#and made references to hell and devils in their classic shorts

[mikurulucky]

The fact they thought "crud" was offensive is just hilarious considering that word was near CONSTANTLY used in SWAT Kats back in the 90s, and that was a kids' action show! XD

alex hirsch going rogue… king shit

[dragonmarquise]

Speaking of trauma and stuff, name all the characters you think have trauma in bomb rush cyberfunk, any crew, any reason. Feel free to use HCs and stories and fanfics to explain!!! Bc RN I am drowning in your content/pos

First and foremost, thank you for the interest in my ideas and stuff!! Even though art and fan fic writing has been on the backburner for me while I try to get the BRC wiki to a point where I can call it “finished” at least for now. So like, doing posts like this is the only way right now that I can share my stuff at the moment. ;u;

Second, OH BOY, this is gonna be a hell of a topic. Uhh, content warnings for mentions of abuse and injuries and trauma in general. I mean, given the topic, it’s definitely going to get dark. The big ones are probably going to be my 4 Devil Theory OCs, but I have some ideas for a few other characters…

Also this is gonna be VERY long just fair warning! No seriously, I think I basically wrote the equivalent of a short fan fic here. That ended up being the reason this took so long to answer. :u

Let’s start off with Felix! Since you brought up an interesting point about why he might be distancing himself from others. For other people’s reference, this is the reblog I’m referring to.

Actually let’s break this up into sections so it’s a bit easier to read, not to mention easier to get to certain characters.

Felix

So again, from your post! Felix distances himself even from friends a lot of the time, because it’s a subconscious thing where he doesn’t want to end up too attached to someone. And then hurting badly if he loses them.

Related to Old Amsterdam, maybe Felix somehow survived whatever happened that led to it being destroyed/buried and then having New Amsterdam built on top of it. The current fandom theory is that it was a giant flooding disaster. It’s mentioned in a couple of dialogs with the Oldheads that at least those three (i.e. Boombap, Oldschool, and Classic) still remember the original Amsterdam, and the way they talk, they definitely lived there for at least a short amount of time before the city got wiped out. Presumably they and other people managed to flee whatever disaster before it happened, while other people weren’t so lucky maybe?

Heck, I know there’s one particular dialog, I think from Boombap specifically, where he mentions how Felix was just a kid while Boombap himself was in his prime as a writer. Presumably back during Old Amsterdam, but maybe even during the early start of New Amsterdam?

So maybe Felix as a small child remembers the disaster, either having to stay with his parents and losing them while managing to survive himself. Or otherwise they all fled but something happened along the way where Felix had to leave by himself. There’s also fan theories about the coffin in the Old Amsterdam under Versum Hill, that maybe it was used to save him, but also kinda preserve him? Then again maybe the coffin is unrelated in that regard, and Felix has some other connection to it (maybe a very distant descendant of whoever actually made it).

We don’t know the exact time frame between Old Amsterdam being destroyed and New Amsterdam being built, other than the Oldheads being around for both based on the game dialog. Again, they mention having memories of Old Amsterdam and how it compares to New Amsterdam and all. But still, it could have been a decently long amount of time in the past, since we don’t quite know how old the Oldheads themselves are… I always imagined them in the 60s to 80s range tbh, and then most of the case being in the range of 25 to 35.

Well, okay, the Old Amsterdam stuff and the Oldheads’ ties into the game’s lore is an interesting topic, but I’m getting a bit too off-topic for this post, sorry!!

Anyways, Felix as a very young child was in Amsterdam at the time of the disaster, manages to survive, but loses his parents at minimum. That kind of loss, especially in such a presumably horrifying way, isn’t something that can be easily overcome.

But also! Here’s my additional idea for this: Felix doesn’t want to remember what happened back then. In fact, I like to think he’s repressed that particular part of his life so hard he genuinely can’t remember now. At least not willingly. Good thing DJ Cyber was helping Felix remember only the part about how to stop Faux, otherwise he might’ve seen some REALLY depressing stuff. I like to think the first bits of each dream Felix has at the end of each chapter (besides the 4th one, which just gets right into the actual dream stage) are subconscious symbolisms of those locked away memories.

The first dream has a black and white image of “Old Amsterdam”, with someone wearing his mask in a boat. The second dream has a bunch of people standing before a pyramid of stairs, and if you knock off the person at the top, the rest at the bottom start cheering. The third dream has a long line of people, waiting for something or waiting to go somewhere maybe. The fifth dream has a line of crows you have to chase away, leading up to the group of big crows that reveal Felix.

… granted I only have my own ideas of what those could symbolize, but I feel like there’s definitely something interesting there.

Anyways, as far as Felix knows, he grew up in New Amsterdam as an orphan. There was nothing else before that. Nope. But even if he never remembers the truth of what happened to him as a kid, that trauma is still affecting him as an adult.

Like what you pointed out in your reblog, I like to think Felix eventually realizing that pushing away people who care about him just to “protect” them isn’t a healthy way of handling his feelings. Even if he never remembers the root cause of why he felt the need to do that in the first place, I’d think he learns to handle it better from now on, especially with the events of BRC teaching him friendship and stuff (not quite but like, you get the idea lol).

Cueball

So now, Cueball! Oh boy, poor Cueball. He has two sources of trauma: the stuff that led to him going full-cyber, and Eight Ball being killed.

With the first, reiterating what I said in my big DOT EXE post: as a teen living in the US (or whatever is the equivalent in the universe of BRC), Cueball got COVID, and the resulting Long COVID left him in damn terrible health. Overall physically weaker, damaged immune system, some nerve damage, sense of taste and smell being messed up (“Can you imagine biting into a chocolate bar, and tasting nothing but a like, raw meat kinda taste? I still remember that. Wouldn’t wish that even on my worst enemies.”).

And his own friends being worried they might “catch” it from him too (even though it’s at the point where it’s just the Long COVID) so then this poor guy is socially isolated while he’s still getting through high school on top of all of this. Doesn’t help that both of his parents are convinced it isn’t that bad and it's just him being lazy or finding "excuses". It isn’t until years later when they finally take him to see some doctors to try and get him some kind of help, and even then, they only take him to see quack doctors that recommend snake oils over anything that could actually help him.

Even with Eight Ball eventually stepping in and helping Cueball moving away from his awful parents, seeing better doctors in New Amsterdam… and then it turns out Cueball’s condition is so severe that there isn’t much that can be done by that point. So then the full-cyber conversion happens, because from Cueball’s point of view, his only other options are to either continue to suffer, or just straight up die.

I mean, you can imagine that would leave some pretty significant trauma on anyone. But Cueball is repressing most of it. Especially since, he’s had other people pity him and feel sorry for what he went through, and he hates that. The only person he ends up telling about any of this in particular is Bō (my Devil Theory OC that I ship with him), and even then only after they’ve been dating for a while.

By this point, he’s mostly mad at his parents for letting it get as bad as it did, especially with how stubborn they were about taking it seriously at all. Not to mention, like I said in the DOT EXE post, Cueball originally had plans to becoming a chef or baker. But he couldn’t exactly do that with his sense of smell and taste getting messed up, nevermind everything else he had to deal with. There’s a bit of resentment there towards his parents, the people who were supposed to, y’know, keep him safe.

Oh also, he is dead to them. Quite literally. I imagine in some countries in the BRC universe, a person going full-cyber or even just getting a cyberhead makes the person be considered legally dead. Y’know, Ship of Thesesus, “How much do you replace of a person before they stop being the same person?” kind of thing. And if not legally, I can imagine some people just have that kind of thought towards cybernetics like that.

His parents even made a grave for him and held a funeral for him. To clarify, by that point he was already living in New Amsterdam with his brother and the other DOT EXE guys, going through the procedures to go full-cyber. He told them what was going to happen to him, and they basically cut contact and acted like he completely died.

But if he had a chance at the time, Cueball would have flown back home, dig open his own “grave”, then push his parents in and bury them alive. Otherwise, he just likes to think that if he’s dead to them, then they’re dead to him too. Hell, they probably are dead by the point of the game, but Cueball refuses to even think about them either way.

The main trauma response (not sure if that’s the right word for this?) from all this is that Cueball gets really worried for his non-cyber friends whenever they get sick. Also getting mad if they try to keep going around as if they’re not sick, “Dude!! Go rest!! You’re either gonna make it worse or get someone else sick!!”

He is also still very distrustful of doctors in general, even if they’re genuine. He goes along with Bō for his doctor visits like a bodyguard. He’s worried for his boyfriend, but it takes him a while to admit he might be overreacting.

So then besides that! Cueball also has the trauma from Eight Ball dying. Maybe he even saw it himself, I don’t think the game specifies if the other DOT EXE members were around when it happened, or if the police/Faux managed to catch Eight Ball alone and take him out then. Personally it feels more that it’s the former, like they were all talking together nearby after losing the crew battle, then Eight Ball got shot and the others ran for it before they were next.

From a different previous post of mine, basically what I’m thinking is that Cueball was not coping with Eight Ball’s death very well. At all. To the point of even making fun of Eight Ball for just dying “so easily”. Which of course pisses off the rest of DOT EXE and gets him kicked out, leading to him joining BRC to continue to try and ignore Eight Ball’s death. Even considers just deleting his memories of Eight Ball completely, even though doing so would leave gaps in his memories that are too noticeable to ignore.

Fortunately! I think he’d eventually get a better handle on his feelings and what happened, and reconcile with the rest of DOT EXE later. He still sticks with BRC though, but at least he lives with the rest of DOT EXE again.

Vela

This one is for the spring palette Eclipse member. This is gonna be a bit shorter, but mostly because, I don’t want to get into too much detail on what happened to her, since the character herself probably wouldn’t do so either, at least to most people. So, to the point: She is studying at the local university, and at one point ended up abused by a professor she thought she could trust. That guy very nearly got away with it, if it weren’t for the rest of Eclipse stepping in to make sure he didn’t.

Though even with the scumbag punished, for a very long time afterwards Vela ends up very distrustful of men in general. She does go to therapy to help cope with things at least, especially since she wants to avoid coping in a way that ends up hurting her more. The leader of Eclipse in particular, Cassiopeia, encouraged Vela to make sure to go to therapy, and of course all of them helped support her during this time too.

It definitely does help, with her becoming less distrustful over time. She even gets a boyfriend later on! After a lot of patience from him, which Vela really appreciates and loves him for. Unfortunately, the rest of Eclipse finding out about this is the reason (in my little headcanon/AU story thing at least) for them kicking her out of their crew. So then similar to Cueball, leading to her joining up with BRC.

To clarify, they didn’t kick her out because she’s dating a man, they kicked her out because she hid something fairly important from the rest of them. With what she went through, combined with the crew overall having a, well, dislike towards men in general, she was worried about what they would think of her if she told them. So kinda poor communication on both sides?

I like to think they do eventually sort things out, but also like with Cueball, Vela probably sticks with BRC for writer stuff. However, she’s still very happy to have her friends back by thatpoint!

(Also I ended up deciding that Vela’s boyfriend is someone I’ve talked about before already. Remember the guy who I said his friends joke about his “theoretical” girlfriend, because he insists he’s dating someone but they’ve still never met her? But yeah that’s probably for another post. :P )

Rise

For Rise, I think some people might debate if it really “counts” as trauma, but I think it still does. A lot of this is copy-pasted from a document that I don’t think I’ve shared publicly yet, or at least not outside of this one BRC server I’m on.

In essence, Rise was emotionally neglected by her parents. Rise's parents are the high/upper class kind of people. Rich! Snooty! Looking down on the poor! etc. They saw their daughter as more of a reflection of their own reputation and stuff instead of her own person. So plenty of criticizing her for her appearance, what she ate, who she hung out with, what she studied in school, etc.

I have a headcanon where Rise has a huuuuge interest in marine biology and ocean stuff. It’s partly why she ends up hanging out on Pyramid Island, at least in my mind! She knows a lot, possibly even more than most people who go to school for the same topic!

But then whenever she'd ramble to her parents about it, she was basically met with a lot of dismissive "Yes yes, that's nice dear" and stuff like that. And after a certain point they were like, "When are you going to be interested in something more practical? Like medical science or business?" and that basically made her never want to talk about anything to her parents ever again, let alone her hobbies and interests.

At one point they wanted Rise to get into ice skating, but only because they wanted to have the prestige of having an "Olympic gold-medalist~" as a daughter. But also making sure she didn't get into any sports that were too "masculine" in their eyes, oh no, what a scandal that would have been for these poor rich assholes!! She got into skating alright... inline skating, specifically just to spite them. From that, Rise made more genuine friends, then became a writer through that as well. Her first time getting caught by police, her parents were horrified and actually paid to get her out and scrub her records (like with what was happening with Faux).

But then Rise keep doing writer stuff, again out of spite towards her parents, and kept getting caught, etc. Eventually they just forced her to move out of London (or maybe, Neo London? Who knows how bad the floods were in the rest of the world) where they were living, and she ends up in New Amsterdam from there. They would have disowned her on top of that, but then that would be even more of a scandal in their socialite circles, oh no!! So they just quietly sent her off and even try to pretend she's just overseas studying at some prestigious university or something.

The only "contact" Rise has with her parents these days is them actually sending her money every now and then. In their mind, if she isn't something like a doctor or CEO, it means she's probably living off of dirt without their help. She always donates the money they send her to a local charity, she sure as hell wouldn't want to keep it even if she did need it.

Rise doesn’t mind if people assume she’s just some rich kid that got into writer stuff for the sake of clout/because it was trendy. She doesn’t care for other people’s opinions too much, and besides she thinks her beef with her parents is between just her and them, and nobody else's business unless she chooses to share it.

Though, even after that, Rise tends to have trouble opening up to people, at least outside of being a writer and all. Especially when it comes to talking about her oceanic interests. So like, for my headcanons she ends up becoming besties with Rave and Shine in particular once they’re all with BRC! But even then, she’s afraid to bring up her interests, and for the longest time they mostly like to talk about writer stuff or gossip and the like. She gets there eventually, it just takes her a while.

---

Now for my Devil Theory OCs! I’ve already written a lot in this post, and these four might be a bit shorter than the rest all together. Also like with Rise, this is mostly copy-pasted and cleaned up/added to from a document I haven’t shared outside of a Discord server.

Sai

He is the spring palette Devil Theory guy, and the one in my headcanons/stories who ends up joining BRC. His parents started off verbally abusive with him as a small kid, until it escalated into physical abuse by the time he was in middle school. His dad was the source of the worst of it, but his mom definitely wasn’t a saint either in all of this, being abusive as well. It’s effectively a sense of “If my son wasn’t around, he’d just go after me” cowardice, just “agreeing” with her husband for her own safety. Sai at least had Daishō (and eventually Bō and Nunchaku) to help him through it, in particular Daishō letting him stay over at Daishō's house for days at a time just to avoid his parents.

Unfortunately, the abuse still continued whenever Sai came home. Despite what was happened, back then he still had hopes that his parents might change eventually. They hammered into him the mentality of “family is everything no matter what”, and was hoping that would actually win out in the end. But then because of that, he never really fought back, thinking it would just make things worse, even once he grew older and was physically capable of fighting back.

It also didn’t help that for most of his life living in New Amsterdam, Sai felt pretty isolated. Him and his parents moved from Puerto Rico (fun fact, with a lot of maps that show what the Earth would look like if all the ice caps melted, Puerto Rico is still around since most of it is actually pretty mountainous! So not as badly affected by any potential world flooding disasters, at least compared to Old Amsterdam and other places). He gets picked on a lot as a kid for being Latino and just generally an outsider. Even a lot of teachers and adults end up not trusting him due to his “attitude”.

Daishō is pretty much his only friend for a very long time, and before joining BRC he only ever considered him, Bō, and Nunchaku as his friends. Basically, he doesn’t feel like he has a lot of other people to turn to for help. And at any rate, he wouldn’t want to risk his own friends getting hurt because of his parents. Especially since, his dad in particular is a cop, and has been using those connections to cover up what’s been going on.

This eventually accumulated into his breaking point sometime in high school. His father managed to give him a nasty cut on his lower leg, and his mother just sloppily stitched it up, seeing no need to go to the hospital (because otherwise the people at the hospital would probably find out about what was going on). Sai eventually snapped sometime after that, and beat the fuck out of his dad.

He would have done the same to his mom (who, again, was also very much physically abusive, even if not to the same extent as his dad), if she hadn't managed to barricade herself in a bathroom. Afterwards, both his parents decided to skip town out of “embarrassment” instead of trying to involve the police against Sai (i.e. realizing that what they were doing to Sai would have to be investigated as well, in a way that couldn’t be covered up with cop connections anymore). He hasn’t seen them since and plans to keep it that way.

Is it any wonder the poor guy ends up with anger issues? He at least gets a better hold of them later in life at least, especially once he joins BRC.

Bō

Bō, the blond one (winter palette for Devil Theory), mostly dealt with his mother being horribly controlling and abusive to him (largely emotionally, but also sometimes physically). Meanwhile his father was a doormat who effectively enabled her, even helping her cover up what was going on.

At one point she attempted to homeschool him to protect him from being "corrupted”. She and the father followed, from what Bō could remember, a “very strange niche of Christianity”, with confusing ideology, seemingly just her picking and choosing what she wanted to believe from the Bible (which, unfortunately applies to a lot of Christians out there, but I digress…). They never actually went to church, but she would insist they were are True Christians. Her attempts at homeschooling him were equally confusing, at least for him.

But then that resulted in Bō needing to be held back a bit once the proper authorities found out she wasn't doing a good job, and thus forced her to let him attend regular school. They tried to catch him up as best as possible, but eventually just let the schools "handle" him from there. Between that and continued abuse at home, he was all around miserable during this time. Also really not helping that he ended up with poor social skills due to how his mother was isolating him so much.

Fun fact, he met Sai and Daishō sometime towards the end of primary school for all of them (roughly middle school, from what I can tell from research?). They had planned to bully him into helping them with homework, thinking an older kid would know more about what they were studying. But then they found out about him needing to catch up on a lot of things, and actually helped him out instead! Also for a frame of reference on ages, Bō is 31 in the present, while Sai and Daishō are both about 28, and Nunchaku is about 27.

Anyways, back to the note about his mother isolating him. She would also manipulate Bō’s relationships, either scaring off other kids he tried to make friends with, making him paranoid that they secretly hated him, or otherwise making it so that he could rarely (if ever) see them too often.

Daishō and Sai were the only ones she couldn’t successfully scare off nor turn Bō against. They also helped him stand up to her and defend himself. This eventually led to Bō being disowned and kicked out of his home for being so “disobedient”, but he considers this the best possible outcome. As far as he knows, his mother and father both moved out in the country to get away from the “corrupting” influence of the city, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about ever meeting them again.

Unfortunately, he was still left with a lot of issues. One is with food. She would often say she was going to cook one thing and then make something completely different, intentionally adding ingredients or buy snack foods that he didn’t like, or add certain spices that would alter the taste in ways he didn’t expect. She did this mostly as a way to make sure he wouldn’t be a picky eater, forcing him to eat or go hungry. Even if it meant eating something that he found repulsive.

As an adult, this resulted in Bō being very, very picky about his food. He wants it a certain way, and if it isn’t the way he wants or is expecting, he refuses to eat it. Especially if it’s something he hasn’t tried before, he needs to be told what it’s like, be able to at least sample it first, and if it’s homemade food he has to trust the person who’s cooking it anyways. For ordering at restaurants, if they get his order wrong, he’d rather just throw it out and go hungry than ask for them to correct it. His friends (and eventually Cueball) have to be the ones to step in and get it fixed, even when Bō insists they don’t have to, “I’m fine, really, I’m not that hungry anyways I swear!”

Another thing is that he’s afraid of the dark. This one was a result of his mom often locking him in their basement as a punishment whenever he acted up (i.e. just acting like a kid would). He’s embarrassed that he has to sleep with a night light, or really any sort of light, but his friends and Cueball are very accommodating of that.

Nunchaku

Appearance-wise she’s the one based off of Devil Theory’s summer palette. She was born and raised in the United States, specifically in California. Her parents placed a lot of pressure on her to be successful no matter the topic (school, sports, exercising, even just hobbies), but she could never meet their standards, nor did she really want to in the first place. This led to a lot of mental and emotional abuse related to that, most of it in the form of guilt-tripping her about not being able to do “better”.

Skateboarding was one hobby she kept secret from them, in particular because she knew they would try and force her to become the next Tony Hawk or something, when she wanted to keep it as a fun hobby for stress relief. Especially given everything else they were putting her through. Another hobby was fixing machines, including cars, which she mostly did in secret away from her parents lest they try and force her to study mechanical engineering or something.

After a certain point this escalated into physical abuse in the form of pushing Nunchaku past her limits for any physical training/exercising she did for sports in particular, as well as attempts to control her health and diet. In regards to school sports, they basically forced her to join just about every sport team the school had to offer, even if she hated the sport in question. There were times she thought she would die from a heart attack or just exhaustion in general. Other times she was either actually sick or just pretending to be sick in order to get out of practice and sneak off to finally relax.

She also wasn’t having a fun time at school anyways. She was pretty open about being a butch lesbian since maybe around middle school. Her parents at first tried to discourage it, but then eventually tried to use it to their advantage. In short, her dad was a local politician, a conservative one at that, and used his daughter as a sort of “See, I’m not a bigot, my daughter is a lesbian!” thing. Outside of that they didn’t really do much to be supportive, other than not mistreating her specifically because she’s a lesbian (which is, y’know, bare minimum).

Also, they didn’t bother helping her with the bullying she was dealing with at school over her identity and her being a part of every team (most of the other kids thought she was stuck up for doing that, not knowing/accepting that her parents were the ones to force her to do that). Most of Nunchaku’s real friends were either kids from outside of her school or online.

