#like fucking obviously they wouldn’t touch that in the lore but that doesn’t change it being weird (if it even. does happen)
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#so fucking tired I want to gensh*n I really do I enjoy it I want it to be good but why the FUCK have they made the choices they have#when it comes to character design and lore#like. I know. I just. I know they can do better I want to believe dammit#I can’t but I want to#like pcktknife said in the tags of one their posts they REALLY need a diversity reader or whatever#like a person who checks stuff to make sure it’s not racist/antisemitic/ableist/etc. (I forgot the exact word for it sorry >.>)#like I think the thing that frustrates me most is that the people working are character design are ENTIRELY capable of doing better#and idk if it’s them or the design director or the fucking marketing team (whoever checks how profitable shit would be) or whoever#but istfg please talk to me in person I will not start biting you I swear I promise#like fuck idk what I was expecting. I mean I did but fuck idk there was hope#cause they’re CLEARLY capable of designing characters with darker skin and the only conclusions are that they’re either not considering them#or just fucking actively choosing not to design characters like that#and I fhufruydfvabyubhj#eqsfahbhleeafbj#I just want the game to be good man#fuck and there’s more to it cause like why would all the dark-skinned characters be concentrated in sumeru in the first place#like fucking obviously they wouldn’t touch that in the lore but that doesn’t change it being weird (if it even. does happen)#I’m just tired like. we could’ve had the world. the fucking universe even. but no I guess#eughuro f1jhdbvhubddvjg#vhgakdvghkqekbhh#also for Those fucking people in the twitter replies tell me your location so I can tear at your flesh and gnaw on your bones#and by that I mean talk peacefully. of course.
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I wanna talk about Janet Drake
I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.
That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.
And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.
So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)
When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.
Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.
To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.
However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.
In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.
I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.
Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)
This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...
This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.
That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.
(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)
Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.
By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.
Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.
Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.
Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.
And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.
Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.
I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.
That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.
God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.
Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.
As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.
From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.
Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.
Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.
After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...
Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?
Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.
Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.
The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.
I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.
And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”
And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.
I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.
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ok as promised here's my whole thedosian astrology spiral in one big post
underneath a read more bc i love you all
starting w my tags from the first post bc context:
#bc i saw a post that put the zodiac seasons (for thedas) roughly from the 20th of one month to the 20th of the next #like it is irl #but the zodiac seasons coincide w the actual seasons #the start of aries season is the vernal equinox #the start of cancer season is the summer solstice #the start of libra season is the autumnal equinox #the start of capricorn season is the winter solstice #and (to my knowledge??) the seasons in thedas start with their annum holidays or whatever #wintersend = beginning of spring #summerday = beginning of summer #all souls day = beginning of fall #satinalia = beginning of winter #(someone PLEASE correct me if im wrong on that) #well i know summerday and satinalia are right but #ANYWAY #using that logic the zodiac seasons would also start on those days #thedas-aries season would run from the 1st to the 30th of guardian #thedas-taurus would be 1-30 drakonis #thedas-gemini would be 1-30 cloudreach #so that thedas-cancer aka the start of summer aka summerday aka THE FIRST OF BLOOMINGTIDE #kSLFdfslkdFDKs #anyway. now i have to be Right about this#my previous hyperfixation and my current one.....coming together....to make me into a Massive Bitch<3
when would the zodiac signs' seasons take place in the thedosian calendar?
so bc the zodiac signs are based on constellations and all the lore etc that accompanies them i'm not even gonna touch that (YET.....yet...) but since spring, summer, autumn, and winter start on the first days of guardian, bloomingtide, august, and firstfall, respectively, so would those particular seasons of the zodiac
thedas-equivalent-of-aries season would just be 1-30 guardian, bc irl the beginning of aries season coincides with the beginning of spring and continues until the sun moves into taurus; all the cardinal signs (aries, cancer, libra, capricorn) begin on the first of the season like that, so we can assume that – IF there are 12 zodiac signs in thedas – the sun is in each sign for approximately a month. so that in 3 months the next cardinal sign can coincide w the beginning of that season
imo it makes sense that (if we're assuming thedas also has 12 signs and that their sun spends roughly equal time in all of them) four of them would coincide w the beginning of the seasons. so like yeah thedas is fake and for all we know they have 10 zodiac signs and they all start on wildly different days, but then everything is just shooting in the dark and where's the fun in that. obviously the changing of the seasons is important to them bc their holidays center around them, therefore i don't think it's wildly out of the blue to think that whatever star sign system they have going on would similarly coincide w the changing seasons
again i'm not currently bothering with picking constellations/symbols/stories/traits/etc for each sign so i'll just say first, second, third etc. point being the seasons of the zodiac would actually be like they are below, rather than how they are irl (aka the 20th-ish of each month to the 20th-ish of the next; it's like that irl bc our calendar is stupid and the beginning of the seasons randomly happens 2/3 of the way thru the month):
first sign = begins spring, 1-30 guardian
second sign ≈ 1-30 drakonis
third sign ≈ 1-30 cloudreach
fourth sign = begins summer, 1-30 bloomingtide
fifth sign ≈ 1-30 justinian
sixth sign ≈ 1-30 solace
seventh sign = begins autumn, 1-30 august
eighth sign ≈ 1-30 kingsway
ninth sign ≈ 1-30 harvestmere
tenth sign = begins winter, 1-30 firstfall
eleventh sign ≈ 1-30 haring
twelfth sign ≈ 1-30 wintermarch
okay so we have cardinal signs, what about fixed and mutable signs?
the cardinal signs are CALLED the cardinal signs bc they begin the seasons; they're the ~get up and goers~ of the zodiac, motivated, leaders, trail blazers, energetic, etc. they litchrally bring in the changes of the season so that makes sense right
so IF we are to continue w that logic — and here's where i'm getting (even more) conjecture-y, but i feel p confident that since 4 of the 5 major holidays in thedas are based on the changing seasons aka thats important — then the traits of the thedas-equivalent of those signs would also have similarities to the irl cardinal signs (namely the traits listed above)
but there are also FIXED signs and MUTABLE signs: so called bc fixed signs are firmly planted in the middle of each season (taurus in spring, leo in summer, scorpio in autumn, aquarius in winter) and bc mutable signs precede the major change from one season to the next (gemini from spring to summer, virgo from summer to autumn, sagittarius from autumn to winter, pisces from winter-to-spring)
and again bc these are based on the seasons, it also makes sense to me that, generally speaking, the signs in the middle and at the end of the seasons would also be distinct in some way. and probably have similarities to irl fixed and mutable signs, tho i'm not as obstinate about that as i am abt the cardinal signs. but anyway MOVING ON
[the one section with the fan-made sky map ended up being relatively useless even tho the sky map was in fact very cool]
general disclaimer that at this point i’m literally just. straight up guessing lmao
also since we only have so many constellations we see in-game, and since they each come with a codex giving us at least a little background info (aka CRUMBS), any suggestions of which constellations are part of the zodiac are based on those specifically. obviously in real life theres a bazillion constellations that aren’t part of the zodiac, but we do not have the luxury of knowing every constellation in thedas so i am going with what we got
the thedosian constellation map (the canon one) is different than the fan-made sky map, but because i highly doubt anyone at bioware could’ve predicted someone would be As Insane As I Am Being Right Now about it, i don’t think they probably put a lot of thought into making it lmao. the fan made sky map DID have thought put into it tho, and it actually features the constellations we see in-game, so i’m going w that one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
AND. i’m gonna look at the names of the months (both the fancy ancient tevinter names and the ~low/common~ names) in comparison w the constellations we have at our disposal bc why the fuck wouldn’t they be related in some way. this has no basis in any deeper logic than “maybe the fact that the ‘common’ name for this month is drakonis has somethinng to do with the constellation draconis idfk” but like. it’s literally the same name but with one letter (that makes the same sound) changed. i don’t think i’m asking too much here lmao
signs that start the seasons
wintersend is canonically associated with the old god urthemiel; the codex entry for the constellation bellitanus states it (is believed that it) was originally associated with urthemiel. using the same reasoning as with satinalis/satinalia, i’m gonna assume that bellitanus-as-a-zodiac-season would start with wintersend and last through the whole of guardian
summerday was once called andoralis, dedicated to the old god andoral; the codex entry for the constellation servani states it is thought to be representative of andoral, but where the wiki says andoral is the god of unity, the codex says andoral was the god of slaves. (doesn’t clarify if andoral is like, a figure to which the enslaved would turn to in their plight, as like a savior? or whether andoral is...just associated with slaves in some way.) i have no idea what the fuck to do w that except assume bioware is back on their bullshit! i’m gonna come back to this later
all soul’s day was once funalis, dedicated to dumat, old god of silence; the codex entry for the constellation silentir (which literally means ‘silence’ lmao) is usually said to represent dumat. so by this logic we might say the zodiac season for silentir begins with all soul’s day and ends with the last day of august
the constellation satinalis is canonically associated with satinalia, so it makes sense to me that if satinalis is part of the zodiac, its season would start with satinalia / last through the month in which the holiday takes place. aka firstfall
with these in mind, we have (tentatively) 3 of our 4 cardinal signs aka the signs that begin the seasons: bellitanus for spring, silentir for autumn, and satinalis for winter
looking at the fan-made sky map, these aren’t super evenly spaced apart (but then again neither are irl constellations perfectly proportioned so whatever!) HOWEVER. they do still, at least vaguely 😭, follow a clockwise pattern in the correct order of guardian/spring → summerday/bloomingtide → all soul’s day/august → satinalia/firstfall. it’s about the small victories ok *inquisitor ameridan voice* take moments of happiness where you find them or whatever
what about the other 8 signs???
great question!!! haha!!!
✨I Am Once Again About To Start Guessing Wildly✨
because even tho the “cardinal signs” go clockwise and in order, there’s still an uneven amount of constellations BETWEEN them. there should be 2 between each but, for example, silentir and satinalis only have tenebrium between them. and there are fucking....TEN constellations between satinalis and bellitanus so we’re going to have to get even more creative somehow<3 lmao
these are all taken from the codex entries for the constellations (the names are links!)
TOTH: tevinter old god of fire, thats p much it. the codex does say sometimes toth is depicted as a “flaming orb” which maybe i truly have succumbed to the brain worms but i hear ‘orb’ and ‘god’ and ‘flame’ (aka light/energy/etc or perhaps idk a fucking explosion) and yall already know where my dumb ass is going w that 🥴
since the rules are made up and the points dont matter, i have decided Fuck Bioware, toth is going with summerday now. i dont give a rats ass about andoral since apparently they dont care to tell us what he was actually god of, so welcome toth you are now in charge of the beginning of summer bc i said so
TENEBRIUM: associated with lusacan, tevinter old god of darkess/night. also obvious associations with falon’din, elven god of death, whose sacred animal is an owl
pea brain analysis: its dark in winter lol; slightly larger, maybe lima-bean-sized brain analysis: the beginning of a new year (aka first day aka first of wintermarch) could hypothetically be associated w the past ‘dying.’ and also the holiday was originally an annual check to make sure everyone was alive, so i don’t see why gods of death can’t be associated w making sure all your loved ones weren’t taken by said god of death lol
ELUVIA: commonly called “sacrifice,” it’s (apparently) based on an orlesian tale in which a woman is saved from a “””lustful mage””” (i love bioware i love this frachise) by being placed in the sky and becoming a constellation. before this inspiring tale that is definitely not anti mage propaganda, eluvia may have represented razikale, tevinter old god of mystery. the imagery of this constellation is a seated woman with a cloud right above her - literally like her head is in the clouds (also bc it sounds like ‘eluvian’ i’m like 👀)
i’m inclined to pair this one up with cloudreach both bc the ancient tevinter name is “eluviesta” and bc the woman in the story is literally. in the clouds. simple enough
PERAQUIALUS: it’s a boat! but apparently a “primitive vessel” sailed by ancient peoples like the neromenians. according to the codex the translation is usually ‘across the sea’ rather than ‘boat’ but that doesnt rly help me lol
sorry my beloved. before me stand 10 beautiful constellations but i only have 9 pictures in my hands. you are not thedas’s next top zodiac sign
DRACONIS: obviously its a dragon lol
i think the drakonis (the month) / draconis (this constellation) correlation is. pretty evident lmao and since we have all but thrown credible hypothesizing out the window, why NOT?? why not make drakonis the season of draconis!!! 🤡
FERVENIAL: an oak; some believe it could be representative of andruil, elven goddess of the hunt, as the vir tanadhal (“way of the three trees”) is her whole thing
sigh idk *spins wheel* leaves start changing color in mid-late autumn so *spins wheel again* fervenial can go with harvestmere which is thedas-october it’s fine
JUDEX: a big ol sword, sometimes called the “sword of mercy,” referring to pre-andrastian concepts of justice in ancient tevinter
speaking of pulling ideas right out of my ass, if this constellation is associated w justice it makes sense to me that its season would be in the month of justinian. bc again why the fuck not!
EQUINOR: the stallion / a horse, sometimes depicted as a seated griffon. some speculate the original imagery was a halla, linking the constellation to the elven god ghilan’nain aka “mother of the halla”
i am really grasping at straws here HAHA but the word haring (as a gerund/present participle of the verb ‘hare’) can mean to run or go with great speed. horses go fast, ghilan’nain is invoked when elves want to travel quickly, blah blah blah. whatever
SOLIUM: the sun; one interpretation is that it indicates an ancient fascination with ALL objects in the sky (aka both the sun and moon[s]), another interpretation associates it with the elven god elgar’nan, aka “eldest of the sun”
alright i know the name ‘solas’ means pride in elvhen and the word ‘solace’ means like comfort/consolation, neither of which have jack shit to do with the sun, so i shouldn’t assume solis is associated with solium exclusively bc they start with ‘sol’ and sol means sun in...a lot of irl languages lol HOWEVER. i have an even worse reasoning we can fall back on which is that it’s in summer and it’s...fucking sunny??? LMAO im so sorry
FENRIR: the white wolf 👁👄👁 scholars apparently dont know wtf to do w this one; obviously there is a case to be made about its association with fen’harel
i have talked myself in circles on this one but whenever i try to type it out it makes Zero Fucking Sense lmao so. i may come back and edit this but for now just know it’s going with kingsway and i want yall to know i do have some stupid nebulous reasoning for that in my silly little brain but communicating it is simply not in the cards for me today god bless 🙏
alright so what bullshit have you proposed at the end of all this EXTREMELY shaky guesswork, queen?
HERE YOU GO I GUESS
Bellitanus: begins spring, 1-30 Guardian
Draconis: 1-30 Drakonis
Eluvia: 1-30 Cloudreach
Toth: begins summer, 1-30 Bloomingtide
Judex: 1-30 Justinian
Solium: 1-30 Solace
Silentir: begins autumn, 1-30 August
Fenrir: 1-30 Kingsway
Fervenial: 1-30 Harvestmere
Satinalis: begins winter, 1-30 Firstfall
Equinor: 1-30 Haring
Tenebrium: 1-30 Wintermarch
next time i have a death wish i will come back and speculate what kind of traits would be associated w these signs (based on the ~lore~ surrounding the constellations, their tentative places as cardinal/fixed/mutable, etc) but i just wasted precious hours of my life on this and i cant look at it anymore!!!
also want to reiterate that, regarding the post i saw earlier that i disagreed with, my refutation of that argument ended like 2 reblogs many sections ago lol. the only thing i feel confident defending is that the different seasons of the zodiac would – based on the actual changing 4 seasons – start on the first of each month and end on the last day of each month, as opposed to the way it is in real life western astrology
all this other bullshit is just for fun (??? i guess????) and based ALMOST entirely on my own assumptions. informed by actual shit from the games ofc but mainly me just
EDIT: would like to add that i don't have world of thedas or any other supplementary shit; all i have at my disposal is the 3 games, their DLCs, and the wiki lol. so if there's anything here that WOT (or smth else) contradicts please lmk! and also sorry for any typos lmao
hope yall enjoyed witnessing this fully unhinged moment w me bye<3
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are there any stories/facts about your job/coworkers you can comfortably share? maybe something cool they did/you did with them recently? anyone that stands out in particular among them, without getting too specific for. clear reasons?
what's cheeseburger up to atm? any notable stories or anything about him recently, or has he been just living his best life as usual?
which of the skyloft NPCs do you particularly like? for arguments sake, this is excluding the more story relevant ones, so no groose + his gang, no zelda obviously, etc.
as an opposite to that, talk about groose! i've always loved him as a character, and the bits you've said about him and his relationship with link and zelda is always great! also, any notable kin memories you have of groose? especially things that occured after he left skyloft, or even after the demise fight. what did he get up to after the credits rolled?
fun stories about your loftwing? were there any traits you and him shared notably? or any that were more opposite?
what are some of your favorite things about your favorite iterations of zelda? what i mean by that is like... what do you like best about tetra/wind waker zelda? what about skyward zelda? botw zelda? they're similar but all unique people, so what endears you the most about each of them?
i know this is a lot, so don't feel like you have to answer in any specific time frame. take as long as is comfortable, and i hope this helps!! ~🍄
these are so many!!! thank you for being so generous!!!
are there any stories/facts about your job/coworkers you can comfortably share? maybe something cool they did/you did with them recently? anyone that stands out in particular among them, without getting too specific for. clear reasons?
most of the ppl i work w are. kinda rude to me all the time so i mostly just drown them out so i don’t go insane. but there is this one kid who is just, like, a ray of sunshine every time he walks into a room. and he works so hard and he cares about his work and i feel like he’s the only bitch who gets me. we vibe over zelda and will just get into debates about the lore on the clock and i look forward to seeing him a lot.
what's cheeseburger up to atm? any notable stories or anything about him recently, or has he been just living his best life as usual?
he’s just doin he. he sleeps a lot. sometimes in boxes. sometimes under beds. sometimes directly on top of me.
a few weeks back i went to the ER for what i figured out was a kidney stone and while i was literally on my bed writhing in pain trying to hold out until my grandparents got there cheeseburger just like, jumped up on top of me and immediately starting pissing on me, as if to say haha, check this out. i can urinate better than you.
which of the skyloft NPCs do you particularly like? for arguments sake, this is excluding the more story relevant ones, so no groose + his gang, no zelda obviously, etc.
i love all of them so much oh no... everyone i love i love for kinnie reasons like i am tempted to say jakamar cause even though he’s kind of a sleazy dude he, as previously mentioned, smuggled me woodscraps to whittle fsdgjkfsgh
but parrow gives good hugs. and henya always has snacks hidden somewhere. and pumm will give you soup on the house sometimes if he can tell you’re in a rough mood. and and and........ i wuv skyloft. this is all kinnie bullshit actually.
as an opposite to that, talk about groose! i've always loved him as a character, and the bits you've said about him and his relationship with link and zelda is always great! also, any notable kin memories you have of groose? especially things that occured after he left skyloft, or even after the demise fight. what did he get up to after the credits rolled?
talked about him a lil bit in my last ask hehe
fun stories about your loftwing? were there any traits you and him shared notably? or any that were more opposite?
aepon & i were the kind of pair where we seemed really dissimilar on the surface but i think if anyone actually knew us they’d be able to discern pretty quickly that we were 100% twinning. like at face value i was a pretty calm and quiet person who was just, like. spacey and sleepy and vibing while things happened around me, and aepon was this absolute speed demon who had the biggest, loudest presence any time he entered a space. ppl in skyloft called him my red terror.
but the thing about my bird is that he was stubborn to a fault, and recklessly brave, and he just didn’t. stop. and he loved fiercely, the second i was awake in the morning i’d hear him circling overhead and shrieking his happy little shriek, he’d fill my head with all his thoughts of hanging out with me while i was trying to concentrate on work. all those things, we had in common, but i wouldn’t have been able to tell you that. someone like zelda probably would have.
i think the best representation of it is at the beginning of everything when the tornado took zelda, the both of us just. dove right in. nothing else mattered, no conflict existed within either of us, i didn’t have to steer him in or send my intentions into our shared headspace, he just turned into an arrow flying straight into danger, and i went with him and we were one living being. like that’s our core. we are very opposite, until shit gets real, and then we are this beautiful unity tearing through the clouds.
what are some of your favorite things about your favorite iterations of zelda? what i mean by that is like... what do you like best about tetra/wind waker zelda? what about skyward zelda? botw zelda? they're similar but all unique people, so what endears you the most about each of them?
HOW DO I COUNT THE WAYS I LOVE ZELDA AHHHHH
oot!zelda’s determination to defy fate... the way she refuses, from the start, to give in to darkness even though she’s only a little girl. the way she sees my commoner ass just waltz up into her private garden after breaking into her house still dressed in my stupid forest clothes and shes like. oh fuck yeah, wanna help me overthrow the gerudo king? and we’re, can’t stress this enough, ten. she’s so confident like she never worries about being powerless or out of her element, she never for a second believes this isn’t something she can fight. and when everything goes to shit she just keeps fighting!!! and still has the time to remind me that i can keep fighting too!!! literally where did she get that personality i love her so much!!!!
tetra’s fucking... simmering fire. her perfect balance between action and thought. like you can tell she’s pissed off and wants to start throwing punches but she always has the self-control to assess if it’s the thing to do in the moment. I CAN’T DO THAT!!! i’m pissed off i want to swords!!!! that motherfucker over there is PROVOKING ME!!!!! and tetra has the same fire inside her but she’s always just, like, “shut the fuck up, link. put your sword away. we need to get the jump on him.” and im like, AHHHHHHH because she’s always right. literally always. i don’t know how she does this but i think about it constantly. i love her level head and her scheming heart and her choice to carve her own destiny. i like how she finds out she’s a legendary princess from an age long past with sacred blood and shes just like ‘that’s cool but actually i’m tetra and i like to cuss and steal.’ and just does that forever. it resonates with me especially because even though the gods acknowledged me as the hero of winds i, like, wasn’t a ‘true’ incarnation of the hero. it’s just what i decided to be with what i was given. she and i are two sides of that coin and there is something beautiful abt that i don’t have words for. in a lot of ways she was my inspiration.
skyward!zelda’s um. everything? everything. i am so in love with her. i am so in love... with her. i am finding it harder to describe her than everyone else here which is so silly because she’s easily the person i was closest with. she’s just, like, made of fire and love? of passion. everything she is stems from what she loves--she loves old legends, and cliche romance stories, and stargazing, and going on adventures. zelda romanticizes everything in her life, she’ll stop mid-sentence to make you look at the sky because it struck her as particularly beautiful today, meanwhile i’m just like. thats the sky i see it every day i live here. and she’s so brave, so fierce, so resilient--there’s literally nothing that could scare her, i’m certain she got to the surface and immediately started spitting curses at blins, if ghirahim had actually found her alone she would have tried to come at him clawing and spitting. i was always so chill because all my anger was Stored in The Zelda, she’d just fight half my battles for me before i could register they were battles. idk. zelda was such an optimist who took everything in stride and believed, no matter what, that she could make it her own and make it beautiful and find something to adore within it. i might have had a quieter disposition, but she was always better at dealing with change than me. it was calming. i love her so much.
botw!zelda’s passion and inquisitive heart, oh my god, oh my god. i’m going to fucking fight everyone in the kingdom who ever made her feel like she talks too much. god it enthralls me, the way she just talks and talks and talks and LETS ME LISTEN, she lets me just SIT THERE and BASK IN IT like some kind of COLD REPTILE ON A ROCK. i literally cannot comprehend how she can fit so much knowledge about so many different things in her brain, and the way she’s ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT, literally just getting together with her techie friends and building whole ass machines when she was like 6 years old. shes looking at me like ‘oh this child prodigy curse my shortcomings why cant i be pulling enchanted swords when IM 12′ and im like PRINCESS YOU’RE FUCKING COOLER THAN ME LIKE CONGRATS I TOUCH A SWORD SOMETIMES AND YOU COULD LITERALLY MAKE A ROBOT TO DO THAT FOR YOU oh my god the way she doesn’t see how incredible she is makes me go insane i feel insane just thinking about it she’s the coolest fucking person i’ve ever met she’s the coolest person in hyrule the kingdom is too good for her i want her to take apart hyrule castle brick by brick and just leave a note behind that says ‘im too cool for you’ and then she gets on my ancient magic motorcycle and rides off into the sunset to some paradise far away and if i’m LUCKY she takes me with her. i love zelda
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Oh yeah that reminds me of another question I've been meaning to ask (sorry to jump on you like this haha) but which vampire canon change in B&W annoys you the most? For me it's the whole 'even touching silver will harm a vampire' (when it's explained that Syanna figured out Dettlaff was a vampire because he wouldn't directly touch a silver candlestick). I just choose to ignore that detail bc I don't think it makes much sense haha
omg this is such a good ask im so excited to answer
first of all, i really agree with you, even when i hadn’t read the books fully i had read that one passage in lady of the lake where regis gestures with a silver fork at the banquet, and blood and wine tries to make it so like regis and dettlaff are the same “kind” of vampire, so this obviously doesn’t make any sense, and since it’s just such a small detail i tried to ignore it, like, maybe dettlaff just wanted to keep the silver candlestick fingerprint-free, ever consider that, syanna? you’re gonna pawn something, you don’t want like a billion fingerprints mucking it all up... and then syanna thought this made him a vampire, when in reality he was a vampire but the candlestick had fuckall to do with it
but yeah i think i’m gonna do like a top 5 style: TOP 5 THINGS CDPR GOT WRONG ABOUT THE VAMPIRES. im not gonna do a countdown because im a very direct person and think its best to get the worst out of the way.
