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agustdakasuga · 4 years

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Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 6

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

The boys patiently waited for you to give them an answer. Were you really going to leave like nothing happened? Or bite the bullet and continue, possibly putting your life at risk?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

The next morning, you sat up in bed. You went to bed rather late last night, even after the dinner ended. It was hard to fall asleep like normal. In the end, you decided to head into your office again to try and make yourself sleepy like the night before.

Kookie just sat there obediently, being a nice, quiet companion. There was a knock on the door, making your head shoot up from your book. You hummed and the door opened, a head poking through.

“Hey.” You smiled softly.

“I was passing by and saw your office lights on. Can’t sleep?” He came in with a tray. You shook your head.

“I brought some hot chocolate. Mind if I join you?” He asked. You repeated your action, gesturing to the chair on the other side of your desk. Placing the tray with the two mugs down, he took a seat. He held out one of the mugs to you. You graciously took it into your hands, enjoying the warm, sweet beverage before resting it on your lap.

“Ah, Kookie, don’t do that.” You pulled him away as he started to nibble on the corner of your book.

“I still can’t believe you and Jungkook got this fella together on a whim.” He chuckled, crossing his legs as he sipped from his own mug. You smiled softly, stroking Kookie’s ear.

“I still can’t believe I let Jungkook name him Kookie.” You snorted.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“My wrist is fine. It’s not even a strain, just a little bruised. I’m just as human as you, I get hurt too.” You joked. He smiled at your response.

“I know. But that’s not what I was referring to. I was talking more... mentally and emotionally. I guess we were all shocked because these things happen to us on a daily basis... So we never thought how much it would affect you or anyone else.” He confessed.

“I was shaken. But... I’ll get over it.” You looked away.

“It’s okay to be scared, (y/n).” He said softly, not in a teasing way. His voice was laced with patience and understanding.

“Do you want me to stay?” You asked randomly.

“You and I both know that it doesn’t matter what I want or what the others want.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing that you were just deflecting. You shrugged, chewing on your bottom lip like a pouty child.

“We’re still shocked you haven’t left. We thought you’d just pack and leave the moment you got home.” He confessed.

“Well, I’m not exactly one to make impulsive decisions. I usually put more thought into it. Every decision is important to me. Whatever the outcome is... affects me and the clients I work with.” You rolled your eyes slightly. The male gave you an amused look, laughing and raising his mug in agreement. After the drinks were done, you separated to head to bed.

“Thanks.” You saluted before parting ways with him, a sleeping Kookie curled up in your arms.

You rolled around your sheets for a while before getting up. Going to open the curtains, you saw Jimin in the backyard, swinging a wooden bokken around, hitting a plastic dummy.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You cleared your throat. Jungkook appeared, yawning and rubbing his eyes, half asleep. Without a word, you watched as he dove into bed.

“Jungkook?” You called out.

“Shhh, hyungs are too naggy. You never saw me.” He mumbled into your pillow, slowly falling asleep again. You sighed with a shake of the head, this was the real side of the boys. You went into the bathroom to wash up and change. Jungkook was snoring softly when you came back out.

“Good morning, Kookie.” You whispered. Kookie’s ear twitched before hopping over to sniff your finger.

“Hungry?” You asked. He merely turned around and huddled back in his corner. You scoffed, standing back up to fill his food bowl anyway and change his water. Jungkook and Kookie remained asleep.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Coming.” You stood up and went to open your door. Namjoon stood there with a displeased look on his face.

“He’s there... isn’t he?” He sighed.

“Uhh...” You turned around to see Jungkook still fast asleep.

“I have no idea who you’re referring to.” You smiled innocently. Namjoon squinted his eyes, obviously not convinced by your act. He tilted his head, trying to peak into the room but you just stepped to the side to cover his view of the youngest, passed out in your bed. You crossed your arms, raising your eyebrow at him.

“I can tell you’re not going to have a problem integrating into the family then. I’ll look for Jungkook somewhere else. Thanks, doc.” He gave you a lazy wave and walked away. You closed the door.

“Jeon Jungkook, get up. Go to your own bed.” You crossed your arms.

“No.” He replied, pulling the blanket over his head. You tugged the blanket away from him, making him whine.

“Why are you even here? I’m sure your room is much bigger and your bed is much more comfortable than mine.” You shook your head. Jungkook buried his face further into the pillow.

“Because hyungs keep nagging me to do things. And now you are doing the same.” He mumbled. Well, his profile did say he was the hardest to wake up.

“I’m going. Don’t snoop.” You threatened and grabbed your things, leaving your bedroom. You went to make your morning coffee and sat down in the dining room. It was just Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok and a sweaty Jimin. They all acknowledged your presence in their own ways.

“How was your sleep?” Hoseok asked.

“It was fine.” You shrugged, dipping your toast into your running eggs. The breakfast was rather silent, with only occasional conversation being passed between the boys.

“Namjoon, may I speak with you later?” You cleared your throat.

“Of course.” He nodded. Jimin cast you an uneasy glance before side eyeing Namjoon, who nonchalantly continued to eat his food.

“(y/n), you forgot to bring Kookie down. And by the way, you’re wrong, your bed is nicer than mine.” Jungkook came in, stretching his arms. He yawned, placing Kookie down before taking a seat.

“What?!” Hoseok and Jimin yelped. Even Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly at Jungkook’s comment.

“Liar.” Namjoon coughed.

“I was held against my will, Namjoon.” You smiled innocently. Namjoon chuckled with a shake of his head. Jungkook lazily dug into his breakfast. The other 3 at the table were still stunned at Jungkook confessing that he slept in your bed and you being okay with that. It also seemed that Namjoon was in the know of it.

“You... you...” Jimin pointed at Jungkook than you.

“Oh, hell no! Get your brain out of the gutter. I’ll have you know, I am a woman of principles. I’m insulted you would even assume such a thing, Jimin.” You glared at him.

“Then why was Jungkook in your bed?” Yoongi asked.

“Escaping you guys to get a couple more minutes of sleep.” You revealed and Jungkook choked on his food.

“Hey! You didn’t have to go exposing me!”

“Well, that��s what you get for making it sound like we slept together. I’m not having my morals questioned because of you.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. Jungkook shot you an offended look.

“Yoongles, I’ll see you in the clinic after I speak to Namjoon?” You tilted your head. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Alright, alright. Geez, I know you’re excited but calm down.” You waved him off. The others stifled a laugh. Yoongi would never admit that he only lets you play around with him like that. Anyone else would definitely get a bullet to the head if they tried to tease him like you.

“Shall we?” Namjoon wiped his mouth, standing up. You nodded your head.

“Do I have to sing how we’re off to see the wizard?” You blinked. Namjoon chuckled at your ‘Wizard of Oz’ reference. You walked out with him and headed to his office.

“I’m guessing you would like to discuss whether you will continue working here with us or not?” Namjoon asked as he sat down.

“Is there any other reason I should be coming?” You raised your eyebrows as you sat down.

“I will never know if you think I need a psychiatric assessment or intervention so I was just making sure.” Namjoon chuckled with a shrug. You laughed, Namjoon would probably be the last person in the house that needs an ‘intervention’. Namjoon was someone you knew was serious but he always played along with your sarcastic jokes.

“I’ll stay, at least until my contract ends.” You spoke, getting to the actual reason why you were sitting in his office.

“Right... Here, you might need this then.” Namjoon nodded, taking a box out from his drawer and sliding it over to you. You didn’t even open it.

“A gift? That was quick.” You scoffed.

“Just take it. It’s actually more important than you think.” Namjoon said, a smile on his face. You nodded, placing the box in your lap, you’ll open it later when you’re alone.

“I heard Jungkook say you’ll be busy friday night?”

“I knew that little bunny was eavesdropping... But yeah, just a little family thing I can’t really escape from. I can trust you guys not to get killed while I’m not around, right?” You crossed your arms.

“Maybe not killed but gravely injured... I’m not making any promises.” Namjoon mused.

“Well, as long as you lot don’t die before I get back, you can get as gravely injured as you’d like. Who knows, it may be more fun for me than you’d think.” You chuckled. Standing up, you turned to get ready to leave Namjoon when he spoke from behind you.

“So what made your decision?”

“Let’s just say some late night hot cocoa is good to clear your mind.” You said briefly, remembering what happened in your office last night with your mysterious person.

“I see... Have a good day, doc.” Namjoon wished. You smiled, giving him a backwards wave before leaving.

“Yoonie~” You hummed as you entered the office. Yoongi was already sitting on the therapy bed, looking at his finger nail with a bored expression.

“So, any pain from our last session?” You asked.

“No.” He replied, letting you help him unstrap the bulky cast form his body. You nodded your head. Yoongi’s condition was improving rather quickly. He was quite the compliant patient. You started the physiotherapy session with him, noting down the improvements that you observed. Yoongi also didn’t seem to be in as much pain.

“Are you staying?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” You asked, scribbling down on your notepad.

“You know what I mean...”

“If you’re referring to whether I’ll still be working here, then yes. I told Namjoon that I’ll work at least until the end of my contract. Besides, it may prove to be a new experience working here.” You shrugged.

“Don’t regret it.” Yoongi sighed.

“Aww, are you worrying about me? Don’t worry, Yoonie. I know you would have missed me if I left.” You wiped a fake tear, making Yoongi give you a weird look.

“It’s not easy working for this family, (y/n). We face death and danger every day. I want you to take this seriously. It’s not a joke. You could seriously get hurt. You should seriously consider it before making any decision. It’s only going to get harder as the days pass.” Yoongi frowned.

“I am taking it seriously, Yoongi. What you saw the other night... it was just a moment of shock. I’ve mentally prepared myself.” You stared straight into his eyes with a firm voice.

“Okay. It’s your decision.” Yoongi nodded.

“Anyway, you don’t have you wear your sling 24/7 anymore. You can take it out for short periods of time. But you still shouldn’t be using your shoulder as normal and you should wear it to sleep.” You informed.

“Right...”

“Soon, you’ll be able to get rid of it entirely.” You gave a small, comforting smile. Yoongi nodded as you helped him put the sling on.

“Bye~” You hummed as Yoongi left wordlessly. You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair, scrolling through your emails. There were still forwarded emails from your parents.

“Delete.” You scoffed, dragging the pile to the trash.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You sat up. Taehyung walked in, using the back of his hand to rub his cheek. He shut the door behind him and walked past you without another glance. Settling on the bed that Yoongi sat on earlier, Taehyung proceeded to lie down with his back facing you. You blinked at his sudden, wordless entrance but shrugged, continuing to do your work.

“Taehyung?” You called out, typing away. He let out a soft hum from his spot.

“Are you injured?” You asked.

“...No..” He replied after much contemplation. Sighing, you stood up from your chair and headed over to him.

“Taehyung, you’re bleeding. And you say you’re not injured. Hold on a sec.” You saw the smudged blood on his temple. Just as you were about to turn away to get the first aid kit, he grabbed your wrist.

“It’s not my blood...” Taehyung said softly.

“O-Oh.” Was all you could say. Taking your wrist out of his grip, you went to sit in your chair, continuing to do whatever was on your computer screen.

“I forgot about this.” You looked at your desk and saw the box that Namjoon gave earlier. You cast a glance at Taehyung’s back before opening the box. Your eyes widened slightly as you stared at the chain bracelet with a pink diamond charm and a wing charm.

“It’s for you to wear.” Taehyung spoke. Your head shot up and you saw him sitting on the bed, swinging his legs back and forth.

“Here.” He hopped off, taking the bracelet and clasping it around your wrist. You were a little stunned by his actions but just blinked at the new weight around your wrist.

“Don’t take it off...” He whispered. You nodded your head, still staring at the bracelet.

“Why?”

“I have to go for a meeting.” Taehyung looked up from his phone, tucking it into his back pocket before leaving and heading out of the office without answering your question. You sighed, lifting your wrist up and jingling it. You stood up and walked to the big window in your office. Jimin and Jungkook were in the backyard, sparring one another.

“(y/n)?” A voice called and you turned around to see Hoseok standing there with a small smile on his face.

“Namjoon told me to pass these to you?” He held a stack of files out to you. You nodded, waving for him to come in. As he placed them on the desk for you to go through, he sat down.

“New profiles?” You raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a little bit more truth in them.” Hoseok shrugged. You nodded slowly, going through the profiles. He was right, there was a little more “truth” in them.

“Come, I’ll give you a full tour of the house.” Hoseok said excitedly, shutting the folders before you could read them all. You chuckled, following him out of your office. With your hands tucked into your lab coat pockets, you followed Jin into the other wing of the house.

“Business people come through here. The entrance you came through is only for residents of the house. We don’t want different groups of people mixing.” Hoseok showed you a smaller foyer.

“I see.” You nodded.

“You’ve been to Namjoon’s office. But the rest of our offices are also in the same general area. He showed you the conference room on the top floor.

“This is our main conference room. The others are downstairs. These are used for our own people, between the other 6 boys and I. Meetings with outsider clients usually take place in our offices.” He explained.

“There shouldn’t be a need to come to this wing, except for medical injuries.” Hoseok chuckled.

“Yes, this isn’t a place I would like to wander in my free time either.” You rolled your eyes. He threw his head back in laughter.

“Let’s head back then.”

“Doc?” Jin came in. You looked up from your computer.

“I was gone the whole day but Namjoon told me to good news!” He grinned, closing the door behind him.

“Is it really good news?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it is to me! Which is why, I insisted on having a celebration tonight! To celebrate you joining the family.” Jin held your hands and pulled you up from your seat, despite your protests. He brought you out of your office and into the dining room. The other 6 were already sitting there, waiting for you patiently with glasses of wine.

“Hey.” You lifted a hand to greet them.

“(y/n)!” Jimin cheered, pushing you to sit down by your shoulders. You blinked at them. Yoongi even had a smile of amusement on his face.

“Wine?” Jungkook offered. You would have said no but considering they were having this ‘celebratory dinner’ for you, it would be rude of you to decline.

“Sure. Thank you.” You sighed but nodded your head. Jungkook shot you a bunny smile before pouring some wine into your glass. You clinked glasses with all of them.

“Welcome to the family.” Namjoon smiled.

“Thanks?” You were unsure of what to say. After all, you were still here as an employee under them.

“It’s going to be a wild ride. Things won’t be normal anymore.” Yoongi added, sipping his wine, as the staff served the food. You nodded your head, poking your steak.

“No need to scare her further, Yoongi. She’s already proven her strength and made her decision. Let the girl breathe for a while.” Jin chided softly, making Yoongi grunt in annoyance. You knew he wasn’t trying to scare you, he was merely warning you.

That night, you were sitting under the gazebo, relaxing and enjoying the night breeze. Jimin laid on the seat opposite you, just like the first night that you came to the house.

“Scared?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“It’s okay to be scared, (y/n). I’m sure we all were, at some point, when we first joined.” Jimin shrugged. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Only Namjoon hyung and Yoongi hyung were the original members of the family. The rest of us were recruited by them. But I guess you will find out each person’s individual story from them.” He chuckled.

“What’s yours?” You asked.

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈 (June is Pride Month where I am 😊) For the occasion, may I recommend this animated musical short, 秘密港 Safe Haven, by the Beijing Queer Chorus (北京酷兒合唱團)? Published on the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia (IDAHOBIT; May 17th, 2021), the animation, with its lovely (and at times, heartbreaking) song, is about a queer person and their friend who tries to offer their support. The lyrics is English-subbed.

(Below the cut: a wish for the c-queer community; conception of Safe Haven, as explained by the Beijing Queer Chorus; CW/TW for homophobia, violence and forced abortion)

Background for my wish: with the recent Chinese government’s aggressive turnaround in its population control policy to combat its declining birth rate—on 2021/05/31, China further lifted the cap of number of children allowed per couple from 2 to 3 (the number was 1 for almost four decades, 1978-2015; the population control measure has therefore been colloquially called the “One Child Policy”), younger generations of Chinese are already feeling the pressure and fearing the consequences of non-compliance (for example, if the state levies heavy fines on non-child-bearers).

While I have not yet read articles that directly connect the major policy shift with the c-queer community, I imagine it may bring both relief and additional challenges. The relief will likely take time to come; the challenges, meanwhile, will likely be immediate.

This has to do with the root of antagonism against homosexuality in Chinese societies. Unlike in their Western counterparts, Chinese queers have consistently reported that family, instead of societal, pressure as the greatest challenge they face (societal pressure includes that from religion, from government etc). C-queers are expected to abide to the heteronormative traditions of opposite-sex marriage and child-bearing, in a collectivistic, conformist environment still strongly influenced by the Confucian notion that continuing the bloodline is the primary responsibility of a filial child. Men, especially, are under heavy pressure to carry on their family surname. Those who fail to do so are seen as irresponsible at best, moral failures at worst. They suffer anything and everything from constant nagging from their relatives, to ostracisation, to disownment.

A better known consequence of this cultural antagonism against homosexuality in the tragic Tongqi (同妻 “homo-wives”) phenomenon that is, perhaps, unique to China.

Tongqi are straight women who unknowingly entered marriage with closeted gay man, who often learn about their spouse’s sexuality only after the filial obligation of having children has been fulfilled. It’s a form of marriage fraud; women who file for divorce, however, are likely to lose custody of their child(ren) under Chinese laws, and so many of them keep mum. The gay men involved are also victims in many cases; the lack of public, open education and discussion of queer topics in the country mean even the queers themselves may not have a full understanding of their own queerness, believe that “straightening” themselves is something they can do with sufficient willpower and love for their family.

As one may expect, these marriages are mostly unsatisfying; psychiatric issues and intimate partner violence (IPV), which include verbal, emotional and physical abuse, have also been frequently reported. Just how prevalent are Tongqi’s in China that, in turn, reflect how many gay men in China are pressured to remain in the closet and get married? The following numbers may serve as comparison. In 2010, the percentage of gay men married to heterosexual women in the US was 15-25%. In China and in 2018, meanwhile, the reowned Chinese sexologist, sociologist and LGBT rights activist, Li Yinhe (李銀河), quoted an estimate of 80% of China’s ~ 20 million gay men were married to heterosexual wives; i.e. the Tongqi population amounted to ~16 million. Literature has reported a similar estimated size of the Tongqi population—at 13+ million, in 2016.

(Reason for the numbers being estimates: the exact size of the c-queer community isn’t known. China’s decennial census questionnaire from late last year (2020) once again excluded questions about its own LGBT+ community. "Room mate” is how many c-queers have to refer to their partners).

While the Chinese government decriminalised homosexuality in 1997 and its current laws carry no clauses that target the queer community—the official stance of Chinese government on homosexuality is currently 不支持，不反對，不提倡 “not supporting, not opposing, not advocating”—what may seem to be its non-queer-related policies have indirectly but majorly impacted the lives of c-queers. In particular, the “One Child Policy” has been hypothesised to exacerbate the challenge faced by c-queers, as the only child becomes the sole “next generation” available for producing grandchildren and extending the family bloodline.

Hence, my expectation / hope that the relaxation of "One Child Policy”, by lifting the cap on the number of children a couple can have, will bring relief to the LGBT+ population—even if the relief will only come years down the road, as the newer generations of c-queers will then have siblings to share their filial responsibilities.

However, this also explains my worry for now, for the immediate months and years to come, for not only c-queers but the younger generations of Chinese in general. My worry is about how, exactly, the state intends to drive its birth rate upward, and the hardship the new policies may bring.

