have two characters with a different (almost caricatural) personality than the one they were originally shown to have.

Now... we could resort to headcanons, to make it all fit together.

We could justify Huyang's tone shift 'cause "Order 66 changed him". And we could make explanations about TotJ's Mace:

Being younger and thus more ambitious and a stickler for the rules, and only really becoming more flexible after getting his seat on the Council and gaining more maturity.

Being such a teacher's pet in the episode because we're seeing him through the eyes of a notorious unreliable narrator, Dooku.

There'd be nothing wrong with opting to go with either of those headcanons to cope with this. After all, Star Wars is meant to help you get creative.

But the problem I encounter is that:

Filoni has an anti-Jedi bias, so the above headcanons clearly wouldn't really track with his intended narrative.

We'd be jumping through hoops to extrapolate and fill in what is, essentially, inconsistent characterization, manufactured to make Ahsoka and Dooku shine under a better light.

And that sours whatever headcanon I come up with.

Edit: Also, yeah, as folks have been saying in the tags... wtf is "Jedi protocol"? The term isn't ever mentioned in the movies, I skimmed through dialog transcripts of TCW, never saw it there.

So it's almost as if - if Filoni wasn't draining characters like Mace and Huyang of all humanity and nuance - his point about "the Jedi were too detached and lost their way, but not free-thinkers like Qui-Gon, Dooku and Ahsoka" wouldn't really hold much water.

[susiephone]

after the IWTV s2 finale, I have decided that in universe buzzfeed unsolved true crime did an episode on the 1132 Royal Street Murders and took the tour

Ryan: Lioncourt also caused quite a stir when his Mardi Gras performance had him dress as a vampire... and bite the head off a baby doll in front of the crowd!

Shane: (wheeze) I fuckin love this guy

Ryan: yeah, i figured you would

Ryan: It should be noted that the identity of the young girl living with Louis de Pointe du Lac is hotly debated by experts. Many believe she was the illegitimate daughter of either Louis' deceased brother Paul, Lesander Lioncourt, or possibly Louis himself. Others believe she was an orphan whom Louis adopted, teaching her magic to assist in his rituals. Others still believe she may have been- to put it as delicately as I can here- Louis' child bride!

Shane: NO

Ryan: Yeah, I, uh-

Shane: DON'T LIKE THAT. No no no no NO.

Ryan: For whatever it's worth... there's no real solid evidence that's true, it's just sometimes brought up when people are... Basically no one, at the time or since, could figure out who the hell this kid was or why she was there. And this is just one theory.

Shane: I like the... you said earlier a lot of people thought Louis was gay, right?

Ryan: Yeah, uh, it's another popular theory, mostly cause he never married-

Shane: outside of his possible child bride

Ryan: outside of his... (wheeze)

Shane: is child marriage funny to you, Ryan?

Ryan: no it's not funny to me! Just the way you said that- (wheeze)

Shane: Oh LAUGH IT UP

Ryan: anyway, there's also speculation that Louis and a friend of his may have been a thing, but he also apparently had a girlfriend for awhile, so who knows.

Shane: if we assume he's gay, I like the secretly his niece theory. I also like the orphan off the streets theory, adopting a scrappy young orphan to assist you in your creepy magical bullshit seems... very whimsical!

Ryan: 24 people died, Shane, is that whimsical to you?!

Shane: I mean... you said most of 'em were racist, so.

Ryan: our final theory posits that Louis, Lesander, and possibly other guests at that fateful Mardi Gras party... were actually vampires!

(pause)

Shane: no.

Ryan: now I know it sounds crazy-

Shane: NO, Ryan.

Ryan: but if you look at the newspapers and crime reports in New Orleans at the time-

Shane: This was the crime-iest time in history! Axeman, remember him? Cleveland Torso Killer, man! Al Capone! Bonnie and Clyde! People got murdered left and right by all kinds of freaks!

Ryan: ......right, but if you look at this headstone-

Shane: (groans)

[tiktaalic]

do you have any book recs that Aren’t bad

from this year:

just like home - sara gailey. i started this one today and i'm only a couple of chapters in but i'm really enjoying it. horror.

rabbit hole - kate brody. the summary said it's for fans of gillian flynn fleabag and my favorite murder which does it incredibly dirty imo. it is very gillian to me mostly because gillian loooooves to write an isolated woman ruining her life while a crime related to her family is unsolved. thriller? i guess? it's very sharp objects to me. whatever you'd class that as.

the traitor baru cormorant - seth dickinson. i liked it! it's definitely. you have to have the fantasy reading temperament. it took me awhile to get into it and i hit the hundreds of pages of war strategy and went well. time to get through this part i guess. but the ending is soooooo good.

pet - catherine chidgley. summary made me think it'd be more sicko than it was, but i enjoyed it! it's a thinker. kind of. unreliable narrator kind of book.

freshwater - akwaeke emezi. beautiful book. probably my favorite from this year. i loved it a lot.

last year:

leech - hiron ennes. really interesting concept. i was very much hooked from page one. horror? i guess? one of my top two of the year.

dark places - gillian flynn. imo you could tell that gillian was still getting her Writing Legs while writing this but. i mean it's gillian flynn i enjoyed it a lot.

disappearance at devil's rock - paul tremblay. i like most of paul's stuff besides pallbearer's club.

the little friend - donna tartt. you know that post thats like me 300 pages into the goldfinch. sobbing. donna. donna please. donna what is the plot of this book. "theo is sad. he misses boris." you're so right ms. tartt i'll stop asking questions. yeah this is donna alright. but i liked it. i liked reading about a kid running around being a kid in the summer. sue me

a head full of ghosts - paul tremblay. ONLY! read this after we have always lived in the castle shirley jackson. if you can back to back them that's the way to do it. this is my other top two of the year.

[armoricaroyalty]

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note: now here are those wholesome sibling relationships we have all come to love and expect from my story!

Transcript under the cut.

Nakawe Palace // Armorican State Visit - Day 2

REPORTER | ...I'm live outside of Nakawe Palace, where the press and members of the public alike have gathered following unconfirmed reports that Crown Princess Rosalind has, for 3 years, conducted a secret relationship. REPORTER | This afternoon, Uspanian tabloid The Concordia Times broke the story of the Crown Princess's relationship with Komrebigan national—and accused murderer—Hakane Satō, also known as Mary Yokoyama. REPORTER | [offscreen] In 2013, Yokoyama was named as a person of interest in the still-unsolved disappearance of her husband, Noah Satō. She was questioned by Komorebigan police in 2013 and again in 2014, but released without charge. Blackwell Palace has yet to comment on this developing story... MARY | [offscreen] Are you sure this is a good idea? ROSALIND | Do you have a better one? MARY | No, but give me a week— ROSALIND | We don't have a week. ROSALIND | [in Komorebigo] Darling, is everything alright? You seem upset. MARY | [forcing a smile] I'm fine. [knock on door] ROSALIND | That's them, now. ROSALIND | You're late. MARY | Good to see you both. EMILY | Don't look at me! I was ready to go while he was still putting his contacts in. FREDERICK | Sorry. I was late getting back from Canarís. I ran into an old friend... ROSALIND | Well...whatever! Come in! Sit down! We need to talk... ROSALIND | So...I'm sure you've seen the news by now. FREDERICK | Heck, I've seen the reporters. They're still all outside, by the way. EMILY | Frederick... ROSALIND | Can you not be a smug know-it-all for 15 minutes? This is serious. ROSALIND | We don't know how the story got out. We're looking into potential leaks, but in the meantime, we can't allow the press to run with this. The longer it's in the headlines, the worse it'll be for the family. EMILY | I'm so sorry, Your Highness. This must be so difficult— FREDERICK | You've got friends in the press. Can't you get Vance Marshall or one of his cronies to kill this one for you? He's done it before. ROSALIND | It's too late for that. It's all over the Uspanian press and the major Armorican networks have already picked it up. Our only option now is damage control, and we'll need something big to bury this one. ROSALIND | [sighs] We need you. Both of you. EMILY | Both of us? FREDERICK | I don't think I like where this is headed... ROSALIND | [offscreen] The only thing that people love more than a royal scandal is a royal wedding. EMILY | ... FREDERICK | ... FREDERICK | Roz, are you shitting me? EMILY | Frederick— FREDERICK | You want me to propose just to bury an embarrassing story? ROSALIND | What's the big deal? You were going to do it, anyway— FREDERICK | get shit from the press every single day of my life! And you have never once lifted a finger to defend me, but I'm supposed to make major life decisions to spare you a couple weeks of bad press? ROSALIND | [offscreen] I am the Crown Princess— FREDERICK | Yeah! I know! You've never once let anyone forget it. ROSALIND | [offscreen] —I have to be beyond reproach. ROSALIND | Unlike you, I do not have the luxury of making mistakes. Everything I do has to be perfect, for the sake of the entire family! Everyone depends on me, Freddy! Do you really think the Armorican taxpayer would keep paying for your fuck-ups if I wasn't included in the bargain? FREDERICK | Oh, poor you, it must be sOoOo fucking hard being the chosen one! ROSALIND | IT'S NOT MY FAULT I WAS BORN FIRST YOU ENTITLED LITTLE— EMILY | [offscreen] [sobs] FREDERICK | ...Em?

