jvson

[jvson]

sam—

for the longest time, he hadn’t quite the sense of what it meant, exactly, to be cursed.

at first, it felt like some strange, isolated extension of his military service; his superiors were more distant and he had no brothers-in-arms by his side, but the general idea was the same. fight, retrieve, destroy. judge, jury, executioner. when he’d left the service, he’d felt a sense of relief, of finally being free of the violence and blind obedience that had been placed on his shoulders under the guise of heroism and patriotism. 

he should be so lucky.

caspian had done nothing but trade one mantle for another: he no longer bore the stars and stripes on his shoulder, nor a uniform of any kind, in fact. he still wore heavy-soled boots ( he felt too light without them ) and carried the entirety of his worldly possessions in the same C. BARDOT emblazoned bag he’d shouldered for nearly a decade of his life ( a suitcase felt like an extravagance when he didn’t own enough to fill it up ), but none of it was mandatory anymore. the only thing keeping him in line was a seven-digit number, punched into one of the tags dangling around his neck. he could recite it from memory, as he was sure most of them could. 

zero-zero-five-two-seven-six-six. hero. medium danger level. classification upon classification, shuffled from one room to the next. 

it’s been a long time since you’ve been here. alive. what’s the difference, really? between here and alive? i suppose that’s a question i can ask myself in the mirror. i’m here, but some days i don’t feel like i’m alive. like i’ve swapped places with your ghost.

it was favor, or so he’d been told. though kratos named it a curse, the other gods spoke of his courage, of the dashing way he charged into battle on their behalf, returning triumphant and radiant with the divine glory of a god-bestowed blessing. he was not like them — no, others had been struck down for such hubris, the towering sort of pride that scraped the stars — but he had been deemed worthy. 

there was a cost, though. there was always a cost. 

i could blame it on fate. if it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been someone else. would it be better, though? no matter what had happened, i’d have been powerless: i would have succumbed to my curse eventually, or watched helplessly as someone else carried out your fate. you were always fated to die, after all. as am i. living like this is a little bit like hell, isn’t it? almost romantic. maybe i’ll see you there and we’ll make it so.

he had never resisted, before sam. cas had carried out his quests with an almost robotic sort of efficiency, a walking weapon formed at the hands of the united states marine corps, handed off like a baton for a divine purpose. typical of the gods to spare themselves the effort of doing anything on their own; even their heroes were co-opted, trained elsewhere or forced to defend themselves until they were strong enough to be used. he felt like a plaything, a toy soldier of some sort; once, upon his return to deliver an item to a certain god, they’d looked surprised to see him. i didn’t think you’d survive, they told him, rather blandly. as if his own life was something to idly toss away — and to them, he supposed, it was. cas was only mortal, and heroes were a dime a dozen.

you thought you were doing me a favor, keeping it hidden. that i had no need of knowing you were fated to die — as if i, myself, hadn’t been handed the same end. i know you thought it’d spare me the agony of waiting for your eventual end, of not knowing when you’d be gone. but it was so much worse, sam. i had to find out at the same time as knowing it would be by my own hand. 

no good deed goes unpunished, and cas was no exception.

running did him no good; all it brought was blinding, white-hot pain; it took him days to crawl home, sobbing into a concerned sam’s chest until he’d calmed down enough to tell him what was going on.

i’ll never forgive you, you know. i spent the evening in your arms; you spent the evening comforting your would-be killer. is this what love does to us, sam? i feel like i’m sick with it, some days. it’s curdled inside of me, long gone sour ever since that day. we tear ourselves to pieces for the chance to be noticed, hold out our beating hearts as offerance for the so-called privilege of being loved, and for what? to instead offer our throats to each other like wolves showing submission? we do so love to proclaim the elitism of the human species, but i’ve grown to doubt it. we’re no better than the wolves. at least they show mercy.

he doesn’t remember the act itself. he’s blacked it out by now, he’s sure, though he’s managed to cling to a few flashes: sam’s hands on his, warm and steady and strong, the square nails and calloused knuckles he’d spent so many hours kissing. sam’s eyes gazing into his own, shining with tears. sam’s mouth, forming his last words like some sort of sick slow-motion capture of his final moments: i love you. it’s okay.