The practices of China’s population control policies have historically been brutal. Forced, late-term abortions were common, for example. This is reflected in the country’s birth control propaganda banners, commonly seen in Chinese villages until late 2000s, which were infamous for their verbal violence:

“Beat it out! Abort it! Miscarry it! Just cannot give birth to it!”

Fines, which were levied on offenders of the One Child Policy, may seem like a better option but can place an unbearable burden on poorer families, of which there remain many in China. Premier Li Keqiang reported, in May 2020, that >40% of China’s population—600 million—are living with a monthly income of ~$140 USD or below, despite the glitz often seen in the country’s entertainment productions. Using One Child Policy era fines for reference, the famous Chinese director 張藝謀 Zhang Yimou was fined 7.48 million RMB (~$1.17 million USD) for his three children, in 2013. Defying the new population control policies may therefore be a privilege reserved for the very powerful and very rich. And the government is likely to be aggressive in enforcing its new policies—the social media accounts of > 20 feminist activists, who advocate for reproductive freedom among other women’s rights, have already been shut down in the recent weeks.

Will the Chinese government find ways to penalise members of the queer community who do not contribute to the new baby count? Will it turn a blind(er) eye to the Tongqi 同妻 (and to a lesser extent, Tongfu 同夫 ~ heterosexual men married to lesbian women) tragedies happening every day? It’s impossible to say yet.

For this year, therefore, I wish the c-queer community this—I wish it to be safe from the reach of China’s population control policies, whatever they will be.

Back to the animated short, Safe Haven, which is about coming out. In 2016, a 18,000 people survey by the United Nations Development Programme reported only 5% of Chinese queers had come out to people outside their families. Only 15% have come out to their families. A more recent survey reports a significant improvement in these percentages, with ~50% of gays, bisexuals and transgenders and 70% of lesbians having come out to their families (Table 2). Fully out queers remain rare (<10%).

There’s still, therefore, a long way to go. With queers often being out (if they’re out at all) only to their most immediate/intimate social circles, with the state’s censorship of LGBT+ presentation in visual media, many (especially older generations of) non-queers in China haven’t seen a living, breathing, outwardly queer person before. The process of coming out, by extension—what it means, what it takes for both the giver and receiver of the message—may have never entered the thoughts of these non-queers before.

What should they say? What should they do? What words and actions will convey support? What won’t?

Safe Haven is about these questions. I’ll end this post with a translation of the Weibo post in which the animated short was first published, in which Beijing Queer Chorus explained the project’s conception:

#517 IDAHOBIT# Do you remember how it was like, the first time you came out of the closet, or someone came out of the closet to you? Who was that person? What did you say at the time, and how did that person react?

The person who voluntarily exposes their heart requires courage. The person who receives the message may have their own heart filled with unease.

Maybe, both are thinking: “What should I do?”

Coming out is such an important occasion. It can, perhaps, change a relationship forever.

Some will welcome warmth and hugs. Some others will get their first taste of homophobia. Yet some others will find neither.

After a queer person came out to their friend, they got, in return, “Don’t worry. I’ll still treat you as a friend.” It made them uncomfortable for a long time. But their straight family and friends didn’t understand. How could this be not a kind thing to say?

What is gay-friendly? What is homophobic? It appears that everyone has their own standards. The same words and behaviours transmit warmth to some, deep offence to others.

So, when we’re talking about “homophobia”, what are we talking about?

To commemorate this years #517 IDAHOBIT#, the Beijing Queer Chorus interviewed its tens of members and their relatives and friends, in hopes of investigating the difference in perspectives between homosexuals and straight people. How can this barrier be crossed, how can they work together to take care of the valuable relationships.

In the stories of all interviewees, a warmth like this can be felt: even with the risks, there remain those who are brave enough to display their true self; even with the misunderstandings, there remain those willing to keep the secrets of others, willing to learn to understand a whole new world.

We condensed these stories into an original, animated musical short, Safe Haven.

We hope every boat riding the winds and waves can find a harbour to unload their secrets. We also hope every person has enough gentle strength to be the safe haven for others.

We offer our best wishes to every queer who lets their heart be seen ~ may your courage reap its rewards.

We thank every friend and family who have treated these hidden matters of the heart seriously. You make the world a better place.

#pie metas #lgbt #pride 2021

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linkspooky · 4 years

Text

Repress Your Feelings, Girl.

Toga and Uraraka can’t understand each other: because Toga can’t explain herself properly, and Uraraka doesn’t really want to understand. However, there’s also a narrative reason behind why these two characters are fighting each other. It has nothing to do with morality, good or bad, hero or villain, but rather the writing of the characters themselves. Toga Himiko and Uraraka are foils, two sides of the same coin meant to reflect each other. They are essentially (in narrative terms at least) the same person, just both of them expressing different sides of themselves. Uraraka Ochako represses, and Himiko Toga expresses herself, more on their foiling underneath the cut.

Before I start out I just wanted to point out a few of the deliberate paralels the narrative draws between the two characters. First, the girls come from completely opposite circumstances.

Uraraka comes from a poor family, whereas Toga comes from what seems to be a wealthy household, considering there’a a gate in front of their door.

Typically Himiko would be the privileged one, but the narrative inverts this. Uraraka grows up in a household where her identity is affirmed by her parents no matter what. Himiko grows up in a household where she is constantly told she is wrong by her parents.

Ochako is continually accepted for who she is, and Toga is told not to be herself, not only suffering parental abuse, but also psychiatric abuse on top of that.

One more way in which they are opposites, Ochako is someone who tends to be sheltered (her parents did her best to hide the fact they were suffering from her because she didn’t want her to feel guitly about it, however it produced the opposite effect, Uraraka got better at reading the faces of people and noticing their suffering.)

Himiko on the other hand has grown up very unsheltered, she’s been on her own since middle school. There’s several hints she’s been exposed to the ugliest side of people already and spends her life running away from them and keeping herself safe from them.

Himiko and Uraraka are both incredibly good at reading other people, but they developed this ability for opposite reasons. Uraraka who was sheltered noticed the pain her parents tried to hide from her and developed it compassionately, and Himiko who has been on the run for most of her life developed it as a method of survival. However, that doesn’t mean that Himiko is lacking compassion, or Uraraka always empathizes with everyone she meets, because both of them are complex individuals.

Himiko is capable of empathizing with other people, not only that but she’s grown significantly out of her shell and learned that other people besides her have needs, feelings she needs to take care of, to the point where she’s stopped prioritizing herself first in all circumstances. On the other hand, Uraraka is just as capable of shutting her feelings down and ignoring the viewpoints of other people she finds disagreeable with her own.

Uraraka and Toga are also both extremely social people, however all of Uraraka’s friends accept her for who she is. Deku knows Uraraka so well that he can tell when Toga, pretending to be Camie, is the one replacing her. Toga is someone who like Uraraka was always at the center of a group of friends tying her together. However, Toga could only present her fake self in front of them.

1. The Repressed

Jung divides the self into three, the shadow, the persona, and then the ego (self) which is made of a combination of the former too.

Persona

The persona is how we present ourselves to the world. The word "persona" is derived from a Latin word that literally means "mask." It is not a literal mask, however.

The persona represents all of the different social masks that we wear among various groups and situations. It acts to shield the ego from negative images. According to Jung, the persona may appear in dreams and take different forms. [source]

Shadow

The shadow is an archetype that consists of the sex and life instincts. The shadow exists as part of the unconscious mind and is composed of repressed ideas, weaknesses, desires, instincts, and shortcomings.

The shadow forms out of our attempts to adapt to cultural norms and expectations. It is this archetype that contains all of the things that are unacceptable not only to society, but also to one's own personal morals and values. [source]

My Hero Academia uses Jungian Symbolism, especially in regards to Himiko and Uraraka’s characters, this isn’t something I made up it’s directly in the text. Toga’s act of repression is literally called: wearing a mask.

Toga and Uraraka are written to contrast each other on which part of themselves they present to the world. Uraraka is extremely conscious of other people’s expectations of her, so she plays up her persona. Uraraka is someone who is always putting up a show for others because she knows how they perceive her.

Her own perceptiveness works against her, because while she loves seeing people happy the most she also can’t stand to see them in pain, or even be the reason why they’re in pain. Uraraka’s solution to this is a rather immature one, she believes if she’s good all the time, if she’s always this pleasant and happy person and never shares her problems then she won’t drag the mood down.

Uraraka is conflict avoidant in other words. There are times she directly addresses the conflict like the times with Tsuyu, but even then it’s in a “We should all get along as friends” sort of way. Uraraka always pushes her feelings down and tries her hardest never to cause trouble for others. However there’s a line between trying not to hurt others, and simply pretending the conflict does not exist.

The shadow is the part of ourselves we repress in order to play for other’s expectations. The persona is a performance, it’s the personality you perform every day. You would swear with a group of friends, but you wouldn’t swear in front of your grandparents. People hide parts of themselves depending on who they’re interacting with, personality is in part a performance to the expectations of others around you, that’s natural. Everyone will have a side of themselves they show to others, and a side of themselves they keep repressed. That’s natural. What is not natural is to be all one way or all the other.

‘Man is not truly one, but truly two’ “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

The point of the shadow and the persona, is that both are true at the same time. You are both who you pretend to be, and what you hide of yourself. The persona is not fake just because it’s a performance, and the shadow isn’t the true self or all there is to you just because it’s hidden. However, the opposite is true at the same time, the persona is not all of who you are, and you can’t make your shadow go away just by repressing it.

Psychological repression is not a healthy strategy for dealing with emotions. It doesn’t resolve emotions, it just makes them go away for a short time. One response to the presence of a shadow is to simply ignore it, but ignoring it will just make you ignorant.

Uraraka views herself to be a good person, and views heroes to be good, but that belief hasn’t come from confronting the bad of society and deciding that heroes are still good anyway. Which is my point, not that Uraraka is wrong, but that she’s ignorant. She’s sheltered, naive, and her lived experience is so narrow she can’t realy make a judgement call on Toga that’s accurate. Like, just for exmaple heroes do in fact kill people. They even get excited about completely destroying villains.

There are heroes who become heroes just to beat the shit out of villains, there are heroes who will try to kill villains, Tokoyami gets confronted with the fact that Hawks killed a villain and his first response is: You did nothing wrong, Hawks. Uraraka sees heroes as the ideal only ever saving people. Yes heroes save people. There are other heroes who are violent. It’s not one or the other, the truth requires acknowledging both at once. Uraraka’s point that she would never feel happy about violence is a false one, because she doesn’t know that for one, and two heroes are just as capable of violence as villains.

The key point to repression is that it doesn’t work.

Himiko already tried reperssing herself and it just drove her insane. The feelings don’t go away simply by pretending that they are not there. Even in a narrative sense, Uraraka’s shadow that she has repressed has escaped her in the form of Himiko and is running around constantly trying to challenge her and confront her to get her to acknowledge those feelings. The feelings will not go away, and Uraraka’s solution is to just keep putting a lid on them and pretending they are not there. It’s because she has such a tight lid on herself it makes her impossible to see things from Himiko’s point of view.

Why is Uraraka supposed to understand things from Himiko’s point of view? Because Himiko is Uraraka, she’s all of her repressed flaws come to roost. Uraraka cannot change or improve as a person until she accepts both the best and worst of herself instead of just trying to always be good all the time. Understanding Himiko leads to a more gray and nuanced understanding of reality rather than the black and white: heroes good, villains bad. Himiko is a foil, a narrative device used to show the flaws of another character.

Uraraka did nothing wrong / Uraraka is right.

Well okay then, but Uraraka would be a pretty boring character otherwise. She’d just be a good girl who did good things all the time and always tried her hardest. I’m not trying to insinuate Uraraka is a bad person, I’m arguing in favor of her complexity. I think there is more to her character than just her trying to be a better hero, and getting stronger and learning to use her powers better. There’s an emotional complexity to Uraraka that she represses.

Emotionally, Uraraka is similiar to Himiko because they both cope poorly in the same way. Emotional repression is unhealthy. Himiko has only two modes, repress everything or don’t repress anything and both of those extremes are bad. Uraraka is on the path to becoming Himiko, because the only way she knows how to deal with things is to shut her feelings off and as Himiko said that doesn’t work: it just drove Himiko insane.

2. The Expressed

Himiko Toga is who she is in reaction to her trauma. Uraraka pushes herself down and tries to play to the expectations of others, and Toga asserts herself and tries to defy other people’s expectations.

I’m actually going to blow everybody’s minds here though: Toga doesn’t actually want to murder people and suck their blood dry. It’s what she thinks she wants, but once again, she is who she is, in reaction to trauma. Toga was violently abused, Toga became violent, but it’s not who she is inherently. It’s who she thinks she is.

Toga has internalize every bad thing every person has ever said about her. Toga not only foils Uraraka, she also foils Shigaraki. Toga has been convinced, that what she wants naturally, is to suck people’s blood, and kill them. The same way that Shigaraki has been convinced by AFO that he was naturally born with the urge to destroy others.

These aren’t things that they have a natural inclination or desire to do, it was things they were told about themselves repeatedly. Shigaraki by AFO, and Toga by everyone around her. Even Toga’s initial incident of violence has a lot more in common with a psychotic break, then with you know, a pre-meditated murder that she did for pleasure.

It’s not something Toga naturally did on her own, it was something she was pushed to do. Remember, Toga suffered twofold abuse. Abuse from her parents, but also psychiatric abuse. The people who were supposed to help her reconcile her quirk, and her unnatural tendencies didn’t try to heal her like they were supposed to. She was demonized by everyone around her, told what a bad girl she was constantly, not for anything she did wrong but because she was born naturally with a quirk. She tried to be good and smile for the sake of others, untils he reached a breaking point: then and only then did she lash out.

Toga’s initial instant of violent wasn’t a pleasure killing. It was a lashing out due to a psychotic break, and it was because both of the systems in her life that were supposed to help teach her to learn to deal with emotions, quirk counselling this world’s version of child therapists, and her own parents, chose to demonize her and tell her to repress herself.

However, children who are abused tend to internalize the words their abusers tell them. Children who are abused often believe they “deserve” their abuse because of their bad behavior.

Now, I’m not trying to justify. I don’t think Toga Himiko is allowed to run around killing whoever she wants just because she was abused. My intent is to explain how her brain works.

Toga Himiko doesn’t get to lash out as she pleased, but I think it’s important to understand that Toga’s lashing out is what makes her human. She’s not an inhuman monster, she’s a human reacting to circumstances. Most people exposed to ugly situations, react in ugly ways, and the few that don’t are the exception that proves the rule.

My point being that Toga is not an insane monster that lusts for blood, she just believes herself to be one. The same way that Uraraka is wrong, Toga is also wrong at the same time.

Because as I said the above is right. Toga can’t live her life just lashing out. While it’s understandable, someone who has endured violence can’t keep lashing out violently forever. Toga’s choice to always lash out is just as unhealthy as Uraraka’s choice to always repress herself.

Because Toga relies again and again on violence to vent her feelings, violence has become an inescapable part of her life. It’s also contrary to what she really wants. Toga thinks she wants violence, but the violence is just a reaction to the violent abuse.

Yes, Toga says all she wants is to drain people dry of their blood but characters are liars sometimes.

Sometimes you can’t take a character at their word. Sometimes instead of reading something directly as stated line for line in the story you have to read between the lines. Toga says she wants to just kill people, but her internal thoughts contradict her.

What Toga needs is to be accepted, loved, and trusted like Uraraka is. That’s her deep internal desire that she states to herself when pushed to her absolute edge by Curious. What Toga thinks she wants is to drain the people she wants dry of their blood, so she can become them and live vicariously through them. What she thinks she wants is a life where she can do whatever she wants, and do as she pleases, in response to a life where she wasn’t allowed to do anything that she wanted. But, that again is a child’s idea of rebellion. It’s a response to her abuse, it’s not who she is. However, Toga’s personal development was forwarded not by killing people and draining them, but by the empathy and acceptance she showed towards Jin.

There’s what she needs, what helps her develop into a more stable person, the empathy and care she shows to Jin. The acceptance Jin showed her in return.

There’s what she thinks she wants, which is to just rebel against everything and always do what she wants in every single situation and accept no limitations on her personal desires.

Toga is in fact just a normal girl, who wants to be accepted by the society at large, or at least find people who accept her. However, Toga doesn’t see herself as one, because she’s internalzied the idea that she’s the blood thirsty monster that everyone thinks she is. Which is why Toga contradicts herself.

Toga in the same breath will say “I’m also a normal girl” and then “I’m a weird kid, I’m a weirdo, no one can understand me.”

Toga cannot explain herself, because she’s wrong about herself. She’s making herself out to be a violent monster because that’s how she copes, the really really bad way she copes. It’s easier to be a violent monster, she’s more protected that way, then to be a runaway girl who’s just scared and alone. However, because Himiko can’t admit this, she also can’t explain herself to other people. She presents the monstrous version of herself and that’s all Uraraka can see.

Neither Uraraka nor Himiko’s way of coping is sustainable. Uraraka cannot keep repressing herself forever, the same way Himiko cannot violently lash out forever.

While what Uraraka says is very black and white, it’s not wrong. If HImiko is goign to live her life “Kill or Be Killed”, then she’s just as likely to end up being killed then she is to be the killer. There’s no happy ending to that kind of life.

However, there is no happy ending to Uraraka’s way of living either. Her perfectionist tendencies and her desire to only ever be good just aren’t going to work, because one a lot of bad things are going on already Uraraka just doesn’t see them, and two it’s not sustainable, Himiko was someone who held everything in too and look where that got her.

Uraraka and Himiko’s talk failed because neither of them are capable of communicating right now. Uraraka can’t understand because she doesn’t try, and Himiko can’t explain herself because she also doesn’t try.

Uraraka only sees what’s good about the world, about heroes. Himiko only sees what’s bad about the world, about heroes. Uraraka sees the beautiful parts, Himiko embodies the ugliness.

However they are both wrong because they are both short sighted. People are not just their shadows, and they’re not just their personas. They are both at the same time.

A junagian shadow confrontation doesn’t end in a fight between good or evil. The shadow is not evil, the persona is not good. They are just two halves of the same person. Defeating a shadow does not make it go away. The shadow is something you have to learn to live with, the same way everybody on earth is flawed, and just tries to live every day working on their flaws the best they can.

The shadow is something that has to be reconciled. Uraraka and Toga don’t have to defeat each other, they have to reconcile with one another.

The narrative is pushing their reconciliaton because Toga and Uraraka both have what the other needs to grow. Uraraka is ignorant because she’s lacking experience. She hasn’t lived Toga’s experiences so she doesn’t understand her perspective. She doesn’t know, and she won’t know until someone explains it to her. However, saving as many people as possible means that Uraraka should also be open to trying to save people who react to abuse in ugly ways as well, because a person can be a victim and a villain at the same time. Uraraka will be a better hero if she’s able to see the flaws in her own society, because she’s a part of the next generation to reform society.

And Toga can’t become someone who is trusted by others if she’s violently lashing out all the time. The same way that Uraraka needs to see what’s bad about the world, Toga needs to learn to see what’s good about the world. The same way Uraraka needs to see both sides of the world, that of a villain girl and that of a normal girl. Toga needs to come to terms with herself, that she’s not a violent monster, but a normal girl. The only way she can stop lashing out and start actually taking responsibility for what she’s done and start on the path to self improvement is if she starts seeing herself as a person capable of improving.

