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fandomtrashhh · 1 year

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Updated for Episode 12

So I did a thing. I went back to every episode of The Winchesters and I wrote down everything that Dean has said so far, and I realized moreso than before how EVERYTHING he says not only is the lesson/theme of the episode, but it all also applies to himself. Also, I'm not sure if other people realize this because not everyone is into classic rock as I am, (many of the songs are rock songs) but all the songs also match what the episodes are about. Let's start with episode 1.

Sorry if I overlooked something or for any mistakes, I did not rewatch every episode to make this.

I also apologize for how long this is. If I knew how to add the "read more" on this post I totally would.

Major spoilers for all episodes of the Winchesters ahead!!!

Episode 1, "Pilot": March 3rd, 1972. The day Dad came home from the war, and the day he met Mom. Now I know this story might sound familiar, but I'm gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you. And in order to do that, I have to start all the way at the beginning.

Obviously, Dean is just starting the story. He tells us this is when John and Mary are going to meet, and he's also foreshadowing what's to come. This is why I have high hopes for this show, because Dean says so in the beginning that even though you think you might know everything, there's really more to the story.

Dean also narrated at the very end of the episode:

What they didn't know is that the Akrida weren't just a threat to Earth, but to all of existence. Now, like I told you, there's gonna be some surprises. Hell, I'm still trying to find all the puzzle pieces myself. But I'll explain everything. And until then, I'll keep picking the music.

Also something to note is that this is the only episode that has a non music related title. I'm 100% sure that if it did have a song related title, it would be "I'd Love to Change the World" by Ten Years After. The beginning, when Dean is first narrating and while John is holding the letter that Dean gave him and pretty much up to the point where John and Mary run into each other, that song is playing. Then at the very end of the episode, when we see Dean in the flesh, it's playing again. I find this VERY interesting, especially since the music applies to everything in this show. This leads me to believe that Dean really is trying to change something because the song literally says "I'd love to change the world, but I don't know what to do, so I'll leave it up to you." (The song also mentions bees, which I thought was interesting. That could be nothing, though.)

Episode 2 "Teach Your Children Well": The ties that bind a family together can be complicated. Parents raise you, teach you what's right and wrong, and in some instances, how to kill monsters. But no matter who you are, there comes a time when you have to break from them and make your own way. And if you're not careful, things can get pretty ugly.

“Teach Your Children Well” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Let me show you some of the lyrics:

“You, who are on the road

Must have a code that you can live by

And so, become yourself

Because the past is just a goodbye

Teach your children well

Their father's hell did slowly go by

And feed them on your dreams

The one they pick's the one you'll know by

Don't you ever ask them, "Why?"

If they told you, you would cry

So just look at them and sigh

And know they love you”

A big theme in this episode is parents, the guy who goes missing at the beginning for one, but mostly about John’s parents. John and Millie argue over John hunting and all around the episode is about kids forging their own paths and how it can cause issues which I feel like can definitely apply to Dean and how he discovers his identity away from his father and how the things his father put them through were wrong and how that caused issues.

Episode 3 "You’re Lost Little Girl": There's no map to being a hunter. No playbook. You gotta follow your gut. But that can only take you so far. Truth is, you can't do it all on your own. You need other people to help guide the way-- your friends, your family. Otherwise you just end up lost.

“You’re Lost Little Girl” is by The Doors. Some lyrics:

“You're lost little girl

You're lost little girl

You're lost, tell me who

Are you?

Think that you know what to do

Impossible? Yes, but it's true

I think that you know what to do

Yeah

Sure that you know what to do”

In this episode, Mary gets taken by a monster and everyone is trying to find her. Mary thinks that she doesn’t need anyone to help her because she’s a good hunter, but she ends up needing them to save her. It’s the same with Dean, Dean is an amazing hunter, but he still needs his friends and his family.

Episode 4, "Masters of War": Fighting the battle between good and evil isn't easy, especially when the first monster you have to face is the one inside yourself.

“Masters of War” is by Bob Dylan.

The lyrics for this song are very meaningful and well done. To put it simply, it’s about war and criticism of war.

“You fasten all the triggers

For the others to fire

Then you sit back and watch

When the death count gets higher

You hide in your mansion

While the young people's blood

Flows out of their bodies

And is buried in the mud”

In this episode, John and Carlos talk about their trauma from the Vietnam War and we really get an insight to how much anger John has in him. John is Dean’s parallel in this episode because Dean has a lot of unresolved trauma and deep rooted anger that is mentioned in Supernatural and it also fits because Dean was used as a weapon in a war against the supernatural from a young age.

Episode 5, "Legacy of a Mind": Spending a lifetime of hunting monsters takes its toll. There comes a time when you gotta let out that pain inside you. If you don't, it'll eat you alive.

The song “Legacy of a Mind” is by The Moody Blues

“He'll fly his astral plane

Takes you trips around the bay

Brings you back the same day”

This can be applied to what happens in this episode where Mary is stuck in her own head and has to face her trauma, and this song pretty much talks about trippy things like the lyrics above.

This applies so well to the episode because this episode deals with the complicated relationship that Mary has with her parents and her dealing with the trauma she has with being trained to be a hunter from a very young age and how it was wrong of them to do that to her, but she still loves her parents. This also applies to Dean, since John taught him about hunting from a young age, the same way Samuel and Deanna did to Mary. Mary is once again the Dean parallel, like she often is in this show.

Episode 6 "Art of Dying": Hunting has a way of changing a person. After a while, right, wrong, good, evil, they all start to look the same. And then it makes you start to wonder, "Who's really the monster here -- them or me?"

This is the only other episode where Dean narrated at the end:

Hunting's not for everyone. You have to be strong, stay sharp, make tough decisions, and it's not easy, but then again, the righteous things never are.

The Art of Dying is by George Harrison:

"There'll come a time when all of us must leave here

Then nothing sister Mary can do

Will keep me here with you

As nothing in this life that I've been trying

Could equal or surpass the art of dying

Do you believe me?"

and then the end of the song goes:

"There'll come a time when most of us return here

Brought back by our desire to be

A perfect entity

Living through a million years of crying

Until you've realized the art of dying

Do you believe me?"

This episode the core four finds a case involving an older hunter buddy of Mary's and it turns out that the monster is the ghost of the hunter's friend who the hunter friend and her group killed because he went too dark in magic. That's how the episode applies to Dean's monologue, along with Lata's fear of turning into someone horrible and letting her anger control her. John also (kinda) confronts his anger in this episode. The monologue also talks about how being a hunter is hard, but doing the right thing never is, which also applies to the characters of this episode, especially Lata. This applies to Dean because he really dealt with feelings like that during SPN, and being angry all the time and feeling like he was a monster, and how he always chooses to do the right thing when it comes down to saving the world, even when it's near impossible to.

Episode 7 "Reflections": There comes a time in every hunt when the fightin' starts. And the difference between winning and losing isn't whether you have the holy water, the wooden stake, or the silver bullet. It's whether you've got the grit to get the job done.

Reflections is by the Supremes:

"Through the mirror of my mind

Through all these tears that I'm crying

Reflects a hurt I can't control

Although you're gone

I keep holding on

To those happy times

Oh, girl when you were mine

As I peer through the windows

Of lost time

Keeping looking over my yesterdays

And all the love I gave all in vain

(All the love) All the love

That I've wasted

(All the tears) All the tears

That I've tasted

All in vain

Through the hollow of my tears

I see a dream that's lost

From the hurt baby

That you have caused"

I think this one represents loss, especially the loss of Henry. Dean's monologue ties into this because in this episode there are multiple instances where the characters show real strength and bravery in order to come out the other side with a win. And this can obviously be applied to Dean and everything he has done and hunted and how brave he had to be to be able to actually get the job done.

Episode 8, "Hang on to Your Life”: Being a hunter, it means living a life of sacrifice-- not a lot of room for dreams. But if you open your heart and get a little lucky, you'll find you gain more than you lose.

Hang On To Your Life is by Guess Who:

“Thinking 'bout it's here and it's real

Wondering how I really should feel

Well you can sell your soul

But don't you sell it too cheap

Hang on to your life, oh life, oh life, oh life, oh life

Hang on to your life

Thinking 'bout betraying a friend

Thinking 'bout delaying the end

Well you can ride the wind

But don't you ride it too high”

This episode is about Carlos’ dream of being a musician and how he had to give that up when he became a hunter. The parts about selling his soul and betraying a friend applies to the band member that Carlos used to play with and how he accidentally made a deal and because he “betrayed” Carlos by selling him out to Loki.

Dean’s monologue applies to the theme of found family in this episode. Even though they’re all a part of this life and had to give up their dreams, there is good that came from it in the form of family and friends, the same way that Dean found himself a family in the midst of it all. This is also the episode where John and Mary decided to get together, again proving that they can find something worthwhile, right before they found the picture of Dean. (Insert Miranda Cosgrove meme)

Episode 9 "Cast Your Fate to the Wind": This isn't how I saw things going when I pushed over that first domino. Thing is, I've had more than a few dances with free will and fate, but as my dad used to say, "Fate is what you make it."

The song here is actually a song that I didn’t know. It’s a jazz song by Vince Guaraldi. Honestly, reading the lyrics to this song make me think SO MUCH of John and who he becomes, and I’m actually going to put in the entire lyrics because I can’t chose one section that I feel is most important:

“A month of nights, a year of days

Octobers drifting into Mays

I set my sail when the tide comes in

And I just cast my fate to the wind

I shift my course along the breeze

Won't sail up wind on memories

The empty sky is my best friend

And I just cast my fate to the wind

That time has a way of changing a man throughout the years

And now I’m rearranging my life through all my tears

Alone, alone, alone

There never was, there couldn't be

A place in time for men like me

Who'd drink the dark and laugh at day

And let their wildest dreams blow away

That time has a way of changing a man throughout the years

And now I’m rearranging my life through all my tears

Alone, alone, alone

So now I’m old, I’m wise, I’m smart

I’m just a man with half a heart

I wonder how it might have been

Had I not cast my fate to the wind

To the wind, to the wind”

Like, come on. This is so John coded in who he becomes and what happens to him. In terms of how this song applies to the episode though, it applies to the theme of fate throughout the episode, which ties in with what Dean says at the beginning. “Fate is what you make it.” This speaks true to John in this episode because he uses the knowledge of his death to his advantage and makes his own fate, which Millie uses the “fate is what you make it” line. I find this episode very interesting because they use the theme of fate in an episode that deals with vampires, and has a whole scene that parallels 15x18 AND Carlos gets to kiss his male love interest. Dean’s monologue at the beginning applies to himself because he’s dealt with fate and free will plenty of times in Supernatural.

I also find it interesting that Dean said that this isn't how he saw things going when he pushed over that first domino, which begs the question of what did he expect? What was his goal in doing all of this? It's also worth noting that immediately after he says that he says "fate is what you make it," saying the two apply to each other, go hand in hand. I don't think it's a stretch to say that whatever his intentions were, whatever he did, had to do with controlling his own fate.

So, just to recap: in an episode where the two main characters are dealing with being in a new relationship and whether or not they want to tell people, one of those main characters dies from a vampire in a direct parallel to the 15x18 confession, and two men have an on screen kiss for the first time, and the entire theme of the episode is fate. That's VERY interesting to me.

Episode 10 "Suspicious Minds": Hunting and happy endings don't usually mix, so when you get your chance, you got to ask yourself, "How far will I go to get it?"

This can be read as a direct tie in to his monologue in the last episode! It's along the same lines!!

Something I've noticed is that each episode I feel like the monologues get deeper and more meaningful, the farther we go the more is revealed.

This Dean monologue ends right as John and Mary get interrupted while they're kissing and Mary says "normal will have to wait another day" while there's a close up of Mary's college application as a mirror to SPN 15x20 with Dean's job application. Something I thought was interesting.

Suspicious Minds is an Elvis Presley song, which I know that the trend here is to include 60's and 70's songs, but knowing the intense meaning of Elvis in the Destiel fandom makes me feel a little unwell knowing Elvis actually gets incorporated into the text.

"Oh, let our love survive

I'll dry the tears from your eyes

Let's don't let a good thing die

When honey, you know I've never lied to you

Mmm, yeah, yeah

We're caught in a trap

I can't walk out

Because I love you too much, baby

Why can't you see

What you're doing to me

When you don't believe a word I say?"

So this is very much talking about one of the big plot points of this episode, a man who tries to bring his dead wife back to life in such desperation that he's willing to kill innocents to do it. Now the parallels drawn in this episode are very intentional to both John and Mary, even including the dialogue they speak after they kill said man and how John thinks that's love and Mary thinks it's horrible and she essentially makes him promise that that will never be them (clear foreshadowing) when in reality, even though it's showing that John already had the mindset of "doing it out of love" as he does in the future, they're both guilty of that. Mary brings John back to life when Azazel kills him, and as we all know, after Mary's death John goes on a revenge mission, wasting his life and putting his children through hell in the process. It's also just a running theme throughout SPN of toxic codependency and how almost every major character is also guilty of going to great lengths to bring the ones they love back. The song lyrics also apply to John and Mary as a romantic relationship as well and can show how their relationship is now and foreshadow what will happen in the future.

The thing that is different about this episode though, is that even though the parallels in this episode can apply to Dean, the actual Dean monologue doesn't, and this is what I find really weird and what I think is honestly one of the biggest indications that Jensen really is writing a fix it fanfiction:

This is the only episode where his monologue doesn't directly apply to himself. Every other episode ties in to his own experiences, except for this one. Dean doesn't go to great lengths to get himself a happy ending. Happy endings for other characters? Absolutely. But not for himself. Why would this be the only episode that doesn't directly relate to him? Well me and a lot of other people think because it really does apply to himself. But not as something he experienced in the past or has knowledge on, but as something he is doing right now. He is actively changing his future, possibly even a future with Cas (I do really think that there's a solid possibility that Destiel will become 100% canon in this show because of how everything is being set up, all of the parallels, and the fact that some of the cast, the social media team, and an executive producer has acknowledged some of these said parallels.) So in the end, how far will Dean go to get his happy ending?

Episode 11 "You've Got a Friend": Being a hunter means always being on the move. But no matter how hard you plan, no matter how hard you work, at a certain point, we all run out of road. It's what we do with those crossroads that define us.

"You've Got a Friend" is a song by Carole King from 1971:

"When you're down and troubled

And you need some lovin' care

And nothin', nothin' is goin' right

Close your eyes and think of me

And soon I will be there

To brighten up even your darkest night

You just call out my name

And you know, wherever I am

I'll come runnin'

To see you again

Winter, spring, summer or fall

All you have to do is call

And I'll be there

You've got a friend"

This represents Betty, and how in this episode she goes from being a potential source of trouble for the gang to becoming an ally, or a "friend" and an inside woman for them. This also can be applied to Carlos and Lata because Carlos was there for Lata and helped support her while Lata told Carlos about her childhood trauma.

In this episode, Dean's monologue is about the choices you make before you die. This can be seen in the choices made throughout this episode by multiple characters (Betty, Mary, John, etc) and this ties in with the song because no matter what choices you make, you'll have your friends by your side, which is true to Dean and just Supernatural as whole with their message of family and found family. Admittedly, I feel like the connection to Dean's voiceover and to the title of this episode aren't as strong as a lot of the previous episodes, but they're still there. (Betty, the "friend," makes a choice to work with the rest of the gang.) At the same time, I believe this can also be another instance of foreshadowing because Dean is dead, he's at that metaphorical cross road, and he's making a choice to go into the past.

As I said above, Lata faced her trauma. This is the 4th or 5th instance of someone on this show confronting their past. At this point, it's become a theme. Why would the show reiterate this point over and over? I think this will tie into Dean's reasons for why he's in the 70's. Not to mention this was yet ANOTHER episode where 2 characters are trapped in a room, and this time because of a shadow monster, and the only way to get out is if one confesses a deep secret. What the fuck.

Something to keep in mind is how much this episode emphasized secrets. This seems to foreshadow the fact that Dean is harboring some huge secrets that will soon be discovered. I think the real question now is how will these secrets be revealed to the audience and to our characters?