there’s a picture of you that i’ve kept with me, every time i’ve moved. you’re in the kitchen making breakfast, dish towel slung over your shoulder, your face half-turned toward me. your features are a little blurred, but you’re smiling, halfway through a question: are you gonna sit around, lazy ass, or get up and put the coffee on? 

we had breakfast in bed, and you got mad at me when i spilled jam on the sheets. the sunlight was coming through the windows, dappled across your beautiful face, and i couldn’t help but smile as you scolded me for the stain. your tirade didn’t last long — you demanded to know what the hell i was smiling at, and i just said you.

i’ll come home soon, sam. my time will come, just as yours did. and just like you, i won’t fight it. not when i have you waiting for me on the other side.

i love you.

— c

[jvson]

ELLA.

* CASPIAN / @jvson· 

ever since news about the divine contact had broken out and reached her, ella had begun unearthing all questions she’d deliberately kept at the back of her mind. aside from her clear worry for thad, the skepticism and unease that’d once only existed as mere sparks inside of her threatened to be fanned into flames. her pleas were like an innocent child’s, aimed at the database and earning her nothing in response. there was certain helplessness, but above that, an incomprehension, to her questions – still unsure as to whether or not to reach out to the database themselves, ella didn’t know who to ask all the questions nagging at her. what had happened in the D4 building, and was it bound to occur again? she didn’t want to face the fact that the database’s claims and promises were more nuanced than her idealism had painted them to be. 

   not knowing who else to ask, she sought caspian. admittedly, she knew he was affiliated to the database to the same extent as she was ( which… wasn’t much ). she knew of him indeed, even when they hadn’t interacted much. given his current job around the database area, ella figured he could have some insight ( though, she didn’t want to get her hopes too high, already having gotten an idea of the database’s secrecy given their record ). 

   “you’re caspian, right?” she asked, half-sneaking up on him as she spotted him.  hopefully he wouldn’t mind her. “i heard you’re doing some repair work around the area. i know this is such a weird question, but has… has the database contacted for your help fixing anything?” 

𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝚅𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚃𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂, cas has always felt a disconnect between himself and the database. dislike is, certainly, part of that — it’s a self-inflicted distance, perpetuated by the sour taste left in his mouth every time the bland-looking buildings remind him of his military career. he tolerates the tests, the questions, the ever-looming presence in his life; it’s part of being cursed. he understands that. but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

unlike some of the other people living here, though, the database can’t really do much for him. his curse is, in its entirety, carried out by him and him alone; if harm is brought about, it’s something that’s been mandated by the gods themselves. that, or it’s been manifested as an unfortunate side effect of what they’ve deemed necessary. the prophecies ruin him and give him purpose, all at once — they’ve taken so much from him that they’re the only thing he has left; without a quest to complete, he feels aimless, unworthy. though he’s technically employed in between quests, cas never feels quite so static as when he’s stuck in the town surrounding the database. still, his job gives him something to do, in the attempt to keep his mind busy and the memories at bay. 

as he’s addressed, cas turns a bit suddenly, caught slightly off guard. “ that’s me, ” he says in reply, expression open and curious. he has nothing to hide, but it’s not the most common of questions. “ once or twice, yeah. just small stuff, though, like fixing a few cracks in the sidewalk so they didn’t have to replace the whole thing. i’m sure they have their own people to call if things go awry in there. ”

[jvson]

LOU.

𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚.  being bumped from a thirty-three to one-hundred percent accuracy should feel like validation  —  like she has some sort of control over what she’s seeing, like she has some idea what she’s doing. and, yet, just like every other time in her life where she should she’d be getting rewarded for a job well done, she turns up empty handed.  coming to the database has done NOTHING to help her make sense of what she’s seeing, she’s still left in the dark. the thoughts bubble up in her chest, rising to fill every cavity in her chest, and then she BREAKS.  “ would it KILL them to just tell us SOMETHING ? ”  her words come out in a sudden burst, uncharacteristically loud by lourdes standards. she’s not sure who she’s trying to talk to  —  maybe she’s just talking to herself, it would be the first time.  “ i mean, to see my OWN number in that message, to be told that i’m RIGHT and still come out of it not knowing what’s going on… what’s the point ? ” 

