#kinda rufus? its just his hands. whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

askthekuvaqbrothers · 3 years

Note

I know you're still working on other prompts, but here me out... the boys meeting Wenzel and Toni for the first time. :)

“Have you considered schooling?”

Hermes withheld his mumbling, “I've…. Considered.”

Taking a tea break with Gizmo had become a regular occurrence during work, letting the two talk without having to take up more time in the day with official meetings. The town's service provider was a trusted confidant to Hermes, and not just because of patient confidentiality.

He'd already offered so much assistance in the wild world of child raising, and he'd probably continue to as the boys got older. There were just a few suggestions that Hermes couldn't see working. Like that one.

“See, I've tried a little bit of home learning, but only Cletus is taking to it. The other two lose interest quickly, cause disruptions, and before you know it the three are off doing something else."

“Well, a structured environment like a classroom, and peers of similar age, might just be the thing to change their behaviour. There aren’t many children in Kuvaq, but perhaps if they could make friends with one or two others?”

The encounter with Burnert and his daughter Toni came to mind.

“Hmm.”

“Even just as a trial. And they know who to call if there's trouble.”

“Well...”

Gizmo poured him another cup, giving his best reassuring smile. He’d been so trusted in all matters around his sons, but he was also a great personal confidant. It must have been years since he’d been able to have someone he could talk with, intellectually, and trust to understand him.

“I suppose we can try.”

---------

“Yeah we're going to school!!" Rufus bounced around the house, bumping into furniture and his family alike. When he shoved into Cletus’ shoulder, the green-haired boy shoved back.

“I bet you don’t even know what a school is.”

“Maybe so! But it means we're going somewhere new, somewhere outside, right Dad?!”

“That’s right, and because we’re going out, I need you all to be on your best behaviour. Understand?”

They all nodded, each at different levels of enthusiasm, with Argus pointedly looking at the floor.

“Good. Now hold hands, and let's go see what school is like.”

Cletus took Hermes' hand, the old man hunching a little further so he didn’t have to reach too far, while Rufus took his free hand and Argus took the remaining one to stop any wandering fingers.They left their small house and made their way across town, heading out the gates and down towards a smaller walled area which has its own gates, and gate keeper, who greeted them warmly.

“Hello there, would you happen to be the Herald family?”

“Yes, I’m Hermes and these are my sons Cletus, Ruf- Rufus stop that.”

He was swinging his arms wildly, to which Cletus was resisting and Argus was competing against. A measured frown got them to calm the motions.

“Cletus, Rufus and Argus. They’ll be trialing school today.”

“Wonderful! I’m Gary, Kuvaq’s main teacher. Most other kids are here already, so if you’d like to come in.”

Gary pushed open the gates, revealing a large flat and open area that looked to have most hazards removed. A large rectangle was drawn in the centre, while off to the left were rows of tables and chairs placed in front of a large board. Towards the back was a standalone building with a large window and an awning, and to the right was another that had various extensions added onto it. There were several children of varying ages playing within the space, once of which Hermes noticed was Toni, who was with another girl looking at a cactus.

“Were you planning on staying for the lesson Mr Herald?”

“Oh, as much as I’d love to, I must get to work soon. Though if there’s any trouble-”

“Haha, don’t worry, Gizmo has informed me of the situation. I keep flare guns for communication just in case!”

Gray pulled the gun from the waistband of his pants, grinning, before slipping it back into place. He then cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out for the children to gather. Hermes knelt to address his sons.

“Alright, now please, be on your best behaviour-”

Rufus slapped a hand on his mouth.

“Shushushu… shu. You have n’uttn to be worried about!” He slung his arms over his brother's shoulders, dragging them into an unwanted huddle, “We’ll be good!”

With a hopeful smile, Hermes drew them all into a hug, praying that nothing would go wrong.

--------

“This is boooring.”

Gary was going on and on about something, which Rufus could only define as completely uninteresting. They were sitting at the tables with all the other kids, who were also at different levels of interest and very much not. Cletus had his eyes focused forward, but his frown was clearly aimed.

“Maybe to a simpleton like you, I on the other hand-”

“Come on, let's ditch.” Rufus turned enough to begin kicking Argus’s chair, “Hey, hey, hey.”

Cletus rolled his eyes, “He’s asleep.”

They stared at their brother, who looked to be staring ahead, but his mouth was slightly open and a tiny drip of drool was forming.

“Drat, how does he do that? I have to use little sticks to hold mine open!”

“Just still still for once and listen to the teacher.”

Rufus faced the front with a pout, swinging his legs. If he swung them far enough, he could see his toes on the other side of the table. And if he spilled down and stretched his toes, he could nudge the chair in front of him. Which he did.

Several times.

Until the kid who was seated in it spun around and growled at him.

‘Growling? Who does that?’

So obviously he growled back.

“Stop that! You’re being embarrassing.” Cletus hissed.

“Alright class,” Gary clapped his hands, “Now we’re going to pair off to do a task. I will give each group a letter, and you’ll have to think of a word that starts with that letter. Then, you need to figure out a way to have everyone guess the word, without talking!”

Whispers went around the group. Argus’ head fell forward before it snapped back to alert, giving Rufus a giggle, to which Cletus further shushed him.

“Now, the pairs will be-”

-----------

Argus kicked at the dirt, completely ignoring his work partner. He wasn’t interested in whatever they were supposed to be doing, he would much rather be playing with his brothers, or napping. Though he napped best around his brothers so really, he just wanted to be home.

“Hey! Are you even listening?!”

The boy he’d been paired with (‘S... Se..Sick? Sike?’) was around a head taller than him, and really thin, probably making him a few years older. Though that didn’t mean anything really, just that he probably shouldn’t look like he was about to throw a tantrum.

“This a baby task, meant for dumb little babies. Since I’m clearly not the baby here, then you should do all the work.”

Argus regarded him for a moment, then went back to kicking the dirt, gazing around the yard to see what the other two were doing.

“Hey, pay attention when someone talks to you!”

Rufus looked to be enjoying himself, waving wildly at the tiny kid he was with. Cletus was with the girl they’d met the other day, but he didn’t look comfortable-

There was a hand gripping the top of his head.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?! Can’t do anything without your dumb brothers?”

Argus felt his eye twitch. The hand shook his head from side to side.

“I’m surprised I don’t hear rattling. Though, maybe afterwards I’ll go shake the other two to make sure you're not just sharing one bolt for a brain around.”

He grabbed the offending hand by the wrist in a vice grip, and looked up at the older boy.

“Don’t touch them.”

“Or you’ll what little baby-”

--------

Toni stared at Cletus.

Cletus… struggled to match her gaze.

It was really scrutinising.

He hadn’t even said anything to her yet, but here he was, stuck being judged by the girl who defeated all three of them.

“You really are a drago-”

Her expression became a glare.

“What was that?”

“...nothing.”

“Right.”

It softened again, and thankfully this time she turned her eyes to the sky.

“Sooo, what are we gonna pick?”

Cletus turned the metal square the teacher had given them in hand, until the line beneath the letter was at the bottom.

“We got the letter P.”

“Wow, I’m kinda surprised you knew to do that.”

“Someone in the family needs reading comprehension.”

“P… Hmmm…. Oh! I’ve got the perfect idea!”

“What, you’re not even going to ask for my thoughts?”

“I-” Toni was taken back a little by how offended he immediately looked, “...sure, what’s your idea?”

His smile was very proud, “Well, words are my speciality.”

Reading his fathers growing collection of books was one of his favourite things to do, making him much more versed in the world of words than either of his brothers, something he took great pride in.

“Well, for the letter P there is- plagiarize, prosecution, participate, profound, plutonium… pigeon.”

Toni just stared at him.

“And how exactly would we get people to guess those? I mean, maybe the last one, that would be funny, but the other ones...”

“If they can’t guess them, then we’re clearly too smart for them.”

She sighed.

“No, we’re going to do things my way. You just follow along.”

“Hu? But, you haven’t even said what word you thought of!”

She slung an arm over his shoulders, bringing him in close.

“Do as I say, or you’ll be playing ‘pigeon’, by yourself, in front of allll the other kids.”

He gulped, and nodded.

------------------------

“Hi!”

“H-hi.”

Rufus bent over at a 90 degree angle, staring directly into the face of his work partner.

"You're reeeeally small!"

He almost looked to get smaller when he sighed, which was even funnier. He couldn’t stop the grin covering his face, but he did manage to stick out a hand.

“I’m Rufus!”

He didn’t reach for it right away, adjusting his glasses and checking how far away the teacher was, before he accepted the shake.

“Wenzel.”

His whole arm was rapidly shaken.

“That’s a funny name!”

When he was finally released, Wenzel had to also adjust his hair and coat to straighten himself out. He had no idea what to make of this new kid.

“You look like you’d know a thing or two about funny.”

“Yeah I know all about fun! You wanna play?”

“We should be doing what the teacher asked.”

“Oh, right. What was that again?”

Wenzel tilted his head, watching the other boy curiously. He opened his mouth, but then reconsidered, instead holding up the letter square. Rufus just blinked at it.

“We have to pick a word, remember?”

Recognition, finally, as he waved his arms about, “An eff word!”

“Yes. And it has to be something we can pretend for others to guess.”

“Let’s pick something exciting! With energy!”

“Hmmm, energetic, f… what about fire? Teacher didn't say anything against using sound effects, so maybe-"

Rufus gasped.

"Great idea! It's like I thought of it myself! Or maybe I did, and I beemed it into your head- AH!” He grabbed his little round head, "We're connected Wenzel. With you as my sidekick, I’ll be unstoppable.”

“Sidekick-?!”

“Shush, say no more. I know exactly what you’re thinking now, and yes, it’s a great honor. Now we’ll just need a few things to do the best presentation ever!”

Wenzel wriggled from Rufus’ grip, stepping out of his arms reach for now.

“What ‘things’?”

“Well first I need a g-”

“CHILDREN. THIS IS NOT AN APPROVED SCHOOL ACTIVITY.”

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”

Both boys turned out the sudden shouting, looking to where all the other children were quickly gathering around Gary. Grabbing Wenzels hand, Rufus practically dragged his new friend to the scene, coming up behind their teacher to join the chanting mob.

“ARGH! Make him stop! Make him stop!!”

Gary was trying his hardest to simply push the two children apart, but when it proved useless he had to resort to using both hands to try to pry Argus’ teeth off the other boy's hand. When even that failed, Gary moved one hand to fumble for the flare gun, but had to drop it when Argus shifted his jaw to also bite down on the other invading fingers. Wenzel looked up at Rufus, who didn’t seem to care for the scene.

“Isn’t that your brother? Shouldn’t you do something?

Rufus was wholly focused on the gun on the floor, “Just what the presentation needs.”

“We won’t have a presentation if the teacher is hurt!” When he didn’t look convinced, Wenzel added, “Plus, you’d be showing off how cool you are to the whole class if you step in right now.”

Rufus finally looked at his short friend, then looked around the group. Cletus was watching beside Toni, both talking to each other, not looking like they were going to help out. He sighed, but looked a bit smug about it.

“Guess it all falls to Rufus to save the day.”

He stepped into the scene (while also grabbing the gun and slipping it into his belt pouch), and put himself between his brother and the others.

“Hey. You’re gonna ruin my chance to do a awesome presentation. Stop.”

He pinched Argus’ nose to get his attention. When they locked eyes, Rufus broke out his best pout, the one that alway got Dad to give him an extra snack. He knew that with any luck-

Argus let go, shaking his head to release Rufu’s grip, before spitting blood onto the ground. The boy he’d bit wailed, cradling his hand, and Gary took stock of his own injury, gaze flicking to the brothers in case of more violence. When it looked that Argus was now content with his actions, Gary stood tall to address the class.

“W-well, I hope you all take this as an example of what not to do during class. If you must bite someone, please do it off school property. Now, I’m going to take Sikke to see Gizmo. Argus, please see yourself to the timeout box,” He pointed to a little cage by the nearest building, “And the rest of you, keep working on your presentations until I return. Then we can all show off what amazing words we chose!”

With a grin, Gary left the school yard with Sikke.

-----------------

“I’m so sorry-”

“Please Mr. Herald, all things considered, a little biting should have been expected. A new environment can be stressful and scary to young children. I should have kept a closer eye on how he was reacting to others.”

Hermes wrung his hands, but tried to copy Gary’s smile. Yes, Argus had apparently come within millimetres of taking Sikke’s pinky finger off, but other than that (and a few nicks on Gary’s hand) the boys hadn’t caused any trouble. The school day had been mostly a success.

He’d made the choice to return with Gary after Gizmo had explained the situation, so he could scold Argus while the event was still fresh, and be able to watch Rufus and Cletus’ presentations before they headed home.

As they entered the yard, they found most of the children just playing their own games. When Gary pointed out the timeout box, they did in fact find Argus sitting inside, watching Rufus who was using the cage to climb up onto the building's awning. Wenzel was already on it, trying to help pull him up.

“Okay children! Back to your desks, it’s time to present!”

Once they’d gotten the two off the awning, Hermes collected Argus in his arms and stood where they could watch. Rufus wouldn’t stop squirming in his seat as each pair went up, though it was Toni and Cletus who went before him.

“Just like I said.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Cletus held up the letter square, Toni cleared her throat.

“We got the letter P. Please try to guess our word.”

He squatted down to set the square aside, then curled his arms over his head and stayed in that position. Toni began to mime; acting like she was carrying something, setting it down, moving something up and down, picking the first again, but it was heavier now, then she shuffled next to Cletus and pretended to pour it on him. Cletus then slowly unfurled, until he was standing tall with his arms in the air, face dead serious.

Rufus lost it, almost falling from his seat with laughter.

To his credit, Cletus scowled, but remained in his position. There were 'umm's and 'ahh's around the group, until the girl Toni had been originally playing with raised her hand.

"Plant!"

"You got it An!"

Toni went over and gave her a high-five, while Cletus went back to his seat, head held high. He bopped Rufus on the head for good measure.

"Nice choice of word and wonderful display you two! Okay, the next pair is Wenzel and Rufus."

"Finally!"

He launched from his seat, dashing to the front with Wenzel following as close as his short legs would let him. When they were both facing the class, Wenzel held the letter square as high as he could while Rufus addressed everyone.

"Our letter was Fff! Watch and be amazed at our presentation!"

Hermes shivered.

"Why do I feel like…"

Wenzel began to mime clicking to rocks together.

"Chk, Chk, Chk-"

"BWOOSH!"

Rufus whipped out the flare gun, firing it at the nearby building, where the flare landed and ignited something on the awning. It only took seconds before something else caught, and quickly the whole thing was alight.

Rufus grinned widely.

"GUESS! Go on, GUESS!!"

Gary leapt forward, moving to usher the children away from the growing inferno, while Hermes stood in shock, feeling years slipping off his lifespan. When Argus began tugging at his collar, he got enough sense back to step away.

"I can guess this one. It's fire."

"... Good job. I think that's enough school for now. "

#Deponia #Deponia Rufus #Deponia Cletus #Deponia Argus #Deponia Hermes #Deponia Gizmo #Deponia Toni #Deponia Wenzel #LONG POST #Deponia Fanfiction #Kuvaq Brothers #Deponia AU #PHEW #I should leave this for fresh eyes but also CONTENT

40 notes · View notes

enochianribs · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 of the Cabin AU is up now!

Read on Ao3 here, or under the cut.

(Reblogs appreciated!)

The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered. The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered.

“Mmm...great.” Another item on his to-do list.

Dean was willing to bet there were more leaks in the living room.

For a moment he debated allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep. It was all too easy to slip back to that dream again: blurry hands, soft mouths, quiet murmurs, everything he missed and everything he’d never had. Not really.

Rain gently pattered against the outside of the cabin, the storm grinding in from the East and then settling its haunches right over the hills to stay for the night. The sun was rising, and the pink sky cast shadows from the drops on the window pane, little spots phantom dripping down his sheets.

It was the first morning since he’d gotten to the cabin that he’d slept in past sunrise. Sluggishly, he sat up, diggin the heel of his hand into his eyes as a yawn fought its way out of his chest. He turned his head, and reached out with a hand to wake his companion, before reality caught up with him and his hand fell to the mattress, going through the ghost.

That’s right , he thought. His mouth tasted like ash.

If he laid there any longer his chest would become heavy, and his breaths ragged, so he tossed the covers off, and trudged over to the shower. The cold water bit through the fog better than anything else could, and he leaned his temple against the glass door waiting for it to heat up and fill the room with steam.

Normally, he’d air dry, but it was chilly and an urgency hung around him. He grabbed the bleach-spotted towel hanging sadly by the door towelled off quickly.

He wandered idly, picking his daily morning tasks up and dropping them before he’d complete them. Something pulled him around the house. He was forgetting something.

Dean was midway through folding the quilt and draping it on the sofa arm when they caught his eye.

Two large feathers sat in the middle of the massive dining table (he still wondered who had built and what they’d been thinking— the thing could seat the knights of the round table if necessary). Tugging the fridge door with one hand he reached blindly for the pot of coffee he kept iced, and nudged it closed with his knee, never taking his eyes off them.

They were captivating. He continued to stare as he poured himself a cup, spilling some of the coffee onto the counter. He’d forget to clean it up, and it would stain, but that was okay. If they asked, he was experimenting with wood staining.

Dean could examine them once he made himself some kind of breakfast. Those were the rules: remember to feed yourself, and then you can do whatever you want to with your day. Breakfast ended up being toast and jam, and he plopped it down at the end seat of the table, and reached for the feathers before he took a bite.

The color on the first one was so dark it looked heavy, but it was as light in his hand as any feather should be. He held it up and squinted, twisting his wrist back and forth. It caught the light and reflected a shimmering oil slick back at him. The colors shifted, hues iridescent.

At first glance it could be a raven’s, but it was at least four times bigger than that.

The second one was more muted, the black towards the base of it dappled into a brown and white, and it was downy soft where the other was sharp and precise. Yesterday he’d thought it was grey but better light proved that it was a grey-brown.

He’d assumed that it was from the same bird— creature , but now he wasn’t so sure. Dean didn’t know the first thing about birds. However, he knew several people who did.

▵▿▵

“Hey, Bobby. Can I talk to Rufus?”

“He’s kinda in the middle of some’in’, Dean.” The roll of his eyes was audible, as someone yelped in the muffled background. “Can I call you back?”

“Please?” Dean asked, grinning cheekily even though he wasn’t there to warm Bobby over in person.

Bobby made a disgruntled noise and paused, before sighing. “You’re doing the face aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. You never want to talk to me .”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Hm.” Bobby replied. Out of spite, he kept the phone next to his face as he shouted for his attention. “Rufus! It’s Dean.”

Ouch , Dean mouthed wincing at the volume, as he listened to the sound of two old men grumbling at each other before fabric shifted, and Rufus picked up the phone.

“He lives.”

A smile burst its way through Dean’s concentration. “Hey Ruf, gotta question for you.”

“Coulda called us sooner. We were beginning to wonder if you’d sold the cabin and moved somewhere warmer with pink flamingos.”

The image made Dean snort. Him at the beach? Unlikely.

“Nope.” Dean quipped. “Still here and freezing my ass off. You guys ever think about installing a damn heater?”

“And pay that bill? Hell no. We added a fireplace, what more do you want from us.”

Good ol’ crabby Rufus. “What do you know about birds?”

“A lot.” As per usual, he was being obtuse.

“Know of any big enough to leave behind two foot feathers?”

Rufus whistled. “Not in North America, unless you’ve got ostriches running around.”

“That’d be a negatory. So there’s nothing you can think of?”

“Nope. Did you find something, kid?”

“Holding one right now.”