Episode 12 "The Tears of a Clown": Hunting is a dishonest business. You lie about who you are, and what you do. But the hardest lies aren't what you tell other people, but what you tell yourself."

The song "The Tears of a Clown" was released in 1967 by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles:

"Now if there's a smile on my face

It's only there trying to fool the public

But when it comes down to fooling you

Now honey that's quite a different subject

But don't let my glad expression

Give you the wrong impression

Really I'm sad, oh I'm sadder than sad

You're gone and I'm hurting so bad

Like a clown I appear to be glad (sad, sad, sad, sad)"

Okay, so this episode gave me a lot of brainrot. What the song is expressing is that even if you seem happy, that doesn't mean you are, and that was the big theme of this episode. Just because you seem okay or even think you're okay, that doesn't mean you are. With John, that applies to his anger issues and his unresolved issues with being charged for a murder he didn't commit. For Mary, it's the issues she already has, plus being unhappy in her relationship with John because she thinks he's using their relationship as an escape, and this also applies to her because even though she got accepted into college, she hadn't really taken any steps towards a normal life since then. In general, this episode was about a clown who lures emotionally vulnerable people into his circus tent so he can force them to be "happy" even though they aren't, like we saw with Roger.

This can very much apply to Dean's voice over, because the characters in this episode, including the clown, are actively lying to themselves.

The thing is, like a lot of Dean's voice overs, it's intentionally vague. He could be referring to literally anything. In the context of this episode, it makes the most sense that this is referring to Dean's anger issues and the fact that throughout the entirety of Supernatural, Dean oftentimes told himself and the people around him that he was okay, even though he wasn't. But at the same time, these voice overs and one like this in particular can be interpreted in different ways. What Dean says about facing the lies you tell yourself can apply to sexuality. Dean could be talking about not only his mental and emotional issues, but he could also be referencing being in love with Cas. At this point, Destiel happening feels like genuine build up. Now all we have to do is wait a couple more days to see if it all pays off.

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cheatingwifelover · 1 month

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Our yard guy. Lucas, is a hunter. I hunted in my younger days but in my old age I'm too sentimental to kill any animals. Sometimes when he's taking a break from mowing we talk about shooting. I've been wanting to try some target shooting on a 1,000 yard range but there aren't any I'm aware of near where we live.

Lucas told me about one in the Boerne area and one near DFW. I decided to spend a couple days at the one in the Boerne area and made reservations. My wife didn't want to put our dogs in the kennel to watch me shooting so she decided to stay home.

Off I went with my Ruger Precision Rifle. My plan was to leave early in the morning, do some shooting in the afternoon, spend the night, and drive home after shooting on the second day. I enjoyed the shooting but I missed my wife. On the rare occasions I'm staying overnight somewhere without my wife I call her and we talk on the phone before calling it a night.

I called home that night around 10 PM. No answer. I figured she might be out walking the dogs, or taking a shower, so I left a message for her to call me back. When I hadn't heard from her by 11 PM I called home again. Still no answer. At this point I felt the worry creep in. We hadn't been separated much in our decades long marriage and this was the first time my wife did not either call me herself or answer the phone when I was on an overnight trip.

I started calling every half hour. Every 30 minutes felt like an eternity. I didn't know what to do. I was worn out from the afternoon and fell asleep around 3AM. When I woke up about an hour later There was still no word from her. I tried calling with increasing frequency. I had a drink to relax, then another and another until I once again fell asleep.

I woke again at about 930 AM and checked my phone. There was a message from my wife. I'd had my ringer on vibrate and hadn't heard it. The timestamp on the message was 8:06 AM. She apologized for missing my call and said she was tired and going to bed, and that we could talk when I got back.

When I got back that evening she apologized again, said she didn't know what came over her, but she wasn't in the mood to talk about it. She told me I needed to give her some time. I'd learned over the years that pressing her was not only useless but could also be quite counterproductive so I just let it drop. It took almost a month and a lot of alcohol before she was ready to talk and I was glad I'd waited.

“So where we you when I called,” I asked her when she finally told me she was ready to talk.

“I was with Orin and Tony” was her surprising reply. I wrote about Orin and Tony in “Young Lust,” posted a few months ago, referring to them as O and T.

I immediately grasped the implications and felt my cock starting to harden in anticipation of what I was about to hear.

“What does being with Orin and Tony mean exactly,” I queried? “With them where, how? All night?”

“They took me out and then we went to a motel room.”

I was actually trembling a little when I asked “did you fuck them again?”

“We didn't go to a motel for Bible Study,” she quipped rather snarkily. “Of course we fucked, you're my husband not my owner.”

I had a raging hard on at this point, and out came my cock.

“Come on baby,” I coaxed, “tell me everything. I need to hear details. Don't hold anything back.”

Apparently, Tony had been unable to keep that first time with him and Orin and my wife to himself and had mentioned it to Lucas. Orin was embarrassed when Lucas asked him if it was true that the two of them had fucked my wife.

“Was your friend Tony bullshitting me or did the two of you really fuck Mrs. D” he asked?

“Fucking Tony,” he replied, “I told him to keep his mouth shut.”

“So it's true then,” said Lucas. “I'd love to get some of that myself, I can't believe you two beat me to it.”

“Well,” he continued, “if you want to try your luck with her again her husband is going to be out of town overnight next week. Let me know how it goes.”

Orin and Tony rang our doorbell at around 730 PM the night I was gone. Orin was holding a bouquet of flowers.

“These are for you Mrs D.” he said. “We heard from Lucas that Mr. D isn't home tonight so we thought we'd see if you'd like to go out to dinner with us. Our treat. Or maybe we could just go for a ride?”

“Where are your scooters,” asked my wife?

“At home tonight,” he said, “my parents finally bought me a car. I just have to pay the insurance/”

“It's sweet of you to ask,” she replied, “but I'm not really dressed to go out anywhere.”

“Please Mrs. D, you've been nice to us and we'd like to do something for you. We can wait while you get ready, or come back later.”

My wife couldn't help but feel flattered that these two young men were basically asking her out on a date at her age. What could it hurt she thought.

“Ok,” she relented. “Why don't you two give me some time to get ready. Come back in about an hour, and it's a date.”

As she got ready she downed a couple martinis feeling like if she was going through with this she needed to have a good buzz on. Even before an hour had elapsed she saw them on the security cameras waiting in the driveway. It was cute she thought, two young men this attentive. She wasn't naive though, she knew what was on their minds, what they really wanted, which was why she needed the martinis. Alcohol relaxed her and made her horny.

When she was finally ready she walked out to their car hoping they'd appreciate her outfit, and of course they did.

Tony couldn't restrain himself, “fuck do you look hot Mrs D” he said as he exited the car to make a place for her in the front seat.

“Well thank you Tony,” she replied, “I was hoping you'd like my outfit.”

“Fuck Mrs D, I love it,” Tony replied, climbing into the back seat. “None of our friends mom's are anywhere near as hot as you are.”

“Flattery will take you places,” my wife said in return.

|”We know a club where they don't check ID's” said Orin as my wife climbed into the passenger seat.

“I thought we were going to dinner,” said my wife. “Now I'm thinking you two just want to get me drunk and fuck me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. D, we were just thinking it was kinda late for dinner now,” said Orin.

“It's ok,” my wife said, “the club sounds like it might be fun. I haven't been clubbing for years, much less with two handsome young men as my escorts.”

She'd already down 3 martinis by the time they picked her up. You know what they say I'd quipped to her in the past, 3 martinis under the table, 4 martinis under the host. My wife joined the two of them one martini away from being under the host.

Sure enough, no one at the club asked for any ID. Orin and Tony ordered drinks for my wife but were careful not to drink much themselves. After another couple martinis my wife behaved very much out of character for her in a public place. She took turns sitting on their laps being fingered and making out with each of them, but no one else in the club really seemed to be paying them much attention.

By midnight my wife needed assistance just getting back to their car.

“Where are we going now” she asked, noticing they weren't headed in the direction of home.

“My parents are home,” said Orin, “so Tony and I got us a motel room. Is that ok Mrs D?”

“Sure,” replied my wife pretty much having accepted where the night was heading when the two of them showed up at the door with a bouquet of flowers asking her out on a date. “But I can't stay all night, I have to get home and let our dogs out.”

“I was surprised to see you two tonight” my wife said once they were in the motel room. “I thought you'd had your fun and were no longer interested.”

“No, “ said Orin, “we've both been wanting to fuck you again but this is the first time we've really had the chance. My parents haven't gone anywhere since the first time.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Tony, “we didn't think you'd want to do anything at your place, and we were afraid to try again with your husband around.”

“When Lucas told me your husband was going to be gone tonight we decided we'd try to see you again,” added Orin.

“Why would Lucas say anything about my husband, does he know what we did?”

“He does,” replied Orin, “Tony couldn't keep his big mouth shut.”

“He wants to fuck you too,” chipped in Tony. “He told Orin he couldn't believe we got you before he did.”

Somehow, thought my wife, it all seems rather disturbing, but she was too drunk at the moment to object or care. My husband is away and I'm in a motel room with two young guys who want to fuck me, so why complain? I'm so horny right now I don't care about anything but getting fucked said her inner monologue.

Tony wrapped his arms around my wife and kissed her. Orin took out his cock and began to stroke it watching the two of them making out. Tony slipped one hand down to unzip his pants and my wife extracted his cock, stroking it as they kissed.

Tony put both his hands on her shoulders and applied pressure to push her down onto her knees.

“Suck my cock,” he told her, “be a good wife and put that hot mouth of yours to work for me.”

Tony was the bigger of the two of them and had the biggest cock. He also was the more aggressive of the two and inclined towards arrogance and swagger, an attitude my wife claims to dislike. I have no doubt that his arrogance was at least partially the product of that fat 8 inch cock that was now poised with its own seeming arrogance in front of my wife's face.

“Come on,” said Tony putting both hands behind her head and pushing his cock to her lips, “swallow that fucking cock.”

She was aware of Orin behind them stroking his cock, enjoying the show, even though she couldn't see him. She opened her mouth and did as requested, swallowing that big cock until Tony's balls were pressing against her chin. He relaxed his grip on her head but used both hands to guide her mouth up and down, bouncing his balls on her chin with each stroke.

“Fuck yes,” Tony said to Orin, “look at this fuckin' slut swallow cock. The bitch has zero gag reflex.”

From “Mrs D,” to “bitch,” and “slut,” she felt an atmospheric change in the room but she didn't let it interfere with her performance. She wrapped her left arm behind Tony for support and used her right hand to squeeze and milk his balls as she sucked on that big flesh pipe, determined to drain those heavy balls.

“Fuck, the slut is going to make me cum,” said Tony, but I want to fuck her. Help me stand her back up Orin.”

They each took an arm and lifted her to her feet. She stood before them in her short black dress, hot thick thighs sexily exposed under flesh colored pantyhose hose, and high-heeled black fuck me boots. Tony had resisted the urge to fuck her in the car even before they got to the club but he was going to satisfy that urge now.

“Oh god I so want to fuck you,” said Tony, lifting her dress and exposing her pussy in crotchless pantyhose.”But first I want to suck on those big tits,” he said, tearing open the top of her dress and just pulling her bra down to get them out.

“God I love your big tits Mrs D,” he told her, sucking first one nipple into his mouth and then the other.

Between the making out and fingering in the club, sucking on his big cock, and now Tony sucking her tits, her pussy was gushing. She couldn't remember the last time her husband had made her this wet, if ever.

Meanwhile, Orin grabbed some astroglide they had left on the nightstand when they'd rented the room earlier in the day. He approached her from behind and felt his friend Tony push his cock into her pussy and start fucking her. Orin generously lubed up his cock with the astroglide and then tossed the rest of it onto the bed.

“Hold her still for a second Tony,” he said, then grabbing her hips, began to slowly push his well lubed cock into her ass.

She froze with surprise and the initial pain of anal penetration.

“Don't move,” pleaded my wife, “let me adjust.”

“Ok, go slow” she said momentarily.

Orin eased his cock in balls deep and said, “I'm in her all the way. Fuck is her ass tight. Go ahead Tony, fuck her.”

My wife wrapped her arms around Tony's neck, kissing him deeply as the two boys began to establish a rhythm. Now that the initial pain of anal penetration had dissipated she shuddered in pleasure at the sensation of the two of them pushing into her at the same time. The pressure of two cocks thrusting into her was simply exquisite. She felt like she was being hoisted into mid-air by young cock. She'd always enjoyed anal sex, or at least tolerated it, but with a cock in her cunt at the same time she remember how good it felt and wondered why she hadn't indulged it more frequently?

She felt Orin behind her turning her head away from Tony, wanting to kiss her. It was a little awkward but she kissed him back as best she could then turned back to Tony. The lust these two young men expressed for her ignited her own passion, deepened by a pending explosion of pleasure she felt about to overwhelm her. She was glad she hadn't gone with her husband but she felt a brief flicker of guilt at the thought before returning herself completely to the moment.

She suddenly felt Orin wrap his arms over her shoulders and push her body down into him. He thrust up on his tiptoes trying to push every millimeter of his cock into her ass. She could feel his body shudder and knew he was about to cum.

“Oh fuck,” he exclaimed....”oooohhhhhh....fuck” and she felt his cock pulsating and emptying into her.

She had been trying to hold back, to extend sensation as long as possible, but Orin cumming as he did pushed her over the edge and she was unable to contain the explosion. She saw light flashing behind her eyes and felt momentarily like she might pass out.

Oh my god,” she cried out, “oh my god,” feeling her whole body flooded with wave after wave of orgasmic bliss.

Orin pulled his cock out of her with an audible “plop” and settled back, practically falling into the chair behind him. Tony wasn't done yet and continued pumping his cock into her married pussy with increasing vigor. He turned her around and began backing her towards the bed as he fucked her.

His cock never entirely left her cunt as he re-positioned her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. He reached up and squeezed her big tits, and then started sucking her nipples, first one, then the other, alternating continuously as he fucked her.

She felt another orgasm building. As Tony continued pistoning into her and working her tits with hands and mouth, she reached down between their bodies and fingered her clit. She thought she'd felt Tony cum in her but he didn't get soft or stop pumping that big cock into her so she wasn't sure. She came again and just laid there as his cock kept sawing into her.

She was aware of Orin approaching and was surprised to hear him tell Tony to turn her so that her head was at the edge of the bed.

“Help me with her then,” said Tony, “I don't want to stop fucking her.”

Between the two of them they managed to move her into the desired position without Tony having his cock slip from her pussy.

“Again already,” she asked Orin, looking up at his hard cock hovering over her face.

“We both took some Viagra before we left the club,” he replied to her surprise. “We didn't know when we'd get another chance like this with you and didn't want to waste a minute of it.”

She didn't know whether she should feel flattered or used, but in the moment wondered if it really mattered.

Getting her head just right over the edge of the bed Orin bent his knees slightly, placing his cock against her mouth.

“Suck my cock Denise,” he told her, using her name for the first time.

He'd always called her Mrs D before and she didn't realize he even knew her name. There was something about it that seemed to make it feel more intimate, narrowing the gap between them, and yet at the same time a little threatening.

“Oh yeah, that's it” he told her as he pushed his cock into her throat. “I've missed this mouth Denise, I've never met another girl who can suck a cock like you do.”

He called her a girl. Was that a good thing or a bad thing she wondered? As Tony continued to fuck her pussy Orin now fucked her throat, pushing into her until his balls were pressing against her nose. Not pulling all the way back each time but keeping most of his cock in her warm mouth then pushing back all the way into her throat.

Tony had never stopped pumping into her, never gone soft, but she thought she had felt him cum in her two or three times without slowing down. Now Orin seemed renewed and kept plunging his cock into her mouth and throat until her jaws ached. She fully understood what it meant to be spit roasted. She felt like meat on a spit but there was something about the idea of it, of her, a married woman three times their age taking cock like this, that overcame with lust any doubts or reservations.

She wanted to be the “girl” of their sexual fantasies, to be the unforgettable female they would savor the memory of for their entire lives, and she threw herself even more completely into the moment and into the night. They need not worry about having another chance with her, she'd make it happen, and she'd get her cuckold husband to help. Not help sexually, but to help create the opportunity for her to enjoy them like this again.

