#or metaphorical tunnel vision nonsense
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first proper comic i've ever made! this is for my fic rainspeak; treat it as a bit of a "deleted scene" that takes places right after chapter 13
i never wrote anything from reigen's pov during the last few chapters bc 1) i wanted to focus on the kids, and 2) i'm not totally confident in my ability to write something compelling from that pov w those circumstances. so here's a comic instead <3
#qkdraws#yes i am insane#pls don't look at the roads. idk how to draw roads i did my best#like i said this is my first ever attempt at a comic so if the pacing is off or the paneling is mediocre uhm . go look at professional art#idk why ur here if ur lookin for someone experienced in comics. i am not ur guy#mob psycho 100#mp100#reigen arataka#mp100 reigen#the main thing i was worried abt w this project was getting burnt out in the middle#and also consistency between pages#hope to god it all like . connects well. (TIP: DON'T LOOKAT THE ROADS!!!!!!!!)#anyway i learned quite a lot from this ! projects like this r a rly cool learning experience#i despise backgrounds so im rly glad i managed to hide them most of the time either by dumb luck w speech bubbles#or metaphorical tunnel vision nonsense#if this post flops i think ill cry <3#tw decapitated head#tw decapitation#tw dead body#tw blood
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KOT ficlet #6 (Kudou Chika/Houzuki Satowa)
(Events based after the most recent update that had me screaming into oblivion.)
Needle in a thread
His first thought is, not them.
He recalls his horror when they took away the one person who had loved him, the one that lit fireworks in his darkness.
But before he had time to mourn, the torch had been passed—like some sort of metaphorical relay race—into fresh, affectionate, and welcoming hands. They cared, nurtured, and gave purpose to his existence.
The child hated by a parent, the child of calamity.
Of disaster.
And now that he’s built a home, a hideaway to rush back to whenever things seemed too rough, like hell he’d let the demons of his past have it their way.
He drops down carefully, one knee after another, placing folded hands in front of the head tucked in between his legs.
Because Chika is desperate and he has no pride to protect to begin with, so pleading before them to let him just live outweighed any sense of shame he’d feel.
But he’s naive to think Uzuki cares.
There was something bizzare about the boy since he’d met him, how he changed based on what the situation called for—like a snake shedding layers of its skin.
The light at the end of the tunnel vanishes, but Chika pushes on, pouring the deepest parts of his soul in front of the people that ruined him once before.
Because Chika refused to let his torch dim, the flame protected by so many, he couldn’t be any more grateful.
Uzuki snickers, instructing Abiko and taking a blow to the face.
“I’ll tell everyone you did this to me.” He smiles.
Chika’s light is bright.
But his darkness is all-consuming. It wraps him like a blanket of thorns, clawing to tear chunks of his soul away. In the end, who could he save?
Who could save him?
“I’m tired of all of this!”
He snaps his head, facing the voice, breathing life into his own.
Houzuki stands with her back to him, confronting the men with such ferocity, they stutter for a second.
“To hell with your ‘ruin his life’ nonsense,” she huffs, swinging her hair like a whip. “I’m taking him home!”
He had so many questions.
Houzuki grumbles under her breath all the way out, twisting and turning from one street to the other, tugging him behind her like a four-year-old.
Why was she here to begin with?
Usually, he’d shrug her away. He’d tease the ever loving crap out of her and watch Houzuki turn a brighter shade of crimson every time while subtly keeping his distance from the intense urge to hold her close.
But today, when he looks at her, Chika sees more than just Satowa.
He sees a woman with the will of a stallion, dulling her blade in front of no one, however intimidating they might be.
He sees the hand of a woman he could not help but admire.
Couldn’t help but love.
He stops walking, looking at the fingers wrapped delicately around his wrist as if Chika realised for the first time that he was holding the hand of the woman he fell in love with a long time ago.
“Are you tired?” comes her tender voice filled with concern, as she looks around, “Do you want to sit for a while?”
He looks into her worried eyes and quickly drops his gaze, to the hand she wouldn’t leave. On any normal day, by now Satowa would let go, a shade of bright pink spreading down her arm to her toes.
Today she holds his hand, firm and gentle, both at once, neither shaking nor blushing at the contact that was progressively setting his nerves on fire.
And admitting his feelings was easy. It was easy for him to look at every minute he’d spent with her—in sorrow, in joy—that Chika was irrevocably in love with her.
He’d give the Sun if she demanded it, the moon adorned as an elegant crescent ring around her finger. He’s so in love that he forgets his past, that he could endanger Houzuki and her entire family.
But it looms around him like a constant-present shadow. So he sharpens his facade to protect her.
“You shouldn’t follow me to places like this,” he swallows, maintaining his composure as best as he can. “It’s dangerous. Are you stupid? Don't pull a stunt like this again.”
He steals a glimpse at her, pushing strands of loose hair behind her ear with not an ounce of regret or fear of her actions.
“If anything, you’re the stupid one,” she replies, ebony eyes staring straight into his as he raises an eyebrow in question.
“For thinking you’d need to face this alone.”
He stills, feeling her thumb stroke his bruised knuckles, eyes steadily turning a shade lighter.
“I understand,” she says, “I understand you’ve been fighting your battles by yourself all these years. You feel responsible for everything—like you deserve divine punishment for sins you didn’t commit to begin with,”
“But for once, point the blame to those that deserve it.” her grip tightens. “Tell them to,” she sucks in a sharp breath.
“Eat shit for all I care.”
Her gaze softens as he peers into her eyes; for solace, for the comfort he’s never had. That he’s never asked for.
“You’re only human, Kudou, and humans make mistakes. We all do. Does that mean we need to be crucified for it?”
He shakes his head from one side to another in an unspoken response.
“The past won’t change, no matter how hard we try. But the future.....” she grimaces, “Our circumstances are different now. No one helped you then—no one stood for you,”
Satowa’s smile is melancholy, like rain and snow at once, as she cups his cheek with her free hand.
“But you have me now,” she whispers, lacing her fingers into the groove between his. He peers into those abysmal eyes and sees a promise.
“The only day I’ll let go of this hand will be the day I die.”
In a flash, Chika breaks.
He shatters like smashed glass, scattering across the ground in shards of built up agony. He feels the tears forming in his eyes as he looks into hers, chin wobbling uncontrollably. His heart squeezes in his chest as everything sinks in—Dad, Mom, Grandpa, everyone he’s loved and lost.
And she stays there throughout, rubbing warm circles into his much bigger palm, a distant sorrow in her eyes.
This woman, this beautiful, wonderful woman, had saved him on more occasions than he could count.
She was the white to his black, yin to his yang painting his life with every colour in the spectrum between them.
The Sun sets not far behind, fiery orange encircling her like a golden halo. And that’s all it takes—the gleaming sky behind her, the tears in her eyes, the ones in his.
He pulls her forward gently, letting Satowa fall against him as every type of warmth rushes through his veins.
She stills for a moment, leaning against him, not a hair on her head moving. Chika gives her time, space enough to let go if this isn’t what she wants. God knows he doesn’t want to force her.
When she leaves his hand, Chika thinks it’s all over. And that’s okay.
He’s okay with that.
Instead, Satowa throws her arms around his neck, face sinking into the groove of his chest, nuzzling the space where his heart beats erratically.
He takes a moment to register, but when realisation sets in, Chika pulls her tighter to himself, fingers working through the strands of her hair, chin resting comfortably above her head.
In those small arms, Chika feels the affection she holds radiating with every fibre of her being. She stands on her toes, reaching higher to lay her head on his shoulder. He draws her up by the waist, anchoring her safely to his chest.
“You’re not alone,” she whispers into his collarbone, the touch of her lips, a second of pure bliss for him. He shivers at the contact, holding his breath to stop his thoughts from escalating.
“You’re not alone,” Satowa repeats, chin resting against his chest as she stares into his eyes, lowering one hand to trace his jaw in short, quiet strokes.
“You have me forever.”
When Chika kisses Satowa, he feels everything all at once. The rustling of the leaves dull, his heartbeat overpowering every sound in existence.
When she kisses him back, realisation sinks in that this woman, this beautiful wonderful woman, would give him the world too.
Chika stands in the centre of their universe, two supernovae colliding against the speed of the world, her breath against his skin like warm sunlight streaming in through a window.
When Chika looks into her eyes, he sees himself in them, trapped in a circle of warm ebony. He watches her smile brighten when she raises herself just enough to wipe the tears he doesn’t remember crying.
Today, when he looks at Satowa, Chika sees salvation. He sees his world.
“Forever,” he sighs as they walk back side by side, fingers intertwined, like needle and thread. She gazes at him, instinctively moving closer.
