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heyitsyn · 4 years

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Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 1

a/n: this is a mini-series that are based off of your asks and once i,,,,, finish,,,, my seijoh phase, i will also do this for the other schools but pls take these offerings in the meantime as i work on the next part of my manager!seijoh and the time traveler au

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon request:

Wow, your series of Seijoh managers is so cute.🥺👉👈 After starting to read, I can only think about Oikawa and y / n on a Saturday night seeing mean girls, painting nails, taking care of the skin and the another day Oiks rubbing the face of everyone who spends much more time with his dear businessman LMAOO Anyway, congratulations on your work 💕💕 seriously, I LOVE this series omg-

I MIGHT BE AN IWA AND KYO STAN BUT OIKS IS DEFINITELY THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND PRETTIEST DUMPSTER IVE EVER SEEN

yep lets start the pilot

so basically, oikawa was being oikawa again

what might i mean, you ask

well, he was starting to work much harder than before since this was his last ever inter-high and his last ever chance on beating ushiwaka

even though they finally have the team assembled avengers assemble! with kyo back on the team, he still felt lacking and wanted to use every single free time to work on becoming better

yall fun fact about me, oikawa is actually my favorite character bc of how hard he works and the pain i have in that once scene during the karasuno match when he slammed into the tables and was struggling to get up bc of his knee----NO IM SOBBING AGAIN

iwa noticed him doing this again so he sent you out to drag him out and distract him from this

‘cmon oikawa-san-’

‘NO, Y/N-CHAN! I HAVE TO-’

‘no, the only thing you have to do is spend time with me bc i miss you and i want to have that movie you kept talking about’

bahahaha he is so whipped that a single ‘i miss you’ from you will literally make him break his back and bend for you

it was successful and you were in your room, your parents understanding oikawa and his antics since youve complained about it before, and he was sitting on your floor while looking through movies

‘y/n-chan, do you have no alien movies in here? or barbie?’

IN MY CONTENT, IT IS CANON THAT OIKAWA LOVES THE BARBIE MOVIES FITE ME

you laughed from your spot on your bed and shook your head

‘no, oikawa-san. natsu took all my barbie movies and i get scared of alien movies’

he pouted but continued to look until his eyes literally lit up

it was like god took a picture of him and you saw the flash

‘MEAN GIRLS! Y/N-CHAN I DIDNT KNOW YOU LIKED THIS TYPE OF MOVIE!’

he shrieked but you shrugged

‘meh. katsuki, natsu’s boyfriend, gave it to natsu as a joke but he gave it to me instead bc he cannot stand regina george’

you reasoned while picking out nail polish colors and looking through the ingredients of your face masks

‘WE’RE WATCHING THIS! PERIODT!’

omg hes so loud but i am too so we compatible

ugh i hate my logic

then later,

as the movie played, you were arguing with oikawa as he refused to wear the unicorn and wanted the panda one, which was your favorite

‘OIKAWA-SAN, I LIKE THIS ONE!’

‘Y/N-CHAN I LIKE IT MORE!’

you sucked in a sharp breath before relenting bc you wanted oikawa to be relaxed per request of your beloved senpai

‘fine. but i get to paint your nails’

he nodded eagerly and you handed him the packet, to which he simply stared at it

‘y/n-chan, can you,,,, put it on me?’

he sheepishly asked and you gave him a confused and bewildered look

‘oikawa-san, have you never put these on yourself?’

he shook his head, cheeks flushing and eyes focusing on the blue blanket

‘my sister always put it on for me. or iwa-chan’

‘IWA-?! wHAT-?!’

but you nodded anyways and he made you sit on his lap to put it on

‘um, oikawa-san, this position-’

he smiled at you, a gentle and real smile, not the ones for his fangirls

‘nuh uh, its fine, y/n-chan. oikawa-san loves you so he likes you right here’

he mumbled, blushing and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer making you giggle and nod

‘okay. close your eyes then, oikawa-san’

he excitedly nodded, expecting a kiss from you but you flicked his forehead making his eyes fly open and wince at the pain

‘so perverted, oikawa-san. pervert-oikawa-san’

you scolded and he pouted

he said something but you didnt listen, instead placing the mask on his face and smoothing it out

his fringe was about to touch the wet material so you hastily grabbed a clip and held his hair up

he looked so cute that you couldnt help but reach over and snap a picture of him

‘ara ara gomen did y/n-chan just take a picture of oikawa-san?’

he teased but you shook your head

‘no. what are you talking about?’

he did the same thing to you and now you were both painting each other’s nails, ofc staying loyal to your school mint green and baby blue on the ring fingernail

lmao dont blast me for not being exact w the school colors but it looks mint green to me

he finished yours first and omg?? hes so??? good?? like what???

you were holding his large hands with your small fingers and his heart started thumping really fast at the simple touch

‘thank you,,,,, y/n-chan’

you looked up to him with large eyes, still unfamiliar with the softness of his voice

it was such a contrast compared to his usually loud and obnoxious, mocking tone

‘oikawa-san is not a really good captain since he burdens and bothers everyone but you always fix it all and keep everyone together. so, sorry for everything’

he mumbled and the eye holes from the mask let you see his sad eyes, genuinely sad about himself

you made the last paint stroke and capped the nail polish before leaning forwards, hands on his thigh so you could be closer

oikawa ofc freaked out because wow youre so much prettier up close and he doesnt?? deserve you??

your eyes blazed with anger and he stuttered your name but you cut him off

‘OIKAWA-SAN IS NOT USELESS. HE IS A REALLY GOOD CAPTAIN WHO LED HIS TEAM TO BATTLE THE ULTIMATE RIVAL AND EVEN THOUGH THEY LOST, THEY STILL WON IN MY EYES. YOU GOT KENTA-KUN TO COME BACK EVEN THOUGH HE DIDNT WANT TO BUT HE DID BC HE KNOWS HOW GOOD YOU ARE. HE WANTS TO PLAY ALONGSIDE A PLAYER WHO DESERVES TO BE ON THE COURT AND EVERYONE ELSE THINKS THE SAME THING. ME, Y/N, IS JUST A MANAGER WHO MIGHT NOT KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT VOLLEYBALL OR THE TECHNIQUES AND ALL THAT BUT I RECOGNIZE YOUR TALENT AND YOU WILL MAKE IT BIG SOMEDAY, OIKAWA-SAN! I PROMISE! AND WHEN YOU DO, I WILL SUPPORT YOU AND COME TO YOUR GAMES BC YOU ARE MY CAPTAIN AND I DONT REGRET EVER MEETING YOU. SO DONT APOLOGIZE AND SAY SORRY TO ME, INSTEAD TELL ME YOU ARE HAPPY TO BE IN THIS TEAM AND SAY YOU LOVE THE TEAM AND YOU LOVE VOLLEYBALL AND YOU LOVE-’

but he cut you off, placing a chaste kiss on your exposed nose

yall really thought it was the,,,, speaking function part of your face

nahnahnah that is only for the doggie

oop what

you stopped, flustered at the sudden action but oikawa smiled

‘i love you, y/n. i really love you so give me a chance, okay? i will wait, no matter how long it takes but,,,, let me catch up and for now, think about me, okay?’

BRUH HOW IS THAT RELEVANT TO HER LONG RANT LIKE WHAT---

you tilted your head to the side, confused

she is deadass naive like bls protect her

‘a chance for what? you want to catch up for what? youre already good, oikawa-san’

then he laughed

so much more different than the ones he let out in public

it was so,,,, beautiful

you found yourself grinning with him and he calmed down, brushing away the stray hairs that is in danger of getting stuck on your mask

‘come on, y/n-chan. lets go take this off’

he stood up and offered his hand which you took

after the moisturizing and final touch-ups for your skin, you finally settled on the blanket fort and dozed off, the movie still playing but you were too comfortable in oikawa’s arms that you didnt even notice the credits rolling

the next day, you didnt feel the need to mention it at all

but oikawa did and it was still truly an accident

iwa heard about him staying late again and you having to drag him out of there and he was hitting him and kicking him again

you were so used to this that you were just writing down your notes at the corner, oblivious to oikawa’s crying

finally, he had enough of it

‘SEE THIS IS WHY Y/N-CHAN DOESNT LET YOU SPEND THE NIGHT WITH HER! BECAUSE YOU ARE SO MEAN!’

um, sire what did you just say

that was completely taken out of context and everyone, omg, especially iwa and kyo just froze

‘what,,, did you just say?’

iwa asked in a dangerously low voice and you shrugged

‘you told me to distract him, iwa-san, so i did. he was happy and satisfied and thats all that matters, right?’

you shot them a smile and oiks had such a smug smile when iwa looked at him and he was about to hit him when kyo just came out of nowhere and YEETED the smile off of his face

oikawa screamed

just a wittle blurb about this bc i totally love this :( and he totally needs more love and some of my readers love oikawa and want oikawa manager content so here it is!!! feast on these crumbs!!!!

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cuddlesslut · 4 years

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Alrighty lets get started!! So i still really new to this so as to not overwhelm my self im going to try and stick to two charcters for now. I’m sorry if its not what your looking for. For the two im going to do my boys Suga and Daichi. Only because i just did Kuroo and because im still trying to figure out how to write for Reon. I might however come back and write a part 2 with them.

Prompt : Boys reacting to their tom boyish crushes all dolled up (Daichi & Suga)

just sayin i wrote this while drinking mojitos

P.S. this prompt reminds me of a series called Sinful Sweethearts by @thosenerdy3amthings so definitely go check that out!!

Warning: NSFW, FOUL LANGUAGE

Daichi Sawamura NSFW

you have know Daichi basically your whole life

growing up next to him your parents were very close which meant that you two were kept close together

in fact until you made it to middle school and started playing volleyball for the girls team you had never had any other friends beside Diachi

so it was safe to say that growing up you were more on the boyish side

you were just more comfortable in sweats and baggy workout shorts than skirts.

you even wore pants to school

even highschool though you went to a different school Diachi stayed your closest friend you often finding yourself at the Karsuno practice after yours had ended.

No matter how much your teammates fussed they couldnt convince you to ditch the large hoodies and sweats.

You and Daichi always supported each other. you never missed his games and he never missed yours (as long as scheduling permited)

the third year boys often teased Diachi for his realtionship with you

“i dont know why yall dont just date already,” suga complained while daichi stated his usual reply “ shes my best friend you know its not like that” he huffs

Suga scowls “ first of all rude im supposed be your best friend, and second it cant be as just friends as you say when you get so protective when the seond years simp for her.”

“i just dont want her feeling weird around the team. you know Noya and Tanaka can be intense,” he explained

“still that doesnt acount for the way Y/N looks at you,” Asahi added to the convo

“what are you talking about Y/n doesnt look at me any special way, we’re just friends ,” daichi stated a little to forcefully almost as if he was convincing himself.

Suga and Asahi share a knowing look thinking about how their captain can be so dense.

“any way are you ready for your birthday party tomorrow night ,” Suga asked smiling brightly.

“i told you i dont need a party,” Daichi scolded for the fifth time today.

“ahh c’mon its not everyday you become an adult like the rest of us DI,”

finally admitiing defeat Diachi concluded the conversation.

...

it was finally the next day you were more nervous for this party than any volleyball game you had played.

and here you were standing in the tight black dress Suga with the help of your team, you should never wager against suga

Had convinced you to wear to diachis party tonight

still shell shocked you stood in front of the mirror of the bathroom Suga had chose.

It was weird to see yourself so girly

the black dress clung tight to your body. leaving little the imagination.

Suga better be glad he won that bet

finally calming yourself you look around for your best friend

Finally catching sight of him Diachi stood with Suga and Asahi next to the bar of the club.

Suga was the first to recognize you a evil smirk hitting his face as he drew Diachis attention to you.

You couldnt help but notice how hot he looked in his button up and dark wash jeans, his shirt clinging so close to his chest.

he looked to damn good you thought as you bit your lip

little did you know the birthday boy was having an epiphany of this own

his eyes raked up and down you mind wandering

had you always had such a great ass under those baggy sweats

“Happy Birthday Captain,” you teased.