[thefandomtrashpit]

What's sad about MD ending is not that it's ending

Putting a read more because like a lot of my other text post, this one got long

Welp, by now I'm sure the majority of the fans have heard about the trailer for the 8th episode of Murder drones, and how that trailer is called the 'Series Final.' Of course, this is upsetting in itself. This story about these weird little robots, the world that the live in, and how this 'big bad eldritch abomination of a code error' feels like it is ending way too soon what the show has built up in its run time. There feels like there's still to many questions that are going to be left unaswered, and too many mysteries that are going to be left unsolved...but at the end of the day, it's also better to leave a series in a high note then to continue banging it out and watch it become a mess of what it originally was.

Yes, I am sad that after waiting for so long, I hear that something I was looking forward to is going to be ending with an episode that's coming up in a few weeks at this point in time. Much like a lot of other fans, I was holding onto the hope and the copium that Murder Drones would be getting a second season after Glitch finally released the awaited 8th episode. And I was very much disheartened with seeing the episode trailer being called it's series final and just the season final. But I can except than the book for this crazy little story has to come to a close. I now just hold out hope that the time the people working on the show has put into this episode will leave all us fans satisfied with where this crazy and wonderful story we all stuck around for ends.

But now it time to get into what I put in as the title. As sad before, the series coming to an end is going to be sad, but I personally don't think that's going to be the saddest part. No, I think the saddest part is going to be slow death of the memory of the show. Why I think this...Well, it's what happened to Meta Runner. This was the first show of the Glitch Productions channel, and we barely see anything about it getting talked about. Glitch didn't even so much as tweet anything about Meta Runner on the anniversary of the show, all the past merch was put under the 'Glitch Classics' section of the store, and said merch is forever sold out as no more of them are being made. Sure we got a little Tari figure in the new 'Glitch Inn' that the company is doing, but that really is only because Glitch acknowledges the fact that some fans still remember Meta Runner. Tari on the SMG4 channel has just become than just a 'quirky' background character to the other characters on that channel, her purpose of advertising her show long gone by. What was once the driving project for this indie show company has been reduced to getting nothing more than fun little call backs.

Eventually, the same is going to happened to Murder drones. The merch is going to stop being made, when the last of it gets sold that's it for it all, and it is even possibly going to be moved under the Classic section of the store to make room for whatever other projects Glitch does to be one the front page. Kevin and Luke aren't going to be talking much about the show, as there's not going to be a reason to with it being over. And eventually the projects they do after the show is going to push the shows playlist on the channel down. There is going to come a time when we look back on what happened and think 'Wow, this show only exists in references now.'

So yeah, those have been my thought about what sad about the show coming to an end.

[part-time-zombie]

What's Bugging You

pairings: platonic dukexiety

summary: virgil usually spends time online when he's bored/stressed, and he never really expects anyone to take an interest in spending time with him. remus shows up to prove him wrong.

tags/warnings: crude language, but it's remus and virgil, so that's par for the course lol

word count: 836

Virgil was feeling overwhelmed again. He had been worked up all day what with everything that had been going on in Thomas’ life, and he really needed to take his mind off things. The others were all busy either arguing or working, otherwise he might have gone to them for a distraction in the form of a movie or even just a lighthearted talk. Today however, it looked like he had to busy himself with doomscrolling alone again.

He had gotten used to dealing with his problems by himself; he had done so plenty of times before the others accepted him and even afterwards every now and then. No one really seemed to actively like him, the best he got was begrudging toleration or respectful appreciation, but when it came to just sitting down and spending time together after a long day the other sides generally didn’t seek him out specifically. He usually just sat by himself and stared at whatever his computer screen offered as a viable distraction from whatever it was that was troubling him.

That was exactly what he was doing now, curled up on the couch and slouched over his laptop while he tried to focus on the murder mystery video he had pulled up. He could vaguely see one of the others enter the kitchen just out of his peripheral, but he didn’t want to take his focus away from the video so he didn’t pay it any mind. Virgil eventually felt the couch dip beside him, and he turned to see Remus staring over at his computer screen as he chewed on a cold pizza slice.

"What’cha watchin’ there?” he asked, leering over Virgil’s shoulder to get a better look.

"Nothing,” Virgil responded, a bit faster than necessary.

“Porn?”

“What? No, it’s just about an unsolved case,” he explained, hurriedly trying to move the computer screen away from Remus’ prying eyes.

“Oh, really? That sounds fucking cool! Is it about a murder? Can I see?” he asked, flashing him an excited smile as he scooted closer.

Virgil hesitated, one hand frozen from where it was moving to close the laptop. Remus actually wanted to spend time with him? That was new. They weren’t exactly close, at least not anymore, and most of the time when Remus was around it was because he had some prank or plot he was putting in motion. Virgil honestly didn’t think anyone liked the things he was interested in; Roman and Patton were unnerved by the spiders and horror stories he showed them, while Logan and Janus were polite but dismissive of anything he shared.

“You… you actually wanna watch this with me?” he asked.

"Hell yeah! If it’s got mutilated bodies or creepy cryptids you can count me in!” he cheered.

“… okay, then. Sure, I guess,” Virgil said, angling the screen for them both to watch.

The two sat together in silence, letting the video play in the otherwise empty living room. He didn’t think Remus would really enjoy his company all that much yet here he was, watching a disturbing video about a brutal unsolved murder case with an eager grin. He supposed it did make some sense. Remus usually showed an appreciation for the morbid and the macabre, but to think that he liked spending time with him was honestly kind of hard to wrap his head around. Not like he was complaining. It was weird but still kind of nice spending time with Remus like this, where he could almost let himself relax in the company of the demented side.

"You’re shrimping,” Remus blurted out, pulling Virgil out of his thoughts.

Virgil looked over at him, not quite sure what he was saying. “What?”

“You’re shrimping. You know, all curled up and hunched over yourself until you look like a fucking shrimp. It’s like you’re trying to bend yourself in half and suck your own dick or something,” he said with a chuckle, eyes never leaving the screen.

 “Oh. Okay, what about it?” Virgil asked, shifting his posture slightly at the observation.

“Well, you know if you keep doing that you’ll probably end up looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame. There’s a photo of this one guy, he was leaning forward in his chair until his face was like an inch from the screen all the time, and then his neck stretched out over the years and he looks like a fucking giraffe now. It’s honestly kind of funny.” Remus chuckled to himself at the visual.

Virgil sat up in the couch at that, straightening his posture and wincing slightly at the ache it caused him. He really had been slouching an awful lot, hadn’t he? How long would he have kept sitting like that had Remus not said anything? Probably too long to be healthy for him.

 “Whatever. Thanks for the info, I guess,” he grumbled, not looking up at him.

“Sure thing, emo.”

