#I could be drawing but here I am talking about the way the fish people sound

[semisentientseafood]

Something kinda small I really like about side order is the amount of scene-specific dialogue voice clips there is. This is absolutely corn plate level stuff but this is my tumblr so I’ll yap about tiny things like this as I please

In octo expansion, outside of a small handful of scenes, majority of the talking sounds are just the same as they are on the news, slightly changing with expression depending on what’s being said as they normally do. If you go and replay/rewatch parts of octo expansion Pearl and Marina’s dialogue gibberish won’t always sound the exact same in the same places as it’s just grabbing randomly from their voice strings with slight variation depending on expression.

There’s a bit more of these scene-specific voice clips in return of the mammalians, though similar to octo expansion they’re still pretty limited to one-time intro or ending type stuff such as Frye’s shouts when deep cut appears in early and late alterna. Side order however’s got a buuunch of these, still mainly in cutscenes but not as limited to just high-action parts of scenes. Majority of the cutscenes in side order will sound the same every time when it comes to the characters talking in them.

(I would’ve put this scene in video here as an example but there’s another video below and tumblr doesn’t like more than one video on posts 💔)

I really like that they did this cause the characters’ voices sound a lot more appropriately expressive for the situations they’re in. Even though they’re saying “sbdbjwsnsbjd” you can still clearly pinpoint a tone of voice, and sometimes the clips will even kinda match with the cadence of the phrase being said/dialogue speed which I think is Pretty Neat

(There’s way more examples of this but again tumblr hates multiple videos)

Also double appreciation here shoutout to every Pearl drone animation ever but this is a post abt voice clips so I’ll relate these things to each other. The scene when Eight and Pearl first find Marina agitando I really like cause along with the scene-specific worried Pearl voice clips they do a great job conveying her distress in her animations even though she’s literally just a sphere with eyebrows and wings

Anyways I don’t know why I wrote this long of a post on the expressiveness of “wsjdncgsgsh” talking sounds but nobody stopped me soooo enjoy the ramblings of someone who likes this game a normal amount

#I could be drawing but here I am talking about the way the fish people sound #there were like 5 video examples I wanted to include but noooooo #i love splatoon !!!!!!! #i’m normal #splatoon #splatoon 3 #side order

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Series Masterlist

(Slight TW: Reader has a minor panic attack on the first scene. As someone who suffered with panic attacks frequently, I wrote it to the best that I could explain from my experience. You can skip if you'd like but it partly adds to the plot.)

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Y/N's POV

Fire blasting and burning down a house.

A woman with her two young kids at the window, screaming for help.

A lamp cord wrapped around Sam's neck choking him to death.

Dean with an ax in his hand, knocking down a wall, then a knife flies at him, stabbing him in his heart.

People screaming for mercy.

My eyes fly open after being screwed shut. Realizing it was all just a dream I try to catch my breath. I can feel my head stinging with a horrible headache. I woke up drenched in my own sweat that's running down my neck and forehead. I look over frantically at the beds next to me to see Sam and Dean still asleep on their respective beds. I push my covers off and run into the bathroom. Splashing my face with cold water.

What was that? Was that a vision? It couldn't be. I'm not psychic like my mom, if I was it would've shown up long before. Holy fuck. Am I late bloomer or some shit? It felt way to real to be just a dream. No no no this can't be happening. I couldn't be psychic. I can't be. It should've shown up sooner.

God how I going to explain this to the boys. Are they gonna hate me? I'm overthinking. If I don't stop I'll start to hyperventilate. Calm down girl CALM DOWN. Relax. Just count like dad always thought you when this happens.

I could feel my heart racing, it's beating escalating by the second. Practically pumping out of my chest. I struggle to get air into my lungs, I could feel my breathing falter as my mind swirls, the images of that family burning alive, the agony they went through. My palms begin to clam up and I could feel my head growing lighter.

"One...breath...Two...breath...Three..." I whisper to myself counting until ten. My back presses against the door as I slide down it. I curl into a ball, pulling my knees to my chest. Crying, begging for that to not be a vision. Please just be a dream. Please just be a dream. I don't want to be psychic. I can't be. I can't be. I know it's supposed to be a gift but I don't want it!!

I hear light knocking on the bathroom door, "Y/N/N? Is everything okay?" I hear Deans soft voice outside, concern seeping through his tone. I sniffle and scoot to the side, opening the door. His face drops when he sees me on the floor, my tear stained face buried in my hands.

"Princess...what's wrong?" He instantly wraps his arms around me, sinking in the floor next to me and I bury my face in his chest sobbing. I could feel everything in that dream. Everything that those dying people were feeling. "I-I d-don't wan-" I struggle to get the words out, coughing through my tears.

"Hey shhh, it's okay sweetheart. I've got you" He coos in my ear, patting my head soothingly. "Was it a nightmare?" He asks me gently. "I don't know" My voice cracking. "It's okay, you don't need to talk about it. I'm here. Just let it out" He whisper into my ear, giving me a kiss on my forehead and the top of my head.

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"Alright, I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig" Dean tells us but my mind is still stuck on the dream I had last night, currently I'm drawing the house I saw in my dream. Something about it seems so familiar but I can't pinpoint what or why.

I'm sitting across from him at the desk on their motel room while Sam is on his bed, drawing like me. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, it's crew vanished" He says, taking a sip of his coffee. "And uh...we've got some cattle mutilations in West Texas" He continues to list. "Hey!" He calls out to me and Sam annoyed, we look up from our pads.

"Am I boring you two with this hunting evil stuff?" He asks us, glaring. "No. I'm listening. Keep going" Sam says quietly. "Yeah, me too. Continue" I say, looking back down at my pad with the drawing. "And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times" Dean emphasized the last part.

"Any of these things blowing up your skirt, princess?" He asks me, waving his hand in my face. I scan over my drawing and something clicks in my head. "Wait, I've seen this." Sam says. "Holy shit." I whisper to myself. "What?" Sam asks going to his bag to get something.

I go into my bag and pull out an old picture my dad had with him, mom, John, Mary and a four year old Dean outside of their old house. "What're you guys doing?" Dean asks Sam. Sam pulls out an old picture of Mary and Dean. Comparing it to the picture he drew of a tree and it was identical to the tree in the picture behind them.

"Look at this" I show Sam the picture of the house that I drew and the picture of our parents and Dean as a kid, behind is John and Mary'a old house...identical to the one that I drew from my dream. Sam is stunned by this, "You saw it too..." He said lowly and I nod shakily.

"Dean. I know where we have to go next" I say shakily. "Where?" Dean asked confused. "Back home. Back to Kansas" Sam says and Dean seems shocked by this. "Okay, random. Where did that come from?" He asks us. "Alright, these pictures were taken infront of our old house, right?" Sam takes the picture from my hand and his picture, showing it to Dean.

"This is house where your mom died?" I asked. "Yeah." Dean confirms looking at the picture. "It didn't burn down completely like Y/N's parents house. They rebuilt it, right?" Sam asks. "I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you guys talking about?" Dean asks us confused. "Okay look. This is gonna sound crazy but the people who live in your old house...I think they might be in danger..." I trail off looking at Sam.

"We think they might be in danger" Sam says. "Why would you guys think that?" Dean asks. "Uh..just...um..Look just— You gotta trust us on this, okay?" Sam stutters trying to come up with an excuse, grabbing his bag and I go to grab mine. "Okay, whoa, whoa. Trust you?" Dean gets up from the table as we pack our stuff.

"Yeah" Sam says. "Come on guys. That's weak. You gotta give me a little more than that" Dean says. "I can't really explain it is all." Sam says. "Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you do" Dean says annoyed and Sam turn to him sighing. "I have these nightmares" Sam begins. "So do I" I add. "I've noticed" Dean says sympathetically, probably due to my episode last night.

"And sometimes...they come true" Sam says and Dean is stunned. "Come again?" Dean asks. "Look, Dean..I dreamt about Jessica's death for days before it happened." Sam tells him. "Sam, people have weird dreams man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence" Dean assured him, sitting on the bed.

"No. I dreamt about the blood dripping; her on the ceiling, the fire. Everything and I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it" Sam argues. "It's true Dean. Days before me and my dad argued. I dreamt about it, I dreamt about me leaving and before you try to feed me that psychology bullshit. I'm not gonna eat it. Just listen to us. Please." I plead with him and Dean sighs shaking his head.

"The day Jessica died...I had this erring feeling that something bad was gonna happen all day. Then we heard Sam scream...." I confess and Sam looks at me shocked. "Really?" He asks. "Yeah. I'm sorry Sam I didn't k-" I go to say but he cuts me off. "It's not your fault. It's okay. You don't need to apologize" He assures me with a small smile and I sigh.

"Look Dean. We're dreaming about that tree, about our house and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean. That's where it all started man. This has to mean something right?" Sam tries to reason frustrated. "I don't know" Dean says shaking his head.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask him frustrated. "Dean. You found me on the floor last night crying. It was because I dreamt that! Exactly what Sam saw, I did too!" I exclaim and he looks at me shocked. "I felt the pain, the misery, the anguish, everything. As if I was there" I tell him, tears forming in my eyes. Don't be a little bitch y/n, tough it out.

"This woman might be in danger. I mean this might even be the thing that killed our moms and Jessica!" Sam exclaims. "Alright. Just slow down would you?!" Dean yells, getting up from the bed and walking over to the desk. "I mean, first you tell me you two have got the Shining and then you tell me that I've gotta go back home. Especially when..." Deans voice is shaky as he trails off.

"When what?" Sam asks. "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there" Dean says sadly and my heart drops. I didn't even think about that. Dean saw everything that happened to his mom that night and then heard about everything that happened to mine. Of course he wouldn't want to go back. Gosh I feel so stupid and selfish now.

"Dean..." I say softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it like that" I apologize, putting my hand on his shoulder comfortingly and he looks down sadly. "Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure" Sam pleads. And he looks back at Sam with anguish in his eyes, then back at me he sighs. "I know we do" He says understandably.

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The boys and I pull up to their old house, by just the look on Deans face you can tell it's already hard enough on him. "You gonna be alright, charming?" I ask him softly, concerned. "Let me get back to you on that, Princess" He says quickly, staring at the house.

We all exit the Impala and walk towards the house. I take the initiative to knock on the door and after a couple seconds a young blonde woman answers it...the same woman from my dream. My breath hitches in my throat when she comes into view and I notice Sam is taken back by it too. Holy fuck it was real.

"Yes?" She asks us sweetly after opening the door. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. But uh we're with the Federal-" Dean goes to lie but Sam cuts him off. "I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean and our best friend Y/N L/N. Umm...we used to live here. Y/N used to live down the block" Sam says, I notice the look of panic on Deans face when Sam spills the beans.

"You know, we were just driving by and the boys were wondering if we could come and see the old place" I say sweetly. "Winchester and L/N....Yeah that's so funny. You know I think I found some of your photos the other night" The woman says with a smile on her face. "You did?" Dean asks shocked.

She looks at us hesitantly for a second before inviting us in. "Okay, come on in" She opens the door wider and we all look at each other with a pleasant smile on our faces towards her and enter. She introduced herself as Jenny as we follow into the kitchen behind her to see a toddler boy, no older than 3, in his crib bouncing up and down chanting.

The second I entered, I felt a heavy sense in the house. I could feel a weight on my chest, like I couldn't breath when I entered. It felt dark, evil, brooding...I couldn't explain it but it wasn't good whatsoever. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"Juice, Juice, Juice" and a young girl probably around 10, seemingly doing homework at the kitchen dining table. "That's Richie. He's kind of a juice junkie." She introduces her son, going into the locked fridge and getting a sippy cup with juice.

"But hey. At least he won't get scurvy" He smiles at him, giving him his juice. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Y/N. Sam and Dean used to live here." Jenny tells her young daughter, Sari, at the dining table. "Hi" Sari says with a pleasant smile on her face. "Hey, Sari" I say sweetly while Sam and Dean wave at her.

"So you just moved in?" Dean asks. "Yeah. From Wichita" Jenny informs us. "You got family here, or..?" I ask curiously. "No, I just..uh..um..needed a fresh start, that's all" She stummers on her words as we nod. "So new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house" She says with an awkward smile.

I look at the corner of my eye to see an unease but sad smile on Deans face. "So, how are you liking it so far?" Sam asks. She turns to us a bit unsure, "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home...I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here...but this place has its issues" She puts it vaguely.

"What do you mean?" I ask concerned. "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." She explains and that sets alarms off in my head. "Well, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asks. "Um...Sinks backed up. There's rats in the basement" Jenny further informs us and Deans frown deepens.

She realizes how it might sound and quickly apologizes, "Im sorry. I don't mean to complain" She says sincerely but he smiles reassuringly. "No. Have you see the rats or have you just heard scratching?" Dean asks. "It's just the scratching, actually" She says lowly. "Mom?" Sari calls Jenny over.

"Ask them if it was here when they lived here" Sari says and our faces drop. "What, Sari?" Sam asks her. "The thing in my closet" She says. "Oh, no, baby. There was nothing in their closets. Right?" Jenny tries to convince Sari and herself, turning to us for back up. "Right. No, no, of course not" I tell Sari nicely with a smile on my face.

"She had a nightmare the other night" Jenny tells us. "I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire" Sari insists and the boys and I share bewildered looks.

We're now walking out of their old house and as soon as we left, the feeling I was getting when we entered the house was gone. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I've never felt this was on other hunts before, I can't tell why I felt like that in Sam and Deans old house. It makes no sense.

"You hear that? A figure on fire" Sam says a bit panicked as we leave the house, walking down the porch. "And that woman, Jenny, that was the women from your dreams?" Dean asks us. "Yeah" I confirm, "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit" I list off as we walk towards the car.

"Yeah, well. I'm just freaked out that the two of you guys weirdo visions are coming true" Dean says roughly and I roll my eyes. "Thanks" I grumble sarcastically and his face drops when he remembers that my mom was psychic. "Y/N I'm so-" He goes to apologize but I cut him off. "Forget about that for a second" I say bluntly.

"The thing in the house, you think its the thing that killed our moms and Jessica?" Sam asks. "I don't know" Dean says frustrated. "Well, I mean. Has it come back or has it been there the whole time?" I ask. "Or maybe it's something else entirely guys. We don't know yet" Dean argues. "Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house" Sam defends.

"And we will." Dean says and goes to go into the car but I stop him, "No, we mean now" I argue. "And how you gonna do that huh? You got a story that she'll believe!?" Dean gets into my face and argues back. "Then what are we supposed to do?!" I yell frustrated, taking a deep breath.

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"We just need to chill out, that's all" Dean tells us as he filled up Baby with fuel. We're all at a gas station, Sam outside leaning against the car next to me while I'm smoking a cigarette. "If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" I ask as I take one last drag from my cigarette before flicking it on the ground and crushing it with the heel of my boot.