1. their society and relationship with humans.
the thing that upsets me the most that cdpr changed is how vampires exist on the continent. stuff like tesham mutna and the unseen elder breaks canon lore so hard it makes me physically upset.
this is a bad thing because not only is the trope of “vampires control everything from the shadows as a secret society so they can feed on human blood” incredibly boring and overdone (it’s a trope, so it’s something that the witcher should stand to invert since that’s pretty much the purpose of the witcher), but it also has origins in antisemitism (the myth of the illuminati or “reptilians/secret societies controlling the world”, blood libel), so it’s super gross! i don’t want the vampires to be that trope, that’s completely unfair.
they already were something other than that trope, they already HAD their own society (or lack thereof) as part of the canon lore. maybe it is personal preference, but i think that their “anti-society” is super interesting. how does something like that function with no rules or figures of authority or customs? it’s incredibly different to the ways humans function in this universe, who are mostly bound around their nation, city/town/village, and home unit, and abide by strict custom and systems of authority. it’s really something to be explored from a lore perspective, there wasn’t a whole lot explained in canon (for good reason: see #2) so it has perfect potential to be elaborated upon in the adaptational spinoff that is the witcher games.
it makes them super boring and trope-y to have them all kowtow to One Figure Of Authority in the area. plus CDPR states that the reason toussaint is so perfect is that this secret society controls toussaint as an area to perfect blood, when toussaint literally existed as a fairy-tale duchy to be an OBSTACLE to geralt and his hansa in the saga. it was the “leave-your-quest” test. think of the island of the lotus eaters from the odyssey. it’s a perfect place, there’s no reason as to why it is perfect, it just is, and it keeps the company hostage there for months so they will get distracted and eventually forget what they came there for.
in canon as well, vampires do not seem to care much about humans. regis certainly does, but he is regis :). there was little conversation about how vampires view humans, rather about how humans view vampires and project their innermost fears and desires to them. further breaking some vampire tropes. in blood & wine. instead of that trope-flipping, we get... “vampires tortured humans out of curiosity and selfishness.” what? why would they do this? there is not much to gain, and it would take a lot of cooperation and effort to get to this point, which leads me to ask, HOW could they do this? as regis says in bof, there were only about 1,200 vampires when they arrived on the continent, so they were completely and utterly outnumbered as they were likely scattered around. they wouldn’t be able to build a castle and re-engineer toussaint to fit their needs. i understand that he is massively biased, but i feel like regis calls these first vampires “hapless survivors” for a reason, and also since regis is regis, i do not feel like he would feel this way about them if they committed massive crimes against humanity.
tl;dr for this point: not only is it fucked up for no reason but to be gross/shocking to the audience, but it also removes their purpose as a metaphor, which is #2.
2. the removal of their purpose as a metaphor in the story.
originally, the vampires are not meant to be the focus of the witcher series or even a smaller part of the series at all. they are simply a metaphor for aspects of human society so that regis can have a backstory. the vampires are nothing more than a fictional means of exploring the effects of alcoholism, and a thought experiment as to what an authority-less, family-less, custom-less society would be like. the question “what do youth do when they have no support and no guidance?” already is one of the witcher’s major questions as a saga, the vampires and regis’s backstory serves to be another one of the stories within it that fits this theme. except we add more conditions to the thought experiment this time, like “what if these youth never aged and were powerful enough to survive on their own?” there would be no reason for them to ever change or grow out of their behavior. it’s quite interesting, because it’s meant to reflect upon human nature, the vampires are metaphorically humans. there is no reason for regis to even be a vampire, except that he needs to be able to survive death and learn from his mistakes. a human would have died had he hit rock bottom like regis did, but since regis wasn’t human and could rise from the grave, he had the chance at a new life. humans don’t get second chances. this is the point of the entire story being about vampires.
now, i understand that the purpose of the witcher games is to entertain, unlike the point of the witcher book series, which are like any other books and serve an author’s message. so, it stands to reason that the vampires do not have to prove a strong point here, but they should retain their essential traits and serve as the metaphor which was already really interesting and deserves more explanation and thought. i think using a fictional lens to take a look at real-world issues can be helpful sometimes, when done respectfully and when still using creativity. even if it’s just to entertain, that doesn’t mean it should be brainless and throw all of the commentary out of the window.
the vampires as a subject for the game to focus on should really be a vessel for thought and critique. it should mean SOMETHING for them to be there, because they were originally a message and a metaphor.
but in blood & wine, they are incredibly shallow, only there to exist for the attention-getter of gore.
does it MEAN anything that dettlaff regenerated regis from his own flesh and blood? or does that just happen because we needed a convienient way to bring regis back and tie him to the antagonist? does it MEAN anything that dettlaff cuts off his own hand? or is that just because it’s cool and kinda gross. does it MEAN anything that the vampires attack beauclair? or is that just because there needed to be some violence and conflict.
there is no deeper meaning! it’s all just flashiness to shock the audience! it’s incredibly shallow and because it is shallow, it becomes boring and forgettable.
blood & wine focuses on details about the vampires that are gross, gorey or bloody, uncomfortable because of how nasty they are. and these elements have NO PURPOSE to the story other than to gross you out, like regis being regenerated, dettlaff skewering regis like a kebab, dettlaff cutting off his hand and that hand being handled by the bruxa, geralt, and regis, regis going crazy in a cage, syanna also getting skewered, etc. ... it’s this focus on the physical action that is happening on screen with little thought as to any deeper meaning that makes me tired and nauseous. why treat the vampires as savage animals?
as a mention in this topic, i am going to comment on how they deliberately changed the lore to “make childrens’ blood taste better than adults’ blood,” because that is mega-gross. why change it to focus on child endangerment? that’s nasty! why make orianna feed on children when it was LITERALLY canon that the “best” blood was that of strong adults? if you want to make orianna morally grey, she could have owned any other kind of place to get blood from. see #2 for more discussion of this.
3. their focus on the conjunction of the spheres.
the vampires never had this obsession with “returning home.” i... have no idea where this comes from. remember how i just said that i appreciate a metaphor for real-life when it is done respectfully? CDPR gave us this awkward metaphor for the vampires “wanting to go home” because they have to “assimilate” in this new world, apparently every vampire ever misses their homeland. ... it’s the story of immigrants who didn’t have a choice to be born in The New Land, but they were anyways, and now they want to go home. and it’s the story of minority groups, who are overshadowed by the society they live in, but cannot be themselves in, because it would mean violence.
this is an incredibly awkward metaphor just because it’s not done well, but also CDPR literally just focused on how extremely violent the vampires are, and how they also control everything so they can use the humans they were thrown in with to their own fancies. this is... i didn’t know that the metaphors for fantasy racism in the witcher could get any worse than sapkowski’s were.
also, there’s some weird lore-breaking moments when regis says he misses the vampire homeworld or whatever, and i just am left staring at my laptop like. you’re only like, 4 centuries old, regis. the conjunction of the spheres occured more than 3 times your age in the past. plus the fact that regis in baptism of fire calls himself a “descendant,” it’s obvious that someone at cdpr just didn’t do their research when writing those lines.
4. their power level and exactly how powerful they are.
let’s take a moment to think about a grain of truth. the second story in the witcher books, it was written before sapkowski had a lot of the vampire lore down-pat. geralt says things like “it’s silver, this blade is silver” and “an ordinary vampire couldn’t come out in the sun,” which are incongruent with what we learn in baptism of fire about vampires. but nevertheless, there’s a lot which is still accurate to the vampires, such as that VEREENA ABSOLUTELY KICKS GERALT’S ASS. geralt very nearly DIED in that fight, he was ABOUT to die, but nivellen saved him at the last split-second. geralt finds out that vereena is a bruxa, and he is alarmed, he shouts and then falls on his ass. he scrambles, he’s unprepared to deal with a foe THIS powerful. he manages to land his sword on her during the fight, but it barely harms her. she dodges incredibly, and swipes of his sword that should have hit do not. she screams terribly, and geralt is in incredible, writhing pain. he uses his signs to help him, this is no normal fight with a normal foe. flash forward to in baptism of fire, when geralt meets another vampire, one that is considerably more powerful and unique than vereena was. dandelion asks geralt, if ... potentially... maybe... and geralt responds that he sincerely doubts that he could beat regis in a fight, and he really does not want to have to try.
geralt was BESTED by vampires in the books. he was as close as a witcher can get to being INTIMIDATED by their power. but what happens in blood & wine? there’s like 8 bruxae and alpors ganging up on you and you can easily vanquish all of them with your silver sword and by knocking back maybe a glass of black blood and white raffard’s decoction. it’s fine, it’s easy to kill vampires. geralt doesn’t hesitate to fight dettlaff. he doesn’t worry, he doesn’t tell anyone that he sincerely doubts that he could beat him in a fight, that he doesn’t want to have to try. instead, it’s regis talking geralt out of the fight, trying to advocate for peace.
CDPR massively nerfed the vampires just to make them easier targets for the player. i think this is unfair to how the vampires were powerful threats to be reckoned with in the books, foes that even geralt, a witcher, did not want to face. not even out of geralt’s pacifism and apprehension to slay innocent and/or sentient beings, but out of not wanting to fucking hit that die button
i also understand that regis was supposedly less powerful now because he was just tired from being regenerated, but vampires like bruxae should have been able to turn into giant bats. there’s nothing stopping them besides cdpr not wanting to code it in, just like how they didn’t want to code in bruxae or alpors wearing clothes (because vampires do wear clothes in canon).
5. their classification: adding new vampire species, distinguishing between “higher vampires” and “TRUE higher vampires”
just plain annoying to me. there’s only seven types of vampires, as regis says in baptism of fire:
“In the case of higher vampires, never, I agree,” Emiel Regis said softly. “From what I know alpors, katakans, moolas, bruxas, and nosferats don’t mutilate their victims. On the other hand, fleders and ekimmas are pretty brutal with their victim’s remains.”
“Bravo,” Geralt said, looking at him in genuine admiration. “You didn’t leave out a single class of vampire, Nor did you mention any of the imaginary ones, which only exist in fairy-tales.”
so there are seven classes... five of which are higher vampires which can probably be classified by having sentient thought and not harming their victims, two of which are lesser vampires, which are quite violent with their victims and more animalistic for this reason.
also i am confused as to why CDPR made fleders the least likely to sustain flight, when their name i’m pretty certain is taken from fledermaus, the german word for bat, which just means flying mouse (feel free to correct me if i’m wrong, idk german), so “fleder” should just mean “flutter,” or “to fly.”
SO. it’s total bullshit to be like “there’s some higher vampires and then TRUE/REAL higher vampires, which cannot be killed...” and it confuses everyone as to who is ACTUALLY a higher vampire and who is not, when the system we had before wasn’t broken at all!
BONUS. general changes to vampire powers
it annoys me how they turn into puffs of mist/smoke instead of vanishing, simply vanishing. no deeper reason why, it just bothers me because you’re not supposed to be able to see them at all, that’s the point of turning invisible/incorporeal.
there was no mention or demonstration of how regis can hypnotize people, even though that was probably his most frequently used vampire power in the books asides from turning invisible/incorporeal. it showed that even though he was very powerful, he opted to use his passive powers and nonviolent routes of dealing with people.
i think it also makes the vampires way overpowered to be able to regenerate each other with each other’s blood ... and it takes away from the finality of stygga... also them just flying and turning into bats whenever they want, as if regis didn’t say that he can only turn into a bat during a full moon. they made them overpowered and still made it super easy for geralt to kill them. alright
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A/N: I wanted to post a Supernatural fic I’ve been working on, let me know what you think! More notes at the end.
~Reader is a demon who has been hunting with Team Free Will for almost four years.~
You and Sam Winchester were sitting in a cheap, run-down motel that the boys had rented for a hunt you were on.
You were laying on the bed with a lore book from the Men of Letters while Sam was sitting at the little table by the window on his laptop. You guessed he was looking at news articles.
Four different hunters in the area had been killed, ripped to shreds. The boys suspected it was a black dog, but you knew it was a hell hound. You could see the tracks and markings that the brothers couldn’t, since you were a demon, and the boys didn’t know.
You told the brothers that you thought it was a hound, but they wouldn’t even look into it, claiming they were more experienced than you. You couldn’t give them any solid evidence without making them suspicious, so you chose to go along with their stories and try your best to keep them safe.
You were reading a book on supernatural creatures, but the lore on black dogs is vague at best. You knew what they were, but you couldn’t go spewing out lore that wasn’t in any record. As you finish the meager section in the book on black dogs, the door to the room flung open.
Dean walked in, wearing his FBI suit but you could tell he had ripped the tie off and unbuttoned the top of his shirt as soon as he had gotten into his car.
He walks to the minifridge and grabs a beer before he starts talking, “I went and looked at the body, or what was left of the sorry-ass, it looks like he was mauled by a goddamn bear.”
You rolled your eyes, obviously he was ripped up. A hellhound will do that to you.
Dean continues talking as he falls on the bed beside you, making the cheap mattress sink in and jostling you around. You turned and glared at him. He winks at you before continuing.
“The cops said everyone should be out of there by 8, so I say we go get a look around. Take the EMF meter for good measure.”
Ugh you hated the EMF meter. You had a tendency to set it off but since a lot of things set it off you can usually blame it on something else.
You decided now was the time to talk, “Why are we taking the EMF reader? No where in the lore does it say black dogs will set it off.” You had a suspicion he believed you when you said it was a hellhound but his ego wouldn’t let him admit it.
He doesn’t even look at you when he says, “That’s because there is no lore Y/n, might as well cover our bases.” Yeah, he thinks it’s a hellhound, stupid men.
You smirk before closing your book, “Okay, well I’m gonna take a shower and pack up before we go.” You say as you walk away.
Before you can shut the bathroom door, you hear Dean from behind you, “Ya need any help in there sweetheart?”
You turn and flip him off, before firmly closing the door.
~
In the shower you couldn’t stop thinking. You had met the boys years ago, you had been hunting on your own for ages, hating what you had become and doing your best to make things right. You were working a ruguru case that the boys had also caught wind of. One case was all it took for you to fall head over heels for Dean.
Sam knew. Of course Sam knew, and no matter how much he told you Dean felt the same, you wouldn’t act on it. You were a demon, it would never work.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the shower before Sam knocked and said it was time to go. You quickly dried off and got dressed, putting on the anti-possession necklace that Dean gave you.
The ride there was fast, given you were in such a small town. The house was a three story farmhouse on the edge of town, totally unsuspecting. The only thing strange about it was the caution tape surrounding it.
You and the boys grabbed your stuff. You being sure to put on your leather gloves before touching anything, especially your iron knife.
Dean said for everyone to split up, and you offered to take the top floor, with Sam in the basement and Dean on the ground floor. You could smell sulfur as you walked up the stairs, just barely a hint of it, something that the boys probably couldn’t smell at all.
You were careful of where you walked, knowing this was a hunter’s house there was bound to be devils traps hidden everywhere.
The last room upstairs had a locked door, and you decided to just break the handle instead of picking the lock. You walked into a huge room with giant bookcases on all of the walls, with a large desk below a large window. There was a big, round rug covering most of the floor, and so you grabbed the edge of it and pulled.
Of course, under the rug was a very large devils trap. You carefully walked around the perimeter of it to get to the desk. While you were looking around the random papers and books to see if there was anything of use, you heard a loud crash and a pained yell from what sounded like Sam. You jumped around, almost stepping in the devil's trap before you heard Dean yell.
“Sammy!”
You didn’t even think, you ran down the stairs as fast as you could. When you got to the bottom of the basement stairs you could see Sam trapped under what seemed like a large case of some sorts. Dean is trying to lift the case, but it’s obviously too heavy. You can see Sam turning blue, obviously not able to breath with all the weight on his chest.
Dean turns around and locks eyes with you, you can see his chest heave with a sigh when he realizes it’s just you and not a monster… If only he knew.
“Y/n! I can’t get this off him! He can’t breath!”
You run over and help Dean pull the case off Sam, trying not to make your supernatural strength apparent. Once the case is off of him, Dean helps him walk to the couch nearby. You start to follow when you realize your mistake.
You were stuck. You could almost make it to the couch but not quite. When you looked up, you saw a devil’s trap, painted just a few shades darker than the ceiling color.
Dean looks at you, “Y/n, come help me get him up the stairs. He may have a cracked rib and there's obviously nothing here for us to stay for.”
Fuck.
You felt like puking. What were you going to do? If the boys would leave you could get yourself out. You’d done it before when you were just a little too careless… But the boys would notice if you took out your gun and shot the line keeping you trapped.
You looked from Dean to Sam, knowing Dean couldn’t get his tall brother up the stairs on his own, but saying nonetheless, “You take him to the car, I’ll look around once last time and then come out.”
Dean looks at you confused. “Y/n, I can’t get him out on my own. Come on, let’s go.”
You quickly glance up, trying to think of a way out of this when Sam coughs out.
“Dean… Look up.”
~
~
~
“What the hell?” Dean whispers, probably not even realizing he said it.
Your breathing starts to pick up, “Dean, I can explain.”
He pulls out his gun, aiming it right between the eyes. The act alone feels like he has already shot you.
“Who the hell are you? How the fuck did you get in “Y/n?!”
Shit… He thinks you’re possesed.
You lock eyes with him, with the man you’ve been in love with for almost four years, with the man aiming a gun at you.
“Dean, it’s me. I am Y/n… I’m no-” He cuts you off.
“Bullshit! Get out of her!”
“Dean,” You pull your necklace out of your shirt. “It’s me.”
Dean’s eyes widen, and he falls back a step. Sam stands up behind his brother, wincing in pain.
“How? How long have you been like this?” Dean says.
You give a small, mirthless laugh before looking at your feet, “For as long as I can remember.”
“Show me.”
Your eyes snap up, widening and locking with Dean’s.
“What?”
Dean’s face looks cold, he’s never looked at you like this before. You can find no warmth in his green eyes.
“Your eyes. I need to see.”
Your eyes start to fill with tears, knowing he will hate you even more than he already does when he sees your eyes.
“Dean,” You whimper. “Please don’t make me.”
He looks you dead in the eyes, no emotion on his face and says,
“Christo”
You felt a jolt through your entire body, like electricity starting from your toes to your head. You closed your eyes quickly, clenching them shut from the pain, but also to hide the color change you had no control of.
“Open them Y/n.” Sam says, voice scratchy and rough.
You whimpered, before whispering “Please, no.”
“OPEN THEM!” Dean screams, making you jump and flinch back, hitting the back of the devil’s trap.
You slowly opened your eyes… Your completely white eyes.
Both of the boys stepped back, or fell back, depending on how you look at it.
Sam starts talking, not able to take his eyes off of you, “No no no. That is impossible. There is only two white-eyed demons and they’re both dead!”
You flicked your eyes back you normal, “It’s a really, really long story Sammy.”
Dean finally speaks up, looking pale, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
As he finishes talking, you hear a sound outside… Something… Something walking on four legs. Your head snaps to the stairs, and then back to the brothers.
“No we don’t, you need to get me out of here. There is a hellhound coming and I doubt it is alone.” You say, wanting to keep them safe.
Dean scoffs, “Seriously, Y/n we can’t hear anything. We aren’t that stupi-”
He’s cut off by the front door splintering apart.
You look at Dean with a smirk, “Wanna try that again?” You say before grabbing your gun and shooting the edge of the devils trap.
Both of the boys have their guns pointed at you now, and it takes everything in you to hide how much that hurts, but you walk around and stand in front of them. You need to protect them, even if they kill you after.
You hear two hounds come down the stairs, and put your hands out to stop them.
“Amicus, Malum? Prohibere! Revertetur in terram suam!”(Amicus, Malum? Stop! Go home!) You yell at the dogs that used to be yours in Latin.
The hounds look at you, seemingly confused as to how you are here, before remembering what they came for. They look behind you and start growling again.
You step closer to the dogs, blocking Sam and Dean from their fangs. “Quod si vos non revertetur in terram suam: opprimere, me tibi. Neque me.” (If you do not return home, I will force you. Do not make me.)
The dogs stop growling at your words, sitting on their haunches, looking much like kicked puppies. You didn’t realize how much you missed them.
You squat down in front of your old companions, “Ego vos desiderabat: et. Ut non cito in domum suam. Vos postulo ut relinquam.” (I missed you both. I may be home soon anyway. You need to leave.)
They walk up and lick your cheeks, before disappearing in a plume of sulfuric smoke that you know Sam and Dean can see.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the boys, the hunters that have become your family. You didn’t want to watch as they killed you.
You hear Dean step closer, knowing his footsteps by heart, “You ever kill anyone?”
You shake your head “Not in a really long time, I don’t like who I am. It’s why I hunt.”
“How can we trust you? Everything we know about you is a lie. You’re a freaking white-eyed demon for Christ sakes!” Dean says, still defensive.
You flinch at the name, this time letting out a small whimper of pain. You think you can hear Dean gasp.
“I’ve never lied to you, Only about not being human, you just assumed I was one so I never corrected you.” You said, trying to stay calm as you heard Dean advance.
“We trusted you, Sam and I, we both did.” You can hear a sliver of emotion in his steely voice. “Why are you not looking at us!?”
You flinch at his raised voice, and slowly turn around and stand. Your misty eyes locking with Dean’s piercing green ones.
“Do you know how scary this has been for me?” You look back and forth between the boys, “For months I thought you would come in my room at night and end me. But I stayed. I stayed for almost for years even though I was absolutely terrified.” You heaved a breath, before whispering mostly to yourself. “The whole reason I was caught was trying to save Sam.”
“Why?” Sam says, his anger calming at your last statement. “Why would you stay if you were so scared?” Him and Dean both knew what you were capable of. You were the strongest of all demons, but Sam knew you wouldn’t hurt them, wouldn’t hurt anyone innocent. Dean on the other hand, you were expecting Dean’s cold eyes to be the last thing you ever saw.
“I liked him,” You nod to the angry hunter, keeping your hands at your side. “I fell for him after that first hunt. I liked having a home, a family, someone to trust.”
Dean looks you dead in the eyes, his grip tightening around the angel blade you didn’t notice was in his hand. The motion feeling like he had already stabbed you with it.
“You are a liar and a monster.” He says through gritted teeth.
“I know,” You said, shutting your tear-filled eyes, expecting a knife through your heart at any second. Instead, you felt a calloused thumb under your eye. Your eyelids flew open in confusion as you took in Dean’s face. It was still hard, but you could see hurt there too.
“You thought I would hurt you?” He says, sounding emotional. “Yeah, I’m freaking pissed at you, but I would never hurt you. We are going to have a long talk about this when we get home though.”
You looked to the ground, not comprehending what he had just said, “I- I get to come home?” You said in a small, childlike voice.
“Who knows, maybe having the most powerful demon alive on our side will be helpful.” said Dean.
“It is,” you said, thinking of all the times you’d stopped something bad from happening that they would have never seen.
“Well then, you’ll have to give us a show of what you can do sometime,” said Dean. “If you’re comfortable with that.”
Sam speaks up before you can say anything, “And we need an explanation of how you are what you are.” Giving you a small smile
“For you guys, anything.”
You were going home.
A/N: So I had a whole plan on how Y/n is a white eyed demon, and I had a plan to have Cas show up and a bunch of other cools things that just didn’t make it into this story BUT if you guys are interested maybe I could make a second part. If not I will leave it as a one shot!