“No shit.” He could hear the bewildered tone of his voice over the shitty connection. “Well, I guess keep an eye out. It’d be real hard for something that big to hide, and even harder for it to sit comfortable in those pine trees with the branches so dense. I’d say you’re about to make the biggest zoological discovery in North America in the past century. Keep us posted?”

“Will do.” Dean said, and he heard Rufus handing the phone back over to Bobby.

“Hope everything’s okay up there, Dean.”

“Everything’s peachy, honestly. Anyways—” He checked the clock on the stove. 8:30. The hardware store would be open in a half hour. “I’ve got some errands to run, so I’ll leave you to whatever it is a couple of old farts do in retirement.”

“Hey—”

Dean grinned to himself. “See ya, Bobby.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

The line went silent, and Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket, bobbing his head to the side in thought. Though he didn’t get a definitive answer, at least the call had eliminated the options of native fauna.

▵▿▵

At nine in the morning, Dean was usually one of a small line of people waiting outside Lafitte’s Goods to needle Benny’s brain for fixes and tools of the trade. Pamela was waiting against the brick wall, hand shielding the summer morning sun from her eyes, reading a 99 cent paper back with interest.

“Hey, Pamela.”

“Dean-o. Call me Pammy.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. But Pam works. I’m not your mother.”

“You call your mom by her first name?”

“Fair point. What’re you here for?” She nodded her head and bounced off the wall, as Benny unlocked the doors. A couple of grizzled old men shuffled in ahead of them, beelining it for the plywood.

Porch season.

“Roof’s got a leak.”

“Leak season.”

“Apparently. This is the third one since I got here.”

She squinted at him, like he was omitting something important, and popped the bubble of gum in her mouth. Dean started to itch under her scrutiny. He hated being studied like a lab rat.

What was the woman? A witch? Why was she peeling back layers of his get-up without warning.

Dean coughed, and used Benny’s presence as an excuse to wiggle out from under her gaze. “Gotta— yeah, see you.” Turning on his heel he fled towards the adhesives, face contorting with embarrassment.

Holy fuck, somehow he’d gotten even more awkward.

Dear god, help me.

Benny never pried unless Dean seemed interested in offering up information, and for that Dean was actually incredibly grateful. Most days he didn’t want to talk about anything, certainly not his past, but Benny and his bushy beard and warm eyes had managed to wiggle through his walls, just a little.

“Benny.”

Benny stared at him from behind the register, inquisitive expression considerably easier to cope with than Barnes' hungry expression. A friendly smile danced across his face as he assessed Dean’s no-doubt rosey cheeks.

“She’s got her claws in you, huh.”

Dean ducked his head, glancing sideways at the brunette woman still looking at the different kinds of rope. A tramp stamp peeked out from under the bottom edge of her tank top. Dean tapped his fingers on the pock-marked wood counter and turned his attention back to his friend. “Is she always like that?”

“Sure is,” Benny drawled, ringing up everything Dean had haphazardly shoved onto the counter in his escape. “You just happen to be the newest, prettiest , plaything in Pringle.” The burly man winked.

Pink crawled up Dean’s neck from his collarbones and spread into his cheeks once again. Christ, there was no escape from these people. Still stammering, Dean practically ran back to the Impala.

▵▿▵

The phone vibrated in his back pocket. By the third ring, Dean had parked Baby in her usual spot, and he struggled to tug it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID.

California.

He pumped the window down, the air getting warm inside the car, and he flipped the phone open, inhaling sharply. He should have called before now. Shouldn’t have let so much time pass. In the fall, he’d be too busy to take any of Dean’s calls anyways.

“Hello?”

“Dean?”

“Sammy.”

Several seconds of too-long silence passed between them.

“Where have you been?”

Dean swallowed, thick, guilt permeating the small space.

“Sorry, I just—” He didn’t have an excuse. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You still could’ve picked up the phone. I tried to call you about six times. You don’t always need to have something to say, y’know… It just would’ve been nice to know you’re still breathing.” His brother’s voice was basically a whisper at the end.

“I know.” Dean closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing shakily. “I know.”

“I had to hear it from Bobby. Dean—” Sam’s voice pitched up to that octave it always did when he was upset. “Dad’s gone again.”

Fuck.

“And that’s fine. It’s not like I’m ten and incapable of caring for myself but I thought— I thought he’d be back by now. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Shit, Sammy.”

“I think he’s fine. He sent a vague text a couple of days ago, it’s just with school starting in two months I get worried. Not even for him, just for us. I can’t pay for school myself, and I can’t afford to miss anything because of Dad. If my grades drop, I’m out.”

“I know.” God, Dean knew.

Sam was a late bloomer for college. The kid was brilliant, but he’d been dealt a bad hand, and it was a miracle Rufus and Bobby had invested in a saving fund for the two of them decades ago. At twenty-two, Dean knew that he’d already had trouble securing the scholarships. Stanford wanted the best and brightest, not the kid with seven schools on his high school transcript and an overabundance of unexcused absences.

The guilt piled up and perched itself on his shoulders until he sagged into his seat under the heaviness. It was his job to keep John out of trouble, not Sammy’s. And instead he’d run away from that responsibility.

The repair materials sat in the backseat, and his heart twisted in his chest. The meadow sat peacefully in the late afternoon sun, just across the short distance of woods, and it still kept its secret. He didn’t want to go back. Not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of independence.

“Look,” He could kick himself for how his voice cracked. “If John doesn’t turn up by the end of the week, I’ll come back. I’ll help. Promise.”

For what it was worth, a facet of his brother’s relieved sigh sounded apologetic.“Thank you, Dean. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Okay then.”

“Bye.”

“Talk to you soon, Sammy.” Dean’s jaw clenched involuntarily, as he flipped the phone closed and tossed it against the passenger door. His frustrated shout echoed between him and the trees, but he didn’t feel better.

Always this .

Historically, John would do something stupid and irresponsible and Dean would drop everythign to clean up the mess and no one would thank him. Not really. That was fine.

Family was supposed to break your heart.

▵▿▵

The leak proved to be an easy fix.

Dean fought the attic door that led to the roof, following the small staircase up until he was on the balls of his feet, head sticking out as he pulled himself onto it. The shingles were rough, cracked and damaged from the winters, and he scrapped the length of his arm against it.

The source of the leak took only a minute to find. Five or so shingles were missing, leaving nothing but the wood underneath, which did nothing but absorb any and all precipitation. The rubber sealant smelled terrible, and he gagged dramatically, almost dropping the metal can in the process. Done applying, he plopped his ass down, determined to see it dry properly before he went back inside.

Half assing things had always resulted in a stern talking to in the least, and it had been something he’d struggled with growing up, his mind yanking him a thousand directions until his head was spinning and John was disappointed.

Dean grit his teeth, purposefully dragging the raw scrape against the rough roofing, the burn biting through the thought, bringing him back down from that far off place he so frequently wandered to. He didn’t even know how he got there, but he found himself lost, shrunk down, smaller than the hand-me-down leather jacket he tried to fill.

From the roof he could see almost everything. It turned out that Rufus and Bobby’s cabin foundation was built onto a gentle slope.

The rain clouds had dissipated, migrating to the flat plains further south, and it left a crisp atmosphere behind. The sun poked through the remaining gargantuan cumulonimbus clouds, sunbeams gently caressing the grass. Grey mist rose from where the creek beds greedily absorbed the heat. It reminded him of the paintings of cowboys, sitting on a stallion, bathed in golden light, their backs to the audience, all the edges illuminated and throwing everything else into stark purple shadows.

The burn of the scrape subsided as a sense of peace settled Dean, his body melting into the shingles. An hour passed before his stomach growled, and he climbed back down for lunch.

▵▿▵

Tapping.

Tapping at the window pane only inches from his face.

Groggy and only slightly encrusted (gross) Dean opened his eyes and was met by dark blue ones, a tawny human hand pressed up against the glass.

Dean’s soul evaporated out of his body, back pressed to the headboard as he scrabbled for the small knife he kept under his pillow. Before he could look again, it was gone.He launched himself out of bed, so very entirely grateful that he’d had enough sense to go to sleep in his boxers and his worn-out threadbare Kansas shirt.

Holy hell.

Fingers trembling, he opened the window, leaning almost all the way out, hovering a few feet above the ground.A single feather slowly came to rest soundlessly on the pine-needle carpet. The view from the window remained unyieldingly motionless.

Black-eyed susans had begun to sprout in the shade, despite themselves, and now they quivered where they grew between the pine-roots even though the morning wind had not pierced through the woods yet.

Craning his neck, he glanced up, half expecting the last thing he’d ever see to be a terrifying bird man staring down at him like he was lunch. Nothing.

Dean practically fell out of his room, chanting under his breath in a poor attempt to calm himself down as he stumbled down the short hall to the living room.

It’s human.

“No,” Dean spoke to the picture frames on the walls. He had no idea what he was denying, but the situation begged to be denied. He paced back and forth in the living room, no doubt wearing the floor down despite the fact that he was wearing socks— the ones with the holes in the heel. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Oh my God, it was so very not okay.

Suddenly, the couch seemed like the perfect place to suffocate himself to unconsciousness. Someone else could deal with this.

No , he thought. You wanted this to happen, you dirty liar. Stop panicking and deal with it.

Wings was human- or at least partially human. He looked like a man. Dean’s thin eyelids fluttered closed, and the image was painted on the backside of them with crystal clarity. Square jawline, arrow-straight nose, curiously arched eyebrows… and the eyes . They were so blue. And they had been looking right at him. Watching him.

It was entirely ridiculous that his eyes overshadowed the massive lurking darkness behind him, of what had to have been his wings.

A human with wings.

This was crazy. Everything was crazy.

The way he saw it, there were two directions this could go: he could pretend he hadn’t seen anything, and this would be tucked away into the delusion box that he kept under lock and key at the back of his mind and he could grow old being none the wiser of whatever breach of reality this was, or he could go find it.

The first option was sounding real nice. Normal. Well adjusted.

He was well adjusted.

Besides, Dean wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream. this entire thing was a fever dream and he was in some hospital bed back in Lawrence, stuck in a coma. Dean pinched himself, viciously and stared at the white marks left on his forearm, helpless.

Nope.

“Okay.” He barked out a laugh.

He should call Jo.

After a few more minutes of pacing and hyperventilating, he decided against it. He would tell her— of course he would! —but when it came up.

The Harvelle’s were good people and they’d shown him nothing but kindness.

The situation had to be broached with care, or the small home he’d built in the life he wanted to live would topple in on itself, and the rubble and dust would drown him.

Trust issues were a problem of his, and he’d been aware of them since high school, when he’d had too many secrets to keep and any semblance of a support system was states away.

God, he knew the way he clammed up was obvious, but sometimes he surprised even himself. If he was being honest, there was a lot more to it than a strong need for privacy. Didn’t matter though. In the end, after all the nit-picking and self beratement, it boiled down to fear.

Jo could keep her mouth closed, but there was always a chance she’d accidentally tell someone, and there was a high chance it would be the wrong person. If he let it slip that this thing existed, who knew what would come packing. And he knew sooner or later, someone would bring the heat. Words got around easily in a small town like Pringle and he knew everyone would be at his door, wanting a chance to see the freak of the week.

Which… was a thing that existed. A human with wings, that called the small clearing his home.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He felt protective over the man, almost ferociously so.

The day’s hunting trip wasn’t happening— now Dean was paranoid.

What if he accidently shot him? Or scared him off permanently?

His stomach churned, acid and bile climbing their way up his throat. The burn was familiar. Half his childhood had been spent subsiding panic attacks and anxiety, calming down Dad or Sam or both at the same time.

▵▿▵

The tin echo of a gunshot managed to penetrate through the thick log walls of the cabin.In a heartbeat, he was scrambling for the ancient shotgun. The front door swung open, the little voice in his head told him to close it behind him, but his feet carried him quicker than his mind and so he left it swinging on its hinges at his back.

An anguished scream gargled its way from somewhere deeper into the woods, due south of the cabin. Rocks dashed the soles of Dean’s feat and he swore out loud, having forgotten his boots at the door.

Shit shit shit.

Someone was nearby, and they were ballsy enough to fire a weapon despite the illegality of hunting on private property. His mind raced at the same speed he ran towards it, a limp skewing his gate every few steps. Stray branches caught the sleeves of his shirt, tearing through the fabric as he refused to slow down.

It’s just a deer.

He knew better.

They’re just after a deer, or a bison that wandered away from the heard or an elk or something—

Another blood curdling scream erupted from amongst the pine, this one loud enough to rattle the crows out of their nests. They cawed, the sound of dozens of pairs of wings taking flight muting the pained groans.

He knew better.

Please— please. Not Wings.

He faltered over a boulder, panic overtaking muscle memory and skidded to a halt at the crest of a ledge. The scene below knocked the breath out of his chest, leaving a vacuum in its wake.

Campbell, one of the more elderly hunters of the area was standing over another tawny body. Giant black wings sprawled out, twisting and twitching in the dirt and mud, feathers slightly splayed underneath his back.

Campbell’s face distorted in pain, a tense moment passing before his wild eyes landed on Dean, the whites of his too visible, even from ten yards away. Blood pumped out from a wound on his neck, and he had a hand clamped down onto it, slick with red, he held a shotgun limply in his left hand, the butt of it dropped heavily to the ground.

Semi-satisfied that Campbell didn’t seem interested in shooting again, Dean fixated every ounce of attention on Wings and his breath hitched. Smeared across his mouth and chin was a copious amount of blood. He’d bitten Campbell. Dean’s heart swelled with pride.

Good .

His short encounter with Campbell prior had proved that the man was a bag of dicks, cocky and far too keen on the killing aspect of hunting. It skeeved Dean out then, and it certainly did now. Campbell was still looking at Wings like he was prey. Though no component of the scene begged to differ: the man was naked, teeth bared, but he was incapable of escaping, the gunshot wound in his abdomen bleeding him dry.

Dean leveled the end of his shotgun at Campbell’s head. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Campbell backed away from Wings, the muscles in his right arm tensed, like he wanted to put it up defensively, but it was necessary he kept pressure on the wound. It looked like Wings had gone for the jugular. “It attacked me, Winchester.”

“And?”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Dean would put money on the fact that he looked the part, he could feel his chest heaving, something akin to dull rage pumping through his veins. He prayed the tremor in his hand didn’t betray his hesitation. “I said move .”

Obeying his orders, Campbell stepped back, never taking his eyes off of the strange man. Agony flashed across his face where he laid in the dirt.In his hands, he held a silver blade. Wings looked from Campbell to Dean, expression visibly softening.

“Give me your coat.” Dean didn’t have much time, glancing at Wings, he saw that a red gleam of blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth and his eyes moved frantically. He slid down the slope and went to take off his jacket and remembered his was only in his boxers. “ NOW .”

Campbell shirked it off and threw it at Dean, staying exactly where he was. Moving quickly, Dean pressed the thick fabric to the wound, moving his other hand to the back side to see where the bullet went. There was no opening there, and he was thankful that Wings was naked. He could skip the sometimes detrimental process of removing his clothes to assess the wound better.

He tied the jacket around him and slid one arm under his legs and the other across his shoulder blades, lifting him up carefully. Dean had to get him back to his house immediately, before Wings lost too much blood.

One last time, he regarded Campbell. He felt the sneer tug his lip up, his voice like acid trying to eat through the other man’s bones until he was nothing. “Get the fuck off my property. And don’t tell anyone about this. He’ll be fine, not that you care. But you won’t be if I see you here again, or if I hear about this from anyone. Do I make myself clear?”

Samuel’s eyes darkened clearly at war with Dean’s threat, but his skin was taking on a pallor akin to lethal blood loss. He nodded curtly, acknowledging the agreement, at least for the moment.

Reasonably satisfied that Campbell wouldn’t shoot them in the back, Dean turned and left, the body draped over his shoulder too warm.Dean’s hand wrapped around, hand feathering over his taut side, avoiding the wound. He could feel his fingers wet with blood.

Wings was whispering something feverishly, though Dean couldn’t catch a word of it, his eyes glazed over with pain, searching the sky for something with a fervor of a religious man with hell hounds on his heels.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean murmured, straining to carry the both of them the distance to the cabin. “I’ve got you.”

Wing’s head lolled to the side, and his body went slack. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but Dean couldn’t afford to cry now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to get them inside safely. He swallowed the terror. He ducked and wove through the undergrowth, fearing that the drooping wings would catch on a branch or boulder.

The time it took until he could lay Wings down on his dining room table felt like hell had manifested on Earth, keenly able to feel life slipping away in his arms.

Once Dean managed to put Wings on the table without his head smacking the wood, he tore the kitchen apart for salt and a bowl of water and some clean washcloths, and sprinted to the bathroom, yanking the drawers out and emptying their contents onto the counter and sink until his eyes landed on the tweezers and isopropyl alcohol.

It wasn’t a perfect med kit, but there was no other choice. It had to do.

Dean approached the table cautiously, worried that too much movement would set him off. The dark wingspan spread out almost three feet on either side of the table and Dean swallowed a stone.

He had no idea what to do next, not really. The closest experience he’d had to being a doctor had been treating John’s stab wound when he was thirteen and John had come home more beaten than usual.

He stared helplessly down at Wings.

“He...help.” Wings voice was like a ghost’s, he barely heard it, and he was standing right next to him. He looked up at the cobwebbed chandelier lighting like it was something holy and mesmerizing and Dean realized he was losing him.

“Shhh… it’s okay.” His forehead was sticky with sweat and drying blood, and Dean pushed some of the unruly black wisps from his eyes, humming low. “I’m gonna help you.”

Wings hand shook, following the edge of the table, feverishly searching for something to hold onto. Tentatively, Dean slid his fingers between his, feeling his calloused palm against his own. “Wings. Wings, you gotta listen to me. Wings, please . You have to lay still.”

He had no idea if the man understood a single word he was saying, but it seemed to do the trick. Over the span of a terrible minute, his breathing slowed down, and his grip on Dean’s hand went from frail to almost bone crushingly alive.

Wings’ blue eyes were on him, flickering a little in the low light. Dean waited, untrained, unable and unwilling to play operation on him while he was still conscious, eyes desperate to look at anything but the daunting task before him.

Eventually, he passed out, his painful grimace replaced by a soft one, and Dean began to remove the shrapnel bullet, praying to anyone who was listening that it had not shredded his insides beyond repair.

▵▿▵

At some point in the night, Dean had gotten up to draw the curtains and lock the door, willing to sacrifice only a moment to seal them away from the rest of the world.

Now, sunlight pierced through the cracks, illuminating them both in thin lines of white light. He watched Wings toss and turn, his face gnarling into pain each time he moved.

What if Dean had fucked it up? What if the next breath he drew was his last? His mind raced, punishing him for every moment’s hesitation that could very well lead to his death.

Dean caught himself following Wings jawline, examining the stark contours of his face like he would never see them again. Please, just please make it out alive.

“Don’t die on me, Wings.” The words slipped out subconsciously. “Please, God, don’t die on me.”

Dean had the decency to cover him up with the quilt. The two’s hands were still tightly entwined long after the heartbeat in Wing’s wrist lulled Dean into sleep, tumbling heart over head.

#honestly i think i'm gonna reverse the title #I HATE TITLES what kinda corny ass things i come up with lmao #but for now.#that's what its called #cabin au #*#mine

57 notes · View notes

smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 7

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: Feelings, fluff (I felt some heart clench, but maybe that’s just me)

WC: 3525

A/N: This fills my ‘rope bunny’ (only mentioned) square for @spnkinkbingo. Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Dean couldn’t really sleep last night either, but what else is new?

