Also now I'm feeling really shit about not getting to anything for trans day of remembrance this year.

Some of you guy's leftism starts and ends with cis white gays and you worship anyone who even says the bare minimum that gays deserve rights. People will really just erase all the horrible shit anyone ever did and defend them tooth and nail from any criticism because they "like gays", and we as a (western) society enable them. I also often get the vibe from super big white proponents of LGBTQ/Queer folks of like "I love gays, isn't that enough?"

These only a couple examples but there's many.

There was a celebrity I used to appreciate for their nonchalance about the gay community(Took their kid to pride, talked positively about the community, told people to fuck off if they disagreed, etc), but it slowly became obvious to me that it was their thing. But I very quickly(Like, super, super quickly) saw that they literally throw that up all the time but are absolutely disgusting and lazy when it comes to any other issue. Also have had actively racist moments too later on. Like derailing BLM discussions.

This was actually a wake up call for me because I usually don't accept the bare minimum, I should have kept my guard up and not been surprised by this and that's on me.

Anyway I'm seeing people lick the arsehole of another celeb who died who was vindictive old fuck in about a hundred ways just because they at some point in their lives changed their mind about whether or not queer folk are demons or something and did some good stuff for gay people or something.

This is so insidious. Why is whether or not someone likes gay people the bar for so many of y'all? We have so many horribly racist/ableist/transphobic gay icons that no one is ever allowed to speak ill of because of "what they did for the queer community". When you likely mean cis white gay men (and maybe lesbians) and how it somehow absolves them of any other harm that they done or their harm is ignored and you can't speak ill of them or whatever and it's honestly sickening.

I'm not even talking about expecting celebrities to be on top of every single issue the moment they're brought up.

White women are especially guilty of loving on gays when it makes them look good. As I said similarly in my last post about being an accessory to (mostly) white women. But you know what? I don't care if you "love gay people." Do you care about trans people? Do you care about queer poc? Do you care about women and children? I don't mean in a "Publicly react to every issue in the news" way, I mean on the most basic level.

Do you love us when we're not "fun" cis white men running around half naked at Pride trying to get married and adopted babies and be a "Nuclear family"? I mean when we're killing ourselves in masse because we're afraid of the world and are raised to hate ourselves, convinced that we're somehow broken and can never be fixed or accepted and in some cases that even gd doesn't want us and we're cursed to burn in hell? When our intersex sibling's genitals are mutilated at birth and being forced to conform to a fake box or we're getting murdered in the streets and thrown out by parents and landlords? Do you love my siblings who are Black and brown and/or who use pronouns/labels you don't understand? Do you like us when we're all that, and you can't bank on "helping" us?

Is your love intersectional or just for the bits that benefit you?

Do you love Black masc gay men?

Hell,

Do you love lesbians who aren't big masc butches with short hair?

He/him and they/them lesbians?

Trans women?

Trans lesbians of color who don't "look feminine"?

Jewish and Muslim queers?

Christian queers who don't fit into your "fuck religion" narrative?

Yes, aros and aces are queer.

I don't care if you "love gay people" and I wont lick your boots if you do the bare minimum. If you're a shitty person I'm gonna talk about how you're a shitty person even after you die no amount of love for white cishet gays will save you and if you have a problem with me talking about someone who "loves gays" being actively harmful to other groups of people then you need to take a long look at yourself, that's not my problem. Exclus and clowns get blocked on sight.

Since I’m just as obsessed with yarn craft (making it and dyeing it and using it) as I am with fandom, I just feel that y’all should know, in every modern AU I make where Lan Wangji has bunnies, they’re all angora and he raises them for not only being precious, but also he steals their wool. I’m making an AU where it’s a 3zun sorta fic (they all technically live separately with their houses next to each other in a triangle and knocked down their fences so they would have one massive garden) and LWJ was obsessed with bunnies when he was little but Lan Xichen really liked to knit so he was all ‘hey, let’s get angora rabbits’ and now Lan Qiren spins their fiber into yarn and when LWJ is like 9, Wei Wuxian shows up cause the Jiang’s bought the lakehouse across the street from them and so now they show up for holidays and school breaks and LWJ got an instant crush on him and crocheted him a beanie because WWX has never seen snow before (y’all this bitch out here while it’s snowing in shorts and a tee shirt LWJ is afraid he’s gonna DIE) and WWX falls in love instantly and it’s cute. Also WWX is trans. And Meng Yao raises Mo Xuanyu and later on Rusong (not his kid, Qin Su showed up saying she couldn’t handle getting rid of it but she couldn’t keep it either so MY was all ‘okay, I’ll take it’ and that’s that) and later on after WWX gives birth to A-Yuan (yeah I went there, deal with it, it was an accident tho, WWX is told he should get rid of it cause he’s too young for being pregnant but he’s all ‘nope, going through with it, then I’m getting those parts removed’ cause oooof) LXC suddenly gets surprise custody of their little cousin 6month old Lan Jingyi and he’s all ‘Ahh shit’ and so there’s like. So many toddlers running around the garden at all times. Jin Zixuan meets Jiang Yanli when he’s visiting one day and she’s over having tea with LXC while they watch the kids roll around like a bunch of idiots in the garden and it’s cute. They like each other. Jiang Cheng gets sick when he’s around sixteen and ends up getting an organ transplant (or maybe bone marrow? I was looking up transplant stuff but apparently if you get a donated kidney you’re only expected to live another 20 years at most before you need another transplant??? IF you can get another??? And liver would be much more rare I guess for a 16 year old. But if he had some sort of cancer or a disease involving bone marrow transplant as a treatment, it could work) and WWX is the one that gives the transplant. Why??? Because you need some angst in somewhere and tbh I kinda want 16 year olds JC and WWX to spend a while in the lakehouse doing homeschooling (with LWJ because LQR homeschools him cause of his fear of crowds and Jiang Fengmian was all ‘hey, can you just... teach them for a year?? They’re too tired to cause much trouble anyways and they can’t go to school and hanging out with LWJ night cheer them up) and Nie Huaisang takes that as permission to get homeschooled for a year (Nie Mingjue originally refused him because he was a little shit and wouldn’t stop bothering him when he didn’t have people to chat with all day but now he’ll have JC and WWX to chat with) and now LQR is stuck with them all for a year before JC and WWX go back to their hometown school. It’s long enough for LWJ and WWX to start a budding romance and for JC to realize that he thinks relationships are nasty and kissing is gross. Actually, they probably just stay there till they’re all graduated because why the heck not. Yanli is dating JZX and uses that as an excuse to visit him often (well, she’s also spoiling baby bro’s, but if she can get some flirting in while it’s happening, why not) and YZY and JFM tend to travel a lot so they don’t see an issue with them all staying there while they can. It’s been helpful to WWX cause there’s still some issues with bullying back in their hometown (and in a town where not everyone sees him as the ‘weird tomboy girl who thinks she’s a boy’ here, he gets into less fights) and this has been really helpful.