Orin interrupted her reverie by pulling his cock out of her mouth and dangling his balls over her lips.

“Suck my balls Denise,” he told her.

She took his heavy balls into her mouth and sucked on them, something she had never done for me, and the idea of it increased her arousal. She felt him pushing down with his cock as she sucked, apparently trying to get it into her mouth at the same time. She opened her mouth as wide and she could and heard him moan as she managed to get both his balls and his cock into her warm wet mouth.

“Oh fuck that's good,” he moaned. “Suck it, fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he said, and pushed in with his cock just as he erupted down her throat.

She didn't miss a drop and neither did she stop sucking on his cock and balls. He never softened. Maybe she could make him cum again like that she though and decided she would try. Tony was still sawing his big cock into her cunt. She didn't want the night to end. She kept hearing her cell phone ringing in her purse. She knew it had to be her husband calling like he did whenever he spent a night away but she didn't care. Good cock had to come before good husbands.

“Let's change up,” said Tony. “Let's DP the slut again, and this time I want that ass.”

Orin got on the bed and Tony helped my drunk wife straddle him. She guided his cock into her married cunt and he pulled her down to suck her big tits which were hanging out of her dress.

“If Lucas was here we could make this bitch airtight,” said Tony, climbing onto the bed behind her.

“Maybe next time,” said Orin.

Tony picked up the astroglide Orin had earlier thrown on the bed and lubed his cock to fuck my wife up the ass.

“Oh my fucking god,” he said as he pushed his big cock into her ass. “This shit is fucking tight. I was wasting my time in the slut's cunt.”

“You belong to us now Denise,” said Tony as he fucked my wife up the ass. “We won't be waiting so long to have you next time.”

At some point everything became a blur. Memory faded. She woke up between them and looked at her watch. Fuck, almost 8 AM. Her husband must be worried and near panic. She shook Orin awake.

“You have to take me home,” she said, “right now, if you ever want to do this again.”

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nozomi-akamivt · 1 year

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Scalpels and Paintbrushes || Chishiya Shuntarô x Reader

- read ‘til the end for notes -

When a freelance artist travels to Japan to rekindle her passion for art and her life, she finds herself in a whole other predicament. Dangerous games, dangerous people, a dangerous world with dangerous rules. She’s alone, fending for herself, until she meets a disoriented medical student that will bring her comfort but might bring more difficulties and heartbreak aswell.

TW: gore, Niragi being Niragi

Chapter 7: I am not a Woman I'm a God

The first two weeks of being alone without Chishiya were the worse, I felt disoriented, like I was a ship lost in a turbulent sea without an anchor to keep me in place. I lost an arm and it also felt like I had lost a friend, or more than that... a lover.

I didn't know what we were, everyday, I wrapped my wound and felt the stump left instead of my arm, wanting it to be him helping me lick my wounds. Everyday I fall asleep with my walkie talkie clutched tight in my arms. I was waiting for him, because he was the only one I had left. And unlike Hide or Yumeko, he wasn't dead, I didn't kill him, he was fine....was he? Is he? I still have no news and I am starting to lose my mind. I try to be positive, to tell myself he'll call but then another week passes. Two more games are completed. They are harder when you only have one arm left.

"I should get in better shape, I'm back at letting myself die at this point."

Looking in the mirror I see that the chub that used to be around my hips and waist, and the one around my legs and right arm are gone. My face is looking thinner and my clavicles start to show. It has been hard taking care of myself while lacking an arm and someone to help me in this disorienting situation. I still needed to find ways to make everything easier for myself.

"I need to eat more, and I definitely need to do something about this nest of hair."

"Seriously, I need to put on some muscles, I won't be able to help anyone out if I'm a dead woman standing. C'mon (y/n) he'll call when he can, when he's ready. He said he needed time, and so you will need some too, not thinking about him, but getting better for others and him to see that you are here, alive and well and ready to help."

Because that was my vow to Hide and Yumeko. That I'll help others in this shitshow of a world.

And with a sigh I cover up the mirror and prepare myself to go get the traps I set outside for wild rabbits, hoping for a good catch. Hunting by setting traps was by far the easiest way to get food for me, as I couldnt hunt with only one arm, or at least not yet, I'd adapt sooner or later I hope.

Fortunately, three rabbits were caught in my net. Enough to last me two days, and as I could make broth out of the bones they would last me even more.

That was how my life was since Chishiya left. One armed lass against the cruel world of the borderlands, waiting for her beau to call. Playing games when absolutely needed and hoping they didn't require two arms or else she'd be royally fucked.

And then three weeks turned into four, then five, six, seven, two months, then three, then four.

And as I lost hope of ever seeing him again, whether it be because he died or ghosted me, which would be the same in essence, I decided to take it upon myself to get stronger.

So one might expect a training montage while I say this and honestly it might be better but the reality is more cruel unfortunately.

It started after the one month mark:

In the mornings I'd wake up and run until my legs and lungs gave out, having two arms to catch yourself is easily taken for granted in situations like this one and I most often than not face planted.

Nose bloodied I made my way to the traps, some days luckier and more bountiful than others.

More often than not I'd go to games whenever I could in the evenings, they'd keep my mind sharp and would force me to adapt to my new disability. And as monstrous as it sounds, you easily get adapted to the sight of brain matter and organs on the floor and walls.

My stump hurt like crazy still, it also itched under the bandages. And more often than not, I woke up with the phantom pains, feeling as if my arm got ripped from me, again and again.

I could rarely fall asleep, so I went to take Chishiya's old blouse and used it to cuddle as i curled on myself during the hard nighs, which were most of them.

After the two months mark I got better:

My legs and lungs had a harder time giving out so I ran further and faster until they did.

I also barely managed to cut my hair at this point, it was down to the middle of my back and looked just about ready to be a rat king. So with gardening scissors, a lot of shaking and a lot of patience I managed to look like a little boy who cut his hair with daddy's ball trimmer. It was bad, but more breathable, easier to take care of, and I mean who doesn't like a short haired, one armed wonder?

I didn't but you get used to it when it's all you can have.

I also started hunting bigger catches, like wild boar. And to do so I had to learn by myself, with the help of books I found in the mall book store. My japanese, having gotten much better in the bast two months, helped me enough that I could decypher how to observe and analyse the tell tale signs of the presence of boars. Bite marks on the trees, shape of frictions on the ground, hoof marks...

And that also meant I had to learn how to make spears. You never know how much more useful can your legs get until you use them as a second arm to hold wood down as you sharpen it. And they are definitely of use when trapping a boar down as you pin the beast with all your weight and deliver the killing blow.

That also meant my right arm got much stronger, I mean to compensate for my lacking left one, I had to make it better than it was. So, remembering Yumeko's self defence lessons I started to use them on real people in games.

To train of course.

But also because those people really need to get a grip. The lack of physically present autorities and the permission to commit atrocities really get to some people and they need to get their brains out of their asses before they get got.

Of course if assholes died it isn't much of my fault, I mean I do warn them. But do I go out of my way to save a guy that just groped a middle school girl? Nah. Fuck that. I much prefer saving the pregnant woman from getting killed by a masked kitsune.

And the third month I started to see:

My stump had healed almost fully by this point, it was itchy yes, the phantom pains were killing me, also yes. But there were almost no signs of fresh flesh or almost no risk of infections. That was one less worry to have? But to give me more balance I put a belt around it and gave it some weight, it would help me be better and faster on my feet without fearing that I'll fall every second that I live.

The walkie talkie was loud with silence, it teased me, laughed in my face at my abandonment so I hid it in Yumeko's stuff. And speaking of Yumeko and Hide, I organized their stuff in boxes, but not without crying at the memories and reiterating my vow to them.

I swore once more to them that I'd live once more, but also that as much as I'll help the ones around me I won't trust anyone to be close again. Not if it ends up with death, not if it ends up with them leaving

I left the idea of Chishiya contacting me again, maybe he did die, maybe he really did just leave, or maybe he broke or lost his walkie talkie. But I have to forget him, as good as it was he isn't here anymore so I have to learn to be by myself.

And that had to be the hardest thing.

"Goodbye Shuntarô."

I say as I close the box containing his scrubs, ID and white vest.

And until the summer I thrived:

After the third and fourth months I felt it, how I hardened mentally. The loneliness didn't feel quite as gruelling, the sound of silence not as mean. The pain in my stump stopped and other than my flashes of phantom pain I was, almost back to normal, as normal as I could be lacking a limb.

During a game in Harajuku I also found much better clothes than what I had. And I decided to treat myself, a trench coat, similar to the one from the Kuchisake-Onna game that felt was years ago. But also better, stronger and more comfortable combat boots. The rest was easy enough to find as Harajuku is the fashion district of Tokyo. But looking in the mirror, it was a different me than the one I was when I first came to Japan.

"It pains me to say it, but this batshit insane game really did give me my spark back. Just not in the way I had hoped."

But a win is a win, and I was not about to refuse something alright happening to me.

Hunting was bountiful, once every four to five days I could catch a boar and on the daily would be fish, some rabbit too. I also started to grow chillies, soy, sorghum and wheat as they were easy to conserve and create durable meals out of.

As time passed I saw some sort of faction make itself more and more known, people dressed in bikinis and other swimsuits rolling around in old cars with guns and a strong smell of weed following them. They were loud and participated in a few games with me, seeming more excitable and deranged than the average game player around.

So, I kept an eye on them, danger is common around here but they were trouble.

"Why are you looking at those people like that?"

I turn around to see a tall lanky girl with dreadlocks looking at me curiously.

"It's fine, they just seem way too excited to be here."

"I hear you. I'm Kuina, nice to meet you."

"You're part of their org aren't you Kuina-san?"

"Oh please don't be so formal with me. And yeah, I am. Is that a problem?"

She asks looking a tad bit nervous.

"As long as you don't cause any problem, no. But if your friends do don't expect me to go easy on them."

"You didn't tell me your name?"

"It's (y/n). You've been with them for long?"

"Nah, only a month or so? I had a good card they wanted so they brought me to their boss and boom."

She shows her wrist, showing a locker key bracelet with a number on it.

So, it seems this org was looking for cards, did they want to have every number from every suit? Why would that be?

Could it be their answer to being out here, could it be a way out?

It would be stupid, but maybe not impossible.

All of a sudden a chime is heard.

"Game, Eight of Spades: The Cage. You will have weapons at your disposition and the group will be separated in four smaller player groups, each fighting in one of the four arenas until only one is left alive. The four players left will be granted their visas. Good luck!"

Damn, my fucking arm. I'm fucked, but I need to try.

On the four tables are an array of simple short range weapons, american fists, many types of knives, boxing gloves reinforced with metal, batons, tonfas, bo, kendo swords. All in all, they'd be better for abled people.

All except for one. A long and strudy steel chain whip with its blades looking ready to shred flesh.

I close my hand in a fist, trying to calm my shudders, and take the whip. It was heavy but not too much, the lack of material made it lighter than a two handed sword but the length made it harder to manipulate than a butcher knife. They will do, they have to. and all of a sudden it glows teal, displaying my name on the pommel.

"Players, please separate in even numbers to form the groups"

Kuina and five other people are sent to one side of the room to an arena as she nods good luck to me and I to her. A bald and tattoed man, feeling similar to a snake somehow, lead his group to another arena. A long black haired man with a monochrome patterned shirt and a sadistic smile lead his to the penultimate arena. And I was left walking with my own group to the last one.

Here we were given earphones.

"Welcome to arena four. The rules are simple, the matches are one to one and end only when one of you is dead. The winners will fight each other again one to one until two are left, the winner of this last fight will recieve their visas and be granted the right to keep their weapon. Good luck."

Some look anxious and others look extatic, as for the latter one of them approaches me and grabs me by the stump.

"I'll take you, it'll be an easy win for an easy woman."

"Of course you go for the disabled one, trying to compensate for something big boy?"

The people around us laugh.

"Cause if so c'mere, mommy will put you to sleep so you can think on it. Unless I bashed your brains in enough that I destroyed your last braincells."

I get in the arena and motion for him to come teasingly.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) against Yoshitsuke Kunizaku"

And Kunizaku doesn't waste time, coming at me full speed with his machete. So I drop to the ground and kick his feet from under him, his momentum making him fall harder than he would've normally.

He is like a boar.

He attacks again and again, brashly but with a strength to worry about. So just like a boar I slowly turn around him, I make him lose his breath with unnecessary chases.

He nicks me on the face, under the breasts, on the arm, on the leg. But he breathes herder, and as I evade him I swing my whip, and I cut and lacerate his legs.

And so they give up on him.

And he is left writhing, clawing his way to his machete and when he does he blindly cuts as he tries to get back to his feet.

"You see the sad thing about a bladed whip is that I can't kill you at once, so don't make it harder for yourself little boar."

The whip is lashed at the man, and the arm holding his weapon is cut again and again until only bone and mangled flesh are left. And as he bleeds and screams I swing the whip again and again and again. My rage, my stress, and the pain felt during the past months possessing my senses as I finish by wrapping the whip around his head and cutting it clean off.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) wins"

And I pant as I get off the arena, people looking at me while I pant and wake up from my haze. The rest of the fights are a blur until mine.

She was fast and slippery like a fish. She hit with small cuts, nothing impairing but definitely would make you lose enough blood on the long run so that she could win.

So instead of playing around like with the boar, I take her by her hair and kick her to the ground, then make her a belt out of my whip. I try to shut my brain off as I saw her in half and she screams in agony.

What am I doing with myself. That I what I ask to the inner me who laughs and just say one word that rises bile in my mouth.

"Survive"

Yeah, right, survive.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) wins"

My last oponent is a very tall man, probably ex military. He looks, blank. And I would be scared of him, if I wasn't already of myself. This game was only one of the many after the Eight of Hearts in which I had to kill someone....multiple someones. And I was doing it flawlessly. As I did last time and the time before. And the fact that I didn't feel much while doing it was disgusting me.

But that's how the borderlands are. They change you, and it's never for the best.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) against Hikaru Kazushi"

He waits for me to attack first. He is patient, almost catatonic. It's a game of who will crack first and give the upper hand to the adversary.

So I slowly approach, wating to tease, to tempt him to attack first but he doesn't. So I turn around and prepare my whip, acting as if I was preparing an attack.

And he beats me to it.

Hitting the back of my head with his american fists. He turns me around expertedly and hits just about everything he can.

My eyes start to fade to black.

I need to find an opening

But where?

WHERE?!

I don't want to die, not yet, I need to repent, I need to uphold my promise

I NEED TO LIVE

"Found it."

He was using his left arm more, flinching when using his right. When I heard him move, he limped and seeing as he ended with his right leg he limped from the left.

So as he winds his right arm to hit my face I turn at the last moment, trapping it between my stump and my ribcage in my armpit. I kick his crotch a few times to destabilize him and turn us so I would be on top of him, his arm still in my grasp. And I wind my legs around his left leg and squeeze, hearing a pained yell from him and a crack from the leg. I then take care of the right arm and hit his elbow, hitting it so that it breaks and then bending the limb to an unnatural angle, the arm almost completely cut in two.

"See, now we're twinsies!"

I say as I agitate my stump in his horrified face and then use what is left of my left arm to cut his hair flow. With my right arm I grab my discarded weapon and bring it to the throat of the bleeding man beneath me and slit his throat.

As he gargles with his blood chimes are resonating all around the building.

"Takatora Samura, Suguru Niragi, Hikari Kuina and (y/l/n) (y/n) congratulations!"

I get up and as I do I try not to look beneath me as I fear I will vomit. And I stay here for a while, standing up without moving. My breaths short and rapid, body covered in blood, short hair sticking to me like glue with my sweat and blood.

"Damn woman, that was hot. Do you wanna do the same but in my bed, I'd love for you to draw my blood and use me as a fucking punching ball as I fuck you into my mattress and cut you open."

wha- What the fuck?

"What the hell Niragi, don't you know how to talk to a woman?!"

"As if YOU were a woman Kuina. Plus she isn't just a woman, she's a fucking war machine! A blood Goddess!"