The latter is how she ended up friends with Sai, Daishō, and Bō! It was mostly a shared love of anime between the four of them, I think I mentioned that in the big DT post a while back? But yeah, eventually they became closer friends once they realized they were all deal with shitty parents, so then deciding to stick together and help support one another.

Truthfully, her eventual move to New Amsterdam was less “just moving”, and more her friends helping her successfully run away from home once she turned 18. As far as she knows, her parents have long since written her off as a “failure” and have stopped looking for her. She’s glad that they aren’t trying to drag her back, but deep down she’s also still hurt that they just gave up on her like that, after all the pressure they put on her.

Despite the whole “be good at ALL of the sports” obsession her parents had, Nunchaku still enjoys some sports and plays games with others. She’s just, y’know, not doing it to be the best, she just wants to have fun! Though there are times where she get competitive, like with writer stuff, but at least it’s on her own terms.

Daishō

Daishō, the leader of Devil Theory (also for appearance he’s the autumn palette), has been through some awful stuff himself. Though, a big part of his problems is that he’s convinced what he went through wasn’t nearly as bad as what his friends went through. Even though, trauma is not a competition. Still, I’ll get into that a bit more later.

Anyways, starting off with the root of his problems, his rich parents had a messy divorce around the time he was in early primary school (i.e. roughly early elementary school). The parents' animosity against one another was so bad to the point where they lived in separate houses, with Daishō actually living in a house of his own. His parents wanted to see each other as little as possible, so Daishō's "own" house would be where he was dropped off when he wasn’t meant to be with one of his parents. But because of how much both of them worked (and sometimes them going on vacations by themselves), he spent most of his time at that third house anyways.

He was basically cared for/raised by a nanny and a few housecleaners at this point, and those people were certainly a lot more like parents to him than his actual parents. He still sends his old nanny gift cards and stuff for the holidays, sometimes having lunch to catch up, etc. So just to emphasize, he has no love for either of his parents in the present day.

Anyways, both of his parents tried to manipulate him, in order to get him on their “side” against the other parent. Said manipulation changed often, but ranged from bribery, threats, and outright abuse. Never physical abuse, since they were at least careful not to leave “evidence” (with them thinking poor mental health resulting from shitty parents doesn’t count as evidence of anything bad).

Daishō himself was kind of desperate to either get his parents back together and maybe somehow fix the whole mess the three of them were in, or otherwise just get them to calm the hell down and leave him out of it. Him wanting to fix things was moreso when he was a kid, and then the latter was more as a teen when he started getting sick of their bullshit. Though sometimes his feelings would yo-yo between the two.

Eventually, all of this drama and manipulation led to an instance of attempted murder by his mother on him and his father. During which his father also left him for dead. Daishō got his foot almost hacked off by his own mom, but at least managed to get away despite what happened. The only other major downside to this is that she somehow got away with it in court. That whole thing basically killed what little hope he had left for either parent.

So from there, he just decided to beat them at their own game. Manipulating them, especially getting a ton of cash out of each of them in exchange for his "loyalty", telling lies about one parent to the other as “dirt” they could use later, stuff like that. After a certain point, he had effectively scammed enough money out of both of them that he felt safe enough to cut them both out of his life. The scamming was also enough to leave them both poor as hell, especially since they continued to use their respective money to try and get back at each other during all of this.

As far as he knows, his mom went back to her home country "in shame", while his dad just outright vanished. Good riddance either way, in his opinion.

So now going back to how he thinks what he went through wasn’t as “bad” as what the others went through. Other than the murder, he thinks it wasn't as bad because they weren't "directly" abusive towards him, at least not all of the time like what the other three went through.

Because of that he feels like he has to be the one to make sure everyone else is alright and happy. He has to be the one in charge, he has to be the one to fix things, he has to be the one to organize things, because his friends deserve to have that kind of happiness before he does.

Of course, with what happened in the game, he and his friends almost getting killed by Faux has put a lot of guilt on Daishō. Especially since he was mainly the one pushing for their deal with Faux, being convinced that Faux would have their backs and they could enjoy being All City and keep having fun together. With how badly things turned out, the guilt is still eating him up to this day...

One Last Section for Devil Theory

Just going over how each of them lost at least part of their legs, which led to all of them ending up with the cybernetic legs they have in the game:

With Sai, the cut on his lower leg got badly infected, made worse from him trying to hide it from both his friends and just people in general, not to mention being worried that going to the hospital might lead to him getting arrested if they found out what he did to his dad. Eventually it got bad enough that there was no saving it and he had to get that part of his leg amputated.

Bō lost part of his legs not from anything his mother did, but while he was an adult, long after being disowned by her. It was due to an accident (i.e. a failed secret test with a walking tank, where other people got injured as well), which got covered up by the police. Bō actually isn’t even sure what exactly happened that day, no one else who got injured know either, especially not that it was because of the police in the first place.

For Nunchaku, she lost most of her lower legs due to a factory accident as an adult. With her being new to New Amsterdam once she moved, she was in desperate need of a job, and ending up working for a shady factory that had a ton of questionable dealings and safety regulations. Her getting hurt lead to many other employees quitting, because it was the last straw and a bunch of other employees also got badly injured in the same accident. It was in fact the most severe accident at that factory up to that point, which led to it being finally shut down. She now works as a mechanic at a shop run by another former factory employee who was her mentor.

Lastly, for Daishō, when his mother tried to kill him, his foot ended up so mangled that he was better off just amputating it. It didn’t help that he also had to crawl and even walk with it for a while before he managed to get it looked at. Mostly because he went into hiding for a bit because, y’know, attempted murder.

With all of them getting injuries that resulted in cutting off a foot or lower leg (I'm imagining a bit after Bō's accident, that was the last one chronologically), Daishō ends up declaring, "Clearly we're all fucking cursed, let's just get this over with already." And paid for all of them to just get what's left of their lower legs replaced with fancy cybernetics, as seen in the game. This eventually leads them to becoming writers ("With these legs we could probably manage it pretty good, right?"), and then forming Devil Theory.

Not to mention the abuse all four of them faced, from their parents, and even other people like employers as adults, led to them adopting an "If the world wants to treat you like trash, then you should be allowed to trash it right back" kind of attitude. Hence how they act as Devil Theory.

Suffice to say, a lot of the problems they caused as Devil Theory would have been avoided if they all got some dang therapy!! Bō at least went for a bit as an older teen after being disowned, but stopped after a while, convincing himself he’s “fine” now. The rest refuse outright though also insist they're fine. They're not fine. They’ll get better eventually, but it will require someone convincing them that they’re not really fine, and them accepting that in turn.

So… I think that’s it. I know this is, a lot. So much. Maybe too much, lol. But if you read this all the way through, then thank you!!

[bendersmind]

Possession is Nine Tenths of the Music

Okay, so, not really but let me explain (and by "explain" I mean type into the void and hope that someone reads it). I watched the Hardrock Armchair short from "Rite Here, Rite Now" and shock of all shocks, it was a fucking promo for the new album. Or, at least, a telegraphing of the first single.

See, I'm a fan of shitty movies. And because I'm a fan of shitty movies I watch a lot of RedLetterMedia's "Best of the Worst". If you don't, you should. It's hype.

Anyway, three of the movies L.H. Kernson list specifically that are NOT rock docs but narrative films are "Rock 'N' Roll Nightmare", "Black Roses", and "Phantom of the Park". In all three of these movies the music played by the bands spurs a sort of possession in the hearers.

A fourth movie that was mentioned that is not trash(thus I have never actually watched it) was "Häxan". Said movie is a Swedish/Danish silent film that was released in the states as "Witchcraft Through the Ages". According to wikipedia it's a film essay based on the director's study of the "Malleus Maleficarum". For those of you who don't know, which I discovered entirely by accident while playing "Yuppie Psycho" with my friends is most people, that book is also known as "The Hammer of Witches" which was a witch hunting manual by a German madman. Even the contemporaries of the guy who wrote the book thought he was off his nut but it, regardless, became a witchunter manual for the whole fucking world.

Anyway, there is a scene that flashes where a devil is flicking his tongue at a bald pate friar. I guess someone let a Swedish film nerd into the writing room for that deep cut. Anyway, I doubt that the song "Satanized" being the first song with a video that references "Häxan" is a coincidence. Furthermore, L.H.Kernson's listing of three movies regarding possession by music is totes magoats a coincidence as well.

That isn't to say that the album itself isn't what Tumultuous Fringe says it is, an introspective album about human emotions and universal experiences, but thematically I could see much of it being around said human experiences being experienced as possession. Think about it fair reader, what emotion have you heard not attributed to "the devil" at least once? Pretty much every human experience is to be denied per the various incarnations of Christianity. Fuck, there were even anti-natalist groups because our current existence is hell and bearing children is satanic. Look it up! It's true! Protestants made shit weirder than it already was.

Simple explanation of the vomit you just read: Thematically I wouldn't be surprised if the songs of the album we get are human experience as lensed through a view of possession. This is based not only on "Satanized" being a direct reference to "Häxan" but also that the bonus content for "Rite Here, Rite Now" contained 3 shitty b movies that all focus around music being a vector for possession of the listener. Also Satanic Panic shit, but I did years of research on that in college and I'm still tired 15 years later.

Points for consideration: Does knowing that Theme Folly is not only a fan of good movies but also BAD movies makes me feel like less of a dumbass when experiencing his art? Does the same fucking weirdo compel me to actually watch classic films that I've ignored because "LOL, I'm dumb"? Do I really need to read "Phantom of the Opera" again? Why can I still not figure out the line of succession for the fucking Papas?!

P.s: Am I the only person that learned about "The Hammer of Witches" in grade school? Was that not part of the curriculum when talking about the inquisition? Or am I just the freak that went "ooo, some more light reading" like an edgelord Hermione Granger?

[cleoenfaserum]

THE DEVIL AND DANIEL WEBSTER (1941)

"The Play is the thing" pronounced by William Shakespeare in one of his writings so long ago that we don't know what he is talking about today. We have so many ways of listening and seeing and or listening and seeing that we do neither but what we are told. We are forgetting how to think because a lot of people are trying to do that for us, that is, the thinkers who have been taught by the thinkers in an everlasting mirror image reflecting its own image in another mirror mimicking itself infinitely. Perhaps this is what is meant by AI, that is, artificial inteligencie, and there are are some zombies that wash their brains everyday with the Television forgetting who we are. Here is an example. A classic. A short story made into a lot of medias. I want to take you to base roots, the short story itself latter turned movie. The audiobook is subtitled so you can follow along. Start there and later watch the movie and above all, think, think of what you have read and heard and latter seen. It will help you become human again. OH! And watch out for the Devil in miss Jones. (I don't want you to get the wrong picture). (Michael Paul's two bits)

Perhaps, before getting into the story, we should be asking ourselves who the hell is this grim good fearing looking dude Daniel Webster. I'll be brief.

Daniel Webster (January 18, 1782 – October 24, 1852) was an American lawyer and statesman who represented New Hampshire and Massachusetts in the U.S. Congress and served as the 14th and 19th U.S. Secretary of State under Presidents William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, and Millard Fillmore. Webster was one of the most prominent American lawyers of the 19th century, arguing over 200 cases before the United States Supreme Court in his career. During his life, Webster had been a member of the Federalist Party, the National Republican Party, and the Whig Party. He was among the three members of the Great Triumvirate along with Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun. (Read more: Daniel Webster - Wikipedia)

(701vid1) https://youtu.be/k5oZwHfpPVI

"The Devil and Daniel Webster" (1936) is a short story by American writer Stephen Vincent Benét. He tells of a New Hampshire farmer who sells his soul to the devil and is later defended by a fictionalized Daniel Webster, a noted 19th-century American statesman, lawyer and orator. The narrative references real events in the lives of Webster and his family.

The author also adapted it in 1938 as a folk opera, with music by Douglas Stuart Moore, a fellow Yale University alumnus. (Read more: The Devil and Daniel Webster - Wikipedia)

THE AUDIO BOOK

(701vid2) https://youtu.be/8OlGCDAGZDI

The Devil and Daniel Webster is a 1941 supernatural film based on the 1938 play adaptation of Stephen Vincent Benét's 1936 short story "The Devil and Daniel Webster". The play by Benét was in turn based on the libretto created by Benét for an opera adaptation of his short story with composer Douglas Moore, a project he began writing in 1937. Benét and Dan Totheroh adapted the play into the film's screenplay. The film's title was changed to All That Money Can Buy to avoid confusion with another film released by RKO that year, The Devil and Miss Jones, but later had the title restored on some prints. It has also been released under the titles Mr. Scratch, Daniel and the Devil and Here Is a Man. (The Devil and Daniel Webster (film) - Wikipedia)

THE FILM

(701vid3) https://youtu.be/Of3jYa8gq4M

I am going to conclude with a radio presentation of the story. It is something I love.

(701vid4) https://youtu.be/SEweUKITbvk

REF: 701 NOTES

The Devil and Miss Jones is a 1941 American comedy film directed by Sam Wood and starring Jean Arthur, Robert Cummings, and Charles Coburn. Its plot follows a department store tycoon who goes undercover in one of his Manhattan shops to ferret union organizers, but instead becomes involved in the employees' personal lives.

With a screenplay by Norman Krasna, the film was the product of an independent collaboration between Krasna and producer Frank Ross (Jean Arthur's husband). Their short-lived production company released two films through RKO Radio Pictures (Miss Jones and the later A Lady Takes a Chance released in 1943). The film was well received by critics upon its release and garnered Oscar nominations for Coburn and Krasna. (Read more: The Devil and Miss Jones - Wikipedia)

(701vid5) https://ok.ru/video/1105095822004

The Devil in Miss Jones is a 1973 pornographic film, written, directed and produced by Gerard Damiano and starring Georgina Spelvin and Harry Reems. It is widely regarded as a classic adult film,released during the Golden Age of Porn (1969–1984). After his 1972 success with Deep Throat, Damiano shot the film in a converted apple-packing plant in Milanville, Pennsylvania. Along with Deep Throat and Behind the Green Door, the film is associated with a time in American culture known as "porno chic", in which adult erotic films were just beginning to be widely released, publicly discussed by celebrities (like Johnny Carson and Bob Hope) and taken seriously by film critics (like Roger Ebert). The film's plot was inspired by the 1944 play No Exit by French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre. The Devil in Miss Jones went on to spawn numerous remakes and sequels. (Read more: The Devil in Miss Jones - Wikipedia) (701vid6)

Click to see the movie at your own risk... The. Devil.in. Miss. Jones. 1973.720p.x 264 Worldmkv : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

[erin-writes-ghost-fluff]

A bored ghoul and a cardinal

A/N: It was five thirty in the morning and a headcanon from my ghestie wouldn't leave my head. Sorry, it's a little short. I also don't know how I wrote this while listening to Joy Division-

Characters: Copia, Grave (OC)

Warnings: Tickles and some swearing

Summary: Copia becomes Grave's target, when she becomes bored.

~ ~ ~

The Cardinal noticed Grave a few minutes ago. She'd practically been stalking him out in the open, and nobody had said a word. It gave him quite a bit of anxiety, if he was being honest. All of the ghouls intimidated him. Even Grave, who was the smallest

They were creatures from Hell! Anybody would be a little scared of them! .... Except his brothers. He was convinced that they feared nothing. As he walked down the hallway leading to the unholy chapel, Grave growling softly now caught his attention.

He turned around, and saw she was hunched over just a little. Her expression was unreadable due to that damned mask.

"E-easy, girl...." Copia pressed himself against a nearby wall, watching helplessly as her growling grew louder and she drew closer.

Ohhhh, he thought she was serious! No wonder he was so frightened! She took off her mask, revealing both goat pupils now dilated and expanded. A soft smile spread made its presence known. Her tail began to wag as she got closer and closer.

Copia tilted his head to the side. "What are you doing?" He asked, wondering why her tail wagged like that, if she meant to attack and cause severe harm.

"Playin'." The irish ghoulette replied, before suddenly pouncing on him, taking the poor cardinal to the ground with her.

Before Copia could say anything more, he found himself bursting into startled, loud, shocked laughter, as Grave gently dug her claws into his ribs. He smothered his laugh into his hand, not wishing to disturb anyone that could be hearing this.

"Grave!" He spoke through his rising giggles, "let me go!"

She snickered, shaking her head, sneaking her tail up his cassock to get his stomach.

"Nah. This is more amusin'! I finished my stuff for the day.... So I figure I'd come have a little fun with ya!"

Copia squirmed, trying to escape her tail. No matter how he twisted and turned, it seemed there was no way to evade it. He squeaked in between his laughter, now attempting to grab it.

Why did she have to be one of the ghoulettes with the 'leaf tails' as he referred to them?! Some ghouls chose to present themselves with the classic looking barbed, devil tail.

And a few presented with a larger, fluffy, almost leaf looking tail. Why they did, nobody knew. Those were always harder to hide onstage but it managed. Those tails also proved to be horrible tickle weapons. Copia supposed it felt like one of those blush brushes.

"Stop with your tail!" He giggled, trying to now block her hands from his ribs.

He swore the longer her tail fluttered over his stomach, the worse it was. It didn't help that she still used her claws on his ribs, still being mindful and gentle to ensure she didn't hurt him.

The cardinal thrashed, boisterous laughter pouring nonstop from his lips, ranging from (in his opinion) embarrassing giggles to cackles, which fluctuated in pitch. Despite his own laughter, he could clearly hear Grave's own softer giggles.

She did not respond to his command with words, only snickering. She smirked upon hearing him snort. The ghoulette was pleased and amused to hear more that followed the first.

The pink on Copia's cheeks now darkened to pure crimson as he held his hands over his mouth and nose, trying his best to stop or at least muffle them. This was so embarrassing! Not to mention, highly unprofessional!

"Awww, c'mon Cardinal," Grave giggled, withdrawing her tail out of his cassock, now squeezing his sides, making him spill out further snort filled giggles.

"Your laugh is nothing to be embarrassed about! It's cute!"

How did she know?! Oh right.... Her powers were similar to Swiss. She had the ability to hear thoughts and read minds. Nobody was safe from her.

Seeing as she couldn't get at his stomach with her claws, she sent waves of tingles to the spot, relishing Copia's shocked squeal.

"GRAVE!" He howled, "N-not that! I hate it when you-" he couldn't speak for the belly laughter that took ahold of him.

The ghoulette purred, her tail swaying and wagging gleefully behind her as her laughter mingled with his. She was pleased with how this was turning out. Usually, she was caught before she could strike but Copia proved an easy target.

She liked his laughter, thought it was charming and felt he needed to smile more. He was always so anxious or on edge. And Copia was quickly becoming one of her favorite people, in the three days since Terzo had summoned her.

And he was so fun too! He gave some of the best reactions to getting tickled, and judging by his thoughts afterwards, he secretly enjoyed this little game. Before Grave could see if his legs were ticklish, a strong grip closed around the back of the collar of her uniform, lifting her off of the giggly cardinal and into the air.

The ghoulette came face to face with Secondo, who raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but according to his thoughts, he was just a little amused.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Secondo's voice rumbled, a smirk twitching its way onto his face at Grave's tongue sticking comically out of the corner of her mouth.

"Em... Playin'?" She offered as an explanation, a nervous grin upon her lips.

Secondo set the ghoulette down. She helped Copia to his feet, who giggled still, as he caught his breath.

"You know better than to disturb those that are working," Secondo reprimanded.

"She wasn't disturbing me, fratello," Copia assured him, trying to keep her from getting scolded, "I was on a break!"

The elder brother turned his attention to his younger sibling.

"Were you? Well.... Don't take too long. You know how Sister gets. As for you...."

He allowed a wry smile, looking at Grave. Never let it be said, Secondo didn't have a sense of humor. Though it was rare, often fleeting.

"Go do that to your boyfriend."

Grave blushed, putting her mask back on with a flustered huff.

"Wait..." Copia grinned, "you have a boyfriend? Who's your mate?"

She glared holes into Secondo, who chuckled quietly, enjoying seeing how his words got a rise out of her.

"Nobody! Papa Secondo's just bein' a gobshite!"

"She has a little crush on Phil. Follows him around any chance she gets. You should see it sometime, it's somewhat.... Endearing."

"Awwwww!" Copia laughed, "don't worry, I won't tell him!"

Grave growled in frustration, annoyed that it was so blatantly obvious. If it was obvious to everyone else.... Did Phil know too?

"You won't.... But I might." Secondo's grin was diabolical at this point.

Grave immediately tore down the hallway, looking for the ghoul in question, trying to make sure Secondo didn't already say anything. This wasn't how she wanted him to find out!

As Copia resumed his duties, he couldn't help but feel as though perhaps Grave wasn't as frightening as he thought. Maybe all of the other ghouls and ghoulettes weren't that bad.

Upon picking up on these thoughts, Grave smiled. Good to know she had changed his mind. And upon hearing his next thoughts she was already planning her next attack.

After all, he did just wonder if she'd do it again, sometime....

[mattievictoria]

Cursed Plants and Witch Trees

“Mountains overawe and oceans terrify, while the mystery of great forests exercises a spell peculiarly its own.” 

