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#but I will answer them~

It REALLY shook me. I have never seen anything like that from either of them, and I feel like I know Dean especially better than I know myself.

It’s like I said here, Dean is so turned around by Chuck’s manipulation, by Billie’s, that he doesn’t know which way is up at this point.  He wants his freedom more than he wants anything in the universe, and he is so worked up in his fear and his rage and his hatred that he’s willing to do anything, literally anything, to get it.

His tunnel vision is how Chuck gets his ending, which is why, when Sam breaks through, Dean looks at his gun like he doesn’t even remember getting it out, because it’s the difference between him making the decision and Chuck making him make the decision.  Chuck’s ending vs. theirs.  Their love vs. their fear.

It’s so powerful, for the big bad to be playing his games with their fear, never taking into account not only their love for one another, but their love for their family.

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Anon, I am all about this! I can totally picture Beau and Yasha walking off together thinking they’re being subtle and Jester and Fjord catching it and making eye contact. And then it slowly changes into something slightly awkward and charged, because well, like you said, that could be them. They’d both so happy for Beau and Yasha and the conversation would start off totally innocent and almost immediately veer into dangerous territory.

Ha. In a situation like this, it would lead to a moment where they’d almost kiss for the first time and end up being interrupted by someone. And then one of them would have to leave the room. Cue longing looks and more mutual pining.

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@copycaat​ groused: “Why is it when you speak, you sound like a sane person, but as I look around here all I see are products of madness and degeneracy?”


it is cold and raining lightly — misting, really, to haku’s vague disappointment — but the rooftops outside the kitchen window are empty. haku loves overcast days like this. the closest approximation to fog that konoha gets sweeps low over the tops of trees, the village’s incessant sprint slows to a hurried walk, and the fire country natives grasp frantically at umbrellas, books, jackets, and clipboards as barriers against the rain like one of haku’s pet scorpions.

when they’re in one of their funks, haku likes curling up in the window seat with a cup of sakura yu and watching them run. not maliciously; it’s just funny. they run like they’re afraid of melting. they are. they should be.

of course a shock of silver blocks their view, a familiar crinkle leaning into haku’s eyeline. “Maa, Haku-kun,” kakashi drawls, knuckle rapping against glass. “Spare a towel? I left mine at home.”

for a split second haku thinks, That is nothing. That means nothing. then they think about ignoring him. no, he will simply knock until they’re fed up and the melancholy vibe will be ruined and then how else will haku vaguely interact with the maudlin veil draped over their eyes?

❛      It is raining snakes and frogs,      ❜ haku unlocks the window and waves kakashi indoors, eyes narrowing as kakashi’s shoulders tense like a wet dog seconds before he shakes. ❛     Sai-kun painted that,      ❜ they tip their chin toward the painted scroll hanging behind kakashi. the warning in haku’s eyes stops kakashi in his tracks. ❛     Stay here.” don’t touch anything.     I will find you a towel.      ❜

it only takes a few moments — haku has a number of fluffy, absorbent towels; with the way water clings to them sometimes, it’s a necessity — but of course when they re-enter the living room kakashi is strolling about, running his eye over the scorpion terrariums, the kitchen table messily draped in scrolls and anatomy books and makeup and paquettes of home-made poisons, the empty rabbit hutch in the corner with the tin of non-toxic varnish at its feet, glittery hairclips and an old, battered steel sword, too many candles for a normal person, the small forest of house plants and an icha icha volume or two.  

kakashi picks up an icha icha, examines the origami flower bookmark poking from its pages, and slips it back inside before setting the book down with the most care haku has ever seen him handle anything. “Interesting.”

❛     Thank you.      ❜ haku tosses the towel to him with shuriken precision. kakashi catches it effortlessly and unfurls it lazily over his dripping hair, still regarding haku with that same lazy expression.

“I never said it was a good interesting.”

❛     Quality has nothing to do with interesting,      ❜ haku’s reply is as mild as the tea they return to sipping. curling back into the windowseat, haku doesn’t bother looking back at the man. he will get bored soon enough.       ❛     A present left on your doorstep and an unexpected disappearance are both considered curious. How you feel about them means nothing. They must only be strange.      ❜

“Huh,” kakashi says. huh. “Haku-kun, why is it when you speak, you sound like a sane person, but as I look around here all I see are products of madness and degeneracy?”

haku keeps their eyes on the window. droplets run down the pane, accumulate and bleed into each other. accumulate, run and bleed. accumulate, run, bleed. in the streets below, people do much the same.

change. they like that. something inside them craves that.

❛     Does it matter?      ❜ haku says evenly, blowing the steam from their tea and glancing at kakashi over the rim. is kakashi getting bored of their little chats? haku is. interesting. interesting.  ❛     How I am now has nothing to do with who I will be next.      ❜

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more like im the one who did something to myself 😀🔫

THANK U SM FOR WORRYING BUT IM FINE REALLY AJJDKDKD i kinda did something terrible and i was kinda beating myself 0ver it but ive beat myself enough to not let myself repeat the samme thing soooooo im good 👍👍👍

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