#i think if i killed myself that would actually be a very reasonable response to all of this because i SWEAR TO GOD this is ridiculous

[merp-blerp]

TW: Discussion of sexual assault and suicidal ideation

I've been seeing some debate about Calypso and whether or not she sexually assaulted Odysseus and I want to throw in my two cents.

I'll say straight out of the gate that I don't currently like her much. I feel pretty icky about her personally.

Comparing Ody's behavior in Epic prior to "Love in Paradise" vs during the song feels so... clearly different. He seems very traumatized by whatever has been happening on that isle. It almost feels out of character for him to consider dying instead of fighting to get home alive like he had been, but putting myself in his shoes I can see how he came to that through what's textually known. He has been trapped on that isle for 7 years—that's nearly a decade, with no way to get out, everyone he knows and loves dead or far away with no way to know where he is or if he's alive. While I obviously would never think that's a good decision, I can see how he got to the point of wanting to end it. And if he's been sexually assaulted like he was in The Odyssey, I understand it more due to how that can warp a person's mental health.

I've seen some say, "Calypso is just a sweetie who doesn't know how to love properly" (paraphrasing of an actual comment I've seen). Even if she really just doesn't know how to care for a mortal, as many of the gods seemingly don't, I think she understands her power over mortals with her "Bow down now to the immortal Calypso" comment. She also understands that Odysseus doesn't want her, with the first part of her response to Ody's threats being "Oh handsome, you may try". She knows that he may try to escape by killing her (even though she can't die). Honestly, why would she feel the need to trap him if she didn't know good and well that he would want to escape her? She knew what she was doing was something that would make him want to run. Calypso being a goddess automatically gives their dynamic a power imbalance of course. Even though the assault is only implied, the fact that she's trapping Ody against his will, super infatuated by him, and still says "Soon, into bed we'll climb and spend our time", makes me feel like the indication is clear. What's stopping her from trying to have "sex" with him (sex isn't sex without consent)? She's already ignored all his declines. She seems to think that forcing her "love" onto him will make him love her. Yes, she uses lovey-dovey language so I doubt it would've appeared violent, but sexual assault doesn't have to look violent and the perpetrator doesn't have to appear aggressive. It's telling that I've seen some say, "Save that energy for Antinous" because Antinous is much more obviously bad, but this kind of thing isn't always obvious. That kind of assault is still extremely traumatizing whether it's sugarcoated as if it's love or not. It's dismaying that some reactions to Calypso bypass her potential assaulting or "She's weird, but she seems to care for him!" And since the sexual part of the assault is technically subtext (for now, who knows about later), I'll say that even if Calypso didn't sexually harm him, she still forces physical and verbal intimacy onto him and traps him so he can't leave. We see that. That's still assault. The only reason why I don't feel similarly about Epic's version of Circe is that her intent wasn't to have sex with Ody but to distract and throw him off with talk of sex so she could stab him as he's vulnerable; Circe never wanted to have sex with Ody in actuality. Calypso's intent was romantic intimacy and she didn't care if Odysseus said no, she completely bypassed it. Calypso saying "You're mine, all mine" feels as threatening as Circe's "I've got you" was meant to be.

Anything can change between now and the next two sagas. It could either be fully confirmed or denied that sexual assault took place. I actually don't expect either, as I don't think Jay would go too deep into such a traumatic concept in Epic, but then again I also didn't expect suicidal ideation to be brought up at all and it absolutely shocked me when it was, so I could be wrong. But whether it's confirmed or not, I don't blame any Epic fans who don't like Calypso or even hate her over what she did and what it's implied she did. It's icky watching some fans tell others they shouldn't hate Calypso because of this or that as if this isn't a sensitive and complex topic. It's creepy. I don't think we should tell people not to hate a character associated with sexual assault. The sexual assault might be subtext, but subtext is important and sometimes is implemented intentionally. Not every part of a story is going to be given to you at face value. Just because "Epic didn't say that" doesn't mean that the implication doesn't matter. People interact with stories in different ways, so you can disagree with others—no one can take that from you, but you don't get to tell someone they can't feel a certain way about a character. I don't like saying this because I really shouldn't have to put it in this perspective for it to be understood, but I can't help but feel like if Calypso and Ody's genders were swapped some people would treat this implication differently. Sexually or not she hurts him.

Normally I don't like taking lore from The Odyssey and automatically applying it to Epic, as Epic has changed a lot of rules from The Odyssey because Jay wants to tell this story his own story. For example, I personally choose not to assume Eury and Ody are brothers-in-law in Epic like they are in The Odyssey because that hasn't been stated in Epic so far. But to me, the implications of Ody's sexual assault are there enough for me personally to think that it might take place in both stories. Jay seems to want Epic to be accessible to many people, so it doesn't surprise me that this element of The Odyssey was brought up in a more subtextual/"hinted at" way.

Calypso is a very interesting character, maybe the most out of all the Epic antagonists so far for me, but we don't have to think of her as not doing anything wrong in order to enjoy that character, her songs, her cute physical character design, or Barbara Wangui's beautiful voice.

[The remainder of this post contains potential spoilers for the unreleased (to date) Vengeance Saga under the cut]

Another defense of Calypso I've seen is that in the snippets for "I'm Not Sorry for Loving You", Ody says he loves Calypso, but not in the way she wants him to. This could mean they're friends and therefore doubt about the sexual assault could be cast.

It's hard to assess this because the saga's not out yet, but it's worth remembering that abuse can come out of care, in a complicated way. You can care for someone so much you end up hurting them, usually out of wanting to control them. Calypso seems to fit that concept. And most Epic snippets don't give full context, naturally, so who knows why Ody says this at the moment. Maybe he means it, or maybe he's bluffing to guarantee he'll get what he wants (which is to be set free in this instance), like when meeting Athena, or to appease a god, like when "apologizing" to Poseidon in "Ruthlessness". And of course, victims don't have to hate their perpetrators if they choose not to. Odysseus can care about Calypso and she can still have hurt him really badly. Both of these things can be true.

The way I read it, Calypso doesn't love Odysseus like she thinks she does. She's infatuated by him and cares for him enough to not be obviously cold like all the other obstacles Ody faced initially are. She declares that she loves him as soon as he wakes up on her isle without knowing him at all. She didn't even know his name. The washed-up person on her isle could've been anyone and she likely would've "loved" them. Calypso only loves Ody because he stops her loneliness, not for who he is. When she begins to state that she loves him she doesn't even know him. Over the 7 years, she seems to have potentially gotten to know him a bit, saying "I know your life's been hard", but Odysseus himself asserts that she doesn't really know what he's been through. You can call someone (against their will, let me remind you) "my dear, my love for life" all you want, but that doesn't mean you love them. Ody's her first companion in years if not ever, of course she cares for him on a basic level. She won't kill him or let him jump off a cliff. But she doesn't love him or treat him like a human and obey his boundaries and wants. She treats him like an object or pet she owns and has to guard.

In "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" Calypso says that Ody is all she's ever known because she was abandoned. It's understandable that she would latch onto a living creature after being alone for so long. But that's not necessarily love, at least not to me. If I love someone I wouldn't bypass their refusal to do something. And I wouldn't trap them with me and not let them go, even when they're about to jump off a cliff because they see no way out. I'm not sure if Calypso means to bring malice, she at least says she "bring(s) no pain", but she does regardless or if she intends to. Calypso hasn't had anyone in her company, let alone someone to love, for so long, maybe in her whole life. That's why she doesn't know what love is, so of course when she catches fickle feelings for Odysseus she assumes that's love and has no clue what to do with her "love", as she admits in "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You". Calypso's actions are understandable, but that doesn't mean they're excusable or not abusive. What she does to him is understandable, but selfish and only serves herself, which isn't what you do to someone you love. Note that the way I use understandable here does not equate to forgivable, it just means conceivable. And her apology to him really waters down the magnitude of her actions, saying she "pushed" him, "came on too strong", and that her love might've been "too much" for Ody.

I apologize for this being such a long rant, but I wanted to cover all the excuses for Calypso I'd seen and speak my mind on why I think they're misguided at best.

[clonewarsahsoka]

I've just had such an awful fucking time

[klausysworld]

Hi could you write some angst about a deeply insecure reader who hates her appearance and is sort of friends with Elena and everyone(pushed to the side kind of relationship)but when klaus comes around it’s clear that she has a crush but believes he’s out of her league then klaus uses it to his advantage by showing an interest in her for information and helps her with her self worth.klaus then starts to develop feelings for her but then it’s revealed that he was just manipulating her and reader is devastated and utterly humiliated and it sets her back to how she was before him.(sorry if that was a really long explanation,you can decide the ending)thanks I love your writing btw

Real

Growing up in Mystic Falls is a bizarre experience.

There were town events almost every month where you had to dress up and act better than everyone, parents basically had a competition over who had the prettiest daughters or the most handsome sons.

Not my parents.

They didn't think I was good enough to even pretend that I could compete. I was told my worth from a young age and became more aware of it with time. When your own parents don't think you're good enough it's sort of an eye-opener if you will.

It didn't help that everyone in this town seemed to be born into modelling.

Somehow I was lucky enough to wind up 'friends' with people like Elena, Caroline and Bonnie but I knew I didn't belong with them. Somehow they were gorgeous enough to get whatever they wanted.

Sometimes I wondered if everyone else at the age of 17 looked like them and I was behind or if somewhere, I was above average. I doubted it. A lot.

Occasionally I would look at a mirror and think that I wasn't even that bad to look at. There was nothing particularly ugly about me, there just wasn't anything special. I looked plain in a way, bland and forgettable.

I was very forgettable actually. My 'friends' made that abundantly clear throughout the years when they would go out without me or forget to ask if I also wanted something or liked something.

Somehow I was of no value to them. Perhaps I was simply there to amplify their beauty. Like a DUFF. I was definitely the DUFF.

Damon actually told me that I was once, after Tyler had made the joke and Damon asked what it meant. Even though I already knew it to be true, to be told it was much worse.

You could sort of tell everyone else was thinking it, especially when I was stood beside Caroline.

Stefan was the only one who was nice but I wasn't sure if it was out of pity or just because that was who he was. Then again, I'd rather just not know.

So I tried my best to keep in the background, avoid attention and stay out the way.

Even with all the vampire and werewolf drama that took course, I kept myself quiet and to the side. Strangely it was Katherine who was kind to me, whether she had an ulterior motif I'm not so sure anymore but she never hurt me in the time she was there. Neither did Elijah when he came to town, he was polite to everyone but it was obvious that my presence was irrelevant to him.

And then of course, Klaus arrived.

I didn't officially meet him until the senior prank night, he sort of just threw to the side and told me to keep my mouth closed and not to bother running because he'd just kill me. Part of me thought about running anyway so he would just end it but I didn't.

Klaus dragged me by my wrist into his car, told me to keep quiet while he drove Elena to the hospital. For whatever reason he brought me along and left me in the car as he went to drain her of blood for his hybrids. I did as told: sat silently and waited.

He came back out and spoke to Damon for a moment, I saw them glance over in my direction only for Damon to laugh and smirk. I sighed to myself and got out the car. It was clear that Klaus thought I could be a good pawn but was surly mistaken and Damon told him to do whatever he wanted to me. In response I walked home, neither noticed so it was fine.

A week or so later he came back, crashed homecoming or something? I dunno, I wasn't there but I was told about it the next day via a stroppy Caroline.

It was that same day that he came and sat beside me at the grill. I ignored him for the most part, confused by his attempt at what I could only guess was flirting? I wasn't really sure. I think he could tell.

"Not easily impressed are you love?" he questioned as he leant forward, uncomfortably close. I sort of just looked at him, still unsure to what he wanted. A smirk pulled at the end of his lips and his hand lifted, his fingers wrapping around a piece of my hair making frown and pull away abruptly. Without hesitation I stood up and spun on my heel, going to leave. His laugh followed me and a hand grabbed my waits, it was stange.

"Calm down love, It's not like I was going to rip it out, I just wondered what it felt like" he chuckled, pulling my back flush against his front making me tense and squirm.

"It feels like hair" I stated simply "Now get off" I grunted, shoving my elbow into his side to make him let go. I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground.

The next time I saw him he apologised for the previous encounter which again, i didn't understand but there was no point in questioning and arguing so I just accepted it and tried to leave but he asked if I'd stay for one drink, he asked so nicely and he smiled. I was stupid enough to think it was genuine and accepted.

Looking back it was pretty obvious that this was a game for him or a trap, whatever you want to label it but in the moment I ignored what was right in my face. Deep down I knew it was all a joke of sorts really.

But no boy, let alone a man had shown me this sort of attention and the soft fluttering it made me feel had me staying for far too long. I listened to his little stories and asked a range of questions as the drinks kept coming. He asked a couple about me but i gave relatively vague answers. There wasn't much I had to give him on me, I wasn't up for a pity party about friends and I didn't really fancy talking about my shitty parents either. I think Klaus picked up on the fact that I didn't really want to talk about me and eventually gave up with it.

It was late when I realised I needed to get home and he offered to take me which I admit made me wary. I didn't want him to kidnap me and think I'd be any good as leverage again, though I guess Damon made that pretty clear already. I decided to just walk home which he eventually accepted and got into his car.

Walking by myself probably wasn't my best option after drinking so much in one go but I made it home with minimal stumbling. My mother shook her head when she saw me and asked what was wrong with me. When she realised I had been drinking her mind jumped to two very different conclusions. The first being that I was being a slut which was ironic as in the past she'd made it clear that no guy would want to sleep with me, and the second being that I had taken pills to kill myself.

Listening to her drastic thinking made me wonder what kind of pills she was on but I didn't question it and waited for my father to come and take her to bed, telling her to just ignore me. Then I proceeded to make my way to the bathroom, getting changed and washing my face before going to my bed.

My phone dinged making me sigh, thinking it was Elena asking me to help her with something dumb and life threatening however much to my surprise it was Klaus. A smile involuntarily spread across my face and we messaged back and forth before he told me to rest.

The following few days he would just check in. Not too much but he also made it clear that he hadn't forgotten me which was all I had ever truly wanted from someone. To be acknowledged at the very least.

Of course I didn't tell the others that he had been talking to me, besides they didn't ask so I didn't see why I should. I guess I just wanted something for myself.

I wasn't completely stupid. I always had the feeling that he was using me, especially towards the start...but he was just so wonderful with his words and his ways.

When he began to make and buy sweet gifts and claim they were tokens of his affection, I couldn't help the blush on my face. When he would find a way to have his skin against mine, or how he would pick up my hand and gently tug my along. Somehow we always seemed to end up somewhere for food, and he would always refuse to let me pay.

Something about him was so enticing, addictive if you will.

He began to make me feel a certain way. He made me warm and happy. His touch was so soft, it made me feel like I was buzzing. i was stupid for thinking he could feel the same way about me.

I had been so scared to admit my feelings.

He had assured me that he would never push me to.

He told me that he liked me, that he didn't want me to be frightened of him or nervous around him. "Not unless it's the sort of nervous that puts butterflies in your stomach sweetheart" he had teased and my cheeks had glowed red.

Over the space of months his presence never lessoned. He always made time to see me, and speak with me. I found myself longing for his voice, his touch.

On days where he was too busy at home, he would urge me to come over. I would spend as long as I possibly could with him, a few times I even stayed over but he had slept on top of the duvet so that I would feel comfortable.

This had gone on for a small while until he actually said the words 'I love you'.

Perhaps I was just so happy to actually hear those words. Maybe I believed them to be true, real. Or I just saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear and ignored the rest.

The time I gave myself to him used to make my smile and blush. Now it just makes me feel dirty, humiliated and embarrassed.

Knowing that he could and has had his hands all over my body, his lips and eyes. In the moment I felt like a goddess, probably because that’s what he told me I was. The memory of him inside me haunts me. I had thought it to be such a beautiful experience, romantic and personal.

I wish I could say that I had slept with him only once but as the months went by we would share intimacy often.

I had even told him that I loved him, so many times and I meant it for all of them.

So you should understand why it was so hard to accidentally hear him tell his sister that he had been compelling me for any information on the others.

It had felt as though my heart had stopped when the words hit my ears and tears already made my eyes burn. I heard a weak laugh and turned my head to see Damon, strung up by chains whilst bleeding all over, looking straight back at me.

“Y/n…” I heard Klaus’s voice, his tone one of panic or maybe it was just surprise. He probably didn’t want me to know of his routine. Damon only rolled his eyes and gave me look,

“You didn’t…think it was real, right?” He coughed, a cruel smile on his face.

His words just made me quieter. They made me think. Why did I think it was real?

My eyes slowly lifted to meet Klaus’s. I could see and feel Rebekah looking at me, everyone was silent. Even Damon shut up for a second. I think maybe he was expecting me to say something but I didn’t really have anything to tell him.

As awful as it all made me feel, and even with the amount of emotions swallowing me, I felt more disappointed in myself than I did him.

My right hand went to my left arm, pinching my skin through my jumper in some sort of hope that I’d wake up from some stupid nightmare but it didn’t work.

The first tear fell from my eye and I sniffed to keep the other ones from coming.

Klaus just looked at me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, I didn’t want to know either. I could just guess anyway.

So without a word I just turned around and left, walking quickly back out the door before breaking into a sprint in the direction of my house. I could feel the mascara running down my face, ruining the foundation I had only recently started wearing, for Klaus’s benefit.

My hands wiped at the tears as I pushed my from door shut behind me and went upstairs, blocking out the annoyed voices of my parents and locking myself in my room.

It was only once I was in the shower that I was flooded with memories. That I remembered all the things I had done with him. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom my skin was scrubbed raw in an attempt to wash his touch away. Even the slightest touch made me feel as though my body was burning, stinging with pain but I would have rather felt that every day than have to realise Klaus had been using me for over a year now.

I was curled in my bed, hidden under the blankets and surrounded by the dark as I let every comment not matter how small or petty play back through my mind.

I wasn’t even sure who to be upset with. I chose myself.

Klaus must’ve known I was an easy target. Desperate. I wonder how much he’s had me tell him. To be fair I knew more than you’d expect about what was going on. I had gotten good at observing and overhearing so I still knew what was going on, even when spending so much time with Klaus himself.

I also wondered what else he had compelled me to do. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything other than ask questions but I couldn’t help that fear creep inside me. It made me sick to my stomach, and then I wondered if he would just wait to compel me again so that I could continue to be his information feeder.

The idea made my fingers dig into my arm, bruising the skin purple but I wouldn’t stop. I only did so that I could go get some vervain that I kept downstairs in one of the cupboards at the back. I was reaching for the little glass bottle when I heard a door close. I spun around quickly to see Klaus in the doorway of my kitchen. My hand clutched onto the vervain tightly and I noticed his eyes glance at it briefly. His hands went up as if to show no harm but there was no way I would believe that meant a thing.

