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fixfoxnox · 1 year

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Bro just wanted to smash and rule the world go figure

I AM JOKING BTW, I absolutely love how you write Makarov, he is so messed up Canon Makarov is extremely messed up; have yall seen the list of crimes he committed IT WAS A WHOLE ESSAY, so no, i will not hear anyone out if someone just as mention Makarov and the word “kinda” in the same sentence

Im curious though (and this is in terms of writing not by your charcter/personality!!) was the plane scene supposed to go in this kinda direction cause I remember reading the scene after they touched down and Makarov mentioned that Roach couldn’t walk (??) like has Makarov in your own vision ever thought of just being a huge A-hole and traumatising dear ol bug here early on in the story, Of course you don’t have to answer if this goes beyond your boundaries tho

Okay but Makarov is kinda 👀👀/j

As for your question, I've actually had a few people question this in the comments before along with a couple of people who definitely thought that was what I was implying in that scene, so let's talk about it.

Warnings ahead for discussion of dub-con and non-con:

So I would like to just start off by saying that when I initially introduced Makarov, I never even intended to take is as far as I did. Like the seduction scene was never even supposed to happen. All of that was meant to be left up to interpretation.

However, when I first started writing Makarov in his first scene, I was really struggling because thats just the kind of villain that he felt like to me? Like I think I've mentioned it before in one of the posts about him, but I do think that if the cod fandom had really blown up like it has back when MW2 and MW3 came out, there would be a shit ton of stuff about Makarov fanfic wise.

Like, in Canon, he's very smooth and calculated. Whenever we hear him speak, he is calm and collected. Even at the end of MW3, when his entire plan has failed and fallen through, he's still so calm. He still finds it in himself to calmly taunt Price about Soap's death. Compare this also with Allen's death where Makarov makes a point to pull him in close before shooting him, and my mind was going one direction. Smooth villain who plays psychological games.

So the way that manifested in that first scene with Roach, was through the touching. He's showing Roach that he's in control. And that was all the touching was really meant to be, was showing control.

Then we get to the church scene, the infamous church scene. While I was writing this, I kinda got hit hard with the question of, "why is Makarov keeping Roach alive?"

Like I'd considered the question briefly in earlier chapters, but I was never forced to actually face it until I got to that chapter. Because I wanted to write this torture scene. I could see it so vividly in my head. But why would Makarov torture this guy? Why would he keep Roach alive.

At this point I considered the sort of obsessive love thing and I decided "okay, its not going to be just up for interpretation anymore. Its going to be explicit." So I wrote the church scene and I kept writing their interactions with the thought that I was never going to take it further. Makarov was never actually going to get his hands on Roach in that way.

So when I wrote the plane scene, I actually did not have any form of S/A in my mind at all. I wanted to press Makarov's touchieness. I wanted to press his obsession/love for Roach. But that was it and I wrote it without S/A in mind.

Roach not being able to walk was supposed to imply that it wasn't just that one moment of Makarov hurting him that we saw, but rather that Makarov had essentially tortured him on the plane ride back. It actually wasn't until I had people comment on it that I realized it could be perceived that way. And I am all up for interpretation, so if someone believed that that happened, then that's for them to decide. However it was never intended to be that way.

Then we got to the next chapter. To the seduction scene. I cannot tell you where the idea for this chapter came from. All that I know is that I had two scenes in mind. One where Roach has a dream about his Past! Simon where Past! Simon tells him how seductive he is without even trying. And another scene where Roach quotes Makarov's words from the plane back to him.

I actually struggled with this chapter a lot. While writing it came rather easy to me, I'm a very anxious person and I knew that this was taking a step further than I had intended to go with the fic. I kept trying to justify it in my mind of like "oh its going to be implied but nothing will actually happen!"

Eventually I just had to sit down with myself and go, "Its my fic, if people don't like it, they don't have to read. This is how the story has naturally progressed. You know that you won't take it further than this."

So in the initial idea for this chapter and the following ones, it was going to be that more intimate touches were the extent of what happened.

That went down the drain very heavily with Chapter 19.

When I started writing that scene at the end with Makarov, it actually took me much longer than it should have to write. I had the ideas, I knew I wanted it to be painful, but I kept stopping because I felt like I was taking things too far. Again, I'm a very anxious person, I never intended the fic to go down this path.

This was the only chapter in which I genuinely considered writing out a scene of explicit S/A. It would have been closer to the end. Its mentioned during one of the last sections that Makarov shoves his hand under Roach's shirt and into his pants to dig into his wounds. I'd considered, at this moment, having Makarov forcefully kiss Roach and literally grab him while muttering about what his plans were for him when he got him alone.

I did genuinely consider it. I even came here to post about whether or not I should do it or not. But the second that someone commented mentioning it, I decided that I didn't want to do that. I did not want to take things that far.

What we have instead, and the absolute farthest that I've been willing to take it is dub-con. Because while Roach "consented" to Makarov's affections, the truth is that he was only doing it to survive.

This is something that has actually been coming up in some of the chapters I'm writing now. And even this is causing Roach a lot of distress and self-hatred, I just don't think I would have been able to write a scene with explicit S/A or even implied that it happened and be able to properly handle the fall out of it.

That all being said, I do think Makarov definitely thought about Roach a lot and definitely fantasized about him. But I do think, with the way I wrote him, it wouldn't have made sense in the end for him to actually S/A Roach or even think about it.

You'll notice in his POV that I wrote, while he does fantasize about Roach a lot (like a lot, man is so horny for Roach) he always stops himself and controls himself. He tends to mention that he "needs to take things slow." This is his mind set even to the point that he doesn't take things further even after Roach has given "consent."

This is because his end goal is to have Roach completely. He wants Roach to be dependent on him. He wants Roach to love him. He's smart. He knows that if he does something like that, its going to make turning Roach to his side much harder. Its why he doesn't even kiss Roach until he essentially gets permission at the end.

He is really evil. He is really horny for Roach. But he also is very smart and knows people. He isn't going to push things too for too quickly. The only time he even gets close to that is during his last chapter, when he gets so angry/possessive/stressed that he allows himself to break Roach down physically. (However, again you may notice that even in that scene he doesn't start attacking until Roach does. Most of the time he wants Roach to make the first move so that he's somewhat justified in hurting him.)

This was kinda a long winded response lol, but I did want to talk about it and I do think it gives a mit more insight into my thought process/Makarov's character.

#thoughts with luke #you asked luke #something in the orange #vladimir makarov

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liquorisce · 1 year

Text

scarf girl & idiot boy

pairing: eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman

rating: t | read on ao3

summary: [Reincarnation AU. crackfic]

Eren is in his final year of high school. He's always been an imaginative kid but now his imagination won't seem to give him a break. As a result of intense flashbacks / dissociative episodes his therapist advises him to keep a journal, to get in touch with his emotions and let them all out.

Except it wasn't his imagination, these were his memories. Why doesn't anybody understand?!

…

“So, what about this girl?”

Right, Eren. What about this girl? As my mother asked me that, I was struck with this ridiculous urge to prattle on about how she had a scar on her right cheek, a mole right beneath that, and even though she usually kept her hair short, long hair was simply gorgeous on her. She was humanity’s strongest, and so fucking smart, she was incredible. She could do anything and excel at it; she was one of those people that you could trust with your life.

And how is it that despite not really knowing this girl, I knew so much about her? Fuck if I know. The only thing I did know, however: “I think she’s my wife. Sort of.”

Day 1

Mom bought this notebook for me and told me I’m supposed to write in it every day. Journaling, she said. It’s good for you, Eren. It’ll help you sort out all those thoughts in your head.

That’s what she called it. Thoughts in my head. That’s what she told the doctor the first time she brought me in. My son, you see, he’s a good kid. He’s got a lot of spirit. He’s very intelligent. But. And here was the kicker, there was always a but. He gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes. And then he doesn’t come out. Even if I shake him. I feel like he’s someplace else, you know.

Well, yes, it turns out the good doctor did know. Or he had some theories, anyway. ADHD was the top favourite, it was an easy one for Mom and Dad to digest. Tons of kids have it. It was one of those disorders that parents could swallow because it didn’t mean their kid didn’t have potential. It was a better alternative than plain delusional, I suppose.

I’d heard it my whole damn life.

Eren, you’re distracted.

Eren where’d you go off to?

Eren.

Ereh.

I had one of those short names that people liked to use like punctuation. But nobody said my name right. It’s a peculiar thing, but I was convinced my name wasn’t meant to be pronounced with the full N, it was meant to end on a faint sound, somewhat breathy, somewhat feminine…

Ugh. This is the problem. None of it feels right, because I already know what is right. I’ve experienced it before. It’s in my memories. But nobody understands that. They say I have an active imagination. When I was a kid apparently I had an imaginary friend, too. A blonde wimp named Armin who needed my help to deal with bullies. When I was younger I believed it when Mom gently broke it to me that he wasn’t real, but now I’m not sure anymore. Sometimes when I stand in a group of friends, his sparkling blue eyes and his golden bowl cut feel more real than the faces in front of me.

But this is all I’ve got to figure it out. It’s you and me, motherfucker. So go on and do your Tom Riddle thing where you make sense of things to me, because I’m dying to hear it.

Day 3

I forgot to write yesterday because I’m not really good at keeping up with a habit. Or writing for that matter. I’m okay at school essays and like, some short stories I wrote as a kid were decent, but I never really thought of making a hobby out of it. And writing about myself too, why would I do that? I have to spend enough time inside this head of mine feeling absolutely crazy and out of control, I don’t know how writing down what’s in my head is supposed to make it any better.

But mom yelled at me to journal, so here I am.

She’s pissy because I turned up today with godawful marks on my french test, ten out of forty scribbled in big red letters. In my defence, I only attempted the first thirteen questions, because my brain kind of froze up mid-test when I got these weird flashes of sitting in a classroom with wooden desks and a crazy brown-haired person with goggles on their head trying to teach us about human-eating monsters. It sounds wild to me even as I write it, but trust me that shit was real. They were big and red and butt-ugly and I’m convinced that I’ve repressed some particularly traumatic memories of them breaking people in half like Twix and popping them in their mouths. I think the feeling of watching something like that never goes away, no matter how many lives you lead.

I’d like to imagine that if these really are my memories— because sure, I may be a visionary or whatever, but these visions were too clear— I was a badass hero leading the fight against these monsters, and eventually, my side won. Otherwise, what even was the point?

Day 4

I keep thinking about those fucking monsters. Journalling is doing something to me. It’s making me think about these things more and more. How else do I explain the pit in my stomach that’s refused to go away ever since I finished last night’s journal entry?

Why can’t I shake the feeling that I was so so wrong about something? What if I wasn’t the hero? Maybe I was just a massive fail and my dwindling grades are like, a mirror to the events of my past life or something.

Day 7

Whatever, I know I didn’t journal for two days and my last entry was just a pathetic scribble but I needed some time off. My therapist said this was supposed to help me get in touch with emotions not stress me the fuck out and make me never want to confront them again. Anyway, I took the weekend off, and actually spent my time trying to clear my head in more effective ways. Like smoking weed with my friend Maks.

Mom, if you’re reading this (I know you are, I saw you combing through my journal just yesterday, you’re so obvious) then please for the love of God, don’t get all weird and make passive-aggressive comments when you know already that I smoke. And don’t pretend that you don’t because you totally did. Why else would I eat that much? No teenage boy needs five helpings of your curry no matter how good it is, it’s because of the munchies. Now read further at your own risk, that’s all I’m saying.

So yeah, back to Maks. He always steals weed from his sister Laura, and wades straight into her bag without any concern for her privacy. I don’t know, but I always heard you aren’t meant to be rummaging in a girl’s bag (or anyone’s for that matter), so I just, like, stand outside and make polite conversation with her while he’s flicking her goods.

I guess that sounds bad, but you get it. Laura’s pretty and to be honest, I think she’s kind of sweet on me. She’s always kinda blushy when I talk to her and there’s no need to be, she’s twenty years old and I know she’s had boyfriends before. But she always gives me way more attention than what her idiot brother’s friend deserves. I’ve thought about asking her out on a date, but it seemed like a lot of effort when all I really wanted to know was if she kisses nice.

I thought about it a little more today when we were smoking with some of the other guys, on the rooftop of Peter’s part-time job. I couldn’t really discuss it with them openly because I didn’t think honesty was the best policy when it concerned getting into Maks’s sister’s pants, but I wish I could, because I was still a fucking virgin. I wanted to get laid and I think if I asked, Laura might say yes. I just didn’t know how.

And then I thought about it some more when I came back home and sank into my bed, stoned as fuck. I undid my jeans and opened up pornhub and scrolled through a bunch of thumbnails that all looked so fucking similar. And then, weirdly, I just shut my phone off and stared at the ceiling.

I think all the dilly-dallying about Laura stems from the fact that I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to fuck Laura. Maybe I was a virgin loser, but I was pretty certain I didn’t have… feelings for her. Like, she was nice and everything, but I didn’t like her. I know what it’s like to like somebody, I think. It’s crazy intense and kind of one-dimensional and a little bit like black hair and pink lips and a dark red scarf.(????)

What the fuck. Did I just write. Where did that even come from.

I’m done with this journalling thing, man. I’m out.

Day 9

I’m not happy about this, you know. I just want to be a normal teenage kid who jerks off to porn and maybe sleeps with his friend’s sister so he isn’t a virgin when he goes to college. That’s it. I have simple desires.

LEAVE ME ALONE SCARF GIRL.

Day 10

I can’t stop thinking about her. I wish I could think about the human-eating monsters again. At least that was morbidly fascinating. This just gives me a clawing, uncertain sensation in the pit of my stomach and doesn’t let up until my thoughts are filled with some Japanese girl with the prettiest eyes I have ever seen, and a body like I hadn’t even thought of fantasizing about. It’s crazy, I feel obsessed with somebody I haven’t even met. And I know this for sure because I went through all the class photos and I know nobody who looks like that.

Maybe I should talk to the doc again. I’m definitely delusional.

Day 11

I saw the doc again. He isn’t convinced that I’m having delusions despite my twenty-minute spiel about the biology of ugly monsters I keep dreaming of. I explained in great detail that they were weird as hell: They had this weird human anatomy but none of the fun bits, and they kept eating humans but they couldn’t digest them for some reason. So they’d keep eating people and then get too full and puke ‘em all out into a disgusting ball of human glump and continue their binge. It was like a bizarre take on the Capitol citizens from the Hunger games.

At the end of it, all he told me was that I should journal more and referred to me some creative writing workshops at the community college. And this was even before I even could tell him about the insanely beautiful girl with the red scarf that I haven’t stopped daydreaming about for three days now.

After coming home I got a little crazy and had a little meltdown about how nobody was taking me seriously which Dad thought was par for course for a seventeen-year-old, but Mom got a little snivelly. She came to my room later and gave me a hug and asked if I was acting out because I missed my birth parents. I didn’t know how to react to that so I just hugged her back and told her that I haven’t thought about them in years. Although now I wish I knew them a bit better, because maybe then I’d know for sure if I’m delusional or not because psychiatric disorders usually have genetic history.

The truth is, I don’t remember much about my birth parents. Mom and Dad have taken care of me since I was three, and apart from the fact that I’m a little weirdo in a family of two very normal, high-functioning adults, I’ve never felt like I didn’t belong here.

Mom, I love you even though you never respect my privacy and are currently reading this journal.

Day 12

I was googling “memories of past lives” and I somehow found myself on the Wikipedia for Hinduism. It’s a religion where people believe in having many lives. Everybody goes through birth, life and death and then rebirth again because this torture isn’t enough the first time apparently.

Is that what this is? I’m a cat with too many lives, now?

