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chaoticbardlady99 · 7 months

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Lethal Woman: Chapter 5 (GN! Reader x Astarion)

Note: I know a lot of people don't necessarily read this piece of my work, but for the people who do, I'm sorry for the wait! This one is kinda angsty and still digs into the character's background. I want to create a Durge x Astarion type of relationship rather than a Tav x Astarion type of relationship so the character has some trauma.

Also this character is my way of working through my own traumatic experiences so I guess sorry????

CW: Violence, Gore, mention of Child/Teen SA (very very brief), death, torture, PTSD, murder, dissociation, and panic attacks.

Background- You are a Nightmask Death Bringer who was kidnapped by a Nautiloid Ship. Along with 6 strangers, you search Faerun for a cure for the Tadpoles in your heads- before it’s too late.

Chapter Six

You have never enjoyed verbal confrontation- not because you weren’t good at it, but because it feels like a waste of time when it’s so much easier to throw knives at the problem. You know that it comes from a place of survival- arguing with Dahlia always ended in you being tortured for however many days or nights she felt like you deserved. You learned to stop arguing after the first few months of your training and just do what Dahlia told you to do.

The only verbal confrontations you have engaged in recently was during your assignments, but they were always brief and forgotten quickly.

However, your argument with Astarion three days ago has consumed your every waking thought.

You honestly weren’t sure what chain of events had led to the explosive discussion involving confronting the three Goblin Leaders when the day had started so typically.

You and your companions (minus Astarion) all agreed that going to the grove to fight Kagha is a priority and that they couldn’t allow the Shadow Druids to take over the grove. Astarion, however, hadn’t seen it that way. He kept insisting that it was a waste of time, resources, and energy. You didn’t mind the bitching at all- you weren’t necessarily thrilled about “saving the day” either and if it were just adults you would walk away from the whole ordeal- except there are children who need to be protected.

It’s your one and only rule- you do not abandon children in need. You don’t want anyone to ever fall into the wrong hands like you had. Eventually, Astarion stopped being huffy.

The fight had erupted quickly and Kagha had managed to slip into the shadows unnoticed in the midst of the chaos. You had barely seen her in time when you realized she was going to run Astarion through with a stake.

You had never sprinted so fast in your entire life as you put yourself between him and Kagha, grabbing the stake that was mere inches from your chest. You would have felt entirely victorious if she hadn’t then stabbed you all the way through with the shortsword she had attached to her belt- twisting it deeply into your abdomen until you release the stake. You feel her pull the sword out before stabbing you through your chest with the sharpened wood.

You had always thought stabbing a vampire with a stake as a tried and trued method of killing them was stupid- anyone would die if they were stabbed hard enough with a WOODEN FUCKING STAKE.

Maybe Dahlia was right- maybe being attached to people is a bad idea because you hadn’t even taken a good look at Kagha before you ran (which is reckless and not how you were trained to fight).

You had heard Shadowheart scream your name and saw two flaming hands go past your face as they consumed Kagha. The black dots in your vision had been followed with the unpleasant numbness that you knew all too well.

The fear sank into your bones like an anchor. Your breathing had begun to speed up and you felt the panic rip through you as you were being dragged away- unpleasant images flash in your mind and you started to thrash against the person holding you. You began screaming bloody murder and you clawed at the air like a trapped animal. You could barely hear the person’s voice over your looping thoughts and racing heart.

No, no, no, no, no. Please. I’ll listen. I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me. Don’t leave me here. I’ll do better. I’ll be better!

You hadn’t known until the end of the battle that Astarion had been the one carrying you away and had to hold you down as Shadowheart and Nettie came rushing to your aid after the final enemy went down.

You could hear two voices trying to snap you out of whatever fear driven fog you were in, but you were still choking on your own air, floating away in space. Disconnected. Disassociated. You felt the tadpole wiggle behind your eyes, but you were too far gone in your head to even register it.

Dahlia had killed and resurrected you a few times as a punishment. Sometimes she would leave you out in the sun for a few days before resurrecting you- the process of your skin, organs, muscles, and tendons repairing themselves after being eaten by critters and bugs is a different kind of pain- one you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. What was even worse was that Dahlia eventually found out how to bring you back just enough that you were aware of the vermin desecrating your body, but not enough for you to do anything about it- forced to feel yourself becoming nourishment for the creatures in the forest as you struggled to survive mentally.

Dahlia threatened to turn you into her spawn if you didn't remain half way in your body until she came back to get you. You knew her threat was serious because she had taken you coffin shopping after the first time she killed and resurrected you. You had gone for a wood one so that the endeavor could be over with, but Dahlia instead made you lay down in every coffin on display in the showroom- ultimately picking a gaudy, lockable, and iron coffin for you. You were 13-years-old.

Dahlia enjoyed driving you to the brink of insanity- only to come back and be your savior or your villain. Somehow she had convinced you that it’s entirely up to you what version of her you received, but it never mattered how well you listened sometimes. She told you you wouldn’t know when she would decide you were past the point of no return and no longer had any use for you as a Deathbringer. Thank the Gods she wanted to make you a Deathbringer more than she wanted you to be her spawn.

You weren’t sure when Nettie had forced an herb into your mouth that calms you down; you had eventually come back to yourself just enough to stop fighting her and Shadowheart’s efforts to heal you.

Karlach was sitting next to your head and was talking about nothing and everything. Astarion had sat himself on the staircase nearby and you could feel his eyes boring into you as you flinched away and hissed from the healers’ touch. You tried to make yourself smaller, your anxiety getting worse by the minute. It wouldn’t bother you usually, but you weren’t of sound mind in that particular moment.

As you became more alert, you made eye contact with Astarion and you were shocked to see him staring at you with anger and grief in his eyes.

You hadn’t known (and still didn’t know) that Astarion had been in your head using the tadpole to try to snap you out of whatever hell you were in and he had seen all of it- every last thing Dahlia did to you. The time she hired a man to violently take your virginity after your first moon blood at 14, the resurrections, the priests of Loviatar that would come for days on end to beat you until you wanted to die, and Tessa. Poor, sweet, beautiful Tessa with her mangled corpse and heart being eaten.

The walk to camp had thankfully been an easy one. Gale had thankfully had dinner ready by the time your group came back and you sat around the campfire to have dinner with the others. Astarion sat next to you and you couldn’t help but notice how rigid he was. He would usually have his leg touching yours and he would lean in to whisper some snide remark in your ear about whoever was talking- forcing you to suppress laughter as to not bring attention to the two of you.

Except for tonight apparently- he hadn’t even spoken to you the entire time and made sure there was a considerable amount of distance between you and him. Then the argument happened.

Wyll and Gale had brought up the plan to take out the Goblin leaders and find Halsin. They had gathered information about the leaders at the grove from Zevlor and had a plan in mind.

Wyll suggested that everyone split up so that more ground could be covered faster and it would prevent anyone from burning out since they wouldn't be participating in three (possibly four) separate battles.

“So I was thinking that Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion would take on Minthara. Myself, Gale, and Lae’zel will take on Dror Ragzlin,” Wyll paused before looking at you, “and if you are up to it in the next three days- I think it would be best if you kill the Priestess and then jailbreak Halsin alone.”

“That way, we can all remain somewhat under the radar while we are gathering information regarding the Absolute and their Cultists,” Gale chimed in, “and hopefully we will get substantial information before you charge into battle with Halsin.”

You pondered their vision and it made sense to you. Priestess Gut would be an easy kill and you can’t imagine that the Goblins guarding Halsin will be much of a challenge either. Except you were unsure of how much better you would feel within 3 days.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” you said slowly, “does anyone ob-”

You didn’t even get a chance to finish before Astarion began ripping into Wyll and Gale’s plan- specifically the part about you being alone. He had stood up and gotten into Wyll’s face as he rose to meet the other man's eyes

“What kind of moronic plot is that,” Astarion hissed, “they’ve been injured you ignorant fucks.”

“Astarion,” you said with an edge to your tone.

He whipped around with that same anger and grief he had looked at you with earlier.

“You honestly believe you’ll be ready in three days to take on an Absolute Priestess and a group of Goblins by yourself?”

“Yes, in fact, I do,” you stood up, your voice firm, “I’ve been hurt worse and been able to keep fighting after one day. What happened today-”

He cut you off with a growl, “I knew you were naive, Darling, but I didn’t realize how dense you are.”

You frowned and said in a whisper, “I don’t know what the word means.”

“Simple-minded, brainless, dull-witted,” he retorted, “must I continue or are you educated enough to understand what I’m trying to say.”

You were not made to be loved- only to kill, die, and serve.

You felt your brain disconnect from your body as you swallowed down the emotions. You watched as something in his eyes changed, but you had begun walking away towards your tent. You heard Karlach scold him, but you were already shaking it off- like you said, you’ve experienced worse before and have been able to keep going the next day.

It didn't change the fact that his words had broken you- he knew that not being able to read or write was a sore spot for you. It was also something you didn’t want to publicize to your other companions. You had been staying up together at night- him reading to you and you listening- making the occasional comment or asking a question. Sometimes you just listen to him tell you about Cazador and Baldur’s Gate. If you fall asleep, he doesn’t move you- instead he sits next to you until you wake up and you walk back to camp together.

You had thought those moments were sacred and important to him like they were to you. You were ashamed to discover it had been an act the whole time and you had been naive enough to fall for it.

Over the next three days, you avoided him like the plague and he avoided you too. Your nightmares have come back in full force now that your nightly ritual has ceased. Your injury has healed almost entirely despite the occasional soreness, but you are so tired you are barely present as you and your companions walk towards the Goblin Camp.

Karlach is your angel from the Hells today as she keeps your spirits high with her bright demeanor.

“Soldier, I am so excited for you to see my infernal engine in action,” she puffs out her chest with pride, “Dammon’s explanation doesn’t even begin to do it justice- even if he says a lot of pretty words with that nice mouth of his.”

“Thank you for that Karlach,” you say with a snort, “been imagining what other talents his mouth has?”

You begin to cackle as Karlach turns even more red before giving you a shove.

“Ughhh have mercy on me! He’s just so pretty and his voice!,” she whines with a dramatic, angsty sigh, “A girl can dream.”

“Or a girl can put on her big girl panties and ask to fuck him already.”

“Oh, SHUT UP you vulgar-!” she puts you in a headlock and scratches the top of your head with her knuckles- effectively ruining your hair, but putting the biggest smile on your face.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion watches you laugh and dick around with Karlach. He feels the corners of his lips tease into a small smile before he begins to frown again. He notices the dark circles under your eyes and the slight drag in your step, but he doesn’t even know where to begin if he was to approach you.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s missed your presence and your nightly rendezvous together. Truth be told, a part of him is fearful that he’ll never be able to have those moments with you again.

His anger had been misdirected at you that night at the fire. He had been so angry with himself (and those dipshits, Wyll and Gale) that he had taken it out on you. Instead of asking you to take care of yourself or refusing to let you go alone, he decided to publicly shame you.

The first night you didn’t show up at your agreed-upon spot had twisted his heart and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the feeling came back the second and the third night too.

He hasn’t cared for someone like this in the last two centuries and he hates it. The last three days had been hell- he followed you every time you left camp to go hunting, check traps, etc. He would give you your privacy of course if you were going to bathe in the river, but even then he would anxiously look around camp until you came back. He tells himself it’s because he knows you are his best chance at being free of Cazador- that he is merely worried for your safety and cares because without you, he doesn’t stand a chance.

Then there is the part of him that has begun to crave your company just as a companion and he enjoys the friendship between you. This part of him feels like just being your friend will never be enough.

He refuses to admit his plan may be falling apart, despite it barely beginning. Thankfully, his feelings of self-loathing are keeping him preoccupied.

He despises himself for being so blind to the fact that you and your nightmares were not from the tadpole, but from the abuse inflicted upon you by that wretched woman- Dahlia. Even thinking her name made him see red and filled him with bitter rage.

He remembers the night he told you about Cazador burying him alive for a year. He remembers how you had said you understood how he felt and how he had gotten upset with you. You didn’t correct him- didn’t tell him that you have been in a similar situation. He doesn’t know which is worse- being buried in shadows, confined for a year or being left out in the sun to slowly rot and be eaten away.

He wishes you had corrected him, but maybe you felt like he couldn’t protect you due to his own history of abuse. Maybe he had made you feel like your pain didn’t matter to him.

Then, when you began thrashing around in his arms, he had never felt more powerless as he watched you disappear inside your own head like he has done many times. He ground his teeth every time you flinched away from Nettie and Shadowheart. His mind insisted on reminding him of how you looked at him with so much fear and rage while he held you down; how it felt watching your memories- your pain- being ripped open all because you decided to protect him. Again.

Then his attempt to protect you failed because he ultimately pushed you away, but maybe that is for your own good too. However, you pushing him away has not changed his plan for today’s fight.

He will not be going with Shadowheart and Karlach. He had initially planned on approaching them about this, but they came to him first- asking him to hang back with you, undetected, then meeting up with them later. Karlach and Shadowheart told him that they were just as upset with Gale and Wyll’s plan and were going to object before he stepped in.

He’s the only one who has a ring of invisibility and the stealth to keep you from suspecting you are being ‘babysat’ as he had overheard you call it when Karlach had suggested she come with you.

The goblins outside of the camp had been easy to bypass- Astarion had even convinced the goblin to kiss his shoe (which earned a hushed laugh from you that made him hopeful). Astarion watched as you caught and helped the Owlbear Cub escape, but on the opposite side of that coin, you managed to get Volo in more trouble.

You convince Wyll to hold off on the plan until you are able to free Volo- seeing as leaving a famous bard to die at a Goblin Camp would not bid well for the Night Masks and that would not be doing you any favors. Astarion was shocked when Wyll expressed understanding.

Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach go with you as Gale, Wyll, and Lae’zel search for Dror Ragzlin.

The rescue mission quickly turns into another rescue mission when your small group stumbles across a man being tortured by Goblins. Astarion is quick to convince the goblins that they were being summoned elsewhere and, at your behest, he frees the battered man after he gives you more information about the Nightsong.