#dean#dean winchester#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#spn#supernatural#spn imagine#supernatural imag#dean imagine#dean winchester imagine#dean supernatural#dean spn#dean winchester supernatural#dean winchester spn#dean supernatural imagine#dean spn imagine#dean winchester supernatural imagine#dean x#dean winchester spn imagine#dean winchester x
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here, have a thing that nobody asked for but I wrote anyway.
shobbs rom-com hollywood au, part 2.
(also, for reference - didn’t want to have to deal with the “TWO MALE LOVE INTERESTS?? OH THE HETEROSEXUAL HORRORRRRRR” in this fic, so let’s say the majority of the world population here is bisexual and it wouldn’t be groundbreaking to have the roles filled that way, ok? ok. yay world-building.
also also, I’ve de-aged Deckard a bit [which is kind of hilarious, because the F&F franchise has already de-aged him from Jason Statham’s age to 46] in order to make he and Hattie’s age gap not so large, so say he’s about *handwave* 40 in this one or something.)
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It’s a strange feeling, being back on set after so long away.
The hustle of crew members to and fro is a familiar rhythm, though, and Deckard watches it from the solitude of his spot against a far wall. An occasional roving stagehand gives him the side-eye, but overall he’s left alone, and for the most part ignored. That suits Shaw just fine - he’d always been a bit of a loner in the studios, even on the bigger budget films he’d been a part of, and he has no interest in changing that now.
There was some rather specific company he’d like to avoid here, anyways.
Deckard allows himself one more sweep of his gaze over the crowd - and, yes, still no hulking figures in sight, thank Christ - before glancing back down at the script in his hands.
It had obviously been through some edits since the copy that’d been sent with his contract. Shaw didn’t mind; it was a solid bit of writing then, and perhaps even more so now. The wit behind the lines was coy and humorous in a way that he knew the audience would appreciate, and there were plenty of spots where a little improvisation could work well.
The only issue he had was who he’d have to say these lines to.
“Reading your script?”
Shaw barely keeps himself from startling as Hattie is suddenly at his side, hooking her arm into the crook of his elbow. She smiles up at him; it’s got a wavering, nervous twitch to it, and Deckard is instantly suspicious.
“Perfect. Wonderful. Are you dehydrated? You look dehydrated. We should get you some water immediately,” she babbles, and suddenly he’s being pulled away from his spot and firmly guided in the direction of catering.
Deckard narrows his eyes.
“Hattie…”
“Hydration is important, Decks,” she says primly, refusing to look him in the eye while continuing to march them forward. Deckard looks to the ceiling in a silent prayer for patience.
“Alright, what are you on about?”
She puts a hand to her chest, as though offended.
“Can’t imagine what you mean - just trying to keep my brother from dehydration -” Hattie demures, eyes wide, innocent as the day she was born. But Deckard is a big brother, and he knows for a fact that his sister was a devil from the moment of conception, so that bullshit doesn’t fly with him.
“Hats,” he snaps, and stops in his tracks, forcing her to halt with him. "Touched as I am by your concern for the state of my piss - cut the shit. What's going on?"
Hattie wrinkles her nose. “That’s disgusting,” she huffs, unlinking herself from him and crossing her arms. And then, suddenly, the uncomfortable fidgeting starts, and Deckard’s eyes narrow even further.
His sister being nervous was never a good sign; twelve times out of ten, it meant some sort of shit for him specifically.
"You remember how Roman Pearce was supposed to be taking the third starring role?" she blurts abruptly, chewing on her lip. Deckard’s frown deepens into a sneer.
"I'm assuming that means the idiot backed out," he replies flatly. Pearce had never really liked him much after the Toretto incident; Deckard was honestly surprised when he'd heard that the man had even signed onto this project to begin with. The news of his bowing out wasn’t that shocking, all things considered.
It still didn’t explain why his sister was acting like a fucking spooked cat, though.
"Yes, well - oh shit-" Hattie hisses, eyes widening at something behind him. But before he can turn to look -
“Deckard Shaw!” a voice booms out from over his shoulder.
Deckard instantly stiffens.
A hand - large, heavy, familiar - finds itself on his shoulder. Shaw is somewhat proud of the monumental restraint it takes not to rip it the fuck off.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the deep voice chuckles from beside him. “Been lookin’ all over the studio for you.”
Shaw swallows down the nasty reply that rises automatically to the tip of his tongue, and grimly locks eyes with his ex as the man circles round in front of him.
“Brixton,” he acknowledges numbly. The other man’s hand is still a firm and steady pressure against Deckard’s shoulder, and he hates it.
“Decks,” Brixton murmurs, eyes flicking over Deckard’s face. His tongue appears briefly to wet his bottom lip. “Been a long time, hasn’t it? Four years now, that right?”
Five, Shaw thinks, but refuses to say it, because he wasn’t fucking counting, goddamnit. He offers a tight smile in reply instead. Brixton’s knowing grin widens at the sight of it.
Deckard wonders, briefly, how much trouble he’d be in if he ended up punching another big-name star in the mouth.
He’s sure Hattie would cover for him, if nothing else.
As though catching on to Deckard’s thoughts, Brixton’s gaze drifts over to his sister, and his smile takes on an edge of bitterness. The man offers her a nod.
"Hattie," he murmurs in greeting.
"Deckard's ex,” his sister drawls in return. Brixton’s smile falters momentarily into a sneer before he laughs.
"Ah, no hard feelings on all'a that, right luv?” Lore’s hand squeezes Deckard’s shoulder, and Deckard again ponders the merits of inflicting severe bodily harm. “We're all adults here."
"Hm," Hattie humms, as though unconvinced, gaze flicking up and down the other man. Brixton's lips tighten.
“What are you doing here, Brixton?” Deckard snaps, interrupting the two’s pissing contest. He grows wary as the other man’s gaze jumps back to him and Brixton’s smile turns mean.
“What, you ‘aven’t heard?” he asks, amused.
And, Oh. Oh no, Deckard thinks. Dread prickles sharply at the nape of his neck.
Suddenly he understands what his sister had been trying to warn him about.
“They hired you as the third lead,” he answers dully, and as Brixton’s smirk confirms it, a feeling of numbness crawls over Deckard.
What the fuck, he thinks bitterly. What the ever-shitting FUCK is my fucking life.
He clenches his jaw and smiles tightly at Hattie, murder in his eyes. She makes a face back that clearly states ‘how the fuck was I supposed to know?’
“Got it in one,” Brixton chuckles, patting Shaw’s shoulder with the hand that still won’t let the fuck go. His eyes meet Deckard’s, and suddenly Brixton’s gaze is intent, burning, and the smile drops from his mouth as he stares. Deckard feels caught in it; he tenses.
“Looks like it’ll be just like old times, won’t it Decks?” he murmurs lowly, gaze flitting back and forth between Deckard’s eyes. “You and me? We should talk sometime.”
Shaw stays silent; he can feel Hattie’s frown of disgust, but Brixton’s always been overwhelming when he gets like this, and Deckard has never really been able to find a way to overcome that.
So he nods, stiffly, and Brixton smiles, giving another strong squeeze to Deckard’s shoulder before finally withdrawing his hand. The man takes a step back before clapping his hands together.
“Good catchin’ up with ya, Decks. Hattie,” his lip curls as he glances at her briefly. Hattie smiles sarcastically back. “Got a few things to take care of before the meetin’, but we’ll go for drinks later, yeah?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer before walking away with a swagger in his step.
The tense atmosphere doesn’t quite leave with him. It’s quiet between the two siblings for a few moments after Brixton’s gone; Deckard takes the pause to unclench the fists that he’d unknowingly made at his sides.
Finally, he raises his eyes to Hattie, and the anger in them is obvious. She flinches.
“Decks, I - I’m so sorry -”
“Just give me ten minutes,” he snaps, dragging a hand down his face. He can’t look at her right now without the raging urge to shout welling up in him. So instead he turns away, and starts moving in the opposite direction Brixton had swaggered off to.
“... we have a meeting in twenty -”
“Ten FUCKING minutes, Hattie!” Deckard snarls, stalking off without another glance behind him.
(Part 3 here)
#deckard shaw#hattie shaw#brixton lore#hobbs and shaw#hobbs & shaw#shobbs romcom au#here have more awfulness#not sure how i feel about this part but whatever#what happens next??? do you know??? because i sure don't!#flying by the seat of my virgin author pants#my drabbles
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Henlo!! I love your blog so much 😍 it gives me life and makes me happy when I have a bad day. I was wondering if you had any headcanons about Malec’s first time or something where Magnus is a nervous wreck cause he has to tell Alec that he’s trans? Thank you and sorry for the bother 😭♥️
y’all it is a CRIME how long this has been in my inbox, im really sorry and ur not bothering me at ALL i just love this ask and wanted to do it JUSTICE 👏
also im!!! so flattered!!! aaaaaAAAA im glad my blog can cheer u up :)
okokok so trans magnus + malec’s first time + magnus being nervous about coming out lghkjgfh
ok i have no fucking idea why but i’m making this twi malec. i’m just. in the mood for twi malec i guess. fuck it amiright
magnus is just. he has a lot of secrets. there’s a reason he hasn’t gotten close to anyone in a long time, there’s a reason he only talks to two or three people who actually know him, there’s a reason he hasn’t been how he used to be--out and about, flashy and showing off and wearing armor made of glittering beauty and colorful silks and bold makeup, instead of comfortable cardigans and twitching hands and quiet.
speaking of which: def headcanon twi magnus wasn’t always the way he is in that episode. he was a lot like canon magnus once upon a time, charismatic (well, he’s still charismatic, but like, in that bold flashy way, you know?) and open (closed off, but with the illusion of having all his cards on the table) and bold
anyway. there’s a reason. lots of reasons. mostly all the secrets he hides.
the fact that he has magic, that he’s immortal, a dusty relic of a time long gone, of an age past, clinging on past his due date. he feels like he doesn’t belong in the modern world, like he should have died with the shadow world, like he should have been sealed out with all the other demons.
the fact that he is a prince king of hell, son and slayer of the greater demon asmodeous himself. even tho he’s sealed it all away, he has a huge amount of power, both from just. originally being the son of such a powerful demon, a fallen angel, and also from managing to kill one.
i don’t think it fits with canon twi lore but i don’t care, i’m saying twi magnus was involved in the sealing of the realm, and he managed to kill asmodeous and basically absorb his power, so a) he actually did this huge incredible feat that changed the whole world, whether on purpose or not i’m not sure yet (it has something to do with asmodeous, but i’m not seeing the whole picture yet) and b) he’s actually. more powerful than canon magnus. it’s partially why he sealed away his magic for so long, he was afraid of what that power could do.
honestly i dont have this super well thought out but i like the potential
but anyway! barely related to this! let’s get back on topic!
and. the fact that he’s trans. a decidedly more mundane secret, but still one he keeps close to his chest. he’s lived through a lot of eras with bad very transphobic times? like he’s lived through places/times with very accepting atmopshere, but he’s also lived in like, victorian england, you know? and canon magnus had a chance to be more out of his shell and open in the modern world but this magnus has completely closed himself off. he mostly talks to people other than his close friends to give them a tarot reading. he’s not like, totally cut off, i can’t imagine him like. not helping people. you know. idek. but the point is he’s more isolated. canon magnus was closed off in a lot of ways, but still surrounded by people. he had a job to do, people to protect, and parties to attend. not to mention going to pandemonium and stuff. twi magnus isn’t really doing that. man i really went on a tangent here but the point is i feel like that would contribute to how he feels about being trans. feeling isolated, having less friends to be open with and to help him you know? in my experience it’s a lot harder to feel like. valid? without that sense of community. even with a few close friends, it’s hard. if you’re “passing”, which magnus is, it feels like a secret.
the point is! i am getting so off track! magnus has got layers and layers and layers protecting him, both literal and metaphorical (he doesn’t wear the more flashy and revealing clothing canon magnus occasionally favors, preferring thick and comfortable sweaters and cardigans and stuff like that. bonus headcanon: whatever happened that ended in asmodeous dead and the walls of the world sealed, it left magnus with more scars. not to mention top surgery scars he may have, or even just hiding a binder, or using thick layers to disguise small tiddies since binders are great but you can’t bind all the time or every day for centuries and still be like, healthy. anYWAY)
and when he starts dating alec despite that little cautious voice in his head insisting he needs to not get attached, alec begins to just. effortlessly peel those layers away
he’s so blunt and honest, unlike people who have lied to and manipulated magnus in the past (CAMILLE, anyone? i feel like she’d still be a thing in the twiverse. also asmodeous, albeit in a different way) and he’s gentle and loud and bold and he’s funny and sweet and he just. fucking cares about magnus.
when he finds about magnus’s magic he’s like “oh my god that’s so cool” he just fucking accepts him so easily!!!
and even when magnus ends up tearfully confessing he may or may not be a literal king of hell (or, one of the hell dimensions) alec’s like “damn, i’m dating royalty?” and maybe makes a joke about not everyone getting to make a king scream with pleasure and magnus is just so relieved???
but that’s later
anyway
they haven’t had sex yet and magnus is just like. he feels like inevitably this relationship is gonna fall apart. he has too many secrets, too many hidden parts of himself that if he ever shed light on, alec wouldn’t see him the same way
and as much as he wants alec to fuck him, as much as he wants to be in bed with alec and cuddle with him and have sex with him and show him everything, he feels like he can’t, it would be the beginning of the end
he keeps pulling back just as alec begins to initiate, and alec never pushes but wonders if he’s doing something wrong, or if maybe magnus is asexual, or just doesn’t want to have sex for other reasons, and eventually he broaches the topic with magnus and magnus is so surprised alec noticed something is wrong (he expected alec might confront him over not “putting out” but alec doesn’t seem to care about the sex--he makes sure to emphasize while he is attracted to magnus and would lvoe to have sex with him if that’s what magnus wants, it’s by no means a requirement--but more about. magnus. and communicating with him.) that he just blurts out i’m trans.
and alec kinda blinks at him. his beautiful, wonderful, nervous and scared boyfriend. and he ends up blurting out oh thank god. because he would be more than okay with magnus not wanting to have sex--he’s super gorgeous and absolutely smoking hot, but alec doesn’t ever like, want to have sex with him unless magnus wants to. obviously. but he was honestly worried it wasn’t magnus but him, that he’d done something wrong or wasn’t attractive or something, and honestly worrying about something being wrong with him was not a feeling he was used to. then he realizes how bad that just sounded, and he’s like, aaaaaaaAAAA WAIT and ends up panickedly rambling like i mean sorry i just was kind of worried i was doing something wrong but like, i love you so much and you being trans changes nothing about that, and if you never want to have sex that’s totally okay and i love you, but if you’re worried about me still being attracted to you that’s not a problem, but-- and magnus is like y-you’re not?? but you’re gay! and i’m-- and you know that feeling of like. internalized [insert form of bigotry towards yourself, in this case transphobia]. where you think something bad about yourself. and if you think about it you’re like “no that’s transphobic i would never think that about anyone else” and your brain is just like “yeah it’s true about you tho” that’s this. magnus is like. i’m not a real man, how could you be attracted to me? and alec (not to be all Cis Savior, but look, magnus deserves a loving supportive boyfriend who comforts him and shit, okay! i am PROJECTING) is like yeah i’m gay and you’re a gorgeous, beautiful, stunning man?
and they end up talking it out and get it sorted that yes, magnus does want to have sex, but it would be okay if one of them didn’t want to, magnus being trans does not make alec unattracted to him, it’s okay, they’re okay, because malec are Kings of Communication,
ANYWAY
ACTUAL FIRST TIME
probably not the same day, that day they cuddle and talk
but like later
>:)
alec is just so gentle and reverent y’all. like. them big hands on magnus’s body, all warm and gentle and magnus is like oh fuck this is nice
they do have to kind of communicate boundaries--alec’s asks if there’s anywhere magnus doesn’t want to be touched because dysphoria (or any other reason) and vice versa, magnus trying to be like “you know if you only want to fuck my ass or have me wear a strap-on or anything like that it’s fine, i understand you’re not necessarily attracted to those parts of me” and alec’s like “we’ve established that you would enjoy me eating you out and i WANT TO EAT YOU OUT”
their first time probably is pretty simple, “vanilla”, idk why but im thinking they just exchange oral sex tbh like magnus blows him and then alec eats him out
also magnus cums pretty fast bc he hasn’t been touched like this in a long time and he’s very embarrassed about it but alec is like “damn that’s hot can i try to make you cum a few more times”
ok but imagine their first time it’s just alec holding him down and eating him out until he sobs and squirts? yes
anyway tho they have like, lots of “other” first times too like. first time alec fucks his pussy. first time alec fucks his ass. etc.
first time alec slides that Thick Dick balls deep into magnus’s cunt he’s for sure immediately on the edge of orgasming he’s so full and it feels so good--
and alec’s like holy SHIT bc he’s warm and wet and tight and he clenches every time alec praises him or dirty talks him and it feels amazing
first time alec fucks his ass is also very fun for both of them ;)
it’s just a good time all around folks communication and magnus getting pounded the way he deserves :’)
not to mention when they first start getting into kinks
alec, carefully broaching the topic of bondage: how would you feel... about handcuffs?
magnus, barely looking up: mm, padded or not? and what kind of padding? the normal kind hurt my wrists after too long and not really in a nice way, so i like padded. furry can get a little itchy sometimes but they look real nice. also, are we talking above my head to the bedpost, and if so, am i on my stomach or back? because stomach is a little uncomfortable. or like, behind my back? especially bent over, mm. good view for you ;)
then he like looks up and realized he’s said all of this very casually and alec’s looking at him with 1. shock and 2. lust
like. “i wasn’t expecting this, but i really should have, and now i want to bend you over and tie you up and fuck you hard”
and he blushes just a lil bit like o shit i just said all that and alec’s like “padded it is. behind your back or above your head... hm... both have potential, but maybe the latter? i love you on your back under me, i can see so much of your beautiful body and all of your gorgeous face :)”
and like TOYS
aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA ANYWAY
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So Fila’s actual past isn’t very detailed, because she’s not a main OC, and I haven’t spent a ton of time actually thinking about her as a character lol. 98% of my Creativity goes to my original content characters, cuz someday when I finish actually crafting my worlds, I’m gonna write a book. I’m aiming for the lofty goals of making a full, fleshed out, intricate— just fuckin’... a whole ass Multiverse system comparable to the Lore content of Tolkien’s works, or The Elder Scrolls— gah fuck y’know what, I’m changing this post from being about my Fantasy Life OC to being about my creation baby, the effort of about 6 years (I am 20 years old, and although I didn’t know it at the time I started, I was 14 when I made the shitty Fire Emblem Manakete rip-off race that I’m gonna actually now talk about, because holy fuck this ain’t gonna fit in a parenthesis “btw have some info” bubble)
A’ight so I have a hard time keeping track of time, especially in a large scale across years. Apparently it’s related to being severely depressed without medication (communication error on my part, my parents are very lovely and helped me ASAP when I spilled the beans) while also having moderate to severe ADD. So, ya know, keep in mind that I was yet another terribly depressed 8th grader when I talk about my creation’s early days. I wouldn’t experience that time of my life for any sort of payment ever. It was goddamn miserable, because when I was midway through the age of 14, not only did the aforementioned depression spring up, but I also realized I was bisexual (And I live in the infamous state of Alabama, for reference. Don’t fear for me though, I was too unnoticeable to be bullied if anyone did know, and my wonderful mother, whom I love and cherish with all of my heart, is one of the few Christians that actually... like... do what their own God tells em to. That is, Jesus. I’m an atheist and have a general discomfort about the idea of super powerful entities actually existing irl, but I do agree with the stuff I’ve heard and remember from a decade ago in Church about Jesus. Good guy. But yeah my mom not only accepted me and reassured me when I came out, but she’s gone even further and is of the opinion/fact that lgbt folks are, really, good and normal and that God created them, so she really genuinely just... loves and accepts me. There’s no “I love you despite of this” in the equation and I am so grateful. But again. I digress)
Pause after that sidetrack, to recap, all of my medical issues began to emerge about 6 months before I turned 15. Including what I hate most, the emergence of my Fibromyalgia and Sjogren’s Syndrome, and for an added kick to the flesh, an undifferentiated connective tissue disorder. Meaning, as what I understand it to be, a nameless chimaera of many symptoms in a way that the disorder either is it’s own thing, or just can’t easily be recognized as any one disorder. And I had anxiety. If I recall correctly on *that*, forgive me cuz it’s been a while since it’s been diagnosed/brought up in a significant way, I have or had either general anxiety *and* social anxiety, or just lightweight versions of both, or something, but at the time I was horribly shy and I couldn’t even talk to the teacher after class about schoolwork, even though I tried rationalizing it to hell and back that I shouldn’t be scared— as you’ll guess, shit didn’t work out til I got medicine for it, because no amount of logic and rational thought will change the fact that I was struggling because of a literal disorder, an error of the brain, and as with that walking with two shattered femurs ain’t gonna work, trying to talk when the talk machine broke... ain’t going to goddamn work.
God. I am rambling a lot. But anyway, shit fucking sucked as a teen for me, because I got that wombo combo, prepare for trouble, make it double, precision strike at my existence as a person during fucking already difficult puberty— I am rambling. It’s 4:55am as of this sentence lmao. I had a nasty cocktail of both mental illness and physical disorders pop up once puberty hit me, so I, through many events starting from loving to draw as a toddler, to play pretend stories of heartbreak, betrayal, and death as best an 8 year old could understand via playing with Polly Pockets, and all the creative power I inherited from my Dad, plus the motivation borne through a need to escape, I started making my own characters.
So, to return to the present state of my creations, which will now be referred to as Bounding Beyond the Stars, or BBtS, I’m gonna get some things out of the way. Just to clarify, yeah? I have created my worlds in a way that is specifically meant to stand apart from the irl universe as we know it. I’m certainly not a knowledgeable researcher with any level of comprehension on Spacial law and quantum physics and shit like that. So hey, if something ever seems... like, off, or wrong? Unless it’s pretty obviously wrong in the “hey you just googled how a thing works, and misunderstood it, and made a detail based on a failure to understand stuff and that’s dumb in a catastrophic way that even a high school level viewer would notice...” kind of mistake, then hey, shoot me a message. But if some sort of universal rule seems fucky in the way that it doesn’t make sense, but isn’t a catastrophic structural error... well, Imma use that sentence to start a better one. For an example of a catastrophic error, perhaps... this: “This planet has no seasons cuz of its shape and axis! And it is also like twice as big as Earth!” That would be catastrophic alone because anyone with a grasp on planetary gravity or something, may go and think “if it’s that big, gravity’s gonna be way more intense”. And you’d be right! Which is why I usually account for those things with... *Magic*.
Before I split this post for Length reasons, and I’m sorry the majority of this was me rambling about how my general experience with life sucked from ages 14-17, I’mma state something very important about all my creations.
Magic, which will be explained in depth at a later point, is a fundamental, essential, and omnipresent force of not just any one universe in my Multiversal Trio. It is a key piece of Reality itself, as magic is the flow of many multiples of millions of unique and mysterious energies, concepts, and laws existing anywhere that Is.
To end this post, I’m going to put a quick summary and explanation why I’m rambling about any of this: The rant about my age and circumstances at the start are relevant because it’s necessary context for the tone and type of writing my creations are built upon. The foundations of BBtS are borne from a sometimes angsty, sometimes genuinely upset 14 year old who found escape in the art of Creation. There have been many, many, many heavy edits, rewrites, scrapped info and ideas, and even more info built upon it. It used to be pretty pointlessly edgy in a lot of ways, and redundant in grimdark, morphing into *grimderp* plot devices and character traits. The way it’s written today, I like to think the lore of my many high fantasy-alien societies, and all its denizens and creators and whatever else, are still written to be dark, be dangerous, even angsty... but more skillfully so, with the sort of nuance a 14 year old wouldn’t really even begin to understand. Cuz I still like high stakes stories with real consequences and character deaths when appropriate. And I enjoy characters who have tragic pasts, but now that I’m older and I’ve seen and read about and done so much more— I can write that stuff *better*. And more over, what I’m most satisfied with, is that I’m more in touch with myself as a person, and I’ve evolved many of my personal beliefs and ideals and all the things of the world I can have opinions on. But most of all, I’ve reached a point where I have consumed enough content from others to where I have figured out how to write something that should be interesting, and maybe a bit new, because I put a looot of Damn focus on identifying, and understanding, writing structure, cliches, plot holes to avoid, character traits to handle differently, and just generally making something that’ll appeal to both me, and my audience, should I get that far.
