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deafeningbelieverdreamland · 8 months

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Today’s very special species spotlight is True Gargoyles/Goblin Gargoyles/Sea Gargoyles/Mimic Gargoyles/Gargoyles Curse! That’s right we’re covering all things gargoyles and their subsequent subspecies! Lets see what our stone friends have going on Omegaverse wise.

Societal Stuff: Gargoyles typically have a bad rep in many societies outside their own and those that frequently see them. This whole of course prejudice being the biggest factor, is also due to many myths surrounding them. You see, there are spellcastors with the ability to curse individuals and turn them into ferocious monsters/familiars simply known as the Gargoyles Curse. However the only resemblance they actually have to said gargoyles is their stone-like appearance. The easiest way to tell a cursed one apart from all others is that they are always on all fours, lack any sort of wings, only have red glowing eyes and look like a mix between a hound and a lion with small curled horns and large fangs growing out from their lower jaw like upside down tusks. They too however also flee to the darkness but unlike the rest of them they stay active and never need sleep nor to hibernate. They also are the only ones that posses the power to breathe fire. They often smoke up a place to ambush people and hide in it. Another reason maybe due to some of the Goblin Gargoyles ancestors having very little intelligence and acting like wild animals. Their ancestors are still around today though in fewer numbers but will absolutely terrorize any and all who enter their territories. Plus any creature who is nocturnal or prefer the cover of night will always have a bed rep among humans unfortunately. However in some places (especially those with magic users) they believe them to be guardians. Scaring away any threats that could harm their homes. This is probably due to their commonplace as familiars and them often forming their homes in and around important structures in many places. And they seem to be associated by travelers as “living umbrellas” as they often are seen protecting themselves and others from the heavy rains. Using their wings as big covers.

Packs and their structures: For True Gargoyles, their packs are usually between 4-9 members. Any less than that may be a sign that something has gone wrong. All gargoyles are very pack oriented and will be seldom seen alone or without one. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t ever happen it’s just rare. Right the pack, out of those members its a singular alpha that is in charge. Often being responsible for deciding where to live and just bigger life decisions for the pack as a whole. There also is typically only one alpha in the pack. The beta males or beta females will often have the responsibility of keeping track of where everyone is. Making sure everyone makes it to safety before sunrise. The other second genders (besides omega tyrants and omegas which I’ll come back to) are simply responsible for themselves. Now omegas are definitely gonna be on marble duty. They refer to their pups as marbles which is both funny and adorable. They are responsible for making sure both their eggs and marbles are safe and will not roam as freely as the others. Omega tyrants when they are in a pack often form them without alphas and will be in charge of practically everything. Thus they seldom leave and track the others whereabouts as well as make all important decisions. Goblin Gargoyles are the most loose with their pack structures and they all leave and do their own things at night. They leave any eggs they have at the nests and take pups with them as they do any jobs or tasks. Not making one more responsible than the other. They also have 4-16 members. Now that’s a lot of packmates. For Sea Gargoyles they have 10-20 members and always have two alphas instead of one. Their structure is also more akin to the true gargoyles so the responsibilities are dealt out the same as theirs to each respective second gender. So yes it could also just be two omega tyrants but also never a omega tyrant and alpha situation as it has to be both. Probably due to how they will always clash to prove who is superior. Mimic gargoyles actually are the only ones known to go in without a pack for their entire lives. Sometimes they form one and sometimes they stay individually. More often than not individually. But when they do form packs it’s normally if they are mimicking the same species or similar species. And their pack structure is akin to the goblin gargoyles. The only difference being each individual has to be responsible for at least one egg or marble. Those under the gargoyles curse do not form packs period.

Raising of Marbles: For true gargoyles as mentioned in the packs and their structure section they leave most of the care to the omegas. Doesn’t mean the others aren’t involved in any way but the omegas are doing most of it for sure. As eggs they really only need to make sure they stay in the nests and are kept dry from any rain. Omegas often have to be their eggs and marbles umbrella. For young marbles they need to be able to teach them how to fly. Gliding from one building over to the next back and forth in practice. The omega will grab them with their feet and fly them back up when done. They also have to make sure they don’t stray too far out of their territory. They have amazing vision and could see others from miles away. They start trusting them to fend for themselves when about 16 and can fully fly without any help. Goblin gargoyles don’t look after any eggs and simply trust the safety and security of the nests and that no threat enters the territory as it’s usually hidden. Now as for their marbles… they actually are born practically knowing how to fly already! They bring them along with them during the night and they keep an eye on them until they start presenting then they are are able to watch themselves. Wild. What most would call irresponsible parenting they would call about average. Sea gargoyles will watch the eggs but once they hatch out they have to look out for themselves when they’re gone. Trusting them to not leave their territory. They don’t even bring em along. Poor marbles. You’d think for the one that has the biggest pack formations they’d have at least one person watching them but nope. Once fully grown they can venture out. Mimic gargoyles always carry their eggs and marbles with them. Which may seem a bit dangerous but you know. They don’t ever let em out of their sights. Each one caring for one until they reach adulthood (18). Those with the curse can have marbles but don’t raise them and their fate would be left to the world or their master taking care of them. They are born with the curse as well.

Territories: True gargoyles most always seem to form any territories around cities or citadels. Occasionally small towns but most often they look for places to build dens/master bedrooms/fortresses/nests. Which for them is any tall structures or buildings. Varying in size and often are marked and drawn out like airspace’s. Goblin gargoyles prefer cities and towns as well but instead make their homes underground. Usually residing in subways or caves. Their territories are defined by the whole of the city or town. Sea gargoyles often reside in shorelines and their territory consists of a shoreline. Mimic gargoyles don’t maintain any consistent territories and normally instead travel place to place. Those with the gargoyles curse guard territories of their master. If they do not have a master they simply don’t have any.

Dens/nests/fortresses/master bedrooms: (The following is true for true gargoyles) Alphas often build their dens at the highest point of their building and are built wide and deck like. Often built from stone, concrete or rubble they happen upon. They dedicate only a tiny portion to shelter and the rest go to having a lot of space for others to walk around or land on. Omegas build theirs on the lowest level (lowest for them being 10 stories up) and have the same materials being used by alphas only with the added comfort of having tarp like bedding. How soft. Fortresses are often built only slightly above nests and are fully encased in those materials with seemingly no point of entry. They often seal themselves inside and then break it open to let themselves and others in. Though this maybe why they often are waking up frequently during what is supposed to be a hibernation stage because their bodies simply can’t tell if it is summer or not. For the master bedrooms they simply take up vacant rooms of the building above the other two but below the alphas. (Goblin Gargoyles) They actually only build fortresses no matter what the second gender and they all sleep together in there. Sealing it like the true gargoyles would. However their internal clocks seem to be way better at guessing when to awake. (Sea gargoyles) They all only nest no matter what the second gender and will make it out of sand. Almost burying themselves during the day. For mimics this depends on what species they mimic! As for the ones that are cursed they don’t build anything. Though they do have a habit of staying just outside of buildings and sleeping there.

Heat/rut cycles and the number of marbles per second gender: For true gargoyles heat/rut cycles happen for alphas/betas/omegas every 3 weeks and they last about 4-7 days. The marquesses have theirs every week or two and aren’t really consistent in duration and have mainly ruts but also go through heats where as for marchionesses have mainly heats but also go through ruts. The tyrants all only happen once a month and last for 2 days. For goblin gargoyles alphas/betas/omegas have them once a week and last two days! For the other second genders though it remains the same as the other. (This will also be true for the rest of the ones I mention except for the cursed ones which I will get to.) For sea gargoyles their alphas/betas/omegas have their heat/ruts every month and last 4-7 days. For mimics this heavily depends on what species they are mimicking! And cursed ones actually do go through them and are typically the same as humans. (Which is mentioned in my Omegaverse AU/headcanons ultimate edition post which is pinned if ya wanna check it out) During hibernation all their bodies turn fully into pure stone and thus they actually don’t have to deal with heats/ruts at all during the summer months! This is again true for all except the cursed ones which stay active all throughout the year.

Fertility: (True gargoyles) Alphas can lay 1-5 eggs at a time with the most common number being 5. Beta males can lay 1-2 eggs at a time with the most common number being 2. Beta females can lay 1-3 eggs at a time with the most common number being 1. Omegas can lay 1-14 eggs at a time with the most common number being 1. Marquesses can lay 1-10 with the most common number being 3. Marchionesses can lay 1-10 with the most common number being 3. Tyrant alphas can lay 1-23 eggs with the most common number being 23. Tyrant betas can lay 1-23 eggs with the most common number being 13. Tyrant omegas can never lay eggs. (Goblin gargoyles) All second genders except tyrant omegas can lay 1-3 eggs with the most common number being 3. Tyrant omegas never lay eggs. (Sea gargoyles) All second genders except tyrant omegas can lay 1-2 with the most common number being 1. Tyrant omegas never lay eggs. (Mimic gargoyles) This yet again depends upon which species they are mimicking. Cursed ones no matter what will only have 1 unless of course they are a tyrant omega and won’t have any.

Presenting: For all species they start presenting at 10. For true gargoyles their wings are fully grown by this point and look much bigger than they are for a long while until they grow more into them. For goblin gargoyles by this time they will have been on their own a lot and have a lot of independence but also get a bit full of themselves at this time. Sea gargoyles will have learned how to swim much faster utilizing their back fins that are also now slowly developing thin layers of scales that will be used for gliding just above the water. Mimic gargoyles start feeling less clingy to their parents and will want to walk beside them instead of being carried. Though may frequently go for piggyback rides anyways. For cursed ones this simply means the start of annoying cycles and are still stuck with a smooth spot on their necks for being picked up.

Scenting/marking: They all mark both each other and the spaces they live in. Sea gargoyles have the most peculiar habits however. They not only tend to scent each other each day but also don’t mark around their territories at all! Bizarre right? Not even the nests they reside in. Now why is it that they find it’s more important to mark each other rather than anything else? Not sure. However they also value doing that to things they own as well. Not unique to them of course but it’s weird its only those two things.

Bond bites: With all gargoyles apart from goblin gargoyles and true gargoyles they actually seem to hold no value in forging bond bites and will simply not do so. Seeing it as more of a hindrance. Goblin gargoyles (especially the male betas which is interesting) like to bond bite or be bond bitten by their many partners. True gargoyles are more a one true pair sort of species and will often treat bond bites as a major commitment. And have it only be one partner typically.

Genetic stuff: For all species of gargoyles (minus cursed ones) there seems to be a 5% chance that any born that reach adulthood and enter hibernation may end up staying stone! A very scary genetic to have indeed and unfortunately the whole population carries it. Luckily it’s super recessive and like I said only affects 5% but yes very unfortunate nonetheless. Good luck sleeping knowing that.

And that’s all for this special species spotlight! As usual let me know if you want to see a certain species or subspecies covered and of course feel free to ask any questions you may have remaining regarding this or any other one I have mentioned previously!

#omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o universe #alpha beta omega #omegaverse au #omegaverse headcanons #species spotlight

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spookberry · 2 years

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After finding out about being a werewolf, Tucker’s mom took him to go visit some old family friends!!

#danny phantom #monster high #half normie au #I have like a whole thing about this in my head fyi #Angela's siblings are both werewolves and The Wolfs were friends with them back in high school #Angela was the only one who went to Normie school so was never as close with the Wolfs but nonetheless on good terms with them #After Angela married Maurice and had Tucker though it became common place to pretend to be human around the Foleys #because Maurice didnt know monsters were real and then Tucker was born and rather than revealing monster existence to her husband too #she just decided to keep up the ruse for both of them #ya know unlike with adjl where jake and haley both know about the magical world and its just a secret from their dad #plus it just wasnt a problem most the time #and also in this au Howleen was a bit of a late bloomer too up until like fifth grade #its why shes a bit more awkward about fitting in than her siblings are #just a lil hc for ya #that shapeshifter type monsters like Werewolves are capable of disguising as humans or as big fluffy wolfs if they so desire #but imbetween states typically come more naturally to them #and for whatever reason 'late bloomers' are werewolves that arent born in that inbetween state #and as such have a harder time learning how to get out of it #most werewolves are pretty split culturally on whether its better to squeeze into human society ya know fake it til ya make it #or to just hide from humans and live freely in monster society #tho monster society is already inherently secret from most normies #tho its more of an Open Secret sorta thing #like how everyone in Amity knows ghosts are real #but if you go one town over theyll scoff and say its all some kinda publicity stunt

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theodora3022 · 4 years

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Since you wrote about Yandere Villians with Y/N having a cute fairy quirk, how about a Yandere Hero having a Y/N with a monstrous quirk? SO...you pick the hero! Pick any male hero who you believe can handle Y/N. You do such amazing writing.

Y/N have to wear a face mask to hide the muzzle she wears going outside. Y/N have a quirk where she goes on a frenzy. Her eyes turn red, her veins pop out of her skin, she starts growling and trying to bite anyone near by. A monster who craves to rip flesh and bones. Y/N can turn on her quirk if she feels so much anger or fear. Y/N doesn't want to hurt anyone. She wants to live a quiet and alone life.

Wolf

Pairing: Best Jeanist x f!reader

Warnings: light yandere content, power abuse, threats

Thank you so much for the compliment, dear anon! I went soft with the monster idea that I just made the reader into a werewolf...hope it is still good! I was torn between Kiri and Best Jeanist! I really like Best Jeanist, I wish he got some more screen time ... Maybe I’ll do another one for the shark boy later.

Some groundwork:

When your quirk manifested at four years old, you were not surprised: you come from a family of Mutant quirks, after all.

Your quirk, wolf, means you can transform into a wolf anytime. The longevity is unknown to you since you barely use it. Even in your normal human form, you still have wolf ears and tail. You also have a sensitive nose, just like canines. You (hair color) fluffy fur is the same color as your hair. In acient times, before quirks become a thing, you would be seen as a werewolf.

While transformed, it is hard to supress the wolf’s wild instincts, the desire to hunt, to kill and consume raw meat (extremely difficult if you are hungry). You hate it, being like a beast instead of human. You had outbursts in the past that nearly killed one of your friends. There fore you stay in human at all times.

So most of the time, you just kept a muzzle near you, just in case you would lose yourself to the beast again.

You always feel this...strange sense of difference between you and normal people, so all of your friends have mutant quirks. You kept your social circle small, only letting those who are deemed trustworthy close to you (you told them to run if they see any signs of you getting wild)

You always had a soft spot for animals, therefore you decided to work in a pet shop. Dogs especially loves you, maybe because your canine quirk. Cats not so much, as they had left quite a few marks on you when you just started.

Now you are the assistant manager, the salary is decent, so you do not look for anything more. You never thought of having a romantic relationship because you do not trust yourself: you do not want to hurt the person you love. So even if you had crushes you just kept those feelings hidden until they went away.

Best Jeanist/Tsunagu Hakamada

Did you know his favorite animal is wolf? Therefore he is a furry

Being the No.4 pro hero means taking on lots of stress, so Tsunagu decides to have an animal friend at home who he can talk to freely, without worrying leaking information (I mean how can animals pass on information).

He went into the nearest pet shop, hoping to find a furry companion, preferably dogs.

What he did not expect is to find you there, with those literal puppy eyes and fluffy ears sticking out of your hair, tending to the puppies.

Tsunagu met people with similar quirks before, and he finds them aesthetically pleasing. But seeing you with a litter of adorable puppies, laughing and petting them? He felt like his heart just melted.

“Hello sir. How may I help you today?” You put on your usual smile. Tsunagu is wearing his civilian clothes, so he is just another customer to you. A fashionable one, though. You took notice at his stylish blonde hair.

Tsunagu would ask you about all the options for adopting a puppy. However he is only half-listening: he is drawn to how your ears twitch towards any abnormal sounds...

“Oh, my ears? Sorry if they are distracting. It’s part of my quirk.”

Would get you to talk to him as much as possible, with lots of polite questions.

When you bid him good day as he walks out the door, holding a poodle puppy with its supplies, Tsunagu is determined to see you more.

You are warm, like a ray of sunlight in this stormy world. Having worked as a pro hero for so long, dealing with many negative things so often, make him attracted to positive people. Those furry wolf ears and tail only added to his admiration.

Whenever Best Jeanist is not needed at his agency, Tsunagu Hakamada would find excuses to drop by your shop. Whether it be buying new accessories for his puppy or simply need some advice on her, he would find a way to talk to you, to hear your voice.

Until he become acquainted with you enough, Tsunagu finally asked for you name.

“I’m (y/n), and you, sir?” “Tsunagu. Tusnagu Hakamada.”

Never have once you associated your friendly customer with the No.4 Pro hero of Japan. Tsunagu is charismatic and talkative (at least to you), never putting on airs like Endeavor. Since he wears a mask, the public does not have a good idea what he looks like.

Then you noticed those small gestures, how Tsunagu’s hands would “unintentionally” brush against yours when you hand over his paid items, how his body would lean in slightly towards you whenever you are talking. Or how his lips would curl upwards whenever your tails wags with excitement. You also seen him way more frequently compare to average customers.