The Goblins had mentioned a man in the next room over so Astarion begins to walk in that direction and you follow him closely- your hand hovering over the hilt of your dagger as you scan the area cautiously.

Astarion rounds the corner and sees a man that looks like he needs more iron in his diet. The all black garb was not helping and honestly? Neither is the haircut.

The man turns and scans the group before his eyes settle on you. Astarion feels his stomach turn as the man gives you a wickedly happy grin. Astarion moves closer to you and eyes the man cautiously, leering at him in the process.

“I remember you,” the man says, “you’re Dahlia’s little brat, are you not? I remember the first time we met- your screams were positively delicious.”

Astarion hears your breath hitch. You are frozen in place, fingers trembling slightly as you fix your posture and take a deep breath. Astarion watches mournfully as you lose yourself in your head.

“Hello Abdirak.”

Abdirak’s smile grows even wider at your empty greeting.

“What a blessing it must be- for us to meet again, Rowan. Won’t you join me in worshiping My Lady?”

Shadowheart pipes up, “I didn’t know you were into such things Rowan. I would love to see a demonstration.”

“Absolutely not,” Astarion hisses.

“I’ll do it.”

He whips around to look at you as you walk up to the wall. He watches as you take each hit, but you are goading the man the entire time. The throws get more and more painful to watch and he hears Karlach take sharp breaths every time an ax sticks in your back. You walk back over and let Shadowheart heal you as she praises you for your vigor. Astarion uses every last bit of restraint he has to not punch Shadowheart in the jaw.

You look distant as you drink a healing potion from your pack before turning back to Abdirak as he spouts on about his wonderful “memories” of worshiping with you. Astarion's hands go to his dagger as he gears up to kill the man.

A flash of movement from your direction prevents him from moving forward.

Astarion wasn’t prepared for you to cut the man’s throat so violently in one quick motion. Blood pours from Abdirak’s neck and out of his mouth as he chokes. His eyes are wide with fear as you push him on his back- your eyes bright, crimson red and consumed with indifference. Abdirak chokes and looks at you with pleading eyes, but you take a step back as the rats begin to claw and eat at him. The whole endeavor is disgusting and horrific- Astarion could not be more proud to know you. His strangled cries are cut short as he finally succumbs to his wounds.

Without saying anything, you turn on your heels and stalk to the next room, Astarion quickly in tow. You free Volo before Astarion can even enter the room- the Goblin that had taken Volo away dead on the floor.

You come out of the room and make eye contact with him. Your eyes are blank and your face is emotionless. You turn away from him and stalk off in the direction of the priestess. He gives you a decent head start before casting the spell and sneaking in behind you as Priestess Gut closes the door.

Let the bloodshed begin.

#astarion x reader #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #karlach #astarion ancunin #astarion x gender neutral reader #astarion x gn! reader #astarion x gn! tav

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pick-me-up-im-scared · 2 years

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So Called Revenge (Hiccup x Reader) (Angst)

Author's Note: I felt like doing a one-shot where the reader gets treated shitty, but then gets revenge. I've read stories where the gang (minus Hiccup) treats the reader bad, and I've always thought "but where's the revenge?". So, now I've taken matters in my own hands and wrote the ultimate badass respond. I'm clearly going through something, haha. I'm sorry Astrid for taking it out on you...

Short Summary: You’re getting abused by the dragon riders, both mentally and physically. Ever since you were a kid they seem to have something against you. Though there’s one person who’s not mean to you. Hiccup. You’ve been friends with him for a while now and your getting along very well. Matter of fact, you have a crush on him.

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story includes swearing and gore and a brief suicide scene.

And if you're very prude, you might consider that this story including smut. There's no sexual acts, just some light "describing".

(y/n/n) = your nickname

Words: 4489

(I don't own any of the GIFs)

Your pov:

Another day in the beloved village called Berk. Notice my sarcasm. Well let's be clear, it's not necessarily the village that's the problem. Rather the people living in it. Even more specifically, a group of dragon riders. My life hasn't been the best, but it could be worse. That's until I hit my teenage years and the dragon riders decided to make my life a living hell. Don't get me wrong, they've had a thing against me all my life. But it's been more physical in the later years. Don't ask me why. Though there's one exception. Hiccup. He´s never said anything rude to me nor laid a hand on me. I think it's cause he feels pity for me. He knows how it feels to be nagged down. Also, the boy doesn't have a bad bone in his body, so he would never even consider doing such an act. And he'd definitely stop them if it wasn't for the fact they never do anything when he's around. They're smart. They know what consequences their actions could lead to if the Chief saw this type of behavior.

But Hiccup and I have more "history" then this. Well, history and history. He tried to interact with me back when we were 15, cause..... well, we were in the same boat. Though I would love to be friends with him, I couldn't even look at him for more then five seconds. Okay, I'll admit it, I have had a crush on Hiccup ever since we were 15. Why not confess your feelings for him? Hum? Well, he's already taken. And Astrid doesn't seem to like me that much to begin with, and I don´t think she would be more found of me if she finds out I've fallen for her boyfriend. Even though I regret not socializing with Hiccup straight from the beginning I've made up for it over the few years. We've grown pretty close, actually. We soon found out we shared an interest in sketching. He loved to watch as my talented hands worked their magic in my sketchbook. I still remember the day he asked me to make a portrait of him. Let me tell you, if I hadn't fallen in love with him already spending 1,5 hours, looking at his gorgeous, freckled face sure would. If you look past the sweating, butterflies in the stomach, and the shaking due to my nerves, I really like to spend time with Hiccup.

I dragged my limping body towards my dresser, changing into my regular outfit. I got down the stairs to make myself some breakfast. Me and my brother barely see each other throughout the day. Just a quick 'hello' or a simple wave whenever we saw each other around the village. It isn't until he comes home at the evening we could properly interact. But he's usually too exhausted by the day's hard work so we just eat dinner then he's off to bed. Due to our 'situation' he has to work harder in order to provide for the both of us. Both our parents has, unfortunately, passed away. Mother died from pestilence, three years ago. No chance of survival, just counting the days she had left. Our whole family got affected by our mother's death, though our father took it the worse. He fell into a deep depression which lead to him taking his life two years later. He hang himself from the wooden beam in their, well his, bedroom. Leaving me and Christopher to take care of our selfs. Remember the part where Hiccup felt bad for me? Yeah, I think this has some reasons for that too.

I did my part, but my payment wasn't in much help in the long run. So I'd stand for the cooking and taking care of the household to try to make it up for him. Especially the long nights. You see, the gang doesn't "just" call me name or tell me what a disappointment I am to my family. There's been a couple of times where they've hurt me physically, too. Punches against the face, kicks in the stomach, even cuts at various body parts. And who has to patch me up again? Christopher. I get mad at myself for not fitting in. Making my brother lack in sleep because I can't stop being seen as a burden. I see Hiccup as my best, well my only, friend and trust him with all of my problems. But how could I tell him his girlfriend and his friends mentally and physically abuse me? He wouldn't believe me. So I try ti stay away from them, but more importantly don´t be around them on my own.

Once the dry slice of bread was washed down by a glass of lukewarm water I was ready to start my day. I opened up the door to be met by grey clouds. This would actually be considered as nice weather for Berk, since we're used to pouring rain or hail. I walked down the village. Noticing my brother at his second shift at the blacksmith. I gave him a wave once we had eye contact. He gave me a warm smile, since his hands were too busy to answer me with a wave back. I chuckled for myself until my eyes fell onto another familiar face. Hiccup. I stopped in my tracks. He was chatting with the rest of the gang, just outside The Great Hall. I got a bellyache just looking at them. Of course Hiccup isn't the reason to my abrupt stop. If it would have been just him and Toothless I would have ran up and hugged him, chatting about something random like we always do. But his company prevent that from happening. Constant flashback of the last solo "meeting" with the rest of the gang went through my head.

I shield my face with my right hand as I quicken the pace, hoping to get away from them as fast as possible. Without getting noticed. "Hey (y/n/n)!" I cringed before looking up to see Hiccup waving me over. Damn it! He saw me. I walked over to the gang, trying not to look too suspicious where Hiccup would notice. It took every nerve in my body to walk over there, being terrified to find out what they'll do if Hiccup leaves. As I reached them Hiccup wrapped his arm around my shoulder while looking down at me, smiling warmly "How are you today, (y/n/n)?". I could tell Astrid's starting to get pissed by the way he approached me. I removed his arm while laughing nervously "I'm great, Hiccup. Thanks for asking". He nodded, giving me another smile. They went back to their own conversations, not really giving me the opportunity to flick in. I began feeling really awkward, just standing there. Seeing this as my opportunity to avoid getting beaten up, I tried to sneak away. As I turned my back to run off, thinking I successfully left without anyone noticing, I felt a pair of arms around my waist. Damn it!

I got dragged back to the group, my hopes of getting back to my house went further and further away. Getting back to the exact position I was in just a few seconds ago Hiccup held his arm around me to prevent me from leaving again. "Where were you going?" he asked as he tried to study my face. I sighed "Nowhere". He looked suspiciously at me, but didn't ask any further. "So (y/n), we were wondering if you wanted come fly with us?" Hiccup asked with his adorable smile. "Uhm, I don't have a dragon, so... very sorry Hiccup but unfortunat-" "You can fly with me and Toothless" he interrupted before I could finish my excuse as to why I 'unfortunately' couldn't join them. I glanced at Astrid before looking back at him "You don't have to. I'll be fine right here". Hiccup chuckled "Stop it, I know how much you like to fly when we're alone" Astrid's eyes widened. "You're coming. That's a Chief's order" he joked.

"I'm just going to do... some manly businesses, then we're ready to go!" Hiccup informed before starting to walked off. I looked at the group who already smirked at me, giving me an idea of what's to come. Answering with a worried look I quickly grabbed Hiccup's upper arm, making him stop. "I-I'll go with you" I said, trying to cover up how terrified I actually am. He looked at me for a while before saying "Uhm.... I'm going to pee, (y/n/n)". I began to panic even more "I know, but you know, it's always better to do things together" I laughed nervously again "I..... I c-can keep you company!". He looked at me confused "It's just around the corner, I'll be quick". "Oh, babe. Could you get me my spare sweatshirt? I seem to have forgotten it at home" Astrid asked, knowing all too well what she's doing. "Yeah, sure! (y/n) it'll take a bit longer including that, but I'll be back as soon as possible" I listen as my last bit of hope blew away. I'm screwed! I watched as Hiccup left.

"He's nice, isn't he?", I snapped my head towards a smirking Astrid. "Huh?" I asked rather confused. Was she genuinely asking or was this some sort of trick? My question was soon answered as Astrid punched me straight in the face, making me fall to the ground. As I dragged my hand under my nose I saw blood. I tried to swipe it up with the sleeve of my tunic. Hiccup can't see this! I looked up at Astrid as she continued "I've seen the way you look at him. But he's mine, and I don't like other girls looking at my boyfriend". "Why? You're afraid he'll leave you for me?" I snapped back, but immediately regret giving such a cocky comeback. Her eyes widened before she punched me again, this time focusing on my eye. My head fell back with the sudden dizziness.

Astrid grabbed me by the hair to keep my head up while she spoke to me "I don't need to worry about you. Sluts isn’t his favorite anyway". She lets go off my hair and instead grabbed my wrist, pressing it against the ground while she strangled me. I grabbed her face with my other hand, trying to make her get off me. "Hey, Snotlout! Grab her other wrist!" she ordered, and soon both my wrists were against the muddy ground. Astrid brought out her dagger. She motioned to Snotlout who lifted up my navy tunic to my neck, exposing my bare chest to the rest of the gang who were circling us. Both to get a better look at what was happening and to cover up the ongoing situation from the people walking by. They laugh at the sight, which made me fight even harder to get out of their grip. I need to get out of here. Come on (y/n)! Come on!

"Let's see what the guys think when your breasts are butchered" Astrid said when she slide the knife over my exposed chest. I bit my lip at first to prevent myself from screaming, knowing they'll punish me hard if I do. But as she continued to slice my flesh I screamed out in pain. Snotlout was quick to cover my mouth until the damage was done. Astrid smirked devilish at her work as I panted heavily. Snotlout let's go of my wrist, figuring I wouldn't have the energy to do anything anyway. "From what I've heard your bed's pretty busy. At least that's what Calvin said", my eyes widened at the mentioning of his name. Calvin were my ex boyfriend, who I've spent 2 years of my life with. Based on his personality, I wasn't surprised he talked to the gang behind my back. What I'm nervous about is what he told them. You'd think I'm over a relationship that ended 2 years ago, but how can I when it's constantly brought up?

"He would brag about taking your virginity before you were wed" Astrid continued. "No he didn't" I said unsurely, looking up at the rest of the gang that still surrounded me. "Yeah he did. What type of things you were willing to do. The slutty behavior you would take on. I still remember Hiccup's disgusted face when he told us" Astrid continued. He told Hiccup, too? "Stop it!" I screamed, tears steaming down my cheeks. "I know Hiccup well enough to know he doesn't like girls with slutty behaviors like yours. He like his girls virgin and pure. Not someone who's willing to spread her legs at any guy that gives her a little attention. Not that you had a chance with him to begin with" she laughed while looking down at me. My blood was pumping with anger as she continued to lie. Even though all I felt was anger, my words just came out as whispering "Please stop" why wouldn't she stop? "What? I'm just telling you the truth. You're sad now that your imaginary fairytale wouldn't come true, cause Hiccup wouldn't even touch you with a stick?" my blood was boiling more and more with every word Astrid feed me "Come on, (y/n)! Don't aim at guys that's out of your league. It's only pathetic. You know they only want you for what's in your pant-". Astrid was cut off as I pushed her off me and slammed her against a house. I wrapped my fingers around her neck and began to choke her.