Daichi took a sharp breath suddenly taken back by the way the title fell from your soft lips

all he could think about was how you would sound screaming that from under him.

lost in thought he missed the smirk his best friend had as Suga put his pan into motion

you stood there sway to the beat of the loud club music wanting to dance

“Y/n why dont you take the birthday boy for a dance,”

you smiled before Diachi could protest saying how how he doesnt dance

you pulled him to the dance floor pushing your ass against him reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him close to your body as you grinded to the beat

his hands found their place on your hips

his cock twitched from the pressure of your ass in that short tight dress rubbing against his crotch

you were not helping his growing situation

bodies getting lost in the movement

you looked up at the boy had been your best friend your whole life with one thought in you head

the same thought flashed into diachis brain

being bold he crashed his lips into yours

Lost in the contact the kiss lasted forever getting more and more intense

your not sure how you to got here

but here you were straddling Diachi in the back of his car

his lips sucking bruises into your neck, his large grabbing your ass as you bounced on his thick cock

“FUCK,” Daichi breathed heavily pulling you down into a sloppy kiss tongues exploring “ youre so tight come for me beautiful.”

“im so close Captain you moan feeling him stretch you.

thats it that one word flipped the switch for him he gripped tight on to your waist to hold you secure as he powerfully drilled his hips up into you.

hitting your spot deeper and with such accuracy you were both driven over the edge as you clinched tight around him pulling his release from him.

you both sat out of breath in the hot car, the widows fogged and the smell of sex stinging the air.

“happy birthday,” you said giving him a quick kiss.

he glanced at the watch on his wrist

he smirked up to you “you know my birthday isnt over yet,” you smiled already liking where this was going. “lets head back to mine. I’m not done with you yet.”

Koshi Sugawara Slight NSFW

He’s had a crush for you since the beginning of the school year

He thought you were the most adorable thing he’d seen

with your sweaters that were two sizes to big. (sweater paws)

You two became friends through a writing project.

you too quickly hit it off you loving his wild humor

its sometimes seemed like hed flirt with you but you figured it was just his personality and you were too shy to do anything

poor suga spent so much time flirting with you but you never paid it any attention so he figured you didnt view him that way and he was okay with that he just wanted to be your friend if nothing else.

and so thats how six months went by of being no more than friends

always returning Sugas simple firsts with a shy smile.

It wasnt until the celebratory party some random third year threw to congratulate the boys on making it to nationals

You sat at your best friend Kyioko’s house.

This was the first party she was able to convince you to attend and she was making sure it counted.

there would be no big sweaters or jeans tonight

tonight you were borrowing Kyiokos clothes.

She dressed in a tight (favorite color) lace halter crop top with the lace exposing just the right amount of cleavage. and a pair of blaack shorts hugging your hips thighs on full display.

it wasnt what you were used to this being the most skin you had exposed to the public in years

thats coupled with the make up added to your face you almost didnt recognize yourself

it wasnt what you were used to and thats why when you reached the party and all eyes landed on you. you were slightly relieved that most of the people didnt recognize you.

it was almost exhilarating

kind of like playing pretend.

like tonight you werent Y/N shy and closed off

you were a sexy and confident woman

that coupled with the shots you took with Kyioko. you found your new confidence

thats why when you saw you long time crush and close friend Suga across the room you didnt hesitate to make your way over.

“No way is that Y/n” Daichi gasped causing Sugas attention to slip to where his best friend motioned. “wow i didnt expect to see her here,” Diachi let out with a low whistle.

Suga sucked in a sharp breath not prepared for the sight in front of him.

There you were making you way towards him throw the crowd. a smile on your face but it was hard for suga to focus on that smile when your whole body was on display for him.

His eyes trailed from down your figure taking all of the exposed skin that was normally hidden from him.

the way the lace framed your stomach and cupped your breast. the cut into shirt showing him the most cleavage you had ever shown. moving his eyes down it was hard for him not to whimper at the site of your thighs

this man was entranced in your appearance. hed always thought you were the most beautiful even when you were covered head to toe, but seeing you like this it was hard not to drool.

And he wasnt the only one, Several guys had taken notice of you.

Some stopping you to ask if you were new, cause there was no way’d theyd miss a hot babe like you at school.

to which youd just roll your eyes keeping on your way to your target.

feeling more and more emboldened by the attention you were receiving.

but these boys werent the ones you wanted

being the light weight you are you already had your eyes on your prize

go big or go home

so you you strode right up to the vice captain

“ W- wow Y/n you look great,” Suga stuttered

“thanks Suga,” you say placing your hand on his toned forearm

No turning back now the confidence was here to stay atleast for now

Suga took a deep breath as he took a turn being the shy one. not used to the aura you exuded. were you really the shy girl he knew.

you moved closer enveloping him in a tight embrace

he could feel you tits press tight against him and he was trying not to focus on it not wanting to further anymore of the dirty thoughts crossing his mind

staying close next to Suga you continued your flirtatious assault

dishing back all the flirts you had held back over the months

Finally the straw broke when one of your favorite club songs played through the crowed house and you pulled him close to dance with you.

“c’mon Koshi dont be so timid,” you teased.

Suga wasnt sure if it was hearing his given name grace your beautiful lips or the facts that you had pressed your ass against his crotch moving seductively to the music but he snapped.

Suga placed his hands tight to your hips pulling you closer to him not caring if you felt the growing bulge in his pants.

leaning down “you know if you wanted my attention you didnt have to dress so damn sexy. now i have to deal with all these vultures looking at you,” he whispered his breath hot on your ear.

you turned around wrapping your arms around his neck leaning even closer,

“then why dont we go somewhere private then we wont have to worry about who’s looking,” you smirked heart racing

“i couldnt have said it better,” Suga said leading you out of the busy room ready to have you to himself.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Sorry It took so long to write all my work got deleted and I had to start over! I hope you enjoy it 🍵 Anon!!! 💕💕 @🍵anon

Taglist: @emiyummy @insomniish

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #daichi x reader #diachi sawamura #diachi head cannons #sugawara x reader #suga headcanons #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara koshi #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #🍵 anon

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the-c0rinthian · 4 years

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It’s been a hot minute since I’ve done a post like this. These are my personal beliefs. If you plan on arguing any of them, be respectful or leave. If any of these make you uncomfortable, please unfollow me. If any of these make you vehemently angry for no real reason, block me.

This is about to be a hot mess

- Black Lives Matter. Eat The Rich. ACAB.

- The safety of minorities matters more than the hurt feelings of their oppressors

- Trans and nonbinary people don't owe anyone passing, presentation, gender conformity, or medical transition

- Self-dx is okay (especially in the case of autism, adhd, and DID) People know their brains better than you do

- Cancel culture is toxic. It denies someone the room to grow, and learn from their past mistakes. This doesn't apply to people with violent or harmful beliefs that are spreading them carelessly by using a large platform, one that they were given by the people their beliefs are harming (looking at you, jkr)

- Trender means someone who is knowingly, and willingly pretending to be trans. You have no way of knowing if someone is pretending, So stop fucking calling trans/nonbinary people trenders.

- People of any age experimenting with gender are not a problem, and are definitely not trenders. So again, /stop calling trans and nonbinary people trenders!/

- I know this one is a lil controversial. Dysphoria and Incongruence are the same thing, incongruence is a useless term that just means less intense dysphoria. Dysphoria and Euphoria are two sides of the same coin. If you didn't experience one, you'd never recognize the other for what it is. Dysphoria/Euphoria levels fluctuate between person to person, meaning someone who is 99% euphoric and 1% dysphoric is just as trans as someone who is 99% dysphoric and 1% euphoric.

- Dysphoria is not self hatred! Stop saying it is.

- Ace/Aro people? Beautiful and Valid. Also lgbt+

- Pan and Bi mean essentially the same thing, /but the difference in label matters to some people, stop forcing other people to use your label/. Be careful of both pan and biphobia. We lift each other up, not put each other down.

- Every label we use started out as a slur. Don't call someone a label they aren't comfortable with, but also respect the label someone uses for themselves.

- Use whatever pronouns you want as long as you're respectful ig

- Misgendering is not some heinous crime, if its done accidentally. Please remember that the average person is going to misgender you if your presentation is societally different from your gender. Politely correct them, and then if they refuse, get upset. Accidental misgendering happens. People slip up, your friend's will slip up. Politely correct them, chances are they didn't mean to. Please remember that people are human, and human's make mistakes.

- Children are people too, you'd think I wouldn't have to say this but the amount of people on this site who treat children like hellspawns or parasites or whatever is alarming. They're little people, their behavior is a reflection of their parents. Be kind to them. Even if you don't particularly like them.

- "Problematic" topics in fiction are not a problem. They aren't promoting, or condoning anything. Im sure the writer of the unwind series didn't approve of using unruly children as organ farms (its a great book series actually, check it out.) Im sure every murder mystery writer doesnt approve of actual real murder. Fiction is a safe place to explore these topics, and the effects they might have on people. More often than not, people writing about these dark topics have gone through something similar and use the fiction to vent/cope/better understand what happened to them. As long as something is properly tagged, its not an issue. Fictional people do not matter more than real people.

- Stop sending death threats/sui-baiting/gore/ect. It's childish, and also a crime! On that note stop insulting people based on appearance. It adds nothing to your argument and makes you seem like a petty immature child.

- Pets being outside supervised is fine. But also if you leave your prey pet outside, unsupervised, and unprotected, then don't get mad at someone else when their unsupervized animal eats it.

- If you are not a part of a minority, you get no say in what is/isnt bigotry towards them. Listen to people who are actually the minority, uplift their voice, and shut up about things you don't understand.

- If you're going to ask questions, try to be as respectful about it as possible. Most people are going to be understanding of botched/unintentionally insensitive wording.

- Autism Speaks is trash. Support ASAN instead. Better yet, just support autistic people, individually.

- Autism and ADHD manifest in so many different ways. Stop telling people they dont look/act "autistic" because they don't have the stereotypical traits.

- If you need it to live, it should be free.

-No one needs guns. If no one had guns, no one would need a gun to protect themselves.

-Terfs/Swerfs/Radfems are not allowed on my blog. Feminism is supposed to make everyone equal, Therefore, feminism is for everyone.

- Punch nazis.

#ayden rants

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red-elric · 4 years

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i loved your kureno meta so damn much! do you think you could write something on shigure too please? He's my favorite.

okay i love love love love LOVE shigure and im sorry it took a couple days to get back to you on this! im really feeling the dad shigure vibes rn so i hope its okay if i ramble about that for a little while :)

SHIGURE FUCKIN SOHMA. this slutty lil bitch boy, this conniving creep pulling the strings behind the plot.............. im onto u!!! i see the way you treat the kids you interact with! shigure sohma........... has a soft spot for kids, and acts as a genuine father figure for quite a few of them :))

we’ll go in increasing father figure order for a bit, for funsies. lets start with kisa and hiro! i’ll be honest, there’s not much of a relationship between these two and shigure; they dont seem to interact much, except when the kids visit tohru at his house. however, i can think of a few times when shigure has doted on kisa or teased hiro about being a kid, for seemingly no reason at all. he seems like an uncle to them, an image that is further reinforced when he gossips with hatori about the drama going on in their lives; kisa’s bullying, akito finding out about them, etcetera. i bet he buys them candy, the big softie <3

lets talk about shigure and kyo for a little bit! so, kyo HAS a clear father figure in his life: kazuma. as such, we don’t see shigure filling that role for him very often. the only times i can think of are very early on, before the true form arc and kazuma’s introduction. the key scene that comes to mind? when they talk about a chance that there is someone out there who might love kyo. that always seemed like a fatherly thing to say, to me, although shigure kind of ruined the effect by saying it as if it were a challenge or a tease. honestly? i kinda get the impression that these two dont really get along, however. other than yuki and kyo, these two fight more than anyone else in the house--just verbally, underhandedly, rather than physically. still, shigure is willing to talk to kyo about his life and take him to things like entrance tests, and thats more than you might expect from someone who ‘only cares about akito and himself,’ which is what i see his character reduced as a lot (and also the impression im sure he’d like us to see).

shigure and yuki......... holy shit. shigure is the first adult that yuki learns to trust, however sparingly, and i will stand by that. (yuki CERTAINLY doesnt trust his parents, for good reason; he’s on bad terms with his brother at the start of the story, and hatori has given him good reason not to trust him by erasing the memories of yuki’s friends. meanwhile, shigure is the one who took yuki out of the room with akito and gave him a place to live, no matter shigure’s intentions at the time.) i doubt yuki trusted shigure as an adult easily, or that shigure made it any easier for him; however, i fully believe these two spent a lot of time talking together before tohru came to the house, and probably after as well. shigure is the one who set the groundwork for yuki’s growth, however unintentionally, by taking him out of the main house. he’s the one who provided yuki with a safe place to live and a safe school to go to, and that shouldnt be underestimated.