“He got a crush on you.” One of you co workers, teases after Tsunagu left the store.

“No he doesn’t.” You blush, although considering her hypothesis.

You seen some of his clothes in fashion magazines, one of them costs more then your monthly salary. Tsunagu is clearly a rich man, a fashion designer perhaps.

“Ms.(y/n), sorry if this sounds intrusive, but do you have a lover?”

That was...unexpected. “No, I do not. Why did you ask, Mr. Hakamata?”

That saves him trouble. Best Jeanist has got this flawless reputation for years, he prefers not to taint it. But if he must, Tsunagu would not hesitate. You belong with him, and him only. “Well, it’s possible such a beautiful lady like you already has a significant other.”

“Mr. Hakamata...I-” You were not sure to blush or to smile. Now it is clear to you: This blonde is interested in you. However you do not know what to respond.

“Call me Tsunagu, please.”

The next day you would find a lily bouquet wrapped in denim on the store counter?! Who use that as a bouquet wrapper? Flatter as you are, you still find this unsettling. He did not show up for the rest of the day, which gives you time to think.

Tsunagu is handsome and kind. He seems like a perfect choice, but you wonder what he would say if he saw you as a bloodthirsty wolf, feral and hungry for killing.

You decide to turn him down, not wanting to give him false hope.

Some minor villain is causing trouble in the streets when you were walking home. You were just going to sprint away at first, but in the corner of your eye you saw a mother with her toddler daughter being corner by the villain. The way the mother tries to protect her child triggered something in you. You have to do something!

“Grr!!!” Suddenly a piece of flesh is ripped off the villain’s leg. The villain screams in pain, but you dodged every last one of his attacks while leaving deep bite marks on him. Soon the sidewalk is stained crimson with blood. You know the two had already gotten away, you should stop now. But the wolf instincts got the better of you. You crave blood, lots of it. The growing pool under you is not enough.

You heard police sirens, someone yelling for you to stop, but the wolf is not willing to. It seems it would not be satiated unless this villain dies a brutal death.

Streams of fibers wrapped around you, restraining you until you cannot move anymore.

When you regained consciousness, you were in a clean jail cell, still in your wolf form. You assumed that you are being confined in a hero agency since you just lost control.

The door cracked. It is Tsunagu! What is he doing here? And why is he wearing a jean mask?

Then you saw the rest of his outfit. Demin jeans suit from head to toe, the...the No.4?

He is Best Jeanist? What is happening now?

Tsunagu wanted to take things slow, he wanted to date you normally, letting you know everything about him, but this seems like too good of an oppertunity to pass up.

“(y/n), can you understand me?” He crouches down with a concerned look on his face.

You nod. You are not able to speak human languages while in wolf form, another draw back.

“Do your clothes come back when you transform? Or do you need some clothes?”

You left your clothes behind a dumpster before, so you just shook your head. If you were to transform now, it could be quite embarrassing.

Handing you a denim dress, Best Jeanist leaves to give you some privacy to change.

After you are dressed and back in human form, he took you to his office.

“I know you must have lots of question right now, but please allow me to explain somethings first.”

“The villain is in bad shape. You did quite a bit damage on him. His blood loss is immense; he is still in the ICU as we speak.”

Why don’t you just let him die, he’s a threat to society anyway. You ask yourself, silently.

“However, while he is a villain, you still hurt him too much. And it’s not even self-defence. You are not a hero, it’s illegal.”

You tense up. Would you face charges for this? For trying to protect other people.

“Would I go to Tartarus? For how long?”

“Oh, come now. As long as I have any say , I won’t allow that to happen.” Your eyes lit up, wanting to thank him.

“You can be my wife instead. Stay with me, and no charges would be pressed.”

What?

You know he likes you, but just asking to become his wife like that? Without dating first.

“Tsunagu, I... you...this...” He finds your stutters cute, as he traces his fingers along the edge of your wolf ears. Best Jeanist had been wanting to do that for so long, he worked so hard to restrain himself.

“Your choice. Either face court charges, or you can be with me, all is well.”

Tsunagu Hakamada is confident about his chances. An innocent, adorable civilian like you will not last long even in the most outer cells of Tartarus.

Tears slides down your chin as you give a reclutant reply. “I’ll...be with you.”

Who could have thought Tsunagu would do such a thing? He is always so nice and friendly. But now here he is, threatening you with this crime?

“Perfect.” Snapping a denim collar around your neck, he lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him. “I can’t wait to get you home; you would be such a lovely little wolf. My little wolf.”

“Should you ever try to leave me, I’m sure Tartarus is always avaliable.”

#yandere bnha #bnha #bhna best jeanist #yandere best jeanist #bnha reader insert #best jeanist

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kpop-zone · 4 years

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I’ll Always Find You | Jennie

Genre: Vampire AU

Wordcount: 3,163

Request: you’re a vampire and your girlfriend is the leader of the coven, old, regal and powerful. You’ve been feeling out of sorts lately and afraid you’ll lost control. So you made her promise to kill you if it happened because you don’t want to cause any trouble. And here comes the angst: you lost control. Will your gf keep her promise?

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were bloodred with little veins surrounding them, making you look like the monster you were. From the beginning you had trouble adjusting to the life as a vampire. You had already been very impulsive as a human, but with your new gained abilities and sharpened senses that impulsiveness had developed to something life-threatening for everyone around you.

But then you had met Jennie. As cliché as it was, after you had been turned, you had thought that you were either doomed for a life as a serial killer or as a hermit, living in the woods. You were struggling, wandering around the city, half-dead, half-alive, because you didn’t want to accept your fate. Your stubbornness almost forced you to your knees. That was until you crossed paths with the most ethereal creature on earth. Jennie.

She had found you while you were fighting the urge to rip open the throat of an innocent pedestrian. As soon as you had seen her, you were mesmerized. Everything about her screamed superiority and power. Nevertheless, she hadn’t ended your lowly life back then. She had actually felt pity and decided to take you in.

You had learned that she was the leader of the oldest coven in the city. Because despite your original believe, vampires didn’t only have to be serial killers or hermits. They had a third choice: hide in plain sight as part of society.

Her coven owned a huge building in the middle of the city and consisted of around 20 vampires. Some of them were living a completely normal life and even had a job, while others decided to spend the majority of their live in the shelter of their four walls. They were like a big family and when you first entered their home, they treated you with suspicion. But because you were under the personal protection of their leader, no one dared to touch you.

From that moment on, your new life began. You became a part of a new family while learning to control your thirst. And in the process, you also found love. Jennie hadn’t left your side during your journey. Therefore, she had won your trust and your heart in no time. She had been an immense help, but soon you found that her affection went beyond that of a leader. For some inexplainable reason she had fallen for you too. It took a while, till the two of you admitted your feelings. But eventually neither of you could deny it anymore and you officially became a couple.

The two of you had a better love story than anyone else ever had and you became the rulers of the city. Together you took care of your family while keeping the other covens of the city in check and covering up any traces that could lead the humans to your secret.

Of course, you had planned your life to go differently. You had never wanted to be a vampire. But now, you didn’t want it any other way. You were meant to be with Jennie. Therefore, you were grateful that you had been turned, because otherwise you could have never been found by the love of your life.

For 10 years your life continued to proceed almost smoothly. Of course, you were at no point in your life the most trustworthy vampire on this planet because of your impulsiveness. But Jennie had given you a lot of useful tips on how to control yourself and you had gotten a lot more careful. Therefore, you were allowed to move freely around the city.

But then something changed.

From one day to the other, you started feeling more and more out of control. You were tensed up all the time and felt an insatiable thirst sometimes out of the blue, leading to moments like this. You were standing in the public bathroom of a mall right now, trying to get your thirst under control again, while your vampire form was clearly showing. Some innocent person could walk in every second now and you didn’t know if you would be able to hold back. Panicked you tried to gain back your composure.

Fortunately, no one came in though and after staring at yourself in the mirror for another couple of minutes while doing the breathing exercise that Jennie had taught you, you were feeling like yourself again. But you knew that it had been a close call this time. You had almost lost control.

It was time to talk to your leader and girlfriend. She needed to know what was going on with you lately.

But because you dreaded the conversation, you wandered around the secluded areas of the city until it started to get dark and you knew that your girlfriend would start worrying about you. Therefore, you slowly walked back to the busy streets again until you stood in front of the old, mysterious building that you called your home. As you entered the house, you immediately ran into Chaeyoung, one of your most trusted friends.

“Finally, Y/N. Jennie’s worried sick about you.”

She said with a concerned look on her face and you tried to muster a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just forgot the time. It won’t happen again.”

You lied, quickly patting her shoulder before rushing upstairs.

Jennie had already heard you entering the house, so as soon as you opened the door to your apartment, she was waiting for you with her arms crossed.

“Where have you been?”

She asked with a stern look and you gulped thickly.

Despite dating her and knowing that she wasn’t even half as cold as others always drew her out to be, you were still aware of the fact that she could end our existence without even having to put any effort into the act. She was much older than you and therefore, much stronger.

“I was shopping in the mall.”

You replied nervously and Jennie narrowed her eyes at you.

“Then where are your bags?”

She continued her interrogation, probably already knowing that you weren’t telling the truth.

Nervously you started fidgeting with your fingers, because you didn’t know how to tell Jennie that you were spinning out of control lately. You wanted to be honest, but it wasn’t so easy, because she was also your leader and had responsibility for a whole coven. You were searching for the right words to start your confession when you suddenly felt cold air hitting your skin. When you looked up, Jennie was standing right in front of you and her stern expression was exchanged by a soft one.

“Are you hungry?”

She smiled while already grabbing your hand and gently pulling you into the kitchen. She could truly read you better than anyone else.

You exhaled in relief and sat down at the counter while Jennie put the content of a blood bag into two wine glasses, causing you to chuckle. It was still funny to you how Jennie tried to remain classy and refused to drink out of a bag.

“What? We are no savages after all.”

She joked and you shook your head. You were grateful that she tried to make this conversation easier for you.

Together you cuddled up on the couch and you rested your head on your girlfriend’s chest. You knew that Jennie was still demanding an explanation from you. She had just wanted to give you more time to sort your thoughts. Therefore, you inhaled deeply before coming out with the truth.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

You started and Jennie’s body tensed up behind you, so you knew that she was listening to you.

“What is it?”

Jennie asked and you could hear the nervousness in her voice.

“I need you to promise me that you will do what I ask of you. There is no other way if you truly love me.”

You explained while continuing to avoid Jennie’s gaze.

“Of course, I love you. And I will comply to your wishes.”

She answered a little hesitantly, but you knew that you could trust her word.

“I’m feeling a little out of it lately. I am unpredictable. And I need you to promise me that you will punish me like anyone else if I should lose control.”

Jennie’s breath suddenly hitched in her throat, and you knew that it was because of your wish. The common punishment for vampires in this coven that lost control, was to kill them.

Finally, you turned your head to be able to look at your girlfriend.

“I need you to promise me, Jennie. If this occurs, the person you fell in love with, won’t be there anymore. And I know that I won’t be able to live with this guilt.”

You explained but Jennie kept looking at you motionlessly.

“Y/N... do you know what you’re asking of me?”

She breathed shakily and you rested your hand on her cheek to stroke it softly with your thumb.

“I know. But it’s the only right thing to do. So promise me. It’s what I want.”

You demanded another time and Jennie closed her eyes, while nodding her head slowly.

“I promise.”

She whispered hesitantly and you pressed a quick kiss on her lips.

“But this case won’t occur. We will start training again. And you just won’t leave the house on your own for a while. It’s just a phase.”

Jennie added quickly and you knew that she was scared despite always seeming like she had everything under control.

Wanting to cheer her up, you nodded, although you could almost physically feel your time running out. Therefore, you cuddled up to Jennie again, because you were aware that moments like this wouldn’t occur that often anymore.

And you would be proven to be right. With every day in the following weeks, you started to feel less and less like yourself. You started to black out occasionally and only came back to your senses after a few minutes. You were a ticking time bomb, and everyone knew it, even if Jennie pretended not to notice it. She simply didn’t want to keep her promise. And until a certain point, she could justify her hesitation by saying that you weren’t out of control yet by her definition.

But then one day, even she couldn’t ignore it anymore. You had followed her order to not leave the house without another coven member up until that point, but one day you just disappeared. Jennie didn’t hesitate to mobilize the whole coven in order to find you.

They searched several hours until Jennie finally stumbled upon you in a secluded alley. You were just leaning over the lifeless body of a poor soul that had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, sucking all life out of him. Jennie quickly ordered two of her subordinates to rip you away and to check on your victim.

Chaeyoung, the right hand of Jennie, was struggling to hold you back, but because she was older than you, she eventually managed to hold you in place. Jennie slowly made her way over to you and wiped away the blood that was dripping off your chin.

“I’m sorry about this, my love.”

She whispered before cupping your face despite you fighting her hands, indicating that you were still stuck in your bloodlust.

Her soft smile was just bringing you back to your normal self, when your head was suddenly whipped to the side and a second later everything turned black.

You didn’t remember anything following this, but when you woke up again, your throat was dry, and your head was pounding. Slowly you fought your eyes open to be able to scan your unfamiliar surroundings. This was definitely not your apartment. You were surrounded by cold stone walls and metal bars that prevented you from leaving this place. This had to be the dungeon that your coven had in the basement of your building. You looked down on yourself and could see that you were laying on an old bed that was stained with blood, making you remember what you had done.

Tears sprung to your eyes, when you remembered the fear in the eyes of the man that you had attacked. You buried your face into your hands and started to sob loudly, causing you to catch the attention of Jennie who quickly rushed to the metal bars.

“Y/N...”

She called your name and you looked at her in despair.

“Did I...kill him?”

You asked hesitantly. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer.

“No. He’s upstairs. Jisoo healed him. We will keep an eye on him for some time and then we will wipe his memory and let him go.”

Jennie informed you, making you sigh in relief.

“Everything’s fine.”

She added with an encouraging smile, but you shook your head.

“Maybe this time.”

You said with disappointment resonating in your voice.

You had tried to be strong, but your transformation had made you to a monster. The vampire venom slowly turned you ruthless and once you killed someone, you knew that there was no going back, and you couldn’t let that happen.

“You know what this means.”

You looked at Jennie while tears streamed down your face and she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her sobs.

“I’m out of control, we both know it. There isn’t any breathing exercise that could fix this. You need to protect the world from me.”

You tried to reason with Jennie, but she kept standing in front of the cage like glued to the spot.

“Jennie, you promised me.”

When she heard your words, her gaze snapped up to meet yours and she reached into her pocket to pull out the keys for the door.

Hesitantly she looked at you again, but when you nodded, she slowly turned the key in the lock and entered the cage.

You smiled at her assuring, but when your eyes scanned her body, you suddenly realized that she wasn’t only holding one but two wooden stakes in her hands.

“Jennie?”

You asked confused, but your girlfriend calmly sat down next to you.

“It’s ok, jagi.”

She tried to calm you down, but you quickly leaped to your feet, backing away from her. Suddenly it sunk in to you what Jennie was planning to do. She didn’t need two wooden stakes to kill one vampire.

“No.”

You stated determined, not wanting to be the reason for your girlfriend’s death.

Jennie, however, stayed calm. She pulled you gently back next to her and wiped away your tears.

“It’s alright, my love. I lived a long life. But I have never been happier than during the years that I was allowed to spend with you. I don’t want to be alone again.”

She explained with a soft smile playing on her lips, causing you to sob loudly. Why couldn’t you be strong enough? You could have spent eternity with Jennie by your side. There were so many things that you had wanted to explore together. The two of had planned to move to the seaside and enjoy a slow life for a while, opposing to the rush in the city. But you needed to ruin everything.

You rested your head against Jennie’s chest, and she placed her hand in your neck to pull you closer.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Our love is strong enough for five lifetimes. We will meet again, and we’ll start over; grow old together and have the life that we deserve.”

Jennie’s words made your heart flutter and ache at the same time. Quickly you pulled her into a tight embrace and let her wrap her arms around you.

“I love you, Jennie.”

You whispered into her ear in need for her to know how much she meant to you.

“I love you too.”

She responded before pulling back.

Shakily you took one of the wooden stakes and Jennie followed your move.

You looked into her eyes and she smiled encouragingly. Gently she placed her hand on your cheek and the stake against your chest. You wanted to do the same, but your arms were too weak. Therefore, Jennie let her free hand fall to yours and slowly lifted the stake to her own chest.

“Come on, Y/N. You know that I always wanted to go out with a bang. This is the perfect opportunity.”

Jennie tried to lighten the mood, but you gaze was fixed on the weapon in your hand that was bound to kill the love of your life.

“Look at me, jagi.”

Your girlfriend demanded, causing you to eventually look into her beautiful eyes.

Jennie seemed to be calmer than ever, and her aura passed over to you.

“On a count of three, ok?”

She ordered and you nodded hesitantly.

“Ok. 1...”