I wanted to make the worlds longest paragraph ever but tumblr said no. So anyways. JC is still in recovery for a while so it’s best at the Lakehouse instead of a city, and he can chill out on the porch in the warmer months and get cozy inside next to the fireplace with a million blankets and hot cocoa when it’s cold out. He’s. So. Cozy. Also JFM got him a service cat because WWX still can’t be near dogs. He wishes his bro could get a dog and feels bad about it, but tbh they keep forgetting that for all JC would like a dog, he’s basically a slut for any cute animal ever. He hangs out in the 3zun garden across the street a lot. NHS has like 15 birds and NMJ has like four cats (who are Not allowed in the atrium lol) and LWJ has all those rabbits and MY has like a million kids and those are basically wild animals so they count. (Seriously tho family members keep dropping kids off with 3zun and not coming back for them but??? It’s okay??? Cause they’re all ‘single’ -not living together- gay men and so none of them can get on an adoption list for shit anyways. Lol so many kiddos running around.) LQR is ready to murder WWX by the time the kiddos all graduate and he’s all ‘oh thank god now I don’t have to see him all the time’ but then WWX shows up at the house one day (him and LWJ have been dating for like a year and a half now) and he’s all ‘hey. I’m. Pregnant.’ And LQR is all ‘...ahhhh shit now I gotta deal with him even more’ and it’s. Amazing.

WWX pretty much moves in with them after that (WWX is all ‘we can get an apartment or something’ and 3zun is all ‘sure, okay’ but then always find a way to distract them cause they’re all ‘yeah, we like our space’ but then they’re all ‘if a single sibling/child of ours moves out we’ll get instant empty-nest syndrome and die’ and so they’re like. Really possessive over their kiddos. LQR is mostly there cause he’s the only adult that bothered to stay in LXC and LWJ’s lives when they were growing up and he’s great.

A year after A-Yuan is born, they get Lan Jingyi (he gets dropped off with LXC and just never picked up again wild) and then Jin Ling is born (and he gets dropped on Meng Yao a lot cause JZX has watched him with kids before and knows his brother genuinely loves babies) and then Qin Su (their half sibling) shows up one day all ‘hey, so, I’m pregnant and I’m not keeping it but it’s too late to get rid of, you like kids, you want one?’ And MY is all ‘...yes...’ and she stays with them till little Rusong is born and then heads off to live her life and MY gets the joy of taking care of an infant that he hasn’t gotten to experience since MXY was little which was like 13 years ago. Lol MXY isn’t all that enthused with his new baby bro but Baba says he’ll get less ugly when he’s older and stops looking like a potato. MXY does NOT agree that he once looked like a potato himself, how dare you, Baba!

They have a greenhouse and LXC is definitely growing pot in it.

Backstory Bullshit

Hi. I don’t know what I’m doing. This is just random important things about Author and Host, thank you for your time. (Author is referred to as Alaric, Host as Quill!) 

Also if you’re expecting coherency from me, don’t. This is just to get my thoughts down. 

Also a trigger warning for rape mention and eating disorder mentions, as well as a minor gore thing. None of these go into detail, but I feel like it’s important to mention nonetheless. 

-Basic Info for starters: 5′5″, trans man, autistic. Alaric is Pan, Quill is Demi Bi. 

-Two older brothers, one older sister. Older Brothers are the Jim Twins (this information was something Quill blocked out for a good amount of time) the older sister is currently unknown and not something Quill (nor Alaric) is looking for. 

-Parents? Nah. Why don’t we kill those, thanks Alaric, thank you for your time. 

-Kind of disappeared. There is a reason that Alaric didn’t know that the Jims were his brothers, and it’s because Alaric sought to completely distance himself from everyone. 

-Thought he was human. Was wrong 

-No real first experience with realizing that he’s got powers. It was mostly a slow build up of Alaric writing random things in various places and having them end up becoming true before Alaric realize ‘oh shit. huh. I’ve got magic.’ and then just kind of went from there 

-Murders sometimes, just for fun. Alaric doesn’t really get hands on all that often, the only people he did that for were parental units, and then focused on writing, cause he thought it was neat to see what he could do to them without ever laying a finger on them. 

-That was true up until he was raped and then Alaric took a bat to the man’s skull and never looked back. 

-Thus begins Alaric’s philosophy of “Trauma? What trauma? I’m not traumatized.” 

-Alaric is very much traumatized. 

-Becomes very hyper sexual as a result, but kind of hates himself for it. 

-Also tends to kill the people he has sex with. Just. Just for fun. Y’know. Not because of a trauma response-

-Also begins to self destruct a bit, in many many ways. 

-Doesn’t eat as much as he should, which is just it at first, and then eventually just. stops eating 90% of the time. Keeps himself alive through writings in a personal notebook he has, just for shit like this. 

