#also YES I know I spelled apocalypse wrong if I see anyone pointing it out i’ll cry

[elizaisdunn]

season five of TMA? oh you mean the one where the Eye third wheels jmart as they take a lovely stroll through the apocalyptic hellscape that is england

[pandoraborn]

The Cruelty of the Beast - Part 5

(Previous)

Characters: c!Dream, c!Ranboo Word count: 1872 words Content: mild manipulation, dark!fic, vomiting, pending apocalypse, manipulation, puppet!ranboo, puppetmaster!dream, mild bonding, mild mind control, mention of abuse

------

“Ranboo, come with me.”

Dream’s voice is curt, almost with an annoyed undertone to it. Ranboo doesn’t hesitate, not wanting to cause trouble. With a glance over in Tommy’s direction, Ranboo gets to his feet and follows Dream out the front door. He glances back toward their cabin, trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings.

They’re in what looks like a taiga, and the cabin they’re in blends in with the trees and even the cobblestone surrounding the area. It’s not a bad cabin inside, nor outside. There’s a sense of comfort here, but Ranboo is on edge all the same.

“What are we doing?”

“I want to get to know you.” Dream leads him further away from the cabin. “We’re going to give Tommy some time to get to know Wilbur all over again, but you and I need to speak.”

“I don’t know what you want with me,” Ranboo admits. He falls in step next to Dream, trying to watch him without tripping over anything. Dream had cleaned up since exiting the prison, no longer looking so disheveled and broken. His hair is pulled back in a small ponytail, and his mask is sitting on the side of his head, instead of on his face. His clothes are the same as they’d been, except washed and sewed back together. Dream looks intimidating all over again.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Dream counters. He shoots Ranboo a grin. “I’m not as awful as Tommy’d been saying about me, you know.”

“You hurt him,” Ranboo points out bluntly. “You abused him. Don’t bother lying about it either, because we can all see how petrified he is of you.”

“Yeah, and Wilbur about ripped my head off for it.” Dream’s voice is far too casual for this conversation. There’s something not right about him. That much is obvious, but now that he’s free and cleaned up, he seems to exude a raw sort of power that scares Ranboo.

It’s also intriguing.

“Ranboo, I’m not trying to be a villain,” Dream continues. “I once had everything, and I lost it all. I made some wrong choices and went down a stupid path that led to my imprisonment, but we’ve all done some stupid things.”

Dream stops walking then, waving his arm out. “We’re here.”

“Where is here?” Ranboo looks around the area they’re in. They’re still in a taiga, but there’s what looks like a campsite. There’s a fireplace, a couple of tents, and...

...and there’s a hole in the ground.

Ranboo glances at Dream nervously, before hedging toward the opening. “Dream, what’s this?”

“You tell me,” Dream says. He gives a grin that’s too wide for his face. “You’re the one who dug it.”

“I don’t remember.” Ranboo stops moving, now staring fully at Dream. “I haven’t done anything, especially not for you.”

“I’m not controlling you, if that’s what you’re getting at. I don’t have that kind of power. Wilbur, maybe, but he’s not interested in you, he’s interested in Tommy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ranboo moves away from the hole. Whatever’s at the bottom, he doesn’t want to know. He wants to go back to Snowchester and be safe with Tubbo and Michael. Hell, he’ll drag Tommy back with him if it means Tommy’s safe too.

“Of course you do. We’ve been communicating for months, Ran. We’ve been working together for a lot longer than you realize.” Dream laughs. Ranboo expects it to sound sinister, but Dream’s laugh sounds normal, like he’s laughing at a random joke instead of Ranboo’s missing memories. “Look inside it, Ranboo. You’ll believe me then.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You trust Tommy, don’t you?” Dream waves his arm toward the hole. “I’m serious, look inside. It’s nothing bad, I’m not going to do anything to you. We’re past this point.”

“I do trust Tommy. It’s only because of him that I’m still here.” He still doesn’t move.

“I know.” Dream sighs and moves toward one of the tents. Ranboo watches him carefully, trying to figure out what he’s doing now.

“I was manipulated into coming here,” Ranboo offers. “I didn’t come here of my own free will. You have me under some kind of spell.”

“Like I said, I don’t have that kind of power. I didn’t swing a watch and hypnotize you, I didn’t plant subliminal messages into your head.”

“Yeah, but you can trigger it somehow. You can use some sort of... of code or keyword to use me. I don’t remember coming here, but I woke up with a sword aimed at Tommy. What did you do to me?”

“Nothing you didn’t agree to beforehand.” Dream finally exits the tent, holding out a book. Ranboo refuses to touch it, though his gaze is locked on the leather. “Take it and read it,” Dream insists. “I’m serious, you’ll understand.”

Hesitantly, Ranboo reaches for the book, grabbing at it as if it’s tainted. With another suspicious glance toward Dream, he opens the book and reads the signature.

It’s his handwriting.

But it’s not in a language he understands.

Frowning, Ranboo turns the page. There’s more writing, but again, in a language he doesn’t understand. It’s all unmistakably his handwriting though.

“This is useless,” Ranboo says. “I don’t understand any of it.”

“Read the last page,” Dream says. “I’d recite it out loud but you wouldn’t believe me.”

Licking his lips, he does as asked. Flipping to the final page of the book, Ranboo’s breath hitches when he sees what’s written there.

“Once the four of us are united, everything will start falling into place. I just need to keep trusting Dream, he knows what he’s doing more than any of us know. I just hope Tommy isn’t too hurt in the crossfire, he’s still fragile. Maybe seeing Wilbur again will help. I’ll remain by his side as long as he needs us. It’ll all be okay, I hope it’ll be okay. It’s us against the world.”

He doesn’t remember sitting down. Ranboo drops the book to the ground as he lands hard, scrambling back away from it. No wonder he’d been afraid to touch it, it really is tainted.

“I didn’t write that, I didn’t have anything to do with this, I’m-”

Dream crouches down in front of him. He takes the mask off, tossing it to the side, and reaches out for Ranboo, grabbing at his wrists. “You’re shaking,” Dream says quietly.

Why does he sound so comforting?

“Ranboo, look at me, please.”

“You’re crazy,” Ranboo mutters with a laugh. “You’re all off your rocker. I’m not a part of this.”

“Ranboo, it was never my intention to hurt you, or use you. Like I said, I made mistakes that I shouldn’t have made.”

“You...but Tommy...”

“I tried to mold Tommy. I made the mistake of thinking I could replace Wilbur, but Tommy will only ever listen to him, never anyone else. His exile was just one mistake after another, and believe me, Wilbur was pissed at me for that. Almost backed out of our deal for that alone.”

“How...” Ranboo’s voice cracks. “How long have I been working for you?”

“I don’t think you should ask questions you’re not ready to hear answers for.” There’s a warning note there, and Ranboo heeds it. Dream’s right in this instance, Ranboo really doesn’t want to know. He feels disgusted, almost sick.

No, he really is sick. He’s leaning over and dry heaving against the ground, leaves and dirt and bits of stone getting all over his clothes and face. He wishes he could actually vomit something up, but nothing’s coming out easily. Even worse is the fact that Dream is rubbing his back and whispering soothing words to him.

He remembers the question he’d asked Tommy the other night. ‘Have we just lost our free will?’ At the time he hadn’t put much weight into it. But looking back, Ranboo realizes he hadn’t had his free will in a very long time.

“Hey hey hey.” Dream finally pulls him upright. Unable to move, Ranboo leans heavily against Dream, fighting back the urge to cry. Crying hurts, and he doesn’t want to hurt. “Ranboo, listen to me. It’s okay. I’ll make it okay for you. I won’t hurt you, I won’t use you. Just... look in the hole please?”

He nods this time. Weakly, he pushes away from Dream, shifting closer to the giant hole in the ground. The surface seems to be made out of blackstone, so when Ranboo reaches the edge, he peers down.

There’s an end portal down below.

He can see the shimmering galaxy that makes up the portal, the endless nothing. It doesn’t make any sense, why would there be an end portal? Why would it be activated? Why...

When he speaks, his voice is still broken. “Are we going there?”

“Yes, eventually.” Dream pulls him upright. “You know what lies in the end, right?”

“I heard....I heard rumors.” Ranboo’s drooling all over himself. He wipes his mouth as he leans against Dream again. “It’s not good. We shouldn’t-”

“I want to release the dragon,” Dream continues, as if Ranboo hadn’t even spoken at all. “Wilbur and I both want to bring it here. It would do a lot more than withers and TNT. You agreed to it once, telling me you wanted things to go back to simpler times. A dragon could do that.”

There’s no comeback this time. The enderman hybrid has no words to say. He’s horrified, he’s sick to his stomach, and knows this is the worst plan. But...

Dream is pushing him away gently and picking the book back up. He dusts it off and hands it back to Ranboo. “You’re scared,” Dream says bluntly. “I know you’re putting up a resistance, but in your other state, you wanted this. You agreed to it, you willingly helped put all the plans in motion. So reach into that part of you and remember something, for once. If not for me or yourself, then do it for Tommy.”

“Tommy’s going to be heartbroken,” Ranboo whispers.

“Tommy will be fine.” Dream is grinning brightly. He moves closer, hair almost reminiscent of gold in the sunlight. “We’re all going to be fine. He has Wilbur, it’s all he’s ever wanted. What’s holding you back?”

Ranboo thinks of Tubbo and Michael. He doesn’t want to give Dream any leverage, so he slumps his shoulders forward, letting himself give in. Memories aren’t coming back, but whatever makes Dream happy, right?

“Nothing,” Ranboo whispers. “Nothing’s holding me back.”

“So you’ll let yourself remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Let’s go back home, alright?” Dream begins walking again. Ranboo watches him for a moment, glancing back down at the portal. With a shiver, he jogs to catch back up with Dream, trying to push the conversation out of his mind.

This time, his mind isn’t letting him forget anything. No memory book is needed, because the image of a lit end portal is forever burned into his mind, and Ranboo knows that if a dragon were to be released, it’d be entirely his fault.

Did we just lose our free will?

Can’t lose what you never had to begin with, can you?

[singofsolace]

Ik there’s a code of silence about saying anything negative about any wlw ship in this fandom or u get attacked but I don’t rly get Zarie. just not on a basic level like wanting the same things in life n having the same sense of humour. But also it doesn’t seem ‘brilliant’ that as u said, M is v presumptive & ignores/assumes Z’s boundaries. shippers either ignore that she treats her that way or say Z’s boundaries r the problem & should change rather than M’s lack of respect. Z deserves better :(

First, I hope you understand that this is exactly the kind of anonymous message I was hoping to avoid by giving such a thorough and balanced review of the Zarie relationship. If you had come to me with your name attached to your words, we could have a civil conversation about this, but I’m not feeling very civil this morning, and you’re hiding behind a little gray box. 

Let’s break this message down, shall we? This is going to be long, so it’s going under the cut.

1) “I don’t rly get Zarie. Just not on a basic level like wanting the same things in life n having the same sense of humor.”

at what point does Mambo Marie express that she doesn’t want the same things in life as Zelda? At what point is it made clear in canon that they don’t have the same sense of humor? On this specific argument, you’re pulling things out of thin air. Zelda wants her coven to be safe in Part Three. She wants to defeat the Pagans because they are a threat to her people. Marie wants that exact same thing. Where are you getting off that they somehow aren’t compatible based on a conversation they never had about “wanting the same things in life?” Where do you get off saying they don’t have the same sense of humor, when there was hardly opportunity for joke-making when a near apocalypse was upon them? Zelda has a dirty sense of humor, and from what we saw, Marie loves to use innuendo. I’d say there’s evidence that they do have the same sense of humor, but hey, I think you’re just pulling at straws to make me angry, and don’t actually have any evidence that they don’t laugh about the same things.

2)  “ But also it doesn’t seem ‘brilliant’ that as u said, M is v presumptive & ignores/assumes Z’s boundaries.”

Since you clearly did read my previous post already, you know that I’ve addressed this point thoroughly. Yes, Marie is presumptuous but so is Zelda. Y’all, did we even watch the same show if you don’t think Zelda crosses boundaries, too, sometimes? Zelda obsesses over her niece losing her virginity at Lupercalia, despite knowing it’s making her uncomfortable to talk about it. And, if you’re coming for me because you prefer Lilith, SHE IS NO BETTER ON THIS COUNT. 

Lilith fucking murdered a woman and then continued to wear her face even after she brought her back to life. Lilith seduced multiple teenage boys in order to sacrifice them. Lilith entered the Spellman’s dreams without their consent, and stole things from their home with nefarious intent. Lilith fucking lied to Zelda from day one, and tried to get her niece killed multiple times. If you’re being deliberately obtuse about the fact that Lilith is no better when it comes to boundaries, and still ship Madam Spellman while hating Zarie, I would have to ask you why you feel the need to come into my inbox to shit on a ship I like when I’ve already addressed the points you’re making.

Bottom line on this one: is it right for anyone to assume another person’s boundaries? No. But literally every other fucking character on the show doesn’t understand this concept, so why should you single out Mambo Marie for this behavior when Faustus literally put Zelda under a mind control spell, Mary Wardwell fucking SHOT Zelda in cold blood, and Lilith has been crossing boundaries since the beginning in order to get Sabrina where she needs to go? Unless you’re asking for a new love interest to be introduced, or no love interest at all (which, I’d be a fan of the “no love interest at all” because Zelda is traumatized) you can’t in good conscience argue that any other age-appropriate character on the show is right for Zelda if this is your deal breaker.

People aren’t perfect. Zelda certainly isn’t. So why should Marie be? Might it be racism, perhaps?

3) “ shippers either ignore that she treats her that way or say Z’s boundaries r the problem & should change rather than M’s lack of respect. Z deserves better :(”

This one is where you went from a discussion to an accusation, and this is why I’m all fired up. I have never, not once, heard it said that Zelda’s boundaries should change. But, while we’re on this subject, which boundaries are you talking about? The fact that Marie performed a dance of protection without Zelda’s permission? The fact that she turned a handshake into a “reading”? It’s unclear what specific instance you’re talking about, and this is important, because Zelda doesn't have a spotless past when it comes to boundaries. She has put a woman under a mind control spell, and you don’t see anyone crying Justice for Shirley Jackson when it comes to “boundaries” being crossed. We have to acknowledge that morality is subjective in CAOS. Morality in the Church of Night isn’t the same as morality in Christian-based codes of law.

There’s also a cultural element you’re ignoring, here, if you’re talking about how tactile Mambo Marie is compared to Zelda. You might see Zelda’s cultural boundaries as the default, but just because we’re still clinging to Puritanical culture in New England, doesn’t mean other cultures are wrong for being more tactile. We’re touch-starved in the Northeast, because we still hold onto these age-old traditions of touching = sex = the devil.

Have you ever seen Reaching for the Moon? Miranda Otto talks a lot about how she felt very “white” in Brazil, because the people there were so warm and loving and would just take you in their arms and hug you. She does a brilliant job in this interview discussing why it was so difficult for Bishop to trust that warmth and give/receive it herself. Bishop’s boundaries were constantly being crossed and challenged in a culture that doesn’t value introversion/aloofness as much as New England does.

This isn’t me saying Zelda should loosen up; that is absolutely not what I’m arguing here. I’m arguing that Mambo Marie is a bit like Lota, who is warm and tactile and will kiss you on both cheeks even if she’s never met you before, because that’s how it’s done. This isn’t an intentional breaking of a boundary; this is evidence that Marie and Lota come from backgrounds where it is much more accepted to embrace the people you just met, to touch them, to hold them close.

Is Marie still crossing a boundary? Yes. But to ignore that there is a cultural difference between them is to white-wash the encounter. My goal is not to say Marie is justified, or that Zelda just needs to accept Marie’s presumptuousness because she comes from a different culture, but rather that this needs to be a discussion between them. Zelda could’ve said, “We don’t turn a handshake into a psychic reading in my culture. Please don’t do it again,” but she doesn’t set that boundary. She allows the reading to happen, and doesn’t address that it wasn’t something she wanted. 

Can we also note that throughout this whole discussion, we’re assuming Zelda’s boundaries, because never once does Zelda actually state that Marie is crossing them, except when she performs the dance of protection? Besides that spell, Zelda never once verbally expresses that Marie is crossing a line with her. 

I’m so tired. We don’t have to ship the same thing, but I would never send anonymous messages to someone just because we don’t have the same ship. As I’ve addressed, half of your message was just repeating the points I made but twisting them to mean we therefore aren’t allowed to ship Zarie, and that Zelda deserves better. 

Zelda deserves better than these fucking fandom wars. If you don’t ship Zarie, that’s ok, but don’t come for us just because we’re excited that there’s a canon interracial sapphic ship on CAOS.

[hi-im-dazey]

My first thoughts on 15x17

Behind the cut for head-canon and spoiler avoidance for them that wants ‘em

Chuck was writing versions. Each version had a different twist to set them on the path to Chuck's ending.

So what was the twist for this Sam-n-Dean that made them able to defy the narrative? Where was the moment that Chuck "screwed" his story and made actual free will?

I'll tell you what I think.

I think Chuck accidentally made one human with free will.

Only one.

Sam Fucking Winchester.

Sam can see and understand exactly what's going on. AND he is coming to realize that he is outside of Chuck’s control.

He knows Dean is being manipulated. Dean is clearly aware of it too, but he doesn't seem able to stop it. So what's the difference?

Sam told us, he told Dean, he told everyone, throughout the show, for 15 years,

‘It’s not who you are; it’s what you do.’

And because of this understanding, he relies on one particular trait of Dean's.

Dean will do literally anything to protect Sam. It's not always the right thing (he doesn't “always like it”) but in the end Sam knows and has always known the magic spell to trigger this trait in Dean. (call it “puppy dog eyes” if you want, but someone having blind trust in you, no matter what, is a helluva drug. Dean is addicted to it.)

But how come? Where did Chuck make his fatal error? What was the twist this time? The one that broke, not only the plot line Chuck wanted, but the character of Sam, as well. Making Sam incapable of following the narrative laid out before him.

I think the moment where Chuck made his mistake was the moment he had John hand the baby to the four-year-old. There’s a reason that’s the scene that kicks this all off.

A moment of extreme trauma and dire importance, literally burnt into Dean's brain.

Setting up this trait in Dean enabled Sam to truly push through any obstacle Chuck's story presented, because he knew Dean had his back when push came to shove.

Nothing bad was ever going to happen to him as long as Dean was around.

It's the song he grew up listening to.

"But," you say, "Everything that ever happened to Sam was quantifiable as ‘bad’!" (the joke of the only stroke of luck Sam Winchester ever had was that coffee cup landing on its ass is sad, but true)

Yes, and don't you think he has noticed that?

He’s given considerable thought to the fact he has survived this long with that much crap, against all odds, largely because of Dean. Anyone else would have been dead the first time and it would have stuck. Yet here he is. This has only reinforced the fact that Dean will try to do anything to save him. Not only will he try to do, he will succeed.

Without Dean he may have died at six months, or any time between then and now. It’s an important revelation when Dean tells Sam about carrying him out of the fire in season 1, Sam did not know that before then, but it makes Dean’s entire character snap into focus for him.

Sam has seen the pattern, he sees the hand of Chuck in their lives. He tries to break them out of the pattern over and over again.

Even before he fully understood what was happening and that it could be broken out of. Or that this was what he was doing. Before he was consciously breaking free, he still broke out of the plot.

Dean sees it too, he's not dumb.

But Dean's life did not belong to anyone, not the way Sam's has always been his responsibility. He only has Sam to help him break out of the hamster wheel, and I think they are just now seeing that.

I think Sam understands now, that for some reason, he is free and can refuse to do what is laid out before him. And, indeed, that he has been refusing his entire life.

He also understands that Dean can break out of the pattern too, but he needs Sam to help him.

Sam is the snapped fingers in the corner of Dean’s eye.

Sam is the trance breaker for Dean.

Sam is that moment of real panic that flooded his system when the house was burning and Sam’s life was in his hands.

That moment, that plot twist, is what broke Chuck’s story.

I’ve said before that the reason Chuck is afraid of Jack is that Jack was not written by Chuck, Jack is what the characters in the story wrote when Chuck left them alone (to go off and play with Amara), and in Unity Chuck admits there were things he “didn’t write”

So someone else must be writing things. When did that start, though? At what point did Chuck lose control of the authorship and accidentally allow another author into his sandbox?

Maybe when John Winchester handed a baby to a four-year-old. Maybe the reason Sam has free will is because he is also capable of writing in Chuck’s world. Or maybe he is capable of writing in Chuck’s world because he has free will.

What we saw in Unity  was Chuck forcing his will on Dean to get to his poetic, tragic ending. He squeezed all of Dean’s rage up to the surface, and added more, he gave him an order direct to his nerve ending, squeezing his ink through Dean’s veins... “This time, fire that gun, boy!” Daddy’s blunt little instrument fed on rage and frustration and anger at being thwarted and impotence at being led on a string...

And Sam, again, snapped his fingers in the corner of Dean’s rage and broke him out. I think we saw Sam beginning to realize that he has the upper hand here.

And I don’t think Chuck has realized that Sam himself is, in fact, the issue.. yet.

Not the bullet hole, or Sam’s hope, or the demon blood, or the latent powers or missed destiny.

Sam’s existence and being are the issue. What Sam DOES, not who he is or was meant to be. Sam’s actual free will is the problem for Chuck. (and take a moment here to remember that almost every crisis Chuck wrote for Sam involved removing Sam’s agency and autonomy.)

He thinks they are all refusing to toe the line, I don’t think he understands that Sam is the one editing his book yet.

And what about Castiel? Well, the moment he shook hands with Sam, he was broken. His chassis may have come off the assembly line cracked, and Naomi may have patched him up time and again, but the second he shook hands with Sam, he was irredeemable for Chuck’s narrative.

Chuck inserts himself in to the story as the prophet, maybe to check in and see what’s going wrong? Figures out that Cass is broken (again?) and takes steps to make an opportunity to “remake” Cass. Then again, once back in Sam’s orbit, Cass is again, broken... there is something that cracks apart for Cass when he interacts with Sam.

This is not a shippy thing, btw. It’s being confronted with a creature that has actual free will... Cass is not equipped to handle that. He left the angel factory without that blind faith setting. He can ‘see’; and he ‘sees’ Sam. Every interaction with Sam shows him what is wrong with the rest of the story.