Day 13

I thought I’d found religion but I spent one day listening to a guru with 9.6 million Instagram followers and I’m convinced this shit will only make me crazier.

Anyway, midterms start in three days, and I know more about “samsara” than I do about Kirschoff’s laws, so see you later.

Day 20

I’ve hidden this stupid diary away and planted a fake where my mom keeps looking. I need my privacy, for fuck’s sake.

I had History today and I swear to God, I almost threw up when it came to answering the final question on the Holocaust (Ten fucking marks!!!). I started writing it, felt nauseous, excused myself to the bathroom, stared at myself in the mirror, came back only to ask to be excused all over again. Miss Jenny definitely thought I was cheating. She kept hovering over me after I came back, when I was too busy trying not to throw up on her.

It’s as if, every time I began to write about the Genocide of WWII, I could almost picture the innocents walking to their death. This is not to say that I don’t think what happened was absolutely terrible, but I cannot afford to get emotional during a fucking history exam.

What’s worse is every time I kept picturing this one boy… this tiny boy with an interesting cap on his head, who looked in my direction with the most puzzling expression. A smile, that then turned into confusion, which then turned into fear. As if I was the one responsible for not only his misery, but that of his entire people. I know it sounds absurd but I really wanted him to know that I felt terrible about what happened. I mean, I had nothing to do with the Holocaust, obviously, but I’m sorry he had to go through it. That anybody had to go through something as terrifying as being persecuted and demonized for something they had no control over.

I keep thinking about that boy. I wonder what his name was. I wish he could experience the world like I do, now. I wish he could be free too.

Day 25

I had math today and it was alright, I suppose. I’m not very good at it, so I can’t judge if I’ve done okay or not. I was more interested in History and Civics, Languages that type of thing. Right on my way to a life of making no money.

While walking back, I tried asking Maks what he thought about the History exam, and more specifically all our tutelage about the Holocaust.

“What do you mean, how do I feel about it? It’s all bad, obviously, you know that.”

“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Of course it’s bad. But about why it’s bad. Do you ever, just, you know, feel really terrible about it? That so many people thought it wasn’t bad when it was happening?”

“I mean,” he said. “Not really. Because it’s not really something you have to think about. It’s obviously bad. We’ve been learning how bad it is, ever since we could read our ABCs. Why would I waste my time thinking about something that I already know is terrible? I already know it!”

I couldn’t argue with that logic anymore. I don’t know why I even bothered with Maks, because I already knew not much went on inside his head, but I didn’t have anyone else I could talk to. At times like this, I really miss Armin, the wimpy blonde in my head that I used to hang out with because I knew he would engage in meaningful conversation about this. He’d probably say something smart about propaganda or the power of narrative or something.

When I was a kid I was convinced that he was the smartest person on the planet (when he wasn’t even on the planet), because he knew all about Volcanoes and the Mariana Trench and the Sahara and all I knew was the Pokemon type chart. I knew it by heart, by the way. I still do.

I came home and my over-perceptive parents exchanged glances, probably signalling to each other that their kid really was a loser and that there wasn’t much hope. Then Mom hovered over me to an uncomfortable degree, making me want to scream. The thing is, I don’t even know what to tell her. Wasn’t I too old to be discussing feelings with her anyway?? How am I supposed to tell her with a straight face that I was bawling in the toilet after my exam because Ramzi was just a poor kid in the wrong place at the wrong time???

… Ramzi.

Who the fuck is Ramzi?

Day 30

Exams are over. I went with the boys for burgers after school, and we all hotboxed inside Peter’s car before heading over to the restaurant.

Maybe it’s the mood I’ve been in for the past couple of weeks, but I’m starting to realise that my friends are idiots. And I don’t mean that in the affectionate sense. Peter wants to go into Investment Banking but can’t pass math. He’ll probably keep working at the Mobile store.

Maks wants to be a cop. In this neighbourhood. I think the only crime we have around here is bicycle theft and no cop ever helps you get your bike back. You just fork out twenty bucks to buy somebody else’s stolen bike from the shady dudes near the central station. The same ones that lurk in the shadows asking if you want a bike, the same way thugs ask if you want drugs. Bikes are like a community commodity around here. It all goes into the same pool and everybody dips into it.

Hamza wants to help his dad out at his falafel shop and to be honest, that’s the most honourable thing to come out of the lot of us. If you ask me, it’s the best food in town.

But they’re all just so…!!! They make me want to tear my hair out. They seem so okay with everything. With themselves. With their families. With this silly little town. Nothing will change for them after they finish school, and they’re perfectly content with that.

When I was ranting about this to dad over dinner, he asked me, with his little indulgent smile, “Well then, what do you want to do Eren? How are you going to make your life more significant than your friends?”

I was stumped. The truth is I’ve never really pictured anything beyond this, beyond my teenage years. I’ve never once thought about what it would be like to be an actual adult. Huh.

Day 31

I can’t sleep. I keep dreaming. My dreams are flashes of people’s faces, blood and large horrifying caricatures of human beings whose faces are stuck in a terrifying smile. It’s 3:23 and I woke up crying because my mind seemed fixated on this one woman who was struggling in the monster’s grasp before she was broken in two and tossed in its mouth.

And when I woke up, I felt the wisps of a soft feminine voice ask me, “Why are you crying, Eren?” I wanted to reach out and hold on to her, beg her to tell me what was going on. But the more I rubbed the tears from my eyes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was scarf girl.

Why? I couldn’t tell you. Once I wake, my dreams slowly begin to lose clarity, fading into the noise of the real world and making me doubt my sanity more than ever. But this time when I woke, I felt the lingering sensation of long tresses brushing my face as somebody loomed over me. The strings of wool from a fluffy red scarf. The voice of somebody I was dying to hear.

Day 38

Yo. it’s been a while. Lots of things have happened since I last wrote here.

We had term break and I’ve been working on the Weber’s shed (they’re paying me for the help). Honestly, the last set of dreams I had really fucked me up, so when Maks asked me to help with sawing wood, hammering things into place and just in general, not think, it sounded like a great plan.

And if I had to stand in the sun without a shirt on when I knew Laura would be looking, I didn’t mind. Well, actually, I hadn’t really thought about it until I saw her staring out her window, right at me.

I suppose I could write a whole story about how we had conversations with our eyes and licked lollipop ice candies on her porch together where I saw a little drop of candied water fall onto her chest and in between her cleavage, thereby making me want to lick it off of her skin, etc, but it really wasn’t that poetic. I was shirtless, and she was wearing her tiny warm-weather shorts, lips purple from the ice candies we had just gobbled down, and I guess she just asked me one time why I’d never made a move. I didn’t have an answer for her apart from making a move then and there, and some minutes later we ended up in her bedroom with me on my back and her tits dangling in my face.

Tl:dr; I slept with Laura. I know it’s something I said I wanted some time ago, but as soon as we were done, I couldn’t separate our bodies fast enough. Brown hair matted across her forehead as she looked at me with expectation in her eyes. I couldn’t even look at her. The general public might crucify me as an asshole, but I just felt weird inside. She kept looking at me the entire time, large, soft brown eyes staring into mine as her hair spread all over me as she rode me.

I suppose I did alright for a first time; I got off, she orgasmed first so I guess that’s a success. Laura was quite self-sufficient at the whole sex thing, honestly, it was as if she used me to get off and I let her. It all felt like a scam to me, instead of being excited about grabbing my first pair of tits all I could think was that this wasn’t right. There was an unfamiliarity about Laura that unsettled me, and I’m not sure what it was. But every time she scolded me affectionately, or brought my hands to her body to show me what she liked, I felt a little bit nauseous.

And when she scrambled for the bedsheets after and asked if everything was alright, I had never felt like a bigger fuckup.

“I thought you enjoyed it,” she said, her voice getting a little bit high and somewhat accusatory. “You came right? I was pretty sure you came.”

“I did, yeah. It’s not that, Laura, the sex was… you were, I mean, it was all very nice. I just… maybe I don’t feel well. I’m sorry.” (NICE!! God, I’m such a fuckin idiot)

“You seemed pretty well when you stuck your tongue in my mouth and felt me up over my bra.” Every word she said just made me feel worse.

“Do you have a girlfriend or something?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose while I struggled with the most obvious, factual answer. But instead, with guilt burning my cheeks, all I said was, “... or something.”

Day 39

After telling Laura that the sex was “nice,” I’ve been holed up in my room wondering, not for the first time, what the fuck was wrong with me.

When I went down to have my muesli in the morning, Mom trapped me into a conversation. “You’ve been so dull lately, sweetheart,” she said, with her usual concern. It’s at times like this that I wish she would stop piling on the verbal concern and just bully the doctor into giving me some medication. Surely I could get some good ol’ pills for these hallucinations and I’d be okay.

Instead, in keeping with my latest tradition of saying things I have not thought through, I blurted out, “Mom, did you always know you were going to be married to Dad?”

She looked taken aback for a second. “Is that what’s got you down? Love problems? Oh, honey—”

“Just answer the question, Mom. Don’t psychoanalyse.”

“Well, not really, Eren. You see, I love your father very much, but I met him only when I was twenty-seven, and I’d had my fair share of experimentation and mistakes by then.”

I nodded vigorously. See, this was normal.

“Is there somebody on your mind?”

I debated telling her for a split second, but my impulsiveness got the better of me. “I suppose there is, yeah.”

“Is it somebody I know?” Mom probed gently. She probably expected a different answer, because she’s been giving these sly smiles wherever Laura was concerned for a while now, so when I said, “Not really,” she blinked at me in surprise.

“The thing is, even I don’t really know her. Not exactly in the way you would usually know somebody, I mean.”

She blinked at me some more, looking as confused as I sounded. “There’s this girl,” I told her, my voice dropping down to a whispered mumble, “... this Japanese girl, I think, she keeps showing up in my dreams.”

“You mean the same dreams as the one with the monsters…?” She asked, carefully keeping her voice neutral.

If anything, my mother has always listened to me, I’ll give her that. “They’re called titans, apparently.” Crucial information from my last night’s terrors. “And yeah. The same ones. I think. I really do think they’re all set in the same world.”

The more I listen to myself, the more I feel like I’m describing some kind of fantasy role-playing game.

“So, what about this girl?”

And how is it that despite not really knowing this girl, I knew so much about her? Fuck if I know. The only thing I did know, however: “I think she’s my wife. Sort of.”

Mom was speechless. “I know you think I’m crazy, Mom,” I told her. “But I just. I know it. Inside.” I sounded crazier with every word I said. Mom’s expression grew more pitying by the minute.

She caressed my hair with a sad sort of affection in her eyes. “You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you, Eren?”

My shoulders slumped; I felt defeated. I could see that she wasn’t taking me seriously, again. Well, what did I expect? If a seventeen-year-old told his mother that he was dreaming about a girl he didn’t even know, but somehow knew that she was his wife?? Man, even I couldn’t take myself seriously.

Day 41

Aside from being totally mortified, that conversation with Mom did bear fruit. I don’t know what she told the doc, but when I went for my appointment today, I left with an assortment of pills that were supposed to make me “feel better.”

I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t feeling depressed, just crazy, but by this time I’m willing to try anything. So here goes nothing!!

Day 46

I’ve been taking the pills for five days now, but nothing feels different. The doc says it takes some time for my body to react. I don’t really understand it because I’m usually the impulsive, reactionary type, but okay I guess. When it comes down to it, your brain just runs on a bunch of chemicals and these medicines are supposed to help me balance out the equations. (Doc's words, not mine.)

Today when we walked back from the grocery store, I saw an Asian family loading their trunk with groceries. There was an elderly couple and a woman (I think), who was doing most of the heavy lifting. Mom was grumbling about how chickpea pasta wasn’t a good enough way to boost her protein, but for some reason, that family caught my attention. I found myself craning my neck to get a look at the woman whose back was all I could see (a nice back, if I must say).

Mom thumped me lightly on the shoulder and asked what the hell I was doing.

It was kind of embarrassing because I know what it looked like. That I was busy checking out some woman’s ass with my mom right next to me. But it wasn’t that, I promise.

I mumbled an apology. But when we went further Mom suddenly looked at me all funny and was like, “Eren. You shouldn’t fetishize people, you know.”

Naturally, I was gobsmacked?!??!???

Turns out, Mom put two-and-two together; first my “imaginary” (I didn’t like it when she said that, by the way. There was nothing imaginary about this woman. She was real. Our relationship was real.) wife, and then this Asian-looking family. Ridiculous! I did not think today was the day I’d get schooled by my mother about having an Asian fetish!!

Anyway, school starts tomorrow and I’m nervous because we’ll be getting our grades and term papers back. (Blegh)

Day 47

I feel like I’m about to explode. I have so many feelings, holy shit, I’m literally in the middle of class as I write this, I don’t even know where to begin.

In an effort to start at the beginning, here goes:

I THINK I’VE FOUND SCARF GIRL.

AND SHE’S MY FUCKING MATH TEACHER ASLFADFKDSGL

I walked into school expecting the same old boring drivel as every other term, and mostly the morning had implied exactly that. Kris complimented my hair (I’d grown it longer despite my father’s insistence about cutting it, simply because I felt I wasn’t rebelling enough. I was a teenager after all, I’ve to pay my dues.) and it felt nice, because at least something was different.

We had different classes and got back papers in each class, and my eyes glassed over pages and pages of mostly ok answers, but largely silly mistakes, and the big red circle indicating my very average grades. My classmates queued up to the teacher’s desk to try and get a better grade but I didn’t really care much for it.

History, as I predicted was a shitshow thanks to my brain, but I seem to have made up for my earlier performance in French, thanks to a solid hour of concentration in the exam.

Math was the last class of the day, and predictable Mr Hofferman, our grumbly old Math teacher was late. He was never late. He was one of those annoying teachers who was five minutes early, and would start his lesson as soon as the clock allowed him to, whether the rest of us had even sat down or not.

Ten minutes later— when the class had dissolved into little groups, girls sitting on the desks with their skirts bunched up high, boys chewing gum loudly even though we weren’t allowed to, complaining about how Mr Hofferman was for sure going to fuck all of us up with a ridiculously harsh marking scheme— a lady stumbled in, her hair looking wind-worn, in a pretty pink sweater and grey slacks. “Is this 4B,” she mumbled mostly to herself, craning her neck to see the door and confirm that it was, indeed, 4B. “Right, it is.” And then, in a most unusual turn of events, she set her books down and looked at us straight in the eye, and gave us the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen.

I don’t know about the others, but it took me several moments to recover.

She gave us a small, shy wave, and a little bow, and introduced herself as Mika Akkerman. Her mother was Japanese and her father was Japanese-German, and after retiring, her father wanted to come back to the little town where he was from. She told us she was very excited to teach us from now on, and in an absolutely adorable accent asked us to “please treat me well.”

There was such a violent shudder in my heart at that moment, I swear to God that I thought I was going to die.

After that, she gave the sweetest little laugh, pushed her hair back behind her ear and said, “Although, giving you your test results is probably not the best way to start a good relationship.”

As if I weren’t absolutely decimated by her beauty alone, what I saw at that moment threw me for a loop.

There was a scar. On her cheek. And a little mole right underneath it.

As I lay stumped in my seat, my mind racing a million miles per hour, trying to even grasp the implications of everything that lay in front of me, Miss Mika took her seat and began to go through our term papers, one by one. She decided she would call us all to the front, to introduce ourselves, so she could more personally explain her assessment.

“Eren,” she said, when it finally came to my turn, “Jaeger?”

Idiot that I am, I stayed motionless until Maks ribbed me and said, “Stop spacing out, Jaeger, it’s your turn.”