Toga wasn’t born this way she was made this way. She’s just a people, and people change. Toga can either try to change, or keep lashing out forever but at the moment she doesn’t even know that changing is an option for her. She thinks she’s going to be stuck as a monster forever because she was just born one. That’s why, Toga also needs Uraraka as much as Uraraka needs her.

#togachako #uraraka ochako #ochako uraraka #himiko toga #toga himiko #lov meta #mha meta #league of villains meta #my hero academia meta #league of villains #toga himiko is a terrible person #yeah but she's fascinating #besides it's not like she killed YOUR MOM #she hasn't hurt anybody in reality #she's a character in a narrative and we can analyze her without the need to moralize her #because obviously killing is bad #but like beyond that it's constructive to look at her and try to understand her as a person

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years

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Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below.

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant.

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry.

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode.

3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified.

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief.

3:30 - OMG. “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it.

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT.

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true.

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot.

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit. hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining.

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great).

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius. I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed.

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition.

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little.

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining.

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa.

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general.

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect.

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk.

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating.

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it.

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial.

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!?

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm.

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season?

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between.

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder).

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues.

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.” Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often.

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore. DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT.

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here.

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might.

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay.

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason.

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :(

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode.

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers.

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil.

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this.

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL.

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality.

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame.

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast.

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured. Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him. <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis.

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people.

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card.

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour.

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day.

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence.

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting.

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back.

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood.

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :(

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here.

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son).

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons.

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator.

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT.

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die.

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING.

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her.

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all.

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it.

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :(

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene.

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape.

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds.

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect.

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie.

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?!

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces.

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral.

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth.

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us.

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity.

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out.

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verobatto · 3 years

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Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CX

It was a love story from the very beginning.

The Destiel Reunion after the Possession

(14x03)

Hi there! Another volume from season 14, this time this meta will be Dean centric because season 14 was plenty Dean centric. And episode 3 showed us the demage Michael left on Dean. It also talked about the Destiel reunion after the Possession.

As I said in my previous volume, season 14 is the one I started writing meta, so this will be a resume of it and some new addition in retrospective.

You can find my two metas about 14x03 here and here.

The after Possession damage

I remember when I saw Dean in this episode 'The Scar's it was as if I was looking a semiology book of Psychiatry.

First of all because Dean was acting erratic, anxious, always in alert.

"I've never seen Dean in so bad shape. The anxiety was evidently exposed, and the partial lost of memories and the flahsbacks (...) he's weak, as Kaia noticed, mentally weak... "

I wrote this in one of my metas, and as I said in the previous volume, we will have here another reading of Dean's thoughts. This time by Kaia.

(Remember this is the episode in which Dean asks willingly to Castiel to get inside his head. Subtextually, to Dean, Castiel is the only one he allows to go deep inside his thoughts. It's based in trust and love.)

But let's check AU!Kaia and Dean dialogue:

Kaia: You’re no different from him. Threats, violence anything to get what you want.

Dean: I am nothing like him.

Kaia is reading Dean's fears here. Treating him like an angry killer. All his toxicity is exposed at Kaia's reading.

Kaia: Yeah you are: you always have been!

(...)

Sam: Wait a second: you’re a dreamwalker, too? Your powers, they connected you.

Kaia: Our whole lives, what she saw, I saw. I know where it comes from your anger, your impatience: it's fear. You’re scared and you’re weak

The fact that this while scene was linked to the scene in which Jack and CAS discovered how to save a young girl from a spell. Graphically releasing her by breaking an amulet, is foreshadowing Dean self release from his second Possession. Kaia saying 'what she saw I saw' is practically giving a clue about Michael spying them through Dean's eyes.

So anxiety and depression cohabitate in Dean after Possession.

"Did you see how Dean was like running all the time? He didn't listen to Sam or Jody, he needed to do things quickly. Running here, there, it doesn't matter, bc he was running from himself, and to find and kill Michael was just an excuse."

That was the image of Dean I got from this episode. Then, this dialogue in the car whit Sam in which he describes how it was to be possesed.

He mentions "drowning" that was his desperate battle to conquer his own thoughts and own body. We'll have a lot of recallings to this word throughout the season 14, a lot of monsters representing AU!Michael and his own toxicity trying to drowning him.

Gif set credit @itsokaysammy

Purity and Purge

Before jumping into my idea of what it meant that cold reunion (cold because it didn't have a hug) I wanna talk a little more about how Michael brought the Purgatory into season 14 as a prelude to episode 15x09, but mostly, as a symbolic representation of what being posseses meant to Dean too.

"I was expecting Michael to be the new Purgatory exposure in this season, an opportunity for Dean to bring back the purity from his heart, as he did in Purgatory, the place where he realized he was in love of his best friend.. (sighing)."

This definitely happened and had his conclusion in season 15 with 15x09.

But, the purity of the heart Dean will expose throughout this season wasn't the purity Michael wanted to bring to Earth.

"We could confuse purity with basic Instincts when we talk about monsters. Bc basic Instincts are pure, indeed, there's no contamination in what the monsters wants: hunt, eat, survive. Like animals."

This is directly related to the idea of PURGE Michael wanted for the world. And it also was showed in Dean's behavior in the woods when he was searching for Michael. Basics instincts an animal would use to find his prey. Dean was in basic hunter mode.

The Destiel Reunion

The Destieo reunion had a bittersweet taste.

First of all, when Castiel arrived to the scene, a dramatic music started to play. This is usually used to point out at a romantic couple playing the scene. And because it was specifically played when Castiel arrived and Dean and him exchanged weird looks, it's obvious it was there to show the audience HELLO, THIS IS A REUNION OF LOVERS.

Gif set @jacktwistfan

Until now, everything was sweet, Dean is really happy to see Castiel. He looks as if he was breathing for the first time. His face is showing relief and his heart eyesbfor the angel are out of control. 'There you are. The love of my life.'

And Cas, well, remember when I said he was more emotional?

He smiles at him. Like... Very happy but then... Dean's face turned into... Recrimination.

Cas: I’m sorry. I wanted to be there, but we feared that Michael would sense my presence.

Dean: Sam told me. Ain’t no thing.

Gif set credit @cath-avery

Dean is mad at Cas, because Castiel didn't go to rescue him. Even knowing it could be bad for the plan, deep inside , Dean wanted to see CAS in that barn. That's why their looks. Castiel csn see this perfectly. He even explains this to him. I didn't want to see this but then in episode 14x04 (the next meta) I will explain why Dean was feeling sad, one of the causes was he was feeling Castiel didn't pay attention to him. The 'jealousy' starts to burn (yes, Dean was kind of jealouse of Jack because Castiel spends now more time with him) and this will end up with their break up at the end of the season when Jack will be the one killing Mary accidentally.

Dean being mad with Cas could be the cause of why we didn't have a hug. But also, because Dean felt dirty and ashamed, his mind had been ripped by Michael. Maybe he felt too dirt to go Cas a hug.

Now... Let's jump to the sexual innuendo scene...

There's a huge parallel between this episode and 4x01 in which Dean realized he had a hand print on his left shoulder. Here, Dean noticed the scar in his right shoulder and uncovered in the same way he did in 4x01. I called this Michael's mark vs Destiel mark. And is a blatant representation of why Michael couldn't possesed Dean's vessel completely. And mostly because the scar looked like two phalanxes. As if it was trying to complete a handprint. But he couldn't, because Dean is already taken by Castiel. If this is not romantic trope, I don't know how to call it.

And now... Dean asking Castiel to get inside his head, as an act of trust, marking a foreshadow for 14x10, when Castiel and Sam will enter in his mind.

Dean: Cas, c’mon hit me.

But this will end up being a scene with sexual innuendo, mostly because Misha and Jensen acting choices...

Gif credit @faramaiofnerdwoodforest

Dean's face if one of whom just had the orgasm of his life. His face after realize the sensation that that intrusion by Castiel had made him feel is showing he is aware they just had had an experience. It was OBVIOUSLY very exciting. He even tries to compose himself a little, feeling ashamed, but collecting his hands together towards his own chest. His left eyelid drops a little, just after experienced a very amount of... well... Sensations. It looks as if Dean ejaculated after having great sex with his angel.

This was fanservice, thank you Lord Berens.

To Conclude:

This episode showed us a very bittersweet Destieo reunion. I infer it was because Dean was mad at CAS for not being in the barn to rescue him.

It also had a Destiel sex scene, their first time... 🤣

But it spoke too about the amount of psychiatric damage AUMichsel left on Dean.

Hope you liked this meta, see you in the next one.

Tagging @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @maleansu @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2002 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777

If you wanna be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 14 here you have the link: CIX

Buenos Aires, April 25th 2021 4:25 PM

#destiel chronicles #destiel #destiel meta #season 14 meta #14x03 #14x03 meta #dean winchester #au! Michael #dean winchester meta #castiel #sam winchester #supernatural #spn meta #supernatural meta

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typicalher · 4 years

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An Analysis of Will's Moral Conflict

One of the key struggles for Will throughout the show concerns his reluctance to fully embrace his darkness. I completely acknowledge that this is a struggle that he deals with throughout, but the reasons for this struggle are more complicated than him simply having too strong of a good moral compass. When you actually look carefully at Will’s pattern of behavior, what you see is that Will’s moral struggle is really more about what he thinks he should feel or possibly even what he thinks he should want to feel. It is often argued that Will struggles with his internal conflict because he also wants justice or to stop Hannibal (and himself) from killing or hurting people. If Will is fighting his darker urges because he wants to protect people then that would be valid, but this is usually not the case when you actually look at his actions and the fallout. Will’s struggles don’t actually protect anyone (in fact his indecisiveness usually leads to tragic consequences) and when others do get hurt, he doesn’t actually react with genuine guilt or even make true changes to his behavior for the better.

In the beginning of the series, we do know that Will has a desire to be normal and because he isn’t he largely hides from social interaction. At first he is also not interested in socializing or even talking with Hannibal, but once Hannibal gets him to confess to enjoying killing Hobbs and then offers him acceptance at this confession, we see Will become much more comfortable having serious and personal conversations with him. Will enjoys the acceptance that Hannibal is offering him despite admitting to enjoying taking a life. Will is still very reluctant to admit this to anyone else; however, so he does recognize that it isn’t a normal feeling for him to have despite Hannibal’s lack of judgement (and even encouragement). He tells Abigail that killing her father was the “ugliest feeling in the world,” which we know is a lie and near the end of S1 he later confesses the truth about how he felt to her.

S2 is where we really get to see Will’s struggle begin though because it is during S2 that he is much more “awake” so to speak and he actually starts actively embracing more of his darker urges and recognizing them for what they are. He is angry at Hannibal because of Abigail’s death and the betrayal of lying about his illness and framing him, as well as the death of Beverly, which eventually leads to Will sending Matthew Brown to kill him. Will does not appear to feel any regret for this attempt at murder by proxy, or the fact that he was sending someone else off to potentially be sacrificed for this cause, and when Hannibal frees him from prison shortly afterwards, he also begins to understand some of Hannibal’s motivations for his S1 actions. However, he still starts off on a plan to get revenge and presumably attempt to bring Hannibal to justice. This brings us to the question of why is Will really doing all of this. Jack certainly seems to think it is for justice, but we eventually see that Will is lying throughout the “investigation.” Will was, for instance, supposed to manipulate Hannibal into trying to kill Mason but arrest him in the act. At least that is what Will tells Jack. However, Will also doesn’t tell Jack anything about his personal connection to the Mason Verger plot and what happened to Margot. He also manipulates Mason against Hannibal, but in the end he frees Hannibal allowing him to kill his way out of Muskrat Farm. He also just ends up watching Hannibal snap Mason’s neck and doesn’t tell Jack anything about what actually happened, which is why they have to resort to the planned entrapment dinner. Based on his actions and not just on what Jack believes are his intentions, there isn’t really any indication that Will’s motivations are anything but personal. He is upset by Hannibal’s actions in S1, but he is mostly still upset about what happened to Abigail. He brings her death up to Freddie twice and questions Hannibal directly about it. Even before the rest of the FBI closes in and Will is forced to make a choice, he burns Hannibal’s psychiatric notes about him. The file even contains the real clock that Will drew when he was ill. Will burns it willingly when he could have attempted to keep it. Hannibal doesn’t seem concerned at all that Will has it in his hands. Why does he destroy valuable evidence if he wants justice? In the end, Will disregards even Abigail’s death when he calls Hannibal to warn him. Even if Will wasn’t planning to run with Hannibal when he got to the house (though we know he at least wanted to based on his later confession to Jack) he wanted Hannibal to leave. He wanted him to go free. This wasn’t about justice. It was about what had personally happened between the two of them and he was apparently okay with Hannibal leaving and going to potentially kill other people somewhere else. Later when Will is in the hospital and Chilton tells him this is his best possible world, Will imagines if he had killed Jack with Hannibal that night, which shows us that Will’s regrets over Mizumono aren’t that he failed to stop Hannibal and bring him to justice but that he didn’t commit to Hannibal sooner and that they didn’t get to go through with killing Jack together.

When we get to S3, Will’s conflict eventually shifts away from being about what Hannibal has done to hurt him and more about Will’s so called morality. This is where Will starts to get a bit more difficult to follow in terms of motivation because Will is pretty hypocritical about all of it. At the beginning of the season, Will is mourning the loss of the family that he, Hannibal, and Abigail could have been together. He is worried that Hannibal may just be playing with him, but he also wants to go to Hannibal. This is explicitly stated more than once when he talks to “Abigail” who is really just a representation of his own thoughts. At the end of the episode, he forgives Hannibal, and I think this is where we start to get a bit of a shift in Will’s conflict. Will goes to Hannibal’s childhood home, which is where he encounters Chiyoh. Will now sees someone Hannibal has “tested” and seemingly has left behind. Will was already worried in Primavera that Hannibal was simply playing with him, but now he sees someone that Hannibal was able to walk away from and he likely becomes concerned that Hannibal sees him the same way. Afterall, Hannibal gutted him and walked away and Will only has the broken heart as a sign that Hannibal hasn’t just moved on. What if Hannibal was just mocking him? Will’s insecurities are somewhat understandable here. What is telling though is how Will treats what he should logically see as another of Hannibal’s “victims.” He treats Chiyoh in a very Hannibal-like manner. He tests her to see if she will kill and she does in self-defense. While he does take the prisoner away from the castle initially, when Chiyoh screams, we get a shot of Will off in the woods. His reaction is stone cold and there is no surprise at all on his face, so he must have expected the prisoner to come back after her. Chiyoh also makes sure to call him out on his real intentions. Later when they are riding the train together, he still shows no remorse for what he did to her, and instead rather coldly questions her about taking a life. He asks her if she sees herself killing the prisoner over and over and she replies no that she sees him and his response is just to grin at her as if he enjoys the thought of what he has made her do. Later in the same episode, she states that he feels like he needs to kill Hannibal or he will become him and Will says yes. It is here that the story somewhat shifts from Will possibly wanting to go be with Hannibal again to feeling like now he needs to kill Hannibal in order to “save himself” from Becoming like him. What changed? I think Chiyoh and thinking Hannibal just saw her as disposable is part of it, but I think the fact that he was able to really forgive Hannibal for what happened between them before and Abigail is also apart of it. If Will can forgive Hannibal for killing their daughter and gutting him and still wants to go to him, what does that say about Will himself and the type of person he is? This isn’t the way normal people love. I think this realization, combined with the fear that Hannibal doesn’t really care about him, causes Will to get a bit spooked and regress in his own self-acceptance a bit. Seeing Bedelia and realizing she took his place also helped solidify this belief on his part.

However, lets look a little more closely at Will’s apparent motivation and the belief he needs to kill Hannibal for this reason. Is it to bring him to justice? Is it to stop Hannibal from killing others? No, it is all about Will and his attempts to possibly control his own thoughts, feelings, and actions. Keep in mind that at this point, Hannibal has left Will alone for eight months. He did leave the broken heart, but Will had to travel across the ocean to see that. Will is going after Hannibal; Hannibal is not going to Will. The idea that Will must kill Hannibal to stop his own dark desires is pretty illogical on Will’s part, and Chiyoh tries to point out to him that there are flaws in his thinking because she follows up by telling him there are means of influence other than violence, but this is also where Will really starts twisting himself up in knots to lie to himself. (For the record, I do think there is more to Will’s motivations than just wanting to kill Hannibal just like there was much more to Hannibal’s attempt at the head sawing. For one, I think they are both afraid of being the vulnerable one in the relationship because at this point in their relationship, there is a lot of violence, physical and emotional, between them. I also doubt Will would have gone through with it. He pulled a tiny knife in the middle of a public street and Will has never before or after this, been able to actually go through with killing Hannibal or letting anyone else do it, but I digress.) It should also be noted that Will didn’t go to Italy in the first place to attempt to bring Hannibal to justice. He goes to Italy to deal with his feelings for Hannibal just like he “resumed therapy” to deal with his feelings for Hannibal. We can see proof of this in his interaction with Pazzi who wants his help as an officer of the law to find Hannibal, and Will not only isn’t interested in really helping him, he starts to deliberately act creepy around him including taunting him by asking him if he knows whose side he is really on. When Will meets up with Jack later, even though he goes with him to the apartment where they find Bedelia, Will also slips out by himself and doesn’t tell Jack he knows where to find Hannibal, so again he sees finding Hannibal as something personal and not a matter of law enforcement.

Then we arrive at the Digestivo break up. Will is clearly exhausted during this episode. He does bite Cordell’s cheek and look to Hannibal for approval and help talk Alana into freeing them, but you can tell he is tired. This is when he tells Hannibal to leave and he doesn’t want to know where he is. Let’s break this action down. There are two valid interpretations to this: Will deliberately manipulated Hannibal into surrendering (which he later claims) or Will thought Hannibal would really leave and was surprised that Hannibal turned himself in. If Will did deliberately manipulate Hannibal into turning himself in, we can say from his later actions that he was essentially keeping Hannibal on the hook until Will was ready to return to him. Will is giving himself a break from the drama that is their relationship and giving himself some space (even though Will was the one to seek out Hannibal again and not the other way around). If Will didn’t manipulate him on purpose then Will once again is apparently fine with Hannibal leaving and killing other people. The implication then is that it would apparently be okay as long as Hannibal wasn’t killing people he knew and Will wasn’t tempted to give in to his own dark urges by being around Hannibal. Hannibal killing only seems to be an issue for Will when he is personally connected to it, and even then only to a point. The only one of Hannibal’s victims he really seems to care about is Abigail (who he forgave Hannibal for) and Beverly for a short period of time before he seemingly forgot about her entirely (and this is arguably Will being angry at Hannibal taking something else away from him. Will tends to get upset when he believes this is what Hannibal is doing. We see it with Abigail, Margot’s baby, and later when he accuses Hannibal of this concerning Molly and Walter during his conversation with Bedelia.) We can also see the way Will treats one of Hannibal’s surviving victims, Alana. Alana is manipulated by Hannibal, and unlike Will himself, is considered disposable. Alana actually does try to stop Hannibal by pulling the trigger and attempting to shoot him, but she fails. She is a victim of Hannibal’s manipulations and suffers a serious injury and almost dies because of Hannibal. And how does Will treat her? He doesn’t even want her around him. He would rather pine for Hannibal and Abigail in Hannibal’s kitchen than even talk to her. They could have come together to bond over their trauma, but instead he rejects her entirely and tells her to leave him alone. He doesn’t even have a logical reason to be so put off by her in their scene in the kitchen.