And again, Chuck rebuilds Cass, and this time traps him in a story where Cass himself is the villain. And Cass was a great villain, that was a good story, no matter how you feel about Cass or Misha, season 6 was a good story.

When Cass returns again, in season 7, hyperbole is gone now, he literally BREAKS himself upon touching Sam. There is no metaphor here, he takes on Sam’s brokenness, with a touch.

(”you’re broken [...]broken toys? You throw them away...”)

The only way Chuck could possibly hope to keep Castiel from being broken is if he can keep him away from Sam.

But Chuck hasn’t realized this yet. He tries to write a narrative that Naomi is “tuning him up as he transgresses” as she has in the past? or as she has in other worlds?

Is Dean what really breaks him free of Naomi?

No, touching the Angel Tablet does it... and again, this is just Chuck, writing his way to his preferred ending. The Narrative Cycle begins again because the Angel Tablet ‘resets’ Cass. This plot point starts us on yet another iteration of the “remove Sam’s agency so one of the brothers sacrifices either himself or the other” cycle.

~~~

Looping back again to the fifth season...

When Chuck says “endings are hard” in Swan Song he’s not talking about writing that ending. That ending was good, it was solid, it closed out the story on a note of melancholy hopefulness, Sam was gone, and the apocalypse averted. It wasn’t happy but it was complete.

That ending wasn’t hard to write.

It was hard for Chuck to read.

Because that wasn’t what he was trying to write, Sam took over his narrative. Sam refused to kill Dean, Sam refused to kill Adam, Sam refused to kill Michael or allow Michael to kill Lucifer, or allow Lucifer to kill either of Sam’s brothers or his own brother.

Sam effectively cock blocked Chuck’s little ‘fratricide 21-ways served in a light creamed-angel sauce with a side order of fried surrogate dad’ all you can eat and there’s dancing after banquet finale.

Cass comes back, almost immediately, because Chuck needs to re-boot the cycle. Because Sam screwed it up for him, again. (Maybe if Chuck takes Sam’s soul out of the equation... he can get some traction on his plan, this time.)

Sam Fucking Winchester is simultaneously Chuck Shurley’s hero, voice, protagonist, and muse.

He’s also Chuck’s biggest problem.

Sam Fucking Winchester is the corner Chuck has written himself into.

~~~

Now this is all just spit balling head-canon, and probably nowhere near where the writers are actually going, but it woke me up early and took over my brain and prevented me from doing my homework (which is also writing, to be honest) until I got it all out of my system.

~~~

Inserting standard disclaimer: (C-A-S-S is how they spell it on the show, and more importantly, it makes screen-reading software for the visually impaired pronounce it correctly; as opposed to C-A-S which makes screen-readers say “Kah.”)

[dickwheelie]

Day 16: Flowers

For the @ineffable-valentines prompt list!

This one was fun to write. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while now, but never expected to actually turn it into a full fic. This prompt was the perfect opportunity. Enjoy!

_________

If there was one thing Crowley truly didn’t understand about humanity, it was their ability to be superstitious about all the wrong things. Angels, demons, witches, miracles, and yes, even God, these were all real—and, true, to their credit the humans did have their odd beliefs about all those things. But there were so, so many more things they believed in that were complete and utter nonsense.

Vampires, for instance, were entirely fictional. Black cats were just like every other kind of cat, and had nothing to do with bad luck—or good luck, for that matter.

Crowley spent centuries laughing behind his hand at the utter ridiculousness humans were capable of. He loved them for it, but it was hilarious all the same.

Then, one day, Crowley did what he did best: he played himself.

You see, Crowley was always keen on using humans’ more outlandish beliefs against them in his demonic work. He was the one who started the rumors about stepping on cracks in the sidewalk, after all. One day, sometime in the 1700s, Crowley was inspired to whisper to a woman at a florist’s display that if she bought a flower, she’d be able to find out if the object of her affections was in love with her. (He really just wanted her to buy a flower because of the bee that was taking up residence on it.)

When she asked him how that could possibly be true, Crowley did what he was second-best at, and improvised. “You haven’t heard? They say that if you pick off the petals, one by one, saying ‘He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me,’ and so on, the last petal will reveal the truth. It’s a well-known witches’ spell, they do it all the time.”

This was, in and of itself, not the biggest mistake Crowley could have made. His big mistake came when, several weeks later, out of sheer curiosity and nothing more, he tried it himself.

He told himself it was pointless anyway, because he didn’t have anyone in particular he was thinking of. He told himself that he only used the pronoun “he” because it was what he’d said to the woman. He told himself, as he plucked the petals off the daisy he’d picked, that the result didn’t matter in the least bit.

“He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not—” Crowley paused and stared down at the little, decimated daisy. One petal remained. Crowley slowly picked it off and tossed it away. “He loves me.”

It was pure chance. Fifty-fifty. A flip of a coin. It meant, literally, nothing at all.

A decade later, Crowley found himself at a garden party, his part of the Arrangement complete (blessing a boy who would later grow up to do great things, apparently), and utterly bored. Wandering through the bushes at the edges of the garden, away from the guests, he picked a flower on impulse and tried the game again. “He loves me, he loves me not . . .”

In the end, he came up with “He loves me” again. Well, there was nothing strange about getting two heads in a row. Crowley picked another flower and tried again. Anything was better than doing back to the party to mingle.

“He loves me,” said Crowley, as he picked the last petal. He frowned. Three in a row was odd. But, he supposed, not unreasonably so. It was all about probability, wasn’t it? The previous flips had no effect on the current one, after all. He picked another flower.

For the rest of that afternoon and well into the evening, even after the party had ended, Crowley sat in a far corner of the garden in a feverish daze and pulled petals off of flowers.

Every. Single. One. Turned. Out. The. Same.

“He bloody, bloody well loves me!” Crowley cried, tossing away the nth flower. He’d lost count long ago; the numbers no longer mattered. Probability could sod right off. Fifty-fifty, his arse. This many in a row was simply impossible. There must be something wrong.

Maybe, he thought with a stroke of optimism, this bunch of flowers were bred for their odd-numbered petals. That way, he’d always get the same result. Well, he’d just have to try other flowers then, wouldn’t he?

Crowley immediately made his way to the nearest park and plucked a random perennial from the ground. The result was the same. Growling in frustration, he picked another one. The same. He picked a flower and counted its petals out, one by one. Twelve. Brilliant. This one definitely wouldn’t work.

But again, the result was the same. Even though it shouldn’t have been possible, Crowley plucked the last petal just as he said “He loves me.”

Desperately, he tried again, this time starting on “He loves me not.” But again, the result was the same.

Crowley stood up from the pile of decimated flowers and stumbled over to the nearest park bench. What did it mean? He knew the answer, of course; he simply didn’t want to admit it to himself. Because all of this time he had, of course, been secretly thinking of Aziraphale. And because he’d come up with the little flower trick, it couldn’t possibly be real. So the only real explanation was that Crowley was doing this to himself; he’d reached a level of self-delusion so great that he’d caught himself in a loop of misery, trying to convince himself that Aziraphale loved him when he knew it wasn’t true.

But then again, Crowley thought with a tilt of his head, if he knew Aziraphale didn’t love him, why would the flowers think otherwise?

If Crowley was the only supernatural force involved here, why did the flowers insist on trying to prove him wrong?

Crowley didn’t even try to conceive of an answer to that. He made a beeline for the nearest pub and drowned out every voice left in his head that night.

For the next three centuries or so, Crowley simply tried to avoid flowers altogether. Best to just forget about the whole thing, he thought. And when the business of the holy water came up, it was one of the last things on his mind anyway. Soon after that, the Apocalypse kept him and Aziraphale busy for quite a while.

It was another few years after Armageddon that Crowley was reminded of the flowers again, and it wasn’t exactly because of the flowers themselves.

He was in the bookshop, as he was more often than not these days, lounging on the sofa as Aziraphale made himself tea in the kitchen. Crowley hadn’t been intending to nap, but it was a warm, slow summer day, and he felt himself dozing off.

He snapped awake, however, when he heard Aziraphale’s voice float in from the kitchen, casual as you please: “He loves me, he loves me not . . .”

Crowley was standing in the kitchen so quickly that reality itself might have looked back and forth from him to the sofa in confusion. Aziraphale did, at least.

“Crowley, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked him, alarmed. He was holding a red flower, and a vase full of a bouquet of them was sitting on the table.

Crowley pointed at the vase. First things first. “Where’d you get those?”

Aziraphale stared at him, confused. “Erm. Miss Device gave me this bouquet this morning, she’s got so many of these flowers around her house. Very kind of her. Spruces up the room, I think. Crowley, are you quite all right?”

“ ‘M fine. What were you doing with that flower?”

Aziraphale looked down at the flower he was holding, which was conspicuously missing a few petals. He reddened just a bit. “Ah. It’s a bit silly, really, but I was doing that little game, you know, ‘He loves me, he loves me not.’ ” He let out an embarrassed laugh. “Just for fun. No other reason.”

Crowley took a step closer to him. His heart was beating quite fast all of a sudden, without his permission. “Aziraphale, d’you remember the first time you played that game?”

“The first . . . ?” It might have been his imagination, but Crowley could have sworn that Aziraphale’s eyes went wide for just a moment. “Erm. Well, if I remember correctly, it must have been sometime around the 1700s. I think.”

They were standing quite close to one another, now. “Aziraphale,” Crowley said quietly. “If I tell you something completely embarrassing and ridiculous, will you promise not to laugh?”

Aziraphale swallowed, but nodded solemnly. “Only if you let me tell you something completely embarrassing and ridiculous first.”

“Hm. Maybe we should just say both of them at the same time. Get it over with.”

A twinkle flickered in Aziraphale’s eyes. “Oh, good idea, dear boy.”

“Alright, on the count of three,” said Crowley. He could barely contain his grin.

Aziraphale seemed to be having a similar problem. “One . . .”

“Two . . .”

“Three!”

***

Crowley stopped trying to avoid flowers after that day. He also stopped picking petals off of them. So did Aziraphale. After all, the point of the game was to find out if the object of your affections was in love with you.

No point in playing, really, if you already knew the answer.

[dykexanderharris]

heartache, i’ve heard, is part of life

(kennedy/willow, heavy mention of tara/willow)

Post-Chosen

It’s May and it’s only been a couple weeks since you watched her hair turn white with magic and felt centuries of the slayer line run through you. It’s May and she hasn’t said it but you think it’s been one year since the last woman she loved died. You have a few reasons for thinking that.

One of the big ones is that it’s May and You’ve learned that May being Apocalypse Month is one of the Scoobies’ favourite jokes. Since Willow was the cause of the last Apocalypse, you figure Tara probably died almost exactly a year ago. There’s also the thing where Xander and Buffy have both been big with the hovering for the last few days. You get wanting to be with friends after a near-apocalypse, you’ve spent a lot of time with Rona and Vi since Sunnydale turned into a crater, but Xander and Buffy have nearly attached themselves to Willow.

But the biggest hint is the way Willow is quiet. In the few months that you have gotten to know her, Willow has been a lot of things, most of them amazing, a few of them kind of terrifying. None of them is quiet. She can be shy occasionally and she can overthink which can look like quiet, but you can always tell that it’s not actually quiet since her eyes do this really cute and expressive thing where it kind of looks like she’s trying to figure out the worlds secrets.

Right now she looks quiet. She talks with same vernacular that you’ve grown so fond of and she smiles at you every time she catches you staring. But she looks quiet and her eyes don’t look complicated at all and there’s sadness there, more than usual. You’re not worried in the stressed and panicking sense, you’re just worried in the concerned that she isn’t talking to anyone about her dead girlfriend.

You recognize that you are definitely someone she can come to, but that she probably wouldn’t be big for conversing with her girlfriend that she accused of making her forget about her dead girlfriend - turning into the man she killed or not -about said dead girlfriend. So, you hope that Willow’s talking to someone but you have an inkling that she’s not going to talk to Buffy or Xander since they both have more recent dead loved ones. You doubt she’d talk to Daw, especially since Dawn has been kind of an asshole to both of you since she realized that the two of you aren’t just screwing because of your common experience of pre-apocalypse lesbianism. You wish you had her confidence, because even you aren’t convinced of that fact.

Th point is, you care, a lot, about Willow. And whether it’s been a year since Tara died or if the grief is just heavier now that there isn’t magic recovery or a First Evil to fight, you want to be there for her. So, when she comes out of the bathroom and into your room, towelling her hair, you just smile at her and invite her to come sit with you.

You listen to her breathe for a while as she flips through a handwritten journal, leaning your head on her shoulder you recognize most of the handwriting as Willow’s but there a more hurried and loopy script running through the pages along her steady and colourful words. You feel when her cheeks life with her smiles as she reads and thanks to your newly enhanced slayer hearing, you can hear the frequency with which she starts swallowing when she comes across full pages of the blue and loopy words.

Feeling her shift as she runs her finger along the edge of the page you shift with her, looking up to her. Softly, you ask, “Tell me about her?”

When Willow looks down, the same quiet in her face as the last few days but a small confusion, you clarify. “Tara. And only if you want to. I know you say you two were private and I respect that, but grief is hard and it’s harder when you don’t talk about it. So, if it’s okay with you, you can tell me about her. Or I can get Xander or Buffy and you can talk to them.”

Willow smiles at you and you really wish this warm feeling in your chest would stop popping up every time she looks at you because you don’t want to be the stereotypical lesbian who says I love you on the third date but she makes it easy. And she pauses and swallows again, and then she closes the journal and looks at you. And she says, “Are you sure?”

And you’re not, because you have this tendency to get jealous about stupid things and you don’t want to put yourself in a place where you might end up jealous of a dead girl and that would be stupid. But you say yes anyway because the hope in her eyes makes it clear she needs this. And Tara sounds like a good person from every account you’ve ever heard about her, plus you’ve got that whole loving Willow thing in common, so she seems like the kind of person you would’ve wanted to know if you could’ve.

With your confirmation, Willow tells you about her. She tells you about her as in the way that she loved horror movies even though she basically lived in one. You learn that Tara used to always get on both Willow and Dawn’s backs about eating healthy but she always kept gummy bears in her backpack in case it turned into a bad day. You listen when Willow admits that Tara thought the two of them were dating weeks before Willow realized she was gay and she laughs with you when you tease her.

And then she tells you about the journal on her lap. It started as just a catalogue of demons and meals and spells and little anecdotes from her daily life but eventually became the story of her and Tara, written out in their own handwriting. Willow mostly tells you about Tara teasing her about how she writes like she talks - in circles until someone tells her it’s okay to stop. You smile into Willow’s shoulder when she points to a period after a run on sentence that lasted over two pages long that is a different colour that the rest of the pages.

She goes through each page and tells you some of the stories and keeps some to herself, and from Willow’s account you can see how everyone views Tara as a perfect person because she seems pretty amazing. But then, a couple months into the journal, Willow starts flipping through pages written in black ink - an odd occurrence when previous pages were pinks or sparkly blues or lime green - with incantations and spells and ingredients and frustrated scribbles. You feel the way she tenses and she tells you about Glory who had made Tara go literally crazy and how she spent days pouring over texts just trying to find something to bring her back and how because of that Buffy died. You don’t correct her, it’s a different battle for a different day, but you do relish in her smile when the loopy writing is back.

There’s a page with some stranger ingredients and Willow tells you it’s the spell that brought Buffy back. You note the different coloured question mark next to the ingredient “vino della madre”. Now Tara’s notes are smaller than before, things like ‘dork’ when Willow pours over how much she loves Tara in the pages. you laugh are surprised that you have felt no jealousy, just sadness that Willow, and everyone, lost her. But you watch as Tara disappears from the margins, not abrupt like last time, but slower, until her only input are small drawings. And eventually she’s gone, and there’s a page that’s been scratched out but you see the way it bleeds onto the next page and figure it wasn’t the prettiest breakup. Willow confirms to you that it wasn’t, she tells you every step she took that ended up with her turning into a terrible and abusive person.

That’s one of the things about her that scares you sometimes, but you don’t need to think about that now. Willow flips through more pages, some of them black, some with colourful writing and fewer and fewer with spells, some with small self-affirmations. And you tease her for it and she blushes and you love her, in all your own stereotypical lesbian glory. She gets to the last page of the journal. Not the last page in the physical journal but you can tell it’s the last one in the way she looks at it.

And the last pages are all Willow, one is about a serum to help Buffy and the other two are about Tara. And then, proving your theory about the day she died, on a page dated May 7th, 2002, in purple ink is one sentence. ‘I love you, always, even when I’m not around.’

Willow gasps as she reads it, and you watch her gasp turn into a sob and she starts crying. You didn’t expect this conversation to end anywhere else, so you hold her and tell her it’s okay until she calms down. She shakes her head, as if to deny what just happened. Then she shrugs, “I’m sorry. It’s just, this,” She points at the journal, “and a couple pictures are the only proof that she was ever...”

She trails off and you get it. You don’t get it, but you think of Amanda who was younger then you but who reminded you of your sister so much and now she’s just a body in a hole that the government plans to fill with cement with no proof that you ever even knew her. You know, somewhere with her is Anya and Spike and Tara.

But Willow’s wrong, because Amanda is the one who encouraged you to forgive Willow, and wherever this goes, Amanda is part of the choices you make. So you kiss her cheek and place you hand on her other one, wiping away the tears there with your thumb. And you nod, “You’re right, she was a whole person and now all that’s left is notes in a journal and a couple pictures. But you forgot something.”

At Willow’s confusion, you continue. “You’re still here, and Dawn’s still here pissed off on Tara’s behalf. She’s gone but she’s still here. So, yeah, it is unequivocally shitty that she doesn’t get to be here so that the world gets to know her. But the world gets to know you and Dawn and Buffy and everyone else that got to know Tara. And I think, that’s plenty since she’s supposed to be my competition or whatever and I think I might like her more than I like you.”

Your last words are teasing and Willow smiles at you, though her eyes are serious. She leans her forehead against yours, running her hand through your hair and sighs wetly. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

And you smirk at her. “I did actually, but thanks for the ego boost.”

It’s easier like this, when you can say serious things but end the conversations lightly and don’t have to sit with the discomfort. Willow shifts to kiss you and is crying when she pulls away. “Thank you.”

And you could say it now, that you love her. That you’ll follow her wherever she wants to go once the apocalypse hangover is gone. But as much as you’re comfortable being a stereotype, you’re not an idiot. You’ve been given what you consider to be the extraordinary gift of getting to date Willow Rosenberg, most powerful witch in this hemisphere. You’re not going to mess that up with as something as stupid as saying you love her off the hinges of a conversation about the dead love of her life. So, you just smile.

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

Gone and Left Your World (Venable X Reader (part 4))

I noticed I spelt psychic wrong so many times in the last parts and probably in this too. I apologize for that. 

I will name in the series in a week to a month like I am doing with my Cordelia series.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four

Warnings: N/A

You had to pass Coco’s room in order to get to your own. Unfortunately, she happened to be in said room at the time of passing. She wasn’t alone, accompanied by Gallant and Mallory.

“What? I don't want to rub it in for the ones that don't get picked. No offence, Mallory.” They must have been talking about the selection for the sanctuary. Of course, Coco would assume she was getting in, she was a rich (almost) influencer back before the world turned to hell. You don’t know how she could see that as more important than someone who could actually do work like Mallory. Gallant has a better chance of making it than her. Not that you cared. You doubted the girl has done an honest day's labour in her life, she had staff serving her every day of her life.

Mallory didn’t think she would get in. Coco was convinced that the people who were getting in already knew, something about her one-on-one with him being ‘illuminating’.

You didn't like the chances of getting in yourself, threatening the person here to 'save' you wasn't going to save you a spot. He said he liked your mind but nothing much was happening in it, you weren't a scholar, none of you were. He jumped around, knowing things he shouldn't have. You knew he was bad, but this confirmed it, and you threatened him. Shit. You don't even know how powerful he is. You're all alone in this, no one would get you if you explained it to them.

“Wait. Did something weird happen to you, too?”

Wait- You froze in place.

“What are you babbling about? What did he say to you?”

No? She couldn't be- could she?

“It wasn't anything he said. It was uh a feeling,” Mallory’s word caught your interest. You popped your head into the room to watch. The others were too busy to notice your presence. “I think I set the room on fire.”

“What? Like you knocked over a candle or something?”

“No. Like flames shot out of the fireplace and went everywhere. I know this is impossible, but I think I made the fire with my mind.”

Coco scoffed, “Yeah, we're definitely not talking about the same thing.”

Mallory compared herself to a superhero (“…and now I'm like the Dark Phoenix.”). You leant against the wall in the hallway, still listening, waiting for Mallory to leave the room to find out more. The rich snob and her hairdresser took what she said joking. You knew you should have too but with all the strange things you’ve seen and heard, you needed to know more. You couldn't explain away the dreams- visions- whatever they are. You had seen her face, not only her but her annoying boss as well. You didn't feel hate when you saw them, but now, always towards Coco, you couldn't stand her face.

 “Come on. Prove it. Make flames shoot out everywhere.” There was some time before anyone spoke. “This is pretty lame, even for you, Mallory. Some people just have nothing special about them, and you have to be okay with that.”

 She told her to use her power to shut up and disappear. She needed her costume to be ready for tonight. She recommended for the woman to look for supplies in Evie’s room as she won’t be needing them anymore.

Mallory walked past, bumping into you. She apologised and kept walking, staring down at the ground. Their dickheads sometimes- correction- all the time.

“She's out of her mind,” Gallant said.

 “This place is full of looneys, speaking of one, that L/N was eavesdropping. I mean, who can hear the dead? That’s ridiculous.” Coco said. “Do you really think she’s with Venable? It wouldn’t surprise me since the woman has been eye-fucking her since the (hair colour) haired bitch arrived.”

“She’s fucked up enough to be her type. Insane and murderous partners well with-”

You don’t want to hear the rest of the nonsense that could leave their mouths. You chased after Mallory who was heading towards the late Evie’s room. You called after her. She stopped shuffling through the dead woman’s belongings and paid all her attention to you. She said your first name back.

“Did you really mean what you said back in Coco’s room?” You asked. You immediately apologised for eavesdropping, but she cut you off.

“I did, but it’s probably just the place getting to me. It seems ridiculous-”

“You’re talking to the person who’s claimed repeatedly to hear ghosts.” You thought about that for a second. “Forget I said that I just realised how insane that sounds. My point is I believe you.”

“You do?” You pulled her down to sit on the bed so you could talk to her properly.

“A part of me feels like I’ve already met you. Not some past life bullshit but before the apocalypse.” You move a bit away from her and move your attention away from her. “Since I got here, I’ve been having these ‘dreams’ of a life I’ve never had. You and Coco were in one, along with some people I have never met before.” You chuckled, “Coco was nicer. Like really nice, especially to you. I think she admired you. That’s beside the point. I don’t think we’re here by coincidence.”

“What are you saying? That we're not who we think we are?”

“Exactly. You feel it too, I can tell.” Mallory looked unsure. Your meaning resonated with her, but your reasoning was losing her. “Coco’s father bought five tickets,” She went to correct you, but you kept talking. “A mistake was made, and I managed to get it for reasons we aren’t going to discuss. Think the chances of Coco’s family not making it to the plane and the accidental booking was intentional.” You couldn’t tell if she believed you or was just humouring you because you were a higher rank than her. “I have four years of my life missing from my memory. I would never have touched a bottle of alcohol before. Whatever, they are hiding from us, I didn’t cope with well.”

“Y/N, I have to get back to work.”

“-making Coco’s mask, right? I can help-”

“Y/N~”

She was trying to get away from you.

“You think I’m crazy. You’re trying to get away from me.” She said your name again. “No, I get it.” You raised your hands defensively. “You think I’m crazy as well. I thought you were different- I – I should go.” She called you once more. “Someone will answer me.” You were agitated. The candles flickered all around you, Mallory picked up on this. You stormed out of the room; the lights stilled the moment you left. She stuck her head out to see the same effect following you. The lights flickered and then calmed when you were far enough away. Maybe she should believe you.