“Sweetheart- listen to me..” he began and I let out a breathless laugh

“Get out” I whispered making him sigh and frown as though he had the audacity to be upset or annoyed.

“Y/n..”

“No Klaus. I’m fucking serious, get out.” I told him, my eyes watering again. I let out an involuntary whimper when he stepped forward making him stop and stand still.

“I never meant for you to know that” he whispered and I frowned, swiping a tear away.

“Sorry I ruined your plan” I mumble, exhausted.

“No- no I didn’t mean it like that- I meant that-“

“Klaus it’s fine” I murmur, avoiding his eye, “It’s fine, I get it. You needed to know what was happening, you got to be two steps ahead. I’d appreciate if you just found someone else now please”

I could feel his stare on me, it make my skin itch and I just needed him to go. I could feel my hand getting clammy as I held onto the bottle.

“I haven’t compelled you in such a long time” he muttered, as though maybe that made it better. “I used to, but I truly have fallen for you Y/n. I love-“

“Please get out” I cut him off, my spare hand resting on my forehead to cover my eyes.

“I love you”

“No you don’t” I cry, “you wouldn’t do this to someone you love. I know you don’t love me. You never have and you never could. You’re just pretending again so I’ll let you control me, I don’t like it” I whimper, tears streaming again. I could hear him getting closer but I was already against the counter and I couldn’t out run him. There was no point in trying.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never use you again-“ he tried to argue but I couldn’t listen to it.

“I really, really need you to leave. Please Klaus just get out, I can’t stand you” I tell him honestly and for a second as I look up at him, he looks almost sad but I have to assume it’s still apart of his act.

“You- you’re not going to do anything…anything harmful are you? To yourself, I mean.” He asked and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I should never have told him that I’d had those thoughts or feelings once. I shouldn’t have ever said a word to him.

“No…now go away” I whisper, my hands trembling as I stared at the ground, listening to his footsteps eventually get further away.

I knew there was no way I could sleep, he was probably still outside my house. Waiting.

I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for but I could him there.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "can you do one where y/n likes Colby and he likes her but they don't really do anything about it but flirt until they're at the spot and a ghost/demon thing (you can completely make up the scenario), torments and targets y/n to the point she's crying and runs out with Colby chasing after her? Pleaseeeee"

Warning: This one shot will start out kinda funny and flirty between reader and Colby, but it will get dark and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by.

Read with care my lovelies!

Word count: 10.3k

Disclaimer: I completely made this story up!

"We're going to explore the Hellriegel Manor in a few days.. you in?" Colby says on the other end of the phone. You smile to yourself and sigh, "I suppose I can make time in my very busy schedule for you."

You are always up for doing a video with them, even hanging out with them off camera. You've known them for a while, so sleeping over at their place or in the same tent while in the middle of some haunted woods wasn't that big of a deal, or so you thought.

"You better, y/l/n. We need you on this one." Colby chuckles to myself, "Plus, we kinda miss you out here."

You liked Colby, a lot actually. Sam is always teasing you guys, mainly because he knows he likes you too, but you both always shoot it down for stupid reasons.

You thought that maybe it would be best if you just kept him as a close friend, but the light flirting and how comfortable you are with each other makes it incredibly hard, not to mention, you and Colby are always thinking about each other though, especially when you crash at their place, and when you're asleep in a tent within in an arms reach away from each other.

You laugh as you hear Sam in the background yelling, "Don't let him lie to you y/n. He's been crying like a baby every night since you've been gone."

Point proven.

"Shut up, dude, my god. She can hear you." Coby says with a groan and you can tell that he's getting shy, "Fuck." You picture his big smile as you grab your laptop, listening to them bicker back and forth like usual.

You had to admit, you missed them, too. Even though you're visiting your family on the east coast, you honestly felt homesick.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." You bite your lip, waiting for a response but it's quiet, "Um, hello?"

You hear muffled yelling, and you already know that it's Colby trying to get Sam to keep his mouth shut, "That's great, y/n! See you tomorrow!" Colby yells over Sam trying to yell out.

"Stop it. Please." You can hear Colby laugh, and Sam yells, still slightly muffled, "Bye!"

You hang up and shake your head laughing as you click open a new tab and type in the place Colby said you're going.

"Hellriegel Manor." You repeat to out loud after reading one do the old newspaper headlines. You scroll down as your eyes scan over the screen,

Multiple prostitutes brutally murdered in Hellriegel Manor

Callum Hellriegel is the devil himself

The ruthless murder of Hellriegel Manor revealed

Callum Hellriegel, killer found dead by self inflicted gunshot wound to head

The town thinks workers at the manor were involved

You blink a few times, shaking your head as you let out a sigh. You reach for your phone and FaceTime Colby.

He picks up fast, "Hey."

"So a possible demon. That's nice." You look into the camera and tilt your head. He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh, "I was trying to wait until you got here to tell you, but I guess cats out of the bag."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah." You laugh slightly and squint, "Oh no." Colby looks behind him then back to you, "What?"

"It's quiet... did you finally kill Sam?" You smile slowly and he laughs, "No, no. He's upstairs editing."

"So I called at the right time then, huh?" You tease and he nods with a smile, "Yeah, yeah, you did."

You move back onto your bed, continuing to look up the manor, "Colby."

"Yes?" He asks staring at you through his phone, but he looks away when you look, "This place looks fucking creepy, and it sounds even worse."

You know what he's about right say next, so you cut him off by speaking, "I'm still going." You bite your lip as you read, "I think with having a girl there, it might help us figure out what really happened."

He nods, "I was taking to Sam about that, too, actually. It also might be the worse because of how bad that Callum dude is made out to be."

"Yeah, but.." You nod slowly as you read more, and your eyes widen, "Colby."

"Y/n."

"Do you know what Hellriegel means?" Your eyes move over to your phone that's propped up against your computer screen and he shakes his head, "Probably something not good."

"It means the Devil, in German." You swallow slowly, "Fuck I have the chills now."

"Again.. if you do-"

"I'm going." You smirk, "My flight is already booked and.." just as you were about to say something really sweet, you hear Colby groan and Sam appears on the screen, "Ayo!"

You laugh and wave, "Hi again Sam."

"She's looking up Hellriegel Manor." Colby looks up at him and he sighs, "Does that mean you cancelled your flight?"

You scoff, "Please. Do you not have any faith in me, Golbach?" He smirks and rolls his eyes, "You right. Plus you'll have this guys, Mr intimidator here, to protect you." He grabs Colby's shoulders and shakes him slightly.

Colby's face is turning red, but so were your cheeks. You had to admit, it's getting a lot harder for you to resist each other, especially when he is making sure you're okay in the middle of an investigation.

He was and is the one you run to when you're jumping out of your skin scared.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I gotta go tell my parents that I'm leaving tomorrow." You pick up your phone and set your laptop down before you get up.

"Text us your landing time and we'll be here." Sam says and you give him a thumbs up. He walks away and Colby points the phone back to him, "Tell them we said hey and I'll see you tomorrow."

You smile and nod, "I will, and I'll see you tomorrow."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You couldn't stop thinking about what Colby said, about this possibly being a bad idea about you going, but you never turned away an adventure with Sam and Colby.

You're not going to start now.

As you walk through the airport, you hear your name being called. You jump slightly and turn, seeing Sam and Colby walking up to you.

"How was your flight?" Sam asks bringing you in for a hug. You hug him back, "It was alright, boring but alright." You look over at Colby who can't wait to have you in his arms, as you lean back from Sam.

"Glad you made it here safe." Colby wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You close your eyes, happy to be back with them until Sam clears his throat, "Maybe get a room or something?"

"Dude." Colby says loosening his arms from your waist as he turns to him trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes, "You'll never quit will you?"

He shrugs and holds his hands up, "Maybe if you guys would just admit that you like each other.."

"Oh my god." You try to hide your smile, but ayour cheeks regaining that blush of pink like normal doesn't help matters at all, "Can we just go please? I'm hungry."

Colby laughs slightly and wheels your suitcase behind him, "Yes. Please." He glares over at Sam who can't help but smirk at him.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Back at the house, they give you the rundown on what they know about Hellriegel.

"So as you already know, Callum Hellriegel was a very.." Sam trials off as he tilts his head and you raise your eyebrows, "Devil of a man?"

Sam nods, "Exactly."

Colby speaks up, "There's been a mix of good and bad investigations, so it's really hard to tell what exactly we'll be dealing with."

You nod, "Hmm. Well I mean, if it gets too bad we can always high tail it out of there."

Colby nods, "Yeah, exactly. did you read up on anything else after our call or no?" You shake your head, "Since you said you wanted to fill me in, I figured I'd wait. Hear what you have to say." You smirk slightly and he nods.

"How nice of you." Sam says laughing, "But on a serious note guys.." he looks to Colby and back at you, "we truly have no idea what we're going to walk into."

"That's the exciting part though, right?" You shrug and smile, trying to stay positive because you were actually shitting your pants about going to this place.

"Bingo." Sam points and looks at his phone when it goes off, "That's the owner of the manor.." he answers, "Hello?"

You and Colby exchange smiles as you look back to Sam who is nodding, "Alright sick, yeah thank you." He hangs up and looks between you and Sam, "Tomorrow night."

You're kinda shocked but then again, kinda not surprised that it's happening this soon, "Oh great."

"What? Getting scared are we?" Sam teases and you side eye him, "Where is your faith in me, Sam? We talked about this." You laugh and he shakes his head, "I honestly didn't expect him to let us in that easy. It's always been a fight for other investigators to go there."

You smile, "You guys are changing the world, how could they not?"

"You're a part of this team too, y/n.." Colby smiles and looks from you to Sam, "So we are changing the world." He looks back to you, "You sure you're up for this?"

"I'm sure."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It wasn't until two am when you stared up at the ceiling, wondering if you really are sure about this. The more you thought about it the more it scared you but this is what you do, you remind yourself over and over again.

This is what you do.

Luckily, this isn't the first time you've been in this situation, and each time you are, both Sam and Colby make sure you're okay, along with each other of course.

You let out a sigh, rolling over to face the tv and your phone lights up. You reach out, grabbing it to pull back over to you and you see it's a message from Colby, I know you're nervous about this place and honestly.. we are too, but if things do turn bad, we'll get out of there.

You turn onto your back and a smile rests on your lips and your thumbs quickly tap the keyboard on your screen, I was actually needing that reassurance right now. I can't sleep because I am very nervous about tomorrow, but we've probably been through worse, right?

As you're waiting for a reply, you see a twitter notification pop up at the top of your screen and you laugh slightly, "Fucking Sam."

You click on the notification,

@/SamGolbach: New video popping up soon! @/Colbybrock, @/yourtwittername, and myself are going to be spending the night in the Hellriegel Manor. Stay tuned!!

You like the tweet and retweet it with a bunch of nervous face emojis and Colby instantly likes it.

You click on your group chat with both Sam and Colby, So we're all just up huh?

Sam texts back, Um, no. Only losers who won't confess their love for each other are awake at 2 in the morning

Same texts back again, talking about you Brock

Colby sends you a text separately then replies into the group chat, I'm not up what are you talking about?

You laugh as you type, bring the party down here, I'm kinda freaking myself out

Sam instantly replies, Take it to Colby's room

"Sam!" You hear Colby yell from upstairs and then a door opens, "Only trying to help." Sam says as he comes down the stairs, a shirtless Colby behind him, "Only making it worse, brother."

You sit up, looking back at them, "Can you turn the light on, please?"

Colby nods, flipping the light on and Sam instantly yells, "Oh my god, behind you."

You jump up off the couch, running backwards towards them and you push Sam when you turn to him, "Asshole."

"That wasn't cool, man." Colby shakes his head at Sam and you look up at Colby, "You can laugh." He fights it, and shakes his head, "No.. no.. it's alright."

You roll your eyes and make your way back to the couch, turning on a YouTube video about the manor, "Let's learn all we can shall we?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You don't even know when you fell asleep, you just know that when you woke up, you weren't alone. You look up at a still sleeping Colby, smiling slightly as you listen to him snore softly.

Your attention is ripped away when you hear Sam coming down the steps carrying his backpack, "Mornin' sleepy heads.. or head.. I'll let you wake the beast."

You smirk and shake your head, looking back at Colby, staring at him for a few seconds before tapping his chest, "Hey, Colbs."

He doesn't budge so you tap harder and lean in, "Colby." He jumps slightly and looks at you with an immediate smile taking over his face, "oh hey." He stretches his arm slightly, "What time is it?"

You tilt your head back, "Sam what time is it?"

"Almost time to leave."

"That doesn't give me a-"

"It's nine." He smirks when you look at him, raising his eyebrows as he motions to you and Colby, making a heart with his hands. You wave him off and look back at Colby, "It's nine."

He sighs and sits up, "Okay. So we have an hour until Sam wants to leave."

"You know me so well." Sam says walking over and grabbing stuff off the coffee table. You tilt your head, "More like you drilled it into our heads repeatedly last night."

He mocks you before sighing, "Do you have to fight me on everything?"

You stand up and stretch, "Would I be one of your friend if I didn't?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After getting everything around, you finally make your way to the car.

"I figured we could film the intro once we got there?" Sam says playing around with the camera. Colby nods, "Works for me."

You lean back in the seat, clicking on the message Colby sent you before they came downstairs last night, I really didn't expect you to be awake so this is awkward, but you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, right? And I don't just mean that with the ghost hunting.

You smile to yourself, but snap out of it when Sam starts talking and you know he's recording, "We are on our way to Hellriegel Manor, we just left a little bit ago so we should be there in like two hours or so. How are you guys feeling?"

He turns the camera to Colby, "Colby. How are we feeling, buddy?"

Colby shrugs and laughs, "I am ready to try and get answers on whether this is truly a demon or not."

Sam turns the camera back to you, "Y/n. You shaking in your boots back there?"

"No but I will be once we hit that final stretch towards it." You laugh, "I'm excited."

Sam turns the camera around so it's on all of you, "We will keep you guys updated along the way. So far it'll be driving but you guys, luckily get to skip that part." He cuts the camera off and you can't help but laugh.

"What?" Sam asks turning and Colby laughs with you, "I'm laughing because she's laughing."

You sigh, "I don't even know why I'm laughing. I think I'm nervous now."

"Well, we can drop you off here. It's not a long walk back." Sam teases and you know he can feel your glare through the back of his seat, Colby's too.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." Sam laughs and it's pretty much just joking back and forth the whole way there because let's face it, you were scared to go there and you were all worried about each other.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sam clicks the camera on as you drive through the rusted old gate, "We have arrived at our destination." He points the camera to Colby and he gives a big smile as he laughs, "I think I just shit my pants. This place is fucking creepy even in the day time, man." He leans forward, looking at the huge, visibly old house.

"Look at those pillars." Sam says with a sigh, "I have a feeling we underestimated this guys."

You nod, "Mhm." Sam puts the camera on you as Colby parks the car and you purse your lips together, "I just got cold."

Both of them turn back to look at you, "Really?" Colby asks and looks at Sam, "That's not good."

Sam turns the camera around and makes a face, "We literally just pulled up and already one of us is feeling something. If that doesn't say anything about this place.."

"You guys didn't feel that? I mean maybe it was a freak thing, but as soon as we went through the gate, I felt something and then the closer we got to the house I got a chill."

"Wow." Sam is shocked, "Alright, well on that note, we'll see you guys in a second." He ends it and turns back to you, "Are you good?"

You nod, "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Colby looks back at you, giving you an are you actually look and you nod again, "Let's go."

As you get out of the car, Sam starts rolling again, "Alright guys, we are here at the Hellriegel Manor." He shows the old building, "This place is just.. I don't know."

"I'll tell you what it is, insane." Colby says while straining his voice as he leans into the camera.

You knew tonight wasn't going to be a good night, for you at least. You have continuously felt energy since the moment you crossed through the gate, and some of it wasn't good.

"Y/n?" Colby says walking over to you, "You good? You just like zoned out for a minute there."

You blink a few times and look up at him, "We might not be spending the whole night here."

Sam moves up to you, "Really? Why do you-"

"Something just moved in that very top-right window." You point and Sam moves the camera up to it, "Shit, are you serious? Colby did you see that?"

Colby shakes his head, "Shit. No."

"You Sam and Colby?" An older guy who's followed by two more guys, yells out.

"Hey, yes sir.." Colby says walking over and you and Sam follow him, "I'm Colby, this is Sam, and y/n."

You all shake hands and the guy sighs, "I'm Dean, these are my two sons, Riley and Luke. What all have you heard about this place?"

"Callum Hellreigel is a big name attached to this place, right? He was the one who caused all of the prostitutes to go missing?" Sam asks as he hands the camera to Colby.

Dean nods, "Yeah, in or around 1927, it was rumored that the reason he was killing these women, was for sacrifices, but people who have worked in the house swore up and down he didn't but who knows.." as Dean goes on explaining more about the manor, you suddenly feel a wave of dizziness was over you and you close your eye.

"No shit." Colby nods, "Do you know why he was doing that or .. anything?"

"Whoa. Hey, y/n." Sam moves to your other side and taps your arm, "You with us?"

You slowly open your eyes, "He doesn't like us talking about him." You can tell everyone around you tenses, "Sam once you said his name, I got dizzy."

"He likes you." Dean says wagging his finger at you, "He always likes the pretty ones."

Colby shifts towards you and you look over at him. He hands the camera to Sam and looks back up at Dean who sighs, "You might have the best of luck tonight, y/n."

"Great." You laugh slightly, "We also heard that it's hit or miss with how good or bad it can be."

Dean nods, "Oh yeah. Very much so. We've had people come in who didn't get anything but a few knocks and we've had people who were so overwhelmed within two hours they had to leave."

"That's crazy, dude." Sam says and looks at you and Colby. Colby shakes his head and laughs slightly, "Well we mean no harm, we just want to try and figure out if those old news articles were right."

"There's another figure in the window." You point to the same window and they all look up but it disappears.

"Are you talking about the far window on the right?" Dean slowly turns towards you and you nod, "Mhm."

He nods, "That's where his room is."

"Am I seeing him?" Your heart starts to race and Dean shrugs, "Very well could be." He nods towards the house, "Come on, we'll give you the tour."

"Are you okay?" Colby asks holding onto your arm. You nod, "This is going to be a very good video for you guys.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"You know. During the day it's not as scary." Sam says with a nervous laugh, "Right?"

One of Dean's sons laughs, "Wait for sundown."

"I don't wanna wait for sun down.. sun please stay up." Sam laughs along with the rest of you.

"Now this room is the room where he held about five woman at a time. They'd come in here and basically wait for their turn with Callum." Dean opens the door and you guys walk into a small room, "There was always a guard, or whatever you want to call them, in here with them at all times."