For once, Chika would let himself be protected. Because Satowa was a force to reckon with. She’s fierce and brave and he’s safe in her arms.
Chika really smiles then, one so wide his eyes crinkle and vision narrows to the one person who matters more than any other.
The world has to allow him this one moment of greed.
“Forever isn’t long enough.”
Yay! I wanted to write something for so long! This idea came to me after randomly listening to "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift.
Thank you for reading, and being patient with me. I love y'all so much <<3
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What Are We but Human
Every story has a beginning and a middle.
Luke knows this. He’s lived through it; he’s been taught it. He’s also been taught that every story has an end, too, but he knows from personal experience that this is very rarely true.
The best and the worst stories never end.
It’s only the mediocre ones that do. It’s only the ones that leave your mind as soon as the last page is turned. The best stories—and the worst—are the ones that leave you thinking why and but only and what if.
Those are the stories Luke likes best.
Because there’s a place in his heart for nightmares and fear and endless boredom. There’s a part of him that aches to be hurt; he needs pain like he needs air if he’s going to keep on waking up in the morning.
Maybe that’s why the person he’s sitting across from isn’t Remus or James or even Sirius Black—because Remus is wisdom and James is resistance and Sirius is anger.
And Saint isn’t any of those things. Or maybe he’s all of them—Luke hasn’t quite figured that out yet.
Saint is quick. He always has been. His tongue is quick to insult; his eyes are quick to notice; his fingers are quick as they drum on the table. Luke isn’t sure why they’re there, and he’s not going to ask.
It would be fruitless, though, to wait for Saint to tell him, so he leans back in his chair. He’s aiming for nonchalance, but he knows Saint can see right through him. They’re the only ones in the house, and being alone with Saint has never given Luke cause to feel anything but fear.
No, not quite fear. Recklessness—the need to do something stupid. He loves and hates it at the same time.
The thought crosses his mind that maybe this is how Saint feels all the time, and it’s just rubbing off on him. Are bad decisions contagious?
They must be, because opening his mouth to do something other than take a swig of his root beer is probably the most stupid thing Luke has ever done in his life.
“There’s a theory,” he says, knowing he should stop talking—put down the metaphorical shovel before he digs any deeper—but not seeming to be able to, “that the universe is constantly expanding. That infinity is larger now than it was last week, or yesterday, or even ten seconds ago.”
Saint looks up at him through his eyelashes. He arches one eyebrow, halfway between curious and skeptical. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because infinity is infinity—because if something never stops, it only makes sense that it would never stop not stopping.”
“I think you lost me around the same time you started talking, Tweedle.”
No-nonsense. He doesn’t get it. How can someone like Saint, someone wild and free and dangerous, be so down-to-earth, so poignant, when he needs to be?
Luke skips the bullshit. He doesn’t know where all that talk of infinity came from and he doesn’t know if he cares. His hands curl into fists under the table, nails digging into his palms. He takes a breath and decides, fuck this. He decides I won’t be a coward. I won’t.
“Have you ever loved someone you shouldn’t?”
***
Saint never has been one for silver. No, Saint likes gold—glittering and malleable and surprisingly cool to the touch.
It goes with his hair. It goes with his personality. It goes with his unquenchable desire to be the best. Gold doesn’t blend in, and neither does Saint.
Maybe that’s why it’s so surprising—to him, at least, but he knows he could have seen it coming from miles away if he really, truly tried—that of all the people in his world, it was Luke Deveaux who caught his eye. Luke is the dull gleam of silver. He’s harsh and unrelenting. And, when he bites the corner of his lip and meets Saint’s gaze, the look in his chocolate-brown eyes is inexplicably warm.
That might be why it hurts so much to have to say, “I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone at all.”
He watches as something in Luke crumbles. He watches as Luke breaks.
And then he watches as Luke picks up the pieces and shoves them back together.
A survivor, Saint thinks to himself. I like survivors.
Luke smiles. He tilts his head to one side.
“Want to learn how?”
When he inhales, it’s like Saint’s lungs are filling with air for the first time. His vision tunnels to the boy in front of him; all he can see is Luke with his coffee-brown hair and his eyes that hold the universe and his faint half-grin and the dimple that Saint is now close enough to see.
Saint has never loved before. Not really. Not like this.
But maybe Luke—bruised and battered and trying-to-heal Luke, Luke the God whom he tried so hard to hate, Luke who can take a punch like nobody’s business—will be able to change that.
***
Luke watches as the pink of Saint’s tongue flickers out over his lips. If he didn’t know better, he would label it as nervous, but he knows that Saint doesn’t get nervous. Saint gets hesitant; Saint gets terrified.
There’s no in between.
He hopes this is the latter. He can deal with Saint being scared of him—after all, when have they not been scared of each other; or at least scared of what the other’s presence brings—but hesitant? Hesitant means he’s offered something Saint can’t accept. Hesitant means that somewhere in all the taking, Luke has forgotten what it means to give.
But then Saint swallows. “I think,” he begins, and then stops.
Luke waits.
“I think,” Saint says again, “I’d like that very much.”
***
They’re kissing.
Saint has no idea how they came to be pressed together against the wall, hands tangled in hair and cupped around cheeks, lips practically locked in battle, emotions overflowing like he’s never felt before—he’s crying, isn’t he; they both are—and he thinks to himself, if this isn’t love, I can’t imagine what is.
***
Luke doesn’t know much. What he does know is this:
Saint is kissing him.
Saint is everything.
This may be a beginning, and it may be a middle, but it sure as hell isn’t an end.
Amazing characters are by @lumosinlove
@im-oknutzy-trash
#Lukaint?#is that the ship name that was decided on?#luke x saint#watch me write fic for a ship that has like 2.5 canononical interactions#and one of them involves punching each other's lights out#I love these to too much for words#but I wrote words anyway#cause I'm a writer#that's what I do#relic keel lumosinlove#saint#luke deveaux#I am not sorry for the POV switches#silver and gold analogies#as promised#and I hope the kisses live up to your expectations hannah#idk what voice I was using for this but I kinda like it
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Six Feet Under
Summary: Greed’s lover watches him die. He doesn’t remember who he was, but he remembers her. *Loosely based off of the song “Six Feet Under” by Billie Eilish!*
Word Count: 1731
Disclaimer! I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or its characters, but the words and ideas below are mine!
+How can you die carelessly?+
Deep below the city, a woman was struggling with a boyless suit of armor and her friend who was inside it. Odd things happen when you fall for skeevy dudes. She can hear Martel berating the kid, and the kid inching along the ground anyway. His metal scraped against the pavement and irritated her. Making a face, she put a foot on him to keep him from squirming so much.
“Keep still, kid.”
Looking up from her current duty as babysitter, she sees her lover sauntering over to meet them. Martel pokes her head out of the poor boy’s helmet and acknowledges him.
“Greed!”
“What’s happening up there?” the other woman asks before the smooth talker can get a word in.
He takes her chin in his hands and plants a chaste kiss on her lips before speaking, “Glad to know you’re alright, Dollface. And as inquisitive as ever.”
Martel speaks again, ignoring the tension between the two others, “What’s going on? The others haven’t come back yet.”
“Yeah…. Things have gotten a little out of hand. So we need to figure a way out of here…”
“I can’t let you do that,” a totally new voice cuts in.
The chimera gasped and folded herself back into the armor. The redhead opposite Greed took a step back with wide eyes. Before getting involved with the homunculus and his band of chimera, she was a normal girl. This normal girl knew exactly who that man was. Everyone expressed shock at his presence, but she stayed quiet. He went on about aging and his body not being what it used to be as he took strides forward.
Greed laughed at him, “I’ve got an idea. Retire!”
Silver flashed in front of her face and Greed’s hand was lopped off into sewer water. Now she shrieked, trying to rush forward to help. Greed’s remaining hand shoved her back against the wall.
“Well look at that, the old man’s got some moves!”
Then all hell broke loose. Swords barely missed the Avaricious’ form, some nicking him anyway. The fight pushed past the three bystanders and got more chaotic. Dust clouds formed and concrete broke under Greed’s body. It continued to look like it was gaining brutality until they were too far down the dark tunnel too see.
Tears streamed down the powerless girl’s face. She sat with her knees to her chin next to the suit of armor. Finally she decided she wouldn’t be powerless. She got up and unchained the boy.
“I can’t take this anymore. Kid, take her away from here. I have to go help Greed.”
“No! I won’t let you! You’ll die!” the boy exclaims with the woman inside him yelling as well.
She nodded, “Probably… but I have to try. He’d do it for me.”
Just as she turned to go, Greed stumbled into view.
“Greed!”
She tried to run to him. Then her face fell when he did, a sword impaling his neck. Martel put up a fight again and the boy struggled to keep her in. He used a metal hand to try and hold back the other devastated woman as well.