-Starts getting into dark magic, and then black magic, trying to find the source of his powers, so he can get more. Does not take any precautions. 

-Power hungry, vaguely blood thirsty. 

-Finally, the whole, ‘not taking precautions when doing black magic’ thing kind of backfires. Badly. 

-Admittedly, Quill doesn’t know what happened in the few hours that are missing from his memory. There are a few things he does remember: Alaric’s afraid, panicked. The room is on fire, the entire cabin is on fire, the fire is in his head, and he has to get it out. 

-Alaric tears his own eyes out with his bare hands. This is not a clean job, there are scratch marks all around Quill’s eye sockets because of this. 

-The Person In Between, since this person is no longer quite Alaric, but not yet Quill, wanders off. Wanders back to the others, namely Dark and Dr. Iplier, is a dramatic motherfucker and grins at them, waves, and then passes out. 

-Wakes up, still not quite Quill, not def not Alaric anymore. There’s something to take care of first. 

-The library was Alaric’s domain, and it will be Quill’s. But first, certain remnants of Alaric are placed aside, in their own little room, away from everyone, hopefully to be forgotten about, and then the person between locks part of the memory away. 

-Quill is tired, of course, and honestly hates himself. Not because he is Alaric, but because he was. Just because part of those memories were locked away doesn’t mean all of them were. 

-Takes some time, Quill meets Malik, which is something that helps drag Quill out of his brain 

-Quill relearns to use first person in order to properly say ‘I love you’ to Mal. 

-Finally, starts settling into who he is now, which has turned from a violent angry scared, frankly broken man, into this. Still sorta broken, still scared, but more tired. Avoids violence if he can, but isn’t afraid to use it if he must. 

-And then Quill finds the room. 

-Now, the person between did this on purpose. Like a time bomb in the back of Quill’s head, waiting until he was calmer, had dealt with some of what he remembered (which was enough to know Author was violent and scared, but some of the reasons were not there) before opening the rest. 

-To be completely honest? Quill broke a little bit. Forced people around him to pretend not seeing him for days was normal, kept himself tucked up in that extra little room and remembered 

-Flipped his shit. 

-It wasn’t ALL about the fact that there were three siblings he didn’t remember, but that was what he focused on 

-This was around the time that people realized. Oh shit. Quill hasn’t been around in awhile. 

-Mal flipped his shit as well, to a lesser extent 

-Quill went off and attempted necromancy. Failed, because his siblings weren’t dead, and brought back someone else, because Alaric had a bad tendency of burying victims around the cabin (which yes, is basically a burnt out shell now)

-Quill ended up killing the guy for a second time, and had a panic attack until Dark came and took him home, since Quill couldn’t exactly communicate where the cabin was to Mal (who was not told for various reasons) and Dark knew where it was. 

-Spent a few days in an exhausted stupor. 

-Then decided to burn everything in that room (after going through it all). It was very cleansing. Quill has an attachment to fire in some ways, now that I think about it. 

-After that, the Jim Twins were like ‘alright. How do we tell our brother he’s our brother when he thinks we’re dead’ 

-They managed it, however, and Quill has brothers now 

-Mal proposed (after telling Quill an important part of his backstory) with a necklace with one of Mal’s feathers on it. 

And that’s. generally, in order. the story. Here’s some random bullshit info that isn’t important to that but is for me 

-Neither of them like shoes (sensory reasons). Alaric went barefoot everywhere, just cause, but Quill wears fun socks that he steals from Mal. 

-Quill’s coat is one of the most important things to him in this world. Very good sensory thing. 

-Alaric had a German Shepherd dog, which he didn’t... completely take care of, kind of let it be feral. 

-Quill now has the menagerie. This started with just Echo and Brair, the two cats, the first of which is a Turkish Angora, and the latter of which is a grey Sphinx. Not exactly in order, it has expanded to include Fate, a German Shepherd, Nagini, an albino ball python, and Noodle, a brown ferret. There are plans for more, but that’s it for now. 

Part Three: A Light At The End Of The Tunnel. (The Great Escapist S08E21)

Episode Summary: When Sam, Dean and the reader receive a distressing video message from Kevin Tran, they set about trying to uncover the third trial. The boys and the reader make a discovery that sends them to a casino in Colorado, to find a mysterious recluse who may be able to fill in the holes in Kevin’s research. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,923.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

It took you a second to figure out what was going on; you were staring down the barrel of a loaded rifle, that was being held by who you could only guess was the angel you had been searching for. Part of you was taken back to see who was standing on the other side of the weapon with his finger on the trigger. Angels were arrogant creatures who thought they were high and mighty, involved themselves in your business when they thought it would benefit them. And always loved to put on a show with their abilities to prove how powerful they were compared to a couple of measly humans. Metatron didn’t fit the bill. Hell, he took you off guard for how you found him. Hiding away in a hotel surrounded by what you could only guess was thousands of books as his only company and a rifle and his weapon of choice against you.

While you knew the person holding the weapon still pointed at yourself and the boys, the angel didn’t seem to recognize the three faces you guessed every one of his brothers and sisters knew by now. Not only because of the things you had done over the years and the few you killed, you had a bad reputation among them that didn’t leave a warm greeting. Dean found the person he was staring at not who he was expecting, in how all of this was going down. You furrowed your brow slightly as you continued to stare at the face of who Metatron had picked as his vessel. Something about him seemed oddly familiar. But you couldn’t put you finger on why. 

“Metatron? This is Metatron?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask. “This is Metatron?”

“Sit down.” You quickly looked over your shoulder when you heard Metatron’s voice from behind you, suddenly standing with the rifle to your back. Knowing you weren’t in the position to try and talk your way out of this one, you slowly backed yourself up until you felt the back of your legs hit what felt to be a chair. You eased yourself down while the boys chose a spot on a table cluttered with even more books. “Who sent you?”