I turn to see that Kuina was arguing with the man that flirted with me...? The psycho himself was the monochrome patterned shirt wearing man from group three.

"Blood Goddess? I'm flattered but refrain from talking to me like that or I'll castrate you kiddo."

The tattoed dobby wannabe snickered at that and full on laughed when Niragi glared at him.

"We've seen you around sexy, you've made quite the impression. Everyone at The Beach knows about you one way or the other, you've killed many of us and always seem to observe. We'd like to recruit you, we're sure you got some good cards, plus we could have some fun you and I. One on one, or if you want more I could always call more friends, fill you up real good with all of us until you're round and satisfied."

I visibly cringe at this, I've seen him around too. Always laughing, always smiling, always with his gun and always sadistic and horrendous towards others if he isn't already gutting them open.

"Listen I get what your org is trying to do and I'm fine on my own, why should I get in?"

"Why not, we have electricity, we have pleanty of food, booze, drugs, anyone you could ever want to have sex with. We have comfortable beds and a shelter that is assured against any type of exterior attack from greedy newbies or other factions."

"Yeah! And (y/n) I could really use a lady friend, shit is pretty much boring for me female wise there, they all act the same and you seem cool! Wouldn't you like a friend?"

"Not really no, you know what happens to people around here, I'm not losing someone else around here Kuina."

She nods, knowing the feeling. And then her head shoots back up with her eyes sparkling. And she starts to talk as we get out of the building and towards their cars.

"Listen I know you don't want to come and I won't force you but if you have enough good cards you could very much become a member of the executive council, and then you'd get infos no one else has and influence!"

"And why why would I care?"

"From what I know you want to protect people right? With those you could very well be the guardian of our people here at The Beach. There will always be a purpose for you there, and you won't be alone!"

That had me interested. Loneliness, I had gotten adapted to it but it was certainly getting to me at times. There I could go to my room or disappear outside if I needed alone time.

I also would have a permanent job. Whether as a card collector or as a "guardian" as Kuina put. It would certainly give me a purpose other than waiting until I get a new game and visa.

And it would certainly beat the emptiness at home.

So I sighed and climbed in the car next to Kuina who beamed at me.

"Niragi, drive before I change my mind."

He snickers and answers with a playful "yes ma'am" as he speeds on the road.

It was quiet surprisingly, the night was black and it was cold enough to stay awake but it was also so comfortable. The wind was blowing on us. And I stood straight, holding the headrest of Last Boss (as I learned he prefers to be called) and let myself relax a bit. The blood caked on me was going to suck ass but I'm finally going to be able to have a bath. From what I've heard they even have a sauna.

"How the fuck do you guys have so much, are you in a hotel?"

"Sorta, yeah. We're in a holiday resort, so there's the hotel but also a shit load more."

"Damn. That's fun."

"Where did you live before?"

"Oh a store in a mall that old friends and I made into a cool living space. We recycled rain water, and lately I even grew my own food for some things. I hunted for my meat in the suburbs, mostly boar and rabbit but also fish. It was calm enough but I had to wack away a few assholes that tried to overrun the place."

Kuina then stands up holding Niragi's headrest to be with me.

"We also recycle rain water, we use the fuel from cars to fuel our generators to make electricity and the old cars are our means of travelling since electronics are not worth much in this world compared to analog."

"Yeah, I can see you guys are self sufficient if The Beach hasn't crumbled yet in the time it has been around, even with the large number you guys seem to be."

And as I finish talking I hear yells from afar, they get louder and louder as we get to the coast where a resort is situated.

They scream at us like the public yells in joy after a gladiator wins his fight against a feral animal, like a country welcoming their war heroes. And I look at Kuina, silently asking her if it was always this way, and by the way she laughs at my face, it seems to be the case.

And after the car was parked Kuina said goodbye to me and Niragi and Last Boss lead me to where I'd be introduced to the "executive council". Overall, I respect the organization of...well, the organization. And so we walked, up many stairs and down many corridors until we arrived at a large double door.

"So uh lady let me tell you, the boss is quit an egotistical asshole so try not to bite his head off, though I'd love to see it."

"Niragi, I'm not interested."

"Hey, but you might be some time!"

"Yeah, no. I like my men less psychotic and my women nicer. Open the door please? I'd rather get this done quickly and be able to shower."

"Sure baby, come to me anytime you want to-"

"Niragi."

And with that he knocked, calling upon the people inside who he contacted previously via walkie talkie, and opened the door with Last Boss. They allowed me to walk first and closed the door behind me.

"Come, come! Please sit! I am Hatter, the boss of this utopia that is The Beach!"

Yeah he's a hatter alright, a mad one for sure. Extravagant and loud but most importantly way too confident.

"And you, who are you sweetie? I gotta know who my future member is after all!"

"(y/n)."

"Not a talker are you?"

"Not really no, I'm efficient in my work, that's all you need to know."

"And that's fine! I love it when we have efficient players! What cards do you have darling?"

I reach into my backpack and pull a packet of a dozen or so cards and Hatter looks extatic. And as he looks excitedly through the cards that he snatched from me I look around the room. There is one man with glasses, he seems tense. A woman with sunglasses who seems to be impatient. A woman with short side bangs and long black hair who seems almost like she is pleased. A tall muscular man, probably ex military. And in the far back someone, in white...

In Hide's old clothes.

He looks at me, face lacking expressions but eyes showing surprise and maybe even fear.

The man that left.

The man who abandonned me.

The man I tried so hard not to think about anymore, not to love anymore.

Shuntarô Chishiya

M.list

taglist wanters

WELCOME BACK TO S&C EVERYBODY, I never forgot about this story I just had a rapidly declining mental and physical healthy I HAD to take a drastic time off of everything. Writing was the lesser concern so I appologize for continuing this story only nearly two years after last chapter. But due to my now stronger than ever mental fortitude, the new season of AiB and a multitude of projects that I have: I decided to come back and make it count. SO welcome to the new and bettered Arcanox tumblr which will in substance, be the my main hub of influence since it is where I have the most followers!

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serialkirah · 24 days

Text

i'd like to tell a story that not a lot of people in my life know about

it's about how the anti-trans movement and a family business ruined my relationship with my grandparents.

so, i'll start at the beginning, and i'll try to make it brief, but it's all kind of important.

my grandfather started a business when i was born, in 1997. it took quite a few years until it took off. it was a lot of hard work. i won't say exactly what it is, because then this post loses it's anonymous touch, but it's a farm that sells something unique (not weed, ok).

when i was growing up, i begged my grandfather to work there. i wanted to make money, and i wanted to spend the summers at my grandparent's house. they finally let me work there when i was 12.

back then, i was a little girl in a workplace dominated by men. there were porn calendars in the lunch room, even. i fell behind a lot, as most of the men working there were tanks, but i liked doing my part as there were really only four of us back then. i worked every summer.

i liked spending time with my grandparents. my grandfather even back when i was a kid always had white hair - the stress of running this farm sucked all the pigment out of his hair. he has a dark skinned tone, a gruff look about him, and he's fairly short (as the rest of his family, myself included). he's the type of guy who loves being outdoors; clearing the land, hunting, fishing, tapping maples, landscaping - that kind of thing.

my grandmother has always had dark brown hair, and even now looks fairly young for a grandmother. she keeps her hair shoulder length, usually tucked into a ponytail, wears the same black tshirt and capri pants or blue jeans almost everyday, and she's always been into interior design, decorating, flower arrangement, crafting and gardening.

i loved doing things together with them. i could be outside all day burning grass with my grandfather, then spend the evening painting furniture with my grandmother.

my manager at the farm was my uncle, my grandparents son. he was my favourite person, and he was such a great boss. he was this tall, big guy who always wore a leather vest, black t-shirt, and ripped cut off blue jeans and these huge black boots. he was a metalhead, so intelligent, and effortlessly funny and charming. i grew up without my dad in my life, and at some points during my childhood, my mom and him lived in the same building and shared a car, so he's always been someone i was close to. in 2007, he had a baby, and at some point, since my baby cousin and i were always together, i had begun calling him "dad" - i even called my own mom "auntie" a lot! not all the time, just when i talked to my cousin. he's sort of a sibling, more than a cousin.

as the years went by, my uncle relied on me even more. i became his assistant and began helping him with the business side of the farm. my grandfather sat me down when i was about 16 and asked if i'd like to take over the farm. his son didn't want to take it over, and i seemed competent and interested. i decided to go to college for this very niche industry, and to do that i had to go away to the only college in my country which had a program dedicated to it.

the year i left for college, my uncle died from a heart attack. my whole family was devastated, my cousin was left without a father, and my grandparents never really got over it. he was their golden boy, the guy they relied on to run the complicated side of their business, and it took a toll on their personal lives as well as their business. my grandparents took custody of my cousin.

it was difficult to overcome the deep depression i experienced after his death, and i even neglected my studies that year. it was like losing a parent to me. if it wasn't for the friends i made in college, i probably would have had a much harder time. but i obtained a graduate certificate in 2019, in the end.

around this time, i also came out to my grandparents as transgender. i was starting my transition from female to male, and i wanted them to be aware it was happening. i've been out to them since 2017, and to my other friends and immediate family i've been out since 2014. they took it like the average grandparent would, confused and uneducated, but they managed to swallow their opinions and accepted that it was going to happen. it did involve me striking for a few months, but they eventually needed my help when the pandemic started, and they asked me to come back to the farm. i assumed the position of manager. i moved into company housing, just down the road from work, and began working full time.

it was a difficult adjustment to become assistant manager to a manager that had passed away and didn't leave instructions. even though i had gone to school for this specific industry, i hadn't gone to school for business administration, so i was essentially taking over business duties with no training. i had to teach myself a lot, or learn from other colleagues. my grandfather was a knowledgeable man in business and farming practices, for sure, but when it came to technology, accounting, traceability, compliance, human resources, auditing, inventory, resource management; he needed help. even though i became his right hand man during this time, running the business alone for a few years took a severe toll on his health and in the beginning of 2020, he was diagnosed with cancer.

he had to take an extended break while he was receiving treatment. and i was there to take over his duties. even before he took a break, i was doing everything from audit prep to inventory tracking, environmental data collection to representing the company at conferences, media appearances to health and safety training, guided tours to project management. now, i was also in charge of all daily operations, scheduling, communication, and a team of eleven people. on top of that, i joined a board of directors for an association related to my farm. the very business that turned my grandfather's hair white in just a few short years was now turning my own hair white at 23.

that's all to say - i think i was doing very well. my coworkers and i got along very well, and everything always moved smoothly. but enough was never enough for my grandparents, and i was constantly berated for everything i did.

i think the stress of losing their son with the addition of the cancer diagnosis caused a negative change in my grandparents. over the course of three years, the same people who i loved spending every summer with became aggressive, argumentative, sarcastic, mean-spirited. i started spending more time at my own place rather than eating supper with them almost every night. i skipped afternoon coffee and long talks with my grandmother, because i couldn't stand listening to her increasingly manic religious rants about how nobody has morals these days, they just do whatever they want. i stopped talking about anything other than work with my grandfather, because he started becoming increasingly aggressive and indignant whenever he wasn't caught up on daily activities at the farm, and especially so when i had everything handled correctly. he was able to overcome his cancer, and was declared cancer free. he decided to rebuild his house, so he still took time off, but would still come to the farm to get angry about this or that.

i was becoming so stressed that i would call my mother every other day to seek advice. i started to wonder if my grandfather was ever going to retire and let me run the business without his constant surveillance and micromanaging. i was so stressed that i started psychotherapy to attempt to balance both my emotions and career.

then, i fell in love with the girl that worked at my local coffee shop. i had asked her to hang out as friends at first, but she was the one who kissed me first. we began dating in january of 2023, and she changed everything. she was there to help me understand that getting screamed at everyday for unimportant things wasn't normal. that working 7 days a week for three years with no days off wasn't healthy. that forbidding me to take time off to see my friends, do anything fun, or even spend my free time making art was incredibly fucked up.

finally, in the spring of 2023, my grandfather dropped a bomb on me one day. i had mentioned to him that i was doing really well with the mutual aid program i created for trans youth, and how i'm working with a lgbt youth group in town, and like a man possessed, he began spouting off about transgender people. yeah, i just don't like those transgender people. those men are always cheating by winning women's sports. and they beat women up did you know that? if women don't let them into the bathroom they beat those women up. they go in there and rape women and kids.

i was shell shocked by this outburst. i had never heard this opinion from him, and it was as if he had this whole rant locked and loaded, ready to spring up when given the opportunity. where did this come from? i asked. it's all over the news, i've seen videos on youtube, it's all true. there was no convincing him. even when i tried to appeal to common sense, or share an empathetic viewpoint. but you know, i'm transgender. obviously, not all trans people are the same. i don't do any of those things, and of all the trans people i know, none of them do that either. i think what you're watching is propaganda. but he insisted that this was real life, and ended up walking away grumbling about it.

i cried to my girlfriend that night. i was reaching a limit that i couldn't exceed. she held me and suggested that maybe i should walk away. i should save up my money, and i could go back to school, and i could do something i enjoyed. i was comforted, i agreed, and i began to plan my escape.

not even two weeks later, my grandfather burst into my office again, and asked, what's all this he/they shit? at first, i was a bit confused about what he meant, but then i realized, ah, you mean my personal pronouns that i use?

he looked so angry, and he had this crazed, unrecognizable look in his eyes - the type of look he would give to people who hurt his family. it terrified me. yeah, whatever, it's in your emails, take that shit off of there, it doesn't belong in business emails. i could feel my anger rising, and my throat felt tight, but i still managed to say it's my email signature, so that when people call me or address me, it's the way i want them to, just like my first name. it's not a big deal, everyone does it. you don't have to have one with your email signature, but i include mine because it's important for communication.

i don't give a shit. you're a she, your name is -----, you do that on your own time, but you need to be professional. take it off your emails. i stared back, shocked and honestly frightened. i could say yes, i'll take my pronouns off my emails, then i could apologize and continue working there. but something in myself would die.

no, i said.

no? he repeated.

no, and this conversation is over. i closed my laptop and brushed past him. he sputtered and screamed at me to take it off my emails, but i ignored him and went home.

i discussed it with my therapist, my girlfriend, my mother, and my sister. i decided to suggest therapy to them. three days later, i sat both my grandparents and my mother down. we were outside, sitting on a patio set facing each other.

i tried to talk about what happened, and after hearing the way they ranted about transgender people, how they were bad people, how they were sinning, how they didn't want pronouns in their business, how i was ruining their business by doing so, how i was using them in order to gain more support for my mutual aid that helps trans youth, and how i'm not respecting them, i suggested family therapy. they rejected the idea, and became even more indignant.

i stressed that forbidding me to use my proper pronouns and my correct name (which was a legal name), was against the law, and they said they didn't give a shit about the law. what are you going to do, sue your own grandparents? my grandmother scoffed at me. no, but if i was anybody else that you were doing this to, they could sue you, and they would win. at this, she got up from her seat and began ranting about how disrespectful i was being to my grandparents. she grabbed my wrist and yanked me around while she yelled, and raised her hand to smack me.

now, i want to pause here and explain something. obviously, this is an extreme reaction. it's also a common reaction from my grandparents during arguments. i know some may baulk at the idea of your grandparents or parents using corporal punishment, but it was a common thing, and sadly, it is part of a larger issue - intergenerational trauma caused by residential schools. i don't think i've mentioned it yet, but my family and i are native.

much of my family grew up in the residential school system, a schooling system ran by the catholic church and the canadian government for indigenous children. this system was mandatory, and parents who tried to hide their children were punished by the law. it's main purpose was cultural genocide, and the nuns and priests that ran the school physically, sexually and emotionally abused native children. many kids died from experimentation, neglect, malnutrition, unsuitable living spaces and were also murdered. the rate of death at these schools were so high that they had cemeteries on site, and many children were buried in unmarked graves. in that environment, my great grandparents survived those schools with many wounds, and had their own children sent to these schools. this is also where my grandparents went to school. they didn't need to send their own children there as they moved away to the city in the late 70s. but even some of my mother's friends had gone to residential school. in that regard, my grandparents have been deeply damaged by the system and by their upbringing. they're emotionally stunted, they resort to screaming instead of communicating, and their last resort is to lash out, sometimes physically. it's not right, by any means, but i just want you to understand that there is more under the surface.