But he’s really glad that she feels better. He could already tell that she was feeling much better after she took that shower. He was in the middle of changing the sheets, when she walked out and it really did something to him seeing her all clean and smelling like him. The shirt was kinda funny, he had to give Claire that. But her pants? He wanted to rip them apart because they were barely covering her legs at all.

When Y/N kissed his cheek, Dean was hard again, and it was even harder to conceal his boner when he’s wearing sweats.

They had an easy morning, and he liked that. Liked that they could talk about old times, liked how easy it was between them when they didn't have judging eyes on them like they had at school. He regrets not talking to her more back then. He was a stupid kid. Too cocky for his own good.

When she said that she was ready to go home, he agreed to take her back, suppressing his own feelings of wanting to keep her around longer. But again, why should she stay? It’s not like they are anything. Hell, he hasn’t even asked her out yet.

Maybe, Dean thinks, he should get the stick out of his ass and do it. Part of him is afraid that she’ll think he’s only doing all this because he doesn’t want her to destroy the reputation of his club. Which is bullshit, because Dean actually couldn’t care less. Any publicity is good publicity is the saying he goes by, and it is the truth. If it’s a bad article, people will be intrigued. If it’s good, people will still be intrigued. That’s just how it is. He never once felt intimidated when she told him that she is going to write that article.

Two days later, she feels herself again. It feels actually pretty great to be back amongst the living. All traces of her sickness are gone.

Dean texted her every now and again, asking her how she feels and she can’t help but blush every time her phone chimes with a message from him.

Y/N was able to go into the office today to finish things that were piling up on her desk. Thank god her colleagues helped with the articles that were due during her absence, but because Rufus thinks that she still shouldn’t be there at all, he sent her home early.

As she sits on her bed with her laptop propped on her thighs and contemplates writing up that article about Euphoria , she hears an incoming text.

D: How are you today?

Y/N: Better, thanks for asking. I went to work but Rufus sent me home early.

D: He did?

Y/N: Said I should rest for one more day.

D: I agree.

She rolls her eyes. She hates texting with him. She never knows if it’s his or her turn. Is she supposed to say something to that last text? It’s not like she can write up an essay when she writes in short sentences. But before she can think about what to write, Dean sends her another text.

D: Do you, by any chance, feel good enough to come to the club?

She bites on her lip and smirks to herself.

Y/N: Sure. Same time?

D: Whenever you are ready, sweetheart.

There’s blood rushing through her head as she gets up and walks to her closet. She has to wear something nice, but again, Dean has seen her at her worst and he wasn’t appalled, which she still can’t wrap her mind around.

She left a little early, therefore, she showed up here earlier, too. She hoped that Dean didn’t mind. The bouncer let her in and she stumbled upon Dean briefing his staff.

He notices her, nods in her direction but he continues to talk. She stands back, not wanting to disturb them, and listens in.

It’s weird. Well, not really weird, but it’s surreal to watch Dean briefing and instructing his staff. He is definitely a different Dean from the Dean she knew back in school. His voice is deeper, he has more facial hair, but what strikes her the most is how he carries himself. How he can come across as this authoritative person. Someone other people look up to. He looks good. Looks like he just walked out of a photo shoot. He has awesome social skills, and has a voice that makes you want to listen to whatever he has to say. She liked the old Dean but she also can’t lie that this Dean turns her on.

When he finishes, the people start to disperse and go on about their tasks. He comes towards her, smiling an easy smile that could make any woman blush. She’s no exception.

“Hey,” He smiles even brighter, his hands come up to stroke her cheek and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “You look better.”

She chuckles, “Well, that’s not hard, given that I probably looked like an extra from The Walking Dead .”

“You didn’t.” Dean’s smile is gone and his face is a little more serious. His hand is still on her cheek and he trails his finger down her jawline, thumbs at her bottom lip. When he realizes what he is doing, Dean quickly clears his throat, “Right. Are you ready to check out some rooms?”

“Sure,” She shrugs, a little sad that the moment is over.

Dean’s grin returns and he jerks his head towards the stairs, “Then come on,”

Y/N follows him up the stairs and through the VIP room where Claire and some other people were setting up things. They move away the big group of couches lining the middle of the room, carrying around big candles and pillows. They hang up electrical lanterns and silk cloth. She notices that they are all dressed in special gowns too. It has an Arabic feel to it. Girls wear gold bikinis and silken pants or skirts, gold chains around their hips.

“What’s going on?” She asks out of curiosity. She doesn’t even notice that she has slowed down, until Dean walks back to come get her.

He chuckles, “We’re having an Arabian night. There’s a special night every two weeks.” Dean grabs her wrist to pull her along, “Come on. We won’t see anything if you don’t keep moving.”

“But that’s interesting too!” She pouts, but she walks faster to keep up with Dean’s pace.

“Would you like to see that instead of the rooms?” He asks and looks down at her, his lips pressed into a thin line but he grins, she can see.

“What if I want to see it all?” She raises an eyebrow.

Dean’s chuckling softly, “Rooms first. I might have something you like.”

Something she likes? Well, if that doesn’t pique her curiosity she doesn’t know what will. She doubts that it’s going to be another sybian room, though. Maybe she can ask if she can go into that room again some other time. Or maybe he can tie her up in that rope, she was scared at first but it sounds appealing to be dominated and hanging around of a ceiling, the rope tight around her body, the material digging into her skin.

He comes to a halt at the door next to the room with the sybian bull and opens it to let her take a peek.

“It’s the furry room.” He says, and crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the door frame lazily.

Y/N’s about to ask him what that means when her gaze registers the clothing rack to the far left side. There’s a big mirror on the right and mattresses on the floor.

“Oh, my god,” She huffs out a breath, “These are costumes, right?” She can see some costumes of foxes and wolves, cats and dogs, lions and tigers and many more, “Are people really into this kind of thing?”

He has to chuckle, “Oh, you poor sheltered girl,” He walks in and picks out a costume to show it to her, “You won’t believe it, but this room is always fully booked. If you want to use this room, there’s a two weeks waiting list.”

“Dean?”

“Huh?” He hangs the costume back on its rack.

“I know, no kink shame and all, but, ewwwww,” She grimaces and shudders.

“I take it you don’t want to try it on?” Dean’s laughing as he walks towards her and takes her hand in his.

“Over my dead body,” She sighs and Dean pulls her out to open the door to the room next door.

“Medical room.” He says, and opens the door wide for her to see.

She steps around him and walks inside. There’s a white desk in the middle and off to the wall is an examination table. Hanging on grids are various sizes of dildos and strap ons. There’s also a tray next to the examination table with medical supplies.

It doesn’t really throw her off like it maybe should, because she can really imagine a lot of people being into that.

“So, the people who book the rooms, with whom do they fulfill their fantasies with? Employees of yours or other members?” She takes the strap on dildo from the grid. The leather is firm in her hands.

Dean walks in behind her, stops by the desk, “It depends. Sometimes members find their way to each other and they try different rooms together. Sometimes they invite an employee. The employee can agree or deny. It’s up to them. They don’t get paid to do it, you know? And sometimes, they mingle in the front first and invite someone to the VIP rooms. Every non-member has to sign an NDA before they enter.”

“You’re thorough.” She grins while she tries to strap the dildo around her waist.

Dean watches her in bewilderment before he answers, “I went on to business school, they taught me to be thorough.”

Y/N wiggles her hips, making the dildo swing around. She’s laughing and Dean can’t help but laugh with her.

“Is this the thing you said I’d like? Because honestly, I do?”

“You’re having way more fun than you should, you know?” He walks closer. His hands go to the strap on and releases it from around her hips. He hangs it back up, “No, it’s the next room that I’m excited for you to see.”

Dean takes her hand and walks out. They pass a couple more rooms until he stops. He exhales before he opens and tells her to close her eyes. She can see that he’s nervous and now she’s anxious about what lies inside of that room. What could possibly make Dean Winchester nervous?

She closes her eyes and Dean places a hand around her waist to walk her inside. Their steps echoes. She can feel from the reverberation that the room is bigger than all the other rooms they’ve been in.

“Okay,” Dean says, “Open up,”

Blinking her eyes open she takes it in and immediately her jaw drops.

“It’s a classroom.” He mumbles behind her.

Yeah, well, she can see that, but it’s not only a classroom. It’s their classroom. Their fucking English classroom from high school. Everything looks exactly the same, apart from the fact that there are no windows. There are still the same books displayed on the bookshelves, the same posters hanging on the walls. A big red ruler on the teacher’s desk, the same one their English teacher used to use to point at the black board. She can’t imagine how much trouble Dean went through to get his hands on all these things.

“Dean— I—,”

“Would it be weird if I say that English was the class I was always looking forward to the most?” His voice is a little lower, a little softer.

“I don’t know what to say,” She confesses.

“You don’t have to say anything,” He shrugs, “People use this room for role play. Usually teacher students kind of thing, you know. But it has a whole different meaning to me.” He walks over to the row where they used to sit in the classroom back at school and she follows him.

He pulls the chair to let her sit down and it’s weird. It’s like they’re catapulted back in time. Dean sits next to her and he leans forward, braces his elbow on the table, “Look here,” He taps at the wood on the side of the table.

D.W.

“You carved it here, too?” She chuckles.

Dean grins, all cocky and bravado, “Gotta let people know what’s mine.”

“This is crazy,” She shakes her head but she can’t hide the fact that she’s impressed with all the details, “You really liked English, huh?”

“You didn’t see it, did you?” He asks.

“See what?”

“Jesus, Y/N,” Dean groans and bends down, leaving his forehead on the table before he tilts his head. She can see that he’s blushing a little, “I only liked it because I sat next to you!”

She’s taken aback by the revelation, “I didn’t know,”

He chuckles at that, “No, of course you didn’t. You always were such a good girl back then and you hung on to every one of the teacher’s words. I’m surprised you even knew who I was.”

Dean’s not wrong. She was kind of a nerd.

“Fact is, I already liked you back then. And I asked you out to prom but you shot me down.” He says in a teasing way and she gasps.

“I didn’t.”

“Eh..ya, you did,”

“What?” She shouts out, “You didn’t ask me! As far as I can remember you asked ‘Are you going to the prom?’ and I said no.”

Dean raises his eyebrows and looks a little annoyed.

And then the penny drops, “Ooooooh! Oh, no, Dean. That’s not how you ask someone to the prom!”

“Yeah,” He chuckles, “I was young and a cocky bastard, okay? I didn’t know how to ask someone out whom I felt something for.”

“You felt something for me, back then?”

He clasps his hand over his face and rubs at this scruff, “Yeah, I did.”

She feels blood rushing to her head. He did like her then? Does he still like her now?

Before she can ask, Dean reaches out to touch her face, fingers skimming over her cheek. He leans closer, “Can I kiss you? I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t.”

Y/N bites her lip which she curves up into a smile, and nods her head in approval.

Dean exhales and leans closer. He grins as his lips ghosts over hers. He’s so close. She can smell his breath hot on her face. His hand is on the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him. They chuckle and it’s awkward. It’s like those awkward first kisses as teenagers. Their noses bump against each other and it’s like she doesn’t know how things work anymore, until Dean takes the lead and presses his plump lips to hers. It’s soft and salty, minty fresh too. His tongue teases along her bottom lip and she opens up her mouth a little more, letting him in. His tastes flood her senses, and god, she likes it.

The kiss is careful, soft. He breaks it after a short while but leaves his forehead on hers, “Always wanted to do that.” He grins and pecks her lips once more.

“We can continue to do that,” She licks at her lips, where a faint taste of him still lingers.

He chuckles, “Nah, I’m afraid that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

She frowns at him, “And you have to stop, because…”

Dean stands up and takes her hand, pulls her with him as he makes his way out of the door, “Y/N, I’m a gentleman and not a hot headed teenager anymore. I wanna take you out properly before I even start to think about doing anything else with you.”

“Or do anything to me?” Her grin is cocky, maybe as cocky as his when he was younger.

He groans, and turns around, cupping her chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt it up, “You have no idea what I dreamed of doing,” He kisses her lips one more time, “You hungry? I know just the place,”

Honestly, she would follow him into a dingy bar if that’s where he wants to take her, just to get it over with. She knows that her thinking might be desperate but maybe she is. She wanted to tell him before, when he said that he won’t be able to stop, that she didn’t want him to. Didn’t want him to stop when his kisses are so intoxicating.

Dean drives her to the diner which is about five miles from their old school. It’s where the students used to hang out and he remembered seeing her there on a couple of occasions, mainly when there was a birthday of someone she knew or one of her circle of friends invited her there. Dean knew that she didn’t have money back then. He had seen her nursing a warm milkshake more times that he would have wanted. He wished that he could turn back time and maybe jump over his own shadow and take her out. Well, he tries to make up for lost time now.

She gets out and looks at the diner, “Oh my god. This is a surprise.”

Dean chuckles and weaves his arm around her waist, pulls her close to him and starts to walk to the front of the diner.

As they sit in their booth, she looks at the menu.

“You like it here?” He asks, but he already knows the answer because she’s grinning like crazy.

“Very much, yes. I was afraid you’d take me to a fancy restaurant where they have too much cutlery and I never know which one to use.”

He has to chuckle at that, “No, I know that you wouldn’t like that. That’s why we're here, and I’m telling you, they have the best burgers.”

“I’ve been dying to taste it,” She says, “You know, after college, I always wanted to come back here but then I kind of forgot about it.”

“Well, you’re allowed to have everything you want.” He grins, “I’m feeling generous tonight.”

After the meal they walk out and Dean has to hold his belly because it’s so full. She’s trailing behind him and groans to which Dean has to laugh, “You okay?”

“I’m just really full.”

He takes her hand and walks her to the car, “You know, you were right about something,”

“What is it?” He can see her raising an eyebrow at him.

“You really don’t share fries.”

She elbows him in the rib and he chuckles, bends down to kiss the top of her head.

It feels easy, Dean thinks, he doesn't know why he was so afraid to ask her out in the first place. He likes how they can talk, how they can laugh together, how she just knows who he really is and not who he tries so hard to be.

“So,” Dean looks over to her when they settle in the car, “Where to next?”

Y/N smirks, “I don’t know? What do you usually do on a date?”

He is taken aback by the question because first of all, she considers it a date, too. And second of all, Dean would usually take the girl back her home after a meal or drink, fuck her roughly once, maybe twice if she’s really good, and then leave with a promise to call her but never does. He can’t tell her that now, can he?

No, he can’t. Instead he says, “I usually go to the club for a drink and then drive the woman home and say my goodbyes.”

She snorts out a laugh, holds her belly and her whole body is shaking. He can’t help but laugh with her, “That’s it? Oh, come on, Dean.”

“I am serious!” He whines, but she sends him a glare.

“Fine, whatever helps you sleep at night,”

“So, where do you want to go?” He asks again, his fingers on the car key, ready to turn.

Pursing her lips into a thin line, she pretends to think, “To your club? I’m really curious about the Arabian night.”

Dean nods, “The club it is.” He starts the ignition, drives off, and he knows that she’s been watching him, so he asks, “What?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. That easy? What if I would have said that I wanted to go to the movies? Or to a concert? Or a walk in the park?”

He turns his head to look at her, a smile on his face, “Honestly? I would have taken you anywhere you want, Y/N.”

Chapter 8

#euphoria #spnkinkbingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

234 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Dean...

**Warnings** Some language maybe? Angst. That’s pretty much it. This one is pretty light.

A/N: Just a little drabble that I threw together for Dean’s Birthday! Hope you enjoy it! All mistakes are mine! Please don’t copy my stuff!!

Word Count: 1504

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Read, kinda, mentions of Sam x Reader

If anyone wants to be added to my tag list let me know!!!

To say you and Dean didn't like each other was an understatement.

You'd been with the Winchesters for five years now. Ever since your uncle Bobby had passed away, and you didn't have anywhere to go. They had taken you in, and from that moment on you and Dean had become worst enemies. You where certain that if it were not for Sam, Dean would have kicked you to the curb a long time ago. You weren't a hunter, well not exactly, you preferred research. You'd been raised in the life, and for that reason, coupled with the fact that you where Bobby Singer's niece, every evil thing and it's mother.. creature... whatever... knew your name. So you, like the Winchesters and every other hunter/hunter family, had one giant target painted on your back.

Lucky you.

You weren't a fighter.

Not that you couldn't, you just didn't care to. The pain involved wasn't exactly your forte, and you didn't go out looking for a fight even though you did know how to defend yourself. You made yourself useful to the boys and other hunters by becoming a female version of Bobby.

Well, without the overuse of alcohol, and the horrible taste in classic country music, not to mention a lot cleaner to say the least.

You answered phones for hunters. You did the research for more than just the Winchesters. Dean didn't really like that either, though you didn't know why. Even though you had contact via email, phone, text, and sometimes video chat you never talked to any of them in person, so you couldn't see or understand the danger. Every hunter out there knew you lived and worked with the Winchesters. So nothing in its right mind, living, dead, or the undead, dared to lay a finger on you.

You traveled with them all over the place. Staying in abandoned houses, shitty hotel rooms, and whatever else you could find. Sometimes it was just the back of the Impala. That was until they found out about being legacies, and The Bunker. Things did seem to improve after that. You all had a little more space. Definitely more personal space. That helped in and of its self. Dean though, for some reason, still seemed to hate you no matter where you were staying. You couldn't remember ever doing anything to the handsome hunter. You weren't stupid, or suicidal. You never challenged him in any way. You just didn’t get it.

After you moved into The Bunker you did classes online, and even snuck around and took some clinical work it took to get your RN. Until Dean caught you anyway and flipped his lid, screaming at you that something or someone could have found you working at that hospital late at night while you did your Clinicals, and killed you. You thought you would be helping becoming an RN, something you always wanted to do, but he insisted you where needed behind a book or a computer screen. That they had Cass to handle the healing, and they didn't need you, or your input concerning the matter of their physical health.

That was the last time you spoke directly to the elder Winchester. That night you cried yourself to sleep, and when you got up, you swore you'd never let him, or any other man, do that to you again. So you buried yourself in research and work, only speaking to Dean when it was required.

Sam, on the other hand, he was your best friend. Always had been since the moment you meet him. He seemed to get you, the two of you just click. Like two little nerds, happy to do whatever it was that you were doing together. You never got into a fight. You watched movies together. You did everything together.

When he met Eileen the two of you clicked right away as well. You knew Dean couldn't figure that out because he was always swearing that you and Sam were sleeping together even though you didn't see each other that way.

Tonight was not much different from any other night, the boys were out on another case, hunting a Wendigo from what you could guess, that’s what it looked like in the evidence pile that Sam had emailed you. They were close to wrapping it up last time Sam had texted you, but you didn't expect them back till sometime early that next morning. So that meant another night alone in The Bunker. Which honestly you were used to by now, and it sort of was the safest place in the word when you took all the warding and things like that into consideration.

You wondered your way back to your room down the hallway, a cup of coffee in hand, and the intent to watch Netflix until you finally got tired enough to fall asleep.

Settling down with your laptop you typing in your password. Your time and date popped up on your screen saver. Jan. 23, 2020. 11:34 p.m.

The date stopped you for a moment. It was Dean's birthday in less than 30 minutes time. He'd made it to 41 years old... That was something in the life you lived. Most men didn't live until they were 35, much less over 40. Bobby and Rufus were almost the only exception to the rule you'd ever meet in person. Here he was though, if he survived the next 30 minutes he would officially be 41 years old...

Sitting there in the darkness, the only light that was going was the laptop, and the dim old bedside lamp, you caught yourself thinking. That was something you didn't like to do.

Think.