But I wasn’t spacing out. I don’t think I was ever more aware, or more present than in that fucking moment. The way she said my name, it finally felt right. Not Erren, Or Erin, Or Erain, But Ereh, kind of with the n a little bit silent, just a little breathy noise from her tiny nose, sounding kind of intimate like she’d spent a lifetime saying my name that way.

She shook my hand, as she seemed to have done for every student, and fixed me with those gorgeous grey eyes. I was probably trembling like a fucking loser. (This is not how I wanted to reconnect with my wife!!!!)

“You have a nice name,” she said, thoughtfully. “It’s interesting that you have styled it in the American way.”

That’s when I looked down at my paper. I’d signed it Eren “Yeager”. Which I never do, usually. My name is Eren Jäger; we usually understand the umlauts around here. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I told her truthfully. It was the understatement of the year.

She then gave me a polite smile (it was so pretty, I swear, every time she smiles, I feel like a character straight out of a shoujo manga replete with heart eyes), and proceeded to walk me through my math paper.

I have no fucking clue what she said because all I could think about was that her voice was so nice. And every time she said my name I felt my cheeks grow hot.

In the end, she looked at me sweetly and said, “Well, don’t be discouraged, Ereh. Math is all about learning a few tricks and then you’ll master it, no doubt.” Which was excellent because now I was certain that I hadn’t left a particularly wonderful impression with my paper. Despite that, it appears my shamelessness reached new heights when she asked me if I had any questions, and all I felt compelled to ask was, “How old are you, exactly?”

She blinked at me, and then stuttered a nervous laugh. “I always forget how direct everybody is around here. I’m 23.” And then, as if that was the real problem here, she said spiritedly, “But don’t underestimate me! What I lack in experience, I make up for with enthusiasm!”

Oh boy. I didn’t doubt it.

Now I’m back in my seat, barely acknowledging my dismal performance both academically and socially. My brain is buzzing restlessly. I can barely pay attention to anything that is being said to me (because, Mikasa wasn’t talking to me, it was mostly just Maks and Peter grumbling about their grades).

All I can think is… What the fuck?

I’ve never had a fully clear picture of the woman from my dreams but I know with startling clarity that this is her. I know it with my whole being. I knew it when she walked into class, when I saw her scar, when I heard her speak, when her eyes met mine. It’s like a flash went through my body, when we shook hands.

This isn’t normal. But does it really matter?

Because I think I’ve found my wife.

Day 46 contd

I have more updates.

As class ended, Mikasa piled up her books and then embarrassedly mumbled that she was still new here, and that perhaps she would get lost and in a twist of what is surely fate, she called out, “Eren Jaeger, do you think you might be able to help me find my way to the Teacher’s lounge?”

Of course, I would. I would do anything for her, she just didn’t know it yet.

As we walked there, I learnt some things about her. She didn’t like silences, she found them awkward. Which was just as well, because after she broke the first one with some polite comment about what a lovely school we had, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My only exposure to Japanese culture is from my interest in anime, and from what little I know, I’m pretty sure she thought I was completely rude and out-of-turn.

In a span of a few minutes, I asked her how long she’s been in town (just a week), where she came from (Kyoto), and whether she’s already settled (if she needed any help, she could feel free to ask me, you know). I tried my best to get a glimpse of her fingers but couldn’t, but I was pretty sure when we shook hands that I didn’t feel any rings. So she wasn’t married.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a partner. Or a fucking dog, that took up all her attention, I don’t know.

As I stood near her little desk in the teacher’s lounge as she talked about how different the weather was here compared to Japan, I felt fucking crazy. It’s only been forty-five minutes since I’ve seen her, but I want to know everything about her. I want to know what I’ve missed out on for so many years, and I want to make up for the fact that she was brought into the world five years too early.

I had this creepy desire to tell her that nothing mattered anymore, because she and I were meant to be together. Eventually, I got out of my head, and as I began to walk her to the school gates, I realised that this was the end of our time together today. She would go home, and probably not think of me for the rest of the evening, while I spent every waking moment (and probably my sleeping ones too) filled with thoughts of her. “Why did you come here, Mikasa?”

“Ah, like I said, my father was born here and wanted to come back, so—“

“But why now? Why to this school? Why did you decide to come with them?”

She stuttered an answer at first, but then slowly her eyes narrowed at me. She watched me silently for a moment before she murmured, “Ereh, I never told you my name was Mikasa.”

Shit.

“My name is Mika Akkerman. And I’m your teacher,” she said, her voice strained. There was an antsy, faraway look in her eye, as she spoke. “… You should talk to me with respect.” And then she turned around and left.

I ran back home, straight to my room and as I write this, I’m still shaking.

I don’t know why I called her Mikasa.

I don’t know why I spoke to her in such a familiar way.

I don’t know why when I look at her I felt like I’ve been waiting for so long, and that she has finally returned to me.

All I know is that I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’ve memorised that face, and I’ve listened to that voice so often, I would know it even as I lay in my grave. I’ve felt that skin against mine before, the same skin that held my hand so firmly today.

More than anything I knew that this was scarf girl. And the universe had finally brought us together.

#eremika #liquorisce fanfiction #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #aot

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queenofthearchipelago · 1 year

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Oh shit

I think I figured out why Mike lied in the monologue!!! I forgot to think of all of this from Mike's perspective, and Mike's perspective goes like this (super long post ahead, sorry but I think it's necessary!):

October, 1985:

I, Mike Wheeler, figured out that I don't really like El romantically. It's Fall now, and Starcourt Mall is a couple months behind us and the Byers are moving to California. Me and El have been friends this whole time, and it's been good. She's been grieving Hopper, but our relationship has been good. But we were helping pack up, and she comes in to tell me that Max told her what I said in the cabin that day months ago. El said that I talked about my feelings, my heart.

I remembered what I said, that I loved her. But I didn't mean it the way Max and everyone else heard it. And now Max told El I meant it romantically, but I didn't. So I tried to deny it, like I didn't remember it at all. But she didn't seem to mind, or care to think about why I would deny it. She didn't even seem to believe me when I said I didn't remember either though because she walked right up to me and told me she loved me too before she kissed me and walked away.

I wasn't even trying to be in a romantic relationship with her anymore and now I guess I am, again? How did this happen? What do I do? How do I...?

March, 1986:

So I'm going to California to visit El and Will for spring break. I remember telling El back in October that maybe I could visit for Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I said that before she kissed me and walked away. So it never happened. How do I feel what I feel and then fly to California to spend a holiday with my girlfriend who I don't love romantically?

But I do miss her. Like, really. And I definitely miss Will. I keep trying to call their house, but the phone is always busy because Joyce has that job. I just can't bring myself to write him a letter, I don't know why. I've been writing them to El. It just seems so personal, it's not a back and forth like a normal conversation. It's an essay of all the things in your mind. And what's on my mind is, not exactly something I'm ready to say out loud not to mention write down. And then after you send the letter, the other person gets this piece of paper that has your handwriting on it, it's something you held and cared for and curated for the person you're sending it to.

I don't know, I guess I don't know how to write Will a letter about how much I've missed him. How do I write down that Hawkins isn't the same without him? That nothing feels normal anymore? That high school sucks but it would be better if he was here? How do I write that down and feel good about sending it?

I haven't ever felt good about it, so I never wrote him anything either. So essentially, we haven't talked in months. But he never called me or wrote to me either, so maybe he doesn't want to talk. Maybe he's caught up in his new life in Lenora and there's no space for me in it anymore?

But anyway, I'm going to California now. And I am excited to go, I am.

I am.

The next day:

So I'm in Lenora. Not even 5 seconds after being there I get a welcome kiss from El. I expected it, so it's fine I suppose. I gave her flowers, because that's also expected. But also I did miss her, and I wanted to get her a gift. I wrote From, Mike on the card. Because I could write that down and feel okay about it. It is true, it's from me. And there's no way she can read that and think something I didn't mean to say.

I played the part of good boyfriend as best as I could the rest of the day. I really just wanted to hang out cause like I said, I did miss her. And Will, but he's been rolling his eyes and not been in a good mood all day.

Turns out that was because he blamed me for us not talking these past months. But why am I the bad guy? He could have called or written too.

I guess I was busy in Hawkins struggling with what to say to him while he was in Lenora hoping that I cared enough to reach out. I did care, I do care... I'll have to apologize for that later.

The day after that:

I went to talk to El today about why she lied to me and what happened last night. I didn't want to blame her, I just wanted to understand. I was bullied in school too, I could have empathized if nothing else. But the conversation got away from me. Suddenly we're talking about how I think she's a monster?

When did I say that? What did I say that she thinks that?

Apparently it was because I signed my letters From Mike. If I had signed them Love Mike, then that would have been proof I didn't think she was a monster. Letters from Beloved Mike are good and letters just From Mike... aren't.

She told me that I never said that I loved her. And I said that I did say it... which, isn't true. And I knew that. I don't say it. But that's only because she'd hear it differently than I mean it. What I meant to say was, I would mean it. I would mean it if I said it. I do love her. Just, not like that.

I was hoping she'd see through me, but she didn't. It felt like a fight I can't come back from. I tried so hard to keep her in my life, I want her in my life. But she seems to only want me around as a boyfriend. I was scared that if I told her how I really feel then I'd really lose her. And not just to California, but forever.

I guess I lost her anyway. Because I was just Mike. Not what she wanted.

The day after that:

So El got arrested and then I guess after that she got kidnapped by the government but she went willingly??? She left me this note that she was going to become a superhero again, From El.

It's weird to say it but there's kindof a relief to it. Don't get me wrong, I'm super worried I've completely lost her, but at least just this once she doesn't think I love her like that. So in a way, this is the most honest we've been in months.

Will was rambling about the government and El or something. He seemed to notice something was on my mind, he always does. I wanted to tell him all this stuff. That I don't love her like that. But she wanted me to say the words and I don't know how to say them the way I mean it. And I don't want to lose her completely over it, but I lost her anyway and now what do I do?

But how do I tell him that without him thinking I'm talking about something I'm also not talking about? And I don't know if I want him to know that I felt that way this whole time either. He and El are clearly a lot closer than they were last summer. He didn't hesitate to call himself her brother. And I've been dating El letting her and everyone else think I loved her that way. Maybe he won't get it, maybe I don't want him to get it.

Because why wouldn't I love her like that? She's great! She's awesome! She's a superhero! But I guess that was also part of El's problem?

And this is the spiral in which I find myself going ever downward.

So I don't tell Will exactly what's going on. Just that we had a fight because I couldn't say something and it feels like the end. He was nice about it, he said I'll see her again and I can say whatever I want to say then. Which is... true. It made me feel better. I still have time to figure out how to say what I mean. So that she gets it. It'll be okay.

I realized later that I never apologized to Will. So I went to his room and I told him part of what I couldn't find the courage to write down. That Hawkins wasn't the same without him. That I missed him a lot and that I was clearly so worried about El, about losing her, that I lost him instead.

I asked him if I made sense. Please tell me he gets this the way I mean it? He nods and I kept going. I told him that I didn't know what was going to happen but that I thought we should work together as a team. As friends. Best friends.

Please tell me you get what I mean? Please hear that I don't wanna lose you. You're what makes my life normal and everything is weird without you and please don't leave me. I won't leave you behind again, I'm sorry. You're the one I actually can't bear to lose.

He nodded and smiled at me. "Cool," he said.

I saw it in his eyes, he gets it. Thank goodness he gets it.

"Cool," I said back.

Later that day:

So, crazy stuff happened. The house got shot up and we ended up burying someone and we don't know where El is and then Argyle got in my face that this was all about my superhero girlfriend and they were probably going to kill her.

I just... I wasn't ready for that. The thought that she might die and not know how I feel about her. That they might kill her and we ended off like we did. That she might die and think I didn't love her at all.

I zoned out a bit after Argyle left for the van. I don't know how long I must have stared at the ground but when I looked up, Will was already looking at me. I was kind of taken aback. There was so much... compassion and... understanding in his eyes. I quickly looked away, but I also kept looking back up. It's hard to stare straight at something so kind and vulnerable, but I also never wanted to look away, just to make sure I was really seeing it.

Will pulled me aside after that, he wanted to comfort me about what Argyle said. But Argyle wasn't wrong. I said that I should have explained myself cause then maybe El would have taken me with her. Maybe if she knew how I actually felt about her. That I did actually love her, and could get her to understand what I meant, then she'd want me there with her for whatever she's going through right now. But I didn't know what to say, how to say it.

Then Will the Wise came back, and he told me how sometimes it's scary to open up how you want to. Because what if they don't like the truth?

How does he do that? He doesn't even really know what I'm talking about but he somehow knows exactly what to say. Like he gets it, somehow.

Days later:

So we were in the back of the van, me and Will. And Jonathan was driving while Argyle slept. Will was trying to cheer me up with some crazy plan to get rich in Vegas, but he saw right through me again and saw I was still upset. He said El would be okay, that we'll make it.

But that isn't my problem. What if after all of this is over, she doesn't need me anymore? That was what I said, but I really meant what if she doesn't want me around anymore? She already didn't want me around when I couldn't say what she wanted to hear, what happened after all this stuff with the Upside Down is over? There isn't going to be anything keeping her in my life. And it'll really be over. I don't offer her anything.

I said that meeting El was just simple dumb luck. She needed someone back then, but she won't be needing me forever and after that she won't want me around. At least Lois Lane has something else going for her other than Superman. I don't have anything.

It was stupid to bring up, there was so much else going on. We had bigger problems. It's just easy to talk to Will. Especially when he sees right through me like that.

"You're scared of losing her," he said.

Yeah, exactly.

He gave me a painting after that. It was... incredible. I hadn't seen his art in months and I knew he was painting now but... wow. It's breathtaking. He's gotten so much more talented these past months.

"Did you paint this?" I asked. What I meant was did you paint this for me? He said yes, but that El commissioned it.

I don't know how to explain how I felt about that.

But Will kept talking, he said that I was the heart of the party. That El was so different from other people but I made her feel like she wasn't a mistake at all. That she was better for being different. And that gave her the courage to fight on. So yeah, she'd always need me. She'd always want me around.

I do know how I feel about that. Things with El feel more simple in my mind, I don't love her romantically but... she loves me like that? Maybe then I can tell her how I feel and she'll still want me around! If she'll always need me like Will just said, then hopefully she'll want me around as a friend! Hopefully she'll love me that much.

Someone loves me like that. And I can't help but love it. I can't help but smile and be relieved.

Someone loves me like that.

Later that night:

We found El. She was safe. She made a plan to help our friends in Hawkins and we set it up in the back of a Surfer Boy pizza. We were alone for a little bit, sitting at one of the tables. I made her laugh to try and lighten the mood.

She said she missed me, and that made me smile. Maybe she really did feel the way that Will said. Maybe if she really did love me like that then she'd still want me around after I tell her that I do love her, as a friend. I told her I missed her too, and that I'd had time to think about our argument a few days before. I was about to tell her the thing I really wanted to say most when Argyle came up with a pizza and stopped the conversation.

Once again, I can't say what's been on my mind.

And then later, El was in the mind fight and she started choking. I was so scared she was going to die. I froze. I was holding her hand and watching her choke.

Will reached for my shoulder and he reminded me that I'm the heart.

I'm supposed to hold her together. I make her feel better for being different. It gives her the courage to fight on.

Yeah?

Yeah.

And so I tell her I'm here and that I love her. Because it's true. I don't know how she's gonna hear it. But I force the words past my lips because she needs to hear it in whatever way she takes it. Maybe right now it doesn't matter how I mean it, just that it's true.