#original content#ramble#long ramble#worldbuilding#personal history#long post#fantasy#sci-fi#science fiction#it’s currently 5:24am as i think of appropriate tags lol#sleep deprived#late night/early morning thoughts
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“Wayward Hearts Season 3 Chapter 5: Red Sky at Morning
Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.
Masterlist
Word Count: 8512
Content Warning: language and violence
DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.
**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**
Maple Springs was left in the rearview mirror as the three drove into the dark highway that night. Dean’s foot seemed heavier on the gas as Baby roared down the road.
With Riley in the back seat and Sam in the front, there was a cloud that sat over them all in the silence of the ride. There was no music coming from the stereo and Dean had stayed quiet long enough.
“So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. One of you got something to tell me?”
Sam played dumb and answered almost in a question. “It's not your birthday…”
“No.”
“...happy Purim?” The younger brother laughed. “Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about--”
Cutting Sam off mid-sentence, Dean went firm. “There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened?”
His eyes went to the mirror to look at Riley and she didn’t acknowledge his glance.
“I know it wasn't me. So, unless one of you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans...”
“Dean…”
“You went after her, didn’t you? The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to.”
Riley sighed before joining the conversation with her eyes shut, “it wasn’t just him, Dean.”
Dean practically rolled his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? You both could have gotten yourself killed!”
“But we didn’t!”
“And you shot her.”
“Hell ya I did,” Sam replied. “She was a smartass!”
After taking a beat, Dean asked the one question that flooded his mind. “So, what? Does that--does that mean I'm out of my deal?”
“Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean? No. Someone else holds the contract. She wouldn’t say who.”
“Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute…”
Riley softly shook her head as Dean peered back at her again. “That’s not funny, Dean.”
“No, it's not!” he barked back. “It was a stupid fucking risk and you shouldn't have done it.”
Finally meeting his stern look, Riley stared back incredulously. “We shouldn’t have done it? Are you kidding me?”
“She’s right, Dean. This is bullshit,” Sam agreed. “You’re my brother; Riley loves you. And no matter what you do, we’re gonna try and save you. And we’re sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright?”
Silence fell over the Impala once again. Riley leaned back with her arms folded and Sam sighed heavily in exasperation. Dean’s stare continued down the road with nothing left to say to either of them.
“Sam,” Riley called to him with her abilities. “Please don’t tell him.” She saw her brother's large shoulders tense at her voice. Sam was still angry with Riley over her trying to make a deal for Dean’s soul. “Sam…?”
“I wouldn’t do that…” Sam thought. “It would kill him.”
------
Impersonating officers of the law to interview a witness, Riley and the Winchesters stood in the home of the witness to their newest case. Her finely decorated house sat right at the edge of the bay.
The witness’ name was Gertrude Case, an elegant and well-groomed woman in her early 70’s. She held a picture of her beloved, now deceased niece.
“But I don't understand. I already went over all this with the other detectives.”
“Right, yes. But, see...” Dean began their cover story. “We're with the Sheriff's Department, not the police department--different departments.”
Sam went straight to business. “So, Mrs. Case…”
“Please,” the woman cooed as she looked intently at Sam. “Ms. Case.”
“Okay. Um, Ms. Case, uh--you were the one who found your niece, correct?”
“I came home, she was in the shower. The coroner said she drowned. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?”
Riley jumped in, trying to ignore the intense sexual thoughts and emotions that dripped from Mrs. Case. She cleared her throat. “Was Sheila acting strangely in any way in the days before she died? Did she seem scared or possibly say anything out of character…?”
“Wait a minute,” Gertrude paused. “You're working with Alex, aren't you?”
“Alex?” Riley asked before nodding her head in a lie. “Oh, sure. Yeah, Alex has been a huge help.”
“Why didn't you say so? Alex has been such a comfort. But, I’m sorry, I thought the case was solved.”
Sam leaned onto his right foot to shift his weight before replying, “Uh...well, no. No, not yet.”
“I see.”
“So, anyway, we were talking about your niece.”
“Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat.”
“A boat?” Dean asked.
“Yes. One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a...ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.” Every word she said seemed to be only directed at Sam. Gertrude’s eyes sat on him with hunger.
Thrown off by her intense regard, Sam answered awkwardly, “well, um...could be.”
“Well, you let me know if there's anything else I can do for you.” Coming closer to Sam, she slowly ran a finger along Sam’s hand.
He looked beyond uncomfortable while Dean and Riley tried not to laugh.
“Anything at all.”
------
The three moseyed along the dock, the gentle sound of lapping water touching the shore. The ocean port was crowded with pristine, rather large boats owned by the obviously wealthy.
“What a crazy old broad,” Dean joked.
“Why?” Sam asked. “Because she believes in ghosts?”
Dean laughed. “Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound.”
“Bite me.”
Nibbling her lip as a laugh tried to force its way out, Riley couldn’t help the urge to tease her brother. “She might bite you first, Sam.” He glared at her and she chuckled to herself. “So, do we know an Alex? Another hunter maybe?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job.”
“And it looks like we’re dealing with some kind of ghost ship.”
“Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here, either. Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing, three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings.”
Dean glanced down at the wood at his feet before looking back up. “So, whatever's happening is just getting started. What's the lore?”
“Well,” Riley interjected. “Apparitions of shipwrecks are sighted all over the world. The Griffin, the S.S. Violet, the Flying Dutchman--and all of them? Death omens.”
“So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?”
“Looks like.”
“What's the next step?”
“Sam I.D.’s the boat.”
The younger brother scoffed through a laugh. “Oh, sure. I’m gonna do that.”
“Yup,” she smiled. “‘Cause you just love me so much.”
“Uh-huh,” Sam teased. “Sure. I mean, there’s only over a hundred and fifty three-mast clipper ships that have wrecked of the coast.”
“Wow,” Dean added. “Well, shit.”
“Mhm.”
They quickly went up the concrete steps that took them to the main street level. The air was salty with the breeze that blew through with seagulls crying close by.
As they reached the road, the three approached an empty parking space. Dean looked around confused.
“This is where we parked the car, right?”
“I thought so,” Sam answered as he watched Dean walk into the spot.
Dean’s body language changed as he grew more and more tense. “Where's my car?”
“Did you feed the meter?”
With his voice starting to rise in panic, Dean’s anxiety grew. “Yes, I fed the meter. Sam, where's my car? Somebody stole my car?!” he shouted.
Riley could feel his legitimate worry and fear that he had possibly lost Baby. She saw him double over and ran to him. “Hey, Dean, you gotta calm down.”
“I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca--” the Winchester began to hyperventilate and bent over, clutching his knees to calm himself.
At his gasping, Riley and Sam both tried to talk him down. “Take it easy, Dean. It’ll be alright.”
A deep voice with a British accent spoke out from ahead. They all stood up only to see Richard sauntering in their direction. He took off his sunglasses to look at the three hunters. “The '67 Impala? Was that yours?”
“Richard,” Riley sighed in exasperation.
“I'm sorry. I had that car towed.”
“You what?!” Dean barked at him.
“Well, it was in a tow-away zone.”
“No, it fucking wasn't, you douchebag!”
Richard leaned in with a pleased grin. “It was when I finished with it.”
“Why?” Riley asked in a frustrated, but drained tone. Her hands found her hips as she glared at him. “Just--why are you here?”
“A little yachting,” he replied flippantly.
“You're Alex,” Sam scoffed. “You're working with that old lady.”
“Gert's a dear old friend. A bit grabby, but a sweet lady nonetheless.”
“Yeah, right. What's your angle?”
“There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats.”
Dean’s face scrunched in disgust. “Yeah, I’m sure you perform all kinds of helpful services. Ugh. And you’re conning them--none of it’s real.”
“The comfort I provide them is very real.”
“How do you sleep at night?” Sam asked.
“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money.” Richard’s eyes landed on Riley with a strong sexual tension in them. Dean noticed and immediately grit his teeth. “Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from Dean, but you?”
“You fucking shot me!”
“I barely grazed you,” Lewis mocked. “Good, god, Sam. About time you toughened up, don’t you think?”
It took all of Sam’s strength not to clock Richard across his face. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared with rage.
Riley had so much disdain for Lewis that his mere presence was enough to irritate her. She was sickened by the way he eyed her like a piece of meat. “So, I’m assuming that you know what’s going on around here. The whole ‘ghost-ship’ story is real.”
“I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way.”
“It isn't,” Dean added with a scowl on his face.
“She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers. Look...just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. And I'd get to that car if I were you...before they find the arsenal in the trunk.” With a cocky smile, Richard put his sunglasses back on before winking at Riley. “See you around, Munroe.” He turned to leave and straightened his well-tailored coat as he walked off.
“Can I shoot him?” Dean seethed.
“Not in public,” Sam and Riley answered in unison.
------
The next day, Riley and the Winchesters had gone to another house of yet another mysterious drowning. The entire property had become a crime scene. Police officers had taped off the home and their radios could be heard throughout.
Ahead, Riley spotted Richard talking to the victim’s brother. She tossed her head back and groaned. “I’ll ask again...why?” she whined.
The brother of the victim was still shaken and obviously reeling from the earlier events.
Richard was interviewing him, posed as a reporter. He was using a fake American accent and really playing into his role. “I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Warren. Now, if you could just tell me one more time about the ship your brother saw.”
Riley, Sam, and Dean pulled out their badges to flash them before shoving them back away. They all looked irritated and Dean stared Lewis down. “I think this man's been through quite enough. You should go.”
Still holding his recording device, Richard told them coolly, “I just have a few more questions.”
“No, you don't,” Sam told him firmly.
Richard shot the brothers daggers with his eyes before feigning respect for Mr. Warren. “Thank you for your time.” As he walked past Riley, his hand brushed up against hers purposefully and he shot her a playful look.
“Sorry you had to deal with that,” the older Winchester told the grieving brother. “They're like roaches.” Dean raised his voice so that Richard could hear him.
He turned back to glare at the hunter and Dean shot him a harsh leer before Lewis scoffed and left.
“Did he touch you?” he asked Riley quietly.
“I’m fine, Dean,” she replied. “Don’t let him get to you.”
“Pfft. He’s not getting to me. I just--wanna kill him is all.”
Sam had already pulled Mr. Warren to the side to talk as Riley and Dean joined them. “So, it’s Peter, right? Peter Warren? We heard you say your brother saw a ship.”
“Yeah, that's right.”
“Did he tell you what it looked like?” Dean asked.
“It was, uh--like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging--angel figurehead on the bow.”
Riley looked at the man curiously. “Wow. That’s pretty specific detail for a ship you didn’t even see.”
“My brother and I were night diving. I saw the ship, too.”
The three shared a knowing look of worry before Sam turned to notice Richard. He was talking to officers and pointing to Riley and the brothers’ direction.
Sam nudged Dean and he quickly wrapped things up.
“Alright. Well, we'll be in touch. Thank you for your time.”
------
Later that afternoon, the family of three loaded their shotguns at the trunk of the Impala in the nearby woods. It didn’t take long before they were joined once again by an unwelcome voice that approached them from behind.
“I see you got your car back.”
Dean had to briefly shut his eyes to contain his frustration before replying, “you really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?”
“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure, Dean. Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat.”
As Riley snapped the gun back into place she stared Richard down. “The brother? He saw the ship.”
Dean closed the trunk as they all turned to face Lewis.
“Yeah? And?”
“...and he’s gonna die. So, now we gotta save him.”
Richard found slight humor in the comment and smirked with a soft chuckle. “Oh, Riley. How sweet. Always ready to run into the fray. Though I’ll admit, one of the many reasons I’ve always found you so interesting,” he added with a sly look.
Sam butt into the conversation with a scoff, “dude, back the hell off. And what? You think this whole thing is funny?
“He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time and you know it.”
“Hmm. Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so…” Sam said plainly as they all went to get in the car. “...we're gonna try.”
“Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun.”
Sam, Dean, and Riley looked at each other, exasperated before Dean marched over to the smug visitor. “Hey, Dick, how'd you get like this, huh? What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?”
Lewis fought not to let his face show how offended he was. “I don't know. Your daddy give you enough?”
The two men shared an obvious moment of desire to fight.
Riley could feel the tensions rising and a part of her hoped Dean would hit Richard.
“Don't you dare look down your nose at me,” Richard told him. “You're not better than I am.”
“We help people.”
With a scoff, Richard went on. “Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me--which is healthier?”
“Richard,” Sam interrupted. “Why don't you just leave? We've got work to do.”
“Yeah. You're 0 for 2. Bang-up job so far.”
As he left, the others sighed as Riley ran a hand through her hair. “I’m starting to think shooting him in public isn’t such a bad idea.”
------
When night had fallen, Riley and the boys sat in front of the Mr. Warren’s large house. Back in their day to day clothes, they had decided to stake-out the place in hopes of catching whatever was going to come after the man.
Riley had her feet up as she lounged in the back seat finishing her candy bar. As Sam went over his findings on the Warren brothers, Dean’s eyes sat on Peter in the window.
“I don’t get it. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads--no criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago.”
“How much?” Dean asked.
“$112 million.”
Riley whistled in response. “Real estate, huh? I’m in the wrong business obviously.”
“Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So, why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?”
“Maybe nothing,” Dean added.
“No. There's always something.”
Peter had spotted them through his window and came out of the house toward them. Stopping at the security gate, he shouted, “hey, you!”
“Think we’ve been made, boys.” Riley was the first to get out of the car as the Winchesters followed.
“What are you guys doing?! You watching me?”
As they neared the panicked man, Sam tried to reason with him. “Sir, calm down. Please.”
“You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like that. Not--not in that shitty car.”
Dean was taken back and chuckled. “Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty.”
Hoping she could appeal to Peter, Riley gently put her hands up as a soft surrender. “We are cops, sir. We’re just undercover. We think you might be in danger, Mr. Warren.”
“From who?!”
“We can talk about this. Let’s all just calm down.”
“Look, you guys just stay away from me!” Peter demanded as he ran to his own car to get in.
At the gate, Dean yelled, “hey, dumbass! We’re trying to help you!”
Peter’s Mercedes approached the opposite side of the entryway and the car shuddered before coughing and dying.
“That can't be good,” Dean stated.
“No. Get the salt gun,” Sam told his brother as he and Riley hopped the short fence. Together, went into a full sprint across the property.
Inside Peter’s car, a spirit dressed in the clothes of an old seaman sat in his backseat. He wore a navy coat, his long hair soaking wet and dripping into his eyes with his right hand missing.
Mr. Warren peered back to look, but the spirit was gone. As he turned, the spirit was sitting in the passenger seat. The ghost glared at Peter and reached out to touch his cheek.
The man immediately began to convulse, choking on cold, salty water that spilled out of his mouth as he fought for air. He scrambled for the door, which locked itself and Peter finally slumped over the steering wheel.
Sam got to the car as the Winchester shouted into the driver’s window, “Peter!”
When Riley reached the passenger side, she gasped at the spirit staring her down. There was so much rage exploding from the ghost that she shuddered at the feeling.
Across the way, Dean hollered as he rushed in their direction, “guys! Get down!”
The two ducked down as Dean fired his shotgun into the window. It shattered at the salt round’s impact as the spirit disappeared.
Riley quickly stood and reached through the broken glass to unlock the car door. Sam yanked the driver-side door open and pulled Peter back against his seat; water still pouring from his mouth with his eyes wide open. The hunter checked for a pulse, but after a few seconds, his shoulder slumped and he sighed in defeat. Sam shook his head at the others and Riley groaned putting her hands in her hair.
As the thunder in the distance rumbled, Dean kicked the car door in frustration.
Against their best efforts, they were too late.
------
Lights from around them flickered through the windows of Baby as Dean drove her down the local highway. The radio was going with an announcer discussing the weather.
“With what started out as a mild breezy night, a severe weather front is headed in from the Northwest. Expect heavy lightning and thunder, with sudden rainfall--”
Dean shut off the radio with his eyes never leaving the road. “Do either of you wanna say it or should I?”
“What?” Sam asked.
“You can't save everybody”
Riley scoffed under her breath. “Right. So, does saying that make you feel better?”
“No, not really.”
“This isn’t even about us not being able to save Peter, is it?”
With a heavy sigh, Dean replied, “you gotta understa--”
Immediately cutting his brother off, Sam’s face fell flat with both sadness and defeat. “It’s just lately, I feel like I can't save anybody.”
The car fell silent with Sam, Dean, and Riley lost in their own thoughts.
Reaching out to her brother, Riley solemnly spoke through her abilities. “Me too, Sam.”
------
An abandoned and worn Victorian style home sat on the corner of a quiet street. The windows had been boarded up; the yard was a mess and wildly overgrown. It was the perfect place for the hunters to stay while they worked the case.
As Sam sat at a table reading about shipwrecks, Riley gently strummed her guitar as she tuned it. Dean was mindlessly playing a game on his phone off to the side of the room. The only time he seemed to look up was to sneak a glance at the woman in front of him with a soft smile.
When there was a knock at the door, Dean got up to check it out. A small, rusted and squeaky door opened as a peephole. Dean opened it and rolled his eyes seeing Richard staring back at him. The Winchester closed the tiny door before sharing a long look with Riley and Sam.
Reluctantly, he opened the door and Richard waltzed in wearing a high-end suit, carrying a leather portfolio.
“Dear...god,” he muttered as he looked around the house. “Are you actually squatting? ...charming.” Lewis walked further inside to join the others. “So. how'd things go last night with Peter?” When no one responded, he asked, “that well, huh?”
Dean’s jaw slightly clenched and Richard turned in his direction. “If you say 'I told you so', I swear to God I'll start fuckin’ swinging.”
“Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart.”
“That's assuming that you have a heart,” Dean snarked.
“Dean, please...I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts. I've ID'd the ship.” Richard unzipped his portfolio to pull out his findings as Dean sat next to Riley. “It's the Espírito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel--quite a colorful history. In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37.”
Sam immediately added, “which would explain the 37-year cycle.”
“Aren't you a sharp tack? There's a photo of him somewhere…” Lewis took a beat as he flipped through the paperwork. “Here...”
As the three studied at the photo, they quickly shared a knowing look. Riley pointed at one of the men in the picture before saying, “isn’t that the guy from last night?”
“You saw him?”
“That’s definitely him. I looked him right in the eyes. But...he was missing a hand.”
“His right hand?” Riley nodded at Richard’s question and he went on. “The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory.”
“A hand of glory?” Dean smirked. “I think I got one of those recently.” The older brother chuckled with a quick glance towards Riley. She met his gaze with a firm look and he cleared his throat realizing he had overstepped.
“Dean,” Sam started with exasperation. “The right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful.”
“And it qualifies as actual remains.” Riley picked up the photo to look at the man closer. “But how is he choosing his victims? It doesn’t make sense.”
Richard leaned onto the table and stared into her eyes. “I'll tell you why. Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.”
“Why are you even helping us, Richard? Why tell us all of this?”
“Because I know exactly where the hand is--the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help.”
“What kind of help?” Sam asked giving Lewis a skeptical look.
Richard said nothing, only to turn to Riley with a smirk.
------
That evening, the house was filled with lit candles as the electricity hadn’t worked for years.
Dean and Richard waited in the living room with no one else around. Richard was in a tux with Dean was in nice slacks with a white button-up shirt, and a bowtie with a matching vest.
Dean tugged at the tie at his neck. “I don’t get it. Why the fuck do I have to go undercover as a waiter? Why can’t you or Sam do it?”
“Because I need Sam to keep Gertrude busy, I’m on the list with a plus one, and you…” Richard paused and sized him up. “Well, you’ll fit right in with the help.”
Feigning a sarcastic and annoyed laugh, Dean mocked him. “Douchebag…” he muttered under his breath.
Just then, movement on the stairs caught both of their attention. Dean and Richard’s eyes shot up to the staircase to see Riley coming down. She was in a black evening gown that had straps that nearly hung off her shoulders. It had a plunging neckline and a slit up her right leg. Riley’s hair was curled in large, loose rings as it fell over her shoulders. She was even wearing a diamond necklace that Richard had loaned her to play the part.
Dean felt his jaw fall slightly agape as she reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to him. She was stunning. He could have stared at her all night with the candles flickering on her face. Dean had never seen her dressed up like that and nearly went weak in the knees.
The smile that grew on his face was so genuine, he practically beamed. “Wow…” Dean nearly whispered. “You look…”
Before he could finish, Richard jumped in with a grin. “Incredible. Riley, I’ll be the most envied man in the room tonight.”
It was obvious that Dean was uncomfortable with Lewis being with Riley that night. But, it wasn’t her he didn’t trust, it was him.
Riley half-smiled at him only to walk towards Dean. Her heels clicked on the floor and he gulped hard as she got closer. The hunter was in awe of her and it was obvious.
“You look so good…” Riley flirted as she fixed his bowtie with a smile.
“You…” Dean stammered. “Sweetheart, there aren’t words.”
A mischievous look grew on her face as she looked up at Dean. “Think you can show me then, later tonight?”
“God, yes…” he nearly growled as his hand went to her waist. Dean kissed her gently as Richard rolled his eyes. When Dean peered up after their kiss, he looked smug and pleased with himself knowing how jealous Richard was. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”
------
Outside the museum, the three got out of Richard’s elegant, two-door sports car. He straightened his jacket as he buttoned it up and a parking attendant helped Riley out of the car.
Dean was in the small backseat and struggled to push one of the chairs forward to get out. He grunted shoving it over it over as the leather squeaked.
Richard leaned in to push a lever that brought the seat up and smiled trying to hide his humor over the hunter’s embarrassment.
“You know, Dean,” Richard said as he went to Riley’s side. “I believe the staff goes in through the back.”
Riley could see the anger in Dean’s face and she spoke to him telepathically. “It’ll be okay. Remember, he’s not the one I’m going home with.” Her tone was teasing and Dean couldn’t help but smile.
“Shall we?” Lewis asked as he put out his arm for Riley to take it.
Dean felt himself boil just watching the man he hated touch her as the two walked in the front door. With a groan of frustration, he walked around to the back.
Once inside, Richard gave the doorman their invitation. Everyone was in formal black-tie attire as cultivated music played through the air through the murmurs of conversation.
With Riley’s hand on his arm, Richard placed his on top of hers. She tried to hide her desire to pull away and took a deep breath as they walked inside. Guests had congregated at the bar and throughout the museum as they socialized and admired the displays.
Sam hurried to Richard and Riley from across the room, leaving Gertrude waiting. He looked uncomfortable and jumpy in his black tux. “Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?”
“As long as it takes,” Richard grinned.
Riley could feel how frustrated Sam was and leaned into him. “There’s security everywhere, Sam. Without Gert and Richard’s invitations, this party is un-crashable.”
Holding a silver tray of hors d’oeuvres, Dean reluctantly joined them, his face flat. “This is fucking ridiculous. They got me serving crab cakes.”
Richard reached out to take one. “Don’t mind if I do.” He ate the appetizer and softly moaned. “Delicious. Thank you.” Reaching behind them to the bar, Lewis grabbed two flutes of champagne before handing one to Riley. “Excuse us…” Richard teased as he took Riley’s arm once again and walked them off.
She turned around to mouth, “I’m sorry,” before they disappeared into the crowd.
Dean was practically seething. “I seriously hate that fucking guy.”
“Yeah, join the club.” Sam groaned as Gertrude showed up next to him with their own glasses of champagne. Her eyes sat on Sam with hunger and desire as he took the drink.
Sam didn’t hesitate before downing the entire glass. He turned to Dean one more time to utter, “let’s get the hand and get the fuck outta here, alright?”
“Pfft. You read my mind.”
With a tight smile, Sam went off with Ms. Case as Dean placed his platter onto the counter. As he went to leave, Dean quickly rushed back to grab three crab cakes from the tray and scurried away while shoving one in his mouth.
------
In a less crowded room, Riley and Richard looked around. There were men in uniforms standing at every door and in front of the staircase. They both spoke in undertones to each other as they tried to blend in.
“Private security?” Richard asked her.
“No...I don’t think so. Check out how they’re standing--definitely professionals. Maybe state troopers on a night job.”
“Posted to every door, too.”
Riley casually glanced around. “Pretty sure they’re not just gonna let us upstairs.”
“Well, I have a thought.”
“I’m all ears.”
“...faint,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Faint.”