—Algernon Blackwood, The Willows

The above quotation is from Algernon Blackwood’s 1907 preeminent horror novella, The Willows, a story that’s stayed with me since I first read it years ago. I'm a huge fan of anything that falls under the category of “Spooky Nature” (if you haven’t figured that out by now!) and Blackwood’s novellas and short stories like The Willows and The Man Whom The Trees Loved hold a special place in my creepy, tree-hugging heart. When I sat down to write this, I wanted to take a cue from Algernon Blackwood’s book (quite literally!) and write something about cursed and/or haunted trees. HOWEVER, during the course of my deep-dive into the Vegetable Kingdom (as Blackwood referred to it in his many writings) I found that all of it super Cursed— yes, Cursed with a capital C, because we’re talking Serious Business here. So, I’ve expanded my original idea beyond trees to include a variety of frightening flora, and I’ve chosen four plants to discuss: Elder Trees, Parsley (you’ll be surprised! Parsley is exceptionally Cursed), Hemlock, and of course, The Willow. I hope you’re prepared to take a casual stroll through the deep, dark woods. Take caution, however; there may be something foul and eldritch hiding in the underbrush… 

Elder 

 In his book Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics, Richard Folkard relates an incredible Russian proverb: From all old trees proceeds either an owl or a devil. If there was a tree from whence the devil sprung forth from the fiery depths of hell, it would be the Elder. The nefarious reputation of the Elder dates back thousands of years, and in pre-Christian Europe, the Elder Tree was associated with magic and  witchcraft. A type of dryad known as Hylde-Moer, or The Elder Tree Mother, was said to inhabit the Elder Trees of Denmark. One must always ask the permission of Hylde-Moer in order to cut down her tree and use her wood. If a wood chopper did not ask permission, the Elder Tree Mother herself would stalk those who took her wood and used it without her consent, giving them no rest. When Christianity was introduced into Europe, it was a common belief that the tree Judas hung himself from after betraying Jesus was an Elder. Some people even claimed that it was elder wood that built the cross that Jesus was crucified on. 

Elder trees are inherently linked to witches and witchcraft. There is a story told in Northamptonshire about a father who cut off a branch from an Elder for his son, only to watch in horror as the tree started to bleed. As they made their way home after the terrifying incident, they came across a woman in town who was said to be a witch… a fresh bandage wrapped around an injured arm. In Ireland and the British Isles, many claimed that witches would ride broomsticks and use wands made of elder wood. It was also a common belief that witches could transform into Elder Trees (like in the tale from Northamptonshire) and there were even stories in Denmark of Elders creeping around at night, peering into the windows of unsuspecting homes. However, because apparently fighting fire with fire does work, Elder is a common counter-charm to battle witchcraft. One sure-fire protection against witchcraft were elderberries picked on— you guessed it— St. John’s Eve (because this wouldn’t be a folklore article about plants if I didn’t mention St. John’s Eve at some point).

Parsley (and Celery?)

It may come as a surprise, but Parsley is a plant with a particularly Cursed history. From my understanding, Parsley and Celery, both in the family Apiaceae, have been confused for one another as far back as Ancient Greek writings have been studied by Classical scholars. I am not  a Classical scholar, however, and it seems like the Celery-Parsley debate was hotly contested well into the 20th century. As a result of this centuries-long dispute, I’ll be using both plants interchangeably. In Ancient Greece, both Parsley and Celery were associated with funerary rites and the dead. The origins of Parsley are attributed to the Greek Hero Archemorus, and it was said that Parsley sprung from wherever Archemorus’ blood seeped into the Earth. Victors of Greek Funerary games were given garlands of Parsley for this reason. Gravesites in Ancient Greece were adorned with Parsley, and Parsey was also associated with Persephone as well as Charon. Ancient Greek philosophers Chrysippus and Dionysus both thought it a grave offense to eat both Parsley and Celery, which should be reserved solely for funerary feasts. 

Somewhere down the line, Parsley became viewed as some kind of Spawn of Satan in England and subsequently, The US. It was said that “Parsley grows only for the wicked” and required three plantings— one for the gardener and two for the Devil. In parts of the Eastern US, Parsley was blown on to the seedbed from pages of the Bible. All of this is news to me; I’m a quarter Lebanese and let me tell you, tabouli enthusiasts everywhere (myself included) are probably confused, if not a little horrified. I did some research, and the Ancient Romans did not share the Greek’s grim view of Parsley. In fact, the Roman cookbook Apicius contains many recipes including parsley/celery. I have my own thoughts on this, and will elaborate in the next section. In the meantime.. be careful with planting and transporting Parsley, okay? 

Hemlock

Unlike our previous subject matter, Hemlock being on this list should come as no surprise to you. Interestingly enough —and this ties in with my theories about why Parsley became so Cursed— Hemlock is also in the family Apiaceae, much like Parsley. This family also includes popular favorites such as Celery (as I previously mentioned) Carrot, Parsnip, and a ton of other everyday vegetables and herbs. Hemlock has been referred to as “Poison Parsley '' and many other poisonous members of the Apiaceae family are similarly named, such as Fool’s Parsley (Aethusa cynapium) and Spotted Parsley (Cicuta maculatah). Hemlock is a highly poisonous plant, and every inch of it contains the toxic alkaloid coniine— which is fatal even in small doses. Hemlock is most known for being the poison Socrates was made to drink when sentenced to death for impiety and corrupting the youth of Ancient Greece. Again, I’m not a Classical scholar so I don’t know what became of Socrates after his forced suicide (and apparently google doesnt know either) but perhaps a garland of parsley was left on his tomb by one his many followers. This was a bit of a tangent, but I can’t help but feel the association that Parsley has with death and the devil are somehow related to its cousin, poison Hemlock. 

But, I digress, back to the folklore. In the northern parts of Europe, most notably England, Hemlock was an important asset in a witch’s pharmacopœia. The root of hemlock, which was “digged in the dark”, was a favorite among all of those who practiced witchcraft, along with nightshade and vervain. The plant and herb were powerful tools of the witch, and must be harvested properly, often in accordance to moon phases. Roots, like the hemlock root, were usually harvested in the dark of the moon, which sounds really cool and witchy, but there is a scientific reason for it. According to LocalUMass.com, “light, and heat from the sun and moon draw a plant’s nutrient-dense fluids (the source of their medicinal properties) upwards and into their stems, leaves, flowers, fruits and seeds. Therefore, when it is coldest and darkest, roots are most robust.” 

Listen, everything about hemlock is spooky in the best way possible. I will leave you with Hosea 10:4, which makes me think of a quote from Piers Haggard’s iconic 1971 folk horror film, Blood On Satan’s Claw. 

“They have spoken words, swearing falsely in making a covenant: thus judgment springeth up as hemlock in the furrows of the field.”

Willows 

I began this post with a quote from The Willows, and so we have finally made it to the titular Cursed Tree of Blackwood’s masterpiece of Weird Literature. Artists, like Algernon Blackwood, have been writing, painting, and singing about the Willow Tree for as long as mankind has been capable of expressing themselves through art. Throughout this long and storied history, the Willow has been associated with grief, death, wisdom, and longing, as well as being described as a bridge between our world and something else entirely. In Greek mythology, Orpheus carried a willow on his person during his visits to the underworld. Hecate, Greek Goddess of witchcraft ( as well as crossroads, the moon and many other things) is associated with the willow. Like Hecate, the willow tree is analogous with the moon, and is placed under the sign of the moon by astrologers. The Weeping Willow, in particular, has a strong association with death and the other side. In China, where they originate, Weeping Willows are used to mark gravesites. 

In her book, Discovering The Folklore of Plants, Margaret Baker comments that individuals traveling through Exmoor have been stalked by willow trees moving on their own accord after nightfall; dark whispers trailing behind travelers on long stretches of solitary road. I can’t help but wonder, were these stories that inspired Blackwood? It brings me back to the Elder Trees in Denmark, peering into dim windows long after the sun has set.

I want to end on one more literary passage concerning the subject of Willow Trees, because as I mentioned previously, Willows have been capturing the imaginations of artists for centuries. From Christina Rosetti’s poem The Willow Shade: 

Slow wind sighed through the willow leaves,

The ripple made a moan,

The world drooped murmuring like a thing that grieves;

And then I felt alone.

I rose to go, and felt the chill,

And shivered as I went;

Yet shivering wondered, and I wonder still,

What more that willow meant

~

If I’m being honest, I feel like I’ve only really scratched the surface of the wide-ranging, fascinating subject that is Cursed Plants and Witch Trees. But I hope, however, that you have found this interesting, or even a place to start your own research (which I highly recommend you do!) Of course, I will include my sources which can also act as a guide for further reading! (Friends, it has been a hot minute since I’ve written in any kind of MLA format so please let me know if something is incorrect!) 

If you take one thing away from this, remember: always ask The Elder Mother before you chop her tree down, and for god’s sake, please make sure you’re consuming parsley and not hemlock! 

Bibliography and Further Reading 

“As Above, so Below: Digging Roots and Scattering Seeds under the Scorpio Moon.” SUSTAINABILITY, www.localumass.com/blog/as-above-so-below-digging-roots-and-scattering-seeds-under-the-scorpio-moon. Accessed 6 June 2022.

Andrews, Alfred C. “Celery and Parsley as Foods in the Greco-Roman Period.” Classical Philology, vol. 44, no. 2, Apr. 1949, pp. 91–99, 10.1086/363177. Accessed 3 Jun. 2022.

Baker, Margaret L. Discovering the Folklore of Plants. Oxford, Shire, 2008.

Folkard, Richard. Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics, Embracing the Myths, Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-Lore of the Plant Kingdom, by Richard Folkard ... London, S. Low, 1884.

M Grieve. A Modern Herbal : The Medicinal, Culinary, Cosmetic and Economic Properties, Cultivation and Folklore of Herbs, Grasses, Fungi, Shrubs and Trees with All Their Modern Scientific Uses. London England, Tiger Books International, 1998.

Mockler, W. E. “Moon Lore from West Virginia.” Folklore, vol. 50, no. 3, Sept. 1939, pp. 310–314, 10.1080/0015587x.1939.9718183. Accessed 12 Dec. 2021.

“Scholar Tree & Willow Tree | Dartmouth Folklore Archive.” Journeys.dartmouth.edu, journeys.dartmouth.edu/folklorearchive/2018/11/11/scholar-tree-willow-tree/. Accessed 6 June 2022.

“Willow Tree Mythology and Folklore.” Trees for Life, treesforlife.org.uk/into-the-forest/trees-plants-animals/trees/willow/willow-mythology-and-folklore/.

[streets-in-paradise]

The Good Guy

American Horror Story:Hotel, Chucky and Supernatural crossover fanfiction - Part 2 

Masterlist

Word Count  8.719

Characters (main): Andy Barclay, Cassandra/ Val ( AHS Hotel OC), James Patrick March. The Countess ( mentioned), Chucky (mentioned). There is also a short contextual appearance of Donovan and Iris. 

Warnings: This includes references to some of the fictionalized versions of real life serial killers that this season of AHS portrayed in Devil’s Night. None of them show up as characters, but their passing by the hotel is mentioned. 

Relationships: Platonical: James and Cassandra’s bond as father and daughter. Initial hints of development for her friendship with Andy. 

                        Romantical: James March x Elizabeth “The Countess” (James’s one sided obsession with her), Donovan x The Countess, Donovan x Cassandra ( mentions to a past of unrequired love on her part.) 

Summary: Andy follows the trail of Chucky to Los Angeles, dragged there by the news of mysterious deaths happening around the production of a horror movie. The search takes him to the Hotel Cortez, where he checks in following the stay of potential victims of the killer doll. 

There he will find himself unwittingly trapped between the opposed interests of the hotel’s owner and his daughter in a new game being played over his free will. 

Notes:  In this I’m picking up the original concept for the first Child’s Play film regarding the doubts about Andy’s innocence and I made a little reference to the origins of Chucky’s full name. 

Also, I’m in the process of rewatching Hotel. The last time i watched it was like in 2018, so I apologise in advance for any mistakes regarding details of the season’s plot. I do remembered the greek mythology references that James did on his speech in Devil’s Night and that was a great inspiration for this, March loving classic literature feels canon to me. 

Tags: @mysticaldeanvoidhorse​ @losersclubisms​ ( I don’t know if you would want to be tagged, but i’m showing you this like a child who shows an ugly draw with excitement lol) 

Hotel Cortez - 2004 

Cassandra wasn't able to think of anything else because guilt wouldn't let her. That sharp feeling in her chest that she thought forgotten was striking again. An emotion meant for children in the world she lived in, if there was such a thing as childhood for any kid in that place. Growing up was embracing apathy, resigning to the triumph of evil. After all, who was she to expect otherwise? From all the macabre things populating that hotel, her existence was one of the most unholy. Like her brother, she could be judged as an abomination, an infernal experiment who shouldn't have existed. Many times she has heard that from the spirits of dead hunters who rejected her post mortem help, some of them after getting themselves killed for ignoring her advice. 

Bartholomew didn't count with her same luck because he came before her, at a time where their parents weren't fully aware of the infinitive possibilities in the world of the occult. Death showed James the way, but it took decades for him to realize the unlimited potential of his power on that limited territorial space. He was a gatekeeper for Hell, everything he would desire would be granted as long as he would fulfill his task... and what he once wanted was another child. A girl, since he and his wife already had a boy. A princess for his castle, a little thing to play family with from time to time on the sporadic dinner visits of the Countess to him, a bridge between them to keep her close. 

Self awareness wasn't his strength and he liked to face his eternal life as a ghost under the delusion of having a happy marriage with a vampire woman who actually despised him, but who also happened to love collecting children to satisfy the maternal desires in her. Hell granted his wish and he got her, a daughter given to him without conception. A witch, her special nature making her irresistible for the mother to grow fond of due to the peculiarity she represented among her children. Their marriage was broken beyond repair, but sharing her gave James an illusion of improvement that was close to happiness. 

Despite everything, Cassandra still loved her family and that was the most twisted aspect of her situation. The differences in her nature were the primary factor creating a distance between their ways and hers. Living there was hard for someone with her gifts, it implied a sharper perception of the darkness surrounding them. She learned to block to some extent the suffering of the prisoner spirits only after years of hard work with a very powerful witch that was consulted to help her talents flourish. However, that differential sensitivity experimented during a good chunk of her life setted a precedent in her personality. For as much as she would wish to block it as well, she developed empathy. 

Then more than ever, it was biting her in the ass.

The Cortez was receiving a new special guest, another unlucky bastard who checked in without knowing that he would be selected to become James' new project. His obsession continued after death and his primary hobby was manipulating chosen targets into the making of a serial killer capable of following his legacy and finishing his unconcluded work. He never pushed it on her, he didn’t feel like doing it because her existence fulfilled a different need. Besides, getting to see the development of her particular talents was enough to make him proud of her as a parent. 

Over the years, Cassandra observed many individuals come and go from the cursed corridor leading to room 64, most of them not remarkable enough to reach fame because only the worst of the worst would hit the headlines. With her name as fate, she pointlessly tried to warn many of them about the manipulations they would be being submitted to, as she also would do later for their victims about to be killed when there was no more hope on that front. Her words would inevitably fall on deaf ears and she would remain as a powerless observant of people running with excitement to their own demises. James liked to see it as a game to play with her, a way of bonding. In his point of view, it was a strategic game of influence. His lovely girl represented good while he was evil, both playing for the souls of selected mortals like a delightfully offensive biblical parody. He loved it, the minor challenge created by her irruptions made things more exciting. Being the caring father he considered himself to be, he was always there to comfort her on each defeat. The results were mostly in his favor, victories for her were extremely rare. 

Two years before, after the death of Aileen Wournos, she decided to drop it out of inconmensurable hopelessness. That woman wasn’t one of the persons she tried to warn, she was too little at the time of her stay. However, perhaps because she was the only woman in that elite group of killers and she had vague memories about her that were rather depressing, her case had an emotional impact on her. 

The warnings to the living stopped, she began to focus more in blocking the mourning spirits instead of helping. After two full years of staying at margin she believed herself ready to embrace apathy, to become careless once and for all.

Until he checked in to wake her up of her delusion. 

The new guest was a sweet,shy man named Andy. They were around the same age, both being in their early twenties, and she felt an immediate connection with him. 

Unfortunately, James picked him for himself on the spot. 

A short peek into the room confirmed for him that he arrived armed to the teeth. The lack of any magical protection tokens disqualified him as a hunter, so he guessed that the young man was a killer of his own kind preparing his spree. James was very excited, but his daughter disagreed with the choice regardless of the evidence. Andy was quiet and sometimes even a bit awkward, but he wasn't Jeffrey Dahmer. 

There was no depravity on him, no repression of obscure desires of a similar kind. He was sad, living in fear, and his darkness was closer to a depressing paranoia. Her readings of him pointed him as the survivor of some tragedy and her personal guess was locating it in his childhood. He had the blatant lack of security of someone who never got to feel sheltered and safe, who never got to be a child. 

In the course of his days there, she began to become obsessed with him. He was a good person, a kind man in an unbearable amount of emotional pain that he wouldn't or couldn't share with anybody. Imagining what her father would make of him became intolerable to her and she was feeling the inmintent urge of protecting him. 

Guilt and a tenue light of renovated hopes forced her back on the game. She liked Andy with his sweet awkwardness and his kindness making her feel good in his company at every little meeting they would get. 

Even if he wouldn't listen, she was going to warn him.

It was past midnight, the worst hour of the place was getting closer and she had to find him before some horrible vision could disturb him. On the search she accidentally stumbled across Donovan. A mistake of the rush, since she usually tried to avoid him as much as possible because she didn't want more troubles. Things weren't at their best with her mother and it was partially because of him. 

She wished he could just pretend he didn’t catch her, but he wasn’t going to let things go that way. 

“ For how long are you going to keep ignoring me? It’s getting boring, Cass.“ He commented, cutting her any route of escape for that talk as he began to walk beside her. 

 " I have time to get over it, but that doesn't mean that I'm forgiving you. " She replicated, forcing eye contact for an instant just to prove that she was perfectly able to stare back at him." You humiliated me. " 

His expression had a certain amount of disbelief. 

" It was a natural reaction, I was surprised." He excused himself. " I'm curious... Did you really think that you could have had a chance with me? Did I actually break your heart, is that why you ignore me? " 

" You are still alive because I allowed it, dad wanted you dead. " She clarified, reconquering her pride. " I told him that it would be pointless. You aren't worth the pain, you are already dead and ready to stay here for an eternity. Turning you into a ghost only changes your species, but you would be the same asshole." 

" Are you a daddy's girl now? Is that why you changed me for that loser?”  Donovan teased, mocking her weird obsession with Andy. " It's so sad, you must be so full of spite to do that. I don't want to give you hopes for saying this, but you are too pretty for him. You will never be The Countess, but that doesn't have to push you into looking so beneath your league. " 

Cassandra didn’t care to dissimulate her annoyance and proceeded to cut him off. 

" You are ríght, I will never be her. I found you interesting because I used to think that you were something more than a vain,entitled manchild. She knows who you are and wants you like that." She snarked back with satisfaction. " ... Goodnight, happy hunt. Take care of those fangs and try not to stink of blood afterwards. " 

She was going to follow her intended path, but one last snark of his stopped her tracks. 

" You say that I'm the manchild, but he is the one who came here to pick up his toys. " 

" What the hell are you talking about?" 

" Your good guy is too messed up in the head. " He explained, almost laughing at his own punchline. " I catched him stalking those guys from the studio like a total creep. What's your deal with him? Did you have a massive standard drop after I rejected you? It's frankly offensive to see you moving on from me to that freak. March's newest creep, seriously? And he is not even cute, you could have replaced me with someone who fills my shoes. " 

" I don't owe you any explanations. If you think that the only reason someone can have to care for anyone else is that, then that is your problem and I'm the one who should feel sorry for you. It's not my fault if she taught you that when she rescued you.” Cassandra concluded, letting go for the first time an impression of a point that she knew that could hurt him. " I do think that Andy is cute, by the way. He may not be a model looking dude like you, but he doesn't need it. He has his own thing going on, very cute." 

" He is a ridículous nutjob. Hasn't he told you yet that killer doll bullshit he has been saying to everyone? " 

He didn’t, but she had already heard commentaries about it coming from the ones who got to hear him. She even catched him once talking about it with Liz at the bar and switching the topic the moment they saw her. Knowing that it bothered her, Liz tried to cheer her up that time claiming that he wasn’t comfortable with telling her about it because she must have been the only person in the hotel whose opinion he cared about enough to worry about sounding crazy. 

" The guys he creeped? He told them that Chucky was going to kill them because of some movie their studio was making. By the way: Chucky is a doll.” Donovan continued, understanding her silence as a need for context explanation.” He asked every single alive and dead person of the staff if they may have seen it, he even came to me doing warnings of the great danger he thinks we are all facing. The stupid asshole thinks that the doll is doing the killing here!!!" 

Strong chuckles coming out of him forced the telling to be interrupted for an instant. 

" ... A freaking doll!! It's hilarious, we all should thank March for picking one of the funny weirdos this time. " 

She didn't find it funny. 

" You are a vampire, I'm a witch, we live among an infestation of ghosts, we are ruled by one and do I have to mention the Addiction Demon? How can anything sound crazy to you? " She complained. " Andy is a mortal trying to make sense with this cursed place, he will evocate for it the craziest things. Don't be a dick just because I don't find reasons to be skeptical. Many forms of magic use dolls, voodoo being the most known of the list." 

" C'mon, nobody can take him seriously! Can you imagine it? Chucky, a little doll with his little feet and tiny hands chasing someone down the hallway? Holding a knife? Strangling someone? It's a fucking joke. " 

“ What is your explanation then?” 

" He has been killing for years, but he isn’t conscious of it and March is going to wake him up. I wouldn't grow fond of him if I were you. " 

It was a warning out of kindness, his way of proposing a truce, but Cassandra prefered to believe in her own self imagined theory. It was easier for her to imagine Andy as the víctim of some voodoo curse than thinking that he could be yet another serial killer with an alter ego symbolizing childhood. Chucky the doll couldn’t be another Pogo the clown, there had to be another explanation. 