~~~

No one knew what to do with you. There were only two options, go with the two girls and protect them or stay with Cordelia, Myrtle and Madison. Your powers could be covered by you also being a medium; change a few details and about yourself and your connection to the other two and you were golden. That didn’t solve the fact that your fiancé was running the place.  You were adamant that she would kill you on sight while Myrtle (and Cordelia to a lesser extent) believed you’d be fine. The choice was down to you in the end. The path you’d choose. They weren’t going to force you or sway you in a way, but they would make you decide and quick. You had a night to think about it, they needed to send off the other two and couldn’t wait around for you.

 Resting on the porch, the moonlight reflected the swamp waters. You sighed, sometime soon all of this would be wiped away and replaced with a dystopian nuclear wasteland.

 The light evening breeze will carry radiation. The trees, if they still stand, will be dead, rotting due to the chemicals getting into the soil. With no natural food source people will turn on each other. Cordelia told you about her vision (you were the go-to witch on all things dead), hoping you could help them in some way, but it only scared you.

There’s been too much death for one person to see in one lifetime. There was only more to come, the bombs would go off, people would scream. Everything reminded you of what you saw, you tried to remain strong for your sister witches, but you were tearing at the seams.

 All the blood and carnage you had seen. It’s scarred and haunts your very soul. You didn’t want to wait around while more deaths occur. Deaths occur every day, but the knowledge of impending doom made you more aware of the numbers. How would the world end? You assumed in fires; the gates of hell would open unleashing abominations among the living. Beasts once human tearing you from limb to limb, you’d choke on your own blood as they tear into the stomach and slurp your intentions like it was spaghetti. The numbers of fatalities would accumulate, one or two now, thousands later. If you stuck with them, you’d be forced to wait around with the knowledge you couldn’t save everyone. The pile of bodies would rise. The mass death of bodies with the complex relationship you had controlling your power- you couldn’t handle it.

If you just left, you wouldn’t have to make a choice. People are going to die no matter what you do but if you don’t survive the bombs, you’ll never have to worry about that, because you’ll be dead.

All you had to do was get far enough away before they discovered you're gone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You spun around. Thank god, it’s just Madison.

“On a walk-”

“Bullshit, you’re leaving!” Her yelling caught the attention of the two other young witches. They watched on through the window.

“No~ why would you think that?” You were flustered.

“Okay, then. Where you going on your walk?”

“Just around the swamp?”

“At night?”

“Yes.” You dragged this out.

“Leaving the only place that is safe.” The place had been surrounded by a protection spell, one that was completed this time without interruption.

“I need to think.”

“You can do that here.”

“NO, I CAN’T!” The other girl was shocked by your sudden yelling.

“What’s going on out there!” Cordelia asked, bursting through the front door, annoyed the two were causing a stir at ten at night. You gave Madison a look saying, ‘don’t you dare tell her’.

“Y/N’s running off!” You weren’t going to lie anymore. There’s no point in dragging this on.

“Were you?” you didn’t nod, nor did you deny. “WERE YOU Y/N!” You unveiled the beast hidden beneath her soft, loving persona. You betrayed her- or at least that's how she saw it. You were a surprise; she didn’t think you made it and now you were walking away like none of this mattered. You might as well have never shown up at all.

“I’m done with this.” You didn’t get very far before she was holding you back with her magic. She wouldn’t be able to hold you for long without exhausting herself. You could use that to your advantage.

“Why?”

“Why?” you chuckled out. “’Why not?’ is a better question. I’m not contractually obligated to help you out. I have nothing keeping me going.”

This was not your fight. Michael wasn't your problem.

“You have us.” This meant little to you. Yes, they were your friends. Would you die for them? No. You were selfish. You always have been, not in the way everyone thought. You were self-destructive, you fed your own suffering the moment you left your heaven. You’d seen hell and this path led you straight to the devil’s den.

Buy your time Y/N, you thought. Open up a can of worms that will make her beg for you to leave. You heard tales from before you joined the academy, from the days of Madison, Queenie and Zoe (rest in peace). You had learnt what happened to Misty, it had been used as an example (When Cordelia wasn’t around) to teach the girls not to do spells that could potentially harm them without being powerful enough.

 To save yourself from reliving the next few moments; the bone-crushing pain as she constricted your body with her powers (intentionally or not you’d never know) and the shrill pain and anger in her voice, that you’d rather forget.

Cordelia told you that they needed you. With the most sinister smile you could muster, you brought up the girl, how if they needed everyone they could get, why didn’t they involve Misty. That’s when the crippling pain started, you fought your ground. She would have to break every bone in order to keep you here and she wouldn’t do that. Cordelia told you because she was never meant to be a part of this, she got the girl killed (blamed herself for getting her stuck in hell etc) and she was trapped in hell. You interrupted, you’re living your personal hell, you never wanted to be able to see and talk to the dead. It’s affected every aspect of your life, and everything would be better if you never had your powers or better yet heard about the stupid school.

“Face it Cordelia, they're dead! They're all dead! And we will be too,” You said. “I won’t be much use with you guys. What you want from me is impossible? Might as well save your breath and let me go.” Her powers on you were dwindling.

 “You're more useful than gluten-free detector.” Madison added her two cents.

 “Madison-” Cordelia scolded. “Y/n, we need you-”

 “I can’t. All I can do is hear the dead.” You looked at them individually, taking in their expressions. “You’ll do fine without me.” After your final word, Cordelia dropped towards the ground feeling faint. Madison caught her before she met the decking. You wanted to rush over and help her, she wanted that. It would get you to stay. You stepped forward but retracted that step. Her eyes lit up for one second seeing she almost had you.

 “She will be there.” Her final attempt to get you to stay.

 “All the more reason not to help.”

~~~

It was hours before the Masquerade ball Venable and Mead announced for a Halloween to celebrate all they had been through. You had your mask laying out on your bed. You decided to keep it simple, not being much of a party person or wanting to be in the spotlight. You knew Coco was going to be over the top with everything. You felt bad for Mallory who probably had to do most of the prep work helping her get ready for the night of festivities. Then again, she too found to be crazy, maybe she deserved to do the work. No, she’s still a nice person.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts as you were setting up something that would take you time up until the ball. “Who is it?” you yelled. Mallory responded. You sighed, getting up to allow her inside.

“You’re right.”

“What?”

“Something is up with all of this. I shouldn’t have been able to do what I did. The crazy is the only thing making sense nowadays.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping Coco?” this came out more condescending then you meant it to.

“I needed to clear the air with you. Did you learn anything since we last talked?”

“No, but I jotted down everything I could remember from my little ‘visions’ and came up with every possible scenario I could think off.” She nodded her head and looked at the notebook you passed her. “This might seem ridiculous- “

“-what part of this isn’t.” You chuckled at her interruption.

“Could we be witches?”

She nodded, “Yes, ridiculous.” You backed up your claim, you had heard it mentioned a few times in your dreams, here were a ton of witchcraft books in the library and powers. It made sense. “Why are we here then? What are we meant to do?”

 “Isn’t it obvious- stop Langdon.” You held another book in your hands, you had read it over ten times. You knew it was important, but you couldn’t comprehend why. “We all have our parts to play Y/N. She has hers, you have yours.” You murmured under your breath. She asked you what you meant by that. “It was something I heard a vision/dream thing. A woman was trying to get me to do something, bring back her friends or something and I couldn’t.”

 “Revive them?”

 “More. Their souls had been erased by him- H-how do I know that? That wasn’t explained. Nevertheless, an impossible feat. Billie told me so herself but claimed if anyone could do it, it was me- WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS COMING FROM?”

 You heard Coco calling out Mallory’s name. She stiffened. She was getting ready to leave when you grabbed her arm. “No, you can’t leave. I’m making progress.” She went to say something, “If she can’t find you, it’s her fault. You aren’t her personal assistant anymore. I can get you out of it if you get into any trouble.”

There was another knock on your door. You recognised the knocking pattern easily. You told Mallory to hide in the closet and not make a sound. You would tell her when it was safe come out.

Venable came into your room to tell you about tomorrow night. She knocked on the door and waited for you to response. You yelled you were getting changed as you hid all the belongings scattered about your room as well as making sure Mallory was well hidden.

You allowed Venable to enter. Once the door was shut and locked behind her. She pulled up a chair to face you where you sat on your bed. 

“Mina, what are you doing here?” you asked, knowing full well you were going have to explain this later to the person hiding in your cupboard.

“It’s about the party tonight. I don’t want you to come. I need you to hide away until I come looking for you okay?”

 “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Nothing my darling. I’ll explain it all later.”

She knew you would disapprove and try and convince her out of it. If you didn’t know you couldn’t do much to stop her. All she wanted to do was keep you safe. She hadn’t told Mead about you and her yet, she was saving that until after the deed was done.

 “Alright, love.”

“Stay safe, baby girl.” She placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

 You told Mallory it was safe to come out. She gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything. You would have threatened her to keep her mouth shut but you had a feeling by the end of the night there would be no one to tell.

“You’re staying with me,” you commanded. She went to voice her concerns, but you weren’t having them. “That’s a direct order.” You never ordered the greys around more than you had to, and, in this situation, she was better off with you than the others. You knew you were sentencing the others to death but if you saved them than you were only risking yourself.

 “What about Coco and the others?”

 “We don’t know what she’s going to do but for humanity or what’s left of it, it’s best if we stay out of the way.” You said, not pleased with what you were saying. “Anyway, I need your help. If we have any time left, we’ll save them.”

 You sat on your bed, a book on your lap. You set an hourglass ready to be flipped for a timer. “How do we know this is going to work?” Mallory asked. You didn’t, your running on gut instinct. With chances of death, you shouldn’t be taking this lightly. On the outside, you were calm and collected (better described as a reckless moron), you had to try to keep your hands from trembling. The books page stained from when your sweaty fingers touched the page. Everything will be fine. OR YOUR GOING TO FUCKING DIE. No. Maybe. You’re not a psychic- oh wait.

“This is going to be dangerous.” For you, not her. You didn’t clarify. She didn’t ask.

 The book was full of ancient spells lost to time. That’s dramatic but there weren’t for beginners-hell the front advises you not to do this unless you’re a level three witch/warlock and specialise in said field. The book contained parts of all branches of witchcraft; from spellcraft to ‘green magic’ (botany. There was something for every purpose. There was one for time travel, that’s weird. One thing they all have in common is they can all cause death if done incorrectly. Good thing you’re a well-trained magic-user. Yeah, even sarcasm isn’t going to save your arse.

 From what you read this was an alternated version of Descensum. There was no guarantee you would be able to remember who or why you were there. This changed version was meant to help you remember that your mission and keep you on path. It was also supposedly meant to slow down the time you could stay there, time worked differently in the netherworld, five minutes hopefully won't be an hour on the land of the living. You only had an hour so you need all the time you could get.

 "I don’t know if this alteration will help me, it has never been tested with success.”

“Wait- what?”

“That’s why you’re here. I need you to try and wake me when the timer is close to running out.”

“What happened when it runs out?”

“Who knows,” you said way too cheerily.

You laid down, waiting for Mallory to get ready to flip the hourglass before chanting the phrase.

 You jolted awake in a dark room. Sounds of yelling penetrated through the walls vibrated through the air around you. The room lacked personal items, only containing a dull bed and dresser. Your parent’s friends were over again. You hated the lot of them when they hung out. Your parents, much like the rest of your family had no restraint when it came to drinking. Best to stay away, you noted. You usually slipped out your window for a couple hours, riding your bike to the nearest library to study. You tugged at the window but it wouldn’t open, bolted shut. Shit. You opened your bedroom door and entered the hallway. Aspects of it were off but it had been years since you had been in your childhood home. The walls were pixelated, that statically effect you get naturally when looking at something but enhanced by ten percent. The doors were in all the wrong places and the pictures were all scribbled over. The images from throughout your life, not only your childhood.

“What’s going on?” You asked, hoping someone would answer you. No one was at home. This wasn’t your home. It was two unfamiliar. Someone had corrupted your parent’s house.

It’s wrong.

Everything’s wrong.

The details of your first home rearranged causing a disorientating experience. You couldn't remember what details were right, the place was messing with you. Where were you? Which house were you in? You caught a glance of yourself in a golden framed mirror you swore was the same one you had at your house with Mina. You were dressed like a kid playing dress-ups. Nothing went to together, styles clashed, the only common theme is that you had rocked the styles individually in the past.

You felt eyes watching you. You had no time to think about that right now, you had to make sense of surroundings. Or maybe you didn't?

This was your hell, utter confusion. It kicked up your new(ish) found identify complex to the max. Behind you a shadowy figure loamed but when you spun around, he was gone.

You were here for a reason, get on with it. You’re in hell. This wasn’t that bad, disorientating yes but the self-awareness of being here ruins any terror. What was your hell meant to be? They couldn’t even decide on one thing for you.

You had to find that figure, they would know how to help you. There was a door where the being stood. The door was black with a golden handle. It was your best guess on getting out of there. It led to a long corridor; it was dead silent. Protected from the horrors behind the doors. The walls were grey with a glossy finish allowing to see yourself. Yellow fluorescent lights hung above you, each perfectly spaced apart from the last. All parallel.

Were any of these people erased? Michael couldn’t have gotten rid of this many people, could he? None knew you. Each time you opened a door you expected for someone to call your name, surprised by your presence. No, something was wrong?

“Where am I?” You yelled at the ceiling. “Where did you send me?”

You couldn’t keep testing doors in an endless hallway. One more and you’re done. You opened the door to see Mead? Unlike the rest of the people, she seemed to be enjoying her torment. You entered the room keeping a distance from the woman. You didn’t know she died.

She noticed your presence immediately.  From what you gathered, this place was meant to be some sort of hell, but she didn’t appear to be in pain. This room was wrong. Maybe it was a clue?

“Who are you?” she asked, her words filled with hate. She could tell you weren’t meant to be here; you weren’t one of the usual demons.

“You don’t know who I am? Interesting.” You treated her like eighth grader’s science experiment. “Don’t worry, I’m just a worker. Just making sure your stay is as terrible as possible.”

“Dressed in Victorian wear?”

“Yes.”

You scooped out the room, something had to be off. How did she not know you? You noticed a crack between the wall and the floor, a white glow came from between the crack. Was there another floor? If there was another floor, they were stairs. You exited the room, to see if the cracks continued. They did. You followed the way. You felt your body being shoved, no! you're so close. You were going to do this if it’s the last thing you do.

If they weren't going to come to you, you could come to them. Whether it be because you were trashing the place or because you found out where they had been hiding.

“The floor has to go.” You stomped, attacked and tore at the floor hoping it would give saw. You were forced to duck into a room and grab the nearest sharp object. You opened the black door and you were greeted with a peaceful cabin in the woods. It recked of wild animals. You scanned around looking for something strong enough to make some damage.

You ran into the room, flipping everything in your way for something to destroy the place.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” A woman’s voice broke through the ruckus you were creating. You looked over at the woman, an elder blonde lady who looked to dressed up to be in a place like this stared at you, a glass in her hand.

“You the room’s owner?” The woman nodded. You could have sworn you had seen someone like her before, in a photo or painting somewhere. You shook your head. “I don’t have time for this, the world depends on me. Do you have anything that can smash through the floor or make any damage whatsoever?” You didn't care at this point. Maybe you should just release everyone, that would work too.

The woman scoffed; she took a sip of her drink, “The world wouldn’t depend on a Victorian lady. The worlds moved on since then.”

“You’re the dead one bitch,” She looked at you confused for a second. Then it clicked you weren’t an ordinary human.

“You’re not human?”

“Psychic.”

“Psychics can’t travel between life and death. You’d have to be something else as well.”

“I only got an hour for this, so can you please tell me if I’m wasting my time here or not.” She turned to face you completely.

“There’s an axe in the room to your right.” You ran back to the door.

"What year are you from?"

You went to the room and there was, in fact, an axe. You cheered. "2021, I think. It's hard to tell nowadays. You know end times and all." She didn't know what you were one about. She must have died before then. “To keep it quick, the apocalypse happened. Humanities down to one outpost run by my kind of ex- long story- anyway a man, the anti-christ has come to ‘rebuild the world’ and we need to stop him. Problem is, other than where in his father’s domain, he is super powerful. To my knowledge, only three women are left. Two if I die here.”

“Witch?”

“My life’s a long story-” You said swinging the door opened. "You like causing chaos?"

She perked up.

Was it a smart idea taking someone out of their hell for your own benefit? No. Do you care? No. You scrapped your idea of finding them, the place was infinite. You had to bring them to you. You told her to let as many people out as possible, get them to cause a riot, whatever, just make it big. You wanted to be heard.

It only took a couple of minutes to turn the place into a madhouse.

You felt your body being shoved again. You clenched your heart. You need more time. “You don’t happen to know any of the demons or spirits or whatever working here, one I could make a deal with.” You asked the woman.

She gave you one, the name of a Voodoo Loa she had made an offer to back when she was alive. You were expecting the name of an old god, maybe a Greek god or something but anyone would do. You had heard of his name before, Papa Legba, the gatekeeper of the spirit world. If anyone knew anything, he was your best bet, if he couldn’t help you, he might know who. You were prepared to make any deal you had to rid the earth of that man.

You gasped for air, chest heaving as you tried to get in as much air as humanly possible. Your need to breath distracting you by your near success. You’d almost done in, that mysterious blonde lady in your dreams would have been proud of you, but you were cut short. You had so little time. You had to go back there. You needed air.

You didn't recognise you were back until Mallory scrambled to your side, checking to make sure you were fine. You pushed her away the moment you got your breath back. “How did it go? what happened?” Mallory asked.

“I found out about someone who might be able to help but I didn’t get enough time to find him” You stared into thin air. “I need to go back, seal the deal.”

“You cut it close this time, what if I can’t wake you up next-”

You noticed mist wafted around the room’s floor. The shadowy figure from before took a seat on the armchair in the corner of your room. His eyes were red, and he wore greyish-white face paint in the shape of a skull matching by a hat with small skulls around it, decorated with various bird feathers. You were confused about why he was there, you hadn’t petitioned for his presence, formality hadn’t been your strong suit in years.

He had come out of his own accord, not for yours. Word had gotten out that you were causing trouble hell. Letting people go, interfering with other people’s hells as well as making it difficult to decipher what your personal hell was.

“The spirit witch, I heard about you.” The spirit said. “Was expecting you to visit sooner”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble, in your short time down there.”

“Plenty more of that where it came from unless I get what I want?”

He already knew what you wanted, “What you want is near impossible.”

“‘Near’, I like my chances.”

“You sure about that?”

Positive. If there is any way, you have to tell me.

“I don’t have to do anything.” He wanted something out of it.

“But you know something?”

I might. What is your offer?

“I don’t know what needs to be done so how can I make a good offer.”

“I can get you back the souls, but it will get me in trouble with the others.”

“I don’t just want their souls. I want them back.”

“That will cost you more.”

“Uh, the antichrist.”

“The antichrist?”

“Yes, he’s on earth. You can have him.”

“How are you going to get him to me?”

“We’re going to kill him. But I need the girls to do so.”

“The process is difficult.”

“You want more?!”

You looked over to Mallory, who shrugged. She didn’t know how to deal with spirits. Neither of you knew of something you could offer to seal the deal.

“A soul for a soul.” You’d have to give him many souls in order to get all your girls back and living.

“If I give you two souls, I get two girls back in the living” He nodded. “What about the others?”

“Whatever I see fit.” He’ll probably keep them. He had a thing for keeping souls.

Who else could you offer up? Then it hit you, “You can have me.”

“Y/N, no!”

“By the end of the day, you can have me in exchange.”

He hummed. “Deal.”

With that he was gone. Mallory looked mad at you. “You don’t know what your doing is even the best thing to go and you gave yourself away. All for some random woman in a dream that might not even be real.”

“Yep. Don’t tell Venable.”

Neither of you knew what or who to suspect, all you hoped is you got the right two girls. To be fair, you didn’t know how to girls could help you save the world, but you guessed there was strength in numbers. Their value better be worth your soul. You had no idea what was waiting for you in the sp. You promised he could have your soul (and in turn do what he wished with it) but you never promised to behave.

“You shouldn’t have given up yourself,” Mallory scolded you for the fifth time since he left. It was a waiting game now, you were told to wait behind by Venable, you didn’t know how to tell her that sold your soul away. You hoped you wouldn’t have to, maybe you could kill him and in turn yourself before she found out.

Two voices brought your attention towards a pair of young women about Mallory’s age.

“Y/N? Mallory?” they both said.

“How do they know who I am?” You shrugged in response to Mallory’s question. The two looked at Mallory confused by the words that left her mouth.

“Where are we?” One asked.

“Outpost three. The world ended, she saved you.”

You nodded, while still trying to catch your breath. The two saw all the spell things set up as well as the hourglass. They had their suspicions on what one of you did. From looking at it, it was you. From there knowledge you couldn’t do control your natural powers let alone do Descensum. The unfamiliar scenery along with you and Mallory’s strange attire told them they weren’t at the academy anymore. They remembered what happened. They had died but it didn’t feel like death. It felt like they were ripped out of the time they were in and shoved in the room they were now. There clothes stained with the blood but no wounds.

Mallory filled them in on how the world had turned into a toxic wasteland. How you two had been sent her due to your boss’ family not being able to make it before the world ended. She admitted to not knowing who either girl was. One of them muttered about Cordelia probably doing a memory spell. You knew that name, Cordelia. You had heard it so many times. You reacted to the name.

“You mean that nice blonde lady who was a- I don’t remember the word,” You asked.

“Supreme?”

“Bingo.”

“How did you save us if you can’t remember who we are?”

“That woman- Cordelia, she told me so many times that I needed to find a way to save the girls. Mainly you two. It must have stuck with me after all these years.” Mallory went to say something, you feared about the price you had to pay so you decided to cut her off. “All other details are irrelevant now and won’t help us. So, tell us, what makes you two so important?”

“Nothing much, Mallory’s more important than us.” Mallory cocked her head. “We’re the teachers of the school along with being a part of the witch’s council.”

 “How am I important?”

“You’re the next supreme,” Queenie said. She had to tell her what the supreme was. Mallory thought that was a mistake, claiming that you had shown more power than her, the only thing she had down was cause fires to spit out everywhere.

The two needed to figure out why neither of you could remember. What had Cordelia done to seal your safety?

 Venable stood on the balcony overlooking all the festivities. All the men and women were cheering and applauding as they took turns bobbing for apples.

 “Let's all wait until each person has had an opportunity to participate in tonight's activities. Then we will feast together like civilized beings,” Venable said as the first person to get an apple went to take a bite.

“I can't find The Fist, Y/N, Coco or Mallory anywhere and Mr.

Langdon has declined our invitation,” Mead informed Venable. “We got to put the brakes on. Stop it now. No witnesses.”

“It's too late for that.” Venable turned to face her partner in crime, a delicious grin on her face. “Once they've had their fun, we'll bring the festivities and your gun to him.”

Venable went back to observing the party. Emily missed her apple, she chuckled while saying, “Oh, I suck at this game.” Timothy offered to share with her. Venable grimaced.

Apples willed with snakes’ venom. Once eaten the venom enters the bloodstream through their digestive tract. Immediate breakdown of their nervous systems and the lining of their stomachs. With none of them knowing that the deed had been done, there was no way of slowing the process and with no doctors or medicine, they were done for. A perfect crime. Near perfect if they could have gotten everyone. “It won't be pretty,” Mead described it.

Venable held the fruit in her hands, raised so they all could see it as she thanked The Cooperative for the blessed fruit, they have bestowed upon them.

The world had turned full circle. The original sin, an apple taken from the tree of knowledge. Humans developed away from the eye of God, who needed god when you had free will. Greed and hate-fuelled his people. In the end, all the progress humans had made will end the same way, by partaking in the forbidden fruit.

The final sin by modern man.

Thou shalt not kill

“It is time to enjoy our good fortune. You have your treat.”

Everyone takes a bite of their apples. They began to retch then cough. Blood came out. Dead occupants scattered all over the music room.

“Now, that went off rather well, don't you think? Little messier then I would have hoped.”

“Least we don't have to worry about cleaning up. We shouldn't keep Mr Langdon waiting.”

“Ladies, I'm a little busy right now formulating my selections.

“This won't take long.”

“What's this?”

 “We're making the selections now, Mr.

Langdon.”

 “And I'm afraid you didn't make the cut.”

 “I'm sorry.” Langdon laughed. “I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn't hold it in.”

 “You think this is funny?”

 “I think I'm impressed, Ms Venable. I wasn't sure you had it in you. You've passed the test. You're perfect for The Sanctuary.”

 “Ms Mead.”

 I wouldn't do that.

 “Ms Mead.”

 The bullet went straight through her. Venable gasped. As the blood seeped out, through all her shock of being betrayed by the person whom she believed was her friend, she remained composed. All she could think about as she laid on the ground where she fell was how she had failed you.

 “I don't know why I did that. I was always loyal to her.” Ms Mead rushed out.

“It's all right. You were obeying commands like you're programmed to do. My commands,” Michael comforted. He leant over her fallen body, “You could’ve been a good subject in the new world. Oh well, another lot of wasted protentional.” He crutched down, getting closer to her face, “what did you do with the medium? You wouldn’t have sent her to her death, where did you hide her?” Venable stared daggers at the man.

 “The girl is still alive?” She was confused about what girl. Venable never spoke of you to her.

 “Her lover. Venable would have hidden her before setting up the masquerade,” He filled Mead in. “Tell me where she is, and I will save you.”

 “Over my dead body,” Venable chocked out.

 “So be it.”

 “She won’t be getting far. Once she finds out about her lover, she’ll be back.”

 “How can you guarantee that?” Besides the fact that he was the antichrist.

 “She’s weak. She’ll be begging for us to bring her back.” He counted on that.

 You all heard the gunshot from your bedroom. Zoe and Queenie was more alarmed than you and Mallory. You both knew the leader of the outpost was up to something but didn’t know the logistics.

 “Venable?” Mallory asked.

 “Probably,” you responded back. You needed to come up with a game plan and quick. “It’s the safest for me to go out because of my ‘relations’ to the leader. Mallory kept with those two while I get the location and status of Langdon.”

 “Michael Langdon’s here?” After hearing that, they didn’t like the idea of you going out. You were the weakest of the four back in the day, but with the Mallory, under a memory spell (and in turn making her unsure of herself) the ranks were all over the place. “Don’t wait up for me. Find Coco and stay safe.”

 You scrambled around your room looking for your trusty switchblade you had since before the apocalypse before you dashed out of your room and went scoped out the environment. The candlelit place wasn’t helping your nerves. It made the place feel like a horror film.

 She should have been back by now. You made your way towards the gunshot. Michael’s room. Two figures were leaving. One was Mead, the other wasn’t your girlfriend. Oh, God. What had she done?

 They turned your way and approached. “Do you want me to kill her?” Mead asked. He moved the hand with a gun in it down so nuzzle pointed the ground. He saw you as no harm to them. You were full of empty threats.

 “Ms L/N, the woman I wanted to see,” Michael said. “The last human resident of outpost three. You should be congratulated.”

 “Something tells me that’s not why you wanted to see me.”

 “I’m offering you a spot as my faithful servant, a spot in The Sanctuary in other words.”

 You raised your brow, “What do I get out of it?”

 “Whatever your heart desires,” He responded. You wondered why you? As if he could read your mind he said, “Your abilities would be incredibly useful in the new age. You would be access to some of the greatest minds in history. Nothing could stop us Y/N.” He offered out his hand to take it. You stand there motionless. No intent of moving closer or further. “Take your time, I have all day.” Again, you don’t move. “You might like to take a look in my room before you make your decision.”

 You rushed past them, brushing shoulders with Michael. He was sure that when you saw the state of her, you would beg him to bring her back and in doing so have to join the ‘dark’ side.

 Her body laid in a pool of her own blood. You gasped before dashing to her side. You checked for a pulse. Her skin was growing colder by the second. Please be alive. No beating. You leant down to see if she was breathing. Nothing. This had to be a sick dream. You would wake up in her arms and she would console you. She would pull you into her chest and run her hand through your hair until you fall back to sleep. She would be there when you needed her, and you would do the same for her. You only got her back, she had to be alive. She had to be.

Something was different in the air. Something was stronger. The air has been disrupted.

 How could he ask you to join him after he did this to your beloved?

 You hunched over, curling into her lifeless body. Your tears mixing with her crimson blood. “Baby, wake up,” you sobbed. “I need you. You can’t leave me.” You kiss her body as if your touch could bring her back to you. She just needed to know you were here and she’ll come back, you thought. You wouldn’t give up. Any idea was better than not trying.

 You pushed down on her chest, wincing as you heard a few cracks. You gave her the air from your lungs then went back to pushing down. Repeat. After three tries you stopped. “I’m sorry, I was never good enough for you. You deserved the world and instead, you got me.” You leant down, resting your forehead against hers, shutting your eyes. “I ruined the last few years of your life and I couldn’t even tell you why. You were my everything. I should have treated you better. I hope your happy, wherever you are.” You exhaled.

 A hand touched your face, cupping itself on your cheek. “Babygirl.” Your brain didn’t recognise the touch in your distraught state. Her hands weren’t warm but ice cold, ghostly even. Her thumb wiped away the tears. All you could think about was how she was gone. Her words, her nickname for you, was just her ghost reaching out to you, you were sure of it. That’s the problem with seeing the dead, they haunt you. Maybe it was for the best, it would give you a chance to say goodbye.

 “I’m so sorry, I should of-” You refused to open your eyes, not wanting to see her as she once was, someone (even though it may seem sick) you preferred to see her as how she died. It made the process easier to hate yourself for what you had done to her.

 “Shh~” Her voice cooed. “Baby, can you look at me?” You shook your head. “Please?” You couldn’t say no to her. Slowly you opened your eye. You gasped. She was alive, beneath you, but how? “That’s better.”

 “H-How?” Mina had no clue. You offered to help her up. One hand grabbed her shoulder, the other held her side. You felt her ribs move as you helped her up. Shit, you remembered, you broke her when you tried to give her CPR. “I think I broke a few of your ribs”

 “I can’t feel them, or my back- my back pain is gone.” She went wide eye. An astonished look on her face.

 You share the same look, bubbling with excitement. “That amaz-ing,” a sudden pain shot through your head. A slipping migraine causing you to launch away from your girl and rest the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop the pain. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHH~” you screamed.

“Baby?” looked over worriedly at you.

 Migraines weren’t uncommon during your time at the outpost, but they were never this extreme or sudden. Your brain was like being stabbed by a blunt screwdriver repeatedly.

 “SSSSTTTOOOOOPP~” You hand formed a fist and was drawn away from your forehead only to snap back like a rubber band. Mina caught it before you could unconsciously slam your fist into your head. It wouldn’t silence your mind or stop the pain. “IIIITTTTT HHUUUUURRRRTTTTSSSS~”