The hunter groaned frailly and fell into Richard’s arms toward the floor. Holding her, Richard knelt down next to her. “Darling? Darling, are you alright?” He looked around and called to over to a man that passed them. “Waiter! My wife, she has a terrible peanut allergy. Please tell me you weren’t serving anything with peanuts.”
“No, sir.”
A guard approached as Richard scooped Riley up into his arms. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“My wife, she’s not well. Possibly one too many glasses of champagne. Is there somewhere I can lie her down until she is back on her feet?”
The suited guard looked up the staircase. “Follow me.”
Still holding Riley close to his chest with ease, he thanked the gentleman. “Come on, darling. Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”
Riley could feel Richard’s hand squeeze at her just a bit and she had to fight not to reach up and smack him across the face.
He carried her up the stairs as they were led into a private room. Gently, he placed her down on a red leather couch.
“Thank you so much,” he told the guard at the door as he slipped him some money. As Richard shut the door behind him, Riley sat up.
“Getting a little grabby there, Richard.”
He chuckled under his breath. “As I recall, you weren’t opposed to me being ‘grabby’.”
“Yeah,” Riley scoffed as she fixed her hair. “Three years ago. Let it go.”
“As if you’re so easy to forget, Ms. Munroe.” Richard’s eyes locked onto her with desire and she could hear some of his lewd thoughts. She couldn’t let him know she could read his mind and instead just rolled her eyes as she stood. “Room 235. It’s in a locked glass case wired for alarm, I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you.” Lewis pushed the hair away from her face with his hand lingering.
“Cool. Thanks,” she added with a condescending pat to his chest as she turned to leave the room.
Gently closing the door behind her, Riley began to make her way to the room. She jumped when Dean quickly turned the corner in front of her. “Ugh. You scared me.”
“Yeah, well I’m sure you’re date is a lot scarier.”
Riley giggled to herself before grabbing Dean by the coat he had stolen and kissed him. Breaking away, she kept hold of her grasp and drug him along.
A playful look grew on Dean’s face, enjoying her show of control.
Down the hall, Riley pointed to the door marked 235. Dean checked the handle to find it unlocked and they crept inside.
In the room were several glass cases with high-tech security on each one. The hand of glory sat to the right in its case and the couple went in its direction. It took several minutes as Dean worked to bypass the security, but when he finally did, the case was easy to remove.
“Very James Bond of you, Dean,” Riley flirted.
Dean stood with a smug look and a hooked eyebrow as he took the hand before tucking it into the jacket pocket. Turning to her he bit his lip as he looked her over. “The name’s Winchester,” he said dramatically as if quoting the famous spy.
She laughed in return and kissed him. “Let’s go.”
The two hurried back to the room they had left Richard in and closed the door behind them. “Ah, Dean. So glad you could join us.” He gave the hunter a judgmental look before asking, “And the hand?”
Pulling out a shriveled, almost mummified, human hand out of his pocket, Dean showed Richard their prize.
Lewis approached with his hand open. “May I?”
“Nope,” Dean told him sternly as he pulled it away from him. He pulled a handkerchief from the jacket’s front pocket and wrapped it.
Riley glanced up at Dean. “Wanna put it in my purse? Might be easier to hide.”
He scratched his nose, using their signal for her to read his mind. “And give Dick over here another chance to grope at you so he can get it? I don’t think so.”
She softly shook her head at his ridiculous thought, but dropped the subject.
------
Back downstairs, Gertrude and Sam swayed to a song played by the quartet. She leaned into the Winchester’s chest. Clutching an empty champagne flute, Ms. Case’s other gripped Sam’s tightly. Her eyes were shut as she brushed herself up against the hunter; the liquor that began to hit her only making her bolder.
“Man, this is one long song,” Sam uttered,
Breathing him in deeply, Gertrude cooed, “I hope it never ends.” She paused to gaze up at Sam who looked deeply pained. “How's the investigation going?”
“These things take time.”
“People are talking about the Warren brothers’ deaths. Strange. Do you think it’s connected to Shelia's?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Yeah, we think so.”
“I think they had it coming.” Gertrude went back to her comfortable spot on the hunter’s warm chest. “You know--in a Biblical sort of way.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know about their father?” When Sam shook his head in response, she said, “Come here, I'll whisper it to you.” Taking the sides of his head, Gertrude seductively pulled him close to speak in his ear. Sam tried to contain his groan in discomfort. “People say that the old man didn't die of natural causes.”
Sam grimaced. “Then how?”
Caressing him, she continued to whisper and blow in his ear. “Rumor is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but, uh--people still whisper.”
“Okay, okay, okay.” He winced as he pulled himself away. “Um, uh--so did--did Sheila have any connection to them?”
“Well, none that I know of.”
“Did Sheila have any kind of tragedy in her life?”
Gertrude thought to herself. “Yes. As a matter of fact, there was a...car accident when she was a teenager. Her car flipped over. She was okay but her cousin Brian was killed. Why, is that important?”
“Uh…”
Dean, Richard, and Riley approached and Richard just grinned. “Having a nice time, Gert?” he asked.
“He's delightful!” Gertrude chuckled somewhat drunkenly. She spoke low to Lewis in almost a whisper. “He wants me!”
With a look of surprise, Dean turned to Sam who appeared completely abashed. Riley could feel the embarrassment Sam was drowning in and how badly he wanted to get out of there.
“Gert,” Richard started as he took her hand onto his arm. “I think it’s time we get you home. You might need a cold shower.”
“Great idea,” Sam practically groaned in disgust.
Looking over his shoulder, Richard playfully winked at Riley. “See you at the cemetery.”
After watching the two leave, Dean turned to his brother. “You stink like sex.”
Riley nearly chortled at the comment and tightened her lips together to avoid bursting into laughter.
------
Once outside the museum, the three walked through the parking lot. Riley, Sam, and Dean got into the Impala as they all sighed with relief that the night was over.
Sam pulled at his bowtie, nearly ripping it off with anxiety in the backseat. “You got it, right? Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing.”
“I got it...Mrs. Who?”
“Dean, would it kill you to open a book?” the young Winchester snarked. “Never mind. Just let me see it.” Pulling something out of his pocket, Dean began to unwrap something from a cloth. His face changed with a sense of panic as he unraveled it faster. “What?”
Dean held up a small ship in a bottle that Richard had replaced the hand with as his anger grew. “I'm gonna kill him.”
“I’m down,” Riley shrugged.
------
Back in more comfortable attire, the hunters sat in the candle-lit house once again. Dean examined the ship more closely by the light of a small flickering flame.
“You know what? I'm not gonna kill him. I think slow torture's the way to go.”
“Dean,” Riley said sweetly. “I keep telling you not to let him get under your skin. You gotta relax.”
“Relax! Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe the son of a bitch got another one over on us!”
Sam looked up at his brother. “Actually...he got one over on you--not us.”
Pausing with frustration, Dean shouted, “thank you, Sam. Very helpful.”
There was a rapid knock at the door before a deep voice called to them. “Hello? Could you open up?” They all went together to open the door to see Richard looking back at them. “Just let me explain.”
Sam, Dean, and Riley were pissed...and it showed.
A short while later, Richard was sitting at the table with Dean leaning down to glare at him. Sam sat backward in his chair while Riley leaned against the mantle with her arms crossed.
“I sold it,” Richard admitted. “I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.”
Furious, Dean walked behind him. He made a shooting motion with his fingers, imagining a bullet going into the guy’s head.
“So, the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was...?” Sam asked.
“I needed a cover. You were convenient.”
Riley exhaled in exasperation. “You sold it. Go buy it back.”
“It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have plans?”
Lewis ran a hand over his face taking a long pause to answer to her snarky question. “I saw the ship.”
“You what?” Dean questioned with a soft and surprised tone as he began to pace. “Wow, you know, I--I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist piece of shit, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower--”
“What are you talking about?”
“We figured out the spirit’s motive,” Sam added as he showed Richard an old photograph. “This is the captain of our ship--the one who hung our ghost boy.”
“So?”
Taking a few steps forward, Riley leaned onto the table. “They were brothers. It was all very Cain and Abel. Now, because of how he died, he’s got a very specific target--people who have killed someone in their own family.” Richard looked stunned as she went on. “Sheila? She killed her cousin in a car accident. The Warren brothers? They murdered their father for his inheritance. And now you apparently.”
“Oh, my God,” he said under his breath.
“So, who was it, Dick? Hmm?” Dean hovered behind Lewis hoping to intimidate him. “Who'd you kill? Was it mommy? Your little sis--?”
Softly, he replied, “it's none of your business.”
“No? Right. Well, have a nice life--you know, whatever’s left of it.” Dean slapped him on the back before grabbing his jacket and going for the door. “Guys, let’s go.”
“You can't just leave me here.”
“Watch us.”
Reluctantly, Richard admitted, “I need your help.”
“Our help?” the older brother scoffed. “You call us serial killers, get handsy with my girlfriend…”
“Okay, that was a bit harsh and rude, I admit it...but it doesn't warrant a death sentence.”
Sam stood with his arms crossed as he told him softly, “that's not why you’re gonna die. What'd you do, Richard?”
“You wouldn't understand. No one did.” Richard cleared his throat and slicked back his hair. “Never mind. I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself.”
As he turned to leave, Riley spoke out. “You know...you just sold the only thing that could save your life, Richard.”
“I'm aware.”
“Well…” Sam sighed. “Maybe not the only thing.”
------
Richard had gone along with the hunters to a local graveyard. Sam was setting up a ritual circle: five candles, a pentagram, and a bowl into which he poured a jar of red liquid. Another jar was on the opposite side of the circle with what appeared to be herbs in it.
Huddling into his coat from the cold, Richard shuddered slightly. “Do you really think this is going to work?”
Dean was leaning on a tombstone with his shotgun rested on his shoulder. “Almost definitely not.”
Thunder suddenly crashed and the wind whistled before rain began to pour over them. Sam and Dean zipped up their jackets and braced for the storm. Tugging the hood of her sweater out from under her leather jacket, Riley pulled it over her head.
“Well…” she practically shouted over the rain. “Hope those aren’t your good shoes, Richard!” Riley turned to the young Winchester. “Sammy! Time to read, bro!”
“Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam. Ehrley, et balam, ego vos conuro, per deum verum, per deum vivum cuivos,” Sam had to yell over the storm that drenched them. “Cuiaves eos supermontes et per eum, qui adam, et avum formovit. Et per eum...” As he went on, the wind grew fierce and the rain felt as though the skies had completely opened.
“Riley!” Dean called. “Stay close.”
Before she could get to him, Riley could see the phantom approaching Dean. “Behind you!”
Grabbing Dean, the ghost threw him through the air. He hit a headstone with a painful thud before his gun went off.
Sam looked up and continued to read in Latin as the spirit reached out to Richard and placed a hand on his face. Lewis immediately began to cough up water as the phantom watched him fall to his knees.
Riley quickly spun to see Dean across the way as he staggered up. Knowing he was okay, she threw herself next to Richard and held him to support him as he continued to heave water.
“Read faster, Sammy!” Dean bellowed as he stumbled over to Riley and Lewis.
Richard continued to cough when the rain suddenly died down. His coughing went on but seemed to have calmed down.
There was a creaking sound nearby and the ghost turned toward the source of the noise only to see his brother standing before him.
“You...hanged me!”
“I'm sorry,” the spirit pleaded to his brother.
“Your own brother!”
“I'm so sorry!”
The ghost charged with rage into his brother’s spirit. When they collided, the two dissolved into screams and a splash of water that seemed to almost explode.
Richard gasped for air, no longer coughing up water, as Riley and Dean helped him to stand.
The spirits were both gone with their unfinished business finally at rest.
------
The next day, the family packed, getting ready to leave the home they had been staying in. A sound came from outside before the door opened and Richard walked in, dressed in a dress shirt, tie, slacks, and shining shoes.
“You know, you really should lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in.”
“Anyone just did,” Sam replied as he continued to put his things into their rightful place. “Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?”
“I've come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother--very clever, Sam. So here.” Richard pulled out three packets of money and tossed one to each of them. “That’s fifteen thousand--should cover it. I don't like being in anyone’s debt.”
“So, ponying up fifteen grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?” Dean asked. Lewis smiled faintly and the hunter shook his head with a scoff. “You're so fucking damaged.”
Richard’s smile broadened. “Takes one to know one.” His eyes landed on Riley, only a little less suggestive than usual. “I’ll see you around, kid.”
“Hopefully not too soon,” she teased with a playful smile.
With a slight nod, Lewis turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Sam flipped through his money and then looked back up to his partners. “He’s got style. You gotta give him that.”
With his own cash in hand, Dean dismissed the thought. “Whatever. He’s still a douche.”
“Guys,” Riley started as the three huddled together. “Should we even take this? I mean who the hell knows where this money’s been?”
“No, but I know where it's going…” Dean said with a smile before planting a peck on Riley’s lips and going to get his things. “A-HA HA!”
------
That night, the Impala drove on, still covered in drops of rain. Riley sat in the front seat as she went over a map and Sam leaned forward to look over her shoulder.
“Seriously? Atlantic City?” Sam asked in disbelief.
“Hell yeah! Play some roulette--always bet on black.” Dean paused and his tone changed. “Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um...I want you both to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon.” Still unwilling to make eye contact, the others sighed feeling the air of the car change. “You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing for either of you. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you guys are going through with this whole deal--me going away and all that. But, you're gonna be okay--both of you.”
“You think so…” Sam said tonelessly.
“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know--you live your lives. You’re stronger than me. You both are and you know it. You'll get over it. But, I want you to know I'm sorry--I’m sorry for...putting you through all this, I am.”
Tears ached at Riley’s eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“We’re just supposed to ‘get over it’-- ‘move on’?” When Dean didn’t respond, Riley went on even though the lump in her throat that was actually causing her pain. “You really expect me to move on? That I can just be without you?”
“Sweetheart, when this is all over...I want you to move on. Build a life with someone if that’s what you want, or hunt with Sam...or both. I just want you to be happy.”
“Happy?!” she almost yelled. “You want me to have a life with someone that isn’t you? How could you even say that?”
“Because you have to, Rye! You gotta let me go.”
Sam couldn’t take it any longer and barked at his brother. “You know what, Dean? Go fuck yourself. We don’t want an apology from you! And by the way, we can take care of ourselves--we’re adults.”
“Oh, well, excuse me.”
The younger brother’s voice continued to rise as Riley rushed to wipe the tears from her face. “You have to give a damn, Dean. You have to fight! I want you to give a shit that you’re dying! Stop trying to plan our futures for us and help us fucking save you!” Dean said nothing in return to Sam, but smirked annoyingly. “So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?”
Dean stared off down the road, his mind leaving the conversation. He was quiet before changing the subject with a smile. “I think maybe I'll play craps.”
Outraged at his response, Sam leered at his brother. He shook his head and sighed in exasperation. Riley turned to Dean and tears streamed down her face without a sound as Dean’s smile faded.
As they drove on, Riley reached out telepathically for the man she loved, desperate to get in his head. She couldn’t find a single thought in the older brother and realized he had shut her out. Wondering if she could break the wall, Riley fought with all her might to get through to him.
“Dean...please…” she felt herself practically scream in her own head begging for him to feel her. When there was nothing, Riley sulked into her seat and stared out the window.
Dean wasn’t even gone yet, but Sam and Riley knew, he was already saying his goodbyes.
------
S3 Chapter 6: Fresh Blood
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Dark Days – Part 3
Summary: Dean breaks up with the reader and she struggles to live without him.
Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic)
Warnings: language, fluff, frustrated reader, implied smut, a hint of nakedness
Dark Days Masterlist
The first weeks back at the bunker are excruciatingly uncomfortable. Sam tries to make you feel welcome and Dean is almost pampering you. You feel like a sick child.
Trying to get back to your former self you train again. Also, you read a lot of lore books. But every time you try to lift something heavy or to help with a hunt Dean and Sam always make you stay behind. Even leaving Castiel at the bunker to have a look at you.
The urge to drink alcohol is gone. You feel much better but they still refuse to accept that you're back into the business.
Sighing you sit in the library trying to help Sam doing research but he insists you shall relax instead of helping him.
Moving toward your room you sob, you've got the feeling they will never trust you again.
Yes, you drank too much but you feel better. Having nothing to do makes you almost want to crawl up the walls.
To keep you busy you clean your room. After you’re finished you do the laundry, clean the showers and even rearrange the refrigerator.
Sitting on your bed you look around, you've got nothing to do. But you don't want to ask Sam if you can help him. He always refuses so you just lie down onto your bed staring at the ceiling.
“Hey want to watch a movie?” Dean asks.
“Yeah, I’m bored to hell and back.” You giggle.
“Good, come to my Dean cave.”
“Sure.”
Sitting on the couch Dean moves to the other end and you roll your eyes. Watching you he smiles.
Sighing you move closer to him when he doesn't get the hint you move even closer leaning your head against his shoulder.
Chuckling he moves his arm around your shoulder to bring you even closer to him.
Locking eyes with him you want to kiss him. But before your lips can get close enough Sam enters the room.
“Hey got a case.”
“Coming.” Dean grunts. “You can still watch the movie.” Winking at you he leaves the room with Sam.
Sighing disappointed you watch the movie alone. And two more until you fall asleep on the couch.
Feeling someone touching you, you open your eyes. Dean is picking you up to carry you to your room.
“Was the movie fun?” He asks.
“A bit. The other two were boring but I had nothing else to do so…I kept on watching.”
“You should sleep a bit and tomorrow we can watch a movie together.”
“If you don’t find something better to do.” You whisper.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
Jumping out of his arms you move into your room. Searching an old shirt to sleep in you ignore Dean.
You really don’t know why you agreed to come back.
Both Winchesters treat you like a fragile child. Dean is obviously not interested to continue your relationship and hunting – they refuse to let you hunt.
"Hey is something wrong?" Dean asks worriedly.
“I don’t have the need to drink something if that’s what you want to know. Could’ve drunk your hidden liquid treasure.”
“Sorry, it’s just you’re silent since you’re back.”
“It’s not that you two want to hear anything from me.” You snap at him.
“What?”
“Forget it. I’m tired so just leave me alone…like always.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean rasps.
“What for? Wouldn’t change anything. Just let me sleep. I’m fine…”
----
Making it up to you – that's all Dean has in his mind right now. Cooking your favorite Italian food he devastated the whole kitchen. He has sauce on his Henley and his hair is messed up.
Groaning he reads the recipe, again and again, normally he's a good cook but this time he messed up. ‘Fuck.’ He mutters.
“Can I help you?” You ask.
“No, I cook…you eat and you have to shelter your arm.”
“My arm is fine, thanks to your help.”
"Nope, I cook for you."
“But I know how to cook Italian food, Dean.”
“Nope.”
“Come on let me help, I feel so useless.”
“Wait what?”
"With my arm, I can't hunt, Sam says I need to recover more before I can do research with him and now you won't let me help you too…”
“Baby, you’re not useless.”
Sobbing you run out of the kitchen while Dean follows you with long steps.
“Wait, please.”
Turning around you look at him, he grabs your waist to pick you up and you let him. Moving your legs around his waist he carries you to your room.
Disappointed you sigh…he didn’t try to touch you since you’re back. Maybe he only brought you back as he felt guilty or Sam forced him to take you with them.
“You can let me down; at least I’m able to walk on my own.”
“What’s going on in your pretty head?”
“Did you just bring me back as Sam told you so?”
“No, Baby no, it was my idea. Sure Sam kicked my ass realizing I made you leave. But I was looking for you the whole time. Please.”
“I guess you only brought me back as you felt guilty.” Casting your look down you sob.
"Of course I feel guilty for hurting you, for making you leave me and your home. But believe me, Baby that's not the only reason I was looking for you. I…love…you. You see I'm just too stubborn to admit my feelings…but I never wanted you to get hurt.”
“Do you still want me?”
“Yeah.”
“But why don’t you touch me?”
“What?”
"You don't touch me, Dean…since I'm back you didn't even try."
“Y/N, I thought you need more time… I hurt you.”
“Sure, but I thought we wanted to try to have a relationship.”
“Yes, Baby. But let’s take some more time. We need to talk some more and decide if we can have a relationship.”
"Hmmm… how pity…" Sliding your flannel down Dean swallows hard.
Wearing no underwear leaves you butt-naked. Biting your lower lip you wait for his reaction...
Forever Tags
@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster-deactivat, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom , @thewinchesterco , @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl , @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana15, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @anushay1998
Dean/Jensen Forever Tags
@spnfamily-thewinchesters, @love-my-not-natural-babies, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @mirandaaustin93, @hawaiianohana15, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @thefaithfulwriter, @x2closebut2farx
#dean winchester#dean#SPN#spn fanfic#spn tag#dean x reader#angst#Sam Winchester#Dark Days Masterlist#implied smut
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i dont care that sylvanas is a villain. i care that her newfound explicit villainhood has come at the cost of other aspects of her character, which were interesting and nuanced and very anti-hero from the get go. like jaina, sylvanas has been flanderized into a character that is barely worthwhile - and like jaina her initial nuances and character traits have been removed and her characterization has been inconsistent since cataclysm. i care that her villainhood has come at the cost of the horde, where the narrative is consistently placing the explicit blame on the horde while ignoring alliance wrongdoings, while the alliance is “soldier” or “si7 battle mage” and the horde is “brutish grunt” and “bloodthirsty headhunter.” i care that another woman in warcrafts lore - one of four or five relevant women, and one of the four longstanding wc3 women - has had her characterization stripped, her trauma ignored, her complexities overwritten, and made to serve a narrative as a tool. the warcraft writers need politicians to do action X, and it doesnt matter which character does it, and i think its fair to point that that sylvanas has been unfairly shit on and ruined because she is a woman. im not angry shes a villain, im angry at the treatment of her character; a nuanced complex take on sylvanas could still have made her a villain (and probably would; or at the least an anti-hero; fuck its not like i havent been paying attention) without furthering the already problematic tropes and habits in the warcraft writing and narrative re: the horde, re: warchiefs, re: women. this is especially true for sylvanas, and became more true the moment blizzard published that god forsaken comic where sylvanas’ transformation into a banshee was portrayed with art. sylvanas can be a villain while maintaining prior complexities and would be a better villain for it.
garrosh was a villain too, and his character was inconsistent and weirdly written; his villainhood wouldve been more believeable if a larger emphasis had been placed on the alliance’s politics *leading* to his decisions, and if the story had either given more time or at least more gradual change to his ultimate character. that doesnt mean i hate that he was a villain; he could have been a good villain and a good character but all prior characterizations and world-building context were removed to make orc hitler. this lack of nuance is the problem; not the villainhood itself, and the same is true for sylvanas
sylvanas’s characterizations have been stripped and world-building (and history) context were removed to make her woman hitler. the horde’s villainous warchiefs are over-the-top all the time, constantly outdoing each other in war crimes, and im allowed to be bitter that a character i loved since my 8 year old ass played frozen throne has been shoe-horned into a bad, one-dimensional portrayal of an Evil Villain Witch Woman where prior existing complexties have been removed, which is especially frustrating when we know warcraft has like 5 women and they have few complexities to their characters *already*. contextually speaking there should be more complexity but its never touched upon - this is consistent with warcraft lore and narrative in general since the writing room is 1) bad at their jobs and 2) if they werent, they’re writng for an mmo so Complex Deep Narrative isnt an achievable goal anyway, but its fair that people think sylvanas shouldn’t be shoe horned into villain status in such an egregious, grotesque display of misogyny.
just because sylvanas’ characterization problems started in cata and now finally rears its head in bfa doesn’t legitimize the issues with this inconsistency. i get that i have a weak argument when “new” sylvanas has been around for 9 years (when cata came out in 2010) and “old” sylvanas was “only” around for 7 but considering warcrafts inconsistent bullshit and the way the novels have been going back and forth on this stupid shit, i dont feel like my frustration isnt fair
people who are saying sylvanas is some sort of Morally Good Character have little to no lore or character knowledge and we’re free to critique their naivete, which i think i def see in a lot of the new sylvanas fic and is like 99% the reason i cant stand most jaina/sylvanas fic. but to pretend as if “hardcore” wow players always knew that this is where sylvanas was headed and that there’s no way that the current lore and sylvanas’s current characterization is shit and not in line with other information we’ve received over the years is bullshit. like i havent been paying attention since 2003. fuck off.
people saying sylvanas was “always evil” - based on what? item descriptions and some quest shit? people saying sylvanas actually did care for the forsaken can also quote quest shit and novel paragraphs. blizzards writing is inconsistent at the best of times, so if we cant trust canon (since canons constantly subject to change) and we cant trust symbolism or theming (since blizzard threw those mostly out the window with cata and entirely in bfa) then all of our readings and opinions on sylvanas’ characters are all equally based on the same inconsistent canon on both ends. its almost as if we’re allowed different perspectives on her character and there is no right answer! so we either admit people are allowed to be frustrated at the blatant fucking misogyny and the entire underlying problem in all of warcraft lore, which just so happens to primarily rear its ugly head in the form of sylvanas in bfa, or we all shut the fuck up, because masturbating over Sayge’s Fortune #19 item description is pretty fucking ridiculous (especially when similar fun items say obviously non-canon silly things like “never eat beef with a tauren” or, if we look at similar items beyond the darkmoon faire, straight up ridicule jaina’s character for being “crazy” now)
i dont *care* sylvanas is a villain. i care that her villainy has stripped away complexities that she could have maintained as a villain, i care that her villainy escalated in almost cartoonish degrees (which is a critique i have leveled at warcraft writing before), i care that her character has been inconsistent similar to garrosh re: will she be a soomewhat redeemable anti-hero asshole or will she be another Hitler Warchief, and i care that an entire expansions focus is a woman’s villainy when warcraft has a longstanding history of misogyny and bad story telling, and yall can say “sylvanas was always evil!!” all you want, but now we’ll start seeing tyrande deal with similar issues extradiegetic, and yall wont recognize that sylvanas was the start. if she’d been a villain that was less over the top and maintained prior context for her character, then this wouldn’t have set a precedent, but it did and it will. i know its all a stupid video game but i do care about this because im a loser.