The descriptions that Donovan made didn't disencourage her. Killer doll thing aside, Andy's heroic behavior was indisputable. His first instinct to the perceptions of the paranormal activity surrounding them was wanting to help people, warning them of the danger. Reckless, but incredibly kind hearted. That was who Andy was, a clumsy but well intentioned guy whose will to help could often surpass his preservation instinct. 

A genuinely good person, the rare kind that was worth fighting for. 

After a moderately desperate search, she found him in the corridor that led to his room and he was a mess. Sat on the floor with his back against the door, he was crying out of impotence and confusion. 

" No,no,no.." She rushed to comfort him, sitting beside him and not minding for anything else. " Darling, what's wrong?" 

Andy replied without daring to look at her. 

" It doesn't matter, you wouldn't believe me. No one does. " 

The resignation in his tone as he tried to control the sobbing in her presence hitted her hard. She had been there before. 

" Don't say that, lovely. I will, if you tell me. I promise. " 

The softness of her voice and the real caring that was easily perceptible in her were tempting him to do it, but he was afraid of being open and honest with her. 

" You will leave if i tell you, it wouldn't be the first time that happens. " 

He still refused to look at her and she began to stroke his hair in a calming way. 

" What if I tell you that I can see things that most people can't?" She wondered in an affirmation, with sweet excitement. " I have been called crazy before, I can tell many things that you wouldn't believe. " 

Andy remained silent for an instant before feeling the courage to talk.

" I heard screams, followed the sound and there was this man... He was stabbed everywhere, bleeding out in front of me and then .. he was gone. " 

The disturbed emotions dificulted the telling, but she had a vague idea of what he saw. An echo, ghost trapped in the infinite repetition of the moment of death. The description made her think that he could be one of the main sacrifices of Devil's Night. Dying in such horrible and confusing circumstances often turned them into the most confused spirits of the place. 

"People always come to die here, that's not something we can stop. This place can not be destroyed,only closed, but a power greater than us needs it open. The man you saw could have died years ago. " She tried to explain to him without alarming him even more. " Most hotels are haunted in some way. Some more, some less. I have struggled with horrible visions my whole life. It ruined my childhood. " 

Andy dared to shyly look at her and she smiled for him. It was her way to show him that she was fine. 

That time, he was who felt called out in her sayings. 

" Do you believe in ghosts?" He asked, a vague startpoint to check if the feeling that he was getting from her was correct. 

" Of course, there are good ghosts and bad ones. Spirits used to be people, their world is as diverse and complex as humanity." 

" How about when a serial killer dies?"

The opportune question was on point for the warnings that she initially intended to give him. She felt as if he would have read her mind and replied with clear thoughts she had about her father and his friends, the merryly cursed group that Andy was about to be guided into joining. 

" The ones bringing death to others are usually the most terrified about their own deaths. It's tables turning, karma or whatever. The only thing that scares them more than death is the police arriving." 

He let go a little chuckle, cute despite the context. It was like both knew more about the topic than what they were willing to confess to each other. 

" So, you believe that those can choose to stay because they like to keep hurting people. " 

" Because they are scared. " She corrected him. " Even the most disorganized are creatures of habit, but death shakes everything they knew before. It equates them with their victims, reminds them that they are human. Plenty of serial killers enjoy believing themselves above the rest of humankind, they think that they are stronger because they dared to break the barriers that civilized morals establish for what is human. Death leaves them in the same hopeless condition of the people they killed, strips them from clinging to that delusion. It's the moment of truth and not all of them can take it. " 

He was watching and listening to her in awe. With each answer he felt a bit closer to his first chance of being understood without proof. His hopes were being nurtured as hers. 

" Are you a medium, a True Crime researcher or what?" 

" Neither of both things,something in the middle. I know way too much about dead seríal killers to not be called crazy. " She pointed out, teasing her own confession. " Also about a few who are still alive, but we are occupying ourselves with the dead ones now.. Dead serial killers and their smart haunting mechanisms to avoid facing their final judgements." 

" Like, for instance... Possessing a doll ?" He asked what he meant as an affirmation, excitement changing his semblant to the possibility of finding someone who could believe in him. " Do you think that can be a thing?" 

" ... Or possessing entire buildings, like this hotel. " She added, fearing afterwards for the awkward switch. " ... But yeah, dolls too. Why not? The dark spirit can be a minimalist. " 

At that point, everything encouraged him to continue. 

" Do you believe in magic? Not card tricks, witchcraft. " 

" Yes, I do. " The witch innocently confirmed, still not ready to come out to him as what she was. " Do you want to know something more? I believe that there is a fascinating and dangerous correlation between serial killers and magic. " 

" No way!!! Really? " He exclaimed with evident enthusiasm. " Please, explain it." 

"The majority don't accomplish shit, but lots of them fantasize about controlling some form of mystical power. I guess it is part of their delusion of being exceptional. There are tons of examples: Richard Ramírez and his obsession with satanism, Jeffrey Dahmer and the zombies. He used the means of a mad scientist, but the ends were essentially magical. What he would have needed to fulfill his twisted dream was some good old voodoo or greek necromancy. Things would have been far worse then. It's terrifying, thinking about what a maniac can do with the ríght book. “

" It’s horrible. " Andy followed her, the validation obtained on their talk was priceless. It was more than what he ever expected. 

" Did you come across one, Andy? A maniac who found the ríght book? Is that what you hope to find here? " 

He gave her an avoidant reply, 

" What do you know about voodoo?" 

" Not much, but I can start researching for you."

They remained silent, subtly staring at each other before bursting into laughter. Incontrolable chuckles shared in the non addressed happiness of being listened to. Out of sudden, Cassandra huged Andy as if they would have known each other for a lifetime. He didn't see it coming, but allowed it because it felt nice. 

The support of a stranger who wouldn't have any reasons to believe them was precisely what both weren't expecting to find on each other. His truth isolated him from anyone new he would try to approach, while she remained somewhat in service of the hotel because she could only share hers with the perpetual residents. 

 Where else would she feel understood, if the only life she knew was there? Who would want to be with her, if the only connections she had could be counted among the obscure creatures of the hotel? She believed for so long that there was nothing left for her outside, only loneliness and eventual death by the hands of some hunter that would get to her with ease without the dark protection of the Cortez over her.  The moments of connection felt with someone from the outside were enough to reanimate the questioning, to make her doubt everything.

The exactitude she had in the following of his trail of thoughts weirded Andy a little bit, but he was more amazed than scared. He had spoken with tons of other unaware people before, but that never happened. She proved not only to be willing to believe him, but also formulated a correct theory by herself. Was she more aware than what he believed her to be or simply crazier than average? In any way, he was feeling grateful for the non asked support found so atypically. 

The blissful moment ended with an interruption. 

" Get up, sunshine. You have work to do, if you still want it. Room 37." Iris told the girl, ignoring the context with certain disgust. 

Cassandra stared back at her to show that she understood the true meaning of her ask. 

After that, her attention was back on Andy. 

" I loved to have this talk with you. " She softly told him. " Not many people would bother to listen to me, my ideas are too strange for most. They don't get that living here for so long is what shapes them. Experience teaches you to keep an open mind everyday if you live here long enough. "  

Andy gave her an awkward smile while he clumsily stood up at the same time she did. 

" Rich people are too skeptical, I guess. " Was all he could manage to answer. " It was great, thank you..." 

" ... Cassandra. " She finished, reminding him of her name because he was getting nervous. Probably ashamed while watched over by Iris, who seemed to be surveilling their interaction with tattling interest. " You are welcome, Andy. Sweet dreams, you need to rest. If someone or something bothers you let me know. Don't be afraid of coming to me. It doesn't matter how crazy it would sound to you, I will believe you. " 

He avoided her glance before replying. 

" ... I will. Thank you, Cassandra. " 

She gave him a kiss on the cheek as part of her goodbye before following the very impatient woman. Andy watched her from afar, still struggling to process what happened, and returned to his room. 

What he found there almost ruined his mood because of the off putting weirdness. There was a man in front of his improvised desk, sitting on his chair and reading all his gathered information about Chucky. Notes,newspaper articles from past murders and the current ones he was trying to connect to him, some very few police reports he accomplished to get. He was calmly revisiting everything as if he intended to do the work for him, like if they were in some sort of partnership. 

They had met before, a very polite man of high status who used to frequently stumble across him. They would even involve in some talking every time because he was just that much friendly and eccentric. 

He had no idea how the man of strange accent and vintage clothes entered his room. 

" Andrew!!" He saluted him with his usual formal cordiality, abandoning his readings. " I took some liberties to check on your efficiently cataloged work. I hope you don't mind my intromission, dear boy." 

"... I would like to know who gave you my key." 

The recrimination didn't bother him in the slightest. 

" Nonsensical details distracting you from the truly important matters. " He simply replicated. " I must say I found this fascinating except for just one aspect: the signature. It's bizarre, reputation damaging. We will have to start working on finding something better for you, more frightening and mature than those hideous dolls. It was understandable for your developmental years, but It isn't functional anymore." 

"... That is private, you weren't supposed to read it. " Andy complained, trying to dissimulate his annoyance and the lack of understanding he had over most things coming out of him. 

" Is this Charles Lee Ray your lifetime's inspiration? You seem quite obsessed with him." He casually wondered. " The Lakeshore Strangler was frankly mediocre. Over the same decade he was completely outshined by the Night Stalker. I understand that he operated in your home city, but he is unworthy of your devotion. There are greater things in your future, you will triumph where he failed!" 

Andy couldn't or didn't want to understand what he meant, so he limitated que to thank what he interpreted as aware encouragement. 

" Taking him down is all I have wanted since I was six. " He explained as part of his attempt to make him head out of the room. " I appreciate your good intentions, Mr March, but I don't feel comfortable allowing others to get involved. I work alone." 

His listener interpreted his words equally wrong. 

" Only six years old.... Astonishingly young!!” James commented, marveled. " You are a prodigy, It would be my pleasure to guide you in a complete exploration of your potential."

He almost forgot how fed up with that place he was. All Andy needed to do was wait until Chucky would show up to kill the guests from the studio that intended to make a movie about him, but it was taking more time than all the previous deaths surrounding the production. 

No signs of him, but an imminent feeling of constant danger caused by the impression of being surveilled. Chucky could be everywhere or nowhere and he had no way to know. Despite what Cassandra told him about the shade of a man he tried to help, the stabwounds said otherwise to him. She may have seen a lot of ghosts, but she didn't know Chucky like he did. The thought of his very much hated old plastic buddy coming to get her became unbearable to him. 

" If you want to help me, keep an eye on Cassandra. The Countess doesn't seem that worried about her daughter, but if you are an old time resident, she must trust you." He asked, unaware of being talking with her father. " Keep her safe, it wouldn't look good if I do it. I would come to her as a stalker and she wouldn't trust me anymore. Make sure she is okay, it is important. She has been so sweet to me, if anything happens to her..." 

" That girl is the light in my eyes, I love her as much as I love her mother. " March clarified, slightly pleased to hear him praise her. " Count with it, there is no need for your heroism. Not at least in the current sense of the word. " 

Andy was feeling progressively more confused. 

" I'm not a hero. " 

" Yet, you are not, but you will be." James introduced another one of his philosophical rambles about literarian iconography. " Do you know what being a hero used to mean before cristian knights and saints co-opted that term? ... Exceptional, remarkable, a conception disprovisted of any moral valoration. A hero used to be anyone who dared to perform acts beyond mortality. A man beyond humanity, not a holy man.” 

" I appreciate whatever you think you are doing, but I don't care. " 

" I'm trying to teach you a valuable lesson. " March insisted. " Think, for instance, of the classical heroes. Each one of them formed a reputation through certain abilities and an específic code of conduct that implied the committing of inhumane crimes. Achilles was the fastest and most brutal, known for the horrendous malice of his vengeance over the corpse of Hector. Odysseus was the most intelligent, his mind plannified the prolific genocide of the trojans. Heracles was the strongest, but he was also known for being the murderer of his entire family. Then we have the House of Atreus: child sacrifices, antropofagy, incest and parricide." 

" I don't see your point, sorry. " Andy cutted him off, visibly tired and confused. 

" Villains were an invention of cristians, being a hero used to mean becoming able to perform acts against nature. Exceed the limits of humanity and be worshiped or feared in the memory of the people. To leave your mark in history, become a legend. " James concluded the explanation. " You are not like everyone else, Andrew. Your exceptionality isolates you because you are not meant to belong among them. Fame, glory and immortality is what awaits those who are brave enough to leave humanity behind. " 

The intricate speeches weren't feeling good to him, he got the sense that something was wrong.  Even if the girl didn't get to make her warning, she helped him to spot a manipulation tactic. March was repeating what Cassandra said about the hopes and fears of serial killers. Andy didn't guess ríght away to be in the presence of one, but the resonation of words kept him alert. He understood vaguely that she was subtly warning him not to trust in that man. 

He believed in her. If Iris wouldn't have pulled her away, she may have seen it herself.

She headed to do what she was told to, but she would have prefered to receive the news from Liz. Talking in the way with Donovan's mother was awkward, especially because she had her own interpretation of what she saw. 

" You have been very busy with that boy lately. " She pretended very badly to comment casually. " It's a good move. Dono will value what you had if he sees you with someone else. It's a shame that you two aren't close anymore, you were his best friend here." 

Cassandra avoided answering in order to watch over her own energies for the tasks she had to do. 

Unfortunately, Iris saw it as encouragement to keep insisting. Using a particularly complicit tone in that next try. 

" I know how you feel for him. The Countess is just using him, but you love him. Maybe he would miss your love if we make him believe that someone else has it. " 

The young witch was trying hard to keep the emotional balance, but the woman made her too angry. 

" Of course, it was you !!! Who else would be eating his brain with that crap?? Stop, Iris. I'm not spending time with Andy to make Donovan jealous."

...But it would be a good idea if you would, a mother knows. He will make it look like he doesn't care, but he will be upset. " 

" You don't do what he did to me to someone you care about. “ She tried to explain to her. “He was in all his ríght to reject me when he found out, but he chose to do it in the cruelest and most humilliating way. Whatever I thought I felt, he killed it. That compulsive need to prove his loyalty to my mother was more important to him than showing basic care for me at the time of breaking my heart. " 

" I'm sure he didn't mean it, maybe he wasn't thinking about it. " 

" You don't understand. I never expected him to reciprocate, I knew he would never be mine and I was fine with being his friend. All I would have expected of him when finding out my feelings was a softer reaction. I wanted him to let me know of the obvious without hurting me: a shoulder to cry on, a nice speech saying that he didn't feel the same but still loved me as a friend... Anything but what he actually did. He laughed at me, Iris, and the entire hotel found out. I felt like the most worthless piece of trash, I don't know what would have been of me if it wasn't for Liz." 

" Where was your mother in all of this?" 

" That is not the point. I was so wrecked that I ended up listening romantical advice from dad... Do you know how terrible his advice is? He tries so hard and i love him, but he thinks that murder is a viable solution for everything. " 

" Thank God that you don't follow his criteria. " Iris commented, with relief. " Isn't he...?"

" Planning the murder of Donovan? " The girl followed her. " Nah, we got a better idea. I will be practicing my most witchy cackle for when mom would eventually dump him. When he will be destroyed by the heartbreak I will get my revenge. Dad called it ‘ the way of Paris and Oenone’. The question may be how many decades it will take, so we started making bets. " 

" That heartless bitch is unbelievable... What kind of mother chooses her vanity over the happiness of her child?" Iris kept ranting, deviating the conversation into her object of hate. " It even feels like she enjoys having won the competition against her twenty years old daughter. " 

" It was never a competition because I never tried to compare myself with her. " Cassandra clarified. " Stop excusing him. We all know that she is a bit of a bitch who loves to generate irresponsible emotional dependency on others, but Donovan had the choice of not being a jackass. Trying to manipulate me against my mother as if I wouldn't know who she is will not help you. " 

" I want to help because I believe he is too blind to see that he could be happier with you." 

" You are deceiving yourself because you think that Donovan could fall for me and the effect of what you perceive as my good influence over him would help your cause. " Cassandra cutted her off. " You blame my mother for your problems, you think that if we get together he is going to suddenly see you as the best mother on earth. That is not going to happen, don't force it because you are making things worse. "

" I want the best for both of you. You are a sweet girl who has loved him for years, such a devoted daughter to your mother and that bitch abuses of the gift that you are. " 

" Iris, I'm not what Donovan wants. In any case, I'm the daughter in law that you want. " She kindly tried to explain to her. " It's flattering, it shows that you appreciate me in some way, but it's going to lead nowhere. Please, just... Stop. "

In a more sensitive approach to what would correspond to Iris’ intrusive attitude, Cassandra finished the clarification by holding her hand in a calming way. Her intention was to show her that, even when she sounded angry, she was able to understand the root of her frustrations and wasn’t truly upset with her. All she needed was for her to see that her attempts of helping were creating more damage, she didn't want to make her feel bad about the unresolved tensions with her son. 

After that, the girl proceeded to make her point. 

“ Andy has only one picture on his nightstand and it is of his mom, Miss Evers saw it and asked him about it. You should have seen how radiantly happy she was when she came to tell me her findings.“ She commented pretending the same casual approach Iris faked with her but making it on purpose for her to notice the irony. “ From what I could figure out from her, his mother raised him alone. She must have faced the struggles you had in your time. This boy’s childhood wasn’t easy, something or someone back then broke him in a way I can't still deduce. He still loves his momma and doesn't blame her for the tragedies in his life.” 

Iris wasn’t adding any remarks, imagining the blatant adoration the maid ghost must have imprinted in the tale. In life she had been another lonely mother in a judgemental time, but her luck was worse than hers because she was doomed to eternally mourn a lost child who was killed by a sadistic kidnapper. If the implications of the anecdote were right, talking with that boy must have been a sweet comfort for her as the troubled soul she was. 

“ I tell you this not because I want to guilt trip you, but to help you see why Andy matters so much to me. “ The girl concluded. “ He is a good guy, I can’t give up and let my father destroy all the goodness in him. “ 

They reached the hallway leading to her destination in peaceful silence, no more words were needed in order to find a mutual understandment. Only while standing in front of the indicated door Iris spoke again in a reminder for her to be careful in the approach of the matter that needed her. It was a moderate spiritual cleanse of the room after a murder, something she would do because purification rituals were impossible to practice there. Her attempt of making a kind reception for new ghosts, to help them come out of their initial lethargy in a less violent awakening under her guidance. 

After that, she was ready to spend the night awake digging in her humbly self built magical library trying to find the right reference to put together the puzzle that Andy brought her with his question. Voodoo and dolls were the main clues, but she was a bit lost about the part including the serial killer ghost. The only use of dolls in voodoo that she was aware of wasn’t fitting with the vague description she got from him. It would make sense as a method to kill victims without leaving evidence, but she never heard of techniques for doll possession in the soul transferring sense. That was more proper of a haunting, an inaccurate word that could be somewhat used to describe how James stayed in the hotel after his suicide. There were many non specified details that wouldn’t allow her a clear comprehension of the case: In which degree was the possession manifesting? Was the doll a conduct like Annabelle,the possessed Raggedy Ann doll once claimed to be the tool of a demon? Was he an animated object providing a lifeful body for his occupant, what in the slang of exorcists would be called a ‘vessel’? Turning a lifeless object into one would surely require particular magical assistance to work while regular hauntings didn’t take more than anger or confusion. The ‘how?’ in that theory was the part driving her insane. 

Answers weren’t easy to find, but she wasn’t giving up. With the puzzle solved Andy would have no option but to share the whole truth and then he would connect some missing dots for her. They needed to get there and she needed to put in the effort if she wanted to make him trust her for real, because he wasn’t going to raise his walls easily. The creativity to come up with a solution was there, but trying to find anything useful was a nightmare. All she had about voodoo were vague references in texts that weren’t about the topic. From all the infinite forms of magic that she could be reading about, Andy asked her about one of the most hermetic circles of witchcraft existing in the country. Even satanism was easier to research without access to the right people. She was getting frustrated and unexpected intromission made it worse. 

Her father, deck of cards in hand, appeared as if he would be inviting her to give up. 

“ Your disturbed humor is making me sad.” James commented, concern in his voice and a genuinely loveful tone. “ Don’t waste more of your time, my dear. There will always be another one for you to claim and this amount of involvement you are delivering is hurting us both. We can play plenty of other games together: Chess, cards … Would you join me for a hand? “ 

She raised her head, abandoning her reading to stare at him with annoyed disbelief. 

“ I’m not in the mood for cards, dad. This isn’t a game anymore. Not for me, at least.” Was her strongly determined reply. “ He will never be yours, I’m not going to allow it. I will get him out of here even if that means I will have to carry him out myself.” 

James was mixing the cards with a playful attitude while standing close to her desk. He wanted to make her feel better, prepare her for what he saw as a crushing defeat with possibilities of getting her hurted. She let it get personal to a dangerous limit, her care for that boy wasn’t a simple humanistic reaction. 

Emotional attachment, a terrible mistake. 

“ Something has changed in you. I’m not blind to your misadventures, but never before you reached such desperation to protect any of my chosen ones. There is no amusement for me in your pain and you shouldn’t be suffering for this young lad. He may be gifted, but he is unworthy of you. Your fates will never tangle: Andrew is a nobody and you are my daughter. From darkness you were made for me to become my joy and I'm not willing to let him steal you away from me.” 

It shouldn’t have surprised her to find out that he reached the same conclusion Iris did, because as a parent he adored her in an overwhelming way. 

“ I’m not in love with Andy… What the hell is wrong with everybody here?” 

The answer seemed plausible to him. 