 ~~~

 You ended up helping in the end. Some god must have planned it out because you had made it all too easy to for The Cooperative to find you. In the final two years, you gave it you're all in acting, using your magic only helped you so far. You convinced yourself in order to succeed, you needed to forget. Forget the witches, forget the old life, forget it all. Your last magic-related task, using your limited memory of your botany classes, you mixed up a fine powered to help you forget. 

 The hotel was cold next morning. You were tripping heavily but you never felt better. You didn’t know your name or where you were. You didn’t care. Life was blissful. The worry set in a couple weeks later reflects around you rejigged your memories. Some bitchy blonde came to your hotel room, complaining about how you were stupid and the supreme had sent her to get you. Supreme? You think you ordered a supreme pizza, was she the pizza lady?

 “You’re too pretty to be the pizza lady.”

 “What? Were you listening to me? Cor-”

 “I don’t care what Cornelius wants unless it’s my pizza, then he can’t have it.”

 “Who the fuck is Cornelius?”

 “I don’t know, you’re the one talking about him.” You said to the younger woman. “And tell Samantha she can’t get with me. This pussy ain’t free real estate.” You shake your fist to the ceiling

 “I was sent here to pick up an alcoholic, you're somehow more annoying drunk or maybe it’s because I’m sober”

 “I know you can hear me, whore,” you said this as the ‘pizza lady’ spoke. “I’m high, not drunk- Wait, shit, are you with the cops?”

 “Why couldn’t she have sent Myrtle?” the woman whined.

 “Snow.”

 “YES! THANK GOD- What are you doing?” 

 You were beside the window, pointing and laughing. 

 “It's snowing!” You were giddy at the sight of white flakes falling from the sky. The biggest smile on your face. The other woman had never seen you so happy, you weren’t aware that she knew you. You had almost forgotten she was there.

 “We need you to do a seance,” the woman said to you. 

 “I don’t like salad.” The woman inhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. You were testing her patience. “But if it comes with the pizza, I don’t mind.”

 “Seance, we want to talk to the dead.”

 “Bread sounds good too, oh~ I get it now, your room service.”

 The woman grumbled something about not wanting to have to pick you up as she pulled out her phone and dialled a number. 

 “Madison?” The voice said through the speaker. You eyed the little box in this ‘Madison’s hands’.

 “I found her, but she’s doped up on drugs.” There was mumbling in the background. 

 “y/n,” the voice through the speaker said. The voice, a woman, explained what Madison was trying to. She took her time, knowing you were under the influence of something.

 “Need me to talk to the dead? Get somebody else! Maybe that craigslist medium that was too much of bitch to love me! Uh~ the sex was great though. I think she’s famous now. Maybe if I sleep with her again, I’ll might make the tabloids.”

 “She’s bad shit crazy,” Madison said.

 You groaned, rubbing your head. “Fuck, I didn’t take enough.” You walked over to your coffee table covered in bits and bobs. Madison followed you asking what you didn’t have enough of. She noticed some of the items could be used for a spell. You pulled out a zip lock bag with a greenish-brown powder. You sprinkled it into your cup of red wine. “What’s in the bag?” she asked.

 “None of your concern Madison,” You went to take a sip when you caught sight of her shocked expression. Her lips remained on the glass. “What?” You put your glass down on the table. “Wait, how did you find me?”

 “Madison, you still there?” Cordelia’s voice from the phone’s speaker.

 “Cordelia?” You said confused. You were in a hotel, your hotel room. Wait, why were you in a hotel room? You looked back at your drink. Red, a colour that seemed to follow wherever you went. You picked up the glass, swirling it around mixing the powder further into the drink.

 “You remember?”

 “Hmm~” You weren’t happy about it.

 “We found a book that we think would help with what Cordelia wanted you-”