𝙰 𝙻𝙾𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙻𝙾𝚄 is in a comfortable silence. he’s over at her place often enough, fixing something up or hanging a set of picture frames, anything she wants a helping hand with — and it’s nice, to be used to her presence in a way that they don’t feel the need to talk the whole time. that, and the fact that he’s noticed that she simply isn’t that sort of person. generally, she’s on the quieter side, she doesn’t mince her words; this sort of outburst coming from lou, of all people, startles him slightly. cas sets down his paintbrush, taking a measured breath as he figures out what to say. “ they seem to operate on a need-to-know basis, a lot of the time, ” he begins, which he’s sure she already knows. all of them do. “ but it is kind of fucked up that you don’t make that list when it was your prophecy in the first place. i’d get it if they didn’t tell me — i’m not involved, you know ? but keeping you in the dark doesn’t sit right with me. ”

[jvson]

FRANKIE.

frankie couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his huh. she figured she was probably going too fast for him, but even some of the others might have been able to muster up a better reply. she and caspian seem to walk paths in opposite directions – hers towards ivy covered stone walls, him somewhere far away from them. she does thinks she’s better than him. she’s always been told so, and his response wasn’t inspiring much confidence for her to believe otherwise. “hey!” she exclaimed as he commandeers the computer, scooting away a little to avoid getting hit (she was never actually in the way, but she still moved). “watch it, that’s a delicate piece of equipment!”

she narrows her eyes at him. obviously she wouldn’t want to trade, and they both knew that. but that didn’t change the fact that he was the one that was more fucked in the end, not her. she flashed him a humorless smile. “i’m all good with the nerd curse over here, cassie boy, but thanks for the offer. you just keep on trucking with yours.” she swings her fist in front of her chest in a gesture of mock-encouragement. frankie fancies herself someone who understands loss – it’s her curse classification, after all – but the reality was the only sudden loss she’d ever known was isabella. the rest were slower, duller, easier to manage. she can’t even begin to understand the very real circumstances of death. she snorted. “right, because they put us all here because we’re so obedient and easy to manage. and if the gods want to be pissed off, they’ll find a reason to be regardless of what we do. assholes.”

“ 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁, 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝚈 𝙰 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝙾𝙽𝙴, ” he grumbles, reluctantly letting go of the monitor. truthfully, he hadn’t quite realized that the equipment could be so delicate in the first place; sometimes, like a bull in a china shop, he doesn’t quite realize his own strength. frankie’s never one to hold back on outlining his every flaw, especially when it comes to their main differences. namely: brains versus brawn, david versus goliath, a tale as old as time. he knows that traditionally, the frankie of the story is the one that wins in the end — perhaps it’s arrogant of him to think he can change the story, but his HUBRIS is what got him here in the first place. 

childishly, he sneers at her, only just resisting the urge to stick out his tongue. “ oh, fuck off, ” he mutters halfheartedly, slumping back into his chair. as if he has a choice. curses aren’t exactly the opt-out when you’re tired of them sort of thing. for a moment, cas feels a flash of regret — he hasn’t ever really bothered to brush up on the people around him, so cas truly has no idea what sort of burdens they’ve been leveled with. frankie’s shoulders could be crumbling beneath the weight of her curse, and he’d be none the wiser. truthfully, he can’t quite tell if it’s better or worse to know. “ well, if we’re doomed no matter what, then what’s your SOLUTION to this prophecy shit ? i don’t think it’s gonna wait for you to figure out whatever wack-ass language was in the background. ” he raises an eyebrow at her, as if he’s found his checkmate of the day. “ big help you are up in your ivory tower, huh ? ”

[jvson]

JANUARY.

January didn’t smile—if you asked her, the problem was the mistake of asking for free repairs from Mrs. McCarthy, and having him appear. If it were up to her, she would have had him shipped out and locked in a storage closet where he could never have bothered anyone ever again. At least that would give her some peace of mind. She walked over to the kitchen sink, beckoning him to follow her. Maybe the sink wasn’t down for the count, maybe he was going to leave in a few minutes and tell her it just needed some sealant. Happy thoughts.

“I’ve been using an incantation for drying, but it just keeps coming back. I’m not any good with plumbing.” She shrugged, crossing her arms, the chill of her voice seeping into the conversation as she looked at him. The gods had a sick sense of humor, but she wasn’t laughing at all. “You going to take long? And are you going to need payment up front?”