"Oh wow." You shake your head, "This is.." you look around, "They were scared." Right after you say that, there's a thud and you all look towards the door.

"that sounded like it came from downstairs." Sam whispers, and soon after there's another thud, but closer. Colby walks over and looks, "There's no one out here dude. That was so loud, though."

"I'd say they were more than scared, sweetheart." Dean walks over and lifts up the loose wallpaper, revealing names that were scratched into the wall behind it, "Even the guards would mistreat the women who were held here."

"And he never got caught? How many years did he do this for?" Colby asks slightly confused, "like no one ever thought of check on the missing women from the town that's right down over the hill?" He laughs and looks at Sam who nods, "Right like you'd think that."

As they talk, you think for few moments quietly before tilting your head, "When we walk in, I could have swore I heard a whisper and now that I see this.." you walk over and bend down, "It was definitely Izzie."

"No fucking way." Sam says and walks over, showing the wall to the camera, "so like right when you walked in it was like bam someone whispering Izzie?"

You stand up and look at him, "I swear to god. I thought maybe I brushed against something like my jacket did.." you scratch your jacket off the wall, "but no. It was clearly a whisper."

"Oh my god." Colby says dragging it out slightly, "This is crazy."

"There's two more rooms you need to see, one of them being the basement." Dean motions for you guys to follow him and you make your way to the master bedroom.

"So this is where he stayed most of the time?" Sam asks, "With these prostitutes or whatever?"

Dean nods, "Yep, yeah he basically lived in here and right.." he pauses and walks over to the window and points on the ground, "..over here. Is where he shot himself."

"So wait.." you point to the window and walk over, looking out with a gasp, "oh my god." You look out at the spot you stood in when you seen the apparition in the window.

"Correct." Dean says and turns, "He would bring the women in here one at a time, do what he promised them lots of money to do and then they'd just never leave."

"That's dark, man. Sad too." Colby frowns and shakes his head. Dean nods, "So the other girls caught on pretty quick as to what was happening."

"I can't imagine the fear that was brought onto them as they waited to just die basically." Sam looks around amd Dean points to you, "If you want to try contacting him. You'll probably have the best luck. Lay on the bed if you feel brave enough."

Your heart sinks, "Oh shit, I don't think-" you look at the door quickly, but whatever was there vanishes, "the door way. Someone is watching us."

You walk over, looking out but nothing else is there. You turn back towards them, camera on you, "It's really cold right here."

"You're the first to honestly say they saw something in this room." Dean says and you raise your eyebrows, "Really?"

"Does he move around a lot or does he mainly stay in this room?" Colby asks but jumps when there's footsteps in the hallway. You lean back and shake your head, "Nothing."

"I've had people come in and say there's many, many spirits here." Dean points, "but the one I get feedback on most on the time is the basement. Lots say it's the worst, and I'll show you why." He motions for you to follow him.

Sam cuts the camera off, "I think you may be right, y/n." You walk with him and Colby as you follow the others, "We definitely underestimated this place." You look between them and walks down the steps.

As you approach the slightly skinny basement door, Sam starts recording as Dean turns to you, "You might not like it down here." He looks the door and he reveals a, very unsettling, dark stair well.

You turn and give the camera a fake crying face, "Oh no."

"There are no lights, we did put lights in, but they must not like them, so you have to use flashlights so be careful coming down." Dean says and everyone pulls their phones out and switches the flash on.

Dean and his sons go down first and you and the boys follow, "Hold on, I just want to see how dark it is." Sam switches off the light and everyone covers their lights, "Oh fucking hell."

You immediately grab onto Colby's jacket and his hand immediately goes to the side of your leg, both keeping a hold of each other until Sam turns the light back on. Colby laughs, "that's the, you can't see your hand in front of your face dark."

"Now, keep that in mind because down here.." Dean pauses, "They only had candles for light down here I'm pretty sure.."

You reach the bottom and your heart feels like it's working overtime. You feel dizzy, grabbing onto the first thing you could, Colby's arm, to not fall back.

"Whoa." He wraps an arm around your waist and you nod, "Dean.. let me tell you something.." you laugh slightly and point at him.

He nods, "You don't like it down here do you?" You shake your head, "Not at all." Your eyes scan over what you can see of the old jail cells.

You felt pain and sadness, and just flat out awful.

"Down here, they kept at least twenty more women at a time, five to a cell." Riley points, "Right above the last cell over there, is where the five upstairs were, so that cell you could hear almost everything, because there's a vent, for whatever reason."

"Did they make that vent so they could hear the screams and shit on purpose or?" Sam asks looking over towards the cell.

Dean nods, "I mean, it's very possible because it's literally just a straight shot, so. I wouldn't have put it past him, he was-"

A bottle rolls down the steps and you close your eyes, "No, no, no." You laugh nervously, "There's no fucking way."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Sam turns to Colby, "We didn't even start the investigation yet and a fucking bottle.. rolls down the steps?"

Colby's eyes are wide and his mouth is open, "Did you catch that?" Sam nods, "then sound and then maybe the end of it coming down." He sighs, "Oh what the hell did we get ourselves into?"

"I don't know but I'm scared." You admit, "This isn't going to be easy." You say into the camera and Colby crosses his arms, "What would they do down here exactly? To these women that were just held here waiting?"

Dean shrugs, "All of it.. and right over there around the wall of the stairs." He points and walks you guys over, "He had the women who, in the words of what I read and was told, couldn't please him like he wanted, tortured for hours on hours I guess."

"What did they do with the bodies? Do you know if they buried them or.." Sam asks and Dean shifts around slightly, "I just got a chill, but um.."

"Wait you just got a chill?" Colby steps forward, "It doesn't feel any different to me so that's creepy."

Dean chuckles, "Yeah, so anyway.. it was rumored they tried to cremate them theirselves, but I don't think it worked out, but when we were trying to clear some stuff out around the house, there was a well that was discovered and it had human bones in it, but no one really knows what happened to them they just vanished one day and no one asked questions."

"So there is a lot of pent up negative energy surrounding this manor." One of the guys says, but you're not focused on who. You shake your head, "Some just want to be free." You look at Sam and Colby, "Something is keeping them here and I think I know who it is."

"Oh god." Sam yells and jumps forward, spinning around really quick, "Something just grabbed my shoulder, swear to god."

"You good, man?" Colby walks up to him, and Sam nods, "Yes, yes. That just scared the shit out of me. Like I was just standing here and it felt like someone did this to me. But lightly." He demonstrates by grabbing Colby's shoulder.

"That may happen a lot more when we leave." Dean says and motions with his light to go back up.

Once you make it back outside, he turns towards the house, "Just keep reminding them why you are here and that you're the ones in control."

"Will that actually work?" Sam looks at Dean and he nods, "It'll definitely work for him." He points to Colby and you smile as you remember someone else telling Colby he's intimidating.

"I have been told that I intimidate spirits so.. that's my house now." He makes his voice strained, "No, im kidding. He laughs and Dean shakes his head, "No that's exactly it. Show you're in control and you should be fine."

"Should be, that's not too selling there, Dean." Sam says and looks at Colby. He shrugs, "I mean, it works for me."

"Well, good luck and if you're still here, I'll see you in the morning."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After getting the equipment from the car and talking for a little bit, it's almost dark so the three of you agree it's best to just start since you were already getting so much activity already.

"You good?" Colby asks as he sets up some stuff, getting it ready. You look up, "Yeah." You let out breathy laugh, "I'm nervous, but otherwise good."

"Oh shit." You hear Sam yell from outside, "No fucking way." You and Colby look at each other and run out, "What? what?" Colby asks going over to him.

You follow behind and he points, "I think I saw what you saw earlier, y/n. I turned the camera on but by the time I looked up, it was gone."

"Yeah, like it only wants you to see it, if it lets you." You run your hands over your face, "Okay so I think we should try and get something before we're basically chased out of here."

You come to regret saying those words, later on.

"Okay, yeah. So the living room area? See if we can get in touch with someone who worked here?" Colby says and Sam nods, "Let's do it."

As you walk up to the door, you turn around and look at Colby, "Did you just whistle?" He shakes his head, "No that wasn't me, was it you?" He points to Sam and he shakes his head, "No."

"There's a light whistle, but it sounded like it was right behind me." You close your eyes and shake your head, "Oh god."

"It's alright. Come on." Colby leads you into the living area and you stand over to the coffee table and set down the EMF, waiting for Sam and Colby to come in.

"Okay. Ill put a flashlight on the mantle here and-"

A loud knock cuts Sam off, "Did you hear that?" His eyes move between you and Colby and you both nod. He lets out a sigh, "Alright."

He starts rolling, "So we are here in the living room area of the Hellriegel Manor, and we've been hearing knocks.."

"A bottle rolled down the basement stairs, this place is absolutely insane already, but now we're here and we're going to start by asking some simple questions." Colby takes the camera from Sam so he can lay a flashlight on the mantle like he said, "We have just a regular flashlight here and then we have the EMF over there by y/n."

You switch it on and move away from it, "Do you want me to start?"

Immediately both the flashlight and the EMF lights up green. Sam and Colby both yell out, "Oh fuck dude."

You freeze, "Um. Okay. My name is y/n. I come with peace and just wanting to find out the truth about what happened here. Is there just one of you talking to us right now?"

You wait a few moments and as soon as you look at Colby it lights up red and the flashlight switches off.

Your eyes go wide as you look at Sam. His eyes search the floor as he thinks, "My name is Sam, I too come with peace, I just want to ask, are you trapped here?"

Colby moves the camera from the EMF to the flashlight, "Y/n. Repeat what Sam asked."

"Are you trapped here?" You ask and it's an immediate green light, no flashlight, "Am I speaking to one person now?"

Red light. Flashlight turns on making all of you gasp and yell. Colby shakes his head, "Dean was right, they must be drawn to her more than us."

Switches green and the flashlight stays on.

"That wasn't even a ques-" something falling from a shelf makes you jump and you bolt in between them, "Oh Jesus Christ."

"I'm Colby. I also come with peace. Was that you that just knocked that stuff over?" A few moments go by and nothing.

"If that was you, can you do it again, please?" You grip Colby's arm, "the hairs on the back of my neck just stood up." He looks down at you, "really?" You nod and Sam brings his hand up behind you, "It's literally only cold right here."

Suddenly you're pushed away from Colby, not hard, but enough to make you lean back.

"Did you just get pushed?" Colby asks, "You pulled me with you tha-"

What sounds like empty tin cans, hit the floor and roll, stopping in the entry way of the living room.

"Thank you." You say, "Am I speaking to the original owner of this house?" You let go of Colby and walk over to the doorway.

"Y/n, stay close please. This house is too un-" Colby gets cut off by the EMF lighting up red.

"Are you saying no to y/n's question?" Sam asks quickly and it flashes red. Your eyes go wide and you make your way back over to them, "Do you want me to stay close to Sam and Colby?"

Flashes red and the flash light turns on.

"Fuck me." You lay a hand on your face and the emf lifts up green.

"No." Colby says almost immediately, "You can't have her."

Flashes green and the flash light stays on.

You look at them, "I have to ask if it's him."

Flashes green again and the flash light goes off.

"Dude this is fucking wild, oh my god." Sam runs a hand through his hair, "Are you okay?" He looks at you and you nod, "Yeah, I'm good."

"I have a very important question for you." You move over and sit in the one chair, "Am I speaking to Callum Hellreigel?"

Lights up red and you feel kind of relieved until you see a shadow move on the stairs, "Fuck, the stairs. Something just went up."

"Are you going upstairs?" Colby asks and waits patiently. The EMF goes off and it's red, "Are you one of the women who were lured here and promised money?"

Lights up green.

"Is anyone else with you?" Sam asks and rests his hand against his chin.

Lights up green.

Just as Colby is getting ready to ask something you stand up, "Something just.." you point up and shake your head, "I just heard come on. Like something said come on."

"Is that you Callum? Are you trying to lure y/n up stairs?" Colby hands the camera back to Sam and looks over at you, no response.

"Okay, so they definitely move around." Sam sighs, "Fuck man. Y/n. How are you feeling?" You look over at them slowly, "Oh I'm great." You stand up, "Maybe we should move.."

"Where to next?" Sam asks and you walk over to them, "Upstairs. I don't think he killed himself."

They're both taken aback by what you said and Colby shakes his head, "Do you feel something towards that?"

You nod, "I have this.. uneasy feeling in my stomach and I get chills thinking about it. I don't think he shot himself."

The EMF reader lights up green and you jump slightly, "Fuck." Sam looks around, "Did you kill your self Callum?"

Nothing.

Colby repeats Sam's question exactly, nothing.

They both look at you, along with the camera and you take a deep breath and shake your head, "get the spirit box."

Sam stops recording, "That's a good idea. Where do you want to set up?"

Colby walks over to you and lays his hands on your arms, "You good to keep going?" You nod, "Yeah I need to find out what happened, I'm nosey." You laugh slightly and lean around to look at Sam, "Maybe top of the steps?"

He nods and you grab the equipment and look at the steps. Your eyes move up and down, getting a weird feeling about it, "Wait." You stop Sam and point to the floor at the bottom of the steps.

Colby starts recording and Sam sets it down, "let me just turn it on." He turns it on and a soft white noise fills the area.

Sam motions to you and you bite your lip, debating on which question to ask.

".. Up .."

"Yo, no." Sam covers his mouth and Colby laughs nervously, "No fucking way."

"Do you want us to go up the stairs?" You ask and chew on your nail.

".. Wall .. name.."

"Are you asking about the names on the wall in the room where the women were held?" Colby asks, "Did you whisper Izzie to y/n when we went in there earlier?"

A soft, 'y/n' is whispered behind you and you let out a slight yell, "Fuck, no. Someone just said my name."

"..Yes.."

"Callum was that you?" You close your eyes and shake it, letting out quiet, high toned "oh shit."

"Bed."

"Do you want us to go to the bedroom? Callum's room?" Colby asks rubbing his eyebrow and pulls you to him when you all clear as day hear,

"Just... her.."

"You can't have her." Sam says looking around, "You can't have any one anymore, do you hear me?"

".. Blood.. shed .."

"Doesn't mean blood shed, like bleeding or?" Colby asks Sam and he shakes his head, "I don't know, man."

"So scared."

"I know you're scared." You say and nothing else comes through.

"Why do you want y/n?" Colby asks moving the camera around, "Are you scared of us? I promise we mean no harm to any of you."

".. Pretty... girl .."

"do you guys feel okay?" You fan yourself, "I just got really hot all of a sudden." Colby hands the camera to Sam and feels your forehead, "You feel cold to me."

You're suddenly pushed backwards away from Colby's touch, "Fuck." He says pulling you over to Sam. He turns from recording the stairs, "What happened? What?"

Colby sighs, "She just got pushed again, dude."

"Maybe we should just go up." You close your eyes as Colby instantly disagrees, "Mm. No."

Sam cuts the camera off, "Colby. If she thinks she can-"

"We don't know what we're dealing with here, Sam. I'm not going to send her into a room alone." Colby argues.

".. Stop .."

"Stop what?" You ask and Sam turns the camera on, "So.. Colby felt y/n's head because she said she was hot and when he did that, y/n got pu-" a loud thud is heard from up stairs and Sam quickly turns the spirit box off and turns the camera to you guys, "Did you hear that?"

You nod, "Almost like.. a body falling onto the floor."

"That's what I was thinking." Coby says nodding.

Sam waits a few seconds more before picking up where he left off in a whisper, "So basically, whatever is here doesn't like us being close to y/n."

"Dean did say that she might be the target for tonight, just because of all the history with this place." Colby says.

"I think we should just do it because it's either his room or the basement and I'll tell you right now I'm not ready to go back down there yet." You chew on your cheek, "So let's just go up there and hit those rooms up there."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

There was a sudden decrease in activity in the other rooms but it quickly picked up when you moved back towards the bedroom.

"I think we should put the REM pod where Dean said he was shot." Sam suggests and you nod, "Yeah. That's good."

You have this feelings that something is watching you, and no it's not just Colby.

"Sam." Colby says, "You don't think.."

Sam stands up after checking the pod, "What?" Colby nods towards me, lowing his voice, "You don't think he's.. targeting her because of me do you?"

Sam glances at you and shrugs, "So you're admitting to liking her then?"

Colby sighs, "Yes, Sam. I'm admitting to it finally." He smiles but shakes his head, "That's not the point, how are we going to do this without any danger coming to her?"

"Why don't we just ask him?" You step forward, "You can be right outside the door."

Colby shakes his head, "No."

There's a loud bang and you jump, "Colbs. I got this. If anything happens, you'll be right outside." Sam starts rolling the camera, "So we are now in the room where Callum supposedly shot himself and y/n has decided to lay in Callum Hellreigel's very own bed. Alone."

Sam turns the camera to you, "How are you feeling?" You take a deep breath, "it is what it is right?" You shrug, but Colby didn't like that answer.

"I'll be fine." You hold two thumbs up and Sam points the camera at Colby, "Wanna tell them what we're doing?"

Colby clears his throat as he holds up the EMF, "We are going to set up y/n with the EMF as well, and she'll ask yes or no questions and hopefully we can get some answers.."

"Then we'll come back in after a little while and set up the spirit box, maybe catch something on that? I don't know how you guys feel about that.." Sam trails off and you nod, "Sounds good."

Colby's whole demeanor changed since you said you'll stay in the room by yourself. You keep looking at him, and he looks at you, but he has worry in his eyes.

"Alight so we're just going to put this in the corner here.." Sam says as he sets up the camera on the one stand, angled towards the bed and window.

Colby walks up to you, cupping your cheeks, "Anything, and I mean anything happens, yell, scream and we'll be here."

You nod, laying a hand on his, "I can handle this." You jump and Sam yells as something falls outside of the room, "What the fuck. That sounded like something massive."

"Shit." Colby says taking his hands away, "Sorry. Sorry." He holds his hands up and steps back from you. Your eyes move around the room as you make your way over to the bed, sitting criss cross, "See you soon."

"You're sure?" Sam asks one last time. You take a deep breath, "Yes." Colby's eyes are on you until Sam fully shuts the door, leaving you in the darkened silence, alone.

"Callum Hellriegel." You call out, "If you're here, can you go over and touch that little box that's on the floor for me?"

The red light flashes, indicating no on the EMF.

"Am I talking to someone else?" Your eyes scan around the room, taking slow deep breathes as you try to get used to the dark, no answer, "I should’ve stayed home." You joke quietly to yourself,  "Is this where you wanted me?"

Instant green light.

You chew on your cheek as a chill washes over your body, "Fuck." You rest your hands on your head, "Did you kill all those women, Callum?"

Instant green light and the REM pod goes off.