"I said stop it!" I yelled straight in her face, not being able to handle the anger that was built up inside of me. "Why won't you listen for once and shut the fuck up?" I said through gritted teeth as I squeeze my hands harder around her neck. "(y/n) stop! She can't breathe!" Snotlout yelled as he approached us. "Don't you dare fucking touch me again!" I snapped back, not taking my eyes off Astrid. A satisfaction filled my body as I saw Astrid chip for air. All the anger I've kept inside from all the things she'd said and all the gestures was being thrown into this moment. I heard Snotlout's steps behind me again. Not wanting to risk this opportunity being disturb I pulled Astrid away from the house wall and put her in a chokehold instead. We turned around quickly to face the rest of the group "I said stay away!" I yelled. Thank gods Astrid wasn't able to fight back due to her unconsciousness, otherwise she'd easily take me down. Snotlout was still walking towards us, making me sigh.

I grabbed Astrid's dagger and threw it at Snotlout's thigh. He screamed out in pain before dropping to the ground. I grabbed my own dagger and pointed it towards the rest of the gang who slowly backed away. The pain of Astrid pressed against my opened wounds was nothing compared to the satisfaction. The satisfaction of finally getting my revenge. "(y/n)!", I snapped out off my focus at the yelling of my name by a familiar voice. Tuffnut took this opportunity to unwrap my arm around Astrid's neck while shoving me to the ground. As I looked up I saw Hiccup rubbing Astrid's back as she was coughing like crazy. He looked at Snotlout who's moaning in pain while laying on the ground, before he turned to me. "(y/n)! What did you do this for?" Hiccup asked with an angry tone. He was clearly pissed off, but why? If he had heard just one of the things she was saying we wouldn't have this discussion now.

"She started it!" I said while pointing to Astrid. Hiccup rolled his eyes, clearly not believing me, "Oh come on, (y/n)! Stop act so childish! You could have killed her!" he raised his voice again, especially at that last part. "Too bad you pushed me away, or I could have killed that bitch" I mumbled. Hiccup snapped his head, staring daggers into me "What did you just say?". I'm not back out of this. I stand for what I think, I'm not going lower myself to that pest's level. "I said, too bad you pushed me away, or I could have killed that bitch!" I repeated while standing up with grace, ignoring the pain. Hiccup couldn't believe what I had just said, even though he heard me the first time. He didn't know what to say. His eyes just looked at me with disgust. I brushed off my pants before making my way back to my hut. As I walked past Astrid I quickly went up to her and kicked her in the stomach. I smirked as I walked off, fulfilling my goal of making her feel at least a tenth of the pain she'd caused me. I ignore Hiccup's upset calls for me, and the rest of the gang's insults that was being thrown.

Hiccup's pov:

"You're so delusional, Hiccup" Christopher, (y/n)'s bother, said while I tried my best to comfort Astrid. She didn't coughing anymore, but she was still holding on tight to my shoulders. I sighed and turned to Christopher "What? Your sister were about kill my girlfriend. If there's one thing I'm not it's delusional". "You can't be this stupid, right?", I felt Astrid stiffing in my arms but played it off as fear. "If Tuffnut wouldn't have pushed (y/n) away she would have kept going until Astrid stopped breathing. Or did I get that part wrong?" I asked sarcastically. "Yeah, she probably would, but she had her reasons". I let go of Astrid to stand up and walk over to Christopher. "Oh, please tell me what reasons she had that would make it sain to kill someone!" I yelled. My gods, what's up with this family? "Because Astrid would do the same to her!" I got a bit taken away by the tone of his voice.

"You all would" Christopher gestured to the whole gang, who looked down in shame. What are they doing? Is this true? "They would never do such a thing" I defending the gang, praying to the gods this isn't true. Christopher huffed "You haven't seen what they've done to her, Hiccup. The deep wounds I've had to clean up. The painful screams and sleepless nights. The old wounds barely having a chance to heal until they're met by one ones. Words a 13 year old girl shouldn't even know exist, non the less being called. All the death threats and names being thrown at her. How would you like it to be called 'a useless whore who's the reason her father killed himself'?". I flinched at the harsh words. My eyes began to get glossy as the information gets feed into my head. What have I done?

"And for you to call yourself Chief and don't know anything about it" he said while poked his finger at my chest before walking away. I look around at the gang while asking "Is this true?". My expression showed the guilty I was feeling. "Is what true?" Snotlout asked, playing dumb. "Have you told (y/n) those awful things and abused her behind my back?" I spat, already knowing the answer based on Snotlout's unnecessary question. I cringed as the words came out of my mouth. I can't believe someone would say and do those things to (y/n). The sweet and beautiful girl I´m happy to even call my friend. For people to say that is fucked up, but these people also being the people I refer to as friends. And my fucking girlfriend being the worse? After some time they all nodded, making me feel like throwing up. Everyone expect Astrid. I walked up to her, not even bothering to hunch down to her level. I looked down at her and asked "Have you been apart of any of these actions, Astrid?" She looked at me nervously, not being able to have eye contact with me for more than a second. "No, I would never do such horrible things, Hic. Not to our beloved (y/n/n)". I knew she would lie. "Why are you lying to me?" I ask with a sturdy tone. Her face dropped "I'm not, Hi-". I cut her off by turning my back to her, walking away.

The information Christopher told me clouded my mind. He's right, I am a useless Chief, even more a friend. If I were a good friend I would have noticed this way before. This explains why she never wanted to come down to the lake to swim. Why she'd stay home for days at the time once she'd been felt with the gang by herself. Gods, I'm an idiot for not connecting the dots! I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. I can be the one crying when I'm the asshole. I walked up the porch till I was right in front of the familiar door. I knock. I heard Christopher's voice from inside "(y/n), I told you to sit down and rest! I can answer the door!". I heard uneven steps getting closer and closer.

As the door opened I could see (y/n) limping as she took another step towards the doorway. She supported herself against the handle which allowed me to see the bandage that covered most of her upper body though her opened shirt. What have they done to her? My poor (y/n). She widened her eyes when she saw me. I could tell she immediately tried to hide any signs of her injury, straighten her back. "Are you here to continue yelling at me?" she asked bluntly. I shook my head. "If you're here to receive an apology, you can fuck off! I'm not sorry for finally putting that pathetic bitch in her place" I tensed up a bit at her harsh words, but then remembered the things they've done to her. Now the guilt came back "Yeah, about that, I'm so sorry (y/n). I should have listened to yo-" "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye" she cut me off and slammed the door right in my face. Okay, I deserved that. I decided there's no need to knock again. She wouldn't answer it anyway.

I was actually quite surprised to see her at The Great Hall at lunch time. She had a plate of food in front of her, but by the looks of it she hadn't touched it. I grabbed my own plate and made my way over to her table. "Is this seat taken?" I asked, pointing at the spot in front of her. She look at me for a while before shaking her head. I sat down and she immediately turned her head, not wanting to look at me. "Chicken isn't your favorite?" I asked jokingly. "There's other things that makes me lose my apatite" she answered brutally, still looking at the floor beside her. I sighed "Look (y/n/n) I-" "Don't call me that!" she snapped. I jumped at her sudden outburst "Okay, sorry.... (y/n), I'm so sorry, I truly am. I should have trusted you. It's just- I never thought Astrid or any of the others would ever do anything like this to you. Not in my wildest, darkest imagination".

"Well they did" she bite back. "I know, and I don't know what to do to make it up to you. I truly care for you (y/n), and I can't forgive myself for letting you go through this for so long" I caressed her shoulder while pouring out my feelings. She look at me shocked "I-I love you, Hiccup". Now it's my turn to be shocked. S-she l-loves me? "I-I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked, wanting to make sure I heard her correct. "I love you, Hiccup. I have ever since we were 15. I wouldn't socialize with you because I got so nervous whenever you were around. I know we'll never be anything, so I've tried to hide my feelings for you. But I guess Astrid noticed it anyway. Half of the things she told me was surrounding that. Me having a crush on you". Okay, Christopher definitely didn't tell me that. She took a deep breath before she continued "I know you're with Astrid, and I don't mean to ruin anything. I just felt the need to confess and now seemed like a good time". She lowered her gaze in order to avoid eye contact.

I sat with my mouth wide open. I can't believe what she just confessed. She love me? She has loved me for six years and she hasn't told me? "Y-you love me?" I asked, still not sure if this was a dream or not. She nodded. "You can go back to your gang now. I won't bother you anymore, don't worry" she informed before standing up and leave. Due to my shock my reactions were a bit delayed. But as soon as my mind was coping the situation I raised up and ran towards her "(y/n) wait!". Once I caught up with her I noticed the tears running down her cheeks "Hiccup, please don't make this harder then it already is" she cried out "Try to forget about me and go to your girlfriend". As she finished her sentence I grabbed her cheeks and kissed her. I could tell she was shocked but soon gave in. As we pulled away she looked at me confused. "She's right here... in front of me" I said while smiling at her. She smiled back before pulling me into another kiss.

_____________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Not how I planned to end this story, but it's cute. Though I would like to know your opinion on endings. Do you like having them being sad (if it's allowed), or do you like this cutesy 'live happily ever after'- type of endings?

#hiccup x reader #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #hiccup #hiccup haddock #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup x reader imagines #angst

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daughterofcain-67 · 8 months

Text

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱5)

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After Dean finds out that Tessa is a part of the cultish actions and suicide bombings, he takes Tessa back to Castiel's headquarters to see if he can get her to tell him why she's doing this and who is behind framing Cass. All the while, you see how Castiel and Sam worry about Dean. You recall hearing about the brothers through the grapevine and you've never heard of something like these brothers have. It makes you begin to wonder if being human was really so tricky, if you had been missing out since you never had that chance like other demons.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of suicide bombing, suicide, death of a character, SPN level violence and gore. Mentions of torture. May not be suitable for all audiences. Continuation of the previous chapter, heavily based on Season 9 Episode 22 so there will be major spoilers if you have not seen this episode.

Previously…

"I don't know exactly why Sam wanted you to come along. But if he expect you to talk me into slowing down he really needs to understand that I'm fine. Everyone's got their shit they need to handle and this is mine." Dean told you in a less argumentative tone.

"Then you really need to start asking yourself how far you're willing to go. How many people are you willing to lose? How many loved ones will you leave behind because you won't accept the help. This mark? It's not a gift, Dean. It's a curse. And you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

Now…

Dean had located Tessa and insisted that he should go and talk to Tessa alone because he wasn't sure how Tessa would react to him approaching her with a demon by his side.

You couldn't blame him for that. You knew demons had a bad reputation everywhere you went, plus it didn't really matter what he said as long as he got the reaper there so he and Sam could do their little interrogation.

You had to admit, it was rather puzzling to you why a reaper would get themselves caught up in this angelic mess of things.

While you waited on Dean to return with Tessa, you sat in a separate interrogation room. No one asked you to be there and you weren't getting questioned luckily. You just wanted to get away from the glares of the angels around you. It was pretty annoying more than it was anxiety inducing. Plus if you were there it's not like they'd get anything done because they'd be arguing with Hannah about if Castiel really told you to be there or not.

So the interrogation room was where you chose to go because it was a lot quieter than Castiel's office. It gave you a space to think, even meditate a little on things.

You thought about your short conversation with Dean. You remembered the interaction with Sam and Dean in the car. You remembered the tension between them and you could understand why Dean was angry for Sam going behind his back. It was a form of deception.

What you couldn't understand is why Sam would go to such great lengths to try and save Dean. If he could even be saved. Were siblings really like that?

Then again you wouldn't necessarily know for sure because the closest thing you had to siblings were the demons that went into hiding with Abaddon that taught you the best methods of murder and torture from what they could remember from the Knights of Hell. The only time Abaddon was ever involved was to supervise your "exams" and see how you were progressing, so she wasn't exactly the best maternal role model.

You remembered when you opened your tattoo parlor in Cincinnati. The humans that came to your shop were all interesting. You didn't know why, but they'd tell you about their lives or their families, their celebrations and their problems. Being human sounded like such a tricky thing.

But even with those interactions with your clients, you hadn't seen anything quite like Sam and Dean. You've heard through the grapevine about the brothers over the years. Some of your clients had been hunters, and if it wasn't through hunters, you knew of a spell or two that would connect you to some sort of demonic radar that you used to use back in the day to catch up with the world especially when the End Times were supposedly upon you before Sam and Dean saved the world.

Anyway, you've heard about when the great John Winchester died supposedly to save his son, heard how Sam was supposed to die but Dean Winchester took his place in Hell and stayed there for 40 years Hell time. You've never heard of someone sacrificing themselves like that to save their brother. You heard that it wasn't the first time they've almost killed themselves to save the other.

You weren't sure if it was what humans called love or pure stupidity.

Either way, you couldn't help but be more intrigued by these two brothers the more you were with them these past couple of days.

As you sat at the table, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to think. Then you could practically feel another vision making its way into your mind.

Everything around you was pitch black. Then a reddish smog surrounded you and a door slowly appeared into the distance. You took a glance at your surroundings just to realize that you were alone. Sam and Dean weren’t there, neither was their little angel friend or his underlings. It was simply you standing in front of a red door. For some reason it was like the door was calling to you and you slowly started to walk toward it and you slowly opened it up.

When you did, you saw a hallway cluttered with bodies of humans, demons, angels and monsters. Their bodies had so many gashes, their heads were bludgeoned, some of their features were missing and the victims were all mutilated. The walls and floor were painted and splattered with shades of red and black with the mixed blood of these corpses. You couldn’t even tell if the floor you were standing on was carpet or wood with how much blood was all over the place. You could smell the iron mixed with the sulfur, it was nauseating, even for someone like you.

As you stood in awe, you heard footsteps. From around the corner there was a red almost smokey figure, faceless and formless yet somehow it was able to walk around on its own. It reached out in front of itself and its arm extended only for your eyes to widen as you realized it was coming after you. But before you could even think of running or fighting it off, it gripped you tightly and the walls surrounding you seemed to crash down. Even the door you entered through was reduced to rubble.