but damn, does none of that hold a candle to shigure and tohru’s daddy daughter relationship. i dont give a shit about the jokes shigure makes “flirting” with her; this man cares about tohru like she’s his own daughter, no matter how he tries to hide it. he’s CONSTANTLY calling her cute, cheering her up, offering deep and profound advice, and gossiping with her when the angsty duo they live with are bringing the mood down. when she hears her grandfather has collapsed, he immediately recognizes that she’d have a hard time asking anyone else to go in her grandfather’s stead, and that her own family isn’t very reliable, so he takes the phone from her and immediately takes care of it for her, offering to go in her grandfather’s stead. when he overhears her anxieties about her future? he gives her some of the best, parental advice in the entire series. when he’s thinking about akito and all the drama he’s been putting into motion, he repeatedly indicates that hurting tohru is the one potential outcome of his plans that he might regret. he says he wishes he’d dreamed of someone like her, for crying out loud; he wishes he could focus on platonic relationships, that he could be a better man who could take care of the girl who sees him as a father. he loves her so damn much, and guess what? she loves him right back. because tohru had never in her life had a strong father figure in her life, not since katsuya died. she couldnt even consider his spirit as a father figure, because she resented him for what his death did to her mother. most of tohru’s friends growing up relied on her much more than she relied on them, including hana and uo in middle school. by the time kyoko died, tohru’s grandfather was at an age where he needed to be taken care of, and had to stay with her extended family--who doesnt care about her--instead of offering his support, no matter how he may have wanted to. when tohru started living with the sohmas, she was longing for a parental figure, but probably unable to accept one similar to her mother, due to grief; but shigure, so very different from her mother but still clearly caring for her, fit that bill perfectly. he has helped her time and time again, and their relationship is one of the most beautiful in the series, in my opinion.

thank you for listening to me ramble about daddy shigure :)

#it me #meta #fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #shigure sohma #tohru sohma #kyo sohma #yuki sohma #kisa sohma #hiro sohma

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everydayanth · 5 years

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The Liam Neeson Thing...

Okay guys, this is gonna get complex and personal right quick. But it’s been bothering me and I’m working on posting more without thinking about it for two weeks until nobody cares anymore.

So here goes.

Context matters. Context is important and it can be complicated, but it freakin’ matters.

In my opinion, Liam Neeson’s flaw was that he thought a rapist would be the kind of person to also attack him.

Here’s the thing guys, if you’ve never heard someone you love confess to you that they have been irrevocably hurt by a person, you need to take a step back for a minute.

That moment, talking about it, it’s extremely vulnerable, so this is a bit hard for me, but in a moment of chaos and torment, a person you love and care deeply for is breaking apart in front of you and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it. There’s not a damn thing you can do but hold them and cry with them and hurt for them and try to help and figure out the right thing to say.

And when they’re tucked safe in bed and you’re researching what you can do for them or laying awake thinking about what you could possibly say, the amount of guilt and hurt and anger hits you in the chest, it fills you so wholly that you just need to find a way to let it out. It’s a dangerous rage, it’s immature and unhealthy and so so so painful.

We don’t talk about emotions in America. We just don’t. So of course we want to put this emotion into a context we discuss, and idea we understand.

But it’s not an -ism, it’s an emotion.

If you don’t think when my sister told me about our cousin assaulting her that I didn’t wander around my ghetto ass neighborhood waiting for some big white guy to try to hurt me, well, you’d be wrong. Our brain makes patterns, my cousin didn’t live in our city, but I knew he was a big white guy with a shitty pencil beard, my brain classified that as a pattern. Every time I talked to a big white guy, I had to check myself, yeah. But when my brain registered a human who looked like my cousin, my heart rate ran up and I would will them to attack me. I wanted to fight because I didn’t know what else to do with all that pain, all that helpless emotion. But I could wander around places where someone was bound to get hurt anyway and invite the fight to me.

Neeson was wandering around areas inviting a fight. INVITING, not instigating. It is a common reaction of revenge and feeling hurt, and we’re shoving this idea into something familiar - outrage, racism, etc., anything so we don’t have to actually talk about emotions.

He was looking for a “black bastard,” poor choice of words, I agree, but he was hoping that guy, the one who hurt his friend, would challenge him, and it would just happen to be the same guy and he could get his anger out. It’s not healthy, but if they man who hurt his friend had been white and he’d wandered around lower class white neighborhoods inviting a fight, would it have been racism?

This had an opportunity to be a conversation about what the fuck you do around a friend who confesses they were raped and hurt to you. After all the #MeToo (or in the midst of it), how do you be a friend to your loved ones who feel ready to confess to you? What do you do to manage that amount of disgust you feel at the world, that rage and hate and hurt and horror that there’s not a single damn thing you can do?

This could have been a conversation about grief and friendship and growth and complex emotions. But we made it about the race of a rapist instead.

That’s how much we don’t want to talk about feelings.

We would focus on a man talking for the first time about the anger of helplessness in the face of a friend’s pain and come out in outrage.

Here’s the reality guys, racism is forming a series of patterns based on skin color that aren’t true. They can be based off stereotypes or influenced by false representation in sensational news. Racism is NOT fighting your brain’s reality in order to form a more balanced understanding of the world. I was assaulted by a bunch of black kids at a playground when I was 14, it was terrifying and it’s a long and complex story but the short of it is very simple: I lived in a black neighborhood and this was not my only experience with black kids. I went to school with middle class black kids and I hung out with other black kids, this was NOT my only experience, and therefore, my brain was capable of nixing the pattern before it was created. Black kids weren’t dangerous, those kids were just assholes.

Racism is if Neeson went to those places and started fights. I can’t know whether he did or not, but it’s if he went around and accused every black man of being a rapist, in his head or otherwise. I didn’t have a lot of experience with big white guys, so it took me much longer not to feel nervous around them than it did to write off my brain’s pattern about the black kids. Emotions and how our brains work are important details for us to know, and it’s the real reason diversity matters, it keeps our patterns in context. Neeson coming out of the situation horrified at himself shows growth of emotion, the dismissal of the pattern, recognizing that it is false without acting on it, understanding the power of agency is an illusion because he would never find that particular man.

Comparing this to the policing issues isn’t the same, because of their place in society, their home culture society, and the results of their opinions. A police officer has a responsibility to the public to understand their emotions and their racial biases, an actor is responsible for displaying emotion. We can’t hold these people to the same accountability, that would be ridiculous, for a police officer, emotions need to be stable and understood and should involve a LOT more psychology training. For an actor... they entertain us with their emotions. They need to be self aware and reflective in order to project our experiences in stories. We still expect race car drivers to follow the speed limits and we understand that doctors have to call in sick sometimes, the world isn’t fair and occupation doesn’t dismiss personal biases or professional demeanor, but context matters. A doctor calling in sick after handling small pox in a lab requires observation and questions, an actor talking about rage and looking for a fight when he was younger and confessing horror at that version of himself while promoting a film about revenge kind of seems like part of the job, of doing the job well.

And it’s not racist because it was not instigated by the color of skin as perceived by an individual to be less or more - he was inviting a fight with a black man on the word of his friend. That was wrong, and so was me doing it with large white men (also because I am not that large of a white woman, so that wasn’t going to end well for me), but he even said in a follow up interview that they could have killed him. The interviewer says she thinks of the innocent black man that could have been killed and Neeson responds “Or he could have killed me.” BUT HE WASN’T INSTIGATING FIGHTS, he was INVITING them! He wasn’t looking for an innocent man, he was waiting for someone to try to hurt him so he could release the extreme emotions. These are different. These are SO different.

This conversation can go back to what it could have been. Race of the rapist aside, what do you do when a person you love confides in you that they have been hurt and scared and they are breaking apart in front of you? How do you process your emotions and heartbreak? What can you do or say? How can you feel like you’re helping? Is that selfish? Why do we need to feel like we’re helping? How do you manage your own trauma so you don’t loop theirs in with yours? How do you self reflect so that you stop your brain forming false patterns when you’re filled with so much hurt and pain? How do you not become a villain of the world, hating everyone for always telling you you are helpless? How do you find control in yourself when you’re imploding and be responsible and mature with emotions? How do you talk about it in a society that wants to be angry? How do you not hate them for focusing on your reaction to a rapist rather than being angry with an individual for being an asshole and RAPING your friend?

How do we return to a conversation about emotions and how, unchecked, they can lead to pain and anger and rage, and eventually, if we don’t have a moment of clarity and rationality, if we are not balanced in the world, they can become biases that develop into ignorance and racism? How do we focus on context so that we don’t become arrogant and disconnected, classists by nature because we interact with such a small and similar world? How do we connect and talk about the human experience when society turns away from us in favor of what is familiar? How do we have a logical discussion about emotion when we can’t even talk about meaning and intent? How do we accuse someone of racism when, had the rapist been white, the conversation might have focused on the context of emotion and pain and hurt and the process of healing - it was the outraged audience that pointed at the race as important, as the meaningful factor, how do we look at that hypocrisy and not feel utterly defeated?

How do we scream at the world that we need help, we all need help, without crucifying ourselves? I have no idea, this post is terrifying and I have no idea what to expect. Maybe nothing would be good? To return to not a single note or like or comment, to be unheard and dismissed and navigated around might be good because I want to talk about this reality but it. Is. Terrifying.

And maybe it’s all a projection. Maybe I’m the racist and I want to defend someone I relate to. But it feels more right that we as a society don’t talk about emotions, we lock them up like these secret things we’re terrified other people will discover. I’m working on vulnerability lately, and what better place to talk about all the shit that’s ever happened to me than the freakin’ internet! I’m just a person and from my experiences, I think I understand what Neeson meant. But that could equally be a self-aggrandizing reality that doesn’t exist. Perhaps he’s just a racist, a professional actor with a successful career who took this exact moment to reveal his true colors, what a sneaky man!

But more probably, the logic says, he’s a professional actor with a successful career who took this moment to discuss the emotions he’s had to reflect on and relive for the past year or so in order to play a role in a film that he hopes will entertain and reflect something of the human experience. He more probably took the moment to discuss a human experience and we did not listen because it’s more popular not to listen or because we could not relate or because we just want to be angry and sometimes pulling weeds is so exhausting we raze the whole garden instead. We did not talk about the moment he was horrified with himself because we don’t want to talk about growth or greys, we want the world to stabilize so we can see the bad guys clearly.

We really ought to know by now that there are no clear bad guys.

And we know Neeson likes to play in those lines. What is good? What is bad? They aren’t a duality, they are a false dichotomy, created by whatever world you grew up in, whatever experiences you had, whatever your society or culture told you, whatever education you discovered, and whatever philosophy you’ve come to believe. But in a moment of vulnerable confession, in all that grey reality, your friend tells you about a bad guy and they become singularly bad. They don’t exist beyond that. And that’s what is horrifying. That you stop seeing humanity as grey and suddenly it becomes good or bad, that’s the scary part about revenge and inviting fights, it encourages a black-and-white view of the world that says the rapist is ONLY bad and your friend is ONLY good.

A bit ironic that, in trying to talk about that tunnel-vision-rage, Neeson found himself the target of it.

It’s raw, that anger. It’s part of all the hurt that has happened to you and then you couldn’t even protect your friend or family. Why did you go through all that pain if you couldn’t grow enough to save them? That guilt is a liar, you didn’t hurt them, the asshole did, and you need that to be true or else you were also the cause of all your own pain as well. So you look for the assholes because then at least you could be useful, you could protect them from one asshole by taking the hit. We need to talk about that kind of hurt, about sacrificing the self for revenge because you can’t find worth anymore. We need to talk about existential nihilism that hides inside outrage because you can’t find meaning anymore. We need to talk about emotions and how to talk about them so we can be better friends, better people, so when we look for guidance on talking to friends about their hurt, we find advice on how to not be overwhelmed by rage and guilt and disgust and anger and violence.

That’s the conversation we could have had. That’s the world we could have started to create. But outrage culture is racist and racism gets attention and we all just want to be heard because we don’t know how to talk about our emotions. Interesting how it keeps going around like that.