I said I was sorry I didn't say it more. But what I really meant was that I was sorry I didn't say it at all. But Will and Jonathan were there, and they think that El and I have been trading I love yous for the past several months. I couldn't let them know that I never said it at all. Especially not Will. Not after he made that painting for me. That painting symbolized everything that Will said about El's love for me. Admitting that I never said I loved El at all would be like spitting in his face.

I hope El knows what I mean, though. She knows I never said it. And I told her that I was never scared of her but that I was scared that she wouldn't need me anymore. That if I said how I really felt, that I loved her as a friend, then losing her would hurt more. Because then it wouldn't be that I lost her because I didn't love her. But because my love wasn't good enough.

I told her I didn't know how to live without her. That I felt like my life started the day we found her in the woods. Which feels true. I don't really remember life before Will went missing and we found her. Everything started when Will went missing and we found El. Everything before the Upside Down is a blur to me. And El has been there since the beginning of all this craziness, she's kept us safe. I can't imagine my life without her in it. She's one of my best friends, how could I imagine it without her?

I told her I loved her from the beginning, in the rain. I don't know how true that was. But she was my hope. She was gonna help us find Will, how do you not love hope? But more importantly, I wanted her to know that I didn't ever think she was the monster. If to her, the difference between thinking that I see her as a monster or a loved one is saying Love Mike, then I'll say Love Mike.

I hope she knows what I mean, but right now I guess it doesn't matter how she takes it, as long as she lives.

So I tell her I love her on her good days, her bad days, with her powers, without her powers. I love her for exactly who she is. She's my superhero. I know she didn't like that term when I said it earlier. But it's true. She's one of my best friends, my superhero. It doesn't mean I love her less. Or that I don't see her for who she is, cause she is also so much more.

And I said I couldn't lose her, which is also true. I lost both her and Will too many times to count. I can't lose either of them again. But it's not Will on the table choking to death, it's El.

And so I need her to know that she can do anything. I believe it, if she started flying or moving mountains I wouldn't be shocked. And so I believe that she can win this too. That she can fight and she can win.

I hope she hears what I mean, and if she doesn't, I hope she hears what she wants to hear. So that she can have the courage to fight on.

Two days later:

El lost the battle. Max is in a coma. And Will told me that now that we were back in Hawkins, he could feel One. He's alive and he wants everything and everyone and he won't stop. And my heart just... plummets into my gut.

Not again, not Will. Not Will with that terrified look in his eyes. The Upside Down has always wanted Will for some reason, and with One still alive, he's back in the line of fire again.

"We have to kill him," Will said.

I put my hand on his shoulder, I just needed to ground myself, and him. I didn't want him to float away, or get kidnapped, or possessed in front of my eyes again.

"We will," I told him.

I don't know what's going to become of my relationship with El. What she heard me say two days ago. Or what she thinks of anything, she hasn't really talked to me since it happened. But right now Will needs me. And I've always stayed by his side and had his back when the Upside Down strikes. And this time will be no different.

We stood on the flower field where I picked El's flowers just a week before. The flowers were decaying right before my eyes. And the sky was ripped open in shades of red and black, matching the rips in the ground all over Hawkins.

The three of us approach the sight together, but as Will and I stop to stare, El moves past us to stand in front. Closer, and on her own.

The sight was horrifying. What would we face together to bring down One this time?

I didn't know what was going to come, but I had Will by my side and El in front of us. Our guardian, as always.

And somehow, despite all the terror around us, it felt right.

#tell me what you think!#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #eleven #thoughtsfromthequeen

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maniculum · 1 year

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The College of Grotesque Arts -- Week Four

After I finished writing the material for this week, I thought to myself, “I feel like I’m writing a lot. Just how long is this?” So I checked the word count and this is over 5,000 words. That’s a whole damn college paper. I assign a 5,000-word essay each semester and my students get panicked looks in their eyes because they’ve never written anything that long. And this isn’t even an outlier — Weeks One and Three were both longer. Am I going into too much detail on these rooms, or is this a normal amount of words?

Ahem. Anyway. Enough of me worrying.

Question: are those notes below the map itself actually any use? The ones that are a list of what appears in the actual entry? (I know that the original concept was probably that all the writing should fit in that space, but I also know myself, so I never actually expected to fit all of my excessive verbiage into that space.) Should I start leaving that part off? Anyone have thoughts? Also, I wrote those bits in pen this time so I could scan it. Do the scanned versions work better than the photographed versions? Practicality vs. aesthetic? Listeners, call in.

Content below the cut.

Room 1.22: f.23v

When the PCs open the door to this room, a rather damp and annoyed hawk flies out.

This room is entirely taken up by a 10ft-deep pool, inhabited by a number of bright red & pale green minnows. Some stairs lead down to the bottom of the pool.

Observant PCs will notice that one section of the pool wall does not have any algae growing on it. This section of the wall is an illusion — anything other than water or marine animals can pass through it as though it isn’t there. PCs walking (swimming) through it will find themselves completely dry on the other side as the water is filtered out when they pass through. They will also be rather thirsty: the filter isn’t supposed to affect bodily fluids, but the wizards never quite got it working right and it gives you a pronounced feeling of dry mouth. This same effect is active on the stairs, and likewise dries out anyone who walks up them.

(The hawk, if you were wondering, flew through from the other side and has been drying its wings on the stairs for a while now, unaware that this would have been done magically had it walked rather than flown. It’s confused and angry about ending up underwater unexpectedly.)

Room 1.23: f.24r

In a complete 180 from the last page, this one has so much crap on it that just begs to be included that I made the room huge in order to justify that. (It was randomly generated to be 20x30, but there was plenty of space just south of it to expand into.) This is another high-ceilinged room where the “floor” is actually just the top of a thick layer of soil. It contains seventeen pillars spaced through the room (shown on the map), but the pillars are entirely covered in thick, woody vines. The walls appear to have trelliswork built into them, and are likewise covered in vines. The ground cover is dominated by small, fragrant white flowers that detect as very slightly magical. A pond occupies the southwest, dominated by vines and reeds.

The most obvious feature of this room is a giant pit in the northeast corner. (Appendix A wanted there to be a pit trap in that east passage, but I’ve reinterpreted it.) This appears at first glance to be a garbage pit, but it seems that all the material in it is organic — in fact, it’s a crude composting operation that is the source for much of the soil all these plants down here are growing in. You might say it’s full of fertilizer, or you might say, “oh, that’s where all the animal waste is going.” It also has a bunch of those fragrant white flowers growing in it. And yes, the pit is blocking access to the east passage. Because I think it’d be funny if the PCs decided they had to go through it, that’s why. (If you want stats, it’s about a 20ft drop to the… contents, but you might want to assign damage as if it were only a 10ft drop, due to the padding. PCs will sink in it if they try to walk across it. The pit itself is roughly square, 20x20, and is 40ft deep in total — it’s about half full of stuff.)

Stationed near the pit (well, let’s say several feet away, not like, standing on the lip daring you to push it in) is Caretaker Two. (My attempts to minimize any humanoid/intelligent hybrid creatures running around and the obvious necessity to use that piece of art basically mean this has to be a Caretaker.) Caretaker Two is a long-limbed, long-torsoed, somewhat-humanoid construct about the size of a human child. It appears to be composed of green stone and wears a rather nice cloak and gown. The effect is spoiled (enhanced?) by its penchant for a quadrupedal gait — it can also climb on the walls and ceiling with no apparent effort. Caretaker Two collects organic waste from large sections of the dungeon to bring here, and is also tasked with repairing other Caretakers — it does the waste collection and/or compost distribution at night, but visits the locations of each other Caretaker in the dungeon at dawn after they’ve finished their “shift” and returned to their places. (After seeing that Pathfinder has make whole repair constructs, I figured there should probably be a Caretaker that uses that effect to fix other Caretakers.) Like Caretaker One, it is potentially dangerous, since it was designed to be able to deal with large and possibly hostile beaſts, but will cause no harm to the PCs unless provoked or obstructed in its duties. Stats:

Caretaker Two: CR 7, XP 3200; N Small Construct; Init +6; Senses Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft, Blindsight 30ft; Perception +3

DEFENSE: AC 23, touch 17, flat-footed 17 (+1 size, +6 Dex, +6 natural); hp 60 (9d10+10) Saves Fort +3, Ref +9, Will +6; DR 5/-

OFFENSE: Speed 50 ft., climb 50 ft.; Melee 2 slams +13 (2d6+3); Spell-Like Abilities (CL 9; Save DC 13 + spell level) At Will: Cure Minor Wounds, Floating Disk, Make Whole; 3/day: Charm Monster, Deep Slumber, Telekinesis; 1/day: Hold Monster, Interposing Hand

STATISTICS: Str 16, Dex 22, Con 0, Int 0, Wis 16, Cha 1; Base Atk +9; CMB +11; CMD 27; Special Qualities Construct Traits, Blindsight 30ft

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Spider Climb (Su): Caretaker Two can effortlessly climb sheer surfaces and ceilings as the spell spider climb, with the exception that it uses its normal climb speed to do so.

If provoked, Caretaker Two attempts to subdue with charm monster and deep slumber. If those don’t work, it will escalate to hold monster, then to protecting itself with interposing hand. If this has not neutralized the threat, Caretaker Two will attempt to subdue with nonlethal blows and/or additional attempts to use charm monster and deep slumber. If reduced below half hit points, it will escalate to lethal force, backed up by use of telekinesis. It may, at this point, attempt to push opponents into the garbage pit if they are in that area. Note that while Caretaker Two can use telekinesis 3/day, odds are good that it has already expended one use before the PCs arrive — it uses it to turn the compost.

The vines that cover the pillars and walls are inhabited by brightly colored red-and-blue songbirds.

The pond has a few black herons wading in it.

Wandering around this room are a handful of blostaethes. A blostaeth is a chicken-sized reptilian critter with fine scales and a few feathers (on its tail and at the back of its head) in red, blue, and green. They are equipped with: long, serpentine necks; short, feathery tails; a pair of three-toed legs; and no other appendages. A couple of them appear to be wearing small cloaks for some reason.

Yeah, we can’t just ignore that the artist gave those things clothing, can we? Raises some questions, so I better try and answer them. Okay, um, so blostaethes are actually very long-lived. Unlike most of the creatures in here, they’re not just descended from old experiments — the ones wearing cloaks are the originals. (The others are their young. They lay eggs rarely and mature very slowly.) Januaria’s heretofore-unmentioned apprentice, whom we’ll name Dervorguilla because that’s one of the more wizardy-sounding names on the list I’m using, took a liking to these particular beaſts and made them little cloaks because it’s cute. Caretaker Two was instructed to keep the little cloaks in good repair, untangle them when necessary, retrieve them if lost, and so forth. Absent instructions to the contrary, it’s still doing that. It’s also equipped with cure minor wounds to keep them in good health, which is how these creatures have survived for centuries without incident. That’s all a bit whimsical, but the artist forced my hand by giving these creatures accessories.

Anyway, the blostaeth is a friendly and docile creature. (The PC’s can’t take one; the Caretaker will stop them.) Its only unusual characteristic beyond its appearance and lifespan is a sort of breath weapon — once per day, it can breathe out a spray of seeds. These are the seeds of those fragrant white flowers all over the room. The flowers have two purposes: one, they mask the smell of the garbage pit; two, they magically enhance the properties of the compost, which is why the “just throw everything in a pit and hope for the best” approach is working so well. They shouldn’t be a threat, but here are some stats in case it’s needed:

Blostaeth: CR 1, XP 400; N Diminutive Magical Beast; Init +3; Senses Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft; Perception +5

DEFENSE: AC 18, touch 17, flat-footed 15 (+4 size, +3 Dex, +1 natural); hp 14 (2d10+3); Saves Fort +3, Ref +6, Will +0; Immunities Aging, Disease

OFFENSE: Speed 10 ft.; Melee bite +3 (1d2-3); Space 2-1/2 ft.; Reach 2-1/2 ft.; Special Attacks Breath Weapon

STATISTICS: Str 4, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 4, Wis 10, Cha 10; Base Atk +2; CMB -5; CMD 8; Feats Toughness; Skills Perception +5; Special Qualities Magical Beast Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Breath Weapon (Su): A Blostaeth can exhale a 10ft. conical spray of seeds as a breath weapon. This attack causes 1d4 damage and allows a DC 11 reflex save for half damage. A Blostaeth can use its breath weapon once every day.

If excessively threatened, they bite and may use their breath weapon. A PC hit by the breath weapon may, in 3d4 days, notice that small white flowers are sprouting from their skin; the seeds can get embedded and grow in flesh. Being parasitized by flowers is not exactly healthy (1 Con damage per week), but isn’t hugely threatening either — the flowers are not difficult to find and pull out. Pulling them out stings a bit but does no appreciable damage.

Searching the room may reveal a huge golden trumpet stashed behind the trellises on the west wall, half-buried in the dirt and hidden by vines unless you look carefully. Right now it’s full of dirt, plant matter, and possibly bird poop. You should clean it up if you want to use it. Blowing this trumpet (which is difficult and might require a second person to help hold it up for you, as it’s almost ten feet long) will signal any Caretakers on this level of the dungeon to assemble in front of the trumpet-blower. (It will also make an extremely loud and not particularly melodious noise.) Upon arriving in front of the trumpet-blower, they will wait patiently for ten minutes. The idea is that you can summon them to give instructions; however, since none of the PCs are authorized to give those instructions, they just wait silently and then go back to what they were doing. If used in combat with the Caretakers, it will make them stop what they’re doing, but if they’re subsequently attacked, they’ll go back to defending themselves as before. If used outside the dungeon, it has a chance of having the same effect on any mindless constructs in a one-mile radius. (GM’s choice whether to assign a percentage chance or give the constructs some kind of save.) It cannot be used inconspicuously.

If any PC searches the compost pit (because you know someone’s going to) they’ll find, in addition to animal waste and plant matter, remains of various creatures from elsewhere in the dungeon. The Caretakers aren’t hugely consistent about bringing corpses to the pit — as evidenced by the bones elsewhere in the dungeon — but they do so often enough that it keeps there from being bones just knee-deep all over the place. This includes the remains of a few previous explorers, since at this point it would be weird if it didn’t. Let’s say four of them: William (fighter), Alice (bard), Elizabeth (paladin), and John (necromancer). (Gotta use up the normal names on this list, you know?) So if the PCs really want to play “archaeologist in the midden”, they can find those remains and any possessions those adventurers had when they died. Well, I say “any” possessions — anything metal would have been scavenged by Caretaker One, and the compost pit would have decomposed anything organic. So, really, “any non-metal possessions that are either made of stone or magically preserved in some way.” Again, best to randomly generate said possessions, I think — if it’s relevant, each of these past explorers is the PCs’ level +/- 1d4.

Any PC who jumps in the compost pit should have to save against disease. I don’t know which disease — GM’s choice. It’s not as bad as it could be, because, you know, it’s mostly just compost, but there’s still waste and carcasses that haven’t properly decomposed here.

Room 1.24: f.24v

The walls, floor, and ceiling of this large, oddly-shaped room are patterned with rust-stained holes. Examination will reveal that there used to be a number of large cages built into this room — someone has cleared the remnants out. (It was Caretaker One.) There are also remnants of glass enclosures that have shattered for one reason or another — watch your feet. In the south part of the room are two surviving enclosures.

Around the edges of the room runs a mezzanine, with stairs up to it on the east wall. On the mezzanine is another counter with cabinets and a shelf like the ones in Room 1.17 and Room 1.20. Unlike those, this has clearly already been ransacked — the only things left are broken glass vessels. The rest of the mezzanine is cluttered with broken bits of furniture. Three mostly-intact stone tables remain on the western portion. The eight pillars holding up the mezzanine extend all the way to the ceiling.