Sam takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house." He answers, walking over to Dean who's by the trunk. "Exactly, except this time we already know what happened" Dean says. "Yeah but how much do we even know? How much do you actually remember?" I ask Dean gently, walking over to them and leaning against the trunk next to Sam.

"About that night you mean?" He asks. "Yeah" Sam says and Dean shakes his head. "Not much. I remember the fire. The heat...." Dean says taking a deep breath, reminiscing on the events of the unfaithful night. I could see the flash of emotions as he talks about it. "....then I carried you out the front door" Me and Sam head snap up when Dean says this.

"You did?" Sam asks surprised. "Yeah. Why. You never knew that?" Dean says casually. "No" Sam shakes his head. "And, uh, well you know Dad and Mr. L/N's stories as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. And so was Mrs. L/N. Whatever put them there was long gone by the time our dads found them" Dean says trying to suppress his emotions.

I just stare at the floor as he talks about it. A lump growing in my throat. I never knew my mom obviously. Granted neither did Sam. Hell, Dean knew my mom more than me. Dean used tell me about when he was little, my mom and dad used to babysit him every so often whenever John and Mary needed the assistance.

He always loved being around my mom because apparently she used to make him pie. Apple pie, his favorite. She used to sneak him slices to carry home because his mom didn't want him eating too much sweets. From what I can tell, they shared a really close bond.

He absolutely adored her and I can tell that when he found out the same thing happened killed my mom, it truly affected him. He lost two mother figures in a span of a couple months, I may have never known my mom but by the stories I've heard. I know she was an amazing woman that I'd wish to be like someday.

"And they never had any theories about what did it?" Sam asks Dean. "If they did, they kept it between themselves" Dean says, turning around to lean against baby with us, me in the middle of the boys. "God knows we asked them enough times" I scoff. "Okay, so if we're gonna figure out what's going on now...we have to figure out what happened back then...and see if it's the same thing" Sam says.

"Yeah. We'll talk to our dads friends, neighbors. People who were there at the time" Dean says nodding. "Does this feel like just another job to you fellas?" I ask ironically. Sam chuckles dryly but Dean doesn't answer. Taking it into thought before excusing himself, "I'll be right back, I gotta go to the bathroom" He says walking away.

"Yeah, me too" I say to Sam, walking towards the bathroom. I'm just a couple feet behind Dean, when I bend the corner I see him dialing a number into his phone and put it to his ear. "Dad....I know I've left you messages before. I've left F/N messages and so have Y/N. I don't even know if you get them" He clears his throat lightly.

"But I'm with Sam and Y/N. And we're in Lawrence...and there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not...but.." He trails off before taking a deep breath. "I don't know what to do" His voice cracks when he says this and my heart sinks in my chest. I could just cry hearing the way he sounds so defeated. "So, whatever you and Mr. L/N are doing. If you two could just get here....Please" He pleads.

"I need your help, Dad" He finishes, sounding like he's in the verge of tears before hanging up the phone. He turns around to see me, his face dropping probably at the fact I just heard everything. "Dean..." My tone is sad, concerned and soft. As I say this, his head drops and it's like the dam broke and he couldn't hold back his tears.

I rush over to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, his arms wrap around my waist. I pull him close as he buries his face into my hair on the side of my neck sobbing. "Hey shhhh, it's okay darling. I've got you" I coo soothingly into his ear while he sobs softly, his body trembling. "We'll find them, I promise. Okay?" I pull away and take his face in-between the palm of my hands.

"I promise" I say again, a little more firmly. He nods weakly as I wipe away some of his tears with my thumb before pressing a kiss to his cheek and holding him again tightly. "I'm here, just let it out" I say softly as I rub my fingers in his hair.

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"So you, John Winchester and F/N L/N. You guys used to own this garage a long time ago?" Dean asks Guenthur. After calming down and leaving the gas station. We all decided to go to our dads' old garage they owned together with an old friend of theirs and ask him a couple questions. "Yeah, we used to. A long time ago" Guenthur says chuckling a bit, he then turns to us wiping his hands with his rag.

"Matter of fact, it must be 20 years since John and F/N disappeared. So why are the cops interested all of a sudden?" He asks us suspiciously. "Oh, we're reopening unsolved cases. The Winchester and L/N disappearances are a couple of them, seeing as they're closely related" I say professionally and the boys nod along in agreement.

"Well, what do you wanna know about John and F/N" Guenthur asks us. "Whatever you remember, you know? Whatever sticks out in your mind" Dean says. "Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that. And F/N was a bit of a dick but boy that man could put down in a drinking contest" He tells us chuckling and we all chuckle along with him.

"And whatever the game, John hated to lose, you know? It was that whole marine thing. And F/N, despite whatever he had a heart of gold. He had this tough way about him, you know he's seen some shit" Guenthur chuckles and I nod along listening. "They sure loved their wives. Mary and M/N. And they dotted on their kids" He says.

I see Dean's face drop again at the mention of our moms. "But that was before the fires?" I ask. "That's right" Guenthur confirms. "They ever talk about what happened those nights?" Sam asks. "No. Not at first. I think they were in shock." He tells us. "Right. But eventually. What did they say about it?" I ask.

"They weren't thinking straight. John kept saying something caused that fire and killed Mary." Guenthur says. "They ever say what did it?" Dean asks. "Nothing did it. It was an accident. An electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something" Guenthur assures us. "I begged F/N to get him some help instead he bought into it and uh...." Guenthur explains to us and trails off, looking down.

"And what?" I insist. "Well they just got worse and worse" He tells us. "How?" Dean asks. "Oh, they started reading these strange old books that F/N had. F/N took him to this palm reader in town that was friends with M/N" He told us and Dean looks over at me. "Palm reader? Do you have a name?" He asks him. "No" Guenthur scoffs.

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Later we're by a pay phone and Sam's going through the phone book while Dean and I lean against baby. "So there are a few psychics and palm readers in town." Sam tells us. "There's uh, someone named El Divino. There's the mysterious Mr. Fortensky." He says the last part chuckling.

"Uh, Missouri Mosley. Some dude named—" He goes to continue but Dean cuts him off. "Wait wait. Missouri Mosley?" Dean asks. "What?" Sam asks confused. "That's a psychic?" He further questions. "Yeah. Yeah I guess so." Sam says and Dean gets off of baby and opens the backdoor, grabbing John's journal.

"Dad journal. Come here look at this" He tells us as he opens it and we walk over to take a look. "First page. First sentence. Read that." He hands me the book and Sam stands next to me. "I went to Missouri and I learned the truth. What F/N was telling me was true" I read out loud off the page and look back up at the boys.

"I always thought he meant the state" Dean says.

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After we found Missouri's shop location in the phone book. It wasn't too far so we hopped into baby and headed on over. Now sitting in the waiting area, a dark skinned middle aged woman comes out talking to a middle aged man.

"Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you" She assures the man, smiling. "Well, thank you" The man thanks her and leaves. When he leaves she looks at us and takes a deep breath, "Poor bastard. His woman is cold banging the gardener" She tells us and I cock my eyebrow at this.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asks and she turns to us. "People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news" She tells us bluntly. "Well. Sam, Dean and Y/N, come on already. I ain't got all day" She says a bit annoyed and we sit there stunned. Guess she really is a psychic.

We follow behind her into what looks like her office. "Well, let me look at you" She smiles laughing. "You boys grew up handsome" She compliments them. "And you, Y/N. Oh you look just like your mother. As beautiful as ever" She says sincerely to me, a bit of tears in her eyes. "Thank you" I say softly.

She smiles at me and then turns to Dean. "And you were one goofy looking kid too" She turns to Dean laughing while me and Sam snicker. "You ain't wrong there" I mutter and Deans head snaps on my direction, giving me a slight glare. I scrunch my nose at him before flashing him a wink and he rolls his eyes scoffing, Missouri's eyes glances between us for a couple seconds with a sly smirk on her face.

She then takes Sam's hand with a smile, "Sam. Oh, honey" She gasps sadly, her smile dropping. Sam seems a bit weirded out by this. "I'm sorry about your girlfriend" She tells him sincerely. "And your fathers. They're missing?" She asks us and we're all surprised, taken back at her accuracy.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asks. "Well...you were just thinking it just now" She tells us. "Where are they? Are they okay?" Dean asks concerned. "I don't know" She tells us. "Don't know? You're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean asks a bit annoyed. "Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?!" She exclaims annoyed while Dean looks like a little boy being scolded by his parent.

Me and Sam stifle our laughter at Dean being told off. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please" She orders us, gesturing to some chairs and the boys take a seat. I don't hold back my laughter anymore. "I like you Ms. Moseley" I smile at her and she flashes me a grin. "Please. Call me Missouri" She says and I sit inbetween the boys.

"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!" She suddenly snaps at Dean and he freezes. "I didn't do anything" He says defensively. "Well, you were thinking about it" She shoots back and he looks at us before shrugging. Me and Sam smile at the sight and stifle our laughter.

"Okay. So our dads. When did you first meet them?" Sam asks her. "They came for a reading. A couple months after Mary died, it was also a few days after M/N died" She says sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. "F/N referred him to me because M/N was a good friend of mine. I just convinced John about what was really out there in the dark because he wouldn't believe F/N. I guess you could say, I helped draw back the curtains for him" She explains to us.

"What about the fires?" Dean asked. "Do you know about what killed our moms?" I ask. "A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing" She tells us. "And could you?" Sam asks and she shakes her head. "I don't..." She hesitates.

"What was it?" I ask shakily. "I don't know." She says. "Ohhhhh....but it was evil" Her voice goes low and my breath hitches. Missouri looks at me and narrows her eyes. "You felt it didn't you?" She asks me and I look down. I notice the boys heads snap over at me shocked. "I don't know what I felt. But it wasn't good" I say.

"So what? Y/N's psychic too?" Dean pipes up. "No" "Possibly" Me and Missouri say at the same time. "It's not possible" I shake my head. "I would've known by now" I say firmly and Missouri frowns. "There are such a thing as late bloomers. It is possible Y/N. You could be unintentionally blocking your abilities on your own" She tells me.

"How?" Sam asks. "I can't say. Only Y/N would know" She says gently, looking at me. I shake my head and I notice the boys give me a sympathetic look. "So, you think somethings back in that house?" Missouri asks us changing the subject which I am grateful for. "Definitely" Sam says nodding.

"I don't understand" Missouri sighs. "What?" I ask. "I haven't been back inside but I've been keeping an eye on the place and it's been quiet. They never rebuilt F/N's old house. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?" She questions.

"I don't know. But our dads going missing and Jessica dying and now this house....all happening at once, it just feels like something is starting" Sam replies and I nod in agreement. "That's a comforting thought" Dean says sarcastically.

________________________________

We convinced Missouri to come with us back to Sam and Dean's old house to take a look at the place. Now knocking at the front door, Jenny answers with her son Richie on her hip. "Sam, Dean, Y/N" She breathes out a bit relieved, looking like she was just frightened. "What're you doing here?" She asks us.

"Hey, Jenny." Sam says softly. "Um, this is our friend, Missouri" Sam introduces Missouri. "If it's not too much. We were hoping to show her the old house. You know? For old times sake" Dean says nicely as Missouri smiles at Jenny who looks at us a bit awkwardly.

"You know what? This isn't a good time" Jenny denies and goes to close the door. "Listen Jenny, it's important- OW!" Dean tries to budge but Missouri smacks him upside his head. "Give the poor girl a break. Can't you see she's upset?" Missouri snaps at him while Sam and I bit back our laughter.

"Forgive this boy. He means well. He's just not the sharpest tool on the shed. But hear me out" Missouri turns to Jenny, pleading with her nicely while Dean glares at her. Sam and I are shocked by this but try to stifle back our snickers. "About what?" Jenny asks, exasperated.

"About this house" Missouri states. "What're you talking about?" Jenny asks us but I get the sense she knows more than she's letting on. "I think you know what she's talking about" I chime in, giving her a knowing look and she looks down guiltily. Missouri flashes me a small smile before turning to Jenny.

"You think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?" Missouri adds and Jenny takes a deep panicked breath. "Who are you?" She asks us. "We're people who can help. Who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us just a little" Missouri says calmly and Jenny hesitates a little bit before obliges, letting us in.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it" Missouri says as we walk into Saris room. "Why?" Sam asks. "This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened" She informs us. Sam looks visibly nervous, his Adam's apple bobs as he takes a look around the room.

As I look around the room I could feel the darkness surrounding the room that I felt earlier, this time. It's a lot heavier, more potent. It didn't feel like just one thing. It felt like there's a ton of dark shit in here and it's not letting up easily.

Dean seems a bit nervous too as he pulls out his EMF meter, powering it up. Missouri turns to him and asks, "That an EMF?" He looks up, "Yeah" He responds. "Amateur" She scoffs and he glares at her a bit. She walks around the room, touching various items and Deans EMF goes off a bit, the red lights and noise blurring.

"I don't know if you kids should be disappointed or relieved but this ain't the thing that took your moms" She tells us and we're all stunned. "Are you sure? How do you know?" Sam asks shakily. "It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different" She explains to us.

"What is it?" Dean asks and she walks over to the closet, opening it. It felt like a flash of energy just came out of it as she opened it. "Not it. Them. There's more than one spirit in this place" Missouri states and I gasp lowly. "You felt it too didn't you. Don't deny it" She turns to me.

"I-" I stutter on my words, not able to explain. I can't be psychic. I just shrug, not looking her in her eyes that are narrowed in my direction."What're they doing here?" Dean asks. "They're here because of what happened to your family" She says, walking back to us. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walks this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes wounds get infected." She explains.

"I don't understand" Sam says. "This place is a magnet for paranormal energy" She elaborates and turns looking around the room. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead" Missouri says morbidly and I feel a pain in my chest. "You said there was more than one spirit" I say.

She turns to me and nods in confirmation. "There is" She says and walks back into the closet. "I just can't quite make out the second one" Missouri says and asks me. "Can you?". I struggle to answer. "I don't know. But all I know is this don't feel good at all" I say shakily. "Well one things for damn sure. Nobody's dying in this house ever again" Dean states firmly.

"So whatever is here, how do we stop it?" He asks Missouri.

________________________________

We're all now sitting downstairs in Jenny's living room and Missouri set out a bunch of stuff on the table. "So what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asks curiously as he sits by the table. I'm sitting next to him, my chair turned backwards with me straddling it and Sam standing next to me, leaning against the table with his hands.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt. A few other odds and ends" She lists off, pointing at each item. "Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" I ask. "We're gonna put them inside the walls, in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house" Missouri explains.

"We're gonna be punching holes in the drywall, Jenny's gonna love that" Dean replies with sarcasm, looking at me and Sam. "She'll live" Missouri retorts. "And this will destroy the spirits?" Sam asks. "It should. It should purify the house completely" Missouri responds with a nod.