#anthropology #psychology #racism #emotion #outrage #friendship #discussion #rage #rape #culture #society #loneliness #growth #discovery #Liam neeson

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codezeta-liveblog-blog · 5 years

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Damages 2.1 - Council of Future Plotpoints

Damages huh. To what or to who? Probably to everyone, to the balance itself. If Blake is to continue being the protagonist, he has to get some yet to be seen advantage over everyone else. Which no one expects. Which will probably fuck everyone up. Cant wait, lets go.

> The pen scribbled across the paper. > > Weapons. A knife, a larger weapon if I could manage it. A gun would be ideal but hard to find. Different Others had different drawbacks and weaknesses. Ideally I’d be able to pick up an assortment of weapons in a variety of materials. The problem was, I wasn’t sure where I could get those things. > > That raised several more questions. I needed a better way to get information. Internet. I needed a way to buy supplies, if my cash reserve ran out. Money. > > I switched to another piece of paper, this one headed with the word ‘Needs’. Beneath clothes and a brief shopping list of food staples that would last me a while, I added the two new points about internet access and needing to contact the lawyers. I hesitated, then added other points. Joel’s car and keys, which I had borrowed, needed to be returned, if they weren’t already. Rose needed assistance. I needed allies. > > The council meeting was this afternoon. Three hours before sunset and three hours after, I would be free from interference. I needed a way to get some control over this situation. Enemies at the gates, I’d phrased it.

Man, its freaking today. Here I thought he still had more time. Yeah he cant be harmed, but this has been building up and itll probably be an opportunity for everyone to throw around their threats. Very smart to think of buying the mundane stuff in the meantime. Makes me think, how does a practitioner meeting in the market generally goes?

> I tried to write down everything I could possibly need or need to do. Stumped, stalled, I put the pen down and stood from the couch, stretching my back where I’d been hunched over the coffee table. > > The mirror beside me was empty. My reflection was absent, as was Rose’s. I saw only a living room where the books weren’t quite so scattered, where the shelves were full and no cardboard boxes sat beneath. There wasn’t a pile of dishes in the corner where I’d left them on my side of things. Oatmeal, again. If I didn’t manage a good shopping run, I’d be moving on to wild rice and cans of black beans.

Quick question. Do americans and canadians get black beans that arent canned? Like the ones you actually boil and make the beans yourself? I never hear of it. Me and over half the brazillian population eat rice and beans that way everyday in every major meal, but I have yet to see in any american or english media any of you ever actually boiling bean seeds and preparing them to, you know, actually add flavor and stuff with your own condiments and spices.

> The house felt a little more claustrophobic than it had, before. As large as the house was, it was old fashioned with a very closed concept, every room separated from other rooms by walls and doors. Were it the furniture and furniture alone, I wouldn’t have a problem. But Molly had made a long series of messes in packing up grandmother’s things, leaving the job half done, and her things were still here, untouched. Navigating between furniture and over the boxes and piles of books made me constantly aware of the space around me.

I can definitely see how that doesnt exactly make you paranoid, but rather self conscious about how paranoid you must look.

> When I had some time, I could do some tidying up. For the time being, though, I had too much to do. I settled for a breather. > > I stood in the window, my back against the windowframe, helping to hold the curtains and sheers out of the way. > > With my newly acquired second sight, I could make out the spirits that infused everything. Just as I might focus my eyes, I could focus this sight. I could train it. According to Essentials, some practitioners would train their sight to focus on things better suited to their talents. Imagery would take hold. > > Spirits were the most basic and oldest option when it came to manipulating the physical world through the esoteric. One object as simple as a pencil could have a host of spirits inside it, representations of the purposes the object had, its nature, its elemental makeup, ownership, and many, many other qualities. > > Shamans, then, were practitioners who worked more or less exclusively with spirits. They would be able to find and interact with more powerful spirits. Not simply the spirit of one particular stone, but the spirit of all stones for an area. > > I was thinking along those lines because I couldn’t help but wonder if what I saw was one of those shamans at work.

So shamans are more of controllers of the elements in a way. But also of their surroundings as in the objects around them.

> A boiling cloud of what might have been vapor, a haze, sat over the city. It was as though stormclouds were rolling in, and they were doing it at ground level. At times there was a fluidity to it, as though the nearby lake had swelled and swamped the area, waves rising and falling, only periodically allowing buildings to be seen, where they dipped low enough. > > This wasn’t water or water vapor. It was spirits. > > I shut off the sight. > > The scene I saw without magical aid was an ordinary one, a simple snowfall, with clouds in the proper places. My view of the buildings was still limited, periodically obscured, but only by snow. > > There were things outside, as there had been last night. Daylight wasn’t safety. It only meant that the Others without human forms had to stay out of the public eye. > > I sighed. I wasn’t big on plans. I wasn’t the type to use lists or keep to them. It helped to frame what I was doing in my head, but it wasn’t me. > > Better if I figured out the high points I needed to hit and then winged it. I’d figure out what I needed to shop for when the time came. > > I sat down with what I saw as the little black book. I filled myself in on the local practitioners. > > When I got to the Others, however, I found the entries got a little more complicated and short form. Latin classifications, short form that necessitated I look it up, measures and linking to reference material instead of explaining them outright. > > Grandmother, it seemed, was more interested in Others than people.

After the diary we now know how she hated having to read to whole books to get to the point, how it was hard to look for information for her at a younger age, so sit makes sense that she would just hyperlink everything, make it as simple and to the point as possible, organize things alphabetically and just... easy to get into all of this, or at least as easy as it gets with no one to teach you.

> “Rose!” I called out. > > There was no reply. > > I made my way through the house, searching each of the mirrors. I found her in the library. > > “Rose,” I said. > > She sat on the floor. Her hair had pulled free of the brooch, and she was surrounded by books. Damn, she looked worn out. Not tired, per se, but like she’d been through the wringer. > > “What do you want, Blake?” > > “First of all, I want to make sure you’re okay.” > > “Let’s say I’m not,” she said. She carefully set books aside and climbed to her feet. She didn’t seem willing to meet my eyes, biting her lip, thoughts clearly elsewhere. > > “What can I do?” > > It wasn’t a hard question, but it seemed to bother her. “Survive the meeting? We survive, there’s always room for things to get better.” > > “I’m on board with that,” I said. > > Why did it look like I was upsetting her more? > > “Listen,” I said. “I’ve done the reading. The sections on the Others in the little black book are kind of dense, but I got the gist of it, and I think I can put names to most of the important faces. I know the practitioners I’m up against.” > > “That’s good,” she said. “I read through all of that too.” > > “I’ve also memorized a few of the basic sigils. Driving people away, like Laird Behaim did in the coffee shop, moving things like I did with the mug, and protecting objects. I’ve got salt and chalk if I need it.” > > “I wouldn’t rely on that, if I was in your shoes,” she said. > > I frowned, “Why?” > > “The books say that generally, spirits aren’t that smart. They’re more like small animals, in terms of their capacity to understand things. Like animals, you can train or bait them. In an area trafficked by people who use spirits a great deal, you can trust they’re going to listen.” > > “This is that type of area.” > > “But who are they listening to? Remember how Laird said the spirits of community listen to him because of his role? Out there, they aren’t just listening to you. Their loyalties are divided.”

Ironic that I kept wishing for Rose to get attention and get better and she just kinda... broke after the ritual. She is looking and acting like she is quite done.

> “I think I follow,” I said. “What’s the end result? What happens if they aren’t all in the same camp?” > > “I think it’ll be slower, or fuzzier. You might get nothing, or it might backfire.” > > That took some of the wind out of my sails. “I’m still powerless?” > > “Powerless until you get enough clout to bully them or convince them to play along. It might be that grandmother’s name gives you some of the oomph you need. But if you reach for their help in a bind,” Rose said, “It’s going to be-” > > “-a crapshoot,” I said, in the same instant Rose did. > > I smiled a bit, but Rose didn’t. Her eyes dropped to the ground. > > I sighed. I could hardly blame her for not being in a smiling mood. Rose had her own concerns. Ones I couldn’t even wrap my head around. We didn’t have enough information on what she was or why grandmother had gone to the trouble of creating her. > > Problem was, I didn’t know how to fix this. When in doubt, the strategy was to empathize. As a rule, people wanted their feelings recognized more than they wanted fixes. > > “I can’t imagine how you feel,” I said. It was the truth. “You’ve been put in a horrible situation, with-” > > “Don’t do that,” she said. “Not if you’re using it like they taught it to you.” > > “Huh?” > > “Dad taught us that. How to get on people’s good side. Which may be something he picked up from grandmother.” > > “Grandfather,” I said. “It fits what we know of him.” > > “Don’t manipulate me, Blake. Don’t use strategies to deal with me. I was raised the same way you were, up to a point, I know the tricks.” > > “I do care, Rose. I want to help you. If I’m drawing from what I know to try-” > > “Blake,” Rose said. “It’s fine. It’s done, you’re in charge, I’m the backup. You want me to keep the criticisms to the most vital points? Fine. You want me to do the research and supplement what you’re doing, fine. You win.”

Nooo Rose dont you do the you win thing. Its more frustrating than anything.

t. abusive relationships involving me or people around me. The “you win” phrase still strikes some chords inside me when it comes up in a conversation or discussion or anything really.

> “I don’t want to win. I want us to be on the same page.” > > “The same page? You got the power, I got… this. How do you have a partnership if things are this unequal? Let’s face it. Look at what happened to Molly. Grandmother is willing to use us as expendable assets. I’m nothing more than a piece in a greater puzzle. I’ll serve my role, and the road ends there. I’m the most expendable one of us.” > > “I don’t think she made you as some expendable asset,” I said. > > “I’ve been reading. Everything referencing diabolists says they’re dangerous lunatics, except for the stuff that was written by grandmother and other diabolists. The temptation to offer pieces of yourself for obvious gains sucks all of them in eventually. The guys who unleash some of the worst stuff out there? The guys who meet the worst ends? They’re in the same category as her. Our grandmother. Over and over, they become monsters. Literally, or generally monstrous people that might use their kids or grandkids as sacrificial pawns to get what they need.”

I dont exactly see what Grandmother would have to gain from creating an entirely new person as Rose. Only if the plan was to in some way reincarnate in the mirror body. It would make sense with what we know of Grandma, but we dont exactly know of magics and spells to dismiss this point as impossible.

> “I don’t deny that they’re fucked up. But grandmother lived. She hit the ripe old age of eighty-five, and I doubt you do that while messing with stuff like this if you’re dumb. Besides, dumb people aren’t the type to spend the kind of power it takes to make a sapient being, only to throw it away like you’re talking about.” > > That actually seemed to help. Not that she looked happy, but maybe the way didn’t look so dark. > > “There isn’t a book we can read to figure out why I was created,” Rose said. Her eyes were still downcast. “I looked at the earliest diary entries, and the most recent.”

Ah, so maybe the pages we read were some that Rose perused.

> “Anything useful in the most recent?” I asked. > > She shook her head. “No. Nothing. The early ones… I sort of skipped past the earliest diaries, because a child’s writing is hard to read in big doses. Some stuff on the relationships between the different groups here. But if you’re looking for tips on where to focus our studies, we may have to look a bit further.” > > “Relationships,” I said. > > “It wasn’t all friendly or peaceful, though it sounds like there was more of an equilibrium a while back.” > > “Like Laird said,” I thought aloud, “It’s starting to change. If the house sells, Jacob’s Bell grows past a threshold. It’s thrown things a bit out of balance.” > > “You’ve got the two big circles joining in marriage, maybe rebuilding that balance.” > > “Status quo for the Duchamp family, it sounds like,” I said. Which was a reminder of the matter at hand. “Listen, The council meeting starts in three and a half hours. I wanted to check you were up for it.” > > “I’m up for it,” she said. She met my eyes, but that only made it clearer how worn out she was. > > “Be careful,” I said. “If you lie-” > > “I know,” she said. Nervously, she started fiddling with her hair, trying to get it sorted out. “I might lose my powers, or be forsworn. And I don’t want to lose any protections I might have, if things like Padraic can reach in here to get me. Not that I have much else to lose.” > > I nodded. > > “Don’t worry about me if you’re not going to worry about yourself,” Rose said. “You look as tired as I feel, and since you’re the one making the big decisions, like when to go out and-” > > “Woah,” I said. “Woah, woah. You’re talking about this?” > > “About going out with Laird.” > > “I thought we weren’t fighting.” > > I could see her expression change. Barely restrained frustration, slowly but surely being covered up, hidden behind a mask. “We’re not. Nevermind. I got carried away. I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit, and then we’ll go?” > > A big part of me wanted to argue. To press the issue. To air grievances and get things on a more even keel. To convince her that I didn’t want her as a slave or a servant.