𝙲𝙰𝚂 𝚆𝙾𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂, 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃, if he’s done something to OFFEND her in the brief amount of time since he’s entered her apartment. a quick glance back reveals that no, he didn’t track mud into the place, so he’s a little uncertain. still, some people are protective of their space, so she probably just wants him out as soon as possible. he’s a stranger to her, after all. “ sometimes it just takes a little mundane fixing-up, ” he assures her. 

he kneels down in front of the sink, opening the cabinet and sticking his head inside to assess the issue. “ well, it doesn’t look like a MAJOR problem. best practice would probably be to replace the sink’s pipes here — it would take a few hours, but it’d be worth it in the long run. otherwise, i could pop some sealant on there to fix the leak for now, but the longer you wait to fix the whole thing, the more likely you’ll be to get water damage. you’ll have to replace it eventually. ” he pokes his head back out, leaning back on his heels. “ it’s up to you, though. i won’t bother charging you if you just want some sealant, but replacing the pipes will probably end up being around one-fifty or so. ”

[jvson]

RONAN.

     ── ronan has never cared for prophecies. little good comes from knowing what’s coming, he’s found ; he’s been facing futures for as long he’s known ANYTHING, and the best it’s done is made him tired, cynical. still, there are bits of this latest vision that have been sticking to him, catching in his memory even as he’s tried to smooth past them. blood on someone’s hands, fresh. none of it is exactly a good omen, though that part of it he can’t help but dwell on, turning the image of it over in his mind until he’s worn himself out with it.

there’s little to do on campus though he’s got nowhere better to be, biding time on a bench outside one of the many locked doors that litter the place. there’s some quiet part of him that’s set himself there on PURPOSE, a precaution of sorts. if the blood is going to be his, he’d rather not be chased down on his own. at least the people there recognize him. besides, he’s been half-hoping to catch someone who knows something, anything, more than what they’ve been given in that spare message. earlier he’d seen a few employees leave the building beside him— yet, as always with the those he’s known through the database, they’d been elusive when he had anything to ask. and so now he waits, aimlessly, trying to shake out his tension by bouncing his leg slightly, holding a hand in a fist tight enough that he can feel his own fingernails bite at his skin. ronan feels coiled tight, everywhere.

“ i don’t think there’s anyone in there, anymore. ”  he starts up, snatching at the opportunity for distraction, warning as someone else approaches ; surely he’s not the only one of the others searching for better answers. “ no one’s got anything to SAY around here, anyway, if you were looking to ask. left us in the fucking dark. ”

𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙴, cas has long since been desensitized to prophecies, vague or otherwise. when one makes itself known to him, one way or another, every few months — well, let’s just say he’s stopped being surprised by them and instead grown TIRED of them. the most recent announcement ( once he manages to hear about it, since he can’t remember his database password ) hardly makes him BLINK; the blood on someone’s hands could very well be his own, but there’s no use turning himself inside out over something he’s not even certain will ever affect him. it’s not as if blood on his hands would be anything new, anyway — that’s another on the long list of things he’s become desensitized to. 

without something to do at the moment, he’s left to wander; alone with his thoughts is never somewhere he wants to be, so he takes a walk instead. it isn’t long before he finds himself near the main buildings, veering off course at the sight of a familiar face. “ that’s alright, ” he says in response, shrugging slightly at ronan’s warning. he sits himself down next to him without waiting for an invitation, assuming that since they’re FRIENDS ( in his mind ), he has an open one. “ whatever it ends up being, i’m sure we’ll... take it in stride. figure something out. ” it’s not the most concrete of solutions, but, well — cas has always been the type to be more in the moment when it comes to solving problems. if he can’t do it himself, he can’t bring himself to trust it. “ it’s only a 33% chance or whatever, right ? maybe we have nothing to worry about. ”

[jvson]

FRANKIE.