back to my grandmother. she's ready to strike me, she's got my wrist, and i've just had enough of this. the way they've responded so far is beyond unreasonable, and any call to common sense is lost on them.

i slowly slackened my arm away from her personal space and into mine, opened my palms in a relaxed way, and pulled them behind my head softly until she let go, then put my hands in my lap and softened my face, and said, hey, let's stay in our seats. she knew that i was attempting to de-escalate the situation, felt insulted, and lashed out verbally instead. she jabbed a finger in my direction and spat, you trans people are all the same.

with that last sentence in mind, i turned to my mother, who had sat silently in tears the entire time. i don't think this is going to work, i said to her.

then why don't you quit! my grandmother yelled from her seat.

my grandfather said, fine, _____ either you do what i told you to do or quit.

i turned to my grandfather. so as your manager, if i don't let you break the law and violate the conditions of your 3rd party certification, i have to quit?

my grandmother's voice was hoarse, and she was repeatedly screaming in the background, so they don't you quit! why don't you quit! quit then! we don't need you!

i maintained eye contact with my grandfather. are those your feelings as well? not just her feelings?

he was struggling to look at me. that's the way i feel, too.

i stared at him for a few seconds while my grandmother continued to scream and rant. finally, i said, okay. this is my two week notice. but you only have two weeks to change your mind - after that, i'm gone.

i wish i could say that he thought long and hard over the next two weeks, and decided that he had been too much. i wish they decided to reel in their opinions for the greater good of their relationship with their family. but their business (and their religious views i suppose) was ultimately more important to them. in two weeks, i set up another manager with all my tasks - properly, the way i should have been - and left.

my grandfather urged me to move out of the company housing within those two weeks in not so many words. my grandmother suggested i move far away, and told me not to tell anyone what happened. it was seconded by my mother, who believed telling everyone would be unprofessional. i was scared and uncertain, i decided to lie to everyone and tell them i quit because i wanted to go back to school, or to change my career. i had to move in with my mother, two hours away from my girlfriend, and i had to sell my truck to afford my car payments. it was very difficult to overcome the rift in confidence the whole thing caused me, but eventually with the help of therapy, my girlfriend and my family, i slowly gained that confidence back.

now, i'm slowly opening up to more people about what happened. eventually, i will tell everyone, but not as a way to bring my grandparents down. i don't want to be like them in that way. i want to tell people when i feel okay again, when i feel confident, and when i have more stability in my life again.

i've been able to move into a house that i rent with my girlfriend, my sister, and my sister's boyfriend. we're creating a fun and colourful space to live in, a place where we feel good. my sister is going back to school and my girlfriend and i are looking into it too. after a long break, i'm also resuming activities with my mutual aid program. i've also joined the board of directors at my city's pride activity planning non-profit organization. lots of exciting stuff.

i'm going to be 27 in about a month. i spent 14 years working for my grandfather, and although somedays it feels like a huge waste of time, i still have a bunch of skills that i otherwise wouldn't have ever learned. i only wish it translated to a better paying job in the city, haha.

when i think about what my grandmother said, you trans people are all the same, it doesn't fill me with as much hurt as it did that day. cuz now i think about all the wonderful trans people i've met in my life and i think to myself - yeah, that's okay. if trans people are all the same, let me have the same kindness, the same humility, the same bravery, and the same forgiveness. because at the end of the day, i value those things far more than i would ever value money or ego.

i hope this story wasn't too boring. i know i'm just one of thousands, maybe millions of trans people that go through the same stuff everyday. but i appreciate being listened to, so thank you. if you want to be friends, follow me! i'm trying to use tumblr more often.

see ya! :]

#transgender #trans joy #trans #lgbt #2slgbtqia+

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romirola · 9 months

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for the WIP game, lets seeee… can you tell us what inspired you most during the writing process, like maybe a certain song or Redacted video?

by the way I’ve got to tell you how much I admire you conviction I deeply envy your ability to have one WIP and fuckin knock that shit out the park my undiagnosed ADHD could literally not fathom it you beautiful mythical creature

-Lexi Sun ☀️

From this ask game!

@weightedblanketjoyfriend, thank you so much for this ask! It's always a joy to talk about fics, and to talk about the process of a fic!? You spoil me!! (And that's why you get a few short snippets!) Thank you for those kind words, but honestly, forcing myself to work on one WIP is less about conviction and more about my own sanity. It's too hard for me to keep all the plots in my head. I just gotta get my head down and focus on the one, or else I'll feel too pressured to make progress on everything and make progress on nothing, not to mention suck all the fun out of something I find to be so, so enjoyable. Onto my writing process for Balancing Act:

Most of my fics start with a bit of dialogue that I hear inside my head and really, really like. So much so, that I get obsessed with it. From there, I start to construct the immediate scene/context of that dialogue. Who said it? Why? To whom? What's happening to prompt that speech/situation? (Fun fact, I can point out the "starter" dialogue snippet of every fic I have written, because it just turns over and over and over again in my head before I even start drafting.) In the case of Balancing Act, the starter bit of dialogue was:

“It… It hurts!” they half-cried, half growled. Sharp teeth pushed up from out of their gums, shooting lightning bolts through their jowls. Angel sputtered and choked, overwhelmed with the onslaught of stretching and expanding every part of their body somehow experienced all at once. “Hurts bad… Make it stop! Please, I can’t…” They wrestled out of David’s arms, rolling over to the other corner of the bed. They teetered near the edge before toppling onto the ground in a wriggling heap. “Ahh!” David vaulted after them. “Angel!” He quickly ran to his whimpering mate. When David stepped to the side to reach Angel on the floor, he gasped sharply. An enormous black wolf lay sprawled out on the ground, awkwardly trying to balance on massive paws and twisting their sleek head in every direction to get a good look at their furry, beastly body.

Yeah, 9.9/10 times, my starter dialogue is hurt/comfort... Very predictable Romi behavior right there...

Eventually, a story starts to form around the moment, and I follow that story backwards and forewords. If I'm lucky, more "starter moments" form in my head and the connections between moments becomes clearer. For example, once I realized Angel struggled with a spontaneous shift, and that their instinctual confusion with experiencing the process would probably lead to the shift causing them immense pain, I also realized I'd love to see Angel thrive as alpha, which led to me to hear this little bit of dialogue:

Janelle’s smug grin faltered. She flinched away from Angel, her pegasus suddenly wanting to flee from the predator before her. “I…” “And say that breach happened in front of an unempowered human who decided to go hunting shifters for sport, trying to bring home a mythical pelt, thinking they’re going to be the one to show the world Bigfoot exists,” Angel pressed. “What then, if shifters were compromised? If bounties were put out on our heads by unempowered people who see shifters as animals? If shifters were hunted for sport, maybe legally, if the unempowered government were afraid of the half-monster things they'd fear you to be? Or, maybe instead, you want shifters all to be rounded up and caged like animals by some amatuer-wanna-biologists? Is that how you want to live? Trapped? Experimented on? Always tranqued out your mind? Kept as someone’s pet, with an electric collar to keep you on your best behavior?” Angel felt the wolf within howl and groan at the mere thought of the pack being subjected to such cruelty. <em>Pack. Protect. Threat. Shift. Shift now. Attack.</em> Their need to take down the pegasus and punish her for her insubordination was growing into a painful ache. How dare this woman be so cavalier about covert? Didn’t she understand the stakes? Didn’t she realize how brutally and power-hungry the unempowered part of society could be? Angel did.

Or sometimes, the moments are totally unrelated! And that's a fun part of the process, too, because it means I have to get creative to see how the moments lead into each other. For example one has nothing to do with alpha!Angel, but it wouldn't leave me alone until I figured out how to include it:

“Watch yourself,” Sweetheart warned though their yawn undercut the normal edge with which they spoke. “Because that cute little girl is going to grow up to be the strongest stealth anyone has ever seen.” They held out a threatening finger. “And if anyone tries to deter her from that path in any way, shape, or form, I'll rip their guts with my bare hands and cloak the evidence before they even knew they were missing organs.” Milo shuddered at the graphic imagery Sweetheart used. “Okay, okay.” He wiggled Sweetheart over so that they were tucked in close to his body, turned inward so that their head could rest on his chest. “I think someone is up way past their bedtime, and their exhaustion is once again making them a little bit too vengeful for their own good.” He brushed a hand across Sweetheart’s forehead, letting his fingers linger on their temple until Sweetheart's blinks began to slow. “You are so hot when you're violent,” he whispered softly enough so that only Sweetheart would hear. “I love you.”

It's the *moments*, Lexi! For me, the *moments* make the process. I am not one to draw inspiration from songs, though if there are any songs that you felt resonated with the fic, I would be very excited to hear your thoughts!

This was a long-winded answer to your question, so thank you for indulging me.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted fanfiction #redacted david #redacted davey #david shaw #redacted angel #redacted milo #milo greer #redacted sweetheart #thank you!#redacted power swap

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blubushie · 1 year

Note

Well I'm taking you at your word, then! Round 1: How did you come to do what you do? Was it a sudden impulse/ jumping off the deep end, or a slow and steady march into it? Have you always wanted to hunt nuisance animals for money or did you come by it while pursuing something else at first?

In short: How did Blu become bushie? *chin hands*

It was 100% a result of me losing my mind and going off the deep end.

FUN STORY TIME.

I don't like people. In this kinda way.

"EW. PEOPLE."

People are strange and cruel and nasty and sometimes they'll kill lizards in front of you when you're in year 4 because they know you like them. People do mean things to other things just to hurt someone they don't like, so I don't like people. And there's a fucking lot of people everywhere. There's a lot of people in Alice Springs. There's a LOT of people in California.

And I don't like people.

I'll admit that I got into my own head a lot (still do; I zone out often). And I got this idea, right? The Swagmen of Olde. They lived in the bush with a lot less, er, support than what we have now. Modern day swagman. Revive an old Australian tradition. So I was say fifteen and we got out for I think the term 1 holidays, aaand I was officially a missing child for a week because I packed my swag and disappeared into the Outback. I lived off bottled water, native wells, and my scroggin ran out on day 2 so after that I survived off quandong and witchetty grubs (note to readers, don't go into the Outback without a machete because trying to dig out witchetty grubs with a knife will blister your palms). Basically stayed alive by making my own shelter from shit my dad taught me, or things I read about in books.

Anyway the NTPF eventually put out a chopper for me and dragged me kicking and screaming to civilisation (I was so feral they put me in the fucking divvy van) and it sucked (also I made the newspaper, not the point). But in the 5 days I was gone I just... found some inner peace, I suppose? I was talk of the town and over the next year there were three or four additional attempts to return to the Outback until Mum (and the NTPF) got tired of me trying to dehydrate myself to death and brought us both back to California.

And my California town is bigger than Alice Springs. The town has a population of ~80,000 and there's people fucking everywhere and I hate it.

So I did the same thing I did in Australia and routinely went walkabout to the point our local sheriff knew me by name. It got to the point the LOCALS knew me by name. Half would call in and report me when I was out walking on behalf of my father, the other were of the wildchild mentality and had an unspoken agreement of "Do not send Blu back to that house." (My parents aren't abusive or anything, the locals were just of the idea that at 16 I was finding my own way in the world like kids did back in the 50s, which... Yeah, I was.)

I was given an ankle monitor because I was a flight risk, and I stopped leaving.

Anyway I left high school, got a job working part-time graveyard at Dad's insistence on doing something with my life, and on the side I started talking to the neighbours who know I'm one hell of a shot (courtesy of me recently winning a county sharpshooting competition). And they get this bright idea, right, they've got a lot of coyotes on their property trying to lift their sheep. So I start killing coyotes. They're proud of my work, they tell their neighbours, I start getting paid $25 per pig I kill on their property so long as they keep the bacon. Fine deal for everyone involved.

Between pest control and graveyard and some other odd jobs I made ~$15k over 6 months and I still had this niggling idea in my head of going bush permanently. At 18 I bought my FIRST ute and went east. And that ute was fucking old. Not a '99 Ford, an '87 Ford F-150 with over 300,000mi on it. I figured I'd get to somewhere around New Mexico before it'd cark it because that poor bastard didn't sound right from the get-go.

And cark it it did! But I also learned a few things from my dad, and so I jerry rigged that cunt (which consisted of removing the faulty ignition and replacing it with a fucking screwdriver). I got it started and working again. Got it to Texas, got the ignition fixed, and took jobs in the southwest for 6 months.

And then I got sick of the southwest. I saw the towns I frequented become gentrified. They lost their personality. The mum and pop stores shut down and were replaced with Targets and Walmarts and the land started seeing construction and in six months I'd lost all hope for it.

So I said "fuck this shit" and decided, for the fifth time in my life, that I was going to the Outback. I went back to California, got my passport and all my necessary identification, had a MASSIVE argument with my parents because they didn't want me to leave, but I left anyway and sold the ute and I took a bus to San Francisco, got lost, ended up sleeping in an alleyway at some point which isn't important except to remember that I fucking hate cities, but eventually got my way to the airport with about $10k in cash and debit and I got the first flight to Sydney.

All without a fucking mobile phone.

And I spent every dollar I had save for $2000 on a '99 F-150. And my first night I bought a bottle of plonk (strange buying booze at 19 years old). I smashed it in the bush over my ute's roo bar and I christened her Matilda, my steadfast companion who will come waltzing with me. And I drove her up to Brisbane, and then to Cairns, and while in Cairns I was stopped and detained because of my rifle, and then that was confiscated for a month until I got my firearms licence, and then I had to go BACK to Brisbane to pick it up again but before I did that I met a bloke and spent my last $2k on a camper for Matilda.

So now I'm stuck in Australia with not a dollar to my name, no means of getting money on account of not having a rifle, and a new-christened ute with a camper but no way to pay for petrol.

So I drive up the track, end up heading west until Matilda ran out of petrol, then walked 2km or so to the nearest station who happened to have cattle. Aussies take care of our own. Told the bloke there the story over tea and supper, he says I can help muster if I know how to ride a horse.

Boy, do I.

So I do that for a few months, say hooroo to him after he helps me siphon petrol into my tank, and I return to Brisbane and get my rifle back. I make my way back through QLD, stop for a week in Longreach, then get another job as a stockman. For maybe a year I was a full-fledged stockman and met my heart horse and I met the first girl I ever loved, but then I stopped being a stockman, worked at sea on a fishing vessel for a few months, come back, and ended up getting a job working some pastoral land near there dealing with a small pack of wild dogs who'd been lifting the bloke's sheep, and I start making a name for myself again as one hell of a sharpshooter. And then I got my commercial shooter's licence.

Rest is history!

#blu whos #bushman #enjoy my life story

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ask-andrew-montrose · 8 months

Note

Mr. Montrose, good evening.

I have not had the chance or reason to introduce myself to you before tonight: my name is Elland de Strontium, perhaps William has mentioned my name before, he is a dear friend. This brings me to the point of this letter.

I have heard from multiple of my friends that you have been rather mean to some of the people in the castle, for no apparent reason. Your actions and tongue tend to take you places people don't want you wanderi—

*There is a huge line of smudged ink where the next letter should have been, and the following line is written in very neat and calligraphic handwriting. There is a pretty swirl at the beginning of the letter "M".*

Monty, hi~ Saw you by the lake today reading a novel! Did not want to interrupt then but do let me know what books you like to read, maybe I'll share some of my favourites with you, too~ Happy hunting! Your ginger prey ♡

*The writing returns to its original form, much simpler but clearly written by a steady hand.*

Please, excuse Will, he keeps hijacking my letters. The last time it happened with Garreth the poor guy assumed Will had a crush on him.

My point is. I do not want to have any arguments with you but if it does come to you being rude to my friends again, I will not hesitate to have a conversation with you. I am aware of your attempts to apologize but the girls are right, you ought to try harder. As for Will... If I ever see him crying — I will find you, and having a conversation would be the least of your worries.