 “I don’t care what she wanted me to do,” You said standing up and getting into her face. You leaned over her. You took a small sip of your drink before heading to the window, gazing down onto the city below. “If she’s really powerful enough, she can do it herself.” Another sip. “I was happy before I met you all. You all wanted my story, well here it is, so listen up bitches.” You gave a summary of your life, speaking loud enough so the phone could pick up your voice. Every so often taking a sip of your drink. “I never should have joined you. You’re going to leave me and let the bombs do their jobs.” You chugged the rest of your spiked drink. “I always hated the colour red. Reminds me of all the worst things; blood, danger, love. Purple was always my favourite, especially lilac. Only one thing has matched the colours so well and now it’s gone from me.” Your tone grew angrier by the second. “Soon, I won’t remember who you are, or who I am and you sure as hell better get out before then or you won’t have to wait for the apocalypse because I will bring it to you.”

 ~~~

“NOOOOOOO~ I DON’T WANT TO REMEMBER!” So much blood and carnage. Everything was stained in a coat of crimson red. So many people you couldn’t save, so many women and men killed by that man- if you could even call him that.

 You weren’t alone anymore but surrounded by the souls of many.

 Were you in your own body? You felt air-light among them. Your body was hunched in the same pain-stricken position you were moments before. An out-of-body experience, that’s it.

 “Y/N,” a voice called for your attention. Your head darted in the direction of a woman. A friend? Mallory. Alongside her was Coco, the two weren’t dressed in the Victorian clothes you expected them to be in, it resembled the ones they wore in your dreams. Behind them was a crowd of men in school uniforms, sounding you in a circle. Other familiar faced were there too, all the fallen residents were there, lost in the crowd.

 The woman grew closer, getting down to your level to speak to you.

 “You’re dead?” You asked her, briefly looking over to Coco. You half expected a snarky comment from her to confirm your suspicion.

 “We need you to stop Michael.”

 “Already planned on that.”

 “You won’t be able to do that if you don’t allow yourself to remember-”

 “Who says that, because you saw what I did earlier.”

 “That wasn’t me persa-”

 “Cordelia put us under an identity spell,” Coco looked over to Mallory. “What? We might as well tell her now,” she whined.

 “Was I?”

 They shrugged. They informed you that their bodies where dead and that you would have to revive them in order to stop Langdon. Once awake they would continue to live as their false identities until the spell was lifted. You asked how that had anything to do with you allowing yourself to relive the forgotten years. It had everything to do with it. All of you had to be at your apex and you couldn’t do that if you’re where holding yourself back. Emotions control your powers and though a highly emotional people tend to be reckless, their power can is at their best if controlled well enough. They believed in you. That was a dangerous thing.

 The stinging came back in slow bursts. Your body weighed down. Deep breath in and out.

 Maybe you should stop fighting against it.

 In and out.

 This was it.

 The end of days.

 In the final hour, who will fall?

 You had to lose the fight to with the war. Your blurred vision steadied on a cane long forgotten by its owner. Your arms restrained by a tight grip. They loosen as you seem to intense and less hostile. The power you sensed before; you knew what it was for sure now.

 That man was going to pay for what he has done.

 “They’re here,” you muttered as you stood up, wobbling due to being lightheaded. You found Venable’s cane and hand it to her. Helping her up.

 “Who? Michael?” She bombarded you with questions which you left unanswered.

 You were sure of yourself. Something you hadn't been in years. The merge of your forgotten self and the time since then elevated your knowledge of magic. You thanked yourself for your introvert bookworm traits through the past year and a half.

 You used a power you developed late into your stay at the shack. You counted the living presences you sensed. One… Two. You knew who they belonged to. You sensed a third soon after, Michael.

 "Wilhemina, odd question but is Ms Mead alive?" You saw her walk out of the room with Michael, but she was also in hell. She couldn't do both -unless she was killed and brought back. He was capable of resurrection.

 "That's a difficult question. If you mean like how we are no, she's a robot."

 "No spirit then, good to know," You muttered to yourself. “We need to find Coco and Mallory,”

 “Why? What reason would you need those two?”

 Four... five. The other two must have found them.

 Six? Someone different to the others, no power about them. They recked of death but were hanging on.

 “Are there still guards scoping outside the place?”

 “No, they’re dead.” You turned to her and pulled a face, a mix between confused by her actions and disgusted. “What?”

 “Nothing.”

  Seven…Eight...nine. Everyone’s arrived. Ten? Who was that? Stevens. The number increased but dropped soon after. What was going on?

 You left the room heading the same way as Michael and Mead went. Venable followed behind keeping a good pace. You both heard voices on your way to wherever everyone else was. Mina asked who the other voices were. You remained quiet. You reached the stairs main stairs when you saw Michael plummeted to the ground. Mead’s robotic body laid on the ground, her head was nowhere to be seen. You stepped over the body and watched the chaos. 

 “Who the hell are these people?” Mina asked you. She stood beside you to your right.

 “Witches,” You responded. There was one person you didn't know but from the looks of it she was on your side.

 “There you are Y/N, we weren’t sure if you were going to show up.” Last time you made it clear you wanted no part of any of this, how far you had come. You'd given yourself away for the cause. Crap, you had forgotten about that. You prayed Mallory hadn't told the others yet.

 “We worried when we couldn’t find you,” Zoe said.

 “You know these people?” Venable asked.

 Michael looked up at the women on the stairs. “H-How? I killed-”

 “YOU KILLED MY FIANCE? I WILL DESTROY YOU!” You went to dismember the man, but someone held you back. You looked at her questioning what she was doing when she gestured to the blonde with mead’s handgun, Madison. She was telling you that they could take care of it. She didn’t want you getting hurt in a fit of rage.

  “We need to find a tub,” Cordelia said looking between the residents of outpost 3.

 “Mina, where’s the closest bathroom with a bath?”

 “The grey’s communal one in the west wing.” The one near the swirly stairs.

 “Follow us!” you waved them to follow you, then dashed in that direction.

 Mallory and Cordelia ended up leading the way as Mallory knew the way. You stuck by Mina’s side as you all ran. Coco was beside you trying to keep up in her over the top Victorian attire.

“It’s good to see you happy even if it’s the end of the end,” Coco said. 

 “Thanks Coco, it’s good that you’re not like Madison anymore.”

 “It was a living hell. How can someone be that mean?” her eyes fell to Venable’s. “Uh~”

 “Keep your eye’s forward Ms Vanderbilt,” Venable commanded.

 “Still scary.” You chucked at her response.

 You heard screams from ahead. Oh no, what happened? Something ignited and fell over the railing. Ten. Someone’s gone. Nine. The mystery being was gone.

 “What happened?” Coco asked.

 You looked over the oldest witches. You saw the blood seeping out from her head. No. OH GOD.

 You became woozy at the sight. The chuckles and screams of girls filled your ears. Your sight goes warped. Eight. Bodies everywhere. How did she think this would make things easier?

“Come on, stay with me Mallory,” Cordelia said in-between trying to save her with Vitalum Vitalis. She couldn’t do it; her powers had dwindled for too long. No one else could do it, Madison and Zoe (Queenie was going to stay too, but it was insisted that she should go with them in case he got past them. Her powers could come into better play than theirs) had stayed down to stop Michael. Everyone else couldn’t except-

“Y/N.” Michael said he had killed your fiancée which means someone had to bring her back. You were the only one around. You were pale white. “Y/N?”

"Hmm~ uh- their gone," You slurred out, your eyes couldn't focus on one thing. You were about to warn them you didn't feel good when you fainted.

You felt someone shaking you awake. "Y/N" you moaned, not wanting to be woken up. Venable's voice was guiding you out of your drowsiness.

You roll over your feet falling off something. You help, jolting upright to grab your leg. A wave of dizziness rushes over you but before you could fall back you were caught by your love.

"Mina?"

"Yes, my love?"

Rushing water could be heard from behind you. Coco was trying to fill up the tub for Mallory as Cordelia tried to save the girl.

"Mallory!" Mina hushed you. Your little calling caught the attention of your Supreme. She hadn't noticed you were awake; she was too busy trying to keep the younger witch in her arms alive.

You tried to scramble over to the younger witch, but Mina held you back. With puppy dog eyes and the cutest pout, you could do, you convinced her to move you closer.

You took Mallory from Cordelia, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. You looked at Cordelia unsure if yourself. Mallory was alive, if barely. Leaning down you blew, transferring some of your life essential into her. She gasped, choking on the blood that dripped into her mouth.

"I'm sorry," you apologized to Mallory. Then you turned to the others and did the same. No one knew what you were on about. You had saved Mallory and in turn helped save the world. You turned to Cordelia, "I'm sorry I was never a good student, I was always absorbed in my thoughts. When you needed me, I ran out, something I had come to accustom to doing." You looked at Mina for a second. “I doubted myself and to be honest you, but I thank you for everything you have taught me."

"You were never a bad student," Cordelia said. "You've come a long way from when you joined us. You brought back two of my girls-"

"Yeah~" you dragged the word out. She knew instantly you did something bad. She went to question it, but you kept on apologising but this time to your fiancé.

"Mina, I ditched you to go to a school full of witches. I should have trusted you with that information, but I was scared and naive. I didn't stop thinking about you for a single second I was there-"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You deserve to know-"

"She sold her soul."

"WHAT?" Everyone other than Mallory and you said.

"WHY?"

"WE WERE RUNNING OUT OF TIME."

"THAT'S NO REASON TO-"

"DON'T GIVE ME THIS TALK NOW! YOU WANTED YOUR GIRLS, YOU GOT THEM!"

“Y/N-”

You pulled yourself upright, using the tub to steady yourself, “NO! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE. IT’S ALREADY BEEN DONE. DEAL WITH IT.” You didn’t know what a good scolding you would know. You did this for them, not yourself. You think you want to sentence yourself to hell. If they fail, you not only get your soul taken but you break a deal. You couldn’t comprehend the horrors of not completing a deal.

You tried, again and again, to get things right, only to fail every time. You were a runner, not a fighter, this was your chance to fight. Fitting that it will also be the thing that would kill you, you thought. If you took your time, not ran, maybe you could have done it. What a world that would be. Instead, you were the cowardice woman you’d always been.

 Using magic while highly emotional was dangerous- it was exactly what you needed. You were emotional, caught up in the moment. You would have to be in the same state again, it was when your powers were at their strongest. You weren’t needed in the equation anymore.[1] 

You made your way out of the room, pushing away anyone away. You wished Mallory luck knowing she would need it.

Cordelia was shattered by what you’d done- more than the others, she was the one who made you feel like you had to do it. You knew what she was thinking of doing and you couldn't let her. Once you were gone you couldn't stop her, but you postpone it until after you were gone.

You pushed past the two fighting with Michael. Queenie called out your name, confused with what you were doing. Marie Laveau was taken aback when you ordered them to back up. They had knocked Michael to the ground and had been teaming up on the boy. Michael had been knocked to the ground, he spat out some blood as he looked up to you expecting to see the two other women.

“Your offer still up?” You joked as you kicked him under the jaw. Falling back forwards, it took him a second to bounce back having already taken a beating from the other two.

You got into a boxing stance, gesturing him to come hither, “Come on, fight me like a real man.” You were surprised when he threw a punch at you. You swerved away, grabbing him by the collar of his dinner jacket and swung him into the wall.

Queenie cheered you on. You had gained an audience, Coco and Wilhelmina joined in watching. The sound effects they made as you fought him boasted your ego and enraged Langdon more. You were keeping him injured enough so he couldn’t use his magic back. Cordelia and Myrtle would have been helping Mallory into the tub about now if they hadn’t already. You prayed you could stay alive long enough for Mallory to go back. You didn’t want to die.  

You swung him around like he was a ragdoll. People may have thought you had taken fighting lessons when it was really easy to keep and already weak man down.

He was slumped against a wall, wiping the blood from his mouth. You approached the man, towering over his limp body.

“You had the audacity to offer me a spot as your servant when you killed my love. You underestimated me, dickhead,” you slammed him back into the wall to make sure he didn’t make a move. You had an idea, something you picked up in one of the magic books you read passing the countless hours you’d been stuck here. It was dangerous but you had everything you needed. “I won’t kill you, no, that would be back for my soul. Instead, I want to give you a gift.” You stepped back acting show offish as you did it. You pulled out your switchblade, flicking it open. You’d give them a story to tell for centuries. You dug the blade down the centre of your forearm, deeply enough to get some blood gushing out. You did the same to the other then muttered a curse. Your audience wondered what you were up to- as well as your puppet. “In my interview, I told you that you deserve to rot here. I was wrong. You deserve a lot worse and I know just the boys to do it.”

You whistled as loudly as possible. The walls and floors began to shake. Michael should never have come back to the school after what he did. You pointed at the man and yelled, “Boys, come and get him.”

The spirits of all the boys at this school he killed charged at him, pummelling him and beating him to a pulp. That should give the witches enough time to reverse time and kill Michael before all this happened.

Your audience was squashed to the side as the dead students came through. Coco, the one least in shock of what you did, rushed over to you going to drag you back towards the others. She was so excited about what she saw, raving onto you about how cool she thought it was as she guided you back to the other three. They all complimented you, but you couldn’t hear them over the ringing.

In the distance, you saw Papa Legba. You still had a deal to repay. The blood dripping from you kept rushing out, you were losing a lot of blood and fast. Michael wouldn’t last much longer with the ghosts; half your bargain would be repaid. You were the other half. None of them noticed your wooziness. In a spur of the moment, you pulled Wilhemina close to you and made out with her with as much passion you could while slowly slipping away.

With a last moment like that, maybe hell won’t be so bad.

Mallory had done it, she killed Michael. After all the trouble he caused all her sister witches, she managed to kill him by running him over when he was younger. It was underwhelming to say the least. Everything was right in its place. She would go back to the academy and everything would be alright. It was a little two earlier for her, originally, she had joined the school a little later, maybe a year or two. It wasn’t a probably, a head start wouldn’t hurt her. It did make her cautious for the current Supreme Cordelia. She couldn’t blossom too early in case it harms her friend. It was entirely possible that something was changed in the time travel. This isn’t her time; it could have messed with the universe causing disastrous consequences. She didn’t feel any weaker than the moment she did when Cordelia’s power flowed into her. Again, bring into question if this was her world just changed into time or an alternate universe. She guessed it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, what happened did happen because she travelled back in time and he couldn’t have technique died if it never happened. Too much, she can think about it another time, she needed to see- meet her friends and set everything straight.

One problem was solved but there were a couple others. First of all, she needed to stop Queenie from going to the Cortez. It was simple enough, Queenie brought up the show in her presence and she told her the view was bad. She decided to change hotel plans. She learned that Myrtle wasn’t alive in this time (one of the few downsides to saving the world) with no grave threat, Cordelia hadn’t found the need to resurrect the woman.

Another bonus to this timeline, because she killed the anti-Christ’s son, they brought back on of Cordelia’s friends. No one explained who did something good for the spirits to bring her back to them but Cordelia was forever thankful.

 It had been a couple months since Mallory arrived at the school before you turned up. When she originally arrived, you had been there for some time and already had the mystery surrounding you. She was going to stop that before it happened once more.

 It was the middle of the day when there was a knock on the door, Cordelia was the one to answer it as classes had already commenced.

“Hello,”

You were stunned, now that you stood there you didn’t know what to do. “Uh~” You shook your head trying to get your brain to work. “I saw your interview on the tv a couple months back and- um-”

“You think you might be a witch?”

“I hope so or I may have just made the stupidest decision in my life.” She was confused but you brushed it off saying for her not to worry about it. She brought you inside gesturing you to where you could leave your luggage while she interviewed you. “I’m sorry this might be inconvenient, but can I get a glass of water or something before you interview me, my throat’s a bit dry.”

“That’s no problem at all, I can show you around your new home to while at it.”

“New home yeah,” you mumbled not enthused by the thought of this being your new home, but you needed to be here to learn more about yourself. Cordelia could sense your uncomfortableness with all of this but blamed it with unfamiliarity.

The two of you walked past a class in session, you watched as you approached noting the two young witches teaching the class. They stopped teaching when they noticed that the class had focused their attention on the headmistress and you.

You didn’t enjoy being stared at, you lowered your gaze, playing with your engagement ring.

“New girl?”

“Yes, this is- uh~ I never got your name.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

“Doesn’t seem your last name will stay like that for much longer,” Mallory said. “Is that an engagement ring I spot?”

You chuckled awkwardly. This made some of the girls light up, some got out of there chair to see the ring. You shyer away, Cordelia was about to step in when the girls’ excitement decided to make you cave. These girls didn’t even know you and they were excited for you. Mallory slipped next to the Cordelia as they hassled you for more details on your partner, “Come on girl tell us about him.”

“You couldn’t have seen the ring from where you were sitting,” Cordelia said to the girl, not tearing her gaze from you.

“She was playing with it-” She knew Mallory was bluffing. “I can’t explain it to you, but she reminds me of an old friend.”

“No, no it’s a woman,” You said shy of telling them about your preferences- this was a girl only school. Unlike what you thought, the acceptance they showed helped to build your confidence in order to talk about your fiancé. The others loved listening.

“What happened to this friend?” Cordelia asked.

“She ran away from love to learn about herself and regretted it until the end.”

“Of her life?”

“Something like that,” Mallory said.

You made large gestures with your hands as you told the story of how you met. A few students gasped, all on the edge of their sits.

“Okay girls stop harassing Y/N,” Cordelia said. All the girls around you backed up. The smile you wore died down. You went back into your timid persona unsure of what to do. “We took up enough of your class time and I still need to get your paperwork in order.”

“Water?” You reminded Cordelia.

“Yes, this way.” She led you into the kitchen to get your beverage.

The paperwork was long and boring. Being under the school’s care meant they needed to be aware of any health issues you had, allergies and all that personal stuff so they could keep an eye on you if needed, make sure you’re in your best possible health and to ensure they don’t feed you something that could kill you. Besides that, it was standard information, birth date, emergency contact (if you had one), etc.

“Heaven forbid something happened to you; do you have anyone you would like us to contact?” She asked still looking down at your papers. When you didn’t respond she peered up. You shook your head. “What about your fiancé?” You lowered your head, shaking it again slowly. Cordelia settled her pen down. She clasped her hands in front of her before adjusting her chair, so she was closer to her desk and in turn you. “She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

“No Ma’am.”

“There’s no need for here formalities Y/N.” She leant forward, tilting her head trying to see your face. “Are you going to tell her?” You paid her the attention she wanted. She went back into her original position. “She’s going to worry.”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW?” You regretted what you said immediately, “I’m sorry. It’s just that she’s- I don’t know, complex? She wouldn’t understand-”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, not even allowing her a chance to understand you.” She had a point. “If you don’t tell her, I will, and it will look a lot worse for you if I do it.”

“You couldn’t do that-”

“I could perform a simple spell and find her in less than five minutes. Or I could do it the old-fashion way and ask for details from the girls you spoke to earlier. I’m guessing you mentioned a name?”

“Yeah.”

“Through the name into google along with some other details and I’m all good.” Maybe she wasn’t bluffing. “So, which will it be?” You didn’t want this woman to do it but how could you speak to her after what you’ve done? You were so convinced that she would reject you or hate your guts that you couldn’t phone her. “I ca-n’t,” you stuttered out, ashamed of yourself.

“Do you want to give me the number or are you going to make this difficult for me?” She asked.

You gave her the number in the end. She asked you to stay during the call, but you couldn’t. You sat outside looking out into the backyard.

“You alright there?” Mallory asked plopping down next to you. You nodded not paying her much mind. Sensing you were not, she offered to distract you for a bit by telling you a story. One of witches and warlocks, where the world came to end, and the survivors had to play it safe or die. You found similarities with one of the characters and another reminded you of your fiancé (funny enough the two were together in the tale). You thanked her for saving your mind.

“You told me the others lived happily after but what happened to the leader and her lover?”

“They-” Mallory was cut off with the entrance of Cordelia who asked if she was interrupting. You both shook your head.

“I spoke to her and-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Y/N-” Mallory put her hand on your shoulder causing you too look at her. “Listen to what she has to say.” You squinted at her; did you know her? Nah. You think you would remember her.

“She was irritated at first- mostly because she thought I was lying. She wants to speak to you.”

“I ca-”

“I told her that you refused and after a lot of talking, we booked her tickets to the next flight over.”

“You didn’t- why?”

“Your one of us now, we take care of our own.”

With the world as it should be, the lot of you had no care in the world. The whole ordeal of outpost 3 just a distant memory to Mallory.

When Wilhemina showed up at the academy’s door, there was a lot of sobbing (on your part). You were the one to open the door. Cordelia and Mallory was there for moral support and to make sure you actually went through with it.

 “Y/N/N?”

 The beautiful redhead stood in front of you.

You choked up, “M-Mina.” You pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first but warmed into the hug. “I-I’m sooo sorry. I’m so stu-pid.” She shushed you. She didn’t make you explain anything until you had calmed down.

It was odd to see the once feared head of outpost three in a different light. The woman, though hesitant at first, warmed up to the new world. Seeing how happy you were when she was around, Cordelia offered the woman a job at the academy helping Cordelia out with all the boring paperwork Cordelia always found herself drowning in. She even upped the pay to make the job more enticing. She never told you that she did that. Everything was behind your back. It was the best surprise you had in years. Wilhelmina remained in the office most of her time, you popped by when you didn’t have any classes (Cordelia may have walked in on you two a couple of times doing unspeakable things. She had to make it a rule no sex in the office).

 Though Wilhemina was bound to her office (or you) most of the time, she did grow close to the residents of Miss Robichaux's. When retelling all the events of the day, she would stop to make sure she knew which girl you were talking about, learning their names through the tales you told. You had to snap at her once or twice to be nice to your peers, especially the younger ones. A few tears were shed but you had a way with helping people feel better.

 The two of you held off on your plans until you were able to get married Louisiana. You held it at the school because the students had turned into both your family and there was no point in having it anywhere else. It was the definition of a fairy-tale wedding.

 Even though everything felt perfect, the devil wasn’t going to give up his plans that easily but this time the witches would be more prepared for the worst.

Thanks for reading :)

[packsbeforesnacks]

Blank Space || Darwin & Winn

TIMING: Wednesday, July 1st, 2020, Late Afternoon LOCATION: Fine Print (Darwin’s Bookstore) PARTIES: @wardinasrani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn visits Winston’s contact, Darwin, hoping to find answers about his hidden memories. When Darwin looks into Winn’s mind, the answer shocks them both. WARNINGS: Brief depiction of an anxiety attack.

Truth be told, Darwin wasn't too keen on coming out of hiding. The ritual a couple of weeks back had drained him, and it had taken him days to even feel like himself again. He wasn't an idiot, he knew the Asrani probably had people on his trail, and he'd decided to disappear at least until his magic came back. Now he could feel his energy flowing through his veins once again, power crackling at his fingertips, but did he feel safe from the Asrani's reach? Not really. Still, this was a favor to Winston, the kid he'd doomed with a cursed eye, the kid that had allowed him to perform the ritual that had stopped what could very well have been an apocalypse. Darwin owed Winston, the whole town owed Winston. White Crest might not be aware of its debt to the kid, but Darwin wasn't going to forget the part Winston had played in keeping the world safe. He'd help their friend, even if that meant coming out of hiding. When he heard the bell on the store ring, he raised his head and offered a polite smile. The door was open, even though the sign outside said closed. “Welcome. You must be Winston's friend, correct?”