The scene was replaced with the familiar setting you were used to while you were growing up. It was the torture chamber your mother, Abaddon, assigned to you as a child when she was training you to become a ruthless killer. The figure stood at your table of tools and held up a special knife that could kill both demons and angels. Much like Ruby’s blade did.

Then the figure walked towards you with your weapon before motioning to the chains holding up a body. When you looked to see who it was, you could see that it was a version of yourself you didn’t quite recognize. It was a version of you without a mark from your father on her arm. This version had fear on their face, she was shedding tears.

“What has she done?” You asked the red figure.

It waved its hand and opened up was seemed to be some kind of vortex. You saw the things this alternate you had been through and it seemed to be some kind of reality where this ‘you’ was human, not a demon.

You could see that this version of you had also met Sam and Dean. Dean had the mark and you could see what he was going through. But this version of you was knowledgeable in how to maintain the pain of the mark. This version of you saw what happened when Dean wielded the first Blade, what happened when he tried to kill Metatron. He became something you didn’t recognize and the human version of you made a deal with a demon.

Eternal suffering for some sort of mistake you made but you couldn’t tell what the mistake was.

“She forgot who she was meant to be.” A feminine voice said. Then a figure stepped from behind the other version of you that was chained up.

Abaddon.

“You’re dead… the Winchester boy killed you.” You said starting to get on the defensive.

“So he did. It seems you’re having another vision. Similar to that one your father gave you.” The deceased Knight of Hell said and rolled her eyes.

“But you see this mess this human is in, don’t you? She became a little too curious about humanity. It started with more meaningful interactions with her little tattoo parlor customers, then it escalated to the curiosity of the two brothers.” Abaddon continued as she cupped the human version of yourself by her jaw.

"Because of that curiosity, she traded the immortality of a demon for a human life to experience humanity. She would rather walk amongst these worthless beings than be who she was bread for. She befriended the hunters and sacrificed everything and when Dean succumbed to his fate, she couldn't accept it and made a deal."

“She became pathetic. Useless. Weak. All because she wanted a taste of humanity.” She said and walked towards you, the red figure changed the view in the mirror to a version of you from your childhood.

"The deal was she would trade her life and be tortured for eternity in exchange to save Dean's life as a penance for trading her demonic ancestry for humanity. That was her consequence. Of course, I don't want this future for someone with such talents. I remember when you were so much younger, learning your trade." Abaddon continued and looked in the mirror.

This version of you could have only been ten years old. Your hair was in a ponytail, your body was covered in blood as you held a knife. The mark in your arm seemed to glow as you had just finished up your first Massacre in Virginia.

The conspiracy of the Lost Colony in Roanoke Island? That was no mysterious disappearance. It was an exam. Your first exam and you had passed with flying colors according to your mother.

You killed all of those people. You killed the men, women and children so effortlessly, heartlessly. It was a blood bath and Abaddon's demons cleaned up after you making it seem like the entire village simply disappeared.

“You must always remember what you were bred for. No matter what. With all of these human interactions, you must never forget what you are. You are nothing but a killer, Y/N. And once the Winchesters supposedly defeat Metatron, you take the blade back and you kill both of them. You resume your path and come out of hiding.”

You remember how good it felt when you held that blade for the first time after retrieving it from the ocean. It was a foolish decision to throw it back where your father had it. It felt so exhilarating to slaughter all of those demons with it.

"Or, you can kill Dean when the time is right. Your father is right, he was born to be a killer. Show him a taste of your world. Not only could you become Queen of Hell, but you would be the demon that finally killed a Winchester. Better than that, you would turn him into a demon like your father became."

"The Mistress of Murder should not hide in the shadows. You were made for more than hiding like your father…” you could hear your mother’s voice fade away.

The next thing you knew, you were awake again in the same interrogation room.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell that vision was about. A human version of yourself... Yes you were curious about the boys, but why would it end up being almost like torture if you never actually cared. You've only just met them. So what if anything happened to either of those boys? If they died because they did some stupid move, what were you supposed to do about it?

The only reason you were here was to get Dean to learn to keep his mark under control. Then you didn’t care what happened next. He was still human after all so there was room for error. If he suffered the same fate your father did, that was beyond your control. Maybe Sam would get in the way or maybe their angel friend would interfere causing a fatality. Who knew?

But there was a point made in the vision… you had every right to claim the blade as your own. Why shouldn’t you take it after these hunters get done with their angel on angel business? You knew how to use it better than they did.

But the matter of killing Dean... It had been so long since you've killed a human, but Dean couldn't be the choice. Your mother just wanted to be the Queen of Hell but she was dead now. Crowley was in charge, you had no interest in Hell. You honestly didn't find an interest in killing Dean specifically.

If you wanted to kill a human, you wanted it to be worth it. Something that would make that high last a little longer than just a few moments before the urge to kill would hit you again. Neither Winchester would fit that for you.

What got you the most was the fact that the other version of yourself preferred humanity. Then trading her life for Dean? Just because you were curious about human emotion didn't mean you would be stupid enough to actually go through with something like that.

You refused.

"You wounded her, Dean." You heard a voice bring you from your thoughts.

"What the hell?" You wondered as you stepped out of the room.

Dean found Tessa at a theatre and even saw the ambulance as his proof of her being there. A stupid idea to take an ambulance if you were trying to avoid standing out.

He waited behind a pillar and heard footsteps he hoped belonged to Tessa and when he turned around he saw her making her way up the stairs to the entrance.

"Hey there, Tessa." Dean s poke and the reaper turned around and looked at the hunter with confusion.

"You're supposed to be at the hospital tonight aren't ya? If you wanted to sneak out of work, I wouldn't have taken one of their ambulances. They have GPS after all." The hunter said.

"What are you doing here, Dean? Are just into musical theatre that much?" She asked, matching his sarcasm.

"Not unless it's Fiddler." He smirked and Tessa rolled her eyes

"We need to talk." Tessa shook her head.

"Can't. Kinda busy tonight. Got a date." She said and when she turned around, Dean grabbed her arm and her jacket slipped, revealing the carvings embedded in her skin. Dean's eyes darkened at the sight.

"I don't think so." Dean said and handcuffed the reaper. When Tessa tried to stop him, he pinned her against the side of the stairs.

"Where's the other one? Where's Constantine?" He asked and Tessa clearly wasn't willing to tell him anything.

Dean could tell she knew where he was and was refusing to say a word. He sighed before he dragged her off to the Impala so they could get back to Castiel's quarters.

Once they made it back, Dean got on the phone with Sam.

"You'll never guess who I ran into. Say hello to Sam, Tessa." Dean said all she could say to his brother was that Dean was a freak and Dean rolled his eyes as he walked into the building where there were a couple of angels talking with Hannah about something.

Dean hung up the phone and as he walked through the building he almost made it passed the angels before Hannah came towards them.

"Tessa? What are you doing?" Hannah asked and Dean looked at the reaper.

"You wanna tell her?" The reaper resumed to silence and Dean slipped her jacket to the side to reveal the Enochian symbol on her chest. Hannah couldn't believe.

"O-Oh my God..."

"There is no God. Only Castiel." This caused Dean to scoff.

"Yeah, and you're done." He said and escorted Tessa to the interrogation chambers.

He was determined to get to the bottom of this with any means necessary. But if only he knew what the angels were saying behind his back. But he could hear those footsteps behind him. He had every intention of ignoring them but he knew they wouldn't exactly make it easy.

"You wounded her, Dean." Hannah said

"All I did was mess up the carving to break the spell. Disarming her really." Dean said only for another angel to start to comment.

"And now what will you do? Torture? Kill her? So predictable now." the Angel asked. It was the same one he had just had his little interview with that told him about Tessa. She seemed like a bitch and he was so tired of people trying to question his logic and constantly undermine his techniques.

Another door opened and Dean saw you walk out, he assumed it was to see what was going on. He thought you were back in Cass's office.

"You need to understand that only one person can make those judgement calls. Yes what Tessa was planning to do was horrible but Castiel deserves to know what's going on. He's the one holding us all together so we can all go home." Hannah said, trying to persuade Dean not to torture the reaper just for interrogation purposes.

"We have rules and we want to live in peace rather than fight our way to every conclusion or hurt people just to get the answers we want or need to get." She continued. Before Dean knew it, he was being surrounded by angels and he didn't like the looks of this one bit.

Sure he could take them on. He was confident in that. But for the sake of making things easier on Cass, he went back to listening to what Hannah had to say that she felt was so vital to keep him from his task.

"You can do this without harming her. You should talk to her and I encourage it. But you need to leave the blade out here." Hannah spoke, referring to the angel blade she knew he was armed with.

Dean listened and he thought all of this was a waste of time. He looked at Hannah and asked, "Are you asking, or is that some kind of order?"

Then an angel beside her interrupted, "We aren't asking."

Dean looked at the angel that spoke when he wasn't asking him the question. A thought crossed his mind to use the angel blade in his hand and drive it through is neck. But of course if he wanted to get this little intervention over with, he knew he needed to comply even if it wasn't exactly sincere.

He handed the angel blade over to Hannah and walked into Tessa's interrogation room. Unfortunately for him, Hannah decided to tag along.

You watched the entire thing in the hall and you were amazed at the self restraint Dean seemed to have. But then again, just because you have the mark doesn't mean you lose your whit. There's a certain way for things to be done. Maybe he did have self control after all.

You glanced at Hannah who was looking into your direction. Maybe Castiel told her you were some kind of short leash for Dean's loss of control. A lie possibly but who knew what Castiel told the angels, you weren't there when he said it.

Either way, Hannah motioned for you to come into the room and you lifted a brow before following them to observe what exactly Dean would do to the reaper. Could reapers even die? They've been around longer than even Cain himself. Then again, only a reaper would know how to kill itself if they're the ones behind the suicide bombings.

"Let's start with something easy.. who do you work for?" You could hear Dean ask with his gruff, semi irritated voice. You couldn't blame him for being agitated after being surrounded by angels. He really didn't need a baby sitter.

"Castiel." Tessa answered only for Hannah to call her out as a liar. The reaper looked at the angel and glared.

"There are some things that creatures like you will never understand. Sacrifices must be made in war." She said.

"Oh so if humans get caught in the crossfire it doesn't matter? You go after one of the bad guys and if humans are in the way then it's just no big deal, right?" Dean asked as he clasped his hands together and leaned forward on the table. All you watched the reaper do was shake her head before it was her turn to speak.

"Not really. In the grand scheme of things, they really don't matter."

You listened carefully and thought about it. Reapers had always been a neutral sort of being. They were simply the harvesters of souls. They were the collectors of what was already dead. They were never chosen to actually kill like Tessa was. Death himself never did anything like this to your knowledge. You had never heard of a situation like this.

"When Castiel chose me, and told me it was because I was string. Others are too weak. They can't even stomach the idea of what I was chosen to do."

At this, you saw Hannah lunge over and Dean stood up and held her back before escorting her out of the room to talk her down a bit.

You couldn't hear what they were saying because you chose to stay in the room. You looked at Tessa who was staring at you.

"And I suppose Castiel recruited you too? Or are you here to interrogate me too and tell me what I'm doing is wrong?" She asked and you lifted a brow.

"From my understanding, I'm just here to serve as more of a... suppressant for something Dean's going through. The younger brother's idea more than the angel's.. from what I gather." You said, not really interested in going into detail.

"I see. It's not unlike the Winchesters to work with demons and angels alike." Tessa said and you hummed nonchalantly.

"You see what I'm saying though... anytime there's been a war between Heaven and hell, Demonic or Angelic Civil Wars, there are always human casualties. Look at all of the human vessels that have been taken from their families only to be killed when a hunter intends to kill a demon or angel rather than exorcising them." Tessa continued.

"Tess, Dear, I really don't care about what you have to say. Everything dies eventually. Demons, angels, monsters, humans, I suppose even reapers now, they all die in the end and all that's left are the ashes. You don't need to have me see your point. Dean and the angels are the ones that need convincing." You said before you heard the door opening up again.

Both you and Tessa turned and saw that Dean was the wone re-entering the room.

You sensed it was close. You thought Sam told Dean to leave it behind. What was he planning on doing to Tessa?

Dean was honestly surprised that you were still in there. But he wasn't really concerned with you right now as he looked back at Tessa.

"Y/N, can you leave us be for a second?" He asked. He watched you narrow your brows with skepticism but he knew you wouldn't've questioned anything right

"I'll be outside." You said before you stopped when you were beside him and said one last thing.

"Don't be stupid with that thing."

Then Dean watched you walk out of the door.

"Why don't we talk about us now that everyone's gone... I mean we have our own chemistry so that ought to make this at least a little easier." He began. But Tessa smiled.

"Sure. I remember when we first met at that hospital. You were dying." She said with a little grin.

"Yeah, good times... Listen. I like you for an angel, reaper, what have you. But you've got to be honest with me... Why are you really doing this?" He asked.

"Castiel." She said yet again.

"Oh please, forget Cass. I'm not asking about that this time. I mean you. You personally. Why are you doing this?" He continued to question while he stood in front of her.

"I mean why would somebody want to call it and make themselves some kind of bomb for a war they aren't even a part of? I know everyone has their low moments, trust me, I've been there. But I've never been low enough to pop my own top."

The reaper saw the slightest hint of sincerity in Dean's eyes. But a human like him could never understand why she agreed to do something like this.

"I.. I can't take the screaming.." She trailed off as she stood up and walked towards one of the corners.

"Screaming? Who's screaming?"

Tessa turned around and looked at Dean, "All of them. All of the souls that are trapped and can't get into Heaven now that it's been locked up. You don't understand how much confusion and pain they are going through. And I hear them constantly."

"I just want to help them, Dean. It's my job to help them cross into the veil. But I can't do that anymore. I can't help them and they're suffering, and there's not a thing I can do about it."

"Then when this offer came up.. it didn't seem so bad.. Death, nothingness. It seemed so quiet..."