You weren’t exactly caught what the angel had said, you winced slightly when you noticed the ringing in your ears had come back. Even louder than before. You clutched part of your head to try and cope with the pain. “We came on our own. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You had to shout in order to just hear yourself talking that sounded like a muffled noise to you. “These are the Winchesters.”

“I’m Dean.” The oldest Winchester introduced himself first and then his brother to save you the trouble. “And this is Sam.” 

“You work for Michael?” Metatron asked all of you. You furrowed your brow even tighter as you struggled to figure out what exactly he was trying to say, attempting to read his lips as you saw him shift the gun toward your direction. “Or Lucifer?”

“What, you really haven’t heard of us?” You shouted your own question back at him, smiling to yourself. “What kind of angel are you? All of your kind hate me. And not to mention—these are the freaking Winchesters.”

“Michael and Lucifer—those dudes are in the deep fryer.” Dean answered the angel.

“Yeah. We put them there ourselves.” You added on, still shouting to hear yourself talk over the ringing in your ears that felt like it was growing louder with each passing moment. 

“What about Gabriel and Raphael?” Metraon asked about more of his fellow brothers. 

“Dead.” You responded back. 

“You really don’t know all of this?” Sam asked the angel, finding it all rather strange. 

Metatron shook his head, “I’ve been very careful.” 

“Hey, can you—can you turn that down?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask for a favor from the angel, hoping he might be able to do something about the ringing in your ears you couldn’t handle anymore. 

“Turn what dow—oh.” Metatron wondered for a second what exactly what you were talking about, until he figured out exactly why you were acting so strange. He lowered the rifle so it was next to his side. “You’re resonating.”

“Resonating?” Dean repeated the word he heard the angel speak, not liking the sound of it. “What do you mean, resonating?”

“You've undertaken the trials. You're trying to pull one of the great levers, aren't you?” Metatron asked you, ignoring the older Winchester’s concern. He sounded curious and even the slightest bit intrigued. You guessed for someone of your nature. And the condition you were in might have raised a brow here and there. You nodded your head. “You're pretty far along, too. You get that far along, you start resonating with the Word. Or with its source on the material plane. With me.”

“You said you were being careful.” Sam spoke up, going back to what the angel had mentioned earlier. “Careful how?”

“I’m not one of them. I’m not an archangel. I’m really more run-of-the-mill. I worked in the secretarial pool before God chose me to take down the word. Anyway, he seemed very worried about his work, what would happen to it when he left, so he had me write down instructions.  Then he was gone.” Metatron told you about how he landed himself being God’s personal writer. 

He grabbed a chair and took a seat across from the three of you. You shifted slightly in your seat when you noticed he nonchalantly wheeled around the rifle without much thought, almost forgetting that it was fully loaded. “After that, the archangels took over. They cried, and they wailed. They wanted their father back. I mean, we all did. But then they started to scheme. The archangels decided if they couldn’t have Dad, they’d take over the universe themselves. But they couldn’t do anything that big without the word of God. So I began to realize that maybe they would realize...they needed me.”

“So, you got a ruffle in your feathers and you just decide to disappear, go stick your head in the sand forever?” Dean asked the angel, wanting to make sure what he just heard was correct. Metatron nodded his head ever so slowly. “You have no idea what’s been going on out there?”

“Nope.” Metatron said, shaking his head. And looking rather happy with his ignorance about the world around him. Something about the expression on his face rubbed you the wrong way. It started to make you angry about his blissful ignorance. “That’s the whole point.” 

“So you have been held up here or in a wigwam, or before that, in some cave, listening to stories, reading books?” Dean asked the angel. 

“And it was something to watch. What you brought to His earth—all the mayhem, the murder, just the raw, wild invention of God’s naked apes—it was mind-blowing. But really, really...it was your storytelling. That is the true flower of free will, at least as you’ve mastered it so far.” The angel got back up to his feet while he discussed his only true love of what humanity created. As  if you couldn’t tell from the books surrounding the place. “When you create stories, you become Gods of tiny, intricate dimensions unto themselves. So many worlds. I have read as much as it’s possible for an angel to read, and I haven’t caught up.”

"You know what?" You waited a second before speaking up after hearing what Metatron had to say. He was your final hope for figuring out the last trial and shutting the gates of hell. But it turned out he was like the rest of his siblings. You were tired of having people more powerful than you stand back and get their own way. You were putting your foot down. Even if it meant you had to say a few things you didn’t want to. "Pull the trigger."

“What?” Metatron was confused at the words that just came out of your mouth. 

“Pull the freaking trigger…” You slowly pushed yourself up to your feet and began walking over to him, ignoring the boys’ attempt at trying to get you to sit back down before you got yourself hurt. You doubt this angel had it in him to hurt you and your unborn child. He wouldn’t. Because he didn’t have the guts to get his hands dirty. “You cowardly piece of garbage.” 

“Hey—” Dean tried his hardest to sit back down before you could do something stupid, but there was no way he was going to get you to back off. 

“All the time you’ve been hiding here, how much suffering have you read over? These books that you love so much—it’s not all just fiction. Where do you think people come up with these ideas? Why do you think we write in the first place? So we can hide from our suffering. Make worlds better than our own. Humanity’s been suffering for so long. How much of it has been at the hands of your kind?!” You knew you were letting your emotions get the best of you, but you didn’t care. You roughly grabbed the barrel of the gun and pointed it at your chest. You smirked to yourself at the look on his face at the move he wasn’t expecting from you. “I bet you probably look at me like I’m a speck on humanity. A monster created by Lucifer. I agree with you. But you know what I see when I look at you? A coward.”