It had taken a minute for Winn to find Fine Print, especially given the gaps in his memory (ha) he was still filling in with regards to the town’s twists and turns. Each new street could have hidden shops he’d never been into — and that was even before you started thinkin’ about all the magical shit that Winn couldn’t see, or could only see part of. Winston had put a lot of faith in this guy, so he hoped their bet paid off. Fine Print was louder than any bookstore Winn had ever been in (admittedly, not many), noises echoing from behind each shelf as he made his way to the only other person in the store. Winn considered Darwin’s question longer than was really appropriate, given its straightforwardness. “Friend, yeah, that’s me.” Winn wasn’t sure if Winston considered him a friend, but he’d let that last worm of anxiety wriggle its way around his head when there wasn’t a hole in his head — memories, whatever. “You’re the, uh,” he glanced around, knowing full well that there wasn’t another soul — well, maybe he shouldn’t go that far — in the store, “specialist that they mentioned, right? Darwin? I’m Winn.” Should he sit? Should he shake hands? His normal social graces weren’t applicable here, in the mage’s home territory. And God forbid he pick up a book just to make himself feel less awkward.

Darwin smiled as he studied the newcomer. Part of him, the part that he tried to hide from himself, enjoyed his nervousness: as an Asrani he'd been taught to use other people's anxiety, wield it as a weapon in order to get the best bargain. It was the reason behind the villainous mustache, the dark silk shirts, the haunted noises in his domain and the theatricality in everything he did: it created expectations in other people minds, tricked them into thinking he shouldn't be messed with. But this particular meeting wasn't about scoring a good deal, it wasn't about covering his own ass... Winn was no threat to him, and Darwin had nothing to gain from this except the warm, satisfying feeling of a good deed done. It was worth it: he had much to atone for on behalf of his family, any small step to improve his standing in this community and his karma was worth the risks. He walked over to Winn and nodded, offering him his hand. “Darwin Asrani, yes. The... Specialist.” That word sounded a bit cold to his ears: mental magic wasn't surgery, it wasn't something anyone could ever truly master: each mind was different, each spell simple at its core but presenting unexpected turns and surprises at every corner. Darwin gestured toward the small door at the end of the store, leading to the basement. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Winn. Tell me, are you the type that would prefer some small talk before getting into the reason for your visit, or would you rather jump straight to the point? I can make tea.” He was aware that, to someone who didn't know him, anything he said probably sounded sinister, but nevertheless Darwin tried to keep his tone friendly and casual.

Winn took Darwin’s hand in his own and shook it firmly before letting go. “Um,” he said, frown on his face, “I don’t mean to be rude, but… smalltalk afterwards, maybe? Sorry, it’s just… if the problem can get solved, I’d rather get it over with. It’s been a pain.” He looked towards the door, humming a bit in the back of his throat. “Some tea could be nice, though? I’m, uh, a little nervous?” It wasn’t the first time Winn had met a spellcaster, sure, but magic was all still so new to him. That mystery, ironically, kept Winn comfortable. The more he knew about it, the more scenarios his mind would play out, trying to figure out what could be possible. He’d already lost two years of memories to magic — albeit of a different origin, apparently. Winn had seen Nell summon, what, hellhounds? Winn might be a scary story, but magic was a fairytale, and, save for demons, was the hardest thing for Winn to accept about the supernatural world. Even Otto’s assertion that his father had protected his office hadn’t eased Winn’s anxieties around it. “I, um, don’t know how much they told you, about me, but to cut to the chase… I can’t remember everything in my past. For two years, there’s a… blur. I thought that I had been,” turned into a wolf, “preoccupied, during that time. But some folks say they saw me during that time… and I don’t remember ever seein’ them. My, um, my friend threw me into a tree, recently, and I slipped into a, like, almost a fugue state? Not the kind from any sort of identity disorder, but I couldn’t remember — can’t remember — the next five minutes. I came to, but… Yeah. I don’t want that to happen again. Someone,” how to phrase this delicately? “... could get hurt.”

Darwin nodded and offered Winn another smile. “Nervous is exactly what you should be,” he murmured solemnly. Jumping into magic with no fear, no doubts, that was reckless and stupid. Winn's concerns were understandable, wise even. Then again, Darwin reminded himself, doubts could also become obstacles when it came to magic. “My tea is terrible,” he concluded with a shrug, hoping the joke would ease the tension as he led his guest to the room. Darwin opened it and walked downstairs. Walls covered with libraries, a small altar in the middle of the room, runes and circles scribbled and carved everywhere, and a small electrical stove, along with some kitchen supplies. The room wasn't well-stocked enough to live there, but it had enough supplies to make some tea, and while Winn shared his tale, Darwin listened carefully, keeping himself busy with the stove. At the end of the tale, he turned around, arms crossed as the water boiled. “Mh. I see. Two years is quite a long time. My first guess would be, well...” He paused and bit his lip, stroking his mustache as he stared at Winn, deep in thought. The young man wasn't sharing everything: vague words like 'preoccupied', the awkward pauses... Darwin sighed. “Actually, I have a couple of theories. I'm going to assume you already tried regular medicine. When people come to me, they're usually at the end of their rope.” There he went again with the villainous talk. He shook his head and continued “I mean... Messing with magic can be dangerous, I'm sure Winston told you, and people don't always trust a perfect stranger with their mind, and who can blame them? But you need to understand... If you want my help, you'll have to be honest with me, no lies, no omission, or someone could get hurt.” He chuckled after echoing Winn’s own words, trying to show the guy he wasn’t threatening him, just offering Winn the same honesty Darwin was demanding of him. “So before I share my theories, I have to ask... Are you willing to do that?”

The room was about as Winn imagined a sorcerer’s would be, somethin’ out of Arthurian legend or the study of Freyja, but with modern edges, and an… altar? Some sort of centerpiece, definitely, and Winn didn’t know nearly enough about magic to begin to guess at what the placement, the runes, the shapes meant. It was enough to send his head spinning, so he focused on Darwin, ignoring the thrum of energy in the air. He’d known, of course, that he’d have to admit what he was to the mage, but… Well, he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him a bit uncomfortable, what seemed like every spellslinger in White Crest knowin’ about the werewolf with the broken memory. In the wrong hands, that information could be dangerous. But… Winn trusted Winston, knew that they wouldn’t intentionally steer him into a trap. “I’m willing. Um. I’m goin’ to assume you already know about… shapeshifters. Selkies, bugbears, and… werewolves.” He paced, careful to avoid stepping on anything not recognizably English. “I’m a werewolf. Bitten, not born. I, um, it’s been almost a decade. I have a friend whose parents trained him to be a hunter and we’ve been researchin’ for weeks — or, well, he has. Nothin’ we’ve found has been useful. Until a couple of months ago, I had just thought I was… transformed, for a really long time. Thought maybe the animal didn’t know… didn’t feel the passing of time? But I called up an old packmate after I got into a… fight, with another wolf. I’ve always been fairly in control of my emotions. But this was… different. And then, later that month, my friend tossed me into a tree while I was shifted, and I almost killed her. I pulled back, barely, but… My dad, he’s, um, a huxian? He suggested it might be magical, and then pretty much everyone else has thought the same thing. So… Tada. Here I am.” He gave a weak smile. “If you have any questions, I’ll answer them. Sorry, just… y’know, I’m not human, technically. Some folks aren’t big on that.”

“I know of shapeshifters, know they exist, but nothing really specific.” Darwin replied. The natural curiosity that had pushed him to explore the Asrani library even before his father was ready to begin his training was throbbing inside him, and it took all of Darwin's willpower not to ask Winn about a dozen questions. When he mentioned a Hunter friend, though, Darwin couldn't keep a small snort at bay. Talk about unlikely friendship. After a pause, Darwin moved his hand toward Winn's shoulder in an attempt to squeeze it to reassure him. And, well, the guy had amazing shoulders, Darwin couldn't deny it. “Don't worry. This here? Judgement-free zone. An amnesiac werewolf doesn't even score in the top five dangerous creatures that I've dealt with.” The loud whistling noise let Darwin know the tea was ready, and he quickly poured two cups, offering one to Winn. He took a sip from his own, squinted and then abandoned the cup on a small desk, mumbling something about needing more sugar. “Magic can erase memories. Or, rather... Make them inaccessible. Though I don't know why someone would do that to you. There's a chance they wanted to hide something else. Maybe you witnessed something a caster wanted to be kept secret. Maybe they even manipulated you and then blocked those two years out so you wouldn't be able to go after them.” Darwin started circling the room, pacing back and forth, talking more to himself than Winn. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to stare at the werewolf. “The wolf. Is it... A separate entity within you? Does it have wishes and urges that are different from yours? Is 'it' even the right pronoun? What I mean is... Are we dealing with one or two minds, here?”

The squeeze to Winn’s shoulder was comforting, if slightly too long. He resisted the urge to waggle his eyebrows, knowing that him being serious was the most important thing here, not flirting to ease tension. “Maybe sometime I’ll ask you ‘bout that list, man.” Winn sipped the tea after a moment, wincing at the bitter taste. Hm… Okay, so. Darwin hadn’t been lyin’, that was crap. Rather than be rude, he let it cool down. It would be water soon enough. There were theories, but Winn, not unkindly, didn’t want to hear them without knowin’ the truth. Darwin could deal with the magic; Winn would deal with whatever was waitin’ for him after he broke through. Winn gave the question some thought. “I… I mean, it’s me, right? I am the wolf, the wolf is me. It’s…” Winn sighed. No judgment, Darwin had said. “It was easier, when the wolf had blood on its claws, to act like it was… separate from me, in some ways. After a while, it became a habit.” He picked up the tea again, took a sip, made the same exact face. It’s not like his memory had been great before he’d had them taken from him. “But… I don’t know, when I’m transformed, even on the bad nights — near the Moon. I remember everything. I have since the end of that first year or so. Average, from what they tell me, for Bitten. When I almost attacked Blanche?” Winn gave a thoughtful hum. “It was… almost like an instinct, one that overrode my senses and consciousness. I… a defense mechanism? Could that be somethin’? I mean, I know for… humans, their minds can develop responses to trauma that can’t really be… explained, with a simple answer. So, maybe it’s just… my mind tryin’ to protect itself? Maybe there’s somethin’ down there that I shouldn’t touch? I don’t have any answers… well, except the original one, I guess. No. The wolf isn’t different, or, uh, isn’t supposed to be. Just a turn of speech.”

“Oh, it's a fascinating list, one better enjoyed in front of dinner.” The invitation in Darwin's words wasn't subtle at all, but he didn't push any further than that: they were having a Serious Conversation™ . “Defense mechanism, mh. Makes sense. You know earlier, when I asked you if you'd explored different venues before turning to magic? That's what I meant. Trauma can block memories, and that's as mundane as it gets, something I couldn't help with no matter how deep I dug. But from what you're saying...” Darwin hesitated, not sure how to phrase things. He'd never really discussed the nature of werewolves with anyone, let alone with an actual werewolf, so he wasn't sure what would cross the hypothetical line of werewolf etiquette. After a few moments, he decided he'd deal with this not unlike a medic: clinically, detached. But damn if he wasn't curious. “Well, from what you're saying, you normally remember what you do in wolf form, even if you can't always control it. So either what you've blocked is bigger and worse than any other stuff you remember, or there's something else at play.” There was only one way to know for certain, but Darwin wasn't sure how to bring it up: 'Hey, can I look inside your mind?' wasn't exactly a first meeting offer. Then again, it had been Winn seeking him out, so... “There's a spell I can do. It would allow me to take a peek under the hood, so to speak, catch a glimpse of what's going on in that head of yours. But I have to be honest: it's a one way show, I'll see some shallow thoughts, but you won't be able to see inside my head. It might feel... invasive, I suppose. But it's the quickest way I can get an idea of what's going on and at least narrow it down. On the bright side, it would only take a couple of minutes. And, ah... to even the score, I'll answer truthfully any one single question you may have about me. And, of course, any questions you might have about the process.”

Unlike his tryst with Jimmy, Darwin’s invitation didn’t make Winn feel quite so… gross. He was happy to flirt, but… well, after. Regardless of what Noah and he decided to do, bein’ charming was, well, part of his charm. “That sums it up,” Winn said, popping the p. Even for a werewolf, there were things Winn could comfortably say he didn’t know much about — subspecies that he’d only heard about in whispered rumors, whatever hybrid monsters Adam had spoken about. But this was different. “It gets… harder to control, near the Full Moon, yeah. And on,” the three days of, “the Full Moon, we transform. Bam, the legends are true. Some of them.” He laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Let’s do it,” he said, immediately. Winn wasn’t one to wait, even if — when — waiting was the best option. When he saw somethin’, he needed to go and handle it. His memory had been weighin’ on him for too damn long, and he wanted to know. Curiosity, though typically noted of cats, called Winn to think hard about the question he’d ask Darwin, too. “Man, I’d have questions, if I knew what questions to even have. Um, will it… hurt? I guess? It doesn’t matter, I’ll take the pain, just… preparing myself, y’know. Werewolves and gettin’ hurt don’t always go great together, so please… I know you said I wasn’t dangerous, but I can be. So, I don’t know, maybe have a sleepin’ spell in your back pocket, in case you need to Sleeping Beauty me. If that’s a thing.” It had to be a thing, right?

“Wow, I give you a free pass at any personal info, and you don't go for my digits straight away? That tea must have been really bad. That, or I've lost my charm.” Darwin joked, adding a playful wink to the end of it for good measure. It seemed like Winn was more at ease whenever he assumed a less formal tone, so Darwin switched his posture to a more casual one. Yet, no matter how relaxed he wanted to keep it, he realized what Winn was saying was a real concern. Being trapped in a basement with a bloodthirsty monster was not something Darwin wanted to try any time soon. Sleeping spells existed, of course, but to check Winn's head he'd have to get close to him, so close that he wouldn't be able to even utter abracadabra before being ripped to shreds if the werewolf decided to appear. How quick did the change happen, anyway? Darwin shook his head to chase those distracting questions away, and looked at Winn, this time serious. “It will only hurt if you push me away.” The times he'd seen the ritual performed, when his father had done it to some unwilling rivals to steal their secrets, it had looked mighty uncomfortable at best and hellishly painful at worst. But Darwin himself had also done it with friends and lovers alike, using it to get closer to each other when words just wouldn't cut it. “This sort of spell can either feel invasive, or... Well, intimate, but that's up to you. It's why I offered you a question: trust will make it easier, on both of us.”

“Ah,” Winn said, an easy laugh coming out of his mouth. “I’m… goin’ on a first date with this guy, Saturday. I tried to… burn off some tension, if y’catch my drift, and it was a little weird. Given you’re about to poke around in my head, I feel like I should just come clean… If he and I had DTR’d or were open or whatever? Well, I know an easy way to help us both relax. That said, you could always steal a kiss away. Door’s open, Darwin.” He let that hang in the air for a moment, giving the man time to consider the offer. Sex? Definitely off the table, not even a little bit alright. But… one kiss? That wasn’t that bad of an idea. “So, ‘m not gonna be sorry if you see some colorful details in there, dude. You’re stacked and I have eyes.” He winked. “‘Sides, I’m fine with intimate. I’m tryin’ this new thing where I just tell folks shit that they might want to know. I won’t push you away. Hell, get as close as you need.” Winn thought through Darwin’s ask a little more carefully. It seemed, almost, like askin’ something would make the other man more comfortable. And, hell, he’d been thinkin’ a lot on the subject lately, so there was… one question that occurred to him. Winn was just the brand of shameless to ask. “What’s it like for you, when you fall in love?” he said before he could stop himself, though he quickly followed it up with, “I know you said… anything, but if that’s too, uh, personal, I get it. Really, I do. I can always get your number.” He smiled, this one a little more real, and left himself open to Darwin’s best… or worst.

Darwin seriously considered the offer: Winn was extremely attractive, and one way or another he was about to be inside him anyway. The way he licked his lips made it abundantly clear that the temptation was there, but ultimately Darwin shook his head, albeit a little reluctantly. “I'm not the sort to steal kisses, Winn. No way to enjoy the build up and the aftermath of a kiss if it's stolen and tinted with guilt. More importantly, I'm not a home-wrecker. Or, well, an opportunity-killer, if things aren't that serious. You seem pretty into this guy, and I'm not gonna jeopardize that.” Again, a wink, followed by a low chuckle. “That said, if come Saturday you two have defined things and the door's still open, I'll let you have my number anyway.” Winn's eagerness to share was refreshing; the people that usually came to Darwin were secretive at best, with far too many things to hide for Darwin's taste. Hell, Darwin himself had his fair share of secrets, but he only kept those because he knew they'd scare most people off, not because he really wanted to keep them hidden. What Winn asked, though? That wasn't scary, and Darwin let out a relieved sigh when he heard the question. “Not too personal at all. Could've asked way worse shit. But it is a... Difficult question. I could wax some poetry, feed you some lines like 'it just feels right', but truth is... I don't know.” With his father keeping such a close eye on him, Darwin had never gotten the chance to grow close enough to someone to fall, he'd barely had the time for the casual one night stands he'd somehow managed to keep a secret from his legacy-obsessed family. And once he'd finally left them, he'd been too busy moving from place to place, following demons summoned by the Asrani and fixing their mess. Wow. Up until that particular moment, Darwin hadn't really thought about how much his family had taken from him. “Never been in love, I don't think. Been in lust, had some intense friendships, but love? Never had the chance. I can only assume it feels... like home. Not my home, mind you, my home was a mess, but like... a not fucked up home. One that accepts all of you, one where you feel comfortable and safe and can be simply yourself and walk around in your boxers, one that smells like your favorite food and... Sorry, I guess I am waxing poetry now. What can I say, I'm a romantic at heart.” They were getting off topic, but it had been a while since Darwin had just had a pleasant chat with someone, one that wasn't necessarily about dark pacts, obscure rituals and potential apocalypses. Again, refreshing. “Why that question? Of all the questions you could have asked, you went for the love one right after sort of” another wink, the last in what felt like a long series for such a brief meeting “turning me down. Sending some mixed signals here, buddy.” Before Winn could have the chance to answer, Darwin placed a finger on his lips to silence him. “Actually… Perhaps you should answer that after Saturday, mh? After all, you did turn me down. I’m guessing that date is related to the question, and we don’t want you focused on all these confusing emotions right before I dive into your head. Besides, I’d like to talk more, get to know you. Platonically, I mean. Haven’t had the chance to meet many friends here, so… Let’s not burn all the steps with the deep personal love stuff just yet, mh?”

Leaning forward, Winn settled in for Darwin’s explanation. He couldn’t find it in himself to be… disappointed, per se, but Darwin’s decision to stay out of his and Noah’s dance — or, well, Twister game — only confirmed that Winn could trust this man, even if the man had a story, a past, and plenty of secrets. If he wasn’t relaxed before, the last coil of anxiety had been taken from his gut. When Darwin explained, Winn couldn’t help but smile a bit. The honesty was nice; Darwin reminded him almost of Rio in that way. Romantic at heart, a big apologetic for when he rambled, but ultimately kinder than… well, what White Crest could turn people into, if they let it. When Darwin’s finger left Winn’s lips, he nodded. “I’d like that, too,” he said, after a moment. “But,” he clapped his hands together, “leeeeet’s do this. Spread me open, bro.” Wow. Talk about an innuendo. There was an energy to this interaction, and Winn wasn’t sure if it was the magic coursing through, what, Darwin’s veins? Or if it was simply the chemistry of two future friends. Either way, Winn was diggin’ it. Felt better than wiggin’ about his memories. “How do you want me?”

Darwin tried to keep a straight face. Seriously, he gave it his best shot, he bit his tongue and winced at the pain of that. But in the end, he just couldn't keep it in, and his loud, baritone laughter echoed in the basement. “That was... so bad,” he finally let out with a gasp, shaking his head. “I've used some terrible pick up lines, but you've got me beaten.” Again, he patted Winn's shoulder, this time the relaxed gesture of two buddies sharing a good laugh and nothing more. Well, almost nothing more, the guy still had incredible shoulders, and Darwin's hand lingered there. He used the contact to cop a feel, sure, but also to lead Winn toward the desk where his tea had been abandoned. With his leg, he pushed the chair, to give Winn room to sit, and then he gently pushed the man on it. “At the cost of being just as cheesy as you've been, I'll need you to relax, it'll make it easier. I'm also going to look like one of those evil hypnotists you see on TV, but no pocket watch or swirling spirals. Just some intense eye contact as I try to establish a... a connection with your mind.” As he spoke he lowered his voice to a soft whisper, and put both his hands on Winn's temples, tilting his head slightly so he could look in his eyes. “Just focus on my breathing, and try to match it. Slow and easy. Take me in as you inhale, let your worries out as you exhale. Like meditating, but we're doing it together.” For a moment he wondered if his sandalwood cologne would smell chemical to a werewolf this close, and if he could sense Darwin's natural scent, but instead of dwelling on that — more questions for their potential friendly outing — he started gathering his energy. He didn't need words for this particular ritual but he kept murmuring, to give Winn something to follow as Darwin visualized his own conscience enveloping his hands. He couldn't see auras, but he liked to think his right now would look like a bright ball of energy surrounding Winn's head, warm and almost electrical as his essence moved around, gentle, tentative almost, looking for an opening, hoping Winn (more importantly, his wolf instincts) would feel safe enough to make his job easier.

Even if it had been an accidental joke, Winn still was happy to hear Darwin laugh, even slightly at his expense. “Only terrible,” he said, with another friendly wink, “if it’s never worked.” He allowed Darwin to put one of his big, warm hands on Winn’s shoulder — and, hm, okay, heel boy — and guide him to sit. Darwin was close, and he was right, this was intimate. Winn could think of partners whose face he hadn’t gotten this close to. Winn snorted at the joke, but tried his best to relax. In, out. Darwin smelled like cologne, sandalwood one of the few scents that Winn enjoyed, but if Winn inhaled deeper, and he did, he could smell something… like a burning, almost, but it was faint. Underneath, though, Darwin’s scent reminded him of… Ricky’s, almost. Saltwater and the outdoors, someone perpetually destined to be a wanderer. Unlike the mountain scents that Winn associated with pack, this one was, admittedly, a little strange to him. Not… bad, but strange. In, out. Darwin’s hands on his head buzzed, almost, and it wasn’t painful, not quite, but the feeling was… too much, almost. His mind had only ever had Winn in it, that he’d remembered, but. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. His eyes, though open, lulled to a half-closed state, his gaze lost in Darwin’s dark ones. There was so much on Winn’s mind, at all times, but here, like this, the cores rose up to meet Darwin. Winn wouldn’t describe it, except that his mind was… light. Noah, his friends, his newfound purpose, all lived there, linked together and shining out from Winn. Without thinking, his lips slid into a smile. Inhale. Exhale. The light, though, cast… a shadow. And within that shadow, concealed from vision, was a hole. The shadow, his mistakes, his anxieties, the ways in which he’d failed, time and time again, to make things right. And, if Winn followed Darwin’s energy, he could almost feel the absence in his mind. It hurt, more than he could describe, but it wasn’t… physical. It was grief, loss, unnamed things and unremembered things. And then, Winn’s eyes glassed over, as Darwin looked into what his mind refused to see.

Winn's mind was not what Darwin would have expected when looking into what people often described as a savage beast. While the spell was too superficial to really put faces to the soft feelings swirling inside Winn's head, it was clear that those bonds meant a great deal to the man sitting in front of him. That was the mind of a protector, not a monster. Like demons, perhaps werewolves were misunderstood, and people should focus more on their deep sense of family and pack rather than their fangs and claws. Then again, this might just be Winn, not a werewolf thing. Darwin had learned long enough not to generalize when it came to these things. Feeling Winn grow more comfortable with what they were doing, he dove deeper, moving past the superficial thoughts, those that were either so ingrained in Winn's core or so fresh that the man had no trouble remembering them on his own. The painful memories, the doubts and fears weren't unexpected; everyone had dark corners in their mind, and Darwin did his best to move past those as quick as he could, to let the man have as much privacy as he could give him. But what he sensed next... Darwin's spell was meant to let him reach within for things he'd lost, things that might have been locked away. And once he'd found those cages, he'd just open them and return the memories to Winn. Simple, clean. Except there were no cages. What he saw was... a void. Like a puzzle missing a few pieces. Darwin paused, so baffled that Winn would probably be able to sense it through their temporary connection. Winn's memories weren't trapped, they weren't hidden under a hazy fog, or lost in an endless sea. They were just... a blank space. Darwin moved his thumbs' on Winn's temples, trying to soothe him as best he could as he lingered in his head, searching for something that wasn't there. Perhaps it was the fact he was dealing with a wolf, but the longer he spent looking, the more he felt like a dog chasing a ball that'd never been thrown. He spent minutes hunting, each moment everlasting, but no matter how much he tried... Nothing. Finally Darwin gave up, and he slowly pulled back, his hands releasing Winn's face as the last remnants of his conscience left him. He gave Winn a few moments to recover before opening his mouth to speak. And then he closed it again, not sure how to break the news to him. The silence, coupled with the grim expression on Darwin's face, spoke volumes, and when he finally made a sound it was tentative, guilty almost. “How are you?”