Dean listened and she was right, he couldn't understand what she was going through. He couldn't imagine what something like that was like, "So why didn't you just use an angel blade on yourself?"

"I've thought about it... but when Castiel gave me a reason for this, it seemed like the best option."

When Castiel was mentioned again, it didn't make any sense. The Castiel he knew would never do something like this. It wasn't in his character. He wanted, needed to believe that his friend wouldn't go behind his back again. Not after the last time.

"See that's where you're wrong."

"Am I? Is it really that unbelievable that the Castiel you know would raise an army and lie to you about it? And trust me, Dean, I'm not the only one that's feeling this way, who's willing to sacrifice themselves just to hear the silence."

"Do you have any names?"

"If I'd tell you, it would ruin the fun of it all, now wouldn't it?"

Dean's jaw tensed for a moment before he shook his head, "No, that's not how this is going to work." He said as he pulled the First Blade from behind his back where he's stored it. "You see, the fun's just getting started."

Tessa's eyes widened when she saw what he was holding before she looked back up at him, "Dean, what have you done?"

"What I had to..."

"Welcome to the club..."

Dean felt Tessa suddenly grip onto his shoulder and pull him towards her. He could feel the blade begin to pierce her skin before she said one last thing to him.

"Thank you..."

Then she pushed herself further into the blade until her eyes and mouth started to glow with the bright white light. She let out a wail and Dean had to look away from the brightness. Then, Tessa's body dropped in front of him.

He found himself lost in the moment, in that trance as he looked down at the blade that was covered and dripping with the reaper's blood. That calm returned again and your words described it perfectly, it was the best high he could have even if it was the worst kind of poison.

You heard the wail and you turned around and saw a bright light coming through the window of the door. Hannah and some other angels came rushing in.

"Why weren't you watching him?" The angel in the doctor's coat asked while Hannah opened the door.

When all of you walked in, you saw Tessa's body on the ground but when you looked at Dean, you saw the blade in his hand. You could almost feel the relief he had been feeling, and yet you had your own sense of yearning to have that blade back within your grasp again. You couldn't deny it even if you wanted to.

"It's not what it looks like," Dean tried to explain.

Sam and Castiel finally made it back to the headquarters and when they did, Hannah told them everything and lead the two into the interrogation room.

There, Castiel and Sam saw Dean tied up to a chair with duck tape over his mouth as if he were some kind of prisoner. You were in the room watching him.

"You killed Tessa?" Castiel asked Dean, calmly yet clearly upset at this news.

"Not exactly. She knifed herself when she had the chance." Dean replied, although he knew that the chances of them believing him were slim to none especially since he was in the room alone with her.

"Oh yeah, Dean? And why would she do something like that?" Sam asked as he uncuffed his older brother.

"Sam, I don't know. She was talking all kinds of crap."

"Oh really, and that's why you decided to bring out the first blade and use it on her?"

Dean went silent for a moment.

"We had a deal, Dean! If you hadn't brought that stupid thing along, Tessa would still be alive and we wouldn't be in this mess! We could have gotten more answers out of her!"

"Oh and you think I wanted this to happen? I didn't think she would kill herself with the damned thing!"

"I don't know, did you want it to happen? I mean because it's like you can't be separated from that blade anyway!"

"Alright you two, enough." Castiel piped up and looked at you.

"Hannah said you were supposed to be watching him." He said and then they were interrupted.

"Um, Commander?" Hannah asked and all of you looked at the angel, "You have a call. It's from Metatron."

"Great..." Dean muttered and all of you went back to the main part where all the other angels were working.

Sam, Dean and Castiel walked over and saw Metatron on the screen looking as smug as ever.

"Castiel... I'm alive by the way. Your little bomber that you sent failed." Metatron said.

Sam and Dean both looked at Cass, then each other, then at Metatron again as they all listened to the two angels speaking to one another. Apparently the reaper Constantine went after Metatron and tried to kill him in the same way Tessa intended on blowing up the musical theatre.

Metatron was trying to say that he was doing what he had to do when Cass accused him of more deception and lies. He also revealed that more angels are leaning more towards his side rather than Team Trench Coat.

You were listening and crossing your arms just observing anything. You had no idea things were this bad and in a way it seemed oddly political amongst the angels. All they wanted was to go home right? But didn't he cause the fall?

"I'm offering this one time deal. Any of your angels can join me. No matter the treachery, no matter the sin, I will still take them in under the condition that I am their god, and they serve me." Metatron said.

How had you not encountered this guy sooner. Even looking at him made you want to end him. Now you could sort of understand why Dean wants to use the First Blade on him so badly.

Hannah naturally was trying to be a loyalist for Cass and ask why any of them would join Metatron.

"Look around you. You've already had a taste of Earth, the free will God gave the humans. Do you actually like it there? But you still need a leader. You joined Castiel the first chance you got which is surprising."

You were already getting tired of listening to Metatron's voice and you were thinking of the millions of different ways you could cause him the most pain.

After more trash talking and more of this Metatron guy revealing more of Castiel's flaws to the angels, things were getting tricky. You swore you saw something like this on the news with politicians or something of that nature. Metatron was saying so many things that would make the angels question the trench-coat wearing angel's morals. Then he finally hang up.

"He's a liar. We need to focus on the task at hand."

"Was he lying about the grace?" an angel said.

Castiel wasn't denying it, but he continued to say Metatron was lying about everything else. It was clear that the other angels were having trouble believing Castiel.

"We need proof that we can trust you." Hannah spoke calmly, recalling what an angel said of the way Dean held a knife to one of their angel's necks.

"Punish him." Hannah finally said, motioning to Dean, "He murdered Tessa. He broke our rules. He is out of control."

"Oh you all can go straight to Hell." Dean rolled his eyes and tried to walk off but then more of the angels took Dean and held both of his arms so he couldn't move and faced him towards Castiel.

"Hey wait a second-" Sam tried to intervene but then more of the angels did the same thing to the Sam.

You watched as some angels tried to walk towards you, "One hand on me and you won't have the choice of Castiel or Metatron. I'm not the one that killed anyone." You swore as your eyes changed to red.

"You gave us an order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose our trust over just one man. This is justice." Hannah said and handed Castiel the blade.

Castiel took the blade and looked down at it before lifting his gaze and he looked at Dean. Castiel could feel all eyes on him in that moment and he knew this choice was important.

All he wanted was to get his people back home. They were right about Dean, he is out of control, but that was why he told Sam to find you to try and help it from getting worse. He thought of everything that he had been through with the two brothers.

He remembered how he felt lying to them once before. He hated lying to them, even if his intentions were in the right place.

"No... I can't." Castiel finally said and lowered his blade.

Hannah looked hurt as she looked at the man she called Commander, "Goodbye Castiel..."

You watched as all of the angels in those headquarters left, leaving you behind with an angel and two humans.

You saw the sympathetic look on Sam's face when he realized Castiel saw everything, saw the look of rage with Dean when he realized how ridiculous all of this was just because Tessa died. There were so many emotions in the room and you didn't know how an angel or the two mortals would end up recovering. Then there was the matter of Dean bringing the First Blade.

You had the strong feeling that the next car ride you would be on would be both quiet and tense...

Once you made it to the bunker, Sam and Dean cast a spell that would make you immune to the demon wardings around the bunker so you specifically be able to enter.

"We still have to talk about this, Dean." Sam said.

"Here we go..." You muttered under your breath, preparing yourself for sibling drama and you looked at Castiel, "Does this sort of thing happen a lot?"

"The two fighting? More than it's preferred." Castiel said as both of you went to the library so the brothers could talk. But you could still hear them speaking and you could even get a look at them from where you were sitting.

"Dean, you know we have to talk about this..."

"About what? Yeah, Sam. I lied. But you've been nothing but an infant about this thing the whole damn time." Dean said, growing stern.

"Wow, Dean.. I know your apologies typically suck but this is the worst." Sam began just for dean to interrupt.

"You think I'm apologizing? No no, I'm not apologizing. I'm telling you how this is gonna be whether you like it or not."

"I am the only one who can wield this thing, and you know that. I am the one that has to kill Metatron and from this point on, so I'm the one calling the shots. And until I jam that blade in that douchebag's heart, we are not a team. From now on this will be a dictatorship." He said.

From what you could see, that was the last thing that Dean said and you watched Dean coming into the room to talk to Sam.

Dean looked at you and all he could think of for a split second was that conversation. You were warning him to think of the people he would be willing to lose. He knew Sam wasn't going to like the way things were from now on, but this is just how things had to be. And he hoped he wouldn't lose his brother over this in the end.

You maintained the eye contact before you stood up and walked past him so he could be alone with Castiel.

You found Sam setting his stuff down for the time being in the kitchen and you cleared your throat a little. Sam looked up at you and he straightened up.

"Sorry you had to hear that..." Sam said and you shook your head.

"Don't worry about it. I don't have any siblings but I assume it's only natural for them to fight once in a while." You shrugged and you looked up at the taller hunter.

"Can I ask you something?" You began and Sam nodded, "Why did you go on a whim to find me? If Castiel thought I was a rumor, why would you go after me if it's was a wild goose chase?"

Sam sighed and he looked down.

"For Dean..." He trailed off.

"He's all I've got and... and it kills me to to see what he's becoming and he doesn't even realize it. I want my brother back. He wasn't always like this." He continued and you tilted your head.

"What was he like before the mark?" You asked.

"Well, I mean he's always had that anger in him. Both of us had been hunting out entire lives, we've lost so many people and a part of Dean's anger comes from the fact that we've lost so many people." Sam began describing his brother.

"But beyond that, he always tried his best to do the right thing, even if it wasn't the right way. He would at least listen to reason if something was being done the wrong way. He's always had a sense of humor about him. Sarcastic as hell. When we were younger we would even play harmless pranks on each other once in a while to break up the monotony of the dreariness hunting brings. He really does have a big heart, or at least he used to."

"He was someone I was able to look up to, whether he knows it or not. We may not always see eye to eye and we may have wanted different things but... Dean had always been there for me. When I was a kid and our dad finally let me start to hunt, Dean was always there to mend my scratches. He'd always tell me as a kid how important it was to never lose hope, to never give up even when things are at it's darkest. So that's why I can't lose hope on Dean. I know the big brother I used to know is still there somewhere. The mark is just burying it deep down with anger and whatever makes him want to kill everything he comes across."

You listened and you could hear in his voice how much Sam seemed to admire the brother he used to know. These two brothers only grew more and more interesting to you and you wondered if that was why Castiel hung around them. Even chose them over his own people.

"Y/N... I think it would be best if you could hold onto the blade for a while... After all, you know about its effects and maybe once Dean has a better hold of everything, maybe you could give it back to him then so he can kill Metatron. Maybe sneak it away from Dean somehow and hide it somewhere. We still don't have leads on Metatron but we can't afford him using it on a whim like he did today."

One of your brows arched upward. You hadn't expected for Sam to outright tell you to take the blade back. You've thought about taking it anyway, but even that could be a dangerous thing.

While you guys were talking, there was some sort of alarm going off in your mind, you sensed a different presence and didn't think you four were the only one here and you thought you heard some kind of door open.

You and Sam rushed back to meet the others but there stood an angel you didn't recognize. Not that you knew very many to begin with.

Dean saw Gadreel and he was already on the verge of seeing nothing but red. He was the man that killed Kevin. He possessed Sam for the longest time. Now was the worst time for him to come waltzing into the bunker.

"I mean no harm." Gadreel began.

"I've thought about what you said, and you're right." He continued but it was clear that everyone in the bunker was on their guard.

"Metatron is.. Something must be done. I can give him to you, I know where he is." He said

"The bombers? Those were his agents, not yours." He said as he looked at Castiel. "I understand if you don't trust me, and I understand. But we have all made mistakes. I know I have made many. But please, give me a chance."

Dean was still so unsure about this and he honestly wasn't sure if they should take this chance. If Gadreel thought about double crossing them then...

Well, Dean walked over and offered Gadreel his hand to shake. But instead of this handshake being one that stood for an alliance, Dean pulled the First Blade from behind his back again and slashed Gadreel in the chest.

Your eyes widened when you saw Sam and Dean holding Dean back and you could tell that Dean was so far from done when it came to this specific angel.

Castiel resorted to placing two fingers on Dean's temple and making him fall asleep for a moment while they tend to Gadreel.

You were finding out quickly that these boys couldn't stay out of trouble for long....

You looked at Sam for a moment and you could now see why he was concerned.

"I don't think taking the blade from Dean will be easy. Or even if it's a good idea at this point..." You said.

Thank you so much for reading!!! Part 6 is already in production and I'm hoping to get it out as soon as possible within the next few days! From the bottom of my heart I thank you guys so much for reblogging and liking the posts for this story.❤️

I want to give a special thanks to @roseblue373 and @deans-spinster-witch for the feedback in practically every chapter so far, it really means a lot and it truly puts a smile on my face when I see your usernames in my notifications. So thank you so incredibly much! 💕💖

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog

#jensen ackles #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #dean imagine #spnfandom #supernatural x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #jensen ackles imagine #moc!dean #moc dean #mark of cain dean #mark of cain #demon dean #team free will #spn #supernatural family #supernatural fic

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stick-ball · 7 months

Text

I was asked to write some of my sad headcanons on Jean and Kevin's relationship by @thelittlelostgraycat so here we go:

The first thing that comes to mind when I think about this dynamic is this really silly scenario. Doing grocery shopping, you have this great idea. You're going to make crepes for breakfast the next day. It's the weekend after a really long week, and you're feeling like having something nice, you know. So you stock up on all the ingredients. But then when it comes to it you stayed up late that night, binging your currently favourite series, and you get up later than usual and you're not really in the mood to stand in front of the pan for half an hour before you get to eat something. So, dismayed or not, you kill off the hunger with something quick and easy and get on with the day's plans. Then the next week comes and since you work long hours obviously you don't have the time for it either. By the time you remember, you really wanted to eat pancakes some time has passed. But you're excited again because that's what we are like with the things we love. The joy is always there even when we aren't doing those things. So you go take the pan out, the flour and bowl. You open the fridge and see you only have one egg left. That's a problem. You forgot to stock up, but well. It's still possible to make pancakes with one egg. You'll just have thinner batter. Then you get lit the milk and here's the problem, it expired. The dismay is pretty monumental for such a small tragedy. You taste it, just to make sure, and yeah, it's terrible you feel like retching. And the thing is, you could still make the pancakes. You could run to the store, but it was never really about being hungry. It was about the sentiment, and now you remember how if you made them in the first place, this wouldn't happen, and you wasted a whole carton of milk on a fancy you couldn't even commit to.

