#ignore the fact also that evil x is in shadow the whole time so you can’t see any of his features DTHJDGGHKCGHN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neo-shitty · 3 years

Text

all the muggle things. — c.s

description. in which you and san spent the rest of your days after hogwarts getting the muggle experience.

pairings. slytherin!choi san x gender-neutral (wizard) reader (yes, this fic is house friendly)

genre. harry potter/hogwarts!au, fluff

warnings. mentions of injury.

word count. 1.6k

writer’s notes. i don’t know why i never thought of writing a harry potter-inspired au before! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for ateez. i hope this didn’t turn out so bad!

inspired by option #1 (roommates au) + prompt #36 from this list (given by @kathyrncapp835)+ prompt #46 from @ficscafe‘s dialogue prompt event (given by @meaningfulmess). prompt lines are bolded.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ TERMINOLOGY GUIDE :: for the muggles, explained and simplified by yours truly

Muggle - someone who isn’t able to use magic / non-wizard

Lumos - spell that makes the tip of a wizard’s wand light up

Quidditch - a game for wizards that involves flying on brooms and shooting balls through hoops, basically basketball but more complex because there are three hoops and someone’s trying to catch an ‘i-am-speed’ ball that dictates the fate of the game in the end

Sectumsempra - a spell that lacerates the opponent

Wizarding War - the war between Voldemort’s side and Harry’s

Dark Mark - Voldermort’s mark

Nox - counter spell to Lumos that switches the wand’s light off

You tried your best to peer your eyes open when you heard the front door slam shut. You groaned, infuriated at how such simple tasks like breathing and opening your eyes required extra effort whenever you were sick. But getting sick was merely a consequence of your own actions, so you really didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself.

You managed to open one eye, fighting back the heavy eyelid that threatened to shut and you searched the room for other movements besides your own.

“It’s 2AM, go back to sleep,” a voice said. Soon, it’s owner emerged from the shadows of the doorway.

Dressed in his all-black work uniform was San. His whole figure blended into the background too well that it almost seemed like he’d apparated back to your place. But with the faint sound of his footfalls, you concluded that he used the muggle way in.

You turned your head. You considered turning your whole body but everything felt sore and heavy. Plus, you were content with the way the comforter was wrapped around you—which was rare, even on better days. You watched San pass by the living room before heading to the kitchen. Though you couldn’t see him from the living room couch, you could see the shadow casted on the floorboards by the kitchen light he switched on. It danced as he moved around, probably to get a late night snack before heading to bed. You could hear him uttering hushed incantations followed by the faint clattering of kitchen metals.

“I’m glad you didn’t burn the house down while I was gone,” he said from the kitchen.

A smile crept up to your lips at his statement. You opened your mouth to utter a small thank you but you could only manage a whisper. You weren’t even sure if he even heard it from that far.

Moments later, he reappeared by the kitchen doorway. “But you were cutting it a bit too close though,” he continued, clutching a frying pan in his right hand.

The pan—originally gray—was now blackened from the mishap earlier. You had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking your own dinner, only waking up to the smell of burnt meat. The scent had been that thick that it managed to seep through your clogged nostrils. It was that bad. You ended up ordering take out instead. You forgot that you didn’t clean up the evidence.

A croaky laugh escaped your lips as you recalled the accident. San only shook his head, disappearing back into the kitchen to put the pan back to the sink. When he came back, he had two cups in hand. He walked over to set both down on their respective coasters on the glass center table of your living room. When he reached over to turn the lights on you stopped him.

“Don’t turn the lights on,” you said, your voice barely audible but he hears it, stopping before the lamp fully on. “They’re too bright. It’ll give me another headache.”

You see his silhouette nod. You could hear him flipping his coat around, shuffling to find something. You didn’t know what he was searching for exactly and you opted to ask him. But you soon find out what it was when you hear him whisper.

“Lumos.”

Where San stood, an orb of light began to glow. You soon realized that the light came from the tip of a stick. He was holding the fir wand in his hand, controlling its brightness until it was just right. Soon, it illuminated the room with a faint light—bright enough for you to see outlines of the room and the furniture scattered but not bright enough to make your eyes water like the lamps did.

He walked over to where you were before leaving his hand outstretched. “Sit up to drink your leaf water,” he said, earning a chuckle from you.

“Leaf water,” you repeated in a hoarse voice before taking his hand in yours, clutching it as you helped yourself up. You crossed your legs, tucking each foot beneath the opposite leg in order to give room on the couch for San to sit.

He handed you your cup of tea before he sat adjacent to you with his own cup in one hand and his wand in the other. Your eyes lingered on the wooden stick he gripped in his hand and on the fingers he had wrapped around it. All his rings were silver, representing the complementing color of his house, Slytherin. Or that was what you remembered of him back when you were still studying at Hogwarts.

You recalled when you used to watch him play Quidditch. He always kissed his rings first before putting on his gloves. He was deemed one of the more valuable players next to their seeker and you were just another student from another house. It wasn’t until your last school year at Hogwarts when you first interacted. The first time you both went beyond the occasional glances you shared whenever you were both in the same class.

Though your first time meeting wasn’t the best setting for the start of something new.

You were tending to one injury after another, working with the school nurse to cater every student who ran to the infirmary for aid or additional support in the form of potions. San had walked in alone and upon catching sight of his green sigil, your first instinct was to cast a spell to disarm him. But he didn’t have his wand raised, nor did he show any indications that he was about to attack. Your guard was up; he was still a Slytherin and fighting for the opposing side.

But he was still a student of the school with a bleeding arm. The rip on his upper sleeve revealed enough of his wound for your body to move on its own without much guidance. You led him to the nearest vacant bed, letting him standby until you got everything you needed from the cabinets.

In the time you were treating the wound, you learned that it took him half the war and a Sectumsempra to the arm (which was originally aimed at his chest; thankfully he was able to dodge it—barely) to realize that he was fighting for the wrong side of the Wizarding War. He was glad he was going to sit out the rest of it and vowed to—and you quote—“Never do stupid shit again.”.

The Dark Mark was still tattooed on his arm, a permanent reminder of decisions that did more harm than good both to him and to the people around him. The tattoo faded over time as the population of evil wizards gradually decreased.

Your brain was hot-wired to never trust a Slytherin. Or at least, it used to be.

Much to your surprise, San did keep his words that night at the infirmary. He spent his years after Hogwarts atoning for all the damage he’d caused, dedicating nearly all his hours into hunting the last of the witches and wizards who still practiced the Dark Arts.

San shifted beside you, leaning against the back of the couch before turning to look at you. He set his mug back down to its coaster before he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“I’m feeling a bit better, don’t worry. I think I’ll be fine by morning.”

“I still don’t get why you let yourself be sick when you can just—” he flicked his wand, “—it away.”

You set your own mug down after taking a sip, only noticing then that he pulled out the matching Hogwarts house coasters. His furrowed expression softened when you held his hand, peeling it off your forehead before sandwiching it between your cold ones.

“I’m trying to experience muggle living,” you answered.

Slytherins normally weren’t the type who liked involving themselves with muggle things, more so with the muggle way of living. But San wasn’t always like other Slytherins. Cheesy, you thought. But it was a fact.

You held his stare when his eyes landed on yours. You knew his mind was brewing some sort of egoistic line or anything short yet clever to say. But you were faster.

“You did well today,” you told him, drawing random shapes and symbols on the back of his palm.

Even after hearing it everyday for the past few years, San’s heart still warmed upon hearing the words leave your lips.

You said it the first time at the infirmary. At first, you were unsure if you were saying it to yourself as he heard you utter it after you patched him up. Later that day, you reassured him that it was meant for him. San, at the time, wasn’t too keen on accepting it. Nothing about what he did that day was worth the praise. But he soon realized you were referring to his decision to right his mistakes instead of staying ignorant.

You haven’t stopped saying it since then. The phrase became more of a part of your routine over time but it still held the same value as the first time you ever said it. You still smiled softly after saying it and you still looked at him fondly like you were genuinely proud of it. San was trained to easily catch whenever people lied—be it in the form of speaking or in acting. But he never found any trace of ingenuity whenever it came to you.

Somehow, that was enough to convince him that he could still make up for mistakes made in the past. It wasn’t too late yet.

You catch the moment the corner of his lips curved up into a smile. One sly finger up, you were ready to—once again—poke the dimple on the side of his mouth.

He hated that. But if he were to be honest, he could never really hate anything you did. One ‘Nox’ and a flick of his wand later, the light on the tip of his wand disappeared—plunging the both of you into complete darkness before your finger could even touch his skin.

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath, drawing your hand back and crossing them over your chest.

You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you could tell the smirk from his tone, “Of course you do.”

#san scenarios #san fluff #san blurbs #ficscafe dpe #ficscafe #san #kwritersworldnet #kpopscape #san x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san imagines #ok g what else do i tag #toff.writes

175 notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 4 years

Note

ok but if you do a fred weasleyx plus size!slytherin!reader, i would love you foreverr. and like, if it could be a soft enemies to lovers (something like she "heard" him calling her fat or whatever) and she now is a baddy... you know what, i just described myself here lol but thank you! and congrats!

Sorry [F.W.]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Plus size!Slytherin!reader

Summary: Fred and you used to be best friends until he broke your heart.

Warning: cursing; body insecurities

A/N: I loved this request so so much! The fact that it’s a plus-size reader that is not in Hufflepuff is the best part for me, because, besides the fact that it’s already hard to find plus size reader to hp fanfics, they are always Hufflepuff. So hope you guys like it! (my gif!)

Last chance to send a request! || Harry Potter Masterlist

Usually, Fred would avoid all the female acts happening around him, but today, he couldn’t just pass by. He was coming from Herbology when he heard the familiar voice from a girl Fred rather much ignore and he was doing just that when he heard a second voice follow.

“Give it back, y/L/N,” said the voice he recognized from Alicia Spinnet.

“Oh, come on, Alicia; just let me finish, okay?” Fred could visualize the smirk coming from y/L/N’s lips. “...‘dare I say it was one of the best dates I’ve gone to this year. Hogwarts men used to be better’. Oh, poor Alicia, huh? No boy enough fancying?”

“That’s enough, y/L/N. Give it here,” Alicia tried again, unsuccessful.

“Can’t stop now, Alicia, just so close to ending... Let me see, where was I? Oh, ‘maybe I should give Fred a second chance’. Such a sweetie, aren’t you, Alicia?” the mean girl’s voice failed slightly towards the end of the reading, but she managed to recompose.

That was enough for Fred to hear.

He turned around, getting back to the corridor that headed to Gryffindor’s entrance.

Just as he pictured in his mind, y/N y/L/N and her gang had cornered Alicia Spinnet, who could only watch while the girls read Alicia’s diary — one of y/N’s goons held the poor Gryffindor’s wand.

“Stop it, y/L/N. Give her wand and her diary back to Alicia, okay?” Fred ordered, making himself seen and heard.

The Slytherin girl’s eyes went from the diary in hands to the ginger boy involuntarily, and you struggled to hold the smirk.

“What makes you think I’ll obey you, Weasley?” replied y/N, working very hard to make Fred’s last name sound ridiculous in your accent.

“Just do it, y/L/N, I don’t have time for your childish acts.”

Fred was rolling his eyes when your laugh stopped him. She used to have a beautiful laugh, Fred thought to himself, remembering a time before Hogwarts. Well, it’s not only her laughs that have gone to waste...

“Fred Weasley, the king of stupid pranks, calling me a child? Really?” this time, all your goons followed laughing. “Anyway, here goes, Alicia,” you tossed Alicia her diary with no consideration, what so ever. “I’ve read everything. Keep me updated, will you?” you chuckled.

“My wand,” Alicia reminded, stepping towards the Slytherin next to you, who held her wand. The taller girl exchanged looks with y/N, who just shrugged in response, so the goon ended up giving Alicia her wand back.

Fred held Alicia back by her arm, trying not to grab it too hard. Alicia stopped and looked up, blushing right away. Fred decided it was best not to mention he had heard the diary reading — mainly because it was about their date last Saturday — and he just asked if she was okay. Alicia nodded and walked away.

“When are you gonna stop?” Fred asked y/N once Alicia was gone, and y/N’s two goons had stepped away, enough for them not to hear Fred.

“Fred, take care of yourself, okay? Let me be me,” you said, sighing angrily and avoiding his eyes.

The ginger boy watched as you walked away with heavy steps as if every step away from Fred required you to fight a battle with yourself.

“I would,” he answered, in a whisper, feeling defeated. “But that’s not you.”

***

Fred Weasley was accustomed to your little fights all over the castle, picking, generally, Gryffindor girls and especially the ones most people would consider “the prettiest”.

Not many people overlooked your acts — they always thought you were like this because life was probably hard at a chubby girl, principally one from the high society. Your two best friends, or how Fred liked to call them, your goons, knew all about how your mom was a monster with you because of your weight.

Fred used to know everything about you and your mom in a not so distant past.

You lived near the Weasleys, and, being just nine months younger than the twins made you three grow up close. They were your best friends until they had to leave and go to Hogwarts.

You waited patiently for your time to go to the school and finally be with the twins all the time again, but they completely ignored you once in Hogwarts.

You tried your hard to be around, but they pretended they couldn’t hear you calling in the corridors. They got up from the tables and left when they saw you approaching. And then, one day, probably tired of your stupids attempts, Fred shouted at you in front of the whole Gryffindor table:

“Leave me alone, fatty!”

Those words echoed in your mind for days and days. Sometimes, even now, barely six years later, you still could hear Fred calling you fatty. And it hurt extra hard because it was your best friend, and it was Fred, the one you secretly fancied since 10.

You never tried approaching Fred — or George, for that matter — ever again. You started over in Slytherin, looking for new friends. You had to wait for your second-year when Sabrina and Jennifer got to Hogwarts, and they accepted being your friend right away.

They never bothered with your weight, and they hexed everybody that ever dared to say something about it.

Sometimes, you could see the old Fred and George in Sabrina and Jennifer. Sure, if they were shorter, female and blond.

Just being a Slytherin and hexing the ones who spoke ill of you and your friends didn’t make you the bitter girl you became — it was, again, Fred’s fault.

It began with laughing at the pretty girls around the school, preferably the ones Fred would smirk to in the corridors between classes. Then, when Fred started to snog around, you began torment these girls.

It was fun at first, but now, when you had just messed with Alicia Spinnet for going on a date with Fred, you weren’t as happy as you’d have been one year ago.

“Told you it was not a good idea,” said Sabrina when you sat down in the couch in the Slytherin common room, next to her. “Those girls are innocent.”

“And what? I’m not?”

“You are, but not when you mess with them!” pointed out Jennifer. She’s the one with the shorter temper from all of you. “I mean, it was fun while doing it, but now, we’re just baddies bored.”

There was a minute of silence before you spoke again.

“What was I supposed to do? Just be quiet and watch Alicia fall for Fred?” you sighed. “At least now she won’t have the guts.”

“That’s just pure evil,” said Sabrina. You rolled your eyes, nudging her jokingly.

“You should ask him out,” said Jennifer and not only you, but Sabrina also stopped breathing and stared at Jen. “What? We three know that’s the only permanent fix.”

“As if he would say yes,” you frowned and chuckled, but that just hurt your feelings a bit more.

“He could,” pondered Sabrina, backing Jen up.

“Do I have to remind you what he called me?” you instantly got up from the couch and stared down at your best friends.

“We remember. But Fred was only twelve, y/N,” pointed out Sabrina, always seeing the good in everyone.

“And you were kinda annoying,” added Jen.

You showed Jen your tongue before leaving them in the common room. Your brain was working hard with opposite thoughts — a part of you wanted to go and confess to Fred and apologize for mistreating all the girls he ever liked. But you knew that you were too proud to do that, and it wasn’t like he was going to magically welcome you with a kiss, either.

It had been a long time since you two were best friends. Sabrina was right — Fred changed; you changed. No longer are helpless children, who fled at dawn to find themselves in the lake hidden in the forest near their homes.

You both grew up, and whether you wanted to or not, you moved on.

You learned to confront your mother — even if she still drives you crazy, prescribing crazy diets that she heard about in the Muggle world. Fred achieved his personal brilliance — he no longer lived in the shadows of his older brothers, much less wanted to imitate them, as he used to say.

What your best friends didn’t know; what really scared you was that maybe you didn’t love Fred anymore.

Something, in the depths of his soul, said that the silly redhead, who did everything to stop you from crying and that used to give you his own sweets, even when he really wanted them, was still there. But when you bumped into the halls, and your eyes met, Fred looked more and more unrecognizable.

***

“So... Alicia wonders if you’re gonna ask her out again,” George informed his twin as soon as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.

“Huh?” Fred mumbles, noticing he had been zoning out.

George moves around in his seat, trying to copy the path Fred’s eyes made to his twin.

“I think the answer is never,” George says calmly, chuckling with himself.

“What’re you talking about?” Fred demands, a bit too harsh than he should’ve been.

“Alicia wanted a second date with you, it appears. But you don’t,” George finally explains, getting a piece of bread from the board in front of him. “You don’t do second dates; should’ve just told her.”

“You know me,” Fred sighed, not really wanting to keep the conversation going.

“When are you going to talk to her?” George asks, without raising his eyes from his food.

Fred turned to his twin, confused. But his performance doesn’t last — Fred knows it’s pointless to hide something from George. Many times, George understand what’s happening with Fred before himself realizes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Fred babbled, frustrated with himself for being so stupid and letting things get this bad.

The two Weasley are staring across the Hall, looking at y/N as she eats her lunch, unaware of the boys staring at her. And that isn’t a first — you are always unaware of boys gazing at you.

“I don’t think there’s something in need to be said other than an apology. From both parts,” said George, raising just one brow. “I think you two just need each other; to be at the presence of one another.”

“As if I can just stumble on her and stay there,” Fred rolls his eyes.

“You could try,” George shrugged.

Fred stared at his twin was last time, knowing would be pointless to say something else.

***

“Here comes the fatty,” laughed out loud Blaise.

Involuntarily, you cringed. It was as if every year learning to deal with bullies had disappeared; it was like you were ten again and running scared of the bad boys.

Blaise Zabini had something against you, or so it seemed. It wasn’t the first time he had offended you, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. And it hurt more when the offence came from him because he was a handsome boy. It always hurts the most when it comes from pretty boys.

“Can’t skip a meal for your own good, can you?” he laughed again, nudging you with his shoulder while passing through you to get to the Slytherin table for the last feast of the day.

“Shut it, Blaise,” a voice came from behind you — strong, powerful, commanding.

You slowly turned around, ducking even more when you notice who was the owner of the voice. Not that you had any doubts before turning — you could recognize Fred’s voice miles away.

“What did you say to me, Weasley?” Blaise turned too, with an angry look. Two friends of his came closer.

“I said for you to keep you fucking mouth shut,” shouted Fred, clearly losing his temper.

You stared at the red-haired boy like he was your saviour. You didn’t need it, but sure as hell was nice to know you had one.

Blaise came forward, but Fred got to his face first, punching it right in the middle. Blaise cried, running his hands thought the bloody mess his face was now.

Blaise’s friends rushed towards Fred, but behind him, Lee Jordan and George fetched their wands and pointed towards the boys, who stepped back for a second.

Fred was rushing to punch Blaise again, but the boys kinda stopped him, while he fought them, wandless.

You were lost in the chaos, the whole school watching and no teacher seemed to be around to stop it. When you got your functions back, you ran towards Fred, to stop his nonsense, but you weren’t fast enough, and when you pulled him away, the taller of Blaise’s friends had already punched Fred in the eye.

“Stop it now, all of you!” you shouted, and George immediately stepped in front of you, pointing his wand at the boys while you and Fred walked out of the Great Hall’s entrance. Blaise ran out of there too, but he used the other corridor.

Pushing doors until you found one that opened, you shoved Fred inside.

“Sit down, I can’t take a look at your eye like this,” you complained, and without looking at you, he pulled a chair and sat down.

You stepped closer, raising your hand towards his face. He didn’t take his hand off his eye, so you, gently, with your hand, pushed his away.

“Oh, Freddie,” you let it slip, slowly rubbing your thumb over his purple eyelid. At least, he wasn’t bleeding. “Episky,” you whispered, pointing your wand towards his blackeye.

Magic was good because of things like that — his eye was immediately better. Probably not perfect, it would need a small amount of time for the colour to go back to its completely normal. It was no longer purple, but a soft tone of pink.

It didn’t seem like long, although it also didn’t seem like time was passing, you and Fred stared at each other eyes, expecting something apparently, something that never came. An apology? A thank you?

“You shouldn’t have done that to Blaise,” you finally said, sighing before letting the words out. Since you were still standing up, you placed your hands on your knees, an attempt of being on eye-line with Fred.

“He deserved worst,” Fred argued.

“Well, yes,” you shrugged. “But you had nothing to do with it.”

“What is that suppose to mean?” Fred asked, raising his tone.

“It’s supposed to mean that you have nothing to do with my business, Fred,” you sighed, suddenly surprised to be the calm one.

“Really?” he raised a brow, trying to find a better spot in the chair. You were about to roll your eyes when he continued. “Because it seems we’re always messing with each other’s business.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” you used his own words against him.

“I think you know,” he said, regretting immediately for having used such a harsh tone. He breathed, stretching his back. “Our paths always cross, even when you try to avoid me.”

“Avoid you?” you asked. “Avoid you?” you raised your tone. “I’m not the one who pushed you away! I’m not the one who decided to ignore you in the corridors when you were completely new in the school — when you knew nobody!” you took your hands out of your knees and stepped back, turning your face away because you knew tears could appear at any moment. “I’m not the one who called my supposedly best friend a fatty!”

You couldn’t see Fred’s face since you were gazing away, bu you heard his gasp and then dozen of attempts to say something, but he apparently couldn’t organize his words.

He couldn’t find an excuse.

“y/N, look, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say to fix that, I know. I was a jerk,” Fred said, calling your attention back to him. “I deserve everything you wanna call me because I was fucking stupid. A bloody fool and worse. I was just so naive, trying to impress the Gryffindor table by saying trash to a Slytherin. And then I avoided you and made George avoid you too. You didn’t deserve it — You don’t deserve it.”

You looked back at him, his eyes sparkling with what you thought was the beginning of tears.

“I really don’t deserve it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “So, thank you for... the eye. I’ll be out of your way.”

“Wait,” you stopped him before he even had a chance to get up.

“What?” he looked up, staring deep into your eyes.

You cringed, suddenly unsure of what to say. Why did you interrupt Fred? Why hadn’t you let the idiot out of the room, out of your life?

Why did you always go back to him?

“I don’t want for you to get out of my way,” you said, your voice was practically a whisper, he might not even have heard it.

But it was Fred, and he had been waiting for that for so long.

“We were best friends, Fred,” you groaned, leaning your back lower.

“We were never best friends,” Fred let out, squeezing his eyes tight, biting his lower lip in a way that caught your eye. “You can’t be friends with someone you’re in love with,” he said as if it explained everything.

Your heart skipped a beat — you thought he never knew you fancied him.

“You knew,” you commented, running your fingers through your scalp.

“I knew? That I love you? Well, it took me a while to figure it out, but it was easier when I saw how George thought about you was a bit different than how I thought about you and things just... clicked,” he gave you a full explanation of something you did not ask, but, God, were you happy to hear. “So, I’m sorry, I can’t pretend I’m your friend. It’d be too painful at this point.”

“Freddie?” you called his name while placing your hands in his jaw. “I don’t wanna be your friend either,” you whispered, your face so close to his and then, when you smirked, he gasped.

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” you chuckled before he pulled your face closer, gently. Then he locked your mouths together in the softest of the kisses.

But softness and the gentleness didn’t last long. It was hard having to bend down to reach his lips, and Fred noticed your struggle. He fastly pulled you down, by moving a hand to your waist and pulling it towards his lap.

You gulped in the middle of the kiss, scared, for a second, it would be too heavy for him or even for the chair. But neither complained. It seemed you were weightless to Fred, who couldn’t care less your whole body was supported by his. Actually, he seemed to care, but in a way much more pleasurable.

The kiss turned to a much hot make-out session, with hands wandering both bodies, and some soft giggled every time you two gasped for air. You were both desperate — both have been dreaming of this for too long.