The fuzz from Darwin’s temporary confusion stung at Winn’s temples, almost like brain freeze, and he felt himself wince even if he was practiced enough at weathering pain to not break the connection. In, out. He bit into his lip, so hard he was half-sure it was bleeding. Darwin spent more time in his head, looking for what he wasn’t sure. Winn trusted the spellcaster — or, trusted that Winston trusted the spellcaster — and knew that, if he could just wait, just be patient, then Darwin would ever be able to put his fractured mind back together. But, the longer Darwin looked, the more Winn began to sense that… that maybe his mind wasn’t fractured, so much as missing something. That hole, the one hidden beneath the shadows, was that… was that an actual hole and not just a place where things were hiding in wait? He felt a spike of anxiety run through him as Darwin pulled away, and Winn searched his face. When the silence didn’t break, when Darwin’s mouth just kept opening, shutting, and the look grew even more grave, Winn started to ask… and found he couldn’t. How are you? Well, panicking, if Winn was going to be honest. He took a few breaths, trying to calm himself down, but he knew the signs of an anxiety attack like the back of his hand. Winn hadn’t had one in years, had grown to an expert at managing them between therapy and becoming a counselor-in-training himself. But something about this one was different, and Winn felt himself burying his face in his hands, blocking out the light, blocking out Darwin’s pained expression. There was a part of him that wanted Darwin to touch him, to reach out and say something. And then there was the part, equally as strong, that was sure that would make him lash out at someone who didn’t deserve it. And so Winn took shuddering breaths as he tried to wrap his head around what he sensed was true. Finally, a whisper, “... They’re not there.” It wasn’t a question.

Darwin could only watch in silence as emotions danced on Winn’s face, and he felt like some sick peeping tom, even more so than when he’d been inside his mind. He watched as doubt turned to fear and then into terrible certainty, and he felt powerless to help Winn. The selfish part of him was glad at least that the werewolf seemed to have grasped the situation, it kept Darwin from struggling with how to break the news to him. As things stood now, there was nothing his magic could do for Winn: nothing to release, nothing to fix. Maybe, maybe Darwin could help if only Winn had a vague hint about where the memories had gone. Who’d taken them. But this whole situation was obviously something Winn didn’t fully understand, and Darwin assumed if he’d had some vague suspicion he’d have shared it with him. Darwin could maybe tell him that, should the memories be found, it would be possible to put them back where they belonged, but right then, staring at Winn’s chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down, Darwin didn’t have it in him to offer his new acquaintance (possible friend?) any false hope. So, after a long, endless pause, he just lowered his head and sighed. His hand moved once again to Winn’s shoulder, this time not to feel the muscles there, but just to offer a small anchor in this moment where the rug had been pulled from under his feet. He opened his other arm in a silent invite, and simply whispered… “No. No, they’re not.”

[crowstan]

How I see each house due to my friends

A side note before I begin: I can Not spell, so you will see me using different words throughout this, instead of my usual speaking words that I Can pronounce, so apologies for that lmao. The order of each section will be: ravenclaw, slytherin, hufflepuff, gryffindor, and outliers. The outliers get their own category because I refuse to put them with the rest of the data, you’ll see why.

Ravenclaw:

The people:

Leave her johnny, leave her: A good friend, we talk about stuff sometimes. Usually it’s her talking about legend of Zelda. I quite like her.

A pal: From India. Their English isn’t the best, but I can still understand them. Likes to talk about Disney movies and how Elsa deserves a girlfriend, and has called Disney a coward many times because they most likely won’t give her one.

Great British Bake off: From Brittan. Where, I have no clue. Likes to talk about how the law and justice system needs to be changed, and about her family sometimes, usually when prompted. I have no idea what she’s talking about half the time because I’m American, and that sometimes leads to funny misunderstandings.

Done with school: We haven’t talked a lot, but lives in the same state as me. Is completely done with their schoolmates, their school, the teachers, and with life. Often jokes about wanting to become a 7/11 crypt.

Wholesome: We talked for a while, and then somehow our conversation got deleted and I haven’t been able to find them since. Really like astronomy, and told me cool facts about the horoscopes, galaxies, and even a bit about stars. I miss them :,(

In conclusion: Ravenclaws most likely have a passionate topic they know a lot about, and are eagerly willing to share every bit of knowledge they have to teach you about it. They may even ramble about the topic for no reason and without prompting. They also really like learning for the sake of learning, and usually despise school because it “ruins learning” (source: me, Leave her johnny leave her, Great British Bake off, Done with school). Can sometimes lack common sense and “smarts” in some subjects, but excel in others. Also usually lgbt+ or a huge supporter of lgbt+ rights, and other rights movements such as black lives matter. I generally vibe with them very well.

Slytherin:

The people:

Bestie in the form of three ounces of whoop-ass: My best friend! We talk about psychology, mental health, psychological disorders, the apocalypse, and religion quite a bit. Some defining traits she has is: willing to fight for the smaller/weaker person, has good morals, is a chaotic neutral, a moral grey character, loves bloody anime and vocaloid.

Laid back: No offense to him, but he’s not the brightest. Can be snarky at times, but is usually more willing to let others do the talking and observe. Also may possibly be a people pleaser but I haven’t done much looking into that. Tbh I’m kinda scared of him.

Quakeing: Has adhd. Can sometimes be a dick, but it’s usually not intentional. Is actually pretty good at debate, not sure if she knows it. Is almost the perfect human version “Yes, BUT-”  and “So?”

In conclusion: Mostly crackheads. Are also good friends. Some are trustworthy, some are not, just always be cautious.

Hufflepuff:

The people:

Owo?: Very soft. Doensnt really like conflict that much. Will fight you if you’re mean to yourself. Has talked me out of doing various... “Experiments”, especially the kind involving people in any way or involving scissors. Would not let me try to make an airplane out of playing cards. She does encourage my writing, and sometimes likes it. Is very positive.

In conclusion: A mom friend that won’t let me do anything I consider “fun”. Often passive, but cares about their friends, and won’t let them do anything that could result in even a potential scratch. Very nice to be around, hufflepuffs have calm vibes. They simply radiate calm. I have not met one that didn’t, tbh.

The people:

I call them K because I can’t spell their name right and at this point I’m too afraid to ask: Likes to be in charge. We don’t talk much, but they do have some dumbass/crakhead energy from what I can tell. May be a facade. Can be a little hot headed but mostly isn’t, haven’t seen them get too mad. Yet.

In conclusion: Somehow the only gryffindor I’ve met? I don’t know enough of these people to make any actual claims, because it could be a gryffindor thing or a personal thing, and I have no way of telling.

Outliers:

Furry: Hufflepuff. Excluded because they took too long to reply. Also a dumbass. Isn’t into harry potter but says that from what she was told, hufflepuff is the windclan of hogwarts. I have no idea what that means.

An ex long gone: Slytherclaw like me. Didn’t want to put him on the list twice, plus he fucked up all my data. Claimed that he hates anyone who lies, proceeded to lie to me, and then claimed he was doing the right thing. I only cut him off recently. he also frequently talked down to me like I was a dumb child. I did enjoy his company but in hindsight I really shouldn’t have had. Added him because he’s the only person that has the same 50/50 house mix as me.

The shape of friend: I think their house is hufflepuff? They wear a lot of hufflepuff merch, and are really sweet and loyal. Honestly, a good person, too pure. I really like them, even if we don’t talk a lot. Also somewhat shy. Didn’t add because I’m not actually sure of their house, and I didn’t want any of the sections to be inaccurate.

Is this even human?: An online friend. Doesn’t like to stick to one house, prefers to switch houses based off of mood and what they’re doing at the moment. Shouldn’t even be on this list but I thought I should add them anyway. Can barely function as a human, forgets to eat sometimes, has spent a full day and a half sleeping. Honestly, a whole ass mood.

Final thoughts: Most of my friends fit their stereotypes, and have a few bits in common that I, ultimately, associate with each house. This is in no way accurate to each house, as I can sometimes perceive things wrong (Example: this semester in science, in which I thought I understood earths plate movement, only to fail my test because apparently, what I had gathered was incorrect, even though it was what was taught). Anyway, this was quite fun to put together, and I quite enjoyed being able to do this.

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 6.4

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time in chapter 6’s investigation, one of Shuichi’s flashbacks contained fake memories of real people and was therefore genuinely inspiring for once, Tsumugi rather tellingly pointed us to a ridiculous red herring about Kaede’s twin instead of anything actually helpful, Himiko was being just a little bit Kaito to compensate for how useless she feels in this investigation, and the hidden room contained a bunch of clues about the real mastermind’s identity and the truth of Kaede’s case.

Now, we’re headed to the Flashback Light classroom.

This very heavy rubble in the way which requires all 4 Friendship Power to move happens to be the shelves of music CDs and the entire piano from Kaede’s lab, which is through the wall to the left. It’s kind of neat how they thought about what rooms the rubble would have come from and made it match, even if this sadly means that Kaede’s lab is totally ruined now.

We can see the full moon outside the hole in the wall of this classroom. We could also see the full moon outside of Kaede’s lab during that scene where Shuichi was mourning her… and that was weeks ago, but only something like two weeks, not four. Yep, that’s a projection, isn’t it. (Or probably just a developer oversight. After all, you’d think Kaito or Gonta or anyone at all would have noticed, hey, the moon’s been full for over a week now, something’s up with that.)

The Flashback Light setup computer has all kinds of tantalising options available that it’d be fun to look through… but unfortunately Shuichi’s inner monologue funnels you into picking only the options you’re meant to pick, and you can’t see anything else. Boo, game designers, not writing optional text for this; it would have been interesting! Buuuut it would have been a lot of branches of text for something entirely optional, so fair enough.

-      The survivors on a different planet

-      Other survivors in the Ark

-      There are no survivors

Note how there’s no option for them to remember that actually there were some survivors on Earth and it wasn’t quite as devastating as they’d been led to believe. So apparently the memory of the apocalypse really did involve them remembering that literally everyone on Earth must be dead, with such certainty that future memories weren’t allowed to contradict that. Meaning no possibility of an audience, not even a small one. Meaning that, once Kokichi saw the Flashback Light in the Virtual World containing the memory of this apocalypse, he had to have known Flashback Lights were fake, if he hadn’t already figured that out when he saw the outside world in the first place.

Shuichi:  (And these categories… there are several inconsistencies about the survivors. Do I… have to select the correct one?)

Come on, Shuichi, you must know that doesn’t make any sense. You’re going to be quizzed about this thing you don’t remember, and you have to get it right before you’re allowed to remember it! That seems incredibly silly and unnecessary. The real implication of this should be immediately obvious.

Adjusting to match other memories.

Haha, yeah, that’s also not a thing that real memories should need to do. Though it’s neat that the computer has a built-in system to keep track of everything that’s already been decided as the “truth” for them and make everything else consistent with it. That could cause issues otherwise.

Shuichi:  “… Is there more than one truth…?”

There is something beyond the “truth”, just like Kaito knew you could reach, Shuichi!

Himiko suddenly shows up, despite having been trapped behind rubble in the hidden room last time.

Himiko:  “Be happier that I survived! I was able to make a spectacular escape from that sealed room!”

Yes, the Amazing Himiko’s Spectacular Sealed Room Escape Act, never performed before and improvised on the spot!

Himiko:  “Nyeh? You don’t understand how I escaped from there?”

Shuichi:  “…No?”

Himiko:  “Hmhmhm, I see… you don’t get it… You don’t know how I escaped… Then I shall tell you! I escaped from that sealed room with my magic!”

I love how gleeful she is about having done something he can’t figure out even though it wasn’t a prepared and practiced magic trick. She’s finally got something that she can claim really was her using her magic, rather than having to constantly make excuses about why she can’t use it!

With a bit of prodding, Shuichi convinces her to actually tell him.

Himiko:  “G-Got it. I’ll tell you… I definitely used my magic, but another thing that helped me escape that sealed room… was the girls bathroom on the 1st floor of the school building.”

It’s okay, Himiko, that still used your magic. Finding secret passageways is definitely something mages are good at (and obviously not because they use hidden passageways a lot in their acts), right? Like, with some kind of Detect Hidden Things spell? Totally.

Himiko:  “Nyeeeh!? That’s a Flashback Light!”

Shuichi:  “Y-Yes, but we shouldn’t use it…”

Heh. Shuichi has finally started to realise that maybe they shouldn’t really have been using any Flashback Lights at all this whole time.

Shuichi:  “… This is an emergency. Nothing I can do about that. Ah, now’s not the time to be thinking about boys and girls bathrooms… Alright, I’ll do it.” (I repeated several excuses in my mind as I stepped into the girls bathroom.)

This kind of (perfectly understandable and gentlemanly) mindset is why Shuichi didn’t find this hidden passageway in chapter 1 and save everyone except possibly Rantaro. Kyoko had no such qualms, but she was a very different kind of detective than him.

Himiko:  “Geez… Caught up on past killing games… That’s typical of a Remnant of Despair.”

It’s also even more typical of a Danganronpa fan.

Motherkuma:  “I can’t birth Monokumas unless the designated person specifically says the word ‘birth’…”

One might wonder why Motherkuma was set up so that he even needed to be given an order from the mastermind to be able to make another Monokuma and couldn’t just make them on his own, but it does make sense if you think about it. Monokuma is a psychopathic AI programmed to cause suffering for entertainment – they’d want to have failsafes in place in case he decided to go rogue and carry out that purpose of his on some “real” people beyond what he was meant to do. So they limited the physical power he had, first by having the Exisals only able to be controlled by the relatively harmless Monokubs and not Monokuma himself, and then also by making it so that Motherkuma can only clone Monokumas when the mastermind deems it necessary and not just on his own whims. That way there’s no risk of a sudden Monokuma robot uprising because he’s decided it’ll make good entertainment.

Himiko:  “Even I, the wise and powerful Himiko, panicked a little bit when I saw I was trapped in here.”

I really like this new Himiko who’s trying to put up a bit of a façade of false confidence, even if it’s obvious to everyone else that it’s a façade. It’s so Kaito of her!

And the more I think about it, the more I realise that Himiko never really did this kind of thing before this chapter. She was pushing herself to act positive, but not showing overblown confidence in her ability like this. Which makes it all the more likely that she is deliberately trying to imitate Kaito in his honour, and that’s adorable.

Himiko:  “W-Well? Was I… useful?”

Of course you were, Himiko! This hidden passageway you just found is a vital clue!

But Shuichi just kind of brushes her off at first and doesn’t tell her that. This is unfortunately not the first time he’s been so in detective-tunnel-vision that he’s been unintentionally dismissive towards his friend who really wants to know that they’re being helpful to him.

Himiko:  “…”

Shuichi:  “Hm? Something wrong?”

Himiko:  “J-Just tell it to me straight… like a man.”

Himiko’s even correctly invoking Kaito’s concept of manliness! Don’t beat around the bush, just be open and honest about how you feel about things! Even if the truth is that she wasn’t useful, Shuichi should just come out and say it instead of trying to hide it.

Himiko:  “I-I want to be useful for my friends. But I can’t help much in investigations, can I? I couldn’t find the mastermind…”

She’s also doing a little bit better at actually applying that manliness herself than Kaito was when he was having similar issues, because Kaito never directly admitted to how badly he wanted to be useful and how useless he was feeling.

Shuichi:  “Himiko, not only were you *useful*, you may have cracked the case wide open.”

Himiko:  “Really!? If I found such an amazing clue, that’s proof I’m no ordinary person! Hiii hee hee hee! I’m terrified of my own magical power!”

This is so adorably like the kind of immediate bouncing back that Kaito would have done if Shuichi had ever told him something like this. All in a day’s work for the Luminary of the Stars! Himiko being like this too is lovely.

Kaito’s continued insistence on presenting himself like a hero when he no longer truly felt like one and when everyone else was sure he was still sick was essentially him showing them a fiction in the hopes of inspiring them and keeping their spirits up. Himiko’s constant commitment to her act even when she’s not on stage and even when everyone’s perfectly aware it’s not real magic really is a lot like Kaito in some ways. Her doing her best to fill Kaito’s shoes like this is going to be a great help for boosting Shuichi and Maki’s mood once the three of them are living outside and trying to cope with all this. And the fact that Himiko has her own issues that she’ll need help with too outside of this fiction she presents isn’t going to dampen that, despite what Kaito thought on that front. Kaito was afraid his fiction was only a lie, that everyone believed it was true and it’d stop working on them if they knew it wasn’t, but that was never the case.

While Shuichi and Maki’s talents are necessary for their arcs and for the overall plot, it might seem like an arbitrary choice for the third survivor to be a magician, and that Himiko’s talent really could have been anything else. But I think this was still probably chosen on purpose, because Himiko presents fictions that are meant to cheer people up and make them smile, and that’s wonderfully relevant to the overall theme.

Maki:  “What… were you doing? Why were you in the girls bathroom?”

It’s pretty awkward writing that Maki has this immediate scandalised reaction to this. She’s supposed to have lost the instinctive sense for gendered bathroom taboos, based on the time she casually offered to check on Kaito in the bathroom without realising it’d be the boys’. Also, like, come on, Maki knows Shuichi, she’d know he’d never do that unless there was a reason that was actually important and relevant to the case. Danganronpa writing, please stop shoving this annoying talk of pervertnedness into everything, it’s chapter 6, now is especially not the time.

Anyway, Maki has the photo of Rantaro.

Shuichi:  (With this… I can fight. I can fight the mastermind behind this killing game. …And I believe I can end it all.)

Look at Shuichi believing in himself! He’s got so much more genuine confidence now than he ever used to, without anyone else needing to encourage him to feel that way! Kaito would be so proud of him. And it’s thanks to Kaito that Shuichi’s come this far.

Shuichi:  “Monokuma… you’re the one who calls these class trials… But not this time! This time, *we* choose to call a class trial! One to end them all!”

He’s become such a protagonist and such a hero! Look how far he’s come! Kaito would be so proud of him! Of course, Kaito already saw Shuichi as this much of a hero in the first place, but now Shuichi’s really started to realise and embody that image Kaito had of him, so that everyone can see him the way Kaito did!

Monokuma:  “And I think it’s pretty interesting that you guys are on board with holding a class trial. In fact, I welcome your initiative! This turn of events will make things very interesting!”

Unfortunately… that’s still exactly what the gamemakers wanted Shuichi to do. This was the plan for him all along. (That’s even exactly why they killed Kaito.)

To keep the stakes high, Monokuma threatens to kill them all if they can’t expose the truth and provide an interesting class trial, and he asks if everyone else has as much resolve as Shuichi does.

Maki:  “I’ll trust you. But if you screw this up…” [she smiles] “…I’ll kill you before Monokuma can.”

Shuichi:  “…Y-Yeah, I believe you.”

I love how this would seem on the surface to be an “I’ll be mad at you if you mess this up”, when what it really is, since Maki specialises in quick and painless deaths, is her saying, “If we fail, I won’t let Monokuma make you suffer.” Shuichi is smiling, too, because he understands that. This is the second time Maki has offered to help her friends by killing them painlessly if it becomes necessary to do that, and it’s weirdly adorable?

Himiko:  “I have friends I can trust! There’s nothing to be scared of!”

Oh, Himiko. Most of them, at least.

Shuichi:  “Our hope is going to end this game of despair!”

Shuichi, no, you’re now sounding far too much like a perfect scripted Danganronpa protagonist and not enough like your own person doing this for your own reasons that have nothing to do with that bullshit Flashback Light that brainwashed you all.

Keebo:  “Do you really think that ending awaits us? It sounds too good to be true, honestly.”

Yeah, because obviously there’s only two options here, the hope ending and the despair ending, right? That’s definitely how this works. Even without his inner voice right now, Keebo still instinctively thinks that.

Shuichi:  “That ending *is* hope for us. …And we can’t give up on hope.”

Shuichi is basically just tautologically saying “the hope ending is hope”. Come on, Shuichi, shake off that brainwashing, dammit.

What’s really going to happen in the end, though, is just an ending, a permanent one, for the whole killing game. And that really is something that they would all genuinely want to hope for.

Tsumugi:  “Keebo… let’s trust Shuichi here.”

Tsumugi also wants this class trial rather than Keebo’s continued rampage, because of course she does.

Shuichi:  “Our final battle! Our hope will defeat your despair!”

Monokuma:  “Puhuhu… puhuhuhu… Ah-hahahahaha!”

Shuichi:  “Why are you laughing…?”

Because you’re giving the audience exactly what they want, Shuichi! This isn’t supposed to be about a battle between hope and despair like it’s just good versus evil, but the audience sure wants it to be!

Tsumugi:  “I-It’ll be okay! He’s probably just bluffing!”

And Tsumugi does not want them to think too hard about why Monokuma’s so happy about all this.

Shuichi:  (But it was still much easier than I imagined it would be. …No sense worrying about that now.)

No, this is definitely something you should be worrying about, Shuichi! If Monokuma wants something to happen, it’s not a good thing! Remember last trial where you forgot until it was too late that Monokuma is always the real enemy?

Tsumugi:  “The four of us, and Keebo… By combining the marks of our friendship… we can overcome this class trial!”

These words from Tsumugi sound way more trite than anything anyone else has ever said about friendship in this game. How do you even “combine the marks” of friendship?

Finally we can walk freely without a stupid time limit. The courtyard has a few half-hearted piles of rubble here and there but is otherwise looking remarkably intact for having been the battleground of a huge robot war all night. Methinks the developers were being a bit lazy here. (But at least the training spot is okay and that is good.)

Maki:  “Up until now, we had to find the culprits among the people in our group during the class trials. That’s why we couldn’t work together even if we wanted to. But… this time, it’s different.”

Tsumugi:  “Ah, since there isn’t a culprit among us, we can work together without any doubts.”

Himiko:  “We’re all going to be working together this time… I already feel more at ease!”

Shuichi:  “…”

Shuichi already knows what’s up. He’s realised the that the clues indicate the mastermind is one of the five of them. He should be able to realise exactly who it is, too, but in the trial he doesn’t seem to have figured that out until shortly before he tells everyone. Maybe he does know, though, and just doesn’t want to admit it to himself because he still hates accusing his friends.

Keebo comes back with all his weapons removed and his antenna replaced, meaning his inner voice is back.

Keebo:  “I acted recklessly and put you all in serious danger… I’m sorry! I’m very, very sorry!”

As he should be, really. He was willing to kill all his friends, and now he’s realised that maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

Keebo:  “I was wrong to try to destroy everything just to avoid losing to despair… Even if I had followed throough, there would have been no hope or future left afterward. In which case, my actions would have merely resulted in a different despair altogether.”

Yeah, that’s exactly what he would have done, and at least he finally realises this. The narrative is not doing a great job of hinting that Keebo’s inner voice is effectively mind-controlling him, because he’s being more rational and making more sense now that he’s mind-controlled again than he did when he wasn’t.

Granted, as it turns out, searching for the truth and holding this class trial is exactly the kind of thing the audience wants, and maybe it would have been better for everyone to just be randomly killed by Keebo’s rampage and give the audience a boring ending that might end Danganronpa for good. But since Keebo doesn’t know anything about the audience or what they want, then as far as he knew while he was doing it, his rampage was completely illogical and wouldn’t have achieved anything worthwhile.

Keebo:  “But… will you allow me to fight alongside you!? I want to help you find the truth! Please!”

Shuichi:  “Of course, Keebo. That’s what I’ve wanted from the start.”

Maki:  “If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have been able to do all this.”

Sure would have been nice if Keebo had realised that he could use his weapons to help them find the truth earlier. You know, like in chapter 4 when four more people were alive and could have also potentially been saved.

Tsumugi:  “…”

Keebo:  “Oh… You seem angry, Tsumugi. Would you prefer I not help…?”

Tsumugi:  “I’m not mad… I’m just holding myself back.”

Tsumugi goes on to explain that she’s just “holding herself back” from making what sounds like some kind of reference to something that would ruin the mood. This moment would otherwise maybe seem like a hint that she’s the mastermind and is angry at what Keebo just did, but then that bit just makes it awkward because apparently she isn’t actually angry at all? Unless she made that excuse to try and cover up her genuine anger, but you’d think her acting skills would have prevented her from even showing it in the first place.

There’s also the fact that, although she definitely was mad at Keebo going off-script, she’d have been most angry about that while it was happening, and would just be relieved now that he’s got his inner voice back and is acting like he’s supposed to again.