"We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to....things are gonna get bad" She warns us.

We got Jenny to leave the house for a couple hours so we can work on the house. Missouri is outside escorting her to her car. Sam's takes upstairs, while Missouri takes the basement and Dean and I took the kitchen. Dean pulls out an axe and starts breaking the wall with it, putting the bag inside....just like my dream....if it's true then that means...

"Holy shit" I gasp. "What?" Dean asks me concerned. "You breaking the wall. I dreamt that. And I dreamt Sam getting strangled with a cord" I tell him quickly. "Duck!" I yell and pull him to the ground. The knife was flying towards us, it stabs the cupboard above us.

We grab a table, knocking it down and using it as a shield, knives stabbing through it. "You dreamt me getting stabbed too, didn't you?" He asks me and I nod quickly. "Oh shit. Sam!" I gasp, realization takes over Deans face and we bolt upstairs.

We run into the room to see Sam on the ground with the cord wrapped around his neck, gasping for breath. "Sam!" Dean exclaims, he tries to pull the cord off, grunting but it wouldn't budge. I see the bag with the stuff Missouri gave us to put in the walls next to Sam.

I take it up and kick a hole in the wall which part Sam was supposed to put and and chuck it in the hole. Suddenly a blast of white light takes over the house, temporarily blinding us. I cover my head with my arms and Dean does the same.

I rush over to Sam to see the cord has loosen. He takes a deep breath, catching his breath and we pull it out from around his neck, holding him up. I sigh in relief as I hold my best friend in my arms. Dean lets out a sigh too, holding his little brother.

________________________________

Later we're all back downstairs in the kitchen, that's in quite the mess. "You sure this is over?" I ask Missouri. "I'm sure" she says, turning to me. "Why? Why do you ask?" She questions. "Never mind. It's nothing I guess" I say and we hear the front door open and close.

I'm still a bit unsure about this whole thing, the place still feels a bit heavy but maybe I'm just being paranoid. I notice Sam seems uneasy about it too but he chooses not to say anything. The light turns on, "Hello, we're home" Jenny announces her presence, walking in with Richie on her hip and holding Saris hand.

She looks around in shock at the mess the place is in. "What happened?" She asks us worried. "Hi. Sorry uh. We'll pay for all of this" Sam apologizes and I notice Dean look at him like 'We will?'. "Don't you worry. Deans gonna clean up this mess" Missouri tells her and his eyebrows cock up at this.

"Well, what are you waiting for boy? Get the mop" She orders him in a motherly tone and he goes to walk off. "And don't cuss at me" She snaps and he turns back surprised. I hold back a snicker at his reaction as he goes to get the mop, mumbling to himself angrily. I chuckle at the interaction, my heart swelling a bit at the cute look in Deans face when he's mumbling like a child.

He's so freaking adorable. Wait. What? I think to myself. Missouri head snaps to me when I have this thought, a sly look on her face and she flashes me a wink. I look at her confused and she comes closer to me and whispers, "You'd be surprised at what he thinks of you". I cock my eyebrow in confusion and she shakes her head in amusement.

We all leave the house after cleaning up in a orderly fashion, turning back to Jenny and waving at her as we leave.

________________________________

"Alright so tell me again. What are we still doing here?" Dean asks us a bit annoyed. We're all outside of their old house in the Impala. "I don't know. I-I just uh-" I stutter on my words. "We still have a bad feeling" Sam pipes up. "Why?" Dean asks up exasperated. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubinstein thing. The house should be clean. This should be over" He adds turning to us.

"Yeah. Well, probably. But we just wanna make sure. That's all." I tell him and he sighs, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, well. Problem is. I could be sleeping in a bed right now" Dean groans. I look at the window to Jenny's room, she's banging on her window and it looks like she's screaming "Help!".

I nudge Sam roughly. "Sam. Dean!" I exclaim and we all rush out of the car. "You two grab the kids. I'll get Jenny!" He tells us as we run up the porch and knock the front door down. I run into Richies room and grab him, holding him to my chest. "Help! Please!" I hear screaming from Saris room.

When I run in I see Sam standing stunned at the door, what looks like a figure of a man in bursting flames while Sari is on her bed screaming for help. Sam rushes in and I hold Richie to my chest, clutching him closely. "Come here. Come here. Don't look. Don't look" He goes in and gets Sari, picking her up on his hip and we all run downstairs.

Sam rests down Sari and I rest down Richie when we get downstairs. "Alright. Sari. Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back okay, sweetie?" I tell her gently. Suddenly something grabs me and Sam by our feet, pulling up down the hall causing Sari to scream. Grabbing her brother she runs outside where Dean and Jenny should be.

The force pulls us, dragging us across the hall and into the kitchen, knocking us into the table. The force throws us all across the room, into the fridge, into the wall, across the floor, into the counter, like we're rag dolls. Me and Sam groan in pain getting to our feet.

We hear the door getting knocked doing, assuming it's Dean we go to bolt for the door but the force grabs us again, throwing us into the wall and we grunt in pain. "God dammit!" I scream, trying to pull out of the force as Sam does the same but fails while screaming.

The door finally breaks and we hear Dean yell, "SAM! Y/N!". But the flaming figure that we saw in Sari's room earlier appears again in front of us, making its way slowly to us. Our faces contort in pure fear. I look at the figure properly, my heart beating out of its chest when it comes into view clearly.

It was familiar...too familiar. A face I only saw in old pictures. "What the fuck?" Sam whispers stunned. "No fucking way" I breath out in shock. "Sam? Y/N?" We hear Deans footsteps and voice in the house. When he walks into room and aims his gun at the figure, ready to shoot.

"No! Don't! Don't!" Me and Sam yell for him to stop. "What? Why?!" Dean yells back in confusion. "Because we know who it is" Sam says. "We can see her now" I say and the figure diminishes the fire to reveal...Mary. Sam and Deans mom. Dean lowers his gun in shock, fear, confusion. "Mom?" Dean says softly. Mary takes a few steps closer to him with a small smile on her face.

"Dean" She says sweetly and tears well up in Deans eyes. She then walks over to Sam who has breathing is rugged but smiles tearfully looking at his mother. "Sam" She says softly and then turns to me, the smile growing wider on her face. "Y/N" She says nicely, tears welling up in her eyes when she turns back to Sam.

"I'm sorry" She says apologetically to him, tears streaming down both our faces. "For what?" Sam asks tearfully and she doesn't answer, she just has this look of guilt on her face. She then turns and looks up to where Sams nursery was. "You get out of my house. And let go on my son and his best friend" She demanding tone.

Right after she says this, flames engulf her own body and the burst of flames fly up to the ceiling. The boys and I try to turn our heads away but we're too stunned by what's happening. After that, the force that was pinning us to the wall falters and we're free.

The weight on my chest that I felt earlier was suddenly gone. The brooding darkness that was there, erased. We look around, gasping for breath. "Mom?" Dean whispers, looking around. Sam and I walk forwards from against the wall, "Now it's over" I say to the boys nodding.

________________________________

The next day after the events in their old house, the boys and I are outside by the Impala and Jenny hands Dean some of the old pictures she found of their family. There's one with a young John and Mary, one with my parents when they were young, another with all of our parents, one with a four year old Dean holding 6 month old Sam and another with Dean holding a 6 month old me.

Dean smiles at the photo and looks at Jenny, "Thanks for these" He says gratefully. "Don't thank me, they're yours" She responds with a smile. He hands me the picture and I put it in a box with their old stuff, I walk back up to the steps by the front door where Sam is sitting and I take a seat next to him, leaving Jenny and Dean to talk.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore" Missouri tells us as she exits the front door. "This time for sure" She assures us confidently, taking a seat next to me. "Not even my mom?" Sam asks. "No" Missouri says softly, shaking her head and Sam nods. "What happened?" I ask her.

"Mary's spirt and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out" She explains to us and then looks at Sam. "Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing" Missouri says sadly. "Why would she do something like that?" Sam asks tearfully. "Well to protect her boys and their best friend, of course" She assures us and we nod with tears in our eyes.

"Sam...Y/N, I'm sorry" She apologizes. "For what?" Sam asks a bit confused. "You two sensed it here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't" She tells us. "What's happening to us?" Sam asks. "I know I should have all the answers but....I don't know" Missouri says honestly. "Am I psychic like my mom?" I ask her shakily.

"It's possible. Very possible. Even if you don't want the gift, it's yours to bear. Only time will tell" She says softly, I drop my head nodding."Sam, Y/N. You guys ready?" We hear Dean call out to us. We get up and walk towards the Impala. "Thanks Sam and Y/N" Jenny thanks us and we give her a nod.

"Don't you kids be strangers" Missouri calls out to us. I turn to her with a small smile on my face. "We won't" Dean says smiling back at her. "See you around" She says and Jenny gives us a small wave. We hop into Baby, Sam in shotgun and me in the back, Dean starts the ignition and we're off.

________________________________

Third Person POV

Missouri enters her shop, closing the door behind her. She feels presences in her home, resting her bag down she sighs. "That boy and that girl. I mean, they have such powerful abilities. Why they couldn't sense their own fathers, I have no idea" She says, turning around in the seats where Sam, Dean and Y/N were earlier is John Winchester and F/N L/N in their place.

John takes his face out of his hands and looks at Missouri. "Mary's spirit? Do you really think she saved the kids?" John asks her, clasping his hands infront of him. "I do" Missouri confirms and John looks down at his wedding band tearfully.

"And M/N's spirit. Was she there at all?" F/N asks a bit hopefully but Missouri shakes her head. "I can assure you, she's resting peacefully. I've made note of that" She assures him, tears in her eyes thinking of her deceased friend. "John Winchester and F/N L/N I could just slap you two. Why don't you two go talk to your children?!" She angrily shouts at the grown men.

"We want to" F/N says shaking his head, John still looking down at his wedding band tearfully. "You have no idea how much we wanna see them. But we can't" John says, looking up. "I just want to see my little girl, and give her a hug. But not yet" F/N says, holding back tears. They both look over at Missouri.

"Not until we know the truth" John says, determined.

________________________________

Authors Note: This chapter is unedited so please excuse any mistake, I will be editing it when I get a chance. I hope whoever is reading enjoys!! I really do pray you guys love Y/N's character because bits and pieces of her personality come from me. I'm having so much fun writing this so don't be ghost readersss so please comment and tell me your thoughts and opinions.

Next chapter is out in a couple days so be sure to look out for that.

Xoxo.

#dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #dean and sam #sam and dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction

[fanficshiddles]

Necessary Evil, Chapter 1

So! A prompt I received from red-fish-from-a-pond has become more than just a one shot. I’ve decided to make it into a longer fic...

Prompt: Sarah was young, naive and curious, so she joined what she thought was a nice summer comune. Turns out it was a cult. Made by the god Loki disguised as a mortal (he was bored and wanted to feel adoration again). And this god really liked the new member.

Warnings: Emotional/physical manipulation, cult-like behaviour, obsessiveness.

-

Sarah had seen posters all over town for the last month, it was a simple image really, just green horns on a black background with a date at the bottom. It had a QR code, but she had always been wary of scanning it since she didn’t know what it was.

But eventually, curiosity got the better of her. The date at the bottom was today, so she decided to go for it and scanned the code.

It brought her to a website which was quite simple too. It just had one page with information:

Those who are interested in the Norse God, Loki. The God Of Mischief, meet at 24 Robson Way on the date below, at 7pm. We will talk everything Loki. Art and writings of devotion most welcome.

Snacks and refreshments will be available.

‘Huh… so it’s kinda like a commune for Loki. Well, that’s pretty cool.’ She said to herself. She had always been interested in the Norse Gods, and Loki was no exception to that. She had in-fact actually done a drawing of him a few years ago, that she was pretty proud of. Loki had been the first thing she thought of when she’d seen the horned posters around, so it made sense really.

She decided to go along, and she would take the drawing with her. What harm could it be, since she would meet new people. Which she really needed to do, she barely kept in touch with friends from high school. Perhaps this would be a new opportunity for her.

That evening, she made her way to the address from the website. She was a bit unsure when she saw it was an old abandoned building, similar to a warehouse. But when she knocked on the door and it opened itself, curiosity still got the better of her and she stepped inside.

Inside was completely different to the outside. It was pretty welcoming, was one large open space with sofas spread around, a fire pit in the middle of the room and a small kitchen area to one side with a bar. There was around thirty people there, mingling about and talking.

Sarah went over to the nearest group of people, there was four of them. They smiled warmly at her when she approached.

‘Hey, you’re new here.’ One guy said as he put his hand out towards her.

‘Yeah, first time. I’m Sarah.’ She said as she shook his hand.

‘Welcome, Sarah. I’m Matt. This is George, Hanna and Casey.’

‘Nice to meet you all.’ Sarah said with a shy smile. ‘So, how long has this been going on? And what exactly is it?’

‘All your questions will be answered soon when the leader gets here.’ Casey said with a smirk.

‘Ok… Who’s the leader?’ Sarah asked curiously.

‘Loki himself.’ Matt said excitedly.

Sarah raised an eyebrow and laughed a little. ‘Alright, sure. So is he like a cosplayer or something?’

The four of them shared a look. ‘No, the real God, Loki. You’ll see for yourself.’ Hanna said.

Sarah knew they had to be toying with her. Of course it wouldn’t be a God, he wasn’t real. It had to be some cosplayer or something. But she just nodded to go along with it.

She noticed the table near the kitchen had drinks and nibbles, so she made her way over to grab a few bites and a drink, since she skipped dinner.

‘Are you new here too?’ A girl asked as she approached for a drink too.

‘Guilty.’ Sarah smiled at her.

‘I’m Sophie.’ The girl smiled back at her.

‘Nice to meet you, I’m Sarah.’ She shook her hand.

‘I’m getting a weird vibe from this place, yet I am so intrigued.’ Sophie said as she took a few crisps.

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. I am too.’ Sarah said, glad that someone else was feeling the same as she was.

They didn’t have a chance to talk more as suddenly everyone fell silent as a door opened. Sarah turned to look, and from a side door that led to another room out walked a man. An incredibly handsome man. So damn tall, long black hair and the most beautiful features she’d ever seen on a human being. He was wearing a blue shirt with dark jeans and black boots.

As soon as he walked in, his presence just seemed to own the entire room and everyone in it.

And Sarah was hooked.

Everyone gathered around him as he went to the middle of the room, beside the fire pit. So Sarah thought it best to join them, she stood slightly to the side at the back with Sophie.

‘Welcome, everyone. So good to see all the usual faces again.’ He grinned and looked around the room at everyone, when his eyes landed on Sarah, she felt like time stopped and as if he was looking directly into her soul.