Virgil smiled to himself, already planning on which video they would watch together next.

@keitaisghost @yuckypuppie @britt-ish123 @nico-the-overlord @rougeside4 @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @new-zee-land @new-zee-land @can-i-take-a-stab

[magnus-sm-writes]

WIP Intro: (Demon) Hunting for Love

Genre: queer paranormal romance 

Status: (rough) drafting 

Synopsis: Quincy is a son of Satan, but he’d much rather be stirring up trouble on Earth than struggling to be next in line for his father’s throne. When a demon hunter nearly catches a fellow demon, Quincy sees an opportunity to both be owed a favor by said demon and scare the shit out of a human. But he finds demon hunting with Otto more interesting than it has any right to be, and for the first time, he thinks he might actually trust someone.

Logline: A demon wants to scare the shit out of a human; instead, he falls in love.

Literal Logline: Human makes son of Satan a soft boy.

Vibes: Rainy nights, creaking floorboards, Top 10 Demonic Activity videos, reading Creepypastas late at night when you’re young, the smell of dust, playing with Ouija boards, going to haunted houses, overgrown grass around abandoned buildings, long conversations with your best friend, jean jackets over hoodies, graveyards at night

Inspiration: Buzzfeed Unsolved, CreepCast, Gravity Falls, Good Omens, found footage movies

Tags: Friends to Lovers, First Love, Cuddling for Warmth, Idiots in Love, Paranormal Investigators

Quincy, Devilspawn

(Insta: dragoncuspid)

Despite being a child of Satan, Quincy has little interest in participating in the power struggles and back stabbings in Hell. He wants the upper hand in every situation and gets a bit panicky when he doesn’t have it. Quincy has never had a real friend before.

Otto Jackson

(Insta: delanodeej)

An online demon hunter recovering from a recent “cheating” scandal, Otto is placing a lot of pressure on himself to gain his old following back. He’s determined to find a real demon, this time, not knowing he nearly caught a demon in a previous video. With Quincy by his side, he’s certain he finally has a chance.

Excerpt: 

“Hey, editing Otto. Put in the exact amount of years,” Quincy says. “And throw a party hat on me.”

“Why do I have to put a party hat on you?”

“You’re not editing Otto. But I want to have a party hat because it’s never a bad time to throw a party.” Quincy stretches out his legs. “Anyways, yeah, I’m not discounting our ancestors or whatever. I’m saying that, in a house that’s been empty for a little longer than thirty years—throw in the date of the murder attempt—, it’s kind of a miracle it hasn’t rotted apart by now.”

“It was inhabited until the two-thousands. The family sold it off—”

“Okay, so it’s been abandoned for twenty years. Whoo-hoo, ten less than I originally thought. That’s still a long time without upkeep. It’s like… shit, man, we could’ve fallen through the ceiling.”

(Edit 6.18.24: I updated Otto's face claim since I use Tre Samuels for 2 other projects and even though I think he's really cute, that's a lot of projects.)

[iantimony]

tuesday line go up (derogatory)

hello from the end of my workday. writing this on my office computer as i watch my simulation crash in real time in the background. convergence line go up :(

listening: astonishing legends the body on the moor part 1, for some reason astonishing legends is such good Cleaning And Organizing noise to my brain. i've raised my eyebrow at some of their conclusions sometimes but i love a good unsolved mystery that doesn't focus on true crime what i can say

more 00s, just whatever shit the spotify algorithm spits out basically..."hard and heavy headbanging tuesday afternoon". i think for brevity i am going to focus on posting only the things that stuck out to me or are ear worms at the moment, which for this week is miss murder by afi, the kill by 30 seconds to mars, and out of control by hoobastank, especially the line in the latter after the chorus that goes 'and i may never know the answer to this endless mystery' that for some reason tickles my brain.

reading: Bring Back Those Pumped Italian Sodas (Anna Hezel): i LOVE italian sodas. the candy shop on main street near me does italian sodas and it is my favorite little treat to do a hot girl walk downtown and get a little bevvy to come with me. they whip so hard. bring them back everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!

elitism is the enemy of the people (Mina Le) and the linked The machine in the garden. (Emily Sundberg) ... discourse(tm) about What Substack Is For, which means nothing to me as a non-substack user. i use a rss reader to follow a few specific substacks but i do not use the platform even a little bit. sundberg seems to disparage the list format (shoutout to miss deb perelmen who i saw in there as an example of things that are pushed on the platform now) (deb's newsletter is one of the ones i follow with my rss feed lol) slash the concept of "list of content I’m consuming" which. looks at my weekly roundup posts. lol. i do understand to an extent, though - does my weekly roundup post make me a Writer(tm)?? i would kinda agree that no not really.

this zine that i think i reblogged yesterday is very cute.

watching: i saw the new alien movie with a friend! it was really good, i enjoyed it, i did look up the jumpscares beforehand because i do not do well with those in theaters especially the big imax ones, but it ended up not being necessary - the local theater here has no imax or any of the big surround sound gimmick things, which i actually prefer, and it also means the tickets were dirt cheap. 10/10 experience. the movie itself was fun, the correct amount of peen/vag imagery that one would expect from an alien movie. important to note that the dehumanization of an android character (who is also the only black character and strongly autism coded) is a big plot thing, it is not Good that he is treated that way and that is also a plot thing but it is important to know going in so it's not a surprise (thanks to someone in a server i'm in for pointing that out, i didn't clock it as being potentially triggering when i saw it but i was like ohh yeah that does make sense to warn people about). really good cast and plot overall, there was only like one point where i was like "whyyy nooo that makes no sense, why would you do that" (without too much spoiling, the gravity turns on and off in a portion and they were just. zooming up an elevator shaft using the lack of gravity. like why would you not be staying near the ladder. you KNOW it's going to turn off at some random point. anyways), but in general the decisions the characters made were really reasonable which made it very fun to watch the consequences of like, yeah, that is also the choice i would have made, shit. the ending made me go EUGH!! in a good way. lots of good easter eggs that i probably missed some of. made me weirdly nostalgic for my dad because when i was growing up he had a life-size hyper-realistic rubber facehugger model. he used to mime getting attacked by it. my mom hated that fucking thing. it must have gotten thrown out or given away at some point. anyways, as the kids would say: it's kino

thank u celestialtourguide for ur dropout login xoxo, i have been watching a lot of 'make some noise'. i love how sometimes you can hear the crew laughing in the background.

youtubesphere:

jimmy robins: The Fallout of Watcher's Betrayal, what sparked me looking more at dropout. also found out from the comments section that sam reich is son of robert reich ??? wild

finished the george r r martin problem. basically: yeagh

dangelo wallace: not gonna link em all but his videos on chapell roan, katy perry, blake lively, and starbucks. pop culture updates that mean nothing to me. good background noise tho

mina le: underconsumption-core, travel outfits, and Paul Mescal’s shorts, the luxury of privacy & the celebrity vs. influencer paradox. my boyfriend is a proponent of the tiny inseam shorts and i wholly encourage it. more of that, please, from everyone.

made in the moment: My Crafty Boston Apartment Tour. as someone who is also just moved into my own apartment alone for the first time and is in the process of making the space feel like mine, this hits interestingly.

playing: dnd as normal. i finally got to go mask-off, was replaced by a doppleganger like six months ago and finally got to pop off and kill some guys and beat the shit out of my friends lol >:b i have also moved the game that i run to biweekly instead of weekly. i just have too much fucking things happening and dm burnout real.

making: evil eye coasters! these made me very nervous because of how streaky the underglaze is! so i did the tedious task of re-coloring in around my sgraffito lines of my [redacted] coasters. clear coated them and crossing my fingers. these coasters are also too thin, two of them are too warped to use as coasters so ill have to figure out what to do with them. maybe drilling a hole (carefully...) so i can hang them up somewhere? the [redacted] coasters are like twice the thickness so i don't think they'll be warped as bad thankfully.