It caused way too many emotions and things that you didn't want to feel. Like the fine line between love and hate you knowingly walked with Dean. Yes, you were technically enemies, and yes, you couldn't stand each other most of the time, but sitting here in the dark, thinking the words that just rolled across your mind, "If he survived the next 30 minutes,” made your heart feel like it weighed 200lbs in your chest.

The thought of Sam having to call you, and tell you that Dean was gone was almost unbearable. A single tear rolled down your face before you could even bother to wipe it away. Shit... Maybe you didn't hate Dean after all...

Was it really possible that you actually loved Dean... That you were terrified of his rejection, so you chose rather too act as his enemy because it was easier?

It crossed your mind that this hunting life was finally starting to get to you, but you shoved that aside for later. Right now the most important thing you had to face was the fact that like it or not, you were in love with Dean; and it took you imagining his death to really see it. You had it shoved so far down you believed your own lie.

Picking up the phone before you could stop yourself, you dialed Dean's phone number. It was now midnight. If he made it through this hunt, and Chuck wasn't being a total Jackass, then he'd made it to 41, but you realized something.

Being a hunter meant that there was a strong possibility that you didn't have the next five minutes, and you had worked yourself up so much that you had to hear his voice just once to settle your pounding heart and know that he was okay.

It rang and rang. The more the phone rang, the more afraid you got that you were right. That your fear was right. He hadn't survived the hunt.

Then just when you were about to give up hope and have a whole nervous breakdown, you heard the voice that made your heart standstill in your chest for at least three beats.

"Hello...."

He sounded uncertain, which you guess was normal, you had never called him before... Ever...

Normally you just made contact through Sam. You preferred to act like Dean didn't exist to you, so you ignored him.

"Y/N? Hello? Is everything okay?"

His voice more desperate now, which made you feel even worse for the way you'd been treating him. He was worried because you never called him, now he thinks something is wrong.

"H...Hey Dean," you stuttered, knowing if you didn't say something if he survived the speeding trip here he'd kill you when he saw you where unharmed.

"Is everything okay Y/N?" he asked, a little calmer now that you answered him.

"Yeah, uh, I just uh, I just was worried about you guys. I haven't heard anything since Sam's text."

Here you were lying to him again, mentally slapping yourself. Why did you keep doing this?

"Oh... Uh... Everything went fine, we're about an hour from home now. Y/N, you do know this my phone not Sam's, right?" he asked.

You couldn't understand his tone, it was, strange, soft, hopeful?

"Oh... I'm sorry Dean... Guess I got the wrong Winchester," you mumble, trying to keep your voice even.

You hang up the phone before he could question your odd behavior anymore. Looking at the disconnected call you whisper what you called him for in the first place. What you didn't have the guts to say.

"Happy Birthday, Dean...."

_________________________________________

Pt. 2 here!!!

30 Minutes til Midnight

391 notes · View notes

fuckheadwitha · 4 years

Text

Listening to Rolling Stone's Top 500 Albums of All Time

Rolling Stone released an updated list of their top 500 albums of all time and being trapped in the purgatory of covid quarantine this seems like the perfect moment to tackle what an almost completely irrelevant former counter-culture institution has to say about music (we can’t actually blame Rolling Stone for this list, a huge number of musicians and critics voted to make it). I am going to listen to every single one of these, all the way through, with a level of attention that's not super intense but I'm definitely not having them on in the background as simple aural wallpaper. Two caveats though: I can make an executive decision to skip any album if I feel the experience is sufficiently miserable, and I'm also going to be skipping the compilation albums that I feel aren't really worth slots (best ofs, etc.). In addition, I will be ordering them as I go, creating a top 500 of the top 500 (it will be less than 500 since we've already established I'm skipping some of these).

Here are 500-490:

#500 Arcade Fire - Funeral

I can already tell I'm going to be at odds with this list if one of the most important albums of my high school years is at the bottom. That being said, I haven't actually given this whole thing a listen since probably the early 2010s, before Arcade Fire fatigue set in and the hipsterati appointed band of a generation just kinda seemed to fade from popular consciousness. I actually dreaded re-experiencing it, since the synthesis of anthemic rock and quirky folk instrumentation which Arcade Fire brought mainstream has now become the common shorthand of insufferable spotify friendly folk pop. Blessedly, the first half of the album easily holds up, largely propelled by dirty fast rhythm guitar, orchestration that's tuneful rather than obnoxious, and lyrics which come off as earnest rather than pretentious. The middle gets a little sappy and “Crown of Love”, a song I definitely used to like, really starts the grate. And then we get to “Wake Up”, whose cultural saturation spawned thousands of dorky indie rock outfits that confused layered strings and horns with power and meaning. This song definitely hasn't survived the film trailers and commercials which it so ubiquitously overlayed, but the line about "a million little gods causing rainstorms, turning every good thing to rust" still attacks the part of my brain capable of sincere emotion. This album is probably going to hold the top spot for a while, because although so many elements of Funeral that made it feel so meaningful, that made it stand out so much in 2004, have been seamlessly assimilated into an intellectually and emotionally bankrupt indie pop industrial complex, the album itself still has a genuine vulnerability and bangers that still manage to rip.

#499

Rufus, Chaka Khan - Ask Rufus

Before she became a name in her own right, Chaka Khan was the voice of the band Rufus, and it’s definitely her voice that shines amongst some spritely vibey funk. That’s not to say that these aren’t some jams on their own. “At Midnight” is a banging opener with a sprint to the finish, and although the explicitly named but kinda boring “Slow Screw Against the Wall” feels weak, this wasn’t really supposed to be an album of barn burners. This was something people put on their vinyl record players while they chilled on vinyl furniture after a night of doing cocaine. “Everlasting Love” is a bop with a bassline like a Sega Genesis game, and the twinkling piano on “Hollywood” adds a playful levity to lyrics that are supposed to be both tackily optimistic about making it big out in LA and subtly realistic about the kind of nightmare world showbiz can be. “Better Days” is another track that manages to be a bittersweet jam with a catchy sour saxophone and playful synths under Chaka Khan’s vamping. This album definitely belongs on a ‘chill funk to study and relax to’ playlist.

#498

Suicide - Suicide

We’ve hit the first album that could be rightly called a progenitor for multiple genres that followed it. Someone could say there’s a self-serving element of this being on a Rolling Stone list (the band was one of the first to adopt the label ‘Punk’ after seeing it in a Lester Bangs article) but the album’s legacy is basically indisputable. EBM, industrial, punk, post-punk, new wave, new whatever all have a genealogy that connects to Suicide, and it’s easy to hear the band in everything that followed. But what the band actually is is two guys, one with an electric organ and one with a spooky voice, doing spooky simple riffs and saying spooky simple things. Simplicity is definitely not a dis here. The opener “Ghost Rider” makes a banger out of four notes and one instrument, and the refrain ‘America America is killing its youth’ is really all the lyrical complexity you need to fucking get it. “Cheree” and “Girl” have almost identical lyrics (‘oh baby’ vs ‘oh girl’) but “Cheree” is more like a fairy tale and “Girl” is more like a sonic handjob. “Frankie Teardrop” has the audacity to tell a ten minute story with its lyrics, but of course there is intermittent, actually way too loud screaming breaking up the narrative of a guy who loses everything then kills his family and himself. The song is basically a novelty, and I think you can probably say the whole album is a novelty between its brevity and character. But for a bite sized snack this album casts a huge shadow.

#497

Various Artists - The Indestructible Beat of Soweto

The fact that this particular compilation always ends up in the canon has a lot to do with the cultural context it existed in, being America’s first encounter with South African contemporary music during the decline of apartheid (it wouldn’t end until a decade later in 1994 with the country’s first multi-racial elections). Music journos often bring up the fact Ladysmith Black Mambazo, the all male choir singing on the album ender “Nansi Imali”, sang on Paul Simon’s Graceland like their virtue is they helped Paul Simon get over his depression and not, like, the actual music. But also like, how is the actual music? Jams. Ubiquitous, hooky guitars propel the songs along with bright choruses over low lead vocals, but I didn’t expect the synthesizer on the bop “Qhude Manikiniki”, nor the discordant hoedown violin on “Sobabamba”. “Holotelani” is a groove to walk into the sunset to.

#496

Shakira - Donde Estan los Ladrones

So this is the first head scratcher on the list. It’s not like it sucks. And I think I prefer this 90s guitar pop driven spanish language Shakira to modern superstar Shakira. But I mean, it’s an album of late nineties latin pop minivan music, with a thick syrupy middle that doesn’t do anything for me. The opener and closer stand out though. ‘Ciega, Sordomuda’, one of the biggest pop songs of the 90s (it was #1 on the charts of literally every country in Latin America), has a galloping acoustic guitar and horn hits with Shakira’s vocals at their most percussive.

#495

Boyz II Men - II

So, if you were alive in the 90s you know Boyz II Men were fucking huge, and the worst song on the album is the second track “All Around the World”, basically a love song to their own success, and also the women they’ve banged. You can tell it was written specifically so that the crowd could go fucking wild when they heard their state/city/country mentioned in the song, and I’m not gonna double check but I’m sure they hit all fifty states. Once you’re over that hump though you basically have an hour of songs to fuck to. “U Know” keeps it catchy with propulsive midi guitar and synth horns, “Jezzebel” starts with a skit and ends with a richly layered jazz tune about falling in love on a train, and “On Bended Knee” has a Ragnarok Online type beat. Honestly this album can drag, but you’re not supposed to be listening to it alone in a state of analysis, you’re supposed to have it on during a date that’s going really, really well.

#494

The Ronettes - Presenting the Fabulous Ronettes

A singles compilation of the Ronettes, the only ones I immediately recognized were ‘Be My Baby’ and ‘Going to the Chapel of Love’, the latter of which I didn’t know existed since the version of the song I knew was by the Dixie Cups, which was apparently a source of drama since the Ronettes did it first but producer Phil Spector refused to release it. I feel like as a retro trip to sixties girl groups it’s full of enough songs about breaking up (for example “Breaking Up”) getting back together (for example “Breaking Up”) and wanting to get married but you can’t, because you’re a teenager (“So Young”).

#493

Marvin Gaye - Here, My Dear

This album only exists because Marvin was required by his divorce settlement to make it and provide all of the royalties to his ex-wife and motown executive Anna Gordy Gaye. It’s absolutely bizarre, phoned in mid tempo funk whose lyrics range from the passive aggressive (“This is what you wanted right?”) to the petulant (“Why do I have to pay attorney’s fees?”). There is a seething realness here that crosses well past the border of uncomfortable. I don’t think it’s an amazing album to listen to, but it’s an amazing album to exist: Marvin Gaye is legally obligated to throw his own divorce pity party, and everyone's invited.

#492

Bonnie Raitt - Nick of Time

I have never heard of Bonnie Raitt before but apparently this album won several grammys including album of the year in 1989 and sold 5 million copies, which I guess goes to show that no award provides less long term relevance than the grammys. The story around the album is pretty heartwarming, it was her first massive hit after a career of whiffs, and Bonnie Raitt herself is apparently a social activist and neat human being. I say all this because this sort of 80s country blues rock doesn't really connect with me, but the artist obviously deserves more than that. I unequivocally like the title track though, a hand-clap backed winding electric piano groove about literally finding love before your eggs dry up.

#491

Harry Styles - Fine Line

I do not think I have ever heard a one direction song because I am an adult who only listens to public radio. I’m totally open to pop bands or boy bands or boy band refugee solo artists, but I don’t like anything here. It’s like a mixtape of the worst pop trends of the decade, from glam rock that sounds like it belongs in a car commercial to folky bullshit that sounds like it belongs in a more family focused car commercial. This gets my first DNP (Does Not Place).

#490

Linda Ronstadt - Heart Like a Wheel

Another soft-rock blues and country album which just doesn’t land with me. But the opener “You’re No Good” is like a soul/country hybrid which still goes hard and the title track hits with the lyrics “And it's only love and it's only love / That can wreck a human being and turn him inside out”.

Current Ranking, which is weirdly almost like an inverse of the rolling stones list so far;

#rolling stone #500 greatest albums of all time

4 notes · View notes

scatterpatter · 4 years

Text

Some expanded thoughts on FF7R under the cut [SPOILERS]

So! Overall I freaking LOVED the remake and I can’t wait to see the rest! Midgar feels so alive and expanded, you really feel attached to everyone, it’s... muah! Honestly a lot of the points I’m gonna make are more nitpicks than anything. I won’t make any commentary on the gameplay because I watched a let’s play instead of playing by myself(im broke and cant afford a PS4 and $60 game >_>)

So the designs are GORGEOUS... no, the entire GAME is gorgeous. Midgar looks so good and detailed, there’s so much great implementation of color theory! Cloud is sooooo good looking!!! Barret and Aerith and Sephiroth are all GORGEOUS! Reno Rude Tseng and Rufus.. AAAA!!! The only slight complain I have is that- okay so Tifa looks AWESOME, but I honestly wish she wasn’t so skinny. Like she’s a melee fighter, but her waist and arms are so thin! I wish they gave her a bit more tone and muscle, but, oh well. I honestly can’t stop staring at the character models they look SO good

Plot-wise, I really like most of the changes/additions they made! Especially with Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie. They’re wonderful and I love them and did I mention that I love them because they’re just so dorky!!! And good!!!

Honestly, I like that Aerith is actually written to be likeable. I know that doesn’t seem like much but a lot of games fall into the trap of telling you that you’re supposed to like the female protag(looking at you, Breath of the Wild) or tell you that she’s a strong character, but they fail to show that, so the player feels like they’re just being told to get attached. Aerith, though, is actually really likeable in this game!!! She’s cute and down-to-earth, really dorky and even snarky, easily seeing past Cloud’s tough-guy act, and she can fight! It’s just so nice to see a game that shows a strong female protag instead of just telling you.

Legit everyone is horny for Cloud and I’m so here for it

Okay so like. I love Roche. I didn’t at first but he quickly grew on me. He’s so awfully chaotic and I just- I love him. I’m mad that he was just kinda forgotten, though. Like! He could’ve shown up at the ending chase!!!

THEY REALLY WROTE HOJO TO BE AS CREEPY AS POSSIBLE HUH. Like I’m not complaining because like he’s basically the reason why everything happened, but! Ahhhh he makes me squirm he’s a creep with a gross science fetish and I wanna stab himmmmm

Okay so. President Shinra is a little bit TOO stereotypically evil? Like having a gold statue of himself and not even caring about sabotaging one of his own reactors when one little console gets destroyed??? Like it’s almost comical how evil he’s written to be. Though, I do like the scene where he calls Barret out on his ideals, that was neat!

Nowww, Heidegger Scarlet Palmer and Reeve? MUAH. Heidegger and Scarlet are written so sadistically but like in such a likeable way, especially Heidegger. God I hate them both but you just love to hate them!!! Palmer is HILARIOUS- I love how he’s written to be the spoiled kid whose parents forced the other kids to include him so he’s just there even though he doesn’t do anything. And Reeve? Well...

SO REEVE IS MY FAVORITE ATM SINCE WE DON’T HAVE VINCENT YET, AND REEVE IS JUST... <3 <3 <3 Okay so first off, his design is perfect. He doesn’t really stand out in the same way that Heidegger Scarlet and Palmer do. He just has a normal build, normal suit, normal hair slicked back- he just looks like a normal employee, totally inconspicuous... which is very fitting considering how he ends up being undercover and needs to look inconspicuous ;)

Though Reeve shows clear signs of overworking himself and being emotionally abused by his coworkers which... sucks. I mean it’s good writing but I feel so awful for him- Like you know it’s bad when someone just has to hold up a hand to get you to shut up and sit down. I like that he tries to do good things but steps down when he’s told to, that he’s empathetic but cowardly. It does a great job at setting up his character arc in future chapters <3

Okay so one thing- I thought the build-up for the plate dropping was amazing, but honestly... the plate itself falling was slightly underwhelming, to be completely honest. Like- I just didn’t feel the impact that a plate falling would have! Mainly because, you don’t see a single death which is interesting. Like you see people running from falling debris, but legit not a single death is implied. Honestly? I thought the scene would have been far more impactful if they showed:

Seventh Heaven actually being destroyed

The people topside reacting to the ground beneath them collapsing and them falling to their deaths(They only tried to evacuate Sector 7 slums! Not the topside!!!)

More people actually being implied to have been crushed(No, Im not counting Wedge). Like in the original FF7 there’s a scene where someone’s watching tv and you see the plate falling from outside the window- and there’s a reporter just doing his normal shit before he suddenly looks up and things go to static- like- thats an intense scene and I wish the remake did more stuff like that!

They do great showing people REACTING to the plate falling which is why its so appalling to me that they dont show much of the actual devastation DURING plate fall

I LOVE that Cait Sith shows up at the plate falling! It shows that Reeve actually tried to warn people(something he asked to do and was denied earlier), even if he was too late. The only problem I have is that new players who dont know who Cait Sith is will be horribly confused as to who and why he’s there???

Also, when the crew goes back to Sector 7, you don’t really... feel the impact right away. Keep in mind, an entire section of city just fell onto another section of city WITH the supports holding it up, there should have been way more rubble. Yet, the area where Seventh Heaven is just... looks like it was hit with a major earthquake. There should be way more rubble, like mountains of it. It’s weird since the opening cinematic really captures the scope of how huge Midgar is, but the plate falling just doesn’t really show the scope of how much devastation there was to losing an entire plate.

The scope of it is done a bit better when climbing up Sector 7, but I still feel like the weight and scope of destruction isn’t lived up to its full potential.

Okay so- Wedge and Biggs. ... Yeah, it takes away from the impact of their deaths to have them not die. I mean, I can’t make a total opinion on this just yet, because the other parts haven’t come out yet, but... if FF7R is gonna keep them alive, they better have a good reason for it tbh.

They might have done a little bit too much foreshadowing with Cloud and Aerith? Like I like Cloud having memory issues, it’s kept pretty vague... but him going “Mother?” with Jenova is a little bit too spoiler-y. Like yeah you gotta tease his whole thing but like- don’t give it away this soon!!!

I also don’t mind Seph showing up as much as he does. Like, in the original, you don’t even hear about him until close to the end of the Midgar arc. Obvi since the remake ONLY covers the Midgar arc so far, I totally understand bringing him in sooner. Again, having the clones existing might be a little too spoilery for the big twists later on, but I can let it slide since it’s still treated as very “wtf” and I’m sure anyone new to the story hasn’t put it together yet.

Did I mention how much I love Seph he’s so creepy and his eyes are gorgeous and he’s so intimidating by just being there

And the Whispers... I honestly didn’t like them. I kept forgetting that they existed honestly. They just feel so... detached from the plot. I don’t mind adding new content/story, but the Whispers just... didn’t feel well-implemented. They also felt really campy towards the end. Like, the fact that they could un-stab Barret and shield Avalanche from car accidents while they were escaping? They were legit like “no you can’t die even if you tried because fate” and takes away any tension of the scene because... well, they know they cant die.

That being said, the ending was interesting. I uh. It was interesting! So they actually defeat fate itself in order to change... who knows what. The future, maybe even the past??? I’ve got many thoughts on this

If the future is changed, that can be exciting since people who know the original’s plot won’t know what’s gonna happen next so like- okay!

If the past was changed... y’all know I’m talking about Zack. Was fate changed so that he could live? Keep in mind, we see Whispers surrounding Midgar before they dissipate and Zack’s like “ohey did I get all of em?”, implying that fate would have forbade Zack from ever getting to Midgar. Having the team defeat fate means... Zack may have now reached Midgar.

Is alternate reality/timeline stuff going to happen now???

Cloud’s character revolves around Zack dying. What’ll happen to Cloud now???

I feel so bad for people new to the plot who don’t know who Zack is.

Nomura... you madman.