“You are perfect,” Fred whispered in your ear before biting it.

You had to bit your own lip to hold a groan in.

“Beautiful, talented, amazing...” he lost himself in his words when you leaned for his neck. Guess I found his weak spot, you smiled to yourself. “Definitely not a witch — you’re a goddess.”

“Keep complementing, and we’ll never leave this room,” you smiled before biting his lip this time.

“That’s the plan,” he smirked. “Should’ve punched a jerk before if I knew I would get this thank you.”

You leaned away just for a second, so you could see his eyes and they sparkled just for you.

“Don’t worry,” you said, “I can find you other jerks to punch around.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasleyx plus size!reader #fred weasley x plus size #fred weasley x plus size reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #Fred and George #Fred and George Weasley #george weasley #harrypotter #harry potter #plus size reader #plus size #plus size!reader #plus size!slytherin!reader

191 notes · View notes

prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

So wrong it’s right

Part 2 // Part 3

Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader

Request: (Sorry if I make a mistake, English is my second language) Will you make a story with a somewhat villain reader (but shes not exactly evil) that keeps helping Angel out because she likes him and in the start he wont trust her but one day they kiss and Angel becomes confused about how he feels? I hope that makes sense. If I didn’t explain it well please don't feel you need to write it you can ignore this.

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Violence/fighting. Swearing.

A/N: This is the kind of fic I LOVE to write. I enjoyed myself with this one !! 💜

You weren’t well-liked in LA. The ‘good guys’ hated you, trying to stake you at any second and the ‘bad guys’ despised you. Both felt this for the way that you made decisions based on how you felt. No allegiance to good or evil. No atonement or evil plotting. You served neither the powers or dark forces. This was a fluid and extremely ambiguous way to live, which brought suspicion with you wherever you went. But you were nothing if not authentic to your beliefs. You just weren’t really sure what those beliefs were yet.

In any case, you didn’t much care for world domination nor did you hang out in particularly damp underground hovels that you wouldn’t even bury your dog in, let alone spend precious years of your un-life.

LA had a certain draw to you, it was a hub. A beating heart of life that helped you thrive in a way you had only dreamed of when you really were alive. But most importantly, it wasn’t a backwater little town. The type that always seemed to harbour Hellmouths. They seemed a little boring to you anyway.

Yeah, it holds all the supernatural power hotspots you could wish for, but at what cost? Everyone knew everyone’s business and there was such a large amount of demons concentrated in one area it was hard to navigate without bumping into several ex-lovers. Not to mention there was a higher chance of a Slayer on your back.

Now, just because you weren’t ‘evil’, that wasn’t to say you lived in the light. For one, you couldn’t. You would die… again. But also, you weren’t exactly chafing at the bit to do as the powers said. They couldn’t simultaneously damn you to hell when you got dusted whilst enticing you with some long-winded and ultimately unnecessary prophecy that gave you the one thing you were scared of. Hope.

You didn’t have a soul, and you didn’t care for gaining one. Not through a curse and even less through fighting for one yourself. This is why one vampire didn’t like you. He didn’t trust you and definitely never cut you a break.

The fact was, he barely looked your way. Unless you were stood in his path. And you had, a few times. He was convinced you had some ulterior motive but had little time for you until you turned into a bigger threat.

That was, up until the last few months. You had started to catch his attention more and more. You had been fighting, again. In the back room of some seedy bar. Trading blows, neither of you holding back. The real threat long since dusted. It was just gone three in the morning, a time you liked to be home. Just in case of a freak early sunrise (you had heard horrible things of whole towns of vampires wiped out suddenly).

You were fighting, hard. He never left it. He just couldn’t walk away. You were after the same stupid vampire. Yes, you had been after him because he owed you a large sum of money and around five Siamese cats, but the end was the same. You twisted from his firm grasp, throwing him over your head. He landed but didn’t stay down. He ran at you, pushing you back and slamming you against the door. Almost through it. He grabbed a stake and flipped it up in the air before expertly catching it, looking back in your eyes.

There was almost a flicker of danger. A flicker of all the stories you had heard of Angelus. There was something there, some kind of feeling and it got you excited. Up until this point, his face had been pretty unmoving every time you saw him. The stake dug into your chest, directly over your unbeating heart. You couldn’t help but enjoy the way his eyes scanned your face. Moving from your lips to your eyes and back again. He was so close you could just lean in and… no. Eye on the prize, you tell yourself. You would settle for a quip charged with at least a little sexual tension. On your end, at least.

“You gonna keep waving that thing around or are you going to actually do something with it?” You bite, breathing heavily a smile on your face. You didn’t need to breathe but it was still a habit.

“Why’re you here, huh? Why are you always around when something bad happens?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Now I’m never getting those fucking Siamese” You muttered as he scowled at you. You were going to threaten him one more time before staking him. He rolled his eyes, you were worse than spike. At least he had a soul. Wanted one. You were content with your lot and it bugged him to no end.

“You know, I think I might enjoy this” Angel said stoically.

“Watch out, you don’t want to get too happy” You teased with a smile, everyone knew about Angel – word travels fast even here, “Or maybe you do. You might be more fun, to be honest”

These was the last words he expected to hear from you, you were younger than him by a mile. He was used to vampires pretty easily going down. He moved his arm back, directing the wooden stake straight for your heart. In the same second, you changed into your vamp face and propelled your head forwards. Your hand twisted his wrist trying to knock the stake from his hand as you propelled your ridged forehead towards him. Headbutting him with all of your strength.

The stake pierced your skin, but luckily (or unluckily it still hurt like anything) it was stabbed into your left arm which made you yelp. You yelped almost as much as Angel in his surprise as his nose started to bleed. It was enough to stun him, letting you run off with the stake still sticking out of your arm as you took a short cut to your destination.

Angel walked back to the hotel slowly, pinching his nose and wiping the blood on his sleeve. He took the long route back, not wanting to have to tell the others that he had lost in a fight with a vampire who was probably half his age. When he returned Cordelia rushed over to him, helping him to sit down. The entire team was there, waiting up for him. Fantastic, now he would have to tell them.

“Oh, uh, Angel?” Fred asked softly, “This was left for you – on your desk”

He turned and there it was. The stake that had been embedded in your arm the last he saw you. You must have travelled fast to get there before he did. He took it as an act of aggression, especially when he read the note attached.

‘Until we meet again, sweet Angel’

“Is this your slayer friend?” Fred asked, looking down at the floor. She had taken somewhat of a shine to Angel and may have been a little jealous. She had just learned what a slayer was.

“She’s a little more dramatic, a little less with the subtle” Cordelia stated, knowing for sure that the person that brought it was not Buffy. Not at all.

“Yes, I recall the young woman is about as subtle as a brick” Wes chuckled softly, reminiscing over his brief stint as a watcher.

“No. it wasn’t her” Angel confirmed, turning and scowling, “Wes, I need everything you can find on a vamp. Name’s y/n”

“Y/n? Are you sure it is wise to, um, shake the hornets nest so to speak. They’ve done little to actively harm-” Wesley said quickly. A slightly sheepish look on his face. You had met him and helped him out several times. You often crossed paths late night at the occult book store. You weren’t afraid of losing your credibility over a little light reading.

Your intelligence was often what gave you the upper hand over many demons you came up against. Wesley was strangely fond of you, although he knew from word on the street you could be mean if something was in the way of what you wanted. He was pleasant enough although spending too long with him gave you an Englishman-induced headache. He does prattle on so. And, that phrase had been unfortunately transferred into your brain from listening to him for too long.

“Apart from, that they’re a vampire who brutally kills to eat and always seems to be in every bad situation we’ve been in recently” Angel snapped, “I want everything. By tomorrow night”

“What are you going to do?”

“Kill them”

It had been several more months and Angel had seen you several times in that period. He had yet to make good on his promise. The tension mounted, peaking every time you became close. Your back and forth riling you up, making you begin to pine for his attention.

He had noted that you had common goals, evil tended to get mowed down in your wake. Which, he couldn’t exactly complain about except that your personality was simultaneously infuriating and intriguing.

But he maintained that he didn’t like you. The way you danced through life, with no guilt. Very little self-reflection. You wouldn’t join him and that was enough, in his eyes for you to be against him.

This evening finds you on the hunt for a backstreet dealer, one that could find you an item that was particularly hard to find. Especially now Angel had a snitch on the inside, the deliveries were starting to slow. Dust couldn’t drive trucks.

You arrived at the meeting place, a dingy alleyway despite you specifically asking to meet somewhere that didn’t smell like something had died there. You had a very sensitive sense of smell.

“You got the stuff?” You asked, gesturing with your head for the demon to open the briefcase. But he snatched it from your grasp and the boss stepped from the shadows. This meant something more sinister.

“You helped him. We saw you” The scaly man with an impressively tailored suit accused.

“What?”

“Angel” He confirmed. Bad things happened to people who didn’t side with the boss. You knew this.

“I don’t pick allegiances, I told you. I’m just me” You assured them, eyes on the briefcase.

“You’re with us or you’re with him. Choose.”

“Fine.” You shrugged, the man nodded approvingly. It had been easier than he thought.

“Good, glad that you’re-” You spun into a kick, hitting his jaw which made him shut up. You hated people who gave you an ultimatum. You, for this very moment only, were on Angel’s side. Fists flying, feet connecting with hard bodies. You fought against them, hard.

More of them started to turn up. As if there had been a call. They started to surround you. You were strong, but not that strong. Your un-life flashed before your eyes. There was so much you had left to do. I mean, you had never even been to a virgin sacrifice. Never properly feasted on St Vigeous. You hadn’t even found your anti-soulmate.

You were almost ready to give up. And then he turned up. Your guardian angel.

Angel assessed the fight, realising you had been caught up. Not realising why it broke out. You fought beside each other, but traded insults with your ally. You found yourself waiting for these interactions with him. It made you smirk. This was the way you flirted.

You enjoyed this back and forth. He was starting to make you feel alive again. Begin to… hope.

The fight was finished and now all you both were was surrounded by dust. You took a breath. In name, not in action, recovering from the fight.

But he grabbed you by your shoulders, you had taken your guard down. He slammed you into the brick wall. The contact almost made you shiver as you smiled wide. You opened your mouth to speak, he was expecting it and spoke first.

“Don’t” He warned, frustrated at the way your eyes danced despite his threat.

“I’ve been waiting for this for months” You smirked, leaning closer to his face. There was barely an inch between you.

“Huh. Your death?”

“We’re already dead, baby, I’m looking more for the spice of life” You teased before leaning in and finally catching your lips with his. This had been all you had been thinking since you had first met him. The tension had reached its crescendo and you had to act.

It was an urgent kiss, you were willing him to reciprocate. His action beforehand made the adrenaline pump around your body harder. Want him more. There was danger harboured deep below the soul he cared for so deeply and it called to you like a moth to a flame.

You wanted him. You enjoyed every side you had seen so far. You didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to admit the tension in the air when you were around each other.

His lips didn’t move at first for those agonising moments. And then they did. All at once. His lips moving and fiery against yours, now fighting you for dominance. You tasted so good to him. A hand gripping your upper arm tightly with the other sliding up the curvature of your neck.

You slid your hands between the fabric of his shirt and his leather jacket, grasping at him. Your fingers snaked around him, exploring unchartered territory. He felt so good, you wanted him closer.

You found yourself almost preferring the feel of this more amiable touch to the harsh blows you had exchanged previously. He pressed you further into the wall, wanting more.

But all too quickly, his lips started to falter and you felt him start to pull away. He started to think too much into it. Comprehending the implications. You felt too good to him. You were a distraction, a sinful figure that strayed him from the power’s path. You almost whined as he pulled himself from where he had been pressed flush against you. He had to fight himself to remove his hands from you.

Your hands slid sadly from where they had been exploring his lean form. You felt yourself pouting slightly, which is a feat when you have fangs like you did.

His face had changed during your kiss, as had yours. Your vampire forms released as the tension did. Your more animalistic forms finding each other so appealing. The kiss a revelation, in some sense a curse. But again, he was used to that.

He pulled back, his face the picture of shock. It was the most emotion he had allowed you to see. So many contradictory emotions flashing behind his eyes. It had felt wrong, but oh so right to kiss you that way. He wanted more. He wanted to get as far away from you as possible.

You watched him in his turmoil, not able to hide the way you enjoyed seeing his face this way. You reached with your hand to trail along the distinctive bumps of his forehead. You couldn’t help it, you had suddenly begun to soften for him. Against your will. You wanted him to want you deeper than you had realised.

He realised that his vampire face was showing. He winced away from you, and you scanned over his face. He switched back immediately. Masking it.

He was ashamed. You frowned, your own vamp face still there. You embraced all that you were. You scanned his face, trying to show him that he could be himself with you. But he didn’t read that from your face.

He stepped back, all contact with him now gone. His eyes still trapped in yours for a moment. Your back was still pressed against the rough brick, your arm still outstretched for him.

But he just ran, jacket whipping around him as he kicked up his dust on way out of the alleyway. As if a magician through a puff of smoke, he was gone.

You eventually moved yourself from the wall, leaning to take the briefcase. You shrugged, dusting it off from the ash that had been left from the fight.

You walked slowly with your items, thoughts beginning to spin. Finding yourself lacking something deep inside that you had not realised you had been missing for so long.

125 notes · View notes

tinumiel · 3 years

Text

Time for the tea aka I just finished Rule of Wolves

Spoiler alert...I...was kind of really disappointed by it :/

NEEDLESS TO SAY THERE’S SPOILERS OVER SPOILERS FOR KING OF SCARS AND RULE OF WOLVES BELOW THE READ MORE...Also a long ass essay no one asked for, I just needed to vent.

General Impression.

I was kind of disappointed, because the duology was sold as a Nikolai Lantsov duology, and while I definitely felt that was delivered in King of Scars, I feel like in Rule of Wolves he just sort of became a secondary character to the stories of others like Nina and Zoya (which don’t get me wrong, I love that they gain protagonism, but then why sell the whole thing as Nikolai centered?). That said, I loved Nina’s entire storyline and really enjoyed the Shu Han plot (which I think sets up quite nicely for a new, independent storyline).

Things I DID NOT like.

First I’ll speak of things that I didn’t like but more because of personal preferences. That is, things I didn’t like, but I can see why other did enjoy.

Zoyalai. I guess this has a lot to do with the fact that I am a Nikolina shipper first and a human being second and it’s hard for me to let go of a ship once I’ve invested myself in it. I wanted to like Zoyalai, and I did for the majority of King of Scars, but in Rule of Wolves, it suddenly started to feel kind of forced to me. I think they have a lot of things in common, but differ in very fundamental aspects that on the long run simply wouldn’t make them work. But more than that, I felt like their entire lovestory in Rule of Wolves was basically some kind of Nikolina AU in which everything that a very large chunk of the fandom wanted to see with Nikolai x Alina, was given to Zoya x Nikolai. It almsot felt as if Leigh Bardugo said “Oh well, the fans really wanted to see this, but since I gave the character they wanted to see in it a different ending, I’ll just give it to them but with a different character” and Zoya was just the one available for the plot. They did have some cute moments and I definitely do enjoy their relationship, but more as confidents and friends than lover interests.

Zoya’s storyline. I feel like Zoya was done dirty in Rule of Wolves, which is kind of ironic considering she ends the story with pretty much everything she dreamed of and more. But i felt like in King of Scars, Zoya went through a very interesting journey. She was always this character than sticks almost stubbornly into a certain way things should be, she doesn’t like stepping out of her comfort zone because she likes to feel in control. And in King of Scars she went through a journey in which she gradually learned to step outside the box. But I felt like for the most of Rule of Wolves, she simply reverted back, completely ignoring her changes in the previous book, until the very last minute in which she has this sudden epiphany moment about letting go, which seemed unnecessary to me since she had already experienced it in King of Scars. Secondly, on a similar note with the whole Zoyalai being a Nikolina AU with a different character, I felt like in Rule of Wolves Zoya was simply shoved into the alternate role many of us hoped to see Alina in. Not just as Nikolai’s partner, but as a person. Think of it, she gained this power no one else possesses, she becomes pretty much one of a kind, she becomes a queen that represent reunification. It’s basically as if she became a version of what Alina could have been, but with a different personality. A soldier queen? Alina was a soldier. A grisha queen? Alina was grisha. A suli queen? Alina was not half suli, but she is half shu, which are pretty much equally discriminated against. And finally, there’s this part in which I think it’s Nikolai refers to her as “Soldier. Summoner. Saint”. Sounds familiar? Because it’s the exact same words written on every cover of the Shadow and Bone trilogy, referring to Alina. It makes me very upset that they gave Zoya this discarded storyline for Alina instead of building up her own storyline (Not to mention: it did Alina equally dirty because she lost all of those conditions because Mal couldn’t handle being in the shadow of someone extraordinary, but that’s another story).

Not for things I didn’t like, but for much more rational reasons.

The Darkling. When I finished reading King of Scars, I thought bringing him back was a pretty good plotwist. But it was also a tricky choice, because it coul fall into the “He was such a appealing villain tor readers in the first trilogy, I’ll bring him back to have the same success” trap. And that’s exactly what happen. I feel like if a villain (or any character really) is going to be brought back, then they have to fill in a different role from the one they originally occupied. The Darkling is basically the same. Even his conditions aren’t fundamentally that different once he gets his powers back. All the Darkling really needs are his powers, his tongue and a group of people desperate enough for someone to follow. And he had all of those things in Rule of Wolves, so it was simply repetitive. It was like the Darkling, but in rags.Plus it didn’t feel so much as a storyline, but more like a constant reminder of “LOOK HOW EVIL HE IS HE NEVER CARED FOR ANYONE. THAT QUOTE YOU PEOPLE LOVE SO MUCH ABOUT CHANGING THE WORLD IS ACTUALLY MEANINGLESS LOOK HOW MUCH HE SUCKS”. Like, I don’t need to be reminded he’s a bad guy, I am fully capable of knowing this and still liking his character. He’s a fictional character, I don’t need to be reminded of it. I’m capable of rational thought. Not to mention his ending felt like a huge nothing. “And he impaled himself to a tree”. It just felt like more of an excuse to set up for a Six of Crows #3 book. It’s just disrespectful to the fascinating character from Shadow and Bone. It basically took away everything that made him such a good character.

David dying.Fine, not much rational reasons here. It’s just doing my baby dirty. Why, oh why is Mal still alive, boring, toxic Mal who spent most of his time putting his love interest down; while David, sweet David who compromised and made an effort to do things that would make his wife happy even though it was hard for him, dies? It’s just cruel.

All in all, I felt like the Ravka storyline pretty much fell apart in Rule of Wolves. I almsot felt tempted to skip it if it wasn’t because I didn’t want to miss any Nikolai quotes. I felt like Leigh Bardugo doesn’t really know what to do with the characters, and it became pretty obvious to me during the titanium heist with the special guest starring of the Crows. In like two chapters, I felt like Kaz, Jesper and Wylan were more smoothly written than any of the Ravkans. Which was really sad for me, considering how Nikolai is my favorite character in the entire verse, and Zoya was such an amazing character in the original series (and in KOS too).

What I DID LIKE.

Nina’s storlyine. Just, all of it. It was exciting, and dynamic, and you could perceive Nina’s character arc while still never straying into ooc territory. The way her griedf was treated, her loyalties, her desire to fight, her desire for revenge but also her desire to honor Matthias’s memory. All of it was so flawlessly written. I thought I’d be bored with her stuck in the Ice Court, but it was the storyline I actually enjoyed the most. The Fjerdan intrigues and political battles, and Nina in the midst of it. trying to do what was best for her country and the people she loved. I love what was done to her character.

On the same note, I love Nina and Hanne. This, unlike my problem with Zoyalai, is a case in which, while I adored an original ship, I actually ended up enjoying the new one. Matthias and Nina were perfect for each other. But I loved how Hanne came to offer a new love. (I’m not sure if I should refer Hanny as she or he, so I’ll just use they until I get a better notion of what pronouns the character identifies with). It genuinely felt like they were not a replacement for Matthias, or an upgrade. They were a love interest on their own, with their own story, not a “what if” version of another love story. Plus, Hanne is just objectively great.

The Shu-Han storyline. I didn’t even know I needed it, but it was so fascinating to read about the Shu. I find there is a lot to unpack and I really hope in the future, Leigh Bardugo will write a new series following those characters. I loved Mayu and Ehri and grandmother Leyti. Plus, Mahki would make a great antagonist. And it would suppose a new colorfun addition to the countries we already know well, like Ravka and Fjerda, plus the city of Ketterdam.

The Crows. I know it was probably pure fan service, but I love just how well written they are, how you can really tell that Leight Bardugo has the complete hang and understanding of the characters. Plus, it’s always nice to see how my babies are doing.

FINAL THOUGHTS

All in all, I felt that the book had some highlights, but some decisions just pretty much ruined it for me. I hope the good parts are picked up and carried on in different sagas, and the rest...well, I guess I’ll keep on pretending the Ravka story finished when Alina and Nikolai were watching the stars fall and from then on, imagine they got marries, became an awesome power couple, and were the godparents of all of Genya and David’s beautiful, clever children. While Zoya looked upon all of them like “These are a pack of idiots but they are my pack of idiots and I am so proud”.

If you read this rant until the end, you’re awesome. If you liked Rule of Wolves, damn you are so lucky and I am glad you enjoyed it like I wish I had. But at least we can all join together under one common thought: Jarl Braum is a little bitch.

#shadow and bone #king of scars #rule of wolves #leigh bardugo #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #nina zenik #grishaverse #out the door (ooc)#thaly trash

7 notes · View notes

the-panwitch · 4 years

Text

Set Me Free (Pt 2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Alright here it is! Part 2 and the end to Set Me Free, requested by @lazydogscatsperson. I hope you guys like it because my fingers are cramping so bad from how much I just typed.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sword fighting, swearing, your dad is a dick, my bad writing, kidnapping again, comment if there should be any other warning

Word Count: 3846

Pairing: Peter Pan x Hook!Reader

Summary: Hook finds you and Pan on the beach and takes matters into his own hands, er, hook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1

You woke up to yelling. Your arms were full of sand instead of your new boyfriend. You looked up and quickly grabbed your knife, jumping to your feet. There were pirates everywhere, and you could see Peter struggling in the arms of at least four of them. You were about to lunge at the nearest one when a certain flash of silver caught your eye. A certain hook…

“Dad?” you cried out when you saw him. You would’ve been happy, except he was pointing a sword at Peter’s chest.

He spun around quickly and looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Strange...he looked so much older. Grey hairs speckled through his hair and beard, and his eyes had small wrinkles around them. What?

“Y/n is that you?” Captain Hook asked, lowering his sword slightly. Peter stared at you in shock. Oh, you never did tell him about your father. Oh dear.

“Dad, what are you doing? Let him go!” you yelled as you stormed over to him. The members of his crew moved to make way for you, and you were surprised to see you didn’t recognize some of them. Hook stared at you in confusion. Peter stared at you in anger.

“What do you mean ‘let him go’? Y/n, you know how dangerous he is. You know how he held me here against my will. Look, he’s done the same to you! He’s a demon, and I finally have the way to beat him.” Hook gestured towards Peter’s arms that were held in the tight grip of the surrounding pirates, but you also noticed thick leather cuff around one of his forearms that wasn’t there before.

“What is that?” you asked quietly, starting to reach out for it, to take it off, to hold Peter, to do something. You didn’t get the chance as the boy thrashed away from you, snarling.

“It blocks magic. He’s nothing more than a boy, now.” The captain waved his hand dismissively and the crew started to drag Peter back onto the Jolly Roger as he thrashed and yelled, trying to get away. It broke your heart and you turned to your father, rage seeping into your features.

“Let him go. He hasn’t done anything!”

Your father turned to you and barked out a laugh. “Hasn’t done anything? Y/n, you're obviously under one of his spells. He kept you here, away from me. Don’t worry, though. You’re safe now away from him. You’re free from his prison.” You didn’t get the chance to argue as your father turned and walked back onto the Jolly Roger, taking you with him.

————————

You had no chance to escape. Hook had made sure you were never alone, always having someone from his crew watching you. Some freedom. You couldn’t go anywhere without a stupid babysitter. There was no chance to call for the Lost Boys. You were trapped. Again.