“How many times do I have to kill you for you to just stay dead? That’s fifteen times you’ve died now. How many lives do you have left?” The Fuhrer questions.
“You son of a bitch!” the ruby haired girl cursed. Before she could make a move, the armor wrapped her up and lifted her feet off the ground. Her chimera friends finally came back and made their last stand right in front of her eyes. The poor bodiless boy had to restrict and console the two women as their friends died. Greed got back up and spewed some nonsense about his possessions, which his lover knew wasn’t all true. He loved them, and he loved her. They were more than possessions, they were family. The woman almost slipped away when she saw how bad it was getting and Greed fell again. This time it was for good, the sewer water poured over his motionless form.
Unraveling into hysterics when her lover stopped moving, she was tossed over the armor’s shoulder. She struggled against him. She wanted revenge and she wanted it right then. The man that killed her lover was walking her way, but she couldn’t escape the boy’s clutches.
“Alphonse? Aren’t you the brother of Edward Elric? They didn’t hurt you did they?”
Alphonse stuttered out a response and gently set down the woman behind him and held her back. Martel had other ideas as she slipped her arm into his and gripped the Fuhrer’s throat.
“Die Bradley!”
From behind the armor, the redhead could only hope Martel was succeeding as she didn’t have the strength to fight back anymore. The annoying metal scraping noise found its way back to her ears, although this time it was deadly. Blood gushed out of the armor and onto her clothes. She screamed and stared at her hands. The only barrier between her and the man who massacred everyone she cared for slumped to the ground. They were a mere two feet apart, the military leader closed that space almost instantly. She would have gasped but his hand was on her throat. Clawing at his fingers trying to regain breath, she fought with what little energy she had left. The back of her skull met the wall. Hard. Black was encroaching her vision.
“Hm… well now. Greed’s little pet… If I let you live you might be helpful in the future,” he dropped her harshly.
She fell to her knees and roughly inhaled. She could feel bruises forming around her neck already.
“Run along now, before I change my mind, Pet.”
The blood drenched girl stood shakily and obeyed. She ran and ran and didn’t stop.
+Could roses bloom again?+
Months later, in a different part of the country, the girl had settled into a new life. A new life that entailed no illegal activity or involvement with the military. She had been under the radar. No one noticed her or anything she did. She was back to being ordinary.
Until a hand snatched her wrist. Immediately going into defense mode, she pulled a knife on her assailant. She had kept one on her person ever since the day the Fuhrer nearly strangled her.
“Dollface.”
She was frozen in shock. No one called her that, except…
The small knife clattered to the ground and tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, “Greed?”
The unrecognizable homunculus smirked, “In the flesh… well, someone else’s flesh.”
She gaped at the tall Xingese boy he seemed to be inhabiting. His eyes were the same violet they used to be… and he called her by the term only he used… A million questions and skepticisms ran through her head, but they all stopped when he cupped her cheek.
“I lost everything, but I remember you. You’re mine. That’s all I know,” he continued.
“That’s all you need to know.”
The redhead pulled his new form closer, fully accepting this was her lover. Their lips met for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. She had to feel him again, it had been too long, and she saw him die. Before she asked anything of him, she needed this one thing first. Pulling away she traced his lips. They were different than the ones she’d coveted previously. Stoically he let her examine him, but held her still when he noticed tears streaming down her face. He led her over to a clear alley where they could talk in private.
“Hey… Dollface what’s wrong?”
“How are you here? You really died… no regenerating. You just… died, Greed!”
He pondered that for a bit, wondering if he should even tell her all that’s happened to him up until the exact moment he recognized her from a past life. It was a hazy deja vú seeing her for the first time again. The avaricious’ metaphorical heart panged when memories of her flooded back to him. His own possession had been returned, whether it be by fate or god he had to have her again.
“I can’t explain it all. I don’t remember dying. I just know how I felt when I saw you over there.”
She looked disappointed in his answer.
“Where have you been?” She asks, pitifully.
“I can’t say, Dollface. It’s best you don’t know.”
His prized possession was clearly offended by that, “What’s that supposed to mean?” She scoffed.
“I mean that I’m in deep right now. I want you. No, I need you. But this isn’t going to end well for me, I know that. Let me protect you from it all.”
“Protect me? How? By keeping me in the dark? You were never like this before, Greed!” She yelled and shoved him. How dare he treat her like a damsel now. They’d been through so much together and she’s never once needed his protection. She’s handled herself without him all this time.
“I love you.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his form when his words disarmed her. Sure they’d said the phrase before but it was rare. Greed always pretended to see their makeshift family as objects to have, not to love. He pretended to be so above it all, so when he says that it means something.
“Greed…”
He sighed, “I need you to be safe. So you can’t come with me when I leave here.”
Immediately she puts up a fight, “What? No way, I just got you back! I go where you go!”
“Not this time, babe.”
They stood in silence, arms still around each other, for a while. Greed spoke again, “Look, I’m gonna be here for a few days. We can make it last. I’ll come back to you after all this is over, okay?”
He saw her eyes had been swimming, “When will it be over?”
“I don’t know, Dollface.”
“Do you promise to come back to me as soon as it is? I need you to swear to me, Greed.”
The homunculus felt in his core he wouldn’t make it. He wouldn’t be king of the world, or even have the girl he loves in the end. But telling her a lie isn’t the worst thing he’s done.
“I promise.”
#fma#fmab#greed fma#greed fmab#greedling#ling yao#fanfiction#mf-oneshots#one shot#fma oneshot#romance#fluffy?#greed x reader#billie eilish#songfic#oc#reader#anime#Full Metal Alchemist#Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood#homunculus
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There’s no place like home- part 10
Summary: The reader has had a unique gift all her life. While considering it a curse, she discovers the identity of her real father after her mothers passing. Journeying towards her new life, she finds herself thrown within the Winchester’s world. Is it her destiny?
Setting: End of season 13. This takes place after episode 13.18.
Warnings: Language. Some angst, fluff, drama- a typically SPN episode. POV may switch after certain sections.
A/N: Well, it was bound to happen, and here it is...I hope you all enjoyed the little Easter eggs that I had left along the way because this part and the next are some of the big reveals... Did you spot them before? I told you this was a long thought out story.
Any grammatical mistakes are all my own, because I am human. Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!
Series Masterlist
Being pulled forcefully by a surprisingly strong Y/N, Dean couldn’t help himself but to look amongst the crowd at the glaring eyes as they approached the overly pushy woman’s husband in the midst of discussing something about an Adlerian in a small congregation of others all dressed to the nines. What that was, he had no clue, but they sounded like they had some issues. Y/N had pressed her nails into his arm so deeply as they approached them, he was sure to have an interesting bruise later. He stood to her side watching her eyes move through those speaking, wondering what exactly she was seeing that made her act that way.
“Paul,” Gina interrupted the older heavy set man whom was leading the discussion. “This is Dr. Y/L/N and her friend…I’m sorry what was your name sweetheart?”
Dean grunted silently to himself before flashing a tight lipped smile while responding with “Bobby Dean, ma’am, but everyone calls me Dean”.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” Y/N chimed in to bring the attention back to herself from the overseers.
“Pleasure is all mine Dr. Y/L/N,” he grinned while extending his hand to meet hers. “I thoroughly enjoyed your research on the religiosity of paranormal hallucinations amongst teens. Very insightful and informative on how religious beliefs can influence what one is experiencing, even at such a young age.”
“I’m surprised you have read my work,” she commented with disbelief in her voice. “My field is not a very popular one amongst others.”
“Well that is nonsense,” a woman, maybe in her late 40’s and a black laced dress quipped. “Beliefs in the paranormal have been around almost as long as the world has. That is why we look forward to you joining us Dr. Y/L/N. I am sure you will find that Lawrence is filled with a rich history of paranormal sightings and believers.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” she stated with a slight sarcastic tone while flashing an innocent smile.
“Come on Y/N, I have to have you meet the others,” Gina exclaimed while again pulling Y/N to follow her lead without hesitation. Dean chuckled as he stepped closely behind them. There may be a room full of monsters and two hunters present, but Gina was right now the one calling the shots here. She was downright terrifying.
It was almost comical the way she moved Y/N from one group to another going through the same introductions over and over. Dean would just stand quietly behind Y/N, only nodding with a tightlipped smile when he was introduced. He felt naked standing there in the middle of the room without anything useful to gank something with. He was 007 in a tux without the awesome toys for a daring escape.