"Did you kill them because they couldn't please you?" You rest your hand on your cheek and jump slightly when the EMF goes red.

"Did you kill them beca-" The EMF flashes red over and over again, "Stop!" You say loudly and it's soon followed by a loud bang on the window.

"Holy fuck." You sigh and place a hand on your chest, "Do you want us to bring the spirit box in so you can talk?"

Instant green light.

"Callum Hellreigel.. did you kill your self?" Your eyes move from the REM pod to the EMF, waiting for something, "Did someone else do it?"

Instant green light.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Okay, okay. Was it someone who worked for you?"

Instant red light.

"Was it one of the prostitutes?"

Instant green light.

"Is there anyone else here?"

Instant green light and you suddenly feel like you're being choked. You try to yell out as loud as you can, "C-Colby!" You feel the pressure on your neck vanish and you start coughing as soon as the boys bust through the door.

Colby is right next to you, "What? What? Y/n. Talk to me."

You're gasping for air still as you try to comprehend what just happened.

Sam brings the camera over, almost dropping it when he sees the finger marks on your neck.

"Holy fuck- Colby." Sam moves your hair to show the camera, "Oh my god. Are you okay? Oh fuck."

Colby's eyes are glued to your neck, "Can you breathe? Are you okay?"

"I-I.." you clear your throat, rubbing your hand over the prints, "I believe.. I was talking to Callum, and then I asked if anyone else was here and it went to yes and then i just suddenly felt like I was being choked."

"What the fuck, okay let's just get out of this room, I don't.." Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I don't like this."

As you're gathering the equipment and getting ready to walk out, you're pushed into Sam causing him to stumble a step forward, "That wasn't me." You say quickly as he turns around, "are you okay?"

Colby shuts the door with a slam and sighs, "This is fucking insane.. I can't believe this happened."

"Did you hear that?" You look down the steps, "Something just moved into the living room."

Sam points the camera, the light shining down and there's nothing there, "What the fuck, what the fuck?!"

"Shh. Shh." You shush Sam and look around, "I thought I heard whispering."

Colby lays a hand on your back, "Let's go outside, talk about what happened and then we can figure out what we wanna do."

Colby was just worried about getting you out without anymore damage.

You make your way outside, camera still rolling, bending down to the ground, "Oh my god."

"Okay. So y/n.. she got attacked basically and we're trying to figure out why. She's okay. She's okay.. it's just.. " Sam keeps the camera off of you until you stand back up, "Fuck."

"So." You walk over to them, using your hand to hide your neck from the camera, "As soon as you guys left, it was.. weird, it was fucking weird." You laugh slightly and shake your head, "I asked if it was him. Said no. Then I asked if it was someone else, no answer and then I asked if I was where they wanted me and that was an instant green light."

"What if.. what if it's not Callum?" Colby looks between you and Sam and Sam gasps, "One of the women?"

You hold your hand up, "Oh just wait. So then I asked if he killed all those women. Instant green light. I then asked if it was because they couldn't please him and it said no."

"Wait, y/n.. Did you tell stop at one point?" Sam asks and you nod, "The red light kept flashing over and over, so then I told it to stop and then it sounded like something hit the window. Hard. It was loud."

"Wait what?" Colby looks to Sam, "Did you hear anything?" Sam shakes his head, "I thought I heard her yell stop but it was much quieter than she says she yelled."

"Do you think.. wait.." Colby looks at you, "Izzie. That's what was whispered to you right?" You nod and he shrugs, "What if she killed him?"

"That's actually something that very well could have happened.. He favorited her maybe and she developed this jealously? Oh my god, the story just keeps unraveling." Sam points the camera back to you and you continue, "I asked if they wanted us to bring the sprit box in and it said yes. It also said yes to me asking if someone else killed him.." you look between them, "..and to if it was one of the prositutes."

"Yo, no. Are you fucking serious!?" Sam's mouth drops, "Is said yes to that?"

You nod, "Sure did."

"Izzie probably is intimidated by you." Colby says, "I think we have this all wrong." You run your hand over your head, "Mhm. But it was like not even a second after the light went green I felt this pressure around my neck and I couldn't move. I wasn't even sure if you guys heard me calling."

"I heard you scream Colby, a lot louder than when you yelled stop." Sam shakes his head, "If I would have known we would have came in.." he looks at Colby, "They said about the spirit box.."

Colby shakes his head and looks at you as Sam moves the camera onto you, "I think we should just take a break, give them time to settle, if they will." You suggest and Sam nods, "That's a good idea."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The whole time you guys took a break, Colby hasn't left your side as you guys discussed and agreed on what you were doing.

He found himself glancing at your neck every so often, wondering if him putting up more of a fight would have kept you safe.

"Colby.." you whisper, "Colbs." You finally get his attention, "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Not your fault. I chose to go in there." You lay a hand on his cheek, "Okay?"

He nods, not really convincing you but you go with it as Sam walks over, "Are you ready?" He looks at you and you nod, taking Colby's hand in yours, "Yeah. We're ready."

"Anything else happens and I'm throwing you over my shoulder and taking you out of there myself." He whispers low into your ear as sam walks towards the house.

You smile slightly, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

He keeps his arm around you until you reach the front door. He walks in but you stop, staring up the steps, "Sam. Don't move."

Colby looks between you, Sam and the steps, "What?" He whispers quietly and you point slightly, "There's a woman.." you raise your voice, "Izzie?"

The figure you see turns from the top of the steps and goes into Callum's room.

"We need to do the spirit box."

You make your way up to the room and Colby walks in first. Then you, then Sam. The REM pod gets put on the floor, and turned on. Sam backs away from it and you take a deep breath.

"We mean no harm to anyone that is here." You say and look around, "Izzie. If you were the one that choked me, can you touch that box on the floor over by the window?"

You close your eyes as soon as it lights up.

"Fucking shit dude." Sam says pointing the camera to you. You open your eyes and step towards the bed, "Did you get jealous of the other girls? Make that light up for me if you were."

You look over at Sam and Colby, who are whispering stuff to each other, and back to the pod as it lights up.

"one more time if you want us to turn on the spirit box." You run a hand through your hair and turn back to them as it lights up a few times in a row.

Colby takes the camera and Sam grabs the box, walking over and setting it on the window sill, "You will be able to talk to us using this box here."

Colby moves over closer to you and Sam and as soon as Sam flips it on, "Why did you choke y/n?"

".. doesn't... belong.."

"She doesn't belong here in general or doesn't belong to Callum?" Colby continues and you chew on your nail as you wait patiently.

".. not.. his..."

"Can you tell us who isn't his? Are you talking about Callum?" Sam interjects, "Y/n doesn't belong to Callum."

"..Mine.. my doing.."

"Are we talking to Izzie or Callum?" You rest your hand on your cheek, "Can you please tell me who we are talking to?"

".. Colby.." 

"What the hell?" Colby groans and laughs slightly, "Can you tell me who I'm talking to?" He asks giving the camera to Sam, "I'm right here."

".. not.. yours.."

You look at Sam then go to Colby.

"..out.. out.. Izzie.."

"Did you kill Callum, Izzie?" Sam asks, "Was it you who shot him in front of the window?"

" .. y/n.. stay .."

You let out a quick scream as something grabs your arm, "No. I'm not staying. You cannot have me." The same bang on the window that happened while you were alone, happens again.

Colby aims the camera to the window, "fuck, what was th-"

".. keep her safe .."

"We are keeping her safe." Colby says as he pulls you in between him and Sam, "Do not touch her. Do not touch us."

You look around, "Shit." You jump, "Izzie. Leave."

" .. Sam .. "

"Okay no. No that's.. no.." Sam laughs nervously, "Do you want us to leave?"

" .. Colby ... and Sam .. "

"Alright we're done." Colby hands the camera back to Sam and turns off the box, "I don't think Callum is a demon. I think Izzie has some jealousy to figure out and she won't be doing that with you." He looks at you and you nod, "Fine."

"That was fucking insane, dude. What the actual fuck was that?" Sam shakes his head, unable to comprehend what just happened.

You hear another whisper as you turn towards the door, "did you hear that?" Sam and Colby stop talking and go quiet as they listen.

You turn towards them, "Please don't go is what I just heard.."

"We're going." Sam and Colby say in unison which makes you all kinda laugh, fear still in overdrive. You spin in a slow circle, "Whatever is in this room, this house, who ever you are, you cannot follow us out of this house. You cannot follow us home. You can not come with us."

As Sam bends down to pick up the REM, Colby lays his hand on your back but you wince and gasp, "What the fuck?"

"What?" Colby asks looking over you, "What happened?"

"Lift my shirt." You turn back around and Sam comes over with the camera, the light on top shining onto your back.

Colby slides your shirt up, "We're done. That's two fucking scratches l, Sam." He looks at Sam and you turn around, "Two?!"

As soon as you stand all the way up, you get dizzy and stumble back slightly into the wall. You suddenly feel like your emotions aren't yours anymore and you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Flashes of a woman in a long dress and a man undressing her appear in your mind. 

She's screaming. Crying. There's two more guys, but they're standing in the corners, watching it happen.

You feel like you're seeing someone else's vision until everything goes black and you start to regain the imagine of Colby and Sam standing in front of you.

"Y/n.. hey." You hear Colby say as he shakes you gently, "Y/n. Hey where'd you go?"

Your head snaps up to him, "What?" You look around, shaking your head, "I don't.. what just.."

"You weren't you." Sam says, "You went back into the wall and then you were in a stare, Colby tried for like two minutes to get you to look up."

"We.." your chest rises and falls quickly, "I'm so scared right now." A loud thump on the wall behind you rattles the room and you high tail it out of there.

Down the steps and out the door as Sam and Colby follow you.

"Y/n. Hey, hey wait." Colby yells, "Y/n." He walks up to you and takes you into his arms. You freak out for a second until you realize it's him and you let your body fall into his.

"Is she okay?" Sam asks running up, "What the fuck just happened?"

Colby shrugs, "I have no idea. But I see why they don't just let anyone in here."

He looks down at you, arms still tightly around you, "Hey. You're okay. I got you." You tilt your head up, slowly looking back at the building.

You let out a slight laugh, "Did I.. just.. did I just get possessed or something?"

They're both looking at you worried, "I saw a woman.. screaming as a man was taking off her dress and two other men in the corners were watching.. I don't.. was that.."

"We don't have an answer for that, but what I do know is that we're getting far from this place as possible." Colby lets you go as you stand up straight.

You look at Colby and point your finger at him, "Remember what I said to you last night, about us probably having been through worse?"

Colby nods as his hands move up and down your arm.

"Well, this is worse." You laugh anxiously, tears welling up into your eyes again, "What the fuck was that?"

"We're going home. It's okay." Colby wraps his arms around you, "Sam, can you drive home?" Sam yells out a quick 'yeah' as he packs the trunk back up.

"Come on. We're going home."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thinking of maybe doing a part 2? Not sure yet, maybe like the aftermath of the Hellriegel Manor?

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

Hiii! could you maybe write a Grayson x reader fic with a reader who doesn’t feel she is lovable cos her parents were abusive and taught her that?

hi!! thanks for your request, I realise it’s taken me a while to get around to writing it, so very sorry about that. It was a little dark but I’ll gave it a go. pre-warning I’ve never written anything like this before, so if it’s inaccurate or insensitive, I’m very sorry.

title: never good enough

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: a make out session brings back some unwanted memories that you’re forced to face

warnings: really heated make-out session, suggestive themes (but nothing bad bad), lots of past trauma, swearing, panic attack, abusive parents

a/n: if any of the warnings trigger you, please do not read on, I don’t want to be responsible for someone else’s pain!! I’d feel so guilty!!

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

I like the way he tastes and the feel of his lips on mine. It’s not something I see myself getting bored of. It feels nice. But what feels nicer is the feeling of someone desiring you, someone wanting you, maybe even needing you. The feeling that someone chose you for a reason, because you matter to them. I like that feeling the best.

With each kiss I imagine that he actually feels something for me. It’s easier to play pretend. If you play pretend for long enough it can start to feel like reality. Growing up, I used to create things in my head all the time. Fictitious fantasies to fill in my empty voids of emotion. I suppose the habit had bled into my adult life.

He moans against my lips. The sound of pleasure indicating I’ve done something right, something he enjoys. My heart swells at this symbol of approval. Why do I thrive off of approval? I shake the feeling away in another deep kiss, burying it under a mound of other things I was ignoring. If I can’t see them they’re not there, if I turn my back, if I close my eyes.

These kisses are meaningless really, my brain knows it, actually it keeps attempting to remind me but I’ve gotten quite good at discarding things people say. They hurt my heart but not my head.

Grayson isn’t one to display how he feels for me publically. He’s mentioned before that he feels he doesn’t need to display how he feels to the world, he’s doesn’t care what the world thinks, he only cares what I think. It’s a beautifully designed excuse to tell me secretly that he doesn’t want to show affection in public because he doesn’t want me. I’m an embarrassment to love. I always have been.

But I don’t care. Our private moments together are bliss because I get to escape the truth and I like that. The truth is bitter like the cud, it’s harsh, it’s cruel, it’s painful. I’ve had too much of that already. So in the moments where I can I indulge so much I blind myself from it, I revel in the occasion. For the while.

His hands are firmly on my hips and I can feel the warmth of them through my clothes. They feel strong and supportive. They might be the only thing holding me together right now or it feels like it anyway. My hands are buried deep within his hair but I’m too caught up in the moment to think about it much. His kisses are quick and sweet, a little gentle. Sometimes he’d draw one or two out into longer, more passionate kisses. I didn’t care, as long as his lips were on mine, my memories would be forgotten. He begins to slide his hand up my body, tracing the curves of my bodice and up all the way until his cupping my face in his hands.

“I love you,” he pants, cheeks rosy and flushed, as we pull apart for breath, “more than you’ll ever know.”

Every time he says those words it ignites yet another fragment of my heart, that burns into ash in my chest. He’s killing me softly and I’m sure he’s enjoying it. He’s just telling me he loves me so I’ll stay with him, give him what he wants until he’s bored enough. That’s fine. I don’t mind. I know this, I’ve always known this. But getting to live in these moments, these moments laced in fierce passion and licked with flames of lust always made the harsh reality easier to swallow.

I don’t reply. Instead I kiss harder, more intensely. Maybe if I kiss with even more vigor, even more passion I can completely forget my pain. Maybe my mind will go blank and won’t be able to fill it in this time. I want the piercing sensation of white light to hit me and if it does I will let it burn me. Until my memories are incinerated and I no longer have to live with the weight of fear on my chest

He registers my sudden serge for more and begins to deliver. He matches my yearning for something deeper, something more. We’re caught up in heavy breathing, racing hearts and profuse sweating. Neither one of us cared. My hands find the hem of his shirt and I am tempted to tug down on the fabric but I don’t trust myself. My mind is too hypnotised by the sweet poison of his persuasive lips, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t make decisions like these. We’ve never gone further than kisses and I’m not sure if going further right now would make me feel better or worse. But who cares right?

No. I don’t let myself get that carried away. Not yet anyway. Even though I’ve previously been stripped of my dignity I will not be the one to do it to myself now. I take my hands away and slide them around the back of his neck.

We stop. Suddenly. And for a moment the standstill is uncomfortable. The absence of married lips is eerie almost. My mouth is tingling and I crave his taste already, it hasn’t been two seconds. It’s worse than drugs. I don’t want to stop kissing, every time we stop it opens a window for me to remember. A window I’ve been trying to avoid for far too long now.

He looks into my eyes and for a second I actually believe I’m wanted. Pools of gray, like a clear lake glistening in the moonlight. Pretty eyes, pretty face, pretty lips. But pretty doesn’t get you love. He smiles at me gently, a quiet kindness sparkles in his eyes. Sometimes I wonder how he is so perfect at forging this tenderness, how he claimed these masterful acting skills.

He trails his fingers gently down my face. It feels like he cares, the tentative manor misleading. Then suddenly I’m no longer in the apartment with Grayson. I’m back in my old house. No. I couldn’t be here. Not here. Anywhere but here. I don’t want to be back here. I escaped, I ran, I left, it was all over. I made sure it was over. I, I, I -

I’m back.

Sat on the living room sofa, that horrible itchy dull grey sofa, that appeared in my nightmares frequently. It even smells the same. The sour smell, that makes my stomach flip and my hands begin to shake. These four walls still haunt me. It looks as if they’re closing in, slowly, slowly. Like the room is getting smaller and I’m trapped. Claustrophobia seems to be my only companion.

My hands shake uncontrollably and no matter what I try and do to calm down, nothing works. I thought I was getting better, I thought I was coping well, I thought that it was going away. But this is proving otherwise.

I’m reliving a memory. A memory I’ve always wanted to forget. A memory scorched into my brain that tended to replay over and over like a relentless broken record that could never be smashed. I feel sick. I know what’s coming. No. I know who is coming.

His footsteps are an immediate giveaway and the faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air. I’m curled in a ball down, small, hiding like a helpless animal in a hole. If I curl up maybe it won’t happen. Maybe he won’t see me.

“What are you doing?”

A shiver runs down my spine. Every note in his voice is exactly how I remember it. The question echos around my head but I say nothing in reply. My words won’t form in my state of paralysis.

“Answer me girl!” my father barks. His voice venomous, dangerous.

“Nothing,” I reply quickly.

He grabs my arm, his fingers so tight around me that I’m sure that they’ll be bruises forming soon. He yanks me up as I attempt to cower backwards.

“Don’t take that tone with me you whore,” he spits in my face, the pungent wreaking of alcohol on his breath as he throws me to the floor.

I hit it with a thud. A dull aching thud. Just like the dull aching monotony of this scene that was just a part of every day life back then. I don’t move from the ground, I’ve learnt not to fight back. That only landed me in hospital last time. I lay there so still I hope he thinks I’m dead so he’ll leave me alone. He does not. He knows better. Unfortunately for me, he knows his daughter.

“You’re nothing but a piece of shit,” growls the voice that makes my blood curdle, “you hear that?”

I thought I’d left him far behind. I thought he was gone. I thought wrong. I am naive and I’m the idiot I have always been. I don’t reply again. There’s nothing to reply with. Of course I heard.

“I said, you HEAR that?” he screams it louder.

I don’t reply. Stupid mistake but he doesn’t give me time to undo it. He’s already standing over me. It had already begun.

***

He beats my body until my brittle bones long to snap. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. Those four words repeat over and over in my head. They might be the only thing keeping me conscious. No matter how much it hurts he cannot know he’s won. I refuse to hand him that victory of a silver platter, decorated in my jewels of agony.

And for a split second I wonder where my mother is and I don’t even know why. She would’ve do anything, she never did. She just stood there, emotionales, detached. Mothers are meant to protect and defend their children against anything in the world, it made me wonder why mine did not. It made me wonder if I were born to different people or maybe not born at all if things might be better off.