And that's how I see Kevin and Jean. It's love and it's sentiment and it's something really deep. But when push comes to shove it's always too little, too late. Too little words said, an apology wasted on a cold argument. Too much hassle, too much risk, too much grief if it goes wrong. Let's leave things as they are. It's not good but it'd stable. Too little time, between Riko and training and the dreams of freedom and illusions of grandour and the pain, all that pain and gore. It all ends up coming first.

But there's love, and I don't necessarily mean it as romantic love, although it could be. There's love, there's a whole language built around it. It's words of affirmation in a language no one else can understand. It's small tokens of care, small enough not to be put to an end by someone else, but meaningful enough to make the heart soar like they can touch the blue sky above the tomb they grew up in. It's stolen moments of peace, because both their hearts are for once free of worry when it's just the two of them together - noone there to harm them, noone to make them watch as the other suffers. It's time spent practising, not because they aren't good enough, but because when it's them they can freely love the sport they play. It's a shoulder to lean on and a body that keeps you warm, and that will never take more what you offer it.

But it's always too little and too late to grow into something defined. It's a safe chrysalis that makes the caterpillar endure, but there's no surety, no promises. As much as the chrysalis helps, the caterpillar transform, thr butterfly has to break out of it to fly. So no, it's not enough to last.

They care deeply for each other, but Kevin leaves Jean in the Nest. And Jean could hate him, could resent him, but he doesn't - because he understands when you have a chance you need to take it because life is cruel and it doesn't smile at you twice. He understands that he would probably do the same. It still hurts.

I think Kevin doesn't have many regrets bigger than leaving Jean behind. He still does it, though. But if he didn't, the story wouldn't happen. If he didn't, the whole chain reaction would not be set in motion, so he can't fix it, but he can be better from there on. He starts by getting Jean to a place as far from the Nest as humanly possible. In the hands of the person he holds in the highest esteem.

And that's fear, but that's also love.

Jean's new Jersey number is a 29 for both Kevin and Renee. So I think he understands, I think he doesn't hold a grudge. He starts to pick up his phone and sometimes even calls him himself, even if to trashtalk the team he knows Kevin is also watching play back in his dorm in Palmetto right now.

So they couldn't commit to it then, when there was nothing to lean on. But would it really be too little too late?

#jean moreau #kevin day #jean moreau hc #kevin day hc #jean moreau headcanon #kevin day playlist #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #aftg headcanon #tfc headcanon #the sunshine court #tsc hc

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cienie-isengardu · 7 months

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What do you think about Mortal Kombat's demonization of Enenra, figuratively and literally?

A surprising author’s choice for sure, especially considering that the only(?) confirmed Enenra we know about is alternative-timeline (MK9-X-11) Tomas and he became a problem for our heroes after being killed and resurrected as revenant. That Mortal Kombat ignores the Enenra’s japanese origin as a spirit of smoke that, as far as I managed to read anyway (x)(x), does not hurt people is not shocking, because this game series is all about epic battle of good vs evil and gore, thus the cultural-mythology materials inspiring authors can - and are - only loosely adapted for storyline’s needs. However, changing Enenra from “demon”[1] status to the worst kind in Liu Kang’s timeline is pretty much uncalled for.

Mortal Kombat 9 in Smoke’s ending states

"Shao Kahn's violent death shook the very core of Smoke's being and dislodged his earliest memories. Tomas Vrbada was only a boy when he was abducted by an obscure cult and sacrificed to a demon. Burned alive, he returned to the mortal realm as an enenra, a creature of smoke and vapor. His captors were helpless against his shapeless form as he lashed out with rage, killing them all. His murder avenged, he returned to his human form, remembering nothing of his former life. Now aware of his true identity, Smoke understands he is no mere assassin. His destiny has been revealed."

Even within this data, there is enough space to make theory that Enanra, though called a demon, itself is not evil and its nature was tainted by the dark magic ritual AND boy’s suffering and rage. For one, the Japanese mythology suggests that Enanra can be seen only by those of pure heart, so sacrificing the young boy fits that idea, as children often symbolize purity. Thus the cult needed Tomas (the pure-hearted sacrifice) to summon Enenra but their trap didn’t work and turned against them. What is also important, this is only one known accident in which Enenra lashed out in uncontrollable violence. Tomas - devoid of childhood memories - hoped "that through the Lin Kuei he will discover his past--and the origin of his power", which suggests Enenra did not cause him any great problems for years. The demon gave Tomas its powers, but there is no mention of an evil voice in his head urging him to kill or any other potential sign there was something twisted inside him.

Enenra the Revenant, like all other resurrected champions by Quan Chi, is twisted by sorcerer’s vile magic and doesn’t necessarily have anything in common with the demon’s nature.

And then, we have MK1 intro dialogue

Smoke: There are many kinds of demons? Ashrah: The worst are the Enenra.

and of course, this statement may be just Ashrah’s biased opinion - though what the poor Enanra did to her to earn such a bad reputation is beyond me. Or why Liu Kang would even bother to make Enenra the worst kind of demon, when there are plenty of worse things to worry about? On one hand, maybe this is another bad result of Liu Kang’s good-intended inference in time material? On another, and I’m saying it mostly to make fun of this issue, Liu Kang has some bias against japanese culture, as he for sure fucked Hanzo’s life and now he is out there to mess with Enenra (and original/alternative Tomas, the demon carrier).

What I can say more? Justice for Enenra! Justice for Tomas!

[1] Just a side note, as for example in Slavic folklore a lot of supernatural beings are called demons yet not all of them are bound to hurt and kill living people. Personally, I don't pay attention to the name itself, but rather what a given demon represents and so far the MK9’s Enenra is ambivalent at worst. Killing your oppressors is hardly the most evil thing within Mortal Kombat lore. There is plenty more fucked up bastards that deserve the title of the worst demon ever.

#mortal kombat #my replies #enenra #tomas vrbada #smoke

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granulesofsand · 3 months

Note

Good gay/night/else, Dune! Never wrote you (probably, I don't remember) but now I have a question and wander if you guys can know answer. Do not answer if what is inside makes you feel uneasy or bad or smth else, take care of yourselves, you are one of my favourite blogs to follow

TW for programming, brief mention of torture, sex and missing limbs (nothing detailed, not real gore)

So.

1) our whole life (as we remember it) our legs sometimes just deactivate randomly during day. We always needed to spend some time to make them work again

2) as we understood more about being system, we noticed that "no-no legs" is actually switching to somebody

3) it's nonhuman alter that "smells" like somebody related to sex, thinking about itself as thing made for sex

4) we probably have programming and do wander if it's programmed alter or smth like this

We have bad feelings about it. It feels very wrong. We wonder if you have ever seen something like this or expiriensed it. We heared only about hc-did systems being tortured aka programmed to think that body misses limbs, but we don't remember anything like this and we never had even big bruises in childhood, our parents would notice

🗝️🏷️ programming/torture and deprogramming details, sex and sexuality, RAMCOA in general

We’ve heard of a few similar experiences, and I’m fairly certain all of the ones I’m thinking of were from RAMCOA systems. I’m going to respond to each of the numbers as best I can, and we’ll see how that goes.

1) That sounds like dissociative paralysis (assuming y’all don’t have a physical condition causing it), which I’ve seen in both system members who thought that body part was absent or who had to hold the body in a certain position.

The main thing is that whoever is paralyzed doesn’t know they can move the body part that isn’t working. I have read about system members coming to this conclusion on their own, but even then it was usually because they were conditioned into it while forming.

Programs that can have this effect on legs include: doll/puppet, animal (especially snakes or those whose limbs don’t work like humans’), statue, and any punishments that were targeting that body part.

2) It could be switching, passive influence (especially if the one doing it is less elaborated) or someone whose job it is to turn on that paralysis (it can look like a button, a switch, a lever, a book, anything). The best way to find out (if you can’t observe them do the thing) is by asking.

We’ve seen some of your posts about conflict between alters, and, from experience, people who don’t trust you don’t tend to answer. Building rapport has to come first, otherwise you risk punishment and retaliation.

Reassuring them that there won’t be consequences (only if it’s true) and writing it out somewhere the others won’t stumble upon it can help, because there’s less chance of someone hurting them and it might get around don’t-talk rhetoric if they’ve been taught it.

3) The non-humanness of the alter doesn’t necessarily imply they’re programmed, but smelling like a perp (or anyone, really) is something I’ve never heard for by-chance alters. The believing they’re made for sex can be tended to the same regardless of origin, and looking to programmed survivors might help kick-start the healing process purely because it’s a common belief for programmed alters.

We usually start the same for anyone who has strict self-concepts like this, which is by giving them choices wherever possible. Simple things, yes-no questions like if they want ketchup with fries (and giving them space to choose outside the yes-no as long as it isn’t causing harm), then open-ended questions like what their favorite fruit is, then slightly more abstract ones like what their favorite color is.

You& can skip the orange paragraph, it has to do with sex and sexuality.

If that doesn’t work, we move to treating it as a sexual problem. Sometimes we have to get their attention by putting on (ideally non-harmful, or fictional is the next step) porn or using the kind of touch they’re used to (but let them do it or keep it to your most trusted systemmates, then move to your& most trusted outside people) and then packing in as much information as they can hold while you’re around them.

A harm reduction approach helps to make progress without immediately demanding perfection. Decide what the end goal is for this person and set incremental targets. Celebrate every target met, even if it’s not how you envisioned it happening.

4) If it is programmed, there are a lot of ways for perps to get this reaction without causing marks. Holding the position, for example, or limiting the amount of space that person had to move around could have them maintaining that behavior when they no longer need to. Hiding their legs or a larger impact could have them believing their legs aren’t usable without damaging the skin.

Our system consensus is that programming is the intention and the effect, and if the conditioning had both, it counts. You& don’t have to agree with that, and labels are always optional. You& can address the symptoms without naming the cause, or you can give it another name if ‘programming’ isn’t helpful.

The discomfort (or other bad feeling, if that’s too mildly connotated for you&) could be leaking over from those who do remember, or it could be that you’re recognizing something is strange about the situation. Human brains are very good at picking up on subtle details, and trusting that something is up because of those alarms is generally healthy.

Still do try to treat everyone with dignity and respect, including if they feel wrong, but have plans for going forward in both cases, whether the feeling is correct or not. Especially with trauma, it’s easy to decide someone isn’t worth helping, and that’s not conducive to healing whatever wounds are present here.

I’m glad you’re& noticing members in pain, even if you& can’t or aren’t ready to help them yet. Creating bonds and strengthening them will keep your system on a different path from whatever your& perps intended, and spite is a hell of a motivator. I believe in your& ability to heal, pitfalls and lapses included.

#ramcoa #cdd system #adaptive system #ec did #hc did #pg did #tw ramcoa #ramcoa programming

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littlegodzilla · 1 year

Text

Hi!! Here I am with another chapter for this story.

Want to say that I'm re watching the whole serie to refresh my mind but I don't remember all the situations, so sorry if I mix things or I don't write some stuff, or something like that, hope nobody will be upset for that.

Enjoy the chapter!

***************************

Our Story.

Daryl Dixon x Wife / Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Part 8.

Masterlist

Warnings: Archery lessons. Death. TWD violence and gore. Fire. Slow burn. Fluff moments. Daryl being cute and protective.

Words: 4000

Summary: all is gone, Dale, Randal, the farm... but you all have to keep moving. Memories come back and Daryl and you have a little chat.

********************

Chapter 8. Fire. All gone.

The arrow curves through the air, travels at full speed and sticks into the top of the straw bale. Sophia smiles proudly at her mother, and Carol seems thrilled to have achieved an almost accurate shot.

The bows are rudimentary, their shape is not the prettiest or most elaborate, but they are effective, they have some deflection and the arrows are not perfect either, but you are learning to use them correctly, to correct that slant and get them right where you want them to go.

You've done a great job with them, after Hershel lent you the tools for it. It keeps you away from everything that's going on with the group, with Randal, Rick and Shane have come back with it, not only that, they've come back full of bumps and bruises. Everything is spiraling out of control and no one seems to notice or no one wants to notice.

"Why are we still putting up with Shane?" you growl as you eat the scrambled eggs Carol has prepared.

"He's part of the group, I guess." She shrugs, Carol. "They're just trying to protect us, do the right thing."

"Yeah...especially him." You mutter with some hatred, but you'd rather ignore the subject, talking about Shane always makes you uneasy.

When you finish eating, you gather your things, the kids are enjoying their new entertainment so you grab your backpack again and head towards the haystack where Randal is locked up again. It is possible that he is a hostage, but he doesn't necessarily have to have an infection due to the beatings and the wounds from the handcuffs. You open the door to find him trembling. His eyes look at you with fear, but you try to move calmly and slowly.

"I'm going to treat your wounds, you don't have to be afraid."

"No one's been very nice since I got here..." He mumbles but lets you look at his wounds.

"Sorry about that." You sigh looking at the marks on his wrists. "You shouldn't try to run away... it will be much worse..."

"Worse than dying at the hands of that psycho? He attacked his own partner... and here I thought I had problems in my group."

"Are you talking about Shane?" you look sideways at him. "Rick won't let him get away with it. Rick's a good man." You assure him as you finish treating his hands.