“ I’m dead, darling. Not stupid.” He added, with skepticism. “ I can feel it crushing your heart. It may not be the love meant for lovers, but you love him and that is a problem.” 

There were no secrets between them, not at least on her part. She didn’t mind being honest about her feelings and thoughts about him in the way she interpreted those. 

“ He listens to me, no matter how crazy I sound to all the other outsiders. I feel that Andy understands me in ways no one else ever did. I want to find out, but everytime i’m close to do it, it slips away from me.” 

He was smiling at her, as if the reasons given were very typical of her and he was happy to have got at least one guess of parent right. 

“ … Cassandra, my splendid princess. “ He praised her, the adoration in his voice was comforting to some extent. “ When your mother agreed with me in the discussion of the name we were going to give you, we never imagined you were going to embrace it so foundly. All I wanted was to name you after a mystical lady from classic literature to honor your exceptional nature. “ 

“... The argument was between three final options:  Medea,Cassandra or Morgana.” She completed the rest of a story she heard him tell thousands of times.” Mom chose Cassandra because, despite it being Greek in origin, it sounded Italian to her. “ 

“ Mortals will hear only what they are ready for, you are cursing yourself assuming that obligation. “ He followed her, using the metaphor with her name to make a point. “ Not that you aren’t radiant enough for a god to curse you out of unrequired feelings. “ 

The obvious joke made her chuckle. 

“ Stop it, dad !” She playfully thanked him while trying to get serious again. “ You would understand why I do it if you could feel things in the way I do. Do you think about how much time of training I needed to be able to sleep without depending on mom’s special blessing? You know it well, when I was a kid she had to sedate me with her charm so I could find peace at night. It isn’t easy for me, papa. Even now, things don’t get better. The very same people who ignore me in life come back begging for my help in death and they are very loud.” 

“ Rowena is a special guest always welcomed here, we can request her help again.“ 

“ I can’t control my compulsion to warn the living because I am emotionally affected by the pain of the dead. “ She insisted, trying pointlessly to explain herself. “ She helped in everything she could, but she can’t fix the way I feel. I don’t need you to understand it, i know you can’t but i love you anyways. The thing is that, for some reason I don't know, Andy gets it. “ 

Listening to her with attentive carefulness made him feel reassured in the imperious need of disappointing her. It needed to be done, regardless of the outcome of the game. In the best case for him, the man would come out as a killer by himself and she would be devastated. In the worst, if she was ríght and the darkness in him wasn't enough to be turned into pure evilness, he could be giving her a hopeful purpose to abandon the hotel. 

He would kill him before letting that happen. If what his princess wanted was a new friend, he would give her one to keep forever. 

Still uncertain about having to get that far, he proceeded to make the calculated entrance to disappointing her of him.

" Andrew is obsessed with the Lakeshore Strangler, a non-transcendental name operating in his home city when he was a kid. It is a long date issue, the origins are placed past his sixth birthday. It can't be a coincidence and I have reasons to believe that he already has some victims on his count.  It wouldn't be the first time that happens, many of my associates don't come here to commit their first murder. For instance, Jeffrey did his first experiment long before our meeting. " 

The comparison made her incredibly angry. The rage in her eyes indicated to him that the comment crossed the line.

" I knew that you were going to do this!! Is it because of the shyness and military background?  Stop projecting crap on him, Andy is not who you think he is. He is not some awkward pervert like Dahmer and Chucky isn't like Gacy's Pogo. Call me naive, call me crazy ... I don't mind it, I believe in him. " 

Rushing to rectify the verbal mistake, James still kept the same intentionality. 

" Fair enough, my dear. I may have chosen an imprecise example for my statement, but that doesn't exonerate Andrew from all he has been hiding from you. " 

He handed her a piece of paper conveniently stolen from the room in his late night visit to the fed up man. It was a news article about a supposedly accidental massacre that happened at Kent Academy, a military school. Despite it was declared an accident, the facts implied massive red flags for a shooter.

" Most of the deceased were in his class. " Her father explained to her while the  girl read in avid shock."   Doesn't that remind you of someone?" 

Cassandra didn't reply, she didn't want to remember that boy. 

" If that ghost deceived you once... Why wouldn't this lad?" James insisted in an ambivalent  tone inviting doubt. " You need to be protected from your kindness. It is my responsibility as your father to save you the suffering. "

She couldn't speak because she couldn't think her words right. Thoughts were getting blurry as tears started to flow. 

James pretended to close the issue summarizing his interpretation for her, not wishing to upset her more. 

" Mr Barclay has a peculiarity absent in all of my previous attempts. He is a guideless killer who proved himself willing to continue the work of someone else. A mediocre inspiration, but one he follows with obsession... Charles Lee Ray, that petty burglar of Chicago. He would have had better luck following Charles Manson, at least he was one of my students." 

The out of place joke awakened her of her own desperation induced lethargy. 

" CHARLIE!!! A six years old would have called him Charlie!!" She screamed to herself, looking legitimately crazy at the moment of the epiphany. " If the doll would be a representation of Charles that little Andy imagined as his killer menthor, he would be a Charlie, not a Chucky. No kid would think of naming a Charles Chucky before Charlie. Manson is the most famous Charles and those who wish to nickname him call him Charlie. CHUCKY IS A SELF GIVEN NICKNAME THAT THE FUCKING BASTARD USES TO DIFFERENCIATE HIMSELF FROM MANSON!!! " 

Her hopes were unbreakable. Her father was astonished to see her finding one new stretched reason to believe in that stranger. 

" Watch your language. It's not proper of a lady to swear like that. " He reprimanded her before going back to his point." I fail to see how a nomenclature difference can be enough justification for you... Cassandra, you are making yourself blind to everything but what your visions of him dictate. "

She stared deeply into his eyes after cleaning her face. Her eyes had the challenging fire of someone who would be ready to die defending their truth. 

" I believe in Andy because he believes in me. " 

There was nothing that could be done, his daughter was determined to insist in that stance. 

 " If that is your verdict, then I can't save you the pain. " He concluded. " The least you can do for me is postpone this vain search for explanations until tomorrow, since I already gave you a name to start over from a different angle. Isn't that more than what you have obtained so far?" 

She knew he was ríght and she didn't mind admitting it. 

" Ask Miss Evers to make us some coffee and we can go to your room. I'm not tired enough to not play cards with my father." 

" Splendid !!" He exclaimed, showing a happy enthusiasm that he typically reserved only for her and her mother. 

They made him happy, but the young witch wasn't fully aware of how important her company was for him. It was her reason for existence, or at least one of the main ones he found to wish for her. He only had one night per month to be with his wife, but his daughter was available anytime he required it. Keeping her was a priority, even if it would imply the sacrifice of his new pawn. 

His guilt or innocence on past crimes mattered very little. His only options would be learning to kill for him or perish on the negatory to make sure that Cassandra wouldn't follow him out.

[mimithings97]

ABSTRACT ft BOB ROSS (M) - JJK

Summary: Paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what Jeongguk wants. And what Jeongguk wants, Jeongguk gets.

Genre: smutPWP, timid crack, established relationship

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: jeongguks horny! getting high, body painting, fingering, oral (both receiving), edging, slight subJK, unprotected sex, cockwarming, masturbation (fem), dry humping

A/N: Jeongguk being on his Bob Ross thing to help us through quarantine had me inspired. Fr Bob Ross was a legend. This gets steamy btw

Also pls stay safe everyone and don’t be selfish. Enjoy x

*Masterlist Link*

*Bold italic is JK speaking Korean*

“Tap it off… and just beat the devil out of it.”

“JEONGGUK FOR THE LOVE OF JESUSSS!”

“Isn’t that fun.”

“...What? Just doing what he tells me to do.” 

And he persists, batting brush to easel with a rate of knots only a testament to how fast he jacks off. It sends diluted paint across the room so you’re left as a life size dot to dot, with splatters lining your lips down to the hem of your shirt and it’s cold and wet, and this isn’t what you signed up for when he said ‘couples bonding’. 

“I’m fucking soaked.” He scoffs, that man sized brain of his conjuring a classic. 

“That’s what she said.” 

You’re four hours deep, and four hours too many by your standards. Jeongguk was always an avid painter at heart, finding joy in the freedom of all things creativity, but he was also a perfectionist, a competitor. It led him from tutorial to tutorial, because, whilst he’s got portraiture down, his landscaping needed a little brushing up - mind the pun - and it was only an amount of time before you stumbled across a Bob Ross tutorial in all things serene and panoramic.

You shake yourself off in some attempt to help the splay of wet paint and to ease your job with the washing machine later, and lean back on your heels to gather your bearings. Yet, Bob still drones on despite your misery, and your boyfriend’s all too eager to comply with his every word.

“Jeongguk!” 

He’s laughing off to himself, easily pleased in the scheme of all things pensioner humour, but murmurs off a halfhearted ‘yeh’ in your direction to ease where he knows you’re about to nag.

“Look at me!” 

He does. And it throws you off a little because he eyes you once over, twice and a third time before settling his gaze on your breasts - easily pleased for many more things than just Bob Ross.

“You’re messy.”

“Yeh fuck I am! You listen to Bob more than you listen to me, cockless.”  

He quirks an eyebrow, and shuffles so the laptop settled between both your easels can be paused, leaving Bob frozen in time and you to deepen your scowl.

“Yeh, um, cockless, cool... Bob tells me how well I’m doing and lets me hit paint brushes on wooden sticks. You don’t even let me feed Sassy nugs of weed when you sure as hell fucking know she’s a stoner cat.” 

Jeongguk was deep into his second joint after he fucked the first two paintings up enough he put a lighter to the edge of each. He even questioned using them as a roach, and you became one step closer to pleading insanity to your landlord and bolting the fuck out of you joint tenancy. But then he got you high and you persevered.  

Four more questionable and highly abstract paintings later, he’s got the hots for Bob, and you're left staggering on your words to rope him into lucidity again. 

“Guk, he’s a virtual man with 4 million followers, don’t take it personally and-.”

“But-” You deadpan, and point your paintbrush with emphasis. 

“And you know full well Sassy gets baked anyways off of fumes. The smoke gets in her fur as well and it was me” he looks innocently at you, muted by your outburst, “who got clawed when she had to be bathed. So tuck your balls away from Bob, and sober up!” 

He’s quiet. As are you. And even Bob lies dormant off in your peripherals. 

The room grows small as you size each other up, paintings left aside with the sole purpose of being witness to argument, and you think he might just look hot with his nipples standing cold against the open air and abs rolling beneath the line of his sweats. 

He’s on the same wavelength: 

“I can see your tits through that shirt.” 

You take a quick peak yourself, eyeing from one to the other, ignorant of the double chin you’re exposing, but all in the name of making sure the ladies stand perky. He’s got a glint beneath the surface now when he eyes your chest, and the paintbrush in his hand falls a little limper. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmm.” He tongues his lips. Hungry. 

Self control in such a situation as this seems important. The ability to stand your ground no matter where your argument lies on the scale of idiocy. If you curtail into being seduced, he might still make you wash the shirt yourself, figure Bob Ross is a turn on and have Sassy seeing smoke rings by the end of the night. No. You’re not a pushover.

He’s an inch closer when you break the silence, the tumbleweed rolled aside. 

“Turn it around. Let me see.”

“Ey?”

He’s horny and you’re not playing ball, something his brain can’t quite transfer to his dick yet.

“Turn yours around I wanna see how you did.” You give a nod in the direction of his painting. A spout of curiosity as to what monstrosity he’s conjured this time, but also a distraction, something for him to latch onto aside from your chest. 

“I thought we wait til the end. It’s unfinished.” And one thing Jeongguk hates being is unfinished. 

“Baby, Bob’s been overworked tonight and I wanna light the last spliff.” You air a finger and twizzle it, “give it a whirl.”

Being the competitor he is, Jeongguk plasters a smile and spins his easel, the pride practically radiating from him with the way he eyes the two trees and awkwardly sculpted sky. The clouds are askew and the lighting is directioned all wrong, in fact, it’s more a Picasso than a Mozart, blocks of colour screaming attention rather than the realism Bob was hoping for. 

“What’s it abstract for.”

Jeongguk frowns because your tone clearly isn’t close to praise and that’s what he’s learnt to expect. What Jeongguk wants, Jeongguk gets. Tonight's seen enough of your short fuse, however, that he’s not in the running for your good books. 

“Jagi-ya,” he pleads, “you know I speak in small English only when I’m stoned.”

You don’t even attempt to stifle the giggle. His eyes are round and his neck’s falling into his shoulders. A defence mechanism he’s well versed in because he knows it gets you in the feels. The jagi too.

“Yeh and this is how you paint when you’re stoned,” he eyes the work he’s made like your words have got him curious, like he’s never seen the capability of a weed induced state on canvas, “your lines get all boxy.”

He shifts, putting criticism to the test as he takes in his artwork from a new vantage point. In the meantime, the final joint lays naked and unused, almost sculpted like it was made for your fingertips. So you appease it’s calling and bringing tip to mouth, lighting the end until the embers begin to wisp away into smoke. Jeongguk breaths in like he wants it, but there’s an epiphany in sights instead.

“Mmm, it’s more like Picasso,” that’s my boy.

“Exactly!” 

“...Bob doesn’t accommodate for high people.” He takes the joint when you offer it. 

“Guk! That was a big word!” And he earns himself a kiss on the cheek, perhaps a hand to fiddle with his shoulders too, because those muscles aren’t gonna touch themselves. 

He drags long and hard. A third joint kind of high taking hold from where his eyes grow thinning and his posture caves into your touch. 

“Heard it on University Challenge,” you scoff at him. Since when was that on cable, “figure if I watch it enough I’ll be just as smart as them.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, bubs.”

Your hands grow fond of his skin, and it’s only when he leans away to trash the fumes away on a burnt out scrapped painting that you realise he finished all the weed. Guk’s a kid in a pram when it comes to sharing his green goods. He compensates with good sex though. 

And it’s where his mind lies - beneath the thin layer of your white painting top, a scrap piece of clothing donned for only the messiest of times. He seems to find inspiration in the idea. 

“Jagi.” 

“Mmm,” the air buzzes somewhere between stoned and excited with how he eyes you. 

“Let me paint you like one of my Korean girls.” It’s said in a tone laced with enough lust that you ignore the reference and are turned on by the novelty of being painted. And you know he doesn’t mean Jack and Rose kind of style.

You offer him a smirk. 

“How d’you want me.” 

Jeongguk nips at his bottom lip and lets his mind and dick go wild at the thought of free reign. The contemplating drags on, but when his eyes settle on how your pussy lies just south of the hem of your shirt, he’s struck a vision.

“Back, legs spread, and shirt off- wait, no, actually, shirt on.” 

He’s easy to comply with in the circumstances of things stoned and shirtless.

Your head is light, limbs soft when they stretch against the carpeted floor and you’re so prepared to be a canvas you’re wondering if maybe Bob had turned you on a little. And everything grows that bit more ambient, strewn into background noise. The paints you’d used now only exist with purpose of your skin, the Sam Cooke vinyl, now on its fifth round, is merely a melody to curl your toes to and the chiaroscuro lighting serves for the curve of your cheekbones only.  

He’d call you artwork if only it did you justice. 

“It’s cold.” He readies you.

His forth fingertip is crimson red. You think it’s a tester for temperature until he runs it down your thigh. A bold stroke for a starting place, but Jeongguk was never shy with paints.

“Mmm, yeh, cold.” 

“You like it?” He asks like he wants to be in tune with you.

“I can get to like it.” 

What you mean is you can get to like your boyfriend, in his half naked glory, playing temperature torture on your skin. 

He’s beautiful like this. A little lost in the high, but even deeper in the depths of you and your body and your lips and how you lay for him. A shy boy at first now with the pick of the litter. And he’ll take his pick wisely.

“So pretty.” You’ve got enough understanding to writhe in the praise, “Can I ruin your top?”

You are high, careless and ultimately curious. 

“Yeh,” and the shirt was fucked anyways. 

He pulls up the palette next to him, drawing a sketch with his eyes because paint doesn’t allow for takebacks and twiddles the brush in circles with practised ease. 

“Close your eyes for me?” 

“Ey?” You question. 

“Please, just, for now.”

And you’ll blind yourself for the sake of surprise, but now you’re sure you’ll just end up playing guess the drawing through touch alone, a mimic of what Jeongguk does on your naked spine in the mornings when you’re allowed a lie in. 

It’s cold, he’s right, that first stroke. And it dances close to where your breasts hang. 

“Can I touch you down there too?” 

OH fuck yes. Multitasking you can get on board with. 

“Please.”

He’s straight to it. A quirk on the line he was painting down you because suddenly he’s got you pleading and wet in unintentional places. 

“You plead so nicely for me, jagi. So good.” You gush to the tune of his native tongue.

It’s all at once. An overload of the senses. Sam Cooke a soulful prayer in time with your boyfriends hum. There’s a perfect juxtaposition of nimble fingers on your clit and a flat planed brush streaking unabashedly on the cotton against your nipples. It’s cold and hot and light and dark and everything in between. It’s sexy. 

You delve headfirst into the pleasure of it all, throwing an arm over your eyes and allowing the moans to spew and your body to convulse a little every time you’re hit with a newly loaded brush. Your body brews up a tempest and yo-

“DONE!”

Oh. 

You’re panting. Soaked to the bone beneath your silk panties, and when you open your eyes, everything is in disarray. 

The lust felt when in the thrones of your imagination is suddenly scattered, albeit, Jeongguk still looks like a feast. Because Sam Cooke doesn’t sound so harmonic and your skin doesn’t glow as bright when you assess the masterpiece you’d been distracted by. 

“YOU GAVE ME PICASSO TITS!”

Fucking Picasso tits! 

You’re horrified. And Jeongguk looks like he’s won the lottery. 

“Yeh. Jagi! Abstact!” 

“It’s abstract…” you whine.

Tugging and pulling at the hem of the cotton in some attempt to render the mess undone is your stress ball . Something to help it or just unsee it. Anything. But it’s useless, because the display is etched in primary colours only, a demand for attention that your Vanish Ultra won’t even touch the sides on.

Your eyes fume when they meet his crescents, “and you gave me square tits you freak! I have perfectly good tits, underneath, and this top was clean before you violated it!” 

There’s enough rage in you to stand and peel the wet shirt from your body, only to find a coloured imprint on your skin and bra that seeped through the thin fabric. Pick a younger man, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Hildy can shove fun up her ass.

“Baby, it’s kind of funny.” 

“Its not- its-,” he’s laughing. You’re exasperated. Both high. And maybe Hildy had a point once you let go of the burdens of sensibility and just crave what he’s having. Go, fat, high, fun. 

“Gukkkkkkk.” So you end up whining. And, you don’t resist when he’s off his feet and drowning you in his chest, muscles vibrating to the tune of his giggles. 

“Like, now, whenever we Bob Ross paint, I get to be reminded of the time I squared off your boobs then sexed you real good.”

You scoff from under his armpit, but refuse to depart from the embrace. He’s got a sweaty smell you only like on him and there’s nothing like Jeontits in your face. 

“Never Bob Ross painting again and you’re not sexing anything, perv.” 

“No?” 

“Mm-hm,” he giggles over your dramatic head shaking, a true fan of you when he’s got you swaddled and in that high happy place. Jeongguk also, whilst he won’t admit it, likes owing you something. Likes poking and prodding at your sensitivity until he’s got something to make up for - he’s a people pleaser, what can he say. 

So it’s a kiss here and a peck there. A mouthed map from shoulder to jaw before you’re the one to shift until your mouths align. 

“I’mhard y’know.” Tongue deep into yours because he’s got nothing to hide.

“Mmm, and you’ll stay that way.” 

But he really is oh so hard. His sweats hold little surprise under the surface because Jeongguk forgoes underwear on his days off and there’s a perk to his chest from his lunchtime weights set. It’s a self control that the weed in your brain isn’t quite abiding to.

“Jagi, come on,” the way his stance has a gain on your height means he can find friction where your groin lays. The perfect snuggle for his length to cant up into. He’s teasing himself, and pining for the quirk in you that’ll have him squirming later. 

“Guk. You’ve stained my top. You’re not about to cum on my La Perla panties.” Yet he’s driving himself deeper into a painful withdrawal. And he can’t wait. 

“You wore them without anything on your legs. You should know the risk,” his lips dance from collarbones to shoulder as he indulges in your skin, “You get me so hard, Jagi. So hard it hurts,” he’s biting whilst he ruts, “yet you tease me. How can you do that?” 

Your resolve won’t crumble, but you may indulge a little. Press encouragement beneath his boxers and under the small of his back so he can carry himself away in the friction. He glows in it. 

“Urgh, god.” 

“Mmm, you still can’t cum you know that.” 

Frantic. He nods frantic, and rolls his eyes back harder. He’s got balls so tight from the weed induced delusion that he’s lost in, but he knows you’ll have them blue and him mewling soon.

“Want it.” Submissive Korean sounds almost too good on him. He bows into your shoulder and grunts words, understandable in content, but so much more in context. An unfiltered, raw need he can only express in his way. 

You almost give in. 

Almost.

“Jeongguk, stop- stop.” He stills, and is pliable enough that you can cup his jaw tightly and meet him at eye level where he’s hazy. There’s a smirk nestled deep too because you let him go this far.  And you got riled up in the process. 

You eye him. Hairs flicking out from the thin headband he donned for painting and painting only. There’s a shine on his skin you can’t ignore and he’s so damn beautiful when he glows with want. Your man. A ‘my eyes only’ specimen except you get to touch. 

So you do, hands to peck that draw up and down until you play peek a boo with his tip between the flap of his sweats. It’s the crimson that stains your thigh and the glossy look he’s edged himself to. You’re ravenous. 