It’s not the time for thinking, I’m reminded. Another kick. I will not cry. A punch. I will not cry. My lip splits open. I will not cry. A twist of my left arm. I will not cry, I think my nose is broken. I will not cry.

“Stubborn little bitch won’t even shed a tear,” he snarls, bitterness so evident on his tongue I was surprised it hasn’t dissolved yet.

Yes I am stubborn. No I will not cry. Not for him. And then it happens. All over again. Beaten, bruised, battered, broken.

I can’t breathe. I’m in so much agony there’s no way I could even scream. So tears roll softly down my face as I’m curled up on the floor in defeat, desperation and humiliation. My body is nearly motionless, my limbs lay slack at my sides. I can’t help myself and no one is coming to save me. I let myself cry, broke the only promise I had to myself. I’m even betrayed my own brain for him.

I look up at him, tear streaked face. Is he happy now? Is he finally happy with me? Am I finally going to revive some sort of approval? Stupid questions to be wondering when I know exactly how this story ends.

As my eyes meet his, my father trails his fingers gently down my face. It still stings from the slap, the cells on my cheek screaming in agony. There’s the faint tinge of metallic blood in my mouth. My father trails his fingers gently down my face. Grayson trails his fingers gently down my face. My father trails his fingers gently- Grayson trails his fingers- My father trails- Grayson tr- my father Grayson my father Grayson my father Grayson my father.

SNAP.

I shiver and jerk away suddenly standing up. I try to back away as Grayson’s eyes fill with concern.

“What’s wrong,” he asks me, trying to reach out to me. I recoil at his attempt of a touch, like a frightened animal.

“I need to leave,” I barely get out, through my shallow breathing as I turn to find the door.

Where is the door? I couldn’t find the door. Breaths come in quicker and faster. Suffocating. I am suffocating. An invisible man has a plastic bag over my head and he is choking me slowly with it. I’m losing oxygen, I’m losing the things that keeps me alive.

Grayson is on his feet beside me, careful not to touch me, “did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you,” I pant, so breathless I wonder if I’m still breathing at all, “it’s all me.”

Dizziness rolls over me and I close my eyes. I feel my body sway slightly, my sense of balance robbed from me. A pair of strong hands catch my waist and pull me upright again. I try and focus my eyes but the room is spinning.

“Woah, hey,” it’s Grayson’s soft voice, “come here.”

That’s when I realise his hands are touching me. I try to pull away but can’t see where I’m going. I can’t see anything as black dots dance across my vision.

“No!” I yell, my ear beginning to ring.

“Hey, stop,” he says gently, ”sit down and take a breath.”

“No I can’t, I can’t, you don’t understand,” I hyperventilate, my chest in so much pain.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs rhythmically, extending his hand out towards me for me to take if I wanted.

I flinch away. His eyes are deep with realisation, he knows, he understands. I’ve given my secret away.

“Who hurt you?”

His voice is almost ragged, almost angry. His eyes are blazing, the soft grey hardens into cold steel. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. The words are unable to be spoken, they feel to forbidden. I don’t think I’d ever admitted my childhood out loud. I need air, fresh air. I can’t breathe. I need to breathe.

I feel like I’m drowning. Water blurring my vision, my heat pounding in my chest, my lungs screaming at me for the oxygen I cannot give them. My limbs frozen in a state of paralysis, heavy as lead, dragging me down. I can’t kick myself to the surface, I’m helplessly lost. All I can do I stare up and watch the last sight I’ll probably ever see. Sinking, sinking, sinking. I think I can feel my lungs fill up. They burn as if eager flames are licking the internal organ in pleasure. I can hear someone’s voice, it’s muffled, like there’s water in my ears. I can’t make out what they’re saying. I wonder if this person will haul my body from the water or they’ll give up on me like everyone else.

“It’s okay,” the voice is soft and sweet, it becomes clearer by the second, “don’t say anything, just focus on breathing for me, okay?”

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. I take one look into his silvery grey eyes and in this second trust him with my everything. My heart is racing and I can hear my sharp intakes of breath. I manage a small nod as he helps me back down onto the bed, propping pillows up behind my back. I’m sweating, profusely and I feel revolting. The tremor in my hands is slowing slightly as he clasps them in his.

“I need you to breathe,” he tells me, making direct eye contact.

My chest is so constricted it physically hurts. The aching only grows the more I think about it but I can’t seem to stop. Hair is stuck to the back of my neck and the side of my face. I slick it back using my own sweat.

“I… can’t…” I manage to get out in breathless gasps.

“Yes you can,” he murmurs, “look at me, focus on me.”

I do.

“Yes you can,” he repeats, his voice strong, confident full of faith. Faith for me.

I close my eyes and attempt to slow my rapid breathing. I feel his fingers around my wrist, squeezing a little to check my pulse. He is warm against my cool skin. I reach for his hand with my other one and guide it slowly to my chest. I want to feel his hand on my heart. I want him as close as possible. His hand is on me with my hand pressed firmly against it. I open my eyes and stare at him, wondering if he could read my pleading eyes as well as I could read his compassionate ones. Mellow grey stares back at me in understanding. He keeps his hand on my heart.

“Don’t let go,” I whisper, “please.”

“I’m not letting go,” he murmurs back, “don’t worry, I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

In and out. In and out. In and out. I try to calm myself. It’s not like I’ve ever faced something like this before, I’d just never faced it in someone’s presence. The fear of him seeing me in this state of vulnerability, stripped of my many masks that tell the world I am okay when I’m not, that made it all worse.

But with some time, that could’ve been two minutes of two hours, my breathing slows, becomes more regulated. Things begin to calm down. I’m no longer sweating uncontrollably though my body is still wet. My shaking hands grow stiller by the second as I fiddle with the ring on my middle finger. Finally my heart rate begins to go down. I hear it less in my ears and feel it less in my chest. But it’s still there.

Grayson’s hand has still not left my heart, just like I asked. Gently I place my hand on his, and guide it back to his lap, letting him silently know he’d done his job. I take a hair tie and throw my hair up into an abomination on my head that I’m too tired to care about.

Grayson’s features have twisted into a way that almost makes him look worried. His eyes are larger than usual, his pupils dilated, swallowing up the comforting concrete grey. His eyes brows are pinched inwards slightly, only just and his lips are parted as if he wants to ask a question but can’t find the words. I want to pretend this look is real, I want to pretend he’ll still want me even after seeing me in my state, I want to pretend that this time it’s different. But I can’t afford to pretend anymore.

“Better?” he asks quietly, after a long period of silence.

“Better,” I rasp, my voice so hoarse it’s unfamiliar to me.

I rest my head back and close my eyes. Breathing in and out normally feels like a luxury now. I’m suddenly more grateful than I’ve even been for a steady flow of air to my lungs. Once I’m completely back to normal I make eye contact with Grayson. His face is difficult to read.

“What happened back there?” he asks me quietly, almost looking guilty for the question.

“What do you mean?” I reply, confused. Hadn’t he been there, hadn’t he seen?

“Why did you start to panic,” he clarifies, “what did I do to set it off?”

I want to shoot the conversation down there and then. Absolutely not. I am not ready to tell him anything, I don’t want him to know. I don’t want him to look at me different because of it.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly, averting my eyes.

“Of course it does,” he presses further, “sweetheart I love you and-

Oh those three words. How the act as another knife to my chest every time. I love you is not meant for girls like me, I love you is meant for people who are worthy and special, I love you has never once been said to me with any true meaning behind it.

“Stop,” I snap, the word louder and harsher than I intended. It silently echoes through the empty space and takes a moment to sink in.

“What?” he asks after a few beats, confusion distorting his features.

“Just stop that,” I almost yell, as I go to get up, “stop doing that.”

“What am I doing?” he asks quickly.

“You’re lying to me,” I say, my voice wavering when I really didn’t want it to.

“What?”

“Every time you say those stupid words and I can’t afford to believe them,” I exclaim, welling up with this sudden surge of emotion.

“Slow down sweetheart,” he says slowly, “what are you talking about?”

“I know you don’t love me,” I shout. I’m exhausted. Exhausted of living this lie and now I’m at my breaking point and I can’t afford to continue. There are too many lies, in my head, in my heart, in my life. This one I want to be rid of.

“What?”

“I know it so you can stop pretending I matter, that I mean something to you,” I sob.

Great. Now I’m crying again. Again. Pouring out my weaknesses for him to see. I’ve never felt so unbelievably helpless.

“What are you talking about? Of course I love you,” he says it as of I’ve said something stupid or in gibberish.

Of course. Why of course? It isn’t obvious and I’m not an idiot. I’m stood here crying and he has the audacity to tell me this. I look him dead in the eye, my vision blurred a little due to the heaviness of my heart.

“No one can love me.” My voice is low and laced with the agony I’m so desperately trying to conceal.

“Who told you that?” he asks.

How did he know? How could he see through my mask so easily? Was it cracked, had it slipped or was it just all transparent now?

“I didn’t need to be told, it’s just how I am,” I spit back, hoping my bitterness might deter him.

“No,” Grayson replies, his voice so sharp it cut dangerously through the air like a knife.

“What?”

“No, that’s not how you are,” he says, “because I love you.”

He digs a finger into his chest in attempts to prove his point, it looks hard enough to hurt but he doesn’t wince.

“Stop saying that!” I yell over him, “it makes it more painful, every time you say it, it’s like a stab in the heart and I can’t take it anymore.”

I expect him to get angry, to stand up and hurl insults at me. We’ve never argued before. But instead his face softens. “I’m not lying,” he tells me gently, his voice like caramel, “how could I lie?”

He’s not lying? Or at least that’s what he’s telling me. But the softness of his eyes look like he means it. No. I can’t let myself be so naive, I can’t believe everything I’m told, I’ve learnt that the hard way.

“Everyone who I’ve ever trusted has lied to me, why would that make you any different?” I ask bitterly.

“Because I do love you,” he tells me, “with all of my heart. You don’t understand what you do to me. I can’t stop thinking about you, even when you’re not around, you’re the main character of all my thoughts and dreams for that matter. Not a moment goes by without a thought involving you. You are the other half of my heart, you have it, you stole it from me the day we met. And I don’t even care because if I were to meet any thief I would choose you every time and I’m so glad you took it. I mean goddamit, you mean everything to me, everything. I would die for you without thinking twice, without even blinking,” he says, “I just wish you could see yourself how I do. And whoever made you feel this way never deserved a fraction of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your love. They truly didn’t.”

I don’t say anything for a long while. I’m too awestruck. He loves me. He really actually loves me unconditionally. He always did and I always pushed that notion away.

I’ve never said anything about my past out loud. It makes it less real, I can forget if I bury it. Except I can’t I’ve tried and tried desperately to do so but relentlessly as ever my brain has never let it go.

“My father,” I choked horsely, “my abused me physically from when I was young. I thought it was normal.”

Something twists in Grayson’s stomach, I can see it all over his face. He looks ill, all the colour has drained from his face and his eyes are sorrowful, mournful even.

“But the bruises, they were okay,” I murmur, “even the scars, I could deal with them. It was my mother who cut the deepest, without even laying a finger on me. Her words were…” I attempt to pull myself together, “…her words left scars no one will ever be able to understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words are so quiet I can barely hear him. He looks mortified.

“It’s not your fault,” is all I can reply with. There’s nothing else to say.

“No one should have to-“

“But they do,” I choke, my voice getting shaky again, “and you know what, I’m tired.”

I wish I didn’t feel this weak, this powerless. Tears start free flowing down my cheeks, uncontrollably. Salty droplets leave glistening trails on my cheeks like in some sort of abstract painting in an art museum.

“I’m tired of this pain,” I sob, “I just want it to go away, I just want to be normal.”

The pain wracks my body. Grayson takes me into his open arms and holds me to the warmth of his chest. I nuzzle into him, seeking comfort I’d never received from anyone else. I cling to him like a frightened child to their mother, my knuckles white. I’m almost scared to let go, incase that means I have to let go forever. I can hear his steady heartbeat against my ear. I sob louder, my body physically beginning to ache from the crying.

“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes, stroking a soft hand down my hair, “you’re going to get through this and I’m going to help you.”

“How?” I wail. I’m hysterical and I hate it, but it’s taken control of me now.

“We just are, I promise,” he says, so much passion, so much faith behind the words. I want to believe him but I’ve had too many promises broken.

“I thought I was getting better,” I laugh bitterly, the tears flowing thicker and faster and harder, “I thought that I was coping better with all of this and now this is just proof that I’m not.”

I get it all off of my chest, words I’ve longed to speak for so long, the ones that have been locked away and avoided. I can say them. Freely. The caged bird is remembering she has wings, remembering she could once fly.

“Listen to me,” Grayson says, his voice clear, defined, “what you’ve been through isn’t something you just get over overnight, it’s not something you can wash away.”

“Why can’t it be?” I ask, snivelling in an attempt to gulp back my tears that seemed to be endless.

“It doesn’t work that way love,” he says, his voice so soft it could melt butter but instead it melts my heart.

“But…” I trail off into more sobs. I can’t carry on. Words are not enough to describe what I’m feeling, they’re not deep enough, the they aren’t raw enough.

I sob uncontrollably feeling more humiliated by the second. Loud, ugly, horrible sobs. When things are buried you don’t realise that they’ll eventually resurface. My body jolts backwards and forwards each time I let out a cry.

He pulls me close to his chest and whispers sweet nothings to me to comfort me. He doesn’t say anything the whole time. Somehow he knows that’s what I need. He just holds me, lets me know he’s there with the melodic rise and fall of his comfortable chest. He’s so gentle, so soft, he makes me feel fragile and delicate like a sharp of glass. I cry until I’m so dehydrated that there are no tears left and I’m so exhausted that I want to pass out.

And even then he stays holding onto me, supporting my broken body. He holds me, holding all my dilapidated pieces together, keeping me from falling apart. He cradled my head in my arms and tentatively strokes my hair. I feel myself relax a little more, I feel myself shut my eyes. Suddenly I’m aware of a sensation in my chest. At first I think it’s the panic coming back to prey on me some more but the feeling is too calming. It’s spreading across the left side of my chest, tingling a little but in a ticklish manor. It’s almost a warmth.

Is this what love feels like?

I open my eyes and sit up. What am I roping him into? He doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to be held back by someone like me. He could have anyone, any body in this whole world. I’m the last person he needs in his life.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say trying to pull myself free of his arms but his grip is tight, oddly reassuring. He’s not going to let me go, he’s not planning on leaving, he wants to say. To take care of me.

“Do what?” he asks, brushing some loose baby hairs out of my puffy face.

“The door is wide open, feel free to walk out on this,” I explain with an elaborate hand gesture, “you don’t have to deal with me.”

“The door is firmly bolted shut and no one will be walking out,” he tells me slowly, “you’re not a problem to be dealt with, you’re a person. A wonderful, beautiful, spectacular person, that I have the pleasure of loving.”

Tears well up in my eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today, I’ve never cried so much in my life. The recurring lump in my throat makes another appearance. I don’t mean to get so emotional, but I do. I’m so used to being strong I suppose there’s only so much one person can take before they burst. I feel loved and wanted and needed and cared for, everything I’ve always wished for. Here is a man giving me all of that and more.

“And what if I don’t know how to be loved?” I whisper, fear clamouring up my throat.

“Then I’ll show you,” he whispers, pulling me closer to his chest.

“I’m going to get it wrong,” I panic, “I don’t know how to love.”

“Yes you do,” he soothes, “I know you do because I can feel it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, I hurt people when I love them,” I tell him as he gently caresses my hair, running his fingers through it.

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” he says, “look at me sweetheart, I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. Ever. We’re going to get through this together, okay?”

I nod, my heart not feeling so heavy. I lean further into Grayson and let him kiss the top of my head. The small gesture meaning mountains more because I know he loves me. And for the first time in a long time I smile, a real true smile. And it feels nice.

a/n: again, I’ve never written anything like this before so idk if it did it right 😭😭 anyways so sorry for it taking so long, hope you enjoyed

TIG masterlist

[demodraws0606]

Hello, I'm a Whit fan and I'm about to shoot myself in the foot

I'm gonna sound extremely hypocritical but I find it very funny how a lot of people have placed expectations on what Whit's character is based on previous fictionnal experiences (Happy/Joking character is secretly holding back their sadness).

Even though, I'd argue, Whit is the character we know the least about.

I'm not just saying that as like what we know personally about him but I also mean behavioral wise.

Whit is heavily analysed to have a facade, and I believe that too, even though the arguments on what is behind that facade is up for debate. However we don't actually know what Whit's feelings actually are.

(The reason why I believe Eden and I don't believe Whit, is, unlike him, she has shown no signs of being fake or have any contradicting behavior)

Whit's reactions are very very often contradictory like him caring for people and want to make them smile but also having the most tame reaction to death in this killing game (there is more but this is just an exemple)

Which is why he's the most likely pick to be the mastermind by a lot of people, me included. Because unlike him, other popular pick like Rose, J and Eden have already kind of established a "true character" for themselves that would be harmed in the case of a mastermind plottwist.

Basically those picks, in my opinion, would have character moments that would be ruined and feel pointless if they were the mastermind

Whit however doesn't have much to sacrifice if he is the mastermind mainly because he's already tied up in a bunch of character contradictions unlike other picks. These contradictions can be explained without him being the mastermind but he's really the only one who has those contradictions without having been called out yet (like David).

Also, hot take abound, I don't know why people tie the theme grief so much to Whit's character when actually the main thing that's really been brought up so far with him is idolization.

In fact his secret quote, a thing that seems to incapsulate a character's most important moment, is not about his grief but about him idolizing his mom.

I'm not saying Whit's grief isn't an issue for him, it definitely is, but I mostly mean that people are already posting theories ahead of chapter 2 about how charles will die so that Whit will be able to process his grief properly.

Which I feel is a bit too stereotypical ? It definitely feels like the most obvious path for Whit's archetype.

People associate him rejecting negative emotions as him not wanting to deal with grief but I think it's more likely that he's created a persona tied to his mother that he doesn't want to shatter.

In fact in the David music video thing, the words highlighted in pink is brainwashed and degraded copy. Almost as if he got rid of his personality and replaced it with something else.

Really the only time we've got hints at Whit and grief, is him never talking about his mom dying and also his response to Teruko's grieving response.

[bloodywickedvamp]

Two's Company - What The Hell Is Six? Part 3

Poly!Lost Boys x GN Reader x Michael

Series Masterlist

Summary: It's date night

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, touching, angst, arguments, flirting, lil kiss

I really cannot believe it took me so long to finish part 3 like...where did the time go?? It was almost an entire year...I just struggled to find the motivation but I finally did! Not sure if this is even good it's so late when I finished writing lol, hope you enjoy!