You let the insult sink deep into his mind, wanting to show him how you viewed him. How much damage he was inflicting on the creatures he only loved for one thing. “You have so much power to do good...and yet you choose to sit here in your safe little world. Reading fictional stories of people that aren’t real when there are billions of stories out there! Stories rich with things writers could only dream about capturing into words. And I bet you would love it. But that would mean sticking your head out and having to face the mess your siblings made.” You mocked him for the choices he made, wanting to show him just the slightest amount of frustration you were feeling at the moment. “At least I’m doing something to make sure my child has a better life than mine. I’m sure you’re familiar with my story. But you know what story I want you to hear? It’s about a kid named Kevin Tran.” 

“He was a good, straight-A kid, and then he got sucked into all of this angel crap and became a prophet of the word of God—your prophet.” Dean continued on with the story about the kid who was thrown into this lifestyle without a choice. Who lost his mother and his own life, despite all of your attempts to make sure his was safe. While the angel in front of you did nothing but kick up his feet up with a book and continued to ignore the world around him. “And you should have been looking out for him, but no! Instead, you’re here, holed up, reading books.”

“He’s dead now because of you.” You said. You let the news sink in, watching as his face slowly began to fall at hearing the life of a prophet translating his work caused his own life. It was all of your faults for the choices you made, Metatron’s as well. While he sat on his ass reading his books and pretending the real world didn’t exist, the life of a was taken.  “Did any of your books teach you about guilt? About the feeling of someone’s blood on your own hands?”

Metatron was your last hope at trying to figure out the third trial and closing the gates of hell. You thought making him realize the damage he was inflicting and how much good he could give to the world might change his mind. All you wanted was the third trial. But he offered you so much more. He offered you a chance at getting back the kid who helped you in the first place, Kevin. It seemed his story never ended, someone just wanted to make an unexpected appearance. You knew Crowley was behind this all along, but you were stupid to think he would have killed his favorite prophet. The details didn't matter to you. All you cared about was the kid sitting in the chair you had been in just a few minutes ago. 

You felt a sigh of relief finally escape from you at the sight of Kevin back in your sight. Metatron used some of his angelic powers to get the kid out from Crowley's grasp before he could really end up dead. He was in worse shape from the last time you saw him, but the bruises on his body slowly faded away when the angel placed a hand on the kid's chest and healed him from the inside out. 

“Is that it?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask, wondering if things were going to finally be okay for once. “Is he good?”

“Give him a minute.” Metatron said. 

You and Sam decided to keep an eye out for any sort of progress on Kevin and greet him when he finally came back around. Metatron stepped away and headed to the kitchen area, Dean followed behind a few seconds after, having a few questions of his own. He lingered in the doorway, watching as the angel grabbed himself a cup. 

“How did you get past Crowley’s angel warding?” Dean curiously asked. 

“I’m the scribe of God.” Metatron answered with a shrug. “I erased it.” 

“But you saw, right? I mean you’re caught up on everything that’s been going on, all the crap that your brethren’s been doing to humanity all of this time?” The older Winchester wondered, hoping all the gaps and messes made over the years were 

“I saved the boy, didn’t I?” Metatron answered the hunter’s question with another.

“But are you in? With us, I mean.” Dean asked the angel straight out. Angels didn’t do things for them out of the kindness of their own cold stone hearts. It always came with a price. However it seemed on the surface Metatron was different from his siblings. He didn’t want anything from them and he didn’t need help getting something. He just wanted an answer to his question. 

“Y/N really intends on closing the doors of hell?” Metatron wondered for himself. 

“It’s not my first choice, but things didn’t work out the way I wanted. She feels like it’s her...duty. After everything she was put through by them, she wants to make sure no more evil comes out of that place.” Dean said. He turned his head and spotted you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest, staring intently at the prophet and waiting for any kind of sign he was going to wake up. His eyes slowly drifted to the bump that stuck out like a sore thumb. The reason why you were doing this in the first place. “Seems like the thing to do, don’t it?”

“Character redemption arc. Do good in order to wash away the evil created. It’s her choice, taking on this journey. Especially in the condition she’s in. And that’s what this has all been about—the choices your kind makes.” Metatron said. Dean turned his head to look back at the angel to head what he was saying. “But you're gonna have to weigh that choice. Ask yourself, 'What is it going to take to do this,' and 'What will the world be like after it's done?'" 

Dean wondered for a second what the angel might have meant by those words, before he could ask any questions to dig further, his attention was pulled away by the sound of Sam’s voice coming from the other room. He headed over to see what the fuss was about. A smile began to creep at the ends of his lips at the sight of Kevin slowly coming back around to consciousness. For a while Dean thought the kid was long gone. He felt a sense of relief come over him at the sight of him back in his sight, safe and okay. 

“Kevin? Hey.” Dean placed a hand on the chair and leaned down just enough to get a better view on the kid, watching as he slowly began to come back around, smiling at him. The older man let out a chuckle. “We thought we lost you, kiddo.” 

“I’m good.” Kevin reassured all of you. He pulled something out from his button up, an object that had been a pain in the ass for months now. You felt your lips stretch wider at the sight of the demon tablet. “Second half of the tablet, and I got it. Third trial. I didn’t tell Crowley.”

“So what is it?” You asked, eager to hear the very last step you had to do.

“To cure a demon.” 

You looked over to see Metatron had given you the final step in closing the gates of hell. He stood on the other side of the room, his attention on the prophet he saved from the clutches of Crowley. “Yeah.” Kevin agreed. He looked over at the stranger and gave him a confused look, wondering for a second what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”

+ + +

For the first time in forever, you felt like you were seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You had been spending these last few months struggling with the idea that all of this was happening. But it was. And the truth was approaching you faster than you could process. You were on your final step to closing the gates of hell. And you were going to have a real family in just a little over three months. A little baby who wasn't ever going to know about the monsters that haunted you all of your entire life. Hell, there was going to be future generations of children and their families who weren't going to fall into the same routine like the Winchester’s. All of this wasn't a fantasy you told yourself. It was actually happening. 