But if you press the issue you will be yet agains forcing her to do something, in this case, discuss the issue.

> Except we had more pressing matters. Better to find a way to show it to her rather than tell her. > > “Sure,” I said. > > ■ > > The spirits parted. I knew when it was time, because of the way the surroundings changed. A moment of rest, where the snow wasn’t so hard, the spirits were settled, and an entire area was almost clear, in magical terms. In regular terms, the snowstorm let up a touch. It was dark, but that was more to do with cloud cover than time of day. > > I was on the move the moment the coast was clear, but I didn’t go to the meeting. > > I headed for the downtown area, backpack empty, pockets full. Everything I could think I might need on hand. > > Fireplaces and stoves. No. Dollar store? No. An old-school ice-cream shop complete with the benches and the tall glasses for fondues and ice cream floats. > > I settled on a general mens store. > > Knives were on sale, but I didn’t like the idea of using them. Too short a reach, against the sorts of things I would be fighting. > > I did like the look of the ice picks and hatchets. Prices on the picks hit the hundreds, while I could manage a hatchet for as little as forty. > > Wooden baseball bat, a touch less expensive. > > I added the weight of a loop of chain to the cart as well. > > Then I stepped into the corner of the shop where they handled bicycle stuff. > > Cheap side-mirrors were about four dollars for a pair, round mirrors about six inches across. I checked that I could see Rose inside and grabbed twenty. > > I think she might have actually smiled, when I glimpsed her. > > I did another circuit of the store. There were rifles and guns, but those started at a hundred and fifty dollars, and I had little doubt they’d stop working in a pinch. Many Others would be immune or too hard to kill with a regular gun. In terms of cost benefit, I’d rather have more mirrors. > > If I couldn’t get a gun at this point, the bow and arrow set stood out as a tempting alternative. It helped that there were Others who were vulnerable to wood and not metal. There were problems in terms of cost, though. At ninety dollars minimum, it was just outside of the range I was willing to pay. > > And, when I thought about it, it would be hell to practice if my movements were limited to the interior of Hillsglade House. It would take too long to learn. > > I had basic weapons for self defense, plus a few tools, which would have to tide me over until I got further in my studies over the magic stuff. > > When I approached the counter to pay, I got stares. It made me wonder if the process of awakening had changed anything about me. Or if they were enemies.

I dont doubt Blake's enemies would be slightly amused about him making an attempt to protect himself.

> I made my way to the next store. A general catch-all bargain shop, a little better than the dollar store I had passed. Expanding beyond the one pair of jeans would go a long way for my sanity. So would having decent soap and shampoo. Even different laundry detergent would help. I grabbed all of the toiletries, a few spare t-shirts, a sweatshirt and added a thirty dollar pair of jeans, just so I had something besides underwear to wear in a pinch. > > It made me feel better, knowing I had the stuff, feeling the weight of it in the shopping basket. It left me roughly twenty bucks to get food, but I could stretch a little money a long way on that front. I was happier having permanent things, new things. Even if they were cheap shirts for 75% off. If I had more money in general, I would be a shopaholic or a hoarder.

Makes sense, him having a homeless background and all that

> When I headed to the front of the store, a young boy got in my way. Just past the brink of entering adolescence, pale and brown haired. > > My first thought was Other. The memories of the things that had attacked the fake delivery man were fresh in my mind. It wasn’t. Very much human. > > “You’re Blake, aren’t you?” > > I nodded. > > “Do you recognize me?” > > I nodded again. Molly’s younger brother.

Oh-oh? What are you doing in town?

> When he didn’t say anything, giving me a death glare, I said, “Christoff. Hey, listen. I’m sorry about your sister.” > > “Why are you sorry?” he asked. “Did you do it?” > > God damn, the way he could say it as if I had… with a hardness in his voice? That had to have been something that the family had imbued in him over the years of fighting. Something he would have picked up. It was the kind of accusation that had enough weight to it that even an innocent target could be put off balance and made to consider the question. > > “No, Christoff. The police already cleared me.” > > “That doesn’t mean anything. Did you kill my sister?” > > “No,” I said. Not unless murder by omission is possible. “I didn’t.” > > I could see Callan approaching, giving me a bit of a wary look. His mother wasn’t far behind.

Shut up Callan.

> Callan was almost thirty. His mother was forty and looked ten years older, by the condition of her skin and hair, her arms full with a bundle of shirts with superheroes on them. I couldn’t help but see Aunt Irene as the type of person who had faced hardships every day and had emerged just a fraction weaker from each crisis. Worrying about money and work and all of that tended to eat you up inside. I knew, even if I had lived it for only a short time, what that was like. > > All that said, it didn’t mean I was a fan of her as a person. > > Callan frowned as stopped behind Christoff, putting his hands on his little brother’s shoulders. > > “I was just saying to Christoff,” I said, “I’m sorry about Molly. You have my condolences.” > > “But you still didn’t waste any time in taking the house,” Callan said. His glare matched those of Christoff and my aunt. > > “Ah, someone told you?” > > “It’s in the papers,” he said. “Every day, talking about Molly, talking about you. Who’s the new heir, that sort of thing.” > > “I didn’t have much of a choice in any of it,” I said. “I don’t want the house or the baggage that comes with it. At this point, I’d be pretty happy give up all the money and walk away from all of this… without anyone getting hurt.” > > “But you’re living there,” Callan said. “So you must want some part of it.” > > “It’s complicated,” I said. > > “Your parents said you were homeless. I bet you fucked up, and this is the only place you have to live. Squatting in my sister’s house before her body’s even cold.”

Oh SHUT the fuck up Callan.

> I expected his mother to rebuke him, to respond to the callous comment about Molly. > > She was cold before she died, I thought. > > What I said was, “She was one of the very few family members I ever liked, honestly. She was a friend to me. I meant it when I said I’m sorry.” > > “She wasn’t your friend,” Aunt Irene said, and her voice had that accusatory hardness that Christoff had picked up. Her eyes narrowed, an expression to match her tone, “Every other second I look at you, I wonder how you’re responsible.” > > How, not if. > > “You keep saying you’re sorry, and I believe it a little less each time,” Callan said. “Tell you what. Go. Don’t ever fucking talk about my sister again, just go, and we won’t have a problem.” > > I didn’t say anything, out of concern it would be taken as binding. Instead, I circled around to walk past him. > > He took a step to the side, getting in my way. “I didn’t say pay and leave. I said leave.” > > “You said go,” I said. “I’m going.” > > “Not this way,” he said. “Not with this shit you need to keep squatting in my sister’s house.” > > Heads were turning. We had the attention of every shopper and employee in the store, now. > > I thought of Rose’s recent surrender. I didn’t agree with it. It wasn’t what I wanted… but I didn’t want an issue here, either. > > “Fine,” I said. “Let me give the basket to the cashier-” > > “Don’t be an asshole,” Callan said. “Go put it all back on the shelves and racks.” > > I dropped the basket. “No. But I’ll leave, without buying, without incident. You win, Callan.” > > He smirked, but when I turned to go around him, he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder, maybe to slow me down so he could get in my way again. > > I shoved him, hard enough he stumbled three steps back. > > Before anything further could happen, I headed for the doors. More for his sake than mine. I wasn’t forgetting the consequences of missing the council meeting, as I thought that. I was- > > The sound of running footsteps made me stop. The expressions of the cashiers to my right clued me in. > > I reacted, half-turning, bringing my arm up. The arm wasn’t in position to deflect the worst of the hit, but I was more or less ready as Callan did his damndest to sucker-punch me. It hurt, but it was only pain. No disorientation, no loss of consciousness. > > My retaliation was automatic. I hit him, fist to face. He reeled, bending over to the point that I thought he was going to do a somersault. But I was already swinging the follow-up strike, waist-level. > > He hit the ground, rolled onto his back, and he didn’t get up. His mouth was open, lip split, and he stared, blinking hard, looking in a different direction each time he opened his eyes. > > Fuck, my hands hurt like a bitch. > > Employees came running, as well as one or two male customers. I backed away, hands raised. > > But when they reached us, two employees dropped to their knees beside Callan, and the rest of the intervening bystanders put themselves between us, forming a protective half-circle around Callan. Six of them, and another fourteen or so bystanders. > > “He hit me first,” I said. > > “You shoved him,” a man said. He looked fifty or so, but had a walker, oddly out of tune with his age. > > “That’s not how it happened and you know it,” I said. > > The man said, “I know you’re that guy in the Hillsglade place right now. You selling it anytime soon?” > > “No, the contract-” > > “Then I think I know what we’re telling the police,” he said. He looked around, and slowly, each other member of the small crowd started nodding in agreement.

I do not have words to how angry this is making me. And it is reflecting in the liveblog.

> Too coincidental. Too much fuckery, for this to happen now. I switched to my other way of seeing. > > Nothing stood out, no strange glows or images that weren’t supposed to be here. No Others were in the area. > > When I turned to more basic elements, I could see how active the spirits were. Nothing too unusual, though this was my first opportunity seeing how the spirits traveled back and forth between people, maintaining relationships. If I unfocused a bit, they almost looked like ribbons or cords, connecting people throughout the area. > > Three of the ribbons stood out from the rest. Too straight, too narrow. They were like spears that had penetrated Callan, Aunt Irene and Christoff and plunged into me. > > Forced connections between us. Too direct to be natural. Someone had aimed them at me. > > Fuckery. > > There were rules, though. No interfering with or attacking anyone else in the time leading up to, during, or after the meeting. > > Had this been done beforehand? Had things been set up so that they’d get in my way at the first available opportunity? > > Or had someone found a loophole? > > I wasn’t sure I had a chance to debate it. A cashier was dialing on the phone, her eyes on me. > > In that moment, I saw Laird enter the store, not in uniform, but wearing a long coat, cheeks red from the cold. He surveyed the situation. > > “Mr. Thorburn,” he said. > > “Officer,” I said. “Pretty prompt response to a call that hasn’t been made yet.” > > “Are you getting smart with me?” he asked. > > I shook my head. “Only stating the truth.” > > He gave me an appraising look. “Yes. I imagine you are. Katie, you can put the phone down. He’s right, there isn’t a point.” > > “He had a few harsh words for the fellow there,” the guy with the walker said, “Then shoved him, they exchanged blows.” > > “That so?” Laird asked. He surveyed the room very slowly. His eyes settled on Katie. “I’m asking. Is it, Katie?” > > She looked at the crowd. > > “Katie?” > > “No, sir.” > > “No. I didn’t think so. I’ll tell you what. You guys go on about your business, and I’ll see that Mr. Thorburn gets to his destination. Deal?” > > “Yes sir,” a few nearby people mumbled. > > “Mr. Thorburn?” he asked, giving me a sharp look. > > “Sounds good,” I said. > > “I don’t think I heard that clearly enough,” he said. His stare was a level one. > > Right. He wanted to play this game. > > I wouldn’t be buying clothes, toiletries or groceries, it seemed.

Wait, weren't the things from different stores? Nice touch on the possibility of loopholes already in the safety guaranteed thing, but then that is fishy as fuck. How can you meddle with someone in such a way and it not count as... ah well, w/e. I’m not going to lie and pretend I remember the exact wording that goes for the Meeting Truce.

> “I’ll go with you,” I said. > > “Good,” he responded, smiling. > > We went on our way. I hadn’t turned off my second sight, and I saw how the spirits were shifting. People were milling around the area, which was more like an extended strip mall than a true downtown, but the spirits diverted them from taking one side street. > > We turned down that street, and were soon joined by Andy and Eva. The witch hunters. > > “I assume they aren’t bound by any neutrality rules,” I said. > > “No,” Laird said. “But if they wanted to kill you, they could enter your home and murder you in their sleep.” > > The girl smiled, giving me a look. Confident, brash, if I remembered right from the vision. Her brother kept his eyes straight forward, watching the ground for slick patches and lumps of snow he might stumble on. He was burdened down with bags of stuff, while she strutted. > > I’d read up on the locals. What had the little black book said? They were witch hunters in service to Jacob’s Bell. Killing or punishing any Other or practitioner who strayed too far from the rules and made life inconvenient. Half of their payment came in the form of hard cash. Half was in either trinkets they could use on their job or knowledge. > > We approached a church. The area was desolate. > > I saw the woman with a blur for a face pause outside, waiting for a man to hold the door open. She was the one who’d molded the other who’d pretended to be a delivery driver. I saw her deliberately put the little ever-lit cigarette out before entering. > > A church wasn’t my first guess for a meeting place. > > Inside, Laird walked me to the front, where his family sat in the front row of pews. He paused, bending down to talk to his wife, and I walked on, my eyes taking it in. > > All eyes were on me, in turn. It made for a kind of pressure. Like all of the bad parts of public speaking without the ability to say something and give off a better impression.