Dividers: @saradika & @firefly-graphics

“Okay…I’ll do it.”

“What?” Michael turns towards me and asks bewildered. I can’t blame him, I’m a little shocked by my own acquiescence. 

I tear my gaze from David to Michael and briefly at our fingers laced together before meeting his eyes. 

“I know this isn’t ideal Mikey, but you heard them, they won’t stop. We can talk about this more later, okay? Just trust me.” Squeezing his hand so tight, to help him to understand why I’m doing this. Why I didn’t have a choice other than to accept their ‘offer’. To protect him from whatever they’re truly capable of. If I said no, they’d take it out on Michael, I know they would. 

He takes a moment to respond. Taking me in from top to bottom and squeezing back a non-verbal response before speaking. With more understanding than I initially thought he’d be capable of granting, he nods, brings our hands up to his lips to ghost them over my knuckles and finally lets out a soft 'okay' with a gentle smile only meant for me. I mirror the sweetness in his face back, until the moment is interrupted. 

“Well that’s just adorable.” David snorted, all too eager to have our attention not on each other. 

“But if you’re finished I’d like to get back to the date you just agreed to.” He directed impatiently. 

“Fine, but there are some ground rules we need to establish first.” I said.

“Oh?” questioned David. He seemed amused by my answer, curiosity slipping through at what I could possibly come up with. 

“First, no kissing or inappropriate touching-”

Paul cut me off to complain, “damn babe, those are all my go-to moves.”

Dwayne swiftly takes it upon himself to reprimand the wild blonde with an elbow to the side and a ‘shut up Paul’. While said blonde untangles his arm from the taller man's shoulders to soothe his aching side with a look of exasperation, like he’d been completely put out by the interaction. 

“Ow, I was only kinda kidding. You can’t hit me like that man, you know I'm sensitive.” He croaked out in a very childlike manner accompanied by a pouty bottom lip. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually got into the fetal position next with how dramatic of a person he seemed to be. In a different circumstance I would’ve found the exchange funny and how close the two are adorable. 

Instead of dwelling, I decided to continue. “Second, we won’t be going anywhere private, we’ll be in public the whole time. Third, no threatening or hurting Michael for any reason. No matter what happens on our ‘date’ you don’t get to do anything to him.” Emphasizing date with a quick eye roll. I may have agreed to this but I don’t have to be happy about it. 

Michael let out a small chuckle from my right before he leaned down to whisper in my ear “My hero.” I try my best to hold back the smile threatening to sneak its way past my serious demeanor but it’s useless and I crack. I can never seem to hold myself back when it comes to Michael, he pulls every part of me to the forefront, good or bad, he always embraces it with open arms and a warm smile. 

“Is that all or do you have any more demands princex?” Marko piped in, once again directing our attention towards the boys in front of us. 

“That’s all for now, but if I think of any more I’ll be sure to let you know promptly.” I finish with faux nicety and the sweetest smile I can muster. 

Pulling a sarcastic laugh from him followed by an even more sarcastic “Can’t wait.” 

It seems Marko and I will be having the most lively time together on our date, if we don’t kill each other first. 

This time, I hear a genuine laugh come from the same curly headed boy. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

I’m baffled at the comment. His joyous response sounded like it was directed at my previous thought, one I definitely thought to myself and didn’t voice aloud. 

“Wait, I didn’t say anything. How-”

Paul decides to answer me first. “We've got all kinds of tricks we can show you baby”, with an additional cheeky grin thrown my way. 

While David finishes with a “but we’ll save that for next time. We’ll meet back here tomorrow night where we usually park the bikes, right after sunset. Don’t be late.” He looks between Michael and I as the quartet begin to make their leave. Each boy giving their own version of a goodbye with waves and ‘catch ya laters’ till they’ve vanished from underneath the boardwalk back towards the stairs. 

“So…we should probably get home and maybe figure out what the hell you just agreed to.” Michael announces after a bout of silence following the departure. 

After Michael drives us back home, he seems to be in a better mood than I expected. He’s acting like his old self again, not letting go of my hand or some part of my body since we arrived. The truth coming out makes him much more at ease, which I can appreciate. The rest of the family noticed his sudden presence at the dinner table with stunned expressions, Sam even commenting ‘what were you dying for moms lasagna or something bud?’ as Lucy shoo’s that off with a wave of her hand and says she’s happy to see everyone together again for dinner with a beaming smile along her face, quickly changing the topic to grandpa’s aversion to giving him an overdue haircut.

Later on, Michael and I found ourselves in the bedroom we share. After a lengthy discussion of the night to come and having to only calm him down a couple of times from leaving to find the boys again and telling them to fuck off, we agree on sticking it out just for tomorrow. After the dates I tell them it won’t work and we can put this mess behind us, hopefully. The matter of Michael being a bloodthirsty creature of the night has yet to be discussed. 

“I still don’t like this plan, just so we’re clear.” He proceeds to tell me one final time as we start to lay down to sleep with a few hours of darkness left cloaking the sky before dawn breaks. 

“We don’t have any other options…unless one of your new special tricks includes time travel to before you met them.” I jokingly tack on as I cuddle further into his side. 

He releases a light chuckle while rubbing my back soothingly. “Sadly no, that’s not in my abilities.” 

“It’ll be okay.” I say, not certain if it’s more for his sake or my own. He silently agrees with a kiss to my forehead and a soft goodnight as we both fall asleep in the comfort of this small window of time we have together. 

Michael and I silently wake up just hours before we would need to leave, having mostly slept the day away together. As dusk quickly approaches, getting ready seemed an easier task than I initially anticipated. He showers after me and dresses in his usual attire of blue jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, and his newly acquired leather jacket that I can’t help but start to like the more I see him in it. While I put on a nice tank top, black jean shorts, and sneakers, dressing fairly casual but also something I would wear on a date with Michael. My outfit showed a bit more skin due to the heat. 

He gives me a once over before asking ‘Is that new?’ as he points to my top. I nod with a look of ‘yeah why?’ and he only shakes his head back before answering, “nothing, you just look nice…and not to sound like a jealous boyfriend but…I can’t say i’m happy seeing you wear something new for them.” 

“Hey I can chan-”

“No.” He stops me before I begin. “Like I said you look good and I’ll just have to get over the fact that they’re getting to be with you tonight and not me, when all I want to do now is rip your outfit to shreds and toss you back in that bed till morning.” He says, as he grabs my hips pulling me into a heated kiss. Only allowing himself to pull back as I’m gasping for air. 

“Very tempting offer.” I breathlessly snicker while running my hands through his thick head of curls. He pulls me back in for one more peck and reluctantly drags me along to the front door so we can head out.

We arrive at the boardwalk and Michael parks his bike exactly where David said they’d be, watching the crowd go by and laughing amongst themselves till we’ve made our way into the group beside them as they take notice. Michael helps me off his bike as we stand in front of them, hands still intertwined. 

David looks at us like it’s cute we’re still trying to hold up some type of front to the situation, and I guess in a way he’s right, they have the upper hand. 

Surprisingly Marko is the first to speak, “And here I thought you were dreading going out with us, but by the looks of that outfit I’d say you were trying to put on a show, feel free to show off even more skin if you’d like.” It takes everything in my body to stay calm because I know that comment is only meant to get a rise out of me. I won’t give him the satisfaction. 

After I take a soothing breath I reply, “It’s hot outside and I’d rather not keel over from overheating, that’s all.” 

He leans closer with a smirk and gives a half-hearted “whatever you say sweetheart”, before leaning back and giggling like school girls about it with Paul. I simply roll my eyes and turn my attention back to David. 

“Let’s go.” He announces to the group as we all start to follow his lead. Dwayne walks in stride with Michael and I, sandwiching me between them, with Marko and Paul tailing behind us. I decide to chance it and look at Dwayne as he leans down towards me, not breaking eye contact for even a moment as we continue to walk. “Don’t let him get to you, he just likes to ruffle feathers. But for what it’s worth, you look lovely.” His lips lift into a half smile, half smirk once he notices the heat rising to my cheeks at the complement. I attempt to brush it off with a quick ‘thanks’ and steal a glance at Michaels now taut jaw and lingering gaze on us. I turn my attention forward as Dwayne’s hand coyly slides up my waist and is gone again before I even have time to register it as he picks up his pace to step in time with David. Michael lets out a scoff and pulls me closer to his side by our joined hands. 

David walked us to a section of restaurants with outdoor seating we could all gather at, choosing a wooden picnic bench for us. Michael and I are sitting on one bench with the two natural blondes and brunette sitting on the other, while David decides to grab a lone chair from a different table and pull it up on the side so he’s seated at the ‘head’ of the table. 

“So how is this going to work exactly? Are we all doing this together or…?” I decide to voice my curiosity before the conversation inevitably gets side tracked or leads to another argument.  

All eyes turn to David as he fills me in. “We’ll each take you out individually - Dwayne’s first.” Nodding his head in the direction of his friend. My own gaze found its way back to his dark brown eyes, that same smile from earlier plastered on. In that moment a wave of familiarity washed over me, like I’ve gotten lost in those eyes a million times before and would continue to do so for as long as I’d be allowed to stare into them. Like how it feels to look into Michaels. 

Michael.

Remembering he’s sitting right next to me I shake the previous thoughts away and proceed to stand to meet Dwayne on the other side so we can get this night started already. 

But I freeze in my tracks as it suddenly occurs to me that Michael will be all alone with the other boys for the rest of the evening, and the thought of him being tormented and teased about this situation he has no control over sends a pang of guilt through me. I decide I have to try and ease some of the tension, if I can. 

“Wait- before we go I have another condition to add.” 

David leans back in his chair with a raised brow, gloved fingers tapping along the table. “Yes?” 

“If this is going to work you can’t be at each other's throats the whole time I'm gone. Michael told me that he barely knows anything about any of you and vice versa, so while I'm on each date the rest of you are going to stay here and get to know each other - like real friends.” 

“What?” 

“I’m serious, you’re not going to sit here all night and fuck with my boyfriend behind my back, I’m not asking.” I try to muster up as much confidence in my words as I'm sure David actually has naturally coursing through him. He only ponders what I've said momentarily before giving a strained smile that doesn’t exactly meet his eyes and mutters out a quick ‘sure’. Looking towards the others that slowly nod along in agreement - even if their faces say otherwise. 

Now feeling better about leaving, I let Dwayne lead the way out of the seating area towards the  crowds of people scattered along the boardwalk for whatever he had planned.

Michael turns back to the remaining boys seated with him after staring daggers into Dwayne's back before the two completely disappear from sight. He speaks up before the others can, to get the ball rolling. “Okay so…where should we start?” He sends them each a questioning glance. 

David stares back with the most incredulous look he can muster, like he couldn’t believe he was actually going through with the ‘getting to know each other idea’. After a minute a mocking smile takes over his face. 

“Yeah…” He draws out. “We’re not doing that.” He says with little room for push back. 

Michael crosses his arms over his chest and nods his head in a similar mocking manner, amused by the reply. “You’ve got a lot to learn, they’ll come back and expect a full report on what we talked about, want specifics to make sure you followed through on your promise.” 

“We’ll make something up.” David again says matter of factly. 

Michael scoffs. “They’ll be able to tell if i’m lying, how do you think I ended up in this situation in the first place? I wasn’t able to keep what you did to me a secret.” The other boys may not want to participate in this but he’d be damned if he got into trouble for not at least trying to play nice. 

“Alright, fine. I particularly enjoyed watching you get your ass chewed out in front of half the boardwalk last night. It was the highlight of my week.” David faux relents, like he’s shared intimate knowledge of himself only few know and pretends as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders with a content sigh. Stifled giggles from the terror twins echo in the background. 

“You know what, the only one you’re hurting is yourself. Keep it up and they’ll want nothing to do with you. Which will be the highlight of my life.” 

Silence followed Michaels statement as the two were now sat in a heated staring match. The tension in the air rapidly increased as neither one backed down. If looks could kill they’d both be six feet under. Even the blondes, who hadn’t said a word since the conversation began, were forced into an awkward stillness watching the interaction unfold, waiting for the underlying hostility to bubble over. 

Paul decides someone has to try and mediate before this gets any uglier and, more importantly, his turn for a date is possibly soured by the oldest and newest member of their pack coming to blows. In his opinion the best way to deal with this would be to let them fight it out, but he knows the night can’t end with them covered in blood, scratches, and bite marks - unless they’re fucking. 

All eyes are suddenly shifted to Paul as he clears his throat obnoxiously. “Uhhh…my favorite band is Mötley Crüe.” He says with a bright smile, proud that it actually worked since the boys' body languages were all seeming to relax. 

Marko, good naturedly, pats Paul on the back as an ‘attaboy’ for the attempt. 

As Dwayne and I continue walking through the boardwalk I feel one of his hands graze my lower back and rest there. I quickly snatch his wrist and pull it in front of me.

“I said no touching.” I admonish. Before I can drop it, he seizes the opportunity to grab my hand instead. 

“I was only trying to guide you, but you’re right this way is better so we don’t get separated.” 

“Right…” I probably should have put up more of a fight, but the crowd is double the size of last night's and we could easily lose each other. Not that I really believe his reason for wanting to hold my hand is so noble. I let it slide anyways.

We make small talk about movies and music as we venture through different stalls. Anytime he asks me a question I have to mentally prepare myself before answering. His intense gaze makes me apprehensive, it's like he’s enraptured by every word and I’m nervous if what I'm saying is even adequate. He hasn’t been judgemental yet, so I let his deep baritone put me at ease when he responds to something I’ve said. 

He pulls us to a stop in front of an ice cream shop claiming it's the best in town and we should get some. After ordering and him paying for both of ours, we head towards the other side to lean against the railing while we eat. He watches as I dig out a spoonful of the sweet treat to taste. My eyes go wide from the first bite. He wasn’t kidding about how good it is and he seemed proud of himself once I told him exactly that. 

After a few mouthfuls of his own, he silently gestures towards his cup asking if I’d like to try the flavor he had and I nod in agreement. He dips his spoon in and holds it to my mouth for me to try. I squint at it before making eye contact with him and before I can even get a word out he’s anticipated why I won't try it. 

“You’re not cheating on Michael by tasting my ice cream.”

“No, but I’m not trying to swap spit by sharing a spoon.” I decline, while gently pushing his arm towards his own face to eat it and he does so with a chuckle. 

He relents and allows me to try it with my own spoon. I, in turn, make him the same offer with my cup of ice cream. 

Instead, he takes his thumb and swipes it across the corner of my mouth before bringing it back to his own and sucking on the digit. 

“Pretty good.” He says casually.

I’m in shock as my whole body is set aflame from the intimate moment. He grants me a small mercy by not acknowledging how much it affected me. I proceed to eat the rest in silence knowing if I look him in the eye or, god forbid, try and have a conversation after that I’d be a stuttering mess. 

He takes the lead once more by throwing out our trash and grabbing my hand to help me off the railing. 

“Let’s check out a few pop up booths, there might be something there you like.” He says as he walks us in that direction. 

“Like clothes and stuff?” I ask. I haven’t really explored the boardwalk before so I don’t know much about what they have or the best places to shop. 

“Yeah, that’s usually where we pick something up if we need new clothes, that’s where Marko gets all his patches because they’re…cheap.”

“Do you even own a shirt?” I jest. “Because I’ve only ever seen you in just that jacket.”

He looks back at me with amusement in his eyes. 

“I do, but the clean up from a night out is much easier without one.” 

I give him a weary look and he tenses slightly like he said something he probably shouldn’t have. 

“Do I want to know what that means?” 

He shakes his head at me, “no, probably not.” 

“Let’s just keep the conversation light for now.” I suggest, hoping not to dive into anything too heavy. I’ve enjoyed the mostly chill atmosphere so far and hope it can stay that way. 

“Deal”, he says as he gives me a genuine smile as we continue on our way.

🖤 Taglist 🖤

@britany1997 @faefairi3 @princessmads1820 @1nternetvampire @itsyoboysparkel @nataliewalker93 @thelostone91 @misslavenderlady @ursatanicbunny @warrior-616 @charlizekkelly @ghoulgeousimmaculate @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @the-faceless-bride @wickedsandwich08 @palomam18 @walt25 @phantomenby @dwaynesbiboyfriend @crustyraccoon @vampirefilmlover @certified-ghostbuster @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @solobagginses @asdorlia @besas-stuff @kathylee2003 @notfoundfootage @milfsrcool @queen-bunny @imacollasaltitan @midnight-shadow-va

[angelsstranger]

not to bitch and moan but today i (he/him tme transsexual dyke) remember my transmasc roommate of days past and the time he saw me wearing a skirt and said “if i dressed like that I would want to kill myself”

always sort of insinuating that a “real” trans person couldn’t be gender nonconforming..

and eventually of course devolving into the “trans women actually have more privilege than me somehow and i feel threatened by them” which turned into “in the future i dont want to live with AMABs again” yes that second one is a direct quote there was so much more to the convo it ended our friendship quite abruptly and messily.

but my point being transmascs using their own dysphoria and their bigotry they inherited from their family as a weapon against trans women is soo much more common than you think it is. this person was supposedly a leftist and was friends with/trying to date many trans women at the time. it unsettled me how he would imply he found these women untrustworthy at the time but also he approached specifically trans women again and again looking for their patience nurturing and support even asking them for money and favors. before again pivoting and returning to the i think shes a bit TOO into me and its creeping me out.

my takeaway was basically it is your responsibility to tell trans women if they are seeing or hanging out with someone who says terfy shit behind their back. protect your community to make sure nobody has to experience that type of violence (to be clear the violence im referring to here is: someone trans or cis who wants to date/sleep with trans women but continues to imply trans women are dangerous or untrustworthy, eventually discarding each woman they bring into their life for vague reasons which all stem back to transmisogyny)

i was so distracted by how every time i tried to discuss with HIM the harm he caused he would break down cryinf about how fragile he is and all the trauma in his life and i was hesitant to let my friends know the transphobic things he said about them because i thought it would hurt them a lot (ignorant on my behalf. once i finally told my friends i realized i should have warned EVERYONE the very first time i saw this behavior) i didn’t want to seem like i was shit talking him or being rude to the women he was seeing but by the end of our friendship that was one of my greatest regrets. I personally try to honor this mistake by fucking never letting something like this slide ever again and being a reliable friend to the trans women in my life by telling them honestly if i don’t trust someone i see them associating with. that type of passivity in our communities is something that also puts trans women at risk.

since coming back to tumblr ive seen a lot of transmascs harrasing trans women here and the sense of entitlement and the need to frame trans women as a threat to your individual comfort and safety is incredibly harmful and selfish. it reminds me of that shit i watched going down two years ago with my room mate and i really don’t like seeing terf ideology spread by other trans people. check yourself and imo leave trans women the fuck alone if you are still unlearning that shit. stop inviting trans women on dates and hangouts if behind their backs youre insinuating they are untrustworthy or violent in some way. that is so evil ok send post

[utilitycaster]

I think something important to remember in actual play is that character backstory is neither an itinerary for the GM to follow nor a to-do list for the player to check off, but rather a means to provide context for the character's motivations, how they got to where they are now, and how they will respond to whatever comes up. It's not a scripted work, so you can't just make a character follow a specific arc.