Your gaze flickered to the stake once again and panic filled your body. You couldn’t kill an innocent person, could you?

“2...”

Jennie continued her countdown and you looked into her eyes again. You remembered how hard this had to be for her. She had wandered this earth for centuries on her own. Eventually, she had found a family, but nevertheless, her heart always ached for more. And then she finally stumbled upon you. The one that she called her soulmate. But now you were forcing her to take your life.

Would you want to stay behind if Jennie asked you the same?

Of course, you wouldn’t. You loved Jennie more than anything and you knew that she felt the same about you. She had told you several times during the time that you were allowed to spend together.

One day when the two of you were watching the sunset from the rooftop of your house, she had even told you that she was convinced that the universe had only made her immortal, so that she could meet you. You had laughed at her back then, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. Nothing had ever felt so right in your life than this love. So wasn’t it more cruel to let Jennie roam this earth alone again? She was merciful enough to end your torture, so who were you to leave her behind to make hers begin. Therefore, you took a deep breath and nodded to Jennie.

“3”

At the end of her countdown, you closed your eyes and pushed the wooden stake as harshly as possible despite the resistance, while you felt pain filling your own body.

When you opened your eyes again, you could see that Jennie’s skin slowly started to turn ash grey. Nevertheless, she looked peaceful, almost relieved and you knew that you had made the right decision. The world started to fade around you until Jennie’s weak smile was the only thing, you could see anymore.

“I’ll find you again.”

Were the last words you heard before your last breath left your lips.

#blackpink scenario #blackpink #jennie scenario #jennie #jennie imagine #girl group imagine #girl group scenario #girl group #kpop scenario #kpop

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lucyoftheabyss48 · 4 years

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Thoughts on Promare Part 2: The Meaning of the Promare

Read part one: a Galolio relationship analysis--> here.

So I got to thinking, what exactly are the Promare? How do they choose who to dwell in? Why was Lio so much stronger than all the other Burnish? On that matter, how was Kray so strong too? And how does Galo fit in with these two? After thinking about these things, I’ve come to a few conclusions:

1) Kray and Lio are not all that different from each other. Neither of them intended to be villains, they were just at the mercy of their emotions and circumstances.

2) Because of this, Galo wanted to save them both. Galo ended up representing hope for them.

3) A gap or emptiness along with a strong emotion is essential for the Promare to manifest within a person. The Promare fill in the emptiness that the Burnish feel. This will be evidenced by Kray, Lio, and Galo.

Kray’s Fear

Let’s start with Kray. As far as we know from the movie, Kray was an undergrad scientist working with the scientist Deus Prometh when he first became a Burnish. He was young, he had a future, he had his whole life to look forward to. He still had to find his purpose in life. But the second he became a Burnish, it was all taken away from him. He lost everything, with no hope of return.

He was terrified of that. So he used Galo, an innocent child who just happened to get caught in his flames, used him as a stepping stone to become a hero, and eventually leader of Promepolis. He secured his safe future, by becoming someone valuable and worthy to society. He found his place in the world.

But that wasn’t enough to dispel his fear. He was still a Burnish. Resisting the urge to burn took everything he had. The mere existence of the Burnish was a constant reminder of who he really was, the self that he tried so hard to extinguish. The Burnish were monsters, harmful to society, enemy of mankind. But he was one of them. The humans would never accept them — never accept him. To quell his fears, he planned a mass genocide of the Burnish and a migration to a new world with his carefully selected pawns. No one would ever find out he was a Burnish.

No one would ever take away his place.

He would never have to be scared again.

This intense fear is the fuel driving Kray’s every action. He was young and lost and didn’t know what to do with his life. He didn’t know if he would ever amount to anything, but at least he had hope that he could.

The Promare’s foremost desire is “to burn.” And for them, this is synonymous with: “to live.”

Kray was alive, but he wasn’t truly living. He was existing in that gap of the uncertainty of his place and his worth. Combined with his fear of never finding his place, this emptiness and this fear shackled him. It imprisoned him, but he desired to be free. The Promare fed on that, and told him to burn. They told him to live.

As a result, they had killed his hope.

That’s why Kray hates Galo so much. Galo is fair and unprejudiced, willing to believe that Burnish are not all bad, that there are good people among them. He can change his beliefs should he learn new information, and he truly believes that people are strong and good inherently. Including the Burnish.

But Kray hates the Burnish. He hates that he’s one of them. Burnish can never live together with humanity in peace. He thinks that the only choice is to kill them all, so he can hide among the humans in safety and security.

Yet here is Galo, who firmly believes that humans and Burnish can coexist.

Galo, who believes Burnish aren’t all bad, is the one human who could possibly accept Kray’s true self. Galo rekindled his hope, when he had tried all this time to become someone different and quash it. Kray couldn’t stand that, and couldn’t stand Galo, and that’s why he wanted him to die.

Lio’s Wish

We don’t know exactly when or how he became a Burnish, but we do know how he ended up becoming leader of the Mad Burnish, from the Lio-Hen. He knew the Burnish could never coexist with humans. But attacking thoughtlessly would only make life for the Burnish more difficult, as the humans would crackdown on them more should they kill anyone. So he decided that the Burnish would never kill, and just peacefully extract themselves from human society to create a place of their own.

Lio wished that he and the Burnish could just be accepted. He wished that they could live together in peace. He wished that they could have a place in society. But as a Burnish, and as their leader, he didn’t have that. He never could. This was his emptiness.

But the Promare within him told him to burn, told him to live. He couldn’t resist that urge. He knew no Burnish ever could. So he gave up on finding his place in human society, on peaceful coexistence, and chose to lead everyone to creating their own self-sufficient one, away from humans. He wanted to protect them.

Being a Burnish meant Lio gave up hope on finding a place to belong together with humans. He found a new one with his fellow Burnish and with the Promare within himself. But he, like Kray, firmly and strongly believed that Burnish had no place in current human society.

And as we know well, Galo doesn’t think so. Galo stands for hope, for both Lio and Kray when they had given up. He was hope for the future, hope for coexistence, and hope for finding “the place that [they] lost.” He made the two of them believe again that they weren’t monsters, they weren’t outcasts meant to be isolated. They had worth, as people. They were just as human as anyone, and they deserved a place to belong.

They deserved to live.

Galo’s Hope

Lastly, we have Galo. Galo was everything a Burnish could be, without actually being one of them. He is, in a word, fiery. He is hot headed and he can be brash, and he isn’t restricted in the slightest. He lives as he wants to live: with a blazing firefighter’s soul.

He doesn’t need the Promare to burn. He burns all on his own.

And that’s because he had a goal and someone to look up to. Someone he didn’t want to disappoint. Someone he wanted to be like. He did everything with Kray in mind.

But let’s think about this a little deeper. He was just a kid when his house burned down and his family died. He was a nobody, until Kray “saved” him. Then Kray brought him up, encouraged him to become a firefighter, supported him in his every endeavor. And in turn, Kray became a hero and the city governor. Kray became someone important, someone special, because of Galo.

Kray became a hero because of a nobody like Galo, then continued to give him nothing but support and guidance, but also without giving him special treatment. By all appearances, Kray had seemingly unshakeable belief in him.

You can imagine, how important of an existence Kray was to Galo, because Kray had told him he was somebody, when all he had ever believed was that he was nobody.

You can also imagine then, how hurt and betrayed Galo must have been to find out the truth about Kray. This betrayal formed, or rather, revived Galo’s emptiness.

But Lio’s flame filled that gap. Lio’s flame, that didn’t want to hurt anyone, was a flame that wished to protect people. Everything Galo knew had been a lie, but Lio and his flame reminded Galo of the one belief of his that would never go out.

That he was a firefighter meant to save people. That he was somebody meant to bring hope to everyone. And most importantly, that Galo was somebody who could.

That’s why when he punched Kray down after freeing Lio from the engine’s core, he said to Kray, “I’ll save Lio, this world, and you.” That’s why his weapon is a Matoi, meant to be a beacon in the smoke for others to run toward in safety. He is hope, for survival from the flames. He is hope, for life. So when Lio passed the Promare onto him to protect him, Galo burned — not for self-preservation, but to live. He and Lio passed that on to everyone: to Kray, to the world, and to the Promare. He accepted everyone’s wish to burn.

The Meaning of the Promare

The Promare’s foremost desire is to burn, because they are trapped within the earth’s core. They feed on an emptiness, a feeling of incompleteness, that the Burnish provide. Both the Burnish and the Promare only wish to live in freedom. By existing symbiotically, they can burn more freely than they could have on their own. The Promare allowed them to live.

That’s why when Lio tried to save the dying Thyma, or when Galo saved Lio with the Burnish CPR, they pass the Promare from one person to the other. They pass the fire, the torch, to the next person, with the express purpose of having them live.

Kray was hiding the truth about the Promare and the fact that he was a Burnish. Lio was gathering his people to hide them away from the humans in an isolated community. They were both hiding things, and fighting on their own, which forced them to be on such opposing extremes. As the two strongest Burnish, and leaders of their own peoples, Kray and Lio both understood each other in a way no one else did.

And by living in hiding, they had given up on being accepted.

But then Galo came along and told them, “It’s okay to be Burnish. It’s okay to be different.”

Promare is all about accepting our own unique traits, and not giving up on asking for acceptance too. Because if we do, then we aren’t truly living. And I think that’s just one of many great messages this movie is sending.

#promare #galo thymos #lio fotia #kray foresight #promare analysis #anime analysis

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thecleverdame · 5 years

Text

Gods of Twilight - Teaser - Chapter One

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking

Beta: ilikaicalie

Add yourself to the tags list here

*Chapters 1-23 are currently available on Patreon. This story will be completed on Patreon before it’s continued on Tumblr. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

You’re a queen now, so one would think you’d be in a better mood.

You sit stoically next to your new husband at the head of an incredibly long dining table in the Great Hall. The hall is aptly named, it’s ornate with beautiful slate floors and vaulted ceilings. Above there’s a heavenly host of glowing lights; hundreds of candles burning bright in chandeliers hoisted up to the rafters. You try to concentrate on the room, focus on the details of your new surroundings. There’s abounding beauty in this kingdom, at least from what little you’ve seen since your arrival twenty-four hours ago.

Lebanon, The Land of the Wolves as many call it, is ten times of the size of the small country of Avalon that your father rules over. You grew up in a country castle, surrounded by meadows and forests. A far contrast to the city outside these walls. Avalon wouldn’t be remarkable at all if it wasn’t for the unending reserve of Cuthert steel, the strongest metal in existence. It’s also the reason you’re here. This marriage ensures your father will never sell Cuthert to any of Lebanon's enemies. Sam gets a wife and insurance, while your father will reap the benefits of having such a powerful ally.

You are a bartering chip in a world of powerful men.

You glance at your father, who’s several guests down the table, doing his best to look pleased. Neither of you is thrilled with this arrangement, but you are his only daughter and he needs this alliance with the Kingdom of Lebanon.

Father has told you time and time again that if he could go back he’d raise you differently, he’d raise you like the lady your position requires instead of being thrown in with your brothers to fight in the mud. By the time he realized you were rejecting the constraints of aristocratic society you were nearly sixteen. Overnight his little girl went from being free to run through the fields to being fitted for dresses and hosting foreign guests. Over the years you’ve learned to play the part, to subdue the wild side. But you would prefer to ride and run and hike.

Your mother is smiling freely, no doubt a result of too much wine. She’s never approved of your unrestrained impulses and has been thrilled at the idea of marrying you off. If it weren’t for your father you’d have been matched up and shipped off years ago.

“Samuel is a good man,” your father whispered into your ear as he held you tight, moments before the ceremony. Perhaps he is but that’s not what the townspeople say. “I hope you can be happy here.”

“As do I.” You took a deep breath and tightened your grip. For the first time in your life, you were scared. Truly frightened. Having lived a charmed life, you’d had little occasion for fear. Being a princess the only people who challenged you were your father and your brothers, you were too stubborn for even your mother to try to control. Now you’ll be expected to bow to the desires of your husband, a man you barely know.

As you pulled away from the only man you’ve ever obeyed, you shifted in your wedding gown.

“He is a good man,” he repeated, cupping your face in his hands. In that moment it became crystal clear that he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “And you will be a queen now. That’s a responsibility not to be taken lightly.”

He kissed your cheek and turned on his heels walking away before you had a chance to respond.

You’ve heard stories of the prince turned king your whole life.

The Great King John’s sons are known through many kingdoms.

Sam is the dark one, the one people whisper about. King John sent his sons to battle in the East Lands just after Sam came of age. Almost immediately the youngest prince went missing and was assumed dead. Lebanon mourned and the battle raged on. Months became years and then one day word reached King John that his youngest son was indeed alive. And, as the story goes, the man that came back those years later was not the same Winchester that left.

Within 2 years of Sam’s return, his father died, then his mother. And Sam’s brother Dean, the natural heir, refused the throne. No one pretends to know why, it’s just another layer to the Winchester mystery.

Depending on who you’re talking to Sam is a sadistic, brute of a man who has an insatiable taste for killing. In some stories, he’s a wild monster that transforms into a creature of the night and flies with the moon in search of children to devour.

Your handmaidens are the ones who told you of his reputation with women. The few rumors they recounted made your blood run cold. They murmured about women who spent a night with him and were never heard from again, their screams the last thing anyone ever heard.

Sam greets his many guests, a line of men congratulating him one by one. Some offer gifts, stacking heavy boxes at his feet. Others simply tell him of the many presents that await him, a parcel of land, a dozen goats. They chuckle and clink glasses and all have something to say about you. Mostly it’s acknowledgments of your beauty followed by an elbow to his ribs.

He seems to be amicable. Most of the men in the room are members of his personal guard or hunting companions, all of whom seem to genuinely have affection for your new husband and he for them.

If nothing else he’s handsome. You didn’t know what to expect but you couldn’t quell the relief you felt when you saw him in person the first time. Of all the men you could have been paired with, he doesn’t seem to be a bad option, so far.

He’s barely spoken a word to you since the ceremony, in fact, you get the distinct feeling the night could continue on just the same without you.

“Do need anything wife?” His words rip you from your thoughts, and you look at Sam as he leans closer. He’s an impressive specimen of a man, there no denying his pleasant face and large build. It could be much worse, several years ago your mother attempted to pair you up with a suitor three times your age who was nearly as tall as he was round and had a violent temper.

“I have everything I need.” You smile, raising your wine to him.

“Good.” He nods, looking at you expressionless. “Do you wish to stay for the celebration?”

He’s asking if you’re ready for your wedding night, giving you a choice.

“I defer to your preference,” you reply, trying to keep your cool

“Let’s hope you’re always this agreeable,” he mutters, sitting back in his chair, turning to his brother on his opposite side.

Tags: @smallgirlbigpersonality @mereka18 @gryffindorable713 @trainlikeawinchester @winchesterprincessbride @bamby0304 @saxxxology @notyourtypicalrose @mariekoukie6661 @little-big-mac2 @emoryhemsworth @mystriee @atc74 @holyfuckloueh @bunnybaby121115 @mogaruke @darkmystress00 @jaspesangriento @kazuha159 @mirandaaustin93 @crispychrissy @schilj79 @wilde-abandon @hennessy0274-blog @bojabee @miss-samantha-winchester @impalaimagining @andkatiethings @astephez @ladycynthia @mrswhozeewhatsis @lenawiinchester @feelmyroarrrr @mrs-meghan-winchester @har-rystyles @mistressofallthingsgeeky @theamuz @maui137 @stars-and-seas @vale0413 @impala67trenchcoat @curly-haired-disaster @ericaprice2008 @livelikeawinchester @althehufflepuff @itsthesamegametoday @bohowitch @spnwoman @just-a-normal-eccentric @gallifreyansass @StoneyGGirl @lonely-skys @81mysteriouslyme @missrandomista @soupornatural @stars-and-seas @natura1phenomenon @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @81mysteriouslyme @likhelbentin @mrooks0205 @zombiewerewolfqueen @winchesterprincessbride @squirrel-moose-winchester @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @closetspngirl @dominodoll @rainflowermoon @cleighwrites @camelotandastronauts @imarockstar45 @thebeastinside19 @courtney-padalecki @itsthesamegametoday @virtualgirlfriendsan @daisymoder72 @fandom-is-my-middle-name @mysticmcu @luciferseclipse @malinda1997 @sunlight-dean @rockhoochie @collette04 @sandlee44 @ohnowin-chester @maddiepants @fandom-princess-forevermore @geeksareunique @femdeni314 @lazinessisalliknow @samwinchesterssexyface @the-yellow-girl96 @that67chevy @that-weird-asian-gorl @lmitchell78 @snffbeebee @sandlee44 @fandom-is-my-middle-name @calaofnoldor @prettyinplaid94 @squirrelnotsam @spnwoman @luciferseclipse @daddys-littlewhitegirl @fanfictionjunkie1112

Story Tags:

@nerdykity @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @ladycynthia @notyourtypicalrose @moosekateer13 @fashiondiva88 @wayward-tiger-lily26 @collette04 @fuumei @cas-sauntered-vaguely-downwards @xxqueenofdemonsxx @glitterydragonloveralien @caryswhogoesbothways @some-stupid-geek @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @keithseabrook27 @erinkellyxxx @fallen-wolf22 @andreiaafaria @hesvoid34 @blackrockshooter78 @foulsoulcollectionsstuff @babypink224221 @queenofhell @lazykittenstudent @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @shlynnofdoom @Kristenrosesweets @ximena-winchester @squirrel-moose-winchester @gavemylifetotomholland @mysticmcu @simonastoyanova @jaxyboy246 @jaxyboy246 @stonetothebone4 @the-yellow-girl96 @angelwings-and-brokenthings @eomaitland @noworries418 @voltage-my2dlove @randomgirlkensy @supermoose67 @a-study-in-melapples @a-study-in-melapples @impaladreamin @siriuslycosmoetic @babypink224221 @guesswhosback129 @hazzahleah10 @lazykittenstudent @sleepylunarwolf @thereisnolumos @madformichael

#Gods of Twilight #Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader #Alpha!werewolf!Sam #series

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thefloatingstone · 5 years

Note

The whole “they’re just evil” is ableist too though. It’s basically saying well, we thought they were mentally ill, but no, they’re just evil. Similar to how people will say “you’re not depressed, you’re just lazy.” And the whole “evil child” trope can be dangerous. Some child abusers “justify” their actions by framing their neurodivergent (mentally ill, mentally disabled, autistic, etc) child as being evil or unnatural. “creepy” behaviours in movies are common in ppl that are neurodivergent.1/2

I think what it comes down to is that the horror genre is about intent in its subject matter.