So with the ending... Nomura and Squenix is setting something up. They’re going for something huge. I uh. I fear, honestly! Because this could very likely get WAY too ambitious and WAY too confusing(Think Dream Drop Distance’s bullshit plot), and could totally fall on its face and end up being Squenix’s biggest flop of all time. But... if this succeeds and they actually pull off whatever they’re trying to pull... holy shit. I would be floored.

I honestly am a bit afraid that the plot will be too confusing for new players. Like- no one would know whats going on with Zack unless they knew the original plot, so like while this would be a great game for FF7 fans, I’m really worried that it won’t be a good game for people new to the series.

Cloud in a dress is the greatest thing and I’m so happy they kept that scene I love him so much the entire scene is so queer <3

But overall, despite some nitpicks, it was a SUPER SOLID game and I’m soooo hype to see where they go with it! I wanna see Cait and Yuffie and Cid and Vincent!!!!!!!!!

#ff7r #I RAMBLE A LOT #ff7r spoilers

14 notes · View notes

a-musing-mixologist · 4 years

Text

@liifestreams from x.

He watched the President fidget. Rufus's eyes were distant, and Reno could see the gears turning behind them. He couldn't imagine the kind of strain he was facing. Oh, he knew damn well how to work under pressure, but it was of a completely different sort. The Turks worked in the shadows. The only public face of their work was the suits, which meant that standing around looking intimidating was all that was required for “public appearances”. No fancy speeches required. Reno might be good at shooting his mouth off on the fly, but he doubted he'd ever be able to stand in front of a crowd and say anything coherent or inspiring. Well, he might be able to do it better than Rude, at any rate.

Rufus suddenly changed posture, causing Darkstar to look up quizzically. Finally, he began to speak, an attempt at some sort of greeting. Reno considered suggesting my dearest fuckos, but that probably wouldn't go over very well. Instead, he made himself comfortable against the railing, storm-gray hues still flicking from the President to the surroundings ever so often. Below, the waves continued their unending crashing.

“More than I am, yo.” It was, an honest assessment. “The only thing I remember 'bout speeches and shit is beginning, middle, and end. And uh... supporting examples.” He shook his head. “Or maybe that was essays...” Rufus turned away again, and soon his voice rose above the sound of the ocean below. The more he spoke, the more he seemed to change right there in front of him. Had it been anyone else, Reno would have rolled his eyes, knowing the words to be written by someone who didn't actually give a damn. But Rufus was speaking from the heart, and the words were his own. That was clear.

Hell, he almost felt inspired or something. The idea of a Shinra that was out to help, really help... Reno knew he wasn't a good person. He knew, when he signed up for the Turks, that he'd be doing terrible things, though never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined how terrible. And yet... given the choice, he'd rather help than harm. Picking fights had its charms, but hurting innocent people... He hated it. Working in the field, collecting intel, that was the Turks he knew and loved. The crap the old man and his cronies had forced on them made Reno's blood boil. Maybe Rufus really would change things.

Once Rufus's voice had died away, Reno straightened, tucking the EMR beneath his arm to clap his gloved hands. “Heeeey, that wasn't too bad, yanno? I think I got like, a feeling or something.” He grinned. “That sounds like the kinda thing people'll eat right up, yo.” He paused, mulling over the words. Health, education, housing, food. Hell, it sounded fantastic. But would Rufus follow through? Could he? Fire flashed before his eyes, and he could hear the sound of grinding metal. Reno flinched suddenly, though he pulled himself together swiftly. “Yeah...”

“Hey. Mr. President. Maybe I'm outta line to ask... but after all that ya said...” He ran a hand through his hair, scattering the vermilion strands. “Ya know we'll do whatever is asked of us... That's the Turks way...” But you'll never ask anything like that of them again, will you? The words remained on his tongue. “Ah, never mind. You give us a mission, we'll complete it, yo. Just like always.”

#liifestreams #Holds up a 10/10 sign #Now can he do that again *on camera*#T: Rufus

4 notes · View notes

reno2ndgun · 4 years

Note

1 Rufus frowned. “You were injured this morning and haven’t taken anything this whole time?” He was suspicious, and mildly concerned, but he also trusted his Turks to know their limits. Still… “Only one more drink, Reno. With the hush puppies. No getting drunk. It impedes healing.” Shaking his head, Rufus held back the comment that, in truth, he would never think of Reno as trash at all. He waited until the cheeky Turk had gotten his little rant out of his system.

He had no idea what ‘fee fees’ were, but whatever amusement he felt, he wasn’t willing to display it yet. He had to impress the seriousness of this onto Reno. "As much as I'd enjoy a report of you dousing yourself with coffee, there is a substantial difference between a paper cut and a *fracture* that takes you off of field work for the time being." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "If it's serious enough to mention, I want details. It prevents me from…" *worrying*, "wondering."

Rufus blinked in surprise. He was more than a little taken aback by Reno not only taking his offer of a sleepover seriously, but accepting it *tonight*. Then again, this was Reno. Rufus had always admired how the man seemed to live in the moment; had been fairly envious of it at times. Perhaps it was time to take a page from his book. Slowly pouring a second glass of wine, his mind flashed through the options. He could shuffle his schedule around easily enough.

Tseng had been all but begging him, in his own way, to take an evening off. As for the sleeping arrangements—he acknowledged his gut response and considered the options carefully in its wake. "I do have a fairly soft couch, but I'm concerned you could hurt yourself worse if you forget where you are. It happens to be located in front of a table that’s exactly at shin height. You are welcome to share my bed. It’s big enough for two.” And he missed just having another’s presence. “Up to you.”

“Well I did have something this morning, it just wasn’t pain killers, it was Rude’s tequila. We’d both been really excited about it all week yo. His family sent it from their brewery. They make good stuff!” He speaks with no small amount of cheek. It’s no secret Reno drinks like a pirate on occasion when he doesn’t have work to do. Good thing he’s almost always got some work to do. Reno chortles a laugh as his back arches, the hem of his shirt lifting to bare pale belly as his arms stretch up over his head. “Not True! I stay in bed a lot more when I’m drunk than when I’m not. I tend to fall asleep after tipsy.” He stands to take op the cutlery and the plates to clean everything and take it to the sinks. As he stands at the sink, he does so like a flamingo, one leg lifted off the ground entirely. “Honestly I just....Didn’t want to go to the hospital assigned on my insurance. Last time I was there one of the nurses was handsy. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Turks aren’t supposed to be bothered by that kinda shit you know yo? I also didn’t want special treatment and there were WAY more nurses looking after me than there needed to be. So Tseng let me come back if I promised to stay out of the field and off the training mats.” Quick hands scrubbed the dishes clean of food and rinsed them before setting everything in the dishwasher. He’d noticed Rufus pause before the word ‘wondering’ and smirked. Hmm...What was the man actually thinking? Rufus was the sort to know exactly what he wanted to say, and did so brazenly and with eloquence whether it was well received or not. Something that gave Rufus ShinRa pause was something to think about over the evening... “I don’t mind sharing a bed. Keeps things Cozy yo.” Reno limped slightly back to his drink and sipped the last of it down before pouring himself one more glass. He gently shakes the glass at Rufus, grin playful. “Last glass, happy? Contrary to Tseng’s belief I do not in fact have a drinking problem. I open my mouth, and I drink it!” He replaced the bottle in the cupboard and moved to look over the paperwork on Rufus’s desk, his drink in hand. “So whatcha work’n on yo? Anything I can help with or are ya done for the day?”

#Anonymous #Anon Rufus: In Charge #Reno Nix replies

3 notes · View notes

even-in-winter · 4 years

Text

10 for 10 for 10

Rules: Answer ten questions, come up with ten questions of your own, and tag ten people.

Thanks for the tag @kissedbydragonfire , but wow, this was not easy

Question time

1. If your OTP couldn’t be together, what other canon characters would you want them to be with?

Ow, help. This is hard. Uhm.... okay i will try

My OTP now is Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston. So, if they can't be together I would let Flynn have Lorena back in a second. He deserves a happy life with his family and baby girl.

Lucy however, i doubt a lot. Im tempted to say Wyatt, but I didn't like every version of him in the show. Sometimes he did things that made me doubt. So i dont know. I guess I would bring them together, but more the fanfic version of them if that makes sense.

My alternative would be Jess, both strong women, but @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels made me ship Jess with Amy, so that doesnt feel right either. (Read the roommate fic, they are amazing together! "Even when we're hopeless, at least we're not alone" is the name if i remember correctly)

I'm not even trying to ship her with Denise or Connor. Not for me. Nope.

So that kinda leaves Rufus and Jiya as alternative. I would never break up these cuties, so I'm going to put Lucy with them. Why? Because I can. Lucy would be in good hands with them.

2. If you could change one thing about your favorite fictional character, who is it and what would you change?

Lucy. I would make her a bit more confident in herself. Make her see just how much worth she has. She can be such a strong woman, she just needs to see it for herself sometimes.

3. Is there anything that you consider to be a lucky charm for you and/or brings you luck?

I have. My grandparents gave me a little silver necklace with a clover shaped pendant. They gave it to me when I was in high school to bring me luck on my exams. I do not believe in this bringing me luck, yet i wear it every time i have an exam or when something important comes up ( job interview etc.). My grandfather passed away last year and this makes me feel connected still. So, I do not believe it brings me luck, but I do feel like it calms me down and makes me more "mentally ready" for situations I could use a bit of luck in.

4. If you could live in any historical era (excluding the modern one), what would it be?

I would say modern times. All my favorite people are here, plus i would probably die after 2 days in any other time in history. I know how to handle swords, but thats a about it. I'm good in starting fires, but not when you need them. So i would burn down any camp i make within a day. I'm also very clumsy and daring a a but of 'je m'en fous', which is a horrible combination which leads to injuries more often than not. So no, better let me stay

5. Do you prefer blondes, brunettes or redheads?

Hmmmm... I think I'm going to go with brunettes, but followed very close by the blondes.

6. If you could save one beloved character from an in canon death by “moving” them to another show, what character would it be and what show would you “move” them to?

GARCIA FLYNN. I would move him to any show that can gives him the life he deserves. Ideally i would let Lucy or Lorena and Iris join him in this show, but I doubt thats what the question was about. I can not pinpoint a show right now, so I will gently place him in a show of his likings 😉

7. If you could go back and change one historical event, what would it be?

Honestly, i would probably be like timeless and change a lot. So its hard to just pick one...

8. If you were casting actors for a movie and you could select anyone, who is in your dream cast?

Abigail Spencer, Goran Visnjic, Henry Cavill, Maura Tierney, Rebecca Ferguson, Tom Hiddleston, and soooo much more.

9. Do you believe in ghosts? 👻

I do not. I never experienced anything that convinced me they could be real. I'm very sceptical about them. I like the idea that people I lost are still arround, but I dont really believe in it.

Also, i would totally make fun of people for eternity as a ghost. So maybe better if they don't exist haha🤷‍♀️

10. What’s the one thing you can’t live without while you’re stuck in quarantine?

WiFi. I have online classes, papers to write and for entertainment. I miss my friends and family so keeping contact and organizing groupwatches for movienight and chatting keep me sane.

Normally I would have said books, but it's been 2 weeks of complete lockdown now and I read 7 books already. I will run out of reading material soon and we have still several weeks to go😅

My Questions for you:

Yes they are weird. Yes I'm aware. Still, I'm bored and now very curious to see what your answers will be🤣🤣.

So, here we go 😎

1) There have been lots of crazy weapons made, such as the "Lantern shield" or " Spring loaded triple dagger" or "Gun shield" What is your favorite 'crazy' or weird weapon? (Doesn't need to be useful, the weirder the better)

2) You are an inventor. Yup. This is your life now. You invent things. Big things, small things, weird things, ... . What are your top 3 inventions?

3) What is the weirdest compliment you ever got?

4) IT'S YOUR LUCKY DAY! Your favorite genie Winter fulfills your wish! You can now yell/swear/be angry for 20 minutes at the person of your choice, without consequences because they will forget it all after you are done or when the 20 minutes are over. Who do you choose and why? If you feel comfortable to share it with your favorite genie, what would you say?

5) If you could "kidnap" one historical person to stay 1 week in 2020 before sending him/her back to their time. Who would you choose and why? (To motivate, make them see what they did for our modern times or to hang out with. The choice is yours. Everything is possible)

6) SURPRISE! Loki, the Norse god of Misschief, has taken a liking to you. You can now pull one prank on a person/organization/country/whatever you like of your choice and nobody will ever know it was you, or if you want they will know it was you but you will NEVER be punished for it. What would you do? 😎

7) Post a picture of the most "ugly"or "useless" animal below. Like the MOST UGLY HIDEOUS OR USELESS animal you can find. Give the animal a name of your liking (Fred, Jeff whatever you want. Be creative) and explain, while using that name, why this is the WORST animal. (Post the real name of the animal in the tags so people can google this lovely thing afterwards if they want)

8) My condolances, your great-great-twice removed aunt has just died. She left you something, something very special. It's a box. You slowly lift the lid to see "...". (fill in blank, explain if you like)

9) ITS YOUR FAVORITE GENIE WINTER AGAIN! This time, i have a little dillema for you. In order to get a wish of your choice, you need to push on this bell. This cool little bell 🛎. If you do, 20 people die. You don't know for sure if they are strangers or not. Could be anyone. You even dont know if their deaths are peaceful or horrible. You don't know. All you know is that your heartwish will be granted and 20 people die. Would you do it?

10) WOOPS! YOU DIED! or better, people believe you are dead, but you aren't. What will you do now? Will you enjoy your newfound freedom or will you return to your normal life?

I tag: @ununpredictableme @kissedbydragonfire @mathgirl24 @celtrose-ish @garciaflynnanimal @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @magnificentcowboypeanutpaper @princessamerigocreations @....

Anyone who wants to play, consider yourself tagged. No pressure, and if you don't want to answer all you don't have too. I'm just very curious to see some answers haha.

#tag game #kissedbydragonfire #kbdf #yes im bored #yes i had fun while thinking of those questions #im curious now #for both the answers and for who will answer #*evil laugh*#no your honor #i was not drunk while writing this #i ran out of alcohol after the first week of quarantine #send help

5 notes · View notes

foreverwayward · 5 years

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 3 Chapter 11: Time is On My Side

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 7415

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

In an abandoned cabin, hidden away from the world, the fireplace roared. Its light danced across the walls and was the only illumination in the room, keeping the darkness outside at bay.

Screams of suffering went unheard as a demon cried out in agony. The possessed man was strapped to a chair in the center of a devil’s trap as holy water was thrown into his face. His flesh sizzled and steam seeped from the vessel’s skin and faded into the air.

Sam, Dean, and Riley stood in front of him unmoved. The hunters were going to get answers with the clock running out for Dean. As they had run out of ideas, they interrogated a lower level demon.

“You ready to talk?” Dean shouted into the creature’s burning face.

“I don't fucking know!” It thrashed against its restraints. “I don't know anything!”

With a mocking expression, he turned to his partners. “Oh, you hear that, guys? He doesn't know anything.”

Sam smirked as he replied, “yeah, I heard.”

“I'm telling you the truth!” it cried.

With a wry laugh and condescending smile, Riley took large strides to have herself eye to eye with the demon. “You guys,” she feigned. “He says he’s telling the truth. I guess we owe him an apology.”

“You’re so right, Rye.” Dean grabbed the monster’s face and forced holy water into its mouth before it garbled a deafening cry, “I'm gonna ask you one last time...who holds my fucking contract?!”

The demon went quiet, his head hanging in defeat. When he looked up, his eyes were an evil black as he smiled at the three. “Your mother. Yeah, she, uh--showed it to me right before I bent her over and fucked her ‘til she screamed.”

Riley took a step back as Dean moved into her spot and leaned in. “I want a name. Or else…”

“Or what? You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want, the only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket.”

With a nod from Dean, Sam began to recite an exorcism. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundusspiritus, omnis satanicapotestas, omnis incursioinfernalisadversarii…”

“Go ahead, send me back to Hell. 'Cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you...with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester.” The demon grew a sinister grin on his face and laughed.

“Should I?” Sam asked as he paused the ritual.

Listening intently to whatever might still remain inside the vessel, Riley sighed. “The guy he’s got locked in there didn’t make it. Get this evil son of a bitch out of here.”

“Okay,” Dean agreed. “Sam, send him someplace he can't hurt anyone else.”

“...omnis legio, omnis congregatio et sectadiabolica.” As Sam continued, the unholy shrieks of pain ripped from the demon, echoing into the night and going completely unheard.

------

Sam sat alone in the cabin’s main room as he made several phone calls. He was just like his brother, whenever he had sniffed out a possible case, Sam was like a dog with a bone.

Dirty and sweating, Dean came in as he wiped his brow and huffed in exhaustion.

As the younger brother ended his call, he sat down on a chair close behind him. “Bury the body?”

“Yeah. Looks like these demons ride 'em hard just for kicks these days.” Dean grabbed a beer from their cooler and popped it open. Taking a large swig, he crashed tiredly onto a beat-up couch.

The front door closed and Riley walked in with bags of takeout. She tossed the Impala’s keys over to Dean as she went to a nearby tabletop with their spoils. “Who’s hungry?”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ starving. Waddya got?” Dean asked. Riley pulled out a wrapped burger from the bags and smirked as he grew excited. “If I haven’t told you yet today, I love you.”

Riley tossed the warm food to Dean he quickly unwrapped it. He moaned happily as he took a large bite.

Sam chuckled. “Should we leave you and your cheeseburger alone?”

“Hey, I think I could show this burger a good time.” Filling his mouth again, Dean watched Riley as she grabbed her own beer. She had found a large and worn cushion tossed to the side and sat cross-legged as she readied to eat her own meal. “What? You too good to sit next to me now?” he teased.

“Mm-mm,” Riley started with a mouthful. “You just kinda fucking stink right now.”

He paused dramatically. “That hurts my feelings.”

“Well, you’re hurting my nose.” She laughed to herself and took another bite. “So, what’d I miss?”

“Uh…” As Sam leaned back into his chair, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “Not much. I was just about to tell Dean I think I found us a case.”

Riley appeared taken aback. “A case? Sam, we’re already on a case.”

“What? Whose?”

“Uh--Dean’s,” she answered incredulously. “We’re down to three weeks, Sam--three weeks.”

“Well, do you have a lead on Richard, or the Colt, or anything that can help us?”

She tensed as she downed more of the cold drink. Riley’s head fell as the bottle sat between her two hands, fiddling with it. “You know I don’t.”

Dean had remained silent as the two talked and he knew Riley was right. Time was not a luxury they had, but Sam wasn’t wrong. With nothing to go on, the hunters were left with countless questions and no answers.

As Dean’s phone rang, he dug into his pocket to pull it out. He looked at the caller ID before flipping it open. “Bobby.” Dean put the call on speaker and held it out for everyone to hear.

“Hey,” their old friend replied. “Think I finally got a lead on Richard.”

“I'm listening.”

“Rufus Turner.”

Sam, Dean, and Riley shrugged at each other not knowing the name. “Who's that? Like a Cleveland steamer?”

“He's a hunter, or he used to be. He’s practically a hermit now--does a little selling on the side. Anyway, I put the word out on Richard months ago. Rufus just called, said a guy got in touch, wanted to buy some things.”

“And he thinks it's Dick?”

“Stuffy British accent went by the name Charles Gardner.”

“He’s used that before. Well, it's kind of a sloppy move, isn't it--getting in contact with one of your old friends?”

“Friend? Haven't laid eyes on him in fifteen damn years. He's not the Christmas card type. I doubt he knows I know him. Canaan, Vermont.”

Riley called out from across the room. “You’re the best, Bobby!”

“One other thing. Take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.”