Once your father had Peter put into a cell he had pulled you into a tight embrace. He had explained to you that what felt like a few weeks had actually been a few years, three years in fact. He had spent the whole time looking for you, and now he was determined to never let you go again. You tried telling him about you and Peter, how you cared about each other, but he laughed and brushed it off. He told you that Pan couldn’t love. That he had brainwashed you. He couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

You were now standing at the edge of the ship, scowling into the depths of the water. You occasionally could see a mermaid swim by, and you resisted the urge to throw a knife at her. The pirate watching you, his name was Benno or something, was leaning up against the mast. You kept sneaking little glances at him, waiting. Watching. It would happen eventually. You just had to be patient, and...bingo! He got distracted by some of the other crew members yelling at each other. You didn’t waste any time. You ran in the direction of Peter’s cell.

The cell was just a neglected extra room down in the hold. It didn’t take you very long to get the guards away and to pick the lock. When you opened the door, you felt your stomach drop. Peter was sitting in the corner looking exhausted and very, very angry.

You slowly stepped in and closed the door behind you, causing the boy to look up at you. His facial features that normally looked at you with such respect and kindness contorted into a look of fury and malice that made you take a slight step back.

“Peter－”

“Don’t ‘Peter’ me,” he snarled, standing up. He was livid. “I knew I shouldn’t have let myself fall for you! Made me soft. Probably just waiting for your father to get here and have his revenge on me, weren’t you?” He was practically screaming at you, and you could feel your own anger bubbling up. How dare he accuse you of that?

“I”m trying to rescue you, God damn it! I didn’t know my dad was coming!”

He scoffed and turned away from you. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were a Hook?”

“I was scared, Pan!” you yelled. “I was scared because ever since I was a kid my dad told me about the evil Peter Pan and how he was a jerk to everyone and then I met you and I didn’t want you to think of my dad when you saw me. For once, just once, I wanted someone to see me as more than Captain Hook’s daughter or the bastard daughter of a whore. I was scared if you knew who I was you would treat me like you did my dad. Now, I realize you’ve done much worse. You treated me with kindness and love, and now you’re taking it all back.”

You hadn’t realized you had started to cry until Pan started to reach for your cheek, but you wiped the blasted things off yourself. Without another word, you turned and left the cell, locking Pan away inside only to be met by the face of your father.

“I told you he was bad news, lass,” he said softly. “You should have stayed away.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you snarled. He started to walk towards you, but you just shoved past him. “No wonder mom can’t stand you! You won’t listen to anyone that isn’t yourself and you would rather keep me stuck in a tiny little bubble instead of let me be myself and do what I want. You’re insufferable!” You yelled over your shoulder.

“You don’t know what’s best for you!”

“Oh, I don’t?” You stopped and turned around to look at Hook. “I know that I want better than this,” you waved around the ship, “and I know I don’t want a father who’s going to lock up the people I care about and ignore everything I say!”

The Captain’s face fell, but he didn’t get the chance to say anything as you stormed off. Little did you know that a green eyed boy who sat pressed against a rough wooden door, had heard every word you said.

————————

It was late now. The moon hung in the sky, partially full but not quite there. You had feigned sleeping until the pirate assigned to watch you had passed out, then you snuck off to the top deck. There wasn’t anyone up there. The Jolly Roger was anchored a little ways off shore while your dad figured out his next move. You hoped he never would.

Movement in the trees caught your eye and you watched as a single figure crept out of the shadows. Whoever it was walked slowly, their head bowed slightly. You’d recognize that walk anywhere.

You stood up straighter and waved your hand a bit. The figure stopped and regarded you for a moment before walking down the shore. Your brow creased in confusion as you watched Felix move further away and seem to disappear into the ground. It was several minutes before he reappeared, and this time he was pulling a small boat with him. It took him a little while, but he eventually rowed himself over to the side of the ship where you were.

“Where did that come from?” you hissed at him as you pulled him up onto the ship with you.

He only shrugged before whispering roughly, “Where’s Pan?”

“You aren’t seriously attempting a rescue mission by yourself are you?”

“Of course not. You’re here, aren’t you? Besides, Lucas is waiting at the tree line. If something goes wrong he’ll get back up.”

You were about to protest, but from the look in the blond’s stormy eyes you knew it would be futile. So instead you just sighed and nodded. “He’s this way, but be quiet. I don’t think everyone is asleep yet.”

Turning on your heel, you led the way back to the hold. The snores of the crew reached your ears and the both of you sidled down the hallway towards the cell. Once you got there, you turned to Felix and sighed.

“I can get you in, but you’ll be the one getting Pan out.” At his confused look, you continued, “Pan is currently a little on edge with me at the moment. He’s more likely to go if he thinks it’s just you.”

“What happened? I thought you were both all over each other.”

“We were...for the night.” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. “Captain Hook is my dad and Pan thinks I led him on just to get captured. Just get him out of here for me.” You ignored the surprised look on Felix’s face as you turned and picked the lock on the door. The lock clicked and you stood back up, walking away before you could be stopped.

Each step you took away from your best friend and your lover felt heavy, but that didn’t stop you. This was for the best wasn’t it? Pan obviously didn’t want you around anymore. He was so angry at you. It was clearly better this way. Why hadn’t you just told him?

You snuck back up onto the deck and stood around near the mast, keeping an eye out but also keeping out of sight. It was dark and the waves were loud. As long as they were careful Felix and Pan should get away just fine.

Movement near the hatch caught your eye as you watched the two boys creep out of the hold. They both looked around quickly before moving towards the edge of the ship. You watched sadly as they both glanced in your direction, the shorter one watching you for a moment before disappearing over the side. The taller one stood there for a second, then another, then ten. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched Felix walk over towards you quickly.

“What are you doing? You need to get the both of you out of here,” you hissed softly.

“Come with us.”

“Fe, he doesn’t want me anymore and my father will just find us again. Just go.”

“Please,” he said softly.

You sighed and glanced around before turning back to him. “There’s no making you leave, is there?”

He smiled slyly and shook his head. You rolled your eyes before moving to the edge.

“Fine, let’s go then.”

————————

The ride back had been awkward. Pan wouldn’t even look at you and Felix was clearly not enjoying all the tension. Luckily, the shore wasn’t too far from the ship and the trip wasn’t that long. The walk back to camp was, though.

By the time you got there you were ready to scream. Nobody was talking except when Pan occasionally said something like “this way” or “nearly there.” A couple times you tried to instigate conversation, and every time Pan ignored you and Felix gave you a sad look. Ugh.

You were watching sadly as Pan tried to pull the cuff off of himself with no luck. It couldn’t be cut or pulled or anything that he and the boys had tried. The Lost Boys were now either in bed or keeping an eye out for Hook, including Felix and Lucas. It was just you and Pan now.

He yelled out in frustration and kicked at a rock on the ground in front of him, the cuff still perfectly intact. Pan sat back down on the log a few feet from you. You looked at him as he seethed, staring into the fire. The only sound that could be heard were the night birds and the crackling of the flames.

“I know why you did it.”

You turned, surprised, and looked at Pan.

“I know why you didn’t tell me. I think I would have done the same if I was in your position. As you can tell, the Captain and I don’t exactly play well together.” He didn’t look at you. He just stared into the fire, the flames making his green eyes look gold.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said quietly. “I still care about you.”

“I know.” Pan finally turned to you with a sincere expression on his face. “And...I forgive you. I’m still pissed as hell, but I forgive you.”

“You’re serious?”

“You have my word.”

You smiled softly and gently took his hand. Peter moved along the log until his hip slid next to yours, his free arm wrapping itself around your shoulders. The two of you sat like that for a while, his eyes back on the fire while yours inspected the cuff around his wrist. You were about to grab it when a yell was heard from across the camp.

Peter jumped up quickly, pushing you slightly behind him as you watched in horror as your father marched into the camp, his band of pirates in tow. Two of the pirates were holding onto Lucas and Felix, both of whom were thrashing around in their grip.

“You’re getting slow, Pan,” Hook taunted as he strolled forward. “Maybe it’s your old age, or perhaps your lack of magic.”

You stood up and walked over so that you were beside Pan, watching as your father narrowed his eyes.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him,” he said to you.

“And I thought I made it clear I didn’t give a damn.” Hook scowled a bit and turned away from you, focusing on Pan.

“Let her go.”

“I’m not holding her. You on the other hand, or I guess I should say hook, have two of my boys who I’d like back.”

“You took Y/n from me so easily, try taking them,” Hook snarled as he drew his sword.

You were about to shout a retort when Pan took a step forward. “Alright, but it’s a little unfair don’t you think? I’m unarmed. Bad form, Captain.”

Hook rolled his eyes and gestured to a particularly large pirate who tossed a sword to Pan. The boy caught it and stood in front of your father.

“This is ridiculous,” you started to say, but Hook had already swung at Pan who easily blocked and jabbed back. The Captain jumped back slightly to avoid the blow then lunged forward trying to stab at his stomach. Pan sidestepped and cut Hook’s leg with the tip of his sword causing you to wince and your father to yell out slightly. They kept dancing around each other, giving one another small cuts here and there, neither making much progress. It was clear that Pan was starting to tire without his magic to give him that extra push, and it was obvious Hook knew as he doubled his efforts.

You kept trying to yell at them, get them to stop it, but soon you watched as Pan’s sword was knocked out of his hand. He retreated a bit, trying to grab it as Hook advanced on him. However, the man was stopped as a small blade with a jeweled hilt was pointed at his throat, his daughter at the other end of it.

“I said enough!” you roared at him.

“Let me through, Y/n. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I think I fucking do, actually. I know that I’m trying to stop you from cutting the boy I love open. I know I’m trying to knock some sense into you. And I sure fucking know that I’m stopping you from being an asshole! Why can’t you just leave us be?” you yelled, keeping your knife at his neck. “All my life you and mom have done nothing but try and control me. I’m finally happy here. You aren’t taking that away from me.”

He stared at you in astonishment and surprise. You were deadly serious, and he had his fears confirmed that you weren’t actually under a spell. You just finally found your place, and it wasn’t at his side. He slowly sheathed his sword and took a step back from you, a sad sigh leaving his lips.

“This is really what you want, isn’t it? You want to be here, with him.”

You nodded and hesitantly lowered your blade. “I’m happy here,” you repeated.

The Captain shook his head a bit as he looked down for a moment, seeming to debate with himself. Slowly, he looked back up at you.

“Then take care of yourself, lass.”

Your jaw dropped a bit as you looked at him to which he gave you a sad smile. “Don’t look so surprised. You, uh, you clearly know what you want. As long as he takes care of you, then okay.”

Peter’s hand gently laid against your lower back and you looked at him. “I’ll care for her with my life,” he said softly, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Hook looked like he had to bite back a retort and simply nodded. He snapped his fingers and the two pirates holding Felix and Lucas let them go and the boys walked back over, Lucas making sure to step on the toes of the pirate that had held Felix.

Your father and his crew were about to leave when you called out, “Wait!” The captain turned around just as you collided into him, wrapping your arms around you tightly. You felt him chuckle a bit as he held you.

“I know you can hold your own here,” he said quietly as he kissed your head. “And I’m sorry for making you feel so unhappy. Just don’t be mad when I decide to drop by to visit, yeah?”

“I think I’d like that. As long as you behave.”

He let out a laugh as he let go of you. “You just keep your boyfriend under control, and I will.”

You smiled at him softly. He started to turn back around as you said, “Wait, one more thing.”

“Y/n, I swear if you do that one more time I’m just not going to leave.”

“I know I know,” you said with an eye roll. “Just, how do we get the cuff thing off of Peter?”

“Oh, that. It’s blood magic. If you pull it off it’ll work.”

“Seriously? He’s been trying to get it off for the last two hours and all I had to do was pull it off?” Hook just shrugged with a grin.

“I’ll see you around, love.”

“Bye dad.”

With that, the Captain walked away, for real this time. You turned around and walked back towards your new family to free your boyfriend, intending to keep the cuff for whenever he annoyed you.

————————

“And that is why I live in Neverland and how I became the Mother,” you said with a smile. This was met with two wide eyed stares as Aviva and Elijah looked up at you.

You had the twin four-year-olds curled up in your lap as you sat upon the furs of your’s and Peter’s shared bed. They were the newest addition to the Lost Kids of Neverland. After months of pleading, Peter finally decided to start allowing kids who weren’t boys to join the Lost Kids, the first one being Aviva, an adorable little blonde haired girl who came with her twin brother Elijah. They had gotten here a little less than a year ago and had been demanding the story of you and Peter for weeks. Of course, you made the story a bit more PG for their young ears.

You hardly had any time to yourself now that they were here as they refused to leave your side except to go play with Cassie, Thomas, and Parker. However, they were absolutely adorable so you didn’t complain much. Peter did, though.

“Love, there you are!” You looked up as he strolled into the cabin. You smiled at him as he walked over and pecked your lips causing Elijah to make a face.

“I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“I was just telling these little guys a story,” you said as you gave the twins a little squeeze.

“Did you really lost a fight to Captain Hook?” Elijah asked curiously.

“It’s lose,” Peter corrected gently as he ruffled the boy's blond hair. “And no, of course not. I let him win.”

You snorted and he pushed you playfully. “You shush it,” he muttered with a playful glare to which you just giggled.

“Come on,” Peter said as he lifted Aviva into his arms. “Lucas said he saw the Jolly Roger a few paces out. Shouldn’t be long now.” He turned to Aviva and smiled. “You wanna go see Grandpa Hook?” She giggled and nodded quickly.

Elijah climbed out of your lap and looked up at Pan. “Do you- do you think he will give me a map again?” the young boy stuttered.

“He just might, bub.” You smiled and watched as your boyfriend took the smaller boy’s hand before turning back to look at you.

“We’ll see you down at the beach?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It had been a few years since that day when your father chose to let you live on Neverland. He came and visited every few months and the boys all learned to love him. The younger kids all called him Grandpa Hook and they all hoped to get little trinkets from him. Elijah had a map collection starting and Aviva always got some shells and rocks whenever Hook came by. Sometimes he would even bring things from your mother. It wasn’t often, but when it did happen you smiled a bit despite the bitterness you felt towards her. Maybe one day you would see her again. Maybe.

You stood up from the bed and stretched, preparing to walk out the door. Neverland really had become your home within the last few years, and as you left your cozy cabin, you made a decision: you never wanted to be anywhere else. Here was your love, your life. Here, you were totally and completely free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @tommysparker @soft-petey @bebbeb @stixnstripesworld @orowit @dreamerinthesun @ididntseeurbag @lazydogscatsperson

If you want to be added to my taglist please fill out my form on my masterlist! If you want to taken out just comment! <3

99 notes · View notes

cassthecringe · 3 years

Text

OKAY IVE ACTUALLY PLAYED TWO SESSIONS SINCE MY LAST POST SO IM GONNA COMBINE THEM HERE SORRY FOR THE LENGTH BUT,,IVE COME SO FAR I DONT WANNA STOP NOW

this is gonna be very messy cause i WILL be jumping back and forth as things come back to mind so uhh pls enjoy this absolute ramble <3

anyway. i continued playing omori and boy do i have some Thoughts

so first session; i went through the pyre(something i forgot the full name sob) forest/sprout mole village/sweetheart’s castle in one go and let me TELL YOU. DOING THAT WAS FUCKING INSANE I WENT NUTS holy shit.

so anyway.

pyre forest!!!! the lil race against the big spider coming after u for disturbing the smaller spiders mechanic was very fun i had a lot of fun figuring out the best routes to take. i know normally mechanics like that lead to ppl getting frustrated cause u have to keep retrying but i had a lot of fun!!!! sum annoyance but good natured type, th kind that just makes u try harder u know? i just enjoyed it JKFN;FN; candles in the foggy forest....now That is an aesthetic

the rare bear scared the fuckin shit out of me i remember it didn’t attack me straight away so i was like “aw (:” but then when i press x on him it takes me to a BATTLE SCREEN AND SUDDEN THAT MF IS TERRIFYING I WAS LIKE WHWHWHWHWKJDNJ. very funny i honestly wished i recorded my reaction

also omori is afraid of drowning...................................i am breathing heavily. i think whatever happened to mari is related to at least one of the things omori is scared of. so either heights, spiders, or drowning it seems. spiders doesnt seem super likely as a contributor to her death, and while falling from a height is more realistic, such a senseless way of dying doesnt seem to rlly fit ? with the vibe i get from the kiddos in the real world. which makes me think maybe drowning/otherwise suffocating is how she died...but we’ll see. also due to the forgotten library part, we know omori explicitly feared spiders/drowning before mari died so it’s also probable im jus talking out my ass here but still,,,,thoughts

also this motherfucker?

literally fucking terrifying. IT’S BODY IS MADE OF SUCC’D SPROUT MOLES...i still have no idea what exactly it was doing to them but jesus h christ!!!! evil and fucked up. do not feel bad for curbstomping it

sprout mole village!!!! very cute, im v excited to send that one dude his brother’s care package. i like how, when theyre not lost, sprout moles can be real endearing lil guys,,,theyre not my fav lil enemies but (:

also for some reason omori is the first game ive played where i really care about getting achievements ? so i literally did the back and forth on my save file just to get all the season sprout mole achievements JKDJFJ;. i ended up sticking w spring tho before moving on for real cause spring is my fav season irl (:

also i felt SO BAD for cutting down that one sprout mole’s chistmas tree he was just trying to celebrate but i wanted to see that present and coincidentally becoming a christmas ruiner was an achievement so all’s fair in love and war i suppose

ALSO. th fuckin plant monster thing under the scientist sprout mole’s room. major little shop of horror vibes from the design, absolutely adored it!!!!! originally i did just cut the wire holding the piano over it, ending it in one go, but i was very curious abt it so i reloaded a save file to actually fight it and

i know it only spread that gas to make the kiddos happy cause being happy reduces attack i think ? it decreases attack/defense but seeing the kiddos smile so much was nice (:

however

omori...sunny....son boy.........u good ?

and now. sweetheart

the way the sprout moles completely adore and depend on sweetheart gives me such awful evil vibes and combined with such a luxurious background was fucking incredible

sweetheart herself, speaking of. bitch (sorta affectionately, certainly not derogatory)

i talked to every sprout mole in the audience before taking my seat and i literally dont know why. even when i picked up the pattern of where the unique dialogue could be found (usually the sprout moles farthest right) i still talked to all of them......just in case ? i have no idea. i dont know why i did that. i feel it’s important that i note it tho

LMAO SO WHEN SPROUT MOLE MIKE DID THE MINUTE OF SILENCE FOR YE OLD SPROUT MOLE

I LITERALLY FELT SO FUCKING BAD LMAO I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD NO!!!!!! I DID THAT!!! I KILLED HIM!!! OH MY GOD!!! I WONDER HOW AWKWARD OMORI KEL HERO AND AUBREY FELT IN THE AUDIENCE HOLY SHIT THEY HAD FRONT ROW SEATS TO SPROUT MOLE MIKE’S MOURNING!!! MY GOD FJKFN;;

also sprout mole mike describing 3′7″ inches as ”towering” was the FUNNIEST shit i have ever seen. also i have to wonder, since sweetheart made up the whole show of sweetheart’s quest for hearts in the first place, if she was seriously down to marry a sprout mole if one suited her fancy. jus v funny to me honestly. SPEAKING of sweetheart’s dating patterns I NOTICED THOSE FEM SKELETONS IN THE DUNGEON!!!!! BI SWEETHEART!!!! SHE’S JUST AS DOWN FOR GIRLS AS SHE IS BOYS

i know TECHNICALLY not everyone is in the dungeon for failing to be a good enough suitor but STILL...COME ON. THIS WAS BEFORE WE KNEW THAT. SWEETHEART BI I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

anyway

when the lights when out and lightning struck the third contestant, i knew Immediately something was gonna go down. and when the mustache sprout mole was like “oh yes!! u!! in the striped pjs!! u absolute beast ur perfect!!!” i KNEW hero had just been selected as the replacement i was goign completely fucking nuts i was like OH MY GODNFNG; HIS HEART IS ALREADY TAKEN BY MARI!!!!!!! STOP

i ended up taking so many screenshots during this part cause i was going feral so here take a glance just cause i love, uh, hero

OUR HERO IN SHINING ARMOR DJLBH;KFJB

also GOD FUCKING DAMMIT IM SHORTER THAN HERO

hero shaking on the stage when he was introduced...oh my HEART....IM SO FOND FOR THIS BOY WTF!!!!! DKJDN;N

this is not really NEWS to me since it’s implied hero is tall but like come ON..... sorry just every time i find out a character is explicitly taller than me i need to huff about it, moving on,

HERO FUCKS

sorry i just have so many screenshorts during this aprt cause i was going fucking crazy but

literally terrifying! sweetheart bathes in that shit!! christ!

is blood good for ur skin? i imagine, so long as like...gore isnt in it and it’s solely blood it cant be BAD necessarily......but good ? regardless very fucked up. besides the fact that well, uh, BLOOD, blood is also sticky as hell. ur telling me sweetheart willinglhy bathed in that shit? disgusting. at least thin it out

anyway I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THE PUZZLES AT SWEETHEART’S CASTLE....FROM THE DUNGEONS TO THE KITCHENS TO THE BALLROOM TO THE LIBRARY TO THE GARDENS JUST EVERYTHING!!!! IT WAS SO FUN I ENJOYED FIGURING IT OUT SO MUCH IT WAS LITERALLY DELIGHTFUL...I LOVE THIS GAME SO MUCH THE GAMEPLAY IS SO FUCKING EPIC I LITERALLY HAVE SO MUJCH FUN.......OH MY GOD I JUST. INCREIDBLE!!!! FUCK

also the lil sir maximus bit.........i honestly felt really awful over having to kill them ): i think i even tried running once but it wouldnt let me...it hurt man ): they were just a family....

um but anyway,

i think it was rlly sweet how aubrey protested to the wedding cause she was worried abt sweetheart,,,like i cant rlly explain it idk how to put it into words,,like sweetheart is clearly not mentally well and having an episode, and aubrey being the only one to say “hey what ur doing is self-destructive and isolating” just mmmh. she cares a lot,,,and *i* care aubrey

also sweetheart’s battle theme fucking SLAPPED...SO GODDAMN HARD IM STILL QUAKING OVER IT....FUCKING BANGER YO!!!!!! INCREDIBLE

ah but alas

BASIL........I NOTICED THAT IT WAS HIS GHOST/SHADOW DURING THE EXIT FROM OTHERWORLD AS WELL BUT JUST FUCK

im so worried about basil ):

and it being so obvious that none of the others can see...........them asking omori if he’s okay.....oh my god. i go nuts

and then...the forgotten library part

i literally cried, again, oh my fucking god

these kids loved each other so much they ADORED the time they spent with each other and im QUAKING to know WHAT HAPPENED TO MARI......HOW DID THE FALLOUT GO. I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW

i know there are multiple endings to this game and on god i am not QUITTING until i get the happiest ending there is for these kids im literally a goddamn fuckign mess oh my god

MARI SHWOING UP IN THE LIBRARY AT ONE POINT AND LEADING OMORI...........IM LTIERALLY GOIGN INSANE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HE LOVED HIS SISTER SO MUCH HE’S SO CLEARLY LOST WITHOUT HER I CANT FUCKING DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW

GOD

okay sorry i just. ive said ti before but the grief in this game is so real and palpable and it aches, it aches so bad. also the white egret orchids in the library...i see u

but regardless.... session two real world electric boogaloo

LOVE that kel is like “so i need to run errands but u wanna come with me right? of course u do!” like fuck i rlly do. kel is just so delightful i would literally do anything to spend time with him

ALSO i noticed u can just refuse to open the door both times kel’s knocked now and it makes me wonder....if u could choose to ignore kel ? and then venture out urself or just ? i wonder what would even happen if u chose to not open the door. im CERTAINLY not doing it myself at the very least not this playthrough but i am curious...i bet that’s how u get a bad ending, by not talking w kel

but anyway....

aubrey and her gang not saying anything in the pizza parlor........i jus think abt that is all

ALSO!! pet rocks!!!!!!!!! LOVE this lil thing it’s so cute. jus rock paper scissors it babey

speaking of lil bits, love all the mini quests in the real world...it’s just rlly fun and builds up this cute lil town........it also makes me think that whatever happened to mari cant have been anything except an accident, bc no one comments on what a tragedy it was to omori. like if it was murder, there’s no way such a horrific situation wouldnt engulf the town for a bit and sweep over it for weeks at least, but that just doesnt seem to have happened. this is def me reading too into it tho;; point is neighbors nice (: also i got the seashell necklace and i go apeshit

ALSO......THE FUCKING...........CHURCH. I VISITED WITH KEL ON A COMPLETE WHIM CAUSE I WAS CURIOUS IF THE PASTOR WOULD TALK MORE ABT AUBREY BUT NO. INSTEAD HE TALKS ABT THE WEIRD VIBE FORM THE GRAVEYARD HE’S GETTING!!! AND THE DUDE WHO CHILLS IN THE GRAVEYARD SAYS SHIT ABT THE SPIRITS GETTING READY FOR SOMEONE TO JOIN THEM!!!! BITCH WAHT THE FUCK

THERE’S NOF UCKING WAY THIS ISNT ABOUT BASIL. THERE IS NO!!! WAY!!!! I SWEAR ON GOD IF BASIL DIES I WILL LOSE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ESP CAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO OTHER WAY HE COULD DIE EXCEPT SUICIDE THAT’S WHAT IT HAS BEEN IMPLYING OVER AND OVER I GO NUTS I GO APESHIT NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK

OKAY SORRY I JUST. HHHHHHHHHHH

baby has acquired baby

kel’s family is rlly cute,,,,v heartwarming. i trust them

i do worry abt like...the stark difference between recognizing kel’s accomplishments and hero’s...i just idk. i just keep thinking abt that bit in kel’s story abt hero’s depression when his parents focused on hero and ignored him, and i just. kel’s family is good People but i worry if kel has a good support system...i jus........): i am watching

ahh THE BASIL MISSING PART MADE MY HEART LITERALLY FUCKING DROP..I WAS SO FUCKING PANICKED I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD THIS IS IT BASIL IS DEAD

THANKFULLY HE WASNT BUT HOLY GOD HOW THAT WHOLE SITUATION PANNED OUT MADE ME GO NUTS!!!!!!! BASIL...AUBREY...HER GANG.......FUCK OH M YOGD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

THANK G O D I SNOOPED AROUND KEL’S HOUSE BEFORE LEAVING I WOULD HAVE H A T E D TO FIGHT THEM ALL AT ONCE IM GLAD I WAS ABLE TO JUST PEPPER SPRAY THEM JESUS CHRIST

oh my god kim like asking for aubrey all concerned before deciding to trust her and leaving.....kim i diagnose u with lesbain

the whole fucking. basil almost drowning scene. i seriously feel like ive changed like as a person over it. i am thinking . i am thinking. i am only evee thinking about mari and how omori just loved her so much and how the thought of her gave him strength. th pic of her ghost holding omori’s hand in the water made me cry

MMMM BUT. HERO!!!