i also. made. mesopotamian foot bowl :) i did not have a reference image at the time because that happened to be when the t mobile towers went down for a few hours last saturday so i kinda just freeballed it but he looks. so silly i love him. i think im gonna have to modify him, i was chatting with the studio owner about it and she was like "if you threw that bowl on a wheel you should hollow the legs out, wheel pottery twists slightly as it dries and that plus the drying rates being different will make them just pop right off", which, i can always glue them back on! but i should give him the best odds possible. bonus lil tushy

i made a BIG BOWL !! it's not really clear from the image but it's the most clay i've ever thrown at once, i think it's like. 2.5 lb?? i didn't actually weigh it first oops i should weigh it. but it's like a foot across at the top. i put it on little ball feet to use as some sort of display bowl i think.

and there's one more bowl that is really unremarkable so no picture for now.

fiber art: made a fucking. magic the gathering card cozy for a friend that my local mtg group is putting together a care package for. it's so fucking stupid i love it. not gonna post a pic of the front, it's just a dark red border to hold the card in. i might outline the swamp symbol with matching embroidery floss (or maybe navy??) to make it pop more, might also sew a small square of fabric on the inside to hide the loose ends. colors were chosen to match his main commander which is braids

eating: FINALLY finished the gyudon. um . didn't cook many more recipes. i was going to do one pot chicken meatballs with greens and deb smittenkitchen's corn bacon and parmesan pasta last night but i spent two hours wandering walmart like my ancestors wandered the desert and came home and just had leftovers lol. the cooking will commence......today after i post this and go home.

misc: the midwest is hot this week! fml! on the plus side i don't think my average energy bill in my new place will be worse than my old one despite the worse insulation based on the mid-cycle energy report email i got, on the minus side now i am not splitting that cost so technically it feels more expensive :( thankfully i have finally been finishing the process of closing my dad's accounts so i will have a little padding in my bank account, plus i think i am supposed to get the fellowship i won deposited soon?? shrug. i booked some flights using credit card points that in retrospect i should have booked with Money because of that fellowship but oh well. i am still in the Everything Is So Expensive stage of moving as i finish getting furniture and miscellaneous home goods, hence the two hour walmart wander yesterday. i still need a couch. i think i am getting a frat house walmart futon for like $150 just because it's space efficient and won't break the bank and will be easy to sell when i move out. i should probably order that before i go visit home for 3 weeks ...... anyways. that's this tuesdaypost done and dusted.

[forthedancingandthethriving]

CPU: I don’t give a fuck.

Narrator: He gave many.

----

Waiter: Kids 11 and under eat for free.

Mario: What a coincidence! My niece and nephew here are 10!

Lil Coding and Lily: *visibly confused*

----

Nimbus: I like it when guys roll up their sleeves to show off their forearms.

Ambrosia, looking down to see he only has two arms: Fuck.

----

Lil Coding: You know what would be a good idea?

Cody: The opposite of whatever you’re about to say?

----

Plurality: Hey, take a look at this pretty artwork I found!

Elanore: This is a mirror. All I see is my face?

Plurality: *smiles*

----

Luigi: That doesn’t make any sense!

Mr L: It doesn’t have to, I have a monster truck!

----

Mario: Would you slap your dads for one million bucks each?

Lil Coding: Full force.

----

Meggy: I think my bread is done!

Meggy: *opens the oven as flames pour out*

Meggy: *closes the oven* I’m gonna give it a few more minutes..

----

Boopkins: No one ever says they don’t like you to your face.

Bob: You and I have led very different lives.

----

Supervisor: I fixed it!

Warden: What did you fix?

Supervisor: Everything!

*alarms start going off*

Supervisor: .. except that.

----

Luigi: Mario that was a stop sign!

Mario: I’ll stop twice on the way back.

----

Mario: Juliano isn’t alone! He has us!

Lily: Yeah! Even when he wants to be alone we won’t let him.

----

SMG4: Wait a minute, you don’t go TOWARDS the weird scary sound!

SMG3: Yes we do. We always do.

SMG4: I hate that about us.

----

SMG4: Why are you all out in the rain?

Root, with an umbrella: I like splashing in the puddles!

Lil Coding, holding a lightning rod: We're trying to get hit by lightning.

Plurality, also holding a lightning rod: We're trying to get supercharged.

----

Sage: One day, someone will think about us for the last time in eternity. Then we will be forgotten by the world and the universe.

Bowser Jr: Not if I eat the Mona Lisa.

----

Abyssal: How is "pretty boy" an insult to Overseer?! He's the prettiest goddamn boy there is!

----

Tulip: FUCK! I am full of LOVE! *kicks down a door*

----

Bob: When I get murdered can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Tari: What??

Bob: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Tari: Can we go back to the part where you said “when I get murdered”?

[selene-writes]

Hellfire- Bloody Mary part 2

Hey so sorry it took so long. I will be back to writing! Also, how would you feel about me writing fanfics for the boys?

Warnings for this chapter include canon level violence and cursing as well as some light steaminess. This is an 18+ fanfic

WC: 4734

Sam quickly pieced together that Gary Bryman, an eight-year-old boy killed in a hit-and-run, had been struck by a black Toyota Camry—the same model Jill drove. Returning to Donna's house, you examined a mirror that bore the name "Linda Shoemaker," the wife of Mr. Shoemaker.

"Why are you asking me this?" Donna's voice quivered as you questioned her about her mother's death.

"It's important," Sam replied gently, his eyes fixed on Donna. The atmosphere was tense in the Shoemaker family's living room, where Donna anxiously glanced between the three of you.

"Yeah, Linda was my mom," Donna finally admitted, her voice strained. "She overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident, and that's all."

"I think you should leave," Donna said firmly, her emotions raw as she stormed upstairs, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, that went smoothly," you remarked dryly, breaking the tension.

"Do you really think her dad could have killed her mom?" Charlie asked, turning to Sam and Dean with wide eyes. You exchanged a serious glance with your companions.

"It's possible," Sam nodded gravely, his expression troubled.

"Whatever you do, Charlie," you cautioned, looking directly at her.

"I won't say a word," Charlie interrupted firmly, shaking her head in understanding.

The room hung heavy with unanswered questions

You returned to the dimly lit motel room.

"If she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town," Sam mused, sinking into a chair beside Dean and you.

"There's nothing local, unless you’ve got a better idea—" Dean scratched his head, eyes fixed on the laptop screen.

"It seems like there's a pattern," you interjected, leaning forward.

"I was thinking the same thing," Dean agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

"Between Jill's hit-and-run and Mr. Shoemaker killing his wife—" Sam's voice trailed off as he glanced between Dean and you, his eyes widening.

"Both had secrets involving someone's death," you added, nodding in agreement.

"Right, there's a lot of folklore about mirrors," Sam continued, looking across the table at you and then Dean. "They reveal lies, secrets, they’re supposed to be a true reflection of your soul. That's why it’s bad luck to break them."

"Maybe if you have a deep, dark secret where someone died, Mary sees it and punishes you for it," Dean suggested, nodding along with Sam and you.

"Whether you summoned her or not," you added, chewing your lip in contemplation.

"Take a look at this," Dean said, gesturing towards the laptop screen. He printed out several pictures and handed them to Sam. You leaned in next to Sam, examining the images. They depicted a woman in a white dress standing near a mirror, with bloody handprints smeared across it and the word "Tre" scrawled in blood.

"Looks like the same handprint," Sam remarked, studying the pictures in his hands.

"Her name was Mary Worthington," Dean read aloud from the computer screen. "An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana."

You decided to leave first thing in the morning to go and talk to the officer in charge of Mary's case. Sitting alone in your dimly lit motel room, a sinking feeling crept in as you realized you had left your journal in the boys' room. Like John Winchester and your adoptive father, you meticulously chronicled the monsters you encountered on your hunts.

With a determined breath, you approached their door and knocked. Initially, there was silence, but then Sam opened the door, shirtless and clad in only sweatpants.

"Oh," you muttered, slightly taken aback. "Sorry, is this a bad time?"