It's an extension of something I've said before, that creating characters outside the context of a specific D&D game has never really made sense to me because the GM's direction should be integral to your character creation. At best you can have a very loose concept that you drastically expand upon to fit a particular game. If you're about to play Curse of Strahd, for example, you aren't going to be exploring a complex personal history in Candlekeep. You can certainly be informed by a complex personal history in Candlekeep, and quite honestly should be informed by some kind of complex personal history somewhere! But in the game, you're going to be going into Barovia and dealing with Strahd. And you made a character based in Candlekeep because your GM said "we're playing in the Forgotten Realms". Your character is in that context as well: someone who'd have reason to go to Barovia, from the world in which Barovia exists.

Unsurprisingly, I'm talking about this because of Critical Role Campaign 3, and look, if I am wrong about what I say in this paragraph please feel free to bring up this post and say "you were wrong" but I just do not think this campaign is ever going to not be about the moon and the gods. I think there's ways it could have been about those things and still have had room for more downtime or personal excursions. I think that "pulpier and deadlier" wasn't wrong, but perhaps the cast could have benefited from more guidance in the same way that "this campaign is going to be spookier and deadlier" would not necessarily be a good way to tell your players that they're going to be playing Curse of Strahd, but it is what it is. That doesn't mean character backstories won't be explored (and honestly, I think they've all had at least a moment in the sun) but it isn't the focus, it's never really been the focus, and speaking only for myself that's been apparent for, at minimum, nearly 18 months.

It also doesn't mean you have to like it, nor that you can't complain. But there's always been hanging threads or unexplored elements. There's the obvious limitations of Pike's story given that Ashley was unable to be at the table much of the time, but we never really went deep into Scanlan's parents - and we didn't have to, because the purpose of Scanlan's mother being killed by goblins wasn't "we're going to avenge her"; it was to explain why he'd become a wandering bard and to inform how Sam played him. The Robert Sharpe plot for Jester never got much play because really, it was mostly as an establishing character moment and the reason why she left Nicodranas, not something that needed an extensive arc (nor something Laura seemed terribly interested in pursuing). We've never met Sabian or Tori; the twins never went back to Byroden during the campaign; Keyleth didn't find Vilya herself; Percy ended the campaign still with a lot of damage.

Which brings me to the final point which is that as anyone who's played a character-centric, GM-ed, longform advancement-style TTRPG should hopefully know, if there is a disconnect with what you as a player want to explore and with what your GM wants to play, and it's not in conflict with what was made clear from the start (ie, you didn't show up to the game the GM said would be Curse of Strahd and get mad that it was Curse of Strahd) it is the responsibility of the player to signal both in and out of game that this is something they want. If they don't, the GM will not know. But also, if you're wishing your favorite C3 character's backstory was explored in more depth, that character exists within the context of the moon plot. That is a part of who they are; they've grown around that plot and extricating them from it would necessarily destroy parts of them. You can tell a butterfly effect story, certainly, in which things were different, but that's ultimately fanfiction and neither a theory nor what should have happened nor is it an injustice to the character that it didn't happen. It's just what you wanted to have happened.

[lesbianrobin]

Hi for a writer new to writing 911 fics what are some key character points that you think are really important for capturing the vibes of Buck and Eddie?

omg HIII 🫶🏻🫶🏻

so first off i also consider myself New to writing 911 fics fmvjdjc but i assume since ur asking Me of all people you like one/some of my fics enough to think i am an authority which rules. thank u that's so sweet. ANYWAY on to my actual advice.

buck: you know that john mulaney bit where he's saying he's a terrible driver and he's like "i hear you honking and i also don't want me to be doing what i'm doing. i don't like that i'm in that lane either. and i sure would like to get out of it." that is buck in basically every aspect of his life besides being a firefighter. his problem is that he won't pull over long enough to figure out what the hell he's doing. buck acts before he thinks and only Later does he even consider like hey Why did i do that. What was i feeling. What was i trying to accomplish. which often results in him behaving selfishly and hurting others (see: lawsuit, Entire Relationship With Taylor Kelly, maiming eddie during a basketball game, coming to the erroneous conclusion that he was jealous over tommy rather than eddie) as well as behaving recklessly and risking his own life under the cover of heroism and necessity.

as far as more like. basic character things go. buck can be kinda dumb And smart at the same time. people often swing really hard in one direction or the other and i think it does buck a disservice. like, yeah, he loves his fun facts and research spirals and books, he clearly has a love for learning, but he's also not the Best at critical analysis of his sources and maybe has a tendency to take things at face value. like i do fear that buck could be persuaded to join an essential oils mlm.

ALSO buck is a weirdo like yes he Can be charming but he also has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and says shit like "oh we didn't kill him we just WANTED to!" TO THE COPS. WHEN BEING QUESTIONED ABOUT A MURDER. i think buck is just constantly rolling either nat ones or nat twentys when it comes to charisma.

i also think it's important to keep in mind that while buck can be deeply insecure, that insecurity doesn't Usually manifest in him like. noticeably withdrawing into himself or trudging sadly around like a kicked puppy. his response to that insecurity is most often to be loud, to lash out, or to overcompensate (see: his entire personality in s1, eddie's introduction, befriending red and taking on his end of life care, swearing to abby that he'll rescue her fiancé and risking his own life to do it, etc).

ok i think i've yapped enough ab buck SO!

eddie: i actually feel like way less confident prescribing advice for writing eddie fmvkdjc so this'll probably be shorter than the buck section. as far as the Basics go i think people can often characterize eddie as very like serious and grim but he rly is not! he's a very silly guy! mostly with chris and buck, but also a bit with carla and linda and the rest of the 118. i think eddie is a guy who can behave very differently depending on how comfortable he is around somebody, and there are many parts of himself that he keeps locked down around others.

eddie thinks about his feelings and motivations before acting in a way that buck typically doesn't, but that doesn't mean he's correctly assessing those feelings and motivations. eddie is an incredibly unreliable narrator when it comes to his own life! he'll feel the desire to do something (for example, dating ana or going from active firefighting to a desk job) and Then construct his conscious reasoning for it (i'm ready to move on from shannon and i like her, chris will feel better and it's better for him if i have a safe job) while avoiding his Deeper feelings and motivations (the compulsion to give chris A Mother so that he feels like less of a failure as a father, his own ptsd and other mental health struggles in the wake of the shooting).

this doesn't mean that eddie is entirely emotionally unintelligent! he just kinda hates himself and he's deeply repressed and he often feels that he can't do things For Him, they all have to be For Chris.

ok that's like most of what i've got for now i'm rly not an authority on eddie but i tried my best 😭

as a duo: i think the #1 thing to remember when writing buck and eddie is that they're best friends and they understand each other better than anybody else in their lives. like that doesn't mean that they're always on the same page but they Do canonically recognize each other's feelings and motivations most of the time and after the lawsuit/street fighting era, they always respond to each other with patience and care when one of them is having a rough time.

like i think you actually have to try Very hard to justify it if you're gonna have buck and eddie miscommunicating and seriously arguing with each other in a fic. i remember when everyone was like omgggg buck is gonna LOSE IT ON EDDIE when he finds out about kim!! and then when buck Did find out about kim he was literally just worried about eddie and talked to him about it and asked the questions that eddie Needed to be asked so that he could work through his feelings and address the situation. buck and eddie just have a knack for knowing what the other person needs, and they're at a point where they will go to each other for help and be openly vulnerable!

and they have fun together! they're silly! see: "locked room mystery" "locked Yard mystery", the whole bachelor party, eddie being like buck Pwease can we look for the treasure together 🥺, etc etc. they just enjoy being together and i think that is so crucial to writing them.

final thoughts: in general my #1 piece of advice for writing fic is to rewatch the show/clips from the show when you're trying to capture a character's voice. i do not do this nearly as often as i should bc i am lazy but it rly is deeply helpful for making sure that they sound like themselves!

i would also advise that even if your fic is buddie-centric, it helps to include the other characters in even small ways. our relationships with others are central to who we are! references to other characters like chris, maddie, chim, etc. can go a long way toward making buck and eddie feel like themselves.

thank you again for asking me!! it's really really flattering. i hope this was of some help to you!!

[factual-fantasy]

29 asks! Thank you!! :)) 🦝

@abaroo @ditzyclown (Referencing this post)

XDD I'm not sure! Evil Grim seems too hot headed and mean to have any real bond with a trainer.. though Evil Sylvester belonging to some pompous rich butthead that treats him like gold seems likely <XDD

As for their good sides,, I haven't really decided if they have one at all. They are supposed to be "evil" versions of Grim and V after all..😅

And I'm also not entirely sure they'd even be friends.. since Evil Sylvester thinks that Gengars as gross, and the two of them have no respect for each other.. it seems pretty unlikely that a friendship would bloom.. 😔

...However.... 👀 That's not to say they couldn't go through some kind of character development and some kind of bond would form..

XDD Kermit you're so chaotic

@badlyblurry

That sounds like a ton of fun actually! :DD Now I just gotta find some of those wheels and challenges- <XDD

(In response to this post)

Aw man... poor little cookie.. <:(

THE BLACK PEAL GAL KILLED THE DIVER??

@briandraws

AKUCHEUFH THANK YOU!! XDDD

@soulful-rodent

I've been thinking a lot about making a master post for my Pokémon stuff, Undertale stuff, Octonauts stuff, etc.. But I just haven't gotten around to it. 💀💀 But I'll keep thinking about it thanks to your ask :00

As for evil Grim and V, I'd love to draw more of them! Maybe even evil/opposite versions of the others.. I just don't have any more ideas for them.. 😔😔😔

@khoiazo (Referencing this post)

XDDD couldn't have described their vibes better myself!

It just makes me really uncomfortable <:/ I prefer comments instead :}

@anikakitty11

Such a cute littol puppo!! 😭😭💞💞💞

I'm not familiar with many dog breeds.. but I can say that they both have the dumb and happy golden retriever energy <XDD

I haven't really thought about what other eeveeloutions he might encounter.. but I imagine a potential encounter with an Umbreon would be very similar to the Espeon encounter.

Maybe he saw the glowing eyes of an Umbreon peeking out of a bush a few feet away.. He froze in shock, recognizing the scent to be an eeveeloution. He looked away for just a second and when he turned back, it was gone..

I'm thinking that over years and years of being together they just naturally built this rock solid friendship and trust. They've had multiple experiences where their friendship was tested but it never broke.

I'm also thinking that a key factor in their friendship is them having the exact came sense of humor XDD They're both idiots

@minnesotamedic186 (Referencing this post)

XDD I see what you mean!

I've seen fanart of it floating around, the game with the.. cat.. slug.? Critters right? :00

@loud-kid2

I haven't actually beaten all the gyms yet- <XDD I've been spending most of my time drawing instead of playing Violet.😅

As for struggling with the gyms, I haven't struggled with any so far! AND THATS NOT ME TRYING TO SOUND COCKY- Most of the fun I have with Pokémon is the collecting part. So for the gyms I just use a type advantage and over level my Pokémon by like 10 levels and plow through the battle.. <XDD

I will say however, the water type gym challenge totally stumped me. <XDD For some reason I just couldn't figure it out and googled the answer in the end.. 😔😔😔

@rusty-doodles

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! :DDD 💞💞

A looooooot of patience and re-drawing <XDD (Also thank you!! :}}} )

I have seen some of it, :0 but I don't know all the new characters they added.. <:0

Not at the moment no.. I'm still on break from the fandom 😵‍💫

<XD I'm not the first person to think of Tweak dying her hair, so go right ahead! :))

@kermit-ydafrog

XDD I see the resemblance!

XDD No they're not infinite- But I was thinking that they can stretch shockingly far thanks to his mystical fairy typing XD How far that is exactly? I haven't really decided.. 🤔

@cat-noodle

I'm glad you love them! And while I wouldn't usually agree to this,, I'll give you the go ahead to cross stitch the lads XDD

@mimiocto (Sent after this post)

Aww! Sylvester needs a positive interaction after that frighting Espeon encounter <XDD

Ooo! :DD How fun! I should look into getting one too.. 🤔

(Refencing this post)

JSCSUCUSHIUHC XDDDD

[mintedwitcher]

So I was going to reblog further on that "Scott believed Theo over Stiles" post from yesterday, only by the time I'd finished writing my addition I realised 2 things:

I was writing from a reactive standpoint. I felt a negative way about the previous reply and I let it impact how I responded, and

I ended up talking myself out of the stance that I'd started with.

So in that vein, I'm going to rewrite it here as it's own post, with the encouragement from @prettyshon10 (the OP of the previous post).

Sorry for the long intro but I wanted to be transparent about where I'm coming from here. I'll put the rest under a cut because this is going to be long.

(Edit: it got Very Long, sorry.)

The key thing to note first of all is that I wasn't giving Stiles a "free pass". I acknowledge and agree that both he and Scott mishandled the situation. However, because of the power imbalance inherent in their dynamic, with Scott being an alpha werewolf and Stiles being his Second, I do believe that there is more weight on Scott's shoulders here than on Stiles's.

The timing of the discussion alone is a misstep on Scott's part. He initiated the conversation in the rain, while they were already short on time, trying to save a girl who was dying. Stopping to have any kind of heavy conversation at that point in time wasn't going to end well, because there are simply too many details that have to be hammered out. There is too much to say, and not nearly enough time to say it all. Especially with the emotional weight of the situation on both parts.

I also say that Scott bears more weight in the moment because he is the leader of their group. Stiles might have plenty of influence with Scott, but Scott is still the leader, and so it falls to him more than anyone else to sort out conflicts within the group. That's not to say that Stiles shouldn't have come forward about it - in fact I think that Stiles should've gone to Scott first about it - but that Scott has a responsibility to their entire pack to make sure that everyone is as comfortable as possible. That is the role he's taken on among them, and in confronting Stiles the way he did, he failed in that role. (Stiles' failing is not trusting Scott to have his back if he'd told him the truth, and I desperately wish that the canon had gone deeper into the reasons why he didn't trust Scott with this. I've seen fanon interpretations that the trauma from the nogitsune could be influencing Stiles' distance, but again, that's never really discussed in canon so... it's an interesting theory, but it's another place where the show's writing fell short.)

In my initial response, I said that Scott has a "killing = bad" mentality, and I do stand by that, because from canon observation, his morality is fickle at best. He allows - and even encourages - murder when it suits him (killing Peter to "cure" himself, killing Gerard to be with Allison, killing Jennifer to save his mother) but condemns it when it doesn't (letting Jennifer go after her ritual failed, locking Peter in Eichen after Mexico, letting Deucalion and Gerard live). There are even points where his fluctuating morality doesn't make sense, such as when he refused to kill assassins who were actively targeting people he knew and loved. He persists that killing is wrong, and that murdering a Bad Guy makes you Just Like Them. But he overlooks it entirely when it suits him, when it can be justified as something that the Good Guys did. (Most notably here can be the way he overlooks Allison hunting and nearly killing Erica, Boyd and Isaac; not because their deaths would benefit him but because going against Allison would damage his relationship with her.)

It's actually a very interesting contradiction, and if Scott was an adult in the series it would be on a whole different level, but unfortunately, he's a child. Which means that his contradictions aren't exactly novel and groundbreaking, they're just... teenage conflicts. He's doing the best he can with the limited information he has, and the limited experience he has as well, and that leads to some very black-and-white thinking.

His worldview is black-and-white not as a character flaw but as a result of his age and the life he's led so far. He's still a child for the majority of the show, and so his worldview is limited by what he knows. He knows that murder is illegal and that killing people is not a good solution all the time, and that people who kill anyway are bad, ergo, killing = bad. Until he needs someone dead for whatever reason, which he can then justify to himself as "But I'm a Good Guy, and this person is a Bad Guy, and I'm going to save a lot of people from them if I kill the Bad Guy, so my actions aren't Bad because I have Good Intentions." Which is a very black-and-white thing to do. (I'm not saying this is a fault or a failing of his character, it's just an observation. This mentality also isn't specific to murder but also to many other 'immoral' actions.)

Stiles, similarly, has a black-and-white worldview for the same reasons; age and life experience. Where the two differ, however, is that Stiles has experienced more trauma than Scott has at this point of his life. So his priorities are skewed in a different lens than Scott's are. Scott is very much "Save Everyone, no matter what," whereas Stiles is more "Some people can't be saved, protect your own." Which are both very fair views to have.

Stiles watched his mother mentally decline for months(?) before she died. He was in the room with her when she died. And if the very vague timelines can be believed, he would've been around 6-8 years old at the time. There was nothing that he could do to save his mother, and there was nothing he could do to save his father from his grief after her death. I do really wish we had more lore about the Stilinski family during that grieving period, because that would likely inform the way that Stiles behaves now, too.

But what we do see from Stiles is that he is suspicious. He has one friend and he likes it that way. He distrusts anyone who gets a little Too close, especially too close to Scott. (This to me reads like a protective behaviour rather than the fanon-preferred possessive; Scott grew up with severe asthma, and Stiles likely would've been the one helping Scott deal with that throughout their childhoods.) But he's not suspicious to the point of paranoia. His suspicion is always firmly rooted in reality. He notices Matt's weird behaviour in season 2, in fact he's the only one to see Matt as a potential threat. He notices - though doesn't actually put the pieces together right away - that the kanima was familiar to him the first time he saw it. He's the one who goes through the process of actually investigating and documenting the weird shit that keeps happening to them. His pattern recognition skills are unmatched, though severely underutilised in canon.

What I'm trying to get at is that Stiles is the realist in the Scott+Stiles dynamic duo. Scott is the Optimist. Scott is the one who always wants to find the peaceful solution, who wants everyone to walk away happy and satisfied - or at the very least, alive - at the end of the day. Stiles is the one who recognises that sometimes that's just not an option. Sometimes there are going to be people you can't talk down, threats you can't just peacefully walk away from.

Their dynamic should - and normally does - function perfectly. But there are times that it doesn't, because Scott has a bad habit of ignoring or dismissing Stiles' concerns.

Which brings us (at last) back to the actual point.

Stiles had said from day one that he doesn't trust Theo. That there's something off about him. That he's not the kid they knew growing up. Scott humours it at first, but ultimately decides to make his own judgements about Theo (which is a fair choice). This, however, plants the seeds for the discord that Theo is about to sow within the pack.