The reason I like horror is because when horror is done well, it represents very clearly the fears and paranoias of the era the movie was made in.

Early horror movies (before the hayes code) had a LOT of subtext where the big fear usually was caught up in sex in some way or another. And not in an exploitative way. Movies like Cat People and Dr. Jekyl and Mrs Hyde are to do with young people who are engaged and, because it’s the 30s, are not sexually active with each other yet, but they WANT to be. And a lot of early horror has to do with sexual repression.

And then you have zombie movies which came into their own after Night of the Living Dead in 1969 and became a genre in the 70s. Zombie movies being a cultural fear of losing control of yourself and getting assimilated into a group which is slowly devouring your way of life. This can be a metaphor for immigrants, other religions, a change in social climate and old societal structures no longer being embraced by the younger generation (Zombie movies became super popular in the 70s, after the Vietnam war which was extremely protested by the younger generation, as well as racial tensions in the US rising as African Americans were coming more freely in society following the abolishment of America’s segregation in the 60s)

But some horror movies deal with fears which are universal and not contained in one one era. The fear of death is a big one but rather vague in of itself. And when framed in a movie can be rather shallow (like a slasher movie) or very deep and complex (like Jacob’s ladder or Masque of the Red Death). Other universal fears are things like war, home invasion by a criminal, being hunted (either by an animal or another human), the unknown (this often taking the form of “evil” in terms of ghosts and demons and possession etc etc), one’s own body succumbing to disease (which is where body horror comes from) and the loss of control of oneself (this is where mind control and possession and other dehumanising tropes are used, although these can cross over into the trope of cultural tension. The Invasion of the Body Snatchers is all about loved ones being replaced with unknown enemy creatures and was made (twice) during the US’ cold war with Russia)

One of the great universal fears is the concept of not being in control of one’s own mind. It doesn’t matter if you’re neurotypical or have a form of mental illness, the core concept of losing yourself to your own mind is a horrific one (and I mean this in terms of the concept, not the reality) so I feel horror movies that deal with this trope WELL, understand how to channel that fear into an effective story that resonates with its audience, regardless of who they are. However, this is VERY different than the much easier and lazier method of just claiming a bad guy is “crazy”. Because the neurotypical audience will still nod and go “yes it is very scary to think of people being crazy like that or even of myself losing my mind. That is a scary thought.” but it does NOT use the trope with the complexity and depth it needs to properly express that dark fear.

The other great fear, and one used FAR less frequently in horror movies simply because it is disturbing, is the innate fear parents have that a baby who they wish to love could have “something wrong with it.” not out of stigmatism, but because (most often) parents wish for the best for their children, and the concept of a child having a problem the parents can’t fix is terrifying. This is where movies like Eraserhead come from, however it also ties into the fear of mental illness.

There is also the thing that having mental illness within the bad guy character gives to horror but which is not only reserved for mental illness, and this is where the “evil” explanation comes from; and that is the horror that comes from the idea that a bad person is not someone you can recognise in the street as a threat. That you cannot see someone and immediately go “oh well they have horns so I KNOW they’re dangerous!” but that threat and danger and harm can hide in the nicest, kindest, most ordinary looking people. In modern times we now know you don’t need mental illness to be a threat and look normal, but I feel this is why mental illness is often used.

This brand of horror is also very important because it asks the audience “what is the difference between the person in the movie doing terrible things, and you, the audience member, who probably assumes themselves to be a good person?” Mental illness is a good answer to this because it gives the audience the uncomfortable thought of “if I had the same mental struggles, would I be doing terrible things like this too? What makes me “a good person”? Am I any different than the bad guy at all?”

Horror is a good genre because it shines a light on fears and insecurities and paranoias of human beings. Either culturally, or psychologically. And I feel the problem is that so often complex ideas and reasons BEHIND the horror is lazily boiled down to “oh well they were just crazy. That’s all.” which makes the audience not have to worry about it because “oh of course. They’re just crazy. Not like me. I’m not crazy at all.”

But this is…. this is bad writing :/ and as the previous post said (if you are the same anon) it is the using of the trope in a lazy way which reinforces itself as harmful. And you often see this in cheap horror movies who are NOT trying to say something about humanity’s deep rooted fears, but just want some teenagers to scream in the theater for 90 minutes at some fake blood and a “scary bad guy”.

I agree that modern movies should not reinforce bad stereotypes of mental illness as we often see in badly written lazy horror films, but I don’t think it’s a topic that should be untoucheable in terms of story telling. Because I feel then we deny a huge part of the human psychology.

hmmm…. how do I put this…..

Ok maybe this’ll make more sense.

Silent Hill 2 is a game where the entire subtext and plot is about depression. Without it being a plot point in any way, the game feels like it is trying to EXPRESS depression. And it expresses depression in the form of horror visuals both in terms of monsters and scenery. Depression is never mentioned and nobody talks about the symptoms of depression (not counting Angela’s suicidal thoughts but that’s not really the point here). Silent Hill 2 is a story about depression and fatal illness and suicidal thoughts. It is a game about the horror of those feelings… And you could even easily say the game even features a character with depression who is a murderer… but the game is not presenting depression as an “explanation”. But it is a game ABOUT depression. Through its visuals, sound design, atmosphere, music, it all builds together to present itself AS depression.

And I feel we need stories like that. It presents mental illness in a horrific light… but it’s… it’s different, you know? And I feel having the ability to tell horror stories about mental illness is important because then we can have stories like Silent Hill 2, which in a weird way becomes comforting if you’ve ever experienced depression. It’s like you go back to Silent Hill 2 when you’re in a depressive state and you just feel…. a little better? like “yes…. this is the emotion I am feeling. This is what it’s like. Somebdy else understands it, and this story resonates with me. And I am not alone.”

I know that is a completely different thing than what we were talking about regarding “bad guy characters in a horror movie have mental illness” but I feel it’s an important point…. because Silent Hill 2 is literally about a guy who killed someone and has a mental illness…. the difference is he’s not framed as a bad guy, but as sympathetic. WITHOUT condoning his actions.

And as for “evil” like “oh he’s not crazy he’s just evil”, I understand what you mean but I think of it more regarding either tied to religious beliefs which is a more personal fear and varies depending on who the person watching the movie is…. or the evil which is like…. Ted Bundy…. and I don’t really want to talk about that because it legit makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

(also Horror is AMONG my favourite genres or sub genres. But it depends on the film. But it’s a genre I legit am fascinated by, enjoy depending on the film, and have watched and read and own WAY too many books about).

A big function of horror movies is to acknowledge the fears humans carry within us, as well as the darker sides of humanity as a whole, and horror movies gives us a way to confront that, and not simply try to ignore it while it festers away in the back of our minds.

So it’s difficult because you can’t say “you can’t make a horror movie about x” because it ends up being more harmful than good…. but at the same time reinforcing stigmas that hurt oppressed groups is also something which should NOT be done.

This is why I tend to judge horror movies on a case by case basis X’D and also consider context, era, country of origin etc etc.

And it’s why I’m talking about this topic in such long posts. Because I feel it’s a complex problem.

But I fully agree we need a public ed campaign in teaching people about the context in which older horror movies were made and to understand how to be critical of their themes while still being able to be entertained by them.

….I didn’t even go into how monster movies like King Kong and Creature from the Black Lagoon are about cultural paranoias about people from different ethnicities and cultures “coming to steal our women”, and why you are seeing a lot more “monster fuckers” these days as our culture is slowly learning to be more empathetic to “those who are other”. Like…. I didn’t even go INTO that part of it.

…..I like horror u guys.

#C-Puff answers #Horror tropes #Anonymous

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beginagainbugle · 4 years

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An Essay in Response to "On Diplomacy: A Manifesto by Magneto" & the newly Ratified Accords

The Daily Bugle received this letter only a day after Secretary Ross and Agent Ross announced the new amendments to the Accords. It seems not everyone appreciates the olive branch – and money – thrown their way. But we’re an honest source of news here at the Bugle! We’d be remiss if we didn’t show you this shocking story just as we received it! – J. Jonah Jameson

First and foremost, I feel the need to start off by quoting an old friend of mine. Several weeks ago, an anonymous source delivered quite the message from him and his words were as follows:

There are those amongst us who believe that diplomacy is the answer to the conflict between mutants and humans. I regret to say that there can be no diplomacy. Diplomacy and negotiation are predicated on the very simple idea that two opposing parties have some measure of equality; that one can offer something to the other and gain something in turn. Further, both parties must have a degree of respect for the other party, something that will hold them to account for any agreement reached.

There is no equality, and there is no respect…

I ignored his speech because I know him. We never agree on anything these days and even if I hope to reason with him, nothing I say will ever change how he feels about you people. The two of us — and I mean not to sound boastful — but we have been tasked with leading a sizable amount of mutants with each group strongly believing in one idea or the other. In Magneto’s case, I refer back to the quotes above and in my case, I have always given you a lot more credit than you probably deserve. My ideals and the ideals of many who look to me as their leader, all revolve around finding a peaceful means to end the conflict that you started between those with ‘gifts’ and those without. I am the person he refers to in his point about diplomacy.

However Mr. Secretary, if I am to be completely honest, my old friend has a point. It almost pains me to agree with him on anything these days because in order to see his side of the coin, that means I must face the reality that my ideals fall on deaf ears sometimes. I had hoped it would not come to this; that I wouldn’t have to leave the shadows and safety of the school I protect in order to speak on the hypocrisy within the propaganda you keep shoving down the American people’s throats, but it would seem you have left me no choice in the matter. Let us begin…

Agent Ross starts his foray into this shameless propaganda that means to justify discrimination of mutants and those like us by offering a rather smooth, backhanded compliment ——as if he has ever been in the presence of a mutant as opposed to the heroes he/they once hailed that are the primary reason for these Accords in the first place.

“There are those among us who have incredible gifts. Dangerous gifts. A brave new world.”

Dangerous, Agent Ross? Our ‘gifts’ are incredible, but dangerous? We do not need your backhanded compliments. Call it what it is. You all think that we are something to be feared and leading your speech with such nonsense is an insult to our intelligence. Your words are but a subtle jab; a way to incite fear into average person, but I digress. There’s more, my fellow mutants.

“The secretary says that I’m ‘uniquely qualified,’ because I’ve seen it. Not because of my training or my expertise. Not because of the missions I’ve flown or the lives I’ve saved. But because I was there, when Superheroes fought. And I gotta tell you –” He laughed again. “It’s amazing.”

Just what exactly have you seen Agent Ross that uniquely qualifies you to speak on behalf of mutants? Aside from Dr. Banner ( a special case I will not dive into today ), how many mutants have you seen up close? How many have you actually met in person and conversed with in some lengthy form? How many have you seen in combat against ‘your kind’? One experience with a bunch of heroes that — at one time — could freely walk the streets without being persecuted does not make you uniquely qualified to do anything on our behalf. All the people have is your word on your experience, but who’s to say your word wasn’t fabricated for a moment such as this?

You go on to describe what you saw in Wakanda as a beautiful dance that left normal people in awe of what you were witnessing. You practically ooze saccharine as it pertains to our unique abilities but then you swing the hammer in such a way backwards that I have to wonder if my hope is wasted on the likes of you homo sapiens.

“…the dance has to end… the dancers have to come offstage, and into the audience…. We have to learn how to share that world. It needs to be safe for everyone who lives here.”

Agent Ross… Mr. Secretary, it is rare that I read something that isn’t written by Magneto and feel the need to react harshly, but this is one of those times I cannot let your unfairness go unaddressed. I will not reduce myself to inciting a war you all cannot win, but I will say this:

You claim that the ultimate goal of these Accords is so that we can all share the world and feel safe while doing it, but what you fail to understand is that we mutants have wanted this all along. Not the Accords, but the permission to live among you as regular people. We all bleed the same thing Mr. Secretary, but I cannot help but point out the hypocrisy of your words. Furthermore, who are you to tell those with gifts they were born with to ‘get off the stage’, as if this stage was one many mutants asked for. Even IF we register; take off the masks and reveal our locations to you day and night, what are we truly accomplishing here? Registering our names won’t make anyone feel any safer. All this does is allow you easy access to us. Should you decide in your next speech that the best thing for the entire world is to eliminate those pesky dancers then we are but sitting ducks — something I hope has never even crossed your mind.

Persecuting people… telling the public that we’re all dangerous mutants that need to be put in check is not how you make the world a better place. You hardly know us, Mr. Secretary. You’ve never once sat down with us nor taken the time to reach out and actually educate yourself about what you are truly dealing with.You are operating on assumptions; using your irritation at the Avengers for costing you billions of dollars by assuming all of us are exactly the same.

Not all of us are like my old friend. A vast majority of us are living every single moment alone and in fear; fear of you and the world that continues finding ways to paint us out as horrible people. Instead of trying to find common ground that does not include throwing us in holding cells for not bending to your will, you and Mr. Stark — who likely hasn’t met many mutants either — decided that we needed to be checked; never mind the fact that most of us haven’t done a single thing to deserve this treatment except exist in a world that has never taken kindly to anything different. My mutants are not suiting up everyday fighting aliens on your behalf. We’re not costing you billions or embarrassing you on national televisions with our heroics. The true embarrassment is you, Mr. Secretary.

“We made these rules for one reason, and one reason only. To prevent terrible intentions from becoming unbearable realities.”

What intentions do you speak of? Even though I do not know the Avengers well enough to speak on their behalf, I think it’s safe to assume that all they’ve ever done is use their abilities on behalf of humanity. I’ve never met Captain America but of all the Avengers, I admire him the most. Not only did he help save your sorry hides from an alien invasion, but he walked away with no bloodshed after the very people who made him turned their backs on him. If that is how you treat one of your own, I shudder to think how you would treat people like us. Speaking of us and your so-called rules…

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. —Article 14; the US Constitution

The rules of governing citizens as stated in the Constitution apply to all and we mutants have never questioned it. Many of us walk the straight and narrow; we obey the laws despite being forced to remain in the shadows due to the prejudices you keep pumping into the media. A majority of us have never broken any of the laws and on the off-chance you happen to catch an occasional rule breaker, it’s often because of something your people have done first. Left unprovoked, we go about our business. When provoked, well…

My point is that despite the clear violation of the Constitution that these Accords are in direct opposition of, we mutants carry on anyway with the hope that things will change for the better. Your latest stunt does nothing but further HIS argument — that you not only see us as monsters, but as something other than rightful citizens who are awarded the same protections by the Constitution as everyone else. Yet you extend a hand to us as if things are going to magically change with the signing of our names yet in the same breath, we are to be taken by deadly force if necessary; killed, chained or even locked away without any kind of trial if we oppose you.

And if I am mistaken and by rules you meant the Accords, then I must sincerely apologize. The rules placed in society are meant to be followed if the government and the people governed are meant to coexist peacefully. However, when the rules are unfair and unabashedly biased, the people… the citizens of that society, have a right to push back. I’ll not deny my mutants that right.

Mr. Secretary, up until now, all I’ve ever done is try from behind the scenes to see both sides of the coin. I have done nothing but train my students in the art of peaceful coexistence. Nothing good can come from fighting our own people. In the same breath, it would seem that the world I’ve been fighting for all my life seems ever more out of reach with each law you pass. It’s a shame we are all being forced to suffer on behalf of your ire with others, but shame on me for expecting more from a government who — historically — has a nasty habit of destroying the things that make them uncomfortable or feel inferior.