“Jagi, don’t just look. I’m dying here.”

You take one final glance, watch it bob when your nails scrape his abs and then quirk a look his way. 

“Mmm, I’m still angry at you.” You’re not. Not really and never were. Just wanted something on him so you’d have him like you do now:

“Take it out on me” He doesn’t stutter. Doesn’t smile, smirk or indicate humour. Ready to risk it all. 

“Lie on the sofa how you want it then… and them,” you once over the material on his legs with your finger, “off.”

He’s so compliant when he’s hard and no one will ever find you complaining at the notion. 

There’s easles to dodge and paints that threaten to brim onto the wooden floors, but your apartment never had ‘perfect’ written on the lease, so you’ll let him settle his clothes haphazardly - teetering on messy. 

You follow the path he’s strewn, bra off to join his boxers, until you settle your knees against his, shadow elongated on his face by the direction of the sunlight and hair swept over to one shoulder. His eyes follow your curves. 

“Will you touch me now?” He’s craving and the concept has your mind whirling and eyes stuck on where he’s hard. You’ve only now come to notice the way he sits on his hands, wrists dug into the sofa from the pressure of his thighs. Filthy. It’s filthy that he edges himself for sport. 

With a twitch at the side of your mouth because there’s a million and one different ways to have him crying, you descend so skin is on skin and he’s captive to you. Drunk in the way he looks. Nervous in the way his dick twitches. 

“How d’you want me to touch you?” 

“Any way, fuck, any way.. Please.” The pleasantries aren’t necessary. He’s at your mercy physically but this boy’s got a hold on you like no other, enough that what Jeongguk wants, Jeongguk gets.

“Here?” His dick is expecting when he sees your hand move in his peripherals. It’s sure and ready for your touch. But then you moan. Eyes roll back just like when he touches your cl-, “Is here good, Guk?” 

“Oh fuck.” You’re two fingers deep and a palm to your clit. He’s taken note in the way you touch yourself before, mutual masturbation a 2 month-in kind of job, but this is different. Your pussy makes him salivate and the way you touch yourself makes him feel all too primitive. Like he’s never heard a girl moan before. “Jagi. Come on.”  

It’s so damn hot to you that his dick sits there untouched, hips still glued as though he’s unaffected. You’re tuned in, though, to those things that tell you otherwise. The strain on his neck from where his bottom jaw clenches. English sidelined because he can’t think straight. His dick bobbing every time you hit an upstroke into yourself and the squelch rings out. He’s so damn horny, but he’ll wait on you. Knows seeking the end untouched is like drinking water after parching in the desert. 

“So beautiful. You’re so beautiful. The way you touch yourself is beautiful too.” His eyes are fluttering and he can’t look away from you. It has you shamelessly moaning. “God I’m hard.”

You laugh, knuckle deep and feel the spasm of your walls. He’s really hard with precum immodest and when you meet his eyes again he’s vulnerable, too thirsty, maybe, for what he’s subjected himself to.

You’re left wanting, “I really wanna taste.”

“Jesus.” Jeongguk whispers under his breath, throws his head back for good measure because he’s got a visual before the main course has even happened. “You can’t be so shameless, it has me thinking things.” Vivid, things. 

And his imagination plays out in real time when you descend onto the wooded floor. He stutters, splutters on his tongue when you’ve got long nails all up in his groin.

“F-fu- wait, Jagi, wait wait wait, jagi.” You’re an inch off, breath catching his tip and so close you can smell him. God you want a taste. “I’m- You can’t just.”

Ohhhh. 

“You’ll cum?”

He’s not ashamed, embarrassed or anything in between. Just the longing for more, eating away at him, and knowing he’s a gonner in less than a minute if you’re to lick him. 

“Just, fuck, Y/N. Just kiss me.”

You do. The head of his dick too appealing not to offer a peck to. 

“Fuck.” He hisses it between his teeth and seeks refuge under an arm as to not concern himself with the way your tits look under him. “Not ther-” but not all cravings can be fixed, and you’ve got a mouthful. 

His hand jerks out from where it situates beneath him. The dilemma as to whether his dick can handle the back of your throat, seemingly easier to combat if he can claw at his thighs. But you’ve fallen into a rhythm despite the discomfort of hard floorboards and empty walls, and he’s keening for it, low moans and harsh breaths when your throat constricts. 

“Jagi, I real- oh shit, I really might cum.” You want him to. But the look that glazes over him when he’s edged is too good to wait for. Hit hits your throat deep, “fuck fuck fuck fuck,” hands thrown into your hair because he thinks maybe he wants you to stop.

But there’s the edge, and for a second he thinks he’s too far past it, balls tightened and his chest caves at the promise of lodging a load in your throat. 

“Fuck!” You’re off him and shuffled back before he can cry wolf. Jeongguk helplessly grasps at his base, and screws his eyes tight to curb the feeling of blood rushing everywhere. 

You’ve got a vantage point like no other. A vista genuinely for the ‘my eyes only’. 

His chest violently rises and falls and his thighs shake at the same rate. It’s hard to reserve yourself from kissing up his legs, so you don’t, soft nips where the seam of his trousers would run and even though he was driven to maximum sensitivity, he wants you as close as you are.

You litter the expanse of his body until he can vent the lost orgasm into your mouth. A rage of tongues and spit that has your centre warm again. But he mellows out into you and plays seduction. 

“Jagi.”

“Mmm,” you speak amongst the twine of lips. 

“Let me kiss you.. Down there.” His eyes plague with sincerity. A wholehearted desire to taste you and taste you again, and you’re one to oblige. 

The sofa, whilst a two generation hand-me-down, offers more comfort than the floor and you bask in being pampered when Jeongguk lowers your front to it, situating a littered pillow below you to accentuate the curve of your back. Your behind sits bare with panties discarded and you look beautiful enough he’ll tell you. 

“Look at your body Jagi. How can you be mine?”

It’s unnerving being like this. Subject to alien words and a stare you can’t dilute. But it’s a package deal and Jeongguk doesn’t take long to offer the incentive. 

“Smell nice too.”

He traces the curve of your back with his palm the same way he strokes you between your legs. Fluid and warm and...

“Goddd, that’s good.”

Jeongguk basks in all things praise. An inflation to his own high. So he hums approval into you as you begin to writhe. 

You bite back the urge to push into him and seek a salacious end, frantic in the heat of lust, but Jeongguk keeps a controlled hold on you and eases the pressure away from the good spots, just so it’s better when he comes back for more. 

“Mmmm, good, good there.” Where he’s spreading you and planting muscle deep. He doesn’t resist the temptation to go north either and explore tighter areas, and he hums a smile when he garners an entirely different noise from you because, fuck, that’s sensitive.

“Jeongguk, oh- I might cum.”

“Yeh?” He’s in you and around you and kneading at your cheeks like he’s rallying himself up. He is. Running his body in time with your movement so there’s a subtle rut to edge himself to.

“Yeh.”

“I want that. Bad.”

You’re loud and knocking on the door of something breathtaking, now that he’s left romance for dead. He wants you to cum, and hard 

Fumbling an arm behind you until you can grapple onto the hairs of his head does little to prevent the sensation, the quaking and the tightening. He’s sinking a thumb against your rim and a tongue in your pussy and you indulge in it all.

“Shitshit oh my fucking god.” 

He moans when you strike gold and pulse from every point of your being. Entrapped in that disembodied feeling where everything’s too good and all at once. It lags and Jeongguk’s hands purchase hard when you clench on his tongue. 

“Shit.”

He lets you down easy though, mindful of all of the places that could be a cause for over-sensitivity - save that for another day - and nuzzles into your thigh. 

The need to move lingers whilst you carry yourself away into the thrones of exhaustion, mind fizzing as you boyfriend sucks the meat of your ass with tempt. He’s wanting and you’ve got a craving to see him cum, but everything's numb. 

“Jagi.”

“Mmm.” 

You feel him before see him crawling up you, his front flush to you just as a means of exaggerating where he lays hard and in wait. He let you edge him and made you cum, a cause for a gold star among other things, so you flip over, careful not to knock him where it hurts, and pull at the straggling hairs the band can’t accommodate for. 

“I want you. I want you really bad.” He feels selfish for feeling like it’s his right to claim an end. But there’s a genuine cause for concern that he’s been hard for so long, and will be as long as you lay bare and beautiful, and the biology of the situation isn’t just coincidental with his want. 

But he kisses you soft and the sense of obligation dissipates into the desire to see him undone. 

“You gonna fuck me?” He’s desperate to, and you laying pliant beneath him has his lust escalating quickly. 

“Yes, yesyesyes jagi.” But as to not cum to quick he settles into stroking his length between where you’re wet. The sensitivity has lessened, but the rush of blood still is a cause for a grimace. Jeongguk kisses it out of you, settling into a rhythm of tongue then teeth then tongue then teeth. You’re lost enough, he’s sinking into your walls unhinged. 

“Fuck.”

“God, how can you feel like this every time.” He’s driven to the edge of insanity with every feel of your walls, like a first time every time, uncharted territory he wants to explore as soon as he’s explored. 

You grapple from the sweaty hairs that line his neck to where his muscles contract and sink now that he’s easing you into compliance. Not that it wasn’t easy to. But your walls, spent previously, make the glide a little harder in the promise that it’ll make him cum quick. 

“You good? This good?” He caters for you in a strained plea. 

“Amazing. God. A little faster.”

He’s sure to combust, purchasing his mouth on your neck and choking grunts into the skins there when his hips begin to snap and balls begin to ring an echo onto the four walls.

“Fuck jagi. Thank you. God, thank you.” He prays to your pussy as his abs clench in the knowledge that he’s teetering on the edge. Every run against you has him keening. 

“Hold me.” He nestles his cheek to your hair until your breaths are synced, “don’t cum yet. Please, god-hm,” you choke, “don’t cum.”

“Oh god, oh god,” he’ll get you there, but he’s sweating out the urge to spill into you. He wants to see you done, hear you moan, have you every kind of euphoric. So he licks his thumb quick and has it in between you and on your clit quicker. A pressure and nothing more because he knows what hurts you. 

He’s hissing at the strain, but you’re left in hopeless moans. 

“Cumming, baby, cu- fuck.” There’s nothing stopping the assault of your walls on him as everything tightens and then releases. You quiver into him. 

“Oh, you got so tight. Fuckfuck, oh god.” Jeongguk gives into it, too, when his body shudders and he pulls you tight, “ah,” spilling everything and it’s so hot but he’s heady enough that none of it matters. 

You bask in that feeling for however long, lulling his shakes with a trail of nails through his hair down to his back, and nuzzle where your cheeks meet. 

His back rises and falls and rises and falls and it’s all things soothing. 

So you whisper lowly, “Guk.”

He shifts fractionally and huffs at the exertion of it all, body pliable and soft in and around you.

“Baby, we can’t fall asleep here.”

You know he’ll ask for a few more minutes, the true post orgasm baby that he is. 

“Just a few more minutes.” 

You laugh in the way of your predictable boy and snuggle him further now that he’s cocooned, the tingles in your toes eases and he might lay heavy on you but it’s comforting that his body moves to the puff of your chest. It’s like watching the clouds in the sky morph from one figure to another. Like the soft ticking of a metronome. Like counting sheep. And it’s easy to let ‘just a few more minutes’ trickle on and on. 

What Jeongguk wants, Jeongguk gets. 

[shirtlesssammy]

2x08: Crossroad Blues

Welcome to this season’s real hellatus! We’ve got a little theme for the episodes we’re recapping. Try and guess what it is :D Also, we have some good news and bad news. Good news: We’re going to do a whole week of recaps towards the end of the break! Yay! Bad news: They’re all episodes that we hate. We need to get them off our recap plate before the show ends. Enjoy the hellatus (*crying noise*).

Then:

Sam Winchester, professional puppy dog

Now:

Greenwood, Mississippi

August, 1938

Robert Johnson plays Crossroads Blues on a stage to a crowd at a bar. He briefly hears growls but continues to play. He stops again when he sees shadows race outside. The crowd looks confused. Robert runs outside after hearing barks. He races to a shed, but the unseen source of the barking follows him. He kneels to await his fate. 

The door bursts open to find a woman and two men from the bar. The men run to find help and the woman pleads with Robert to stay with her as he mutters, “Dogs, black dogs.” He dies in her arms. 

Sam and Dean are at a diner and Sam’s researching how much of an outlaw Dean is. Sam is upset because it’s going to make their job harder now that the feds have them on their radar. Well, they have Dean on their radar. Dean thinks Sam is jealous. 

Sam’s got a case. An architect jumped off a building he designed, after calling animal control about seeing wild black dogs in his condo. 

There’s a ton of lore on black dogs. Dean brings the real insight to the situation when he tells Sam, “Bet they could hump the crap out of your leg.” AND I MISS THIS DEAN SO MUCH SOME DAYS. 

They interview Gunner Lawless his business partner under the guise of writing a tribute for Architectural Digest. His partner is resentful but admits that the man was a genius. He wasn’t always that way though. He wonders why people with true talent die young. 

The brothers’ next stop is at an area animal shelter. Dean flirts his way into learning more about black dogs in the area. Dean Bean got Carly’s MySpace address too. 

They next head to interview all the people that reported the black dogs. The first on their list is Dr. Sylvia Pearlman. She hasn’t been home in two days. Dean notes that she’s chief of surgery at her hospital, a position she’s had for ten years. She’s only about 42, so she’s very young for that position. They also find a connection to their vic and the doctor. They both visited a place called Lloyd’s Bar. 

Meanwhile, the doctor is hiding out in an early season dingy motel room. She’s frazzled and petrified when someone knocks on the door. The motel staff is there demanding money for another night’s stay. She grabs her money and turns to the man in the door,  only to see his face warp unnaturally. 

The boys find Lloyd’s Tavern next. On the cross road outside the joint, Dean notices yarrow flowers growing alongside the road. These flowers are used for summoning rituals. They put things together and start digging a hole in the middle of the crossroads. They find a tin with various items in it.

People have been summoning and making deals with a demon. “Y’know cause that always ends good.” EAT YOUR WORDS DEAN. Sam says that these people aren’t seeing black dogs, they’re seeing hell hounds. 

Meanwhile, the doctor meets her end with a visit from her own date with the hell hounds. 

Rosedale, Mississippi

1930

We witness Robert Johnson make his crossroads deal with a demon. 

Sam notes that whatever they’re dealing with is a lot like the Robert Johnson lore. Dean notes that Johnson’s music is full of references to hell hounds, demon deals, and the occult. Dean’s barely-tolerating-this-bullshit eyeroll is truly a wonder. (Objectification Sidenote: Damn, Dean’s pretty in this scene.) 

Anyway, they have a picture of another person that made a deal, George Darrow. They head to where he lives. They notice pepper on the doorsill. George answers his door but doesn’t want anything to do with them. They reveal that they know about the supernatural and tell him they want to help. Sam asks about the pepper and George tells them that it’s actually goofer dust. It keeps out demons.

George talks about making his deal and reveals that the demon stayed around Lloyd’s for a week making deals with other people. George mentions the architect and doctor. There’s one other person that also made a deal ten years prior, a man named Evan Hudson. George is resigned to his fate and tells the brothers to leave. 

Evan Hudson works in his home office late at night and flinches at hell hound barks. His wife peeks in before she heads off on a trip. 

As she’s bidding him farewell, her face warps into a dead zombie howl. WHEE HALLUCINATIONS!

Sam and Dean arrive at Evan’s house. Dean opens with asking about Lloyd’s Bar, and Evan immediately slams the door in his face and retreats into his home. That went well! Dean kicks down the door and I’m FINE WITH THIS and not objectifying him at all.

The Winchesters corner Evan in his office. Yes, he knows hell hounds are coming for his soul. Dean’s bitterly dismissive of Evan’s distress, joking about potentially frivolous reasons for him to bargain his soul away. Evan reveals that his wife was dying of cancer, and he made a deal for her health. While Sam melts into a puppy-eyed puddle, Dean still reacts to this with anger. “You ever think about her in all this?” Dean asks. “I think you did this for yourself. So you wouldn’t have to live without her. Well guess what? She’s gonna have to live without you now.”  

Dean’s anger is...counterproductive. So Sam pulls Dean away and they consult in the hall. Dean instructs Sam to spread George’s goofer dust around while he high tails it to the crossroads to summon himself a demon. He’ll exorcise it, and that will buy them a little time. Sam calls this out as a reckless plan and speculates that Dean’s only doing it because he thinks their dad made a deal. “What if he struck a deal?” Dean asks. “My life for his soul?” OH this SWEET EMOTIONAL TORTURE! He heads out to summon the demon.

Dean buries his offering in the crossroad and turns around to find a woman smirking at him. She’s a crossroads demon! They take turns objectifying each other and then Dean invites her to meet in his car for a little privacy. Classic serial killer pickup line. 

Dean tells the demon his terms. He wants Evan released from his deal and he’ll barter himself for it. “You’d sacrifice yourself for someone else?” she says with a devilish smile. “Like father, like son.” 

DRAMATIC MUSIC BREAK

The demon gleefully taunts Dean about John’s deal. When Dean tries to usher her into his car, she balks at the edges of the devil’s trap she sees peeking out from under Baby. Nice try, Dean Bean!

Meanwhile, Evan does his best dramatic chipmunk (prairie dog) impression. 

The hell hounds are now growling from INSIDE THE HOUSE! Sam and Evan watch the doors warily. 

While the hounds close in, Dean gets emotionally traumatized by the demon. (Side note, her breath is visible in this scene and she’s wearing a short sleeved, thin dress. I’m cold in sympathy.) She taunts him about his man-pain and terrible guilt about John’s death. She has the power to bring back John. Dean seems...interested.

The hell hound at Evan’s house stops rattling the door and the room goes silent for a moment until...the hound bursts through the ventilation grate! What a smart doggo!

Dean wants to learn more about the potential to bring back his dad and mopes under a wooden structure until the demon joins him there. She tells him she can give him a ten year deal: John’s life for Dean’s, and they get ten years together before Dean heads below. She plays Dean like a fiddle, and we get a callback to Dean’s feelings in Faith - that he’s not supposed to be alive. Dean experiences VERY LARGE EMOTIONS before wandering out of the structure. “You think you could throw in a set of steak knives?” He directs her attention upward, where he’s painted a devil’s trap on the underside of the structure. What a smart Dean Bean! Excellent misdirection. 

Dean reels off HIS deal: Evan lives, and the demon goes free. If she doesn’t strike a deal, she gets exorcised. (Which is SO embarrassing amirite?) 

Dean starts the exorcism and it starts a fierce wind to howling. The wind gusts into Evan’s house and blows away Sam’s goofer dust circle. Sam and Evan run for safety. The hell hound barks fiercely...until it doesn’t.

Cut to Dean angry-kissing the demon. A kiss seals the deal (apparently all demons like to slip a little tongue). (Insert crack headcanon that this is Crowley in an alternate vessel, when he first gets heart eyes for Dean.)

The demon tells Dean that her word is her bond, but if Dean breaks their deal then the first thing she’ll do when she escapes Hell is tear into Evan like he’s wet paper.

The demon can’t resist one parting shot. Dean should’ve taken the deal. John Winchester’s torture is unimaginably bad. Dean charges for her, the demon smokes out, and Dean’s left with a scared woman in the middle of the crossroads and way too many feelings.

Driving away, Sam and Dean listen to the blues and contemplate John’s deal. Sam tries to focus on the people John saved, but Dean’s stuck in a sadness pit of his own making. Sam asks him if he considered actually making the deal. Dean doesn’t answer, instead just turning the music up.

Oh, Dean.

The Quotes Bark at Midnight:

Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something

I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg

MySpace, what the hell is that?

Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?

You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[ducklooney]

I'm back again after a short break, wanting to post something again, but I don't know if I'll be there in time, and if not, I'll post in the next few days. Here is a picture, which represents my worst characters in comics and cartoons. Aprililili! April fools! Of course they are not the worst, but one of my favorite characters in cartoons and comics. You can see Donald and his nephews here, but this time in opposite roles or maybe not. Donald as the devil lurking with his naughty nephews who are actually angels, but certainly they shun him and get rid of his uncle's trap and of course the angels win. This is in some ways a dedicated reference (whoever watched Donald's Better Self (1938) knows what I'm talking about) but in the relationship between uncle and nephew. Since Donald's nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie are constantly messing around and making hell out of Donald, there are times when Donald makes hell for his nephews, but then again, they reconcile and be happy. Although Donald is a good character, he can sometimes be corrupt and mean (those who have watched classic shorts and read old comics know what I'm talking about). And yes, I almost forgot, since it will soon be an episode of the Ducktales reboot, where Della and Donald disguise themselves as angel and devil, I has made a small precedent in the sense that Donald is a devil and his nephews are angels, which may make sense. And they switched roles a little, nephews are good, and uncle is evil. And the first of April can also be the opposite day. But certainly good defeats evil. I apologize for my haste that the drawing turned out a little bad for the reason that I was in a hurry. I wish everyone a happy joke day, even though that day is canceled, but everyone at home can make jokes and share via social networks. Happy April Fools Day!