Sam hesitated for a moment, then relented. "No, it's fine. Come in. Deans in the shower," he said, stepping aside to let you into the room. The air felt thick with unspoken tension as you passed by him, noting your journal lying on the table.

Walking over to retrieve it, you stole a glance back at Sam, who was hurriedly throwing on a t-shirt. His face contorted with a mixture of discomfort and guarded emotion.

"Sam—" you began cautiously, uncertain how to break the silence.

"Jane, I really am not in the mood for any pep talks," he interrupted tersely, his frustration evident.

You bristled slightly, crossing your arms defensively. "Fine by me. I just wanted to say... I'm here for you. You don’t need to go through this alone," you asserted, meeting his eyes squarely.

There was a tense silence as Sam regarded you, his expression unreadable. Without warning, he pulled you into a tight embrace, catching you off guard with the intensity of his need for comfort.

"Thank you," he murmured against your ear, his voice thick. You held him in return, feeling the weight of him pressing against you.

The intimate moment was abruptly shattered by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Dean emerged, clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist. You and Sam quickly disengaged, awkwardness settling between you like a heavy blanket.

You held up your journal in a feeble attempt to diffuse the tension, mumbling a quick excuse before retreating to your room. Alone in the darkness, you replayed the encounter in your mind, the unresolved tension between you and Sam lingering heavily on your thoughts as sleep eventually claimed you.

"I was on the job for 35 years," the detective said, his voice carrying the weight of decades spent unraveling mysteries. You had driven to Indiana to meet with him, a seasoned investigator on Mary Worthington's unsolved murder case. The detective, around seventy years old, continued, "Detective for most of that. Now everyone packs it in with a few loose ends." He looked down solemnly. "But the Mary Worthington murder, that one still gets me." His gaze lifted, meeting yours.

"What exactly happened?" you asked, your eyes fixed on the weathered face of the seasoned detective.

"You said you all are reporters?" He narrowed his eyes, glancing at Dean and Sam standing behind you.

"We know Mary was 19, lived alone, won beauty contests, dreamed of leaving Indiana to become an actress," Sam stated, meeting the detective's gaze. "And we know on the night of March 29th, someone broke into her apartment and brutally murdered her, gouging out her eyes with a knife."

"That's right," the detective affirmed with a slow nod.

"Sir, when we ask you what happened, we want to know what you think happened," Dean's voice added from behind, his tone direct yet respectful. You kept your focus on the detective, waiting for his response.

He sighed heavily, then gestured for you to follow him to his office. He retrieved a worn folder from a cabinet, placing it on his cluttered desk. "Technically, I’m not supposed to have this," he confessed, flipping through the papers until he found a photo and pointed. "See that? T-R-E? Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer."

"Yeah?" you replied, studying the photo closely.

"There was a local man, Trevor Sampson," the detective continued, pulling out a faded photograph. "He was a character around here. Always had a smile for the ladies." The image showed Sampson in sunglasses and a suit, raising a glass in a toast.

"You think he did it?" Sam inquired, his brows furrowing with concern.

"I can't say for sure," the detective admitted, shaking his head. "But Mary's diary hinted at an affair with someone she referred to by the initial 'T.' Her last entry suggested she planned to reveal it to 'T's' wife."

"Why do you suspect Sampson?" you pressed, searching the detective's face for clues.

"The way her eyes were mutilated... it was almost clinical," the detective explained, his expression pained. "But without prints or witnesses, we couldn't nail him."

"Is he still alive?" you asked, leaning forward with anticipation.

"No, he passed away some years back," the detective replied, sinking into his chair wearily. "Mary's last moments, it seems she was trying to expose his secret."

"Where is she buried?" Sam questioned softly; sympathy evident in his voice.

"She wasn't buried," the detective admitted gravely. "She was cremated." The news hung heavy in the air, complicating your investigation.

"What about that mirror?" Dean interjected, pointing at a photo of the crime scene. "Has it led to anything?"

"It was returned to Mary's family long ago," the detective confirmed, leaning back in his chair.

"Do you have her family's contact information?" you asked, hoping for more leads.

The detective shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid I lost touch with them over the years."

"Thank you, Detective," Sam said appreciatively. 

You were driving down the highway in the Impala, the rumble of the engine filling the car as Dean focused on the road ahead. Sam sat in the front passenger seat, his expression tense as he listened intently to the voice on the phone.

"Alright, thanks," Sam said, flipping his phone shut with a frustrated sigh.

"So?" Dean prompted, casting a quick glance at you in the rearview mirror. You met his gaze, waiting for Sam to share the latest update.

"That was Mary's brother," Sam began, his voice grave. "The mirror had been in the family for years until he sold it a week ago to a store called Estate Antiques in Toledo."

"So, wherever the mirror goes, Mary goes?" You interjected, looking up at Dean.

"Her spirits definitely tied to it somehow," Sam confirmed with a nod.

"Isn’t there an old superstition that mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean mused, glancing over at Sam.

"Yeah, there is," Sam replied thoughtfully. "When someone died in a house, people used to cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn’t get trapped."

"Mary dies, it draws in her spirit," You added, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, but how could she move through hundreds of different mirrors?" Sam questioned, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it," Dean declared firmly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

As you continued your discussion, your phone suddenly rang, interrupting your conversation. You fished it out of your jacket pocket and flipped it open, hesitantly answering, "Hello?"

On the other end, you were met with a panicked voice. It was Charlie, sobbing uncontrollably.

You drove to Charlie's house as quickly as possible and brought her back to the motel. Once there, you and the brothers sprang into action, covering all the mirrors and reflective surfaces with towels and sheets. Charlie sat on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head buried in her arms, shoulders shaking with sobs.

"Hey, it's okay," you said softly, sitting down beside Charlie and gently placing a hand on her back. "You can open your eyes."

Sam joined you on the other side of Charlie, his voice gentle and reassuring. "You're going to stay right here on this bed. Don't look at any glass or anything else that has a reflection, okay? As long as you do that, she can't get to you."

"But I can't do that forever," Charlie replied in a shaky voice, lifting her tear-streaked face slightly. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" Her voice broke into another sob.

"No, not anytime soon," you reassured her, shaking your head and continuing to rub small circles on her back. Dean sat down near you; his expression serious as he focused on Charlie.

"Alright, Charlie, we need to know what happened," Dean urged gently, his eyes fixed on the distraught girl.

"We were in the bathroom," Charlie began, rocking back and forth slightly as she stared down at the bed. “Donna said it.”

"That's not what we're talking about," Dean interrupted gently but firmly. Charlie looked up at him, tears falling freely down her face.

"Something happened, didn't it? A secret where someone got hurt," Dean probed, his voice soft but insistent. Charlie remained silent, and you exchanged glances with Sam and Dean before turning back to her.

"Can you tell us about it?" you asked, tilting your head slightly so Charlie could see your face. Her lip trembled as she struggled to find the words.

"I had this boyfriend. I loved him, but he scared me too, you know?" Charlie's voice was barely above a whisper as she recounted the painful memory. "One night at his house, we got into a fight. I broke up with him, and he got upset. He said he needed me, that he loved me." Her voice broke, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "He said, 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm going to kill myself.' And you know what I said?" She looked at each of you in turn, her gaze pleading for understanding. "I said, 'Go right ahead.' And I left."

A heavy silence hung in the room as Charlie's confession sank in. None of you knew quite what to say, the weight of her words filling the air. You continued rubbing circles on her back.

"How could I say that?" Charlie choked out, her body trembling with emotion. "How could I leave him? I just... I didn't believe him."

"Her boyfriend killing himself, it isn’t really her fault," you spoke up from the backseat, breaking the heavy silence in the Impala.

"Spirits don’t exactly see shades of gray, Jane," Sam replied quietly, his gaze fixed on the rain-slicked road ahead. The windshield wipers beat back and forth rhythmically, matching the cadence of his thoughts.

You were en-route to the store where the cursed mirror was located, intent on destroying it once and for all. The rain poured relentlessly outside, adding to the grim atmosphere.