We then arrive at the Red Dragon arc where Will’s “moral conflict” reaches its most hypocritical levels. First, we have how he treats Bedelia. Will is blatantly jealous, but even setting aside his hatred of her as a potential rival, his attitude towards her is outrageously hypocritical. He was upset no one would believe him about Hannibal in the first half of S2, but he never even gives her story the benefit of the doubt for a second (even openly mocking her with his “I don’t believe you.”) He also tells her she would deserve to be eaten by Hannibal and later threatens her again in TWOTL. This is the man who tried to shoot someone in cold blood, mutilated a corpse, set someone up to kill and mutilated another corpse, and tried to help Hannibal escape at least once. Will has done more criminal acts and gotten away with them than Bedelia is even capable of doing in the first place. Remember when Will was going to be arrested for killing and mutilating Randall Tier? Apparently Will just got away with that completely once the FBI was distracted by Hannibal being the real Ripper. Bedelia has nothing on Will.

We also have Will’s family, which is often used as an example of Will trying to be a good man and resist his darkness, but let’s look at how this is presented. Parallels are actually drawn between Will choosing his family and how Dolarhyde chooses his victims. Hannibal points out that Dolarhyde is like Will and “needs a family to escape what is inside of him.” When Hannibal tells him he picked a readymade family “to serve his needs” because he knows better than to breed, Will is called out for basically having a beard family (in more than one way). It is worth noting that Will does not even try to argue with Hannibal about this, which is basically accepting the truth of the statement. Will doesn’t have a problem with calling Hannibal out when he feels he deserves it. What we are shown of Will’s relationship with Molly is also quite shallow. We have no reason to believe he has been honest about himself with her. She believes he is motivated by wanting to save lives, but as we have seen he is fine putting people in danger and doesn’t seem to care about Hannibal killing people he doesn’t care about. She also jokes about his criminal mind and he shuts the conversation down. There has been discussion about whether or not Will was purposely putting Molly and Walter in danger. I don’t think he did this consciously, but I do believe he was very selfish to use them for a “normal” life while he is essentially keeping Hannibal waiting in prison. It is also very odd that Will is supposed to be so good at reading killers, but he “doesn’t” pick up on the obvious hints Hannibal gives him about Dolarhyde coming after Molly and Walter next. By involving them, and not being honest with them, he at least was pulling them into a world they weren’t prepared for. We also never see them again after they are attacked. Will mainly seems upset that Hannibal tried to take something away from him again since that has been an issue for Will throughout their relationship and even in the scene where he confronts Hannibal about it he doesn’t even stay angry for the entire scene. (Also, the accusation that Hannibal gave Will three years to build a family just so he could take them away is pretty bizarre logic as well. Hannibal didn’t know what Will was going to do while he was in prison.) If Will actually wanted to be with them though, it is odd that this was enough to destroy the relationship. As if he wanted to live in an illusion and once the illusion is shattered he has no need for it. Some argue that Will’s motivations are to protect Molly and Walter in the finale, but if that is the case why do we never see them again? Molly is only brought up in the finale as a way for Will to try and hurt Hannibal. If Will truly cared beyond the destruction of his attempt at a normal life, then why do we not get more of a real moment between Will and Molly after the hospital scene? Instead, Will is back to focusing on the personal conflict of he and Hannibal’s relationship and the new confirmation that Hannibal is in love with him and what he feels in return and what he is going to do about it. In fact, Will was the one who decided to involve Hannibal in the case before it was even necessary. If Will believes Hannibal is so dangerous for himself and the world at large, why doesn’t he leave Hannibal to rot alone in his cell until it is absolutely necessary to interact with him? Bedelia calls him out for just missing Hannibal and wanting to see him, but you also have to wonder if Will wants to give Hannibal the chance to act in some way and get involved. Hannibal didn’t even need to know Will had a family at all for the purposes of this case, so Will agreeing with Bedelia that Hannibal was going to let Will have something knowing he could take it away is odd. The whole situation is another example of Will coming to Hannibal instead of Hannibal coming to Will. Will had to want Hannibal involved.

We then come to Chilton and Will’s role in what happens to him. Will does appear upset at seeing what happened to Chilton in the FBI office, but when we cut to him with Bedelia, the one he can be more honest with, we see a very different side of him, and when she asks if he wants to talk about it he responds with “the divine punishment of a sinner mirrors the sin being punished” and “Damned if I’ll feel.” When she asks if he has to wonder if he put Chilton at risk he says no and with a cocky eyebrow raise, he responds to her asking if she expected this to happen to Chilton by saying “I can’t say I’m surprised.” We aren’t seeing any real remorse here and after imagining himself lighting the match that burned Chilton, he easily lies to Jack in the next scene and blames it all on Hannibal, which is a deliberate attempt on his part to deflect the blame he was just taking responsibility for with Bedelia.

Will’s actions in The Wrath of the Lamb are ambiguous to a point, and there are multiple interpretations of what his intentions were. What we can say for certain is that Will lies to Jack and acts like he didn’t know Dolarhyde was alive until after the rest of them learn that news as well. He never reveals that he has already put a plot into motion involving Dolarhyde. So what is Will’s motivation? There are different options. None of them actually make Will look good or heroic at all. One interpretation is that Will has decided that too many lines have been crossed by himself and he needs to put an end to it, so he is going to have Dolarhyde kill Hannibal. If this is Will’s motivation, then it means that Will is essentially blaming giving in to his own darkness on Hannibal simply existing. Hannibal is in a cell and while he did find a way to be something of a danger thanks to Dolarhyde, that avenue is now cut off to him. It doesn’t make logical sense for Will to decide to use another serial killer to kill Hannibal because Will has given into his darkness enough to now be willing to do things like set up Chilton and not feel bad about it. If this is Will’s genuine plan, it also means he is willing to lie to Jack and the others and put many people in danger for his own personal issues. The officers escorting them are killed, and it can be easily assumed that Will helped Dolarhyde know where they would be (how else did he find out?) so that it would just be Will and Hannibal against Dolarhyde alone, which was not Jack’s plan at all. Even if Will didn’t intend for the police officers to die, he was deliberately endangering others with his plan and they die because of his manipulations. Will also shows no remorse over this (he even steals a gun off of a corpse) even though it is a much worse act than killing a family annihilator with Hannibal. If Will’s moral conflict doesn’t include caring about the lives of innocent officers, what exactly is he trying to stop himself from Becoming and how will Hannibal being dead help? The most “heroic” take on Will’s plan is that he wanted to put an end to Dolarhyde and Hannibal (and possibly himself) to end all the evil and maybe stop himself from becoming a killer. However, Will’s plan involves lying to Jack, manipulating people, and getting innocent bystanders killed. This isn’t logical and if this was Will’s conscious plan he is a hypocrite who is more concerned with saving a perception of himself that he believes should exist than actually being a hero. If Will really wanted to put an end to things, he could also have helped Jack find Dolarhyde and then turn himself in for his own crimes or had himself committed to protect others from himself. Will instead picks the most reckless and dangerous plan he could. Even his attempt at ending both he and Hannibal isn’t a full commitment to the act. There was still a gun available. He could have put a bullet in Hannibal’s brain when he was vulnerable and then ended himself. Instead, Will pushes them off a cliff that Hannibal already told him had an eroding bluff. He is leaving it up to chance, likely because he doesn’t really want to die, but he believes dying is what he should want to do. Keep in mind, this last push isn’t motivated by the fact that his plotting led to the death of several innocent people. He is motivated to do this because of how Good and Right it feels killing with Hannibal.

For the record, I believe that Will really wanted to free Hannibal and kill with him. I do think it is very possible that Will told himself his motivations were what I outlined above, but because those motivations are so illogical, I believe this was just his excuse to create a situation where he and Hannibal had to fight and kill Dolarhyde alone together because what he really wanted was that experience (after all, he tells Bedelia his plan and threatens her with Hannibal coming after her, which doesn’t make sense if he really plans for them to all be dead). However, if the above were his motivations, and Will truly wanted to let Dolarhyde kill Hannibal for him right up until the moment he couldn’t actually let it happen, then Will is someone who is willing to blame someone else for his own actions, unnecessarily endanger bystanders to “save” himself, and then attempt to use someone else for murder by proxy (again). None of that is heroic and none of that demonstrates that Will is driven by a genuine attempt to be moral. It is a surface level morality that doesn’t add up to much at all.

Even the narrative tends to tell Will that his fight to preserve his “morality” is dangerous to others. The more Will fights, the more indecisiveness he shows, the more he gets other people hurt. His insistence that he just kept lying to Hannibal (as he tells himself in Primavera) helped lead to the tragedy of Mizumono. While Hannibal is responsible for his own actions, Will is also responsible for the part he plays and his inability to pick a side until it was too late (and even then in a way ambiguous enough that Hannibal did not seem to get the message.) When Will is unsure of himself and gives into his impulses without being sure of what he wants, we end up with situations like Chilton and the unnecessary deaths in TWOTL. Will’s moral conflict never actually leads to anything good in the show, and a lot of the negative consequences are caused by Will’s inability to seemingly be honest even with himself. Will’s moral conflict is something he does struggle with, but ultimately it does not lead to him actually changing for the better or showing genuine remorse for his actions. His conflict only leads to him being more reckless and endangering even more people. It is a false conflict that is based on Will believing he should be a certain way because of society’s expectations (and it is in this that the closeted subtext makes the most sense) rather than real guilt or a desire to be good for its own sake. I do hope and believe that surviving the Fall was what Will needed to finally let go of these issues so that he can finally be happy with himself and Hannibal.

#hannibal #spoilers #will graham #meta #hannigran #hannibal lecter

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years

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The Lovers Card

Finally, after so long, this commission is complete! This commission is for @shoccydoccy featuring their oc Mitch and the Doctor. Husband versions of Bonnie and Clyde. I had a great time writing out their dynamic!!!

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Reblogs > Likes !!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Dead by daylight

Relationship: The Doctor/OC (Mitch)

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, canon typical violence and mentions of blood, the Doctor’s shockies being used in non painful ways, horror husbands???, roleplay of chase, face fucking, possessive behavior

Words: 5.3k

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The Entity’s realm was not for lovers.

Positive emotions here were built upon hope and a dream, a dream that would be crushed under the spider-like limbs with a haunting, twelve people sounding laugh. The Entity did not allow its play things any positivity lest it wished to destroy it. At least, that’s what most survivors would tell you. The ones who had hoped that even in a realm such as this, that their obsessive killers would no longer be a threat over their head.

For Mitch, he had listened to those survivors tell their stories at the campfire when he had entered. They all sounded frightened, stressed, tired. Being one of the former lead doctors at a psychiatric institution, he made quick assumptions of their relations with each one.

~Rest under the cut~

Laurie swore no relation to the monster who had chased her since she was merely a girl. Yet, there was something hesitant in the way she spoke, a wobble to her lips as if somewhere in the back of her mind she KNEW who this man was that followed her. Mitch assumed that he must have been family, or a family friend, but perhaps one she was not close with nor knew. Yet, the blood still ran deep. He quickly could guess PTSD, anxiety disorder, and clinical depression. Yet, how curious was her loud, fighting spirit? Her need to survive and see him destroyed outweighing her need to lie belly up and die.

Quentin looked stressed at even any word beginning with the letter F. As if you would say a certain word or a name, and a boogeyman would come jumping out. He confided that he didn’t sleep, wringing his hands and eyes looking everywhere but Mitch as he talked about the dream killer. As if in a realm such as this, that was something funny to believe in. A child’s story.

Mitch had hummed to show he was listening as he idly wrote in his journal. PTSD, high case of paranoia, insomniac, and clinical depression. Yet, what kept him going when it looked like he just wanted to drop and let himself get the end of a sharp weapon to his throat?

For Mitch, he too had his own obsession. But, unlike in the way these two seemed to be. They were stressed to even think of the ones who obsessed over them, and yet, Mitch could only obsess over this...’Doctor’ they kept discussing. A killer in these very realms said to be one of the most ruthless.

Feng had come to this realm, born in electricity and the high levels of static echoing throughout white walls and a haunting laugh. She tells Mitch this with a shrug, as if running her own killer had been a piece of cake. However, something catches Mitch off guard. Something that shouldn’t have been something too big a deal- but it’s the way she described her surroundings.

White walls. A hospital with an eerie feeling. Different levels now overgrown with plant life and the ceilings busted open. Flickering lights. A big open room with various televisions. The gates being huge and eerie and with two ways out. A library on one side, an office on the other with old books and a record player-

It’s all too perfect. So, Mitch had nonchalantly asked if she’d caught a plaque with a name on it. Something to tell what the hospital was possibly called?

When the words: ‘Lery’s memorial’ pass her lips, Mitch lets the first positive emotion flood his body. Of feelings that would disgust the Entity.

Of hope.

Of nostalgia.

Of...love.

Mitch had yet to come into any contact with both that place as well as the killer known among the survivors as ‘The Doctor’. Everything had been far too perfect thus far; Everything fell into place just right. And if...and if it was Herman? Where had he gone? Who had taken him? Was it the same being that had come to Mitch in his dreams and scooped him away into the deadly fog?

They both were not even the slightest innocents. In life, Mitch had matched wits, banter, and intellect with the doctor, which caused Herman to gain interest in the younger.

Herman Carter was a man who had a fascination with both science and psychiatrics- mostly dealing with the n eurological system and the questions such as: Why do we all think? Why is the brain so active in certain lobes? He was known among colleagues to be cold and clinical, or almost mad in a way. He was very persuasive and was known as the smartest man in the room, but didn’t have a lot of friends.

Mitch had come to the institute as a new and upcoming doctor. Unlike Herman who had all his life been fascinated by the brain, with all the neuroscience that came with it, as well as knowing all his life that he would succeed. Mitch had led a different life. Struggling to get into college due to the costs and taking back alley jobs.

Herman had intimidated Mitch at first. He couldn’t lie about that. He stood just as tall as he did, rich dark brown skin, signs of aging on his face but with grace. His voice was smooth and deep, always sounding refined and clinical when he spoke. His smile was one that stretched all the way to his deep black eyes, framed with crow’s feet that hinted that he grinned and laughed quite often.

His stature and physique were intimidating, imposing, yet as time went on Mitch learned that he kind of...liked that. Besides, he wasn’t bad once you got to know him- a little off the hinges, sure, but nothing that was too much for Mitch. In fact, you could say they were a perfect match.

Mitch, in turn, must have looked like a plain Jane up next to him. At least in Mitch’s eyes.

Similar in height with black curls coming down to his shoulder always pulled up and out of the way in a ponytail and standing out against his peachy skin tone. His own voice was thickened with a Russian accent, his own verbal ticks leading to him tumbling over a few English words.

Large lensed glasses cover his hazel eyes, his lashes thick and eye shape kind and softly shaped. His usual outfit even stood out in comparison to Herman’s nice suits. Mitch normally wore something akin to a collared mustard yellow shirt with a little brown tie. An earth toned sweater vest thrown over and some nice dress slacks and shoes with his doctor’s coat. Something he currently wore in the trials as well.

The hospital they had worked had been no place for romance. Neither had Herman been looking for anything of the sort. And yet, something blossomed between the two.

Mitch was a rather forward person once Herman got to know him. Once was a man who spoke in small talk and niceties, now became more assertive in his wants. To the point on one long night, he’d taken a drink from his cup of coffee, leaning on the counter and told Herman truthfully that he wanted to see him outside the clinic one of these times. Herman had been a bit taken back, he’d admit, normally people beat around the bush or thought him as rather ‘off the rails’.

But all he could see from Mitch was honesty past his thick lashes as he took another drink of his coffee with a soft hum in his throat as he waited for the reply from Herman. Seeming unaffected if he would accept or deny him. And well, Herman could admit, both his intellect and appearance were very attractive. Not to mention his confidence in challenging someone such as himself.

In the end, Herman had accepted. No guilt in his body, as if somehow, he knew that in the future that if Mitch caught onto the more...elaborate experiments he was conducting. That well...

Well...Mitch wouldn’t be too innocent himself in that event. Always such an eager dog to follow.

By the time Herman is taken into custody and offered a job under the name AWAKENING, he knows no one better than he’d want at his side for the job than his former partner and his now current husband. Convincing the higher ups isn’t a problem, not when he’s their best interrogator on the scene. And being able to watch Mitch methodically take people apart on the job? Now that was just a bonus. A delicious, delicious bonus.

Mitch had found himself following deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. Anywhere Herman went, he followed. If Herman said they were going underground to an institute called ‘ Lery’s Memorial’ for more experimentation to be conducted, that’s where he followed. If Herman said that Mitch was to help him figure out the fundamentals of electroshock therapy on an exposed brain to figure out mind control methods? Then, well. Mitch followed.

Yet, even in the darkest of moments, they could find a home in the other. Another worldly couple of Bonnie and Clyde. At their jobs, they were the best of the worst. And at home, Herman would hold Mitch in his arms as they swayed in the kitchen and murmured sweet nothings to one another. Forehead to forehead, fingers laced, an everyday looking couple. Gold ring bands to match and all.

No. The Entity’s realm? It was truly not made for lovers. It tried its hardest to keep the positive out. Even if that said couple was a quietly infamous couple.

And yet, this begged the question. What if a survivor, was just as willing and able to give the pain as a killer was?

What if Mitch’s theories were right and his beloved was seen as more of a nightmare than himself? If this is where Herman had disappeared to so long ago?

Time would only tell.

Mitch learns the realms rather quickly. Taking to sketching them in his notebook in his book with the killer that was found there. He finds repetitions of these killers exist in different realms, so it didn’t seem that they would stay in their own designated ‘area’, but merely whatever the Entity picked.

In the same way, the survivors are picked seemingly at random. Though, Mitch finds that if it is someone such as the Shape, that Laurie will always be involved. Similarly, if it is the Nightmare, Quentin will be involved. It...

It almost makes him give up his theory. Figuring it was perhaps just his hope keeping that feeling alive. Wouldn’t it have made sense for the Entity to pair them up? Wouldn’t it be something to agonize over? Wasn’t that a goal of the Entity’s, to cause as much pain as possible?

It’s something he mulls over while he plays with his wedding band one day, looking at the glittering gold with a soft sigh passing his lips. Of longing or frustration, not even he’s entirely sure.

As far as he knew in the mortal realm, Herman had been taken from the institute by police where they discovered Mr. Stamper. Where his head was cracked open and electrodes and prods were inserted into a still, very much working brain. His research papers had been left, but he’d been...just gone.

And then, just like this, Mitch was here. With a realm matching the description to a T. A realm he’d yet to be in, and a killer he’d yet to see.

But then. One day. It happens.

When Mitch awakens, he finds himself no longer in the warmed bed in the cabin of their camp. He finds himself blinking himself awake to the entrance of a building with two wide , swung open doors. Overgrowth enters the building with tufts of grass, leading into blindingly white walls, white floors, hospital beds, flickering televisions hung on the walls...