Men and women in white coats would move through the crowd, carrying trays of food as they moved from one group to another, which Dean did not shy away from. For what might be his last meal on earth, it wasn’t that bad. The crab cakes were a little dry, but those little meaty things with cheese wrapped in bacon was his favorite. Y/N would shoot him a hard look every once in a while as someone else spoke about something that sounded way too complicated than what it really was. Why couldn’t they just speak in plain English? Why would they keep talking about conditioning instead of learning? It’s not like they were rinsing and repeating…wait scratch that, repeating is a part of the process he was now educationally informed of. He now found a new appreciation for the subject. No wonder Y/N was quick with the metaphors and similes.
He watched Y/N as she interacted with each of them. She acted so calm and composed that he would have sworn she was either not fazed by what was around her, or she was the best damn actress he had ever seen. Watching her face, her seemingly genuine smile as she listened to the other’s words he would notice a slight shift in her eyes from him to another standing in close proximity. He couldn’t tell what she was doing at first until while she was speaking she would add in words that raised the red flags, making sure to annunciate key syllables, like “De…come ON.” Sometimes she would motion to certain body parts on her casually after she shifted her eyes, like itching her skin or a quick tap on a major artery, almost like she was silently telling Dean what was nearby. Her subtlety was remarkable. Any other time he would have loved to see her on a hun. He could only guess that she was even better in the field.
Dean was thrown out of his thoughts as he walked slowly behind Y/N being dragged yet again, when he heard Gina add a little word when introducing him to the crowd. Boyfriend. Y/N was quick to correct her, like she had blurted out a sinful word, but Gina only smiled widely while winking at Dean like she knew there was something going on between them. Gina was now starting to become his favorite person as the band started to play and she suggested that they enjoy the dance floor. Dean gracefully held out his hand to Y/N, who stepped back in hesitation with a raised eyebrow but after looking around to the other happy dancing couples she gave in.
He led her out towards the middle as the stringed quartet played in harmony the melody of the timeless classic he had once heard his mom sing when he was young- Somewhere over the rainbow. He pulled her to him closely, allowing his one hand to fall at the small of her back and the other to hold hers while leading them into a slow dance.
“So this is a college party, huh?” he whispered in her ear.
“Oh yeah, partying with monsters all night is such a fun treat,” she silently giggled back while moving closer to his ear.
“It is with you,” he smiled while moving her with him rhythmically to the melody.
The smell radiating off of her was intoxicating. She smelled like she was from a dream he once had, that he had never wanted to wake up from. Her hand in his felt so small, but so soft while fitting perfectly within his grasp. He pulled her a little closer to him, not ever wanting to let go as he let the craziness of the worlds drift from his thoughts. This was where he wanted to be. This felt like home.
The song had ended and they had started up an old Sinatra tune that was more upbeat, Y/N pulled herself away from Dean while looking up through her eyelashes to him.
“Dean, I…”
“What is it?” he asked while feeling his heart starting to race as he saw a little shimmer in her gaze.
“I…um, I’ll be right back,” she smiled before leaving him on the dance floor and heading towards the long hallway into the ladies room.
He walked over to the bar and ordered himself another drink, hoping to quiet down the butterflies that were now going a million flutters a minute in his stomach.
“Having a goodnight sir?” the bartender asked politely.
Dean gave a little laugh as he thought about everything that was going on around him, but yet all he could think about was her. “Yeah, you could say that. Considering all things, I think I’m in falling in love.”
_________________________________________________________
Your heart was racing as you left Dean on the dance floor. In that moment with him, everything around you had seemed to fade out like you had tunnel vision only for him. It was downright scary, but you wanted it to go on. The concept of it only being the two of you, holding on to one another sent your stomach into a twist of nerves. Is that what falling in love feels like? You wanted to say something, but as he looked at you with those damn bright green eyes you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. While your worlds had seemed in intertwine at times, your realities were complex. When danger lurked, you carelessly would throw yourself in the midst to save others just like him. You didn’t care what happened to you and neither did him. That was the problem, you would allow yourself to care if you said those words, putting yourselves in even more of a risk of inevitable heartache.
Gripping the porcelain sink with both hands to stabilize yourself while you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, you started to focus on the information you had gathered from all your interactions. Listing in your head the departments in which the monster’s resided, you counted them one by one while taking in slow steady breathes. Two demons in engineering, a werewolf in marketing, djin in bio...It wasn’t until the smell of sulfur whiffed across your noise that you realized you were not alone. Glancing up into the mirror you saw the fire surrounding her as she stood directly behind you smiling.
“We need to talk.”
She didn’t even flinch as you moved slowly while still looking at her to retrieve the small butterfly knife you had tucked within the bodice of your dress. You quickly snapped it open while moving to yourself now behind her with your arm around her, the cool silver blade pressing into her neck.
“That won’t do anything but make a mess my dear,” she laughed.
“Yeah but the devil’s trap carved into it will keep you still,” you seethed through your teeth.
“Why would you want to do that when I am the one who invited you?”
You pressed the blade even more to her neck while considering your options. Option 1, gank her and possibly go to jail for the rest of your life since anyone could walk in at any moment. Option 2, listen to her. You pulled it away and flipped it close, but kept it in your hands as you stepped back from her.
“Talk.”
“I see your reputation does not proceed you, you are quick. Oh and don’t try to exercise me unless you want a dead body to explain. This meat suit died a long time ago,” she laughed.
“I can see that,” you stated firmly after looking for any hint of another light trapped inside.
“Good, see we are not all that bad,” she stated while turning to examine in the mirror the little red mark you had just given her on her neck.
“So why was I invited here? Why have a hunter come right to your door?”
“Us monsters have to stay together,” she grinned. It made you shudder when she had said that word, monster. She had noticed and was now laughing. “Oh come on. You didn’t think you were human did you? No, you my dear are a special type of monster, a man-made one that is capable of all sorts of fun things.”
You stared her down as you felt your heart begin to race at her words. You knew you were different, often considering yourself a freak…but this? No, not true. Demons lie.
“I’m not lying sweetheart,” she answered as almost reading your mind. “Just ask your boyfriend Dean Winchester to show you the Men of Letter’s archives. I bet you will find your answer there. Why do you think the adrenaline rushes through you all the time and you find satisfaction in the kill? Why you grow older, yet remain youthful and beautiful. How you are able to come out unscathed from a fight while others are not so lucky. You are just like us.”
You went to open your mouth to speak but she interrupted you again. “Brave little girl bringing a Winchester in here, but I guess you didn’t know. Don’t worry, he is safe here. We all have bigger trouble coming.”
“And what trouble would ever make me or him team up with you?”
“Lucifer is loose thanks to them. Not only that his son created a little rip in time and space, and we don’t want that happening again. All sorts of bad could come through,” she spoke while slowly circling you.
“Lucifer doesn’t have a son,” you sneered while watching her closely as she neared you.
“Oh yes he does. Little baby Jack. The Winchesters have raised him. We haven’t been able to find him though lately. Knowing your…talents, I am sure that you would love to help us destroy that monstrosity.”
“Why should I?”
“Because a lot of people will die unless him and his father are put down in that cage where they belong. We have a certain order around here, not harming the living. We have come to find a way to all live without giving into our natural urges. We wouldn’t want anything to ruin that because of an impending apocalypse now would we? Mass genocide in the chaos?” she now looked directly into your eyes before quickly turning on her heels to walk out the door. “We will be in touch Y/N.”
Her words had left you frozen in place as she walked out the door. A part of you wanted to just figure out how to take them all out, but the other knew you needed to find out the truth. Swinging the door open, you made your way into the great hall. Your eyes searching for Dean who was standing alone at the bar, patiently waiting for you with a smile on his face. Your feet swiftly glided you towards him as you pulled onto his arm to move him towards the wall.
“We need to talk, now!” you commanded through your teeth, trying not to bring attention to you.
“Everything all right?” he asked perplexed by your sudden mood shift.
“Who is Jack?”
Dean let out an audible sigh, searching your face for the words that he was going to say, like he didn’t want you to ever know.
“Jack,” he muttered quietly while glancing at the people moving around the room. “Is Lucifer’s son.”
“So that’s true? Lucifer is up from the cage making babies?”
“Jack isn’t a baby, Y/N. Somehow he is like young adult already and he is only a couple months old.”
The dryness in your throat was not relieved at all by the hard swallow that came as a reaction to his words. It was true. A Nephilim was out there. Not only that, it was the spawn of Satan himself. Looking amongst the crowd you saw the demon whom had cornered you in the bathroom looking at the two of you, smiling widely at the spectacle unfolding.
“Dean,” you tried calmly to say. “I am going to need you to tell me everything right now.”
He was reluctant at first, but you managed to push it out of him as he revealed the story of Kelly and her child Jack along with the other world that now held him as well as Dean’s mom. While he explained everything, the both of you would stop and smile while nodding politely to the friendly faces walking close by, perhaps trying to eavesdrop on your conversation. While a nuclear bomb was being thrown down in front of you, you did your best to pretend like it was just a friendly conversation. That way none would be the wiser, and no alerts would go off to any creatures watching.