This new law you have passed will only incite the rage of the one who continues to be a thorn in your side. This is my final plea to see reason. At the end of the day, when you finally grow tired of ratifying papers and decide you wish to solve the issue in the same manner you have solved all of this country’s issues in the past, I will go silent. I will stand aside and let things unfold, no matter how much it may pain my heart.

TO MY FELLOW MUTANTS, my final message to you all is to survive; to use your common sense when presented with scathing propaganda like this and proceed in a manner that allows you to live with no regrets down the road. I will never fully relinquish my faith because it is my hope that someday the people in power will realize their mistakes. It’s never too late you see. However, my loyalties have always been first and foremost, to my fellow X-Men; my mutants and my family. I will NEVER encourage you to retaliate with violence, but I will understand if you see things HIS way as opposed to my own, especially now.

In closing, Mr. Secretary, I will NOT be registering under your Accords and neither will the children left under my legal guardianship. Do what you must, but heed my warnings: even the most docile of creatures will fight back when backed into a corner. I pity anyone who comes at me or my students looking to collect when we’ve done nothing wrong. When you are finally ready to accept just how wrong you are and agree to work with me on an answer that doesn’t just benefit your side, give me a call. You won’t find me or my school, but finding you — wherever you are in the world — will never be a problem for someone like me. My powers are something that should keep you and your entire staff awake every night, but is it not fortuitous that I have always been on your side?

Sincerely,

Professor X & Leader of the X-Men

#beginagainbugle #beginagaineditorial #char: charles xavier #topic: mutants #topic: accords #submission

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drferox · 6 years

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Fantasy Biology: Drider

Ah, Driders. The Underdark Drow's answer to centaurs, but with even more legs. They are humanoid (dark elf, typically) from head until approximately the waist, then consist of about 95% a completely normal gigantic spider body. Some of their artistic renditions do really make it look like a perfectly normal spider wearing half a humanoid as a hat, which is both fascinating and disturbing.

They also, in much of the lore, are blood feeders, because apparently the only way to improve a Mc Frickin' spider centaur is to make it a vampiric spider centaur, but this rather makes sense as spiders have relatively small mouths and will partially digest their prey before consumption so seem to prefer a soft, soupy or porridge-like consistency. And finally, their origin story is that Driders are unfortunate (or blessed, depending on the lore) humanoids which have been transformed into their current state by a painful process.

As humans, we have a strong, natural tendency to focus on the 'human' part of any hybrid monster, but that is less than half of the anatomy of a Drider, even considering their usual variations in art.

Consider some typical spider anatomy (From Wikipedia) .

And now consider a typical Drider depiction.

(My own highly talented rendition)

Considering that there is significant variation in the relative size of the spider body compared to the humanoid segment, and why wouldn't there be? The spider can molt and grow, the humanoid part will always remain a fixed size. So the larger the spider body, the older it is.

This looks an awful lot like a perfectly ordinary giant monstrous spider wearing a humanoid as a hat. And that makes sense. Their legends originate as a poor, unfortunate humanoid which failed something, and then gets turned into this spider monster. Subsequent legends re-frame this as a blessing instead of a curse, and instead of scavenging on the outskirts are now revered.

Conclusion: Driders are actually parasitic spiders wearing humanoids as hats to infiltrate and farm the local society building their own spider worshiping cult.

Biology:

Driders 'start' life as perfectly ordinary humanoids (drow in most settings), and are then transformed into Driders. This transformation is accompanied with a lot of pain, and typically a personality change, though the memories and skills of the humanoid appear to remain intact. But what about the spider? That's an awful lot of spider to suddenly grow out of nowhere, considering the process is said to take 12 hours.

So my conclusion is that the humanoid is actually parasitised, hijacked and ultimately killed in this process, and what we are seeing is the spider's personality and the stolen residual skills/mind of the new humanoid hat.

The human didn't grow a spider-butt. The spider came along, removed everything it didn't want to use from the pelvis-down, and integrated with the no longer viable human remains to access it's stored memories, knowledge and skill, whilst also equipping itself with an effective decoy/lure that distracts humanoid foes from the location of its actual vital organs.

The spider's 'head' is soft after a molt, able to reshape itself just enough to hide under this human body, like a hermit crab seeking a new shell. The human gut is accessed by the spider mouth through a woven straw, and the bodies knitted together.

It may also produce eye holes in the waist for its own spider eyes, rather than trying to rely on the humanoid ones, but can probably see through both once integrated enough. It can also probably learn to use those human limbs well enough, it's only two more limbs on a creature that already has ample appendages, and the humanoid brain has a high degree of muscle memory it can tap into.

The spider will progressively integrate with its humanoid hat, gaining access to vocal cords, a healthy lump of brain tissue with all these useful pre-formed memories and skills, and a way to integrate with a society that gains the spider colony even more access to skills, knowledge and food.

Yeah I said colony. We'll get to that.

This does mean that a Drider reproducing does not make more Driders. It makes more giant spiders.

It also means there may be some variation in the exact arrangement of the spider-humanoid junction, as to how much of the humanoid waist remains or whether the humanoid only remains up until their thorax, which requires less bending and produces a smaller target for enemies in combat. The arrangement may also change between molts.

The spider retains complete anatomy, and is capable of being perfectly functional without the humanoid segment. While that human brain offered some advantages, it's also a big, flashy target when combating other humanoids, which instinctively target another human head. The Drider may consequently continue combat with minimal inconvenience if the human head is decapitated, and may shed a human torso that is no longer of use for it. If you want to kill a Drider, you have to kill the spider body.

What the Drider chooses to do with its pedipalps, small mobile limbs at the mouth of the spider, may also vary. They may just sit there perfectly freely, or the Drider may chose to insert them into the thighs of the humanoid (if it keeps them) to create humanoid legs it can puppet. Remember, though that the spider's real mouth is between those pedipalps.

This method of parasitising humanoids to wear half of their bodies as highly skilled hats means that a Drider may choose to discard its humanoid portion, should it become too damaged or inconvenient. This may mean adventurers finding the top halves of humanoids discarded and deceased in the underground, but it's equally likely that the Drider would just eat them. It's good protein, and leaves less evidence.

Whether the Drider has copied memories and skills from the humanoid brain into its own learning is up to your setting, but if it has, consider a Drider that has gone through multiple hosts, retaining knowledge and memories of each. Also consider whether the humanoid brain retains any free will or knowledge of its fate once they are merged.

Culture:

What happens when you have a species which steals knowledge and skills, is highly motivated to do so, but has a period of distinct vulnerability when doing so? You have a motive for them to work together and develop a culture. A community of spiders has an interest in ensuring its members gain better quality humanoid hats. While individuals might have been limited to picking off the vulnerable humanoids (those that 'failed a test'), working together they may claim their existence is a blessing, gaining access to more knowledgeable, powerful hosts and developing a cult around their existence and propagation.

Because of course giant sapient spiders are going to worship a spider goddess.

Females are bigger, and they often live longer than their male counterparts.

With this background in mind, some variations that you might consider:

Tiny males: Only the female spiders reach their gigantic sizes, male spiders are relatively short lived and rarely grow larger than a house cat, and what may have been assumed to be a Drider's pet spiders are actually her male harem. The Drider is always female, regardless of what the humanoid was.

Spellcasters: Phase spiders and spellcasting spiders are actually Driders without a humanoid hat at the time, which have learned or stolen those skills from previous hosts.

Non-humanoid: Consider a juvenile Drider which has taken a non-humanoid species to be its hat, even though there is no apparent benefit the other Driders can see in doing so, and are sure this is just a phase she will grow out of.

This species was chosen by my Patreon supporters. They gain early access to these posts, and can vote for the next species from only $1 a month.

#fantasy biology #drider #drow #spider #monster #body horror #underdark #speculative biology #parasite #spiders #many spiders #spooder

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sasorikigai · 4 years

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Monsters Encroaching on My Heels (Modern AU)

“Behavior reflects personality. The best indicator of future violence is past violence. To understand the artist, you must study his art.” 🔪💀

Kuai Liang hopes to convey all the longing and dreaming of monsters and their averted glances; through his analytic words and uncanny imaginations. Suffering may be a divine tool; a form of manipulation and mutilation, or torture with intent to break. For it was human nature to seek it out in earnest as a tool that would determine one’s purpose in life; without it, the booming inquietude of life would render into faded graphite dust, as all hopes and dreams and aspirations would be built on castle of sand.

He can barely contain his grief and rage at the thought that those serial offenders would enact their fantasies both at the point of murder and afterwards. It is his job to fine-hone and render their motivation and pinpoint the next course of their action, before the criminals could relive the experience of total control and domination, or be up on a cloud nine as the luster of taking a life would lay dormant in their hearts, and before waiting for initiative to give light to dark in their surreptitious hiding, the ring of impulse sitting on the meadow of ubiquitous quotidian of life would reveal them like a pigment sticking out against nocturnal afternoon.

What would he do if he embodied the subconscious of a serial killer? Often times, he would feel like the ground would crumble, as a sudden appearance of a large crater before her that he hadn’t noticed before would steadily consume him, bathe him in gleaming bones, splashed tissues and coiled viscera as the kaleidoscopic prism of his mind would cause him to descend in spiralling plummet, as his ability to see and feel would refuse to be diminished, blurred or outright blinded by pain and sadness. Because Kuai Liang can’t ever deal with the stigma of just giving up, he fights through the war of his profession, fighting through paralysis, breaching the conundrum or impasse of running to dead end.

His mind has strong tendencies to grasp opposites in his own living unity, and hence presents the indwelling reason of events which are meaningful; for he has an affinity with speculative thinking. In his profiling and imaginations, everything is related to the united whole, concretely and freely in an ‘organic articulation,’ but the individual parts may become independent of the totality, and to this extent, it no longer presents a classic unity. Kuai Liang wants them to be more accidental and meaningless, as he trudges the hollow, broken path alone, clawing and scratching in search for his sanity amidst the insanity that may rob his body of its soul, until it’s black and he’s blue.

How his taut stomach expands, ballooning with effort as if attempting to absorb as much of this new world through his lungs as possible. He has learned that as adults, he would have also lost this, breathing in less and less of his world. He would never adapt to breath with only half of his potential, when he could supply oxygen and blood to his brain with his full force. Against the balming weather that gently saturates him in shaded luster, he lets himself loosen beneath the deep pensivity, as he buoys his hopes that no matter where he stands, where he looks, he would liberate the wretched hopelessness from gaining a halcyon light. As long as his mind remained sharpened and honed, he would become an indestructible weapon against so much cruelty at the hands of society and humanity.

#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon)#✗ bone-deep chill of despair (sub-zero)#✗ monster encroaching on my heels (modern au)#(where kathy attempts a quality hc and miserably fails)#(oh well I tried)

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pcwerhouse · 4 years

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Superpower AU Verse: End Days

Below the cut is the plot info for one of the AUs I’ve been working on. It’s nothing special really, just a superpower verse that’s essentially a Heroes/Tokyo Ghoul crossover. I’m thinking right now that it’ll be a hit or miss when it comes to people writing in this verse with me, but I’ve been working out the details for months now and figure I should just go ahead and give it ago. More info to come when I publish my character post for this verse detailing their roles, abilities, etc. I won’t start actually thinking about writing in this verse until I do publish the character info though, so look out for that if you’re interested.

On June 17, 2026, a slaughter like no other occurred in Times Square by the hands of metahuman terrorists. Videos of the massacre went viral, showcasing the devastation these superpowered individuals could enact. People became acutely aware of their inability to protect themselves from violent metas. This event instilled an “us versus them” mentality into minds everywhere and the response to the unforeseen metahuman threat was swift on a global scale. In America, the response was more severe than any other country’s. The MTSA (Metahuman Threat Suppression Agency) was quickly formed and staffed. They were tasked with protecting the non-meta population from the dangerous monsters with superhuman abilities hiding among them. The agency managed to garner power and sway up through the highest branches of government, and in time created laws that made being a metahuman illegal. Metas were either captured for experimentation or killed on sight, that is assuming that they weren’t powerful enough to fight back. The conflict between the MTSA and the metahumans waged on and resulted in numerous deaths on both sides. Though society continued to press on, the American landscape became rather dreary as its citizens---metahuman or not---became consumed by the conflict. The country turned into a totalitarian state over time with the MTSA at the head and their mission to irradicate all metas becoming the rule of law.

The SPLICE Project quickly became the most advantageous scientific program MTSA researchers employed. They learned that the source of each metahuman’s unique abilities was located in their various organ systems. With careful excision techniques, some semblance of those powers could be harnessed and placed into armors, weapons, or mechs to give MTSA agents an upper hand when fighting against combatants. Still, despite the agency’s technological and informational advances in regards to battling the metahumans, they always seemed to be on the losing side of the ongoing war. Metas could easily blend into the normal population meaning that unless they openly used their abilities, they were impossible to discern from normal people.

The tide changed in the MTSA’s favor on the thirty-year anniversary of the Times Square Massacre. The Agency began mass-producing a SPLICE tool utilizing the ability of a meta who could detect others. Suddenly, agents could point a scanner at anyone and determine whether they were a normal human or not. Hidden street scanners would document the identity of any metahuman it caught which made it even harder for them to keep away from The Agency’s clutches. Metas couldn’t hide in the open any longer and were forced to retreat to the recesses of society just to survive. If they wanted to do more than survive, then their only other option was to conceal their faces and fight.

Masked metas became more frequently seen across the country. Some were dedicated to helping those who couldn’t fight to survive. Others were anarchists hellbent on destroying the establishment persecuting their kind. Some just wanted to use their powers freely without worrying about getting registered by a scanner. Either way, all metahumans were marked as enemies of the state and treated as such.

The detection tool became a beacon of hope for normal human society. For the metahumans, it became a harbinger of the end of their days. Metas can be found squatting in underground sewer cities, living in remote wilderness encampments, or anywhere really where they can survive for a time. But some are have grown tired of being hunted like animals. They have been organizing on an unprecedented scale, forming masked groups who use their abilities collectively for whatever purpose they deem righteous. The tides of the metahuman struggle in America may turn once more, but just as metas are honing their abilities, the SPLICE Project artillery is growing more vicious with each new metahuman capture. Plus, MTSA agents seem to be more brazen with their reapings as the public’s faith in the Agency and sense of nationalism continues to surge. Survival means irradicating the enemy, and thirty years of terror, fighting, and pain have left too many scars for most people to reach any kind of understanding with the opposite side. Compromise is not an option.

#verse: end days #feel like it reads messy but whatevs

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roseluwakcoffee · 5 years

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Vampire Headcanons!!

Like. Just general vampire headcanons for all your vampire needs?? Also included an origin story for vampires. All the stuffs under the cut because it’s a lot!

Backstory:

Millenniums ago, vampires were originally demonic creatures who required flesh or blood to survive, but blood was found to be better than flesh. It could have been any blood, but vampires found that humans were optimal. Less of it could sustain vampires for longer than other sources, so humans became a major target. These original vampires were monster-like, and appeared as human-demon hybrids. They were incredibly smart, with superhuman senses and strength and speed. But they were very chaotic creatures who did not get along with humans and only attacked them. This caused the rise of vampire hunters, who began to defend humans and discover the weaknesses of vampires. Eventually the hunters became an actual threat to the species, and vampires became more defensive rather than offensive. They began to hide away, especially as human society grew rapidly.

Over time, vampires began to evolve in order to protect themselves from the threat of hunters. The original vampires remained but far and few between, as most vampires began to take on a much more human appearance. This would help them blend in with human society, where they would involve themselves and gain more power and knowledge of how people functioned. Some vampires began to want to live in the same fashion, if not better, and used their intelligence and other such skills to hold high status in human society. These translated to other vampires and they began to build their own places, small villages full of their own kind. Richer vampires built entire mansions secluded from all, and slowly yet surely they assimilated into humankind.

Vampires used this closeness to help them obtain human blood. There were many methods of doing so; seducing humans, drinking their blood, and then erasing their memories, or working with medical practices of the time that required drawing blood, or simply attacking travelers on their journeys. The last method was not encouraged, but happened often enough to keep the rumors of the vampire’s existence still going. Hunters slowly became a thing of the past, as they had learned to conceal themselves well enough for hunters to be rendered useless. And so, throughout time vampires have continued to evolve with humans, hiding amongst them.

Types of Vampires:

Full Vampires: Typical human-like vampire. Born from two other vampires, usually lives childhood in a vampire society or family. Proud of being full-blooded when it comes to other vampires.

Feral Vampires: The original vampires that did not change to evade extinction. Very, very rare. Regarded as ‘feral’ by vampire society, who looks down on their continued existence. They aren’t as chaotic as in the past; they hide outside of society and only attack those who bother them.

Human Vampires: Humans who were turned into vampires. Also uncommon. Usually seen as lesser by full vampires, but are allowed into society. Initially appear entirely human except for fangs and superhuman abilities until they drink human blood for the first time, which grants them all of the power and appearance of full vampires.