‘Lery’s memorial’ reads the plaque outside said doors. Mitch finds that small bit of hope flickering into his system at the sight. Of course, he had learned from the other survivors, that these realms were also based on areas they’d had immense trauma in. Such as Laurie with her old neighborhood, or Quentin with the preschool grounds. So maybe...maybe this is just where the Entity took his own memories and made them into something painful to look at.

Grounding himself, Mitch finds himself going around familiar corridors and finding the place to be near exactly as remembered. Just vacated of patients, experiments, and of course it being now run down. But he tries to ignore the nostalgia as he finds a generator and begins getting to work on it with a few small tugs of the wires.

It’s when the sound of a fellow survivor getting shocked with a haunting, chilling yet familiar laugh does Mitch shoot up. Forgetting his position at the generator as it cracks with its own shock from being suddenly jolted. It would alert his position. And maybe that’s what he wants.

The familiar sound of thrumming in his ears and the feeling of his hair standing on end makes Mitch move around the corner to GREET the killer, near frantic with the need to know. It was all on a hunch, a theory. But if he was right, if he could see Herman again, if he would even recognize his own husband after so long locked up here to play a game by a creature yet unseen-

He near bumps right into the killer. Standing just about as tall as Mitch does. His unblinking gaze and a grin stretched across his face being of a familiar retainer to keep a patient’s facial parts open for no natural reflexes to get in the way. He recognizes it instantly; It had been one of Herman’s favorites to keep his patients from becoming too rowdy.

This killer’s skin is paler than the rich, dark tone he’d been familiar with. Now almost ashy and dead. Electricity shoots up bare arms, the doctor’s coat’s arms ripped off- or singed off from the very electricity running through his veins. Blood splatters his coat, dried over his cheeks, eyes wide open and seemingly full of electricity themselves in how they glow. Mitch’s eyes fall to his left hand, almost frantic with the need to know.

A gold band rests on the killer’s left ring finger and he feels his heart pick up in speed, but not from fear.

His heart does something odd, lurching in his chest as his fingers shake. The Doctor seems at a pause too, fingers clutched tight around the electric spear in his hand. He cocks his head to look at Mitch better, eyes flickering over his frame looking like mini fireflies with how bright they are, and even with the headgear Mitch can see his eyebrows try to furrow.

“Herman-” Mitch breathes out, outstretching a hand and reaching for his face. Immediately his wrist is snatched by the Doctor’s free hand, but not hard enough to hurt, just stopping him from touching. The electricity doesn’t even hurt, feeling like a pleasant tingle as static clings to his skin.

The hand snatched is taken closer to the Doctor’s face for closer inspection. Hypnotically bright eyes land on the gold band and Mitch watches as his head cocks, glancing back to Mitch’s face, then back to the band.

A small shock is sent through Mitch’s frame and a gasp is sent through him as he watches his vision turn almost blindingly blue briefly. Almost...almost hallucinations swarming his visions of memories. Of arms wrapped around him from behind in the lounge room, of Herman slicing up vegetables in the kitchen, mundane tasks all leading to the last one of Herman. Black and orange fog surrounding him in a room with a severed head.

When Mitch blinks, he’s face to face with the Doctor who has now bowed his head and let his wrist go, near nose to nose with Mitch who finally lets one side of his lips curl up in a lopsided smile. “Herman.” He murmurs again, surer of himself as his hands come up to cup Herman’s cheeks. Feeling the heat of electricity radiating off his body, the dried blood under his fingertips, and how dry his skin was.

A man of few words, Mitch doesn’t feel the need to ask if this is where Herman had gone, if this is where he’d been taken, he doesn’t feel the need to cry either. It was as if he knew one day they’d be together again. Even if Herman was wielding a scary looking weapon and was clearly no longer human.

“My dear,” Echoes into Mitch’s mind suddenly like a click, a voice he’s familiar with, cooing the pet name so fondly as a hand comes to rest on Mitch’s waist. “You’ve still insisted on wearing the sweater vest?”

It’s such a playful thing to say that it makes Mitch choke out a laugh, affectionately nudging his forehead on Herman’s chin in a gentle bonk. “And you tear off arms of lab coat like animal?” His reply is thick with his accent, his voice hoarse from lack of use since he’d come to this realm. The response he gets in turn from Herman is that haunting laugh, shrill and high like multiple voices.

Herman tries to grab at his waist again to toy with the vest, but Mitch takes a step back, out of arms reach and watches as Herman watches him hungrily. A familiar and old look that meant he knew what Mitch was up to.

Mitch, in life, had been a huge tease. Liking to rile Herman up, tease him until Herman would shove him up against a wall and snarl about having his way with him. Similarly, Mitch could be very forward, insisting on taking what he wanted. With much consent on both ends, of course.

But a little roleplay after so much time apart certainly wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“You want off?” Mitch hums, letting a grin blossom onto his face as playfulness sparkles in his eyes. “Take.”

Herman’s eyes spark to life at that, the laugh that seemed to echo through both mind and reality itself leaving him as he takes his rod and smacks it twice against the palm of his other hand.

“As you wish, little thing.”

The chase begins after Mitch darts around the corner and begins running in a seemingly aimless direction. He’s run killers before, sure, but those were guesses of where to go. In a place he was familiar, with his husband of all people on his tail, it felt like there was no escape. He can feel the heat creeping on his back each time, can hear the laughter that follows it. When a shock is surged through him, he doesn’t scream like the others might, instead he only stutters his steps to gasp as red hot pleasure shoots up his body.

Well, that was an accidental side effect. Or perhaps an ability? He was unsure of what his ‘abilities’ were when he arrived, the other survivors said they found out in due time.

What a treat to conflict with the person of his affections.

Mitch finds himself running towards the other end of the institute, dodging around any running generators he hears despite knowing that the others will merely think he’s going to get caught. He taunts and teases the entire time, curling around walls and darting back around Herman just to hear him growl in frustration and chase him again.

By the time Mitch turns another corner, he finds himself in an office. The window is busted out, tinted glass on the ground. The desk has papers strewn all across it, filing cabinets left open and a chair spun out of the way. A couch with a fake plant rests in one corner, worn down from use and made of leather.

Nostalgia hits him quicker than he can think to turn around because it was a dead end. And it seems he’s been caught.

A hand grabs his wrist, curling fingers into the bone there and slamming Mitch back against the wall. A strong body fits against his own like a missing puzzle piece, knocking his glasses askew as a gasp escapes his lips. A powerful thigh nudges his legs apart, forced between them as well as his caught wrist thrust above his head and effectively pinning him.

“You have always liked riling me up.” The voice echoes through his head tauntingly, the grind of a thigh between Mitch’s legs making his breath hitch and eyes flutter. “Do you wish to do this while my goal is to ensure you do not leave?”

Quite the point, Mitch thinks to himself, but he knew Herman would never hold that rod against him until he had his fill. A little blood never hurt anyone, and Mitch doesn’t mind the idea of failing his own little survival mission if it meant his husband would not get punished.

Perhaps Mitch was a glutton for punishment as is. But if it was a punishment his husband could give him? Oh, he’d like nothing more.

So, he hums his approval with a little nod of his head, a smile crossing his face before fading to parted lips and a gasp when the thigh grinds up once again. Rocking him and making his own hips squirm. His free hand comes up to make a half assed push against Herman just to rile him up further, succeeding when he drops his weapon to snatch Mitch’s other wrist and slamming him against the wall.

Mitch’s lashes flutter, eyes falling to Herman’s mouth that’s split into a grin from the headgear. The need to kiss him is strong, the need to completely overtake his mouth and remember his taste- strong of coffee- lingering on the tip of his tongue. He has a feeling the headgear is screwed into place, so he offers a soft whine and a murmur of, “I wish I could kiss you.”

It’s the softest thing he’d say or do tonight. Herman matching with a soft, gentle press of their foreheads together. Something that perhaps would ruin the mood for any other couple who hadn’t had similar scenarios like this play out. It’s soft affection, probably the gentlest Herman has had in so long.

The thought makes Mitch’s heart constrict. Surely Herman was in his sadistic element, that much he could understand. But where was his pause? His reprieve?

Mitch’s breath fans across his face and at first, they just soak in the company together. Gentle, quiet, a pause in the storm they would soon create.

But the click of a generator starting makes both of them revive.

Mitch is first to move, pulling his head back and reeling it forward to knock Herman back in a short distanced headbutt. It only serves to make the Doctor grunt, leaning back and tightening his grip as he comes right back forward to get into Mitch’s personal space. Mitch’s victorious grin is soon wiped from his face as he’s thrown to the floor. Forced to his knees with a hand sliding into his hair and threatening with gentle static that he’d get his brain fried if he put up a fight.

Not that he would, of course. They both know that. Because if anyone were looking, you couldn’t see. But Mitch sees the way Herman tilts his head, a quiet question that Mitch nods to. Yes, he wanted this, yes, he liked it.

Mitch grins once more as he’s on his knees, scooting closer and nosing at the bulge below Herman’s belt buckle. The hand in his long hair, fisting his ponytail presses him forward so he can rub his cheek shamelessly against the tent with a longing sigh.

“Sorry,” Mitch murmurs adoringly, reaching up to help undo the Herman’s belt with practiced ease. Sliding his fingers down to his button and fly, undoing it with a bit of clumsiness with the shakiness of his hands. He bites his lip to stop a grin from happening when Herman grunts in confusion. “For escaping you.”

It’s a taunt. The way he says it as he flutters his lashes up at Herman to hint that he could have totally evaded him and won this round. He lets a grin creep onto his face as he hooks his underwear and pants down to mid-thigh, seeing how Herman is already half hard.

He always had such a pretty cock. Seven, verging on eight inches with a curved lean upwards. The head is bulbous, foreskin covering the sensitive lower glans and making the head shiny and flushed dark pink from arousal. In life he would have been shaved, and it seems it stayed the same in the realm as well with the smooth flesh revealed.

“I have almost had enough of your petulant teasing. Are you going to show you are sorry?” Herman’s voice rings in his head pleasantly, a low growl with his voice deepened in arousal. Fingers twist in Mitch’s ponytail, thrusting him forward until his mouth brushes against Herman’s cock.

Immediately to work, he presses hot kisses on the underside. Letting his tongue loll out to lick a warm, flat stripe from the underside to the head where he presses sloppy kisses. He moans when he licks up the precum, making sure Herman’s watching as he peers up at him from on his knees as he takes his cock into his mouth. At first, he just suckles on the head, letting the familiar weight settle and hearing pleased grunts above him and soft growls. It almost sounds like an animal.

It’s when Herman has had enough does Mitch start to scramble at his thighs. His ponytail is held taut as Herman fucks his mouth, making good usage of Mitch’s throat as he controls his gag reflex. His lashes flutter, eyes welling up with tears as his fingers clasp onto Herman’s pants at his thighs, eyes near rolling back into his skull as his throat is fucked.

Each lengthened thrust, where Herman holds himself just a bit longer, makes him whimper. Feeling himself strain in his own pants as filthy words bleed into his head. “Look at you, little one. Keep up your practice? ” “Good boy, you look at home down there.” “I can see how much you like it.”

At the last one, Herman adjusts to press the sole of his dress shoe on the front of Mitch’s pants just to hear him sob out through his nose and jerk his hips into his touch. So sensitive.

Finally, Herman pulls from his throat, yanking Mitch’s head back and letting him pant for air. He looks so pretty with his throat exposed, lips flushed and parted, lips shiny from saliva and some drool spilling down his chin. A filthy mess. A mess that Herman can’t help but grab the chin of, pressing his thumb to his lips just to watch Mitch greedily suckle at his thumbpad.

“Insatiable as always, my love.”

Another generator goes off and Herman is guiding Mitch to stand. Mitch tugs at Herman to come closer, bringing them to his desk so Mitch can lie on his stomach on top and let Herman tug at his pants. Lubricant possibly was something they would have needed in the institute for either any gear or keeping an area slick for suction cups, a bottle of which is found in Herman’s coat.

Prep is easy enough with how needy Mitch is. His cock is pressed to the desk flat, kind of hanging between his legs and twitching helplessly against the wood as Herman’s fingers work him open. The entire time Mitch squirms and sighs, his cock jerking and spilling some precum in a heavy, sticky drop that leaves a brief string leading from his cock to the floor that snaps under gravity.

By the time Mitch is stretched enough, and even then maybe not even enough, just when he starts to get antsy. Herman slicks himself up and pushes inside with a grunt from his chest, Mitch matching with a low moan into his arms that he has crossed under his head. A swear in his native tongue croons out when Herman’s hips are flush with his ass, another sigh leaving him when Herman’s grabbing his ass firmly and spreading him apart just to see where they’re connected.

Herman is quick to start a decent pace, making Mitch make soft sounds, digging his nails into the desk as soft sighs leave him. A hand slides up his waist to press to the curve of it, as if caressing him. And it would be sweet, but it’s not what he wants.

“You can do better than that, yes?” Mitch taunts, rolling his hips into the next thrust and hiding a grin in his arm when he hears a growl. A smack to his ass draws a soft moan from him, but he hides it with a laugh. “C’mon, be good boy, harder.”

The ‘good boy’ makes Herman huff behind him, this little embarrassed sound Mitch was so in tune with. Herman sure knew how to talk pretty and gave off an aura of dominance, but they both knew who led the relationship.

Immediately Herman obeys, picking up pace, fucking him harder as electricity curls up Mitch’s body where Herman’s hands touch. Mitch whines in return, his hips pressing back eagerly, practically humping the edge of the desk for some sort of stimulation to his neglected cock.

Each slam into his ass makes Mitch’s soft taunting turn into moans. Another generator clicks on and Herman gets practically frantic to fuck into him. Animalistic with his grunts and growls, occasionally laughter seeming to escape him as if he can’t help it. When Mitch opens his mouth to coo at him, he yelps when his ponytail is caught again.

Herman yanks him to stand practically upright. Forcing Mitch’s back to his chest as he fucks into him. Herman’s hand leaves his hair to wrap loosely around his neck, static threatening his fingertips as his other hand shoves down to jerk Mitch off. In Mitch’s head is an echo of things, all seeming to intertwine with each other like too many voices trying to talk to him at once. Conflicting possessive with praise.

“You’re mine.” “I adore you.” “You’re mine to ruin, little thing.” “I’ve missed you.” “You’re going to cum on my cock like the pathetic thing you are.” “Let me see you lose it, my dear.”

The stimulation and echoes are too much. Mitch feels the final push he needs and he’s cumming with a cry, one of his hands grabbing Herman’s wrist that rests near his throat. His other hand coming back to grip Herman’s hip and forcing him to stay close as Herman cums inside of him with a snarl. Cumming with Herman’s hand jerking off the base of Mitch’s shaft, Mitch’s dick jerks almost freely, cumming onto the desk, partially onto his own shirt and the papers left askew on the floor.

Mitch pants heavily against Herman’s body, feeling the strain on his neck relaxing and the almost violent whispering shushing in his mind.

There’s a careful sort of way Herman pulls out. But then something is being shoved into Mitch again and at first he whines in a muffled protest before relaxing when coos in his mind tell him to.

A plug is pressed into him to keep the cum inside. Herman helps him with his pants, patting his ass fondly as if mocking him in turn before another click of a generator happens. The gong of the bell alerting that gates could be opened perks Mitch’s ears, but not as much as the laughter behind him and the creeping feeling of electricity .

“Run, little rabbit. Before I decide to see what your insides look like.”

No, the Entity’s realm was not made for lovers.

But, perhaps maybe lovers with a twisted sense of humor.

#The Doctor #The doctor x oc #Mitch (Oc)#dead by daylight #dbd #dick by daylight #lemon #nsft #commissions #princess writing #Herman Carter

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abusybuzzingbee · 4 years

Text

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 4 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader

A/N::: I’m so sorry I was away for so long, I have been very involved in the black lives matter movement on my other social media, and have been taking the time to participate in protests around my city. If you would like to get involved in the movement but don’t know how, I would be happy to point you in the direction of helpful websites for petitions you can sign and places you can donate to. Please take this time to do your part and stick up for our black brothers and sisters.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: Canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other

Word Count: 7,927

Summary: The boys and the reader get a call from a man Dean and John worked a job for in the past. We learn a little bit about the reader’s past hunting experience, and possibly a newfound fear for her.

Series Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

Click here for the series playlist!

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber.

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam.

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to that asshole.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand.

“Dean found a case,” the younger Winchester informed you.

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?”

Sam sat on the chair across from your bed near the table. “We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.”

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah--” you nodded, “--gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded.

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts as well as people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and-- what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?”

“Oh, uh--”

‘Time to improvise. Probably not the best time to get into the daddy dearest situation.’

“--I met them on a hunt in California, I had just lost my hunting partner and was in need of some new ones.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry described.

“Why?” you asked.

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485--” the recording cut out with a static sound, “--immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message--” and cut out again, “--May be experiencing some mechanical failure--” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“All right,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...guys--and gal--the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store.

They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“All right, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head.

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shhh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“’ No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation.

“Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied.

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden.

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered.

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I--I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was...delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up.

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. Black eyes give me big demon vibes.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house.

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair.

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a...dentist?” Dean questioned.

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

“In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?”

“Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house.

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re a know-it-all,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic asshole that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded.

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you.

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him.

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys--” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away.

“Just drive, asshole” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat.

The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident.

Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean.

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the navy color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good.

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you.

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.”

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits.

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a...seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

***

You steeled your nerves as your white, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is, I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped.

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam.

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?�� Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag when you smelled the familiar scents of coconut and tobacco fill the air around you.

“We need to go,” you told the boys.

“What, why?” Sam asked.

“No time to explain, let’s just go, please.”

You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse.

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building.

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit.

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace.

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

Without hesitation, you lied, “I heard footsteps down the hallway. Sounded like they were running. Didn’t want to chance being what they were running towards.”

“Well then how come we couldn’t hear 'em?” Dean asked, his eyes flickering toward you in the rearview mirror.

“Maybe you’re just deaf, Dean-o,” you quipped.

“Don’t give me your smart-ass bull crap,” he warned. “I was closer to where we came in than you were. I would’ve heard them coming first. Tell me what really happened.”

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. I heard them coming, you didn’t. Simple as that,” you shrugged.

He studied you for a brief moment in his mirror, and you could tell he knew something wasn’t right.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned.

“‘Cause I know you’re lying.”

You scoffed. “Can you just get off my back? I’m not lying.”

“(Y/N)--”

“No, just stop. Get off my dick and leave me alone.”

Dean shook his head, his frustration with you clear.

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean, your frustration with the fact that he had caught onto you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place.

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed.

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sat in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur with finger guns, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?”

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you began.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was one of the toughest cases I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently.

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

***

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease--”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him.

“Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done,” you continued.

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry...Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?....I'll try to ignore the irony in that...Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone.

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.”

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of the plane was, in fact, sulfur.

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there hav====e been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“‘No survivors,’“ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

***

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway.

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother.

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean monotoned, his sarcasm strong.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas.

***

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven.

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?”

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a phone.”

He found a courtesy on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen...I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um...flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here...Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—...” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well...there must be some mistake--”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen.

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged...He's really sorry...Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so--... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic...Oh, yeah...No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!”

Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.”

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

“No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” you huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, (Y/N)?” he spat.

“Oh, man up,” you gibed.

“Hey, hey--” Sam tried to calm you both down before a fight broke out. “(Y/N) and I’ll go.”

Dean turned to his brother. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

“Come on! Really? Man...”