‘As most of you know, my name is Loki. And it is wonderful to have so many of my devoted fans here tonight.’ He began walking around a little as he spoke, his walk was so confident. And Sarah was surprised at how mesmerising his voice was.

‘Last week, I left you all with the task of spreading the message, which it seems you’ve all done reasonably well with, considering the few new faces I see here.’ He grinned and looked back at Sarah again, he was slowly making his way towards her as he moved around the room while talking.

‘But it doesn’t stop here. We need to continue to get our message out there, to bring more people in. So we can continue on with our mission.’

Sarah was a bit confused. What mission did he mean?

‘I know this might be a bit confusing for the newbies here.’ He stopped right on front of Sarah, she was craning her neck to look up at him. ‘But not to worry, because all will become crystal clear very soon.’ He grinned down at her and reached out to gently grip her chin, causing her heart to skip a beat.

Many of the people there were jealous of her already at the attention she received from their leader. It wasn’t often he physically touched anyone, if at all.

Loki looked at Sophie and smiled at her as well, then continued on. But Sarah swore she still felt his touch on her chin, her skin was tingling. And he smelled amazing up close, so intoxicating.

‘But before we go into details, let’s relax. Have some fun, eat and drink, relax. Get to know eachother.’

Everyone started clapping, which he clearly liked, though he waved his hands at everyone to go mingle about.

‘Hey, I’ve got a piece of artwork to put on the board, do you?’ Sophie asked Sarah as she motioned to a board at the back wall with various pieces of artwork of Loki.

‘Yeah, I do actually.’ Sarah nodded, trying to get her brain to work again. She couldn’t stop looking over at Loki though as she went with Sophie to the board.

Loki was talking with a couple of people, but he glanced over at Sarah too and smiled a dazzling smile that made her heart skip a beat again.

Sarah took her art out of her bag and pinned it up. It was a water colour, of how she thought Loki would look like. She’d taken some inspiration from various books, but as she stepped back and looked at her work, she realised it wasn’t that far off the Loki that was here. Which she thought was a little spooky.

‘So do you think he’s some major obsessive guy that likes to just act as Loki or he plays him in some play or something maybe?’ Sophie asked her.

‘I’m not sure. This whole thing is a little… odd. Not really what I thought it would be. But then, I wasn’t really sure what to expect.’ Sarah laughed a little nervously.

‘Yeah, me neither.’ Sophie agreed and went off to the side to look at some poems that had been written about Loki.

Sarah was taking in the other artwork, when she suddenly felt a strong presence behind her and tingles shot down her spine.

‘Did you do that one?’ Came Loki’s voice right in hear ear, making her gasp a little as she turned to find him right behind her, looking at her artwork.

‘Ye… Yeah, I did.’

‘It’s wonderful. Thank you.’ Loki smiled widely and looked directly at her. She found his eye contact quite intense, so was unable to maintain it.

‘So uhm… What exactly is the mission you mentioned? And are you a cosplayer of Loki, or what?’ She asked.

Loki chuckled and leaned in a little closer to her. ‘I am the Loki, God of Mischief. Everything will be explained later, as I said… What’s your name?’

‘Sarah…’

‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Sarah.’ He said as he took her hand and brought it up to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles, turning her knees to jelly.

‘And welcome to my cult.’ He grinned at her with a wink.

#loki #Loki x ofc #tom hiddleston #necessary evil #Loki fic

[thehotelpod]

It's October and that's all the reason I need to celebrate Izzy lets go!!!

I could talk for an hour about how Izzy's art and playlists spoke to me and why I just HAD to have him do our art, but that's another post for another day. For now lets talk about a few of the early pieces.

THE MALL

his first official piece for us. The bonus episodes and the corresponding postcards was a it of an experiment (it's experiments all the way down) and we were all so impressed with this that we just had to figure out a way to hire him. I was on the phone with Pacific when he saw it and I could practically feel the shock when the colors hit him.

More under the cut, don't forget to follow @filthyguts!

4.10 Audrey Burns

(I AM WORKING ON THE LETTERING) the fisrt normal episode piece. I had no idea what was coming my way, Izzy's style is strong at its core, but the fringes and fiddly bits have such nuance and flavor. Popping colors, photobashing, giant expressions and poses, and a rare smile from our boy. He's dressed in the Hilton uniform because that's what this Hotel was based on. This one has a real Stinky Cheese Man vibe.

4.11 The Owner - V

a rare sequel episode that ties in directly with S1. Izzy really got to play with the composition, breaking it apart with the characters themselves (notice the V shape!) and infusing it with the chaos of the episode, but unified by color scheme. More photobashing (is that what its called?) and a rare view of his Hotel herself design. I love the his Owner so much. Them little grabbers!

4.12 X - X

Originally titled "? - ?" but changed because that's unpronounceable, this one is very popular on our store. Lobby Boy clutching the title and the Owner made of Hotel photos (ELEVATOR BUTTON ARM!) reinforcing the helpless power the characters have over their environment. That smiling crazed face is exactly what I pictured in season 1, and something about the colors and texture reads as fish scales to me it's like the Manager is here too (fish!Manager enjoyers unite)

4.12 Judy Blashy

One of my very very very favorites. The whole cast together, and though they all wear masks of fear you can still get their character dynamic in an instant (i like how the LB is in front of the Manager--Izzy has always understood that he is not fragile fine china that could shatter at any moment, but a mongoose under the house who doesn't like loud noises). Madam Hotel's mad, gap toothed grin, her room number earrings, her NECK LOOK AT HER NECK!!! and of course a great big splash of blood where the Owner smooshed her (mirroring the Managers head getting bonked in S3, and don't get me started on people losing eyes) I love that when we added the Goosebumps frame he drew some more blood flying out over it, always reinforcing that breaking of what seems like real boundaries effortlessly.

That's it for now, go follow Izzy anywhere you can, he posts art all the time and it's always incredible (I don't even know who Kira is but I sure like the way Izzy draws him)

Thank you Izzy, you are a rock star and I cannot and will not imagine what the Hotel looks like without you!

#The Hotel podcast #filthyguts #he also has great taste in movies #fashion icon #animator #a professional and delightful guy

[cowboyfromh3ll]

God, I LOVE your writing! And I was afraid of sending a request but here I am. 😊 I was thinking a lot about John x Reader, but the reader being a bounty hunter who could have been in love with him (he's in love too) for some time and makes excuses to "go after his bounty" very often.

Nobody

(John Marston x Fem!Reader Fluff)

Hi guys I finally uploaded again teehee

Warnings: none

There was a loneliness so great within you that you could see it within the slow movements of the sun traveling across the sky, in the way the shadows warped and curved in following the sun's path, in the way a clock's hands ticked. An estranged family and being forced to live on your own led you to a new season of loneliness that you could not move on from. You waited patiently for someone or something to take your hand, and lead you into the next phase. But maturing came with the realization that no one would come to save you, so you'd have to fend for yourself.

In many ways, bounty hunting fulfilled you. Financially speaking, it provided you with just enough to get by, but not enough where you could settle down and live comfortably without a care in the world. Bounty hunting also allowed you interesting interactions. You'd occasionally have one on one conversations with the people you were turning in, able to see glimpses into the type of people they were and what type of lives they led besides what was foretold on the bounty posters. It also made you feel less lonely; the intimate nature of some of these conversations made you feel as though you were talking to an old friend you ran into in the middle of the market and wanted to catch up. But as soon as the town approaches on the horizon, your bubble was burst; a reminder that you were in fact turning in a dangerous criminal, and not your old pal who you got into bad sorts with.

You supposed going after John so often was worth it for the thrill alone. He was a conniving little weasel who always found himself getting out of arrest or being turned in. When you saw the $400 bounty on his head, you knew this was someone to go after, though you never did expect to have so much fun.

For one, he put up a fight. They all usually did, but he was so crass and petulant: there was something slightly amusing about the way he squirmed and cried out whenever you lassoed him, the way he grunted and tried to fight back whenever you hog tied him and tightened the rope just enough to keep him teetering on the edge of discomfort. You got a sadistic pleasure out of subduing the man, and you could never consider yourself too disappointed whenever he managed to escape; it always meant you could try and capture him again another time.

It got to the point where you made things too easy for him. You wouldn't run as fast or spur your horse on. You fumbled with knots and didn't draw them nearly tight enough. You indulged in idle chit chat that had nothing to do with your objective to turn him in, which he would use against you to distract you and get away. Surprisingly enough, he actually entertained your meaningless chatter. And you learned quite a deal about him through it.

Outlaw on the run. Rides with a gang. Lives life by no rules. Could he be any more enticing? The fact he had a son with another woman didn't scare you off either. As far as you knew they ended on amicable terms so you supposed you weren't crossing any lines. It's not like you were actively pursuing him anyway.

Well, in a way you were. One could consider seeking him out repeatedly with no real intentions of turning him in to be active pursuit.

On one particular instance of your pursuit, he had finally inquired on your persistence for capturing him.

"Christ woman, I don't know why you keep coming after me. You clearly don't get anything out of it." He continued to thrash and fight back like some deer that'd been caught and was trying to fight off its attackers. His bouts of aggression came in intervals, convulsing like a fish out of water until you finally straddled his back.

"There's a thrill in the chase. Especially when it's such a big fish." You continued to fiddle with ropes, pretending as if you had never tied a knot in your life. "It's also kinda hilarious how I keep catching you."

"Yeah well, you never can quite turn me in at the end of the day." He sneered, smirking to himself in self satisfaction. You scoffed and tied his wrists, pulling on the ropes a painful amount and tying the knot fully.

"Have you ever considered I let you go?" You rebuked.

"Have you ever considered I let you catch me?"

John reveled in your disbelief, taking your silent scoff as a sign that he had won this battle. Suddenly he was turned over by you; you straddling his hips while he lay on the dirt road beneath you. If anyone rode by he couldn't begin to imagine what they would think was going on. Especially in public.

"You keep up that smart mouth and I might actually turn you in this time." You threatened. But it was empty, it held no weight, and you both knew it.

"So you admit you only come after me to see me and not actually turn me in?" He teased.

"I never said that."

"Well, I'm sure there's a ton of other bounties you could spend your time going after instead of wasting your time coming after me for no reason. You must either be really bored, or desperate to see me."

John's comment made you want to pistol whip him, but it also made you want to kiss him. To drop to your knees next to him and bow your head and profess just how much you really liked him. Part of you hoped he also enjoyed your little adventures just as much as you did. That he also looked forward to seeing you every few days and counted down the hours until he felt the snagging texture of your lasso against his skin that was still recovering from the rope burn be gained only days ago.

"You're right, I could. But none of em are quite as entertaining as you are." You stood up from John, towering over him and blocking out the sun from his view. He was afforded a better view of your face, and his sarcastic demeanor melted into one of endearment.

"There's other ways to reach me, woman. But hey, I don't mind playing rough." You rolled your eyes at him, gently kicking his ribs as a warning.

"You're a bold man, John Marston." You chided, squatting down to begin to try and carry him. John was used to the sequence of events, so he stiffened his body to try and help you during the awkward phase of attempting to lug him over your shoulder. Once you did, he put on the same act as damsel in distress.

"You gonna actually turn me in this time?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'll see how I feel on the way there."

You were so good at being alone, dealing with the loneliness, until you came after John again, and you were aching all over again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Nobody - Mitski

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 x reader #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #john marston #John marston fluff #John Marston x reader #john marston x reader fluff

[swallowerofdharma]

Saezuru fandom - and not the occasional yaoi reader, but fans of Saezuru specifically or fans of Banana Fish who haven’t already: please consider watching a movie called My own private Idaho by Gus Van Sant.

I am not a collector, I have moved too many times to buy things orderly or consistently or just not lose them. But I tend to buy books when I can and this is the first ever DVD I bought, part of my collection of… ten to fifteen DVDs total. You know it’s special already. As soon as I got it home I erased the stupid Italian title because it didn’t have anything to do with the original one, but that was how it worked back then. I had rented this film on VHS years before this existed, but the DVD gave me the thrill of hearing River Phoenix’s actual voice for the first time.

My Own Private Idaho premiered at the 48th Venice International Film Festival in 1991, and River Phoenix received the Coppa Volpi for Best Actor, so the movie and Phoenix were largely considered and talked about, very positively, in the Italian press - luckily for me because when I first saw the film, I really needed some help to understand it and a dutiful librarian helped me uncover several of those articles. For the first time I saw a movie that made me think: there is more to this and I want to know everything. I was a little bit too young in 1992, when it was released in the theaters, so I watched it a few years later. River Phoenix had died in 1993 and the press coverage of his senseless death reached far beyond the streets of Los Angeles and I remember cutting out an article with his picture from a magazine to keep. It was an interview where he had mostly talked about animals rights and this had endeared him to me immensely. Around 1995 I discovered that a record shop near the bus station, in the town where I went to school, had also started renting VHS and if you brought them back the next day it was very very cheap. Since I passed by daily, I thought it would be a good idea to have a look and I ventured into it. Slowly but surely I made my way through most of River Phoenix’s filmography. My Own Private Idaho was aged restricted, you needed to be over 15 to watch it, which I was, but barely. I loved it. The main draw for me was undoubtedly Mike and his narcolepsy which rendered him completely vulnerable and adrift in a world of streets in the middle of nowhere or in the middle of different cities yet still a world very recognizable to him, even if he had been moved around while being asleep. The rules of the street, the hitchhiking, the hustling, the company of other drifters and homeless people were the same everywhere for Mike, in Portland or in Rome. I don’t want to talk lot about me here but I was used to recognize streets and highways too, since a very very young age. I recognized and related to parts of Mike’s experience yet I couldn’t put my finger on what could possibly have attracted me so much about this movie. The library was just a few meters down the same street from the record shop, so when I returned the VHS I went there. I had never read serious film criticism before and I was so surprised to see so many specialized magazines.

The impact of this experience on me can’t be understated because one of those articles really changed the way I looked at films and art in general. It was written by Franco La Polla who taught North American and anglophone literature at the University of Bologna and he was undoubtedly one of the reasons why I chose to go there myself. I still have photocopies somewhere. La Polla unveiled the references from several of Shakespeare's historical plays, which I had missed entirely, but he also interpreted the character of Scott (Keanu Reeves) as a Shakespearean character who played an almost separate role in the movie, while Mike (River Phoenix) was rather passing through as if he was instead Alice in Wonderland witnessing Scott’s nonsense for a while. These types of observations added a new layer to the story that ultimately is a failed romance, because I had understood at least that Mike was in love, but Scott couldn’t or wouldn’t reciprocate for he was destined for something else and he too was just passing by in his youthful rebellion, never quite meant to be stuck anywhere near the people like Mike who he had met and impacted in his little play.