Before you came on the trip you were feeling run down and not like yourself, there was no way of denying that from how the trials were taking a toll on your body. You didn't exactly picture this was how your pregnancy was going to go. However now that you knew what the third trial was, you could figure it out and get it done. After that, you could finally let out a breather and get back to your life. Well, it was a hopeful thought. You still remembered the warnings Cas had given you about how the trials were taking a toll on your body, there was a part of you that knew it was all going to be okay. Like you said to yourself earlier when you were remembering all those things, you had to suffer before you could get better. You needed to get...clean. 

“Cure a demon? Okay, ignoring the fact that I have no idea what that means, if we do this, does that mean you’ll get better, right?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your concentration and brought your gaze up forward. He was happy about the lead all of you had, but there was still an angle of uncertainty about what all of you were walking into. “I mean, you’ll stop trying to cough up a lung and bumping into furniture?”

“I feel better, if I’m being honest, just having a direction to move in.” You told the boys.

“Well, good,” Dean felt a little bit of relief at hearing your second wind coming through for the things you were about to be up against. “‘cause where we’re headed doesn’t sound like a picnic.”  

“I could say that about something else.” You joked to yourself. You placed a hand on your bump and smiled softly. "I don't care what I have to do. We're heading somewhere. The end.” 

Curing a demon felt like something odd to say for a hunter. All though you knew a way to make one of those black eyed monsters was to send them to hell and twist their soul until it was dark as night, you knew there were other ways to do so. You softly bit the inside of your cheek and wondered to yourself about what this meant. You knew your father was a human who was turned into a demon...that was somehow turned into a human again. You thought back to what Abbadon had said to you when you first met her. 

“Let’s just say I gave him a punishment that fit the crime. Your daddy wasn’t a very nice man.” You were still trying to figure out what that meant. He was a Men of Letters just like the boys’ grandfather, working on some big special project nobody knew about. Whatever it was, hell didn’t like it. And they wanted to make him one of them. Part of you wondered if he was the key to stopping all of this. 

You were torn out from your thoughts when you felt the Impala suddenly coming to a  screeching stop when Dean slammed his foot on the break. You quickly placed a hand on the front seat and steadied yourself while Dean attempted to swerve away from the person lying in the middle of the road. When the car was stopped and in park, you looked forward to see it was a familiar face you hadn't seen in weeks. You felt a rush of panic come over you as you got out of the car as fast as you could at the sight of a familiar face, bloody and beaten from what you could tell from the Impala’s headlights in the darkness of the night. 

“Cas?!” You called out the angel’s name 

You hadn’t seen him in weeks after he took the angel tablet and ran for the hills. Not a single call or peep had come out from him. You were worried about him, and it seemed the worst had happened to him. You studied his bloody and battered face from the pavement as you stood next to the backseat door, keeping a cautious distance from the angel. He had been messed with by other angels, and while he was supposedly free, it wasn’t the first time Cas had ran off and did things for his own agenda and not caring about his friends. But it seemed you had your old Cas back. 

“A little help here?”

You and the boys shared an uneasy look about what was happening all of a sudden. You shrugged your shoulders, staying back while the boys went over to help the angel back up to his feet. You were overjoyed to see Cas again. But there was another part of you that was angry. Betrayed at how he vanished into thin air. You had so much going on right now. You didn’t have time to deal with whatever crap he landed himself in. You were so close to getting what you wanted, there was nothing standing in your way of closing the gates of hell and shutting away the very thing that has haunted you. 

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @albot-e // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings

Message me if you would like to be added!

Because the decade is ending I’ve been revisiting old interests and past fandoms from when I was a teen, and boy is it a trip down Memory Lane.

Listening to old Vocaloid songs from when I was in high school back in 2010, when I was 15 and new to internet culture, and it was one of the first Japanese culture I ever discovered. Apparently Vocaloids are still a thing? I knew Miku was still popular bc I’d seen stuff in the past year featuring her, but apparently the other Vocaloid characters are too, and there’ve been a whole bunch of new ones introduced in the past decade? I remember when the whole Daughter of Evil saga was being created. I remember all the alt characters people created by taking the main vocaloids and pitch-altering their voice banks. The Vocaloid community was fresh and thriving back then. That was back when Gender-Bending was a staple of fandom culture, and making male “versions” of female characters and vice versa was hugely popular. This was when “Caramelldansen” and “Ievan Polkka” weren’t Classic Memes, this was when they were new, and all the rage.

I remember the Gamecube days, back in the 2000s, and watching my stepbrothers battle my sisters interchangeably on it or the old Nintento 64 they had, in Mario Kart, or Mortal Kombat, or the original Smash Brothers (I, who had terrible hand-eye coordination, wasn’t fit for playing, but was more content to passively enjoy anyway). I remember when the Wii was first introduced (my mother didn’t believe in video games for a long time, and only bought a console for the family about four years later). I remember the GameBoy, I remember the release of the first XBox. I remember the online dress-up doll games. I remember when the Lego Star Wars video game was first released, and being an avid fanatic of those famous bricks as a kid enjoyed watching my siblings play that probably more than than anything else.

I remember how huge the cosplay scene was in the early 2010s, for all kinds of shows. I remember reading Emma: A Victorian Romance by Kaoru Mori with glee as a teen, siting in a bean bag chair in the Teen Area of my local library, because they had a dedicated manga section and had the entire print run. That was back before Borders was bought out by Barnes & Noble and ceased to be, and I’d often sit in the second-floor manga section of my local Borders and read the volumes that caught my eye for a half-hour or more, and the store clerks didn’t care because it was a different world then, a different culture, and I was always a polite, well-behaved kid anyway who always physically respected the books. Apparently the anime adaptation of Mori’s Emma from years ago finally got an English dub in the past year? I’m going to have to track it down and give it a watch.