***

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, asshole?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.”

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.”

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat closest to the window of the plane, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind as he sat in the aisle seat.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered, who sat between you.

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded, leaning forward in your seat to look at Dean.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You and Sam snickered to yourselves as you leaned back in your seats.

A few minutes later when the plane had gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from two seats over from yours.

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied shortly.

“‘Some Kind of Monster?’ Really?“ you questioned.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.”

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?”

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water--” you leaned forward, snatching the bottle, “--And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied. You could tell he had not.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?”

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane.

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before Dean returned.

“All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence,” Sam coaxed.

“Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four.

“Okay,” you started, your tone harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry I can't,” Dean sassed, his grip still tight on the arms of his chair.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

“Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?”

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“Oh, look at that, Dean-o’s finally taking charge,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked.

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam.

“We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually--” Dean began, “--that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean.

“Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry--” she started, attempting to move past you, “--I—I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

"Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—”

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Honey, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

Dean, however, shoved his way to that spot just before you could.

You stumbled back, regaining your footing while fussing at Dean. “Um, Earth to asshole--” you moved to stand next to him against the wall, “--I was kind of standing there.”

He turned his face back to you over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he smirked. “I know.” Dean winked at you before turning back to face the curtain.

“Dick.”

“Bitch.”

“Guys!” Sam objected. “Focus, please.”

You heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

“Well, I don't underst—I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam.

“I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal.

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area.

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane.

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual. When you let him go, there was a slight tremble that rolled through the aircraft carrier. You took in a sharp breath, gripping onto the seats on either side of you as you faltered.

You looked up at Sam, eyes wide. “I think this whole demon dealio might’ve awakened my new biggest fear.”

***

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between each one.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah,” Sam conceded.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report.

Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse.

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys.

“Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man.

“You know, Jerry,” he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys-- and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words.

“This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him.

You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother.

You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head.

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Tags are open and feedback is always appreciated!!

Series Rewrite Tags:

@rach5ive @ppeachygemss

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean #dean winchester #reader insert #reader #spn reader insert #spn #supernatural reader insert #supernatural rewrite #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural series rewrite dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader angst

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m00nslippers · 5 years

Text

Why as a Jason Todd fan, I don’t talk about ‘punishing’ Jason.

I wrote this as a response on one of my other posts but I think it needs to be it’s own post.

I’ve been seeing a lot of ‘discourse’ about Jason fans not talking about the things Jason has done like shooting Damian (twice) and beating up Tim (twice) or railing on Bruce or Dick or whoever. They are annoyed that I and others are not calling for the pitchforks and continue to be sympathetic. I’ve seen some unreasonable people who seem to think no Jason fan will admit (at least to their satisfaction) that Jason has done bad things. Some seem to want me to admit that Jason is a bad person, which I think is unreasonable and untrue. They also think it’s unreasonable for me to hold the bat family responsible for not giving Jason adequate psychiatric care and emotional support.

So here. I’ll explain why I think the way I do.

Do I, as a Jason fan not talk about Jason’s violence that much or hold him as accountable as you apparently do? Maybe not, I don’t know, but if that’s the case then I’ll tell you why.

Jason-Antis see Jason’s violence as something he chose to do with full knowledge, presumably because he just likes hurting people or because he’s so selfish that he’s willing to hurt people to get something that benefits him and only him.

But that’s not how I see it. I see Jason’s violence as a symptom of abuse. The vast majority of the time, Jason’s violence is a reaction out of fear, to escape or prevent himself from being hurt or abused, or prevent the hurt or abuse of others.

Honestly the vast majority of time in society in general crime or abuse is a result of past abuse or other issues like poverty or the person’s needs otherwise being met. You meet the need, you treat the root, the unwanted behavior goes away.

Jason has been conditioned to violence for his entire life, by his upbringing in Crime Alley, by the abuse from his father, by Bruce training him to be Robin, by Talia training him to kill people. Jason’s entire life has taught him to use violence to meet his needs and solve his problems. It’s not his nature, it’s just all he knows how to do. He’s like a dog who has been hit and beat and starved and thrown into dog fights. Of course he’s going to attack people the moment he thinks he needs to. Is that the fault of the dog? No, it’s the fault of the human who trained him that way. So if it’s not the dog’s fault then should it still be punished? No, it should be re-conditioned in a place where it can’t hurt anyone until it’s safe to enter society.

But Jason is not a dog, he’s a human with logic and reason and empathy, you say. Yes, but the kind of systematic abuse and conditioning that someone like Jason has undergone will literally warp your view or reality, will interfere with your ability to use reason and logic and if you are afraid or desperate enough it will overcome your ability to empathize with others too.

But Jason’s actions often seem systematic and manipulative, you say, so doesn’t that mean he’s just hurting people for selfish reasons because he wants something? Not necessarily, Jason is highly trained and clearly makes decisions in a very systematic way. He’s highly intelligent and has a lot of self control, so he channels his fear into planning and strategy, which have been taught to him by others. Most times when he’s been really violent he’s actually been trying to get away/escape capture. Other times when he’s been violent he’s been very emotionally distraught. And still other times it’s in service of his goal to kill criminals–which is born out of his fear and pain of them continuing to hurt him or others. He might seem in control, but that’s only because of his training, and his constant planning and goal in itself is mostly a response to his constant anxiety and fear. He channels it into his revenge/execution plans.

So you look at me and you say, well fine, let’s say for arguments sake all Jason’s actions all stem from his untreated mental illness. But there still needs to be a punishment because what he did was wrong.

But I’m telling you that, logically speaking, no. He actually shouldn’t be, not if your goal is to prevent the behavior–which for Jason absolutely needs to be the goal because clearly punishing him is impossible if you aren’t going to kill him since he keeps escaping prison (which is part of his point, that punishment is either impossible or doesn’t work for some criminals. He is a walking case of his own point.). Punishing him isn’t going to stop him from killing people, it’s not going to stop him from hurting people, it’s not going to stop anything it’s mostly just going to make it worse. Because nothing the bats are willing to do is worse than what he’s already been through, what he’s already built up in his head as the consequence of not killing/hurting people. At this point every criminal he sees is just the Joker and he’s terrified at the thought of him/them walking free to hurt him or hurt others.

The bats tried to punish Jason multiple times, they’ve tried fighting him, they’ve tried imprisoning him, they’ve tried yelling at him, they’ve tried ‘reasoning with him’ (he’s sick, he’s not reasonable). But none of it worked. Jason kept killing, kept ‘acting out’.

But you know what curbed Jason from killing? Roy and Kori. Once he got friends who weren’t telling him every moment ‘you’re a killer, stop killing, you’re crazy’, who were emotionally supportive, who made him feel safe–low and behold he stopped or at least significantly calmed down. That’s honestly how I know that most of his behavior is anxiety/fear based.

And sure you can say, ‘well different people wrote different things it’s just different writers writing him differently you can’t read anything into it.’ Well maybe, but I can and I am. The more I read about him the less I actually want to throw out, the more cohesive it actually feels to me in a lot of ways. And If you are going to hold Jason responsible for everything he’s been written as doing, then you have to take his New 52 change too. You can’t have the first and not the second. Either he beat up Tim and shot Damian and calmed down as soon as he got friends, or neither count because they are both writers writing him ‘out of character’ and there’s not point even bringing those things up.

So to my mind at least, talking about punishing Jason is stupid, it’s pointless, and it’s pointless talking about it. That’s honestly why as a Jason fan I don’t and why I don’t dwell on the fact he’s done “messed up things to his family.”Yeah, I identify with him but I don’t identify with his ‘need for validation’. I identify with his need for psychiatric treatment that he can’t get because his family will not treat it as the disease it is, with the care he deserves. Because that’s been me before, and it’s a reality for a lot of people in the country I live in.

And yes, asking his family to recognize his illness and bring him in, to accept him and help him even though he’s actively hurting them is a lot to ask for the average family. But the bat-family is not the average family. They are geniuses and they have all been trained in psychology and victim treatment, and they are trained physical fighters who can protect themselves against him. If anyone can handle it, it’s them. They know better, they can do better. In a world with non-shitty DC writers they probably would do better. But if we’re taking all of Jason’s shitty writing, then we are taking all of theirs too. And I don’t think they are doing as much as they are capable of.

So that’s a problem which a lot of the anti-Jason arguments that I see. They are solely focused on the bad things he’s done, and saying his fans are ignoring them. They say ‘yeah he’s traumatized, but that doesn’t excuse him hurting people’. And from my perspective that’s missing the point.

And I don’t want to call anyone out or make assumptions about anyone, but this kind of thinking, that people with mental illness and people who commit crimes are responsible for their own actions and no one else is culpable even though their action or inaction resulted in their behavior–feels like the same kind of bullshit I see everywhere in society. This person steals–let’s not address the fact that they can’t afford to eat because they aren’t paid a living wage, let’s just throw them in jail. It’s the same mentality.

Punish the symptom instead of treating the illness. It’s just laziness, in my opinion.

#Jason Todd #Red Hood #mental illness #critical analysis #analysis #psychology #dc comics #batfamily #batman #fan wank #discourse #jason anti

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millie-ionaire05 · 4 years

Text

Saudade - Ot7 | 03

Ot7 BTS

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Rating: M (Mature)

word count: 1,894

Trigger Warnings: Hospitalization (rehab, mental institute). Mental health issues (Text Reason to 741741 if you need to reach out for help). Insinuated M x M (if you squint hard enough). Substance abuse (alcohol, pills | call 1-800-662-4357 if you are dealing with this). Weapons (gun, knife). Smoking (cigarettes, weed). Mentions of suicide/attempted suicide (National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255). Violence (murder/attempted murder). Mentions of blood. Mentions of therapy sessions (these are not accurate representations, please leave it to proper professionals). Mentions of physical abuse (Call 1-800-799-7233 if you are dealing with domestic violence) WE DO NOT GLORIFY THESE WARNINGS/TRIGGERS; THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY, AND DOES NOT RELATE TO ANY OF THE MEMBERS. IF YOU ARE DEALING WITH ANY OF THESE, PLEASE REACH OUT TO YOUR LOCAL AUTHORITIES FOR ASSISTANCE, OR THE NUMBERS LISTED ABOVE.

↤ Previous | 03 | Next ↦

January 19th, 2018 | 19:14

“Hoseok?” the older man questions, sticking his head out of the aluminum contraption called his home.

“Hey hyung,” Hoseok replies, his eyebrows coming up in question. “You gonna let a friend in?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen at Hoseok’s question before he steps to the side, signaling for him to enter. Hoseok smiles, trying not to let the tense atmosphere sway his happy expression. He was happy to see Yoongi. He was happy to see Yoongi. He continued that mantra in his mind as he stepped into the small living room.

Hoseok was surprised to find it clean inside, compared to the poorly kept outside, simple furniture set up to give the illusion of more space. “I didn’t believe Jimin when he told me you lived in a trailer,” Hoseok admits, his smile growing as he turns towards Yoongi. He doesn’t miss the way Yoongi’s eyebrows practically rise into his hairline.

“Jimin?” Yoongi questions, shutting the front door before shuffling into the living room as well. He motions for Hoseok to take a s“eat before asking, “Did you want something to drink?”

Hoseok shakes his head, patting the cushion next to him, coaxing Yoongi to take a seat. Yoongi hesitates, opting for the adjacent love seat instead, his hands coming up to rub against his pants. Hoseok knew to add to the facade he should comfort his friend, but he didn’t have the extra energy nor patience to bother. He was there for a reason, and he wasn’t leaving until he got his answers.

“You mentioned Jimin?” Yoongi starts, predictable as ever to the younger man.

Hoseok nods enthusiastically, leaning against the couch cushions and forcing his shoulders to look relaxed, bringing his hands together in an attempt to hide the shaking. By Yoongi’s expectant stare, he could tell that the older man wasn’t focused on anything else.

“We were in the same hospital. He showed up about...two months? Yeah, two months after I was admitted. Saw him in the common room after one of my sessions,” Hoseok explains, watching as Yoongi’s head nods up and down slowly, his lips pursed as his eyes unfocus. Hoseok knew he needed to reel him back in. “Finally got released after five months, so I’m just trying to catch up with everyone. How's Joon?”

Yoongi’s eyes come into focus at their friend’s name, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, and Hoseok’s eyes narrow at the gesture.

He’s nervous.

“Namjoon’s good. Still doing the same thing...just with more alcohol,” Yoongi mutters, his lips twisting into a scowl. Hoseok’s eyebrows raise at the information, and Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “He’s still having a hard time coping…”

Silence drags on for a few moments before Yoongi announces he needs a cup of water, leaving Hoseok to his thoughts. They were all still coping, but Namjoon was usually the most level-headed of them all. Hoseok was completely surprised that he was resorting to alcohol of all things. But then again, if Hoseok hadn’t been in rehab, he probably would have continued what he was doing to cope, too. He shook his head just as Yoongi walked back into the living room, his eyes going up to the older man. He needed to get his information quickly, and he had to be smart about it.

“Well, I hope he’s able to find a better way of coping soon,” Hoseok says, trying to insert sympathy into his tone. “Uhm...I know this is weird, but Jimin mentioned something about a psychiatric institution. You’re doing okay, right?”

Yoongi’s lips turn up into a half smile, clearly touched at Hoseok’s concern, or possibly at the fact that Jimin’s name was brought up again.

“Yeah, no I’m doing fine. It’s Bang-Son Psychiatric Care Center, but it’s not for me, it’s for…,” Yoongi trails off, his eyes casting to the cup of water in his hand.

“Has there been any progress?” Hoseok asks, switching to lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. He purposely furrows his eyebrows and puckers his lips a bit, making sure to emanate sympathy, and Yoongi was eating it up.

“I...I don’t know. At first there was nothing, it was like he was a robot,” Yoongi shivers at his words. “But for some reason, I have a feeling he remembers what happened.”

Hoseok nods his head slowly when Yoongi doesn’t continue, resting his head on one of his hands. “What did happen?”

Yoongi’s eyes shoot up to meet Hoseok's, pain and fear flashing in them before sorrow replaces them, his pupils dilating to almost consume his chocolate iris’. Hoseok freezes, not wanting to make a sudden movement and scare Yoongi away, but they just remain silent. Finally, after what feels like ten minutes have passed, Hoseok sits up.

“I mean, I know what the police reported. But, Jimin said you actually witnessed it,” Hoseok states, his hand coming up to mimic Yoongi’s gesture, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck.

The rumble of the air conditioning breaks through the ever growing stillness between them, causing Yoongi to jump in his place. Hoseok keeps eye contact, noticing that Yoongi tries to look anywhere but in Hoseok’s eyes.

“Hyung, what happened that night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, his lips pinching into a thin line. Hoseok’s irritation grows as the time ticks, but Yoongi makes no indication to open his mouth.

“So you’re not going to tell me?” Hoseok scoffs before getting up from the couch and heading back towards the front door. Hoseok can hear Yoongi shuffling quickly behind him.

“Wait-,” Yoongi starts, but is unable to finish, his expression rapidly morphing from desperation to shock, until he settles on a combination mixed with terror.

In Hoseok’s hand is an unmarked 9mm pistol, which rests seemingly comfortable in his fingers. His index finger rests just outside of the trigger, close enough to squeeze if Yoongi tried to attack him, but not close enough to squeeze by accident. It didn’t matter though, Yoongi was frozen in place, eyes wide at the sight of the gun.

“Tell me hyung. What happened that night?” Hoseok demands, but Yoongi continues to remain silent, and Hoseok couldn’t tell if it was because of defiance or fear. “If you won’t tell me, then I’ll just ask him.”

Hoseok smirks at the way Yoongi’s mouth drops open, his shoulders beginning to tremble. Yoongi was scared, so that means he saw something, maybe something different from what the cops reported. Which means he’s keeping secrets. Hoseok was stuck in rehab for five months while Yoongi got to enjoy the world, moving forward while knowing the truth. The thought had Hoseok's stomach twisting in envy and disgust.

Hoseok slowly steps backwards, making his way to the front door without leaving the sight of Yoongi, his free hand reaching back to grab the door knob. The cold steel of the door knob brings goosebumps up Hoseok’s arms, the hair on his neck standing on end, but he forces himself not to shiver.

“This won’t bring them back,” Yoongi whispers, almost too low for Hoseok to catch. It takes Hoseok a full minute to process the words spoken before his face expression hardens.

“You’re right hyung, it won’t,” Hoseok spits out, his lips curling until he’s scowling. “But this could be what helps me move on. I have a right to know.”

Hoseok wasn’t sure what he expected, but Yoongi’s silence wasn’t one of them. Hoseok opens the door and quickly runs back out to his car, slamming the car door as Yoongi’s silhouette blocks the light in the doorway. The older man doesn’t come any closer though, and Hoseok doesn’t give him a chance, he quickly turns the car on and shifts it into gear. Not even bothering with a seatbelt, Hoseok speeds away, forcing himself not to look back.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Yoongi watches Hoseok drive away, his body still quaking at what had happened. When had Hoseok become like that?

Yoongi doesn’t allow himself to dwell too much into that thought, his body already moving faster than his mind can bother processing anything. Next thing he knows, he’s in his room, a small duffle bag open on his bed. He grabs handfuls of clothes from his dresser drawers, stuffing them roughly inside the bag as he also attempts to pull his phone out from his jean pockets.

He almost sends his phone flying, his fingers shaking as he strives to re-orient himself and bring up his contact list. It takes him a solid five minutes before he’s able to find the person he needs, his thumb roughly jamming at the screen before he shoves the phone in between his ear and shoulder, his feet guiding him back to the dresser to continue packing. Yoongi starts to worry when the line just rings, but finally the person picks up after the fifth ring.

“Yoongi?” the deep voice questions, static filling the line briefly before clearing.

“Namjoon...Hoseok was here,” Yoongi says, his voice quaking and he tries to focus on not letting the phone slip from its position. “He tried to get me to talk about that night-”

“Did you say anything?” Namjoon interrupts, his voice increasing in volume.

“No, of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, stopping in his tracks and grabbing the phone from its spot. “Though I almost did when he pulled a gun on me.”

Silence envelopes the other line, the only indication Yoongi had that the younger man hadn’t hung up was the sound of heavy breathing.

“Do you think he’ll come here?” Namjoon finally asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Only two people saw what happened, me and…,” Yoongi stops, his free hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No, I don’t think he’ll go there, but I’m pretty sure I know where he’s going.”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Yoongi to answer. Yoongi places the phone back into the crook of his neck, making his way to the bathroom to resume his packing. After several minutes, Yoongi finally hears a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line.

“He’s going to see-”

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” Yoongi interrupts sarcastically, his lips curling in frustration. “Look I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’m packing my stuff and hiding out in my studio, since only you know where that’s at. I suggest you do the same.”

“Do you really think it’s come to that?” Namjoon questions, causing Yoongi to pause once again.

“All I know is when Hoseok finds out, we’re fucked. We kept it from everyone Namjoon, even the police!” Yoongi exclaims, stopping in his tracks once again. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want a vengeful Hoseok coming after me - I’d rather the cops take me in.”

Emptiness fills the line, and Yoongi has to look at the screen to double check that his friend hadn’t hung up. Suddenly, Yoongi hears rustling on the other side.

“Alright hyung. Stay safe,” Namjoon mutters before hanging up, leaving Yoongi baffled.