I followed sporadically the rest of Gus Van Saint’s career and he was greatly and personally impacted by Phoenix’s death among many others. I bought and read his novel Pink because the dedication on the first page was clear to me when I picked up the book.

This all happened before Planet Manga started publishing Banana Fish in 2002. Akimi Yoshida too was impacted by River Phoenix, and probably in a greater way than me because Banana Fish had started publishing in Japan before he was properly famous and she had to conclude it not a lot of time after learning about his untimely death and I doubt it was an easy thing to do. And now for the people who are likely to read this post, Banana Fish is probably the reason why they know about River Phoenix. But undoubtedly Ash Lynx is a completely different character from Mike Waters. I still love Mike a little bit more.

These are images I had saved from Pinterest and unfortunately I can’t find the sources anymore, but for the last one at least you can see more here.

How can this possibly connect with Saezuru, you might want to know? Well other than my very brain’s signature of lateral thinking, I have been pondering around the idea of a meta about bisexuality and biphobia, and Scott came to mind immediately because, let’s be honest, one can be bisexual and an asshole too. There is a lot I want to talk about this topic. But for the moment I really thought it was time I paid homage to Idaho and to River and to dare to recommend watching it if you are really interested in queer stories. River Phoenix in this film is completely believable, and above all those cute actors who portray gay characters but clearly don’t really know what they’re doing or there is something they aren’t willing to let go of. And Phoenix is completely believable in his other roles where he is in love with girls too. The bond he was able to create with Keanu Reeves, sometimes giving up all control to the other actor over his body and in the economy of their shared scenes, was remarkable in itself. Every moment he is in this film he is Mike so completely. I have yet to see a male actor doing what he had achieved here. So very special.

#another film really worth watching is stand by me #my own private idaho #gus van sant #river phoenix #keanu reeves #the end credits for this film play over a song from the pogues #akimi yoshida #lgbtq films

[sroloc--elbisivni]

bunnyguard reflection

in the spirit of 'fuckit it's my own blog i can be sappy if i want to' as well as 'this took a year and 78k and i get to keep talking about it for at least one more day' now and here is the time and place for personal yap that did not go in the last author's note.

preliminarily speaking, i had this concept in mind before I'd finished either the usagi yojimbo comics OR watching Rise. i spent so much of both of those series fishing out little moments and choices by leo and usagi that made me go 'oh my god i NEED these guys to meet, i need to watch them bounce off each other.' I kept collecting snips of ideas, and dialogue, and encounters that never quite all panned out or fit together because this was just so much fun for me to play in. I had a lot of wanting to turn this into a real story but no concrete frame to build it on, and then in january i saw the year of the otp prompts go by. and went 'oh haha that looks fun.' it was even the year of the rabbit. and then i went 'oh!! what if i did VIGNETTES for these!!' and then less than three days later the Battle Nexus as political element of the Hidden City, complete with connections to the very different other iteration of it that we'd seen, fell into place and suddenly this silly little whim was an actual big project staring me down with an ambitious goal in mind, and I had no idea if I could pull it off.

structuring it as a month by month thing was something i'd never done before. it forced me to wait to find out what would happen, to keep building to something that didn't exist yet, to lay down the track while I was driving the train. and at the same time, it gave me space to grow, to practice putting together a beginning, middle, and end every month. and it gave me something to look forward to, and the excitement of dropping in threads that wouldn't pay off for months, and watching as it went to see what the audience reaction would be. were people getting out of it the things i wanted to give them? was i hitting the notes i wanted? i had the sketch of the year, but i was still learning what was going to happen until the moment the last word hit the page. plot and character choices, but also big thematic stuff! i described November's fic as 'the ten of swords' to Space and then went 'wait a fucking second' and realized that I could draw a connection, in order, between each fic and a numerical card of tarot's suit of swords. (mostly one-to-one --october straddles 9-10, and December loops us back around to the Ace of swords, for new beginnings.) i couldn't have done that on purpose. if i'd had that thought in january i would have gone 'no that's too pretentious and too hard' and avoided it.

also!! this has been a year of my life!! over the course of this series, i've had four different living situations (that lasted longer than a week), two different jobs, and gone back to school. i had to change meds, which was an anxious ordeal in 'am i even going to be able to focus on anything now?' the cat that was purring on my lap while i worked on the first few months has now passed away. this fic kept me company on the flight for my move to a different continent. it kept me sane in the middle of a very stressful summer. it's helped me meet and get closer to some really cool people. i can FEEL how it's made me a stronger writer.

and on top of all that: i am deeply, genuinely, truly proud of this series. i'm glad i wrote it. i'm amazed at how it's turned out. i can see things i would change if i did it over, but i'm glad i won't be. i'm glad this is the way it exists. and i am utterly blown away that there are people who told me they were looking forward to it every month, that they've been following it since the beginning, that they like what i've done with this place. this is the longest-term project i've ever done. it's the most words i've ever put into a single narrative. i can't believe it's never going on my wip rotation again. whadda hell.

i have no idea if i'll ever do anything like this again. i hope it won't be anytime soon--there are other things i want to do in the meantime. but god, am i glad i did it.

#sroloc babbles #fic talk #bunnyguard

[scaredy-draws]

In relation to this shuffle au I made

@lumeer Hehe I'm glad they caught your attention

First off! Here's the concept art to kinda give a vibe. Under the cut is trivia and a TLDR for the story

Lullaby Stars - Space Sekai Group order: Ena // An // Tsukasa // Kanade Style: Emo-ish Jpop/Idol group

Being childhood friends with Airi, Ena had always been close to the idol/celebrity aspect of life. She was interested, and so learned a lot from Airi. She practiced singing in her free time and when she was drawing, but never tried to take it seriously, because she thought that once she did, it would make her start hating it the same way she hated drawing. This leads her into working less and less on her art as well, hoping a break will get her motivation back.

Tsukasa, similar to Ena, had a close friend in the idol bussiness (Shizuku), and thus was always closely acquainted with it, even more so than Ena because of his lifelong dream of becoming a performer. Unlike Ena's more laid back attitude, Tsukasa would work himself to the bone, similar to Shizuku in that way. The two would practice together for both of their sakes. Shizuku found it easier to practice when she felt her efforts were being appreciated, as she was also teaching Tsukasa during their practices, and Tsukasa simply enjoyed her company besides the fact that she was his only teacher.

An, a little different from Tsukasa and Ena, had never thought of being an idol before. Sure, she'd spent a lot of her childhood listening to similar music, but from a young age she'd felt pressured to do as she'd promised herself as a kid. Although she realised along the way that the dream was sort of childish and not metrically measurable, she still wanted to accomplish something. This line of thought, that she should be able to physichally see how far she'd gotten, lead her to thinking a branch more like that of a celebrities was more suited, as everyone had a follower count that you could simply grasp, instead of the emotions of a crowd cheering. With that, she made a hasty decision to try her hand at being an idol. While she was very in-the-know in the street music scene, An was a fish out of water once she actually stepped foot in this new style. While she'd first decided to just ask around about it, after asking a few random girls who just gave her weird looks, she decided to just ask Mizuki about it, since she knows Mizuki enjoys that type of stuff, and she sort of wanted an excuse to talk to Mizuki anyways.

With Mizuki's immediate reccomendation of meeting their friend, Ena, An decides she's good to go, and gets Ena's phone number so they can talk about it

Around this time is when Shizuku decides to fully let go of her previous idol face (more elaborated on in her own story), leaving Tsukasa with a set of dancing skills that he actually doesn't know what to do with anymore. He kinda spaces out in this whole oh god what is life what am I doing if she quit she probably has seen it all maybe this isnt right what the fuck little crisis, but keeps praciticing for a short while.

Word gets out at their that An has been spotted hanging out with Ena and Airi, and jokes about An's sudden aesthetic change get around, not entirely malicious but still teasing. Hearing about this, Tsukasa aproaches them about it, mostly looking for a new space to employ his passion. Ena is reluctant, mostly because he's a guy, but An thinks he'll be a great fit to join them, so she reluctantly agrees to practice together to see what he's got.

Practice goes pretty well, besides Ena's self esteem plummetting from seeing how well An and Tsukasa can dance. This is where they realise none of them can write songs!

Enter Kanade, an artist known online by the name of K, sharing her music as if it's the only thing she lives for. As the trio are about to realise, that is true! Kanade's life goal hasn't changed, she's looking to save people with her music. An is the one who reaches ou to Kanade once she hears her music.

Past this is a little fuzzy but Kanade produces music for the group for 3 years before she ever reveals her real name and face, and another few months before she starts performing live with them as a quadro.

TLDR: Ena wants to be an idol but she kinda sucks at it. Tsukasa wants to be an idol and is great at it. An wants to be an idol on a split second decision. Kanade is kidnapped by three people yelling all the time into making music for them.

Trivia!! Space Sekai and the vocaloids in it barely ever contribute to this group, though they all discover it individually and don't tell each other for a long time. Tsukasa actually sees Kanade in Space Sekai once when she's working on another song, but Kanade panics and doesn't want to have shown her face yet, so she leaves immediately. This group is the only one who's members never got switched at all. They were like this as soon as I decided to make this au.

#misekai au #missekai au #project sekai au #prsk au #prsk #project sekai #an shiraishi #ena shinonome #tsukasa tenma #kanade yoisaki #Lullaby Stars

[essayofthoughts]

If Percy spent one year on a fishing boat, what do you think he did for the other four prior to being sprung from jail? How long do you think he spent in certain areas for odd jobs; how long do you think it took him to construct the pepperbox? How long do you think it took him to track down Ripley?

I also forgot to add to the previous ask that I am trying to work out a timeline in my head, as the art book states that almost nothing is known to the public about those five years of Percy’s life.

I already semi-answered this in the first Arc of Ghost Cass, for which I cross-referenced as many canon sources as I could. There's a lot of snippets given throughout the Campaign - hells, we get some specifics in Percy's recounting of events to VM at the start of the Briarwood Arc, and from Taliesin in the Campaign Wrap-Up Talks Machina, and even in a few Q&A's! I know not everyone is as insane as I am about hunting down canon details and cross referencing it all but...

You can do your own research Nonny. Just because "the art book states that almost nothing is known to the public" doesn't mean there's nothing to go on - it means that in the world of Exandria people have little to go on. We have quite a bit!

General thoughts on timeline below the cut.

The Briarwoods attacked five years before the Briarwood Arc. Roughly one year before that, Vox Machina formed, and at some point within the first few months after forming, they found and rescued Percy from a cell. So we have four years to work with, roughly.

From Percy recounting his story to VM in the Briarwood Arc it seems he spent the first two years in a dissociated state because, y'know trauma and grief and shock, and didn't emerge from it until he had the dream of Orthax, at which point he was inspired to make the Pepperbox. It is recounted... somewhere on tumblr, I do not have the link handy right now - that Percy spent some time, as well as on a fishing boat, working as a saddler, which makes sense given he made a leather plague doctor mask, which would require leatherworking skill.

So that fills two years of time, plus however long it took him to accumulate the funds for and properly make the Pepperbox. We know how easy it is for Percy's inventions to go awry and the kind of tinkering checks Matt has Taliesin make, so it may well have taken him six months to a year to draw up plans, get the materials to make it, get the enchantments on the metal, rent time at a forge, make it correctly without fucking up any part of the mechanism, and obtain or make the black powder required, and make the shot himself. He apparently worked on it in kind of a fugue state, so lets go with about three years in before he gets all that done.

I personally think he stalled a bit there, given if I recall correctly, he was hoping to find people associated with the Briarwoods but, notably, was too afraid to go back to Whitestone himself. I imagine him running across Ripley as he did was pure chance. Consequently, I imagine that while he searched and kept an eye and ear out for information, he spent most of a year keeping himself occupied - he needs to pay for food and board after all - until he encountered Ripley again, at which point he went after her.

He tried to attack her, had no luck, didn't even see her face, and was hauled off to Jorenn jail where he was left to rot and die. Given the response of Vex specifically to seeing the prisoner on the pirate boat on the way to Vesrah, comparing him to how they found Percy this causes me to utterly dismiss the comics' version of events here - Vex was there for finding Percy, and Percy was in an extremely bad state by the time they found him. Taliesin himself has said that Percy was near death and thought Vox Machina was a near-death induced fever dream. Given that, he may well have been starving for some time and on minimal water rations.

These are the few anchor points we have. You can work around this to plot events as plausibly as you see fit. Because of the vagueness there's a lot of space to fudge specific dates and that is great for fic - see also me writing Ghost Cass of which a good chunk of the first Arc is all about Percy's time on his own!

#percy de rolo #vox machina #ask #anonymous

[happilychaengs]

Nayeon - Okay [repost]

somewhat old drabble

And here I was again on my... 8th date this month? I looked out the window admiring the city and the people walking in the street. Who could handle walking around in the sweltering sun all day? I know I couldn't. I looked down again at my phone waiting for a... Ms. Hirai Momo who just so happens to be 30 minutes late.

It's fine.

Maybe she realized this was a mistake.

Maybe she realized I was the mistake.

Maybe you did too.

But she came. I really was surprised when she sat down in front of me apologizing profusely for being so late. She thought I would leave before she got here but I was fine. I was used to it. Because of you.

I'd call her a chatterbox but it was a nice change of pace for me. She was different from everyone else I've had a "date" with. It's almost confusing that I use that word with so much uncertainty because the only true dates I've had were with you.

The exact same café and the exact same table. The exact same seat I'm sitting at now but you're not here with me. It was someone else. This Momo girl was amazing in every way but I just couldn't stop being reminded of you. The way she talked, the hobbies she loved doing, even to the phone case she had. I still see you in everyone I meet. It's embarrassing to say but I even had to excuse myself to the bathroom for a moment to compose and remind myself.

She wasn't you.

That's the effect you still have on me. The tight hold you still have on me after all these months.

Have you moved on?

I've wondered that all the time. Are you hung over me like I am to you? Do you still look over our old messages? Do you still have that promise ring I gave to you on our first anniversary? The day we promised forever?

Because I do. I still hold on to that promise with all of my heart. It hurts but I have hope.

But that hopes fades more and more when I'm face to face with someone new. I know the girl I'm talking to deserves my time and attention but I can't seem to give it. You've taken it all away the moment you walked out the door.

Momo later tells me all about her dream of becoming an idol someday. I gave her a soft smile but I think she could tell there was so much hurt behind it. You wanted that too. So much so that you couldn't even spare the light of day for us. I mean, what "us" was.

Someday I should move on. I know that. I know that and yet I don't know if I can. You've affected me so much now that even others can see it.

Momo reaches over the table and grabs my hand. She asks me if I'm okay. Of course I'm not but she doesn't need to know that. I give her a simple response. She simply nods but I know by now she realizes I'm not.

She finally decides to ask about me. What do I like to do? I'm not sure. I loved being with you. I loved just sitting around doing nothing if it was with you but again, she doesn't need to know. I was now a person who loved to draw.