Slightly confused, Dean answered, “okay.” He hung up his phone and turned to the others.

“Come on. We’re going Dick hunting.” Dean stopped, almost appalled by what he had said. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“It’s for the best,” Riley retorted with a look of disgust as she got up to gather her things.

“What?” Sam appeared perplexed and his brow scrunched. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.”

Dean grabbed his bag and turned down the fire that was still ablaze. “Come on. Get your stuff. The clock's ticking.”

“Look, I think we should check out the lead I have on this other case.”

“You insane?” Dean snarked as he turned back to his brother.

“Dean, there's no way he still has the Colt! That was months ago! He probably sold it the second he got it.”

“Well, then I'll kill the bastard. Win-win.”

As Riley threw their bag over her shoulder, she shrugged carelessly. “All in all, wouldn’t be a wasted trip.”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “Dean…”

“Sam,” his brother barked. “We're going!”

“No!”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I may have found a way to save you!”

Dean’s eyes widened and his voice softened as Riley spun to look at Sam as well. “What? What are you talking about?”

“This case? I’m pretty sure it’s from Doc Benton...real-life doctor, lived in New Hampshire in the nineteenth century--brilliant and obsessed with alchemy, especially how to live forever. So, in 1816, Doc abandons his practice and…”

Riley stared back at him, puzzled. “Sam, what the hell are you talking about?”

“...and nobody hears from him for like 20 years, and all of sudden, people start showing up dead--or missing an organ, or a hand, or some other kind of part. The legend is that whatever he did to himself was actually working to keep him alive.”

“Wait, a minute…” Dean started. “Why does this sound familiar?”

“Because you heard about it when we were kids. Dad hunted this guy down and cut out his heart. Apparently, that didn’t quite do it. But, Dean, this--this is what's gonna save you.” There was nothing disingenuous about Sam’s plan. He truly believed that following the case would finally lead them to answers.

Dean’s brow hooked and he shared a look of disbelief. “What? Chasing some Frankenstein?”

“Chasing immortality.” Sam’s words had both of his partners staring back at him, startled at the idea. “Look, Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you. I mean, you have to die before you go to Hell, right? So, if you can never die, then…”

“Sam, stop!” Dean shouted angrily and the room went still. “You’re not helping! You forget that if I try to welch out on this deal, Riley dies. Guess what? Living forever--is welching.”

“Fine! Then, whatever the magic pill is, we’ll take it too!”

Riley could feel Sam’s sincerity and she leaned her face into her hand as she rubbed her temples. “Look, Sam...I know you wanna save Dean just as much as I do. But I think Bobby’s right. If we hunt down the demon that has Dean’s one-way ticket, then maybe we can stop it. I really think it’s gonna be our best shot.”

“Say you find the Colt, then what? None of us even know who holds the contract.”

Raising his voice again as he felt his frustration grow, Dean bit back at him. “Well, I'll shoot the goddamn hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?””

“I'm staying here,” Sam said quietly, certain of his decision.

“No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out alone to find some organ-stealing freak.”

“You're not gonna let me? How are you gonna stop me?” As Sam went on, Dean appeared taken back again. “Look, man, we're trying to do the same thing here.”

“I know, but I'm going. So, if you wanna stay...stay.” Dean shook his head when Sam didn’t answer. He shrugged and took the duffel from Riley before hanging it on his shoulder.

“Come on,” he told her as they both went for the door. Sam didn’t move but they both hesitated before turning back to him. “Sammy, be careful.”

“You too.” He and Dean stared at each other for a long moment before Dean reached out for the doorknob and walked outside.

Riley’s eyes still sat on her brother lovingly. “I know you wanna save him, Sammy. You do what you think is right.”

As Riley left, closing the door behind her, Sam let out a long and drug out sigh.

------

After driving through the night, the Chevy rolled to a stop in front of an older home on a quiet suburban street. Its colors were tacky with a mix of dark red and light green. Angled tall steps led up to an elevated porch with massive weeds lined around it.

Riley and Dean shut their doors behind them as they headed up the walkway. As they reached the porch, they saw a handwritten sign that read: ‘No solicitors. That means you! No asking for directions. No selling ANYTHING!’

Under her breath, Riley muttered, “well, Rufus just sounds like a breath of fresh air.”

Dean chuckled as he rang the buzzer and banged on the metal security door. The hunters both turned to a sound and looked up to see a camera moving to focus in on them.

“What?” a harsh voice barked over the intercom.

Dean cleared his throat. “Hi, uh--Rufus?”

“Yeah...even if I am, the question is still the same. What?”

“Uh--I'm Dean Winchester. We’re friends of Bobby Singer's.”

“So?”

Riley shrugged as the two shared a look. “Hi, Rufus. I’m, uh--Riley Munroe. Listen, we heard from Bobby that the guy we’re looking for made contact with you. He’s British…”

“And so?”

“So...do you know where he is?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. Would you please tell us where we can find him?”

“No.”

“’Course not,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Look, Rufus, man…”

The two doors quickly flung open as an irritated man stood in the doorway. He was roughly Bobby’s age with dark skin, a full mustache, and short hair.

With the cereal bowl he was still working on in his hand, he studied the couple. “Look, let me point something out to you. You are knocking at my goddamn door, so don't ‘look, man’ me. I'm not your man.”

Realizing he may have stepped in it, Dean apologized with a nervous smile. “I'm sorry, sir.”

“Alright, let me tell you a little story. See, once upon a time, Bobby called me--asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Richard Lewis. I got a whiff, I called, the end.”

“Okay, yeah, if you could just tell me where he is, I mean, that would be great.”

Rufus stopped as he stared back at the young hunter. “Dean Winchester, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Dean, do I look like I'm here to help you?”

“I'm gonna say...no?”

“Then get the fuck off my property.”

Riley tried to regain the man’s attention as he began to head back inside. “Listen, that’s totally fair. But, uh--” she reached into the bag on Dean’s shoulder and pulled out a tall box with the Johnny Walker label. “We have this scotch, and, uh--we weren’t sure if it was any good.”

As Rufus eyed the bottle of his favorite scotch, he looked back at the couple and smiled with a nod of approval.

------

Inside Rufus’ home, the three sat at his collapsible card table as they each nursed a glass of Johnny Walker. The bottle was already nearly empty as they finished pouring another round.

“Bottoms up,” Dean said gruffly as they all clinked their glasses together with a soft chuckle from Rufus.

“You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the Gods, I'm telling you.”

“Mm…” Riley started as she seethed through her next sip. “I’m enjoying the change. Most of Dean’s whiskey tends to come in the form of a plastic jug.” As she shot him a look, the three hunters laughed. “Alright, so back to business. Richard was here…”

“He wanted to buy a couple of things, which is gonna take me some time to round up.”

Anxious for answers, Dean jumped into the conversation. “Where is he now?”

Rufus watched Dean closely for a moment and Riley could feel his skepticism. “You got three weeks left. Why are you wasting your time chasing after that English asshat in a suit?”

Now suspicious of Rufus, the couple shared a glance. “How do you know about that?”

“Because I know things.” The older man leaned in intensely. “I know a lot of things about a lot of people. And I know ain't no goddamn peashooter gonna save you.”

Riley and Dean grew more anxious as they continued to drink, desperate to calm their nerves. “What makes you so sure?” Dean questioned coolly.

“‘Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us...there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming.”

“Well, ain't you a bucket of sunshine?”

The room went quiet and Riley couldn’t contain the hold her abilities had on her. Her constant state of anxiety had made it nearly impossible to control her gifts and the thoughts of others had her feeling like she was drowning.

Knowing she needed a minute to calm down, Riley tossed back the last of her drink. “Rufus, you mind if I, uh--use your bathroom?”

Without a word, he motioned toward the hallway as if telling her to find her own way. Riley nodded gratefully and walked away trying to contain her urge to cry.

Rufus and Dean refocused on each other and the older hunter shook his head softly. “It was a mistake getting so close to someone the way you are with her.”

Dean thought to himself as the corner of his lip barely curled up in a gentle smile. “Nothing with Riley has been a mistake, that much I can tell you.”

“Even selling your soul for her?”

“...I’d have given more to get her back if I had to.”

With a scoff and chortle of disbelief, Rufus poured more scotch into his glass. “Love has got you by the balls, boy. It’s gonna end up costing you everything.”

“Well,” Dean replied as he swirled the liquid in his hand. “Some things are worth everything.”

“It’ll never work out with her. I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive.” Rufus smirked as he raised his glass to Dean once more. “But you won't.”

Riley’s back leaned into the wall as she listened in. Her eyes were shut and a tear freed itself to run down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and straightened herself up before walking back in to join the others.

As she sat down, Riley ran a hand through her hair and exhaled a hard breath. “So, Richard…”

Clearly quite drunk, Rufus began to slur his words; his eyes looked heavy and tired. “Hotel Canaan. Room 39. But watch your back.”

“I’m not worried about it. We can handle Richard.”

“Oh, don't be so sure about that. There are things that you don't know about him.”

“And I’m assuming that’s because you ‘know things’.”

With a look of superiority, Rufus took another sip. “Yep.” Riley and Dean waited as the older hunter took his time and drug on. “Lifted his prints, he burnt them off. Probably years ago.”

Dean nodded, not surprised with what Rufus had told them. “Yeah, so you're right where we are.”

“Nope.” Again, he stopped the pace of the conversation and waited before going on. “You do his ear?”

“...Sorry?” Dean asked, wondering if he had heard him correctly.

“You do his ear?”

“Hey, man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know. That sounds uncomfortable. I mean, to be honest, he’s not really my type either.”

“Ears are as unique to humans as fingerprints.”

“No kidding.”

“Of course, that don't fly in the courts over here, but in England, they're all over it. A friend of a friend...of a friend, faxed me ten pages of confidential files within a day. All I had to send him was one clean shot off the security camera.” Rufus stood from his seat and walked across the room to his cluttered desk. He grabbed a thick folder stuffed with paperwork and handed it to Dean. “The so-called Richard Lewis.”

------

Crickets chirped loudly through the woods as Sam pushed open an old and squeaky door to a lost cabin in the Pennsylvania forest.

Armed with his flashlight and desperate for answers, the large hunter stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and peered around the main room. Dust filled the air and danced in front of his light. It smelled of dampness and worn wood; curtains torn to shreds still barely clutching to the windows.

Sam walked through the room examining everything that caught his eye. He flipped through pages of antique books he found lying around and crouched to rifle through the small drawers of a desk. When he found nothing, he stood back up only to notice a leather journal with a strange symbol carved into the front.

Knowing he needed to be in and out as quickly as possible, Sam tucked the book into his jacket and moved on.

A large door sat prominently in the middle of the floor. Sam gripped the metal handle and lifted it open as its rusted hinges screeched. Steep steps disappeared into the darkness below him and they creaked under the hunter’s weight as he slowly descended into the cellar.

Cobwebs hung from anything they could cling to and twinkled in the beam of the flashlight. It then bounced off what appeared to be a work station of sorts. Glass bottles, assorted tools, and other odds and ends for Sam thought to be for dissection lined the wooden countertops. Shelves were stuffed to the brim with medical antiquity jars filled with disgusting fluids and papers strung about the walls.

As Sam worked through the dark room, his light landed on a man’s body lying on an old operating table. He moved closer and reached out a hand to check the stranger’s pulse only to feel the cold touch of the man’s skin. How long he had been dead was unclear, but his body was clearly opened and sewn back together before it was crudely covered in a blood-stained sheet.

The sound of gentle tapping caught Sam’s attention and he turned in its direction. It was coming from behind tattered curtains tucked away in the back. He eased his way closer trying to remain as quiet as possible to get a closer look.

Once inside, he found a woman strapped to another operating table. She was a young and beautiful brunette in a white top and blue jeans. Her arms had been stretched out beside her where pieces of skin had been removed. A collection of maggots crawled across the open wounds as the girl remained unconscious.

As Sam leaned in to place his fingers on the pulse point of her neck, the woman gasped and her eyes sprung open.

Violently startled by the girl’s immediate awakening, Sam jumped.

The desperate and terrified woman whimpered and cried as she came to, shaking and fighting against her restraints.

“Shh! Shh! Shh!” Sam repeated softly as he tried to comfort her. “It's okay. I'm here to help you. I'm here to help you. I'm gonna help you.”

With a swift glance around him, the hunter found a large sheet and began to wrap the destroyed flesh on her arms. She sobbed as his touch reminded her of the blinding pain.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He continued to shush her as he gingerly tended to her wounds.

The sound of a creaking door opening echoed through the house and the woman’s heart began to race out of control. She tried with all she had to stay silent only for her fear took over as she mewled soft but high pitched squeals.

With no other option, Sam covered the girl’s mouth.

As they looked up, a shadow blocked the light out as shoes stomped across the wooden boards. Dust fell at their movement and fluttered down onto them. Sam kept his hand in place to silence the weeping woman while his free hand moved swiftly to free her.

A small window of the cellar caught Sam’s eye and he carried the wounded woman to the wall before lifting her up and out. He softly grunted as he scrambled up behind her and picked her up into his arms once again.

Sam rushed through the woods back to his rental car as the trembling girl clung around his neck.

Once at the car, he placed her in the passenger seat as she groaned in pain. Sam ran around to the driver’s set and pulled the door closed behind him in a hurry.

As he turned the ignition, the car sprung to life. But before he could shift into gear, the glass beside him shattered as the cold hand of Doc Benton reached out for him.

The girl began to scream and backed herself into her side of the car as she shook.

The doctor looked like something out of an old horror movie. His complexion was practically grey with hair that gave the same hue. There were stitches across his face where pieces of skin had been strung together to recreate his face; wrinkles of the dead tissue were prominently indented. The trail of sutures traveled down his neck and underneath his 19th century tattered clothing. His eyes were dead, with one nearly completely white with an expressionless appearance. Doc Benton was a perfect blend of Dr. Frankenstein and his monster.

Benton took hold of Sam’s head and his fingers laced into his hair before slamming him against the wheel multiple times.

As he fought off the decrepit man, Sam wildly shifted into reverse and slammed on the gas pedal. The car roared backward as the doctor tried to hold on before he was flipped onto the hood of the car. He rolled off and hit the dirt ground with Sam’s headlights fixated on him.

Once he doctor began to pull himself up, Sam stared him down as he met Benton’s dead eyes. He threw the car into drive with his teeth gritted and rammed into the creature.

The doc was pulled underneath the small SUV and was crushed by the weight of the wheels. His body made an audible crunching sound as the vehicle bumped over him before Sam sped away with the rescued woman down the dirt road.

Unmoved by the events, Doc Benton stood to his feet once again. His neck was snapped, his head hanging at an obscene angle.

The doctor watched the car disappear into the night as he effortlessly snapped his spine back into place.

------

The hotel door opened to a dark room with the hall light barely able to illuminate inside. Richard stepped in as he closed it behind him and pocketed his keys.

Before he was able to turn around, he was charged at from the darkness and pinned to the wall. There stood a wrathful Dean Winchester with his arm against his throat, his gun pointed at Richard’s face.

“Where's the Colt?” Dean snarled.

Trying to appear calm even as he was threatened, Lewis calmly replied, “Dean. Good to see you, old friend.”

“No extra words.”

“It's long gone, across the world by now.”

“You're lying.” Grabbing the briefcase in Richard’s hand, Dean tossed it onto the bed.

“I'll call the buyer. Speak Farsi?”

From the shadows, Riley sauntered toward the two with her gun aimed and ready.

“Riley, so good to see you.” As Lewis’ words were spoken, Dean leaned his weight into his throat, causing him to choke ever so slightly.

“Dean…” When he looked over to her, Riley nodded for him to step away. She walked to Richard still standing at the wall as he rubbed the tender muscles at his neck. Her eyes met his and she grabbed his jacket pulling him close.

Richard chuckled under his breath with a look of excitement. “Ooh, there’s the firecracker I remember…”

Quickly frisking him to check for a weapon, Riley took hold of the gun she had found on his waist and held it up.

“Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself.” She reached across him and flicked on the lights as Dean went to search the briefcase. “Don’t...move…” Riley seethed as she backed away to aid her boyfriend, leaving Richard standing against the wall.

“I told you I don't have it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean snarked. “I'm definitely gonna take your word for it.” He turned his back and dumped the contents of the case onto the bed coming up empty-handed.

Riley rifled through the drawers as Richard slid along the wall toward the door.

As he turned to his partner, Dean scratched his nose signaling for Riley to listen. “This shitbag telling the truth?”

All she could do was shrug before speaking back to him telepathically. “I can’t tell. I can’t get in his head. He’s scared as hell, I can tell you that much.”

“Good. He fuckin’ should be.”

When Richard tried to inch away, a gunshot was fired and Lewis grunted at the shock of the bullet missing his head by inches, going clear through the door. He froze and looked back at Dean who stood with his gun still aimed. The hunter was serious with his threats and Richard knew it.

“Don't fuckin’ move.”

Lewis’ breath had quickened and his brow creased with anger. “It's gone. Get on a plane if you must. Track down the buyer--you might catch up to him eventually.”

While Riley bounced her attention back and forth between Richard and her search for the Colt, she watched as Dean marched toward him aggressively. Once in front of Lewis, Dean pointed his weapon to his rival’s forehead and his face twitched with wrath.

Twitching a little with nerves, Richard asked, “Are you going to kill me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean answered with a coy smile.

“You're not the cold-blooded type.”

“You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my parents.”

Flabbergasted, but attempting to regather himself, Richard kept his face deadpanned. “I don't know what you're talking--”

“Yes, you do,” Dean interrupted firmly. “You were, what, 17? Folks died in some shady car accident. Police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Richard--oh, I'm sorry, David...inheriting millions.”

Riley looked Richard in the eyes, seeing how taken back he was. “That’s your real name, isn’t it? David?”

With a sigh of defeat, Richard conceded. “How did you even…”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Grabbing Richard’s hand in an attempt to connect and read his thoughts, Riley was suddenly met with flashes of memories. It was like watching a movie in fast-forward. She saw moments in time of Richard’s childhood and the unending bruises, cuts, and broken bones through the years.

One moment in particular slowed down as a teenage Lewis laid helpless on the floor, crying and shaking after taking a terrible beating. His father’s footsteps retreated out of the room leaving Richard alone in agony.

As Riley released her hold on him, she was thrust back into the present and blinked rapidly trying to regain her composure. Richard glared at her skeptically, unsure of what had just happened. “They hurt you, didn’t they?”

“What?”

“You made a deal to be free of them--to be free of what you’d been put through your entire life.”

The emotions in Richard shifted and Riley could feel it all. His hard swallow of pain rang through her no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

With a tone Riley had never heard before, Richard’s voice went softer. “You don’t know anything about it. They were lovely people, and I killed them--and I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don't care what happens to your Neanderthal boyfriend.”

Again, Dean pushed him roughly against the door with his arm shoved into his throat as the hunter’s jaw clenched. He stared Lewis down for a long and tense minute before growling, “you make me fuckin’ sick.”

“Likewise, Winchester.”

Dean took a step back and held up his gun with a smirk. There was no doubt that Dean wanted the man dead and Richard closed his eyes as he braced for the gunshot.

“Dean…” Riley whispered into his mind. She looked up above the door and his eyes followed hers. A strand of woven herbs was dislodged from the ledge above the door.

Taking a moment to think, Dean stared him down. When nothing happened, Richard opened his eyes and Dean dropped his pistol to his side.

“You're not worth it.” The Winchester grabbed Lewis’ arm and shoved him off to the side before opening the door and leaving.

Riley stopped and her focus went back to Richard. “I’m sorry about what happened to you.” Her eyes welled and her jaw ticked in anger. “But I’ll never forgive you for what your selfishness is about to cost me. Goodbye, Richard.”