Yoongi doesn’t allow himself to stay surprised for long, forcing his feet to move as he puts the last of his things in his bag, taking one last look around before making his way to his front door and into the night.

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spaedia · 5 years

Text

PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO READ.

alrighty dudes, dudettes, and everything in between. this is the last post i intend to ever make on tumblr, so listen up. in regards to the bullshit “callout” posted the other day:

CALLOUT, I GUESS, FOR DEVIL AND CO, BUT MOSTLY DEVIL BC LET’S FACE IT, WITHOUT THE SCREENSHOTS YOU PROVIDED, YOUR ARGUMENT FOR WHY WART IS A BAD PERSON IS “HE DAMAGED MY EGO OWO”. YOU SAID THIS WASN’T YOUR PROBLEM? WELL I’M MAKING IT YOUR PROBLEM, ASSHAT.

so let’s start w/ the screenshots in question. i haven’t read the callout, so idk what was used, but considering i had upwards of 5 people come to me and ask me if i was okay, i can take a guess. let the record show that all of the messages i sent to dev and norgie regarding wart was in the midst of our breakup, which was messy enough as is. when wart and i first broke up, i had dev and co blocked bc of personal reasons. devil then decided to HUNT DOWN ONE OF MY BLOGS and follow me (after i assume staking it out, bc he’s known for stalking people). i confronted him, and he gave me some shtick about how he’ll “always care about me” and i’m “still his little sister”, blah blah blah other manipulative bullcrap. against my better judgement, i let him back in.

wart was my first boyfriend. i adored him with everything i had, so naturally, this breakup left me in a bad emotional state. devil and norgie took COMPLETE ADVANTAGE OF THIS, and when i told them what happened between wart and i, immediately began twisting it to make wart out to be the bad guy. it was norgie who originally suggested that i had been emotionally abused, and in my vulnerable state, i began to see things that way.

not that it’s anyone’s business, but if you wanna know how the breakup went, it was something like this: wart’s mental state was deteriorating, i suggested maybe we take a break, immediately went back on that statement, wart broke things off the next morning. there was no emotional abuse, no threatening of suicide, no physical violence - it was a breakup. things didn’t work out. it happens. but of course, this didn’t fit dev and co’s narrative, so they needed to get me to admit things were much worse than they were. when i later came to my senses and realized this was all bullshit, devil and norgie then decided to GUILT TRIP ME by pointing out how they spent “two hours” on call with me while i cried. after i had just had my heart broken. no shit i was upset. newsflash: wart spent a lot longer with me on call while i was breaking down. hell, he broke up with me and still let me cry on his shoulder. and unlike dev and norgie, he never once acted like i owed him, because that’s what friends do. but hey, go on and talk about how wart’s the abusive one.

devil has spent years abusing my trust. every time i tell him i don’t want so speak with him, he comes back awhile later with some new apology and reasoning for his behavior. and like most toxic relationships, it was hard to let him ago, especially after losing the person i cared most about. he blatantly took advantage of my situation to fuel his vendetta. the only reason i told him anything was because he promised me he wouldn’t make a post unless wart “stepped out of line” (which, looking back, is a huge red flag: what gives him the right to police other people?). and had i not begun to confront him about all the bullshit he made me say, he probably would have held off. in fact, he told me that one of the “main reasons” he felt this “needed to come out” was because i was starting to defend wart. when i realized that dev was serious about making this callout, i told him i wanted no part of it. he asked me for screenshots of some of my and wart’s conversations, to which i gave him a hard no. did that stop him from using our personal messages in his sorry excuse for a callout? of course not. these are the type of people who don’t care about anyone except themselves, dev has made that perfectly clear. MY PRIVACY AND AN INNOCENT MAN’S WELL BEING MEANT NOTHING TO HIM. all he and his friends cared about was spurring along their vendetta. and honestly, if i was wart, i would have sued y’all for harassment and defamation of character ages ago.

with the matter of those messages out of the way, let’s move on to dev’s actual claims. this is where the defamation gets real, because he had the nerve to call wart a predator. seriously? what, because he dated someone a few years younger than him?

dev loves to throw the word pedo.phile around, despite the fact that he obviously doesn’t know what it means. pedo.philia “is a psychiatric disorder in which an adult or older adolescent experiences a primary or exclusive sexual attraction to prepubescent children”. i started puberty when i was twelve, and wart and i didn’t even meet until i was fifteen. so immediately, he doesn’t fit the bill for a pedo.phile. #sorrynotsorry.

but let’s work around that. let’s say, that because he was romantically attracted to me, that automatically makes him a pedo.phile. i’m going to remind everyone of something devil would love to leave buried: the fact that, when i was thirteen, and again at fourteen, devil tried to coerce me into writing smut with him, along with a sixteen year old girl. he used my trust of him to assure me that it would be fine. his excuse? “my (ex)girlfriend made me do it.” cause that’s a solid argument alright. so fine, label wart a pedo.phile. i sure hope dev’s planning on giving himself the same label, because what he did is a lot worse lmao.

i don’t have screenshots from dev and my conversations, i think he deleted that account, but here’s him w/ the other girl.

so yeah long story short: dev knew this girl was underage, still tried to smut with her. take my word that he tried with me, i guess. i don’t think he’s ever denied it.

now, admittedly, i didn’t need to bring this up, but according to devil it’s important that predators get called out, so...he brought this on himself.

now i’m going to tell y’all the story of how wart and i started dating, because it really puts a hole in this “predator” story. see, for wart to be a predator, he would have had to target me in some way (come to think of it, much like devil did to me). when wart and i got together, dev and i weren’t talking, and i never got around to telling him how this happened, only that it did. (if i did tell him, i forgot about it, and that makes it even worse bc he knows this already lmao.)

it was may sixth. i was fifteen, wart was nineteen. we had been talking for awhile, and sometime in the past week or so, i had talked to my mom about liking this guy who was older than me. she told me about her own relationships with older guys when she was my age, and that so long as he didn’t try anything, she was fine with it. so on that spring day, i confessed my feelings to wart. and y’know the first thing he said to me? “wait a few years.” a logical statement, one i probably should have taken to heart, but i was a fool in love, so i didn’t. i spent the next hour or so convincing wart to go out with me, and he eventually pitied me enough (he’d admit to something along those lines not long after) to agree. neither of us expected this to become an actual relationship, but hey, a year and a half’s not a bad run.

to make a long story short: i asked wart out, not the other way around. i begged him to date me, not the other way around. and this wasn’t some secret relationship. my parents knew from the beginning, and gave it the okay.

i think i addressed everything in that lameass “callout”, but because dev’s The Worst, i know he’s going to pull at threads to try and get his “predator” accusations to stick. i’m going to post this, and devil will immediately reply “but wait!! he is a predator: you said you two slept together!!” and then post the message where i said exactly that, added some details to make it realistic, whatever, but then fail to post the message a few days later where i told him IT WAS A HALF-BAKED STORY.

see, after wart and i broke up, i heard rumors that he and i had been sleeping together when he was up here. i’m gonna shoot those rumors down right now. a) i’m asexual and sex repulsed. i wouldn’t sleep with someone if they paid me. devil and norgie know this, but they chose to ignore it in favor of a juicy story. b) the story i gave them was incredibly inconsistent. to the point where even devil pointed out my inconsistencies, but then conveniently forgot that ever happened, then, when i told him it was bullshit, TRIED TO INSIST IT WAS TRUE. as if he knows better than i do what happened lmao. c) wart and i were never alone for more than a few minutes. my bedroom walls aren’t exactly soundproof. my bed frame is metal, it squeaks whenever i sit on it. so yeah, obviously we got away with having sex. dumbass.

now, when i heard these rumors, i decided to roll with them. what did i have to lose, right? so yeah, i spiced it up, gave devil and norgie some random details to make it realistic, and told them not to tell anyone (which as far as i know, they haven’t, so thanks for not spreading rumors i guess). when devil brought it up to me during his rant about how this callout “needed to happen”, i pretty much laughed in his face and told him it never happened. and then he tried insisting it did and i rolled my eyes so hard i think i gave myself a headache.

tl;dr: someone started rumors that wart and i slept together, i confirmed them for shits and giggles, but no, it never happened, for all the reasons stated above.

oh, and as for dev’s reason for this vendetta? he’s told wart that it was because he (wart) wrote a character that dev wanted to write. i’m still convinced it’s over a fragile ego. either way, Real Mature, dude.

NOW i think i covered anything. phew, that’s a doozy. as i said, this is the last post i intend to ever make on this hellsite, but i encourage everyone who sees this to reblog it so that we can clear a (mostly) innocent man’s name. did wart hurt me? yes. was it enough to warrant this abuse?? not in the slightest.

my discord is still on my blog if anyone wants it (unless you’re friends with devil, norgie, kirby, or anyone else involved in this. if that’s the case, i’ll see you in hell). as for my legacy on this hellsite, let it be known that i tried to fight the good fight. i hope it’s good enough.

el psy kongroo.

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brajeshupadhyay · 4 years

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A man who became manic after being infected with coronavirus got so delirious he confessed to his wife that he used to have sex with men, doctors have revealed. The unidentified 41-year-old, who was treated at St Thomas’ Hospital in London, also became ‘highly aroused’ and uninhibited, questioning and inappropriately touching nurses tasked with treating him. He also became obsessed with ‘grandiose ideas’ and tried to smear water on fellow patients as if he were baptising them, medics said in a bizarre case report. The man was sick with a cough and fever for 10 days before he ended up in hospital and tested positive for Covid-19, which doctors believe triggered unusual symptoms. He eventually had to be sectioned under the Mental Health Act because he became so out of control. Describing the experience in his own words after recovering as ‘fascinating’, the man said he thought he was ‘trying to help the doctors as much as I could’. He added: ‘I began to think that I was part of a TV show, in which I was sent back from the future to save the NHS, and I was curious to see how this would end.’ The doctors said it was possible his episode was the first sign of a condition such as bipolar disorder — but did not diagnose him with that and instead put it down to the coronavirus despite admitting they can’t prove it for certain. One mental health expert told MailOnline it is well documented that immune system reactions can affect the brain and trigger mania such as what the man suffered, calling his episode ‘bizarre but not extreme’. There is growing evidence that Covid-19 can affect the brain and nervous system in various ways, the most common of which is losing the sense of smell and taste. There is growing evidence that the coronavirus, and the body’s immune response to it, can affect the brain and trigger mental health symptoms (stock image of a brain scan) Writing in the BMJ Case Reports medical journal, Dr Jamie Mawhinney and colleagues said: ‘This is, to the best of our knowledge, the first report of an acute episode of mania or psychosis as a result of SARS-CoV-2 infection.’ The man went to A&E in the early hours of the morning at the London hospital where Prime Minister Boris Johnson was treated for Covid-19. He had woken in the middle of the night feeling like his ‘brain was racing’ and telling his wife he thought he would die, doctors reported. He had told his wife about sex he had had with men, ‘mostly’ before they were married, which she had never heard him talk about before. The man also confessed to other ‘uncharacteristic’ sexual behaviours and became uninhibited and acted inappropriately while in the hospital. In the report the doctors said: ‘He was loud and highly aroused with sexual disinhibition and overfamiliar behaviour, inappropriately questioning and touching members of staff. ‘His speech was pressured, and his mood subjectively and objectively elevated. ‘His thoughts were grandiose with persecutory elements, and he had persistent strong religious ideas, manifestations of which included attempts to anoint fellow patients with water. ‘He also obsessively wrote down every personal interaction and bodily sensation. He said he found this experience “liberating”.’ The man’s behaviour became so uncontrollable he had to be sedated and was transferred to intensive care and supported with ventilation. Investigations confirmed that he was positive for SARS-CoV-2 – the virus which causes Covid-19 – but the virus was not found in his spinal fluid, which would have proved it was in his central nervous system and could have travelled to the brain. After 24 hours on ventilation, he was moved to a ward where his coronavirus symptoms lessened, but mental state remained abnormal. COVID-19 CAUSES DELIRIUM AND STROKE IN ‘HIGHER THAN EXPECTED’ PATIENTS Infection with the coronavirus can cause delirium, stroke and nerve damage in ‘a higher than expected number of patients’, a study has found. Experts from University College London have reported a ‘concerning increase’ amid the pandemic of a rare brain inflammation known to be triggered by viral infections. Typically seen in children, acute disseminated encephalomyelitis — or ‘ADEM’, for short — affects the both the brain and spinal cord. The condition — which can follow on from minor infections such as colds — sees immune cells activated to attack the fatty protective coating that covers nerves. The researchers have warned that clinicians need to be aware of the risk of neurological effects to help early diagnoses and improve patient outcomes. ‘We identified a higher than expected number of people with neurological conditions such as brain inflammation,’ said paper author and consultant neurologist Michael Zandi of the University College London. The appearance of these conditions, he added, ‘did not always correlate with the severity of respiratory symptoms.’ ‘We should be vigilant and look out for these complications in people who have had COVID-19.’ ‘Whether we will see an epidemic on a large scale of brain damage linked to the pandemic — perhaps similar to the encephalitis lethargica outbreak in the 1920s and 1930s after the 1918 influenza pandemic — remains to be seen.’ The researchers also found that other neurobiological complications — including delirium, stroke and nerve damage — appear to be associated with coronavirus. In their study, Dr Zandi and colleagues studied 43 patients — aged from 16-85 — with both neurological symptoms and either confirmed or suspected COVID-19 that were treated at the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in London. According to the researchers, many of the patients did not experience any of the respiratory symptoms often associated with the coronavirus. Among the cohort, the team identified 10 cases of temporary brain dysfunction with delirium, eight cases of strokes and eight cases with nerve damage. There were also 12 cases of brain inflammation — with nine of such patients being diagnosed with ADEM. Under normal circumstances, the London-based team said that they would only see around one adult patient with ADEM per month, on average — but that this figure has increased to at least one patient per week amid the pandemic. Further studies are needed to identify exactly why some COVID-19 patients are developing neurological complications, the researchers concluded. ‘By day eight, his behaviour had escalated further culminating in a security call and emergency sedation for the safety of himself, the ward staff and other patients,’ the report said. Psychiatric assessment found features consistent with acute mania – a state of extreme energy and arousal which can be euphoric but lead to violence – and he was detained under the Mental Health Act. Mania is often conceived as a mirror image to depression, with the two moods associated with bipolar disorder. The man was transferred to an psychiatric hospital and commenced on regular olanzapine – used to treat schizophrenia and certain types of bipolar disorder. Twelve days after being sectioned, the patient’s mania finally subsided and he was discharged. Reflecting on his experience, the man said: ‘I was taken to hospital on the 4th April with what I would describe as the worst headache of my life. At this time, I had been suffering with the symptoms of Covid-19 for over a week. ‘I was in hospital for a total of 20 days with psychosis and mania, which I experienced as fascinating. ‘This may seem strange from an outside perspective, but I was, in my mania, trying to help the doctors as much as I could, while at the same time trying to make sense of my condition. ‘For my family and friends it was frightening. Luckily, they had a lot of support from each other, and from the great team of doctors at St. Thomas hospital.’ On follow-up, doctors revealed the man was slowly being weaned off antipsychotics while his wife said he is now back to ‘his baseline level of function’. The doctors said they couldn’t rule out the first manic episode of bipolar disorder – which the patient’s sister had been diagnosed with previously. But it was clear the drastic changes in behaviours started at the same time as his tell-tale coronavirus symptoms. Professor Anthony S. David, director at the University College London Institute of Mental Health and author of ‘Into the Abyss: a neuropsychiatrists notes on troubled minds’, told MailOnline the man’s condition was ‘bizarre but actually not so extreme’ He said: ‘Psychiatrists talk about hypomania – a mild form of mania with elevated mood and feeling “high” – but mania proper includes delusions, typically grandiose, e.g. that one is god or has special powers, talking very fast, spending money and being disinhibited sexually. So this is what mania looks like. ‘Mania can be triggered by stress, lack of sleep, physical illness, drugs etc – but you have to have a predisposition. This man’s family history is probably relevant.’ He said that doctors are seeing growing numbers of neurological symptoms of Covid-19, but that they usually seemed to be caused by the immune system, rather than the virus itself getting into the brain – although this was possible, too. Professor David added: ‘Fever on its own disrupts thinking and could be enough to tip someone over into mania, if they were predisposed. A change in sleep-wake cycle is another cause. ‘The immune system can affect the brain – that is why we all feel generally yuck when we have an infection, even if the infection is in another part of the body. Inflammatory chemicals and cells circulate and some can affect the brain. ‘The more specific effect – which is rare but well recognised following other viruses – is that an immune response is triggered and the antibodies end up attacking the person’s brain in an effort to kill the virus – sort of “collateral damage”. ‘Depending where the damage is concentrated, this can cause delusions as well as affecting consciousness, memory etcetera.’ He said some medications being used to treat coronavirus, such as steroids, are known to cause mania and psychosis. The man is not known to have been receiving treatment before his episode began, however. Doctors pointed out Covid-19 manifests in a number of ways affecting multiple systems – including the central nervous system (CNS). The coronavirus enters human cells by latching onto ACE-2 receptors on the surface. Although the lungs are the key site for expressing ACE-2 in the body, it is also found in endothelial cells in the brain. This may provide a route into the CNS. Previous reports have linked SARS-CoV-2 in the development of viral encephalitis – inflammation of the brain causing delirium, changes in personality and confusion. Yesterday University College London revealed study findings that the coronavirus can cause delirium, stroke and nerve damage in ‘a higher than expected number of patients’. Experts from University College London have reported a ‘concerning increase’ amid the pandemic of a rare brain inflammation known to be triggered by viral infections. Of the patients they studied with altered brain function, none had detectable levels of the coronavirus in the brain or spinal fluid – much like the 41-year-old case report. This, they explained, suggests that the virus did not directly cause the neurological symptoms and that some complications of COVID-19 ‘might come from [one’s] immune response, rather than the virus itself.’ They said it ‘remains to be seen’ if the pandemic causes an epidemic of brain damage. The post Delirious coronavirus-infected man confesses to his wife that he used to have sex with men appeared first on Shri Times.

http://sansaartimes.blogspot.com/2020/07/delirious-coronavirus-infected-man.html

#SEO #Local SEO training #daily news paper #daily news india #daily news newspaper #technology news a

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sick-raven · 5 years

Text

Ghosts of the past - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine

About: Miranda Bradbury moved to Gotham for a few reasons - to enjoy her career as an assassin, and to face her fears. Who else should help her with hallucinations that follow her than the fear expert Jonathan Crane? However, the doctor-patient relationship is very unstable one as both of them have to fight with their past, their present, and Batman.

Author note: I was trying to figure out some fancy way to describe the story. It's just a porn with a plot about two sick freaks. Enjoy.

Fair warnings: Suicide attempt, rape mentions, nsfw, violence, light bdsm

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

Can also read at AO3.

Chapter 1

It was a dark evening in Gotham. Now, every evening was dark, but in Gotham with its never-ending mist of smog, it was especially dull and uncomfortable. Street lights wouldn’t break the darkness, windows only shined TV light out and painted pictures of entertained families, or dining families, or, as most common in Gotham, arguing families.

Gotham was also loud and Terry Borrows hated that fact. They’ve never got used to constant car noises – revving of engines and horn honking that all coming back twofold in echoes bouncing from walls of thin streets. Annoying, headache causing. Terry would rather listen to their boss shouting all day.