Another question flies out of her mouth. Do I have any exes? I simply say no but in the back of my mind you still linger. What was I to you? An old friend? An ex-lover? Who was I in your eyes?

When I looked out the window again, the hustle and bustle of the city had turned quiet. The sun was setting behind the buildings and the moon was shining above. Turning back to Momo, I'm surprised to see a smile growing on her face. She asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime. This was a first for me.

I can tell she's worried as I notice her biting her bottom lip in anticipation. I don't know what came over me but I agreed. Her smile grew even more, it almost lit up the whole building.

In response, for the first time in months, I smiled. A real genuine smile.

As she thanked me for today and left the café, I fished out my phone from my pocket. I hovered my finger over your contact number for a few seconds, debating. I decided to quickly click on it and send you a message, shutting my phone off right after.

"I think I'll be okay now bunny." seen

#twice imagines #twice reactions #twice scenarios #twice #imagine #girl group scenarios #im nayeon #twice nayeon #nayeon x reader #im nayeon x reader #late night thoughts #twice angst #angst

[electrasev5nwrites]

ITA/SAKU ministory: Partners in Crime prompt for ItaSaku week

"Try to be less flashy," Danzo ordered. The old hawk sneered as he looked over Itachi. "You must be as unremarkable as possible. Try not to leave a trail of heartbroken acquaintances." His lips thinned to nearly nothing. "It's memorable."

"My apologies," Itachi said. He had no idea what Danzo wanted him to do differently. He certainly wasn't flirting with people while undercover. All of his mental capacity went into subverting the governance of their neighboring country. He worked against the peace every day to ensure that in comparison their country was unified and strong. "Do you have any suggestions?"

The old man eyed him. His face turned sour. "...it would help if you were seen to be unavailable," he said finally. "Find a partner or wife. It would also provide an excuse to leave various situations- you can cite pre existing plans." He seemed to warm to the idea as he spoke. Danzo hummed to himself. He narrowed his eyes. "I will send Sai with you," he decided. "He could be your wife."

Itachi suddenly discovered that he did in fact have an opinion.

"There is no need," Itachi said a little too quickly. He ducked his head. "Thank you for your guidance."

"The fate of our nation depends on you," Danzo said, because he had no consideration for other people's ability to sleep at night.

Itachi bowed again.

As he left headquarters, he ran through a mental list of people he knew in an appropriate age category who possessed some subtlety and might also be desperate enough to do it. They also could have no commitments of real importance such as a child or meaningful work. 

Who did he know who was emotionally vulnerable and led a life of little meaning?

Itachi knew about 8 people who were not related to him, so there really was only one acquaintance who might be desperate enough to marry him on short notice. 

"Haruno," he said. Sasuke's boyfriend's childhood friend startled and dropped her to go coffee. He had caught her on the way home from her shift work at a bleak medical teaching facility. He swooped forward to catch it for her before it could drop on the sidewalk. The other pedestrians moved around them like an uncaring school of fish. "Do you have a moment to talk?" He extended his hand to offer her drink back. The scent of black coffee wafted back to him. 

A flush appeared on her cheeks. Her hands were artificially warm from her coffee when she touched his hands. "Ah- yes," she blushed. Haruno blinked rapidly. "Here?"

"It's fine," Itachi said. No one was paying attention. "Do you know anything about my work?"

She didn't, of course.

"Uh…" she bit her lip. "International business?" she ventured. "Sales, right?"

"I suppose that you could say marketing," Itachi said, thinking of his most recent posting. He had convinced a government employee to pass information through him. "I have a posting overseas scheduled soon." 

Haruno looked extremely interested.

'No, Sakura,' he decided internally. 'If I'm going to ask her a favor I should be on first name terms with her.'

"Where are you going?" Sakura asked politely. He could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was more than casually interested. That made sense with what he'd noticed of her. She was a talented girl with no social advantages who had done her level best to marry up. She had failed in that, and settled for an average career because she could not finance the education for a better one. She had probably never left the country.

"I can't tell you," Itachi said. Her face fell. "Unless you agree to come with me. I must disclose that there is risk involved."

She perked up and her lips dropped open. 

…Was that a draw?

"I am going into a sensitive situation," Itachi prevaricated delicately. He was going to pretend to be a wealthy local's errant son and infiltrate a gentleman's club that a politician was in. So that he could blackmail the man. "It is a rather conservative environment."

"Okay," Sakura said, clearly not understanding where he was going.

"I need someone to be my spouse for the duration of the trip," he said bluntly.

She jumped. 

He waited.

Sakura simply looked at him. "... And why did you think to come to me?" Her hair blew around her face, unrestrained despite the wind.

"You are hungry for external validation," Itachi said. Sakura looked offended by this analysis. "If you marry me, you'll enjoy elevated social status."

"It's not real," Sakura flatly rejected. She crossed her arms. He tried not to notice the way her biceps flexed, displayed in her yellow sundress. "Being your cover wouldn't do anything for me."

Itachi hesitated only a moment before offering, "I will make it real." He felt an odd swooping sensation in his stomach. He set it aside. It wasn't such a sacrifice. Most people did get married eventually. It would make him less remarkable. Perhaps it would comfort his mother as well. 

She was glaring at him. Why?

He blinked at her. 

"What's the joke?" 

It was impressive, he thought, that such a small woman's voice could drop into a growl. 

"It would be very plausible," Itachi said. "I would have had many chances to meet and interact with you in the period of your one-sided attraction to my brother. Therefore, no one would know that the relationship was falsified."

Sakura eyed him as he spoke. Gradually, her hostility began to taper off. He had worried that she might be offended by the mention of her unsuccessful seduction, but she was encouragingly resilient. That was good. It would definitely come up as a topic when his parents learned about their relationship.

Yes, Itachi thought. He could make this work. 

"You're desperate," she said. Itachi suddenly discovered that he did not enjoy that word being applied to himself. Sakura snickered. "You'll fund my career," she said, a challenge.

He blinked. "I wasn't aware that you had one," he told her. The muscles around her eye twitched. "Aren't you a care assistant of some sort? No," he corrected himself. "You do makeup. I recall you discussing it with Uzumaki."

The look she gave him was incredibly judgmental. "You don't need to understand in order to sign checks."

That was true, so he inclined his head.

"Great!" Sakura flashed him a bright smile. She latched onto his arm as if they were old friends. Bemused, he let her. "I need a house," she informed him. She began walking and Itachi moved with her. He didn't know where they were going, but she was compelling.

"What?"

"My own funeral home," she clarified. He might have faltered if she wasn't dragging him along. "I don't want to get a loan."

Hmm. That was a lie. "You can't get a loan," Itachi said slowly. 

Context clues began to fall into place. She was… a mortician?

His fiancee gave him a dirty look. Then she rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She tossed her hair. "So, you're in the mafia or something?" Her grip on his arm tightened. "There's no way you're not involved in crime and need a fake wife at short notice."

"I am not," Itachi denied, peeved. What he did was not legal, but it was government work. Yes, he'd possibly be interrogated and executed if he was caught, but did that make him a criminal per se? He had a pension. He was not a criminal.

The girl shrugged. "I'm not judging," she said airily. "I'd work with worse for my funding."

That was for the best. Danzo was probably worse than most of the mafia.

He hesitated. "....While we are overseas, you will play the role of a housewife," he said cautiously. "It would be extremely memorable if I had an undertaker for a spouse." 

"Sounds like someone is offering to buy me coffins when we get back," she said gleefully. 

Disconcerting.

Itachi reminded himself that he would be in much more danger of being discovered and arrested if he was memorable. He would simply have to ask her to speak a lot less.

#itasakuweek2022 #itachi #sakura haruno

[sanctified-silence]

Statement of Grian... no last name, huh. Statement of Grian, regarding luring fishing experience. Original statement was given 12 of February, 2024. Audio recorded by [static] the head archivist of [static]. Statement begins.

I've never been quite into fishing before. Not much of surprise, I probably don't look the type, I know. And I don't think I am "into" fishing now, to be crystal clear. Actually, I think that I won't be able to even think of fishing after all this is done. I will just try my best to forget this ever happen and come back to the architecture.

It was meant to be a break, okay? I was in quite the burn out recently. Work, work, work and more work just piled up my back, not giving me any room for breathing. More projects, more calculations, more designs, more thrown out expensive paper. More awful people I have to deal with to explain why their idea of the architecture and exterior design not only majorly impractical, but also dangerous. And I was having none of it.

Of course, when I saw that damn advert, I didn't hesitate to throw it all far away for some needed pause. Here, I wrote down exactly what it was saying.

[There's an attachment to the file of a small paper, on which was written down the words "Stillwaters Paradise - the best place to relax and take it slow, while the time swirls around you". There's also some artistic rendition of what the advert looked like in a rather sketchy drawing of lake and forest]

The next thing I know I was at that park, paying for my stay. I remember the woman that met me at the counter. Something about her gave me the willies, maybe it was her almost white grey eyes, that seemed a bit big for her face, that stared at me with distant expression. Her hair were sticking to her face and neck in way they would if they were wet. She reminded me of a dead fish, holding her lips slightly open.

She asked me if I'd like the fishing equipment go into my check. At first I tried to refuse, but her eyes made me feel dizzy as she was talking about how great this park is for all fishermen, so I reluctantly agreed.

At first I was just taking a nice stroll around the park, taking in the nature, since it was beautiful, haven't visited that many natural resources in the UK, or anywhere, for that matter, but the place was gorgeous, full of different trees and flowers. What I did notice however was that it was quiet. Uncanny quiet, I mean. No birds, no flies, no mosquitos, no anything. Just the sound of leaves moving on the wind.

It weirded me out a lot, but I wrote it off as me being stressed and overworked or something. Coming to a lake, I noticed multiple sets of fishing equipment in the shack nearby, I remembered that I actually payed for it, so might as well make my money worth, I figured and took one. I know, it sounds kinda stupid in hindsight, but I didn't know at the time that it's not a common practice. As I said, never was a fishing guy.

There were a couple of people who were fishing there already. None of them greeted me or even glanced at me, when I came down to a shore. Weird, but I just thought it's because they were really concentrated on what they were doing. They still creeped me out so I took a place as far of them as I could. I tried to make sense of the fishing equipment stuff I got, it seemed pretty straight forward from sidelines. And soon the float was in the water, innocently bobbing around.

At first it was somewhat normal I caught a couple of small fish, no clue what they are, but they gave enough of rush of emotion to continue on fishing.

I was staring at the float, there it was making a small circles on the water surface, I felt my eyelids get heavier and it took me a lot of strength to keep the open. My stomach started making that weird feeling of my very insides rotating, like unsettled bad lunch. There was this float. Bobbing. With time the circles of waves it was making started slowly spiraling inwards. No, the whole water surface around it started bending in those shapes without a proper form, shifting, breathing. Same is for my fishing rod.

Well, the rod in my hands stood unchanged, maybe a bit sharper and pointy than it's supposed to, but it was still normal. It's the fishing line, it's spun on itself and then in the next moment there was two. Three, four, six, ten, all different, with the same float, but they bounced on those weird waves that made no sense in their own manner. A few of them were pulled down as if the were getting the fish.

I tried to pull, but to no avail, the fish, or whatever was biting the bait was far stronger than me, but I could pull the other ones with no problem. It is then I looked into the sky, I don't remember why, maybe because I needed to stop my eyes from hurting, or maybe it was my growing headache, but there was no relief for either of them up there. Because all of the sky was in those fractal impossible shapes. Even the sun, it looked cartoon almost, bright, but not blinding. Headache inducing.

I got up from my fishing spot and immediately regretted it, the wildest vertigo I ever felt made me dizzy, I closed my eyes, trying to find a balance, but when I opened them again, I felt even more sick. I was standing in the sky, fishing. One of the rods caught on the sky's fractal and I tugged. I wish I didn't.

When I pulled, the whole damn sky was swept away under my feet and swirled, becoming this mess of blue, orange, yellow, green and white, trying to mix with water and surroundings of the park. The colours were bright, the edges of this swirl were sharp and it cut me and my clothes in multiple places, I think it even broke one of my nails. But it called me. It hurt to look, to touch, to even hear, because the noise was nothing I ever thought was possible, but I stepped into it. And another step, going further and further.

Just like that it was over.

Another visitor of the park was shaking me violentely, as we stood in the lake, knee deep. There was no rod in my hands. Actually there was nothing on my hands or arms or anywhere on me for that matters those deep painful cuts that I thought was there a moment ago. I looked back at where my fishing spot was, where also supposed to be the fish I caught. There was no fish there.

After that with half wet pants I drove off, back home. Far from this weird place. I remember the look of something I can only interpret as hungry disappointment in the face of the woman at the front desk.

I had a several nightmares after that, all far too bright and confusing. I remember standing in the fishing store, looking at equipment, but I have no recollection of going in. I found a rod by my door in one of the mornings. Sold it immediately. I found myself even driving the road to this park at multiple times, but turned around as soon as I understood where I was going.

Today was a first day when I took a shower without feeling like the drain collected a swirling light with the water.

#grian #writing

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty nice day off. A true day to myself, I was on no schedule, I got a lot done. I felt good.

Some of it was sleeping better. My breathing and my nose still continue to struggle. But I woke up at 915 with no alarm and felt pretty good.

I got cleaned up and put on a soft grey jumpsuit. I felt pretty cute in a cozy kind of way.

I overwhelmed myself at first though. So many directions I could take the day. There was a dishwasher to unload. And I wanted to clean the apartment. And deal with some snails. And and and. I kept picking things up to start something but then seeing something else and I was a little frustrated with myself. Finally I just put everything down and went to have an egg salad sandwich and some chips and give myself some direction.

Once I ate I decided I would start with my candle project. I have a lot of half filled or less vanilla candles. And decided to melt them down with new wicks for Christmas gifts. I saw someone put the jars in a low pan of water and heated it over the stove. And this worked really well! It was slow going but it did work and that was pretty great. I had already added the wicks but I would need sticks to hot them straight up and I am pretty proud of how they came out. And they smell good. I put some strawberry in them too so it's a light fruity floral vanilla. Made the whole apartment smells nice.

While the candles were melting I went to deal with the dishwasher but a bunch of stuff was still dirty. So I reloaded it and put it on heavy duty hoping that would work. And it seemed too though everything was still really wet in the end. I think that something is clogged in there. I may have to investigate tomorrow.

In the mean time I worked on a Christmas card and continued to work on some sewing and some knitting.

I also spent a lot of time vacuuming. I cleaned the kitty litter. I sprayed down the bathroom. I delt with some snails. I did finally break my fish tank vacuum and will have to replace that. But that's alright. I needed to go to the pet store for vacation feeders anyway.