Back down on the ground, the surviving enclosure by the west wall is a glass terrarium with one side broken. It contains a miniature habitat, complete with miniature live trees, for a herd of miniature deer. With the side broken, the deer have escaped and can be found wandering over the rest of the room. (Not on the mezzanine, though, as they’re too small to get up the stairs.)

The surviving enclosure by the east wall is also glass, but fully intact. (The top is open, but it seems like it’s supposed to be.) It contains layers of dirt and plant matter, and seems to be dotted with hundreds of very small plant sprouts. These sprouts are the tails of biltwicks, strange little bluish worms with a plant-based tail and an odd, reddish, beaked head. I was going to make them harmless, but honestly I have this nagging feeling that this is becoming more of a pleasant tour than a dungeon crawl, so they probably need to be able to mess you up. Hm. They’re venomous.

In most respects, as far as game statistics are concerned, a biltwick is just a very strange-looking earthworm. (To my knowledge, there are no stats for earthworms, because why would you need them, so likewise there aren’t stats here.) There are two exceptions. First, like a lot of the other plant-creatures in this dungeon, any effect that wouldn’t work on a plant only has a 50% chance of working on a biltwick. they’re Part Plant, as codified in Room 1.26. Second, as mentioned, they’re venomous. If a PC sticks their hand in the enclosure or otherwise starts messing with them, they’ll bite.

Biltwick Venom: Injury; Fort Save DC 15; Onset 10 minutes; Frequency 1/minute for 10 minutes; Effect 1d2 Str; Secondary effect unconsciousness; Cure 2 consecutive saves.

Anyone under the effect of biltwick venom will spend 20 minutes unconscious for every point of Str damage they took. This does not count as a night’s rest, but if someone with a low Con gets bitten, the rest of the party may as well drag them off to a space less full of tiny deer and make camp. On the plus side, the sufferer experiences pleasant dreams. (Yes, the original intent was to make a naturally-produced tranquilizer for the beaſts.)

Room 1.25: f.25r

There are bones in the corners of this otherwise unremarkable room.

Also, there’s a lion in here. It must be kept pretty well fed to keep it from eating all those tiny deer next door. There may be some small antlers scattered on the floor from deer that wander into its lair though. Watch out; darn things are like caltrops. (Treat them as a terrain hazard if combat starts.) Caretaker Two probably intervenes if it tries to enter Room 1.23. Well fed or not, you probably want to be careful not to make any sudden move.

Room 1.26: f.25v

The north side of this room is taken up by a small artificial pond.

Growing in the pond are donkey reeds. (I had to do something with this illustration and rather than having another worm-like creature that’s kind of a plant, I thought maybe we should have a plant that’s kind of a creature.) They poke a few feet out of the water and are topped with small donkey heads. As could likely be guessed by the pink stalks and blue leaves, they’re not very effective photosynthesizers — they need to be fed by the Caretakers. (They’re herbivores; create food & water just conjures up heaps of plant matter for them) Donkey reeds are not hugely mobile, but the stalks are flexible and the heads might bite.

The pond also contains some more geese.

In the southwest corner, someone has crudely carved “don’t” into a portion of the wall. (A warning left by a previous explorer, not part of the original construction.) Examination will reveal that this section of wall is actually a hidden door. The door will open if anyone in the room casts an arcane spell; on the other side is a storage closet.

In the storage closet are a series of shelves that have some sort of magical effect surrounding them. Investigation will reveal that this is a stasis effect like the one in Room 1.5, keeping the contents of the shelves frozen in time. Many of the shelves are empty, but four contain a series of small ceramic apothecary jars. These jars are labeled and sorted, but the labels are just numbers someone has painted on, with no context provided. Each shelf contains 2d12 jars; all the jars on each shelf have the same number. (Note: the numbers have no meaning other than “this is Substance Number X I’ve made”. I’m numbering them 2, 35, 48, and 96 because those are the numbers I got by rolling a d100 four times. If you want to renumber or give them other meanings, that’s fine and shouldn’t cause problems.)

The stasis system in this storage closet is not, like the one in Room 1.5, part of a more complex mechanism. All it does is keep the shelves in stasis, and it’s meant to be convenient, so it can be turned off pretty easily. Each shelf has a rune carved on it — the same rune on each one. If an arcane spellcaster of any kind touches the rune, the stasis effect will drop until the rune is touched again. Opening a jar will reveal that they are filled with strange, foul-smelling pastes, very much like one might expect from an apothecary jar. Direct skin-to-skin contact with the paste provokes a Fortitude save (DC 15) against that paste’s effects, which will be outlined below.

Each substance in the jars is meant to provoke physical changes upon a living creature. (If one of your characters is undead or a construct or something, they’re immune.) The extent of the change depends on how much of the paste you apply. In the entries below, “minor exposure” indicates something like poking it with the tip of your finger or otherwise cautiously interacting with it, “moderate exposure” indicates either smearing some on yourself or ingesting any amount, and “major exposure” indicates topically applying the entire jar. Minor exposure takes three days to run its course; moderate exposure takes six; major exposure takes ten. If the PC fights off the effect before it naturally runs its course, you should use those timespans to decide what permanent results they did get.

The effect acts pretty much like a magical disease, and causes Constitution damage because having magic mess with your biology like this is not a pleasant or healthy experience. (Save DC 15; Onset 1d4 days; Frequency 1/day; Effect variable Con damage; Cure 2 consecutive saves.) Any changes are permanent, even after the “disease” runs its course and the Con damage stops. It is possible to reverse them with magic (remove disease should probably do it, but feel free to make your own calls about how easy or difficult this should be to heal.) PCs may choose to voluntarily fail their saves if they think the changes are neat enough to be worth the Con damage.

The “disease” shouldn’t be contagious, but as previous rooms within this dungeon have indicated, one of these things has accidentally mutated into a transmissible form at least once before. Specifics below this image of someone who has apparently been affected by all of them and doesn’t look happy about it.

Substance #2

Minor exposure: Whatever part of you came into contact with the substance begins slowly converting to plant-like material. If the effect is allowed to run its course, that body part will start sprouting leaves. You can technically photosynthesize, but not enough to make a noticeable difference in your food consumption.

Moderate exposure: As above, but you grow a few small vines (earthworm-sized) from the spot rather than just leaves, and you can photosynthesize sufficiently to reduce your required food consumption by ¼ if you keep your new floral accessory exposed to daylight for at least 8 hours a day. (If you ingested the substance instead of applying it topically, the vines appear at random locations spread over your body.)

Major exposure: As above, but you grow a single large vine as big around as your arm and twice as long, with broad, spreading leaves. It’s prehensile and fully under your control. Your food requirements are reduced by ½ with sufficient exposure to daylight. You are Part Plant, which is something I’m going to go ahead and codify since I keep using it… and I’ll make it a little more in-depth than “you have plant immunities half the time”. Consider this retroactive:

Part Plant can be applied to any living creature, excluding outsiders and… well, plants. Anything that is Part Plant has a flat 50% chance of ignoring any paralysis, poison, or stun effects. They gain +5 to any save against mind-affecting effects and sleep effects on account of their brain working a little different now. Sneak attacks on something that is Part Plant have a 10% failure chance; the organs aren’t all where they’re supposed to be. They can photosynthesize so long as their leaves are exposed to sun during the daylight hours; this cuts their food requirement in half. Their sleep requirements are also halved. Any magical effects that target plants (e.g. control plants) have a 50% chance of working on them; any effect that does damage to plants does half damage to them. To any spell or effect that checks a creature’s type, they count as a plant in addition to their original creature type.

Substance #35

Minor exposure: You develop a small humanoid face on the part of your body that was exposed. It has limited internal components (sinuses, throat, &c. are not really present), and can’t move.

Moderate exposure: You develop a fully functional humanoid face on the part of your body that was exposed (or a random part if you ingested it). The face can be up to a foot across, depending on how much of the substance you applied and where you applied it. It has internal components and seems to be hooked into your own respiratory system. It can move, and you have limited control over it. In general, this is a less-inconvenient version of Bonus Face Syndrome (which is a mutated version of this effect), in that the face is less prone to babble nonsense and you can exercise control over it. (It does not come with the same deleterious mental effects.) Trying to control the face should be modeled by a Charisma check (DC 13).

Major exposure: You develop a complete second head at the location where the substance was applied. (It may or may not have a neck, depending on location and the vagaries of magical effects.) The second head has its own mind, will, and mental stats. It has adult intelligence as well as fragments of your memory and personality. It shares control of your body; if the two of you disagree on what actions to take, make opposed Charisma checks to decide who has control.

Substance #48

Minor exposure: You develop fine blue scales over 10% of your body, radiating out from the point at which you came into contact with the substance. Wherever scales develop, your hair falls out.

Moderate exposure: As above, but 50% of your body. If you ingested the substance, you get patches of scales at random locations. You receive a +1 natural armor bonus.

Major exposure: As above, but 100% of your body. You receive a +2 natural armor bonus.

Substance #96

Minor exposure: You develop a single white-rimmed, spiracle-like opening at the part of your body where you came into contact with the substance. You can breathe through it.

Moderate exposure: As above, but you develop several of these openings spread throughout your body, with associated small gill-like structures. You can use them to breathe underwater for a limited period; they aren’t sufficiently numerous or well-developed to provide enough oxygen to function without coming up for air. Functionally, you can now hold your breath underwater for a number of minutes equal to five times your Constitution score.

Major exposure: You have dozens of these spiracle-like openings all over your body and your respiratory system has been entirely reworked. You are functionally amphibious.

Room 1.27: f.26r

This room contains substantially more rotten wood than any of the others you’ve come across. It might be intentional, since that wood seems to be inhabited by large worms of some sort.

Hunting those worms are a pair of harcats. These creatures are about the size of a housecat, and have a mixture of feline and rodential features. They are bipedal, their only limbs being a pair of powerful rabbit-like legs. Harcats move in a hunched-over manner, interacting with the world either through their prehensile tails or by biting. Appendix A wants there to be a monster in this room, so I’ve decided harcats are aggressive. I’m not saying there’s no way your PCs can make one into a pet, just that it’ll be difficult.

Harcat: CR 2, XP 600; N Tiny Animal; Init +3; Senses Low-Light Vision, Scent; Perception +0

DEFENSE: AC 15, touch 15, flat-footed 12 (+2 size, +3 Dex); hp 14 (3d8+0); Saves Fort +3, Ref +6, Will +1

OFFENSE: Speed 25 ft.; Melee bite +4 (1d6-1 plus disease); Space 2-1/2 ft.; Reach 2-1/2 ft.; Special Attacks Leap, Disease

STATISTICS: Str 8, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 2, Wis 10, Cha 10; Base Atk +2; CMB -1; CMD 12; Feats Mobility, Weapon Focus (bite); Skills Acrobatics +9 Special Qualities Animal Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Leap (Ex): As a move action, a Harcat can jump up to ten feet in any direction, including straight up. This does not provoke an attack of opportunity.

Disease (Ex): A Harcat’s needle-like teeth are prone to communicating disease. Pick any disease you’d like to throw at your PCs; if you don’t want to choose, filth fever is a sensible fallback.

Room 1.28: f.26v

Appendix A wanted me to put something fairly goofy here, and I expected to veto it, but this page doesn’t have a lot for me to work with, so we’re rolling with it.

The entrance to this room is a large set of iron double doors with ring-shaped door-knockers. (Don’t roll on the Doors Table for this one; it’s intact.) When the PCs open the doors, flip a coin or otherwise roll a 50% chance.

On heads (or the first half of your 50% roll), the other side of the doors is an empty 20x30 room. If the PCs close the doors behind them, there is a rumbling noise and a sensation of movement — this room is actually a sort of freight elevator, and it’s taking them down to Level Two. (What’s on the other side of the door on that level? Tell you in a month or so.) The elevator takes half an hour to automatically reset; until that point, it can’t be made to move again. After half an hour has passed, opening and closing the doors will make it bring them back to Level One.

On tails (or the other option in whatever mechanism you’re using), the doors open onto a sheer drop into a large space with rough-hewn walls. The top of the elevator is 50 feet below them. The elevator doesn’t take up the whole space — there’s a good ten feet on each side, excluding the side with the door — and a number of birds are nesting on ledges around the edges of the space. This elevator shaft also seems to extend some 20 feet upwards, where a large pulley of some kind hangs from the ceiling, with cables reaching down to the elevator.

If the elevator isn’t present (i.e., if you got tails on that coin), it can be summoned by using the knockers on the doors.

And there’s Week Four done. Hey, if you’re reading this, like… let me know?

#college of grotesque arts #dungeon23 #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #pathfinder #illuminated manuscript #manuscript #marginalia #medieval #medieval creatures #medieval art

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ariareverie · 4 days

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about that reblog, here are some ukraine aus (they’re just original stories at this point)

yeah i wrote falling for you on an alt but it got like 14 views on wattpad so i don’t think it really matters

idol au is just those posts i used to make on main with south korea and ukraine posing. there was a whole lot of lore to it too i could make a whole essay info dumping. like i said, they’re all OCs now. so it’s not really ch anymore. also kazakhstan dies

kosr, or “knock off she-ra”, is exactly what it says in the title. no one was supposed to be anyone, but america was, i guess, adora. the main character. she makes friends with belarus, kazakhstan, japan, poland i think, mexico, ukraine, and mongolia. but past me only cared about ukraine obviously, that’s why it’s in ukraine aus. also kazakhstan dies.

((oh my gosh, talking about these makes me realize a lot of stuff went down and there’s a whole bunch of story, heeeelp))

omari au is just ukraine angst and everyone hates her, except for kazakhstan who is just worried about her, but she doesn’t care she’s too busy being a shut in and making up an imaginary world where everyone gets along.

oooo promise au has got to the the story that makes the least sense. i am just going to say that upa had tons of dedication despite literally being a 5 year old but whatever. at least we got villian south korea and kazakhstan dying in all these aus someone help him (also ukraine is supposed to be an empty vessel throughout the story. she literally does nothing and we know nothing about her. but that’s the point) also i think i posted a drawing about this au to my main? idk i forgot

anyway to be mine au!! it’s just a high school au where shenanigans happens, also kazakhstan dies.

#ariareverie’s kx aus #WHY DOES KAZ KEEP DYING I JUST NOTICED THIS….#NO REBLOGGING THIS #i’m looking at you milo /lh

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thesolferino · 3 years

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senior high school bf!dream headcanons

⤷ note: literally woke up this morning and couldn’t get it out of my head so i wrote this whole thing at like 8 am while having coffee instead of writing my actual requests. hope you enjoy!

mister “quarterback on the school’s football team-wide shoulders-super tall-pretty smile-letterman jacket” dream

your high school jock bf dream (no pun intended)

your high school was never that cliquey in the first place, but clay was definitely popular and well known by the whole school

he mostly hung out with nick (who everybody grew to call sapnap) and george who were, as opposed to him, kind of shit at sports, but geniuses in literally everything else

he never dated one of the cheerleaders despite them obviously hitting on him (who could blame them?) - he simply wasn’t interested. ppl couldn’t believe it, especially him being a senior and never having dated anyone from the school

the person he DID, however, end up dating, was you - a girl he had to tutor in english ‘cause you were so bad at it that you were absolutely going to fail

he wasn’t all that excited about it, assuming you wouldn’t want to cooperate, until he saw how pretty you were when you approached him to figure out when you guys were gonna meet up

and once he figured out you were actually quite good at english, just didn’t have the attention span for writing long essays, he liked you even more

during your shared chemistry class, for a moment he turned around to look at you, and you smiled at him from your place at the other end of the classroom

sapnap and george caught that. they did not let it go for approximately the rest of eternity

they actually let it go after a few weeks when they saw the two of you leaving the school together, hands interlocked

my GOD he would be a sucker for you wearing his clothes - ESPECIALLY HIS LETTERMAN

he’d take it off in school just to give it to you so you can walk around in his jacket and show off that you’re his

lots of stares since, like, that’s CLAY’s jacket!!!

he also gets jealous/protective so easily

one of the dudes in your class tells you you’re pretty? arm around your waist immediately

someone who’s into clay DARES to make fun of you? he’ll embarrass them in front of the whole class. no mercy!

he thinks you’re like the coolest person alive. he’ll just sit and listen to you ramble about things you love forever

you’d come to football practice with him when you had time (and even when you didn’t, because he’d beg you to come watch him) and cheered him on every time he seemed vaguely happy with his results since you had 0 knowledge of the game

be prepared for a lot of smelly and sweaty hugs

nothing he loves more than picking you up and spinning you around after they win a game

and hugging you very very very very very tight

“baby, let me go, you smell!” “what? i can’t hear you.” “i said you smell! let me go!” “wait, i need to bring you closer, i can’t hear what you’re saying.” “NO!!!!!”

also late night talks about your future and what he wants to do when he’s finally out

not sure if he wants to use his intellectual skills and learn coding or put his love for writing to use or keep doing football

you teasing him saying he’s like troy from high school musical

him wheezing loudly and claiming you’re gabriella

cue half an hour of discussing high school musical

going back to that “clay after they win a game” point,,,,,

nsfw under the cut! if you are a minor or uncomfortable with such topics, please stop reading here!