I DIE I DIE I DIE HE’S SO PRETTY FUCK ALSO HIM PICKING UP BASIL WOOOOOOOO THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT YEAHHHHHHHH

god i feel so bad about leaving aubrey tho. shes so clearly not okay and she so clearly did not mean to push basil in and oh my GOD I JUST...PLEASE....PLEASE CAN WE JUST TLAK TO HER I NEED TO TLAK TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED TO FUCK

the ghosts of omori and aubrey on the swings made me cry out like i had been physically assaulted

AHH BUT THEN TAKING BASIL HOME AND WHILE HE’S IN HIS BED HE JUST SAYS “oh sunny...there’s not way out of this...is there?” I LITERALLY GO BUCKWILD APESHIT INSANE STUPDI!!!!!! BASIL YOURE PUTTING UP A LOT OF ALARMING FLAGS HERE!!! PLEASE DO NOT FUCKING DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK. CHRIST. HELL. SHIT. THIS GAME IS DRIVING ME FUCKING CRAZY

GOD

oh my god but the day ending with hero and kel sleeping over at omori’s house...im kdnd im jkdim im not uhm okay THEY BUILT A BLANKET FORT PLEASE..I LOVE THEM

goddd hero going into the piano room....playing sum........and then asking omori abt the song he and mari used to play on violin...and then THE TITLE SCREEN MUSIC STARTS PLAYING....HI. HI HELLO HI YOU CANT FUCKIGN DO THAT HI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOUFBJFGJNGN;EJNE; IM GOIGN NUTS

also the name omori comes from the piano.............interesting...i wonder why sunny likes being called omori in the dreamscape...

god but omori not having a srs hallucination cause he’s w his friends and he feels safe...im gonna sob

However. i did glance into the bathroom mirror. AND INSTEAD OF THE EYE MF IT’S A DISTORTED AS HELL GHOST MARI???IM SO FUCKIGN SCARED. IM SO SCARED. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK? CREEPY AS HELL!!!

ohh my god this GAME

so finally i ended up in whitespace again. do NOT like that omori is completely alone in the world!!! what the FUCK!!!!!!!! I AM SO SCARED AT ALL TIMES. im literally about to go play sum more tho after dinner so i will see what happens. god i jsut......this game is so fucking good it has me by the balls dude. SO glad i decided to play it bruh

anyway thanks for reading all of this if u did, it’s an absolute monster ik and ur a real one

#cass cries #omori #omori spoilers #more like cass goes CRAZY this is so long #also id dint proof read this sorry </3

14 notes · View notes

cheseyre · 4 years

Text

good news, sluts! my brain's no longer being completely stupid (only mostly), i've seen the new asides and...have some thought-y thot thoughts:

*deep inhale*

Okay, first things first: this art style is soooo fucking cUTE and I'm a jealous, squealing bitch. Anyone who knows who the artist is, could you link me to them, stat? I think Thomas mentioned them at the beginning of the ep, but nYeh, brain hurt, doesn't wanna do wooork-

Okay, I'll admit, I was a little...apprehensive when I first saw the thumbnail and title. Part of it's just me being a bitter Remus Stan, but also...okay, deep breaths, controversial opinion time, get ready:

I don't ship Prinxiety.

Like, at all.

I can see the appeal, and these dorks were so very, VERY cute in this particular ep, but I was honestly turned off by the ship long ago due to how overwhelmingly popular it is and how some fans characterize these two and treat this relationship as if it's the only valid one, y'know, the works—slight tangent, but that's also why I don't ship Logicality or Remile. I honestly vibe much better with ships like Roceit or Analogical, y'know?

Cutting in for another brief tangent: I'm surprisingly okay with Demus/Dukeceit/Receit/Trashnoodle/Whatever-Their-Ship-Name-Is-Oh-God-Why-Do-They-Have-So-Many-Fucking-Names; maybe it's cause they haven't actually interacted in canon and the fan content gives me such good Gay Disney Villain content, idk man im weird—).

Still, their interactions were both hilarious and sweet and like I said, I see the appeal, it's just not my cup of tea. y'all Prinxiety fans got fucking FED and I'm happy for you nerds. Enjoy ze happy boys!

I guess another factor in my...low-key hesitance when I first saw what the ep was about is that...okay, get ready, another controversial opinion, le gasp: well, I'm not a big Virgil fan. In fact, at times, he swaps places with Patton as my least favorite sides—especially with some of his recent behavior in eps like DWIT (the "prohibit your breathing comment" really triggered me, for example). Sometimes, his attitude, especially around other sides like Roman or Janus, reminds me a little too much of my sister, who I don't have...a very good relationship with. Add to that how the more...intense side of the fandom has a disturbing tendency to turn him into the 'uwu precious woobie emo baby who can do no wrong' while unnecessarily villainizing other CERTAIN sides in the process, and...I think you all see where I'm going with this little rant 😅

However, upon actually watching the ep, he wasn't...that bad? I don't think? I enjoyed watching him be a flustered, disaster-y mess and genuinely excited at the end, his interactions with Roman were nice enough, and him literally pushing Thomas to make a move with Nico despite his obvious panic attack was a nice moment of genuine character development. I like seeing that, that's the good shit right there. And him being all flustered and shit, and smiling so much at the end of the vid was just...well, adorable. This man has no fucking right to be this cute, my god

alsoooo

pURPLE EYESHADOW

PURPLE EYESHADOW HE LOOKS?? SO GOOD?? WTF?? SLAY EMO, SLAAAAAAAY FUCK, DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO CHANGE MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME NOW?

alsoooo

hAPPY ROMAN

YESSSSS~ MAH BOI MAH SON MAH DUMB BITCH HIMBO PRINCE MAH EXTRA MESSY CINNAMON ROLL

ITS BEEN SO LONG

AND HIS LITTLE HEART EYES THROUGHOUT THE VID, OH MY GOD-

IMMA JUST IGNORE THAT "ADDING [MISTAKE] TO THE LIST" COMMENT I AM LOOKING AWAY I DO NOT SEE IT LALALALALA

THOMATHY, SIR, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT MAKING THESE TWO GAY IDIOTS SO BAEBY

Okay, but Virgil not realizing that "cyberstalking in real life" is literally just stalking is both a big ass mood and further proof that, yes, Logan is indeed the only one holding the braincell out of this disaster of a lot. God help them all if he ducks out in the next ep.

👀

And Thomas x Trash Can is my new OTP. I dub thee ✨ "Trashmas" ✨

we sTAN TRASHMAS

Wait, does that mean Remus actually WAS in the ep? Cause, y'know, trash man?

hmmm

👀 👀

Okay, okay.

With how much Virgil and Roman were going off about Thomas constantly lying, I was (understandably) a tad bit disappointed my snek son didn't even make a fucking cameo, but y'know what? In hindsight, I'm okay with this it's fineee~

He was just off playing with shadow puppets and stealing money from us desperate, content-starved peasants with his sheer extra-ness and, honestly? Gotta respect the hustle.

Get that precious, precious coin, dapper snake! Wring us poor losers dryyyy!

*evil snek laugh*

Also, this is a breather ep and adding Janus in probably would've caused unnecessary drama with the Roceit breakup and the constant antagonism between Virgil and him. It probably would've distracted from the point of the ep (flirting with social anxiety, exactly what it says in the tin)—much like it wasn't really Virgil or Remus's place to show up during POF. Does that make sense? I think it makes sense. Sorry, brain going brr-

Still, I can't believe the "Fuck Janus Sanders" Club is actually canon now 😂

God, first Patton in a skirt and now this.

Thomas Sanders, you delight in fucking feEDING this gremlin nest of a fanbase, don’t you? You RELISH our screams of joy and pain and suffering, dON’T YOU?

What's next, actual canonical Janus and Remus interaction? Patton saying the fuck word? The Dragon Witch comes back? Janus's bowler hat gains sentience and takes over the world, Doris-style? What do you have planned, Thomas? Joan? WHAT ART THOU PLANNING, I MUST KNOW YOU HEATHENS YOU FIENDS-

And Virgil's little "would it be fair to him" comment, tho.

👀

Like, I get in the context of the ep, he was likely talking about Nico and how it wouldn’t be good for a potential relationship with Tomas to be founded on lies, but still...my anxceit heart aches, man.

Gimme that sweet, sweet angst with a side of mutual regret and possible future reconciliation and maybe something more wink wink nudge nudge on top, pls

...and fries.

Honestly, tho, that entire bathroom monologue was fucking beautiful, man. And relatable, too—i can't tell you how many times I've talked to myself in public restrooms because I just didn't know how to get the words I wanted to say out. It's...kind of embarrassing, tbh

Speaking of embarrassing, uh, crying stall guy.

Just...

Crying Stall Guy

Like, I was expecting someone to come out the bathroom stall after Thomas stopped talking, but...I honestly wasn't expecting that. God, that whole scene was so cringe worthy and fucking hilarious

Honestly, Thomas in the ep in general was a huge ass mOOD and we collective gay/bi disasters ALL related with him, and if you say you don't, you're either lying to yourself or a demon.

There is no in between

sorry I don't make the rules

Like, I get this series is literally a gay disaster talking to himself for thirty minutes or longer, but like- EMPHASIS on the 'disaster' part 😂

Like...Thomas, you're lucky you're such a goddamn bean, because GOD, I cringing so hard when he first started talking to Nico

Although, I too have apologized profusely for genuine mistakes and am a flustered bi mess around my crush sooo

😅

And god, Roman's "thirty = old man" jokes made me feel old...and I literally just turned twenty, like, come on, man!

Maybe that's because I was literally watching this ep after finishing my ACT and had been sitting with a bunch of high schoolers, with their tiny fucking desks and tiny fucking water fountains smeh

*clears throat*

Anyways, uh, we STAN Nico Pintrovert Florés in this house

He gives me such big Carlos from WTNV vibes for some reason and this makes me sooo happy

and YESS, he's a WRITER

And he's??? So sweet?? A pure bean?? Just sits on his laptop at the mall food court all day, like a god-fucking iCON?? A Nightmare Before Christmas fan?? weARS GLASSES??

my hEART

*cries*

The fandom seems torn between "Nicomas" and "Karrot Kings" as a ship name atm—personally speaking, I'm casting my vote for the latter

*crosses fingers* please dont be another janus x remus multiple ship name issue guys, please please please I can't keep track of them all-

*clears throat*

On that note, I'm guess I'm gonna go try and whoo over my crush with carrots now. If THIS disaster can do it and make it actually fucking work, god damnit, so cAN I

Meanwhile, in hell, my brain's just screaming "CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST-"

God, I hope Nico isn't just a one-shot character, he's too pure and Thomas and him are adorable gay Disney fans and I stan

Oh, I wonder how the other sides'll react to him.

Wait.

Oh god.

This ep just unleashed a new fresh hell of potential Nico x Sides ships, hasn't it?

Welp, time to prepare for ze incoming flood of fanfics, I guess. I'll get my umbrella and rain boots.

That last shot of Virgil during the endcard was so fucking ominous oh my god mom im scared can you come pick me up-

Goddammit, Thomas and Joan, I'm NOT fucking ready to be traumatized again, fUCK

I wish I wasn't a broke ass university student so I could contribute to Thomas's gloriously extra Patreon—both so I can support my favorite content creators who make this amazing blessed content and also, to join my boi Janus in fucking destroying society by giving money to the people who actually deserve it, fuck YOU GOVERNMENT-

Okay.

New headcanon time as to why Patton, Remus, and Logan weren't in the ep: they were helping Jan film that Patreon promotional video.

Remus directed it, Logan helped with the lighting and script, and Patton was just there as the cheerleader.

The reason Janus made a dog with shadow puppets wasn't just to flaunt his deity status and prove how he is truly above us mere wretched mortals

despite that being the absolute truth and we all know it, don't lie to yourselves

No, it was really him trying to do something cute and silly for Patton, because Moceit rights, daMMIT

*inhales*

noww

guys, gals, and nonbinary pals

it’s time forr

the most wonderful time of the yearrr

WAITING FOR THE NEXT EPISODE

Step right up, folks! Hear ye, hear ye, my prediction for the next episode: Prinxiety v. Moceit! With special guest stars: Karrot Kings vibing in adorable gay and Intrulogical, bitter at being excluded aGAIN

Who will win? Who will lose?

here’s a hint: we all will because in this sick twisted game they are no winners only losers-

Place your bets, folks! ✨

Haha im not readyyy~

tl;dr

this episode has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and ended my suffering—an adorable calm before the... angsty fucking shitstorm that’s coming far too soon. Prinxiety stans, enjoy your food. Place an 'F' in the chat for me and my fellow grieving Remus stans. Trashmas is the true OTP, but Karrot Kings is cute too I guess. I've only had Nico Florés for 24 minutes, but if anything happens to him, I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself. Purple eyeshadow Virgil makes me question my sexuality aGAIN, and happy gay disney prince rights y'all. Say a big ole 'fuck you' to capitalism by giving your local dapper snake moneys. Concussion makes brain go brr and imma go buy some carrots and be gay now.

psst hey @quarantinevibes2020 you wanna join me in being disaster-y? i’ll bring my best gay stare and you bring the wine

Until next time, my lovelies! ~ Ches 🖤

25 notes · View notes

sloppy-butcher · 4 years

Text

Angel of Music

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo) x Survivor!Reader

ok so

I’m probably very late to this, like 3 years late, but whatever just hear me out

My smooth brain has been going crazy lately for Phantom of the Opera and i just realized how similar Wraith’s “Angel of Music” cosmetic is to the drama (i mean, i known it is inspired by it but like).

so now with this glorious revelation, me and the monkeys in my head have come up with the brilliant idea to write a Phantom of the Opera inspired Wraith fic. gods speed you funky lil dudes.

note;; this is going to be very OOC for him. I’m am going to model wraith to be more like the phantom he is dressed as, thus expect a more devilish, seductive creature rather than the tree-man we already know. also, he can talk now. maybe sing

literally no one asked for this

word count: 4110

TW: Death and blood. Stalking and obsession. Musicals

This place is an undeniable and indisputable nightmare. An eternal night that twists and corrupts all with shadows and despair. From the repetitive game of cat and mouse that almost always ended in death to the ever-present feeling of eternal damnation, there is absolutely nothing inherently good about the Fog. There wasn’t even light. As if stuck in the haze of an ecstasy-trip, time bleeds into itself seeming to stretch on forever yet also never move an inch. A true paradox.

And to make matters somehow even worse, you had started to hear voices in your head.

It first spoke to you on one of your regular trips into the woods. Scavenging for tools and items that could be used in trials, you hummed to yourself. Oblivious to the world around you, lost to the music playing in your head. It was easier to forget the horrors of the night and give in to the melody of some old song than to ponder on dangers yet to come. You found personal peace in singing, drowning out all your earthly worries by the power of your own imagination. The fog swirled and swelled with the rise and fall of your song and out in the darkness the voice made its presence known. ‘Sing louder.’ You obliged willingly.

Initially, you had chalked it up to your heightened sense of purpose and inner monologue being superimposed so as to form its own being. You would command yourself in third person, detaching and driving your body as your thoughts spoke. Intuition personified. This theory made sense; endless panic often causes those to develop the most peculiar of coping mechanisms. In passing conversations with the other trapped souls you realized that they too had their quirks; one had a rubber band that he snapped on his wrist whenever scared, another rubbed dirty into her palms to stop them from sweating and so on. Unfortunately, you had developed the most bizarre habit out of everyone else. You only started to question the voice’s true intention when its orders became more sinister.

‘Leave him.’ It spoke over your shoulder referring to your teammate dying on hook, an open exit gate before you. ‘Run away.’ It commanded to your half-way through healing another when you spotted the killer fast approaching. All these new and selfish instructions, although ensuring your survival, left you feeling hollow inside. You escaped but at what cost? The lives of your friends. If it really was your true self talking to you then, by default, did that mean you were as evil as the voice was? No! You plead. You were a good person. By God you were human, and the weight of all the death and suffering inflicted by your obedience to the voice began to crush your conscience. You couldn’t even look the others in the eyes anymore.

You couldn’t just ignore the voice either. When it spoke there seemed to be an almost physical force behind it, driving it and giving it momentum. Sometimes it even felt as if someone was standing right behind you reaching out and instructing you with their hand as they whispered in your ear. There was also the fact that you drew strange comfort from the voice. In this desert place, so drained of softness and angry with hate, you depended on what little gentleness the voice offered you.

It even occurred to you that maybe, the voice wasn’t even yours - as in it belonged to someone else entirely. An unknown watcher, a ghost or phantom, who somehow had a deep connection to you, a one-way mode of communication. A large part of you wanted desperately to believe that who were just overreacting and that it was all just in your head. Regardless, you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

For what felt like days now the voice had been uncharacteristically silent. You noticed it in your first ever trial with the killer that could go invisible with the toll of his bell. There was no guidance, no consoling vector to take your hand and help you through your problems. You had been left alone like a new-born chick, blindly searching for the love and warmth of a guardian. Feeling completely lost, the panic that sat on your chest was overwhelming in that trial. But oddly enough, no matter what you did wrong, how many times you blew up a generator or accidentally revealed your position, the killer never disturbed you. You didn’t even see him until the end where, standing in the exit gate looking in on the realm, you spotted the figure. Bright eyes gleamed back, a bloody weapon in his hands. He allowed you a moment longer to gawk at him before ringing his bell and disappearing into the night.

Even after escaping the voice didn’t return. Your ears yearned for the sound of it, hungry for its filling noise. You sat alone at the campfire, eyes staring unblinking into the mesmerizing flames. It was so lonely, the panic and unrest mixing into a dangerous concoction in your head. There was nothing good anymore. Why do you keep on trying? Perhaps it would be better if you just gave in already. You almost jumped out of your skin when, as if manifested by your desperate cry, the voice called.

‘Come.’ It sounded from the treeline, darkness bending and beckoning you into it. It didn’t feel real. Perhaps you were imagining it. ‘Come,’ It said again sensing your hesitation. You looked around at the other survivors none of which appeared to notice the disturbance. You faced the forest again, it opened to you like the mouth of a great fish. Your feet itched to run to it. There was a powerful pull and before long you followed it.

The woods were freezing, broken branches grabbing out as you passed them. Through all these adversaries, pushing past doubts and warranted skepticism, you kept your eyes focused ahead. Even with all the warning flags the voice had given you, the pure desperation you had to find anything even remotely kind lit the fire of will under your feet. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? You were dead either way. The trees swayed and whined as a tired wind blew through their crumbling leaves, oddly not even making a noise. As the voice continued to call, luring you away from the safety of other people and fire, you spotted something ahead of you. There just through the fog, like a lighthouse over a raging sea, was a light. It bobbed and sway and wondered away from you through the trees. It was hypnotizing to watch the light flicker deeper into the trees, your feet not needing motivation to follow.

The light and voice mingled in your head, overwhelming every sense until it felt like you were walking through a dream. Your pace was sluggish and sloppy, you couldn’t feel the ground anymore. Just as it seemed you’d never catch up to the light, it suddenly stopped, blinked a few times then popped out of existence. You went to its last location, looking around for any possible signs of anything to help you but instead found yourself completely surrounded by an all impressive mist. It danced through the trees creating unbreakable walls of wood and water. It felt wrong to be here, your head spin around for an exit which came to you in the form of an out-of-place stone archway.

The bright yellow of the stone contrasted brilliantly against the somber atmosphere it lived in. Your mind wasn’t your own as you unknowingly went to it. Beyond the mouth of madness lay a beast in wait, purring as he felt your impending arrival. Eagerness overtook him and slowly the wooden door creaked open to welcome you inside. The tunnel that lay behind was one lit by old candles tinting the world with a much-appreciated golden light. It stretched on for miles, leading down into the earth where, at the bottom drifting up to you like a breeze in a cave, the voice beckoned.

‘Come.’ You stepped inside. ‘Come to me.’ If, by some strange miracle, you could have stopped yourself for a brief moment from descending the tunnel, you might have noticed the voice’s odd word choice. You might have even noticed the person on the other end licking his lips and smiling. Walking as if through honey, you unhurriedly made your way to the yearning voice. Before long the warm light that had bathed you drew back its loving embrace and faded back to absolute darkness.

At the edge of the last candles reach was a room - so large and empty of light that it appeared to have no roof, no walls, no end. You couldn’t help but feel like you had walked into the lair, the most secret and quiet place, of a monster. You couldn't shake the feeling that you had passed the point of no return. The artificial night swallowed you whole; your eyes strained in the pitch black, your ears burning from the total silence save for your own beating heart. The shadows inspected you, looking you up and down while you were none the wiser. His eyes also ate you up, so pleased to have you alone that he let the moment slip into an uncomfortable length.

You wanted to speak, make your claim against whatever had brought you here. You could sense something out there just outside of your already limited view. But the silence held you tight in its suffocating grasp. You dared not even breath. You had to wait for him to make the first move.

“Bravo.” The voice called from somewhere behind you, startling you to the point of drawing a gasp. “Bravo! Bravissimo!” Someone started to clap. You could hear him stepping around you, his voice echoing endlessly around the room, impossibly loud and booming. Although there was something deeply unsettling about the voice, the only thing you could take from it was odd comfort. It was real. A person. A guardian Angel! You spun around on your heels desperate to see the source of your guidance however he managed to remain hidden in shadow. You swear you could hear him grin at your confusion.