Dhamphirs: The children of a human and vampire. Abhorred by higher vampire society, which looks down on relationships between humans and vampires. They are granted all of the powers of a vampire but the looks of a human. They also do not have vampire weaknesses or require blood, making them rather powerful. Extremely rare and usually hidden as humans.

Abilities:

Superhuman Abilities: Incredible strength, speed, and heightened senses.

Shapeshifting: Able to shift into other forms in order to trick humans, or can shift into a myriad of bats. The amount of bats is dependent upon the mass of the vampire themselves.

Magic: Able to use small amounts of magic, usually charms, often used to erase the memories of human they’ve taken blood from. More prestigious vampires are trained to use things such as traps or elemental magic, usually from inhuman magicians.

Blood-Draining: Able to bite humans to drain blood. Their fangs are coated with a certain substance that stops the bleeding as soon as the vampire finishes. Vampires also possess a numbing agent on their tongue that can make bites less painful.

Human-Turning: There are two ways for a vampire to turn humans into vampires. They can either drain a human of all of their blood, which usually only happens by accident with feral vampires, or they can bite a human and create a special substance with their fangs, that enters a human’s bloodstream and slowly transforms them. The first method is the reason why vampires are seen as undead creatures, as when feral vampires were common, humans would be found drained of blood and later revive as vampires, attacking others.

Flight: Able to fly using a pair of bat-like wings on their back. These wings can be concealed with magic, and most vampire attire has holes or flaps on the back of the shirts to allow the wings to fold up freely.

Extreme Healing: Vampires can heal almost instantly from minor injuries. Even major injuries can take only minutes to recover from, such as the loss of a limb. This makes killing vampires incredibly difficult.

Appearance:

Fangs: Vampires have sharp fangs where their canines are, and their nails can be razor sharp and claw-like.

Wings: Vampires have a pair of bat-like wings that protrude from underneath the shoulder bone. The wingspan is usually equivalent to the height of the vampire.

Eyes: Most vampires have deep red eyes with sharp cat-like pupils. They are able to hide the color with magic, and feral vampires tend to have red-tinted scleras as well.

Ferality: If full vampires don’t have enough blood to sustain themselves, regardless of any food, they can snap and turn more like feral vampires, looking demonic in appearance.

Weaknesses:

Sunlight: Standing under the sun causes vampires to become physically weak; they eventually lose their powers and need to find shade to recover. It can also burn away their skin after a while.

Silver: Silver also takes away vampire’s abilities. It burns to the touch, and if a vampire is injured with a weapon made of silver, it takes the same amount of time to recover from as it would a human. This is how vampires are most often hunted.

Holy Objects: Religious objects can weaken vampires, but only if the vampire believes in the religious object’s power.

Running Water: Vampires cannot cross running water. This has the same effect as weakening them, and so they cannot go out in the rain without proper protection.

Wooden Stakes: Rarely used method, but if a wooden stake strikes a vampire’s heart exactly, it will kill the vampire almost instantly.

#text #not danganronpa #vampires #I know I promised more danganronpa content but this is important!!#and no I totally didn't create these headcanons based off of a deep obsession with touhou like four years ago #anyways like use this for vampire aus if you want!!

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stusbunker · 6 years

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Not My Brother

Through the Years: A Supernatural Reincarnation AU

Souls have a way of meeting in every lifetime. Sometimes they are friends, family, lovers, enemies or rivals. Follow the journey of the relationships with Sam and Dean over many lifetimes. Told by our favorite Angel as a bedtime story.

A/N: This one is really long. Word counts are for other people. xoxo Stu

On the edge of two plantations, there was a stream and in that stream a young boy chased a girl. She had teeth too big for her face and he had knees too big for his legs, but they played anyway. He was the heir of the Eastern homestead and she was the only child on the smaller Western farm. Some people would use the term puppy love, but whatever friendship had sprouted between Dean and Y/N, it met a fissure that day.

Jumping along the wet stones that lined the bank of the stream, Y/N tried to keep up with Dean’s longer limbs. As the water deepened, Dean expertly jumped to higher ground. Y/N slipped, missing the next outcropping and fell into the growing current. Before Dean looked behind him to gauge his lead, Y/N had slipped beneath the water. Her small face bobbing in and out of the waves as she tried to tip toe to surer footing.

Dean shrieked Y/N’s name when he spotted her struggling in the water. He dove in towards her, frantically trying to pull her to safety. But she was heavy and he was just skin and bones. Just as Dean thought they would die together in those familiar waters, strong arms tugged at their waists, steady legs pushed from the creek bed and they all gasped for air. Once Dean knew both he and Y/N were safe and scrambling on all fours over the pebbled shore, he looked to their rescuer.

It was one of the slave children, he was not much older than Dean with strikingly light eyes. He kept his face down, cowering in the manner he had been taught, and asked his feet, if his young master was alright in something barely above a grunt.

“Thanks to you, boy, we both are.” Dean heaved.

During this time in America, many landowners also owned slaves. It was dehumanizing and wrong, but much of this country’s early progress was created on the backs of Africans laboring in tobacco and cotton fields. There were indentured servants, as well, but the Virginia Slave Codes of 1705 made the system harder for rebellions by pitting the mostly white indentureds against the black slaves. So, a hundred and thirty years later, the system had been solidified in racism. Families would own children who would, in turn, grow up and have more children, a seemingly limitless supply of nearly free labor available to them. And when there were too many families of slaves, the landowner may break them apart, sending mothers away from children and husbands away from wives in order to keep control over them.

“But, they are people. People did this to each other?” Grace asked confused against the blatantly evil deeds done by humans and not true monsters.

“Yes, Grace, people do a lot of things for their own benefit. Some chose to see the consequences of their actions, while others see it as the way things are. There were many problems with the system, but none of it could be changed overnight.”

***

After that incident, Y/N grew scared of playing so freely with the boy in the neighboring plantation. She kept mostly to herself and they spent their awkward years with little interaction. Sam kept to his duties, but lingered on the bordering stream, hoping for nothing more than a friend in confusing times. His people always kept him at an arm’s length, and without much said on the matter he knew it was because he was the master’s bastard. His lighter skin and bright eyes a beacon of indiscretion. He didn’t fit anywhere and grew up lonely though he had siblings and family abounding.

Dean grew strong and worked to learn what he could from his father, a man both revered and influential. Dean quickly learned what was expected of him as a young man from a good family in Southern Society, attending cotillions and races in the rare spare time he had from managing the land and servants. It was at a ball on the Harvelle property that Dean saw Y/N again, she wore lilac and her smile nearly broke his carefully quaffed manners.

They talked and danced, the night air crackled with their connection. As her carriage was called, behind the old live oak tree Y/N stood on her toes to press her lips to Dean’s for the first time. She hurried away, skirts jostling across the lawn, but he knew that they were destined to meet again. His smile burned with the heat of her breath.

They were married the next spring, a merger of both romance and real estate. Y/N’s parents remained in their home, but the lands and the servants were to be overseen by Dean and his father. Y/N was not used to the scale of Dean’s family’s riches, their quarters and fineries grander than her expectations. She soon learned every name of the household staff, settling into the role of wife and lady of the house.

***

Dean was continually surprised by the ways Y/N brought joy into the house. His mother had died a few years earlier from consumption and having a woman around was something he hadn’t realized they had been missing. His father watched contentedly as his son fell deeper in love with his young wife. John was a strict man, but he indulged his son, allowing Dean to revel in the blissful first year of marriage.

The farm workers had been less than accepting of the new hands from Y/N’s property. Their fields were tiny and their loads had been light in comparison, leaving Dean’s to train the newcomers to their new master’s standards. Sam was patient, helping the older men with their rows as they couldn’t work as fast as was expected. But the others resented the new mistress and her ‘lazy’ slaves. The tension simmered once the first harvest had been abundant, but Sam knew it was only buried and not forgotten.

Y/N was determined to make a good impression on her husband and father-in-law, planning a large gala for their first Christmas together. She spoke animatedly with her husband, ensuring that every detail was perfect. She oversaw the fitting of the servants herself, wanting their uniforms to be fresh and consistent. It was then that she saw Sam again, who she barely recognized as he had changed just as much as she had since the near drowning all those years before.

“Don’t fuss,” Jo warned him.

“Yes, Mama,” Sam agreed, spreading his arms wide as the head maid held up the measuring tape.

“Come now, surely this man’s not your son? You’re not old enough to have a grown child.” Y/N asked naively, thinking she was giving her best servant a compliment.

“He’s my oldest, ma’am, but most of them are grown now.” Jo quickly took the rest of the sizing down. Sam watched the new mistress in a way that embarrassed her and she soon sent her son away. Y/N missed nothing, but kept it to herself. It wasn’t until after the new year and the nausea settled in that Y/N realized how Sam had come to be. She didn’t mention her suspicions to her husband, not wanting to dim his pride with the truth of his father’s scandal.

***

Sam had begun to leave in the night, sometimes for an hour, sometimes he wouldn’t return until sun up. His mother started to worry. If she could, she would have followed him and make him see reason. But Charlie was still young, barely seven and tucked safely in her bed, Jo wouldn’t leave her because Sam was suddenly reckless. It was during a night of worry that Dean came to her in a panic, the baby was coming and he looked terrified beyond comprehension.

She sighed at the man’s request, gathering her youngest and a bag of supplies before following him back to the big house. It was a tough birth, but Charlie kept the father and grandfather entertained as Jo and another maid tended to Y/N. Dean’s apprehension caused him to miss how familiar his father was with the little girl, how he doted on her, sneaking her snacks and smiling like he hadn’t in years. Her eyes, though, Dean couldn’t miss, because they were not her mother’s eyes but his own.

Their son was born when the sun was high the next day, a hearty baby for an exhausted mother. Dean cried and John tried to hide that he did as well. Y/N thanked Jo and her assistant before falling into a restless sleep. The household erupted over the new generation and the years blurred into a string of nights like this one. Soon Y/N had four boys and a girl running through the lawn and swimming in the stream.

John had a stroke before the youngest was walking, leaving Dean to oversee his estate. He survived a few weeks in bed, Jo seeing to his every need. Dean didn’t question her devotion, but knew she had much more she ought to have been worrying about. John asked for Dean at the end, a drawling demand that he look over his brother and sister, Dean obliged not quite understanding what he meant. Until he heard Jo’s voice break as John took his last breath. The woman who had stoically helped birth his children and cautiously cared for his mother as she lay dying, wept openly for his father. It was part loss and part relief.

***

“What did he do?” Y/N asked Cas, the children long forgotten with their dreams. The old friends sat criss cross applesauce in the hush of nighttime. The sounds of crickets and an occasional owl heard from the seemingly limitless backyard.

“Nothing. At first he mourned,” Cas continued.

John had been everything to Dean and losing him was devastating, Dean refused to acknowledge his father was not the man he had known him to be. That John was flawed and that Dean now had to protect his legacy as well as his illegitimate biracial siblings was more than he could bear. He became withdrawn and paranoid, sending both Jo and Y/N away when they tried to reach him.

In the years since he first worried his mother, Sam had been busy. With many of the outbuildings on Y/N’s birth home now abandoned, he had started housing fugitives. The stream helped hide tracks and scents and the runaway slaves grew to depend on Sam’s stop on what would eventually be known as the Underground Railroad. Jo ignored his absences, but refused to give him her help or approval. What he was doing could get a lot of people killed and she wouldn’t support that kind of risk.

But Y/N found them before any bounty hunter could. She had brought the kids down to visit her parents, watching as they caught fireflies. She wanted to show them the hay loft, but ran smack into Sam’s back as he closed a trap door. The kids were running in the dark, missing the revelation as Sam’s face broke into a mask of worry.

“Sorry, missus, didn’t mean to bother you,” he ducked his head, but stood firmly on the spot, not wanting to leave those vulnerable to prying eyes. Y/N watched him closely and stepped back.

“Why do you do that? Look at the ground when you talk to me?” Y/N asked, the authority she held barely lingered in her voice.

“I am a servant, ma’am. We are to give you respect.” Sam answered, his voice gruff, but weary.

“You’re also my husband’s brother and my dear friend’s son.” Y/N replied, at that he smiled, bright teeth flashing in the darkened barn.

“Mama would laugh you calling her your friend. That’s a good one, ma’am.” Sam’s eyes rose to lock on Y/N’s.

“Well, she is. Probably my closest companion, especially--”

“Especially after my father died and your old man is being ornery?” Sam crossed his arms over his wide chest and watched her.

“Don’t get that familiar.” Y/N teased, a smirk catching on her lips. “I am going to pretend I don’t know what you’re doing here, because I owe you my life. But, please, for your mother’s sake. Be careful.”

Sam nodded and watched her leave, the small light from the farmhouse fire lighting her way. He waited until he saw her and the children’s silhouettes bounding up to the carriage, the gentle clomp of the horse’s hooves a safety bell.

***

The hounds and the hunters came pawing at the gates during dinner. Voices shouting and eyes burning into Sam as the accusations started to fly. Dean could hear them from the dinning room and excused himself while Y/N kept the children focused on their meals. She spared a glance at Jo, nodding in mutual concern. By the time Dean got to the yards, Sam and a couple others were bloody.

He bellowed at the strangers, “Excuse me, but what kind of man comes on to property that aint his and starts attacking people?!”

“Sorry, sir, but your boy here looks like one of them that’s been stealing folks from their owners. We need to find ‘em is all.” One of the men spoke, the others still struggling with restraining Sam.

Dean circled around slowly, eyeing the men, his gut tingling and authority questioned when suddenly, he struck. He backhanded the man who had spoke to him.

“What’s the matter with you?! You don’t get to put blame on my people without proof. I ought to beat the tar out of you, all of you.” He pulled a knife from his belt and leaned over the man, eyes dark and jaw set. A ripple of flint locks silenced the men. Jo, Y/N and Dean’s oldest, Kevin, held guns to the backs of the trespassers’ heads.

Sam fell to his knees, the others stumbled to standing as their attackers surrendered, holding their hands in the air and walking away. The dogs growled until they were tugged back, confused and frustrated.

“You get the hell off of our land,” Kevin’s voice was even and menacing. Dean appraised his family before looking at the bounty hunters once more.

“Seems like you made a mistake. This man hasn’t left my property since he was born, aint that right, Jo?”

“Yes, sir, surly.” Her eyes twitched at the aghast expression of the men, appalled of a slave addressing them while wielding a weapon.

“This aint over. We’ll be back. There’s people bigger than you missing folk.”

“I don’t know anything about fugitives, boys. Now, get, before you leave with a few more holes, huh?” Dean slowly followed the men to the road, watching as they headed East and out of sight.

***

That night the armor of denial broke and Dean snapped. He tore into Sam, beating him for bringing that kind of attention on to his name, for putting him in a spot of being saved by women and servants, for existing. His rage turned into torture and when he stepped back and saw what he had done, he wept. Dean sat with his head in his hands as Sam groaned. Dean was scared and he had let his father down in the process. A ship lost at sea, nothing made sense and he had no compass.

That’s when Y/N found Dean, bloody and broken, she pulled him to standing and walked him inside. She tried not to look at what he had done, the knowledge that Sam would be taken care of, her only solace for his pain. She bathed her husband, wrapped his knuckles in clean cloth and took him to bed. She held him to her chest as he fitfully slept, it was her longest day of that lifetime. Dean apologized in the morning, unable to meet her eye. She shushed him and told the truth, “You don’t owe me an apology, but you don’t deserve forgiveness. We need to keep him safe, because he’s family. Now you either help me or you stay out of my way.”

It was the latter, eventually. When Sam was able to work again, Y/N had him drive her to the barn nearest her parents’ home. She explained what was to happen, refusing to let him speak until she was done. She looked up at his yellowed and purpled face, “How long will it take?”

“Four days? Maybe five.” He looked passed her, over the hills and into the vast sky. “They’ll come for me, might even get here first.”

“Then we’ll give them no reason to track you,” Y/N patted his large shoulder, needing to reassure herself as much as him. He held her hand to his arm, his calloused hand warm against her fragile fingers. That was the last time they saw each other.

***

Sam moved with the last pair of fugitives onto the arduous trail north. Y/N had secured him money and provisions, more than any other runaway could have hoped for. She waited for the sheriff and the bounty hunters to return before torching her family’s barn and sheds. The danger of a fire and demolition of any remaining evidence cut the investigation quickly in half. There was a body, beyond recognition in the blaze. The mistress was certain it was the man in question. The master agreed.

Their children grew and the world continued to teem with the tide of change. Charlie took over when her mother’s hands started to give out. It was at Christmastime when one day Y/N started squealing over a letter, sending a gray haired Dean into confused dismay.

“What’s the matter, woman? Or have you finally lost it?”

She laughed at her husband, but called the maid into their chambers. “Take this to your mother, if you need I can read it to her.”

“That’s alright missus, I can read it.”

She held her husband’s hands in hers and she looked him in the eye. “He made it, your brother lives.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, clearing his throat he stood up, and looked out the window to the fields. They had down sized to Y/N’s old family home, letting Kevin take over the big house. They hadn’t acquired any more servants from the time of the fire, letting the elderly work less and slowly manumitting them one by one. Many stayed on the land because that was where their families were, others disappeared as Sam had. They lost profits, but built character, at least, that was how Y/N sold it to her children and their spouses.