⤷ note: the characters in this story are high school seniors, which means they are 18-19 years old!

he’d have SO much adrenaline and energy that just needs to go somewhere

istg the stamina that man has is crazy

if the guys stick around in the locker room he’ll just usher you to one of the bathrooms and fuck you there

he does not give a single fuck if a teacher walks in; it’s their damn problem!

and if everyone gets changed quickly and leaves for an afterparty you bet you’re getting railed on one of those benches

“come on, baby, get on your hands and knees for me.”

he’s definitely one for overstimulating so he’ll just fuck you through your orgasm, fingers still on your clit and everything to the point you have to push them away

feel like he would be really good at aftercare so after he fills you up he’ll pick you up and sit you down on the bench, get some tissues and whatnot

“you okay?” “does it hurt?” “d’you want me to carry you?” “i didn’t hurt you too much, did i?”

and when they lose the game

whoooOooooo boy

you’re getting railed into next fucking week with all the force he has in his body

he’s going full degradation mode + spanking bc fucking you is just not getting that energy out by itself

“look at how you clench around me, whore. my little whore, aren’t you?

“i told you not to hold back. keep doing that and i’ll fuck you in the damn cafeteria so you’ll be sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

his ego is just wayyyyy too big to not have you screaming every time

tease him and he will have you spread out, begging and pleading. literally no question about it

“aw, you thought that was funny, didn’t you? not so funny now, is it, princess?”

he’ll edge you for literal hours until you apologise. don’t underestimate him! he has his goals set and will do whatever it takes to get to them

that’s what makes him so successful, i suppose

i just feel like he would be a vvv sweet boyfriend 🥺

(would defo convince you to go to a college that’s close to his but that’s a story for a different time)

football player dream supremacy, me thinks!

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagines #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fluff #dream angst #dream smut #dream fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #dreamwastaken smut

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cooloddball · 3 years

Text

Someone submitted something in my inbox and they wanted to remain anonymous. Since this is an extremely long essay, I will put it under the cut. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

xxx submitted: hey, i was the one who ask what do you think of Misha and Jensen's current relationship First off all thank you for your answear it means much to me cause im easy to be convice and this person who keep telling me that they are no longer friends can be so convicing, so I'm actully trying to forget what she said 😅 so I'm just writing a few. she said that since they no longer work together, they will forget about each other, and do their common things like the gay jokes, face touches ect. With other people, and neglect each other, don't talk to each other, and then meet new people who will replace the other. And and she talked about the gish thing, she said she sure they didn't talk since the end of the series, because Jensen didn't know where Misha was and Misha didn't know about the Radio Company vol 2 (but i saw people say that, they were just pretending, because Misha liked something about Radio Company Vol 2, before the gish live, so in theory he already knew then or something like that) and She said Misha wrote a poem about Darius not Jensen and now I will write down what she sent me : I saw a post about Jensen's current activities on social media, and I've come to the conclusion the only person he doesn't interact with is mish. Sadly this makes my break up theory even stronger. I feel like this is a goodbye to one of the biggest parts of my life. They've moved on from "uk what I haven't told you today? That i love u"+ from "miss my only jensen" from "i love u misha i mean it from the bottom of my heart" from "jensen has no flaws" from "misha is the funniest thing ever happened to me" from all that love and affection from everything they developed together and now they're apart leaving their lives like nothing happened and call me a dramatic but they both have the same energy now as someone has after a big break up. and Jensen comments on almost every of his friend’s post except Misha’s"+ Jenmish is genuinely the best thing that has ever happened in my entire life. I owe them literally everything. They're the reason i hold on. Unfortunately on this essay i have to start using past tense verbs for them, and i have to continue on that. I don't know for how long y'all been in spn fandom. But even if u joined one year before the show ended you'd know how close and intimate jensen and misha were. Everything about them was unmatched.+ The chemistry and how they just fit eachother. They had always been all over eachother. Like they were holding on eachother for dear life. They completed eachother and were like world's most powerful thing. They were the definition of soulmatism. No matter where, they ALWAYS kept interacting with eachother. Each possible tweet or insta post. On cons that the other wasn't there, the other one would bring up the othere's name for no absolute reason. +The looks and repeated love confessions. How invested they were both into eachother. The family they had built together cuz we know how close dee and mish are (look all the charity work they've been doing together recently). There are youtube videos to proof everything I've said so far.When i say break up, my real intention is that they've grown apart. Everything started in the the third or forth month of pandemic. Before than jensen used to interact +(comment mostly) on almost all of misha's posts. But after a while everything just stopped. At first personally didn't care that much. Bcuz I believed too much in them that I thought not even the gods above could separate them. I told myself maybe they spend long hours chatting or video calling and that's why online public interactions are gone. But as it passed it almost diminished to zero. Except some likes from jackles and eventual ones from misha there weren't anything else.+ We got absolutely no content and the show went off too. We were helpless and were sticking to everything we had Dee had a big social media shot down, so as jensen. Misha was busy with the election. We got some interviews for it with all of them. But we didn't get much.except remember both of them pulling a bff

move. and texted eachother during an online con where everyone else were dead-serious about politics? That flickered something in me. That showed me that+ they can't ever possibly let eachother go. And the times everyone else were talking and these too would just talk random things together (the one jackels had a white hat on with stacy abraham).And then Misha posted that for jensen's bday We really overlooked it. That shit was too intimate. To close. Fav march baby? U just don't go around and called ur bestie baby and when u mean it deeply. Especially not when ur friend is jensen ackles the "I suffered form internalized homophobia my whole life+ but fuck my wife's an angel and i have an angel bf too and another angel which is his wife but I'd rather die than come out cuz my asshole dad pulled a John winchester on me". It doesn't work like that. But uk how mish is. Carefree and open. I believe they got into a fight bcuz of this. He didn't even like the post. AND that was when the tiny bit of interactions we had was gone too. For a while jensen didn't even liked his posts. After a month it started again.What made me finally believe in that they had grown too+ far: I still remember the night misha posted that he and jensen were going to have a con for gish together. I remember how hard I cried. Lile the whole world was given to me. But deep down in my heart I knew that something would definitely happen. It didn't sit right with me and unfortunately my senses never lie to me. Jensen showed up at the wrong time bcuz of misunderstanding the time zones (this was HILARIOUS). That's not even my point.+ I've seen that interview 3 times so far. It always reminds me of when i saw my ex at a party and we were both so thrilled to see eachother and we still loved the other dearly, but we just couldn't work it out. Jensen and Misha's expressions were EXACTLY the same. The genuine smiles and longs pauses were they just stared at eachother. I'm so happy that it was online cuz if they actually gave that looks to eachother standing right next to the other one I would've collapsed. Misha didn't know that jensen's album+ was out. And he got so embarrassed when he found it out. He didn't know that jensen was on set and hadn't been home for 8weeks. Jensen had no idea where misha was. And this means that they hadn't talked in a long long time.When you're that close with someone for more than a decade, i mean THAT close, even if u're separated from eachother you'd at least check on the once a week, or at least once in two weeks. But it was vividly clear that they hadn't. I hate how this world works. They would always be in my heart.+ I would be thankful from them for everything. It hurts, and it won't stop and im so sure I'd be carrying this pain for a long time. They mean too much to a lot of us. Sometimes I think to myself that god i love them so much. Remember in 2019 when we used to get SO many jenmishdee interactions? That was LIT. It was THEE year for us. I hope they're doing good. I really do. I hope we don't get more proofs and I won't have to update this thread. Cuz my heart won't be taking it very+ well.Something i gotta add U may say that Jensen's busy and that's why he doesn't comment. But he comments on a lot of jared and his new costar's posts. So that's no excuse. So yeah that's it. I don't know what am I supposed to think. english isn't my native language, so sorry for the mistakes

Here is my response:

I don't know who this person who has been talking to is but I have to say they seem to be project their previous relationship experience on cockles.

I believe Jensen and Misha are okay and are together. Social media likes and comments don't mean anything. I mean it's not like Jensen or Misha used to comment on each other's posts before. Jensen didn't even wish Dee Happy Mother's Day this year, does that mean they are not together anymore? Nope. He has other best friends he has known for over 20 years like Jason Manns, Steve Carlson etc that he doesn't wish happy birthday, does that mean they are not friends anymore.

Please let's not put value on social media likes. I don't even follow my own family on sm and I don't always like or comment on my bf's or bff's posts on sm. So it doesn't mean anything.

As for the Gish Panel, I have talked about it before, the time Jensen was slotted to attend the panel, he was meant to answer fan questions. I honestly believe they decided to not do it at that time because they knew the questions would be about Destiel and not their new projects. If you watched that panel, Misha knew that Jensen's album was out as I pointed out. He was just trying to promote the album and soldier boy. He knew Jensen had also buffed out. It was all to promote Jensen. Anything else you hear is trolls and antis just being loud. Also don't forget Jensen called him "babe".

If Jensen and Misha weren't okay, he wouldn't have attended or participated all those panels Misha organized especially for Gish. Danneel also posts a lot about RA and likes Misha's posts. I am 100% Misha visited the Ackles when he went to Colorado last month.

Stop listening to trolls and/or antis or just people who are projecting and look at facts.

#submissions #cockles

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uzuitengensfourthwife · 3 years

Text

Fallen hard (Sanemi x femReader)

Warnings: none its pure fluff, and well my bad writing and grammar lol

Word count: 2410

Authors note: Okay I got to be honest with you guys. I wrote this back in September or October and posted it on Wattpad, I think (Yes I used to be on wattpad cries) But I really like REALLY wanted to share this on tumblr because its cute and sanemi deserves fluff. I really hope you enjoy it. Im already working on part 2 :)

Sanemi’s POV

,You're going this time right?'' Genya looked up at his brother, eyes full of hope that his brother would go to today's parents' evening. Especially now, that he had a new homeroom teacher. His brother, however, really couldn't care less, he maybe went once a year and that's usually the first and last time a teacher would see or talk to him. Still, he had to go today, Genya wanted him to go.

Yet his Brother's answer was bold and harsh. , And why would I?" Yeah, why would he? Genya started to think of a good reason why it was so important for him to attend today, but all he really could think of was his new teacher and that would certainly not be enough of a good reason for his brother to go. Well, he could at least try and give him this as a good reason to go, but in all honesty, he didn't want to get yelled at.

Sanemi however seemed to notice his brother's nervous behavior. , Just spit it out already.'' he demanded in a sharp tone, staring down at Genya. , W-well... we have a new teacher since last month... and don't you think you should show up? J-just to be polite...'' Genya stuttered, trying to avoid his brother's piercing gaze.

Sanemi just scoffed, trying to get away from this pathetic behavior of his brother. He would not join this damn parent's evening, not even if there was a new homeroom teacher. He already went once a year, wasn't this enough? Of course, the school disagreed with this, but goddamn it this was just a waste of time and that's exactly why he only went once a year. No more.

, Aniki, please... I'll do the dishes for the rest of the month!'' Genya tried again, he had to make his brother go and this was the last thing he could think of that might, just might work as bait on his brother.

Surprisingly, it worked. Sanemi then turned around, looking at his brother as he made another offer. , Two months, and I'll go." This was too good to be true. Genya smiled at his brother as he nodded, agreeing to his brother's offer. , Okay, sounds fair." - , Good. When do I have to be there?'' Sanemi asked. , 8 pm.''

Well and this, this was the reason why Sanemi was now waiting in front of the Classroom. Waiting for his brother's teacher to come out and finally talk to him.

Sanemi sighed in annoyance as he thought about how convincing his little brother was. He should've charged him way more than just two goddamn months, he should've charged him at least a whole damn year. If not even more. Even so, he could not return time and now had to deal with this new teacher of Genya. And if he was honest, he did simply not care about this new teacher. He was already thinking of how great he'd feel when he could finally leave when the door of the classroom suddenly opened and a woman, most definitely younger than him, stood there smiling at him.

, Mr. Shinazugawa, please come in." her voice was soft like a feather, kind of soothing as she said his name, kindly inviting him to enter the classroom. He was shocked, he did not expect his brother to have such a teacher, all day he imagined her to be an old hag, but instead of an old hag, a wonderful young woman was standing in front of him.

, I'm Y/N L/N, nice to meet you." She held out her hand as she introduced herself and waited for him to take her hand for a handshake. And so he did. , Sanemi Shinazugawa, pleased to meet you as well." he coughed out, slowly shaking her hand. God, why was he so nervous all of the sudden? It was just his little brother's stupid teacher.

Yeah, what the actual fuck was he even nervous for?

, I'm glad you had the time to come, Genya was afraid that you might not be able to attend." - , Well.." Sanemi started as he looked in her (e/c) orbs, I guess I was able to take some time.''

Her smile only grew bigger, showing him to take a seat in front of the teacher's desk. , And for that, I am very grateful. There's a lot of stuff I want to talk about.'' She sat down in front of him, going through a pile of paper, probably looking for Genya's folder. , So... what did the idiot do?" Sanemi sighed out, already preparing himself to hear what Genya did wrong and what HE had to pay for. But instead of hearing any complaints, Y/N only chuckled, leaving Sanemi dumbfounded as he watched her with confusion. , Oh he didn't do anything bad. No, indeed he's a very good student! Everyone adores him!" But that, Sanemi didn't hear.

As she started to brabble how great of a student his brother was, all he could do was watch her. Examining her soft features. He was fascinated, nearly hypnotized by her beauty. For once, he was thankful that his brother was so convincing. Sanemi might be harsh, however, he was able to acknowledge a beautiful woman when he sees one. And this woman right in front of him, was out of his league, maybe even out of this world. If he had to describe her beauty, he wouldn't be able to find the perfect word. She was just too pretty, too beautiful, too stunning. Probably even an angel, sent from above. And her soothing voice just fit her beauty so well. God, she was perfect, and for the first time in a while, Sanemi had forgotten how to think properly.

,,-and that's why Genya has already gotten so many good reviews from teachers from all subjects. So- Mr. Shinazugawa?" He suddenly heard her calling for him, snapping out of his thoughts.