Do not take it as a threat: be mindful of your own actions and words.

Sincerely hope you heard me out, Elland de Strontium 🌙

Good Evening Elland,

What a pleasure that the first time we are speaking, it is with an adorable scolding as if I am a first year. It seems I shall have to be on my best behavior now that the big dogs have been set out on me. And to avoid the possibility of further duress - I assure you the above is sarcasm.

I would like to amend your statement to say that rather than 'being mean' I was simply being myself, admittedly my personality is slightly rough around the edges at first. An unfortunate by product of being raised in a rather competitive household, I'm afraid.

It is possible that while I focus on the competition, I lose sight of my manners. For that, I do not disagree with you...it is a ghastly shortcoming I can and do work to rectify. Not so much in response to your scolding, mind you, but more so in respect to those I have offended. It just takes me some time to warm up at first....but I would never genuinely want to hurt anyone. The line between banter and offense is one I toe far too closely, and I am aware of that. And I suppose I could use less middle fingers.

Although my words can be sharp, I will try to watch the focus of their blows. I may have had to use them as weapons for far too long that It has become too second nature.

It is true...I may not be the best at communicating my admiration for others at first. This does not mean that I don't consider them in a high regard.

More like a shot of whiskey, than everyone's cup of tea I suppose.

Regardless, you shouldn't need to worry about an additional conversation unless it's one on more jovial grounds which I look forward to having with you. I promise....I can be jovial when the mood strikes.

In the meantime, take my ......*COUGHS, CHOKES, ROLLS AROUND ON THE GROUND* apologies to the girls. And then I will apologize myself.

I also do not mind your hijacker's note. *Andrew smirks to himself at the words, clearly Will hadn't told Elland about every conversation they had* And he did? A crush? Hm. I wonder how that happened...

Please tell William I'd never mind his interruptions and have attached a copy of the reading I had with me earlier today if he's interested.

Until the next scolding,

Andrew

[Attached is a copy of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, quite worn and heavily annotated.]

#Elland #montrose answers

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reidsaurora · 2 years

Text

"Cliché" ~ D. Winchester (requested)

Summary: When Y/N tries (and miserably fails) to convince herself that she hates Dean, things take a much different turn than she'd anticipated.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,177 (ik i'm so far off word count I'm sorry)

Content Warning: very mild swearing, normal SPN violence (a vamp gets decapitated but it's not too heavily detailed), food consumption by Reader and Dean, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Friends to Lovers, a lil bit of Angst ig

Extra Notes: uh AU where Sam isn't here? i guess we can just pretend this takes place while Sam is in college 😭🤣

Based On the Prompt: Person A tries to hate Person B so A can try (and miserably fail) to convince themself they aren't in love with B but B could never hate them.

Features the One-Liner: "Is that my boxers you're wearing? With a sports bra?"

Originally Written/Re-Written: 05/01/2022 and 05/15/2022

Supernatural masterlist can be found here!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

I loathed Dean.

Or, at least that's what I was trying to convince myself, repeating that mantra quietly in the mirror.

"I loathe him. I loathe him. I loathe him."

After all, he clearly didn't want me. Why should I keep pretending I wanted him?

In the three years I'd been hunting with Dean, not once had he looked at me the way he looked at all those random girls in random bars across random cities in America. Not once in the year it had been since I realized I had a crush on him had he noticed the way I acted around him: batting my eyelashes a couple extra times when I spoke to him, lingering behind in the doorway of my motel room to make sure he'd made it to his room in one piece, certainly not the prolonged eye contact or the glances I'd steal of him when he was turned away.

"Y/N?" I heard that all too familiar stupid (and sexy) voice call from outside the door to my room.

"Coming!" I called back, attempting to sound annoyed, or put out, or some expression conveying my hatred for Dean.

I knew it was stupid. I knew I should've just told Dean point blankly how I felt about him. But I couldn't bear the idea of possibly losing our friendship—possibly losing Dean—if things went south.

I pulled on my sweater and grabbed my duffel, strutting over to the door. "Hey," I said in an almost monotone voice.

"Hey," he greeted in his everyday, normal tone. "You ready to go?"

"Mhm," I answered with a nod, swiftly closing the door behind me.

Soon enough, we'd made it to the Impala, ready to find our next case. I figured out I might have closed my door a little too hard when Dean asked, "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," I answered, promptly buckling myself in.

"OK, what's with you?" he asked point blankly.

"Nothing, I'm fine!" I retorted, throwing my hands up. "Just drive, Dean."

"I'm not starting this car until you explain to me why you're mad at me."

"I just told you I'm fine!"

"OK, I may do a pretty crappy job at keeping a girlfriend, but I have learned over the years that when a woman says, 'I'm fine,' it never actually means that she's fine," he rebutted.

"Just drive," I groaned, turning to face the window.

"Fine," he grumbled under his breath, finally starting the car and speeding off toward the highway.

☆☆☆

"Home sweet home," Dean sighed, throwing his bag to the side and jumping onto his bed.

"Remind me again why we don't take cases at nice hotels more often," I laughed lightly, starfish-ing onto my own bed.

Dean rolled onto his side, facing me. He had a smile on his lips, that signature, goofy, Dean smile.

"What?" I asked, rolling over to fully face him.

"Nothing," he replied, that stupid grin still plastered on his face.

"You're not gonna give me that look and say that it's nothing, Dean Winchester," I demanded, "Tell me what's up."

"Well, that's something, coming from you."

My eyebrows creased in a mixture of confusion and accusation. "What are you talking about?"

"Just the way you treated me earlier versus how you're treating me now," he explained, rolling onto his back and looking up at the roof. "I guess I underestimated what a good nap in the car could do to a person."

I scoffed, hopping up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, sitting up to face me.

"I need some air," I grumbled.

He let out a long, surrendering breath through his nose. "I'm gonna go round us up some grub. Try not to come back too late. Make sure you take your key with you."

I didn't say it, but my brain was filled with petty thoughts of, "You aren't the boss of me."

He turned to take one last look at me. "I'd prefer if you'd stay here since I don't want you getting killed by the rogue vamp on our hands, but even if you don't stay here, just please promise that you'll be careful."

I sighed, but reluctantly nodded.

And with that, he grabbed his wallet from the bedside table and marched out the door of the hotel room.

I sat back on the bed, running my hands through my disheveled hair. I took a deep breath in, deciding that my mantra wasn't going to stop my feelings for Dean, and treating him like an asshole surely wasn't going to fix things either.

I decided that the best way to blow off steam was heading toward the hotel pool. It was then that I grabbed my duffel bag, rummaging through it to find some swim-appropriate clothing.

"Great," I exhaled in frustration upon realizing I'd lost my favorite shorts.

I thought for a moment, pondering whether a swim was even worth it at this point, but deciding it was the principal of the thing. Out of habit, I took a quick glance around the room, locking eyes with Dean's bag.

"Am I really-"

Apparently, the answer was yes, because one minute, I was rummaging through his bag and the next thing I knew, I was walking into the indoor pool room, sporting a pair of Dean's black boxers and one of my sports bras, carrying a hotel towel over my shoulder.

I tossed the towel onto one of the poolside chaises, sliding off my shoes beside it. I noticed the room was completely empty, just the way I liked. I thought for a moment, attempting to decide between jumping in or taking the steps.

I sighed contently, deciding the diving board was the way I wanted to go.

The feeling of the cold water was enough to wash off both the sweat from that blazing hot, Arizona day and the resentment I'd felt toward Dean earlier that day.

When I surfaced, I was met with the sight of a man. I could've sworn I was the only one in the pool room.

"You're an excellent diver," he observed.

"Thanks. I've been on the swim team since I was a little girl," I told him, floating away on my back.

"And an excellent floater," he chuckled.

I didn't know exactly what it was, but something seemed off about this man. I had to consider all my possibilities, considering my profession. Not a demon, no black eyes. Wasn't a crocotta, no strange phone calls. I didn't think he was a rugaru, he didn't appear to want to eat me.

THWACK!!

I let out a scream as his head fell from his shoulders, the body flumping over soon after. As I shrieked, I realized Dean had been hiding behind the man, who I then realized was the rogue vampire.

"Shh, it's me," Dean stopped me from screaming.

I pushed myself up before exiting the pool, still attempting to slow my breathing. "Please give me a warning next time you're gonna silently decapitate a vamp in front of me," I complained.

Dean bent down, lifting the now dead guy's upper lip. "Yep, extra set of teeth."

"How'd you know?" I asked, grabbing my towel.

"I didn't. I just took a chance on the way he was treating you."

I couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious. I also couldn't tell if I was supposed to be taking that as him being overprotective of me or if I'd done that by accident.

I tried not to let my mind wander too much, promptly putting my focus back on drying off and getting my shoes back on.

"Hey, are those my boxers? With a sports bra?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

I wasn't quite sure how to answer—in fact, I was flabbergasted that he'd brought it up.

Changing the subject, I said, "You might wanna get rid of that before anyone sees it."

☆☆☆

A little while after my shower (and presumably after Dean had disposed of the vamp's body), I found myself eating a fast food burger on my bed, across from Dean who was doing the exact same thing. He took another bite, focused intently on the SpongeBob episode in front of him.

"Hey, Dean," I spoke up, placing my burger back in its wrapper.

"Yeah?" he asked, muting the TV and turning to face me.

I took an internal deep breath in and out, repeating all sorts of positive mantras to myself. "I want to apologize for earlier."

"Which part?" he chuckled before taking a sip of soda.

"All of it. I shouldn't have treated you like crap and I'm sorry."

"It's OK," he said nonchalantly, like nothing had happened. Although, it could've been because he was preoccupied with trying to find his fries in the food bag.

"No, it's not. I yelled at you, I ignored you, and not that it matters, I stole your underwear, all because I l-"

I stopped myself. I couldn't believe I almost said that out loud.

"Hmm?" he looked up to face me, acting as though he was actually curious about the end of that sentence.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it," I tried to play it off.

"No, seriously, what is it?" he asked casually, finishing up his burger.

I took a deep breath, facing the fact that it was now or never. "Dean, can I be honest with you?"

"You've never given me a reason to think you were lying to me before."

I felt the air leaving my throat and lungs. It felt like I'd pass out the second I managed to get my confession away from my tongue. "I like you, Dean. I have for a while."

He stopped mid-fry, nearly dropping the box of fries onto his lap. "You huh?"

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I repeatedly thought as I mentally face-palmed. "I know. Crazy, right?" I managed to say, followed by an awkward chuckle.

"No, there's nothing wrong with that. It's just… Why me?"

I felt something in the pit of my stomach, an unidentifiable something. It wasn't relief from getting it off my chest, and it wasn't excitement from the fact that he hadn't kicked me out or ran away yet. It was… almost like sadness. I reckoned it was from his question. "Why me?"

Oh, Dean, if only you knew why it was you.

"Well, why not? I mean, you're handsome, you've always been sweet to me, you're amazing. Not just at the job but at anything you put your mind to," I explained. "I think the better is why I'd ever think you'd want me."

This time he sighed, almost as nervously as I had earlier. "That's the thing, Y/N. I've always wanted you. I never said anything because you deserve better than me."

I was taken aback by his words, to say the least. I wanted to comfortingly hug him, kiss him, and ask him why, all at the same time.

Apparently, the second one got the best of me, because the next thing I knew, I was lifting his chin and leaving a delicate kiss on his lips.

You always hear about the stereotype where guys lead the first kiss. Well, this wasn't like the clichés.

For one, I'd been the one to lift his face by the chin, not the other way around. Secondly, his lips were weak, like he was tired. Definitely not someone who was yearning to kiss someone. Actually, it was more like he was yearning to be kissed. And third, he allowed himself to pull away first, since I'd initiated the kiss.

"Dean Winchester, I have spent every day for the last year wanting to do that very action. If you'd told me you wanted the same, I would have done it."

"You deserve better than me. That's the whole reason I never said anything," he clarified once more.

"I don't care. I love you just the way you are," I said, my hand moving from his chin to his cheek.

"You shouldn't settle, Y/N. You should find a good man who can treat you the way you deserve. Not a hunter who hops from place to place, lying his way through everything. There's still a chance for you to get out of this life."

I pondered for a moment, my mind thinking of a million things to say. "Hey, I've got an idea," was what I landed on.

"Shoot."

"As cliché as it sounds, we could always improve ourselves for each other. Then either we're both settling or neither of us is settling."

"I think I'm willing to try that."

We kissed again, all the same love and emotion from before running rampant throughout my entire body.

My mind settled on two things: one, that I never wanted to stop kissing Dean. And two, I was willing to improve every aspect of myself for him, because I loved him with my whole being.

And if other people were going to consider all that cliché, I was willing to seem like an entire romance novel.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Thank you so much for both the request and for being so understanding, @darkloverfox!! I am so sorry it took so long but I hope the outcome was worth the wait! You've been so understanding and kind and I am so thankful for that 🥺❤️

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sidhewrites · 8 months

Text

Chapter 7! We get to meet Josie, but, more importantly, we get to meet Renfield. Cat Incoming!

Project Info

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

I nearly slip and fall in the mud on my way out of the graveyard, stopping just long enough to let a part-timer know I was heading out for a bit before sprinting through the gate, past the apartment block and into downtown to Mean Mug.

She's sat with two coffees at our table, the one we'd spent so long talking and laughing and staring into each other's eyes. But today is just one more failure in a pattern of [not being on time.] I don't know how it happens. I swear I try, but any time we make plans, I forget, or I get distracted, and I show up late.

I'm not going to pretend I'm the only wronged party here. Josie was the one who pulled the plug on our relationship, and I'm trying not to blame her for it. But I also see the way she purses her lips and checks her phone -- that hint of frustration she tries to subdue until it festers into bitterness -- and it sparks an old frustration in me that I have to fight back.

I swallow it. We're being civil today. I swallow my anger and waltz in with a smile. "What do you know, Jo?"

"Hey, Kaz." She looks at me with an uncertain smile that fades quickly.

"What's up?"

"Um..." She gestures vaguely, and sighs in that specific way that tells me I've missed something important.

I bite back the urge to snap. What is it this time? Look. I'm air headed. My skills lay in organizing other people's schedules, landscaping a historical site, and having big muscles. It took a while to figure out how to read her unspoken messages and the intricacies of every roll of her beautiful brown eyes, but I had yet to turn into a mind-reader.

[“Where’s the box?”]

Shit. God Jesus damn it shit. In my rush to get over here, I'd completely forgotten our whole reason for meeting. "Look, Josie, I..." I groan. There's no good excuse, but I try anyway. "It's been... you know, a real long day, and I completely forgot."

"I bet." She nods. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have written it down, but there was the tree trimming to schedule, and Mr. Ngo's wife was sick--"

"Oh no. Is Phan okay?"

"She's doing better, but he's taking a few days off to look at her."

"Okay, yeah. Keep going."

"So I had to give an interview for the ghost hunters--"

"The what?"

Shit.

I had also, incidentally, been briefed on the NDA Mr. Ngo had signed to let the Archivists work in relative anonymity here. [maybe? hm.]

I groan, but make myself answer her. "There's some guys here looking into a bunch of local legends. They're going to take a few ghost tours, and they spent the day going around the graveyard with a tour guide to see the historically significant graves, and..."

"And...?" Her eyes shine.

"And they're spending a few nights ghost hunting in the graveyard, and I have to supervise."

"And...?"

"And...that includes tonight?"

"And...?" She looks me dead in the eye.

This time, I know what she means. "And it's the Haunted Archivists."

I wince as she shrieks, a hand over her mouth. "I knew it! I knew it. Oh my god, I'm so jealous." She hesitates, and I know she's trying to decide whether or not to ask me for a big, important favor.

"Absolutely not," I say, before she has a chance. "Mr. Ngo trusts me to handle things while he's away, and I'm not going to let someone into the graveyard at night!" Not to mention, I was still on thin ice with the archivists.

"You don't have to. Just leave the gate open just a smidge."

"No." She pouts, batting her eyes at me.

"Can I--"

I make a point of slurping loudly.

Josie groans, but accepts her fate.