They were hyper focused on the noise. On their check-up doctor said it’s nothing weird and then asked for payment in amount of Terry’s two-month salaries. Thief.

That’s when they heard it. Soft, almost silent ding. As if you try to get attention at the wedding table and you hit the crystal glass with a spoon. Once. Carefully. It sounded almost magical in this grey place.

Ding.

Terry stopped. At the end of the narrow street they saw a shadow. It was a person kneeling next to something on the ground. Terry didn’t see any details, but dread climbed on their back. This is Gotham. Terry should run. It doesn’t matter what were they witnessing, the logical thing is to…

Ding.

The person looked his way. Every little move was followed by that soft jingle.

And then Terry realized they can’t move anymore. The jingle dinged louder. And louder. The sound vibrated through the streets catching them right by the soul. Terry realized they can’t breathe. Their heart was racing like crazy and their head hurt from wave of sound around them.

The person… a woman… walked straight to Terry, bringing the sound with her. In the dark Terry recognized a scarf on her face and… oh god… bloody knife in her hand.

Run! They tried to move their legs. Nothing.

The sound. The fear. The knife.

Finally, Terry’s body gave in and they fainted. They didn’t see the woman touching their neck for pulse. Nor did they hear the sound stop as the woman left without hurting them.

In the street, there lay another body.

***

Miranda Bradbury really liked Gotham. She felt like a character in gothic romance. Darkness, never-ending mist and bad weather, creepy architecture and constant danger. She enjoyed Gotham since she’s moved here two weeks prior. This city was crazy. Mental even! During the time period she tried to adapt to her new environment, she’s already seen the clown terrorizing city, the Riddler enslaving a whole block and some maniac with knives kidnapping people trying to lure in the Bat.

Oh, yeah. Batman. Before she didn’t understand. How can the police just let mask vigilante on loose? She understood after two days. This city…

This city also ruined her business right away. She moved here, opened a toyshop and that was it. The empty place flourished under her care, filled with toys, decorations and joy. The shop was in pretty good part of town, and yet – no customers. Too late she found out this used to be a toyshop of some crazy guy – calling himself the Toymaker – who tried to kill the city with explosive teddy-bears and sentient Barbie dolls.

Yes. This city was mental.

And she loved it. She always tried to blend in, be the grey mouse in her warm turtleneck and messy brown hair. After witnessing crazy punk-rock fashion of this city she realized she stood up more like this. At least she can pass for naïve outsider. That’s always a plus in her line of work.

The fourth day and finally two guys entered her shop. They looked around with deep uninterest in their eyes. Walked through isles touching stuffed toy here and there or picking up a toy car and putting it back two seconds later. Miranda waited patiently at the counter, small smile on her lips.

They finally stopped in front of her. She suspected they are twins as their expression were the same – dull and bored. They were dressed like gangsters from twenties. Gotham was weirdly stuck in time.

“G’morning, lady,” said one of them despite it being deep afternoon. “We’ve come to talk.”

“How much?” Miranda asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How much?” she repeated not losing her patience. She adored the confused looks. “This isn’t my first rodeo, gentlemen. How much is the protection fee?”

“Straight lass, huh?”

“Partially,” Miranda joked. “I hate beating around the bush.”

“Don loves people like you. Right to bus’ ya know? It’s ten percent if you don’t want’cha place to burn.”

Miranda overlooked the empty store. Ten percent of nothing is… probably not suitable for Don Falcone, one of the mafia leaders of the city. Before setting the shop, Miranda made her research on the city’s bad guys. Always ready. Don Falcone won’t care, he will just want his cash. She started to think she underestimated the marketing. Be better PR, Miranda, it’s not that hard.

“Tell me, friends,” she started with a nice voice, “how does Don Falcone feel about illegal businesses?”

***

Miranda moved to Gotham for various reasons. One of them was the fact she was constantly on the move. She’s never spent anywhere more than two years. The last city she was in was Star City and that didn’t go well for her with all the supers around.

The second reason was that she’s always heard about Gotham as this sick place. The city corrupted by illness eating itself out like a wounded animal. That intrigued her and she felt as if this is the proper place to hide and never be found. And if she is, it will be probably in the dumpster behind some chemical plant. She could live with that future in mind.

The third reason… the main reason she wasn’t afraid to admit, she just didn’t want to deal with it… was him. Professor Jonathan Crane. Miranda took years of stupid, non-working, useless therapy to end up here. Her… could she even call them fears?... were crippling. And she needed the best. Jonathan Crane was the best. The fear specialist with shady background. But that’s Gotham for you. You might do inhumane experiments on your students and don’t get your licence revoked.

Miranda should probably be afraid of someone like that. Ridiculous idea. He was still running decent psychiatric office and all reviews threw him five stars. She will be careful. She just really needed help.

This was the part she hated. Explaining. She sat in front of the professor. He was fairly young for the title. Miranda’s looked through his files too, though he has been careful keeping most of the information hidden. Star student, at least he used to be. Those climb the leader fast. He wasn’t even forty yet, his ginger hair hid possible grey hair very well. He was watching her with his intense blue eyes and almost never blinked. He waited for her to get everything out. Miranda hated those stories. Repeating them again always made her feel crazy. She probably was.

“It’s complicated. I will try to make it short.” Now, Miranda, where is your hate for beating around the bush, huh? Just tell the nice doctor you are a fucking madwoman.

The professor was silent. Waiting. Even sitting he was very tall, and she noticed his fingers being thin and bony, just like his whole appearance.

“I have a problem. I’ve seen tons of shrinks about it already. Most of them gave up on me or drugged me to no avail. The thing is I have this weird… I don’t know… Phobia. Causing me panic attacks, crippling me.”

“That is not uncommon for deep fears,” said the professor. Miranda wondered how can shrinks be so calm. If someone told her they are crazy, she would probably joke about it right away.

“Yes, I know. I was told that hundred times already. There’s a catch.”

“Do tell.”

Miranda shuffled in her chair. No matter how many times she has talked about this it still made her uncomfortable and she felt like an idiot. But she had to fight this. Or she might…

“It’s ghosts. I panic around ghosts.”

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but Miranda quickly stopped him.

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. That’s nonsense. I just call these things ghosts. It’s like… hallucination I keep having. They appear and it’s like someone caught my heart and pulled it out of my chest. I feel dead. I cannot move, I cannot act, think, anything. But according to all the doctors, I am sane.”

“When do these ghosts appear?” Professor didn’t even flinch. Nor blinked. He heard crazy talk daily why should she be any more interesting?

“They first appeared a little over a decade back. This is when the first attack happened. Then I got a charm, see?” She touched her necklace. Simple round silver ball that jingled softly when moved. “It keeps them away. When I take this off, I see them. I get attacked right away.”

“May I see?”

She held the pendant firmly. “Sorry, I don’t take it off on the first date.”

Her joke created tiny smile on his face. “Understandable.”

He asked more questions and she tried to answer as truthfully as her crime record allowed. By the end of the session she felt like dried out sponge.

“Don’t be afraid, miss Bradbury. We will figure this out,” professor said when she was leaving.

“Funny you say that. I can’t really feel the fear,” she smiled and that ended their first meeting.

***

Terry Borrows way lying in the hospital bed. They hit their head during the horrid night which caused a mild concussion. The doctors were also worried about their heart because it showed signs of arrythmia. It disappeared a day after the incident, but everyone was head over heels with this situation.

“They keep me here because they want to blame it on me,” wrote Terry to their friend. “Because they have nobody else for the murder.” Terry believed that. This wouldn’t be the first time Gotham has fucked them over. At least they survived. Witnessing murder first hand was like being sentenced to death.

So, they were bored on the hospital bed, half asleep, half awake, back hurting from cheap bedding. Eyes closing and opening again just to see how far the sun has moved or whether the food was ready.

Closing. Opening. The sun was setting.

Closing. Opening. Darkness.

Closing. Opening. Shadow.

Terry’s heart nearly stopped. They shouted by surprise. They are definitely going to die now!

“Terry Borrows,” said the shadow with a deep voice. “I have few questions for you.”

Terry was struck by fear. The rational part of their brain wanted to scream. They didn’t. They watched a man dressed as giant bat and their voice trembled.

“Y-yes?”

“What did you see at the crime scene?”

“I already told the police everything.” There was panic in their voice.

“Tell me.”

“There was a woman, she killed someone. She had some sort of mask. She… ah!”

The door opened. The nurse stepped between the doorframe, looked at Batman and then strategically left closing the door behind her. Terry swallowed a curse.

“Continue,” demanded Batman.

“The sound. It was the sound that made me faint.”

“What else can you remember?”

“The jingle. She was jingling like some fucking Christmas tree.”

“What about her movement?”

“What about it?” asked Terry. Batman just waited to let them figure out what he means. “I don’t know. I saw her just for a few seconds. She was hidden in the shadows.”

“Thank you, Terry.”

“You are welcome?” answered Terry unsurely. Then the door opened again, and doctor stormed in ready to shun the uninvited guest.

But he was already gone.

Chapter 2

#jonathan crane #batman #fanfic #writing #writeblr #ghosts of the past #sick raven writing

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fanficshiddles · 5 years

Text

Seeking control, Chapter 15

Warnings: Bit of violence. But to be fair, if you’ve come this far... *shrugs*

It was day eleven of Ellie’s unwilling stay in the psychiatric hospital.

Tom was very thorough with her treatment every day, even at the weekend. She was worried he would hate her for having to work those days, but he assured her that he wanted to be there for her.

When he administered her treatment, Ellie gave him a hand job every time. Though she didn’t mind, she felt at least she was paying him back in a way. And it certainly helped that every time they did it, he was always hard and wanting. Not to mention the noises he made was so erotic, she found herself completely drawn to him.

But this day, Tom decided to step it up a notch. He wasn’t satisfied with just her hand anymore. He wanted her.

Completely.

He was sat on the bed with Ellie, they were having a small chat as always before he would commence treatment for her.

‘There’s just a few more days before your two-week assessment. And, I’ve been doing my research quite thoroughly. There is another treatment we can try, that is supposed to be much more efficient than what we’ve been doing.’ He said softly, stroking her face with the tips of his fingers.

‘Really? Wh… what is it?’ Ellie asked, at this point she was willing to try anything to help speed up the process of getting out of there.

Tom smiled sweetly at her and rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand.

‘I was reading through the best way for treating hysteria, and I came across old doctors’ files that confirm the best treatment is male sperm.’

Ellie’s eyes widened and she blushed even harder.

‘Sperm?’ She squeaked, swallowing hard.

‘Yes. Think of it as your hysteria is a fire within your womb, and a man’s sperm is the hose that will douse the fire.’ Tom trailed his fingers down her neck, making her shiver. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to suggest next.

She actually giggled slightly at his choice of description. That made Tom’s smile even larger, he did enjoy that sound and hoped he would hear more of it…

‘So, what do you think? It’s worth a try, isn’t it?’

‘I… I don’t know.’ She became anxious again, fiddling with her hands in her lap that she looked down at. But her hands were quickly covered with Tom’s and he gave her a squeeze.

‘We will both benefit from this, and enjoy it. I think there’s been enough proof that we both would after your treatment thus far. It’s a more efficient way of getting you better. And I promise that I will be gentle, darling. We can take our time.’ His voice lowered to a sultry seduction as he reached up and gently cupped her right breast in his palm, even through her jumper she breathed in sharply.

‘Do you… do you want… to do it?’ Ellie managed to ask, her heart was racing like crazy at the mere thought of having sex with Tom.

‘I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t.’ He chuckled, leaning over to kiss her cheek, but he let his lips linger on her skin. ‘On the contrary, I would be most obliged to help you in this way.’

He smirked when her she gave him a full body tremble.

‘Be a good girl for me, take off your clothes… All of them.’ He purred, leaning away just enough to give her some breathing space.

Ellie hesitantly grabbed the hem of her jumped and pulled it off. Tom couldn’t hold back a deep growl at seeing her breasts. He managed to refrain from touching them while she wriggled her trousers off and put them to the side with her jumper.

‘You’re such a good girl, you’re going to be better in no time.’ He praised, moving on top of her in an instant, between her legs.

She basked in his praise, the thought of getting better too was almost as good to hear. Tom could see the way her face lit up. He pressed a hungry kiss upon her lips, unable to resist as he grinded against her, making sure she could feel his impressive bulge between her thighs.

Ellie struggled to breathe while his mouth was on hers, like he was sucking the air right out of her lungs from the intensity of the kiss. His tongue rough and moving quickly with hers.

His thumbs went to her nipples, teasing and rubbing them firmly. Making her body jerk as little pleasurable jolts shot through her body.

When he eventually stopped, letting her breath again, she gasped down as much air as possible.

He started to attack her neck with the same amount of vigour, sucking and nibbling against her delicate skin. He buried his fingers into her hip with one hand, while the other tickled down her front until he reached between them and pressed against her. She bucked up against his hand, moaning already.

Tom wasn’t surprised to find her wet already, prepared for him. So he unbuckled his belt, undid the buttons on his jeans and the zipper, so he could release his cock. He didn’t bother to undress, enjoying the power it made him feel to have her completely naked and writhing beneath him while he was still clothed.

When he pressed the tip against her, she let out a cry and her head fell backwards. With his thumb strumming softly over her clit that was desperately begging for attention, he started to push into her. She was still so tight, just as tight as the first time he took her.

For Ellie, she had never felt anything quite so filling before as he eased his way into her until he bottomed out in her soft warmth. Her arms automatically went around him and she dug her nails into his back, marking him slightly even through his shirt.

‘Please.’ She whimpered when he didn’t move an inch, just waiting and enjoying the way her body squeezed around him.

Hearing her begging, even slightly, was like music to his ear. He granted her wish and started thrusting, not easing her in as gently as he had originally said. Because he couldn’t resist, he couldn’t help himself. His hips snapped roughly against her, knocking the wind from her as she gasped with every thrust.

She cried out in pleasure, her voice strained as she cried in ecstasy. It was soon mingled with Tom’s grunting and groaning. The sweat formed on his forehead as he kept moving, quicker and quicker, rougher and rougher. Like he was trying to climb inside of her.

Ellie started crying from the intensity, and the way he bit hard on her shoulder as he struggled to contain himself. But he couldn’t. Finally being inside of his Ellie doll, with her awake, it was too much.

‘Come for me, Ellie.’ He snarled, demanding and eager, wanting her to come when he did.

When Tom snapped his hips against her one last time, his angle slightly different, that set her off. And feeling her contract tightly around him, was more than enough for Tom who had been ready to come from the first thrust.

He let out a cry along with her while he held himself as deep as possible, spilling into her. Just as he described, like a hose dousing out the fire inside her.

Ellie hadn’t felt anything like it before, feeling him pulse and squirt his warm load into her. What also surprised her, was the fact he didn’t pull out. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, breathing hard and deep while he remained plugged.

The two were shaking, sweaty and high on the rush of pleasure. Tom’s arms trembled when he tried to push himself up more, to look at her face. He cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip that was looking quite red and plump from his attack.

‘I think that might do it.’ He grinned.

Ellie couldn’t respond, she still couldn’t quite believe that her hot Doctor was currently balls deep inside of her cunt, holding in all his sperm. Would this treatment truly help her?

Tom stayed nestled securely inside for another five minutes, he spoke gently to her and gave her light kisses all over her face to soothe her and keep her calm. He had a feeling she may start to come to her senses and freak out soon if he didn’t.

‘That’s my good girl. Now, I’m going to go and get a few things. I want you to wait here, I will be back soon.’

She nodded, her eyes were watering up but she managed to contain her emotions. Tom got up and he used some toilet roll to clean himself off first, then tucked himself away and left the room.

Ellie’s mind started to race about what just happened. But she didn’t get long to think about it before Tom returned. He had a glass of water, some pills and a cloth.

She noticed there was an extra pill there than normal, but she didn’t question him at all. She popped the pills and downed them with the water. That made Tom smile, he stroked her hair, pleased that she trusted him so much.

He had her sit back against the headboard of the bed and spread her legs, so he could clean her up with a warm cloth. That made her feel so floaty, the way he was taking care of her.

‘Thank you, Tom.’ She whispered once he was finished.

He looked up at her from between her legs and smiled. ‘You’re welcome, Ellie.’

The same routine for the two was carried out for the following few days. But then one night, Ellie was getting ready to sleep for the night. Well, as well as she could with hourly check-ins, when a male nurse entered the room. His name tag revealing he was called Nick.

Ellie sensed that something was off. She could tell by the way he walked over to her, a horrible smirk on his face. When he crowded her space, she tried to get away but he crawled onto the bed and roughly pinned her down.

Tom went in to see Ellie early the following morning. But his heart sank when he found her in the corner of her room, huddled up on herself crying hysterically. Naked.

‘Ellie? What happened?’ He rushed over to her and knelt down at her side. She instantly grabbed onto him, crawling onto his lap and wrapping her limbs around him tightly as she sobbed into his neck.

‘Speak to me, Ellie.’ He demanded, rubbing her back to try and soothe her at the same time.

‘I… he… raped me.’

Tom’s blood boiled instantly. But he remained calm until he got Ellie onto her bed and calm enough to speak.

Her body was still shaking and she couldn’t speak properly from hiccupping. But Tom got the gist. He got the name of the nurse and description. Once making sure she was stable enough, he helped her to shower. Helping her to make sure she was thoroughly cleaned, then once she was dressed again and had her pills, he stayed until she fell asleep. Since she hadn’t slept through the night from her ordeal.

Once she was asleep, Tom stormed out of the room and went on the hunt for the nurse. He found him in the staff room, Michael was there too. He looked just as confused as the rest of the nurses there when Tom launched for Nick and punched him square in the jaw.

‘How fucking dare you!’ Tom snarled and moved on top of the guy, holding him by the collar he landed a few more punches to his face, blood from Nick’s mouth and nose spurted out all over the floor and onto Tom’s shirt, but Tom didn’t care.

‘Woah, Tom! Calm down!’ Michael managed to pull Tom off Nick. But as soon as Nick was back to his feet and Michael let go of his friend, Tom was back on the guy. He pinned him to the wall and put his hand around his neck, choking him.

‘If you EVER touch her again, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!’ He roared, squeezing as hard as he could until the guy almost passed out, then he let go of him and watched as he slumped down to the floor coughing and spluttering for air.

‘Tom, what the hell is going on?’ Michael demanded, dismissing the rest of the nurses from the room.

‘That bastard raped my Ellie!’ Tom snapped, his hands still balled into fists and his jaw clenched angrily.

Michael’s eyes darkened and he glared at his employee. ‘Is this true?’ He barked.

The nurse managed to scramble up against the wall. ‘No! I never touched her!’ He lied.

Michael was then the one who launched for Nick and held him by the neck. ‘I want the truth!’

‘Ok! Ok!’ Nick struggled to say. ‘I’m sorry!’

Michael released him and landed a punch on his face himself. ‘I told you not to touch her! Get the fuck outta my sight! You’re fired!’

Nick managed to run away out of the room, stumbling into the wall on the way as he was disorientated.

Michael turned to Tom. ‘I’m SO sorry, Tom. I told them all to stay away from her.’

Tom took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring angrily as he tried his best to calm down.

‘It’s time.’ He said firmly then stormed out of the room.

#Tom Hiddleston #seeking control #fan fiction #pervy doctor #doctor Hiddleston

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