Finally time for the meeting with everyone. Finding out our enemies, the who's who of the town.

> Behaim Circle, chronomancers. Demesnes situated in scattered residences across the city. I was familiar enough with them. > > Sitting in the aisles opposite the Behaims was the Duchamp Coven. According to the little black book, their line was purely female, and their craft was taught to women only. Easy enough, when any Duchamp woman would give birth girls only. A large family with strong ties to many of the surrounding areas, the family had earned a measure of prestige and power by marrying off their daughters and cousins to others in Ontario, Quebec, and the Northeastern States. Enchantresses. > > What were enchantresses? Essentials had filled me in on the basics. They would be focused on altering relationships. Influencing people, influencing things. An object could have its owner reassigned, so it might find its way into someone else’s hands, or be tethered to a location, so it would continually end up there. On the higher end of things, people could be altered, with an enchantress literally stealing someone’s love. On the veryhigh end of things, familiars could be claimed by an enchantress that didn’t already have one, among other general bends and twists in more fundamental rules. > > In short, they were the most likely culprits for sending Aunt Irene’s family my way.

Or maybe sending a group of girls, their own daughters mayhaps, to beat up Rose when she was small, even before they were turned practitioners.

> A middle-aged aboriginal woman sat alone, and nobody sat near her. Mara Angnakak. She straddled the line between practitioner and Other. When Jacob’s Bell was first settled by colonists, she was already here. The notes had marked that she was very reserved, but she harbored a horrendous amount of hatred for the rest of us. Grandmother had written out suspicions that she was illiterate; arguing it would explain why her talents seem to be limited to what she could teach herself. Centuries of such teaching and experimentation, but limited nonetheless. > > Being a practitioner inevitably meant losing a bit of your humanity and becoming a bit more Other. My new eyesight was a part of that, one step along what could be a long journey. Mara Angnakak had nearly finished that journey before stopping. Or she had to have, if she was that old. > > She was here before Europeans came to Canada and chances were good that she intended to be here well after we were gone.

Protecting her land in a way probably. Taking care of old beings that dont even hold an identity any more. I'd put money on her having access to things like Barba-whatsis, as in, unknown beings that have lost meaning to most.

> A girl slouched in a seat. Her familiar wasn’t in its mortal form, but was ethereal, with all of the mass of a grizzly on the front end, and a tail end that looked like that of a fish, the features an incoherent blend of different animals and plants, different features being emphasized as I looked longer. Her stick tapped the floor with no rhythm at all. She’d seated herself nearer the Others at the back than the two big families. I recognized her as the one who’d been shouting at the rabbit. > > She would be the Briar Girl. No other name. A recent addition to the local population, as of six years ago. She apparently lived full-time in the woods and marshes behind Hillsglade House. Grandmother’s suspicion? She had contracted with a familiar too powerful for her to handle, creating something that was less a partnership than a practitioner dominated by the spirit. The bear-thing would be the familiar, the stick her implement.

I'm going to bet it is something like that, but missing some keypoint. Like maybe she took the spirit as a familiar willing to be controlled. A stick for implement, so maybe guidance, strenght in many? Balance, equilibrium, reach, stability. Safety? Halted Growth? I really think something mutual is going on with them both.

> Johannes, the sorcerer from the north end, was already sitting, but he’d chosen to sit among the Others, near the back, rather than anywhere near the two families. His dog sat beside him, a breed that could easily look silly, given the chance, but it managed to look noble. > > It helped that the lights behind the dog seemed somehow brighter, the rest of the room darker by contrast. > > Others continued to appear, and it seemed as though they had been arriving for a while. They avoided the pews and stood around the edges. Where they clustered, their bodies blocked the wall-mounted lights behind them, and the room darkened. > > I found an empty row and sat. I put the backpack down on the pew beside me and fished out a pair of bike mirrors. I adjusted the zipper, and zipped up around the prong where the mirror was supposed to fit into the bike handle. It stuck up, facing forward. > > Easily an hour passed before the influx of Others started to taper off. My mouth was dry, my heart pounding, my face hurt where I’d been hit, and my hands hurt more. > > Above all else, I was realizing what I was up against. These weren’t pages in the little black book. They were enemies of mine. Virtually all of them. > > A lot of them would kill me. > > A good few would probably do worse things than kill me.

Like press their hands against your skin and tie pieces of you together in a nice little bow.

> This wasn’t quite what I had expected. I’d expected a few practitioners. Not everyone. > > “Blake,” Rose whispered. > > “What?” I asked, leaning closer. > > “Don’t tell anyone that I did the ritual,” she said. > > I nodded. > > Keep cards up our sleeves. That was how we needed to think.

I still dont understand if her doing the ritual put them in a disadvantage or no. We'll have to wait and see.

> But we couldn’t be wilting flowers, bowing over if someone so much as looked at us the wrong way. I could do that for Callan, but not here. > > A woman from the Duchamp family was talking to Laird, off to the side. She might have been the one who was talking in the vision I’d had. Not the oldest Duchamp woman here, but she had a kind of presence. They both cast glances my way as they talked, making me the obvious topic of conversation. > > I went out of my way to look like I wasn’t terrified. > > All of these people were my enemies. > > “Beautiful Rose,” Padraic purred. “Both of them, here. A good night, I’m sure.” > > He’d entered alongside his two regular companions, two other companions of similar attractiveness, and Maggie Holt, the girl with the checkered scarf. She was a teenager, making her slightly younger than the Briar Girl, and her eyebrows made her look perpetually angry, helped by a swift, graceless manner of walking. > > She sat to my right, across the aisle. Padraic and his group sat around her, instantly and automatically settling into comfortable seating positions that could have doubled for poses. > > “Padraic, as usual, is the last to enter,” Laird said. “We can begin a little early tonight. Please, Mr. Thorburn. You’re at the center of attention. Would you please step up to the front and introduce yourself?” > > Every set of eyes in the room > > “Say no,” Rose said. > > “I said I’d run impulsive plans by you, right?” I asked. > > “Blake?” > > “Mr. Thorburn?” Laird asked, his voice ringing down the length of the church. > > “If I had a way to divert our enemies from us and to each other?” I asked. “Yes or no?” > > “Blake, you can’t expect me to-”

What the fuck is the plan. I'm expecting it to be in the cliffhanger.

> “Blake Thorburn, grandson of Mrs. Rose D. Thorburn, Diabolist of Hillsglade House,” Laird said. “I would like a response.” > > Making someone repeat themselves, in some cases, would make them look weaker. Laird was getting more intimidating each time he spoke. > > “Yes,” she said. > > I stood. > > There was no murmur of conversation as I walked down the aisle. There were hundredshere, but most were Others, and they were all exceptionally good at being quiet. Goblins, disgusting to look at, as though they were distilled versions of human ugliness, squat and all of them armed with weapons forged together from scrap. Ghosts, etheral and exaggerated in appearance, forever marked with their causes of death, twisted by an imperfect recollection of what they looked like and who they were, before. Faerie, in myriad shapes and forms, and spirits. The other half of the Others were impossible to identify. > > Funny, how many others with the appearances of children were around Johannes. > > Andy and Eva sat on the stairs to the right of the stage, facing down everyone. Like bailiffs or guards, a reminder to keep the peace. The other set of stairs was blocked by the crowd. I stood at the very end of the aisle, and gripped the railing. > > In the midst of the faces, of the twenty or so members of the Duchamp coven and thirty-ish members of Laird’s family, all of the Others, I had to search to find the tiny round mirror that Rose would be peering out of. > > “I’m Blake Thorburn,” I said. “I doubt you really care about that, or about who I am. I imagine Molly Walker did her own speech here. I can’t even guess how she handled it, or what she said. I’m an obstacle for you to remove, to get power. I know this. I know you might see me as one number on a countdown clock, with prosperity waiting when there’s nothing left. When there are no successors. But you need to know, that thing so many of you are terrified of? That I might learn enough to summon something problematic? It’s already summoned.” > > I could see Laird react to that. A shift in the crowd. Some of the kids went pale, in the Duchamp family. > > Johannes smiled. Mara the immortal, for her part, didn’t say or do anything. Most Others didn’t seem to care one way or another.

Johannes probably already knows what is up, and I somehow doubt he is expecting more power. He strikes me as someone who already has what he wants. But I also barely know anything about him.

> “Not my choice. I also didn’t choose the arrangements my grandmother put in place,” I said. > > I was thinking of Rose, but I didn’t need to elaborate on that. > > “Some of you have been baiting me, trying to get me to retaliate. I don’t know why, but I imagine there’s something at play. I’m not going to do what they want. I’m going to make you guys a deal. I’ll make three deals. If you approach me and offer a ceasefire, an agreement you won’t attack me or help anyone who might, if you make a good offer, I’ll take the demon off the table for you and yours.” > > I could see people exchanging glances. > > That was a maxim, right? A rule of war? > > Divide and conquer.

I didnt get the feeling Barbatholomeus was the sole reason peole were worried, but if that is enough to get people to get paranoid, then I'm happy. I'm binging a lot of chapters right now, so I'll dive right into the next one. With this in the ending, I'm heavily leaning towards someone bringing a major point against Blake. Let's a go.

2019 Addendum: Next liveblog on Friday!

#CodeZeta liveblogs #pact #PactArc2 #Pact2.1

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 years

Text

All Hell Breaks Loose Part One- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,966

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. If you’re a junkie for this sort of thing, then a tag list is the right thing for you! If you want to be a Queen, I’ll add you to that list too! Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

AHHHH This season is almost done!!!!! Just ONE more episode left! If you’ve been catching along with this series, this and the next episodes is what I wan to hear your thoughts on!

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“So, we had kids?” You asked Dean from the backseat.

“Yeah. You said you would stop bringing it up.” Dean said as he drove into a random town to get some food.

“Sorry, I know I said that but Dean, you have to be honest with me, okay?” You said, being very serious.

“What is it, Y/N?” Dean asked with a sigh, parking the car. Sam chuckled and looked over at you and Dean with an amused smile.

“Was I still hot? Did having two kids ruin my body?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Oh, sweetheart, it was hard for me not to keep my hands off you.”

“And I’m out.” Sam said, taking the money from Dean’s hand before getting out of the car.

“Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time, huh?” Dean said, making Sam roll his eyes.

“Sam, make them forget. We’re going to have to be the ones to ride with your extra onions.” You said, disgusted but Dean just smirked. Sam was about to leave again but Dean stopped him.

“Hey, see if they got pie. Bring me some pie!” Sam huffed out in annoyance and left, walking into the café. “I love me some pie.”

“I know you do. So, you couldn’t keep your hands off me, huh?” You asked with a grin, sliding closer to him from the backseat. He smirked and nodded, leaning in to kiss you but the radio on his car started to static, eventually turning off.

Dean sighed and leaned to the radio, messing with it to get it to turn back on but when he looked back at you, you were gone. You and Sam were gone and the lively town he drove into, was now an empty nest, full of the smell of death and sulfur.

You gasped as you woke up, looking around to where you were. You didn’t know how you got here or why you were or what even here was. You scrambled to get up, looking around the small room you were in. The windows were mostly boarded up but that didn’t stop light from peering inside through the slits.

You walked to the window, looking outside to see if you knew where you were or if Sam and Dean were okay. You couldn’t see much and started panicking. You took your phone out of your back pocket, going to dial Dean but frowned when you didn’t have service.

“Sam!!!! Dean!!!!” You yelled, hoping that you were close enough to hear you. You didn’t know if they were hurt or worse. You tried not to think about that as you figured out a way to get out. You walked to the door and mentally slapped yourself for not trying that first.