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Milestones and Misunderstandings
SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 24 | @klove0511 vs. @andromytta, @rareshipcreationschallenge
Prompt: Clone-a-Willie kit
Ship: Sam/Cass
Rating: T
Word Count: 2711
Tags/Warnings: mildly homophobic!Mary, protective!Dean, oblivious!Dean, Sam has self-worth issues, fluff, Season 14
Summary: There is something different about Sam and Cass. The lingering stares, the intimate touches. The careful whispers and secret smiles. Dean knew it. He was going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.
AO3 Link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606804
Shoutouts to my awesome betas bananamilkunnie (aka @sweetteamultifandom) and @revwinchester! Thank you both for checking this over for me.
Milestones and Misunderstandings
It started innocently. Dean was observant, when he wanted to be, and even he was hard-pressed to ignore how much closer Sam and Cass seemed these days. More than once he’d caught Cass slipping food to Sam in the library or taking lore books from him and ushering him to bed. It stung, a little, that Cass had taken on Dean’s role as big brother in his absence, but Dean couldn’t be too upset. Someone had to watch out for Sam, and Dean had asked Cass to do it, once upon a time. Still, the soft looks between them spoke of something more. Dean considered it his big brother duty to get to the bottom of it and commence teasing as necessary.
Sam was, predictably, in the library with a pile of books in front of him.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, pulling out a chair across from his brother.
Sam blinked at him. “Hey.” He frowned. “What’s going on?”
Dean did his best to sound casual. No need to scare Sammy off. “Nothing. I’ve, uh, just noticed you and Cass have been spending a lot of time together lately.”
“I suppose. He’s been staying close to the bunker for Jack. Well, that and there isn’t any angel business keeping him away for once. We’ve been taking advantage of the time.” Sam frowned. “It’s not too obvious, right? I know everyone from Apocalypse World has accepted Cass, but still. After everything angels have done to them I don’t know how they’d feel if they knew.”
Dean felt rather suddenly like he was all left feet and the conversation had somehow run away from him. “If they knew what? That you and Cass are friends? I think they know, Sam.”
Sam glowered, clearly communicating that he thought Dean was being an idiot on purpose. “No. Obviously I mean,” he waved vaguely, “the extratime we’ve been spending together.”
“What the hell are you—oh.” Suddenly it clicked. “You mean you and Cass are—” Dean also made a vague gesture that he hoped Sam could interpret. Teasing Sam over a crush was one thing, but he was completely unprepared for the possibility that Sam and Cass were already an item, and he couldn’t quite find the words he needed to articulate that.
“Well, yeah. Why do you look surprised? It’s not exactly news.” Sam was frowning hard enough that his worry line had appeared between his eyes.
Dean was struggling to find his footing here. Sam thought he knew. He implied that it wasn’t a new thing. “I don’t—How long?” He hoped that hadn’t sounded too much like an accusation.
“Years.”
“Years?” he choked.
“Yeah. It started after you left that last time. After—after Kevin.”
He remembered that particular black spot in their history too well. Cass had gone back to the bunker with Sam to finish healing the damage from the Trials. He’d thought that was all there was to it. “You’ve been hiding this for five years?
Sam’s face hardened instantly. “I wasn’t hiding anything, Dean. I thought you knew.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know? You never said anything. And you two sure don’t act like a couple. I mean you barely even touch each other.” He was flailing around at this point, but he didn’t care. He’d thought things were better than this between them. It should not have taken him five years to figure out that his little brother was in a serious relationship with his best friend.
“Just because not everyone is into PDA like y—”
“No, Sam. I’m not talking about making out in the halls or whatever, though that would have clued me in real fast. I mean touch—casual touch. Pats on the back or, or holding hands or something.” Dean could hear the frustration in his own voice and grimaced internally. This was not how this was supposed to go, but he had a nagging feeling that something was off about this relationship. He needed to get to the bottom of it.
Sam sighed. “It doesn’t matter what it looks like to you, Dean. We touch plenty when no one is watching. Even if we didn’t, I wouldn’t care. I mean—he’s an angel. After everything I’ve— The fact that he even gives me the time of day feels like a miracle.”
There it was. All Dean could hear was that Sam thought he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth Castiel’s time. It didn’t matter at all that he knew Sam had struggled with his self-worth over the years, that Dean himself had contributed to those issues as much as anyone. If Cass wasn’t making Sam happy then they needed to have a chat. Dean felt the fury brewing as he stormed out of the library. Time to have a conversation with Cass.
Dean ultimately found Cass in the storeroom, doing who knew what with the spell ingredients. “We need to talk,” he growled.
Cass looked up. “Sam said you were upset. What happened?”
“You’re sleeping with my brother!” he accused, finger pointed menacingly as he moved into Cass’s personal space.
Cass tilted his head. “I don’t understand. You know I don’t sl—”
“Sex, Cass. You’re having sex with Sam.”
Castiel straightened and took on a look that was deadly serious. “This bothers you. Why?”
“He’s my brother!”
Cass narrowed his eyes. “And?” When Dean didn’t have words to further clarify the issue with Cass’s eyes blazing at him, he continued. “He is a grown man. I was unaware we needed your permission.”
This conversation was also rapidly spinning out of his control. “It’s not about permission. It’s—Sam has a history with relationships.”
Castiel nodded. “You are referring to Jessica.”
Dean froze at how casually Cass dropped her name. Sam didn’t talk about her, ever. Except he very obviously had with his angel.
Cass continued, “I like to think I am doing rather well. I have come back to life nearly as many times as you.”
Dean frowned. That wasn’t the issue. Or rather, it was only part of the issue. “He thought I already knew. About the two of you. Despite the fact that you act nothing like a couple. And Sam apparently thinks it’s a fucking miracle you want to even talk to him. What the hell kind of relationship do you have?”
Cass’s expression darkened. “One in which I respect Sam’s boundaries. As for his opinion of himself, you think I don’t know? That I am not acutely aware of how little I deserve his affection after everything angels—after everything I have done to him?” He shrugged helplessly. “I cannot convince him.”
That was a surprise. He hadn’t expected Castiel to understand, to want to fix it as much as he did. But if he knew, if he wanted to change things—yeah, Dean could work with this. He remembered what Sam had said about the beginnings of their relationship and did some mental math. “So, tell me, what have you got planned for your anniversary?”
Cass’s confused head tilt told him everything he needed to know.
Hours later, Sam and Cass were alone in their room, snuggled on the bed with a Netflix documentary droning in the background. Sam played with the label on his beer bottle while Cass gently carded his fingers through Sam’s hair.
“I just don’t understand why he’s so upset about this,” Sam said. He looked up at Cass. “I really thought he knew.”
“I know. I believed Dean was more concerned about why you did not tell him of our relationship.” Cass let his voice drop even deeper.
Sam sighed heavily. “I didn’t tell him because I was sure he’d figured it out! That’s all!”
Cass’s pace never wavered. No matter how upset Sam became, he maintained his slow, methodical petting, knowing it would help calm Sam. “I believe you. You know how Dean worries. He has not forgotten what I did to your wall.”
Sam stiffened, then pulled himself out of Castiel’s reach. Cass felt his stomach drop in fear. It was a most unpleasant sensation. “Cass, that was years ago. Ancient history.”
Cass spoke softly. “I nearly killed you.” He wouldn’t hide from this. They had never discussed it, not really, and it was past time to do so.
“You saved me.” Sam shook his head. “You—you took on my memories to save my life.”
Cass kept his gaze neutral. “I was simply fixing my greatest mistake. I do not deserve your admiration or gratitude for that. I should never have hurt you, Sam.”
Sam stared at him. The frankness in his gaze was starting to make Castiel uncomfortable, and he thought he understood a little of what Dean had been telling him for years. Finally, he spoke. “You never forgave yourself for that.” His tone was full of wonder and understanding. “Does Dean know?”
Cass nodded. “We discussed many things today. He also enlightened me on the importance of celebrating the beginning of a relationship.”
Sam squinted while he tried to parse that into plain English. “What? The beg—Oh. You mean anniversaries?”
“Apparently they are most important in increments of five.” Cass reached out to pull Sam back into his embrace. Sam went easily and settled against Cass’s chest. “I’m surprised you never mentioned it.”
Sam shrugged. “Dates like that—birthdays, anniversaries—most of them carry bad memories for me. Besides, there’s always been so much going on that it didn’t seem that important, not like other things.”
Cass let his curiosity into his tone. “Other things?”
“You know. All the things we do when we’re actually together. Like this.”
“And intercourse.”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, that too.” He twisted so he could catch Castiel’s lips.
Cass growled and pulled him tighter. Discussing their anniversary could wait.
Dean was drinking whiskey in the kitchen when Mary got home. He didn’t say anything, just raised his glass in acknowledgement.
“Hey. How are you?”
He assumed he looked like crap. Or maybe she just assumed the worst since he was drinking alone. “Fine. Just found out Sam is dating.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “Does he sleep at all? I didn’t think he’d have the time to find someone.”
Dean laughed brightly. It felt good after fighting with Sam all day. “Honestly? No, I don’t think he sleeps. But it’s Cass, so it’s not like he had to find time to go out to bars.”
Mary sank into the seat opposite Dean. “Sam is dating Cass?”
“You didn’t know either. That—actually does make me feel better.” He took a big swallow of his whiskey and winced at the burn. He lifted the bottle to refill his glass and offered it to her.
She waved it off. “I didn’t know Sam was like that.” Her voice was small.
He was a little drunk, so he wasn’t quite following her thread of the conversation. “Yeah, apparently they have been together for five years. Anniversary is tomorrow. I’m helping Cass plan something, but I have no idea what to get them as a gift.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
“Sammy and Cass? Nah. I mean, I’m still kind of pissed that they never freaking said anything for five years, but that’s about it. Sam could do way worse. Has. Dude seriously has a thing for monsters though.”
“Do I want to know?” she said.
He shook his head and took a drink. “You really don’t. I mean, I liked Madison too. We didn’t find out she was a werewolf until later. But Ruby. That one was—” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway. Why, does it bother you?” There wasn’t any accusation in his tone, but his senses were starting to wake up. Like he might have to defend Sam.
She gave him a tight smile. “Things are so different these days. I forget sometimes. But he’s my son, and I will always love him. You’re right, he could do much worse than Castiel.”
Dean hesitated, weighing her words, then nodded. “Help me think of a gift for them?” He grinned at her, and she smiled warmly back.
Sam entered the dark kitchen and was startled when he realized it was occupied. Castiel was waiting by the table, trench coat conspicuously missing. On the table were some of the plain white candles they kept for spells, arranged in a cluster and lit. The lights were off, leaving the room lit by a soft glow. Something that smelled heavenly was served on the table. Sam knew what this looked like, but he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Cass, what is this?” His voice was softer than he expected.
Castiel smiled broadly. “Happy anniversary, Sam.”
“You cooked?” Sam asked.
“Dean cooked. He planned all of this. I merely agreed to let him do it.” Cass tugged on one of Sam’s hands, pulling him closer. “I thought it was time you had some good memories associated with our anniversary.”
“Thank you.” Sam smiled and brushed his lips against Cass’s.
Dinner was amazing, which wasn’t all that surprising since Dean had cooked it. What was more surprising was that Sam realized this was the first proper date they’d had in the whole five years they’d been together. “This was really nice, Cass,” he said.
Cass grinned. “Yes, it was. Dean also informed me that we have the entire bunker to ourselves for the night, and that after dinner I should take you in the library.”
Sam nearly choked on his bite of cheesecake at Castiel’s phrasing, though he was pretty sure the angel hadn’t meant it that way. “The whole bunker? Where is everyone?”
“Hunting, mostly, I believe. Dean and Mary have acquired motel rooms for the night. Jack is with them. And Dean has instructed everyone to check in with them instead of you until tomorrow.”
Just then, Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket. His eyes widened as he scrambled for his phone. It had been silent all evening and he hadn’t even noticed. This was why he’d never made a big deal out of going on dates or celebrating anniversaries. He could barely handle turning his brain off long enough to get laid. Longer than that and someone was liable to get hurt. He pulled his cell out as he felt Castiel’s hands cover his.
“Everyone is safe, Sam. Dean is taking care of your hunters. You have the night off. Please, can we enjoy it?”
Sam took a deep breath. “Yeah. We can. But I did get a message. Can I?” The earnestness and love he saw in Cass’s eyes were almost painful. He didn’t deserve it.
Cass nodded agreement, and he checked his phone. One message from Dean, confirming everyone had made their check-ins. Everything was fine. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
After a moment, Cass took his hand and led him toward the library. Sam was about to say something, when he spotted a package sitting on one of the tables. He automatically reached for the note laying on top of it. He was expecting it to be from Dean, given the lengths to which his brother had apparently gone to give them a nice anniversary. Sure enough, Dean’s neat handwriting fill the sheet.
Sorry I was such a jerk earlier. It’s not everyday my little brother celebrates a milestone like this, especially with the lives we lead. I know things have been pretty rough the last couple years, and Mom helped me realize you’ve probably spent more time apart than you have together. Knowing our luck, that’s probably going to continue. Hopefully this makes future separations easier. –Dean
“Wow. This looks weirdly sincere,” Sam said, turning to hand the note to Cass.
Castiel hummed and wrapped Sam in a hug. “I believe Dean mentioned something about taking you in the library. Can it be time for that now?”
Sam chuckled and opened the gift, determined to tease Cass just a little longer. When he finally got a good look at the package, he froze.
Cass piped up from over his shoulder. “I do not understand. What is a Clone-a-Willy kit?”
Sam privately thought he was going to kill Dean. Then again, it had been an amazing night so far. Maybe he would let Dean off the hook, just this once.
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? ? ? ? (One each for Jacques, Alrek, Faust, and Xheta and four for you. >:3c)
LONG ANSWER IS GONNA BE LONG! So after the first pair the rest shall be kept under a read more :P
Despite his rather grumpy, constant bitch face scowl look Jacques has one thing that he loves to do more than anything. And that is cook. He may not be the best cook of those he lives with but he’s pretty damn close. The main things that Jacques loves to cook would be Far Eastern dishes like Buuz, Buns, etc. as well as Roast Dinners like Roast Dodo, etc. He loves cooking for his friends, company and anyone who he is close with because it gives him a chance to just enjoy being normal for a change.
Much like Jacques, I love to cook myself! And what’s an interesting fact about me and my cooking. Well before I moved here to live with my wonderful wife @talechaser-ffxiv (Who sent this ask in lol) I actually did a lot of outdoor cooking in a home built Fire Pit. We would cook a variety of food on it as well ranging from Chicken, Steaks and Pork Chops to things like whole roasted ears of corn. I miss those days a lot really… I want to do more cooking but it’ll have to wait until we get a new place. Then I can spoil my wife with all the good home cooked meals.
Amusingly enough, Xheta when I originally made him I kind of accidentally had him look very similar to @talechaser-ffxiv‘s P’shali. I just wanted to play around with designs and my brain sort of went to that and it happened. He’s obviously changed a lot since then. Xheta is extremely powerful when it comes to using magic, the biggest problem he has however is that he is extremely unstable with it due to him being a clutz naturally. This is what not only has earned him quite the reputation as a failure in the various cities across Eorzea but has lead to people simply hating him upon sight because just about everyone knows about this Miqo’te halfbreed (He’s a Keeper/Seeker Cross) that has nearly blown up the Alchemy lab in Ul’dah, has almost burnt down the kitchen in Limsa Lominsa and has ruined a massive amount of tanning hides in Gridania just in his attempts to make a living.
Okay so this fact won’t really tie into Xheta but taking the screenshot for his section of this made me think on it and well I have to share at least THIS particular story. When I was working Retail back in Kansas at Wal-mart there was some person going around and calling in fake bomb threats to the various stories in several cities around us. While on my shift, this person decided to do this to our store… FROM THE PAYPHONE INSIDE SAID STORE. Myself and a co-worker had barely heard the overcome announcement and when we both took a look at our badges (which had the code colors for emergencies and such) we both just went Oh… I rushed to get my customer out as quickly as possible (so they wouldn’t have to come back after they were sent out) and basically helped with getting the customers and everyone out into the parking lot while we waited to see what was going on. I spent the better part of I think 4 or 5 hours outside while Police searched the store, middle of summer. The most hilarious part was when the Police came out and told us to MOVE FURTHER AWAY FROM THE BUILDING… needless to say my group of friends and co-workers just went “oh shit did they ACTUALLY find something?”
The tiny and angry halfbreed looks like he’s plotting something. Anyway, Faust was just a random idea I had one day with the desire to make a character who was a bastard child of one of the Noble Houses in Ishgard. He just so happens to be the bastard child from House Durendaire. As you have likely seen his mother was of the Qestir tribe and for the most part she was essentially sold off to the highest bidder in Kugane and thus Faust was born shortly after that. Faust is a ball of rage because his father absolutely detests him, wants him dead and gone to ‘wipe clean’ the mistake that was made. Unlike Xheta who is meek and basically a timid scared child, Faust WILL let you know that he is not happy about something and he will stand up for himself. That’s what he had to learn just to survive in Ishgard and the Brume whenever he was sent there to ‘get out of the way’. Faust has a great fondness however of Haurchefant since he was often taken to House Fortemps to study, train and learn. It is why he adopted the name Greystone.
If there is a common trait that I might share with Faust it’s just well in several ways we are similar. I do not take bullshit from anyone, I tend to be a do not touch me kind of person and for the most part all around I can easily come across as someone that you just don’t want to mess with. I pretty much often describe myself as a bitch even if my friends will say otherwise. I’m certainly getting better about a lot of things and doing much better but I still have what my wife loves to call a wall of thorns that many people need to slowly go through in order to get close to me. I’ve been hurt many times by people who have claimed to be friends and it does show, again it’s something I’m certainly getting better at and have gotten much better since I’ve come to live with my wife.
And the final child, Alrek is a lot like Faust in that he was certainly an experimental character. But with so much information pouring out from the Post-Stormblood story I think I’m finally getting the right ideas for him now. Alrek is a ‘son’ of Zenos but not in your traditional way, he was an experiment that was developed through the Cloning Technology that we find out about through Solus. He was potentially going to be used as another weapon of war, much like Zenos was to an extent but not to the extent that was obviously done with Jacques. Because Alrek is a Half-Garlean (He has Au Ra blood in him) he actually has scales that run down his back to his hips and thighs, he also has a tail which is goes down to the back of his knee for length. No one really knows about this besides his Guardian (Arjeant Greystone) and those who created him obviously.
Right so… I’m honestly out of ideas for facts about myself by this point. The only things I can really think of are that well for the most part things that people likely already know about me. Overall I’m a huge game nerd who loves things like FF, etc. I was a huge fighting game person back in the day, I have owned every pokemon game that has been released (for the most part save for more recent years), and I tend to be a person who gives no fucks about things and can roll with it, especially in RP. If you break lore, world break, etc. it doesn’t matter to me so long as everyone is having a good time right?
SEND “?” FOR A FACT FOR BOTH THE MUN AND MUSE!
#FFXIV#FFXIV RP#Mateus#Mateus Server#Mateus RP#Dragon Knight Responds#LONG POST IS LONG#Jacques#Jacques Cresent#Au Ra#Au Ra Xaela#Xaela#Xheta#Xheta'ra#Xheta'ra Zisrho#Miqo'te#Keeper of the Moon#Faust#Faust Greystone#Half-Elezen#Half-Au Ra#Halfbreed#Faust de Durendaire#Ishgardian#Au Ra/Elezen#Alrek#Alrek yae Galvus#Garlean#Half-Garlean#Garlean/Au Ra
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Imperfect Little Demon
(x)
Summary: Dean is a demon and Sam and the reader have been attempting to cure him for two months to no avail. Dean’s getting out more often though and it’s only a matter of time before he finds a way out of the bunker for good. Can the reader and Sam figure out a cure or are they stuck with Dean as a demon forever?
Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader (featuring plenty of Sam)
Word Count: 9,300ish
Warnings: language, kidnapping, mild injury, threats of violence, kinda drugging, self-depreciation, mention of suicidal thoughts to alleviate pain, mentions of canonical torture
A/N: There are parts of this fic that are somewhat dark so heed the warnings (most of these are not described in great detail though)...
A/N #2: I missed writing Demon Dean and wanted to put a different spin on it with this...
“Dean,” you growled, his green cocky eyes on his brother, smiling at him while Sam held a blade to his throat. “What did you do?”
“Sammy and me were just playing a little real life whack-a-Sammy, weren’t we,” he said, shaking his head, eyes still locked on a panting Sam. “You don’t have the guts. Put that thing away Sammy before you hurt yourself.”
“Sam,” you said, ripping the blade out of his hands, holding it to Dean’s throat who shrugged as he glared at you. “Go relax. I’ll take him back to his room.”
“Oh, sounds kinky,” said Dean, your hand on his shirt collar turning him around, shutting his playfulness off. “Y/N, back off.”
“Watch yourself Dean,” you said, pressing the tip of the blade ever so gently against his pulse point, Dean’s breathing changing for a moment. “Good boy.”
“Stop it,” he growled, letting you walk him back to the dungeon, staying perfectly rigid as you went.
“Behave. Last time I nearly nicked your pretty neck when you started thrashing around. We both know how scared you got when that happened,” you said.
“I was not scared you pathetic little-”
“I said watch yourself,” you said, changing the angle on the blade, letting the sharp point give the lightest cut to his skin.
“Okay, okay!” he said, an angry whimper grumbling through his teeth. “Don’t mess around with that thing. You might actually kill your precious Dean.”
“I was going to cook you a steak dinner tonight too before you went and escaped your room,” you said, walking Dean back into the dungeon, pushing him over the devil’s trap and stealing the lore book he’d managed to sneak in back. For someone who had always hated research, he sure was damn good at finding new ways out of a devils trap. Dean grumbled and sat down on his mattress, crossing his arms at you.
“Can I please have steak for dinner?” he asked, forcing a smile on his face.
“Considering you tried to kill your baby brother...no,” you said. “You were being good too ya know.”
“What can I say, I get a little antsy sitting in here staring at the same four walls all day long,” he said, twitching his bottom lip.
“Yes, you’re so obviously being treated poorly, Mr. Demon,” you said, throwing your arms around. “It’s not like you have a bed and laptop and tv and books and booze and snacks and even a freaking bathroom Sam put in. We could leave you tied up in a hard ass chair all day with nothing so consider yourself lucky.”
“Aw, I hurt her feelings?” said Dean, giving you a mean smile. “Always was such a tough little thing except when she was around Dean. What’d you tell him? He made you feel safe with a big and strong guy around to take care of you?”
“Hey, genius,” you said, crossing your arms at him. “Maybe if you help us figure out why the blood cure didn’t work and how to get you human again, maybe you can go back to those hugs and kisses you liked so much?”