“So basically what you are telling me is that there is another world created by the half angel?”
“It wasn’t created by him, just rather opened.”
“And Lucifer is up and running around doing whatever he wants?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugged.
“So humanity is doomed yet again? Oh and look who is involved!” you sarcastically laughed.
“Lucifer having a kid was not my plan,” he growled through his teeth.
“Yeah but he is out of his cage, and why? Your little angel friend. Because? You idiots couldn’t just let him rot!” you growled back a little louder. You turned to look amongst the crowd to see if it had shifted anyone’s focus to you. Luckily it hadn’t. You took in a deep breath before continuing while looking into his eyes that were obviously affected by your words. He was hurt and you could see it. There was so much more now that he needed to keep his focus on, and you were not one of them. You had to let him go. “Look, I should have known better than to get all mixed up with you. Hell, a reaper even warned me about you. We are going to leave now. We are going back to my house where you are going to take your brother and leave. Whatever is going on, you fix it and we never see each other again. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
_________________________________________________________
The parking attendant was quick to retrieve her car as he saw her coming through the outside doors. The night sky was nice, but you couldn’t quite see all of the stars, at least not like you could at the bunker. How quickly everything seemed to turn upside down yet again in a short amount of time. A seemingly innocent night together was interrupted by the dammed, and even when things were looking up after the dance floor, they came crashing down yet again.
A million questions raced through Dean’s mind as they waited. Who had even told her about Jack? Who in the room even knew about him? More importantly, if they knew about Jack then they had to know who he was, so why wasn’t he dead now or Y/N for that matter. All questions he wanted to ask, but kept them to himself. She never wanted to see him again after tonight. The next 20 minutes would be the last he would ever get to see her face. He had to cherish them. And that is what he did as the two of them drove in silence towards her house. The rumbling of the engine was the only noise to be heard.
___________________________________________________________
Hanging back at Y/N’s house while Dean escorted her to her function wasn’t really as bad as it sounded. Sam rather enjoyed it as he got to glance through the books while organizing them neatly on the shelves and looking at some of the photo albums that documented her whole life. In his favorite, she was a smiling little girl in pig tails sitting on the hood of what he could only guess would one day be her Baby with a middle aged man standing next to her posing brightly. That must have been her step dad. He looked like an alright guy, definitely wasn’t Bobby though. Sam could see the tiny resemblances with Y/N and Bobby, like the smirk they did when they know they are right. This guy? None.
Sam had finally put away the last box of books while flattening out the cardboard neatly in a pile when he bumped into the little end table, knocking down the mahogany framed photo to shatter into pieces. Sam yelled at himself for ruining such a precious heirloom to Y/N, hoping that she wouldn’t hate him when he admitted the accident to her. He knelt down to pick up the pieces, hoping at least the photo was unscathed. Nestled between the photo and the remains of the backing, two little black and white photos were revealed. One was of two little girls hugging each other with big bright smiles, almost like they were best friends. When he looked to the other one his heart sank as he saw her smiling face there, holding whom he could only assume was Dean while sitting next to another women holding a little baby girl. He turned the back to read the worn scribbling, “Mary. Dean. Y/M/N. Y/N.”
Sam just sat there on the floor staring at the picture trying to figure out how in the world it was even possible for him to be looking at what he was looking at. He had lost all concept of time when he heard the front door open. Y/N and Dean walking in looking rather displeased and angry.
“Time to go Sammy,” Dean stated loudly while Y/N looked to the mess in front of him.
“What…” she started to ask but Sam held up the two photos for her reach. Her eyes quickly began to welt after she looked back and forth between them before speaking up again. “That’s my mom, where did you get these?”
“They fell out from behind the picture when I accidently knocked it over,” Sam stated while getting up.
“What’s the big deal about a couple of pictures,” Dean rolled his eyes, still not seeing what they have seen.
“Because you jackass, you two are together in one of them,” Sam explained while Y/N handed Dean the photos. Sam watched closely as he saw his brother’s mouth slowly drop while also trying to clench his jaw to hold back any feelings bubbling up. Pictures of them with their mom when they were babies were a rare commodity. Although Dean had had more years with her, he had thought now that only one remained.
“Why is there a picture of us and our mom’s together?” Dean bellowed to Y/N.
“I don’t know, but I think you know where some of the answers could be,” she sighed before picking up her grandfather’s scribbled photograph of the bunker’s scenery off of the floor from amongst the glass. “We have to go home.”
Keep reading part 11 here
Tags: @jaylarkson @waywardbaby @snffbeebee @iamabeautifulperson18 @19agbrown @midnightsilver @wildefire @hobby27 @sonotalice
#theresnoplacelikehome#dean x reader#dean winchester#sam winchester#dean x sam x reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#spn s13#fanfic#spn fanfic
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In the empty Cas stood up against it and didnt want the infinite peace, no regrets, no pain" but then why was he do into Jacks paradise of a world without suffering or pain?? I dont get it. And will Cas want that again cause we know he wont remember the empty do that means he'll default back to this tunnel vision about establishing paradise? And do you think its significant that Cas didnt mention Jack in the empty?
If you think Cas wasn’t remotely affected by Jack and he just showed him some neat stuff about the future, in a friendly way, then you could interpret it that it’s just a step of failure and making terrible decisions in a moment of despair before obviously standing up (literally) for himself in the Empty and deciding to NOT choose the easy path of defeat or whatever promises of peace he’s given.
If you think Jack(’s powers) showed Cas the vision with the intent of hooking a guardian angel to protect him without particularly checking Cas’s feelings on the matter, it was for the same reasons Cas needed to fight back against such a promise that he then did in the empty, but at a slight remove that by exploiting a desire for peace and someone to tell him what to do that made sense, Jack(’s powers) made Cas help him.
Either way it represents in 12x19 how Cas was FEELING that Jack wanted him as a guardian angel and his powers showed Cas the thing that would make him feel better, probably in a way less violent way than the Empty did but it was essentially the same promise for Cas - and people have been paralleling what the Empty promised to what Amara promised Dean if he let her consume her (and that Dean also resisted in a metaphorical throwing off his desire to give into the darkness aka depression and despair moment). Cas was extremely emotionally vulnerable and at the end of his tether really in 12x19 and Jack intervened to give him faith and a purpose, which was honestly terrifying to see Cas seeming to know what he wanted and where he was going :P
But obviously that wasn’t a good thing - like I’ve been saying about Sam trying to help Jack, he WOULD empathise and care for Jack and want to raise him right if Mary hadn’t died, but that happened so we have problems. I think Cas honestly could have cared for Kelly and the unborn Jack in different circumstances and he was already dithering - Kelly abducted him basically moments from him being taken back to the Bunker where Sam and Dean may have argued him around - she removes him from his friends who could have helped him. So he got dragged into all that, and it was in the worst circumstances - Cas literally made that big speech about who would protect Jack and keep him on the righteous path, not seeing that he might actually be a good fit for it, but of course his uncertainty in himself because of all those failures and so on didn’t help.
I mean at the very least I think Jack gave him some certainty about what he was doing, even if it was just a sort of emotional exchange. Because I don’t think Cas was controlled after that, just really really determined and certain all of a sudden he had to protect Jack, and all his fears about him and fears about his own abilities were gone and he went into full expectant Dadstiel mode by the time we caught up with them. Which is kinda fishy when you know Cas has been in SUCH a bad place right up until that point. You can’t just make him happy and certain in what he’s doing without the character development, you know? :P
Anyway the stuff in the Empty was the character development.
I kinda figure if Cas is not meant to remember what happened between 12x23 and now according to what Misha said, then that development is something that will re-apply itself more slowly and hopefully through actual interactions and exchanges with the Winchesters, who the Empty’s beating on Cas made very clear he needs to feel wanted, not needed. And who knows, maybe personal stuff with Dean to that effect too. I think what we’ve seen so far is for our benefit, and showing Cas at a turning point. But one he still had to come to even in the Empty, like he had to seriously fight back and earn the moment he stood up to what is basically the dark mirror to his depression and probably the words in his head when he feels doubt about his actions or where he belongs or if Dean could ever love him like he loves Dean or whatever. All the usual nonsense :P
Where he goes from there, regarding how he feels about Jack, and if he still is motivated one way or the other, or is going to be thrust into new nonsense before he ever gets home, or who knows what, we just can’t know yet so I don’t think we can say with certainty anything about how Cas will act. I feel like he’s going to take a while to catch back up to what he did in the Empty unless he’s quickly forced to remember it, but if there’s no wider Empty plot immediately, we CAN take the scenes as being all we need to know, and something that Cas CAN forget but we don’t and can apply it to his character arc afterwards, because I think he has to feel out again, in the real world where there are consequences and other people involved in all this, all his feelings he confronted in the Empty.