I remember loving the Romeo x Juliet anime as a teen, that crazy and brilliantly original high-fantasy reimagining of the classic play. I loved that the English dub script was mostly in Elizabethan-era English. I remember Ouran Host Club and Baccano! too, and the first of those being one of the funniest things I’d ever seen in my life at the time. Same with The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. I remember liking Fruits Basket back in 1010, and only realizing years later how fucked up it actually was. I remember Baccano! and Nabari No Ou. I also remember some other shows whose names don’t bear repeating. I remember downloading their OSTs off dedicated websites that no longer exist. I still have these soundtracks in my iTunes library. I remember when burning playlists onto CDs was popular; they finally became obsolete and passé sometime in my high school years, after the rise of mp3 players and programs like iTunes crystallized the superiority of the .mp3, and then people would laugh when I mentioned my own burned CD collection.

I remember when Over the Garden Wall first came out, in 2014, and how groundbreaking it was at the time in terms of what an animated show could be, visually and plot-wise. That show still has a small bud dedicated fandom it seems. I remember the character ask-blogs that were so popular from 2014--16 on tumblr, both ones with drawn replies and ones with live cosplay photos or gifs. God, the ask-blog community was so huge at the time. That might have been the height of tumblr’s popularity, the mid-2010s. I remember DeviantART and the thriving fanart community it had before tumblr took over in the early 2010s. I remember all OCs people were making, and the ask-accounts before ask-blogs were a thing. I remember the roleplay groups. I remember all the fucked-up things people were into back then because the Scene Phase had come but not yet entirely gone, and because teens were emo little shits in general. I remember when anime pairings were written as “[name] x [name]” in full before people started mashing names together around 2014, I remember when words like y*oi and y*ri were the norm. Oh how times have changed. (And thank god they’ve changed)

I remember when the Twilight movies were being made and my high school health teacher put the first movie on in class one day and had the class point out different ways in with the romance was toxic and unhealthy. It’s mind-boggling that in 2019, after The Discourse had come, burned, raged, and gone, that people are still stupid enough to like those films. Even back then I was smart enough to see them for the creepy, badly-written dreck that they were. I remember when The Hunger Games was published (I never read it). I remember the first Hunger Games Movie coming out and the controversy surrounding Jennifer Lawrence being cast as the lead. I remember coming into school one day to find two of my teachers casually debating it (I never saw the movies, and didn’t particularly care about that conversation).

I remember watching an independent showing of Studio Ghibli’s From Up on Poppy Hill in 2015 at a local indie theater, and the audience roaring with laughter when one of the boys at the old club house asked “How can we make archaeology cool again?!” and another replying “We can’t!”, and then a woman in the audience said out loud “Archaeology is cool!”

I remember the birth, life and death of Vine, and despite The Discourse raging on tumblr at the time, the humor on that app was still largely Mainstream and often racist.

I remember Teen Wolf, and Glee, Sherlock and Supernatural and Doctor Who. I remember the emergence of “Superwholock” and the sheer insufferableness of the fandom before they eventually, blessedly died out. I remember the disappearance of shows like J*njou R*omantica and the rise of shows like Free! and Yuri on Ice!!!, Modern “woke” animes that still featured vapid, cliché-driven writing, with Modern “woke” audiences that were puerile-minded and cliché-hungry as ever, the same y*oi fangirls as those that had existed in the early 2010s, only now the shows had done away with the nasty R*pe-As-Romance and replaced it with cringey, ham-fisted pretenses of Realistic Psychology or Social Conscience. And I realized that anime fans my age weren’t worth their salt, and by that time I was too old for anime anyway so I finally dropped it. New animes have come and gone, new live action shows have come and gone, and all the same terrible fandom drama that has burned year after year regardless of show still burns. Same shit, different sewer.

I remember how different online culture was for teens a decade ago. I remember how different real life was for teens a decade ago. Everything has changed so much in the past decade. Teens were children when I was teen. Now, ten years later, teens are like miniature adults, thinking and speaking maturely, socially and politically conscious, wise beyond their years. Racism is acknowledged for the evil it is, and bigoted trolls are no longer socially accepted. When I was a teen, been an edgelord was in, and kids like me who were unusually conscientious were labeled Babies and Oversensitive whenever something didn’t sit right and we voiced objections. Anons telling people to kill themselves was routine. People were violent and ruthless online, and the culture was truly reminiscent of The Lord of The Flies, a cutthroat free-for-all among girls and boys of all ages.

But not anymore: as people keep saying these days, being an Asshole is Out, being Kind is In. Shit like H*zbin H*tel, that would’ve been immensely popular ten years ago, is acknowledged for the violent, vile crap it is. And the language around sexuality and gender has changed so drastically, and has opened up so much. There was no trans content a decade ago in fandom, and Gender-bending, when done to explore the social ramifications of a character as the “opposite gender” (because nothing outside the gender binary existed as far as fandom was then concerned), and not just for titillation, was always cisgendered and done by way of Alternate Universes.

I had a miserable experience as a teen, and I wish that I could have experienced this kind of environment in my formative years rather than the one I did. But although I never did, I am so happy for the teens of today, that they are able to experience this kind of social openness, that they can experience this kind of unity and conscientiousness that exists in a way it never did before. That, even with as bleak and awful as the world is, they are fighting to make it better for themselves. Because it really was them that changed it.

Because, as much as Millennials like to pretend otherwise, we didn’t make the internet culture what it is today, We were edgy shitlord brats who loved laughably bad media, whether it was edgy and featured protagonists who murdered for fun, or maudlin and featured Mary Sue protagonists. We had flame wars over who was “uke or seme” for characters that weren’t even gay. We were nasty piss-stains, and even the teens like me who were better than the rest still had our awful moments. I’ve done and said things as a teen that I’m ashamed of, and no amount of nostalgia can change the fact that fandom and the media it consumed was objectively awful a decade ago. And though “Fandom Moms” and other nasty, disgusting, overgrown-children may be a proud bastion and defenders of the Old Ways, reminiscing about their LiveJournal Days and telling themselves their age is somehow indicative of wisdom rather than how creepy and pathetic they really are, their days are numbered, and I can’t wait to see their +30yo asses slowly die out in the face of progress.