"Charlie had a secret, someone died. That's good enough for Mary," Sam continued, glancing back at you through the rearview mirror. You nodded in agreement, understanding the gravity of the situation.

A tense silence fell over the car for a moment before Sam spoke again, his voice laced with concern and determination. "You know, I've been thinking... It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."

"Why? What do you mean?" Dean asked, turning to his younger brother with a furrowed brow.

"Mary’s hard to pin down, right? She moves from mirror to mirror. Who’s to say she won’t just keep hiding in them forever?" Sam reasoned, his eyes darting between Dean and you. "I think we should try to pin her down, summon her to the mirror, and then smash it."

"Who’s going to summon her?" Dean questioned, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he kept his focus on the road.

"I will," you declared firmly, clenching your jaw with determination.

"No, I will. She’ll come after me," Sam countered, his voice equally resolute. Dean’s knuckles turned white from the force of his grip on the wheel.

"Okay, you know what, that’s it," Dean abruptly announced, swerving the Impala to the side of the road and bringing it to a stop. Sam fell silent as the car idled, tension thickening in the confined space.

"This is about Jessica, isn’t it?" Dean finally asked, turning fully to face Sam.

"Sam, what happened wasn’t your fault," you interjected softly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Why don’t you take your own advice?" Dean shot back, turning to look at you sharply. You met his gaze, your jaw clenched in frustration.

"You think that’s your dirty little secret, that you killed her somehow," Dean continued, his tone somber yet insistent. Sam's expression remained stoic, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil within.

"This has got to stop, Sam. The nightmares," Dean paused, glancing at you meaningfully, "and calling out her name in the middle of the night—it's going to kill you," he added, his voice tinged with concern. He looked at you through the rearview mirror. "Both of you."

You looked away, unable to meet Dean's intense stare.

"If you want to blame something, blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don’t you take a swing at me? I’m the one that dragged you away from her," Dean said bitterly, shaking his head.

Sam met his brother’s gaze evenly. "I don’t blame you, either of you," he responded quietly. You glanced at Sam in the mirror, seeing the sadness etched in his eyes, and felt a pang of disbelief.

"You shouldn’t blame yourself, Sam. There’s nothing you could’ve done," Dean insisted, gesturing toward his brother with a mix of frustration and compassion.

"I could’ve warned her!" Sam suddenly burst out, his voice cracking with emotion.

"About what? You didn’t know it was going to happen. Besides, this isn’t a secret. We know all about it," Dean pointed out, gesturing toward you. "It’s not going to work with Mary anyway."

"You guys don’t," Sam countered, his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding your eyes in the mirror.

"We don’t what?" you asked, speaking up, your confusion evident as you looked at Sam through the mirror. He met your gaze for a fleeting moment, then turned toward Dean.

"What are you talking about?" Dean demanded, his brows furrowing in confusion and concern.

"Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret," Sam replied evasively, shaking his head. Dean leaned back in surprise, turning to glance at you in the mirror. Your heart sank as the weight of Sam’s words settled in.

"No, I don’t like it. It’s not going to happen," Dean stated firmly, pointing a finger at Sam.

"That girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. Who knows how many people are going to die after that? We’re doing this," Sam asserted, his voice unwavering with resolve. Dean turned to his brother, narrowing his eyes with a mix of frustration and concern.

"You’ve got to let me do this," Sam insisted, his gaze shifting from Dean to you.

"Jesus, Sam!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with frustration. "Enough is enough. You don’t have to do this. I’m sure the three of us all have secrets where someone died, so stop with the self-degradation!"

Sam and Dean both looked at you in stunned silence at your outburst.

After a tense car ride, you finally arrived at the antique store. Sam skillfully picked the lock, and as you entered, a chill ran down your spine. The interior was dimly lit, filled with an unsettling number of mirrors reflecting the faint light.

"Great," you muttered under your breath, your annoyance palpable. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo of the mirror they were seeking. Sam directed his flashlight onto the photo, and you leaned in close beside Dean to get a better look. The photo depicted a large, ornate gold mirror with swirling edges.

"Start looking," Dean instructed with a sigh, and Sam took the lead, guiding you and Dean deeper into the store. As you scanned the surroundings, you couldn't help but voice your concern.

"Maybe they already sold it?" you called out to Sam, who was a few steps ahead.

"I don't think so," Sam replied, his voice echoing slightly in the eerie silence. You glanced at Dean, who nodded in agreement. Sam's flashlight suddenly illuminated something on the ground, catching your attention.

You and Dean hurried over to where Sam was standing. There, before you, was the mirror from the photograph. Dean held up the picture for comparison.

"That's it," you confirmed, peering down at the photo and then back at the mirror.

"Are you sure about this?" Dean asked cautiously, turning to look at Sam, who handed him the flashlight in response. The three of you approached the mirror cautiously until you were standing directly in front of it.

"Bloody Mary," Sam murmured, staring into the mirror's reflection. He repeated the name twice more before turning to face you and Dean.

"Bloody Mary," he finished, a sense of solemnity in his voice. You exhaled deeply, nervously scanning the room for any signs of change. Suddenly, the creak of the door opening behind you made you jump, and lights spilled into the store from outside.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, praying it wasn't the police arriving.

"We'll go check that out. Stay here and be careful," Dean instructed firmly, gently pulling your arm towards the entrance.

SAMS POV

Sam stood before the mirror, a crowbar gripped tightly in his hand, poised to strike. A noise from behind startled him, and he spun around, scanning the room filled with mirrors that reflected his tense expression back at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her—a haunting figure in a blood-stained white dress, her face obscured by a curtain of black hair. Without hesitation, he swung the crowbar, shattering the mirror into a shower of fragments that scattered across the floor.

When he turned back, she appeared again in another mirror, relentless in her silent presence. Sam continued his frenzied assault on each mirror that trapped her reflection, driven by fear and desperation, until only one mirror remained unbroken—the one reflecting her. "Come on, step into this one," he muttered urgently, his heart racing as he stared at his own reflection, searching for any sign of Mary.

Suddenly, his reflection smiled—an eerie, unsettling grin that sent a shiver down his spine. Blood began to trickle from its eyes, and Sam recoiled in horror. A searing pain surged near his eyes, and he let out a groan, dropping the crowbar which clattered loudly to the ground. The pain spread to his chest like a vice squeezing his heart, agonizing and intense.

"You killed her," the reflection said with contempt. "You killed Jessica. You never told her the truth, who you really were."

Sam collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by the weight of his reflection's accusation. His chest tightened with agony, each breath a struggle against the inevitable.

“But it's more than that isn’t it?” His reflection asked, sneering at him. He could taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. “Those dreams you’ve been having about Jessica dying, screaming, burning, you had them for days before she died. You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe that they were just dreams, how could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her to die?!”

White hot, searing pain engulfed Sam's entire body as he lay on the ground. The agony was overwhelming, threatening to consume him entirely. Suddenly, the mirror shattered into a thousand pieces. Through the haze of pain, Sam glimpsed Jane and Dean rushing towards him. Dean held a crowbar tightly in his hand, evidence of their struggle.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, kneeling beside him. Jane reached him moments later, her hands gently gripping his shoulders as she checked him over for injuries.

"Are you okay?" Jane asked softly, concern evident in her voice as she tried to wipe the blood from his face with a trembling hand.

"Yeah," Sam managed hoarsely, his voice strained. He felt drained, every movement an effort.

"Come on, come on!" Dean urged, pulling Sam up with effort. Sam felt dizzy, his legs unsteady beneath him. Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulder for support, while Jane mirrored the gesture on the other side.

Dean and you struggled to drag Sam forward. Dean had initially tried to bluff his way out of the situation by pretending he was the owner’s son, and you were his wife. But when that ruse failed, Dean resorted to a more desperate measure—punching the cops. Fortunately, there were only two officers, but even so, you were keen to put as much distance between yourselves and them as possible.

You grunted with effort, straining under Sam’s weight as you moved forward. Then, you heard a faint, unsettling sound—a soft, glassy clinking coming from behind you. Your heart raced as you turned around.