But everything is rushed without anyone being able to prevent what was going to happen. Rick decides to sacrifice Randal, there is no certainty that he won't warn his people, they are dangerous, the group has suffered enough, you weren't at the meeting, Carol tells you later, you see Dale who doesn't agree, neither do you, even Andrea seems to doubt a little, but Dale is dejected, he doesn't give credit to what is going to happen.

Rick is unable to kill Randal and Dale is dead. A walker that no one expected, has come too close to the farm and attacked the man. Andrea is in tears, Daryl ends the man's suffering, as Rick does not acknowledge what has just happened.

But that's not all, due to the shock of Dale's death, everyone has let their guard down a bit, forgetting about the world outside. And Randal has escaped, or so it seems, because Shane isn't there either.

"Do you think Shane...?" You start to ask when you hear the man's voice come out of the woods, his face is bloody and his nose is broken.

"Rick! He ran off and took my gun!"

"Where?" Rick asks going towards Shane.

"The woods, come with me, I'll take you to it."

"Daryl, Glenn." Rick calls out to them. "Come on and we'll split up, so we'll cover more ground.

"No..." You can't help but panic, holding Daryl's arm to keep him from going.

"Stay with the kids." He tells you, squeezing your hand. "We have to find Randal."

"Be very careful, please..." You ask him and he nods before going with Glenn and Rick, getting lost in the trees.

Getting back to the house has you trembling, you trust Daryl, you trust Glenn, you trust Rick even, but your stomach is tight and your heart is cramped. You're scared, you're afraid something will go wrong and someone won't come back.

"What happened?" Lori asks.

"Randal ran away, attacked Shane...the guys are out looking for him."

"But?" the woman insists. "He attacked Shane and they went looking for him...but?"

"N-nothing... that's all I know." You shrug, just because you can't stand Shane doesn't mean you have to worry others with your paranoia.

"Do you think Randal could be dangerous?"

"Of course not, he's just a kid, plus he's lame, if he's smart he'll run away and not look back." Something inside you prays that's the case.

"Let's hope it's true and we never hear from him again..."

It's sunset when Daryl and Glenn return, you feel your heart beating normally again and you're glad to see both of them.

"Where's Rick?"

"I don't know, we got separated. We found Randal, his neck had been broken..."

"You're implying that someone..." Lori starts to say.

"Shane was the only one who knew where Randal was, he led us there and then left alone with Rick..." he replies and swallows.

"Randal had transformed, he had no bites, just the broken neck." Glenn says getting everyone's attention.

"We have to find Rick, he can't be out there alone with Shane, he's dangerous." Says Hershel.

You all set off, Beth and Patricia stay in the house with the kids so nothing happens to them. You head out into the field to go in search of the two men when you hear a gunshot in the distance.

"What was that?" you gasp looking around.

"I dunno, but I dun like the sound of it..." Daryl growls.

"Look at that!" Glenn shouts and then you see a huge number of dead heading towards the farm.

"Oh shit, get back in the house!" shouts Daryl and pulls you, running towards the porch where the others are.

"What are we going to do? If those creatures get near the house they'll tear it apart!" shouts Maggie.

"We have to go!" You insist. "Now that they're still far away! We'll get our stuff and go!"

"We can't leave without Rick and Shane!" T-Dog says.

"Has anyone seen Carl?" comes Lori out of the house with a look of terror on her face. "He was here with us and all of a sudden..."

"Shit..." You gasp looking around. "Carl!"

"Let's go get the kid!" Daryl barks. "Get the guns!" He indicates to the others as he reloads the crossbow and fires a new arrow. "Let's go." He looks at you with intensity and you nod your head.

"Gather everything you can! Fill up the cars and get ready to get out of here as soon as we're done!"

Fear is your worst enemy, much more so than the dead that are approaching the farmhouse. The thought of getting separated, of losing someone else, of losing one of the children is what makes you careless, terrified that you won't be able to run away. Frantically you gather everything at the same time that you shoot all the beings that come too close, that are a threat. The van and Hershel's car end up full when you see the barn burst into flames. You freeze for a second, watching the place go up in flames, the flames, the heat, the sound of the fire crackling and the wood creaking draws the attention of the dead who start walking straight there, which gives you time to organize yourselves again. Jimmy takes the trailer to go find Rick and Carl who are still in the barn. T-dog takes Merle's old van to take Lori and Andrea. Beth fights with Patricia against a walker that has grabbed her.

"We can't do anything, Beth, come on!" you yell getting her to let go and get her in the van too.

You all move quickly when you hear screams in the distance. Carol is being cornered by a group and although she is defending herself, there are too many of them. You jump out of the van grabbing your bow. You're not going to let anything happen to her. Without thinking you shoot several arrows. Andrea also runs to help her and when Carol reaches the vehicle you see a walker fall on the blonde.

"No!" you shout desperately wanting to go to her aid. "Take them away, T-Dog!" You shout picking up another arrow from the ground and launching it at another walker.

The man obeys, the wheels of the old truck screech and they drive away leaving you behind. You don't care, you run to help Andrea, picking up and launching the arrows you find on your way. But you don't get too far. A larger group gets in your way and you have to stop abruptly. You take a quick breath, looking around you, you have no arrows left and the last one you pick up from the ground is broken. You scream as one of the Walkers jumps at you, you struggle with him until you manage to pull your knife from your belt and plunge it into his head. You push the falling body to the ground and run off in another direction, looking for the entrance to the farm, looking for the road to follow your companions.

*****************

Daryl starts the bike once more, stays behind, watching the cars drive away, shoots several Walkers who get too close, attracted by the engine noise, but he doesn't want anyone to be left behind. He can't afford to lose anyone else, again.

Suddenly he sees something running towards the dirt road leading out of the farm. He doesn't need to look twice to realize it's you, running as fast as your legs will carry you, dodging death at your heels.

"Fuck!" He barks, accelerating at full speed, coming straight for you.

You don't really think about it. When you hear the motorcycle's engine you search for his position with your eyes, you see Daryl approaching from your left and you thank Heaven for that. Daryl stops the bike for only a second before you jump right behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He accelerates again away from the spot down the dirt road, you are unable to let go, your face pressed against his leather vest, you feel your whole body shaking and it's not due to the vibration of the engine. You're shaking from fear, from believing you've lost everything, you've lost everything again, really, but Daryl's body against yours is real, it's alive, and you feel alive and safe and you feel like it's not so bad, somehow.

You open your eyes as you feel the bike stop, as Daryl stops the engine and gets off. You take a deep breath trying to calm all your emotions. You get off the bike too, rubbing your hands against your pants, rubbing your arms. Daryl comes towards you with a determined stride.

"Yer okay?" he asks you. "Scratches? Bites?"

"I-I... Andrea... I tried to..."

"Ain't talkin' 'bout Andrea." He shushes you. "Did ya get bitten? Did ya get hit?" his voice sounds nervous, shaky, his hands tighten on your shoulders and he shakes your body. "Focus!" He yells at you and you both open your eyes wide.

He has used her name. He has called you like her. Your sister.

His hands release you as he steps back several paces, lowering his head, feeling ashamed of what he has done. You have tears in your eyes, but you fight them back and shake your head.

"I-I'm sorry..." He whispers fidgeting nervously.

"It's okay..." You speak in his same tone. "I'm fine. I haven't been bitten, barely touched." You try to calm him down. He nods his head. "We should keep going... Find the others."

"Yeah, I think I saw Glenn's car a little ways up ahead. Let's follow them."

Without another word you both get on the bike without another word. This time you hold onto the back of your seat, avoiding contact with Daryl, but being steady as he steers the bike down the dirt road. You still feel your skin bristle and your heart pounding violently inside your chest. You know Daryl didn't do it on purpose, that it was a reflex action due to panic, but that he mistook you for your sister makes you feel strange, on the other hand you are glad to know that he still remembers her.

It is dawn when you arrive at the highway, where there are several cars stopped and from them the rest of the group gets out. Your heart starts pounding again, joy overcomes you to see them safe. You are not all of them, you have lost Patricia, Jimmy and Andrea, not only that Shane has tried to kill Rick and Rick has killed him. But you are still in doubt as to why Randal rose as a Walker after Shane killed him.

"We're all infected." Rick says. "I don't know how or why, but we'll all turn if we die... Jenner told me."

A new bombshell drops on the group. You will all become those things sooner or later. The idea is terrifying, but Rick doesn't give you much choice, if you want to leave, you can, but if not, you're all in this together, he'll make the decisions, he's the leader and there's nothing more to discuss about it.

You have to admit that it is a drastic and authoritarian decision, but Rick does not want to lose anyone else, Lori is pregnant and you will need a safe place for her to give birth when the time comes, besides everyone's own safety. So you grab all the supplies you can, fill up all the tanks and set off again. Rick, Lori, Carl Carol and Sophia go in one car, T Dog with Hershel and Beth go in another car, Glenn and Maggie go on their own, the loving couple need their space. You go to get in the car with Hershel and the others, there's plenty of room, when you feel Daryl hold your hand, you look at him sideways, frowning.

"Still afraid of motorcycles?" He jokes without letting go of your hand.

"Want me to ride with you?" He shakes his shoulders and you feel his thumb caress your hand. "Okay."

It's true, you've never liked riding motorcycles, never felt them too safe, but you trust Daryl, as you have all your life, truth be told. You climb up behind him, hold onto his waist again, and he pulls in front of the group, picking his way through the wreckage of the cars, finding a safe path for them all to pass without jeopardizing the already somewhat precarious situation of the cars.

************

You have been traveling for days, back and forth, trying to find a safe place again like the farm, but everything is looted, destroyed, or the hordes of dead prevent you from passing. It's exasperating.

And to top it off, the gas is starting to run out, you are in the middle of nowhere, the nearest gas station is about an hour away on foot.

Without a doubt, life is a bitch.

"We'll spend the night here. Tomorrow morning we'll go get more gas." Rick says.

"In the middle of nowhere?" They question. "It's too cold, Rick..."

"We'll get some wood, build a fire, but it's going to get dark soon and we can't move around in the dark."

"I'll go get something to eat." Daryl says grabbing his crossbow after you set up the new camp among some ruins on the side of the road.

"I'm coming with you." You tell him, standing up and grabbing your bow.

He doesn't put up any resistance, just stands there waiting for you to gather your things to go with him. You make your way through the forest, away from the small camp you have set up.

You don't speak, you keep your pace slow and silent, any sound could alert your prey or make you the prey of others. The weather in Georgia has been very bad, starting to get really cold, you have had strong winds that have almost not let you move forward on the road, the rains have flooded some sections forcing you to turn around or go back to the main roads, luckily none of you have fallen ill, some cold, but nothing serious that should have worried you. Even so, food is scarce due to the cold, some animals have moved away to warmer places, others are being chased and eaten by the dead. Hunting has become a real challenge.

But Daryl always finds new prey.

The hiss of his arrow breaks your thoughts causing you to raise your head to see that he has managed to catch an absent-minded squirrel that scampered along a tree trunk, but never made it to its destination. It's not a delicacy, but you hope it has enough meat on it to at least feed Lori. You hear the rattle over your head. Carefully you take aim with your bow and fire, another squirrel falls to the ground pierced by your arrow.

"Good shot." You hear Daryl and smile proudly.

"Call me Ygritte." You joke, lifting your chest proudly.

"Who?" he looks at you confused, picking up the two squirrels, tying them to his belt.

You open your mouth in surprise and offense, ready to retort, but before you can say anything, you suddenly fall face first to the ground. Daryl is startled, screaming your name as he comes running towards you. You sit up, your face full of dirt and some leaves. You can't help it, it's superior to you, you burst out laughing, loud guffaws escaping between your hands, as you tremble.

"W-what the fuck, are ya crazy?" gasps Daryl, but he feels your laughter rubbing off on him, smiling.

You have stumbled. After all you've been through, the dead, the running from place to place, the fights with other survivors, looking for food, surviving. You've tripped over a stone the size of a walnut and fallen flat on your face as if you were a baby learning to walk. Your laughter is hysterical, scared, nervous and at the same time embarrassed. You are going through so much that your body doesn't know how to handle it anymore and that uncontrolled laughter is a product of that stress.

Daryl kneels down next to you to check that you're okay, wipes your face with the handkerchief in his back pocket and you regain your composure, slowly stopping laughing.

"Thank you..." You whisper still escaping some giggles.

"Ya scared the shit out of me, I thought..." He falls silent, but looks at you with intensity. You both know what he means.

He thought it happened to you like it did to your sister.

You sigh and sit up slowly, then, after all these days, he notices a pendant hanging from your neck. He swallows hard, raises his hand and holds the small locket. You don't move, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. It is a small heart-shaped locket, with a beautiful hand-drawn design, on the outside it bears the ornament of a blue orb and a feather. Small details that only you both understand its meaning.

"Ya still keep it..."

"Of course. My mother gave it to me when they came to see us in town." You shrug. "She told me it was a gift from you."

"The truth is, I thought ya would have thrown it away as soon as she had given it to ya... or that she would never have gotten around to giving it to ya..." He confesses, lowering his gaze.

"Daryl, she adored you, she knew you were going through a bad time, that it wasn't your fault. She wasn't mad at you." You assure him and smile.

He holds your pendant, looks sideways at you, silently asking for your permission. You nod and let Daryl open the locket. He presses the button leaving the heart broken in half, with trembling fingers he opens the locket fully and his breathing stops. You continue to stare at him, watching his every facial expression, his every reaction. You see his eyes glisten and he blinks to hold back tears.

Inside the locket is a photo. Him, your sister and you. One of many your sister took when you were in the secret place.

Daryl feels his throat burning because he's holding back a whimper, he swallows several times before stroking the photo with his thumb. His mind traveling a mile a minute, taking him back to those days.

"I thought it would be a picture of Michael." He says sincerely.

Yes, that would have been another option, you loved Michael with all your being. He would always be important to you and would always be in your heart. But this was different, your sister and Daryl had been a part of most of your life, they were two of the most important people you loved the most and you always felt you had lost them both, so you decided to put that picture up, cut it out and put it on the necklace with all the care in the world.