“You listen well, my dear.” There was no denying it, it was the voice. Although only now, when it spoke so openly, did you notice that it was inherently male. So relieved with the news that you weren’t going completely mad with disembodied voices, you glazed over the other implications this reveal came with. If it wasn’t yourself than just who have you been talking to all this time? And, the more pressing matter, just who were you stuck with in the room.

The stranger claps again and moves around in the black, shuffling from one side of the room to the other and at times seeming to even be above you, looking down. “I am beyond impressed my dear.” The stranger smiled, unbeknownst to you getting closer with very advance. “Do you know where you are?” No reply. Honestly you had no clue. You had never been in this place before - it felt so detached, so different when compared to all the other realms you had grown accustomed to in the Fog.

“Hell.” The voice answered, purring like a cat with a trapped mouse, teasing it - relishing off its fear. “The deepest pit. And, what’s more, you came here all on your own free-will.” He moved again not content to stay in one spot for too long, trying to view you from every possible angle before he made his last move.

“Won’t you sing for me. My Angel of music. You know the one I mean.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks. A song? As you wracked your brain for whatever he could be referring to, a faint idea began to materialize right in the tip of your tongue. Words of a melody that you swear you had never heard before but still feel familiar with in your heart. The voice, it sang to you. How could you forget!

“Every night I was there. Whispering my song to you in hopes that one day, you could join in with me.” That was true. Each time you dared to drift off to sleep, the voice would appear. He sang to you, gently and softly, talking into your ear to lull you safely away - only to wake hours later with no memory of the night before. Perhaps that is why you were always so attached to the voice, why its absence impacted you so deeply. There was a build of pressure behind you and suddenly he was there. The stranger towered over you without even looking, his chest pressed tight to your back. Exploring hands went down your arms and slowly brought them up like the two of you were about to start a dance. His head hung low to your ear, his breathing touching your exposed neck. He sucked in and exhaled meaningfully, taking in your smell and touch and your reaction to his closeness.

“Sing.” God, his voice was so smooth, demanding and rich. A sonorous tone that had never been shown to you before this. It shocked you to your core. He sighed again, one hand moving to caress your neck with the other holding your own hand. “Sing my Angel.” Up till now you were passive, sitting ideally in a dream-state as you let the stranger do as he wished. But now you wanted answers.

“Let me see you.” No answer came from the man be it verbal or physical. He remained completely unphased and unchanging.

“Sing.” He commanded again, no anger or annoyance in his tone only patience and hunger. He yearned for you to sing with him, to join in with his symphony. For too long has he gone silent, his soul dying along with his music. The bells no longer tolling and his music fading out like a lit match in the rain. When he found you, fallen like an angel right out of Heaven, humming alone to yourself, he felt the fire of passion ignite within him. You were perfect to him and now, you couldn’t resist him. You were defenseless, night having accustomed you to its unfurling beauty to the point that you were addicted to it – needed it, just as he did. There was no way either of you could go back now. You breathed into him, your nose filling with the smell of pine and smoke, and hesitantly after closing your eyes, you began to sing the words now burning hot in your head.

“Say you’ll share with me,” It wasn’t really singing, rather just breathless talking – a whisper that only the keenest of ears could hear. Regardless of what you sounded like; the stranger cherished every word that left your mouth. He started to shake, his hands holding on to you for support.

“One love, one lifetime.” He joined you now, singing as you did in a volume that only you could truly appreciate. His raspy, low-pitched voice mingling wonderfully with yours, sounding almost desperate to get the words out. Lips grazed your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“Say the word,” His hands tightened their grip as if to empathize his lyrics. “And I will follow you.”

“Say you love me.” Your combined voices bounced around the darkness stirring whatever creatures lay in hiding, your harmony compelling and immensely sorrowful. While a part of you faded into the song’s words, swaying and melting with the stranger content for once, something crawled into your head. The song was ending, and while you wished to stay forever in this blissful embrace, you demanded to know the face behind the voice. Your moment was coming.

“That’s all I ask of -” Slipping out his grasp at the moments climax, you spin around to finally lay your eyes on the stranger. He froze under your gaze, surprised by your sudden action. Looking up at an incredibly tall man, you felt your knees threaten to give out. Staring back were the glowing eyes of a killer, the very one that had, not long ago, tormented your friends. You couldn’t help but gasp and step away from him, breaking his hold on you. You inspected him as best you could in your lack of light, squinting your eyes as hard as you could but nothing in the darkness made itself known to you save for his unmistakable eyes. The stranger noticed your efforts and, fuming at your defiance to play along with him, raised a hand.

“You wish to disobey me? Fine!” The ground shook under foot, his shouting voice ricocheting off the rooms stone walls and sending the world into disarray. “Look at me Angel! In all my glory!” He snapped his fingers.

Suddenly your senses were overwhelmed by blinding white light. You flinched, shutting your eyes to the dramatic change in the room. When next you opened then you found the room to be hazed in familiar yellow candlelight. As if by magic, all candles had all be simultaneously lit. Your attention darted around like a trapped bird before resting on the man standing in front of you, his arms open and expression unreadable. Bathed in new light you could see him in immaculate detail.

Yes, it was the invisible killer, no doubt about it. But something was off about him. He looked different somehow; maybe it was his prim suit, navy fabric decorated with golden lace that fit his slender body snugly giving him a sense of proper and divinity. Behind him hung an extraordinary cape that fluttered in a non-existent breeze. On his face sat a white mask, crooked and dirtied from years of neglect which, in all honesty, covered little to none of his truly disfigured and burnt flesh.

Unparalleled fear began to rise in your chest. He was so tall, powerful and strange that it terrified you to be standing next to him. You stepped backwards, edging closer to the exit. The stranger’s eyes flickered. How could you fear him? He had never hurt you, Angel. All he has ever wanted was to be by your side, to never be lonely in the dark again. He has given you no reason to distrust him, he has never shown you his monstrous side. Yet still you shrunk away from his touch, choosing rather silent suffering than a lifetime of music with him. He felt something break inside him.

You saw his hand twitch, his off-center head bobbing as his labored breathing intensified. He took a small step forward and you replied by taking a large one back. He halted and so did you. Next to the broken thing that rattled around in his bones, he heard something else. A beating heart, weak and faint but somehow still alive. It moved and leaped, reaching out for you to take it and hold. Just standing in your company he heard music start to swell in his ears. You had listened to him once before, maybe he could get you to again.

The stranger's head dropped; through the lumpy cape you saw his shoulders deflate. What was he doing? Playing possum so as to catch you off guard? Whatever it was, you didn’t let the tension ease out your legs. You waited for his next move, ready to run if he tried anything suspicious. You didn't expect the sound of his voice to suddenly start singing again.

“Say you’ll share with me,” He sang his solo, his voice that of an airy murmur as if afraid to sing alone. Every word he sang clung to your ears, kissing your heart and mind with a complex sorrow. Your guard started to halter.

“One love. One lifetime.” He paused, swallowing the lump building in his throat warning to overflow and render him speechless.

“Lead me,” He raised a cautious eye to find you still waiting, offering him the chance to try coax you closer. A fist clutched his chest in an attempt to sooth his aching heart. “Save me from my solitude.” He was certain he was crying but he couldn’t feel the tears; you had his undivided attention.

“Say you want me here...” He faltered here, hand itching to reach out and grab you. “Beside you.” The stranger could barely form audible words anymore, so slurred and choked up that you unknowingly leaned forward to try hear him better.

“Anywhere you go,” He tried again, begging you to close the distance and join him. It was heartbreaking, this phantom, this person and the way he sang to you, each syllable dripping with an ocean of unimaginable pain and beastly hopelessness. It was infectious really; you could feel his sadness take over your heart shaking it in an iron grasp. Miserable eyes glared you down as you took the smallest step forward. “Let me go too.”

He didn’t continue - he couldn’t. The horrors of the whispering darkness and this god-awful place left him near-drained. Everything pushed down on him, suffocating him until he thought he was going to pass out. He could only keep his eyes on you. Blurry from tears he held onto your figure like your were a buoy in a raging sea, his only safety, his air. The stranger heaved from trying to maintain his composure. Finally the curtain fell and you gave in.

Your foot falls were the only sounds that broke the silence in the room. You approached him with little to no conflict in your mind. Yes - he was scary. Yes - he was a monster. But the way he looked at you now, the way he sang and spoke; no killer would beg to be loved the way he did. It was like he was afraid of the dark, of being alone, of being condemned to an existence of pitiful silence. You craned your neck to look up at him, sucking back the wreckage still wavering just outside his control.

“Pitiful creature of darkness,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, through teeth unfazed by their possible repercussion. You were speaking from your heart. A small hand connects with his unmasked cheek taking in the feeling of old, burnt skin and years of mud. He leans into your warm embracing having forgotten what it was like. “You are not alone.”

Even on tip-toes you still were short of his lips. It was only when he gave in and leaned down that you were able to kiss him. Eyes closed, shoulders tensing, you melted into the kiss. His lips were rough, chapped, but gentle. He didn’t give anymore pressure until you asked for him, dragging you tongue along his bottom lip asking for entrance. He opened to you gratefully. Inside his mouth housed monstrous sharp teeth and an excited tongue and moved inside your mouth, tasting ever inch of you. He was greedy, demanding everything of yours. When you had nothing more to give, he relented and let you go.

You sank back on your heels gasping for breath. You noticed he was smiling, an odd sight of such a distorted and sad face.

“My Angel. My Muse.” You felt him move on top of you, a hand sneaking behind your back making to bend over so as not be pressed uncomfortably against his chest. “I have many names of which to call you. I am eager to use them all.” He laughed, the sound rattling your whole body with its bass leaving you quivering. “But you, can call me Philip.” He tilted his head in a mock bow, his free hand grabbing the edge of his cape and fanning it out in respect. You offered you own meek nod. His smile only widened at your compliance.

“Come now,” Philip said standing up to his full height, his hand still securing your back. “Let me take you away. Away from all this numb light and into the darkness where no one will find us.” He raised his arm and cape and quickly brought it down around you, sweeping it around the both of your until he had you cocooned.

The world fell into black again and all you could sense was him; his breathing, his reinforced arms cradling you. You could also hear a faint thumping when you put your ear to his chest - his heart. Once diseased and weak now pumped with vigor and delight. He had you in his grasp and he was never letting you go. You were his everything; his Angel of music.

#i spent so long on this #i have a serious addiction to poto now #poto is phantom of the opera if ya didn't know #im sorry if this is cringe #i just needed it #dbd imagines #dbd writings #dbd the wraith #dbd philp ojomo #dbd the wraith x reader #dbd philip ojomo x reader #dbd x reader

39 notes · View notes

cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

To Catch A Winchester.

Pairing: Demon!Reader x Evil. Dean x Pie. Warnings: Demon!Reader likes bad things. The first scene is, like, kind of evil. Killing people and such. Also complete demon crack. Word Count: 3,056. Prompt: This post. A/N: I don’t have a good excuse for this. I made this gif and loved it so much I wanted to write something and it’s terrible. But mainly I need y’all to tell me how much you love this gif I made because I have watched it a thousand times.

Ao3 if your prefer

You’re reminded of that old show Madeline.

With lightning slicing through the night—occasionally illuminating the pews as you wandered through the church—here you are with your very own version.

Twelve little nuns lined up in a row. Slit their throats and a seal will blow!

A holy river of blood from steeple to sanctuary. A fancy way of saying bathe a church in blood, holy blood at that. It was such a delectable prospect you’d practically begged for the opportunity.

They’re tied up in the pews and you take them one by one. Each nun only goes so far. A couple killed in the tower, the belfry, a few in the lantern. The only problem is there’s one that won’t stop talking. On and on about how you could be saved, it wasn’t too late. How God still loves you. After your third trip down the stairs for your next victim, you’d gone as far as landing a punch to her ancient jaw. The way her bones had cracked under your hand was lovely.

She’d looked like she’d almost died. Beautiful, knocked the wind right out of her until she catches her breath and tells you. “You catch more flies with honey.”

Coming from a super-nun aside you like that turn of phrase. You lock it away in the back of your head for a rainy day, it’ll come in handy you think.

Then finally you take Sister Mary-won’t-shut-up to the bottom of the spire, climbing out into the humid night. It had rained but it’s stopped. The wet surface of the building, with your crimson additions, makes for a very pretty, glossy sight. Reflective even in the darkness. Really does look like an entire river when actually it’s only twelve dead nuns.

Eleven, you suppose. You’re about to kill number twelve. A flick of your wrist and she whizzes to the top while you climb, a knife between your teeth and the inky black of your eyes saying more than the mouth of your meat suit ever could.

Demons can’t be saved. God doesn’t love me. Lucifer does.

You’re straddling the cross at the top of the church, because why the hell not, while you drain her now limp body. Thunder booms and another strike of lightning reveals the outcome of your efforts. You wish you could take a fucking picture. This is what most demons are missing, some goddamn artistic vision. This church covered in holy blood was your hellish Mona Lisa.

After the seal’s break and Lucifer rises you had arrogantly assumed that evil and shadow would finally rule the Earth. Couldn’t heaven give it up and accept defeat already?

Now, it’s a whole new ballgame. The Winchesters are to be meat suits. Lucifer actually wants to wear one of them. Even Michael the dickless could do better. Although it wasn’t your place to say that, ever, unless you wanted to become a sacrifice to the demon blood cause when the time comes. Which, you didn’t. Things were more fun top side. There are only so many hundreds of years you can torture people in hell before it becomes repetitive.

You’ve fought on Earth for the cause for decades now, and you have no intention of stopping. Everyone has their part to play. Unfortunately, a big part of yours was breaking seals. You were fucking great at breaking seals because it required one of your best skills; creativity. So, you’re turning that creativity to something else. Hunting down Michael’s sword. Hell’s most wanted.

Dean Winchester.

Which leads you to Canton. Although technically you’d started in Cleveland. You’d caught wind of that stupid car they drive and followed them. Dumbasses the pair of them.

Whatever. Not the point. Nobody needs these boys for their brains, it's what's in their blood. The point is you’re in Canton now, so are they. They’re trying to stop some people dying because, disgustingly, that’s what they do with their limited time left on Earth.

See, here’s where you’re taking a slightly different approach. Most of your fellow black-eyed friends would go in swinging, throw them against a wall like all the demons who have failed to take them down before. Sometimes demons are so... so… obvious.

Not you. In all the time you’ve been up here you’ve had time to be bored. There are only so many missions and murders to commit. Even sex has grown tiresome. Humans are weak and none of them like pain as much as they claim to. Pathetic. So, you’re creative and you’re bored, and that’s how you learned patience.

It’s not enough to catch them in a moment of weakness. Those moments don’t last. They’re downward blips with quick recoveries, the Winchesters have impressive rebound rates and a knack for getting out of trouble. You need to focus on their weaknesses, those two extra letters make a huge difference.

You needed to find out what would bring them down and stay down. Or Dean at least. Figure out Dean’s vulnerability. Because Sam has some sort of loathsome bond with his big brother, enough that he’s given up on demon blood—for the time being. It won’t be enough to hurt Dean, you’ve got to split them up.

Which is how you end up in a bar, playing with the plastic cocktail stirrer between your fingers. The old fashioned the bartender made you is passable at best, no one has made you a good once since prohibition. Across the room is Dean Winchester knocking back beers like they’re going out of style.

This was going to be a time-consuming project it seems, how much could you really learn watching him like this? Clearly he’s an alcoholic but that’s not something that's helpful.

After the fourth beer, after he’s patted his empty glass at the pretty little tap whore, is when it happens. He looks up. Not at you directly, just up. His nostrils flare and you’re convinced that he’s smelt you. They may be dumb humans but they know about demons. You don’t freeze in fear for your life or anything, you didn’t want to give up this meat suit is all, she’s pretty enough to get free drinks most places.

The spell breaks when his phone rings before he has a chance to scan the room and lock eyes with you. You take a long drag of your drink, enough to empty the glass before you use the opportunity to escape. He’s turned his back to answer and you’ve seen all you need to see for now.

It’s a good thing you’re so patient or you might have fucked that up.

There’s something powerful in Nebraska. You can taste the cackle of demon in the air as soon as you arrive a few hours after Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber. The only thing you can think is, whoever it is better not waste your time. The Winchesters are officially yours and nobody will be taking them from you. Nobody else knows that and actually, you aren’t all that focused on Sam. Sam is Lucifers and you aren’t stupid enough to come between that. But, Dean?

Dean, you were looking forward to getting your hands on. The man has been to hell already and when you caught him and took him back with a bow on…? Oh, you would so enjoy breaking him. Again.

Until that blessed day, you slink around after them. Being subtle in the way you plot and scheme. So, yes, whatever demon is in Nebraska needs to stay away from your side mission that has become your sole focus.

You were project managing this bitch and you weren’t looking to delegate.

Ignoring the powerful thing in Nebraska, the town is wonderfully insane. People scratching their own brains out or that guy who ended up with square eyes from watching TV too long. Even the stuff that isn’t life-threatening is so fun that you have to respect the game.

You had no idea that the thing you could feel was him. The antichrist. You were an idiot.

The demon trying to get him goes in guns blazing, obviously, and the kid destroys him. Absolutely casts him out. Not just out of that meat suit of a mother, out of existence. And you’re watching the whole thing from across the street like a creep. You’re about to go in because you need that kid. Lucifer needs that kid. More than you need Dean. Enough to blow your cover but before you can, he’s gone.

The power disappears from Nebraska like it’s been sucked off the face of the planet. As much as it is a shame you can't say you're upset. Now you get to carry on your game.

The hotel is the sort of place you’d love to burn to the ground. It would look fantastic lit up in yellow and orange.

When you first step foot in the place nothing makes sense. Not the hundred wannabe Winchesters or the fact that there are humans walking around pretending to be demons. You don’t like being confused. You were supposed to be getting somewhere and now it’s like being back at square one.

After your initial shock, you actually want to test this out so you sit there in your pretty new meat suit and flick your eyes onyx. Some idiot next to you has the audacity to lean over and compliment your Ruby costume.

As if you would be caught dead calling yourself Ruby. Your fingers itch to snap his neck for the fun of it and you almost do. You only resist because you picked up your new skin a few days ago and there isn’t anyone that you can see who would be a suitable replacement.

Everyone piles into the conference room for some sort of announcement, eventually, leaving you in the hotel bar to figure things out.

There are books. How did no-one in hell talk about this? Everyone is obsessed with finding those boys and nobody thought to do the research. That’s the problem with demons these days, new evil, it’s all so rushed. Sometimes a lighter touch is required.

You steal copies from a stand while everyone is cheering about something in the other room. This follow the Winchesters crap is making you soft because that act of defiance alone makes your meat suit tingle. You should be concerned about that. Except only doing a light skim of the pages, you have a veritable bullet-pointed list of ways to make Dean Winchester cry. So, you’re still getting somewhere.

Hours later you’re in the car you stole along with this body and you see a word in the books, so innocuous that it shouldn’t stand out to you. Pie.

You remember that nun then, must have been more than a year ago. You remember that sentence you tucked away for a rainy day. Maybe you’re weakened by remembering how good it felt to break a seal that night. Maybe that memory makes you weak for the words she’d said after you felt her jaw crack.

You catch more flies with honey.

Most humans would call it a beautiful Sunday morning. Sweet Lucifer, crap like that made you sick.

It’s the perfect cover though. Nothing bad happens on Sunday mornings.

They’ve been staying in this bumfuck nowhere town outside of Phoenix because they escaped from a mental hospital or something. The ‘or something’ is probably pretty relevant but you don't care, not really, not unless it helps you.

If their guards are down, sure, it’ll help you out, if not, that was fine too. You’ve got the perfect plan anyway.

You watch Dean leave the motel they’re in looking, surly? Doesn’t matter, the fact is he’s alone. His face is explained when he stops in a diner to get coffee. He's tired. You’d been following him on foot till now because it’s easier to keep you distance walking around town, he won’t be in town much longer though.

You’ve been setting this up for days, weeks actually, but in this town; days. The plan has been in motion for a while you'd only been waiting for them to settle down for a few and finally, they did.

The woman behind the counter of the diner is named Glenda. Glenda is the sweetest little old lady this side of creation. Or at least that’s what you’d told her the last time you went in. You’ve been speaking to her every day, laying the foundation, taking the time to become her friend. It would be exhausting if you ever got exhausted.

Glenda has been telling anyone in a 30-mile radius about the pie truck that’s pulled up on the old Applewood farm, run by a ‘sweet young thing’. You run the best traveling bakery in the country, your mama taught you everything you know. You’ve been supplying the diner all week.

And now she’s telling Dean.

“Oh yes,” you can see Glenda nodding enthusiastically through the large windows. “All the pie we’ve had all week came from that truck. Apparently, she has a big setup for today and then she’s moving on.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up.

Perfect.

You jump into the car you’re using this week and wait the three minutes it takes for him to come sauntering out like the cat that got the damn cream. This idiot thinks he’s getting pie. Well, there is pie. You couldn’t lure him without having the pie. There’s also a trap is all.

It’s nice to follow Dean out to the farm, it’s nice because you know it’ll be the last time you have to follow his stupid car. After today you were cashing out.

Hayley is standing at the pie stand. You couldn’t be there obviously. Dean wouldn’t want a side of sulfur with his cherry pie. Hayley is a local you hired when you came into town. She’s more than happy to do everything for you, for the amount you’re paying her. You blame this whole 'catching with honey' schtick because you’re actually paying her too. You’d need to kill a whole mess of children after this to get the nice off of you.

Or breaking Dean might get you back to your brilliant, evil self.

He pulls up and his crapmobile bounces on its suspension with the same excitement he jumps out of the car with. Yes, you would enjoy making him pay for the months you’ve spent on this project.

Dean is so pleased as fucking punch to get a pie he doesn’t even notice your car crawling along the dirt path and parking some ways behind him.

The key here is the sign that says Try Our Award Winning Cherry Pie. It is award-winning. The bakery the pie actually came from won a gold star or some shit. You didn’t pay attention to the ins and outs, only that the pie looked perfect. That’s what you need, him to want that pie.

He does. The son of a bitch sees it and he grins. Points at the sign. He’s practically giddy.

Hayley nods to the second table, there’s only one left. You hadn’t planned that part. She must have had some customers already this morning. Glenda and her big mouth.

He takes a step towards it and you get out of your car. Another step and you start walking. A third and you pick up your pace.

He takes that last step, plants one foot in front of the table, and reaches out for the pie. Unlucky for him you’re sprinting to catch up and with a flick of your wrist, the table jumps back. The pie is in his hands so that’s fine, that’s safe, but now there’s a little space in front of him. Everything happens quickly. His second foot tries to catch up with his first except there’s no floor beneath him. The cloth mat the table had been sitting on falls away, supported by nothing.

You can’t help the laugh that comes out of you when he growls, “what the fuck?” before disappearing.

Hayley screams, whether at the table moving or the trap her customer falls into, it’s delightful. Fuck you missed hearing someone scream. Bloodcurdling and scared, it's a whole meal for your ears.

“Run home Hayley. Tell anyone about this and I’ll find you and kill you. ‘Kay?” She nods, tears starting to roll over her cheeks. She runs, as fast as she can, in such a hurry to leave she forgets her bike. If you remember later you’ll kill her anyway because damn is it nice to be back.

You have a Winchester to deal with first though.

The hole is 15 foot. You figured that would be enough to capture the 6-foot ape without him getting away.

You stand at the edge of the hole and look down. You almost laugh at the sight. Dean is standing in the bottom of this pit, the mat beneath his feet and the pie still in his hands. He's scuffed a little but the pie is perfectly intact. Damn, if you had a heart you'd say he deserves the pie.

You don't laugh though. It's time to put on your game face which means hands on your thighs as you lean over and stare down at him all-black eyes and satisfied smiles.

"Hi, Dean. A little birdie told me you like pie and I had the most, delicious, idea. Whatdy'a think?"

He looks equal parts stoic and mad, which is adorable. "Since when did you bitches get into baking?"

"What else are we gonna use all that fire and brimstone for?"

"Alright. What's the big plan then?"

His eyes don't leave yours, his hands still holding the pie as if it will save him. Somehow what you're about to do feels as wicked as painting that church.

You wave your hand and he slams into the dirt wall of his captivity. The pie falls to the floor, top first, his boot lands smashes into it.