I think Cas didn’t mention Jack in the Empty because he has no actual relationship with the REAL Jack, the one we’re getting to know, and his interactions have been with Jack’s powers. Whether you think it’s good bad or neutral what happened to Cas, Jack’s sense of self took the first half of 13x01 to boot up and he didn’t really start to figure himself out until he was talking to Sam, at which point he clarified he and his powers are in a weird relationship, so I trust him to not really remember or to be accountable for what happened when he was in the womb. Even if what he did to Cas was entirely benign, it was still his powers acting on his behalf that even made first contact with Cas and all Cas knew of him before he died.
Cas pretty quickly got dragged into the conversation with the Empty and it was so much about Cas and his inner emotional life as we knew it up to 12x19 in the long long arc about belonging and family and so on (that starts basically with his return in 7x17, and really kicks off in season 8) that he didn’t really have time to get into the details of how he died and what for. Sam and Dean mean way more to him and he’d have no way of knowing Jack was born adult, so he won’t think Jack is consciously doing anything for him.
(I mean, ironically, Jack possibly has no idea he woke Cas up in the first place :P)
It was way more about Cas saving himself, though. If he thought Jack had been what woke him up, it wouldn’t have had the same impact of him feeling like he’d been saved and not knowing why but since here he was, conscious and awake, he was going to fight to the bitter end to stay awake, and to argue himself back to life. He had to do that for himself and so not focusing on WHY he was awake was a good move to keep the focus on Cas and how he was feeling. And to drag out any more comments on him and Jack for when it’s relevant to them…
Like a few others on this subject, I feel like the show will remain fairly vague about what happened. So far its explanations have been vague enough that even though I think it makes a lot of sense, I guess you have no clue and others feel it’s satisfied their own different interpretations as well. With Cas back I sort of feel like the show can use new drama to blast past needing to harp on the old stuff as it always does, and what’s been happening to Jack since he was born creates enough for Cas to deal with without going over last season’s stuff :P
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metaphor I want to get high, Higher than any sky, Above the clouds And look down With lament On what I have left behind I want to smoke some trees While on my knees Praying, Saying things That will transmute My left behind reality Into a snickering type of affair I want to dance With the nebulas And black holes That flutter in my psyche Offering my soul sideways To the lateral realities That sparkle In the dark night I want to hold the moons of Jupiter All of them, In the palm of my left hand And let fate Run its course . . . For of course, the course Of the ‘right’ Has failed us. Which way to Andromeda I asked the beetle, And the butterfly answered, Spouting some nonsense About a reverse metamorphosis I smiled, And crawled through That tunnel Where darkness Was yet unborn I want to become the rain And melt into my tears And cleanse all that is With what truly ‘Is’ My God, Do I want too much ? I want to write new rules For metaphors And similes And create “Stories, Fables and Quaint little Tales’ That are real In this realm Of my existence I want to read the stories and accounts One thousand years hence Of how we conquered That which looms Over our heads Stealing our hope And burdening our children, All of them With the world We left behind I want to win, Within, And without, And banish fear and doubt For all time I want our lives to rhyme With all that is wonder filled And awesome . . . And some day . . . A 20-20 vision © 9 january 2020 : william s. peters, sr. www.iamjustbill.com https://www.instagram.com/p/B7KGjggnhow/?igshid=1iqxuy75as87k
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An Upright Citizen - Adoribull
So a few days ago, maybe weeks, I had a thought that inspired some really adorable additions and a lovely strip by nisuma. You can find the post and some of the comments here. <3
I hope it lives up to the awesome art. XD
-
Focus is a dangerous thing.
It permits innovation, progress, the birth of something real and wholly unique at the hands of all manner of people. But it does so through a certain ignorance: tunnel vision.
Which is how Dorian has managed to find himself coming down from a stroke of genius perched atop a lampione like a fashion-forward pigeon.
“I suppose I can just…” He turns a bit, attempting to slink along the support, but his boot slips on the metal and he aborts the thought with a short burst of hysterical laughter and a tightened grip.
Has the ground always looked so painful?
Getting down on his own is right out.
A quick check of his phone tells him that his battery died during his latest creative binge, and he left his mobile charger at the apartment. So, no calling in the cavalry.
But he is not going to sit at the top of a bloody street light and yowl for help like a helpless cat.
-
The Iron Bull is generally a pretty laid back guy, which is probably why he’s wandering around the streets in the middle of a cold snap in a tank top playing Bubble Witch Saga 3.
The cold doesn’t bother him much.
Not a lot does.
Except for whatever it is that ends up bouncing off his forehead and rolling along the pavement. He frowns down at what looks like a lens cap as it wobbles to a stop before looking up at...well, he isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at.
But he grins anyway.
“Hey, there.” He says, as if he hasn’t just been beaned in the head by a treed ‘vint. “You need somethin’?”
“A hand, if you please. I seem to be in a bit of a predicament.”
“Right.” Bull takes another look at the ‘vint, the street light, and the lens cap on the ground before going ahead and picking the cap up. “You mind me asking how you got up there?”
The man blinks down at him, apparently startled that he would ask.
“I mean why, not—geez.”
“I wanted to get a proper photo of the sunset, and the angle must have seemed ideal at the time. Now I’m rather pressed to remember why. I hate heights.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you certainly make a pretty picture.” Bull grins.
More blinking. “Excuse me?”
“You’re attractive. I mean you’re attractive.”
“Maker’s sake, yes, I—can we discuss this after you’ve got me down, please?”
“I’m guessing you tried the whole sliding down thing?”
“Tried. I’m not…” The man shifts uncomfortably.
“It’s all right. Hey, my name’s The Iron Bull. What’s yours?”
“Dorian Pavus.”
“Right. Dorian. I’m going to get you down. There might be some pointing and laughing, but it will end with your feet on the pavement.”
-
Krem is 94.7% sure that this is going to turn out to be another one of Bull’s crappy joke setups, but anything elaborate enough to require his truck and a ladder has to be worth checking out.
He’s just hoping nobody’s naked, honestly.
But when he turns down the street toward the intersection Bull directed him to, he’s too dumbstruck to do much but pull to the side and put on the hazards.
“What the hell, chief?” He rasps, climbing from the cab to get a better look at what is, in fact, a ‘vint stuck up a pole.
“I told you on the phone!” Bull says. Like this is all perfectly reasonable and beyond further question. The ‘vint in question actually gives him a nervous little finger waggle before grasping tightly to the pole again.
“What the fuck? I thought it was some kind of sick metaphor.”
“What can you come up with needs a truck and a ladder to fix?”
“How can a truck and a ladder fix this?” Krem waves carelessly at Bull’s new friend, who goes suddenly still.
“Wait.” Says the pole-’vint. “Wait, no.”
It takes him seconds to realize exactly what Bull is planning with this particular setup, and he can’t say he’d be eager to go for it either, in the other man’s position.
There’s no way to stabilize the ladder in the truck bed well enough to guarantee it won’t all come tumbling down underneath him.
“I would rather shimmy back down the pole than attempt this acrobatic nonsense, thank you.” The man huffs, but doesn’t move an inch to follow through.
“Okay.” Bull motions to the ground at the base of the pole. “Do it.”
“I...it…”
“We’re waiting.”
“I’m moving.” He shifts awkwardly, eying the pavement again before his eyes clamp shut. “I’m not moving.”
“Okay, look. I can stand under the ladder to keep it stable. Krem can hold on at the bottom. I promise we’re both real strong guys, okay?”
There are a few moments of quiet, and the car behind Krem’s takes this golden opportunity to honk their horn. It seems to startle the stuck man into action, because he inches a bit further down his perch and nods. “Right. Right, please.”
“That’s a brave guy.” Bull grins, and shoos Krem up onto the bed to begin extending the ladder. They get it stabilized pretty quickly, and Bull makes a show of propping it up before giving the go-ahead.
The man is clearly shaken as he mounts up at the top and makes an uncomfortable squeaking noise when Krem has to shift his weight at the base for a better hold. He pauses at the sight of Bull’s horns just by his hands and does something that Krem can’t see, but which obviously pleases the pants off the qunari.
“‘Attaboy!” He beams, and Krem rolls his eyes.
Once he’s finally down in the bed of the truck, Krem opens his mouth to make some smart remark, but that’s just when the car behind his honks again, and before Bull or Krem get a chance to do anything, the man hops right off and marches toward the offender, a firm, “See here!” on his lips.
“Wow.” Bull says. “Wow, Krem. He’s really something, isn’t he?”