Sunset falls on the graveyard, old trees and headstones casting strangely shaped shadows across the grass. I haven't had a chance to touch up that one portion, and wince. I take pride in my work, and this looks sloppy, half-finished. Still, nobody else seems to care. More than anything, they just grumble as I usher them out and lock the gate.

"Sorry, guys. You can visit again tomorrow."

There's some closing work to do -- sweeping the front of the office space, collecting any trash left over. It's nearing nine when I'm done, which means the Haunted Archivists are on their way for call time.

[transition, tbh could take out.]

A brief history of the Ouija board. [fill in with the ouija board history.]

And now, thanks to Hasbro and Hollywood's combined efforts, I'm sitting in a graveyard at the end of my latest double shift, loaded up on caffeine, watching a bunch of people figure out the best lighting by which to contact the dead.

"Do you guys need me for anything, or...?" I gesture helplessly. I feel useless standing around, but no visitors are allowed to be unsupervised at night, even if they do have filming permits.

"Um...No? Not really, sorry." Lourdes shrugs, but I don't think she's sorry.

"How long do you guys think you'll be setting up for? There's a patch of grass over there that I didn't get to mow this week, and I don't want to let it get much taller."

"You mow the grass at night?"

"Sure. I mean -- usually I do it at four or five in the morning, but I can make do."

[They say no, and instead she goes to tend to some of the flowers around the headstones, straightening them and brushing off debris.]

She doesn't text back right away. Weird, but not unheard of. I leave it be, and turn on the lawnmower and take care of what I can before Maddie lets me know it's time to start filming. I guess I'm making too much noise for the sound tech, so instead I follow Maddie back to the circle of light where the rest of the Archivists are finding their places.

I stop just short of the light as my phone rings, and pull it out to check if Mr. Ngo needs anything. But it's only Josie. Of course. I groan, and reject the call, instead sending a text to let her know I have to turn my phone on silent when cameras are rolling.

Mick and Lourdes (who i s2g need better names) sit on the ground on either side of their ouija board

and as theyre filming, another call this one with the emergency ringtonew. "Josie, I told you, I'm busy with a film crew tonight." I'm half expecting her to tell me she's outside one of the gates and to pretty please let her in.

Instead, she's in tears. I can barely make out what she's saying, and I have to try a couple times to get her to calm down enough to speak in words.

I mouth an apology to the team and step away to continue the call. "Josie, it's okay. I'm here. Just tell me what's wrong."

"It's -- It's Renfield," she manages to cry out. "He's gone."

"What?"

My heart drops. Josie's ancient rescue cat, a fluffy black beast named Renfield. [something]

"What happened? Did you see where he went?"

"No -- I left the door open too long after bringing my box in, and he must have just..." She dissolved into tears once more.

"Okay, Josie, I'll help look for him. I promise. I can't... go too far right now, but I'll look around the apartment block, okay?"

"Okay."

I excuse myself to go look around the block closest to the graveyard, glancing back every now and then to ensure the lights and film crew hadn't gone too far. It wasn't going to be easy to find a black cat in the middle of the night, but I hoped sweeping my phone's flashlight around would be enough to catch his eyes reflecting in the shadows. But after a half hour of no luck, I feel obligated to return to the graveyard and check in on the film crew.

I'm just past the east gate when a shadow bolts past me. It's as tall as my shins, trailing a familiar smell of fur and tuna, and I take off after it without a thought.

Renfield's got his ears flat against his head, fur bristled so he looks twice as big as usual, but he's moving faster than I'd ever seen him go. I chase him across the green, twisting and turning through headstones, and part of me realizes that if it wasn't for my ex-girlfriend's ancient cat moving at super-feline speed, this would have been a fantastic workout.

"Come on, Renfield! Stop running!"

He doesn't listen. Instead, he bolts to the side, taking off towards the sphere of light where the Haunted Archivists have their ouija board set up. Lourdes and Mick sit on either side, hands on the planchette, but they're all watching with horror as Renfield nears the set.

"Catch him! Someone catch him!" I yell.

One of the gaffers makes a brave effort, but Renfield evades his grasp. He leaps between the two hosts, knocking the ouija board to the side and sending the planchette flying before disappearing into the dark.

"Sorry!" I yell, leaping after him, and finally tracking him to a large grave towards the back corner of the graveyard in the corner I hadn't managed to mow the other day. The grass is taller here, the headstones more faded and weathered.

He's snarling and hissing. It's more active than Renfield has been in years, and I hesitate, glancing around to make sure that nobody else is close enough to scare him. I flinch, catching sight of a shadowy figure over my shoulder, but it's nobody. Just a tree in the dark. I breathe out slowly, and bend down. "Renfield, it's me. Hi baby boy." He presses himself up against the wall, eyes bright and wild. "Come on, little boy, it's okay. It's me. Wanna smell?"

He hisses as my hand gets closer, but I must get close enough for Renfield to catch a whiff. He looks around, eyes fixated on a point over my shoulder, and refuses to move.

"What is it? Come on, it's just me." I look back anyway, but there's nothing there but the shadowy tree once more, naked branches casting strange shadows over the headstone. I recognize it as the place I'd first met Lucy, but it seems she decided against coming tonight. I force myself to ignore the disappointment, and tell myself I'm relieved instead. The last thing I needed was a troublemaker on top of everything else.

"There's nobody there, Renfield. Come on, it's okay. Come on."

Renfield's ears swivel towards me, and finally, he tears his eyes away from the tree and darts forward into my lap.

"There we go, good boy. Baby boy, you're okay." I hold him close, running a hand through his fur. "I've got him!" I shout over my shoulder, and the film crew's relieved cries echo over the graveyard.

He's too old to vocalize properly, but I recognize his snuffling and wheezing as his version of pleading meows. Poor thing hadn't been outside since he turned twelve a few years ago. He must be terrified.

I pause, looking to the side one last time. The tree remains a tree with the same heavy shadows as always.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you home." I press a kiss to the top of his head, and shift my weight, holding him with one arm to fish out my phone.

Josie picks up on the first ring. "Kaz?"

"I got him. He was in the graveyard."

"Oh thank god!" She starts crying all over again, but I hear the relief in her voice. "Is he okay?"

"A little scared, but nothing a good cuddle won't solve. Right, little man?" I hold the phone up to Renfield's face. He sniffs it, and wheezes his old, squeaky meow. "That's right, Renfield. We're taking you back to your mom."

Actually, hold that thought.

I glance over to the Haunted Archivists. Maddie held the ouija board awkwardly, but all eyes were on me.

Screw it. They hated me enough as it was.

I hold the phone up to my ear again, and say, "Josie, do you wanna come meet me down at the graveyard?"

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literallyjusttoa · 2 years

Text

Personal Entry #2

I met with Artemis today, and it was great. The first thing is she asked me to meet her! Usually I’m the one randomly dropping in on her hunts for some quality twin bonding time, so this was quite the change of pace. Plus, we met up in the Daintree Rainforest, and that place is absolutely gorgeous. So already, we’re off to a great start.

Then, Artemis actually asked me to recite some poetry! I never thought I'd see the day. I haven’t written anything in a while (sue me, I’m detoxing after the trials) so I just stuck to my haikus from my time as a mortal. I don’t think she really appreciated the poems, but she sat through my retellings, which is more than I ever usually get from her, or anyone else in the family for that matter.

And then, and then, she asks me how the music industry is doing. At this point, she’s becoming a bit suspicious. I don’t think Artemis has shown this much interest in my arts since we were very small children. But never let it be said that I am not always willing to gossip about the newest songwriter scandal. There’s a reason the Muses and I can spend hours speaking in the Olympian gardens. So I got going about the newest hit single that totally wasn’t about the singer’s last ex, and didn’t even realize I was falling into my sister’s sneaky trap. You’d think after 4,000 years of having a twin I would recognize the scheming, but I guess my time away as a mortal has dulled my perception.

So about fifteen minutes into my tirade (I know, I know, I talk a lot, but I get carried away with music drama alright! The stories are so interesting!) Artemis interrupts and starts to steer the conversation somewhere else. Did all of this happen while you were mortal? She wonders. You would’ve been in Camp Jupiter around then, right? She mentions. Are you adjusting well back in Olympus? She straight up asks, apparently sick of me dodging and weaving around her attempts at subtlety.

And listen, I know my sister. I know she doesn’t like to just ask people what’s wrong, and I know she knows I would never answer that question anyways. Artemis and I differ in many ways, but we both have a strong aversion to that kind of vulnerability. So I know when she asks “Are you adjusting well” she means I’m worried about you. And I appreciate that, I really do! But I can’t deal with someone worrying about me right now.

My sister’s worry feels like someone peeking over my shoulder while I'm trying to complete a brain surgery (I’ve done this before, BAD IDEA) . She means well, but it’s just extra pressure. It makes part of me want to flee like a startled deer. And that’s what I ended up doing. I blurted out some lame response about being perfectly fine in Olympus and OMG I actually forgot I have a meeting with the Muses I need to get to so sorry about that bye! It was honestly embarrassing, and I know Artemis knows that I was being a big fat liar. I can never fool Artemis, she’s known me for far too long. The people who talk about the mortifying ordeal of being known all definitely have twins.

It was a mess. I’m a mess, and I hate the idea of my sister seeing that. She deserves better than my melodrama.

You know what, I’ll deal with it later. I need to talk to the Muses so that I’ll have at least a semi-believable alibi for Artemis. And maybe I can set up something to keep her away for a bit longer.

I know what you’re thinking, non-existent readers: Apollo how could you! She’s your twin! And I know, I know okay! But I just need some time to get myself together. Hopefully next time we speak, I can tell Artemis everything’s fine on Olympus and actually mean it.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #dark!apollo au #au #personal entries #tbh this is probably the happiest entry we're gonna get #whoops #also they're getting longer!!! I have more inspiration as things are picking up in my brain #i'm excited :D

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inkabelledesigns · 9 months

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Today Kat is talking about FNAF's storytelling. Warning, spoilers for the Ruin DLC under the cut.

So I have a small bone to pick with the FNAF Ruin DLC. And this may surprise you, since I don't interact with the Fnaf fandom in the slightest. You wouldn't think I'd even looked at this thing, but surprise, I did! I have friends who are into it, so I loosely keep up so I can understand what they're talking about. But also there is a small part of me that's started to enjoy it, as much as I don't like admitting to it. Fnaf FREAKED me out when the series originally started, I hated it with a passion, and the stuff that I like from it is mostly more recent games. Like my favorite characters are Ballora, Mr. Hippo, the Daycare Attendants, and most of the Glamrocks, I think that tells you most of what you need to know. Ironically, I have an interest in audio animatronics now, thanks to a lot of the TPM videos of Disney animatronics and how they work. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Fnaf has never been known for having award winning writing, and I know that nobody expects the writing to be great at this point, but I just, I can't deal with this glaring issue in Ruin. And let me say that I LOVED a lot of what Ruin brought to the table, the AR world was such an interesting concept and mechanic, and it gives us so much to think about in the way of Vanny. I loved Helpi, I loved how suspicious he and the Gregory mimic were, I loved Roxy, I LOVED LOVED LOVED Eclipse, oh my gosh yes. Heck, the telling of Monty's band backstory was SO CUTE too, really loved everything they did with the cardboard cutouts in this one, that was some effective storytelling. And I loved Cassie, she was such a fun character to follow, and her voice acting was top notch. There were a few areas where it was a little off, but that's not on the actor, that's on the voice direction. I'm delighted that she was so emotive and sassy! I too would be so done if I were trying to rescue my friend but kept getting hunted by broken animatronics.

But by the time we get to the end of the game, even though I loved everything else, the enemy we faced really left me baffled (and no it's not because of the book stuff, I have no issue with that today). Which led to this gem of a quote to one of my friends.

"The weakness of one of the most powerful enemies in all of Fnaf: concrete."

You're telling me this mimic robot can mess with Helpi and the world of AR, a mechanic that actively LETS YOU WALK THROUGH WALLS, but it can't clear a singular wall of concrete??? No, I don't buy it. I don't expect great stories from Fnaf, but this is a new level of not thought through. There is no reason this thing couldn't break out of its prison without us. Especially if it does comply with the book canon of being able to contort and fit into costumes with a variety of shapes, how can it not get out? Additionally, I really don't love the design of its mascot costumes. They don't look like they fit in this world at all. And maybe it's to try and push some new designs for a new game or DLC, but it just, isn't working for me. I mean the way the eyes on the lion one match the stylization of Glitchtrap's head, which was good, but that's my only good note. And that's not even getting into the millions of questions about HOW this robot has a bunch of FABRIC costumes that are mostly in tact in an establishment that was burned down FROM THE BASEMENT AREA. If it's been locked down there for so long, how does it have these in as good of condition as they're in? What were they used for before this? Could we have gotten any set dressing like posters of old characters down in this area to maybe foreshadow/explain this? Maybe a desk with prototype mascot designs? Just, SOMETHING so it's not out of left field. Some things are good when they come out of nowhere, but this did not do it for me.

I'll probably let this go over time and go back to my regularly scheduled enjoyment of mutuals posting and reblogging the daycare attendants. This has just been bugging me all week, and I wanted to talk about it. I acknowledge that I like a lot of things where the writing isn't exactly great, and it doesn't have to be the best in the world to be effective or enjoyable. But this actively killed the experience for me by the end. And I'm annoyed I feel that way, because the rest of this WAS really fun. I'd say this is one of the times I enjoyed FNAF the most, it just didn't stick the landing. Couldn't keep my suspension of disbelief.

#fnaf #fnaf ruin #fnaf ruin spoilers #fnaf dlc #security breach ruin #fnaf security breach ruin #fnaf spoilers

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basic204 · 5 months

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Super Class

Fuck every single one of those bastards.

I remember the day it happened. The day my life was ruined. We were taking notes on the French Revolution when Richard Kissinger sneezed and electricity crackled out of his nose, Allison Fletcher's eraser flew up into her hand when she went to pick it up, and Hannah Dubel turned invisible not even a second later.

The class erupted into chaos with everyone suddenly discovering their newfound powers by the second. Yohan O'Connor kept shooting laser beams out of his eyes in random directions, Juna Lim was growing tall enough to hit the ceiling and then shrinking to the size of a bat, and Tommy Tucker kept crushing pencils like paper between his fingers in stupified awe.

"Henry!" My friend Tate Miller said giddily to me as if Christmas had come. "Look! Look! Look what I can do!"

He stuck out his palm and then ice suddenly formed in the middle.

"Cool!" I said excitedly. "I can't believe it! We're all getting powers!"

"Yeah! What can you do Henry?!"

"I dunno yet!" I said. "I'm still trying to figure it out."

His looked at me puzzled and his smile dropped. That's when the bullying began.

The media pounced on it like starving bloodhounds. They dubbed us "class super" and instantly hit national media.

The school was quick to act. We were suddenly living gold bars to them. Enrollment soared, investors begged for the school to take their money. The school became private. Our class was treated like gods and was basically allowed to do anything we wanted as long as we were still technically enrolled. Classmates began taking hero apprenticeships, movie roles, and going on talk shows.

Except me.

It caught on pretty quickly that I was the only one out of them to still be normal. They bullied me mercilessly. I think they were jealous I could still be a normal student and used me to relieve stress from their sudden stressful hero lives. But I don't care. Fuck them.

It was like a flip switched. They beat me. Humiliated me. Spat on me. Tortured me. Everyday was hell.

Hannah would turn invisible and pull my pants down. Jason Kurd would shoot fire balls at my feet and laugh, telling me to "dance!" Karen Deen would mind control me to do anything she wanted, from eating feces to making me act like a chihuahua. Tommy liked to punch me until I puked. All of them took part in something. The worse was when Tate and Richard played "Henry Hunting". They'd give me five minutes to run, then brutally hunt me down, drag me to the bathroom, then dunk my head in the toilet. Bonus points if their was already shit in it.Whenever I sobbed and begged them to stop, they mimicked my cries and laughed.