“Oh sweetie, the only thing I want your mouth wrapped around on me is my-”
“Watch the mouth or you can have peanut butter sandwiches for the next week,” you said.
“Oh, what awful torture!” he said, rolling his eyes. “I give it two days before you’re back in here with another book to try another cure that won’t work and I’ll get out again and I’ll hunt you two down again and it’ll be a whole thing again and-”
“Bunker’s warded babe,” you said, cocking your head with a smile, his face falling. “Good luck finding it. Until then, you can stay as strong as a pissed off three year old.”
“Still strong enough to take care of you and Sam,” said Dean with a shrug. “Better get going on that cure sweetheart. One of theses days, I’m getting out and I’m certainly not getting tossed back in here.”
“I’ll bring you dinner in an hour, demon boy.”
The next day felt odd. Sam had to run out for supplies, only home long enough to drop them off before Jody was calling, asking for backup on a case. You sent Sam off, knowing he needed a break from his brother, knowing you needed to have your nurture time with him.
You rarely did it when Sam was home but Dean had never mentioned it to him and you were fairly sure Sam wasn’t aware you did it at all. It wasn’t a secret but in a way it was. Dean wasn’t surprised when you walked in through the open door to the hall way around lunchtime, dragging a chair and then another in. You slid his roast beef sandwich over, chewing on your own as you took a seat. Dean quietly stood up from his bed and adjusted the tv so you could see, moving his big bean bag chair over close to you but that barrier keeping him from actually reaching out and touching.
You were midway through a comedy, both of you laughing when you caught him looking at you, something sweetly dangerous staring back.
“I can be good,” he said, glancing up innocently. “I can act like this outside of this room too.”
“Don’t do that,” you said. “Our relationship is on hold until you’re a human again, Dean. You know I can’t let you out. You’ll hurt me or use me to get to Sam and then get rid of us both.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind leaving me to finish watching on my own,” he said, his jaw going hard. “Please.”
You sighed, taking the plates and chairs away, Dean nodding a thank you for giving him some privacy. You knew his head had to be a whole lot of messed up and it hurt to see him fight not only you but himself at times. It was probably just a faint echo in the back of his head but you knew from the way he looked at you sometimes, how he let himself get caught sometimes...your Dean was somewhere buried deep down in there and he wanted the fuck out.
After doing a couple chores you passed by Dean’s room, catching him passed out in his bed, the tv going while he caught a nap. You figured you were due for one yourself and some nice and fresh sheets were the perfect thing to crawl into. In twenty minutes the dryer would be going off anyways and Sam would come home to a clean house for once.
“Oh no,” you said before you even opened your eyes. Your arms were behind your back, not that that was cause for concern. The fact you couldn’t move them or that you were laying on something cold and hard screamed your afternoon plans had gone horribly wrong.
“Now...I have to say, Y/N. For as careful as you are, you done messed up sweetheart,” said Dean, his hand patting your cheek making you groan. “Up and at ‘em.”
His hands on your shoulders tugged you into a sitting position, your eyes blinking open to find you were in the library, leaned up against one of the columns. Dean was sat in a chair across from you, twiddling the demon blade in his hands, laughing to himself.
“See...whenever you come in there and just hang out, I know Sam’s not home which makes this...well it makes it really fucking easy is what it does,” he said, chuckling when you tested the ropes on your wrists, finding them way too tight and already cutting into your skin. “The other part...you made me bleed. Not nice, Y/N. Not nice at all. It was barely a paper cut but...it was all I needed. I found a neat little spell in the grimoire. Get out of a devil’s trap free card but...and here’s the kicker...they don’t work on me anymore. Doesn’t that just sound really shitty for you?”
“Is this the part where you kill me? Or torture me? Or...bore me to death? I’ve had the enjoyment of being stuck with Lucifer. Trust me, you’re like dealing with an oversized kitten right now, bucko,” you said, doing a pretty damn good job of sounding indifferent to the whole situtaiton if you thought so yourself.
“Where is the warding that’s keeping me from leaving?” he asked, finally pointing the knife at you.
“Sorry, don’t have a clue,” you said with a shrug and a smile.
“You actually don’t, do you,” said Dean with a laugh, you face flickering. “Alright, I’ll hand it to you, that’s a little bit smart.”
“Well if you want to untie me I’m sure Sam would love to tell you when he gets home. In fact, I’ll go over to Jody’s and ask him and then I’ll be sure to come right back and tell you, okay?” you said, Dean pursing his lips, your own pouting.
“Or,” he said kneeling down, grabbing your hair until you whimpered. “We call him and if he doesn’t give me the answer, I’ll use every trick in the book I learned in hell on you. I wonder what’ll happen up here if I do it? I bet you wouldn’t even last until the fun stuff...or I’ll just use the grimoire and that little book of the damned and keep you going until-”
“Stop it,” you whined, Dean’s face faltering for a second.
“If he tells me what I want to know, I promise I won’t hurt you,” said Dean, his grip still too tight but his voice softer. “The more scared you sound, the easier this’ll go.”
You didn’t say anything, Dean relaxing his hold until he was running a hand over your head, shushing you while the phone rang. The second you heard Sam’s voice on the other end, Dean’s hand clamped over your mouth, his finger tapping it onto speaker.
“Y/N? What’s-”
“Hiya Sammy,” said Dean, giving the phone a smile. “Y/N’s a little tied up at the moment but we sure were curious where you put that warding.”
“Dean, don’t-”
“Y/N, say hi to Sammy and I mean only hi. Understand?” he said. You nodded your head, his hand sliding over to cup your cheek.
“Hi, Sam,” you said, the hand immediately back, a large huff of air spurting out of your nostrils, Dean ignoring you.
“She’s alive and as pretty and perky as ever. If you want to keep her that way, tell me where the warding is and I mean now, Sam,” said Dean. Sam was quiet on the other end, Dean staring at you. “Looks like he’s hanging you out to dry, sweetheart...I guess we’re finding out if your-”
“Garage, behind the red toolbox on the floor, near the garbage cans,” said Sam with a sigh. “It’s on the wall. Let her-”
“Thank you,” said Dean, ending the call, pulling his hand from your mouth to snap the phone in half. “Let’s hope he was telling the truth, huh?”
About five minutes later your butt was cold from the cement floor, Dean nodding to himself when he pushed opened the garage door and stepped outside, the warding holding him gone.
“Freedom, that’s nice,” said Dean, taking a deep breath, gaze going back to you. “It’s not fun being locked up, is it.”
“Are you gonna kill me?” you asked, Dean shaking his head. “Torture me?”
“I think I want an insurance policy right now until I can figure out where to lay low,” said Dean, your head dropping. “If you’re good, maybe I won’t need to keep you stuck in a chair either.”
“Just let me know when I wake up from this nightmare,” you said, Dean hauling you to your feet, putting you in the back of Baby and taking off without looking back.
Six Months Later
“Ouch,” grumbled Dean, your eyes blinking open to see him on the other side of the dungeon, his eyes furious. “What did you do!”
“I’m locked in here with you in case you hadn’t noticed!” you said, staring at your wrists in front of you, the leather bracelet that you’d worn for so long now gone.
“What did you-”
“She didn’t. I did,” said Sam, pulling open the doors, giving you a hard stare. “You’ll feel like your old self soon and Dean...you’ll feel like your old self pretty soon too I hope. The two of you are going to sober back up into your normal selves the next few hours and then I’m putting you both to bed.”
Sam gave you a little nod before he left, closing up after himself, your wrist covered in a nasty looking scar, your other hand squeezing over it.
“Y/N, you got to figure out a way to get us out of here,” said Dean, your eyes spotting the chain around his ankle. “Come on sweetheart. I know you can do it.”
“I don’t think I’m supposed to,” you said, cocking your head at him. “You’re...I thought...you...I’m going back to sleep.”
“Y/N. Don’t...Y/N...dammit Y/N!”
You woke up alone in an empty bedroom, Sam giving you a big hug when he came by a few minutes later. Your body had it’s will power back, Sam already saying he’d destroyed that thing Dean stuck on you months and months ago. Dean had quickly given up on you seeing things his way, preferring a bit of spell work to keep you what you could remember as being in a happy but fuzzy state. It wasn’t like you didn’t have disagreements during that time but you always quickly caved to him and figured you weren’t looking at things from the right perspective. You never remembered him hurting you or being afraid but there were times when you really just wanted to take him home to Sam and couldn’t.
“Sammy,” you said, his hand rubbing up and down your arm. “How’d you find us?”
“Took a bit of tracking down but I finally figured out he got his hands on that bracelet and that if I tracked it, I could find you both. You must be feeling a lot better, huh?” he asked, your head nodding. “We’ll talk more after you get some sleep.”
“Is Dean okay?” you asked, Sam’s pause making your stomach drop. “You didn’t...”
“The cure I have...it’s...think of Dean being at a center point on a line. One way is good, the other bad. The cure is going to...push him a little down the good, so less demon...but then snap him back bad so more demon. He’ll have to go back and forth until he gets all the way good again and he’s human,” said Sam.
“That...what?” you asked, scratching your head.
“He’s on the good right now so that’s a positive,” said Sam, rubbing the back of his head. “He just...needs to live in the dungeon a little while longer is all. It’s going to work. It’ll just take time and we both need to be very careful about him getting loose again.”
“Sam, how positive are you that this cure will work? Devils traps are no good against him anymore,” you said. Sam didn’t say anything but his eyes flickered down, slowly coming up with a pained expression.
“It...might work...but probably not...I had to get you back somewhere safe again. I saw you guys on some gas station footage and you were sticking to him like glue. I knew he did something to you and had to get you home,” said Sam. “I’ve been more focused on making sure I didn’t miss you in a morgue than looking for cures.”
“I’m okay, Sammy. Not sure he actually has it in him to do that despite what he says. As far as locking him up again, that’ll have to be okay,” you said, nodding your head. “We’ll just have to ward the bunker and his room and that hall. That’ll help keep him put, right?”
“Warding plus the cuffs will-”
“No cuffs,” you said, Sam sighing. “No. Cuffs. It’ll scare him.”
“Your undying desire to treat him normally is sweet Y/N but he’s gotten out too many times and he’s going to be extra pissed off so I’m sorry but he needs to wear them for now. He can still run around his room and crap, just for our own protection, we need it,” said Sam.
“Fine. I’ll get him to do it,” you said, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress. “It’s less likely he wants to kill me right now anyways.”
“Please be careful,” said Sam. He pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket and handed them over. You slowly walked down to the dungeon area, seeing all of the warding painted on the walls there, more so in the hall just outside Dean’s room. Dean was laying on the floor, Sam seeming to have left the dungeon set up for Dean in your absence.
“Well if you wanted to get dirty, all you had to do was say so, sweetheart,” said Dean, turning his head with a smile, resting his hands on his chest. He spotted the cuffs in your hands, shaking his head. “Not really in the mood for that though. Maybe later.”
“Dean, put them on,” you said. He shrugged his shoulders, wearing that big grin the whole damn time. He looked behind you at Sam, flashing his black eyes, Sam inhaling sharply.
“Why so scared, pup? Big brother won’t bite...” said Dean, snarling his lip up for a moment.
“Put the cuffs on, Dean,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and sat up, holding out his arms. You tossed them at him, Dean sighing, snapping one on with a wince, the other with a growl. He panted hard a few times, shaking his head out at the sudden energy loss. “We’ll figure it out Dean.”
“I’ve been hearing that for a long time Sammy. Might be time to realize this is permanent,” said Dean.
“I’m going to research,” said Sam, turning and walking out. Dean stood up and walked just a few feet away from you, cocking his head.
“How about you be a good girl and let me out of these, sweetheart?” asked Dean, holding up his arms. “I know you weren’t on board with this.”
“You forced me to go with you. You deserve it,” you said. Dean dropped his arms, laughing to himself.
“You were being stubborn. Admit it, you like me like this,” said Dean, biting his bottom lip. “You’re very own demon on your side.”
“I’ll bring you some food in a little while,” you said. Dean scoffed and you unfortunately turned around, saw the dangerous green eyes staring back.
“I said to let me out of these cuffs,” said Dean, stepping over the old devil’s trap, backing you down the corridor.
“I’ll be back,” you said, quickly getting into the hall and locking the door tight behind you.
“Y/N, please,” you heard Dean mumble through the door. “You know me.”
“I’ll be back soon, Dean.”
Nearly two months had passed and Sam’s rubber band cure was a bust. Dean was agitated that he was stuck with the cuffs on most of the time but he was behaving. So much so, Sam thought it might be okay to leave him on his own while the two of you went off on a lead.
“Sam, I don’t feel comfortable leaving him here locked up by himself,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. He closed his laptop, running his hands over his face with a groan. “One of us needs to stay.”
“Last time he was home alone with you, he-”
“He won’t get out. I won’t go near him, I promise,” you said, Sam sighing, holding up his hands.
“Fine. But I swear, if I find out you even went near that side of the bunker...” warned Sam, your head nodding. “I know it’s hard Y/N but it’s not him. We’ll get him back.”
“Let’s hope fifty seventh time is the charm,” you said, Sam chuckling.
A few hours later Sam was on his way towards Washington, the bunker warm and not at all sinister feeling for the fact you had a demon hiding away there. You kept your word to Sam that you weren’t going near Dean, letting him fend for himself on a few sandwiches and other things you made up and gave him before Sam left.
You took a long hot shower that evening, wracking your brain for some new angle you hadn’t thought of yet. Nothing came apart from a growl in your stomach. You wrapped up your hair in a towel and threw another one around yourself, padding down the hall into the kitchen.
“I was dying for grilled cheese,” said Dean, standing in the kitchen, munching on a slice wearing a big smile. Your stomach was falling and hit rock bottom when you saw the demon blade was on the counter behind him. “You were pretty distracted in that shower. You didn’t even hear me hide all your little weapons.”
“How...” you asked, Dean shrugging.
“Well, it’s only a wood door. A few good hits with a chair did it in,” said Dean, taking a big bite, moaning to himself. “I’m gonna make you one, this is delicious.”
“The warding,” you said, Dean shaking his head.
“There was an old bottle of cleaner shoved on one of the shelves in the back. Few wipes cleaned it away. The cuffs were from a bobby pin of yours. I picked it off you two days ago,” said Dean. He took out two slices of bread, buttering one side, layering a few different kinds of cheese before sticking the other side on, tossing it in the hot pan. “You didn’t eat yet did you?”
“No,” you said, tucking your towel in tight, Dean glancing back over his shoulder at you.
“Worried about something back there,” he said, your eyes scanning the room, Dean frowning at you. “You didn’t believe me when we were on the road I see.”
“Believe what,” you said, Dean humming, plopping a sandwich down on a plate for you. He carried it over with a smile, handing it to you.
“I want to have a life with you. Sam too. You’re my family,” said Dean, your hands resting under the plate. Dean backed away, gave you some much needed space, even if he looked hurt in doing so.
“You...no, I don’t feel one bit sorry for you. You took me and basically drugged me and-”
“Yes. I am a demon sweetheart. My patience runs a little short these days. I apologize for that. Now I think I’ve been locked up enough and been good enough lately to show that I do feel bad about that. I just...you really don’t understand how much that blood cure hurts. You two keep trying it over and over and I was afraid it would happen again so I apologize for acting out,” he said, holding up his hands.
“You can shove your apology up your ass,” you said. “Get the hell back in your room, stay there, and maybe I won’t tell Sam about-”
“Mmm, alright, I understand our relationship will take some mending,” said Dean, crossing his arms. You thought about smacking him with the plate in your hands but his shot out first and grabbed it, setting it down on the counter beside him. “I guess you aren’t hungry then.”
“Why won’t the blood cure work? Why?” you growled, Dean taking a deep breath. He shot a hand out, gently resting over your neck, not squeezing, no pressure at all actually, but enough to make you go still.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s been almost a year, Y/N. It’s time you and Sam stopped and got with the program. This is the Dean you get now and I’m getting damn tired of being treated like some thing by you two. I’m a demon. Well guess what, you’ve screwed up a whole crap load too and I don’t see why everyone else gets special treatment over me. I was your boyfriend, your best friend, that random stranger you saved on the easiest hunt in the world because my stupid jacket got caught on a stupid hook and I should have been a goner. Why do you not give a crap about me anymore?”
“Is this your way of apologizing?” you asked, glancing down at the hand on your throat.
“Actually, it is,” said Dean, pausing a few seconds, your body waiting for those long fingers to squeeze.
It didn’t come, his hand sliding around to the spot between your shoulder blades, shoving you hard behind him. You stumbled to the floor, nearly losing your towel on the way. You lifted your head to see another man in the room, Dean throwing a punch at him, your eyes wide.
“Y/N!” Dean shouted as you reached your hand up to the counter, grabbing the blade above you. You tossed it over to him, Dean continuing the motion and shoving it through the man’s gut, sparks lighting him up before he collapsed. “Sorry for the bit of theatrics. I really needed you to not back up straight into his arms was all.”
“How did a demon...how...” you said, Dean shaking his head.
“Okay, I might have accidentally taken down a bit too much of the warding I suppose. You hit it back on and I’ll clear the rest of this place just in case,” said Dean, holding out a hand to you. You saw him sigh and fumble with his shirt, ripping off the flannel and tossing it to you. “Cover yourself up with that for now.”
You got up on your own, buttoning the shirt up tight, thankful for the length as you left your towel behind, Dean clearing hallways until you could get back in the electrical room. After a minute, the warding was back up, Dean moving around the bunker with efficiency, the rest of the place empty.
“Sorry, I didn’t...I didn’t mean to turn off the whole damn thing off,” said Dean, looking over at you with careful eyes. “You okay?”
“Was that a set up just now? To get me to believe you?” you asked.
“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours. Why’d you stop giving a crap about me?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” you said. “I’ve been trying to turn you-”
“You can’t stand what I am now. Awesome,” said Dean, nodding his head. “No, it also wasn’t a setup. But I know you think so highly of me so it’s not that much of a surprise.”
“If our roles were reversed, would you believe me?” you asked. Dean bit his bottom lip, shaking his head.
“Tell me what I need to do to get your trust back. I’ll do it. I swear. I’m...Y/N I think I might be stuck like this for good. I don’t want you and Sam to hate me forever. I want us to be normal again. Maybe I won’t be able to interview witnesses or hunt the same way I did but I can do other stuff now. I can protect you and Sam better. We can make this work. Please give me a chance and if I screw up, lock me up. Please? One little chance?” he asked.
“Go to your room. I need to clean up that demon in there and think about this.”
“Y/N, I grabbed some beers and takeout on the way home,” said Sam, walking down the stairs a few days later. “Washington was another big ole waste of time. I’m at my wits end and...”
“Hi Sam,” said Dean, sitting at the library table, reading a book. You were already out of your chair, Sam barely setting the food down before his gun was in his hands.
“Sammy, it’s okay, we’re...trying something new and it’s working so far,” you said, nodding over at Dean. “He just wants to be treated normal and it’s a lot easier for him to act like his old self when we do.”
“He’s a demon,” said Sam.
“You were addicted to demon blood. How many times did I get you clean? How many times did I help?” said Dean.
“Y/N, it’s a trick and you know it,” said Sam, gun still raised.
“We came to a little arrangement,” you said, Dean tugging at his shirt collar, showing his anti-possession tattoo. “If he kills, or hurts, anyone with this mark, the one we all have, whatever he does to them...”
“You used that mimicry spell on it,” said Sam, dropping his gun. “That thing killed a god last time we saw it.”
“Strong enough to kill a god, strong enough to kill little old me,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “I’m on a tight leash. I get it. Just don’t strangle me with it.”
“You so much as accidentally bump into her in the hall, you look at her the wrong way-”
“Sam,” you said, pushing him away from Dean. “Dean’s been out for nearly two days now and it’s the best two days we’ve had in a year. This...this might be a good way of doing things.”
“Tight leash,” said Sam, glaring at Dean. “Let’s eat, demon boy. I’m starving.”
It’d been nearly two weeks of your mimicry spell on Dean and he was doing remarkably well. He was brash and couldn’t help from being a little menacing looking at times but he was helping with chores and organizing your research with you and Sam to make sure you weren’t wasting your time on anything old.
“Y/N,” you heard Dean say, knocking on your door one night. He normally went to bed before you and Sam as a demon so hearing him up this late was strange. You pulled open your door and he was grimacing, clutching his stomach. “Sorry to bother you but I don’t feel right.”
“Okay,” you said, nodding, his body already stepping inside and sitting on your bed. He was pale and covered in sweat. You put a hand on his forehead and he was absolutely burning up, his face and neck hot to the touch.
“I promise, I didn’t hurt Sam, I didn’t,” he said, shaking a little as he wrapped his arms around himself.
“I know. You’re okay,” you said, laying him down on the bed. “Sam! Something’s wrong with Dean!”
You heard Sam patter down the hall, wearing a grumpy expression that softened quickly when he saw Dean curled up in a ball. Sam sat down on the bed, Dean groaning now, his nails digging into his flesh.
“Hurts,” Dean whined, his face scrunched up. Sam carefully put a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing up and down it, Dean nearly sobbing from the sounds of it.
“Did you eat something funny? Or...did you have a sore throat and you didn’t tell anyone or...does it feel like some demon flu? Do demons even get sick?” you asked Sam, his shoulders shrugging.
“Hell,” mumbled Dean, letting out a sharp grunt. “Make it stop. I’ll do whatever you two want just stop, please.”
“Dean, we’re not doing this to you,” said Sam, trying to shush his older brother. “What the fuck is going on with him?”
“I said stop!” shouted Dean, Sam’s body flying back agains the wall, your own getting pushed out into the hall, Dean howling on the bed as he felt the impact from you both.
“Alright,” said Sam, standing up, clenching up his fist and popping Dean in the face. He went limp on the bed, Sam’s chest heaving as he glanced over at you. “He wanted it to stop he said.”
“We need to figure out what’s wrong. Now.”
“Hey, Dean,” you said, running your hand through his hair as he woke up a few hours later, giving him a soft smile. He looked nervous, blinking his black eyes away before squeezing them shut, trying to hide from you. “You’re okay now. You’re not in hell.”
“What?” he said, lifting his head up, looking at Sam who was sitting at your desk.
“My rubber band cure...it’s actually been working this whole time,” said Sam softly. “It’s just not that apparent to us because it’s happening to your soul. Tonight...you got snapped pretty hard to that dark edge, made you feel like you did when you were in hell, when you were being...hurt. Hopefully when you snap back this time, you’ll go full on human again.”
“If it doesn’t, I have to feel like I’m back in hell again?” he asked, glancing back and forth between you two. You turned back to Sam, frowning when you caught Dean’s face. You ran your hand over his head again, Dean shuddering into it.
“We’re going to stay right here with you,” you said, smiling at him.
“I thought I was a no good evil demon,” said Dean, closing his eyes.
“Well even if you are, neither one of us can stand to see you like this,” said Sam, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ll stick with you, get you through this.”
“I don’t think I can do that again,” said Dean. “It’s gonna get worse.”
“We’ll be right here.”
Four days later Dean was helping wash the dishes when he doubled over, looking up like he wished you’d put him out of his misery.
“Sam! It happened again!” you called, hooking one arm under Dean, Sam coming in and helping you get him back to your room and in a bed, just in time for him to start thrashing.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this!” he shouted. “It’s like...it’s that last day, the day I broke and it hurts so bad. Please, you got to stop it.”
“Dean, you can get through it,” you said, Dean shouting, the muscles in his entire body so tense you saw just about every vein bulge out. He shook his head, eyes landing on the demon blade over on your desk. “No. You can get through it.”
“I couldn’t then,” he said. “Neither of you want me and I have a bad feeling this isn’t going to make me human. It’s making me stuck like this and you’ll go back to hurting me and...I can’t breathe...”
“I think he’s starting to have a panic attack,” said Sam, Dean sitting upright and shoving him away. He locked eyes with you, your body already moving to get the blade as far away from him as possible. You were out the door with it, Sam tackling Dean, Dean following you out of the room with a big bruise on his cheek.
“Y/N, just let me do this,” said Dean, backing you up in a dead end hall, reaching for the knife. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to. I won’t make you do that.”
“I won’t let you do this,” you said, kicking at the air vent on the ground, leaning down and chucking the blade in, Dean scrambling on top of you to get at it. “I am still right here with you, Dean.”
“It’s gonna break me,” he mumbled, slumping down, holding his body tight, Sam rounding the corner. “I’m a demon and you can’t fix it.”