As she too disappeared and shut the door behind her, Lewis lifted his hand that had a scrap of paper that he uncrumpled to look at. It was a motel receipt for ‘The Erie’ that he had pick-pocketed from Dean, showing its address and the number of the room rented.

Reaching into his pocket, Richard took out his phone and quickly began to dial. When someone on the other line answered, he told them, “it worked. They found me. No, Sam wasn't with them. But I know where they are.”

------

Baby roared down the highway through the night as Riley made a call while Dean drove on. She put it on speakerphone as the line rang before Sam picked up.

“Riley, you guys get the Colt?”

“What do you think?” Dean asked, utterly frustrated.

“So, does that mean Richard is, uh…”

“No, no--he deserves to die a dozen times over, but I couldn't do it.” Looking over to Riley, Dean was hit with a wave of realization that while still without the Colt, they had no chance of saving him.

As his glance went between the road and the woman beside him, Dean nodded as he clenched his lips. “I’m really screwed, guys.”

Riley sighed. “Dean, don’t talk like that.”

“Sam, you were right. Dick was a goose chase. The Colt’s gone, and this time, I’m really fucked.”

As Riley rested her elbow against the door, she put her forehead into her hand trying to control herself until Sam jumped back in. “Maybe not. Look, Dean, I found Benton's cabin.”

“You okay? Was he there?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No.”

With a look of uncertainty, Riley asked, “no? Why not?”

“Guys, please just listen for a second. I found his lab book, and it has the formula.”

“You’re talking about his zombie formula?”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “It’s not a zombie formula.”

“Let me guess,” Dean started as he resituated in his seat. “I got to drink blood out of a baby's skull?”

“No, that's the thing. It's not black magic. There's no blood sacrifice or anything. It's just science, Dean. Very, very extremely weird science, but…”

Again the couple shared a glance as a small flicker of hope rushed through them.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean said as he fumbled over his words. “What are--what are you saying? You think…”

“Dean, I think it might be doable. I mean, I know we've hit a shit ton of walls, but I--I think this formula--I think it might be it. This could save you.”

“Okay, so, this formula…”

“Well, I mean, look--we're not in the clear yet. There are still things that I don't get…” Before Sam could finish his sentence, the sound of garbled grunts and a struggle came through the line.

“Sam?” Riley asked with worry.

With fear and panic in his eyes when he didn’t answer, Dean called out, “Sammy!”

------

Strapped to a wooden operating table in Doc Benton’s damp cellar, Sam’s eyes were wide as they were taped to stay open. His heart was racing and his attempts to free himself were useless against the restraints at his forehead, wrists, waist, and feet.

“You can relax. It's all gonna be okay,” Benton told the hunter as he softly tapped his arm. “Ain't nothing gonna happen here that you got to worry about, Sammy. Your chances of coming out of this procedure alive? Very, very high.”

“How do you know my name?”

The doctor held a metal scooping tool to an open flame and ensured that it had been entirely warmed. “Oh, I know. You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you? Well, I got to tell you, I have never done one thing that I did not have to do. This whole eternal-life thing is very high-maintenance. If something goes bad, like my eyes here--” he told Sam as he leaned over to show off his faded dead eyes. Benton’s cold fingers traced Sam’s forehead as he admired the hazel eyes staring back at him. “You got to replace them. And sometimes things get damaged, like when your father cut out my heart. Now, that--that was very inconvenient. So, I'm sure that you can understand all the joy I felt when I read all about myself here in his journal.” Holding up John’s hunter’s journal, the doctor flipped to a specific page and flashed it in front of the trapped Winchester. “Kind of makes this whole thing just feel like some kind of family reunion, don't it? Well, I guess it's about time that we get this thing started.”

Tossing the journal off to the side, Doc Benton brought the scooper close to Sam’s open eyes. He began to position the tool to remove them completely. The hunter trembled and grunted as he still tried to get free.

Three loud shots rang out as Benton was shot from behind. He turned to see Dean with his gun still raised, though he grew nervous seeing that his attack appeared to have done nothing.

“Shoot all you want.” The doctor approached Dean who let loose two more rounds.

Grabbing him, Benton threw Dean into the wall causing him to crash against assorted items and glass. He groaned at the impact before falling to the ground. As the half-dead man grew close to Dean once more, he leaned down and hovered over him.

A small grunt came from behind him as Riley thrust her blade into the doctor’s back. It went clear through and pierced his heart. He stood erect again and laughed.

“A knife? What part of immortality do you not understand? Pity about the heart, though. It was a brand-new one.”

“Glad to hear it,” Riley retorted while softly panting. “Guess that means it’s gonna be pumping really strong…” She held up a bottle of chloroform with a mischievous expression as Benton began to wobble. “I mean, now this junk is gonna spread through your entire body. You see, Dean and I picked up your little bottle upstairs. A little dip of the knife and...presto.”

With a look of shock as he began to lose consciousness, the monster collapsed to the floor with a moan.

------

Doc Benton’s cries for release came from the freshly dug hole in the ground. Inside, was a refrigerator strapped shut by heavy metal chains. They clanged against the porcelain as the doctor tried to escape.

“No! No! Don't! Stop it! I can help you! No!”

Riley tossed Benton’s book into the hole to disappear along with the monstrous man. “Should’ve been in the ground a long time ago. Better late than never, I guess.”

“Dean...” Sam said softly as his family turned to face him. “We need that formula. I mean, we're talking hell in three weeks, or needing a new pancreas in like half a century.”

“Yeah, well--you can't exactly get those at a Kwik-E-Mart,” Dean countered.

“It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better. We just need time, Dean. I mean, please, just--just think about it.”

Staying silent, Riley closed her eyes as Sam’s emotions swelled over her like a tidal wave. She could feel his desperation and undying love for Dean. It didn’t matter what the cost, Sam was ready to pay that price to save his brother. And as much as Riley felt the same, she knew Dean too well; there was no way we would ever agree to an existence like Doctor Benton’s.

“...no. What he is, isn't living. Look, this is simple to me, okay? Black or white; human, not human. See, what the Doc is is a fuckin’ monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to Hell.” With one last look into the deep ditch where Benton continued to plead for his freedom, Dean took hold of a shovel. “Enjoy forever in there, Doc.”

As the three hunters began to fill the hole with the freshly dug soil, the muffled screams continued.

“Let me out! I can save you! No. Don't!” The Doc wailed as he was slowly planted in the Earth.

------

The Eerie was a cheap motel that barely had enough business to stay afloat. Its neon lights had random letters flickering as their bulbs died.

On the second floor, Richard’s ridiculously priced shoes tapped against the cheap concrete flooring. He picked the lock of the door and opened it with ease.

As he stepped inside, he drew a gun from his coat and quietly entered. He raised his pistol and pointed it toward the two beds in front of him.

Richard fired three shots through a silencer into the bodies lying under the covers; two in one bed and one in the other.

He moved closer and turned on the bedside lamp. The clock beside the bed showed it was 11:56 PM and he swiftly pulled back the covers. As he did, he revealed a sex doll slowly deflating. When Lewis checked the other bed, two more dolls continued to lose the air that hissed as it seeped out.

Disoriented and clearly in a state of urgency, Richard’s eyes darted across the room. His attention was stolen by the loud ringing that came from the phone on the nightstand.

Picking it up, he put it to his ear.

“Hiya, Dick,” Dean snarked from the other end of the line. “Here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that motel receipt.”

With desperation in his voice, Richard replied, “you don't understand.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, Rye and I noticed something interesting in your hotel room--something tucked above the door. An herb, Devil's shoestring? There's only one use for that--holding hellhounds at bay.”

As Dean went on, Richard sat on the edge of the bed as he began to accept his fate. His eyes grew red as they filled with tears and he swallowed the massive lump in his throat, threatening his air.

“So, you know what we did? We went back and took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago...today. You didn't kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Dick? And it's come due. Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal--our gun for your soul?”

“...yes.”

Riley could be heard sighing as she interjected. “It wasn’t enough though, was it? Taking the Colt?”

“They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam...and you, Riley.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. But you’d think you’d know by now Richard, demons aren’t exactly trustworthy partners, are they? ...and it’s almost midnight.”

“Riley, I’m out of time and I’m out of options,” Lewis choked out with a broken voice. “I need your help. I know I don’t deserve it.”

“Do you deserve our help? No, you don’t. But the saddest part of all of this? If you would have just told us you needed help, we could have used the Colt and saved you from this mess.”

“I know and saved Dean as well. I know about his deal. The demon that holds it--she holds mine too. She said she holds every deal.”

“Who’s she?”

“Her name's Lilith.”

“Lilith?” Dean scoffed incredulously. “Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn't, but it's the truth.”

“This can't help you, Dick--not now. Why you telling me this?”

Richard paused as a tear fell down his face. “Because just maybe you can kill the bitch.”

The line went quiet as the hunters were lost in thought. It was Dean that broke the silence. “I'll see you in Hell.”

Dean hung up and Richard was left alone in the motel room as he listened to the deafening dial tone coming from the phone.

The receiver clicked as he hung up and the old clock flipped as midnight made its deadly appearance. Beads of sweat poured from Lewis’ face as deep howling came from the distance. He stood to look out the window, pale with fear.

Closer vicious growls came from behind him and hot panting breath blew through his hair. Lewis inhaled a sharp breath as his eyes squeezed shut.

His time was up, and the pits of Hell were waiting.

------

S3 Finale Prequel: Just for Tonight

Wayward Hearts Tag List: @waywardmoeyy @00slayer @adoptdontshoppets @arctusluna @salt-n-burn-em-all @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @becs-bunker @squirrelnotsam @fandommaniacx @death-unbecomes-you @themoonandotherslikeit @x-waywardaf-x @flamencodiva @aaspiringhero @gemini0410 @love-nakamura @klinenovakwinchester @cemmia @deans-baby-momma @paintballkid711 @da5haexowin @a-manduhhhhh @winchestergirl82 @spnbaby-67 @sandycub @bunnybaby121115 @erins-culinary-service @lauravic @moonxdance @knights0fkylo @panicatthewestwing @screechingartisancashbailiff @wiredandwayward @the-children-of-the-stars @rosey1981 @mylovelydame21 @titty-teetee @walkingchemicalfire

29 notes · View notes

letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 years

Note

i was mostly wondering how you would’ve handled the reylo storyline? here’s the thing, i’m such a sucker for a trash ship (hello garcy) but i am so not a reylo shipper (finnrey!! you saw me in a way no one else has come oN they were RIGHT THERE DISNEY UGH). however, i thought their kiss at the end was objectively kinda cute (and i loved the ben solo redemption arc cause i’m a trash human), but it was so random based on how they were presented throughout the trilogy?? (part one)

(part two) you’re an amazing writer and lover of trash as well, and i was wondering if you had to construct the reylo arc, how you would’ve handled it? this is purely an objective thing because the end scene made me realize that they had potential, like garcy level potential, to be a really good dynamic and ship, but it was just handled so poorly everywhere overall, it makes me want to go back and be like “now THIS is how you do a trash ship, not whatever actual garbage you tried to pass off”

(again if you don’t want to that’s 1000% okay cause it was so gross i’m just bitter at the trilogy as a whole cause i don’t understand why they all didn’t decide on an overarching plot for all three and then direct/write their movies based off that????? like????? how?????? good?????? writing????? is????? supposed?????? to????? happen??????) (part three) 🤗

(thank you and i love you) (part four)

Aww you are so sweet anon, thank you! Much love and kisses and hugs to you! I hope that you’ve been having a good holiday season, disappointment over Star Wars notwithstanding.

I would also like to thank you for your patience–it’s been a crazy few days, with the holidays and all, so it took me a little bit to get around to this.

This will get long, I’m sure, so it’s all behind the cut! I apologize for how this turned into complete rambling. There is no structure to this. I’m sorry.

Now, I love a properly done, slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers ship as much as the next feral hyperfixating moron, but so few people do it properly. An enemies-to-lovers ship that’s done properly is one that has two people be enemies because of equally valid but opposing moral viewpoints or, takes the time to show the ‘enemy’ character a) recognize that what they’re doing and have done is wrong b) apologize c) make reparations d) continue to improve in their behavior and do good, not to win back favor or make reparations but because they have seen the error in their ways and they want to keep doing good for its own sake.

The example of the first is Flynn/Lucy from Timeless. Flynn and Lucy start out as enemies, and as we learn over the course of the first season, Flynn is actually the hero. He’s the one who is opposing the white supremacist bullshit cult trying to take over the country/world. Flynn, out of grief and desperation, does things that are morally questionable and objectionable, and through his interactions with Lucy, tries to hone and adjust his plans. Lucy on the other hand has the more “moral” standpoint aka let’s not kill people, etc, but she’s working on behalf of the evil bullshit cult. Their viewpoints are opposing but equally valid and the joy of season one is watching them start to fumble their way to meeting in the middle so Rittenhouse can be defeated.

An example of the second is Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender. Now, I’m not going to call out any particular ship here, but no matter who you ship Zuko with, it’s only possible for you to do that because he spends seasons and seasons of television making up for his mistakes. We see him slowly come to question his motives and actions, realize he’s wrong, and take steps to apologize and make reparations. After he does that, he then continues to do good. He doesn’t say, “well I apologized and then I taught the Avatar how to firebend so I’m all good now bye!” He continues to fight the good fight, and not because he wants a reward or praise, but because he knows it’s the right thing to do, and he wants to do the right thing.

So right away, we’re off on the wrong foot with Kyle Ron.

I don’t give a flying piece of monkey fuck what any other books or media say about Kyle’s fall to the dark side. Most people are only going to watch the films and in the films, all we know is that there was darkness sensed in him, Luke thought about killing him (which is a shitty piece of characterization that I will never forgive Rian Johnson for and trust me he can throw whatever arguments he wants at me with his I’m So Woke White Guy Persona and I can and will destroy every inch of his arguments and his brain but that’s a story for another time), Snoke started talking to Kyle or rather Palpatine as it’s explained in a quick ham-fisted explanation in TROS, and Kyle goes and MURDERS A BUNCH OF HIS PEERS WHO ARE ALL CHILDREN AND TEENAGERS, THEN PROCEEDS TO BECOME A SPACE NAZI.

…yeah that sure doesn’t sound to me like a traumatized child trying to make his father proud (Zuko) or a grieving widower and father trying to fight white supremacists and destroy their organization with full knowledge that he’s breaking his own moral code to do so (Flynn).

So yeah, right away, we gotta fix that.

The next thing we gotta fix is his first interactions with Rey. The Force Awakens didn’t set Rey and Kyle up to be romantic at all. He tries to mind rape her with his Force abilities, for crying out loud. And this is after he mind rapes and tortures Poe for information with his Force abilities. Then, after his father offers him redemption and love, he kills him–right in front of Rey, who had come to see Han as her adopted father.

Never once does Kylo Ren apologize for any of it. Not. Fucking. Once. Not even a simple ‘I’m sorry’. What the fuck.

I wouldn’t have him hurt Rey in any way. Capture her, okay, but not hurt her, certainly not try and force himself into her very mind. That’s not something I could ever forgive someone for doing. Sorry not sorry. Then I wouldn’t have him kill his own father after said father had offered him love and understanding and redemption. Nope.

Then, if we wanted to show the two of them establishing a Force bond et al like in TLJ, I wouldn’t have him fucking gaslight her. Saying “you came from nothing, you are nothing, but not to me” is a manipulative as fuck thing to say where you a) destroy the person’s self worth b) make them think everyone is against them and c) that you are the only person who values them. That is, as I’m sure I don’t have to remind everyone, not. healthy.

Having Kylo treat her with respect and consideration, praising her, not gaslighting her, and also um NOT TRYING TO GET HER TO JOIN THE DARK SIDE, especially after he killed Snoke. He rejects once again an offer of rejection, this time from Rey, and decides to rule the Space Nazi Army. Not cool bro.

Let’s compare that to Garcy real quick.

Flynn tries to get Lucy to help him specifically because Lucy is the person who told him to do this in the first place. He is doing things he hates doing and needs a true ally, a partner, someone he can trust and turn to for advice and assistance. Lucy’s refusal to budge on her moral stance even once she knows about the existence of Rittenhouse is actually a problem because it draws out the conflict between her and Flynn and makes it so that Rittenhouse has more chances to succeed. Flynn goes about asking for her help in an entirely trash way which… doesn’t help either. But he never lies to her, never manipulates or gaslights her, he respects her (and makes that clear) and repeatedly, when Lucy offers him redemption (or what she thinks is redemption) begs her to explain to him how he can accept it. Lucy repeatedly says to Flynn, “please do abc in order to be the honorable man I know you are,” and Flynn’s response to that is, “but will that mean that my terms of xyz are fulfilled.” They’re negotiating a treaty, essentially. Flynn needs certain things so that he has a guarantee that Rittenhouse is defeated, and until he gets that, he cannot accept Lucy’s offers despite making it clear he wants to.

Kyle Ron, incel fuckboy, does not do this. He instead kills his ‘mentor’ and assumes the throne as supreme leader after manipulating Rey and gaslighting her and then tells her to join him or die. Not… the same thing… at all.

Basically the whole Reylo thing suffered because there was never originally an intention for Reylo to be A Thing. Rey and Kylo Ren were set up in TFA to be opposites and to be enemies. Then in TLJ we got an enemies-to-lovers setup that was done incredibly poorly with gaslighting and manipulation and no effort on Kylo Ren’s part to actually apologize or atone for any of his behavior. How can anyone possibly have seen good in that boy? Because he talked to Rey a couple times across the galaxy when she was too far away for him to kill?

So to make Reylo work, you have to go back to TFA and completely change the setup, the character interactions, and THEN you get into TLJ and you have to change how Kylo Ren talks to her. Perhaps his decision at the end after murdering Snoke is to stay so he can destroy the First Order from within because he knows that if he doesn’t, someone else will just step up into Snoke’s place–you can’t just erase an entire movement just because one leader is gone, although that is a pretty big blow. Something like that.

THEN in TROS you wouldn’t have to change much at least as far as Kylo Ren and Rey’s interactions because you would’ve established them from the start in TFA and left out the blatant emotional abuse in TLJ. Oh, and have Kyle say he’s sorry and do some actively good things for other people BESIDES Rey so that we actually see him doing good. Someone realizing they did wrong is not the end of a redemption arc, it’s the START of one.

And the guy can’t only do good things for his love interest. Nope nope nope. Going, again, back to Garcy, over the course of season two we see Flynn a) save Rufus’s life several times and care about him b) give Denise a pep talk and come to an understanding with her c) support and praise Mason d) give Wyatt advice that Wyatt didn’t even deserve and e) joke about giving Jiya a hug (and would’ve given her one if she’d wanted it) and protect her in Chinatown.

Flynn mostly interacts with Lucy because she’s the person who gives him a real chance and opens up to him, but he’s there for the others as well and we see that. To get the same from Kylo Ren, we’d need to see him apologizing to and doing good things for Poe, Finn, etc.

Again: Reylo sucked ass because TFA didn’t set it up to be a romance. TLJ made it all worse by making the romance actually A Thing and using emotional abuse to do it, but TLJ really didn’t have much of a chance to make it a Good Thing anyway because it was building off of what TFA started, and TFA started off on the wrong foot if you want a romance between those two.

Personally, I think that there just isn’t enough time in three movies to pull off a really solid Zuko-style redemption arc for Kyle. There are too many other characters to worry about and too much else to deal with. So the answer would be to make Kyle Ron more like Flynn, but that would completely change his character, so… it’s a vicious circle of going around and around trying to make something work when the framework, the foundation, is just not going to let you do that.