The principal must have figured I was their stress ball. He paid my parents big bucks to keep me from transferring. When I pleaded to them to not make me go while covered in bruises and burns, Dad would tut tut and say, "Henry, toughen up and be a man. You're being such a drama queen." Then go on luxury vacations with Mom. It only stopped when tried to kill myself. I attempted before, but this time was bad enough to land me in the hospital. Initially my parents wanted to send me back but I promised I'd kill myself for real if I did. They ended up kicking me out of the house.

And you know what happened to my classmates? They went on with their lives and graduated. They became celebrities. Actors. Heros. They had fan clubs. They had midnight specials. Riches. Awards. Admiration. Everything.

I had nothing. I dropped out. I was homeless while they lived it up. It was unfair. Eventually I tried to sell my story to the media but no one believed me. The school had worked hard to cover up my abuse. I hated them with all my soul but tried to get on with my life and live peacefully for the next ten years.

Until I found out about the reunion.

I saw a news reporter on televison saying this would be the first time the entire super class would meet up in person since highschool. My heart flamed. The "whole class" huh? I hadn't received an invitation. I shouldn't of cared, but the well of anger and injustice that had been swelling in me for years bubbled up. Why didn't I stop by for a visit?

The reunion was held in our old school gym. But it looked more like a fancy ball than a gym. It was pimped out with long expensive tables of every kind of food you could imagine, with silk banisters individually embroidered to have every classmate's face on them, except mine. There was a delicate ice fountain in the middle of the room and servers ran expertly to and fro, assisting guests. The media was banned from entering so the guests could have some peace to catch up.

They weren't expecting me to show up. I took satisfaction in their shocked faces when I came through the front door, dressed in a shabby grey suit. I smiled when I saw their faces. It made me burn with anger.

"Hello!" I waved to everyone enthusiastically. " Remember me guys?" Everyone looked uncomfortable.

I went up to the snack table and spotted Hannah Dubel.

"Hey Hannah! Long time no see."

She nodded uncomfortably in her expensive designer dress and didn't look at me.

"Good to see you too! Hey, remember when you used to forcibly pants me in front of others? I do, fun times!"

She said nothing.

"Ahaha of course. Stay quiet. What a great hero you are! Hey, you know what's strange? You guys actually forgot to send me an invitation! How funny huh?"

Richard stepped in between us. I knew from the news he had married Hannah. He was wearing his signature red and white hero outfit. The rest of our classmates watched on uneasily.

"That's enough Henry." He said. He too wouldn't look me in the eyes.

I gave him a hateful smile and clenched my fists.

"Hey, Dick, how've you been?" I said cheerfully, "heard you won the nobel peace prize? Hey, I'm hurt though. You didn't mention me in your speech! What with all the fun games we've played together?"

"You're acting immature." He said.

"Oh, I'm acting immature?" I snapped. "Hey, remember all the times I tried to commit suicide after you bullied me? Was it fun to watch?"

He looked alarmed and guilty but quickly looked away.

"What do you want Henry? An apology? We're sorry."

"No your not!" I hissed. "Fuck you guys. Fuck you for ruining my life."

I punched him. It didn't do much.

"Will fighting us make you feel better? Stop it Henry." He said.

I tried punching him again. I was even more furious how it didn't hurt him. I tried punching Hannah. This time He shoved me into the table.

It's embarrassing to say, but I died. The way the back of my neck hit they table snapped my neck. I thought that'd be it of my miserable life.

But I woke up. Cold, naked, and cut up in a morgue. I was lucky they didn't bury me. I'd learn later it was because they wanted to dissect me to try and understand why I was the only one who didn't gain powers back then.

I sat up on a surgical table, dazed, and looked down at my stomach. It was sliced open, and my guts plopped out gently onto the floor in a squishy mess. I was confused, and then I felt a warmth, and the slit in my stomach began to close.

It took a while for my foggy brain to process what was going on. I was in a morgue, my stomach had been cut open, and, it was healing? Then everything clicked. I laughed mirthlessly.

All this time- guess I did have a power!

#Super Class #superhero #super hero #supervillain #orgin #writing promt

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 1 year

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Aziraphale/Crowley Alien (the movie franchise not just the concept of an alien) au? Leaving it up to you whether either of them are a xenomorph.

The absolute hilarity of one of them being a xenomorph is great, but I'm not sure if I could write that without making myself laugh the whole time.

But I can write them trapped in isolation and trying to find a damn way to escape one tho!

Warning: mentions of death, injury, blood

(was tempted to make one of them an android cause I know there are a number of them in the series, but I decided to keep it vague and leave it up to the reader to decide who is)

On with the fic!

"It got Hastur." Crowley said quietly, panting.

Aziraphale frowned deeply, the blood splatter across Crowley's clothes and skin was a dead giveaway, but the haunted look on his face screamed louder that what he witnessed was something he'd never forget. "It's picking us off one by one."

"I think it's playin' with us. It's not a hunt, this is a game, like a damn cat tryin' to mess with a mouse before it finally goes in for the kill."

"We just need to get to the escape pods, then we'll be safe."

Crowley nodded, running a hand through his hair, the wrapping around his palm snagging a lock. He had barely gotten away from the little bastard that had erupted from Ligur's torso with out a gash, that thing was ready to kill.

And boy was it enjoying that, especially with its new size and speed.

Aziraphale felt a hand grab his own, giving a squeeze. "We need to keep moving." Crowley said softly.

"What about the others?"

"I didn't see anyone else, the systems are fucked right now, I can't tell who is alive and who isn't. I'm registered as dead, even though it's very, very obvious that this is not the case. I can't even register the damn alien on any computer I was able to access."

"Shit." Aziraphale winced and stood up, helping Crowley to his feet. "We have no choice, it's just us then."

"At this point, yeah."

"Funny," Aziraphale said with a rueful smile, "to think that Gabriel told me this whole time I'd be the easiest target for that horrible thing."

"And yet you saw what it did to his cocky ass."

The blond shuddered at the memory. "Best we get moving." He grabbed for the gun he had been carrying around, normally he wasn't one for weapons, being the ship's medical officer, but this was a moral argument he needed to win.

Crowley grabbed his own and the two walked as quietly as they could down the halls, listening for any unusual sounds as red caution lights flashed around them.

If they were really the only ones left, it was only a matter of time before that alien creature decided to try and track them down. Hopefully by then, they'll be away from the ship, the distress call Crowley sent hours ago finally picked up so that they could be rescued.

But Aziraphale didn't want to get his hopes up.

I love sci-fi, but horror sci-fi is just... *chef's kiss*

#john's drabbles #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #crowlien au

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mayrarcjas · 7 months

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Mayra x Zack

located in the Community Center kitchen.

Zack Astor

-he walks into the kitchen, looking to drop off some venison he and David just caught; as he walks in, he catches sight of Mayra- Hey, you know where they store the meat?

mayra.

-without looking up from her work station, mayra nodded toward the back of the kitchen- There's a big chest freezer in the back you could fit it in. -finally she looked up to see zack. from years of experience, mayra managed to keep her composure.-

Zack Astor

Alright. -makes his way into the back to deposit the meat into the freezer-

mayra.

-from her peripheral, mayra watched zack haul the meat toward the back to the freezer. quietly she moved the cleaver closer, just in case. she'd seen the damage he'd done to isaac - mayra wasn't sure if he was above putting hands on a woman as well.- Thanks for the catch. -her voice stayed firm with the same gratefulness she threw to david and jake whenever they'd bring back hunted game.-

Zack Astor

You're welcome. -he responds, closing the freezer before making his way out from the back; as he steps out, he directs his glance at her- By the way. Just remembering - did the council talk to you yet?

mayra.

-she knew it was coming; zack seemed like the kind of person to try to poke any wound or sensitive topic whenever he damn well pleased. like a mean girl from high school wanting to stir shit up for the hell of it.- They did. -mayra kept her words clipped with ike's words spinning in her head to not confront zack. but if he confronted her ... that might've been a loophole-

Zack Astor

Oh really. What did they say? Humor me, Mayra.

mayra.

-finally she looked up at him, her disgust for the man clearly written in her expression.- I don't think I will.

Zack Astor

Ah. -he grins slightly- Must suck for the real world to hit you, huh? When you've been nothing but spoiled by everyone.

mayra.

-she nods at him, a sarcastic smirk growing- Sure.

Zack Astor

-he considers her for a moment before chuckling- Good. Now, I got places to be, princess. Tell Ike hi for me, will you?

mayra.

-she grips onto the cleaver handle, feeling her rage shake within her core.- On that note. -she threw the cleaver toward him, purposefully missing him but it piercing the dry wall.- If you have an issue with me, come take it up with me. Ike didn't deserve what you did to him. -she pulled the drawer open, pulling out another knife in case zack thought to get near her-

Zack Astor

he turns around, stepping to the side instinctively as she flings her knife; he raises an eyebrow at her- Eh, debatable. And I doubt I would've gotten through that thick skull of yours myself. -he grins- You don't seem like the type who understand that she's being a fucking dumbass.

mayra.

That goes to know you don't know shit.

Zack Astor

Oh really? Well I'll be damned. Guess sometimes you get the wrong impression of people. -he puts his hands in his pockets as he regards her- Do you regret any of it?

mayra.

Of course I do. -she answered truthfully, keeping the knife handle tightly fisted- I know I put this place at risk all because I was selfish. And I'll spend the rest of my time here trying to make it up to everyone whether they know about it or not. But hurting others because of my selfishness doesn't make sense. -mayra sighed- I know the answer to this already, but I'll ask anyway: If you have an issue with me, take it up with me, okay? Don't go beating on others to prove a point or whatever reason you had for beating the shit out of Ike. Despite whatever opinion you have of me, I'm not a porcelain doll. I can take it.

Zack Astor

Are you sure? Because when I was talking to Ike, he couldn't even be sure whether you were sorry or not. -he stares at her- Oh princess, don't get me wrong. I'd beat the fucking shit out of you if I thought it'd get me anywhere. This wasn't an act of consideration or something. I truly didn't think anything would get through to you. Considering how you didn't even have the damn balls to own up to anything. And Ike just took it, too. Whatever's going on between you - sounds like it fucking sucks.

mayra.

We didn't exactly have a lot of time to talk about it. -mayra scoffed, thankful she listened to her instincts in grabbing another knife- For the record, Ike told me to keep quiet. And maybe I was stupid to listen to him, but I did. But now the people who need to know, know. Now, can we move on from this? Or this something that you'll hold over my head? I promise I don't need a chaperone ... unless you're volunteering.

Zack Astor

That was pretty fucking stupid. -he scoffs- Of course he's gonna tell you to keep quiet. And that just so happens to be the one time you listen to him, isn't it? When not listening would have negative consequences for you. -he grins, tilting his head- He's babying you. They all are. I'm the one who's not.

mayra.

Fine. I'm spoiled - that's okay for you to think that. Just be the one to not baby me, to me, and leave others out of it.

Zack Astor

I'll do what I damn want. -he shrugs- If you regret it, work for it.

mayra.

Yeah, we both know that. -mayra rolled her eyes, letting out a soft breath. she said her peace and quickly grew tired of the conversation.- I'm going to continue preparing the town's soup. If you want to take first shift of chaperoning, you're welcome to help me. If not, you know where the door is. -she used the knife to point towards it.- Good talk.

Zack Astor

Watch your damn mouth. -he makes his way over to the cupboard to take out some peanut butter- Last time I checked, this wasn't your kitchen. So I'll take my time and make myself some food. Good talk.

mayra.

-mayra bit down the urge to say 'make me', knowing it would probably prompt something she promised to not get into. watching him grab the peanut better, she used the knife to point to the opposite counter.- There's freshly made bread over there if you want something with that. -there was no way mayra was going to have her back to zack and instead moved to the other side of her workstation, leaving the long table to separate them. she carefully placed the knife next to her, keeping it at an easy reach.-

Zack Astor

-he notices her switch in position and chuckles to himself before he casts a glance at the bread- Who made that?

mayra.

Ember and I had hands in it. Making bread is a bit of a process. -mayra ping ponged her gaze between zack and the potatoes she began to cut-

Zack Astor

-he looks at the bread before shaking his head- Nah. I don't trust your ass enough to not do something dumb and try to poison me. -he puts the peanut butter back and instead pulls out a can of canned goulash- You're into that witch crap, seems on brand for you.

mayra.

-she smiles at his comment, taking slight pride, and snickers- Please. -she stopped her movements, giving him a pointed looked- If I wanted to poison you, you’d be poisoned already. Something so obvious like me pointing out bread is a little on the nose. -she resumes her potato cutting-

Zack Astor

-he huffs, slightly amused- Yeah right. Look, when Nicki tells me that I'd be dead if she wanted, I'm gonna take that seriously. When you do it? Not so much. You probably haven't even killed a walker in your lifetime.

mayra.

You can believe whatever picture you’ve painted of me. I’m not going to stop you.

Zack Astor

I will, thank you. I usually found I'm a damn good judge of character. -he opens up the can, takes a spoon and begins eating his meal, deliberately taking his time-

mayra.

Mmm -she said nothing else but made a ‘sure, jan’ face- So, I take it you were military? Marines, maybe?

Zack Astor

I was. -despite his delibaretly slow pace, he's already halfway through the can; He looks up and narrows his eyes- Why do you wanna know?

mayra.

-she kept her gaze on the task at hand and shrugged- Genuinely curious. I heard you and Ermano go back. Is that true?

Zack Astor

We served together. -he seems a little bit weary of her questions- Until he joined the Black Ops at least.

mayra.

-her brows rose, not knowing that tid-bit of information about ermano- Black Ops? That's intense. -mayra placed her knife down, gathering the cut pieces of potato and placed them in the large metal bowl next to her- You didn't want to go with him or what that too much for you?

Zack Astor

-his eyes narrow and he puts the can down; he pushes himself away from the counter taking a few steps towards Mayra- What did I say about watching your mouth?

mayra.

-quickly the woman picked up the knife, holding it in front of herself- And people say I'm touchy. It was a simple question, there's no need to be defensive when I meant no malice. -mayra watched him carefully, narrowing her eyes at him- Why is that? Why are you so quick to be defensive? Again, a simple question meant with no ill intent behind it.

Zack Astor

-he grins, slightly amused- You're the who got the knife, princess. -he tilts his head slightly, returning her gaze, unwavering- You ain't my people, princess. Don't talk to me like you are. Now, can I get some damn salt for my food from the cupboard behind you, or are you gonna stab me for that?

mayra.

The knife is insurance. I saw Ike. You, yourself, said you had no problem beating my ass. If that happens, I'd like to at least go down swinging. -she lowered the knife and turned to get the salt from the cupboard. she placed it on the table between them- And I'm not talking to you like you're 'my people', I'm talking to you like you're a person.

Zack Astor

Is that how you talk to Ike too? -he chuckles- Damn, you must be the best fuck in the world or something, because I have no idea why else he's putting up with you.

mayra.

Not at all. -she shook her head, pinching her tongue between her teeth- Guess we'll never figure it out, huh. -mayra leans back against the counter behind her, arms folding across her chest and, yes, still holding the knife.-

Zack Astor

-he shrugs- Guess we won't. -he grabs the salt and returns to his food- If you wanna find out more about Ermano, go talk to him. Not me.

mayra.

I wasn't asking about Ermano, I was asking about you. -she stays where she was- Question was, why didn't you transfer with him to Black Ops? And then I asked if they were too much for you which prompted you to threaten me. -mayra shrugs- If you didn't want to answer, you could've just said so. -pushing off from the counter, mayra moved to the bowl, putting the remainder of the cut potatoes in it-

Zack Astor

No reason for you to know anything more, princess. And even less reason for me to tell you any more. -he goes back to eating, seemingly unbothered-

mayra.

So is this really you chaperoning me?

Zack Astor

Nope. Just eating my food. -he finishes it and leaves the empty can on the counter, alongside his dirty silverware as he makes for the exit- Good talk, princess. Seems like you haven't changed a bit. I was really hoping you might.

mayra.-she scoffed, following behind Zack, keeping a distance- You're lying to yourself if you think you're a good judge of character. But you do you, think whatever you wanna think. Have the day you deserve. -she flashed one more smile before slamming the door in his face, quickly locking it- Fucking dickhead.

@zackastor

#mayra ;; discord #discord threads ;; zack

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