"We're going on a road trip. Don't worry you won't need that where you're going."

By 'that' you mean the pie and by 'where' you mean the trunk of your stolen car.

Once this was all over you were going to teach fucking seminars on catching Winchesters. Because nobody does it better.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @erins-culinary-service @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18

26 notes · View notes

animetrashlord-007 · 4 years

Text

M.I;; Chapter Four

Word Count;; 3k

Genre;; Fluff, Suggestive, Eventual Smut, Slowburn

Pairing;; Oikawa x Ushijima

Side Pairing;; Kuroo x Sugawara

Summary;;

Them boys go for a jog.

Published;; 07.29.17

Notes;;

My Masterlist

Mutual Interests Masterlist

“So how did practice go?” Suga asked, twirling a strand of his silver hair with his pointer finger as he gazed at the ceiling.

When he received no immediate response, Suga peered at each of his comrades. Ushijima had his textbook open but his attention was far from the words on the page. His eyes were hazy as he looked out the window, observing two students outside playing with a frisbee. Unlike Ushijima, Oikawa and Kuroo weren't even pretending to study. Kuroo’s legs were spread out to the side of his chair and his head was tilted back as he emitted a constant, low groan. Oikawa sat between his fellow volleyball players and across from Suga. Lifting his head from its resting spot on the table, he stared at Suga. It might have been considered a glare had his eyes been more fiery and less deadpan.

“That good, huh?” Suga jeered, earning simultaneous grunts from each of the men.

They all fell into silence as they stared into the distance. Suga was the first to yawn, creating a chain reaction and within seconds the whole group was yawning. They were weary after their first volleyball practice. Once they were chosen and accepted onto the team, the coach informed them that they would be meeting every day without fail and needed to be doing their own individual training regimen on top of team practice. While they were all in great shape, they weren't expecting such a gruelling set of exercises on the first day and they were exhausted.

Pushing themselves away from the table and slumping in their chairs, they began to sprawl out and get comfortable. Minutes passed and the boys started to doze off. Kuroo started snoring, gaining the attention of the other students in the library. Ushijima’s head bobbed up and down as he tried to fight off his drowsiness, opening his eyes every few seconds only to have them close once more as he drifted back to sleep. It wasn't until Oikawa’s head dropped onto the table and Suga began to cackle, unable to feign his fatigue any longer, that the librarian stormed over to their table. Slamming his hand against the wooden surface with a thunderous smack, he glowered at each of the boys as their eyes jolted open and they straightened themselves in their chairs.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. This is a library, not your bedroom. If you wish to sleep, go elsewhere,” he snapped at them, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Please forgive us! It won't happen again,” Oikawa said as he rubbed the reddening mark on his forehead.

“It better not,” he sighed, turning away from the group and glaring at the other students that were now snickering. Silence once again engulfed the room as he stomped back to his desk in the center of the library.

“I'm so worn out,” Oikawa whined once the hum of quiet chatter echoed throughout the room again.

“I can't even keep my eyes open. I need a nap,” Kuroo groaned as he stretched his legs under the table, kicking aside a pair of feet that got in his way.

“Stop that! Keep your legs in your own area!”

“It's not my fault my legs are so long, Oikawa-san. I need extra room.”

“You're just doing it to piss me off!”

Kuroo chuckled as he lowered himself down into his chair, pushing his legs further into Oikawa’s space. He grinned when Oikawa tried to nudge his feet back over to his side. They began to wrestle, their legs entwining and interlocking as they fought for the extra legroom. Kicking at one another, the table began to shake and tremble. The sound of their knees bumping the wooden underside of the desk resonated throughout the room. The librarian shot them a glare, which they ignored as they continued to battle.

Ushijima raised a curious brow while Suga rolled his eyes at the display. Neither spoke up, however, as the table continued to rock. This continued for several minutes until Kuroo pushed Oikawa and his chair away from the desk. Scowling, Oikawa stood up and stretched. He had an unpleasant aura surrounding him as he dipped down to touch his toes. Pulling his arm behind his back, he began to mutter under his breath about Kuroo’s smug smile and overall bad attitude. He wiggled his entire body to loosen his muscles for a solid minute before addressing the study group.

“I'm going for a jog! Who wants to come with me?”

“I'll go,” Ushijima said, packing his materials away.

“Suga?”

“Sorry, Oikawa-san, but I have class.” Suga gave him an apologetic smile.

“And I'm way too tired,” Kuroo piped in, yawning for added effect.

“Well no one asked you, Kuroo-chan!”

“You're so rude!”

“Don't worry, Oikawa-san, Ushijima-san will keep you company,” Suga spoke up, interrupting the brewing disagreement.

“Whatever, let's just go, Ushiwaka.”

“You guys are swinging by the dorms, right? Can you take my stuff back?”

“Of course, Kuroo-san.”

“Take your own damn stuff, you lazy ass!” Oikawa snapped, still vexed from their skirmish.

Kuroo and Suga exchanged glances as the brunet grabbed Ushijima’s arm close to his chest, pulling him away from the table. He maintained his grip on the ace’s arm, cradling the limb to his body until they were halfway back to the dorms. Realising what he was doing, Oikawa released Ushijima and uttered an apology. His cheeks burned as he averted his gaze from the taller male. They walked in silence, his embarrassment festering until it reached its peak and overcame him. Oikawa darted down the nearest hallway, eager to ditch his companion. Ushijima stared after him in confusion, tilting his head as the chocolate-haired male faced him with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“It's a shortcut! Meet at my room!”

It wasn't a shortcut. Oikawa didn't even know this hallway existed. It was dingy and creepy with the kind of atmosphere you would see in a horror movie. The lights began to flicker. He thought he could hear moaning coming from every direction. There seemed to be no end in sight and he could no longer see where he had entered this hallway of doom. None of the classroom doors would open. They didn't have names or numbers or any papers on them at all. Everything was identical and blank. No longer could he hear the sounds of daily life and exuberant students; all he could hear was the deafening silence.

That was, at least, until a set of footsteps began to follow him. They matched his pace, quickening whenever he sped up. Oikawa didn't dare look back for fear of what might be lurking in the shadows. He broke into a run, but so did his pursuer. A cold sweat covered his body as he raced forward.

At last he could see the light - the end of the hallway was near. He just had to beat the footsteps that were hot on his tail. Oikawa shuddered. He could feel a presence right behind him. It was reaching for him, he just knew it. The exit shone before him like a beacon of hope. Brushing aside how weird he would look, he ducked down and performed a combat roll to cross the last few metres before jumping to his feet. With an enthusiastic grunt, he kicked open the door and somersaulted through it.

He had made it. Landing on his feet, he swiveled around to leer back at the hell dimension he had somehow entered. The lights were dim but he could see a figure approaching the door. Throwing his arms up in a defensive pose, he awaited his stalker. Oikawa shrieked upon seeing the evil fiend as it strolled up to him.

“Bakatoshi!”

“Oikawa-san, you look pale,” Ushijima murmured as he placed the back of his hand against the setter’s forehead. “A bit warm, too.”

“What the hell are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me!”

“You said it was a shortcut. Our dorms are pretty close to each other’s. It made sense to follow. Are you feeling well? You were acting weird back there.”

“I'm fine! Stop that!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Would you like me to carry your bags for you?”

“No!” Oikawa paused to consider the offer, eyes shifting from side to side. This hall was quiet and had only a few people scattered here and there, most of them too engrossed within their schoolwork to notice the pair. His little acrobatic stunt had caused him to pull a muscle in his back. It would be beneficial to accept Ushijima’s offer, even if he despised the idea of the ace assisting him. With pursed lips, he continued, “Fine, go ahead.”

“I was worried you might have hurt yourself.”

“Have more faith in me, Ushiwaka!”

Dumping his bags onto Ushijima, Oikawa gave him a pat on shoulder. While he didn't like Ushijima, Oikawa couldn't deny that he was a decent guy. Not wanting another awkward encounter, Oikawa walked ahead of his companion the entire journey to their dorm rooms. His ‘shortcut’ had added an additional thirty minutes to the trip and required a call to Student Services to help them find their bearings. Oikawa was grateful for Ushijima’s silence on the matter.

They reached Ushijima’s dorm first. To their surprise, Kuroo wasn't in the room. Oikawa took his bags back and headed to his own room. Suga wasn't there so putting two and two together, he deduced that they were still in the library. Oikawa sighed in relief; he didn't want to deal with Kuroo’s sass or Suga’s jubilance. Tossing his book bag and his sports bag onto the floor, he flopped onto the bed.

“Stupid Wakatoshi,” he groaned out loud as he massaged the small of his back.

Several minutes passed as he wrestled with his inner thoughts. He didn't want to go jogging any longer but he also didn't want to admit he had hurt himself. Resisting the urge to crawl under the covers and fall asleep, Oikawa pushed himself off the bed. He had wasted enough time already. So much time, in fact, that he decided to get changed in his room rather than the bathrooms. He was willing to risk Suga walking in on him if it meant regaining a few of the minutes he had lost in that cursed hallway.

Shedding the clothes he had worn for the majority of the day and tossing them in his hamper, he grabbed his athletic wear (which consisted of a black tank top and blue shorts) and laid them out on the bed. He was standing in just his boxers when the door swung open and a deep voice called out for him. The voice was much too low to belong to Suga. Oikawa had a pretty decent idea who it was. It was always him.

Spinning around on his heels, Oikawa turned to the intruder as they spoke, “Oikawa-san, are you-”

Oikawa’s face paled as he stared at Ushijima and his fear was confirmed. With a shrill shriek, he threw his pillow at the ace, “Bakatoshi, you pervert! Get out!”

A light blush crossed Ushijima’s face as he bowed in apology, scuttling out the door as quick as he came. Oikawa’s nerves were fried; Ushijima always had him on edge and it was stressing the setter out. The sane half of Oikawa wanted to cancel their jog whereas the stubborn half told him to just suck it up. He felt conflicted as he yanked his sportswear on. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind.

Oikawa exited the room and waved at Ushijima, encouraging him to follow before he bounced down the hall. It wasn't until he reached the scenic trail that encircled the campus that he checked to make sure Ushijima had followed. He was several feet behind Oikawa, keeping his distance unlike he had most of the day. Oikawa rolled his eyes. Brushing aside his prior discomfort, he walked over to Ushijima. He slapped Ushijima across the back and chuckled at how the ace’s eyes widened.

“What's the point of jogging together if you're that far behind?”

“I thought you might feel uncomfortable if I was too close.”

“I know I told you to meet back at my room, but I forgot and wasn't expecting anyone to walk in.” Oikawa bit his bottom lip, struggling to spit the words out. He rubbed the back of his neck as he gazed at Ushijima. Oikawa knew he had overreacted, at least a tad, but he didn't know how to express it and help alleviate Ushijima’s discomfort. “Listen, I didn't mean- uh, I shouldn't have called you a pervert. That was… uncalled for. We’ll be seeing plenty of each other in the locker rooms, after all. It’s no big deal.”

“I should have knocked.”

“Yeah, you should have, but the past is the past. As I said, it's no big deal. Let's just move on.”

“Thank you, Oikawa-san.”

“Yeah, yeah. It's no big-” Oikawa’s phone began to beep, indicating an incoming call. His eyes widened and a genuine smile spread across his face. “It's Iwa-chan, hold on.”

“Iwaizumi-san? Tell him I said hello.”

“Iwa-chan! How are you?” Oikawa exclaimed, closing his eyes as he listened to his friend. When he reopened them, he noticed Ushijima had moved on ahead. “Oi, where do you think you’re going?”

With a puzzled frown, Ushijima replied, “To give you space.”

“Don't just leave me alone out here!” Oikawa growled as he closed the gap between them once more. “I'm sorry, Iwa-chan. No, no, I'm not busy! Tell me what's new with you!” The two began to walk along the trail and after a considerable pause, Oikawa spoke up again, “That's great to hear! I'm so happy for you! Oh no, you don't want to hear about my shitty college life. I'd rather talk about you! Yes, you have to give me details about it!”

The skies darkened as they strolled side by side along the path. Shadows cast from the many trees and foliage engulfed them. Ushijima was silent, checking his own phone from time to time to make sure it wasn't getting too late. Oikawa nodded and hummed, and on occasion he would gasp while placing his hand over his mouth. Minutes trickled by and soon a whole hour had passed.

Ushijima felt a tugging on his sleeve and when he turned to observe Oikawa, he smiled. Oikawa was grinning from ear to ear and it was contagious. Ushijima stopped walking and Oikawa gave him an appreciative nod before focusing on his call. They had walked a full circle around the trail and were pretty close to where they had started when Iwaizumi had called.

“I can’t wait! It'll be so much fun! Bye bye, Iwa-chan, let's talk again soon!”

Waiting until after he ended the call, Ushijima spoke, “You didn't tell him I said hello.”

“Why would I? He wouldn't want to hear from you anyway. Come on, let's head back to the dorms.”

They engaged in small talk on the way back, much to Ushijima’s surprise. Oikawa even cracked a joke about the lack of jogging during their trip, as that was the whole purpose of them hanging out together. Ushijima reminded him about the weird hallway - that earned him a scowl and prompted a pact to never mention the event or hallway again.

They soon arrived back within the dormitories. It was getting late and the halls were empty. Ushijima insisted on walking Oikawa to his room but provided no reason other than it was dark out. Oikawa rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He could handle himself and the lateness of the hour had no effect on that, but Ushijima was a pain in the ass to argue with and Oikawa was already exhausted.

When they arrived at his dorm, he noticed the taller male fidgeting. Ushijima looked concerned and, since his curiosity was piqued, Oikawa decided to question his restlessness.

“What's your problem?”

“It's not a problem, just an observation. You seem much happier when you speak to Iwaizumi-san. Do you miss him?”

Oikawa snorted and slapped the ace’s arm, “Do you not miss your old team?”

“I guess that was a silly question.”

“Yeah, you guessed right. You're so dense sometimes, Wakatoshi.”

“Well, have a good night, Oikawa-san.”

“Yeah, yeah, you too.”

Oikawa watched him disappear down the hall. He wasn't annoyed with Ushijima, which he found odd. He blamed his jovial mood on Iwaizumi; he could always cheer Oikawa up. Oikawa was also surprised by his lack of displeasure at Ushijima for reading his expressions and personality shift with ease. Not to mention, Ushijima wasn't wrong in his observation; Oikawa did miss Iwaizumi. There was a slight churning in Oikawa’s stomach whenever he thought about how they each were moving on with their lives. Iwaizumi was, at least. He had found a new set of friends and had started dating. He was making the most of his college life and Oikawa was proud of him, if not a little envious.

Discarding the thoughts, he put on his best smile and unlocked the door. He could hear muffled voices inside but thought nothing of it. It was a shared room, after all. The door creaked as it opened and Oikawa stepped inside, still oblivious to the dalliance occurring within. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to witness.

#oikawa x ushijima #ushijima x oikawa #ushioi #oiushi #kuroo x suga #kuroo x sugawara #suga x kuroo #sugawara x kuroo #hq #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #anime #anime fanfiction #anime fanfic

5 notes · View notes

ifeveristoday · 4 years

Text

well, that escalated quickly

The first card of the Major Arcana, The Fool is generally a positive card indicating new beginnings. If it appears in your readings it could mean that you are on the verge of an exciting, unexpected new adventure. Your new adventure will bring you along a path which may require you to make a leap of faith but you will grow as a result of this new experience. This new adventure could be a literal new adventure, like travelling to a place you’ve never been before. The change this card can bring will usually be a welcome one. While the Fool is generally a positive card, its appearance in a reading can also indicate that you need to take the time to look before you leap. [x]

Even when reversed, the Fool is an indicator of newness; as well as the purity and open-hearted energy of a child. This is generally considered a positive card, with the caveat that it's important to take time to be sure that you are "looking where you're going." In reversal, The Fool can show that there is a need for a new beginning, but that there is some hesitancy about making it happen. [x]

When the Fool card is reversed, you are encountering an unfinished side of yourself, a part still caught in the shadows of ignorance or immaturity. An emotional reflex or psychological attitude could be holding you back from responding authentically and naturally.

Release yourself from any dogmas or taboos so your natural truthfulness and instinct for right action can be restored. [x]

Light some incense and find a crushed velvet vest and let’s get to issue 16 of Buffy.

Spoilers, as always underneath the cut. Also long and semi-rambly so if you’re new to this tumblr...yeah.

Short version: There’s a thing I’m not sure I like yet, the usual layer cake of THEMES and how it all ties together, and good character stuff.

Wow. So they’re really going there with Buffy and Evil! Xander. But it’s not like the comic hasn’t left crumbs of a potential -- something happening between them. Vamp! Xander’s first confrontation with Buffy was a crude sexual come-on, which she rebuffed very quickly, and then when he had his soul, there was an ambiguous hug between them in Hellmouth. Xander’s feelings about Buffy have always been pretty clear.

And while I’m not thrilled that in the year 2020 we still can’t have a platonic relationship between Buffy and Xander (like, I joke about this being a Point to the reboot that Joss insisted on, but of course that’s just speculation. But come on. He totally would), it’s not like the comic was not giving clues, clunky though some of them may be. Buffy’s Slayer dream of Vamp! Xander and Vamp! Her, Robin’s oddly insistent interrogation of Buffy’s feelings for Xander, the dinosaur gift of Zeppo, and Buffy’s own ambivalence toward Robin as a real potential boyfriend.

Issue 14 (which I still haven’t written a thorough post about) showcases (not explicitly written as such, but the characteristics are there) a PTSD-afflicted Buffy, who has lost both of her best friends in a matter of weeks. She’s not on good terms with her mother, Giles is still weird after his descent into magically induced MRA-ness and not exactly comforting her, and having to accept the reality of Kendra being a Slayer as well. There’s a lot of anxiety, jealousy, and survivor’s guilt thrown in there as well, and we all know Buffy’s favorite thing to do when she’s going through a lot of pain: ISOLATE HERSELF.

And then here’s Robin, telling her he’s on her side and is a friendly face and Buffy seizes that emotional life line and decides, well if I can’t like myself (this is referenced in Issue 15), Robin will do it for me. It’s a lonely, but understandable grasp at something normal and not...the reality of her present life.

Except Robin realizes he can’t be Buffy’s emotional support almost-boyfriend, and that Buffy has a martyr complex where she can’t be just the hero but also the villain in her own story - she takes on all of the fault but none of the help and love that does exist in her life.

He tells her that one of her problems is that she just doesn’t like herself.

And it’s a hard truth for Buffy to bear but she admits it.

Issue 16 dips into Buffy’s mixed up feelings re: love and connection and the thread that ties it together is the tarot card Jenny pulls from her spread to read to Dolly, her cat.

Best reveal of the reboot so far, no I won’t take any objections. Her cat! Is named Dolly! Possibly after Dolly Parton, stealth producer of BtVS!

Jenny, lone human adult voice of Reason, pulls the upside down Fool and I’ve included three meanings of it up above. The reason why I think it’s a common thread for this issue is because in Buffy’s slayer dream where she’s riding Zeppo the Symbolism? What Symbolism Dinosaur with Xander (with some terrible punning), Buffy says that they can’t let Zeppo drive, he’s too young and doesn’t know how to get to where they’re going. Xander replies, “Do you even remember where we’re going?”

And prior to this Buffy worries that they’re going too fast and to slow down.

This could signify a number of things - definitely new beginnings with Evil! Xander and the changed nature of his relationship to Buffy, Buffy’s personal fear that she doesn’t know what’s happening, only that it is too fast, and the fact they’re both so young. And for the moment, Xander will forever be this young. And with his reputation as being the ‘funny’ one, Xander could also be considered a Fool.

He’s in a state of being unfinished - he’s never going to experience the trials of regular adulthood, the personal milestones a human being has. And Buffy is unfinished in that she’s not done growing up, but she is also the Slayer, which requires a level of sacrifice that other girls her age wouldn’t experience.

Jenny pulling this card - well, there’s the unfinished nature of her relationship with Giles, they’re broken up but still pining over each other, and the fact that she doesn’t seem to have stayed in touch with anyone in the Scoobies? And her only confidante seems to be her cat. Which, no judgement, cats are good listeners.

Dolly is also a good detector of Ye Olde Supernatural Bullshit, as she senses something bad behind Jenny’s all of a sudden visitor, and Hulk! Giles a few issues back.

It is of course, Xander, who is gleefully pleased that it was that easy to trick Jenny into inviting him in.

Fade into black- sort of, as the next step is Xander playing mind games via text.

Right after Buffy has her weird dinosaur dream, she tries to google meanings of it, as well as sending Willow texts in a long chain of non replied thread, updating her about what’s been happening in Sunnydale in her absence. I noticed she used a similar - “I’ll be here for you” in her message to Rose, and I think that’s Buffy’s way of changing. She wants to be there for her people, instead of avoiding them.

And she gets a text (Miss me?) from Xander, which prompts her to run to Giles and Kendra.

This is a neat(?) reference to how Xander got catfished by Drusilla when she texted him from Buffy’s phone. God, the way this sentence sounds out of context to an TV canon fan.

ANYWAY.

Buffy states that Xander died the night the Hellmouth closed, and they had a candlelight vigil and his parents barely leave the house - which makes me think while Hank Summers is a bastard in every ‘verse, Boom! has a good dad for Robin, Joyce and Eric for Buffy, and apparently good parents for Willow and Xander as well. Yay.

Kendra, who is more objective than Buffy and Giles can be regarding Xander, theorizes that Xander’s disappearance might not be death in a final sense, but rather his soul disappearing. Which causes the question, where has his body been this whole time? Also, I see that I Robot, You Jane easter egg, Jordie.

Setting Jenny’s house on fire, that’s what. Giles gets a similarly upsetting text on his phone, and they run to her house. Buffy and Kendra immediately throw themselves into save the cat (and Jenny!) mode and run into Evil! Xander. Quite literally - Xander grabs Kendra by the neck and throws her out of the window from the second floor - don’t worry, she survives.

We can’t be fridging the POC this early, after all.

Then it’s Xander and Buffy’s first glimpse of each other since Hellmouth, and standard enemy banter ensues - Xander says it’s just them and Buffy snaps that it’s only in his dreams. Then the staircase starts cracking due to the fire’s heat and Buffy’s thisclose to falling off when Xander grabs her, and in his human mask tells her that it could just be them together, if she wants it. Buffy takes Kendra’s advice to stop feeling and just think, and kicks Xander in a jump with both her feet aimed at his chest. Also she says she’d rather die than let that happen, which...I really hope aren’t famous last words.

The fool card flutters down and lands on Buffy’s forehead, reminding her that she’s on a rescue mission for Jenny. Who is nowhere to be found, but Dolly leaps into Buffy’s arms, and she carries her out.

Giles, Kendra and Buffy reconvene at Giles’s and try to figure out why Xander targeted Jenny.

Giles, who started the issue being a concerned mentor has grown smaller and less confident toward the end as he asks Buffy and Kendra to find Jenny. Buffy vows that they’re going to make Xander pay. Giles sadly agrees and then leaves to show Dolly the garden.

Let me pause a moment to cry about the fact that Giles is showing Jenny’s cat the garden.

Kendra and Buffy bond, sincerely, for the first time since Kendra made her appearance. Sister slayers, fuck yeah! Also, I love Kendra’s characterization and I hope she stays for a long time. And not die.

There’s a thawing there as each switch positions - Kendra tells Buffy it’s okay that she feels the way she feels, as Buffy tells her, no, she’s right, Xander isn’t the boy she knew, and to treat him like he’s just a regular vampire.

Then she admits she’s not sure if she misses Xander, or if it’s something else, to which Kendra replies, “I think when you know, you know.”

And Buffy asks her like her and Rose - and Kendra confirms it.

Just as Kendra’s words end the issue, Willow - who could be OG timeline Willow, or an Alternate Verse Willow, comes into the light and holds Rose’s hand.

DRAAAAMA.

So. Xander and Buffy heading toward something, Kendra/Rose confirmed, Giles has now adopted Dolly, Jenny’s status: Currently Unknown.

And Willow?

Though with the Fool, there’s that meaning of new adventures and travelling to a place you’ve never been before. That sums up Willow’s current journey so far.