[cherryfelixs]

hereditary enemies - 1

pairing: angel!hyunjin x demon!reader - soulmate! au

warnings: strong language, innuendos, sexual references !!, mentions of blood and gore

note: this series is HEAVILY influenced by Good Omens bc aziraphale and crowley T__T theyre so baby

----

hwang hyunjin. one of the most famous names from upstairs. he was known for sticking to the rule book, for having a heart as soft as a plushie. he was the perfect and classic example of an angel. bright smiles that light up rooms and sparkly brown eyes that anyone could get lost into. he wouldn't hesitate to perform miracles and that's how everyone knew him.

on the other hand, there was you.

y/n. one of the most famous names from downstairs. you were known for being frivolous and childlike. you were one of the more playful demons. ever since the times of adam and eve you were one of the lighthearted ones. everyone was so serious and boring. so, you tried adding a splash of colour to hell!but just because you were lighthearted, doesn’t mean you also did wreck havoc everywhere you stepped.

caesar getting stabbed? influence by you. the fall of the roman empire? yup, you. the bubonic plague? you, with the help of crowley of course.

you really thought hell was the place for you. perfect for your pranks and being able to cause trouble. however, there was one thing you didn’t get. why the fuck did you guys have soulmate tattoos? you thought only humans and angels had them. demons aren’t supposed to love. well, that’ what you thought anyways. some of your friends had already met their soulmates. some you think are...questionable... some you thought didn’t need soulmate tattoos to know they would get together.

for example: aziraphale and crowley.

you only made an exception for them because they somehow became ever so close to your heart.

you tried to keep yours hidden away. it was below your collarbone, a ring with the words ‘you! you messed up my hard work!” etched underneath it. the first words your soulmate says to you.

“tagamuth! how ya doin’?” you asked the man who grumbled a hello back.

“hey, asami! lookin’ good! get that maggot infestation sorted?” you shot some finger guns at her, walking backwards, awaiting her response. she gave a quick nod back with a half smile.

you were about to turn around before bumping into someone. you swivelled on your heel before beaming a pearly white smile: “beelzebub babe! haven’t seen you in ages!”  

they gave you a mocking smile. “get back to work y/n. whether that be down here or on earth.” 

you popped your bottom lip out. “aw c’mon babe. i’m sure satan won’t mind if i took a lil break huh?” you looked around for a minute before leaning in towards beelzebub. “i know you’re satans right hand but is the reason you’re so uptight is that you haven’t found your soulmate yet?”

that caused some heads to turn. how bold of you.

“back to work!” they roared. this kinda made everyone piss their pants but you knew better, you were used to it. you gave the entity a pat on the shoulder before skipping off.

“alert me when you find em babe!” you teased and ran off before any consequences. 

you walked out and stepped out onto the warm streets. you were glad you wore a short sleeved white top that was tucked into a dark red skirt. you black stockings reached your knees and black chunky boots fitted your feet. you had a plastic devil horned headband on and a choker wrapped around your neck. fitting. lastly, a pair of dark sunshades covered your eyes.

now, your first task? to get someone named choi taeyong to give into a temptation. as you skimmed through his records on your phone you had to admit the angels did a good job keeping his pure.. well.. for now.. anyways.

you threw the helmet on your head before racing off towards the building on your motorcycle.

stereotypical. you knew it was. but hey, you loved it. 

finally, you stepped into the facility. sm headquarters. you snapped your fingers before the receptionist could say anything before leaning over the counter and scribbling your signature in and grabbing a keycard. without a care in the world you waltzed around the office, sending pretty smiles towards a anyone who looked over to you. and then, you found it. ‘choi taeyong’ indented into the golden plate that hung on the door. you knocked on the door softly. “mr choi?” you asked before opening the door and entering.

he was tapping away at his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration. you cleared your throat: “we had a meeting booked today? i really hope you didn’t forget.” you innocently stated, closing the door.

his head popped up as he shut the lid. he was attractive. newly-wed too. wife’s expecting their first child. rich, powerful and had a family at age 27. a miracle indeed. 

you sat infront of him on the chair, making sure your skirt rode up a little bit. easy now, you have to lure him in. you’ve done this countless times, you’re a natural.

you could tell he noticed by the way he furrowed his brows for a quick seconds. “now miss..?”

“y/n.”

“miss y/n. what is your pitch for our company?” he asked, rolling his chair closer.

you stood up and placed yourself onto his chair arm. your index finger traced his jawline as your thumb gently pushed his bottom lip down. you moved close to his ear and you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“th-this isn’t appropriate. i’m.. i’m married.” he cleared his throat shuffling a little in his seat.

you chuckled lowly: “oh but my love, is that ever a problem? wasn’t it one of your.. fantasies?” your fingers carded through his thick brown hair before your lips pressed down his jaw to his neck. 

taeyong let out a small whimper: “how’d... how’d you know that?” he managed to splutter out between deep, shallow breaths.

“just a guess.. love.” you smashed your lips against his, pulling at his blazer and tie, throwing them off. you seated yourself in his lap now, your lips still on his. you snapped your fingers for the telephone to switch on, dialing his wife. he was too into the moment to notice. 

your hand pressed down onto his now prominent bulge as he let out a loud groan.. much to his wife’s dismay. you could here her voice from out the speaker.

“choi fucking taeyong! how fucking dare you! who’s the bitch with you, you bastard! i’m coming right over!” oh, she definitely heard the moan. you roughed him a little more. tangled hair and purple bruises on his neck before you heard his wife burst through. 

in a split second, you jumped out of the freakishly large windows and scurried onto your motorcycle and zipped away. you heard a voice scream at you as you heard someone run behind you. as you looked into your side mirrors you discovered it was a boy.

“you! you messed up my hard work!”

[melissatreglia]

Did You Miss Me?: Darkiplier in 2018

For the most part, 2018 was a quiet year. In contrast with 2017, where we were gratified to see Dark's monochromatic visage throughout the year, 2018 carried playful hints and teasing of the elusive entity's presence but no confirmation. There were thumbnails and quick flashes that indicated He was continuing to pull strings, ensuring that His presence was felt but His face never really seen.

Throughout 2017, He'd show up during what us mere mortals consider major holidays or important events. Valentine's Day. Easter. Even Cinco de Mayo got a nod. And of course, the infamous Friday the 13th late in the year.

But 2018? He apparently decided to stay home in the void during our days of revelry, with the possible (though not confirmed) exception of the decidedly strange Fall in Love with Markiplier video for Valentine's Day. And for the TWO Friday the 13ths in 2018? He was a no-show. In 2017, He'd returned to shake things up in our safe little lives... and in 2018, He left us wanting more, like the skilled manipulative seducer He is.

Getting Over It, Part 8 included a thumbnail with Mark's dour expression and a suspiciously familiar colour scheme. The thumbnail for WATCH OUT!! had Mark reaching for us in a state of panic (which belied the contents of the video itself). 

Try Not to Smile Challenge #3, while the smile-free serial killer laugh is creepy, it's not a Darkiplier moment. Though, him joking near the end of the video that people who didn’t smile at some point during the video are "soulless demons" does seem to be a Darkiplier reference of some kind (or maybe a Devilplier reference, since the Cuphead song was released just two months later)?

In Madison, when his game character watches a television that glitches and fades to static, Mark fearfully squeaks, "Darkiplier, is that You?!" While in the description for End My Suffering, just ten days later, Mark wailed, "What malevolent being did I piss off to be cursed like this!"

Brother Wake Up promised "I’ll try to help in whatever way I can but you have to wake up!" Which, while it fit perfectly with the title of the game, the description also fit pretty damn well into the channel lore too. And Umfend's description was likewise ominous: "You shouldn't have forgotten about me... I'll make you remember..."

Meanwhile, the title for the video of Welcome The The Game 2.0 doubles as a callback to an earlier Darkiplier moment: "Don't Play This Game". Horns of Fear did it one better, with the thumbnail featuring many eyes staring out at the viewer (again with an all-too-familiar colour scheme), while the title warned us "DON'T LOOK AWAY..."

In the Warframe playthrough late in the year, Mark's camera briefly freezes. But in 3 Scary Games #9, his camera freezes repeatedly before glitching back to normal, and he implies that "there's something else" messing with the camera. In 5 Nostalgic Games, when Mark gives the definition of ubiquitous and bares his teeth while saying "We're learning today!", the video suddenly glitches. 

The thumbnail for Markiplier has fled the country had Mark lunging at the camera, his face completely darkened by shadow. And the thumbnail for 3.75 Scary Games blatantly toyed with the fandom with text shouting "DARKIPLIER?"

And the fanbaiting didn't stop there. More thumbnails that hinted at Dark included a hand bathed in blue light reaching out to the viewer for the fittingly titled The Devil Haunts Me, and a cartoon of Mark cowering away from Dark's furious glare for You're Perfect.  

Markiplier's Tour: The Movie featured the improv teacher stating that Markiplier wasn't at the shows. "I don't know who that guy was, but it wasn't him." Even the Markiplier Animated short I've Got Boobs?! features a brief scene of a shadowy Darkiplier rising from a well and whispering something unintelligible.

For the most part however, the teasing came directly from out of Mark’s mouth.

In 3 Scary Games #5, Mark jokes that a ghost (clad in the classic white sheet and glitching somewhat) is Darkiplier. 3 Scary Games #13, the first (jokey) game called "Death Trips" features RGB text and Mark narrating in an echoing voice. In Midnight Shift, a game where Mark is memorably being chased by mannequins, he jokes that an RGB poster on a wall is "expricitly [sic] Darkiplier". In SCP Containment Breach #57, Mark jokes when he sees the intro screen of a pretty lady in 3D with an open third eye, "Look at this Darkiplier ass thing... it's like Celine, straight out of [Who Killed Markiplier?]". 

In 3 FNAF Fan Games, he even chortles that the game has “Darkiplier letters.” In Devil Daggers, he scoffs, “A high-pitched ringing in the darkness. That’s always good.”

[Image captured by me, on June 3, 2018.] 

Just before midsummer, I received a pleasant surprise. In Imscared: Steam Edition, Mark says "I gotta go get back into the Shadow Realm, the Upside Down." Which, personally, made me very happy at the time. Since I first became active on Tumblr in July 2017, I've been referring to Dark's void dimension as the Shadow Realm, while Mark has referred to it in the past as the Upside Down, making the link fairly clear in this statement. (Somehow, whether by happy accident or serendipity, my terminology and its proper context made its way to Mark. As a fan, I can't describe how pleased that made me, to know he might have actually seen something I’ve made.)

(But enough about me. I’m just an obsessive Darkiplier fangirl. So let’s get back to cataloging all the hinty goodness!)

By this point, you’re probably wondering, “Okay, so all those hints are decent. But where the hell is Dark in all of this?!” But that’s the point, my friends: He was there the whole time. In brief flashes of imagery, in hints and innuendo. Unseen, but his presence clearly felt as our expectations were played with by our channel host.

We expected a wild ride at the beginning, when Mark made two brief livestreams on January 5th, wandering through the theatre he was slated to play for the You’re Welcome Tour. 

The first of the two, “What’s Going In?!”, he showed us the back area of the Paramount Theatre, using only improvised narration and acting to build an atmosphere of dread. He claimed the theatre was haunted, and that he could smell “the scent of death”, ultimately vowing to protect those who would be visiting the theatre to see him that night. He also declares the EXIT a trap, before being pursued by an unseen entity.

The drama continued with “...” (a title that is impossible to find using Youtube’s search options), that begins with an eerie quiet. Tyler eventually finds Mark’s dropped phone. He asks the viewers where Mark is, before going on a search. He’s eventually attacked from behind and the stream cuts off, leaving those who weren’t at the show that night to wonder how the matter resolved.

In Simulacra, there's a brief flash of Mark in his Big Mood outfit with text saying "WAKE UP". When the simulacra changes the colour of the cellphone's display and begins to speak in a calm, creepy voice, Mark reflexively responds, "Darkiplier?" and sounding unnerved at the mention of "behind your black mirrors", then being stunned as the screen appears to crack.

At the end of Simulacra, he gives an uncharacteristically downbeat speech, declaring that "We're all just digital copies of ourselves, idealized in a digital form. And maybe that's the way that life is just supposed to be. Maybe we should all just roll over and accept it, because there's nothing that we can do to change our fates, after all. And who's to say that it's not better for us just to wear the masks that are our digital personas, and live our lives as those? Maybe that is for the best."

The How To Make Slime video goes from harmlessly silly and takes a twist for the stabby. Mark declares "In order to appease the Dark Gods..." then he instructs the viewer to slice their palm and "whisper the words of power." The words in question? "They shall rise. They shall consume. All will be lost when they rise from the darkness of the ocean. Madness opens up to everything." When the making of the slime is concluded, he adds that "We all get to enjoy three years of peace before the Dark Gods consume us all."

I have no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure it may involve Cthulhu chomping on my kidneys. (Then again, Darkiplier is a Lovecraftian monstrosity Himself. So, if it’s Him who’s one of the Dark Gods? He can have a kidney from me if He’s really that hungry. Kidneys are a redundant system anyway, so you really only need one.)

April Fool’s Day brought us the gag gift of The Official Markiplier Rock, with a suspiciously deep voice informing us that the rock is available in white. Additionally, the video warned to alert the SCP Foundation if the rock appears to start talking! (What? My rock has been talking to me since I got it, and there’s nothing wrong with me!)

Baldi’s Basics: Secret Ending featured an explanation about attaining the secret ending, with Mark’s otherwise normal voice echoing slightly with subtle white noise effects. (Hmmm...)

In December, for the charity livestream and archived in a video called Santa Spills The Tea, a Santa Claus that sounded suspiciously like Wilford Warfstache declared that Dark, the master manipulator and Big Bad of Mark’s channel, was a “sweetheart! He shouts a lot, but he’s just a big ol’ pussy. He can’t even possibly… he didn’t hurt anybody! He didn’t kill one person! If there’s anybody who’s on my naughty li— uh, on my list of people who’ve been bad, he’s the only one not on it.” (And mind you, in 2017′s Markiplier TV, Wilford sang a little ditty about how he killed Santa Claus and the kids wouldn’t be getting any presents that year. And Dark still convinced us to shoot someone in A Date With Markiplier, while apparently feigning regret. But heck, use your own judgement.)

Mark also dropped one heck of a hint of things to come in, of all places, Markiplier Tries Korean Beauty Products. There, the descriptive intro to the following year’s DAMIEN animated feature can be heard at one point. “Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees accented by the impact of his axe. A crack-like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes into the ground. Dami-”

Wilford Motherloving Warfstache was, of course, focused on the mustachioed entity. But there were elements to the short film that felt like Darkiplier was watching along with us. Particularly the VHS-style glitch at the end of the film.

Of course, there were only three videos that year that potentially contained Darkiplier himself.

One candidate is Fall in Love with Markiplier. Yes, the name on the title is Mark’s... but is it really him? The entirety of the film is a fourteen minute staring contest with Mark, as he lovingly (and somehow also creepily) gazes at the viewer in different settings -- by the ocean, at a dog park, and in a bubble bath. The only spoken words are in the intro, over the strains of the music from A Date with Markiplier: “It’s scientifically proven that you can fall in love with someone simply by maintaining eye-contact for an extended period of time. So now, you can fall in love with Markiplier all over again in these three locations. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The second candidate is World’s 5th Quietest Let’s Play, released just 5 days prior to the Let’s Have a Romantic Staring Contest video. Unlike the previously mentioned video, there’s more going on this time around. The game to be played quietly this time around is Bennett Foddy’s infamous rage-inducing creation “Getting Over It”. 

He threatens the developer with the words, “You will see the inside of your entrails, when I drag them out of your abdomen and show them to you.” (Ah, how romantic.) He goes even further than that, saying soon after, “This is a representation of My sins... You will be purged in the fires of absolution, along with all of your ilk. I will burn the heretics that you are harbouring inside of your soul... I will destroy you.” (Now there’s the smite-happy Hellgod we all love!)

But He doesn’t stop there, snarling under His breath, “You will burn in the fires of My own hell! And I will choose your pain to last eternity!” However, He is ultimately defeated by the game, departing our company with  “Alas, I leave you now, to slumber amongst the ancients.” (Aww, poor guy needs a hug. And I know just who’s ready to snuggle with Him...)

But the last of the video to potentially contain Darkiplier is... the four-hour long play through of Hearts & Heroes. Is it canon Dark? No, probably not. It’s a fan game, though the words of dialogue are acted out by Mark himself. But rather than simply recounting key phrases for you, here’s the Boss Battle between Mark’s team and Dark, edited by the lovely icedpinkpeebles (Mark’s goofy character names and all!):

So, what does all of this ultimately mean? Why did Darkiplier fade into the background in 2018? And, most importantly, what is He up to now?

The truth is I don’t know any more than you do. I can only guess.

But I can tell you this: We don’t know Darkiplier as well as we all think we do. Many of us (including me) fully expected Dark to raise hell following the events of the jokey Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye video in 2017 (because He did mention how He hates being mocked!). And while we did get more Dark at the end of that year, it was in the form of an origin story.

Whatever Dark’s planning, we’re not going to see it coming. Because He’s playing a long game. And when you’re immortal like He is, you have all the time in the world to get what you want. Be it for love or revenge, Darkiplier remains a force to be reckoned with.

But here we are, in the eye of the storm. Only time will tell before the final wrath of the hurricane makes landfall.

[migleefulmoments]

“Precious little d. Either embarrrssed about talking about sex or it had been quite some time, and if it had been a long time, that seems quite inconsistent with the PR story that was starting to ramp up as this was not long before confirmation day and the I’m a straight man with a gf tour.” Gawd is she serious lols. Darren loves a naughty pun so why would be embarrassed to talk about sex. And seeing as Abby has probably never had sex she should probs keeps quiet.

Darren embarrassed to talk about sex? HE WROTE “ME AND MY DICK”!!!!!! He has a bar called Tramp Stamp Grannies which serves drinks called boob soup...there is no way in hell he was embarrassed.  Like who the hell is she thinking about when she says that? Herself? Kurt with his “because of the layers” conversation? Certainly not Darren Criss.  

The clip is here (X) so you don't have to watch the entire episode.

He says ‘who me” and takes a heart beat to answer - Kathy makes another joke and he says “IDK...IDK, yesterday?” to which Kathy says “because I would think playing a gay guy but being a hot straight guy, you must get a ton of pussy” and he says “Well I mean, well I mean, I don’t want to embarrass Lily...” In fact Darren says “yeah, yeah” while Kathy is saying this.  He wasn’t silent and trembling in the corner while Lily saved him.  IDK what video you were watching.  Kathy wasn’t outing him she was making a joke about how much pussy he gets being straight and hot but playing a gay guy. How do the ccers get everything so wrong? Oh right- they cut the clip, slow it down, make a gif which Abbys calls 

““Little bonus:”

Keep reading some high-end nonsense-I commented on some of the nonsense but I only made the comments regarding this video “bold”. 

Anonymous asked:

For some reason KGriffin has been on my mind today. Her infamous interview asking D about vaginal sex. Dude looked like he was going to come out of his skin. Another thing as close as C is with her I’ve seen a lot of pics with him at her house at parties without the boyfriend.

Oh you mean this classic moment? An interview just a few short months after the woman he had been betrothed to since birth moved to LA and you’d think the answer would be frequent and all time and not something that would completely fluster him. So much so that L/ily had to step in and save him.(Yes, because everyone wants to say “frequently and all the time” about their girlfriend who just moved to town. Classy. Lily didn’t “step in and save him”. You should have watched the video again before you write about it.)

You can always see his brain spinning, thinking “can I say 3 years ago before I became Co/lfersexual? Oh wait my beard lives here now. Surely if it were real it would be all the time. Should I just refer to the last time I had sex with C? They don’t need to know there was no vagina involved…..” (Yes, that is exactly what a sane person would think in the heartbeat it takes him to answer. Watch the video again- NOT THE GIF...your fantasy has changed the facts-you sound like Trump “he ran int other tunnel and died crying and screaming and whimpering like a dog”)  

He was so obviously struggling and thankfully L/ily, an openly gay woman, made it into a joke to spare him. (what joke does L/ily tell that saves him? I’m curious because when I watch the video that part must be mute) 

Precious little d. Either embarrrssed about talking about sex or it had been quite some time, and if it had been a long time, that seems quite inconsistent with the PR story that was starting to ramp up as this was not long before confirmation day and the I’m a straight man with a gf tour. (But look at that, it IS consistent with YOUR story of a fragile but powerful gay man who realized he loved his costar the moment they met but woefully that love is forbidden for reasons that make no sense whatsoever but involve Ryan Murphy and a contract, a contract he signed with wide-eyed innocence at 23. He just wanted to share his talents with the world and the lure of fame dazzled him but he soon found out he signed the deal with the devil. It’s the story of a man who chose the wrong beard and is still paying for that a decade later just as he still pays for signing that contract as a naive 23 yo. A man who, as you say “likes cock”, but it stuck spending most of his time with his “wife”, a woman he detests. This fragile but strong man who wrote “me and My Dick” and mimicked masturbation while standing in front of the paparazzi pen on a red carpet is   is TERRIFIED of talking about sex...duh!)

*****************************************************************************************

rougedraconteur asked:

Just want to say that I could not be happier about most of the Halloween costumes and parties this year. But, I do think it needs to be said that Kathy and Chris were friends before this. By this interview with D, she and Chris had been pals for years. I know she was on Glee, as a judge of one of their many competitions. And she also held a fake marriage ceremony with him on stage somewhere, with Chris as her groom. She’s like Jane, a mom sub. C was on K’s show, then D, same as Jane’s.

And yes, Kathy knew. She always has, same as Jane. They are insiders, people to be trusted with the truth. She just loves to put people on the spot, even those she cares about. All of these folks on the show that day, knew the truth, whatever it was at that time.(She’s his mother figure? but his mother was alive when this was shot. I love how they “know” this stuff-everyone know but nobody thought to help Darren or stop working with Ryan Murphy out of solidarity and support- hell even Darren didn’t support Darren by icing Ryan Murphy out of his life. Also nobody has leaked on bit of information ...ever...in 10 years. That impressive AF. )

***********************************************************************

This Halloween was like Christmas, it was fabulous and no matter what they try, they cannot undo it.  And I am confident D&C were fully aware of what was happening on Thursday night with the pictures. They have been playing this game for years, they know how not to be in the background of photos. They wanted those pics circulated.(more confirmation bias)  So my question is, why now and who allowed those pics to be published?  We all know the content is generally very controlled.  And I would imagine EP has full control over the pics that are released from his party, I always question his involvement and well he was responsible for the only formal pic to date of CC, albeit a group photo.