“alright, let’s see what we’re working with.” although frankie used a plural tense, she wasn’t really in the business of talking to people. instead, she talked at them, unloading her entire stream of consciousness at them whether or not they were actually listening. it was a way to organize her thoughts for later, picking out things she might not have noticed the first two or ten times she read over the notification. she probably wouldn’t figure it out right then and there – she wasn’t that good – but it would be helpful for later.

she swiveled back around in the chair, glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she read back over the message on the computer. she spent some time on the database’s campus, and found that she could get work done there. plus, their computers were nice. “bright white light and burning heat…sounds pretty fucking godly to me. or a fire of some kind. arson? not likely around here, unless it was set by once of us, which is totally possible because of the familiar face thing.” her leg jiggled underneath the desk. the movement made the id card around her neck bounce a little, too. “ancient language? also could be godly. sucks we don’t know what it is, though.” she wasn’t too disappointed at the sparseness of the prophecy –– it would make it all the more satisfying to figure out. “and blood on hands. boring. some people around here are literally destined to die. that’s nothing new. hm…” she trailed off, leaning back in her chair and pushing her glasses back up. “i wonder.”

𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷 𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙺𝙸𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙳 𝚆𝙴, cas knows better than to assume that he’s actually included in her statement. he’s caught here on a coincidence — NOT on purpose. it’s curse enough to run around on treasure hunts for the gods; he doesn’t need to spend what remains of his free time sitting around with DR. FRANKIESTEIN herself. or whoever. he doesn’t know a lot of famous scientists. when he does manage to come up with a response to her diatribe, it isn’t his most eloquent reply. “ HUH ? ” is all that comes out at first, a crease forming between his brows as his head tilts slightly in confusion. he yanks the computer screen around, trying to see what she’s seeing — he’s never owned one before, and forgot his database login within about 24 hours of setting it up, so he’s never up to date on the goings-on.

as is habit with frankie, she manages to rub him the wrong way within approximately two minutes. people around here are destined to die. yeah, like CAS. “ well, if it’s such old news, do you wanna trade ? ” he shoots back, already getting snippy. “ i’ll be happy to take on your nerd curse, or whatever. maybe you can analyze how quickly you die. ” he doesn’t know shit about anything regarding the sort of work frankie did in the database — that much is abundantly clear — though, to be fair, he’s never quite cared enough to TRY. with the elitist attitude that frankie’s displayed in the past toward his lack of education, he’s been turned off by it more than once. “ just tell everyone to not piss off the gods or set fires for a few days. no big deal. ”

[jvson]

MERCY.

“𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐏𝐒𝐒𝐓, 𝐘𝐎𝐔.” mercy gestured towards the person lingering near her with a frantic finger, looking over her shoulder surreptitiously. her stomach made a sound even louder than her voice: she refused to eat the slop they served here, but she needed to eat something because she was fading. fast. the influencer broke out a twenty dollar bill. 

“could you buy me a ho ho from the vending machine? i’m starving and i can’t go myself. it’s  ⁠— not important why. i’ll let you keep the change.” mercy swallowed hard, trying to keep the ichor in her throat at bay, her hand tremoring at her side. “please.”

“ 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙸𝙵 𝙸 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴, 𝚃𝙾𝙾, ” he says with a lopsided grin, already snatching the money from mercy’s hands. he’s not exactly the type to ask questions; plus, he’s always gotten along with mercy. cas will hardly be the one to DENY her a simple request. before he turns toward the vending machine, though, he raises a significant eyebrow at her. “ there’s other food here besides the ho hos, you know, ” he says, gesturing for her to come with him. “ i bet i have a can of spam in my cabinet somewhere with your name on it. mmm, gourmet. now that’s what i call a five-star meal — whaddya say ? ”

[jvson]

JANUARY.

@jvson​

When she moved into the apartment the database so generously procured for her, January had to admit that she had a lot of fixing to do—and while she would use her magic for some things that were simple enough, she wasn’t going to risk flooding her own apartment for a leaking pipe. That said, when the spitting image of Archie came walking into her apartment, holding a wrench and telling her that he was going to fix said leaky pipe, she had just enough self-control to put on a cordial face and tell him to come in. At least she didn’t blast the man with magic. Props to her.

“Do you want anything? Water, lemonade?” An excuse to hurry up? Maybe she could be friendlier—it wasn’t Archie, he was long dead. Just some random guy. But she wasn’t over him, or what he’d done. Not by a long shot. “I can conjure up some Lipton if it suits you.”