There, emerging from the mirror, was Mary. She moved toward you on all fours, her movements eerily reminiscent of the girl from The Ring. As she stood upright, an intense, searing pain shot through your entire body, leaving you gasping.

Her voice, a chilling whisper, cut through the agony. “You’re a freak. Deep down, you know something’s wrong with you. The dreams… everyone you couldn’t save… don’t you think there’s a reason?”

Her words echoed in your mind as you struggled, the pain threatening to overwhelm you.

Hot liquid streamed down your face as her voice echoed in your mind. You collapsed to the floor alongside Sam

You looked over and saw the boys, blood streaming from their eyes. To your right, a mirror caught your attention. Summoning every last ounce of strength, you staggered toward it, grabbing it with trembling hands. You held it up, positioning it so that Mary would be forced to see her own reflection.

Fresh blood flowed from her empty eye sockets as she dissolved in front of you, her form disintegrating into broken mirror shards.

You threw the mirror aside, the sound of its shattering echoing in the room. The intense pain that had gripped you was now gone. With a groan, you pushed yourself into a sitting position and turned to check on the boys. They looked as worn and battered as you felt, their faces reflecting your own exhaustion.

You scanned the room for any sign of her, but there was nothing—she was gone.

“Sam? Jane?” Dean’s voice was rough, filled with concern, from where he sat beside you.

“Yeah?” Sam and you responded in unison.

“That’s got to be like, what, 600 years of bad luck?”

“So this is really over?” Charlie asked from the back seat of the car, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty. You were pulling up to her house, ready to drop her off.

“Yeah, it’s over,” Dean confirmed, giving a reassuring nod. Charlie’s face lit up with a relieved smile as she opened the car door and started to step out.

Just as she was about to walk away, Sam called out, “Hey, Charlie?”

She stopped and turned back, curiosity in her eyes. “Yeah?” she asked.

“About your boyfriend’s death,” he began gently, “you should really try to forgive yourself. No matter what you think you could have done, you probably couldn’t have stopped it. Sometimes, bad things just happen, and it’s not always within our control.” He let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Dean and you exchanged glances through the rearview mirror. Dean’s eyes met yours momentarily before he shifted his focus back to the road. You lowered your gaze, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between you.

Charlie gave a slow nod. Without another word, she turned and walked back into her house, the door closing softly behind her.

“Good advice,” Dean commented, his eyes lingering on his younger brother with a hint of approval.

Sam offered a bittersweet smile, his own grief evident. The car fell into a silence, each of you lost in thought.

“Hey, guys?” Dean’s voice broke the silence as you left town.

“Yeah?” you responded, glancing at him briefly. Sam, who had been absorbed in his book, looked up, curiosity etched on his face.

“Now that this is all over,” Dean began, “I want you to tell me what your secrets are.”

You turned your gaze to the window, struggling with how to respond. How could you explain something when you barely understood it yourself? Your nights were filled with unsettling dreams, and during the day, you often saw things that weren’t there. Lately, you had even caught glimpses of your own glowing red. It was overwhelming and confusing.

Before you could find the words, Sam spoke up, his voice steady. “Look, Dean, you’re my brother, and Jane, you’re my best friend. But there are some things I need to keep to myself.”

Sam’s gaze was intense as he spoke, and his words made your stomach churn with a mix of anxiety and guilt. 

You nodded slowly, understanding but feeling slightly hurt. Dean’s eyes remained fixed on the road, his expression unreadable.

“You’ll know eventually,” you said softly, hoping your words would offer some reassurance. Dean turned his head slightly, giving a small, resigned nod in response.

As you looked out at the road ahead, the steady hum of the Impala’s engine filled the silence. You noticed Sam’s reflection in the window, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The sight made your heart ache, but you chose to keep your focus on the horizon, letting the music from the Impala’s stereo drown out your thoughts.

In God we Trust

Salt turns to rust

Ashes from Eden

and bone into dust

[cuddl3s4shur1]

Thought You Could Get Away

Yandere Shuri x Friend Black fem

Summary: As you try to get the Dora Miljae to understand you and what you saw . Yet they don’t listen to you at all.That leads you to take matters into your own hands. Which leads you in a facility. You are escaped from shuri but not for long before you where kidnapped.

Authors Note: Enjoy this story and yeah

Timeline:After Wakanda forever

One shot or series: Series

Taglist: @tuesdaylovesu(wifey fr) @letitias-fav @writesbyriri @ziayamikaelson @locoforshuri @xxmilli @lunax0654 @niaalove @atssukoo @malltake12 @secretgyals @randomhoex @shuriislut @shuri-my-love @2k7-sparkles @yvxmpire @womenlxver @saintwrld

If you want to be added to the Taglist feel our form

Part 1 Part 2:Power Part 3

ㅤㅤ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ˖ ☞ ࣭ ࣪ ᩠ ֗ ✦ ࣭ ࣪ ˖

Y/n’s Pov

“You have to believe I’m not fucking crazy it was queen shuri “ you yell at some random Dora Miljae. “People who’s crazy say there not crazy so ma,am be honest “I am being honest if you would stop having your head up your ass you would see that MY BEST FRIEND WAS KILLED BY QUEEN SHURI IM NOT MAKING SHIT UP” you tell at them. You can tell they didn't care at all they weren't going to believe you because being honest she's the queen. Why would they think she's a murderer? “Ma, am we are trying to help you-” you cut them not wanting to here them anymore. “If you were trying to help me you would try to look for clues so you're not helping me “ you say snapping at them. You weren't going to let this case be unsolved.”Ma, am we cant help you if your lying and yelling and or screaming” they say trying to calm you down. “Mhm ok whatever you say rolling your eyes at them. “I and my friend have bracelets so if she needs helps I will get an alert I got the alert and went to the location to see queen Shuri dragging my friend. “ you say as you have a tear down your face. “Lady we told you to stop lying this is the 15 time you have lied on if you lie again we will have to take you to a cell. “Fine I’ll just leave “

You left the Dora Miljae report center and took matters until your own hands . You where going to go to the palace they where having a meeting so this was them time to spread the word.

You wore a black suit it was like your power color. You needed the power color because you had to be in power about sharing this moment in your life. Thinking about how your friend ari almost became 6 feet deep hunts you.

(Outfit idea you can imagine whatever)

You knock on the door where the meeting was held . You hear someone makes the way to the door. “Are you supposed to be here “ a Dora Miljae questions you. “Yes I have a statement that is needed” you exclaim. “Come in” they say as they wait for you to walk in . You walk in and stop at the center instead of sitting down

“There is a murder in this room. You may know that recently a murder has been rooming the streets of wakanda. But did you know that a day ago that murder would tried to kill my best friend Ari Simmons. I’m going to tell the story from the beginning. I was on the phone with queen shuri and I told her something that happened at work . I ended the call and watched tv for a good 3 hours until I got a notification from my friend. She sent me her location. I went to the location to see the person in all black . They where about Shuri’S height and I asked a question “what are you doing with my friend “ and than SHURI responded with “I can explain” you fellow queen is a murder of more than my bestfriend but the other people who have went missing “ you say as you end your statement .

“Gaurds take her away” shuri yells . “You’re mad that I’m right “ . You make your final statement before the gaurds dragged you out of the palace.

The two Dora Miljae from earlier where your drivers to some place. “We told you if you did anymore radical statements we would take you cell but you crossed the line we’re taking you to a mental health facility “ they say yelling at you.

The Dora Miljae forces you to walk in the facility. You put up a 0 fight if you did it would make it worse . You walked into the entrance and see a young lady standing. Infront of you . You gesture the two lady’s to get off you. “You must be y/n” the lady says with a smile . “Oh yes that’s me “ you exclaim faking a smile. “Well looks like I have to give you a tour “

The young lady gives you tour and tells you your daily schedule . “This will be your roommate and your room” She says as she opens the room door. You see a guy laying on the twin sized bedroom.