Oh god, he was so deep in his thoughts that he even had forgotten to listen. He knew the moment he saw her that he has fallen for her, but ....he didn't know he has fallen that hard., Ah... I'm sorry..." he whispered in an apologetic tone, rubbing the back of his neck. The teacher in front of him however just chuckled again waving her hand, as if she was telling him that there was no reason to apologize. , No worries! But well as I was saying, Genya is a really good student and has gotten many good reviews from all kinds of teachers. Not only that... but his grades are pretty good as well. Almost only A's!" She then handed him a pile of all the grades his little brother has gotten so far, he didn't care, but for the sake of her, he took a good look at all the reviews and grades she has handed him.

He hummed in response, once he looked through all of the stuff, giving her back the paper as he answered. , I have to admit, he isn't that bad." She shook her head and scoffed, taking the papers he was holding. , Please, not that bad? God, he is pretty amazing if you ask me!!" The young woman then leaned in closer, frowning as she looked Sanemi in the eyes. , You should be more proud of him. After all, he told me you are his role model. He looks up to you and thinks you are an amazing big brother." Sanemis eyes widened at the statement, as Y/N slowly leaned back, obviously waiting for him to say something.

He then let out a low laugh, once again not sure what he was supposed to say. , That's... surprising.." The young teacher then slowly shook her head. , Well..." she shortly after said looking back up. , Just remember that he adores you a lot... oh and with that being said... You should read through this. This is just one of Genya's amazing essays he has written." the smile was back on her face, easing the tension between the two adults.

She handed him over an essay his little brother wrote, he knew he was supposed to read through it, but oh god he was just so distracted by her. So he just had to pretend he was reading, while in reality he still tried to get over the beauty of this woman in front of him. He wasn't usually the type to show affection towards anyone, nor fall for someone this easily. But she, for some odd reason, got him all riled up.

, So...?" the younger woman nagged, curious about what Sanemi was going to say. , I'm surprised that my brother is actually this good." She nodded, agreeing with him. , He indeed is very good."

Sanemi had to confess, he hated the way she was praising his brother, for basically everything he did. Of course, she was his teacher and was actually supposed to say these things and yet he felt like she shouldn't praise his brother, but him. Yes, she should praise him, however, she probably knew too little to even be able to praise him. Damn, they have only ever met. So where did this sudden jealousy come from? And why only after they have met? It would've made so much more sense if it happened months after they've met, but now? After literally 10 minutes. Stupid, he thought, that was just stupid.

No, he was stupid.

, Is that all?" Sanemi looked at the small figure in front of him, still, inside he was hoping she wouldn't let him go so easily, that she would keep him here a little longer.

, Hmm... let me think.." she went through her bag, that she had now on her lap, looking for things she still had to mention before she would let him go. , Ah yes.. here." she handed him a few brochures of Universities, smiling at him. , You should start talking with him about applying to a few Universities. Probably these in particular. They'd fit him really well.''

Sanemi grasped the brochures and went through them, just then he noticed those were high qualified Universities. Even the one he went to himself, was listed as well, which made him feel some kind of pride.

, I hope you have realized that those Universities are popular amongst qualified students." - , I know," he answered as he pointed at his former University. , After all, mine is listed as well." Her eyes widened in surprise as she took a glance at where his finger was pointing at. , Tohoku University?" She was amazed, he could see that right away. The way she just looked at the brochure and her tiny hand that was placed right in front of her mouth.

, Yes indeed, but I don't see why my little brother-" she shushed him without hesitation, suddenly standing up and looking him in the eye. , Mr. Shinazugawa, your brother is a smart and a very skilled person! You should encourage him to go to Tohaku University as well!" this time she wasn't saying it to just sound nice, no it was the other way around. She said it because she actually meant it. She was dead serious about this. , Why... just why do you think he is that great?"

She slowly sat down again, a small smile forming on her lips. , Because he's just as great as his bigger brother." Sanemi was shocked, no not shocked but rather.. surprised, yet, she didn't hesitate to add more to this statement of hers. , Now that I've met you, I can totally see the resemblance. He's just like you and I totally see why he has chosen you as his role model."

He was once again astonished. , Has- has he said that?'' She nods, as she watched him. , Yes he did. He has mentioned you a few times. Fact is, he looks up to you, so I've guessed you must be an amazing brother.''

Part of him was embarrassed and wanted to disappear right away, the other part however was full of pride, thanking his brother for talking so highly about him in front of his teacher. The teacher that left him speechless.

So, sanemi smiled a little, looking away und scratching his neck as he did so. , Guess my brother wants to be a Mathematics major as well, huh.'' She hummed in response as she put away his little brother's folder. , Well... I guess we have talked about everything. Is there anything you want to add, or mention?'' Sanemi started to search for something, but obviously, there was nothing he could think about. She had probably mentioned everything she wanted to talk about and he, well he didn't want to attend the parent's evening, to begin with. So, he sighed and shook his head.

There was nothing, and with that disappointment came. He didn't want to go yet, but he couldn't just possibly stay here and talk to her any longer, let alone ask her out. That would probably seem to be very rude. But little did he know, that she just felt the same.

The sudden silence that lingered between him and her, made both of them nervous and uncomfortable.

, Then... I guess there is no reason for me to hold you back any longer.'' she was the first one to break the silence, and oh god he most definitely didn't want to hear these words. And yet, he played it off cool, getting up and marching towards the door. But before he could even reach the door, she suddenly spoke again, stuttering at the beginning. , M-Mr. Shinazugawa?''

Sanemi turned around, glancing at her. He then realized that she seemed... somewhat nervous. But why?

, I know... this is probably inappropriate to ask... but... would you mind joining me for coffee once..?'' Without even thinking, he answered, I would love to.'' and with that, he smiled at her as he exited the room and leaving the young woman perplexed.

Strolling through the building, he realized that there was a stupid little smile plastered across his face. Oh these feelings, so exotic and wild. He was not used to them, but somewhat liked the thrilling feeling.

Falling for someone wasn't even that bad.

#kny #kny x reader #kny sanemi #shinaguzawa sanemi #demon slayer #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x reader #giyuu #fluff #kny fluff

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sword-dad-fukuzawa · 3 years

Text

inarticulate thoughts on archon quest pt iii

Major spoilers for archon quest pt iii ahead.

Okay. Okay. Holy shit. I'm still reeling. I really don't know how Genshin's writing and lore just continues to get better. I was honestly thinking that at some point, the writing quality would drop off--and I didn't think the writing was all that stellar to start with. But the writing for Inazuma is absolutely fucking immaculate.

Just to get this out of the way, I have a singular issue with Genshin's writing that is unavoidable: that it can get kind of trite sometimes. But I don't begrudge the game its cliches about friendship and loyalty and hope in the face of insurmountable odds because, even if the writing can get almost childish, it's spectacular for the vast majority of the game. And I don't mind that the game is inherently hopeful. The world is awful enough without needing to play games about just how awful other worlds are.

This is going to be disorganized. So I'm going to start with what made me go oh, clever, and that's the Raiden boss fight at the end.

Demanding a Rematch with Ei

I had an essay about how well Inazuma does game design and a section was on the boss fight in pt ii specifically, but I never got around to posting it. Here's what I wrote:

I want to talk specifically about the Baal boss fight in Archon Quest Part II Electric Boogaloo. If you haven't played it yet, it's a two-part boss fight. Until you've smacked Baal down to 75% HP, it's basically a normal domain battle--a 1v1 match between your team and Baal. But then at 75% HP, Baal decides you know what, no, you don't get to use your Vision, and every member of your team who isn't Traveler gets their E and Q locked for 1 minute.

Your job for that 1 minute?

Survive.

And Baal does not make it easy for you.

But if you make it for that 1 minute, does that mean you get your E and Q back? No, a cutscene plays instead where Baal uses the divine judgement smite and smacks Traveler in the face with it. Yes, you survive. Yes, you and Thoma get to run away to see another day. But there is no way for you to win that boss fight.

The Baal boss fight is the first time Mihoyo has used a "you can't win this fight" mechanic where you will lose and it does not matter what you do.

And it fits pretty damn well with the narrative and thematic components of Inazuma as a whole. You aren't a fairy tale hero who defeats all the bad guys. Hell, you aren't even a leader mounting a glorious resistance. You are not that guy, at least not for patch 2.0. You're just a scrappy traveler from out of town, out of their depth and needing to rely on people they can barely trust in order to survive.

This country is fucking hostile, and the Baal boss fight is one of the best ways that Genshin hammers that into players.

I stand by this. What makes the Baal boss fight even better in pt iii is that it mirrors that first and utterly disempowering fight. You cannot win that fight by yourself, and that remains consistent. She's simply too good at her job. What wins you the fight in part ii, however, is the fact that you are not by yourself.

And I'm not talking about Yae. You're backed by the hopes and dreams and ambitions of the people of Inazuma, crying out to their ruler in the hopes that she will hear them. It fits Inazuma's general theme--you're not the hero, Traveler. You're the messenger. Hell, you're the vessel. And I thought that was particularly powerful.

It's just good writing, that you still do not win that fight on your own.

The Kazuha Scene

I don't know how to convey the amount of sheer shock I had during The Kazuha Scene. Genshin does not pull its punches and this scene is no exception. Kazuha dual-wielding Visions to Electro swirl and clash blades with the Raiden Fucking Shogun was the single most badass thing I've ever seen in this game.

It's also left vague if Kazuha himself, bearing his friend's ambition, was the one who reactivated it--or if, reaching beyond the veil, it was his friend himself. But in that moment, Kazuha reawakened a dead Kami no Me and that, that says a lot. Visions are tied intrinsically to the person they belong to, and despite being from the gods, they're also somehow the most inherently human thing. Kazuha, carrying his friend's will, woke one back up. I can't articulate this in essay form--might have to save it for a fic--but this has me in my feelings in a way I simply am unable to describe.

As an addendum because this doesn't quite go anywhere else, I really do enjoy the way Sara was written and the way you can see the bodies of the guards she leaves in her wake--not dead, but clearly flattened. Very badass.

Yae Dropping Bombshells

Yae. Yae Miko. Yae Miko really went "Oh, Scaramouche is a protoype puppet built by Ei ages ago. The Fatui fiddled with him a bit, though," with a completely straight face.

Yae Miko please.

Listen, I don't think anyone expected that to be Scaramouche's backstory at all.

And Yae's explanation of the story of Ei and Makoto makes Baal's 2D cutscene make vastly more sense. I was like ?? Why is she holding herself?? Is this a metaphor?? The answer is yes, it's a metaphor, it's also just Ei holding her sister, and it's a dramatic parallel to Traveler, who also lost their sibling somewhat during the cataclysm.

Will forever also be in my feelings about Makoto being the gentler of the two, thanks.

MMMM SUMERU LOREEEE ABOUT THE ARCHON TOO AHHHH AND KNOWLEDGE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SUMERU WHEN??

Speaking of "[insert teased thing here] when?"...

Signora

Alright, Signora's death, in and of itself, didn't make me feel all that bad.

That's a lie, sorry. It did make me feel pretty bad. Just the card Signora...is slain got me. Because Signora is the first casualty, and Signora's death is an escalation, and Signora...god, Signora is dead and Traveler killed her. Sure, it was Baal who made the finishing blow, but the moral consequences of that action lie on the Traveler's shoulders.

What does this mean for the future? Either Childe will kill us or send us a thank you card, I suppose. And it also means that Genshin's storyline may take a turn for the darker. Traveler killed someone. Traveler challenged Signora for a duel before the throne knowing damn well what that meant. The part afterward, as you walk out of the throne room, tells you everything you need to know about how Genshin is going to treat death.

It's fucking horrifying.

Traveler is getting unexplained headaches. They don't speak. The word is fuzzy, glitching out in reds and blues. They walk slowly, like they're in shock, like they can't walk any faster. Paimon begs you to say something because Traveler, you've gone quiet.

And sure, chalk this up to the fact that Baal was piggybacking off of Traveler to try and smite them as they left, but you don't know that as you walk down the stairs. You can only walk, and press space bar when Traveler feels woozy, and there's this feeling of confusion and panic you have to reckon with because Genshin's not a horror game, is it? But damn if it doesn't feel like one for a brief, terrifying stretch of time.

You killed a woman. And Genshin treats that action with the weight it deserves.

At least we all know the answer to "Signora playable when?" now.

#genshin spoilers #genshin impact #baal #raiden shogun #ei #yae miko #traveler #kazuha #la signora #sara kujou

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 years

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I got plagiarized! Woo!

Okay, I’m on a family trip at a place without wifi and haven’t been able to get this up, but basically here’s the low down. I received a message from someone telling me that a guy called @fuhrerzakk (yes, I know, yikes) on Twitter had plagiarized my essay and passed it off as my own tweet thread, like, a year ago. Apparently he’d deleted the thread after being caught plagiarizing some OTHER tweet threads (and locked his account shortly after) but they gave me screenshots!

start of the thread! LOOK at all those likes!

and here’s one of the many many screenshots that show that the thread is plagiarized from a possibly too passionate essay I wrote on Winry Rockbell waaaay back in 2013. You can read the whole thing here!

i NEVER pull those numbers on Twitter, and also, 1000 is far beyond the number of likes the original essay got on tumblr! Dang.

Anyway, I contacted the dude with a simple request: please do a tweet admitting that was plagiarism and crediting me. he got back with me very quickly, but has yet to fulfill that request.

I’ll put more details under the cut, but hey. If you’re someone who somehow found this post because you were googling about Zakk or whatever and you liked what “he wrote”, I’ve got a huge backlog of more of the same! I’ve even got a Patreon and Kofi you can look into here! And a writing website here! I’ve been having a tough time for a while now, and I always love feeling like people find something worthwhile in my work. Any support is meaningful.

Now, about my conversation with Zakk:

He responded to me with a very long apology and story of his woe I won’t post here, but I simply made my request again:

Stuff about how he was so sorry again I’ll leave out. I will note the apology he made was clearly not directly to me, since I heard nothing about it, nor did he bother to contact me. I guess a catchall apology to everyone was supposed to be good enough. I made the request again:

After that, radio silence. He never changed the bio or did a tweet. So here I am.

Obviously, don’t harass him. But yeah, I’m not impressed with either his original actions and his lack of follow-through. I’ll leave it at that as my last word on the subject. I just wish my work could get recognized in a more positive way, I guess. What more can I say.

Edit: He’s now credited me and put the link in his bio. I’m fine putting the situation behind me.

#fullmetal alchemist #winry rockbell #plagiarism #fuhrerzakk

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comehomeducklings · 3 years

Text

Present [Part 4] (Obsession)

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1943 ~ 6th year

“What would be the purpose of a wizard or witch to prepare a Polyjuice potion?” Slughorn asks. “Yes, Mr. Riddle?”

Tom drops his hand from the air, “The potion grants the drinker to take the form of another.”

“Yes! And what would happen if said drinker tried to transform into an animal?”

I know this one so I lift my hand.

“Go ahead.”

I clear my throat, “When the human drinker tries to transform into an animal they would not take its complete form. Only sections of said animal.”

Slughorn nods his head, “Can they reverse after a bit of time like normally?”

“No,” I answered. “It takes an extremely long time to wear off, and you might even have to go to the hospital wing.”

He grins and continues to write on the chalkboard. Even though he can enchant the writer's tool to note down itself, I’m guessing he prefers the old-fashioned way.

Tom and I are even on points. When he answers correctly, I also do right after him. I can see him noting down both our points on the corner of his parchment. The black tally marks standing out. Our points are on my paper as well, just in case he decides to cheat. No chances are being taken today, or tomorrow.

“How long does the potion wear off if made correctly?”

Riddle and I both shoot our hands up. His demeanor is calm and collected while I'm sitting on my feet to have my arm raised higher than his. It’s not very fair that his arms are the length of mine to the third power.

“Mr. Nott, what do you know?”