𝙸𝙵 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙴, fixing up houses and performing odd jobs has always helped cas pass the time. though it’s been years since he left the marines, he’s never quite been able to shake the feeling that he’s missing something — without the constant routine, always having a task to do or boots to shine, he’s felt a little lost. having concrete goals make him feel like he isn’t quite so aimless: paint that fence, rip up that carpet, replace that doorknob. it’s straightforward, HONEST work, and he never has to think too much about what he’s doing. 

today brings another day, another broken sink — a leaky pipe shouldn’t take up TOO much of his time, so he doesn’t pay much mind to anything beyond zeroing in on the sink in question as soon as he walks in. “ nah, i’m alright, ” he says, eyes darting around the place as he moves further inside, toolbox in hand. he glances over at her, flashing a polite smile. “ thank you, though. i appreciate it. this shouldn’t take me long; i’ll be out of your hair soon enough. ” he gestures toward the kitchen. “ is the problem in here ? or the bathroom ? ” 

[jvson]

hello and WELCOME to the thunderdome. no i do not know what is going on & no i will not be taking criticism at this time. it’s ya girl emily, 22, she / her, vibing in the est & it’s time to meet ur occasionally clever mostly stupid himbo king cas !!!!!!

BACKGROUND.

trigger warning for mention of murder / death .

he’s from a lil backwoods town, lived in a trailer park as a kid, v blue collar area etc etc But his mom is this lively city girl that his dad had like a month long whirlwind romance with before she dropped cas on his doorstep nine months later

his dad met this survivalist / doomsday prepper dude that moved to town when cas was like six or so and he was like u know what this dude makes points

he pulled cas out of school p young so he didn’t learn ??? anything ?? unless he figured it out himself so he’s always been forced to do things Himself or not at all u know. literally this kid didn’t learn how to read until he was like 10 so don’t ask him what two squared is he doesn’t fucking Know

he joined the marines at 18 and ended up falling in love w a fellow soldier named sam ( aw ) so gay rights babey

a few years into his military career he met this dude who turned out to be the god kratos, aka the divine personification of strength & power, and double whammy surprise kratos is his GRANDPA #wild

one day kratos tried to order his unit to leave sam behind in a firefight and cas was like hm actually No and convinced everyone to go against kratos to save sam

for his trouble he got a medal and a curse all in one rip :/

so as for his curse he basically ended up getting all these prophecies and quests to do on behalf of the gods bc kratos was like aight u can be a soldier for the gods 4ever

one prophecy ended up being that he had to kill sam which is :( sad especially since sam was like “it’s okay” and helped him do it so ... in conclusion i hate it here

he also got a prophecy at some point that he’s fated to die at the hands of someone he’s wronged on behalf of the gods so ... rip cas ig

ever since then he’s just been wandering around doin his quest thing until he moved to the database town !

now he’s vibing as a handyman type so ... get him to come build u a fence he’ll measure it with his heart ❤️

PERSONALITY.

HIMBO !!! himbo

listen he do be having a few brain cells sometimes, as a treat. as stated previously he doesn’t know what two squared is but like ... he does solve the riddles the gods give him so his head isn’t completely empty

has a problem w/ keeping a degree of separation between himself and others like .. especially in regards to his quests and stuff he’s been accused of being Cold and Ruthless in the name of getting it done, he’s sacrificed people in the past in the name of the quest and that’s gonna bite him in the ass someday

he thinks traditional schooling is Dumb bc he’s like i’ve done all this stuff without a single crumb of school so he thinks it’s all a scam and that’s that on that

fun fact: his mom has magic ! she’s a demigod tho so she got more power than cas did. he does have a lil power that he’s not super aware of ?? basically what it boils down to is like... the power of suggestion, in a way. if he’s really passionate abt something ( like not leaving sam behind ), he can sway people / crowds toward his point of view especially if they’re already on the fence. it’s def not anything Super powerful like if ur stuck in your ways he can’t make you change your mind but ! he can encourage u to consider it !

in conclusion plot with me xoxo

[jvson]

same energy

[jvson]

oh i am absolutely an idiot but i do have my moments

[jvson]

I hope that / once someone rips everything useful out of me, / I will still haunt them.

William Evans, from “To the Garden I Abandoned,” We Inherit What the Fires Left (via lifeinpoetry)

[jvson]

Booksmart (2019) Directed by Olivia Wilde

[jvson]

I’m too exhausted to explain my soul to someone again.

T. // ten word story #38 (via desveladas)

[jvson]

Someone: Are you taken? Me: Ya for granted

[jvson]