Dean lost Y/N too soon, after only forty five years of marriage. She went in her sleep, cool beside him when he woke. He had lost his saving grace, but he still had a job to do. So that night, after all the arrangements and all of the devastation had quelled within the house and his heart, he sat by the fire and read with Charlie.

Like he had nearly every night since she took over, because he still had a sister he needed to look after, after all.

Cas sighed, watching Y/N cry was never easy. He took her hand in his and waited, wishing his presence could be as calming as hers was to him. She chuckled at herself, wiping the tears with the meat of her palms.

“Did Dean say what they were hunting?” She changed the subject to the real weight on her heart.

“I’m sorry, no, but if I don’t know then I don’t have to lie to their mother.” Cas explained.

“Well, I’m just trusting them to be back by breakfast, because I bought an extra pound of bacon for that s.o.b., so he better not stand us up.” Y/N stood up and reached over to help Cas up.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Y/N,” Cas said before heading back downstairs toward the couch to sleep.

“Yeah, still not that great a liar,” Y/N shrugged and smiled at him before heading into her empty bedroom.

Chapter 4: Bait

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterprincessbride @veroinnumera @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @dontshootmespence @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @julie121899 @mikimausii @fanfictionrecommendations-com @theunionof3 @windbirdy @rising-ice-phoenix @tuliptx @eve05glee @ericaprice2008 @horsegirly99 @goodbyemilkway @star-light-child @supernaturalshenanigans @itsinherited @rmmalta @oceans-daughter-3 @forthoseabouttoread @2017booklover @new-york3 @bakinginhell @lakeli @marilynnlew @sol2694 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @alinahearts13 @all-of-the-little-infinites @amanda-teaches @oneshoeshort @claitynroberts @noshit-johnlock @sleep-silent-angel @jamielea81 @salt-n-burn-em-all

#supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #sam winchesters #castiel #spn au #reincarnation au #soul clusters #spn fanfic #spn fanfic series #spn au series #soulmate au #violence #slavery #historical fan-fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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codylabs · 6 years

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Chapter 25: The End of Fate

Links: P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Wendy strained one last time at the webs holding her to the wall. She thought she felt a few strands breaking near her legs, but their failure did nothing to weaken the rest of the material. In fact, the more she wiggled around and tried to loose herself, the more the webs just stuck and mashed together, the more they bonded to her skin, and the more her muscles yielded to fatigue. After a minute or so she gave up, no closer to freedom and feeling significantly more like a cocooned insect.

She could move her fingers. She could move her toes. She could move her neck and her eyes, but that was the limit of her. Her arms, legs, torso, all her body… It no longer obeyed her. All she could do was stare at the monster, as it stared back.

The Shapeshifter’s mother. Some kind of time-traveling mystery character, who’d seen thousands of years of history, who’d killed people throughout them, who seemed to know everything, and who most likely ate people. Wendy could feel the eyes probing and inspecting, as indifferently as one might regard a museum piece, or a slab of meat.

The beast took a step toward her.

She could kill me. Wendy knew. She could kill me if she wanted, and I can’t even move.

…Wait, was she an ‘it’? Or was it a ‘she’? Wendy briefly wondered to herself. A person or a thing? How do you refer to intelligent creatures which act like this? Are they still rational beings? Or can you really be so evil and twisted that you forsake your own soul?

Wendy was quite too mad to really care.

“Let me down.” She told her, as she came closer. “Come on, you grimy old sack of phlegm! Let me down or I’ll beat the living daylights out of you! Come on!”

She stopped about 3 feet from Wendy, and peered down at her face. “I thought I gagged you.” She replied calmly, as she inspected the stray scraps of webbing around Wendy’s mouth.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should use more than weird spider webs next time.” Wendy growled. “Something I can’t just chew up and spit out.”

“Probably good advice.” Her head widened slightly, and her teeth shapeshifted into some kind of slobbering, many-tendrilled orifice, which then secreted a stringy mass of webbing. She rolled the material into a tight ball with her hands.

“Well, it’s just common sense.” Wendy tried to shrug. “I mean, if I had some alien tied up in my basement, you can bet I’d make darn su—” She squeezed Wendy’s cheeks, forced her mouth open, shoved the ball in between her teeth, and pasted it in place with another web across her face.

Wendy took a deep breath in through her nose, as she silently glared.

The creature calmly wiped the excess gunk off her hands, then eased to a seated position on the floor. They were both silent for a moment, one by necessity, one for thought.

“I know lots of things.” The shifter finally remarked. “From lots of times, from lots of places.”

“Mmf mf.” Wendy retorted.

“Some of them happen to be about you.” She said. Her body rearranged into the form of Mr. Sherman, her PE coach from grade school. “Wendy Blerble Corduroy…” Mr. Sherman’s voice hummed with perfect clarity. “You did pretty well on the football and wrestling teams during elementary and middle school… And word on the street is, you ‘kind of ruled’ in the annual lumberjack games…”

“Rgf mmf.” The gag made it easy to hide her confusion. Wait a minute, was Mr. Sherman the shapeshifter all along? How does THAT make sense? What the heck?

The shifter’s form changed again, this time solidifying as a short, intense Asian man: Mr. Chiu, her science teacher from just last year… “Although both your grades and extra-scholastic endeavors declined steadily through your teen years.” Mr. Chiu’s voice told her. Wait a minute! Wendy thought. Mr. Chiu has a human daughter. He couldn’t have been her all along… She must have… Wait, what? “Perhaps.” The image of Mr. Chiu continued. “Was it because you discovered friends in lower circles? Or as you became increasingly disillusioned with the world…?” She transformed into Toot-Toot McBumbersnazzle, aka Blind Ivan. “Or perhaps as the late Blind Eye Society trimmed back your working knowledge whenever you happened across something you ought not see…” Okay, there’s no WAY that HE was her this entire time… So how DOES she know so much…? It morphed again, and she was looking at and listening to her own dad… “However it worked, you got it through yer noggin’ that everything ya did was just useless and pointless… Guess ya figured on how easy it was to sit on your butt and do nothing at all. So ya threw yer life away, and turned inta the lazy one…”

Wendy glared.

The mimic of her father leaned in a little closer. “Yeah, that’s it, ain’t it? The Wendy that allll them school records show. Always so darn chill, always calm, level, and cool… But as far as the world’s concerned, less than useless…” It sounded and felt like her own dad talking. Gruff as ever. Candid as ever. Right as ever…

The shape changed again, to Stanley Pines. “No…” Her former employer scratched his chin skeptically, and adjusted his glasses. “No it’s not. That’s ain’t you, not anymore. Now I hear yer doing better in school, ya had a hand in eliminating the Blind Eye, in that rascal Bill’s defeat, and now in even deeper, stranger matters…”

She took the form of Robbie, which set off some alarm in Wendy’s mind, as she remembered that Robbie was probably dead… “You, like, don’t fear anything at all…” Robbie’s voice told her. “You fight robots on Tuesday, Aliens on Wednesday, ghosts on Thursday… All sorts of crazy adventures, you’re probably real close to a lot of things you really shouldn’t see…” And now the shifter looked like Tambry. “People don’t ever change.” Tambry told her. “They get changed. So why are you different all of a sudden? What changed you? Your job at the tourist trap selling junk? Mr. Pines, that old jerk you worked for?” Tambry put her hands on her hips. “Or something else, like your new friends?”

Now the shifter shrunk down to the size of a child. A very familiar size. A very familiar shape… Before Wendy had a chance to mentally prepare herself to look at this, she found her eyes locked with those of Dipper. “Was it me?” It was his voice again, his old, familiar, youthful voice. The voice tore into the weird corners of Wendy’s mind, upsetting everything, confusing everything; she was defenseless against it. Dipper. She blinked. DIPPER! She tried to shake her head. Dipper’s dead… Dipper! “…Was it Dipper…?” Dipper asked.

Wendy couldn’t quite find words.

“Sorry.” The Dipper mimic smiled awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to ramble. I guess… I guess what I really want to get down to is the cause of things. Why are you the way that you are? What happened, where, when… What made you? If it was Dipper, then what made him who he was? Who guided you? Trained you? Inspired you, knighted you, blessed you? What force of fate, chance or choice placed this destiny in your lap, and bid you go and become a hero?”

What a strange thing to ask.

“You do know.” The Dipper mimic insisted. “I know you’re not stupid, I know you know what I’m asking… Just c’mon, please Wendy?” The intonation of his voice matched Dipper’s so perfectly for a moment that she couldn’t help but recoil. Dipper’s hands reached up and peeled the gag off her mouth. “Like, c’mon, I can tell there’s something you’re not saying. Maybe many things? …No, just one thing… Yeah, there’s one secret you swore to always keep from me, and what’s that? C’mon, you can tell me… I mean, why not at this point, huh? Ha ha… Yeah…”

Wendy flexed her jaw, enjoying the ability to once again breath freely. Dipper’s hand reached up and brushed gently across her cheek. The thin, cold little fingers felt just exactly like his… Cognitive dissonance hit like another wet slap, as half her brain believed for a moment that it was him.

But of course, it wasn’t. And she didn’t believe it. “Go die in a hole, you PSYCHO!” She screamed.

“Whaaaat, c’mon Wendy!”

“You—”

“Hey now, you don’t want me to use the tentacles.”

“The? Wait, tenta—”

“I guess I wouldn’t mind though.” Two of the fingers on Dipper’s hand grew and expanded into a pair of stiff, thin, sharp little appendages, which he then shoved up Wendy’s nostrils.

It hurt.

Wendy thrashed around, tried to pull away, tried to turn and hide her face, tried to reach her hands in to help, but nothing worked; they were working their way deeper into her skull. Wendy’s furious struggling managed to break some of the webs holding her head in place, but the extra movement just made the probes hurt a hundred times worse.

IT HURT.

“You.” Dipper said. “Who were you? Who are you? And why?”

Wendy emitted a furious cry; a guttural, feral sound she didn’t know she had in her, and arched up to try to bite the hand. Her teeth clacked in the empty air.

Dipper’s voice burst out laughing. “An animal!” He said, as he drug Wendy’s head back down to face forward. “An animal pretending to be a person! A person priding in its ingenuity, modesty, fair judgement, rationality; the kinda things that set it above the beast. But deep, deep down, beyond the walls of faith and friendship, only nature remains. Now that you have lost these things, you’re getting the point where you cross the line. Maybe you already crossed it?”

“Die! In! A! Hole!” She managed.

“How can you say that? Look at your body, sick, weak, helpless, invaded, bound… It’s not your body, it’s mine now, and I see it as nothing but so much meat… So what do you hang on to? How can you spit in my face, when you dangle precariously at the end of yourself? Why aren’t you afraid? Do you believe yourself to be strong? Indestructible? Or is this fleshy body nothing but meat to you as well? What made you into this thing, this thing that thinks itself fearsome?”

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!!”

“Remember everything you still have left to lose! Your sanity! Your honor! Your dignity! Your soul! How long until there is nothing left of Ms. Corduroy for me to speak to? How long until there’s nothing on this wall but a wild, snarling dog?!?”

“YOU SHUT UP!” Wendy screamed.

The lights flicked off in the room, leaving Wendy with no perception of the world except the sloppy sounds of creature’s movement, the taste of her own blood, and the pain…

She felt the fingers curling inside her nose, pulling her forward. Then they pushed, and slammed her head against the metal wall behind her. Then they pulled again, and they slammed again, and again, and now her entire head hurt and she could barely concentrate, and she could feel something inside her head splitting and stinging, as if with every blow was drilling the dreaded things deeper, closer to her brain.

Tiny, sharp, incredible pains shot through her arms and legs now too, and she guessed the shapeshifter must have put other limbs to work as well, poking and prodding and crawling over her like the probing limbs of some spidery thing, drilling and cutting and who knows what else. And all through it, there was just this darkness, hiding whatever else may be in store…

Why is this even happening? Why does it have to hurt? And why do I care whether this THING knows or not anyway? It’s not like it’s super important, or even true… What’s the point in keeping secrets? What’s the point in screaming threats? What’s the point in even trying? Just kill me! KILL ME!

All alone, in great pain, at the end of everything, Wendy finally panicked.

“11:03 THIS MORNING!” She gasped.

The pounding ceased. The poking and the stabbing paused.

“What was that, red?” Dipper’s voice asked.

“Eleven…” Wendy screwed her eyes shut, and felt tears trickle down her face. “Eleven-oh-three this morning… This morning… You’ll see… My secret…”

Slowly and painfully, the fingers pulled out of Wendy’s nose.

She sneezed up blood.

“Broken at last.” The creature remarked in its natural voice.

The gag was crammed back in her mouth, the loosened webs were reinforced, and then the monster retreated. She must have had a second time machine besides the one she gifted her son, because she promptly disappeared in a flash of blue light, leaving Wendy alone.

All seemed suddenly quiet and still… But not empty. All around her, she could feel the evil standing; threatening, near, haunting… It was danger, it was fear, this malignant force that watched and taunted and worked deeper, searching out those corners of her brain that hadn’t yet been violated. And one by one, as hopeful thoughts stood, up, it crushed them down, reminding her that she was broken, and helpless, and small. Nothing but a tiny, squealing animal, hanging on the wall.

She blinked.

I need to escape…

Wendy knew she couldn’t escape.

I need to bust loose…

How on Earth could she ever bust loose?

I need to stay conscious. Alert…

That was looking difficult…

I need to think…

Wendy couldn’t think.

I need to think…!

She wasn’t good at thinking.

I NEED TO THINK!

She never had been the thinking one. She was just the athletic one. The fighting one. The level one. The calm one. Dipper was the thinking one. Dipper was the creative one. Dipper was the hero, and I was just his crush. Just his sidekick. Just there to make sure he didn’t get hurt…

Dipper…

I knew you.

Know you.

I was your crush. I was your protection. And I was your calm.

Now I guess I’ve failed all three.

She sneezed again. Her chest heaved painfully, and more blood dribbled over her lips and down her chin. Dipper… She could barely breath, past her flooded nose and the gag in her mouth, so she gasped and wheezed every breath, as she croaked, and coughed, and cried, and bled. I’m sorry… I never told you that you were a great guy…. I never told you how much you meant to me… I let you die, left you for others to bury, I just stormed off and got myself here… And now I panicked… And now I played the fool with a monster who doesn’t even know you… I gave up my secret… I gave up OUR secret… She cried and she bled. I’m sorry…

He wasn’t who the shifter pretended to be. He wasn’t that. He wouldn’t say or do those things, wouldn’t taunt her for not being as indestructible as she seemed…

What would he say if he were here?

If Dipper were here…

Well. First of all, he’d probably be all like: ‘Wait, what secret? What’s so special about 11:03?’ He was a curious guy; always did have a hard time knowing when to mind his own business.

Wendy scraped her cheek against her shoulder as hard as she could, and managed to loosen some of the webs holding the gag in place. After a minute or so, she was able to get her tongue past the edges of it, and break the rest of the strings. Then she spat the ball to the ground, and was able to breathe easily again. The oxygen was little reconciliation for the rest of her suffering, and she may have swallowed some of the sticky gunk by accident.

If Dipper were here…

‘At 11:03 this morning…’ She would have muttered to him. ‘I… Kinda let Stan in on my secret… If creepy-face warps back to then, she’ll know too… Ha ha… I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy, that’s why I told Stan… But I guess I’m still not sure… Guess I’ll never know…’

He would’ve been quick to deny her angst. ‘You’re not crazy… Y’know the stuff she said about being an animal isn’t true. You… You’re not. You’re not crazy. You’re not.’

‘… I guess everyone reaches a point, dude… Guess it just takes one bad day…’

He wouldn’t be quite sure how to counter that. ‘So… I dunno. So what’s the secret?’ He would’ve changed the subject.

Yeah, I never did tell him that one. Real shame, because I guess it was his secret as well as mine… If he were here, if things were looking this bad, I guess I probably would have admitted it to him. If we’re both to die, he deserves to know. She would have told him. ‘…I met myself last fall.’ She would’ve blurted reluctantly. ‘My future self. She came time-traveling back from maybe a decade down the road, and she talked to me… So she’s a big part of the reason I’m working harder in school, going on these adventures, and doing better with things in general… Like Momma Shifter said, I got changed… Didn’t want her to know, because… I don’t know. It’s private. It’s cool… And after everything I lost, I didn’t want to lose that too…’

‘Woah… What was she like?’ Wendy turned her head to the left in the darkness. If Dipper had been here with her, he would have been captured too. He would’ve been webbed up in the empty spot next to her… She imagined him there now, and wondered again if she really was going crazy.

‘Uh… Real chill… Real chill.’ Wendy recalled. ‘Totally decked out in futurey gear though, like some kinda time-cop. She was wearing this big robotic suit of armor, she had weapons, and a time machine…’

‘…Did she say anything about me?’ Dipper would have asked. Well, no, actually he wouldn’t say that. He’d just think that. Out loud, he’d just nervously mumble something lame like… ‘Huh, wow. Robot suit, huh?’