“A single dose could last from 10 minutes to 12 hours.”

Another question wasted by not getting called on. I don’t mind that much since it doesn't keep me behind. Riddle seems to care a little bit too much. His competitive side is showing and I guess his pal is ruining the race.

Professor stole our textbooks for this pop quiz. The rapid-fire questions should “already be memorized and known,” down to the molecular detail. My knowledge only goes so far.

I trust myself, to a point. There’s definitely going to be a question I get wrong and I’m already dreading it. Every answer that falls out of my mouth is examined and thought over ten times before the action of answering arises.

“For something a little different, Mr. Riddle come to the front of the classroom and write four ingredients that are needed for the potion.”

He stands up and pushes his chair in. His eyes as cold as The Black Lake. While he makes his way toward the board I cross my fingers, hoping he forgets one. I know that’s not the kindest, but nothing with him is necessarily “kind.”

There he goes, writing all four ingredients with ease. His handwriting is beautiful. How does he honestly do that? Does he practice every single day to get it that precise?

Maybe I should practice to improve as well. Honestly embarrassing how bad my handwriting seems next to his. We compared essays once, never again. That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. He just laughed at me and kept pointing out how weird my f’s looked.

I swear my letters weren’t that bad. It’s just that he overachieves everything. Now I rewrite every “f” letter that appears on my homework. Thank you for the new insecurity, Riddle.

“Very good! Very good, your turn,” he points towards me. “Three more ingredients this time.”

While I stand in front of the board, I check out what he has already put down. Lacewig flies, leeches, okay not bad. Knotgrass and the hair of the person the drinker will transform into.

He numbered them so I continued on from that.

5) Boomslang skin

6) Fluxweed

Last one, let's see. We already put Lacewig flies, Knotgrass, hair, the skin, and Fluxweed. I hesitate for a little bit, my brain working at high speed. Anxiety levels are higher than Mount Everest.

7) Powdered Bicorn Horn

There we go, I smile to myself proudly. When I turn back around my eyes meet his. He smirks and nods while he writes down a point for both of us. I’m not sure that it counts for four points, just one.

The questions go on for quite a bit. Our tally marks are piling higher and higher. Each of our count's neck and neck for the top spot.

“What is the brewing time?”

“About a month.”

“How does the potion look before the addition of the final ingredient?”

“Thick like the mud after it pours.”

“It also is bubbling.”

“How does it look after adding the final ingredient?”

“Depends on who the witch or wizard made the potion to look like.”

“Varies in taste and color.”

He seems to be done with questions so Tom and I start counting the marks. On my paper, I seem to be .5 points ahead of him. I quickly look his way to see him come to the same conclusion. He takes a deep breath and casts his eyes to the side. Tom then tilts his quill my way signaling that I did indeed win.

I’m about to squeal quite highly but then I recollect I’m in a classroom. Full of people who are terrified to be anywhere in this castle. That would be quite inappropriate of me so I keep my excitement to myself.

Professor Slughorn wipes the whole board away. Clearing all the information we were learning and reviewing about.

“When I pair you up, each of you will grab the right ingredients for this potion and lay it near the front of your desk,” he says. “It should be laid in the order you would normally use when making the concoction.”

“First up, Miss Horn and Miss Yellowbo.”

The classroom starts to move with life as students pair with one another. Some cheerful noises and annoyed ones from who they ended up with. Most of us here know each other. I don’t think I would mind having anyone in this room as my partner.

“Mr. Riddle and-”

Of course, it’s me. Starting to think the pairings’ on purpose. His face shines too brightly for it not to be well planned out. I make my way to the shelves to start out picking the ingredients.

There’s always a moment where my mind decides to give up on me. Most of the elements are obtained. A few are missing.

I’m going over the variety of bottles containing different substances when I feel a looming pressure on my back. An arm slightly grazes past my ear and picks up Fluxweed.

“How do you manage to forget the very ingredient you wrote down on the board?” Toms whispers right by my ear.

I shift my eyesight to the side to see him already looking at me, “Sorry, I blanked out a little.”

He starts seizing half of the ingredients into his hold. I don’t really mind carrying a couple, but I’m just left with one bottle after he takes most of my possessions.

“Taking all the credit now I see,” I tilt my head as I raise my chin to meet his tall build.

“You were about to spill everything. I’m saving you from embarrassment,” he responds cockily.

I started to argue but he already made his way back to the desk, “Everything was perfectly stable in my arms.”

He continues to ignore me and sets down everything. Including the one bottled ingredient in my hand that he snatched just a few moments ago.

“Nothing is ever perfectly stable with you.”

I’m about to whisper a word no children should hear before Slughorn makes his way to our table. Saving Riddle from my rising annoyance.

“Wonderful! You too got all of them perfectly,” he starts. “I would expect no less from my star students.”

All I do is smile brightly in respect. Trying not to drive any more attention to the outburst of pride he has for us.

“Thank you, professor,” Tom says. He starts picking the ingredients off of the table, still barely letting me take any.

Riddle just walks off while our proffesor continues around the room. When he comes back I just about finish wiping the desk of any accidental spills.

“I won our little game this time,” I nudged his shoulder with my own.

Tom slightly rolls his eyes with a small smile, “I see that you have. Just this one though.”

“And many more to come,” I exclaim.

Our attention seeks back to our teacher, “You’ll all be writing an essay about an imaginary way this potion could go wrong. I expect it to be turned in before class tomorrow.”

I hurry to get my textbook off of my area and head towards the back of the classroom near the doorway.

“Everyone split into two groups. This half will go with Riddle while the other is with me.”

I turn my head once more to look at Tom, he’s reassuring one of the students that they are going to be okay.

I only look for a couple of seconds before leading my half of the group out first. A few stops along the way to make sure perfects are keeping order. Most of my group of students have been dropped off. A couple still lures behind me, I picked them up as I worked my way through the castle halls.

They were also dropped off and now I scatter along the hallway to make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. Like every other period, the routine stays the same mostly.

My robes have a few wet spots on them still from the tears of younger students attending this school. I fully believe it won’t be too long until the headmaster and the ministry deal with whoever is making our lives miserable here. The murders will surely not go unjustly.

As I am turning a new hallway I happen to meet up with Riddle.

“All good?”

“Of course,” he responds. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

He seems to look around quite a bit. Like he’s searching for something.

“Head back to your class, I will look around once more.”

That’s the last thing he says before moving around me with his hand on my shoulder. Quickly slipping past me.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“No, no no,” I whisper to myself as I crumple yet another paper in my hand. I throw it on the ground next to me and huff out a breath.

Writing this bloody essay is taking more time than I predicted. It usually comes naturally to me but I can’t seem to write correctly. Every time I make a mistake I have to start over again. My handwriting failing to write neatly for once.

My whole structure and information is already figured out. Writing is what’s taking me the longest. No matter how hard I try, the letters never seem to come out correctly from my quill.

Especially the f’s.

Infuriating really. I only have an hour left until the library closes. It already technically shut down but the librarian gave me an extra three hours as long as I lock up.

Perks of being Head Girl I suppose.

My head is in my hands as I compose myself. It’s late and I’m tired, it’s not even safe to be out at this time. At least if I happen to die I wouldn’t have to write this essay.

“How long have you been trying at this-” a low voice asks behind me.

I jump in my seat, “Oh it’s just you. Well, it’s been-”

“And failing?” Tom finishes as he takes the seat next to me. The chair turned slightly to me.

I roll my eyes and fall further back into my seat. My head turned upwards, admiring the flying books in the ceiling. Finding their place, their way home.

“Probably an hour and a half,” I sigh. “You’re completely right about how bad my calligraphy is.”

He just nods his head and takes a fresh new sheet from the middle of the table. His quill magically appears from inside his robe. All the papers that have the plans for my essay start to float around his head and workspace. Occasionally glancing up at them from time to time and then going back to writing.

His lips are pursed in concentration, “I write my F’s like this. It’s easier that way and extremely easy to practice and write quickly.”

My head peers over his shoulder as I watch him effortlessly indite.

“You try,” he opens up my fingers that were closing my hand and places a quill in them.

I furrow my eyebrows and start to practice my letters on a separate piece of paper that I originally scrapped. I don’t want to waste paper and there’s no reason to get a fresh new one.

We both work quietly in the night until the last few minutes of opening time. Before I left the room I saw him quickly go far back into the library. I never got to ask him why he arrived here so late.

Never saw the need to.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~ Taglist:

@empath-bunny

@jinxqsu

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marlborodean · 3 years

Text

here’s my analysis of a 14-yr-old supernatural episode

so remember that episode where sam fucked a werewolf? because he related to her unwilling monstrosity? well that episode is actually just about dean starting to come to grips with his childhood and his sexuality.

if you ship w/ncest do not interact. this post is not anti-sam either btw.

content warning: discussions of childhood trauma, internalized homophobia, guns, killing.

does include some images with Image Descriptions following them.

[ID: An over-the-shoulder close-up shot from the episode, focused on Madison, the werewolf, as she cries. Dean is standing behind her. They are both looking at Sam, whose shoulder is on the edge of the frame. End ID.]

Brief episode recap just in case u don’t remember. This ep is 2x17 “Heart.” Sam and Dean are hunting a werewolf. They discover that the woman they interviewed, Madison, is a werewolf (not THEE werewolf, but one of them). Sam develops a lil crush on her <3 I wrote the majority of this after watching it for the first time in almost SIX years, so i was just vibing the whole time UNTIL the last shot changed it all for me. So let me explain!

Three important points that i will refer back to:

1. The episode begins with Dean being excited to hunt a werewolf because "what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don't you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven't seen one since we were kids."

2. Then the episode centers on Sam and his relationship with the werewolf woman and his own monstrosity: "[Dean: Sam, she's a monster and you're feeling sorry for her?] Maybe I understand her."

3. BUT THEN the last shot of the episode is of Dean crying as music plays (see below for the specific lyrics) and then Dean jumps at the sound of the gunshot. That's it! That's the end of the episode!

[ID: For all three screencaps, Dean is looking torturously sad. Each one is zoomed a little bit closer to his face than the last. In the last image, Dean sheds a single man tear. The captioned lyrics for the first one say "Relax, child, you were there." The second says "but only didn't realize" and the third says "and you were scared." End ID]

Even though the story is supposed to be about Sam and his monstrosity, and partly about his relationship w/romance since this is the first person he’s slept with since Jess died (at least with what is shown on screen)...the Dean Sandwich tells us otherwise. We're supposed to be taking away something about DEAN here. Like, that's the whole purpose behind the last shot focusing solely on Dean instead of Sam who is AT THAT MOMENT, KILLING THE GIRL HE HAS FEELINGS FOR. It's literally a heartbreaking, devastating, super traumatic thing for Sam to be going through, but instead we're watching Dean as a single tear slides down his face lmao. It's because this episode is about DEAN, and furthering his story.

Let’s not queer this just yet. The death of the werewolf is about/representing his loss of innocence. It's a violent disconnect from his childhood. Point # 1 shows that he is fascinated by werewolves because since he was a kid he thought they were badass, not to mention all the werewolf films he references throughout. Then, through the music lyrics over that last scene, they mirror that theme of childhood. They’ve done this before, having the diegetic music directly reference what the characters are going through. No different here: Dean is the child they’re referring to.

I have to reiterate that that's the last thing we hear before the gunshot cuts the music short and then the cut to black. "You were scared" is the last thing we hear before the gunshot, as Dean cries. ALSO I have to reiterate that Dean was looking forward to killing a werewolf and shooting it himself. So it's super fascinating that, not only is Sam the one that kills the werewolf, WE DON’T EVEN SEE IT HAPPEN.

[ID: A medium-close shot of Dean as he looks at Sam, who takes up the right half of the frame. The caption says, “Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it.” End ID.]

Am i gonna have to say this now? The werewolf is a metaphor, okay? It's a metaphor for his innocence, which is long-dead, forever doomed. I mean, a lot of kids love werewolves because they ARE badass! It's a classic monster that anyone could easily obsess over, and with Dean's childhood it must've seemed even cooler, knowing they're real and having the power to kill this "mythical" beast. So the way he's looking forward to killing one is the way a child imagines themselves as a hero.

But what happens instead is a tragic mercy killing. It's flipping his fantasy completely on its head, and it makes Dean realize that.....his fantasies are just fantasies. They aren't real, never would be. There's nothing heroic about killing this werewolf. It's tragic as hell. When he offers to kill her himself, it's just to relieve Sam's burden, but he's reluctant still. Because, as he keeps saying, he doesn't want to be a hunter! He doesn't want this life! He's tired of killing! And that's also what he's mourning as he cries and startles at the gunshot. His fantasies will never be real and his childhood could never have been normal and he never got a chance to be a kid because being a hunter was thrust on him at such a young age. And now it feels inescapable.

[ID: A gif of the slow zoom on Dean’s face as the single tears slips down his cheek. He jumps at the gunshot, then blinks and his lip wobbles. End ID.]

So now we can queer it :-) Of course all monster stories can be easily queered, but werewolves are popularly queered. The first example that comes to mind is An American Werewolf in London (1981) isn’t an overtly queer film (though it is Jewish!) but it’s definitely read that way by a lot of people!! Anyway the film was directed by John Landis which JUST SO HAPPENS to be the pseudonym Dean goes by in this episode. hmm. (Also, interestingly, the BTVS ep where the first gay character comes out references this film too)

[ID: Sam and Dean are standing close to each other. Sam is in the foreground, not in focus. Dean, behind him, says, “Landis. And Detective Dante.” End ID.]

There’s this essay about the queer werewolf that you can read here (and they also talk about fandom in it! very fascinating), where they say in the intro: “the werewolf seems an obvious choice as a queer monster with its identity-disrupting hybridity, as well as its atavistic, and, thus, disallowable sexuality.” A lot like Kristeva’s theory of the abject body! which is popular in queer theory.

This episode is then queering Sam—his attraction to the werewolf makes him abject—but it also queers Dean thru the way his attitude towards the werewolf transforms (get it?) throughout the ep. His desire and eagerness to kill the werewolves is obviously ingrained in him from John’s parenting. Consider what he said in 2x03 “Bloodlust”: “And the way he raised us, to hate those things—and man, I hate them, I do.” In conjunction with the monsters in the show being seen as queer allegories (the gorgon, as an example of an explicit comparison), Dean’s excitement to kill the werewolf can be read as internalized homophobia and repressing any of his own feelings.

Remember, though, right before that line in “Bloodlust,” he also said, “What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing?” He’s really beginning to question whether all monsters are bad, and what it means to kill them. Is he also questioning what he believes of queer people? What John believed of queer people? The loss of innocence and queering both slot together through that final shot, imo: he’s crying because he realizes his fantasies aren’t real, but he’s also mourning the fact that he never could have had the chance to grow up without John’s control, and now it’s forever tainted his worldview. What else could he have been without that? (The answer is evident in 4x17 “It’s a Terrible Life.”)

Dean was taught to hate queer people but he doesn't want to. He wants to get out of the life but it feels inescapable. He wants to kill a werewolf and then when he has the chance, he doesn't want to. He actually cries as it's killed. It scares him, having to confront that what he thought he knew was wrong, but he knows all the same that he’ll never have the chance to have grown up without that.

#is anyone up? anyone wanna read this? i finished this instead of doing homework #sorry the end is bad LMAO i'm notoriously bad at writing conclusions #also i want to say that the monster allegories in SPN more often have to do with race and not homophobia. but this episode sticks out to me #as representing queerness instead of race. especially because they set it up as compared to Sam's story which is SO queer.#spn #what do i tag this #ej.pdf #supernatural #bi dean #my professors would give me a bad grade on this #portfolio

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