“He’s a whole lot of things.” Krem snorts. “And I’m about to regret all of ‘em, aren’t I?”
“Maybe.” Bull sighs, and Krem gives up. They have to go pull Bull’s Future Husband off of an increasingly regretful businessman in a truly ugly tie.
-
Over a great big cup of cocoa heaped with marshmallows and just a dusting of cinnamon, Bull finally gets to see the picture Dorian scaled the lamppost for.
He thumbs the lens cap that he still hasn’t handed over, and Dorian rolls his eyes at him, but Bull can see him blush.
“Worth it.” He says.
Dorian has a bit of whipped cream in his mustache, and later Bull will get to lick it off.
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PROMISE ME NO PROMISES -- THE TOP 10 WORST HIT SONGS OF 2017
Let’s just get on with it. I’ll be less intricate and eloquent here – I’m just going to rip and tear into all these songs. Hello and welcome to...
THE TOP TEN WORST HIT SONGS OF 2017
I would give you dishonourable mentions but I feel there isn’t much here that is truly terrible enough to be noted other than the songs on the list so let’s just get straight into it!
#10
Have you ever hurt so much, physically or emotionally, that the only thing you can do is yell and yell, like a primal release of your...
PAIN!
#10 – Imagine Dragons – “Believer”
There are many, many elements in this song that mesh together like an insipid soup of gouged eyeballs, but on their own are more like slightly expired cheese strings – just that right balance of annoying, gross and still kind of okay, so much that you just don’t notice it if you don’t pay much attention. Let me tell you how about every single one of them:
1) What on earth is that percussion? This was supposed to be powerful but just sounds like the drummer fell asleep on his drum kit, with the bassist swirling his head around when needs be so he can hit the right drums.
2) The buzzing synth that is ever so subtle but ever so murderously annoying.
3) Dan Reynolds’ vocal inflections and singing – we’ll talk about those later.
4) The backing vocals sounding like wolves howling so weakly you’d think they’re in...
PAIN!
5) That.
6) The fact that Dan makes a weak attempt at rapping.
7) The lyrics making next to no sense and having next to no structure.
8) The whole point of the grating-as-all-hell chorus being so it can have that pause and dramatic drop for a movie trailer.
9) The fact that it’s still insanely catchy despite all these flaws.
10) And finally, the collision of all these intestine-munching parasites in the stomach-curling hell of a final chorus, with even more of those shrill additional vocals from the rest of the fantasy dragons that sound like a choir straight out of Robot Hell.
God, and this is only #10.
#9
This will be unpopular. Very unpopular.
#9 – SZA – “Love Galore” featuring Travis Scott
Let’s talk about how much of an autotuned non-prescience Travis Scott is. He sounds like he’s been drowned out entirely by his own waves of sing-rapping. Not to say SZA’s inflections and melody aren’t any more annoying. The “love” melody is, I swear, one of the worst melodies I’ve heard all year. SZA has a faux-Jamaican accent thing going on, which wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t so obnoxious. Those effects piled onto her vocals aren’t doing her any favours, either. The worst part of this song is not Travis and it’s not SZA. It’s the production. The minimalistic, boring production in the intro leads to a bass-boosted apple-picking session where the apples are filled with helium, the tree is shaking and I have a knife to my throat. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. I would put this in a tied entry higher on the list but I can’t deny the harmony later into the song and Travis’ adlibs are always a treat, honestly. Ya! I don’t know why, but I love them. You could say I low-oh-low-ah-oh-love them. I’m sorry, everyone who like this – and I know, there’s a lot of them – but I’m not a fan.
#8
[chuckling and snickering]
#8 – Drake – “Fake Love”
[bursts out laughing] This song is probably too hilarious to hate, but it’s so pathetic that I just had to put it on here. If you like subtly autotuned wailing leaping out of Drake’s confused, blurred mess of a vocal performance, over steel pans and trap percussion, you’re in luck.
Whole time, they wanna take my place / Whole time, they wanna take my place
That falsetto sounds like a whimpering child whose sandcastle just got stomped on. It’s somehow both cute and ear-shredding.
I’ve been down so long
You were never down; in fact, we’re damn near sick of you, Drake. You don’t sound like you were on any type of downer when you recorded this though. The sheer emotion in his vocals is clear, but they’re not very good at all. They just aren’t, and I can’t listen to this song without clocking a smile. When I’m sad, I put this song on. It’s that depressingly hilarious.
Fake people showing fake love to me / Straight up to my face
The lyrics to this are blunt but fragile, and are actually a beautiful set of lyrics that really capture Drake’s anger – are people showing him fake love? Probably not, but he’s so paranoid that they are. It’s a great set of lyrics, but Drake’s delivery is equivalent to a parrot who just got dumped and is feeling human emotions like grief, denial and sadness for the first time in its life. This could have easily been the same spot on my best list, so much that I had to go to random.org to decide if this should go on the best or worst list because this is simultaneously terrible and terrific. That Scary Hours EP is pretty cool though, you should check that out... or if you want a laugh, just open up Spotify and listen to “Fake Love”. Better luck next year, better luck next year, ‘cause I’m excited to start giving Drake love next year.
#7
I put two Maroon 5 songs on my best list. I suppose this is my punishment.
#7 – Maroon 5 – “Don’t Wanna Know” featuring Kendrick Lamar
Everyone’s already talked about this song, so I’m not going to beat a dead horse. I’m going to beat a pissy, mind-numbingly repetitive, vocally ear-splitting, blandly tropical, trend-hopping, Kendrick-wasting, badly-tasting, copy-and-pasting, dung-pile of a horse. Oh, wait, I kind of already did that just now. I’ll just leave with you with one of K-Dot’s most fitting lyrics – from this very song:
No more, please stop
#6
This isn’t a hit song; this is a godforsaken nursery rhyme.
#6 – blackbear – “do re mi” (remix) featuring Gucci Mane
The intro to this song is just a bunch of random noises. I’m not kidding, there’s a few synthesizer sounds, a pitched-up reverb-affected sample of blackbear singing the hook, blackbear’s very own ad-libs, some of which are pitched-down, and Gucci Mane yelling “Gucc’!” at the top of his lungs, which I’m surprised isn’t a meme. You know what else is meme-worthy? This dude’s falsetto.
Do re mi, fa, so f**king done with you
And this hook, these lyrics and that melody. Am I the only one who thinks it would somehow be more obnoxious and cringe-worthy if he said “freaking done with you” instead? No?
I think this song is just purely bitter, but not in a way I can relate to, just dark chocolate without flavour or texture. Fittingly, the instrumentation and production is some of the blandest trap-R&B I’ve ever heard. blackbear sounds like a robot for most of the verse until he breaks out as nonsensical child turned angry R&B sing-rapper who broke up with a supposed floozy. Honestly, Gucci Mane’s verse is pretty good but it has hardly any relation to the rest of the song so it’s almost a certainty that I’ll enjoy it, because this song is garbage. How in the hell did this trash make the year-end? I hope blackbear has another hit because frankly, I quite enjoy some of his music, and I don’t want this to be his only hit. Gucci Mane is still awesome though.
#5
There are two songs on this list with a Beyoncé remix, both of which I have credited as the original instead because I don’t want her to be on the list twice when she’s easily the best part of both songs by a landslide. You know why this next one’s on the list, so let’s not waste our time.
#5 – J Balvin and Willy Williams – “Mi Gente”
To describe this song, I have to ask you two questions, the first one being: Have you ever heard a goat or sheep blaring in a farm or zoo? This is what that screeching ear-piercing sample makes you think of – a herd of goats all angry, hungry and confused – which is taken from a song that samples that very sound as well, from another song. The second question is: have you ever heard a reggaeton song? Of course, you have, you’ve heard “Despacito”, haven’t you? Imagine them mixed together, but no, not mixed in a sleekly-designed modern building, collided in a messy derelict ramshackle of an apartment with sweat dripping down every single piece of dirty laundry, in which the sweat is coming from the rats inside the walls instead of the ghastly insane elderly woman who lives there with her ten cats, who is so moist and dry in old age she has lost the ability to sweat, cry or her favourite thing to do, spit on people. Hence, she’s criminally depressed and so am I after listening to this song, as it is so unbearable to the point where I’m flabbergasted at how this became a top 10 hit. Next!
#4
Wait a second... I don’t even know what “mi gente” means. Oh, it means “my people”? Talking about a group of people, here’s our first, last and only tie on the list, and it’s a doozy.
#4 – Yo Gotti - “Rake it Up” featuring Nicki Minaj / Lil Uzi Vert - “XO Tour Llif3”
These are completely different songs, but they both represent the oversaturation of trap in their sleep-inducing beats, stupid, scatterbrain lyrics that show off every single rap cliché possible (I’ll go into detail some other time in a bonus list after this one) and a whole dose of bad vocal performances, most notably Lil Uzi Vert’s autotuned whining in “XO Tour Llif3”. At least they’re the only God-awful trap songs to be hits this year.