Lilly Wachowski coming out in a statement to press of her choice after having her and her sister’s entire livelihoods threatened by the media.

This is her statement, I’ll provide a link to the article.

“

‘SEX CHANGE SHOCKER—WACHOWSKI BROTHERS NOW SISTERS!!!’

There's the headline I've been waiting for this past year. Up until now with dread and/or eye rolling exasperation. The "news" has almost come out a couple of times. Each was preceded by an ominous email from my agent—reporters have been asking for statements regarding the "Andy Wachowski gender transition" story they were about to publish. In response to this threatened public outing against my will, I had a prepared a statement that was one part piss, one part vinegar and 12 parts gasoline.

It had a lot of politically relevant insights regarding the dangers of outing trans people, and the statistical horrors of transgender suicide and murder rates. Not to mention a slightly sarcastic wrap-up that "revealed" my father had injected praying mantis blood into his paternal ball-sac before conceiving each of his children to produce a brood of super women, hellbent on female domination. Okay, mega sarcastic.

But it didn't happen. The editors of these publications didn't print a story that was only salacious in substance and could possibly have a potentially fatal effect. And being the optimist that I am, I was happy to chalk it up to progress.

Then last night while getting ready to go out for dinner my doorbell rang. Standing on my front porch was a man I did not recognize.

"This might be a little awkward," he said in an English accent.

I remember sighing.

Sometimes it's really tough work to be an optimist.

He proceeded to explain he was a journalist from the Daily Mail, which was the largest news service in the UK and was most definitely not a tabloid. And that I really had to sit down with him tomorrow or the next day or next week so that I could have my picture taken and tell my story which was so inspirational! And that I really didn't want to have someone from the National Enquirer following me around, did I? BTW—The Daily Mail is so definitely not a tabloid.

My sister Lana and I have largely avoided the press. I find talking about my art frustratingly tedious and talking about myself a wholly mortifying experience. I knew at some point I would have to come out publicly. You know, when you're living as an out transgender person it's … kind of difficult to hide. I just wanted—needed some time to get my head right, to feel comfortable.

But apparently I don't get to decide this.

After he had given me his card, and I closed the door it began to dawn on me where I had heard of the Daily Mail. It was the "news" organization that had played a huge part in the national public outing of Lucy Meadows, an elementary school teacher and trans woman in the UK. An editorial in the "not-a-tabloid" demonized her as a damaging influence on the children's delicate innocence and summarized "he's not only trapped in the wrong body, he's in the wrong job." The reason I knew about her wasn't because she was transgender it was because three months after the Daily Mail article came out, Lucy committed suicide.

And now here they were, at my front door, almost as if to say—

"There's another one! Let's drag 'em out in the open so we can all have a look!"

Being transgender is not easy. We live in a majority-enforced gender binary world. This means when you're transgender you have to face the hard reality of living the rest of your life in a world that is openly hostile to you.

I am one of the lucky ones. Having the support of my family and the means to afford doctors and therapists has given me the chance to actually survive this process. Transgender people without support, means and privilege do not have this luxury. And many do not survive. In 2015, the transgender murder rate hit an all-time high in this country. A horrifying disproportionate number of the victims were trans women of color. These are only the recorded homicides so, since trans people do not all fit in the tidy gender binary statistics of murder rates, it means the actual numbers are higher.

And though we have come a long way since Silence of the Lambs, we continue to be demonized and vilified in the media where attack ads portray us as potential predators to keep us from even using the goddamn bathroom. The so-called bathroom bills that are popping up all over this country do not keep children safe, they force trans people into using bathrooms where they can be beaten and or murdered. We are not predators, we are prey.

So yeah, I'm transgender.

And yeah, I've transitioned.

I'm out to my friends and family. Most people at work know too. Everyone is cool with it. Yes, thanks to my fabulous sister they've done it before, but also because they're fantastic people. Without the love and support of my wife and friends and family I would not be where I am today.

But these words, "transgender" and "transitioned" are hard for me because they both have lost their complexity in their assimilation into the mainstream. There is a lack of nuance of time and space. To be transgender is something largely understood as existing within the dogmatic terminus of male or female. And to "transition" imparts a sense of immediacy, a before and after from one terminus to another. But the reality, my reality is that I've been transitioning and will continue to transition all of my life, through the infinite that exists between male and female as it does in the infinite between the binary of zero and one. We need to elevate the dialogue beyond the simplicity of binary. Binary is a false idol.

Now, gender theory and queer theory hurt my tiny brain. The combinations of words, like freeform jazz, clang disjointed and discordant in my ears. I long for understanding of queer and gender theory but it's a struggle as is the struggle for understanding of my own identity. I have a quote in my office though by Jose Muñoz given to me by a good friend. I stare at it in contemplation sometimes trying to decipher its meaning but the last sentence resonates:

‘Queerness is essentially about the rejection of a here and now and an insistence on potentiality for another world.’

So I will continue to be an optimist adding my shoulder to the Sisyphean struggle of progress and in my very being, be an example of the potentiality of another world.”

Lilly Wachowski

http://www.windycitymediagroup.com/m/APPredirect.php?AID=54509

In case you didn’t know, the Wachowski siblings are the extremely artistic writers and directors behind such films as The Matrix, V for Vendetta, and Cloud Atlas. Once rumors of their true gender identity were clawed out by the vulture media they were slowly but surely forced out of their own lives. The last time mass media, and certainly America, had either of the sisters in mind was when the press was dragging both of them through the mud. Making jokes for the whole world to laugh at, at the expense Lilly and Lana Wachowski.

With all the LGBTQ alphabet soup positivity that’s supposedly shoved down our throats now, all the ‘movements’ that make people think anything is going to be different, it’s pretty fucking sad how little has changed in all of history for trans women.