You walk into the room and take a seat on the other twin bed. “So what are you in here for “ the guy says as he turns around . “Being honest I’m in here for telling the truth of a murder “ you say annoyed . “Looks like that makes 2 “ you look at the guy more “kev?” You question the guy . “Y/n” he asks back at you. You two get up to hug .

For the next couple minutes you and kev told why you were in here and what was going on.

“Looks like the duo is back as where here to start chaos” kev explains. “You know it “ you say smiling.

“So how’s your powers going “ kev asks . It was only a couple people who knew .”it’s been hard try to keep in under wraps but you know I rarely use it “ you explain to kev.

You had powers for the darkness with the power you had more speed and strength when using it. The darkness also found you as the owner of the dark so it would protect you . You could also use it to manipulate your surroundings so if you where in any bad situation that situation would become bad for the other .

“You barley using it is good but what if just comes out” he says getting scared.

With your powers if you don’t use is comes out during a random time you can tell when it’s going to happen .

“I should be good for a good minute” you say ending the convo . The young lady from earlier opens the door “Y/n someone would like to talk to you” You roll your eyes hoping it’s not who you think it is.

You make your way to the visiting center . You see a empty table with queen shuri sitting on the other side.

“Excuse me can I go back to my room I don’t want to talk to my visitor” you exclaim to the young lady. “Y/n I recommend that you talk to the young lady she may want to help you get out” the young lady says as she smiles.

You walk over to the table and sit across from shuri.” What do you want “ you ask her confused. “Y/n let me take you home “ she says trying to be nice . “No shuri I’m not going anywhere with you” you spat at her.”Y/n you need me to protect you and I can’t protect you if your in this place” she says acting like she cares . “I’d rather be in the facility than be with you” you get up from the chair and you go back to your room.

“Kev We gonna break outa this mf “ you say as you walk in the room.”Where we gonna go” he asks you. “We’re going to go to my place and where going to have to leave wakanda I’m not going to stay here knowing I basically have a stalker “ you exclaim. “Alright”

You and kev thought of the plan and how you guys where going to breakout .

“So we got a plan” you ask kev with a smirk. “Hell yeah” he says.

The plan know started now

Shuri’s Pov

“CHECK HER HOUSE CHECK IT FOR CLUES ON WHATEVER AND AFTER YOUR GOING TO BREAK IN THE FACILITY AND GET HER AND KILL THE KEVIN GUY” I yell at the guards . “DONT JUST STAND THERE GET TO WORK” I spat yelling at my team

Y/n she was beautiful a angel she was my sunshine. And I would anything to make her mine. I killed people for her yet she doesn’t even care. She cares for someone else . Her old friend Kev. I don’t get what she sees and him. So that means I have to get him away from her.

“Ms. Shuri…” A quiet lady calls my name . “What “ I ask confused on what she wanted to tell me . “Y/n and the kev guy broke out the facility and they don’t know where she is “ . “If you don’t find her I will you like I did the others “ I say yelling at the lady . “I’m- I’m sorry Ms. Shuri “ . “Send out a amber alert and searching for her as we speak”

Y/n’s Pov

As I look at my apartment from afar I see Dora Miljae coming out of the complex . “Where not going to go to my apartment where going to have to go by foot- “ you stop talking to kev as hands cover your mouth.

You start to scream but it’s muffled. You begin to use your powers against the person even though you put up a fight until you stopped

You lost kev but you also hoped he was alive because if it was up to Shuri (which it is)he’s going to end up

Dead

[sumikatt]

i still see ppl horny posting and reblogging memes and its like. idk. yeah good for you i guess and its your blog and do whatever u want but idk i find myself feeling like i’m failing for even liking a joke post right now.

i am aware this is very “Selfish: This Man Found Time To Build A Birdhouse While JonBenét Ramsey’s Murder Is Still Unsolved” thinking but come on. doing a social media strike/blackout/spreading awareness in support for palestine is one of the easiest strike actions!!! at least rb a post or two and keep everything else to likes 😭

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 109 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence

Haha, funny coincidence! (I probably already said this in S1?) Julia's statement is MAG 9 and Trevor's (first) statement MAG 10. And now their mutual statement is MAG 109! Like... 9 and 10, 109?

Episode title "Nightfall" - On one side it seems to be late in the evening or already night when this recording is happening (the crickets) and on the other side it's of course a statement involving the Dark.

JON: "And, and, and if I run?" TREVOR: "I’m very much hoping that you do." Hunters wanna hunt, not catch.

JON "I read your statement, you know, you, you don’t kill people. Only monsters." TREVOR: "The line gets blurrier every day." Daisy does the same. Justifying her murders with ever lower and lower growing standards to what qualifies as a "human". I wonder where Jon would draw the line since it’s something that bothers him?

JON: "I, I mean, yes… but the situation has changed quite a bit…? Last I heard, you were dying of lung cancer." TREVOR: "I was." JON: "And now…?" TREVOR: "I’m not. (heh)" JON: "And that doesn’t strike you as… odd." TREVOR: "Not much I see these days isn’t “odd” somehow or other. Not gonna turn my nose up at one bit of it worked out well for me. I hunt monsters; my lungs don’t kill me. Seems like a fair trade. No big job, is it." There it is, the hypocrisy of the Hunt. The inability for self-reflection. Also I think it's unfair that the Eye let Gerry die of his cancer and Trevor was saved, that seems like a bad deal! (Yeah, yeah, something about choosing to stay human...)

JULIA: "What is it, do you think, that makes people so obsessed with horrific things happening to other people?" I know Julia exclusively talks about true crime here. Can't really talk about that specifically, cause I don't really watch much true crime stuff. It actually upsets me cause I know it was real. Especially cases that happened not too long ago. I've thought about people, who knew the victims, seeing videos on Youtube and how they must feel more than once. But there is a bit of an overlap in "fans" of true crime and horror and the supernatural (e.g. Buzzfeed Unsolved. It started out as a true crime show I think, but then got into ghost hunting). Have you ever noticed that there are a lot of people in the horror community, who have experienced something horrific happening to themselves? Some kind of trauma. There's a reason for that. On a meta level it's dealing with the trauma in a safe and contained way.

Just quickly throwing in that I love the crickets in the background.  So soothing, the sound of them. Reminds me of summer. 

JON: "Uh, um… (nervous laugh) Yeah… it’s, uh… it’s… what do you do for money?" JULIA: "(annoyed) Sorry?" JON: "I, I just, I-I doubt roaming around killing things pays all that well, What do you do to support yourselves?" Capitalism is the real enemy!

JON "Uh, yeah… o-o-okay, uh, Mustermann, or whatever your name is" Oh, Jon(ny)’s the only one saying Mustermann with the German pronunciation of the U - like moo-ster (m-uhn)!

MUSTERMANN: "Maybe not, but are you sure you know what’s listening in?" JON: "Do you?" MUSTERMANN: "No. But I don’t like it." TREVOR: "What’s he mean, 'listening in?'?" It may be a coincidence again that it’s a Stranger pointing out the tapes and questions who’s listening in via those (last time it was Nikola, MAG 101). The Stranger just really got a lot of screen time. Last episode I said I enjoy TMA providing canon explanations for.. just things which are necessary for a good narration. We already found out, why Jon’s acting his little heart out during the statement and why all those statements are written like the people have a degree in creative writing. And now the tapes are getting addressed more and more. Everything just clicks wonderfully into place and I love that in a story.

@a-mag-a-day​

[kulvefaggoth]

I had a stray thought asking myself if people in the ancient world all believed the story that Athena died in a freak work accident (she did work at the SCP foundation) or whatever the cover story was or if everybody instantly heard the news of her death and went "oh that girl was murdered 100%".

Which then led to the Very Normal idea of Azem and Hythlodaeus presenting the amaroutinian version of Buzzfeed Unsolved and doing an episode on that. 40 minutes of them presenting theories and suspects which of course is mostly them saying "Yeah Lahabrea did it. I've met Lahabrea before i feel he would murder people for a lot less." The convocation tried to get the episode pulled but something about "freedom of debate" kept them from being able to do it.

I'm just in love with the idea.