#4 – Kodak Black – “Tunnel Vision”
Oh, yeah, the song about racial profiling that also includes a lyric about or at least implying a reference to your rape charges... I think I know why they want you locked up, mate. While you’re there, we should also give you some basic English education, because anyone who thinks “iggin’” is a perfectly usable word, and that “winning”, “listen” and “iggin’” rhyme with “penitentiary” should probably start re-thinking if the school they went to did the best job they could. Well, at least Rae Sremmurd didn’t have a hit this year.
#4 – Ayo & Teo – “Rolex” / Rae Sremmurd – “Swang”
Two—two of them? We have two of them now?!
Hop out, drop-top, f **k y’all talkin’, I need it right now, right now
What’s with the falsettos this year? Did everyone forget how to sing in a higher pitch properly?
#4 – ZAYN and Taylor Swift – “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever (Fifty Shades Forever)”
Oh, so, that’s a yes, then? How about we just give hits to people who can’t sing at all?
#4 – Julia Michaels – “Issues”
I have issues with this song, but again, it’d be beating a dead horse with a sack of coal. At least it’s a woman who can’t sing this time... Girl power, I guess?
#4 – Halsey – “Now or Never”
Well, at least she can sing, I suppose. It’s just that this song is all over the place, like a bed that’s way too...
#4 – Migos – “Slippery” featuring Gucci Mane
Sorry, Gucc’. I love you, man, I really do, but you associate yourself with some of the worst singers, some of the least interesting rappers, and sometimes...
Two b****es so fine that I masturbated
...some of the worst yet still very interesting lyrics.
Yes, those are all my picks for #4. They are all as equally lazy and incompetent as each other.
#3
Now let’s move onto one song that is somehow worse than every single song in the last spot combined, mostly due to the annoyance of every single possible sound effect the producers crammed into it.
#3 – Hailee Steinfeld and Grey – “Starving” featuring Zedd
I didn’t know that I was starving ‘til I tasted you
Okay, a bit of a weird metaphor, but it adds some sensuality to it all so it gives the relationship some lip-biting romance, so that’s a decent line.
Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo
Oh... never mind. Seriously, the concept of this line is okay on paper, but “the whole damn zoo” is so forced and downright nonsensical that it really takes me out of whatever sensuality, romance or even fun this line was supposed to be portraying. Butterflies aren’t even typically animals that are perceived as “zoo animals”; they’re found in zoos in those enclosures but that’s pretty much it. What were you going for here, five writers? Seriously, you had five writers, none of which are credited because of sampling or interpolation by the way, three of which being professional, two of which being Grey themselves, and none of those grown men and women could figure out any reason to why this line is incredibly corny, or have the gall to object it? Yes, most of this section has been about that lyric but what else is there to criticise other than that lyric and the drop, which is one of the weakest this year? I’ll pass.
#2
So what’s number #2? It can’t be as bad as that song.
#2 – Imagine Dragons – “Thunder”
...Then dishonourable mentions time it is!
Dishonourable Mentions
Ed Sheeran – “Shape of You”
This is in order of the Year-End and not my opinion because I just want to not talk about “Thunder” as easily and as long as I can. If the most popular song of the year is this terrible, it should be a bad sign, but 2017 is great, so I suppose there are exceptions.
Sam Hunt – “Body like a Back Road”
I’ve made a rule to never put country songs on any lists because I have a negative bias towards them; just never enjoyed the genre that much. Sorry.
James Arthur – “Say You Won’t Let Go”
Boring.
Kygo and Selena Gomez – “It Ain’t Me”
This drop just completely ruins the song.
Logic – “1-800-273-8255” featuring Alessia Cara and Khalid
Khalid saves this.
Who can relate? (whoo!)
Taylor Swift – “Look What You Made Me Do”
This has a really good pre-chorus. That’s about all my positives.
Machine Gun Kelly – “Bad Things” featuring Camila Cabello
“Havana” must have been a fluke.
Ariana Grande – “Side to Side” featuring Nicki Minaj
Wrist icicle, ride d**k bicycle / Come true, yo, get you this type of blow / If you wanna Minaj, I got a tricycle
D**k bicycle... okay, Nicki.
Shawn Mendes – “Mercy”
I suppose this has enough of a rock edge for me to forgive.
Some random teenage nobodies – “that Vine dance song (why do these still exist)”
Dead horse.
Katy Perry – “Chained to the Rhythm”
Are we tone-deaf?
Are you talking to the people who bought your album?
Jon Bellion – “All Time Low”
Out of all of their discography, I can’t believe “Jon Bellion” is the song that got big. “Weightless” is so much better.
Sam Smith – “Too Good at Goodbyes”
This is so perfect that it sickens me.
P!nk – “What About Us”
This is so non-descript that it sickens me.
Cheat Codes – “No Promises” featuring Demi Lovato
Whoever the guy is needs to input the singing codes. It’s D, O, O, R, left.
Shawn Mendes – “Treat You Better”
Ew.
Rita Ora – “Anywhere”
Oh, how I wish you crossed over.
The Chainsmokers – “Closer” featuring Halsey / Future – “Mask Off” / DJ Khaled – “I’m the One” featuring Justin Bieber, Quavo, Chance the Rapper and Lil Wayne
I’ve yet to decide if these songs are heaven-sent or hells spawn.
Now, let’s talk about the demon that is “Thunder”.
Thunder, feel the thunder
There are so many things about this song that make me want to shrivel up in the corner and rot. First of all, there’s the way-too-bouncy trap production for an otherwise triumphant song; it shouldn’t be this joyful and plucky. Those finger-snaps are so blatantly fake, and that synth sounds like literal yawning edited to sound like a chirping tone that just scratches the surface of unbearable. Dan Reynolds in general is an absolute plonker throughout the verses, with the vocal inflections of a Pez dispenser who just, for no reason, slides off into a spiral of autotuned murmuring in the first verse.
Just a young gun, with a quick fuse / I was uptight, wanna let loose / I was dreaming of bigger things / And wanna leave my whole life behind
The lyrics, by the way, are literally saying “I was into this band before you were cool”, which makes the second verse even more aggravating, especially due to the pitch-shifted vocal that appears on every single one of his terrible vocal inflections.
Kids were laughing in my classes / While I was scheming for the masses
Now I’m smiling from the stage while / You were clapping in the nosebleeds
The verses are terrible, but it’s not the worst part of this song, and neither is the next thing I’m going to bring up, but this is awful too.
You know how Kanye West manipulated samples so they’d sound kind of like a chipmunk? Well, Imagine Dragons do the same, however here, instead of a low-key soul-influenced hip hop track, it’s supposed to be a triumphant synth-pop victory lap, so this repetitious pitch-shifted nonsense is unfitting, unnecessary and unbearable. What are they repeating, you ask? The word “thunder”, which Dan does in the chorus as well. Hence, the word “thunder” is used approximately 78 times, excluding when only one syllable of the word is said (that happens a lot too). This song is just barely over three minutes, and there’s not many instrumental parts, apart from a certain section we’ll get to later. “Thunder” doesn’t have as much of an impact when it’s said nearly 80 times in your relatively short song, that was made for pop radio so of course it’s going to be played frequently.
There’s also that guitar solo... that pathetic wimpy guitar solo. There’s such a leap in hatred and lack of quality and redeemable moments from #3 to #2... what was #1? “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran? Well, I hate that song, but technically, it doesn’t count because it didn’t make the Year-End... screw it.
#10 – Cheat Codes – “No Promises” featuring Demi Lovato
Which means...
#1 – Imagine Dragons – “Thunder”
You happy, Dan? I’m officially jealous of you, like you wanted me to be. I’m envious of your success despite several attempts to make the radio play garbage – and not even the good kind like recyclable garbage or guilty-pleasure garbage, just plain, unadulterated crap worthy of no more attention. Congratu-freaking-lations. I’ll see you for the next episode of Reviewing the Charts or the next review or whatever, I don’t care. Goodbye. Hopefully next year is the same quality or even better than this year. So far it doesn’t seem to be even close.
Thun-thun-thunder, thunder.
#pop#pop music#worst song ever#worst hit songs#hit songs#2017#list season#worst songs#worst list#songs#imagine dragons#sza#travis scott#drake#maroon 5#kendrick lamar#blackbear#gucci mane#j balvin#willy william#yo gotti#nicki minaj#lil uzi#lil uzi vert#julia michaels#zayn malik#taylor swift#kodak black#ayo & teo#rae sremmurd
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