‘Heck yes she mentioned you.’ Wendy would have replied. ‘Yeah… She said you were a great guy. An example to learn from, even… In fact!’ Wendy crossed the point of no return, and spat it out. ‘She said! She said that you end up being my husband for some reason! We’re married! How ‘bout that?’

That would have taken a couple seconds to sink into his brain. And then he would have freaked out for a several minutes at least.

‘Yeah, c’mon, see? See why I never told you?’ She would’ve scoffed, tried to downplay it. ‘You make this whole relationship weird and awkward enough without me dropping the “oh-hey-it’s-destiny-or-something!” bomb in the middle of things.’

‘WELL! BUT! I! UGH! AH! WHAT?!’

‘Look… Just calm down, it doesn’t matter, all right? I mean… It’s not even true. You’re dead. And now I’ll be dead. Somehow it wasn’t real… And now I don’t even know what’s happening! Everything’s falling apart and dying so fast; you, my friends, my dad… And to top it off, I sang like a canary after a measly 5 minutes of torture! I lost my calm! She got to me…! Like, what’s the point in even trying? I’m not strong any more… Dipper, if I’m not the strong one, then who am I?’

He would’ve forced his mind back on-topic; he was good at that. He would’ve thought about it all for a minute, trying to think of something wise to say. Then he’d finally say it, and it wouldn’t be very wise at all; just sweet and simple and caring… Something like, ‘Don’t you remember? You’re a flippin’ Corduroy!’

‘A flippin’ Corduroy…’ She sighed. ‘…Why did you idolize me so much, dude? Everything meaningful I ever did was just because I had to or because I was bored…’

‘Well—’

‘You know you could’ve done better than me… Guy like you could’ve set your sights higher; fallen in love with somebody beautiful and talented… A genius, or a super hero, or a princess…’

‘UH…!’ He would’ve hurried to interject ‘W-w-would it, like, be too cheesy to say you’re a princess to me?’

‘Oh my friggin’…’ She tried not to roll her eyes. ‘You…! Oh… Geez, okay, focus. C’mon Dipper. C’mon, help me out here, look at this rationally, what do I DO? How do I get out of this? I can’t fight time-traveling monsters, can I? Time traveling monsters that can be anyone, do anything…’

‘Well… I don’t… Uh…’

‘You have to know! I got myself into this mess, and now you have to get me out of it! Come on… You always know! You’re the smart one! You’re always able to ad-lib some kinda plan! Always!’

‘Umm… I don’t know… Oh man, I wish I could reach my journal…’

Wendy’s eyes drifted across the darkened room to the place where it was lying among her other confiscated stuff. ‘I can’t reach it either… But well, hey, I have been reading it the last couple nights since you died, so I remember a lot of it… Why?’

‘It’s got my notes on time travel…’

‘Uh… Oh, wait wait, yeah, I read those! I read them… What about ‘em?’

‘Well… Okay, think. Think about it: When did you see your future self?’

‘Huh?’

‘When did you see her? Before I died, or after?’

‘Before! Duh… I tried to write down a time and date to bring her back AFTER you died… But she didn’t show…’

‘Okay… Okay… Okayokayokay… Okay, So! Why wouldn’t she show up after Sam killed me?’

‘Umm…’ Wendy thought about that. Up to now, she’d just blindly accepted that something changed; that for some reason, it didn’t work anymore. But why? She tried to put it together. ‘Maybe… Maybe when he killed you, he changed the future? Yeah, so in this reality, I die right now instead of later, so she isn’t able to come back for me…’

‘But if you die right now, then how would she have been able to come back in the first place? If this is the way the future goes, then how could she ever have existed?’

‘The future changed…’

‘No no no! Remember my notes! What did I say?’

‘Uh…’ Wendy racked her brain. ‘I don’t… There wasn’t anything in there about this. Just one part about you trying to fix a mistake and then something about a baby and some gladiator battle…’

‘The first one. The mistake. Do you remember what happened?’

‘Well… I remember you were pretty vague; what was the mistake again?’

‘Doesn’t matter. All that matters is what happened! What happened? Remember!’

‘Uh… Well… Didn’t you say it didn’t work for some reason? Right? Yeah… You said it didn’t work…’

‘Right!’

‘And then…’

‘Then?’

‘Then one time… You said you tried really really hard, and actually did change it… But even then, circumstances forced you to go back in time by your own free will, and change it back…’

‘Exactly. No matter what I did, no matter WHAT, fate intervened to set history on its proper course… Even when I succeeded in one place, another place failed. Eventually even I gave up.’

‘Okay… So what does that mean?’ Wendy forced herself to think. ‘What does that mean, how does it all connect?!? Does that mean no matter what I do, I’m gonna die here?’

‘No! It just means that there’s only one reality, Wendy. You can’t change the future more than an inch, and even if you do, it’ll iron out the wrinkles itself. It’ll stabilize… And… And now this is great! This is great! Because remember, you’ve seen the future!’

‘…The future where I become… Like, a time-travely warrior thing?’

‘Yeah! Where we’re mar—’

‘Shut up.’

‘Ah! Sorry. I mean…! …I mean that future-you must have come from a time after all this… After the wrinkles get ironed out. After reality stabilizes. Which means that after today, after whatever happens next, somehow that’s the reality that’ll remain. And that’s probably why she couldn’t come back to today! Because this time is fated to get decay out and disappear. Get replaced…’

‘But…’

‘But what?’

‘…But how? What do I do to do that?’

‘Umm…’ Dipper came up short. This was as far as his optimistic reasoning took him, and he really didn’t know what to say next. ‘Well… I… I dunno. Time logic says something has to happen… I think… I guess you might outsmart her, or you might outfight her, or outfox her or out-time her… Uh… Heck, it might not be you; maybe somebody else entirely will find a way to change things. But I’m pretty sure something has to happen sometime, and if you’re the last one left, then… It’s pretty much up to you… It’s like destiny or something.’

‘But… Are you sure? What if… I mean, you don’t know everything. Your journal doesn’t know everything. What if this is all just… Stupid wishful thinking…?’

‘…You tell me; are you sure that it was you last fall? The time traveler?’

‘…Yes.’

‘And…’ His voice would have faltered just slightly. ‘Are you sure that that future is something you want?’

‘Well…’ Wendy thought for a minute.

If he were here, he would be trying not to stare at her, but still hanging on her every word, waiting for her reply. He’d said all he could say, and now he wanted to know if she would fight to the bitter end. Whether or not she could still keep her faith, even when everything seemed to be standing in the way, even after everyone who could ever help was gone, even if unspeakably twisted beasts tried to cut their way into her mind. He wanted to know if she would be willing to fight to the death to save him. He wanted to know if she loved him.

Wendy almost laughed when she realized what was being said. ‘Well, duh! Come on dude, of course!’

He would have nodded nervously; he was still a little stressed, a little overwhelmed, a little frightened. But now, he knew how she felt. He knew her secret. He wished he didn’t know it, because yeah: it did make everything weird. But still, he knew that this weak and hopeless prisoner would one day be his wife.

He believed it.

So he would have found a way to smile, and ask. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Wendy awoke with a start.

Just a dream.

…Just a dream? Naw… Naw, wait a minute, why would I have been sleeping anyway? Blood loss? Shock? General weirdness? No, that’s no reason to sleep… And that wasn’t a normal dream either… I dunno, that must’ve been Dipper’s ghost or some crap! …Or a wizard. Or some kinda time-traveling pseudo-memories from a timeline that never happened. Or the Shifter using psychic powers to deceive me… Or maybe it was just some kinda weird, prophetic dream that happens because… Reasons…

Oh, who am I kidding? It was nothing! Nothing at all… Everyone knows dreams never mean anything at all.

Of course they don’t.

But meaning or not, it made sense. It actually made a whole gob of sense.

She believed it.

Wendy shook her head to clear the last of her confusion, then took a deep breath to prepare herself. Her nose was still totally clogged up, but at least the bleeding had stopped, and she’d gotten that blasted gag loose.

Please God. She thought to pray. Make it all true. Help this all turn out alright.

She began to breath really heavily and quickly. She’d heard of scuba divers doing this before a deep dive; it’s to flood the body with oxygen and give you more energy.

When she felt fully riled up, she threw her entire weight to the left, curled with her left arm and pulled on her right, trying with every ounce of strength to pull it loose. When the webs digging into her wrist became too excruciating to bear, she threw herself to the right and tried to pull her left arm loose. That didn’t work either.

Dang it.

She relaxed after a moment, defeated yet again.

But when she wiggled her shoulders, she found the bands to be loosened at least partially. Maybe if she tried again in a couple minutes, after her muscles stopped hurting, and then another couple minutes after that, and again after that… Maybe she could eventually get free? It all depended on how long the shifter would take to get back… What was taking so long, anyway?

“Thought I gagged you.” The voice interrupted.

Wendy jumped. The voice unnerved her, startled her, reminded her of the pain that was still so near, and filled her imagination with pain to come… Before Wendy had time to fear, she reminded herself that she angry.

Bitterly, furiously angry.

Wendy Corduroy. Angry Corduroy. Flippin’ Corduroy.

There was gonna be payment. There was gonna be pain.

“You do realize I was able to just reappear the split second I left, don’t you?” The monster asked, with a tone like a smirk.

Wendy’s voice came out rather calm. Surprisingly calm, even to her. “…Oh yeah, I knew that.” She nodded smoothly. “Simple time logic, that’s what that is… So hey, I guess you know my secret now? How you like it? Bet you’re pretty surprised to find out you’ve got a time traveler locked in your basement, huh?”

“No… Not really. I get all types…” The lights in the room flicked back on. They weren’t very bright all considering, but after perfect blackness, Wendy still felt like blinking. The monster gestured to one of the skeletons on the wall. The body was human; and seemed to have some kind of cybernetic thing hanging from one eye socket. Its torso was plated in dusty, dark grey armor. “That one was a time traveler too.” She said, as she wiped a bit of dust off the hourglass insignia on the breastplate. “Lieutenant something-or-another. Very brave old man, very proud. Wouldn’t speak a word besides his name and rank… At least at first. But he cried out for his mother days later, and now I know all that he knew.” She pointed to another human cyborg skeleton. “That one, also a time traveler. He was head of his class at the time-academy, but applied all that knowledge just three and a half seconds too late.” She pointed again, this time to the lanky, squid-like skeleton of one of the ship’s crewmembers. “And the clever nuclear engineer. He knew every single bolt and beam of this vessel, and yet he failed to hide from me. That one? Top security officer of the whole place. He didn’t want to surrender the drone control codes, but such is the way of things… That one? A most prestigious scientist, master of everything from nanobiology to embryotic mutation decay. One of the smartest men I’ve ever talked too, he almost convinced me not to eat him. And her? Ex-convict. Stowed away on the ship to escape a death sentence on her homeworld. She devised all kinds of clever ways to escape from me too, but you can see how they ended. That one?” The shifter pointed to a metal skeleton, with clawed hands, a mouthful of saws, and dead aluminum eyeballs that had never quite rotted. “You know him; maybe even met him… Yes? Last survivor of a colony of intelligent machines. He was a truly great man in his life. Intelligent. Determined. Prepared. And an entirely good and noble man as well, stood for nothing but truth, honor, and the safety and preservation of loved ones… But he’s gone like the rest… Such a shame.”

“Yeah.” Wendy shrugged. “Nice collection… But, uh… None of them were destined to kick your butt though.”

The shifter turned to her. “So.” Her voice grated menacingly, like the tearing of cloth. “You claim a future version of yourself came into your life and directed you to become who you are… I’m sure it was a strong and powerful woman that came striding forward, reaching out to you as if out of your imagination, out of a dream, a wish, a vision, and made itself come true… Except it didn’t. Over time, this hard life beat you right back down from the lofty heights it raised you to, until it has proven to be just a wish after all, just a fancy, a youthful dream…” She chuckled. “Really, the only surprising part of your story is that you would even consider your secret a secret. The only surprising thing was how defeated and dejected you acted when I extracted a piece of trivia so petty and meaningless…”

“Yeah, well…”

“Oh, wait… Hold on a moment; you still think it’s true, don’t you? Really! What a wild idea; that a thing could give rise to itself. And not just some twisted, random, chaotic thing, but a thing of beauty, pride, heroism… It must have a cause, but what? Who sent it? Who sent it to you, that you might send it to yourself? And if nobody sent it, then how and why would fate choose a wild, rebellious animal like a Corduroy? Didn’t it ever dawn on you that somebody’s been lying to you all along? Did it ever even cross your mind?”

The shifter’s voice broke and changed now. Wendy couldn’t quite place it; it sounded familiar from somewhere… But then her body began to shift and morph. Four legs became two. White mucus hardened into flesh. Hard, dark plates formed together, rose up, and interlocked into armor. Little bioluminescent lights began to glow in high-tech patterns, and features solidified on the face.

The eyes… The hair… The suit of futuristic robotic armor… Wendy stared.

“Look familiar?” The monster ran a gloved hand through her long red hair, smiled her freckled, adult face, and twirled a futuristic axe. “You get good enough at shapeshifting, you can start inventing forms. How do you like this one? All I had to go on was your own appearance, and a little imagination…”

Wendy stared, and blinked, and stared again. She found herself at a loss for words.

“Perhaps I’ll head back to last Fall with this, and say some nice things to you. To make you do all the helpful things you’ve done since… What do you think of that?”

Wendy didn’t speak.

“…Or…” A smile twitched at the corners of the mimic’s mouth. “Or do you still believe you know the future?”

Wendy thought about this, as she stared at the perfect image of her dream. The image rested a hand on its hip, and stood in that characteristically powerful, proud, relaxed way… It really, truly was exactly how she remembered it.

My future self.

The promises. The mission. The hope. The vision.

It was all lies…

No…

No.

“No…” Wendy said.

The mimic cocked its head.

“No…” Wendy repeated. “Wait… You’ve seen her.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve seen her! Seen me! That’s how you know what she looks like; you’ve met her… You’ve probably fought her, that’s it!” Wendy flexed her fingers, preparing to assault her bindings again. “You knew it all along! You’re trying to get in my head, trying to probe me and hurt me and BREAK me to prevent me from becoming who I AM, but you KNOW! You know the reason she didn’t show up this morning! It’s ‘Cause I’m gonna escape! This… This is destiny or something! I’m gonna fight my way across time and space to save my friends and my family, save the day, be the HERO! And then we’re gonna take what’s left of you, feed half to the pig and use the rest as VEGETABLE OIL!”

“YOU?” It scoffed, and gestured again to the skeletons. “When I’ve hunted and killed and eaten all who came before? Time travelers! Warriors! Scientists! Inventors! Heroes…! And now you! Hanging among the remains of better people, tell me:” Her voice rose to a screeching, furious, monstrous pitch as she raised her arm. The hand flattened itself, and sharpened into the fine edge of a large blade. Then she leapt at Wendy, lashing the deadly blade directly for her torso. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!?”

Wendy didn’t blink.

*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! *

The computer console in a corner of the room chimed loudly.

By some unforeseeable, freak act of fortune, the alarm seemed to distract the shifter for a fraction of a second.

The blade missed Wendy’s body.

“WARNING!” The console chimed, in a language that was most certainly not English. “INTRUDERS DETECTED INCONCLUSIVE REFERENCE CODE RETURN THREAT LEVEL UPGRADED TO JELLY ROLL ONE: ERROR 443\]kl;/oij#JE’~~3Dde~~~”

The Shifter spun toward the computers and began to head toward them, outraged at the improbable, incredible, inconceivable timing of the interruption.

Wendy realized that the blade had actually severed most of the webs.

She threw herself forward, and her left arm ripped free. Her right arm followed it. Then she grabbed a sharp scrap of metal, and with one long slice tore through the material on her legs.

With a final push, her boots landed on the ground with a dull thud.

She stood up.

The Shifter glanced back at the human. She saw the tangled, matted hair, the faded blue hat, the clenched fists, the blood-stained lip, the furious little scowl, and the dark, murderous thoughts behind those green eyes. She thought that this was getting a little too complicated and improbable for a standard hostage situation; she should probably time-travel back by about 5 minutes, to find out the source of the alarm ahead of time, and undo her accidental severing of the human’s bonds.

Quickly though, before something worse happened.

But she was too late, because something worse was already happening.

There was a brilliant blue flash of light,

a tiny yellow machine was suddenly flying through the air,

And Wendy caught it.

“Who do I think I am? Funny you should ask that…” Wendy smiled, as she ad-libbed a plan.

“I’m a flippin’ Pines.”

#The Forest Of Daggers #wendip #wendy x dipper #gravity falls #scifi #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #shapeshifter #see you next summer #fanfiction #fanart #alien #robot #ghost #wendipweek #dang I didn't realize how dark this was when I was writing it. But now that I drew the picture... Daaaaang.

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