#buffy comics #boom! studios #boom! verse #thoughts and reactions #spoilers #also i knew all those past tarot card covers and just the symbolism in the cards had to come back #unless it was all a neat coincidence

8 notes · View notes

incarnateirony · 4 years

Text

S15 Remaster: Grace, Souls, Conversion; Effects of the Fall; The Journey of Man; Self-Godhood and Free Will.

Alright, so over in another thread (x) @curioussubjects evoked an interesting take about the effects of the fall vs grace/souls and the meaning of the two, and I remembered having an old post that was a bit of a mess from early S13 where I applied Qabbalistic concepts to SPN not long before the actual... Qabbalistic and Hermetic elements started manifesting (The Shadow, the Empty/Ain Soph, etc) and before I pretty much started flipping theological shit.

The other thread was already becoming titanic with a hodge podge of other philosophical musings between users (I think @winchestersingerautorepair and @thecoffeebrain-blog are still pending to add their additions to it once life clears them), so we sort of mutually agreed to save this discourse for another thread while I took some time to remaster and update the old talking points.

It's a fundamental point that is generally vaguely brushed over, or often has modern concepts plugged into it in streamlined media form rather than exploration: What makes a soul, what makes existence, what makes meaning in our lives.

This, in fact, is the fundamental question and exploration *of* the soul, which Dabb's SPN seems to be tackling fairly directly.

So let's explore the differences and transitional conversions of grace and soul as we've witnessed in SPN. I'll be starting with my take, but of course, as all philosophical discussions go, this is best a conversation of shared concepts.

Also uh, this post was kinda on-request but is literally ridonculously long. Fuck Andrew Dabb for being the only person on the face of the goddamn planet that can make me write infinite words about esoteric philosophy about a TV show.

So this conversation gets a bit difficult to even know where to begin. I'm going to notch a few notes for everybody to keep in mind: Season 6: Death can not destroy souls. Souls are the most powerful known force in the universe, and he who has the most Is Become God. Season 13: Only god can create new angels, they are the biological definition of an asexually reproductive species (as opposed to sexual orientation identity) -- they are unable to create among themselves, and must be created by a supreme force in command of the grace that creates them. This will passively brush over the oft-discussed topic of angel sexuality as well, but that is far from the core point. Season 14: God calls souls "complicated" to handwave away making new ones. Season 15: Yet again, Belphegor tried to consume souls to become a great power, reflecting S6/7 Castiel's arc.

Now that I've sort of dropped those as a lead-in of applicable concepts, I'd like to move forward.

Now as per my S13 listing, we've all seen this fandom turn over and try to apply human sexuality and identity labels to angels over and over again and, while I understand that and mean no offense to that in general, I feel like approaching it from that angle of the human perspective and lens makes a great deal of the substantiative qualities of SPN's discussion of the human soul vanish into the aether. How are these things related? Let's talk!

Sex isn’t the only part of this discussion. As they are wavelength lifeforms, rather than biological, they aren’t really dependent on biological functions. Many of their native elements pass to their vessels: They don’t eat, sleep, or have general body functions… normally.

Their senses are all sorts of different, too. They see in the astral, they taste and smell in molecular compounds, and especially early-vessel-claiming, they seem to have next to no actual pain response. It’s like, well, some giant wave form stuffed in a meat sack they use like a marionette more than having genuine attachment to. Early on angels could waltz through gunfire without flinching and take a knife to the chest with a very bland look of, “Really?”

When it comes to discussing angels and grace, I'm going to pull some sections from the linked post at the start of this:

We know the biblical concept that all things are made by grace; we know Chuck controls his fake construct, but not the free will of the human soul. Consider Gabriel’s constructed worlds where he can manipulate the fake people inside it and snap them away in veils of blue, they’re just pieces of a machine. “I’m the cage.” The human body is part of the sandbox, but the soul is something beyond it.

If angels are living aspects of grace, wavelengths of celestial intent for Chuck’s machinations, the programs that keep the matrix in order – and fallen angels are the rogue programs – they’re still relatively connected to being just… an animated, if intelligent rock or any other piece of the universe. To use more Matrix terms: Just more lines of code. But Castiel’s break in that was contact with his profound bond with Dean that left a mark on him, a brand, just like Balthazar’s soul claims. This tie was powerful enough to be stronger than even Amara’s connection to Dean, for example.

The human soul is the essence of the one true good, realistically – The One Thing that exists, truly, by which all other things come, the Prima Materia – “What Jack did wasn’t evil, it was the absence of good.” – this is actually a hermetic concept but that’s a whole other bag of words, that’s how I quoted that line before the episode aired from the title alone but MOVING ON

If we look at Eileen for example, her ghost is still deaf. Her body/cage/vessel in life never introduced her consciousness, her humanity, to the tactile sense of sound as it exists within Chuck’s sandbox, ergo her spirit doesn’t know it. But it is the soul, like the sleeper, seeking the meaning of its existence and where it is home that commands the body, and leaves the body, and ends up in chuck’s other matrixes of control like heaven and hell that keep people distracted, keep humans from returning to the primordial man that rivals or maybe even betters God.

That all said, human Cas for example suddenly had the full awareness of experience, rather than an autonomous sentient part of the universe chained to divine intent, free or not; that freedom and liberty came by way of the human soul. (Per metatron, Season 8 finale, “When you die and your soul comes to heaven,”) But with his tie to Dean, and humanity, and a soul his hands laid on, the extraction of his grace also left… but what? A soul born of Dean, really.

Whenever his grace came back, that universal power and awareness, he lost those senses, but he didn’t lose many of the attributes that came with. In fact he pined for them.

Also if we go Jungian with the inky man/shadow as the primordial man or spirit of man, Anthropos, while it didn’t reflect Lucifer, Billie, or soulless Jack it reflected Castiel.

I’ve held the theory that Castiel still has a soul like the nucleus of an egg buried beneath a titanic presence of universal power.

I’d also further endorse this by pointing out while metatron cited Cas having a soul in the S8 finale, when Jack lost his, neither Dean nor Cas thought Cas could empathize as well as Sam could.

In example, Castiel is the only one the Shadow reflected, not Billie, not Soulless Jack, not Lucifer, just Castiel; I’ve even gone so far as to speculate that the smiley attempt at communication was the sort of subconscious borg having the essence of Jack’s soul trying to communicate with his spirit/mind otherwise alert based on consumed grace in the Empty. Speculation, yes, but… potentially loudly resonant.

The journey of man to self-godhood is a complex and tangled affair, traveling through facets of the self represented by a wide array of *ideas* we have begun to face in the show (including color schemes Dabb has actively employed)

If you venture into my shorthand visual post about The Shadow, Anima, Animus, and the Self (x) you'll find how the show has chosen to address this. Similarly, the masculine and feminine paths of universal progenation would be worth a cursory read (x).

Similarly, @winchestersingerautorepair recently sent me a chart from a 1973 book titled "The Colors of Love" discussing Hellenistic use of color in association (which, minding alchemy's growth path through time, is hugely relevant). As Maeve said, "John Allen Lee is the mvp by the way. Hes at the crossroads of psychology and LGBT concepts of love and sexuality, and has a fascinating career and life story."

Before I fully locked on to just how loud Dabb was being in his use of alchemy rather than casually tapping on it, you may remember a series of color metas I built specifically on these very colors (and, let's face it, black light doesn't exist, but blue does, and has similar psychological associations). Click this (x) to go to my color metas on tumblr regarding Optimism, which follows this path. Unfortunately my Nihilism one is either untagged or I only posted it on Pillowfort. But you’ll take note I just sort of avoided/dodged/ignored established fanon color meta in favor of other stuff, just a heads up there if you’re expecting me to follow anyone else’s pre-existing fanon -- it ain’t there.

This is all an aside to the actual question of *souls*, but an important framework to how Dabb is choosing to explore the journey of the soul through its many aspects of Being.

To defer back to what I quoted from my other post about Gabriel's universes: What makes humanity different from the moving bodies performing functions of controlled story, rather than guided elements, inside Gabriel's world? If we were to, say, drift into Doctor Sexyverse, or Cop Proceduralverse, nobody seemed to flinch or even be aware of Sam and Dean breaking the script, they continued on their own paths until Sam and Dean "played their parts". But what made Sam and Dean *different* from them?

Explaining freedom to angels is "a bit like teaching poetry to a fish," said Castiel, now bound to humanity since laying his hands on the human soul in hell that, even the S8 DVD commentary mentions, is how he has come to know, love and, as they say, be "enamored with" humanity. We have seen it now-- blank stares of confusion from breaking their course of action, their function. Their predesigned purpose that they were wavelengths of intent for within the machine. They aren't all so different from Gabriel's creations in the end, with Doctor Sexy's Nurses being not too unlike angels to Chuck. They are there for a path and a reason, and should they be somehow interrupted from that function, they seem to lose all purpose.

To convert this to another method of understanding than "matrix code", in case that isn't sinking in with anyone, think of angels as forces of nature. The hurricane means no malice, it simply exists as a function of or even result of universal laws, and often evokes great rebalancing effects that change the course of history for a huge amount of humans and other creatures that it's basically oblivious to. The hurricane does not understand your feelings much less care about them. It is here to do what it does until it is done with what it does. This very concept is why so many ancient gods are primitive archetypes of natural forces.

If we cease trying to box angels into human perceptions for the want to identify with them in such a representation-light landscape, the field opens up to something infinitely more complicated. Such as: what makes Castiel so different? I've already addressed that, of course, in this post, but let's pitch that as a conversational hook again.

"You want to know why we're meant to stay away from those humans? It's not because we're a danger to them. It's because they're a danger to us."

Now BECAUSE sexuality is the angle this fandom has heavily thrown its discussion chips into beyond the other senses, I'm going to move forward into that topical field:

Anna, talking to Dean, lists a long flurry of reasons to become human, among which sex was stapled. In later seasons, Cas comes up with a different list, but it’s more reflective of his emotive view of humanity, and doesn’t include the sex. Either way, it actually leaves interesting take on the human soul’s function (which is also a silent part of something I’ll get to later** ) as per the trinity of mind-soul-body sometimes called “The Threefold Nature of Man” in a lot of classic mysticism. **

So why would Anna include sex in the list if others can enjoy it? There’s various reasons of taking this into consideration, and I consider most headcanon potentials valid since… you know, there’s really no clear statement on this.

- Most angels have a copilot and that’s just creepy AF - It could be subliminal commentary of wanting to enjoy a native drive for it rather than a learned one, since affections and emotions are also canonically attached to the human condition (as well as the 3fold Nature discussed later). - It could have to do with gradual humanization effects (will discuss shortly) - Misc other.

Barring our specific presumption of why this hangs in the air, the detail is that it simply *does*. Perhaps the truth is between all of these, with each angel unto their own.

Anna lurked, invisibly, on earth observing men as long as she knew. Now, gradual humanization effects is a complete headcanon proposal associated around all elements to be covered in this discussion. That is to say, most angels that have exhibited sexual behavior and enjoyment of various goods have either been fallen or in their vessels for a LONG TIME, perhaps gradually removing the disassociation from the body and gaining familiarity with its functions.

Yes, we can evoke Balthazar’s sexual activity, but we must also evoke his appreciation for wine and food and music and all of the other things that we have canonically, even mechanically witnessed in Castiel (inability to appreciate food or drink, in example, as an angel.) So WHAT makes Balthazar different that he CAN experience all of these things (beyond the potential of Plothole AF)? There is literally something he has that other angels don’t. The second Cas clicks back to angel, he can’t appreciate food anymore and beer does nothing for him, but Balthazar can enjoy alcohol? There is LITERALLY a difference of template of EVERYTHING going on here, not just sexuality. We can postulate it all we want, but the only one that immediately comes to mind is “gradual humanization”, as we haven’t the FOGGIEST idea how long he has had his vessel. Unless we assume various appreciations of his are Just An Act, but then why not assume it’s performance behavior on the sexuality too? Pick one or the other, don’t run the line on both. (Also if you want to be under the assumption that despite terminal soul dealing it was his first vessel run, I’m going to leave this as a note, and a REMINDER of his meddling in attachment to, handling, trade and use of human souls for his own means, and tuck this aside until we GET to the meaning of human souls.)

The VERY SAME can be said of Gabriel. And Gabriel we KNOW has been on earth as Gabe for a VERY. LONG. TIME. His sweet tooth is what got him busted. Again, it’s not just about his sexuality, it’s his entire composition is somehow DIFFERENT from otherwise canonical function of angels.

Again I point out there’s also a big ??????? on Naomi because again… 400 year old Crowley in Mesopotamia. We have no educated way to even ADDRESS that one because… is it a time warp? WTH??? Even Mark called this a plothole. Literally we have to headcanon how they were even there together before we headcanon what was even going on in a big old pillar of ridiculous headcanon, so I’m going to float that off in a box labeled with a question mark and admit, it’s just random AF. The “fling” is also implied and unclear. So I mean- we’ll just… note that and keep moving on why it’s never impacted my perception of this much.

How long fallen was Lucifer?

Hannah brings an obvious question to mind in challenge to all of my surrounding premises, but this is literally where “choice of experimentation within a vessel” comes into play, as with all of them. I’m human now, this seems like a fun thing to humans, let me try the thing; that’s all I’ve ever read that as. You may have your read of it otherwise, but angels try a lot of things. And I’ll bring this up during canon talk.

The concept of humanization-with-time does have some further established presence of S13. When Lucifer is still an angel but largely drained of his grace, he too begins feeling compulsions of hunger, cold, and basic human instinct he was previously immune to. Diminished power, and the closer one comes to being of Soul Rather than Grace, the more they seem to resonate. Anna carved out her grace to fully enjoy humanity and was born into it, experiencing its gifts of awareness. Cas can no longer fully enjoy humanity as an angel. We don’t know what Balthazar’s status is. And so on. But it appears that by VARIOUS METHODS, such as the depletion of grace or just being a long-assed time to attach to a specific vessel, they do end up ATTAINING various behaviors.

Preparing to speak on Humanized Angels.

What really triggered this premise to me was the recurring humanization of Castiel. And again, this goes far beyond just sexuality preferences. I’m going to do a brief break to get to that ** I marked above about the threefold nature of man before expanding.

** Mind-Soul-Body trinity:

Angels have the mind/spirit (grace) and body, but lack a soul; grace is closer to their natural body’s composition than molecular and transmits a wavelength thought into whatever sack they’re using to operate. But there’s a disconnect here in classic mind-soul-body structure (which is sometimes alternately listed as Body-Spirit-Soul, with Soul as the mind instead, and Spirit in place of the alternate listing of Soul? People swap these terms interchangeably but you’ll find a common pull). There’s multiple takes on this. For example, we’ll go with the standard accepted biblical take as a first ideation of it, considering the various judeochristian influences of SPN.

Please NOTE I’m going to list several variations of this, and have no hard cast “this is the exact model” they’re using, as much as “this is a recurring theme in religion and philosophy”, which, while SPN is rarely 100% accurate to any one specific model, they often call on.

The EXACT itterations of this vary, and there’s no real saying which exact respective “silent ven diagram” they’re using, but as if a triple circle overlapped with Mind, Body, Spirit with the balance we as humans know at the core. Removing a rung of this strips out major overlap of function.

The inner spirit, insight, will and memory reaching from spirit/mind to body by WAY of the soul, for the spirit to engage the human senses within the constructed universe

CASTIEL

Well, perhaps I’ve been down here with them for too long. There’s seemingly nothing but chaos. But not all bad comes from it. Art. Hope. Love. Dreams.

HANNAH

But t-those are human things.

CASTIEL

Yes.

To fully understand this chart, I again point to (as earlier in this post) this previous post about primordials, explaining the chain (x), Anima Animus and the Shadow (x) and also its association with the paths on way to enlightenment at the source of creation which is explored, for a particular path, right here (x)

Just another way to stack out this chart, including the adventure of Anima and Animus, as well as the id/ego/superego I’ll discuss soon; However, you can see the literal concept is the same. There’s an inner mind, a central essence of the inner court that reflects close to the aspects of Humanity Cas told Hannah, and then the “living room” of the body, and the senses. Same deal. Again, "I'm the cage."

You see a running theme here?

The Soul is essentially commonly received as a vehicle between the higher mind and the body (as well as possessing aspects of our emotion, and sense of self, such as how Sam lost parts of himself without his soul) That, without which, we are lacking various critical anchors of the human experience that we often see lacking in angels.

This therein raises the challenge, “But Soulless Sam was ALL ABOUT the sex.”

That’s where species difference comes in.

We’ll talk psychology a bit, wherein we have the psychological variances of id, ego and superego rather than just body-soul-mind/spirit. They essentially perform the same functions (base instinct drive, early personality function, learned and refined function with choices etc, to boil it down to super-simplistics).

“According to this Freudian model of the psyche, the id is the set of uncoordinated instinctual trends; the super-ego plays the critical and moralizing role; and the ego is the organized, realistic part that mediates between the desires of the id and the super-ego.” – Freud, Sigmund. The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud. Vol. XIX. Translated from the German under the General Editorship of James Strachey. In collaboration with Anna Freud. Assisted by Alix Strachey and Alan Tyson, Vintage, 1999. [Reprint.] ISBN 0-09-929622-5

A Sam with no soul has his base species survival instinct but his acting mind. A Cas with no soul has HIS base species survival instinct (in lack of sexual reproduction as much as potential learned appreciation under the above spoken methods) for an id, if any, and a curiously arranged body until other elements come into play. The ego and superego, such as the application of a soul, leaves room for the gradual inclusion of preferences to anything within this model, such as angels developing their own ORIENTATION once having a vehicle by which to come through.

There’s a few other points to notice about the transition. The Mind/Spirit is capable of questions and doubts, or faith. “I’m not a hammer, as you call it; I have questions, I have doubts.” - S4 Castiel.

The mind is capable to think and to reason, but complex emotions are a challenge to it without a soul, which also filters our thoughts and memories from upper mind into the body, wherein we gain connectivity to the physical senses and the realm we experience.

But the universe -- the wavelengths of intent that make it function -- simply can not experience itself, any more than any other code running on your computer can experience itself. It is you, the human, that experiences the results of that code, and views and understands it and reaches out to aspects of life through it. Grace, should all things be made by it and through Chuck, as the thing that creates this code/intent of angels -- it simply is, and runs, and functions.

So BACK TO THE HUMANIZATION OF ANGELS,

Castiel has humanized or near-humanized three times and we're pending on a fourth. Briefly in the hospital, he was braindead (lacking Jimmy’s brain function, but instead having his own mind) while his heart remained pumping, meaning the body/vessel was alive, but the remaining grace WAS in fact functioning in place of a mind.

CASTIEL 5.21 I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead. (…) CASTIEL You could say my batteries are – are drained. DEAN What do you mean? You’re out of angel mojo? CASTIEL I’m saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I’m saying that I’m just incredibly… DEAN Human. Wow. Sorry.

However, it was depleted, and this is addressed in effect later on by Metatron removing grace. As grace is removed,

METATRON 8.23 And now something wonderful is going to happen, for me and for you. I want you to live this new life to the fullest. Find a wife. Make babies. And when you die and your soul comes to Heaven, find me. Tell me your story.

Now Castiel goes on to return to himself by going all cannibal and whatnot, but that’s its own story. The simple fact of it is, with the mind housed in a vessel, but the grace attached to it depleted, the body seems to generate something like, equivalent to, or equal to a human soul in its function.

Now to reflect back

2014!CASTIEL 5.04 So, in this way. We’re each a fragment of total perception—just, uh, one compartment in that dragonfly eye of group mind. Now, the key to this total, shared perception—it’s, um, it’s surprisingly physical. 2014!CASTIEL spots DEAN. 2014!CASTIEL Oh. Excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute. Why not go get washed up for the orgy? The WOMEN leave. 2014!CASTIEL You’re all so beautiful. 2014!CASTIEL stands and stretches his back, grunting. DEAN What are you, a hippie? 2014!CASTIEL I thought you’d gotten over trying to label me. (…) 2014!CASTIEL I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I’m sorry, no dice. DEAN What, are you stoned? 2014!CASTIEL Uh, generally, yeah. DEAN What happened to you? 2014!CASTIEL Life. (…) 2014!CASTIEL You want some? DEAN Amphetamines? 2014!CASTIEL It’s the perfect antidote to that absinthe. DEAN Mmm. Don’t get me wrong, Cas. I, uh. I’m happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what’s going on—w-with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap? 2014!CASTIEL laughs. DEAN What’s so funny? 2014!CASTIEL Dean, I’m not an angel anymore. DEAN What? 2014!CASTIEL Yeah, I went mortal. DEAN What do you mean? How? 2014!CASTIEL I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of— psshhew!—drained away. And now, you know, I’m practically human. I mean, Dean, I’m all but useless. Last year, broke my foot, laid up for two months. DEAN Wow. 2014!CASTIEL Yeah. DEAN So, you’re human. Well, welcome to the club. 2014!CASTIEL Thanks. Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I’m powerless. I’m hapless, I’m hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It’s the end, baby. That’s what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that’s, that’s just how I roll.

Now, we can try to extrapolate that it’s “all the drugs,” but drugs or not, while decadence includes MORAL decline, it also is this:

dec·a·dence ˈdekədəns/Submit noun moral or cultural decline as characterized by excessive indulgence in pleasure or luxury.

And Cas doesn’t get words wrong (unless he’s trying to make an awkward conversation starter with Dean as what’s almost a routine for them, always in idioms and never in definition). In fact, he has a very on-point vocabulary. How often does someone evoke “Insouciant”?

Calling it decadence defines this as a luxury to Castiel. The entire episode is like One Giant Exposition of the differences: being breakable, prone to decadence, bang a few gongs on the way out. Yes, it includes drugs; hell, he’s now subject to being INFLUENCED by drugs, contrary to being able to drink down the entire bar before “starting to feel something” or needing to drink the whole liquor store before the grace stopped implicitly filtering it enough for him to stagger in on Sam. At some point, Castiel decided these were ALL his coping mechanisms, but this is an adaptation of some period of humanization between late 2009 and 2014.

This could be considered a one-off of Zachariah’s manipulation or whatever if we choose to ignore Edlund saying it was a real universe, but then we get the SAME THING hitting us again in season 9, if under a different, immediate scope rather than “end result.”

9.01 CASTIEL looks at his bloody palm. CASTIEL It hurts. (…) MAN How about we get you some water, hmm? CASTIEL I, uh, I don’t drink water. (…) CASTIEL It’s okay. I don’t eat.

and

9.03 CASTIEL (Chewing on the toothpaste) I’ll be moving on tonight after work. It’s time. The MAN nods and hangs up his towel. CASTIEL Can I ask you something? MAN Sure. CASTIEL walks into one of the bathroom stalls. CASTIEL Do you ever tire of urinating? I’ll never get used to it. (…) HOMELESS MAN You’re new at this, aren’t you? CASTIEL Food… sleep, or passing gas, it’s all very strange. And it’s occurred to me that one day I’m gonna die. CASTIEL and the HOMELESS MAN just look at each other curiously. CASTIEL Well… I better try falling asleep. It’s quite a process, isn’t it? (…)

Now, we’re going to take to the raw moment of Castiel and April,

She kisses him gently on the cheek, but stays close and eventually kisses him on the lips. CASTIEL seems surprised at first but then joins in.

Cas is surprised… and then joins in. Castiel did not expect this, but falls into it of his own action. No force was implied, and the moment leading into it was all of a few seconds, rather than any persistence or insistence.

A few more bits,

APRIL So, that was okay? CASTIEL Very much so. Um… what I did, that was, uh… correct? APRIL Very much so. CASTIEL (Smiling) (…) APRIL So what happens next for you? CASTIEL More of this, I hope. They smile and start making out again.

I don’t exactly get the feeling that she’s entirely leading this situation on all by herself, to the dismay of several gatekeeper ship or sexuality stans.

More elements with regards to humanity in this episode,

CASTIEL I am really enjoying this place. Plentiful food. Good water pressure. Things I never even considered before. There really is a lot to being human, isn’t there? DEAN It ain’t all just burritos and strippers, my friend. CASTIEL Yeah. I understand what you’re saying. SAM You do? CASTIEL Yes, there’s more to humanity than survival. You… look for purpose, and you must not be defeated by anger or despair. Or hedonism, for that matter. DEAN Where does hedonism come into it? CASTIEL Well, my time with April was very educational. SAM Yeah. I mean, I would think that getting killed is something. CASTIEL And having sex. DEAN chokes on his burrito for a second. DEAN You had sex with April? SAM Yeah, that would be where the hedonism comes in.