You pushed the door but it wouldn’t budge, so you tried to pull on it and it didn’t even budge. You knew that it swung outward and it felt as if something was keeping it from being opened. So, how the hell did you get in here if every exit was boarded up?

You sighed, looking around the room, wondering if you could use anything in here to break the board but found nothing. You looking at your hands and immediately, the light bulb went off in your head. You walked to the door and took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

You concentrated on bringing the powers you knew where there but never used. In all honesty, they scared the shit out of you. You knew, that with practice, they would become very powerful, making hunting a lot easier but a, you never had the time to practice them and b, you didn’t know what would happen if something went out of hand.

You remembered, almost a year ago, you lost control of them but that was when Dean was on his death bed after the crash. You could still remember that day as if it was yesterday and every time you thought about it, it made your heart heavy and your bones shake.

You tried to shake the images out of your head but once they were there, they were there and without anyone here to stop you, you had trouble making them go away on your own. With each image that passed by, you started to shake more and when you shook, you could feel the magic inside you, bubble up.

You tried to keep your cry of pain quiet and you shot your hands forward, pushing out every single ounce of magic through your hands and into the door. It was a weak door and broke easily under the pressure. You gasped and opened your eyes, not realizing you were crying.

You saw the door half broken, a big enough hole for you to get through. You wiped your eyes, pulling yourself together before exiting the small room. You frowned, taking in your surroundings. You were in an abandoned town that looked as if it hadn’t been in use for decades.

You looked around, seeing no one here.

“Sam!! Dean!!” You yelled out, hoping one of the brothers or both of them would come to your aid. When no one was seen or heard, you sighed, realizing you were on your own now. You walked through the town, occasionally looking through the windows of the stores to see if anyone was in there.

There wasn’t.

You didn’t have the time, your phone didn’t have any service and you had no idea where you were. Things were working out great, if anyone was wondering. You hoped Sam was okay. You knew Dean was at least alive because if he was dead, you probably would feel it.

Lately, or at least, ever since you started dating, you felt like you two were connected on a deeper level. You could sometimes feel what he was feeling and you knew when he was lying. You had no idea what it was but you knew he wasn’t dead which was a good thing. But you didn’t know if he was okay or not.

You rounded a corner, gasping when you saw a group of people, maybe 4 or 5, talking and freaking out. You didn’t know who they were but you were glad to see people. You just hoped there were no monsters here since you didn’t have any kind of weapons with you.

However, as you got closer, you recognized the tallest one there.

“Sam!” You yelled, running towards him. He turned around and his eyes widened, smiling in relief when he saw you. When you got to him, you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Sam said, releasing you after a few moments. You smiled up at him but before you could say anything, a black man came into your view and wrapped his hand around your throat. You gasped and your eyes widened, scratching at his hand to get him to let go.

“Hey!!” Sam said, prying his hand off your throat, before shoving him away. Sam put you behind him as you coughed, trying to get your breath back.

“What the hell, man?” You coughed, glaring at him. You didn’t like him at all. When you stood up straight, you saw the other 4 people staring at you with their eyes narrowed.

“What the hell was that, Jake?” Sam asked, angry.

“She needs to die.” He said, getting ready to go again. You rolled your eyes, not this again.

“Why does she need to die?” Sam asked, protecting you.

“The yellow-eyed man told us to. She can’t be alive and he ordered one of us to kill her. Now, move.” The brown-haired woman said.

“Ava, no, you’re not killing her. No one is killing her.” Sam said.

“Wait, that’s Ava?” You asked, looking at her.

“How do you know me?” She asked, confused.

“Sam, his brother and I spent weeks looking for you.” You said, worried what they might do to you.

“Well, you found me.” She said.

“Look, guys, no one is killing her, okay? Lily don’t you dare touch her.” Sam said.

“No promises.” The blonde woman said with an eye roll.

“What happens if she touches me?” You asked Sam.

“Your heart will stop beating. It happens when I touch someone.” Lily answered for Sam.

“It won’t work on me, anyways, remember Sam? Andy’s mind control didn’t work on me and neither did his brother’s. She won’t hurt me that way.” You said, relaxing a bit.

“What do you mean it won’t work on you?” The man who tried to kill you asked.

“Wait, more importantly, where did you come from?” Sam asked, turning around to look at you.

“I don’t know. One moment I’m with Dean in the car and the next, I wake up in some dusty room someone in this town. Where’s Dean? There’s no service.” You said, relaxing a bit when you saw the others back up a bit.

“I don’t know where he is.” Sam said, scared of what might have happened to him.

“Don’t worry, he’s not dead. I would feel it if he had.” You said, seeing the relief on his face.

“So, what is this place? Do you think it has anything to do with the demon?” You asked Sam.

“Wait, demon? Sam, I was a little on board with the whole psychic and mind bending thing but demons? Come on.” Ava said, scoffing.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy…”

“It doesn’t just sound it.” The man who tried to kill you said.

“Look, Jake, I don’t really care what you think, okay? If we’re all gathered here together, then that means it’s starting and that we have to get ready.” Sam said, talking about the war the yellow-eyed demon mentioned about. The war that you were messing up because you were alive.

“The only thing I’ve gotta do, is stay away from wackjobs, okay? I’ve heard enough. I’m better off on my own. FYI, so are you.” Jake said, turning around and walking away from the group.

“Wait! Jake!” Sam tried. Jake ignored him and continued walking until he disappeared from sight.

“Great, now what?” You asked. You were fine around Andy because you worked with him before but you didn’t know Ava all that well and you didn’t know Lily at all. You were going to be sticking with Sam and if Sam is somehow gone, then with Andy.

He didn’t seem like a threat before.

Suddenly, you heard a screeching noise and you looked at Sam who was already rushing to the source of the noise. You didn’t want to be caught with anyone else so you took off, catching up to Sam easily. You followed him into a building, seeing a little girl.

But she wasn’t any normal little girl. Her face was contorted into something ugly and her nails were outstretched, much like a tentacle. Jake, never have seen a demon before, was scared of what was going on. But Sam was quicker than most and grabbed an iron poker that he spotted by the door.

He swung at the girl, expecting her to dissolve, much like a spirit would. She did dissolve but not in the way you’d expect. Instead of disappearing, a cloud of black smoke was all that was left, exiting what looked to be a classroom of sorts.

Jake was staring at Sam with wide eyes and Sam threw the poker down, jerking his head to the side to move his hair out of his eyes.

“Just so you know, that was a demon.” Sam left the classroom and you followed quickly, walking ahead of him. You thought it would be best to put Sam in between you and the people who wanted to kill you.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @wishedworld @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi @tahbehonest @stay-in--place @dreaminofdean @posiemax @donnaintx @mikey1822 @alexandriajanae4 @li-ssu @just-another-winchester @obsessivecompulsivespn @emoryhemsworth @newtospnfandom @mizzezm @goldenolaf25 @jessikared97 @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @charliebradbury1104 @queen-of-moons-peace-out-bitches @becs-bunker @atc74 @lemonchapstick

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @carribear31 @tacklesackles @oreosatmidnight @not-naturalfangirl @missselinakitty @iam-a-cutiepie @kristendansmith @milo-winchester-4ever @jensenackesl @codyshany316 @pheonyxstorm @helllonearth @juniorhuntersam @pouterpufftrain @ruprecht0420 @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @carriemichelle2012 @aubreystilinski

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels @spnhybrid @oreosatmidnight @valerieshubin @seninjakitey @flyonlittlewinchester @aubreystilinski @rocketqueeens @emilygracespellins @earthtokace

88 notes · View notes

calangkoh · 7 years

Text

alphonse elric post-cos headcanons

based on my “teenage alphonse elric would be an absolute nightmare” post except it’s not as funny anymore now it’s just sad

al actually does have a lot of angst going on so let’s talk about that before we talk about how it manifests in his teenage behaviors: first off, general ptsd. now that his memories are back and he has a body and like, a brain to torment him, he’s gonna be having nightmares and flashbacks and anxiety and paranoia and days/moments where he’s feeling so overwhelmed where all he can do is sit in terrified silence. his survivors guilt from the end of the series returns and then multiplies, because he shouldve died but ed brought him back and now he and his brother are together and somewhat happy and it doesn’t seem fair. he also was the cause of the destruction in central, which definitely killed a buncha people. he has so so so much survivors guilt and has a hard time appreciating anything because it always comes with guilt. hes also resentful to ed for making his sacrifice at the end of the series mean nothing. like ed couldve had his limbs back and be happy in amestris but no ed had to play sacrificial ping pong and bring al back and make things ten times more complicated and make al have to live with all the guilt he feels

again before we get into what a nightmare al is i wanna talk about what an angel he is first (because to me it makes sense to talk about the good first and let you leave with the bad lmao). and it has to do with ed’s struggles. al knows his brother and knows how to calm him and take care of him and knows his patterns. at first al is frustrated with himself because ed has changed a bit and he has to readapt to this. at first he feels like he doesnt know his brother anymore, but he catches on pretty fast. Al is an angel because he still takes great care of ed, and knows how to tend to his needs. He can tell when ed is having a bad day, when he’s on the verge of a panic attack, when he’s anxious, and just in general knows all his ptsd markers and how to care for them. als teenage behaviors are also his way of defending ed from how messed up he is. he doesnt want ed to know hes struggling because he knows ed will blame himself. honestly as codependent as the elric brothers are, they have poor communication because they always want ot protect the other, but it never works because they know each other too well and can see right through each other. but they never talk about it. They just act on it. both of them are the most self-blaming people on the planet and it just snowballs because they’re aware the other is self-blaming, which they self-blame for, etc etc etc.

now onto teenage behaviors. so all this angst is what’s motivating it. and obviously, he misses home, too. and hes thrown into this totally different world and he doesnt know what to do with himself. i mean, ed has a resume now from working with alfons’s team, but he’s not gonna keep working for nazis so he’s gonna go get a research career at a university and be successful and probably even be a professor (this idea makes me extremely happy tbh). meanwhile al is like wth do i do with my life? some more relatable teen angst of “what is my purpose in this sucky world.” ed tries to include al in his work but al just is too distracted and depressed to be interested.

so what does al do? he snaps at ed a lot. Post cos ed has learned sensitivity and warmth (like in cos i really got that sense from him that he learned more social skill and grace) and he literally big brothers al all. the. time. and it comes from him caring for al’s mental health (like he knows what al is going through to a tee but he just doesnt know how to communicate verbally with him about it). he’ll bring work home with him and try and get al in on it and al will snap at ed ti leave him alone. ed will offer to take al to work and al will get pissed because why cant he just mind his own business and stop treating him like a kid? ed will offer to do things with al, he’ll do little things to try and make al happy and damn al is terrifying. i mean i have a personal story here: my older sister smothers me a lot and senior year of high school (she was living at home after graduating college) and im sitting in my room and she comes in without knocking, and in the sweetest voice is like “look at this shirt i had that you can wear to school!” and in the most demonic voice possible i just say “get out of my room” and she justs squeaks out “okay” and leaves looking terrified. Like THAT is ed and al. Ed will do something totally unexpectedly thoughtful to try and help al and al will just be a total shit leaving ed with nothing to do but run away for his life because nothing is scarier than a moody, teenage alphonse elric.

So yeah at first al just stays at home alone, wondering, “high school? or factory job?” And just isolating himself from the scary outside world that he doesnt recognize.