How would I do Reylo? Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t do Reylo in the first goddamn place because I am so FUCKING sick and tired of white boys getting redemption arcs. I know this makes me a hypocrite because I have written 50+ fics of Wyatt Logan, The Most Whitebread of White Boys, earning his redemption, but I wasn’t starting from scratch there (and if I get a chance to make a boring white het person into a queer as fuck person, thereby actually making them interesting, then I’m taking that chance). And if I’m starting from scratch, if you’re giving me this new trilogy and saying “here are the characters, do with them what you want,” I ain’t having one more fucking lily-white privileged-ass bitch motherfucker be the “hero” because he said he was sorry and he looked longingly at the pretty girl a few times.

The trilogy gave us Poe and Finn. Two excellent, handsome as fuck, kind, loyal, good-hearted men who were fighting to save the ones they love and the galaxy. I would marry the fuck out of both of them. I wouldn’t do Reylo.

But if you put a gun to my head…

…no wait I don’t fear death that’s a bad analogy…

…if you put a gun to a kitten and told me I had to do Reylo, that’s how I would do it. Go all the way back to TFA and have Kyle Ron treat Rey with respect, never try to force himself into her mind or torture her, I’d have him not be nearly so murderous in the first place and I wouldn’t have him throwing tantrums left and right, and I wouldn’t have him MURDER! HIS! FATHER! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!

Then in TLJ I’d start to show his conflicts, have the Force bond be established but have him talk honestly with Rey and open up to her instead of having him manipulate her and try to get her to the dark side at every turn. I certainly wouldn’t have him keep telling her that they’re meant for greatness together and all that bullshit while she kept telling him no, stop, go away, I don’t want this. You know that what kind of scenario reminds me of? A man continuing to push and do things when the woman told him to stop? You know what that makes me think of?

Yeah, I bet you do.

At the end of TLJ he would not just murder Snoke and take the throne, he’d be shown in the middle of a moral quandary so that we’re given a nice and satisfying emotional cliffhanger for his storyline for us to look forward to seeing resolved in TROS. Then, TROS, at that point eh I’d leave that pretty much the same, because it would WORK, BECAUSE THE GROUNDWORK HAD BEEN LAID PROPERLY IN TFA AND THERE WOULD BE NO BULLSHIT EMOTIONAL ABUSE AND MANIPULATION IN TLJ.

So there you are, nonny. I contribute anyone enjoying that last bit of Reylo in TROS to Adam Driver’s admittedly good and dedicated acting, and I hope that my answer explains my (rambling) train of thought and explains how I would do things. But to be honest I really wouldn’t do Reylo in the first place, the whole thing sickens me, I want to set the entire Disney studio buildings on fire, and if anyone tells me they ship Reylo I can and will stop talking to them for the rest of my goddamn life because they are not to be trusted and I can successfully hold grudges for decades.

…wow, I’m just a pillar of rage.

Thank you for your very lovely asks, nonny! I hope that this satisfies. If you have any follow up questions, don’t hesitate to ask them! I admit this wasn’t a very structured response but I hope it explained everything. Have a beautiful day and give yourself a hug!

#mads answers things #anti reylo #anti kylo ren #star wars spoilers #FLAMES #FLAMES ON THE SIDE OF MY FACE #I really hope I explained all of this well #I feel like I was just kind of word vomiting

13 notes · View notes

atopearth · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy VII Remake Part 4 - The Intervention of Fate (Ch 15-18) + Overall Review

Seeing the destruction of Sector 7 alongside the sunset was really beautifully saddening. It’s devastating for Tifa and Barret to have to look over it all knowing that their actions caused this. Even if Shinra framed them for it, even if Shinra were the bad guys who killed all these people and everyone’s homes, there’s no doubt that what Tifa and Barret did ended up pushing them into doing this, and it’s hard to have to carry such a burden. On another note, I never thought I would complain about this because I loved the shipping fanservice in the beginning, but can we please calm down with the amount of times Cloud has to hold and save Tifa in some way?! Yes, I like Tifa too, but I’m not sure if there was a battle or scene where Cloud did not save Tifa/Aerith or hold their hand or something. Like yes it’s nice to see, but it’s honestly too much, I’m dying. I feel like a lot of the time it’s pushing the romance more than anything and it kills me because the original prioritised telling the story. And honestly, if you think about it, it’s kinda weird, they make it seem like Tifa and Cloud are really close friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time, but in reality they’re practically strangers in a sense because when they were children, Tifa never really thought much of him, the only time something about Cloud resonated with her was when he told her he was leaving to go become a SOLDIER and probably when he came to her rescue (fulfilling their promise) when Sephiroth slashed her. And it was only after she received letters from Cloud after he joined Shinra that she began to notice him more, so honestly, if we’re to be picky, this was supposed to be a more awkward period between Cloud and Tifa because Tifa liked and cared about him, but she didn’t know how to show it properly since Cloud always liked her but she never really cared. Whereas for Cloud, his memories are jumbled, so he’s awkward with her for a different reason lol. Anyway, I think I would have just liked more tension between their relationship? Because right now, it just feels like everyone loves Cloud because he’s cold but soft on the inside, so he’s a great cinnamon roll or whatever, but it really doesn’t show the depth to their characters and their relationships. I’m starting to think this remake is really just fanservice for old FFVII fans rather than a proper retelling. I mean, I’ll still like it, but it’s just a bit sad.

Well, Shinra Company is fancy. Tifa jumping on the lights to get the Shinra keycard was interesting but honestly tedious, I think I’ve had enough of these tbh lol. Anyway, I was going to run up the stairs in this remake, but then I realised the camera was making me feel sick so I just went back to what I did in the original; bust in the front door and go on the elevator lol. Although I have to say, I honestly enjoyed the original more where it had more of the feel where we’re busting in from the front door haha. That memorial museum was pretty, but honestly boring lol. Like, whyyyy is there so much maintenance going on?! I seriously thought they did a full on museum tour and I was like, that’s pretty cool, but no, I learnt basically nothing, sigh. Maybe that VR movie was cool to see, especially since it kinda explains that Ancients were the ones who discovered Mako energy and helped create materia, and I guess the graphics were pretty. But I think it felt like such a spoiler to show Sephiroth walking in the Shinra building, it just doesn’t really build any tension. I really only wanted to see the blood trail lol. Anyway, Hart is someone I don’t remember at all so I assume he’s a new character? Or is he that guy who you had to decipher those codes to or something? Haha. But anyway, I guess if he’s been changing the security camera feeds then does that mean Cloud and them won’t get locked up in a cell? Okay, the Shinra building was so… uneventful and boring lol. Like, I wasn’t exactly looking for a replica but I honestly thought it would be more…fun? It was legit so boring and so not memorable compared to the original. No code deciphering, no plate moving, no special treasure chests, no running past guards secretly, nothing! Literally just that Shinra training facility and other useless things like the museum and archives that don’t even have books to read! I think the most enjoyable thing was going around trashing the chairs everywhere because I didn’t even mean to move them, but Cloud running around just naturally destroys them lol. Yes, totally infiltrating “quietly”. But seriously, Shinra building is definitely a letdown right now. Scarlet’s ruthlessness was just...whatever too lol.

Sigh, I kinda really wanted to see the gym and the napping room lolll. I guess it was nice that we got to see them go through the air duct in the bathroom to spy on the President’s meeting, but stilllll. I mean, they didn’t even let me explore the women’s bathroom! C'mon! I don’t need this kind of realism in my game! I want to explore!! Maybe I’m just getting ahead of myself and it’ll be better.. Anyway, Hojo looks as creepy as the person that he is lmaoo, and being Reeve is suffering, considering he’s the only one that seems to care about the people. The idea of Hojo having all these monsters in his research lab is disturbing lol. I found the explanation and existence of the Whisperers…unnecessary, they’re basically things that are there to stop the party from changing the predetermined fate of this world. Like, I kinda knew already with considering where they always appeared etc but ugh. Oh well, whatever. Red XIII is pretty hot. He looks older than I thought though, he looks more like what I would expect his father to look like tbh lol, I mean Bugenhagen always said Red XIII was practically a kid in terms of his species lifespan!!

I’m sad that the Turks Theme doesn’t have that clicky sound to it that made it sound cool anymore, sigh. I’m also kindaaa disappointed that they seem to be pushing with the Turks the idea that they’re quite..nice? Like, maybe it’s just me, but despite how “cool and nice” the Turks were in the original, what I loved about them the most was their work ethic and how it’s a lot of dirty work, but it’s their job and they have a sense of pride to it. Whereas sometimes in this remake, I kinda feel like, they question their job too much when they know what it entails? Like, I really wanted to see Rude catch us in the elevator LOL. Anyway, Sephiroth appearing near Jenova and slashing the bridge they were standing on in retaliation of Cloud attacking him was interesting…not too sure what to think about it right now because it felt rather random tbh lol. I guess we are definitely not getting the jail cell time, which is more disappointing than the boring Shinra building tbh. Not only did the cell time really give you time to bond with everyone in their cells, it also really highlighted how sudden and scary it was to see a trail of blood, and all these Shinra company men’s bodies as you slowly climb the stairs to realise what happened.

Btw, lmao at Red XIII pushing down handles, it looks so awkward because it seemed like he was struggling so bad hahahah. The Drum was an annoying place, I hated changing materia around between the two parties. Like whyyy can’t I just change the whole line of weapon and armour materia (like in the original) instead of slowly doing it one by one?! Aside from that, this was a boring place too lol. I guess the only nice thing was seeing Tifa and Aerith get along so well lol. Anyway, Jenova’s blood trail was much more pretty and fascinating than ominous tbh lol, it really gives a completely different feel to the actual blood trail in the original. It’s cool in its own regards though I guess. Okayyy, wow, I’m starting to think that this is becoming pretty ridiculous. Like it was obvious Barret won’t die because you know, these Whispers know that it’s not his fate to die here, so of course they’ll somehow save him, but now it’s just silly? Like, sure it’s not his fate to die here but was Barret such a crucial person to the “fate” that can’t be changed? Anyway, so basically everything that happened in the original is probably the “fate” that must be followed, but at the same time they’re just changing up things to make it as convenient as they want to for the story. Honestly, that segment with Barret and President Shinra was so cliche, I wanted to bang my head watching it because it was so unnecessary. I think he should have just died like in the original. Like all the mental agony of saving him or not, and then President Shinra showing how much of a crap he is was just so ugh, like was that really important? What did we expect him to be like? Did we really need to see this? Even seeing the sword pierce them was so whatever at that point because I’m starting to think the story is realllyyyyyy getting “basic”. Also, showing Wedge being here but not being able to change or do anything because “he’s not a part of fate” was just ridiculous. Like seriously, we get it, don’t these Whispers have anything better to do? I mean, I really wouldn’t say that the original timeline is the best timeline to follow for this world but okay, whatever they want.

Anyway, I’m sad that Rufus doesn’t have orange hair!! Hahaha, but that’s fine, since he still looks pretty hot. I love how he still has his dog!! Rufus was so annoying though, like seriously, I’ve had enough of bosses that just counterattack you, and you have to find the exact moment for an opening to deal damage zzzz. Otherwise, it was really cool to fight Rufus, this was starting to become the only thing I was looking forward to lol. Kinda sad you don’t actually fight Arsenal(?) that robot in the elevator anymore though. The fight took so long because I didn’t realise what I was supposed to be doing lolll. Cloud is taking lessons from Roche in getting crazy with the motorbike haha, seriously though, the motorbike and the blue car is so nostalgic. I did enjoy how alike the original, if you bothered looking (well it was more obvious in the remake) you actually see the motorbike and the car in the building haha. Not sure about Cloud throwing his sword scaring off the Shinra soldiers though, like dude, your sword could have fallen out of the building! Anyway, I knew it was coming, but I honestly hoped it didn’t, and that is…the second round of the motorbike game!!! Yes, the thing I sucked at the most in the original and in this remake as well, and what do you know, they just upped the difficulty with a boss! Not gonna lie, I legit died a few times because I had no idea how I was supposed to kill him, and when I realised how to do it, my skills were lacking, so yes, it took me a while. I was pretty frustrated lol, I mean, snowboarding is my worst enemy too but I never had to do it more than once! This game is just bullying people like me who suck at this mini game, sigh T_T It is pretty cool though. HOWEVER, it would have made life much easier if Red XIII threw a potion at me whenever I was dying and not just in between the battles, sighhh~

Anyway, this whole going into another dimension that Aerith says will change the course of events where we’ll now forge our own destiny or whatever by killing the Whispers who are trying to convene fate to be as it should flow like in the original story is…weird to say the least of it. Sephiroth wasn’t too difficult to beat, but I found the whole fight in this place weird and cliche, with all the “memories” of the original timeline coming to Cloud and them, and for them to destroy all that to change their fate. Okay, Zack is alive? Like, I was kinda thinking it would be interesting and funny if Zack were to survive but hmmm, not sure what to think of it. Well, the different dog probably indicates it’s a different timeline/world but that doesn’t really stop the writers from creating a story where he can jump to their world or whatever. Biggs is alive? Is everyone alive lol? Like, I guess Cloud and everyone are planning to alter fate so ensuring everyone survives is what they want, but at the same time, I’m just baffled at this ending. I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. It really doesn’t help that the dialogue is so… bland? Useless? It’s so flowery with no substance imo. Maybe in the next part we’ll get to see Zack’s new world line from his perspective and then their worlds can connect or something lol. Anyway! I’ll say, I don’t like or dislike the ending because honestly, with all the changes that happened with the Shinra company, I already lowered my expectations to the max lol, it also helped the ending was kinda spoiled to me before I even played the game, so I knew it wouldn’t be a faithful remake, but is instead more of a FFVII-2 kinda deal. But I still find the way things played out really disjointed and cliche. The whole chapter 18 suffered the most in dialogue and story tbh, because honestly, I’m not sure if people who haven’t played the original would really get it, and would they really get the importance of Zack lol. It’s just annoying that they decided to throw all this at the end when everything else was Shinra and Shinra. And yeah, I see why they made the Aerith and Cloud “romance” so subtle you couldn’t feel anything about it, it’s probably because they want to make it more of a Aerith and Zack thing for this remake, which is understandable, but kinda saddening because that changes a lot of things in terms of how you’ll feel about it all.

Overall Review Overall, let me attempt to put together how I feel about the whole thing. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about how to write down my feelings for days or weeks but I still don’t know what to say of this disappointment LOL. Tbh, I think the thing I would have appreciated the most would be Square Enix telling me that this wouldn’t be a faithful adaptation of the original with HD graphics and extended story/scenes. Because if I didn’t have that expectation, I wouldn’t have felt as mixed about the ending as I am now. People seem to hate on people for being disappointed at expecting that it would be a faithful adaptation, but really, what did you want a lot of the old fans to expect? The game itself is riding on a nostalgia train yet it’s our fault for thinking it would be faithful? Even the Japanese commercial rode on the nostalgia train with a guy happily talking about the iconic scenes in the original and being excited that he’ll be able to experience the remake with people who don’t know it. They clearly wanted old fans to join the hype and then sucker punched them to the gut with the ending. Thankfully, I knew what was coming so I survived but honestly, aside from hopefully still getting to see other iconic scenes, I’m not really interested in how the story will play out. I hate stories involving stuff like time travel and branching timelines etc most of the time, especially when time travel is not the main focus of the story. This isn’t something like Chrono Trigger. I think my biggest problem though was that considering how much of a slow burn 80% of the game was, the fact that once we got to the Shinra building, everything just lacked detail and felt so rushed into that...ending. My biggest problem isn’t the ending itself, but how everything led to that ending, because it was really dissatisfying to watch. Like, honestly, on paper, it’s not a bad idea, it would be interesting to see how things could play out with the unknown etc, but really, the way they did it with the obnoxious Whispers throughout the story, alongside the out of nowhere ending really killed the experience.

I’m probably being whiny at this point but really, the main gripe I have with the ending is that it makes me think that the writers thought it would be “boring” to just redo the original with extended stories because “everyone knows the story already” kinda thing, and it also kinda implies as if the original was “perfect as it is”, which I honestly have to disagree with. I love the original FFVII but honestly, a lot of things could have been told better without feeling as disjointed as some things were, like it was nice to uncover bits and pieces etc, but a lot of things also relied on you yourself to find it, so it’s easy to miss things. For example, without a walkthrough, I honestly didn’t realise there was that scene in the Shinra mansion where you could actually see Zack die. I also feel like integrating Yuffie and Vincent in the story more would have been something good to focus on in the original because Wutai is important, the Lucrecia, Hojo and Vincent story is important, but because they were optional, it wasn’t always something people found. I just feel like for the story FFVII is, it was really unnecessary to make it more convoluted than it is, because now it’s just detracting from what made this game good. Like, maybe it might be interesting with this time travel stuff, but at the same time, this isn’t really FFVII anymore, all it has is iconic scenes in HD as fanservice. Which kinda makes me mad, because they so blatantly shove in your face FFVII fanservice for like 90% of the game and then they just show this ending, like okay. I’m not even sure the Weapons are that important anymore because who needs them to come out to protect the planet if the Whispers (like really, are they even dead?) are around? It’s just the stakes for everything have become so high where it’s involving fate and time travel etc. what is the point of the stuff that are limited to being inside this planet that is being controlled by the Whispers of fate? Well, whatever, I could complain all day here and I would still feel dissatisfied.

Anyway, nevertheless, I still enjoyed most of the game. I had my gripes here and there with the changes, but most of it was done really well, and I still liked it a lot. I mean, Wall Market is so beautiful and went beyond my expectations! The detail they put into the graphics and stuff really blew me away and I couldn’t stop taking screenshots. I also liked how they made Avalanche a bit more personal to Cloud. Although I really enjoyed seeing Aerith, Tifa and Cloud fanservice though, sometimes I felt like the scenes were just that, like just fanservice and it kinda got tedious. The side quests throughout the game were also quite boring imo. Like, I don’t expect anything groundbreaking from them, but they were really boring story wise and gameplay wise. The “puzzles” such as climbing across on those hand bars were so tedious and slow, I was annoyed lol, it’s so clunky to do! I’ll take the stupid crane any day. And the battle AI kills me. I know you’re supposed to swap between characters to build up ATB but man would I appreciate if the ATB charged up faster or if the AI wasn’t so useless. Barret not doing his job shooting sentry turrets and Tifa guarding against enemies not attacking her from ten miles away made me want to strangle someone. Like, it’s not terrible, but it definitely wasn’t enjoyable enough for me to care about playing hard mode. Lol, I’m back to complaining, but honestly, if I played the remake without knowing the original, aside from the graphics, I’m not sure if I was really into the story at all. Not saying it’s bad, but Midgar was always kinda like the beginning of the beginning so it’s really not that interesting in itself, and the bland story telling didn’t help imo, I guess the good thing was that it solidified everyone’s relationships? Anyway, I’ll still play the other parts because it’s FFVII but I think if it becomes something like Lightning Returns etc, I really just might drop it. For now, I’ll just go along with the ride, right now, things are just a 7/10~

P.S I think what I’m most sad about right now is that I won’t have the same feelings I had when I bought the remake. Since I live in Australia, the copies were sold before April 10th, so really, I cancelled my pre-order and went to the store and bought it myself after work. I was really excited to have it and get to play it because even though a lot of the things weren’t the same, it felt really nice to relive that experience of joining Cloud and them on their journey again. I really liked it and thought the reinterpretation to fit the more serious mood and everything was nice, but I’m honestly disappointed that I won’t be as excited to continue the journey in the next part. It’s the first time in a long time since I felt so excited for a game to come out, so it’s saddening, but I guess this is what it is.

#final fantasy vii remake #ffvii remake #ffvii

3 notes · View notes