(There are other instances of Scott dismissing Stiles' theories but if I get into that I'll be here for hours.)

Theo has spent all this time trying to ingratiate himself into the pack, to get into Scott's good books, and at every turn, he's met with Stiles barricading him. He's got Stiles' alarms ringing, and Stiles isn't going to drop it. So what does he do? First, he shows empathy to Stiles, by saying that he knows about Donovan - and dropping that in the middle of an already emotionally heightened moment so to deliberately keep Stiles off-balance - and then using that to plead Stiles's silence about Josh. Stiles, in response, backs off of Theo. Not entirely, but he keeps his distance, because now Theo has incriminating information about him and Stiles doesn't want Scott to know about it. Once Theo has some breathing room, he escalates. It's now not just about getting in with Scott, it's about getting rid of his overprotective packmates. So he tells Scott an edited version of the story. He lies through his teeth and Scott, the bleeding-heart that he is, laps it up. He's horrified by Stiles' involvement of course but he feels for Theo. Which is exactly what Theo wants, and exactly what Stiles wanted to avoid.

The crux of it all is the confrontation. Scott and Stiles are having two completely different conversations, and due to the timing of the moment, they can't go into further detail to untangle the miscommunication between them. So it keeps getting worse.

From Scott's point of view, he's trying to understand what would make his best friend snap so violently. He's trying to understand, to be there for his friend. He wants to help. Why can't Stiles see that he's only trying to help?

From Stiles' point of view, he's being punished. He's being pushed out and away, he's being lectured at for trying to defend himself, why won't Scott just see that he was only defending himself?

Neither of them know what the other is really saying. They both Think that the version of events in their head matches the reality, and they both walk away from that moment feeling like they've failed.

The problem - and where my own stance on the discourse is really rooted - is that the way the scene is presented, makes it look like Scott is choosing Theo over Stiles. It looks like Scott is turning his back on his lifelong friend. I'll have to rewatch the actual episode to get a better analysis of the specific placement of that scene, but that was the impression that I walked away with the first (and almost every) time I watched that episode.

To sum up: I don't think that Scott "believed" Theo over Stiles, but to the characters, it would feel that way. The problem is that fandom tends to project themselves onto the character they like more. I've seen people insisting that Scott underreacted to the situation in equal measure to the people insisting that Scott overreacted.

I think it's kind of fascinating how our personal preferences interfere with the way we interpret media.

[fanfic-obsessed]

I have a prompt for you, in light of the recent (very entertaining) DCU aus you've posted. If you were going to do a batfam-are-cryptids-but-now-the-justice-leauge-meets-them thing, how would you do it?

Have I told you thank you yet, @somestorythoughts, your prompts and responses make me so happy. Also I almost always end up with  more to write, which is fun.

Now back to the important part.

Fair warning, I screw with ages and timelines with this one. There is no canon here

I think, as far as a cryptid status is concerned this will be a ‘Batman is a founding, and funding, member of the Justice League, but has never revealed his identity’ kind of idea (with all the precautions therein to make sure even the metas can’t guess his identity). There is some speculation throughout the Justice League that Batman does not actually have a civilian identity, that he is the spirit of justice possessing a cape and cowl (Seriously there were three attempted exorcisms).  It is known that Batman always works alone, and that no one is to set foot Gotham, a few of the youngest members disbelieve that Gotham even really exists. 

However there are always rumors that can’t quite be dispelled.  No one in the Justice League can figure out the Watchtower’s firewall (designed by Oracle). Through the years there have been half heard conversations by the JL that almost sound like a wellness check after a fight, going either direction over a com line they can’t access. Sometimes during particularly difficult fights masked strangers will appear, most of which fight with styles similar to Batman, only to vanish again without a word. A few swear they have caught code names (Robin…or maybe Red Robin…Or was it Red Hood…no it was really Black Bat…there might be a BatGirl????) but no one can confirm anything.

In addition, it is impossible to quell the rumor that entering Gotham uninvited means you will disappear.  Not every time and no one can figure out the difference between being escorted out and vanishing, but there have been several heroes from the community who vanished after entering Gotham over the years.

What’s really happening is that I love the Young Justice Team and want a way for it to work with Cryptid BatFam. 

Two of the most notable, the first but certainly not the last, were Bart Allen, Impulse, and Cassie Sandsmark, Wonder Girl who entered the city limits together to try to prove that they too could be heroes. Both were 15 when they vanished.  Unknown to anyone else, at the same time an unnamed clone of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor was also sent into Gotham, as a test of some kind. 

All three of them, for different reasons, entered feeling abandoned or dismissed by the people around them. So when they encountered Tim Drake, as Robin, age 14; he called dibs and adopted them on the spot (Tim: These are my children Cassie, Bart, and the newly named Connor. Yes, I carried them in my very own womb and I am very proud of all of them. No, I will not accept questions. Batkids: Cool! Niblings. Batman<sighs>: At least tell me you didn’t kill someone to acquire them. Tim: I just told you, I birthed them myself).  So Cassie, Bart, and Connor are absorbed into the BatFam. Both Bart and Cassie decide against telling anyone where they are, with Connor not really having anyone to tell.  It should also be noted that the JL avoided asking Batman about the whereabouts of the kids who vanished after entering Gotham, they didn’t want to admit where the kids had gone. 

Three years later, Jason, as Red Hood (Jason did not die here, though it was close. He still took on the moniker of Red Hood after a beating by the Joker), age 19 happens upon Roy Harper, age 20 after Roy had a fight with Oliver and does the same thing. Only Jason dragged Roy home and introduced Roy home as his newest brother, giving Bruce a crazy look that said under no uncertain terms that Bruce better break out the adoption papers immediately; never mind that Roy was not underage.  

At the same time Raven, originally 26, was de aged to about 8 due to an attempted possession by her father, accidentally portals into Gotham and practically climbs Dick Grayson,age 22, in fear. The effects of the spell and the portal wiped her memories past her physical age.  So now Dick has a daughter as well, who he thinks is a Gothamite since he never saw the portal.  As far as anyone from Justice League Dark can tell there was a portal leading to Gotham where Raven disappeared but no one knows what happened (Batman and his family are looking for an adult Raven and never connected her to the 8 year old Rachel that became Dick’s daughter).

Others also disappear, having been adopted by the Waynes

What I am saying is that Gotham is considered quite a bit more dangerous to the caped community and the Batfam encompasses a few people it might not have otherwise. I think it would be funnier if Batman was not aware of his family's cryptid status (It never occurs to him that his kids have never been invited to join any of the younger generation teams).

Something sparks a partial return of Raven’s, now around 14 or 15, memory, enough for Rachel (who is the current Robin) to realize she is Raven. At her request, Batman announces this at a meeting and her intention to remain Dick’s daughter and Bruce’s granddaughter.  The JL react confusingly (they are all losing their collective minds at the thought that Batman has kids AND grandkids).  His response that one of his sons made him a grandfather when the boy was 14 does not inspire confidence.  Eventually, and I do mean this takes ages, it leads to the entire Batfam coming up to the Watchtower.  In spite of the masks Barry recognizes Bart, and after a moment the Wonder’s also recognize Cassie. Both had been desperately missed (the feelings of abandonment had been a misunderstanding).  Though the Wonder’s and the Speedsters both try to hug their missing members, it becomes clear that you can pry them from their mother, Tim, introduced as Red Robin, only when Red Robin is dead. 

The Speedsters look at each other, shrug, and immediately start lobbying Red Robin for Visitation (it does not matter that Tim’s kids are all adults with their own lives in Gotham). The Wonders do not have a chance to do the same as Connor, code name Agent C (he decided he did not want to be a field Vigilante, instead he has taken on a support role, like Alfred, where he is their Mechanic/Mechanical Engineer), drops the bomb that he is a Clone of Superman and Lex Luthor (Connor had not been told enough by the scientists at CADMUS to know what was going on, or even if Lex was aware his DNA was being used but of course the Bats did a DNA, he didn’t even know what the lab was called or where to find it).

Superman does make the connection to CADMUS labs, which he had shut down a few years earlier-though he never put those reports in the Watchtower computers as he considered it an internal matter (Batman would like it noted that all of the Batfam reports end up in the watchtower computer and is irritated that the other heroes do not do the same). 

Connor had been the only ‘viable’ clone but all the records (whether viable or not) had been stamped with ‘failure’, so Superman had not known that there should be a clone of him out there somewhere.  Also the intervening years of being able to process, ‘hey this person I knew, and was once friends with, stole my genetic material to try and create a new person without my consent or knowledge’ without having to deal with the results of said actions (Compounded by the guilt of not being able to look at this miniature version of himself without making the connection to his enemy Lex and his violation, knowing intellectually that it was not Connors fault for being created or that Connor was created specifically to be a weapon against Superman, but still not able move on emotionally, not enough to be responsible for a child) added to the fact that it is pretty clear that Superman does not need to be responsible for Connor means that superman can verify that Connor is happy where he is, which he is. Then Superman can, with a clear conscience-since Batman is undeniably paranoid enough to have a plan if Connor becomes a villain or an actual problem, offer to help with unexpected powers and have Connor meet the rest of his family. 

So Red Robin is simultaneously mediating the reunion between his three children and their other families, all the while ready to take down a Cape that breathes wrong in their direction. 

Red Hood, sans helmet but with a mask, is creatively and rhythmically cursing Green Arrow out on behalf of Roy (I want you to picture a Red Hood that practices and excels in the art of Flyting).  Green Arrow had made an immediate, and poorly phrased, inquiry into Roy sobriety.  Roy has been sober for almost 3 years. 

Damian, codename Firebird, is critiquing several of the last major fights and their fighters while having a discussion about blades and underwater fighting with the Aqua family.  He is also keeping a protective eye on Nightwing and Robin, who are facing off against JLD (who would like to see if what happened to Raven is reversible-mostly to make sure she is healthy and whatever happened is stable, Nightwing and Robin are taking it to mean they want Raven back instead of Robin). 

Steph as Spoiler, Cass as Black Bat, and Duke as Orphan are explaining to a largely horrified audience of former Titans the complicated legacy of the Batman, Robin, and Batgirl names in Gotham (The current Batgirl, Helen Wayne-12 year old daughter of Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne- is standing with Bruce and Alfred-mask firmly in place. She is new to the name and this is her first mission outside of Gotham). It is at this point that the Justice League finds out that there are a number of times when the Batman they dealt with was NOT the same person. Someone also brings up the rumor that Batman is actually a haunted piece of clothing, to the entire BatFams bemusement.

At no point during this process does anyone in the Batfam reveal their civilian identities (save the ones that are now known, like Bart, Cassie, and Roy).  They also do not admit to the fact that every single one of them steals and impersonates each other frequently (Tim holds the honor of having patrolled, handled an Arkham breakout, and met with someone outside of Gotham, and handled a world wide invasion in every vigilante identity from Gotham successfully).  

It also should be noted that this does not provide clarity to the Justice League about any topic regarding Gotham or its vigilantes.

[xenosagaepisodeone]

back in the 2000s when people would enact pseuicide (exactly what it sounds like), it was largely as a form of ego-defense. while it was sometimes elicited as a response to actual harassment, the lower stakes nature of interaction on the old net made it as common a play in disagreements as telling someone to kill themselves. a lot of the time, the user in question was unwilling to concede their position in some particular discourse or their status/power in a particular community, but was also left dissonant by the fact that they had no unilateral control over how others saw them, or how others felt. a pseuicide would in this case allow the user to retract an internet persona that had been turned into a pathway way for the ego to be damaged by others while also preserving as much of it's integrity as possible by allowing the purported death to frame them as forever the victim of their interaction with their opps (with of course the intentional added effect of inflicting psychological anguish on them by making them believe they contributed to a suicide). the user would then rebrand under a different account and then rebuild their posting empire, completing the cycle of the pseuicide.

there's a reason why the term 'psueicide' has fallen out of vogue beyond the fact that it is a cruel way to regard the potential suicide of someone online. the deanonymization and userbase-fostered hypersurveillance of the modern net has done away with the low-stakes interactions of aughts forums that made it easy to just say "I'm going to kill myself" to a bunch of formless usernames; on top of just making it very difficult to disappear in general. how many people have you seen abandon their social media handles due to drama, harassment or stress, only to be found under a new persona a week later? you can scrub the internet of as much of your posting presence as you want, but you're going to have a harder time preventing friends, family and even strangers who happen upon you conceal details of your present status just by virtue of how normal it is to involve so much of how you spend real life in what you post online. the modern spectacle of posting makes most user's actions a new development in the narrative arc of their social media presence, and a suicide attempt (real or otherwise) will be milked for entertainment in accordance with such before it is examined for sympathy or used as a means of self-relfection.

you may think this post is about james somerton now that the news has come out that he is thankfully fine, but it's actually not! admittedly though, his attempted rebranding got me thinking about a few things, ultimately leading up to the thought "ah, you really can't say that you will kill yourself online like you used to.". where do you go when nuking everything and starting over is barely an option? well, outside I guess. perhaps to the woods.

[high-voltage-rat]

Actually I'm still thinking about it. Another interesting way in which RvB is anti-war is the way that the Director fills the role of a villain and antagonist (especially in the Recollections trilogy, where he's a faceless villain we never see but is responsible for everything that happens).

In his memos to the Chairman, the Director emphasizes his sense of duty and obligation to the military- he becomes irate for the first time when he feels that it's being implied that he was derelict in his duty... or that the work he did out of that duty is being criticized for being against the military's interests. He also talks about Allison's death in a way I find... interesting.

"You see; I never had the chance to serve in battle. Nor did fate provide me the opportunity to sacrifice myself for humanity as it did for so many others in the Great War. Someone extremely dear to me was lost very early in my life. My mind has always plagued me with the question: If the choice had been placed in my hands, could I have saved her? [...] But, given the events of these past few weeks, I feel confident that had I been given the chance, I would have made those sacrifices myself... Had I only the chance."

The idea of sacrifice is central to the way he talks about his wife's loss, to the way he talks about the war in general. He talks of sacrifice with a sense of veneration- that it's something he aspires to do, that he longs for. There's a few ways we can interpret "I would have made those sacrifices myself"...

-That in Allison's place, he thinks he would have laid down his life too.

-That if given the chance, he would have given his life to save hers.

But most interestingly...

-That he would have sacrificed Allison's life for the continued survival of humanity, if that was what duty called for.

...And personally, I think all 3 are true.

In most war media, the Director's perspective on sacrifice is very common. Sacrifice is glorious and heroic- to die in battle is an honour- and it's the only way to ensure the group you serve survives. This is a tool of propaganda- nobody wants to go to war just for the sake of it, you have to give them a reason that the risk of dying or being permanently disabled isn't just acceptable, but desirable. Beyond that, most people don't want to do things they think are immoral- you have to convince them it's important, a necessary lesser evil. You teach them to sacrifice their morals, too.

The way they train soldiers to follow orders and to kill, is to convince them that they, and the people around them, and the people they care about, will all die if they don't. It's drilled into your head from day one. It's the way they ensure their commanding officers won't shy away from sending their men off to die. The message is constant- sacrifice is your duty, and duty ensures your people's survival.

In the Director's eyes, the damage Project Freelancer caused was his sacrifice. He never got the opportunity to sacrifice himself during the war- so he sacrificed others, as military brass do. The Freelancers- including his daughter. The countless sim troopers. Any people he considered "collateral damage" on missions. And when the opportunity to do so presented itself, he sacrificed a copy of himself- Alpha- and he sacrificed a copy of Allison- Tex.

The very thing that derailed his life- the loss of his wife- he made it happen again. He put her copy in dangerous situations, let her exist in the position of constant repeated failure, created the circumstances that would eventually lead to her death. He put their daughter in deadly situations that nearly killed her repeatedly, provided her with impossible expectations leading to self-destructive behaviours in the name of duty, implanted her with two AI knowing they could cause her permanent harm. He was confident he "would have made those sacrifices himself" because he did.

The Director is the embodiment of the military war machine. As an antagonist, he is a warning against buying into the glorification of sacrifice. He's a condemnation of the idea that one should be willing to do anything to win a war- that duty to the military is the thing that ensures survival... All the messages that are pushed to ensure recruitment and obedience of soldiers.

He's a reminder that swallowing the propaganda leads to you doing terrible things... and in the end, you're a broken man left mourning the losses that you suffered even as you repeated them, convinced that it was all necessary.

[soullessjack]

actually i think Jack’s whole psychotic meltdown after killing Mary makes a lot more sense when you remember that this was one of his worst fears:

i don’t have the exact scripts but suffice it to say, this is not the first time michael has insinuated that jack is his only equal/match/rival in terms of power, and it’s also not the first time he’s insinuated that jack would simply outgrow his sense of humanity and turn on everyone that he’s claimed as family; the fact that jack is even human to begin with is more or less a glitch in the system to all other angels. it’s “just a phase.”

and then on Jack’s response, all it says is that he doesn’t want to admit it could be possible. i feel like in most other scenarios like this, where the Hero has some connection to the Villain that’s used against them, the Hero usually just dispels the Villain’s claim of connection with some easy shit like “you’re wrong! i have confidence in myself to stay by my friend’s sides forever!” the villain is then defeated and the hero’s connection to them (and all that implies) is never brought up again. but here, with jack and michael, jack is clearly doubtful of his own humanity—I mean, he has been for a while, he’s just afraid to admit it to anyone because it holds too much risk of losing everyone he cares about.

jack has pretty much dedicated his life to proving that he isn’t evil, that he is trustworthy and safe and that he isn’t like Lucifer. however, while he and Mary are in apocalypse world you also get the sense that he now has to prove he isn’t like Michael—despite them being equals. but his dedication and determination are very much rooted in/responsive to fear, not just of losing everyone he loves, but for his True Nature to ultimately be evil and of his father.

so, of course killing his mother figure causes jack to spiral out of control and into psychosis, because he hardly understands what’s happened—he’s literally debating whether or not he intended to kill Mary while at Rowena’s flat—and he’s very jarringly faced with the potential reality that he had finally lost humanity and turned on everyone just as Michael had said.

and despite his literal subconscious telling jack that he’s as good as fucked, he can’t come back from this and he can’t call the Winchesters or the Bunker his home ever again, he obsessively tries to fix it and desperately denies that he could have actually wanted Mary dead or intentionally hurt her (remember he tells Rowena he just wanted her to “be quiet”) because how is he ever supposed to be seen as trustworthy again after possibly-deliberately hurting Mary (and later with Duma, the “nonbelievers”) when the entire reason he wasn’t trusted to begin with was the fact that everybody saw him as something dangerous/truly evil and merely choosing not to act on his true nature, and now if he can’t fix it, then he’s inevitably back in the pigeonhole of a dangerous monster, and Michael was right.