“Okay, Dean,” said Sam, hositing him to his feet. “Back in bed. We got you.”
Dean shook and shivered and shouted for what felt like days in that bed, still asking for you to put an end to him but his energy to try another move on his own completely gone. Sam made you take a break after the third day, take a minute to forget about what was going on. It almost worked too until you heard him shouting for you.
“What? What’s wrong with him?” you asked, Dean sitting upright in bed, staring at his lap.
“It didn’t work this time either,” said Dean quietly, Sam sighing.
“Maybe it has to go one more time?” said Sam, Dean raising his head. He still looked in pain and honestly, like he was afraid of his brother.
“Leave me alone. Both of you,” he said, laying back on the bed, tossing his covers over his head. Sam held up his hands, following you out to the kitchen.
“Why the hell is he acting like a...like a...I swear he’s like a toddler almost,” said Sam, your head shaking.
“His head as a normal adult is screwed up. This...going through all the pain of hell again, being a demon and trying to go against that nature to be good, this cure that’s bending him back and forth in the blink of an eye...what if he’s right? What if it doesn’t make him human? What if it makes him a demon for good? We’ll have hurt him for no reason and he’s pretty close to terrified in there right now,” you said. “Which is ridiculous considering he’s a demon.”
“Y/N,” said Sam, rubbing his eyes. “I never had it in me to do what he’s asking. Why do you think every time he got out, he went after me? He knew I couldn’t do it. You can get that real cold look in your eye which makes it so hard to know what’s going on up there but I know deep down you wouldn’t do that to him either. We’ve got an emotionally unstable demon on our hands and no fucking clue what to do.”
“What if we turn off the mimicry spell,” you said, Sam cocking his head. “I don’t know how to convince him that we still care. Even if he’s stuck, we’re still here for him, right?”
“Of course we are,” said Sam, giving you a smile. “We’ll turn it off and give him a little while to get his head on straight. Or as straight as it can get.”
“Maybe he’ll even crack a smile,” you said, stepping out into the hall, catching Dean lingering by the doorway, looking away quickly. “Dean.”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” said Dean, glancing down as Sam cleared his throat.
“Feeling any better?” asked Sam. Dean hummed, refusing to look at either one of you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“You want to take a shower? Get in some new clothes while I put some fresh sheets on that bed?” you asked.
“Why are you two doing that,” said Dean, slowly running his hand through his hair, like the simple task took up too much energy. “You don’t know what the cure is doing to me. I might try to kill one of you next time.”
“No offense tough guy but I think we can take you,” you said, Dean letting out a short laugh. “Do you need help in the shower?”
“I can do it myself,” he said, pushing off the wall, wobbling a little on his first step. You ducked under his arm and supported his side, Dean sighing. “I could use some help.”
“Alright demon boy,” you said, taking a short step forward, Dean following after. “Let’s get you fixed up.”
A week later Dean was panting in bed, a brief break in this next round of pain. He wasn’t freaking out this time though. Whatever small amount of trust he had in you and Sam to get him past this, he was clinging to it for dear life.
“You’re okay baby,” you said, wiping the sweat off his forehead, Dean glancing up with a smirk.
“I haven’t heard that in a while,” he said, coughing, reaching for his water. You helped him sit up and guide it to his lips, Dean sucking it down greedily. “This one feels different. I think we’ll know one way or the other after this.”
“I don’t want you to be scared about what happens if you’re a demon. Sam and I...we’ll take care of you,” you said. Dean nodded, turning his head away. “Starting back up?”
“Yeah. Might want to put your headphones back in. This one’s gonna...” said Dean, your music blasting in your headphones again as he gripped the bedsheets tight.
You slipped off your headphones in the middle of the night, resting your head on the bed and leaning over in your chair. Dean seemed like he was either having a long break or on his way over this thing. You could only hope for his sake it was over soon.
A large hand was rubbing up and down your back, softly going over your head at times, lightly stirring you awake. It was different than Sam’s touch but you weren’t the least bit frightened by this one.
“Hi Dean,” you said, blinking your eyes open, green ones staring back.
“Hi,” he said, moving the hair out of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“It didn’t work, did it,” you said, Dean smiling.
“No, it didn’t,” he said, still running his hand gently over you. “It did something though. Something just feels different in me now. I want...I want you and Sam to try the blood cure one last time.”
“Dean, you need a break from feeling like absolute shit,” you said, Dean chuckling.
“This time I’m asking you to help me. I know it if doesn’t work, it’s not the end of the world. One last time, that’s all I’m asking,” said Dean, your face burying into the mattress. “I want to try one more time for you.”
“One more time.”
“Well...that was unexpected,” said Dean shaking his head as you took the restraints off his arms after giving him his last injection.
“We could write our very own lore book on you,” you said, Sam getting the ones off his legs, Dean still shaking his head. “Tell us again, Dean.”
“I don’t...I don’t feel like a demon anymore. I feel normal and...pretty damn fantastic actually,” said Dean, stretching out his arms. “But...I can still do this.”
One of the restraints that had been on Dean’s arm was floating just off the ground, doing flips and curls like a ribbon before it fell down.
“Your soul is perfectly pure and not an ounce of demon in sight. You kept the hardware for some reason though,” said Sam, scartching his head. Dean glanced back and forth between you, staying seated even when you both stood up.
“So I’m not human,” said Dean. “Not really.”
“Yeah, you are,” you said, leaning down in front of him. “You just got a little devil side in you too. We always knew that though.”
“Y/N, I’m serious,” he said, swatting your hand away when you tried to hold his. “I’m still incredibly dangerous.”
“Led Zepplin is an awful band and their music deserves it’s own special place in hell,” you said with a smile, Dean pouting at you. “And your car sucks.”
“That is untrue and you know it,” said Dean, squinting at you.
“Now, Mr. Big Bad Demon, if you really were a demon, what would have done just now?” you asked. Dean pursed his lips. “Exactly.”
“But-”
“Dude,” said Sam, grabbing one of his hands, pulling him to his feet. “I guarentee Y/N during her special time of the month is far more demon than you are.”
“What was that Samuel,” you said, glaring up at him.
“Told you,” said Sam, Dean still not moving when Sam tried to get him to follow. “Dean, come on. We even made you a birthday cake for the one you missed last year. Please?”
“You made a birthday cake for a demon?” said Dean, rubbing the back of his head, his cheeks blushing for the first time in ages.
“We told you before. We don’t care what you are. We’re going to stick by you,” you said.
“Maybe we’ll tease you about the demon thing every once in a while but even if you were full on demon, we’d still be doing this,” said Sam, ruffling Dean’s hair.
“Thank you. Both of you.”
You were just about asleep when a knock came at your door. You hopped out of bed, worried something had happened to Dean. Instead he was standing sheepishly at your door, rubbing his eyes.
“Are you okay? Do you have a fever? Your stomach hurt?” you asked, running your hands over his face, Dean chuckling at you.
“No, none of that,” he said, pushing your hands down. “I...I had a nightmare.”
“Oh,” you said, pulling him inside, patting the bed. He climbed on top of it, crossing his legs as you got back under the covers. “This is really old school for us. Pre-dating us actually.”
“I don’t think we’re dating anymore. I remember being told we weren’t a thing until I was human again and since I guess I’m not quite there all the way, I have to earn that back,” said Dean, rubbing his neck, looking anywhere but you.
“Would you be nice to yourself for two seconds, Dean?” you said. “Speaking of which, would you look me in the eye when we talk? You still act like you’re scared of me.”
“I don’t want...sorry,” said Dean. “Multiply my baggage from a year ago by a thousand and that’s where I’m at now.”
“Good thing I never cared about the baggage then, huh?” you said, flipping back the covers on the other side, patting it again, Dean hesitantly shifting his body to slide under them. You ran your hand over his head, Dean’s eyes fluttering shut. “What was your nightmare about?”
“It’s going to sound silly,” he said, leaning back against the pillows, turning his head towards yours.
“There’s nothing silly about a nightmare. You can tell me anything,” you said, Dean humming.
“I was a demon. A full on big scary demon and you were scared of me,” said Dean, your smile faltering. “Are you?”
“No,” you said, pulling him closer to lean on you. “I just get scared of you acting the way you did during the cure again.”
“And risk that ass kicking from you? No thanks,” said Dean, forcing his eyes open. “I will never do that or say something like that ever again. I don’t feel like that anymore.”
“I’m just glad that third time hurt less,” you said.
“Worst one actually,” said Dean, your head cocking. “I didn’t want you or Sammy to look at me like that again. I knew I was going to be alright, no matter what happened so even though it hurt the most, it was easier in a way.”
“We aren’t scared of you, Dean,” you said, smiling at him, his green eyes crinkling up when his smile reached them. “I missed that look on you.”
“I missed you,” he said, his smile slipping as he went to sit up. You shifted your arm around his shoulders trying to pull him back down. “It’s okay. I feel better now, sweetheart.”
“You always stay,” you said. “That’s the rule.”
“You really want me still?” he asked. “After everything I said and did?”
“I miss you waking me up with your snoring and tangling our legs up and your bear hugs in the morning. I just want to wake up with you by my side again, baby,” you said, kissing his forehead, pausing before you moved to kiss his lips.
“Stop,” he hissed, turning his head away, taking a deep breath. “You just...you did something to me just now. I don’t know what but...”
“Does something hurt?” you asked, Dean’s head shaking, his head rubbing it.
“Look at me,” he said, blinking his eyes. “Are they black?”
“No,” you said. Dean spun around, grabbing your phone off your night stand and putting it on the bed, staring at it.
“It won’t move,” he said, scrunching up his face. “I can’t...the demon stuff, it isn’t working.”
“All because I kissed you?” you asked. Dean shrugged, the two of you hoping out of bed, heading into the library.
You were flipping through pages and pages, Dean running off after a minute to come back with two cups of coffee, the two of you getting down to research. It was a few hours later, deep in the middle of the night when Dean burst out laughing.
“You have got to be shitting me,” said Dean, looking at you with a look of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re okay. Oh, we are so much more than okay.”
“What’d you find?” you asked, climbing into the seat beside him, Dean still laughing.
“It was a fear curse. On you,” said Dean, your face scrunching up as he showed you the text. “’The thing you love most will become what you fear most. Only loving the thing you fear wholly will remove the curse.’ Y/N, you kissing me...you love me still. No wonder the blood cure never worked or the other one...I wasn’t really a demon. The more I trusted you, the more you trusted me...the more you were falling for me again and the more I got better. I’m human. I’m me again.”
“My biggest fear was not being there for you,” you said. “Letting your demons win out.”
“I guess my inner demons decided on being a demon. Good thing I wasn’t a bug. You’d have squashed me,” said Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.
“Oh thank god,” you said, giving him a big sloppy kiss. “I mean we we’re okay before but-”
“Kind of obvious you would have loved even a broken me at this point, Y/N,” said Dean, picking you up, heading off for Sam’s room.
“Told you I’d never give up on you,” you said.
“I know,” said Dean spinning you around. “I love you, love you, love you. I don’t have to worry about hurting you or Sam now. Thank you so much for that.”
“You wouldn’t have,” you said, Dean humming as he kicked at Sam’s door.
“Sammy! Guess what!” shouted Dean. Sam ripped open the door, a gun in both your faces, Dean hitting the deck with you as Sam jumped.
“Geez, don’t sneak up on me like that!” said Sam, lowering the gun. “What? He turning into something else now?”
“Your big brother’s all human again. Turns out it was a curse on me,” you said. “I’m guessing it must have been from that witch hunt in Tulsa way back.”
“Still a little devil,” said Sam, tucking his gun in his pants, giving you and Dean a big hug. “Now do you feel better, Dean? No bull this time.”
“Yes,” said Dean with a smile. “A thousand times better. Whatever you two want, it’s yours.”
“We got what we wanted,” said Sam, squeezing you both too tight but Sam too happy to care at the moment. “And Y/N sort of wanted to go see a chick flick this weekend.”
“Sure,” said Dean, laughing against you. “If you want to take your rascal of a boyfriend out that is.”
“When’s the last time you were outside, Dean?” you asked. He shrugged, Sam quickly grabbing a couple extra coats from his room, the three of you heading back to the library and outside into the cool night air. You were already shivering two steps out the door but Dean took a deep breath, smiling to himself.
“I want to go camping soon,” said Dean, glancing back at the two of you. “And go eat at that new steakhouse that you two said I would love. And buy a big bag of gummy bears and just chow down until I get a stomach ache. A hunt, I want to go on a hunt in a couple weeks too, get my footing again.”
“We can do all of that, Dean,” said Sam. “Promise.”
“We should get back inside. She’s shaking like a leaf,” said Dean, wrapping his arms around you. “Great idea sweetheart. I needed this.”
“I need a blanket,” you teased, Dean getting the two of you back in bed within five minutes flat. He fell asleep easily, for possibly the first time in a year but your mind was in overdrive.
“Hey,” he mumbled, nudging you with his head. “Go to sleep. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I thought you were sleeping,” you said.
“It’s not your fault,” he grumbled, popping open an eye. “Now cuddle your ex-demon please. He’s had a very long day, long year, and I’m very likely going to have more nightmares or cry at some point tonight so the closer you are, the less I have to move to hide away in you.”
“I kind of like this emotional honesty thing, a nice little change of pace,” you said, scooting close enough where he could pull you flush against his chest.
“My head feels like I just got off a very, very long rollercoaster,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t have it in me right now to act like the tough guy.”
“I’m still with you,” you said, kissing him, earning a smile that put your worries at rest. “No matter what version of you I have.”
“Always with you too sweetheart.”
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Assassin’s Creed II Review
i finished assassin’s creed ii (2) and now i will write a thing about it
visuals and gameplay (which i normally wouldn’t group together but for this game it makes sense)
It’s from the era where everything is a desaturated shade of murky brown or sewerage green but once you get past that, it’s really a beautiful game. I think some areas get less desaturated as you play, but that might’ve just been time of day or me getting used to it. Having finished the game, I’ve reached the point where I’m not taken out of it by the visuals, and I actually appreciate the views a lot. I certainly liked it early on, but it took a while before I took it in that much. I feel that everything fits together really well, hard to explain exactly, but it’s just very solid and quite immersive. I didn’t learn the map very well, there are landmarks, but most of the cities are so samey that they don’t have many memorable areas. They’re distinct from each other, but internally, they feel pretty much the same wherever you are. It’s probably historically accurate, but it sometimes feels like you’re just running through what might as well be a procedurally generated series of tiled rooves. Overall though, the world looks good and serves the parkour system pretty well, and that’s what’s important. The parkour system gives the whole freedom thing but is also a bit unpredictable at times. It doesn’t magnet you into things as perfectly as newer games do, so I pretty regularly missed jumps (though I do kinda suck on a controller). It’s especially frustrating when you’re trying to do a leap of faith (super high jump into a hay bale indicated by a flock of birds and birdseed) and you somehow miss, like 99% of the time you go in, but if you don’t you make a complete fool of yourself. I started checking some of the less obvious ones, which kind of defeats the point of the whole system.
NPCs are fairly primitive (maybe good for the time considering the crowd density?) but for whatever reason, I found that in tandem with the world, it was enough to be pretty immersive. In typical Ubisoft fashion, the world tries to be immersive while also being very gamey, as in there are all these consistent, familiar setups that you learn and can use as tools. Of course, this does mean in missions you sometimes find many conveniently placed solutions nearby, but rarely was it annoyingly blatant, and it kind of fueled the whole badass thing. The main thing that took me out is that there are a bunch of bugs. Visible spawn-ins (a couple of times I sprinted full pelt into a squad that spawned like a metre in front of me), parkour bugs, odd NPC behaviour etc., are pretty prevalent. It’s not Cyberpunk 1468, but it’s pretty meh.
Money is fucking dumb. For the first hourish you’re barely able to afford anything. Then you get access to a town that generates shit-tonnes of money for you, and then you start getting thousands of florins when you so much as cough impressively and money becomes an entirely empty system. It’s honestly kind of comical. It’s good because you don’t have to worry about a stupid economy system, but it’s also obviously a bit dumb. I see what they went for, like you’re meant to build up this place to have a higher value and generate more money that you can then spend upgrading it and stuff, but I was more than comfortable with the amount of money I was getting in when I’d done like 10% of the upgrades. Oh, and then there’s this retarded system where you can buy artworks to add value to your base, but you never see them, they don’t add much value, and they’re really cheap. So honestly they’re just kind of there for the sake of being there, and near the end I started just going to the town’s art shops and bought all their artworks with the billions of florins I’d saved up. Also, to max out your base’s value, you have to buy every armour piece, even if it’s weaker than the one you’re up to (and the best armour is unlocked in the story anyway). And you can’t change which armour/weapons you have equipped without going back to your base. Not that it matters because it’s so easy that it doesn’t matter what you have equipped, more on that later.
The classic issue that’s plagued AC forever is the repetitive fetch-questy bullshit missions, and yes they are there, but they honestly didn’t annoy me much at all. There are probably less than one for every story mission, so it honestly becomes a nice way to break it up. The exception is the assassinations, but they’re basically just cool bonus missions. You can do them whenever you want, and they have the gameplay of the main assassination missions. So they’re almost like missions distilled to their best bits without much backstory or polish. Oh yeah, and then there are the towers, but they’re kind of fun. You have to figure out how to get to the top (usually relatively straight-forward), the parkour to get up can be pretty fun, and then you get a nice view at the end. Honestly enjoyed them a lot for what it’s worth.
A major problem I had is that the game is just too damn easy. Yes, it’s meant to be a badass simulator to some extent but even if you don’t touch the controller for a whole fight, by the end of the game it’d take several minutes for enemies to knock your health down close to zero and then you have a gazillion health potions that start you all over again. More and more I felt very little risk in anything, and if I failed to do a cool plan for an assassination, then it usually wouldn’t matter and I’d be better off just going with it than I would waiting to die to try again. Fights with a small group are fun and break things up but it becomes a chore quickly and you start running away just out from fear of boredom. The best moments for difficulty were the forced stealth sections where you can’t get caught, but the problem with those were that if a guard becomes alerted then you instantly lose, even if they went from zero to alerted as you fall into an air assassination. The most fun with stealth outside those missions was the slim margin moments where you kill a guy just barely before they alert everyone, but you can’t even do that in stealth only missions. The ‘hidden in plain sight’ approach to stealth is pretty neat though so I’ll give it that.
It’s action-stealth but very action-oriented. It isn’t like a stealth game that you can jankily do some action stuff in, it’s easy to do things guns-blazing and a bit awkward but possible to be stealthy. I usually took the route of staying relatively hidden until I was in a good spot to assassinate my target and then got them and ran off, and I’m pretty sure this is how they want you to play based on the trailers and such. Coming with the easiness thing is that there are so many ways to kill people. You have a radial menu with around eight different weapons, and I can tell you that I used only three - two of which have quick access on the d-pad - outside of some very specific cases. I could’ve finished the game with just the hidden blade, sword, and throwing knives. It’s honestly absurd, for instance, there’s a knife that does less damage than your sword and is maybe slightly faster(?) Not only do you rarely need something between the sword and hidden blade, but there’s also no quick button for it on the d-pad, so it just never gets used. The excessive number of weapons include a couple that are meant to be tools for stealth, but it’s such a faf to go into the menu and select them that I rarely could be bothered.
story and stuff idk
The story was pretty great, but I think some people exaggerate it a bit. Yes, the writing is pretty good, and Ezio is a great protagonist as far as video games go. What compelled me the most in the story was uncovering the conspiracy, not the characters’ story arcs. Even then, I got a bit lost halfway through. That’s not to say the characters are bad, they’re A-tier as far as video games go, but there’s no interesting development or real emotional thing behind anyone other than Ezio, and even then, it’s a kind of. He has some character development, but it’s pretty much done in the first third of the game. I will say I definitely cared a lot and was never annoyed by the story, and that’s rare for me. There are some dumb plot points when you think about them for a bit though, and there’s a retarded twist near the end. There’s the standard moral ambiguity thing you get in video games though. You learn about how you need to respect who you kill and only kill people for the common good and blah blah, but then you regularly kill half a dozen guards to go pick up a few hundred florins out of a box. And then there’s the fact guards instantly get sus if you’re on the rooftops (fair enough), which gives you an incentive just to kill them so that you can keep using the more fun method of travel. Whatever though, video games be video games. (story spoiler for people who have never played assassin’s creed, skip the italic bit if you wanna avoid) Oh yeah, the modern-day bits. Almost felt like there weren’t enough, to be honest. Like, I’m more interested in Ezio’s story, but there is so little closure in the modern-day stuff. Felt a tad underdone. The conclusion of the game gives a pretty intriguing ending for the like the lore of the modern-day story, but it leaves a lot of questions unanswered for both Desmond and Ezio’s story, and honestly, overall, it kind of feels like a massive cock tease for the rest of the Ezio trilogy. The last level is here and there. Very out of place and comes out of nowhere, but also pretty epic I guess. The final boss is pretty meh though; they’ve built a system where it’s impossible to make it actually difficult, so it’s basically just another fight.
Small note: the DLC is basically two extra chapters before the final chapter. So you end up hitting that, and you get voice lines that are kinda confusing (cause they’re written like you’ve finished the game and come back), and then you have that thing where you can tell that it’s DLC and not the main game. Kinda takes steam out of the tension built up to the second-last chapter of the main game, but whatever. The DLC itself is pretty great, but I’d maybe not be saying that if I’d explicitly paid for them and it wasn’t just included with the PC version.
Oh yeah, there’s one mission that I loved the premise of but hated in practice, and it’s pretty much the peak mission in the whole game (it’s even the one depicted in the trailer).
Basically (major game spoilers, minor story spoilers, skip the whole paragraph), you have to win a series of games at a carnival to get a ticket into a party hosted by your target. Once you’re in, the guards start to catch on, and you have to blend in while they swarm the party. Then your target shows up on a boat for a speech, and you have to kill him, preferably without having the entire city guards notice you. So conceptually, that’s pretty sick really. But there are so many issues with it that completely took me out of it. First, the carnival games. Instead of being bothered to program a whole new system to make this make any sense, you just have to “win” all of the games, two of which are basically just standard side-quests where you’re just competing against a clock or not dying. It completely took me out how the whole concept doesn’t make any sense, like you only get the ticket if you *win* all the games? What if you came second in one? I’m competing against no one though, so there is no second. It just makes zero logical sense. Then there’s the party. It’s pretty good up until the bit where you actually have to assassinate the guy. A character you’re with suggests that you don’t swim across, and instead you shoot him with the gun you just unlocked and do it in time with the fireworks that are going off, so that no one notices, and it’s given in that typical video game character giving gameplay directions kinda way. Great, except the fireworks are just a background sound, and there’s no difference whether you time it right or not. Also, guards get alerted the second you start charging up your shot if you’re not entirely hidden, so it doesn’t even matter. You still get the guards chasing you if you do the suggested method. However, I realised that there was a convenient tower nearby and thought maybe I was meant to sneak to the side of the party and climb the tower and “snipe” him! But no, because the game doesn’t let you target him from that high up. As far as I could figure out, there’s no particularly elegant way of taking him out, especially not without getting the guards on you. It was just so unsatisfying to have this great setup, probably the best in the game, but have it feel rushed and broken. Other than that I rarely had a problem with the story missions, other than the standard few “oh great a tailing mission” moments, but come on man, that’s such wasted potential.
[spoilers over]
conclusion
What I loved about this game was the atmosphere and jumping around exploring 15th century Italy. That’s followed by the aforementioned badass simulatorage and some aspects of the story. There was very little about this game that I proper disliked other than what I’ve mentioned. It’s an easy game to get lost in, and it’s not as stupid long as most open-world games, so if you’re a little interested, it can’t hurt to give it a shot, I guess. You have to appreciate exploring worlds a lot though, which I do. Zero challenge, so avoid like the plague if that’s an issue. If you want an actual stealth game in a similar setting with far more choice and challenge, you want Dishonored (which imo is the better game, but it’s a different type of game). This game is more jumping around buildings and taking in the world, and oh yeah also you’re meant to be a sneaky assassin. Also would highly recommend using a controller. Avoid playing the Xbox 360 version on backwards compatibility though, because I did that, and apparently, it’s a common problem for your entire save to get wiped at one specific bit. How d’you reckon I found that out? Thankfully, my old PC save was at the right point. Also, Ubisoft protected sexual predators for years :). Thanks for listening to my TEDx Seatle talk.
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