C killed Halloween with his 2 costume choices. They were amazing. And I love that both he and D wee in drag last Saturday.  

As for M/iarren, while the costumes themselves were not that great (kind of cheap and poorly executed though D as a dalmatian was adorable). I would say she spent more time and effort on the pics with her “squad’), i loved both of them. The villain and the victim. And in both cases, the D character won.  And costume one was a blatant nod to C and his amazing books. Proving she is obsessed with us and what we say and trying to one up C.

Sad for her, she lost Halloween this year and CC triumphed and caused an absolute riot (a riot caused by Chris, Darren, Will and Mia speaking together at a party.. it has come to this#SAD!).  

On K/athy thanks for the insight. I guess i cannot imagine asking such a direct question if I knew the truth. I guess what she failed to realize is that D is a terrible liar, especially back then. (why would Kathy, a great friend to Chris, do something so painful and difficult for Darren in front of a video camera let alone on a comedy show.  Outing someone is a serious matter and not something concussive a rapid-fire comedy show.  Your theory makes no sense whatsoever). His face told a million stories and none of them were of a straight man with a gf that just moves across the country to be with him (yes Abby, his face gave him away because his words sure as hell didn’t, never have and never will. It’s absurd but you continue to believe you know his truth based solely on facial expresses-which you have proven you cannot read accurately-, t-shirt graphics, song lyrics and Instagram “likes” but sadly, that is where we are at).  

No doubt both L/ily and JTF knew.  I think JTF has actually been a role model to D.  And he and JM have been, from what i can see, really amazing to both our guys.(Vomit- random gay men in Hollywood are not “supporting Darren” through his 10 years of closeting, denial and marriage to a women-they have their own lives.) And L/ily would never have jumped in that way if she thought for one second that d was capable of handling it himself (Oh FFS, Darren made the joke about him and Lily having vaginal sex, Lily didn’t jump in, she cracked up and after he milked the joke for all he could get out of it- then she made a joke riffed off his. Your fantasy has overtaken the truth once again. Luckily we have video proof). But since D could not muster an answer, she answered for him and then he was able to collect himself and go with the joke. (that isn’t true at all-it’s a complete a lie).

Intereting side note, when that video originally aired, i still believed the PR story and I remember thinking about how odd his answer was and how uncomfortable he was. And i wasn’t looking for anything as I didn’t think there was a reason for him to lie.  

I love this interview. And example of something team shit would dream about if only d could answer convincingly and instead it completely shined a light on the fact that D is queer and prefers the company of men, at least at that point in his life (Not making a statement on his past and sexuality) (OMG really? You're not? All you do is make statements about his sexuality. Let’s pretend you are right with this theory- For all the help that Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Ricky Martin, Ryan Murphy, and all the other gay men in Hollywood are providing ccDarren, this video showing how team shit failed again was broadcast 6 1/2 years ago (3/13) and Darren is still saying he’s straight, he’s still not spending time with Chris -well of course except the Halloween moment caught on the camera-they still lead entirely different lives and Darren married Mia sooo I’m not sure how they are team “shit”. Sounds like “team perfect” since everything is going their way.  They even got Darren to cuddle Mia for a photo as “punishment” for that little moment with Chris...Team Shit for the Win....again!) 

[thelivingautomaton]

i got tagged in two separate things by @princess-of-france and @wrinkleintime, so here they both are condensed into one post for easy reading!

LIST TEN SONGS YOU’VE BEEN LISTENING TO RECENTLY

this must be the place, talking heads (it reminds me of my boyfriend and i miss him)

hell and you, amigo the devil (i put this on a playlist i made for my english class...you know, as one does)

i love you like an alcoholic, the taxpayers (also on the playlist)

until olympius returns, the mountain goats (still have to listen to the whole album but this one is a BANGER)

baby, can you dig your man?, heavy-set paw-paws (heavily references one of my favorite books, the stand, which i’ve been thinking about a lot lately for...obvious reasons)

creep (cover), richard cheese (it makes me laugh)

electra descending, christian death (unofficial theme song of my d&d character, jocasta)

grinding halt, the cure (quarantine mood: the way robert smith sings “no ME?! no people!”)

the invisible city of kitezh: battle of the kerzhenets, nikolai rimsky-korsakov (i have a playlist of classical/instrumental music to listen to while i’m studying that is, no joke, 60+ hours long. this is a good short one)

wuthering heights, kate bush (nothing compares)

...and to get to know me better:

top 3 friendships: ooh this is tough...mitchell, george, and annie from being human (the uk version); kirk, spock, and bones from star trek; and harper and prior from angels in america (even though they only have like, two scenes together lol)

lipstick or chapstick: neither honestly lol

last song: the aforementioned “baby, can you dig your man?”

last movie: oh jesus i can’t remember...i think it was andrei tarkovsky’s stalker? which, BOY that is some kind of movie to watch during social isolation

reading: thomas costain’s the magnificent century, about the rule of henry iii!

3 random things that make me happy: coffee (as you said, lol); citrus smells; taking personality quizzes

[ebaeschnbliah]

SCANDINAVIAN  REFERENCES

________________________________________________________________

In Sherlock BBC - and also a little bit outside of it 

While writing on DISTRACTION & CONSEQUENCES and CABIN ON THE MEADOW, involving Phil with his ‘explosive’ car and the Hiker with the bashed-in head, I couldn’t fail to notice that Phil’s unmoving car is a SAAB … which is a Swedish brand. 

According to the informations given during the promotion campaingn for the Escapre Room, TheGameIsNow, Sherlock lives currently in Sweden. Since these aren’t the only occasions where Scandinavian regions are mentioned in Sherlock BBC, the suspicion inevitably arose that those references could be of some importance. Reason enough to make another little list. :)

TBC below the cut ….

Short definition of Scandinavia

The term Scandinavia in local usage covers the three kingdoms of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. 

In English usage, Scandinavia also sometimes refers to the Scandinavian Peninsula, or to the broader region including Finland and Iceland.  x

A Scandal in Belgravia

As mentioned above, Phil’s immobile car, which ‘explodes’ and thus distracts the Hiker who, as a consequence, is killed by his own boomerang, is of the Swedish brand SAAB. 

The Empty Hearse

Mr. Howard Shilcott, the ‘train guy (and mirror for Sherlock), possesses important informations about the Underground station at Sumatra Road, which once was built but then closed before it ever opened. He wears a ‘funny hat with earflaps’ made of Islandic sheep wool. That hat becomes an object of significance when Sherlock invites his brother to play deductions with him, just like in the old days.

MYCROFT: The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he’s worn it abroad – in Peru. SHERLOCK: Peru? MYCROFT: This is a chullo – the classic headgear of the Andes. It’s made of alpaca. SHERLOCK: No. MYCROFT: No? SHERLOCK: Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you’re looking for. I’ve written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibres.

His Last Vow

The main villain of this episode is designed after Doyle’s British character Charles Augustus Milverton. For some reason, in this adaptation, name and origin of the man have been changed into Charles Augustus Magnussen, who is now from Denmark. The fact that he is ‘foreign’ is driven home explicitly right at the beginning of the episode by the dialogue as well as the accent of the man, who is played by Danish actor Lars Mikkelsen.

GARVIE: Do you think it right that a newspaper proprietor, a private individual and, in fact, a foreign national should have such regular access to our Prime Minister? MAGNUSSEN: I don’t think it’s wrong that a private individual should accept an invitation. However, you have my sincere apologies for being foreign.

The Six Thatchers

Mr. Kingsley, a client, thinks that Sherlock’s deductions, once explained, are actually dead simple. Highly annoyed, Sherlock spontaneously invents a ludicrous story and tells the shocked man that his wife is actually Greta Bengtsdotter, Swedish by birth and the most dangerous spy in the world. She secretly works for none other than James Moriarty and uses her unsuspecting husband as cover to hide her true intentions which will finally precipitate in World War III. 

The first location Mary visits on her hiatus is Norddal in Norway. That’s a small place (ca. 1660 inhabitants) deep inside the Storfjord. Here she picks up a fake passport hidden inside the stonewall of a coastal watchtower. Her new name, Gabrielle Ashdown, is taken from TPLOSH, where Holmes chooses the pseudonym ‘Mr. and Mrs. Ashdown’ for himself and Gabrielle Valladon, the woman who consulted him in the case of her missing husband but is actually Ilse von Hofmannsthal, a German spy who pretends to be Mrs. Valladon. 

The Final Problem

One of the very last scenes of this episode shows a man dressed as Viking, including the (cliched) horned helmet. He lies motionless on the floor in the livingroom of 221b Baker Street (played by Paul Weller). John bends over him and examines his left eye. 

Vikings were highly skilled Norse seafarers who raided and pillaged (like pirates) with their infamous longboats (also well known as dragonboats). They acted as mercenaries but also as merchants, who traded goods across wide areas of Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, European Russia and the North Atlantic islands. Some of them even reached the North-Eastern coast of North America. (X)

That Viking is not the only character in this story who ‘wears horns’. Furthermore, cow horns are also connected to the eye-goddess Hathor, whose other, dangerous side is represented by lioness goddess Sekhmet.

The way this Viking lays there … one leg sharply angled at the knee, the foot shoved beneath the other, outstretched leg and both arms straight beside his torso … it’s a bit odd and strangely reminds me of the ‘dancing men’ drawn on the blackboard in the shot displayed immediately before this one. It almost looks like the way this man lies there could have some meaning. 

And something else comes to mind: the way John bends over the Viking stunningly resembles the scene from Magnussen’s office in HLV, when Sherlock got shot by Mary. One could even say, there are three potential ‘pirates’ gathered in Magnusson’s bedroom in that scene ... Sherlock, John and ‘Viking descendent’ Magnussen. Interesting ...

The Game is Now - Escape Room Promotion

With the cliffhanger of The Final Problem in mind and still no official announcement regarding a fifth series on the horizon, one could come to the assumption that the ‘TheGameIsNow- EscapeRoom’ event serves as a sort of interlude and somehow resembles a ‘SherlockBBC-Hiatus’ (hopefully). Isn’t it interesting that here too, Scandinavia seems to play a role?

During the conversation with Mycroft, in the intercepted message Nr 1, Sherlock mentions that he currently is in Sweden. 

During the intercepted message Nr 2 a map of Scandinavia is shown in the background with informations regarding its natural recources: iron ore, copper, zinc, gold, IKEA and uranium. 

Additionally Mycroft confirms a second time where his brother might be found at the moment: ‘Missing, rumoured to be in Sweden’ is written below a picture of Sherlock, kept in black and white, but temporarily overlaid with pink and green  (Study in Pink and Green)

Scandinavian canon reference regarding the ‘hiatus’

In Doyle’s original story The Empty House, Sherlock Holmes tells Dr. Watson after their reunion that, for some time during his hiatus, he had stayed in Norway under a fake identity. 

“You may have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred to you that you were receiving news of your friend.” (ACD, The Empty House)

Using Sherlock’s own words from The Great Game, one could say that, by now, the story told in Sherlock BBC as well as the EscapeRoom event have a …  ‘distinctly Scandinavian feeling about it’.  :)

Some Scandinavian side notes outside Sherlock BBC

Not Sherlock related. Should be taken with caution and humor: 

Radio Times, November 2018:  Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss reveale that Danish actor Claes Bang will be playing Dracula in their new series. ‘Hell has a new boss’ says the headline. Strictly speaking, the boss in Hell is generally considered to be the Devil (maybe also his grandma :) but surely not Dracula, who is after all just a human who desired immortal strength to protect and revenge the ones whom he loved. At least, that’s the story told in ….

Dracula Untold  (2014) -  some quotes:

"One day I will call on you to serve me in an immortal game of revenge … to unleash my wrath against the one who betrayed me."

“This is not a game!”

"Oh, what better way to endure eternity. For this, is the ultimate game. Light versus dark, hope versus despair. And all the world's fate hangs into the balance." 

Vlad Dracula meets his creator         Let the games begin

“You want me to shake hands with you in Hell? I shall not disappoint you.“  (Sherlock at Jim Moriarty, TRF)

How Dracula BBC came into being

“It came about several years ago,” Gatiss said. “We were filming  — we’d just started the third series of Sherlock, where he comes back from the dead, and we had to break off after two days to go to the RTS Awards (March, 2013) and I had a picture on my phone of Benedict silhouetted against the door of Mrs Hudson’s room. I showed it to Ben Stephenson, who was then the Head of Drama [at the BBC], and I said, ‘Looks like Dracula’. And he said, ‘Do you want to do it?'”  (RadioTimes, April 2019)

“We’re gonna go all Dane“

The same article from RadioTimes, contains an interview with Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. When asked about their upcomming mini-series ‘Dracula’, if there will be more ‘homegrown talents’ among the cast, the producers answered the question in their most familiar way - with lots of laughter and giggling - obviously taking much pleasure in the announcement of their new ‘informations’.

“No, no ..., it’s strictly Dane from now on. We're only casting over Denmark. I don’t think Denmark’s being sufficiently represented and so we’re gonna go all Dane.”  

Strictly Danes …. well, well …. I’m more curious than ever ... and extremely exited!  :))))  

On Scandinavian name-giving tradition

It is a well known custom in Scandinavian regions to create personal names based on the given name of one’s father, grandfather or male ancestor by adding the ending -son/-sen/-søn or -dotter/-dottir/-dattir. This is called a patronymic (while the same method based on the mother’s name is called matronymic). A good example for this in Sherlock BBC is the character Charles Augustus Magnussen …. Magnus-sen = son of Magnus. 

This kind of Scandinavian name-giving tradition is based entirely on first names. Just assuming though, this method would also be applied to last names, then ... a female descendent of someone with the family name ‘Bang’ could be named ... ‘Bangsdotter’. :)))

A last funny detail:  the subtitles for Sherlock BBC, Series 4 (British Edition), display the name of the famous Swedish spy, Sherlock invents in TST, as Greta Bengsdotter. The correct spelling of the first name of Greta’s father (used here as patronymic) isn’t Beng though …. but Bengt.

Bengt (female, Bengta) is the Swedish equivalent of … Benedict.   :)))

As I said above ... to be taken with caution and humor.  :)))))

Thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.    Related post by @tendergingergirl

Mai 2019

[pink-rathian-official]

At the beginning of 2019, I mentioned I would keep track of every game I finished, and sum up my thoughts on all of them at the end of the year. And now I’m half regretting it because I’m gonna have to write out a short summary for each of these games. Oh well. You’ll be able to find all of them under the Read More, if you’re interested. Will be including an arbitrary score next to each game based on how much I enjoyed them.

Just some fun numbers before we jump in to the meat of the post- In 2019, I beat a total of 41 games. That’s an average of 3.41 games per month, which actually isn’t too bad of a rate!

Super Smash Bros. Ultimate (5/5) 100% complete! Beaten twice! Without doubt, the best Smash game yet. You didn’t need me to tell you this- if you’ve got a Switch, then you’ve probably got Smash.

Bayonetta (4/5) A classic character action game, and an immense source of nostalgia for me. Play this game or I’ll break your knees.

Bayonetta 2 (4/5) I actually went into this game with low expectations, I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as the first game. Fortunately I was stupid and wrong and ended up loving it just as much as Bayo1.

Splatoon 2 (3/5) The story wasn’t particularly the most enjoyable thing ever, although I did sink a pretty decent amount of time into the multiplayer. Still not my go-to game if I’m looking for a quick match.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (4/5) It was enjoyable, although kinda started dragging on towards the end. The side content started feeling very repetitive, especially the shrines- but it was still a genuinely great time.

DOOM (2016) (3/5) I raged a wee bit, gonna admit. Although it was fun, I had a lot of frustrations with the late game.

Cthon (3/5) Doom, but a Lovecraftian roguelike. I’d recommend picking it up on Steam, it’s only USD$4.99 regularly, and USD$1.69 during the Steam sale currently going on.

Fire Emblem: Awakening (4/5) I suck at strategy games because I’m a smoothbrain, but FE:A is totally one of the best 3DS games ever released. Lucina is my daughter and the story made me cry.

Hyrule Warriors: Definitive Edition (2/5) I already played the 3DS version, and went into the DE expecting it to be a bit more enjoyable- and while it was, I did find myself getting bored rather quickly.

The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind (5/5) The best TES game ever released according to many fans. While I do still prefer Skyrim more, I can see exactly why so many love it. Planning on returning to do the DLCs soon.

Night in the Woods (4/5) I hate story-centric games, but I liked NITW a lot. The exploration was nice, seeing the town change day-to-day was nice, and the ending was freaky in a good way

Warhammer: Vermintide 2 (4/5) An incredibly fun game, very similar to Left 4 Dead but fantasy themed and with rat monsters. Launched my obsession with the Skaven.

Fallout 3 (2/5) Yeah just play New Vegas instead mate.

Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag (3/5) If you separate it from the rest of the relatively mediocre AC series, Black Flag is pretty gud. I like being a pirate. I don’t like tailing missions. I really don’t like ship tailing missions.

Ib (3/5) I played this game a few times through during my obsession with RPGMaker horror games. Still holds up pretty strong, although it’s a wee bit short.

Amorous (3/5) 100% complete! Yeah it’s just a lewd furry dating sim. Does have a decent character maker that I use as a reference for my fursona now though!

Way of the Samurai 3 (4/5) I don’t know why this game slipped under everyone’s radar back on release. Just overall a very Nice samurai simulator, albeit with some combat that takes some getting used to.

Monster Hunter Generations Ultimate (5/5) The best MonHun released yet. World is great, but for some reason it just doesn’t hold me like GU does. Maybe I’m just a boomer.

Super Mario Odyssey (3/5) It’s definitely what you’d expect out of Mario. Not a bad game by any means, but I just didn’t really keep attached to it like most others seemed to.

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney (4/5) I like being a lawyer, and I love the serotonin rush that I get when cornering a criminal on their logic.

Resident Evil 7 biohazard (4/5) The first RE game I’ve played to completion. I don’t regret it at all, because it was super good. Got some great DLC as well.

SoulCalibur VI (Libra of Soul + Soul Chronicle) (4/5) Loved the character creation, loved gitting gud- did not love some of the side missions in LoS because holy Hell a lot of them are bullshit.

Borderlands 2 (4/5) I hated the first Borderlands, and went into 2 expecting more of the same. Ended up leaving surprisingly satisfied. Great loot n’ shoot all around.

Deus Ex: Game of the Year Edition (4/5) It took me a few tries to really get into this one, but once I did I was totally hooked. The ending battle could’ve used a little more love, but it was still by all means a great game.

Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines (4/5) Despite being a clearly rushed game with a drop in quality towards the last few hours, VtmB is still one of the most solid action RPGs I’ve ever played. Still not exactly gonna excuse the last couple of boss battles though.

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (5/5) This went from “tumblr meme game that I had no interest in” to “one of the best fucking games I have ever played, and it hurt me deeply.” I don’t think I’ve ever been so invested in a story before, and the trial system was very refreshing.

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (5/5) How did they make a story with twists even more mindblowing than the first game? While THH invested me into the series, GD solidified my newfound love for it.

Which (3/5) 100% complete! A very short experimental horror game by indie animator and developer Mike Inel. Not bad at all, and completely worth the free download.

Skullgirls: 2nd Encore (3/5) I never really got good at this game, although the story mode was still very enjoyable. Not particularly something I’m probably gonna be coming back to.

Hollow Knight (5/5) Absolutely spectacular Metroidvania that gives quite a unique challenge. Fell in love with this game so bad that I was constantly thinking about it at work. Please stop comparing it to Dark Souls, it’s such an amazing game on its own merit without needing that comparison.

Undertale (5/5) It’s Undertale, do you really need me to tell you how amazing it is?

Devil May Cry 3 (Dante story) (4/5) Extremely fun and challenging. If you haven’t played this game yet then you are wrong. Beating the first Vergil battle without being hit filled me with very unneeded confidence- the spectacular final battle against Vergil stripped that confidence away.

Ion Fury (3/5) Very challenging, but still super enjoyable. The heroine is a genuine badass, loved hearing her quips. The final boss was garbo though.

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (5/5) Sekiro absolutely deserved the GOTY award. Loved the combat, loved the challenge, loved everything about this beautiful game.

Dragon Quest XI S: Echoes of an Elusive Age Definitive Edition (5/5) DQXI singlehandedly changed my opinion on JRPGs. A story that’s equal parts awesome and tearjerking, combat that feels truly satisfying, and a quirky world that had me hooked for all 98+ hours.

Danganronpa Another Story: Ultra Despair Girls (4/5) While it absolutely was a good game, something about it didn’t really hold the charm that the other Danganronpa games had. The story was still superb, and the twist at the end was hooh.

Spyro the Dragon (3/5) 120% complete! The nostalgia factor drew me in, the level design kept me. Except for Tree Tops, fuck you Tree Tops.

WarioWare Gold (3/5) Packed with the best microgames from WarioWare’s history, but not enough content to keep me there past the main story mode.

Metal Gear Solid: Snake Eater 3D (3/5) MGS3 is one of my favorite games ever, but the 3DS port’s framerate issues really killed the fun for me.

Halo: Reach (4/5) The story mode was good, but the multiplayer was absolutely sublime. I raged, I cheered, I had the fun I missed out on growing up without an Xbox.