This isn’t just Castiel talking about having sex for the first time. This is Castiel acknowledging the allure of hedonism for the first time (…not minding the timewarp of 5.04, which didn’t happen Because AU.)

And here, also 9.03, before meeting April CASTIEL is once again wandering through the noise and the people. He is trying to take everything in – he glances from a hot dog stand to a woman’s breasts to a supermarket. The whole place is noisy and crowded and confusing. He is overwhelmed.

In 9.03, among this onslaught of Castiel’s change in visual, sound, sensory, and other instinctual acknowledgment of a change in the senses (see back to the 3Fold Nature and the acquisition of a human soul), we also get Castiel rubbernecking at a woman’s chest for the first time, before encountering April; the transcript doesn’t do the moment proper justice with the pure level of focus directors and editors called to it. In fact, we get slow camera pan and a rubberneck that might as well have ended with him walking-flipping into a trashcan blindside.

With all of these stacked connotations aside, I find it difficult to interpret anything but it being installed as a yet-again evocation of a difference in function.

Episodes 1 and 3, the first two episodes Castiel is in during season 9 after losing his grace at the end of season 8, DELUGE us with a current of differences of all of his sensory faculties.

Once his state is “corrected,” (for lack of a better term - Castiel seems to yearn for his humanity back through the show) the show makes a point of showing us a reversal as applicable,

SAM What? What are you talking about? CASTIEL When I was human, you know, I had to eat constantly. It was kind of annoying. SAM Yeah, a lot of human things are pretty annoying. CASTIEL But…I enjoyed the taste of food – particularly peanut butter with grape jelly, not jam. Jam I found unsettling. SAM [sitting on the table next to CASTIEL] So, what? Now you can’t taste PB and J? CASTIEL No, I-I taste every molecule. SAM Not the sum of its parts, huh? CASTIEL It’s overwhelming. It’s disgusting. [looks longingly at the sandwich] I miss you, PB and J.

Once again, paradigm shift. What he once appreciated, amidst the VAST wash of senses they told us about, just seems… null now. Something is missing, and something is different. Again, the universe can no longer experience ITSELF.

Now, I’m going to fall back a bit to cover what would possibly be framed as an argument against all of this, but frankly builds into it,

Back in season 6, Meg was UNABASHEDLY FLIRTING WITH CASTIEL and trying to prompt him to “move some furniture around,” and, in a learned “last night on earth” move, Castiel makes a motion in 6.10

Meg grabs Castiel by the neck and kisses him, at the same time removing his sword. Castiel pushes her up against the wall and returns the kiss with interest. MEG: What was that? CASTIEL: I learned that from the pizza man.

NOTICE. LEARNED THAT.

With FORWARD PROMPTING from Meg, and existing example (porn), Castiel did in fact make a move. That is to say, “learned behaviors” and “personal orientation” beyond “species reproductive instinct”. But as made clear by April, this never led anywhere particular, never completed, and while he expressed wanting repeats with April during being human, this is the only actual example we have of it.

In short: throughout the show, Castiel finds new things and tests new things. These new things become bizarre little childlike obsessions at times even. This one… obviously a little less childlike. (clears throat) But again, this is a process of “learned motion.” (though I’m somewhat disturbed that canonically Emmanuel-Cas sees her face and is absolutely horrified at her appearance, meaning this is also not likely even by nature of physical/spiritual attraction as much as personal, almost a demisexual trait with experimental curiosity which, as an independent idea beyond “holy shit she’s a demon”, is a healthy phase.)

But by way of learned motion/acquired taste and function, we then have the question of “why doesn’t Cas repeat this if he clearly enjoyed season 9?” Well, I can name a few. We can go over the fact that Cas simply doesn’t explore social venues that make it ready. Or we can mention his seeming lack of compulsion for it which ...is a topic of this post. Or we can simply reflect to the *challenges* of hedonism and what it will, in this post, continue to implicitly adventure as the cage and trappings of the human body and experience within what we call “life”, which the human soul extends well beyond.

But it leads us to an interesting series of questions about Castiel and Dean’s seemingly changed interactions in season 12, on a subliminal level.

And no, I’m not implying they’re boning. When Dean is no longer getting strung across a variety of cosmic elements to save him directly from the crosshairs of, or from himself, we’re getting this weird vibe of gruff jealousy, bickering, and infighting. As if Castiel, settling in more among them, is channeling increased humanity. Despite being an angel in some crippled capacity still, personality traits acquired from his human period are still there, leading to believe the soul element never ENTIRELY disappeared, as much as with further ding-dang-donged up grace, we have to wonder - is this almost a sliding scale? Or can both run mutually when one doesn’t overshadow the other? The exact specifics of this mechanic would be unclear.

But all of these complexities is why I find it nearly impossible to, in my head, reduce it to the simple “well some like it and-” because I have always read an intentional base-beat of differentiation between the human and angelic experience including, but not limited to, sex.

There’s a subtle hint of some osmosis of this in what I mentioned above with Hannah. “Perhaps I’ve been with them too long.”

CASTIEL

Well, perhaps I’ve been down here with them for too long. There’s seemingly nothing but chaos. But not all bad comes from it. Art. Hope. Love. Dreams.

HANNAH

But t-those are human things.

CASTIEL

Yes.

And so why I find it impossible to just address “angel sexuality” as its own topic. This may just be my brain at work, but I don’t see all of this effort in dividing their experiences, in a show that addresses theology and concepts like the human soul, to be arbitrary and random and I just see SO much beautiful complexity IN the shift of his sexual behaviors, among other operations. It’s not just about Castiel’s sexuality, it’s about addressing the complex creatures that are humans, and what builds us at a core. Frankly, from that end, it doesn’t matter if Cas is bi, ace, straight or pan – Castiel has been human, and wants to be so again. And it, along with other things littered throughout the show, have given us great insights on the soul, or the lack thereof, and all of these beautiful building blocks.

And so to roll away from approaching sexuality so heavily, and instead ball and bundle that up as part of the human experience within the body, the reflection of the human soul, I hook again: The universe can not experience itself more than Windows OS can experience itself; it requires the essence of man to experience the result of the work of grace and by which it finds many things of itself, even within the trappings of a human life.

The fact that humans are afterwards caged elsewhere is a whole other discussion me and others have been holding in the original linked post, so let's step away from that and instead go back to the concept of, far and away beyond sexuality, what makes a soul, and how is it different from the created universe.

If we were to apply these concepts -- angels, bodies of grace, as parts of the universe and how it functions -- versus the irrevocable free will fundamental to the human soul, dividing bodies from just being roving parts of the construct like Gabriel's realms -- to our dialogue in regards to Castiel as our seeming oddball with a crack in his chassis, "And the universe came to humanity, and laid hands on humanity, and fell in love with humanity to come to know it; it abandoned its own purpose and functions due to this connection to the concept of the human soul, and began to live and dream and love as a man, rebelling against its predesigned function; and one day, the orphic child of both the universe and man looked through the eyes of the universe to first see man, and itself was born from the universe unto man, to live and learn as a man and hold its dominion of both human sovereignty and creator of grace, mastering both realms." in regards to Jack's very creation, and why he is such a huge threat to Chuck's power and control of his realm.

As a powerful creature of grace, he can take and reroute those elements without issue by authoritative command of the independent liberty of the human soul, free thinking and not just a Doctor Sexy Nurse in motion.

But the question is conversion, which we've seen in both directions, be it Castiel acquiring a human soul or Jack converting humans into angels with his command of both of these dominions. The best I could liken it to is AC/DC energy conversion. It is worth noting, however -- grace can be drained without permission, it is not tied to freedom. Humanity is the body of choice: be that humans choosing to surrender that in the name of glory and power to simply become part of universal functions, which isn't so different from choosing to burn one's own soul away in the name of spells, magic or other power; or the human spirit attached to its cage of a body and life still needing to concede and give permission to be taken BY the forces of the universe, surrendering the potential impact of their own choices within their own moving cage to what the universe would will of it.

Ironically, if you use an AC inverter to power a computer or television, the power supply in the device is converting the 120-volt alternating current into a much lower voltage direct current. The sensitive electronic circuits in these devices need low, regulated voltages to work, so you're actually converting DC to AC so it can be changed back into DC again. You can't use straight direct current without the AC to DC inverter because the device's power supply needs the AC power in order to properly step down and regulate the voltage. That is to say, in conversion parts are lost, but they can still be transmitted; so while Castiel was subject to the human experience, he still struggled with parts like dreaming. It was a young, small spark of a soul, converted from another energy form, and likely with his connection to Dean acting as the inverter.

Demons go to the empty; demons are former human souls that corrupted and lost the light that made them inherently "good." That which defines them. They have collapsed to the pressures of Chuck's universes and let their flame go out. But realistically, that's also antagonized by other human souls in hell trying to escape their own torment.

It has been seen, time and again, that the only thing that can destroy a human soul is... the human soul.

*takes a breath*

And now to explore what @curioussubjects has been saying about The Shadow as a recycling Bin of souls, which would predate the universe and even Chuck, I simply repeat this segment, to help master-off this post:

If we take the Shadow as the reflection of the collective soul, which then becomes the substantiative Prima Materia through which all things come (x), including even the potential of Chuck and Amara as manifestations of the primitive concept of masculine and feminine, light and dark as among the first thoughts in the cosmos. But in such by it all things are born, even the universe or the gods, in this proposed theory. It is the primitive self asking (per the far-above chart), first–well, WTF, why am I thinking, but after that – who are they, and then who am I, and then eventually who are you, before the end of the soul’s journey on its path is Who Art Thou, long ventured within the constructed realm to learn what it means that we even exist.

Those first thoughts then create the totemic pillars of creation by which it can explore the very meaning of existence, even if its own thoughts have made cages and trappings for itself in the expansion of infinite time, but those cages are themselves the vehicles of higher learning and experience, and without those cages, the rest is for naught.

This is the nature of the Prima Materia, the One Thing by which all comes which I linked above. If the soul and Prima Materia are synonymous, then while the universe comes by grace, then all things -- even grace -- come by way of the raw template of the collective soul, which then structures all resulting thought and experience through an infinite series of independent human experience that defines who were are, independent to ourselves, beyond the vat of primitive consciousness that binds us.

The question even comes, why not just reset time? But I am good with who I am. I am good with who you are. This isn't just a story. It's our lives. So god or no god, you go to hell.

And so the reincarnate journey of the man, through the many deaths and rebirths of Sam and Dean and lessons gained within the universe, begins to lock on to the meaning of the independent self in what it means in full, beyond the challenges sent by the creator that may very well be a reflection of our own primal thoughts, our doubts, our fears, our internalized challenges not too unlike the Shadow which again I raise, and point back to the above-linked protogenic discussion of the masculine and feminine paths: In this premise, are Chuck and Amara anything less than the Animus and Anima of humanity, should the Shadow be their forefather?

The path of alchemy, before it became pursuit of literal gold, was about self completion and sovereignty. The phases I have listed above, as well as a brief overview of Dabb's use of it, but if anyone wants a visual aide in these, check out these three videos (x) (x) (x) and remember that Chuck desperately wants them to believe that nothing Gold can stay, should it complete this path; because should man become Gold, they also become God, and he has no authority here. Because in the end, if we abandon the cages -- be it human bodies or heaven -- in here, in this headspace that is Chuck's, we're all just projections of the primitive man trying to find our independent meaning in life. So in here, we're all the same. So in here, Chuck's all talk. And Chuck's afraid, and even wounded by elements of his own creation fallen into the free hands of man.

And so to FULLY hook back, the effects of the fall --

To be detached in various tiers from the divine spheres of constructed intent, and surrendered unto man, or touched by man, or tied to man, or even converted unto man simply seems to be removing the lines of code that defines the constructed universe and instead leaves only the experience of soul, be it directly gained or by proxy. And with that comes many things -- be that the oft-discussed sexuality of angels or any of their other senses, but also their ability like Castiel to understand "complex" ideas like independent thought and function that is otherwise like "explaining poetry to fish" to his kin. I remind you of Agent Smith in the Matrix, who was essentially infected with the power of the One that completely started warping the laws of the universe and, eventually, left the universe, to become the body of man outside of the universe.

It is the universe falling into man, as man at some point seems to have fallen into the universe. And their child now waits beyond the universe, holding council with Death and the Inky Man over what to do from here.

The human experience is double-sided. By it we learn, experience, and exist; but as chuck designed the sandbox, so too did he the bodies as cages. So be that "hedonism" or anything else, these are limitations and bindings. It is not the limits themselves, as much as what we learn in facing them, that becomes who we are as people, and what meaning we bring to our own existence. And this, some angels themselves have chosen to convert and surrender themselves to, some more successfully than others, but the ultimate point between all of them is "Free Will", whether they like PBJ, sex, or good water pressure at the same time -- something that only comes from divorcing themselves from the divine spheres, when otherwise they're numb to bullets or a knife through the heart. The universe simply operates. Man experiences. The universe learns more of itself only by way of man, as man learns the universe.

There are those who fall that do not embrace humanity, but instead explore their creation. These are rogue programs, but still limited in their function. Be that angling out a line at a river, or just needling humanity as lesser ants. But these do not come to the same essence of humanity that those who choose to fall into it and truly experience it do. They still lack a great deal of motivation or purpose, as in breaking away from their programming without gaining genuine compulsion to want, to seek, to find, they find fascinations between their own strips of code that immerse themselves in, and sit, and observe, still not too unlike Anna before completely divorcing herself from her grace.

It is humanity, be it indirect or direct, that proxies the ability to experience, desire, and enjoy, and that more than anything is the nature of man and his power. It is the path of the Soul between Gevurah and Hesed; from the divine spheres descending, passive intellect and active intellect from the different pillars, and hidden higher learnings, reach by way of Spirit and Mind towards the individual self, strapped across passive and active emotion to learn the individual self. From the angle of man, in the material world, and the body as a manifestation of it, our ego, identity, and other evolutions of the mind TOWARDS the self of individuality lead from Tiferet, by path of the soul, into those emotions to climb the tree towards the divine self. Hell, I'll repost the chart so you don't have to scroll.

Castiel, the consciousness of the divine, with active spirit and mind, and intellect, descended towards the individual self within the realm of ego and super ego, and learned of them through Dean Winchester, while hedging at the sphere of emotional complexes and the identity of the self by which he chose to fall into the world and humanity, into and below and between the cross paths of the soul, and in those paths attained a soul. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, was lifted to explore the upper spheres in reverse, to understand the divine self gradually, and with time, as we now prepare to face within season 15.

Man is freedom. And some fall into it. But man can conquer the tree of his own ironic fashioning. The only absolute is what thou wills of it.

The rest is commentary.

Let there be gold. But all that is gold does not glimmer.

#supernatural #spn #meta #my meta #mine #pagan life #souls #angels #the fall #tree of life #spirit #mind #body #physical realm #hermeticism #qabbalah

75 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years

Text

Helstrom: The Comic History of Marvel’s Son of Satan

https://ift.tt/33Vbv3V

On Oct. 16, Hulu will be releasing the latest Marvel tie-in series Helstrom. It’s not so much like one of those upcoming Disney+ MCU shows that feature high-profile superheroes telling stories that will be important to the overall fictional universe. It’s more like Daredevil or Runaways where quality be damned, you’re never going to hear anyone in the movies make anything close to a reference to it, but it counts as part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe anyway.

The series is about siblings Daimon Helstrom and Ana Helstrom, who have seemingly normal lives, but oppose demons and evil people on the side. Their mother is institutionalized, which is fairly true to the comics, but their father is also referred to as “a powerful serial killer.”

In the comics, things are a bit grander. Their father isn’t just any serial killer, but a variation of Satan. Marvel has a bunch of guys whose identities are “basically Satan, but not really.” Instead of suits and turtlenecks, the two have comic adventures where they dress like they shopped off the sexy Halloween costume rack at Party City.

Daimon Helstrom (played by Tom Austen) gets both L’s in the comics as Daimon Hellstrom, but also has the rad nickname of Son of Satan. Shockingly, he’s a good guy! Mostly. Even when bare-chested with a glowing pentagram over his torso. Even with a magical pitchfork as his weapon of choice.

Son of Satan and his sister Satana are essentially the Marvel versions of Dante and Vergil from Devil May Cry. Both are half-human/half-devil and they lean on opposite sides of their genetics.

So let’s say you want to get into Hellstrom’s comic book exploits. Well, you’re in luck because we have a list of his main character runs since showing up in 1973.

The Early Spotlight (1973-1975)

Hellstrom made his first appearance in Ghost Rider #1. In the first two issues of that series, Hellstrom was hired as an exorcist to help deal with a missing woman who had been possessed. Interestingly enough, they never gave a clear look at Hellstrom in those two issues other than the demonic birthmark on his chest.

Initially, Hellstrom had a Jekyll and Hyde gimmick to the point that he told the woman’s loved ones to lock him up in a dark room and not let him out no matter what he said. Unlike the supporting characters in Young Frankenstein, the bozos didn’t take that to heart and let Hellstrom’s more maniacal personality Son of Satan loose.

Sidenote: His adventures were originally going to be called “the Mark of Satan” with more emphasis on Satan as the antagonist, but doing comics focused on Satan was deemed a little over-the-line, so they changed it.

Second sidenote: I did not hit her, it’s bullshit, I did not hit her, I DID NOT! Oh hi, Mark of Satan!

How Helstrom Became One of Marvel Television’s Last Shows Standing

By Alec Bojalad

Son of Satan’s adventures continued into Marvel Spotlight #12-24. It didn’t take long for Marvel to realize that giving him a double-identity was kind of a lame idea and instead had Satan Sr. magically handwave that away and make Son of Satan just one dude. Definitely for the better as he no longer felt so blatantly like Marvel’s answer to Jason Blood/Etrigan.

Hellstrom continued to fight against ghoulish enemies while opposing his father’s ways and dated some generic woman whose name I couldn’t tell you if you paid me a million dollars. It all culminated in a really strong finale issue where Hellstrom fought against and with his sister Satana, but maybe ignore the part where Hellstrom had a dream about the two of them making out.

Striking Out Solo (1975-1977)

Son of Satan had his own self-titled ongoing series that only lasted eight issues. From the beginning, Hellstrom went to Hell to basically tell off his dad as a way to say that this series wouldn’t be about their rivalry. Instead, it was Son of Satan dealing with a bunch of random villains that nobody would ever really remember.

There was one ridiculous enemy named the Possessor (not to be confused with the Elder of the Universe) who wore a mask to hide the fact that he had demon faces where his ears are supposed to be. Too bad he never showed up outside of this series.

It was a trippy outing, but ended before it could find its footing.

Demon Defender (1981-1983)

The Defenders are, of course, the bundle of heroes who don’t quite fit in with the Avengers, Fantastic Four, or X-Men but need people to hang out with. Guys like Hulk, Dr. Strange, Namor, Valkyrie, etc. Son of Satan became a regular ally in the team’s early days, appearing to help out every now and then. Most notably, he was part of a storyline where the Serpent Society kidnapped the Defenders and Clea put together a second team to rescue them, featuring the likes of Son of Satan, Daredevil, and Luke Cage.

Then again, the only thing anyone truly remembers about those issues is a very bizarre and legendary scene of a random guy getting killed by an Elf with a Gun.

As the series reached its 92nd issue, Hellstrom finally joined the team. On one hand, having Son of Satan on the team meant the Defenders had to take on the occult more than usual. On the other hand, Hellstrom soon fell in love with fellow Defender Hellcat, who was regularly dealing with constantly being possessed and turning into a scantily-clad demoness.

When Defenders hit its 100th issue, they did a really climactic storyline where a handful of the various Marvel Devil guys invaded Earth and Son of Satan had to take on Father of Son of Satan for the fate of Earth. The conclusion is rather surprising.

Prince of Lies (1993-1994)

Okay, so Daimon Hellstrom and Patsy Walker have been married for ten years (our time). It’s a fairytale romance where they’ve made a few guest appearances here and there, but have otherwise retired, happily ever after. What could POSSIBLY taint such true love?

90s comics. That’s your answer.

Welcome to Hellstorm: Prince of Lies, a 21-issue ongoing series where every issue looks like a Nine Inch Nails video and they try to see how much lanky nudity they can get away with showing in a Marvel comic. Like, holy crap, there has to be a world record for shadowed-out junk in this series. They even edit in some obvious, hastily-drawn underwear on characters at times as if the editor has realized they’ve gone too far.

It’s a gritty and grimy series that you’d expect from a 90s comic where much of it is written by Warren Ellis and the main character is Satan’s son. Lots of spikes, sharp teeth, long hair, suffering, insanity, and so on. It’s most definitely a product of its time.

Plus it’s called “Hellstorm” instead of “Hellstrom.” Scout’s honor, I didn’t notice the difference until my editor pointed it out.

Maximum Hellstorm (2006-2007)

Ah, Marvel MAX. The days when Marvel decided to give R-rated comics a shot and just threw everything at the wall. Hellstorm: Son of Satan was one of them, going for five issues. By this point, we’re in the mid-00s, so Hellstrom has a more down-to-earth look and is constantly talking to his father on a cellphone and tries so hard not to remind us what he looked like in the 70s and 80s.

But because it’s Marvel MAX, it means that his adventure is filled with lots of curse words, ultra-violence, gross demon boobs, and explicit Jesus imagery you normally wouldn’t see in a comic like this.

While the whole “Hellstrom messes with Egyptian underworld deities” storyline is a bit high concept, it still feels more like the new Hulu show than anything else.

Zombie Slayer (2009)

Speaking of gritty Marvel trends, there’s Marvel Zombies! While the initial Ultimate Fantastic Four storyline and the first two volumes of Marvel Zombies dealt with the happenings of a doomed universe, the next few volumes went slightly more uplifting. After all, sometimes you need to have people to root for who can back it up.

In Marvel Zombies 4, the Black Talon and the Hood (under the influence of Dormammu) try to use the decapitated head of Zombie Deadpool (otherwise known as Headpool) to bring forth the zombie apocalypse in the regular Marvel universe. Yes, we actually have canon stakes this time.

To prevent this, we have the Midnight Sons, made up of Son of Satan, Morbius, Jennifer Kale, Werewolf by Night, and Man-Thing. It’s an incredibly badass group working through an incredibly badass adventure. Too bad the team doesn’t last.

On a similar note, around this time there was a miniseries called the Last Defenders where Son of Satan was a major character. It’s just that by the time the team came together, they were an immediately-forgotten afterthought, so there’s no use in giving it its own entry.

Ghost Riders in the Sky (2009-2010)

Jason Aaron had a really, really, really great run on Ghost Rider. Most definitely read it. It’s pure grindhouse and I love it.

The whole run finished with Ghost Riders: Heaven’s on Fire. This culmination featured Johnny Blaze and Danny Ketch working together against a corrupt angel, the anti-Christ, and a group of villains from earlier in the run teaming up.

At least they have Daimon Hellstrom there to help out. Unfortunately, Hellstrom looks outright goofy with a bald head and Fu-Manchu mustache. The story brings back Jaine, his EXTREME love interest from the 90s series who he ended up with after his relationship with Patsy went very south.

Anyhow, Jason Aaron’s Ghost Rider run. Read it!

Strikeforce (2019-2020)

Much like how X-Men had X-Force as the team that would do the really dirty work, Avengers had a spinoff team called Strikeforce. Made up of Winter Soldier, Angela, Blade, Spider-Woman, Wiccan, and Spectrum, the team soon brought Hellstrom into the fold. Which is just as well, since he was working for Baron Zemo for a little while and really needed to get his head back on straight.

Unfortunately for Hellstrom, 1) he retained his bald look from Heaven’s on Fire and 2) the series didn’t last all that long. Only nine issues, sadly. Eh, it was fun while it lasted.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

At least he’s joining the Savage Avengers next! And they’re giving him his hair back!

The post Helstrom: The Comic History of Marvel’s Son of Satan appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/31dX5KF

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

2 notes · View notes