The doorbell would ring and it was a package for me for a Christmas gift for James. So after I ran down and grabbed that I started wrapping those as well. We are mostly out of our silk scarf collection we are using to wrap each others gifts. But I figured some old paper from last year is just fine too.

I would do some work on inventorying the gifts we have for other people. James made a list of people and I wrote all the gifts down and now we just have to make sure they all go to the right person. I was able to add my candles to the list which was nice. And they would come out really good! I am going to melt the tops with a hair dryer tomorrow to fix a few little imperfections but I'm really really pleased with how they came out.

I would spend a lot of this afternoon working on my knitting and drawing on my tablet. Me, James, and Jess are going to get some matching tattoos in January and I wanted to draw up some flash for myself because they are all small the artist was chill with us doing a few. And I have a few on my wishlist that I want to fill in my arm a bit with. My last tattoo was incredibly painful so I'm hoping that she has a lighter hand. Jess just got a chicken tattoo from her yesterday and said she was very fast and very delicate. So fingers crossed.

Callie let me know she would be coming over at 5 so we could talk about schedule stuff and Tipis and all things camp and Christmas and life. And we had gifts for each other. I was very much looking forward to seeing her.

When she got here she was dressed up all cute because she would go to meet her family for dinner after she left us. But in the mean time we talked and went over things in my computer. We exchanged gifts and they were legit perfect. She screamed over the macarons, particularly the box. She tried to get me to split one but I was like nooo they are your gift you enjoy all of them!! And she gave me a knife shaped like a fish and I could not love it more it's perfect. It's everything. I love gifts where you feel very very seen.

James would come home and jump right into their chores. Started the laundry and then ran to the grocery store. They would pick us up frozen pizza. And would be back pretty soon. Me and Callie chilled on the couch talking and having a fun time thinking about the house and the plans for it.

I am trying to be measured still but I am excited and incredibly nervous. I was joking about a TikTok I saw that was basically "everyone loves a maximalist until it's time to move" and man that could not be more on point. Cause like in moments I'm like. Throw it all on a box and get it over there but also. I hate living in half done spaces so you have to time it right. I feel like we will probably start with our storage stuff like my bikes and decorations and camping equipment. Then my studio would logically be next. Then maybe like our extra clothes. My suitcases. The extra towels. I don't think I would want to take down much of my wall stuff until we are closer to living there because it will make me sad having bare walls. I know that's silly but it's how I feel!!

Callie would head out when her family was getting to the restaurant. And I hope she had the best time. Hugs and goodbyes.

Once she was gone I continued working on some knitting. And James came and started wrapping family gifts. And I worked on a small silly gift for Jess that had Callie and James laughing so loudly. It was just a really lovely evening.

I took a late shower and started this post late when I started creating a plaque for my fish knife. That's mostly planned out now but the real work will have to wait for tomorrow.

I am supposed to have the make up private class with Naomi tomorrow. But I want to spend the morning finishing up some projects and starting to pull together everything I'm packing for our Christmas travels. I hope it is a really chill day and we get word about the paperwork for the house. They accepted the offer but we need it in writing before we can do anything!! Ahh!

Sleep well my friends. Take care of eachother. Goodnight!!

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 6: The Reef

Chapter 33

I am so wildly depressed. I don’t need Katniss’s mother to tell me that. But she does, with reassuring words and a kind smile and simple instructions to do something I enjoy even if it’s for ten minutes a day. I ask her if I can have some paper and a pencil. I want to draw.

That night, when I get back to 405 for the scheduled half-hour of down-time before supper, I find a whole empty notebook and three pencils on my bed. Katniss’s mother is the real hero in District Thirteen.

I don’t know how long we’ve been here.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Alvan tells me it has been three weeks since I moved into 405 as we leave the classroom after an hour lecture on nuclear history. I spent it making imaginary doodles, drawing on the desk with my finger. I couldn’t care less about nuclear history even before I lost everything that mattered.

We go down to lunch and sit at our usual spot at the end of the long table. Gloss takes the end, I sit next to him, and Alvan sits across from him. We’ve found it works best to create a buffer between Gloss and everyone else. He’s the least popular person I know of in Thirteen and most people will sit literally anywhere other than next to him.

Today, though, a little boy with that distinct Twelve look sits down next to Alvan across from me. A slightly younger boy sits next to him, and a tiny girl sits next to me. About a minute later, a woman who can only be their mother sits next to the girl, and a young man joins the boys. Him I think I recognize, but in the stupidest possible way.

“You’re Katniss’s cousin. The one they interviewed during her Games.”

He looks confused for half a second, then nods.

“You’re not really her cousin.”

An impressed grin flashes across his face. “I’m not.” Then he leans forward, stretching a hand across the table. “Gale Hawthorne.”

I shake the offered hand. “Annie Cresta.”

“I know,” he says, still friendly. I can tell he doesn’t care about all the stuff that comes with me being Annie Cresta. He just cares that I’m here, and that even crazy Annie could see through the Capitol’s lies about him. Then Gale’s gaze flickers to my side and I glance over to see the little girl staring at me.

“Posy,” the woman says, “We don’t stare.”

Posy ignores her and instead says, with the widest eyes I have ever seen, “Your hair is beautiful.”

I smile. If these little kids aren’t terrified of us, maybe life isn’t so bad. “Thank you.”

One of the boys next to her says, “Is it true you treaded water for eight hours?”

The woman turns to glare at him. “Rory, give the poor girl some peace. The last thing she needs is reminded of that horrible time.”

Rory hangs his head. “I was just wondering. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” I say. I may as well get used to people asking questions like this. At least they’re talking to me. And sitting with us. And at least kids don’t judge. “I did. It made me really glad I was good at swimming.”

“What’s your favorite kind of fish?” the other boy blurts. “We only had one kind we ever ate in Twelve and it wasn’t very good.”

The woman seems to have given up. “Vick…” she sighs.

Down the table, Gale is chuckling. “Sorry about them. When we came in, I told them who you were and now they have a million questions.”

I smile. “That’s fine.” I lean toward Vick. “They’re not technically a fish, but shrimp are my favorite. Spicy shrimp rolls on a rainy winter day… mmmmmm.”

“What do they taste like?” Rory jumps back in.

I frown. What do shrimp taste like? How do I explain them to this poor kid from Twelve? Shrimp taste like whatever you cook them in, which is usually butter and garlic, at least in my house. “Butter and garlic,” I say.

He’s an octopus, he’ll taste like whatever I cook him in. Beck and Mags are laughing at an indignant Finnick. I laugh with them. The great Finnick Odair, reduced to a terrified quivering mass by an annoyed cephalopod.

“Annie?”

I snap to attention. All three of the kids are staring at me. Wide-eyed, I turn to Alvan.

He gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. We’re here. You’re safe.”

I don’t know what happened and I’m not about to ask, but the sudden silence around the table means it unnerved these poor kids. All they wanted was to learn unimportant little details about me, and instead they got full-sails crazy.

Gale saves us from the impending silence. He leans forward around the boys and says to Alvan, “Alvan, right?”

Alvan nods, leaning back and extending a hand around Rory and Vick. “Pleased to meet ya.”

“You too.” Gale shakes his hand. “Met Dalton yet? He came up here from Ten a few years ago, I guess.”

“Yeah, turns out I used to work for his uncle.”

Alvan and Gale dissolve into some discussion about raising cattle, and Vick and Rory quickly get bored with that and start telling me all about themselves.

“I smashed my finger yesterday!” Vick says.

“Smashed your finger?” I slip into that intense interest that I haven’t used since the last time I saw Cassia Vickers. I start to wonder what is happening to her these days, but force myself to pay attention to the boys across from me.

Vick nods, holding his hand up so I can see the blackened fingernail on his pointer finger. “My class was helping carry supplies from one level to another and I got bumped around and smashed it between the box and the wall.”

“You must be pretty tough,” I say.

He puffs up. “I am.”

“So am I!” Rory says. “I won the wrestling contest for my class last year at school!”

“Did you?”

Rory and Vick spend the next twenty minutes telling me about their various achievements and leaving me little time to respond, which means I can just listen and eat my flavorless soup and handful of grapes and nod or gasp when appropriate.

When our scheduled lunch time is over, we all stand.

“Rory, Vick, Posy, it was nice to meet you.” I give them another smile, then glance at the woman. “And… I’m sorry…” I don’t remember hearing her name, but as reliable as my mind is, it’s hard to tell.

“Hazelle,” she smiles. “I’m Gale’s mom. And these three’s,” she rolls her eyes affectionately.

That makes sense. “It was nice to meet you too, Hazelle.”

She nods. “You too, Annie. You’re always welcome to eat with us, if you can stand it.” Then she extends her smile to Alvan and Gloss. “And you two as well. We know what it’s like to be the outsiders.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Our meal times don’t always match up with the Hawthorne family’s, but when they do, we make sure to sit together. Those kids are amazing, and I tell Hazelle as much one day when they leave before the rest of us to get to class.

“I’m serious. Nobody else will even look at Gloss, and they’re not much better to me and Alvan.”

“I know,” she says, sounding sad. “It’s hard to… Twelve had nothing. It’s hard to look at a Career being mopey and feel bad for him. And Alvan… I know what happened to him, but… he did kill his District counterpart, and that’s hard to overlook in the poor districts. But the kids,” now she smiles, “the kids don’t know that. They just want to hear about life in other places. And now that I know what you’re all like, it's much easier for me too.” Hazelle puts a hand on my shoulder. “I wish you all the best, Annie.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Peeta is on TV, talking to Caesar Flickerman. Peeta is alive. Caesar asks him a question, but all I hear is, “Mags! You wouldn’t lie to us. Do you eat whale in District Four?”

No one has any idea how many victors are still alive, after twelve of them were lined up and shot. The Capitol hasn’t announced any deaths among the others, but maybe they wouldn’t. Or maybe they did and I forgot. Or faded out and didn’t hear. All of those people. My friends. Where are they? What’s happening to them?

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

The next day, we are all called to an assembly in the Collective, a huge room that easily holds the thousands of people who show up. It had to have been built for large gatherings, but since the pox epidemic that Dalton told us about at supper either yesterday or three weeks ago, they can’t have had any need for such a large space. Now that everyone except those with essential jobs are gathered together, I can see how widespread the fallout from the pox is. There are scars everywhere, and the children are few and far between, and most of them slightly disfigured.

Then Coin approaches the podium, calls us to attention, and begins. In the shortest speech I have ever heard, she tells us that Katniss has agreed to be the Mockingjay, provided the victors we lost to the Capitol—Peeta—the crowd is unimpressed by this—Finnick, Johanna, Cecelia, Cashmere—here she starts to lose the crowd to rumbles of dissent—Brutus, and Enobaria—as well as any other victors that are still alive and in the Capitol’s control, will be granted full pardon for any damage they do to the rebel cause.

The crowd’s hostility grows. I can tell exactly where Katniss is standing among them by following the funnel of angry looks.

But Alvan turns to Gloss and me, smiling broadly as he mutters, “Hear that? They’re takin’ care’a y’all.”

Indeed they seem to be. I smile as well. Katniss has demanded Peeta back for herself, but she has also demanded Finnick and Johanna, and Cashmere for Gloss, and Cecelia, and even Brutus and Enobaria, who tried to kill us.

Katniss Everdeen is perhaps not so unfriendly and aloof as the Capitol would have had the rest of the victors believe.

Coin goes on. “But in return for this unprecedented request, Soldier Everdeen has promised to devote herself to our cause. It follows that any deviation from her mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would her own. Thank you.”

Now I hope Katniss is good at listening to instructions and playing the game. Because I’m not losing them again.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

We are all quiet at supper that night. Even Posy, Vick, and Rory.

Finally, even though I know a discussion of hypotheticals won’t make me feel better, or guarantee Katniss will play nice with Coin, I look at Alvan. “Why didn’t you go after them too?”

“Katniss was never my job.”

I frown. He was in on it though, wasn’t he?

Alvan smiles a little, reaches across the table, and squeezes one of my hands. “You were my job. We knew you’d stick with Finnick, but we knew he might have to chase down Katniss or somethin’, so we needed someone-”

“Someone I’d trust.” I smile back at him. “Thank you.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

The next morning, our wrist schedules don’t print the usual nightmare of classes and organized exercise. Instead, it is breakfast, and then Command.

“That’s new.” Gloss frowns at his.

I nod, watching mine print on as well. “You think we did something wrong?”

Alvan shakes his head. “I think Coin remembered she’s got more victors. They’re gonna make us an offer.”

“Or a threat,” Gloss says darkly.

“’N’ what’ll ya do if they do?” Alvan asks as we leave 405 to go to breakfast. “Tell ’em no? With nothin’ to bargain with?”

We eat breakfast in silence. I am digesting what Alvan said, and what he didn’t say, what was left on the fringes. I have less than nothing to bargain with. All I have is things they can use against me.

I’m not Katniss.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

We enter Command together, after showing both guards the schedules on our wrists, and a third guard checking something on his computer. Apparently after the stunts Gloss and I tried to pull, they’re keeping tighter tabs on us when it comes to what rooms we try to get into.

Inside, sitting around a rectangular table, surrounded by TV screens, are Coin and her bodyguard, whose name I don’t know, Plutarch, and his assistant Fulvia. Coin gives us her best look of neutral displeasure.

Plutarch, however, smiles and gestures for us to sit.

I sit in my usual spot next to Gloss, like I would at meals, only to find Alvan sitting down on my other side.

You were my job.

Alvan apparently takes his jobs very seriously.

I brace for terrible news, for threats against my family and friends, for everything Snow has said and would have said if he’d had one more meeting with me.

What I get is something entirely unexpected.

Coin leans forward, steepling her fingers in front of her chin as she leans her elbows on the table and scrutinizes us. “Will you fight?” she asks.

I blink.

“Fight?”

“What?”

Plutarch jumps in. “We have our Mockingjay. We have…” he takes a deep breath, “Haymitch, who knows how to work with her, and is very smart despite how he sometimes acts. We have Beetee, developing weapons and technology. And we have you three.”

I want to make some joke about how we’re the two they didn’t want and one they wanted the rest of us to kill, but Plutarch goes on.

“You are victors,” he says.

This feels like a trap. Like I just ran out of water tablets and Plutarch is promising me more if only I’ll walk around this blind corner, jump into this murky water, swim into this cave. He is a Gamemaker, after all. I frown.

“Why?” Alvan asks quietly. “Ya got your Mockingjay. Haven’t we fought enough?”

Coin opens her mouth, but Plutarch beats her to it. “We don’t need you to go to the front lines. We just need you to look like you’re fighting. We need your faces and your support.”

“You need us to be your Peeta,” I say, surprising even myself.

Plutarch nods. “If the districts see other victors standing up with Katniss… Well, it could turn the tide.”