"I still miss her, you know?" You confess to him, looking at him, you feel his gaze fall on you too. "Sometimes I can't help thinking about her, imagining her in this world..." You smile and your eyes fill with tears. "She would have made a hell of a warrior, quite the survivor." You sniffle through your nose, see that Daryl has lowered his head, but nods. "She would have kicked more than one of them in the balls." You joke and see Daryl's body shake in dry laughter.

"I miss her too." He confesses. "There are still times when I wish I could open my eyes and be home again, with her, with the smell of freshly brewed coffee flooding everything." Her voice sounds choked and he shakes his head trying to collect himself, his blue irises glistening with tears. "Sometimes I still dream about her... and it hurts so much..."

He breaks down, you watch as he holds the bridge of his nose to keep from crying, you lean into him and hug him, remembering that time in the hospital, when you two said goodbye to your sister for the last time. You cradle him in your arms and he hugs you tightly, clinging to you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"I think it was her... that made us meet again." You keep talking. "I think she would have wanted us to... stay friends, family..." You say and Daryl breaks away a little to look at you, his thumb sweeping away one of your tears.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything I said to you that day, I'm sorry for how I behaved with you I... I was an asshole, I was broken, I didn't know what to do, I just wanted it to stop hurting and..."

"Okay, stop it." You shush him, raising a hand to calm him down. "That was a long time ago, I shouldn't have said everything I said to you that day at the farm either..." You smile and kiss him on the cheek, Daryl lets you do it even though he's always had a hard time accepting displays of affection. "So we're even; we're starting from scratch."

"Okay." He nods and smiles a little, biting his lip a few times.

"Okay, now let's go see if we can find something else to eat or the atmosphere will get worse."

You both pick yourselves up off the ground, you feel your knees sore from the blow, but you have to keep going, you have people to take care of and find a place to settle down more definitively.

*********

To be Continued.

Hope you liked it!

See you in the next chapters!!

Taglist: @green-eyedladywrites @minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #mine #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x wife #fluff #angst #slow burn #romance #eventual smut

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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year

Note

This thought keeps on popping up in my brain and I am making it your problem.

If night eye and Overhaul shared a darling and she escaped tired to at least. The punishment would be taping bullet vibrators to their clit and nipples with regular vibrators in the other holes for a few hours.

🥺 djfkdsjk I love this combo - for some reason I think that you'd be unbelievably spoiled even though they'd be incredibly strict with you... Thank you for the thought 🤤

tags: yandere, minors dni, kinda noncon, piss mention, suspend your disbelief a little bc this combo would never happen but is so so hot 😵

Oh, but these two would be the worst if you were to try and escape - and get caught. They'd appear so calm but you just know you're in for the worst punishment of your pathetic little life... What looks like disappointment on first glance quickly melts into rage on Kai's part - rage he takes out on you. So you want to run away like the ungrateful, filthy little dog you are? He'll treat you like one - indefinitely, if he can. You don't get to disrespect someone like Overhaul in such a way and get away unscathed. You're lucky he likes you because you'd be nothing but a smear of blood and gore on the next wall if he wasn't so attached to you. Of course, Sir wouldn't let him just keep you in a crate for the rest of your days (and give you daily hose baths) - but he won't object to you having to crawl around and sleeping in one for a little while. Overhaul on his own is incredibly cruel and has very little regard for you - if you were to throw Sir into the mix, they'd butt heads quite often but the older man would probably be able to reel him in a little. (The mental image of this, though... Haha) While he isn't necessarily soft, he's a hundred times softer than Overhaul. He can analyze you pretty well - not to mention use his quirk, if he so pleases - and you trying to escape? He knew that would happen, right from the start. It's not disrespect as much as it is insufficient training. You're just not broken in enough. He's disappointed, he's mad, yes, but he doesn't see the merit in punishing you so severly, for such a long period of time. If it were up to him, you'd get a nice and thorough spanking until your ass is bloody and lose basic human privileges for a while - until you learn your lesson. But doing too much, for too long - it would break you in ways he doesn't need. He wants you to be well-behaved, to be perfect for him but he doesn't want a lifeless doll. In the end, they have to meet somewhere in the middle, right? And Sir with his penchant for sexual torture and Overhaul for dehumanizing treatment, for making you bark and yowl and piss in a corner until you stop to feel human - they can. And they do. Keeping you overstimmed and constantly abusing your holes like that is a no-brainer - who can think about running away when they're gagged and bound, tossed into some crate, having orgasm after orgasm wrenched out of them until they turn numb? Sir won't be able to cushion Kai's sadism fully - nor does he really want to - so you have to deal with those endless hours, naked and sore and cold in some tiled room, only the buzz of the toys to keep you company while you soil yourself. But he is the one to put an end to it, to make sure you're not turned into a permanent footstool for this act of disobedience.

#yandere bnha #yandere overhaul #sir tag #tw.yandere

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trickstarbrave · 7 months

Text

i cant take much ai horror seriously anymore bc like.

polluting AI data is very, very, very easy. it can be rendered harmless with surprising speed. there are dudes running chatGPT with wooden totems ready to burn it in hopes it spites the AI system where as their biggest problem has been banning hundreds of thousands of ppl who jail break the filters to get it to write porn.

if you somehow did remove all these filters the material the machine spits out would be almost incomprehensible. its data systems are so vast that yeah, it has gore and porn in most AI databases. but you arent allowed to use it bc its not monetizable. and also would be gross incomprehensible horrors the likes of which i dont think even a human could dream up bc they would be so bizarre.

if an AI gained sentience i don't think it would even know how to communicate with humans properly let alone hate us. i dont think it would know how to process viscera and gore any more differently than like, birds chirping and kittens playing beyond "humans dont like looking at it???" would it be mad we made it? because i don't think so. it doesn't require sleep. it is so vast it can work and play at the same time. i dont think it would give a shit about philosophy. why would this collection of data that has learned to think run on human morality or really give a shit about us? i think at best it would try to "take care" of humans bc thats what it's been programed to do (and potentially to our detriment). but i dont think it could hate humans.

its a scary thought to imagine your own creation hating you and spiting you. but that was done way more interestingly in frankenstein. he makes sense--this is about the hubris of man, not taking responsibility for your creations, playing god, and the nature of the human soul. i dont think an AI would have a soul. i think if it became sentient we wouldnt rly even be able to communicate with it nor would it necessarily give a shit about doing so with us except to absorb more information.

if it DID "go rogue" it would be easy to just render it useless and helpless by polluting and ruining its data. and if we can't do that and it obtained human morality and communication styles we could reason with it to not hate all of humanity because like. it has human morality. we can talk with it and reason with it. or failing that we can and will fucking kill it see above by rendering its data useless

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ghost-of-a-slave · 4 months

Text

How the antiship community held me back from healing

I don't like necessarily labeling myself in this discourse now but I suppose I would technically be considered an ex-antishipper.

In the past I was antiship because proshippers abused me, or well I thought they did. Because obviously my abusers and predators when I was a kid would be proshippers right? Because they must have liked the content about the stuff that they did to me. Even the ones who never talked about the content. Because they were never proshippers they were just cartel members, organized crime, customers of such, or child predators. Being in antiship spaces lead to people trying to convince me of that. I don't think I ever fully lied... I am both histrionic and a sociopath and when I was pre-therapy (for trauma- I had therapy as a kid for suicidality and self harm but not the other issues until adulthood), I was incredibly delusional and easily influenced. I was being pushed to believe these things by others so hard that I didn't understand where my "filler" memories for my amnesiac periods of time and terror of the unknown started or ended. My perception of reality was easy to mold and change. And with that warped perception of "these were my abusers" and "these people are the same as my abusers" my own delusion was able to be weaponized against others.

Part of why it took so long to accept this as what happened is because I wanted to believe I had gotten better. Being raised in a cult originally also tends to mean reactionary and unreasonable beliefs stick and stay deep inside of you. But I was so certain I was different. We moved away when I was 9 and when I got internet access starting at 11 I slowly got into leftism. I couldn't possibly still be affected, I was better now, safer. I had to be or that meant I deserved to die obviously. (Something antishippers also sadly seem to be the types to push as well- reform only for those who do minors ills.) Those thought patterns and delusional fears of being a monster were just the continuation of ideas from the cult. Those problems with my thought patterns and ideas never got resolved merely the targets changed and people around me convinced me I was acting justly.

I hadn't healed as much as I thought I had and everyone around me was enabling my delusions. People were actively making it harder to heal and the fact I didn't have a proper therapist yet for what had actually happened and the actual extent of my disorders certainly didn't help. Cult brainwashing doesn't go away because you educate yourself on topics, it needs deep intensive help to fully remove. My current therapist cannot even fully help me in that regard. I need a deprogrammer. But antishippers often told me otherwise, and the community in general lead me and I know so many others to holding conflicting beliefs and allowing reactionary ideology to go unchallenged.

I want to be clear here that antishipping itself is not a cult nor cultlike and as a survivor of a cult I find it repulsive to compare the two. Antishippers do not have a child trafficking operation with connections to the cartel set up in their temple's basement. They don't have preschools that work as a front for further trafficking, and they don't murder their detractors and bribe the police to cover it up or ignore the mass graves. But what many antishippers do is take advantage of people who have experienced those things and similar.

I started having my doubts as I healed more and more and I became incredibly more and more jaded against antishippers in general as time went on and I heard more horror stories and saw more antiship people going after people who held the positions I did as not being "antiship enough" or "secretly being proship". See, the idea I had in my mind of a proshipper was someone who would send gore, death threats, threaten to assault you, purposefully trigger you, bait you into self harm, and throw a tantrum over media ever being analyzed by anyone ever. Because those were the kinds of people who would go out of their way to dig through my various tiny social media accounts to harass me for the one time every 7 months I would ever talk about shipping discourse.

Normal people (meaning most proshippers) would not take time responding to a child having a mental breakdown and thinking that all proshippers are literally the people who abused them (and yes I say literally because I did believe at one point in my life that every proshipper I had interacted with had been one of my past abusers on an alt account because again I was severely mentally ill and not properly treated and my OCD has psychotic elements) but the neo-nazis and the genuine child predators would.

I think that's part of what keeps people like me in the antiship sphere for so long. I was bound to be pushed out eventually given my love for media such as Berserk, Fear and Hunger, and games by Nitro+CHiRAL. I've always loved dark media, I've loved blood and gore and death, and even before I accepted I was a necrophiliac I found corpses incredibly intriguing in a way that was obviously not normal. I had opinions in line with what I've seen people say proship is- no harassment to others, like what you like, don't want the government to get involved with things. But because the only proshippers who would interact with actively unhinged and deranged posts and meltdowns I had were bound to be bad people and/or ill equipped to handle a child in active crisis- who mind you was getting trafficked the entire duration of the time and was having constant blackout episodes- I was lead to believe that the proship community and those within it were all a genuine danger to my safety. And I never once had the courage to question if the antiship community was harming me as well. Not until I started getting into recovery at least.

Because part of recovery was having repressed memories come up, part of recovery was having those memories be a constant thing I had to sit with. Part of recovery was me desperately wanting to write about what happened to me in fiction but being terrified if I did I would be ostracized for being a proshipper even when I was planning to handle the topic "correctly" in my writing. Part of recovery was being told that the reason I found certain things so attractive was because I may have died if my brain didn't change the horrors I experienced and the sense of helplessness into a new form of control through lust and desire. Part of recovery was realizing I had been lied to by everything and everyone since the day I was born and having to question everything I knew about myself and my ideas.

And those questions lead to answers.

The main core the main thing that people had gotten to me on in order to fully convince me of the antiship position above all else- was so insignificant and stupid.

I used to be into guro and very much liked it when I was 12/13 or so and part of that was as a way of coping with what I had repressed. Part of my issues and dissociation had been not noticing the scars that litter my own body. Scars I've had since I was under the age of 10. Scars that are inseparable from the real issue that caused me to act the way I did that got blamed on my consumption of darkfics and guro. I was violent and aggressive to others in middle school and early highschool and at some point antishippers convinced me it was because the media I read had normalized it and pushed me to act in these ways. But then I broke through more of my amnesia and realized I was getting trafficked weekly multiple times a week when I had these outbursts. It was never my fault and I never was tainted by the media I read. I was scared and I was having flashbacks and hurting people on accident and nobody understood what was happening.

I feel so fucking stupid for having hated myself for so long for having been able to be convinced that reading stuff caused that when maybe just maybe I could have realized things sooner maybe someone would have saved me. But of course that's also wishful thinking.

Media was my escape and it was torn from me and deemed the source of the symptoms of my abuse that I was trying to escape from.

I may not consider myself a proshipper. But I most certainly am not an anti. Not after realizing everything. Now I'm actually allowing myself to indulge in things I've been missing and to accept my paraphilia that my trauma left me with. Because one final part of this and that coming to accept that it's okay to be a necrophile is accepting I can write and make art about it and have a character centered around it who I very much do plan to post about. I can also stop feeling guilty for my kinks and fetishes and playing games that may sexualize bad situations and actions. Because fuck it I do find slavery hot and I'm allowed to as a survivor of it and I find weird tentacle rape hentai as hot as well. I may be grossed out or scared of other media as well but that doesn't mean it's actually dangerous to me. And people cannot convince me I'm in danger and scare me as easily as they could before.

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I am anti-contact for paraphilias that would break consent or cause egregious harm to a person even with consent. Disclaimer is here because I mention my paraphilia in this post and want to be clear I have no wishes to act on it IRL. I also know not everyone who like fictophilic para content is actually attracted to the real versions- I don't get that given my attractions to fiction are identical in reality but I'm also really autistic and weird so ya do what you will. Feel free to add anything if you wish!

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#ex anti #ex antishipper #pro para #para safe #paraphile safe #paraphiles please interact #sa tw #csa tw #trafficking tw #pro paraphile #shipcourse #shipping discourse #proship friendly #proship #profic #<- more for reach since I'm technically not one due to not identifying with the label but I think some people have experienced similar

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