When ed takes him out al is so quiet. Ed talks pretty excitedly about his day, trying everything to help his brother out (because god he was just as miserable when he came to this world and the only reason ed is genuinely doing well now and is actually pretty happy despite his mental illnesses is because al is with him now. And ed just wants to freaking save al from this pain but it just...isnt working. he knows its not that he isnt enough; he knows al would rather be with ed here than in amestris without him but god he still cant help how muh self loathing he feels that he cant help his brother like hes able to help him) and al just zones out and plays with his food or sips his tea or looks at the sidewalk. its not that he doesnt care about his brothers day or that he resents him for being happy, its that he just does not have the energy to be present. and then that is snowballing because he feels like a sucky brother and then he feels like hes self-pitying too much and then its just this endless cycle

So al goes to high school because ed thinks the mental stimulation and learning about this worlds culture and science would be better than throwing him into a factory job. thing is, people who stayed in school past 14 in this time period tended to have money. And while ed makes money, he only makes enough to put al in high school and then provide the bare minimum after. and al cares about his appearance and about what others think about him. its just his personality. and even though hes a brilliant kid who picks up on what hes learning really quick, he still doesnt know much about this world and its current events and honestly amestris is so much more modern so al is confused about certain restrictions and stuff like that. so in school al is this poor, socially awkward, but super-good-at-school teachers pet and dude he is so so bullied and has no friends. remember he also has the mind of a 17-18 year old and so definitely appears to be an old soul among his actual 13-14 year old peers. so hes extremely outcasted. but now he also has a temper and he gets into fist fights.

now you’d think al would pummel these kids, right? Well no. you see when al gets into these fist fights, it kinda triggers memories of being in the armor and he becomes clumsy and out of touch with his body and sometimes forgets how to even move. some fights are better than others and the bullies are pretty shocked this kid has any skill at all, but al never wins against this entire group of kids

so yeah al comes home beat up and ed gets majorly pissed but now that theyre in this…normal life, having your big brother come into the rescue is not awesome. And ed doesnt get that because, well, when your bro is being beat up isnt the right thing to do to beat up the guy thats putting his life in danger? like these are eds survival/protective instincts from years of adventure and danger, so al telling him not to do anything is like...what? he doesnt understand. and al is getting super defensive about the whole thing. “Its none of your business” “leave me alone you’re not in charge of me” etc etc. and in a rational moment, al calmly explains that ed doing anything about it will make it worse. and now ed feels even more helpless and we all know that that is the worst thing ed can feel

and al is just such a nightmare now because hes getting in physical fights and sneaking out and losing his temper and snapping at people and being grumpy and rude. i can write a whole other list of headcanons for alter wrath both exacerbating his behavior but also helping his mental health (like him being friends with alter wrath/rudi as the fandom has named him really makes a “things get worse before getting better” situation

#calangkoh #meta #headcanon #alphonse elric #fma #fma 03 #fma 2003 #cos #conqueror of shamballa #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #i tried writing

204 notes · View notes

imabookmarkaddict · 4 years

Text

trevor is cheesy, markus’ thoughts on hanging and banging

Poor trevor trying to understand anything markus says

puzzlezToday at 3:45 AM

yeh i already have an idea for how markus explains it

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3:46 AM

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i was thinking the series could be something like idfk

WelshenToday at 3:46 AM

Yeah okay good i just didnt wanna put u in a place of trying to describe something supernatural

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3:47 AM

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Markus is good at recognizing patterns too so series of numbers r p easy to notice

puzzlezToday at 3:47 AM

13 7 21 18 12 1 23 17 6 3 22

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3:47 AM

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where it's 3 series of numbers that alternate or smth

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3:47 AM

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they all go up by 5

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3:48 AM

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13 to 18 to 23, 7 to 12 to 17, 21 to 1 to 6

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3:48 AM

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if u can even see it god nowi'm like markus

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3:48 AM

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but he has no idea how to explain it to trevor

WelshenToday at 3:48 AM

Oh god yeah exact

puzzlezToday at 3:48 AM

so he just writes it down and shows it to trevor like see u see the pattern

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3:48 AM

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and trevor is just staring at a string of random numbers

WelshenToday at 3:48 AM

Its like trevor explaining morning runs to markus

puzzlezToday at 3:48 AM

...tf drugs u on

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3:48 AM

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and markus just keeps writing numbers

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3:49 AM

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like do u see the pattern?

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3:49 AM

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here i'll do another one give me a number

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3:49 AM

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and trevor does and markus writes and then says now you do th next one

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3:49 AM

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and trevor blinks down at the numbers

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3:49 AM

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maybe it can get cute

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3:49 AM

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trevor has no idea what markus is doing and decides time to change subject cuz numbers, lol

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3:50 AM

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and maybe the last number in the series markus wrote was a 3

WelshenToday at 3:50 AM

Probably? Time for sex education

puzzlezToday at 3:50 AM

and trevor just adds a < to it

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3:50 AM

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yeh i see the pattern

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3:50 AM

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"<3"

WelshenToday at 3:50 AM

Oh thats cheesy christ

puzzlezToday at 3:50 AM

u asked for it

WelshenToday at 3:50 AM

But markus doesnt use phones he has no clue

puzzlezToday at 3:50 AM

hey maybe markus can call him out on it

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3:50 AM

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oh fuck then it's perfect

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3:50 AM

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maybe trevor is bad at flirting with guys sometimes??

WelshenToday at 3:51 AM

Im sure he has never tried in his life

puzzlezToday at 3:51 AM

like maybe he tried cheesy stuff with girls and it worked so whenever he feels lost and confused he just defaults to a cheesey cute one liner

WelshenToday at 3:51 AM

Just dates idk cheerleaders and other sporty girls

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3:51 AM

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Omh yah perf

puzzlezToday at 3:51 AM

how would markus react tho

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3:52 AM

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would he enjoy it mostly like watching an amusing 5 yo play at dressup

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3:52 AM

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or would he just cringe like wtf drugs r U on

WelshenToday at 3:53 AM

He would just be confused until he understands and then embarrassed to heck

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3:53 AM

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Markus doesnt flirt much either u kno

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3:54 AM

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Its just heres money lets go

puzzlezToday at 3:54 AM

poor thing

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3:54 AM

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if i remember correctly, will was a smooth talker flirter

WelshenToday at 3:54 AM

Squint

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3:54 AM

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If u mean when he said ur beautiful after like 2mins is smooth

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3:54 AM

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Yeah

puzzlezToday at 3:55 AM

so yeah maybe trevor can be bad as heck at flirting until he feels awkward and spits out those one-liner balls of cheese in a rush of panic

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3:55 AM

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well i'm p sure will thought he was a smooth talker

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3:55 AM

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ppl probs too polite to point out he ain't

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3:55 AM

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but yeh thought it might give markus some variation?

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3:56 AM

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unless u prefer trevor to be good at flirting

WelshenToday at 3:57 AM

No trevor can be bad but markus is equally bad

puzzlezToday at 3:57 AM

perrrrrrrfect

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3:57 AM

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i picture trevor kinda secretly watching markus for cues sometimes on what to do??

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3:57 AM

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i mean porn shows u terrible, fake, unrealistic sex

WelshenToday at 3:57 AM

And markus is normally not very perceptive

puzzlezToday at 3:57 AM

at best u learn how to bend your hips back forward in impossible yoga/sex moves

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3:58 AM

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and since he tried those and learned nothing trevor knows nada about actual relationships with dudes

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3:58 AM

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so i had a feeling he was going to sort of quietly watch markus for leads on what to do

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3:58 AM

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so markus being bad at teaching + panicked trevor + cheesy pickup line + markus confused + markus not able to flirt back = a terrible awkward but adorable couple of doofuses

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3:58 AM

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and this i can absolutely work with

WelshenToday at 3:59 AM

Markus can do it technically but not very enthusiastically?? If that makes sense

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3:59 AM

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He gets better but u kno

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3:59 AM

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Yes i hope that works

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3:59 AM

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Theyre both idiots

puzzlezToday at 3:59 AM

i think that makes sense

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4:00 AM

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maybe squint

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4:00 AM

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do you mean he like technically knows how/can think of something flirty to say but has no oomph behind it? like no drive to actually look/sound flirty?? or smth else?

WelshenToday at 4:02 AM

Yes pretty much

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4:03 AM

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I mean hes heard it all obv but that was more or less when he got paid so it sounds fake to him i guess(edited)

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4:04 AM

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So he can repeat it but i doubt he knows how to mean it? Or that he could stick to things he ACTUALLY means (but hed be too awk to say)

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4:04 AM

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And that goes for all relationship hijinks

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4:05 AM

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Jo was a weird mix of paid and cute stalker?? They didnt flirt so much as get along

puzzlezToday at 4:06 AM

yeahh okay

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4:06 AM

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it makes sense tho

WelshenToday at 4:07 AM

Hey hes a mess

puzzlezToday at 4:07 AM

i made a char who was a prostitute and if deffo made him bad at relationships for similar reasons

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4:07 AM

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(my ghost waja actually)

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4:07 AM

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(prostitute ghost waja)

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4:07 AM

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(v wajas appropriate)

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4:07 AM

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so then does markus actually uhh like idk enjoy sex?

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4:08 AM

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if he's done all kinds of stuff from vanilla to crazy-whatever-clients want stuff i'm assuming he's tried/seen most if not all flavors of sex?

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4:08 AM

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so would it be 100% a chore to get through sex or would he still enjoy it in relationships?

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4:09 AM

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i wasn't sure how to write the sorta kinda sex scene with trevor for this reason squint

WelshenToday at 4:10 AM

Im pretty sure hes asexual but not aromantic, he definitely thinks its a chore but if its with someone he has a romantic interest in its a fun chore?(edited)

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4:10 AM

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And at this stage its the only way he knows how to connect with people well guys anyway

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4:12 AM

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Adam fits him better cuz hes got low interest in sex and markus prefers making out and cuddling?

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4:12 AM

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Thats like 10years later when markus has gotten some idea of what he prefers tho

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4:12 AM

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Does that even make sense

puzzlezToday at 4:13 AM

yeah

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4:13 AM

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like i said my one oc was a prostitute and he's of a similar uh... mind? i guess is the word?

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4:13 AM

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in that regard

WelshenToday at 4:13 AM

Yeah

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4:14 AM

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Im sure theres plenty of types of people, but these ones just do it as any other job?

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4:14 AM

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I think markus referred to it as not much difference to idk toilet janitor, he even prefers this cuz he can lay down and nap lol

puzzlezToday at 4:15 AM

omfgggg

WelshenToday at 4:16 AM

Probably napped while working to be honest

puzzlezToday at 4:16 AM

yeh my char did it purely for money and he's impatient af but decent at acting so an extent to he pretended to enjoy company of his clients for the money but secretly hated most of them and the kinkier ones ruined sex for him in a way? like it's just "pretend and act out these ridiculous things" so he doesn't really enjoy sex, figures it's a chore, just gotta see it through to the end, and that mindset continues with him for a while(edited)

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4:16 AM

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but i can see markus napping

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4:17 AM

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lazy bones boy

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4:17 AM

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so i'm guessing markus wouldn't really initiate sex then

WelshenToday at 4:18 AM

He would if trevor made him uncomfortable enough

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4:18 AM

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Cuz at lesst he knows how to do THAT

puzzlezToday at 4:19 AM

yeah okay that makes sense

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4:19 AM

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poor kid tho rofl

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4:20 AM

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so i'm assuming trevor is bad as gay sex in general because never tried before but

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4:20 AM

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would he be the type to be eager to learn, like want to please markus in bed, or would he be a more impatient/selfish lover, like i wanna race to the end and if we figure out how to please you along the way, then good perf

WelshenToday at 4:22 AM

Probably the first

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4:22 AM

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If it was the second one markus would start to feel cheated out of money

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4:23 AM

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Well i mean its not easy to do but by that i mean even if trevor is done theyd still make out enough for markus to get over it

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4:23 AM

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Squint

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4:23 AM

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This is very difficult

puzzlezToday at 4:24 AM

omg snort

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4:24 AM

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i think i get what you mean tho

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4:24 AM

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markus gets "paid" in uh... affection/devotion?idk if that's the right word but

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4:24 AM

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trevor focusing on some kind of need of markus would be like "payment" in a convoluted sense for the sex?(edited)

WelshenToday at 4:25 AM

Yes

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4:25 AM

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Pretty much exactly

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4:26 AM

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Well markus hasnt had a currency free relationship yet

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4:27 AM

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Thinks every bit of affection is to be paid or payment for smth

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4:27 AM

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This is babys first real bf tbh(edited)

puzzlezToday at 4:29 AM

trevor?

WelshenToday at 4:30 AM

Markus

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4:30 AM

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Well trevors too

puzzlezToday at 4:30 AM

okay yeh i thought you meant markus/trevor

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4:30 AM

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making sure

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4:30 AM

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first real bfs with each other

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4:31 AM

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sad the relationship goes up in such flames

WelshenToday at 4:31 AM

Yes well

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4:31 AM

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It was really neithers fault

puzzlezToday at 4:32 AM

and yet the flames buuuurn

WelshenToday at 4:32 AM

But markus is the one on his own after

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4:32 AM

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Unless u count spencer

puzzlezToday at 4:32 AM

do u count spencer

WelshenToday at 4:32 AM

As a minus i do

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