“I’m not the moon, Plutarch.”

“Agreed, but everyone loved the Tiger Shark.”

His statement hangs in the air for a while.

I look at the table, thinking. I’m not sure I can trust myself to do anything. It’s not life-or-death anymore, something I have to do to survive, and I don’t have Finnick to keep me grounded.

Finnick.

Like I’ve willed him into existence, I see his name on the table. I frown. Then I realize it is Coin’s speech from last night. The hard copy, laying here on the table in front of us, a promise and a threat, hanging over our heads.

I nod.

“I s’pose,” Alvan says. “Who knows what y’all’ll do to me ’f I don’t.”

“Yeah,” Gloss says.

“Excellent!” Plutarch claps his hands together. “Fulvia, we’ll need those costumes as soon as possible, and we’ll have to get with Beetee for weapons, and-”

Coin is still giving us the neutral look of displeasure.

“What?” Alvan frowns back at her. “Y’ain’t so sure now that ya got us?”

The neutral look of displeasure deepens to a real frown. “You may be victors to the rest of Panem, but here you are citizens like the rest of us. I assure you, I have made no promises to anyone for your safety. It would be unfortunate if I had to arrange for an accident to befall any of you if you were no longer useful.” Then she stands and leaves.

Alvan stares after her. Gloss stares through the table.

My hands are shaking. I’ve heard this before.

It didn’t matter what they threatened her with. It never has. I guess this was the easiest solution.

The door closes.

“I don’t want to be Megary,” I whisper, before I can stop myself.

“Ya won’t.” Alvan grabs my wrist. “Hear me, Annie? No more Megarys.”

Gloss’s head whips around to stare at Plutarch. “I’ve played this game before,” he growls, “and I don’t want to play it again.”

Plutarch watches us for several seconds. Then he nods, very slowly. “Nothing bad will happen to any of you, I give you my word. And I won’t let President Coin threaten any of your people to make you cooperate.”

“I don’t have anyone she can get hold of, Plutarch,” Alvan snaps. “That’s the only reason I’m still fightin’.” Then he stands up and storms toward the door.

I follow, Gloss right behind me.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Fulvia tracks us down in minutes and sends us down to Special Weaponry, where four guards verify our identities, and Fulvia’s, in four different ways, before finally letting us through the door.

Beetee, sitting in a wheelchair, meets us inside. “I see you decided to join up,” he says with something close to a smile. He turns his gaze to Fulvia. “Thank you, Fulvia, that will be all.”

Fulvia nods and leaves.

“This way.” Beetee wheels away, off toward a wall with a big work table in front of it. On the table is an assortment of knives, two swords, and two spears. On the wall hangs what I can only call a cornucopia’s worth of weapons.

I catch myself approaching the table, trailing my fingers along one of the copper-colored spears.

“They collapse,” Beetee says. “I wanted them to be as easy to carry as possible, should you need it.” He picks up the spear near the point. “Just twist-” he twists the top eight inches one way, and the rest of it the other way, “-here.” The spear sucks in on itself, shrinking to maybe eighteen inches long, with the point still sharp and ready. It’s still a weapon, but now it’s a shank. Beetee passes me the other spear and lets me collapse it myself, then expand both by twisting them the other way.

I nod. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I hope the weights are correct.”

I hold one, feeling out the balance. “A little heavy, but I’m a little out of fighting shape.”

Beetee gestures down the room, to a dummy range down the long wall.

“Hm.” I heft the spear in my hand, take a few steps forward in a wind-up, and hurl the spear toward one of the training dummies. The spear sinks into its stomach with a satisfying thump. I smile. At least I won’t be defenseless when Coin tries to make me into Megary.

I throw spears—my own collapsible pair and a half-dozen normal spears Beetee has laying around—while Beetee talks Alvan through the pair of swords and their slight differences and Gloss through his choice of throwing knives, and a nice belt to carry them on.

Before too long, Gloss is next to me at the dummy range, throwing knives with an accuracy that is both terrifying and comforting. I tell myself the dummies are fish. Big swordfish, on the line for hours, on the fight. It’s easier that way.

We only quit when it’s time for supper. My muscles are pleasantly sore. And I have no idea what they want us to do with our new toys that we had to leave locked down in Special Weaponry.

****

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#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #the hawthorne family #dissociation #ptsd #thirteen might hate gloss but i sure don't #love me that idiot

[voyageofthenautilus]

Mod Blue’s Thoughts: March 13/14

The Sargasso Sea, Part 2

”Once this voyage was over, might not Captain Nemo consent to set us free in return for our promise never to reveal his existence? Our word of honor, which we sincerely would have kept.” My dude, you are literally in the middle of writing a tell-all memoir, but suuuure, let’s believe you would have kept your word… (More on this in a hot second.)

“He had thumbed through my work on the great ocean depths, and the margins were covered with his notes, which sometimes contradicted my theories and formulations. But the captain remained content with this method of refining my work, and he rarely discussed it with me.” What a passive-aggressive king.

I love how a good portion of the fish lists in this chapter is Aronnax going “sounds fake, but okay.”

I also love that Nemo is asking Aronnax to explain stuff to him, when I feel like it’s usually been the other way around in their relationship. Maybe he’s pretending not to know so that Aronnax will keep talking. (I’m now picturing him gazing into Aronnax’s eyes and twirling his hair and going “ummm I don’t think I understand, can you explain it again? *giggle*” And… now I am not sure what to do with that mental image.)

Oh my god I forgot about the photo-taking scene! How delightful!

okay, so here’s my thought from the beginning that I wanted to go back to. “I attach a print of the positive.” This makes it sound like Aronnax definitely has an audience in mind for his diary. Is he meant to be writing this diary while he’s on board the Nautilus? Is he meant to be writing this after the events of the story? I know there’s a chapter where he mentions that he has started writing the diary… but some chapters definitely sound like he’s writing in hindsight. And then there’s the details that The Mysterious Island brings… and now that I’m thinking about that, I’m having a lot of Feelings, but I’ll expound upon those elsewhere once I do my Mysterious Island re-read, I suppose.

Finally, as epic a closing scene as the Nautilus leaping out of the water is… that would NOT end well in real life…

Sperm Whales and Baleen Whales

I feel SO bad for Ned, being trapped on the Nautilus away from his friends and family on land and unable to partake in his favorite pastimes… even if his favorite pastimes are killing sea life, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

“Do these animals live a long time?” Conseil asked.

“A thousand years,” the Canadian replied without hesitation.

“And how, Ned,” I asked, “do you know that’s so?”

“Because people say so.”

“And why do people say so?”

“Because people know so.”

LMAO. Also, Ned’s theory about whales and how they used to swim faster is just… what in the Ishmael?!

“But Ned my friend,” Conseil said, “why not ask Captain Nemo for permission to hunt—”

Before Conseil could finish his sentence, Ned Land scooted down the hatch and ran to look for the captain.

A common refrain, but: someone needs to draw this.

Wow, Nemo really hates those sperm whales. What’d they do to him, kill his family or someth—

okay, but that ending is horrible. What the hell, Nemo. I forgot how much earlier in the narrative this side of his character starts to rear its head (we’ve already seen a bit of it, but this act in particular does not bode well and sets up for some major shit later on). And to think he killed them all in the name of protecting the baleen whales, but the very end reveals that at least one of the baleen whales was still killed by the sperm whales, so what was the point of all that? Let nature do its thing and don’t try to meddle with it in some show of superiority. Anyway, this isn’t usually the kind of thing that makes me emotional but I am genuinely upset over that baby baleen whale…

…and then Nemo and the crew go and collect milk from it without another thought, and Aronnax is somehow able to shove all the nasty business out of his head and enjoy the experience of trying the milk. Wow. I have… Thoughts about this.

The Ice Bank, Part 1

*reads chapter title* OH, YES! YESSSSSSSS this means my second-favorite chapter is coming up in a bit! So hyped…

Iceberg classification! Is there anything Conseil can’t classify?

#thoughts from mod blue #voyage of the nautilus

[upagainstthesunset]

Cursed Images: A Metron Series in Two Parts

Part 1 - The Early Years (1970-2005)

I’ve now gone through all of Metron’s appearances across several different titles, and it’s always fun seeing various artists’ interpretations of the character. And of course by “fun” I mean “maddening and rage inducing”. I know, I know, even published artists are at various skill levels and have their own unique styles. Sure, fine, I get that. But what I’m talking about here are choices. Choices made by people who saw the original design and went NAHHH. They truly looked at New Gods 1971 and said “I wonder who that’s for?” So this series is a compilation of the worst offenders because I have to share these with someone or I will surely implode. The list ranges from personal pet peeves to mind-boggling portrayals. Feel free to chime in, share opinions, even argue for or against the list. As long as seeing this makes you go, “wtf” at least once, then I’ve done my job. Without further ado I give you...

1. Mister Miracle (1971) #18

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron from the waist up. He is looking upwards with an open mouthed frown. His eyes lack pupils and the width of his face makes him look non-human. /End]

Can you believe it? the first entry is drawn by none other than Jack Kirby himself. If anyone has the right to alter Metron’s design, it’d be him, and by god did he do it. Even if we don’t mention the strange eyes and fish-like facial features, the ears aren’t covered (a cardinal sin in my book), and the shirt design is all kinds of a-typical. 

2. New Gods (1977) #8

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron’s face in three quarters view. He is looking ahead sternly with red flames in the background. /End]

First off, whomst? This looks like someone cosplaying as Metron. Who is this man? Anyway, here we see what I consider to be another cardinal sin. No cut-out on the forehead. The penciler for most of this run of New Gods clearly took inspiration from 1st Issue Special #13 (not pictured here) where Mike Vosburg pioneered this look (unfortunately). The M shape is there, its just all cowl. I wish I could put into words what it is about this that annoys me. I guess it’s maybe stripping uniqueness away from the design. Anyway, I also chose this one bc what is with the absolute lack of eyebrows on the cowl? Blasphemy. And the face is just way too open. 

3. Justice League of America (1960) #183

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron sitting in the Mobius chair, facing the viewer and tilted to the side. The art has a boxy style to it, and the chair is orange. /End]

Okay, most of my problem with this one is the Mobius chair. WHY is it yellow/orange? WHY is it so boxy?? And most of all, WHY did they color it so that it blends in with Metron’s suit to make HIM look boxy as well??? I don’t mind the changes to the design on his chest, and the cowl is fine. It’s really just how the artists did the chair dirty, and it ended up making the overall composition quite bizarre.

4. Justice League International (1987) #12

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron from the chest up. He is looking down at an angle with a flat expression, and had a hand on his chest. Pink smoke rises from the left side of his chest. /End]

The lack of detail and lines on the face is purely this artist’s style, so no issues there. But am I NOT supposed to notice the freaking TINY forehead cut-out??? SO SMALL. And it’s not an M shape, which does kind of bother me. Like, at least they’ve got the eyebrows in there, but still. Why did they draw it this way? :(

5. New Gods (1986) #6

[Image: Cropped comic panel close up on Metron’s face. He is staring forward towards the viewer with his mouth slightly open and his brow crinkled. /End]

Alright. That’s on me for complaining about lack of eyebrows and facial detail before. Now we have DOUBLE thick eyebrows and a weirdly wrinkled forehead. Every time I see this I feel like the eyebrows are toothpaste. And what’s with the beady white eyes? Sigh. At least the forehead is cut out and has somewhat of an M shape. Guess I gotta take my wins where I can get them.

6. JLA (1997) #11

[Image: Two cropped comic panels of Metron. The first is a full body shot of him on the Mobius chair, which looks to be coming out of a fiery portal. The second is a close up of his face as he turns to look toward the viewer with squinted eyes with red dots of energy in the background. /End]

Howard Porter and Grant Morrison, I just want to talk. Besides making the Mobius chair silver and weirdly cushy, I HATE the square eye thing. It’s a staple of Morrison’s portrayals of Metron for some reason, and It’s so stupid and has no reason behind it that I can tell besides making him look sinister. All the other New Gods look human-ish, but no. Had to go and make Metron look edgy. I know he’s supposed to be cold and more like his machines, but he’s still a god. That’s the duality! Read beyond the surface level I am begging! So yeah, the square eyes is to me the ultimate manifestation of someone not actually getting Metron’s character.

7. Jack Kirby’s Fourth World (1997) #13

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron’s face in dark lighting. He has a serious expression and speaks to someone out of view to the side. /End]

By all rights this shouldn’t be on the list. I’m actually totally fine with John Byrne’s art. Sure the eyes are the wrong color, and the mask on the cheeks can be a bit too sharp at times, but fine. Fine. My problem here is SO petty and I know it. It’s that the forehead has three dots. There’s supposed to be one. ONE. And the reason it irks me is that three forehead dots is a Braniac thing. BRANIAC. The utter gall to even COMPARE the two!! I’m sorry but Coluans WISH they were on Metron’s level. I will die on this hill if I have to.

8. Jack Kirby’s Fourth World (1997) #16

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron’s face, slightly smiling while speaking and looking forwards and upwards. /End]

SIGH.

When I said I didn’t like the three forehead dots, THIS isn’t what I had in mind. I’m truly suffering.

9. Superman: The Dark Side #2

[Image: Two comic panels of the character Metron. The first is at an upwards angle from the chest with his hand resting on the arm of his chair. The second is a close up of his face as he says “No.” In both he wears a black suit with many blue lines. His face is also full of lines and wrinkles. /End]

Where do I even start with this? The forehead M not being cut out is like the least of my worries at this point. The most obvious issue is the very wrinkly face. What is even going on here? Is he super old? Is he diseased? Is he dying? I literally do not know why he’s drawn like that. The design choice to make his suit black isn’t really new, since I think originally it was supposed to be that way with a blueish tint. So okay, sure. But the lines. My god, the many lines. Even all over his hands! And ughh alright, so no forehead cutout, but the CHIN is cut out. THE CHIN. WHY. And whatdya know, square eyes again. Someone release me from this hell.

10. JLA (1997) #114

[Image: Cropped comic panel of Metron from the hips up sitting in the Mobius chair. One hand rests on the chair arm’s console, and the other is at his chin. He is squinting and saying, “Entry forty-seven.” /End]

Sooo no forehead cutout this time, not even an M on the forehead. And the big wrist cuffs are a first. But WOW the most egregious thing here is the face itself. WHY??? I AM BEGGING FOR ANSWERS. I should never have complained about the square eyes, huh? This is what I get in return. Okay, I took a minute to review the rest of the issue, and maybe Ron Garney just really hates drawing eyes because everyone is squinty. But NOBODY ELSE looks like THIS. For real tho, someone drew this and thought, “this is fine.” Welp, can’t believe we’re only half way through with this list. I’m already in so much pain. 

#metron #fourth world #new gods #katetakes #metron if i fits i sits #metronmeta