Maki is still carrying the Bugvac, so Keebo offers to look at it with the zoom function he’s installed on himself. This is something that Kokichi also could have asked Keebo to do while he was alive. It’s possible, as I mentioned before, that Kokichi didn’t realise the Bugvac was finished until after trial 4, at which point it’d be basically impossible for him to ask Keebo for help… but it’s also entirely possible that it just didn’t even occur to Kokichi that Keebo could help here, because lol he’s just a thing he’s not a person it’s not like he could ever help with anything at all.

Keebo:  “Because I’m a robot, I can evolve in ways that are simply not possible for a human. I’ve… finally accepted that. There are notable differences between us, but they’re nothing to be ashamed of. Because… with my talent, it’s possible that I can save you all.”

This is the most half-assed attempt at making it seem like Keebo has actually had a character arc here. There was no kind of build-up to this at all. The change that made him decide to put on all his weapons was his inner voice being gone and had nothing to do with character growth, so now that his inner voice is back, he should be back to how he was before, which was apparently not wanting anything sci-fi at all.

…I say apparently, because whenever Keebo did happen to make use of his other functions like his recording function and his flashlight, he was always quite proud of himself and happy to be making himself useful in ways nobody else could. And yet he also kept saying that he didn’t want to be sci-fi and adamantly refused to install far more useful functions until now, which seems rather contradictory. I suppose you could handwave that the previous functions are too basic for him to consider them “sci-fi” and be averse to them? But even then, his speech right here implies that it’s less about what counts as “sci-fi” and more simply being able to do things that set him apart from humans that (supposedly) made him uncomfortable.

The writers, and I mean the out-universe ones here, really just did the absolute laziest job at what should be a vital piece of character work to justify why this killing game didn’t end in chapter 4 like it really should have. At least they did a pretty good job of justifying all of Kokichi’s terrible decisions that were vital to the plot having them be fairly plausibly linked to all of his issues, but man, they barely even tried with Keebo.

Clearly the Nanokumas need to be bear-shaped and just holding tiny little cameras, right. It couldn’t possibly be more efficient to just have their entire bodies be cameras with wings.

They talk about how these tiny cameras prove that Kokichi was right to use the Electrobomb in his plan.

Tsumugi:  “Umm… the more I learn, the more I wish that Kokichi had just worked with us normally.”

Yup. That sure would have been fucking helpful of him, wouldn’t it!? And that’s definitely not exactly why you wrote him to be the kind of person who’d never be that helpful and would never want to trust or work together with anyone, not at all.

Tsumugi:  “Gonta discovered it, Kokichi made a design, Miu built the device… It was because of all of them that Keebo was able to find the final clue. It’s almost like… everyone is cheering us on.”

Yeah, because Kokichi and Miu totally cared about helping us with this Bugvac, that’s definitely why they, you know, let us know they’d made it and didn’t just leave it for Maki to discover by chance through a lot of tedious effort, right.

Maki:  “Relax. If we end up failing, and it comes time for me to kill you… I’ll make sure to end your life swiftly, so you won’t have to suffer.”

Shuichi:  “…Th-Thank you?”

Aww! Though I’m sure Shuichi already knew that that was what she meant when she “threatened” to kill him earlier and she didn’t actually need to clarify. I also love Shuichi’s awkward thanks – he does appreciate the gesture, but this is an odd thing to be thanking anyone for.

Shuichi:  (There’s no point in worrying anymore. Right now… we only need to think about getting out of here alive.)

Ahahaha. They’re still blissfully oblivious as to what the attempted end goal of this trial is going to end up being.

Shuichi:  (I’m sure… this is the end of despair. And the beginning of hope.)

noooo Shuichi stop it

Shuichi:  (The killing game of Hope’s Peak Academy… The killing game of Jabberwock Island… And the killing game of this Ultimate Academy. How much more until they’re satisfied?)

Yeah, definitely just these three, right? They definitely haven’t had way more than that and still aren’t at all satisfied.

Shuichi:  (This is the end of it. I’m… tired of this. We’re going to end it. We’re going to end this cruel game.)

This is very, very true, though, more than he realises right now.

I once saw an LPer observe that this final trialground looks kind of like the set for a game show? Which is quite appropriate, really.

Monokuma:  “Puhuhu, it’s not up to you or me to decide whether or not this is the end.”

Oh boy, it sure isn’t. But we’ll get to that problem (and I mean that as an out-universe problem and not just an in-universe one) in several more posts’ time.

Monokuma casually threatens to murder his cubs if they don’t help him out during the trial. (Yeah, they’re still here, in case you forgot. I’ve been sparing you from them.)

Shuichi:  “…You really are the worst.”

Monokuma:  “I’m the best at being the worst, don’tcha think so? Puhuhu… I tell ya, people can’t get enough of my crude antics!”

Yep, Monokuma knows exactly what he’s here for – to play the villain and make himself hateable in an entertaining way (not that anyone should hate him for wanting to kill the Monokubs, but, you know). This is yet another thing he and Kokichi had in common.

…And the part where Monokuma was furious at Kaito for dying his own way? He was probably kind of okay with that having happened, too, beneath it all. He’s the villain, after all. He knows that he’s really here to make you root for the good guys to beat him and feel triumphant when they do.

---

[Next post]

[almostrealdudes]

More Than Allies

Request:  Hi there! Heard you’re taking requests for Gally? 😃 If you do, maybe you could write something where the Reader joins the Gladers during the Scorch Trials (along with Brenda, they’re friends), and then when Gally comes back she catches his eye and vice versa. So they kind of subtly flirt back and forth, making the others roll their eyes, and then they get into an argument about something, and Gally kisses her “to shut her up” (but really he just wanted to) and.. yeah, the couple is born! Their first meeting can be a mildly comedic prompt “-Would you calm down? We’re allies! - Considering where your left hand is, I’d say we’re more than that.” ... I may have taken that from a movie, but it was a fun scene 😂 Anyway, what do you think? Word count: 2k

@gladerscake , I hope you like it!

You know, by the time those guys grabbed us and shoved us into their truck, there really wasn’t much to be surprised about anymore. I mean, there was, but the longer you get surprised, the less sudden it becomes, so, sitting in that truck, with some masked soldiers holding guns, the only thought I had was “great, what else?”

Brenda, who was sitting next to me, gave me a concerned look; I nodded reassuringly, my eyes saying hey, we got this far. At this point, we’ll get through anything.

As we got pushed out of the cars, it all became a big mess. Jorge jumped onto the soldiers until Brenda ran up to him to say that she’s here, everyone got pushed around, guns were pointed, names were yelled. Seeing Brenda getting grabbed again, I jerked forward, attacking one of the soldiers to let her go. I was then grabbed by another soldier. Wanting to be let go, I started screaming and hitting him on his arms.

“Would you calm down? We’re allies,” I heard a deep voice, muffled by a mask.

“Considering where your left hand is,” I replied ingratiatingly, stopping my hits for a moment, “I’d say we’re more than that.”

The guy’s hands quickly released me, letting me join my friends.

“What the hell do you mean ‘allies,’ who are you?” Thomas yelled, taking a defensive position.

The owner of the deep voice contemplated, looking over us all. After a few moments, which felt like hours, he proceeded and took the mask off. Wow. While my friends were questioning the guy’s presence, I found myself frozen and unable to look away. He was tall, muscular, his posture screamed ‘leader’ at me. His eyes were of a beautiful green and blue, and his gaze was piercing. Soon, it landed on me and I swear I felt a discharge of electricity go through me as our glances connected. Does love at first sight exist after the apocalypse? I wonder.

“Gally?”

“Do you guys know him or something?” Brenda asked, confused. I looked around, implying the same question.

“He was an old friend,” said Fry sadly.

There truly was a lot to unpack. Struggling to follow the storyline, I got pulled out of my thoughts as Thomas hit Gally, pinning him to the ground. I gasped, taking a step back, as Newt ran over to Thomas, pulling him away. After such a long journey, which, by the way, still wasn’t over, it felt nostalgic meeting people from the past. Even if I myself didn’t know them. Even if the meeting started from a fist connecting with a cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Thomas hissed.

“Suit yourselves. But I can get you through those walls.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options anyway,” I said. “Actually, we didn’t have any options until just now, so I don’t think we’re in any position to complain.”

Yeah, maybe I’m pushing on this a bit because I don’t want our acquaintance with Gally to be over so quickly. But I’m also speaking from a logical point of view, so all is fair.

“I don’t trust him,” Thomas told me, crossing his arms.

“Listen,” I said, turning to him, “I know I can’t judge the situation because I wasn’t there. I can’t fully relate to your feelings because I didn’t know Chuck. But I know Minho, and this is by far the closest we got to saving him. I understand your reason not to trust him. But after seeing those machine guns, I don’t think I can trust your impulse to just break in. If it was that easy, I bet these guys would’ve done it by now.”

“I like her,” Gally said, smirking. My heart successfully skipped a beat, but I managed to keep my expression. Honestly, what is wrong with me? This is the worst timing I can think of.

We ended up staying. Gally showed most of us to places to sit and left us to talk with his squad. I sighed in relief, sitting without fear to be attacked was a rarity, and I wanted to cherish it while it lasted. Brenda flopped near me, a smug smile on her face. I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

“Someone’s been checking someone out,” she teased, placing her chin on my shoulder. I waved her away.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, of course, you don’t,” she proceeded to mimic my voice, “it’s not like we have a lot of options. Please! At least try to hide it.”

“Alright, Bee. You wanna talk crushes? How’s yours going? Should I call Thomas so we can discuss it together?”

“You make a sound and I will run you over,” she whispered furiously.

“I dare you,” I hissed back. We burned each other with our eyes before bursting out laughing. When the world is ending, it’s important to joke, at least to me. That way, I feel like I’m still myself, even after all I’ve been through.

We were still laughing when I saw Gally approach us. My nerves kicked in, I cursed myself for reacting that way, and Brenda sure as hell noticed me twitch.

“You guys need equipment, right?” He asked looking at us, “come, I’ll show you.”

Brenda smirked and stood up.

“Actually, I need to go check on Jorge. Go without me.”

She walked past Gally and made some vivid winking faces, mouthing ‘go for it,’ while walking backwards. I rolled my eyes at her. Gally helped me up and we started walking. The ammunition room wasn’t far from where I was beforehand, so it took us no time to get there. I started looking around, while Gally searched for equipment pieces. My eyes made a full circle around the room and landed on his back. The scene of it made my gulp unintentionally: he had wide shoulders. His biceps were pretty huge already but became even bigger when he was bending his elbows. He changed from his t-shirt and ammunition to a grey sweater, that did his muscles great justice.

“So,” he started, “you’re also new.”

“Debatable. From my point of view, you’re the new one. “I smiled, putting my hands behind my back.

“Suppose so,” he came up to me with a protecting vest, “here, try it, see if it fits.”

I took the vest and put my head through. The progress, however, has stopped there, because I couldn’t figure out for the death of me how to close it. The were many belts and straps and my eyes scattered all over them like it was some kind of riddle. Seeing my confusion, Gally sighed and came closer, fixing the vest for me. His hands slipped to my sides, tightening the straps around my waist, caressing my arms slightly.

“Tell me, how are you still alive if you can’t put a vest on?” He asked, his eyes still focused on my torso.

“You haven’t seen me with a gun,” I said rather quietly, watching his hands. He looked at me, quirking a brow.

“Is that a threat?” He asked, amused.

“It’s a promise,” I answered, smirking.

“For someone that small, you sure are feisty.”

“I will end you before you can even spell ‘feisty.’”

“Where do you keep all this sass? There’s no way it fits inside you.”

“Are you done with the vest? Or are you measuring my capacity?”

Noticing his hands were still on my waist, Gally quickly moved them away, taking a step back from me, his cheeks slightly red. I could feel mine burning too, but was quick to calm down, fixing my vest one extra time to occupy myself.

At this point, Thomas and Newt joined us, and we were soon ready to move out. Sun was already gone at this point, and the city streets glowed in fluorescent lights and neon banners all over buildings. We mixed with the crowd, following Gally to our checkpoint.

“I should’ve at least taken a shower if I knew we’d be out in public,” I said quietly, shrinking slightly.

“Oh, someone’s squeamish?” Gally turned and threw a quick taunting glance at me.

“We just don’t really blend in, do we, ”I kept glancing around, afraid to catch suspicious looks.

“Just admit you don’t like to get your hands dirty,” Gally pressed.

“Keep asking and you will find out how I like my hands,” I teased in return.

“Gross,” Newt shook his head, looking at me with furrowed brows.

“Can we guys focus?” Thomas said, stopping the conversation.

We walked some more around the city, jumping from one busy street to another until eventually walking off to the suburbs. There was a platform that led to the place Gally wanted to show us, so we had to climb. He helped Newt up, Thomas defiantly declined and climbed by himself, receiving an eye roll from Gally. Lastly, it was my turn. Exchanging flirtatious glances with me, he launched me up. When I looked back, I saw him keeping his eyes on me as I was lifting myself up.

“See something you like?” I teased yet again.

“Yeah, it’s in the way, move already,” he whispered from below.

“So it is something you like,” I said, standing up. Thomas and Newt were just rolling their eyes at this point, not knowing how else to comment.

Back at the base, we discussed our further plans, not without disagreement, of course. After a long talk, Newt ended up yelling at Thomas and running off, making Thomas follow him. That served as a signal for the meeting to be over. As anyone left, I was the last one to exit, when Gally suddenly grabbed me by the hand, making me stay. I turned back to face him, a confused expression on my face.

“I know what was said earlier, but you are not going with us. You will stay here.”

“What?” I yanked my hand from him, “What do you mean I’m not going with you?” Yes, I am!”

“No, it’s not up for discussion.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me. Don’t argue with me on this.”

Huh? Listen, jokes are jokes, but the bottom line is – I decide where I go and with whom.”

“You don’t understand—“

“No, it’s you who don’t understand!” I raised my voice. “Stop downgrading me! I am a fighter and I can stand up for myself and for others!”

“Listen—“

“To what? To you telling me off? I’ve had enough of it already. The fact that you are imperious with your squad does not allow you to be imperious with me! I’m not under your command and I will not—“

I was silenced suddenly by Gally’s lips clashing with mine. I squeaked out of surprise, throwing my hands in the air. My surprise, however, was slowly replaced by growing desire, as I slowly closed my eyes, unable to fight the feeling. The kiss didn’t last for long, Gally soon moved away, being slightly out of breath.

“Listen,” he continued, crossing his hands, “I’m not saying this because I doubt you. I’m saying this because I don’t want people to be in unnecessary danger.”

“Well, it’s good I’m capable and won’t be in any danger at all,” I smirked.

“Fine,” Gally sighed, giving up, “but don’t come running back to me when the bad people start shooting at you.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” I came closer to him and looked him up and down. “So?”

Gally furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Should I scream some more for you to kiss me again, or will you take a hint?”

[gotmilk5101520]

Miraculous Ladybug Rewatch Episode 31 Riposte

Okay was anybody going to tell me that i’ve been spelling Riposte wrong?

“Where’s Adrien?”

“Seems like you’re looking for someone?”

“Yeah i thought Adrien was here”

“You know a boy this tall, blond, nice, super handsome”

“Thanks for compliments” She couldn’t tell it was Adrien’s voice. No wonder she can’t recognize Chat Noir’s.

*Giggles in Adrienette*

“Go on Marinette, you’re suppose to touch me”

“Hehehe. Touch you?” Totally not suggestve.

She’s here!

“Is this what fencing is all about?” Sword lessons turned sexual? Yes.

“Is that all you can do?”

Why are there books flying around?

Rip.

My god this was a good fight. Also, why haven’t anyone drawn the fight without the masks? Like really come on guys. We need some good Adrimi content.

“Crush and defeat is the ideal steel with which to forge a blade of revenge” It’s your son that defeated her. Therefore she’s going to kill him.

*Screams in Adrimi*

“What’s the point? You won. There’s no such thing as a second chance in my family” “Well about that- Wait i’m not introduced till later and i don’t get the Snake Miraculous till season 3 Plus i have a delivery to make″ “...” “...” “...” “... Bye”

Can i hug you?

“I’m giving you a second chance” “Hello? Pizza delivery for Hawky Mothy?” “It’s Hawkmoth! Why don’t you get it right!” “Cause fuck you”

“Wait Riposte is going after my son? I made a mistake. Umm Riposte how about you don’t go after him” “Forget it!” “Shall i play Despacito sir?” “Go ahead”

“Watch out Ladybug!”

Ladrien content is good content . *Screams in Ladrien*

“Where are you Chat Noir?”

“Maybe he’s busy?” “Doing what? Getting chased by an akuma while he isn’t transformed?” “Maybe?”

“I’m sure Marinette wasn’t trying to humiliate you”

“Of course not!” No one was suspicious.

*Screams in Ladrien again*

Times Adrien looked like his mom.

“Please be careful Ladybug”

“I’ll be fine, thank you. And you stay out of harms way”

*More Ladrien screams*

“Well there goes my house”

Fun fact in the French version she said “You’ve got the wrong sport, my lady” *Screams in Kaganette*

“Maybe he was feeling a little Claw-sterphobic?”

“Oh god what have i done”

Ladybug’s tail kink part 2

“Am i into girls?”

“Besides i hate to be locked up” *Cries in French*

“Bug out”

“Kiss in Ladrien*

“I’m sorry”

*Cries in Adrimi*

“Marinette can get flustered easily. But she’s kind and means well. She never cheat. Today was her first ever experience with fencing”

“You like her a lot huh?”

“Marinette? Yeah of course. She’s a very good friend” “How much of this guy’s braincell’s did i kill?”

Just want to remind you all that Adrimi is a good ship.

“So see you in the next episode, Kagami?” “Actually we won’t see till Frozer” “Oh okay. When’s Frozer?” “17 episodes from now” “But that’s too far away!” “I know that’s sad. Luka play Despacito” “On it”

Kagami is here at last, but won’t show up again for a while. I’m sad.

Oh shit it’s time for the Robot Apocalypse.

[fizzypopcake]

Just Another Arcana Fan Theory

Ever since I’ve read the last update of the Arcana game, I wasn’t really able to get my mind off of it. I’ve been pondering on it a lot since the characters and the plot is somehow inspired from bible scriptures, most especially on the book of revelations. These are just some of my speculations tho, everyone can either agree or disagree on it, or even better, discuss their own theories with me as well. I just want to talk about the 7 seals theory, a bit on the 4 horsemen and some of my conjectures on what happened.

So first off, remember how everyone in the fandom suspects the Vesuvian courtiers to resemble the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse? Welp, I’ve suspected as much too. For those who still has no idea about this, the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse came forth when the first 4 of the 7 seals were broken. I’m not going to tackle much about this since I guess there are already a lot of posts about it.

to summarize the 4 horsemen theory, it goes like this:

Quaestor Valdemar is likened to the first horseman (pestilence/infection) since they seemed to enjoy and would like to relive the times of the plague. Also note that the horseman was riding a white horse, which the main color motif of Valdemar’s clothing.

Pontifex Vulgora is likened to the second horseman (war). Vulgora’s personality often depicted their love for conflict and destruction. Vulgora’s main color motif is also red, much like the color of the horse of the 2nd horseman.

Procurator Volta is likened to the third horseman (Famine). As seen in Nadia’s route when the apprentice read Volta’s fortune, they said that Volta is always hungry, and will never fill the void no matter how much she eats. Volta’s clothing is black, like the third horse.

Praetor Vlastomil is likened to the fourth horseman (Death). Although it wasn’t quite obvious in the earlier books, but in book XI he was ultimately the one to decide death-- and obviously, he eagerly chose death upon Julian. His worms, in which he oh so loves, feed upon corpses. I’m thinking he is enticed by them because they devour death. Vlastomil’s complexion is pale, much like the color of the fourth horse.

The 7 seals theory 

Okay so now that we’re done with the 4 horseman theory, I would also like to present the 7 seals theory. On Asra’s route in book XI he revealed that on the night of Lucio’s “murder” all of them were present-- the courtiers, Nadia, Julian and Asra himself-- and were trying to cast a spell to move Lucio into another body. That’s 7 people in total and there are 7 seals. If the first 4 seals were the courtiers then the next 3 ones should be Julian, Asra and Nadia. (I might be spouting some nonsense here but its just my theory)

In old roman custom, when making a will of the dying there has to be 7 witnesses and with each of the 7 witnesses, there shall be a seal. The will shall be written in a scroll and shall be periodically sealed from time to time until the scroll will be sealed with 7 seals. So when the time for opening the scroll comes, it shall be in sections, breaking each seal after another. I’m thinking that it’s okay to refer to Roman customs seeing that the courtier’s titles (e.g. quaestor, pontifex, procurator and praetor) were used and originated in Ancient Rome.

Now, i’m guessing the 4 seals have been broken so what’s next? Well it’s most likely to be the breaking of the fifth seal. In the bible, the breaking of the fifth seal is portrayed as Tribulation, where martyrs cry out in suffering. They were saints/innocents that were slain for their testimonies/faith and shall be resurrected. Okay, okay now this is were it gets weird. What if... Julian actually gets hung in the next book?  But because of the seal, he shall be resurrected (hopefully!) It is heavily implied in all routes that Julian is actually not the one who “killed” Lucio (well at least not directly. Yes maybe he was involved but I’m betting that he isn’t the main culprit or even if he was, he’s not the only one) so maybe he really is innocent. Plus, he is very self sacrificing, like the martyrs in the book of revelations. Think about it, if Julian is slain just like the martyrs, then he too shall be resurrected, just like the martyrs. But seriously! My heart can’t take it if he actually does end up being a hanged man askdaksjdlasdg   

The next arcana card after “Justice- XI” would be “The Hanged Man- XII” which gives us an idea of what to expect next. After the hanged man card would be... Death- XIII (Oh no, I don’t like the sound of that!) Let’s hope that I’m wrong here, but I guess someone will indeed die, most likely Julian.

After the breaking of the 5th seal would be, of course, breaking of the sixth seal (The fall of celestial signs/bodies) in which involves eathquakes (like how the ground violently shook when the red beetles rose from the well during Asra and the apprentice’s investigation), a darkened sun, blood red moon  (oohh red, its hinting the ubiquity of the red beetles). Plus! Here's the catch. The tarot cards after Death- XIII will be as follows: Temperance- XIV, The Devil-XV, The Tower-XVI, The Star-XVII, The Moon-XVII, The Sun-XVIII. I dont know what lies ahead in the following chapters but I guess it definitely has something to do with the 6th seal and the celestial bodies. Feel free to discuss it with me.  I have a lot of thoughts on the sixth seal and as well as the seventh but I’ll post about it some other time hehe.

SO... one might ask, what happens after breaking the 7 seals? Well, the bible said it will be the start of the second coming. Where Christ will be in a new form and come again on Earth. Now let us compare this to the game. They were all trying to move Lucio to another form right? But in this case, the devil. My conjecture is that the spell didn’t end right because the seals didn’t work/break OR something else was up. In Book X of Asra’s route, Asra gave a comment to Lucio when his seal/symbol glowed. Lucio said to him “For someone with this, you’re high and mighty about following the rules. And look where it got you, your sweet little MC is here by your side.” Asra then answered, “Look where it got you, stuck on the incorporeal plane...” Asra was hinting that the seal had something to do with Lucio’s current form. Thus he wasn’t able to take a new form and completely transform into the devil. If we follow this line of thought, then perhaps if all of the seals are broken, then Lucio will take unto his complete new form.

Additionally, it was stated in the bible that the only one who could open and break the seals would be “the Lion of Judah” and the  "Lamb.”... Lion huh, sound like someone we know, it’s just that he was a, oh i don’t know... caged lion. Or it must just be a coincidence.

Now who is this lamb? Is it the apprentice? Welp, i still don’t know,  maybe the lamb isn’t significant in the story OR maybe it is... Anyone has an idea? The apprentice somehow has something to do with what happened to Lucio, seeing as all of those who participated have lost their memories, including the apprentice. But why the memory loss? Asra said that Julian and Nadia “chose to forget” and I bet Asra and Muriel remembered everything... but how about the apprentice? And where does Valerius fit in? I have my own theories too, but I’ll discuss them in another post since this post is getting longer than I expected haha.

Again these are just some theories and hullabaloos that have plagued my mind ever since. Feel free to add your thoughts on this~ I may or may not have articulated this properly tho haha but I tried my best to explain each point.

[crashdevlin]

Hearts Entwined-7: Paradise

Hearts Entwined Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is the only unfinished series I will be releasing today but you’ll be getting all six chapters of what I have over the course of today.

Summary: y/n is a Wiccan from the French Mistake universe who finds herself in the Supernatural universe after finishing a spell. She’s not a fan, but she quickly sees the new place for what it is; a world with real magic. But real magic comes with real consequences.

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, OMC x Reader

Word Count: 4359

Story Warnings: Smut, 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!, oral sex (fem and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bloodplay, dub-con, sex curse, free-will fuckery. Angst.

Chapter Warnings: alternate universe shenanigans, Apocalypse World shenanigans, sexy starts (but no finishes), mentions of a breeding kink

You walked into the dungeon with a plate and a cup. Lucifer eyed the slider and fries warily. "Who made that? You, or one of your boyfriends?"

You set the plate on the table and smiled. "Well, it's not rabbit food, so you know Sam didn't make it, and it's greasy, flavorful-"

"You want me to put something in my mouth that Dean Winchester's hands have been all over?"

"I do it." You said, picking a french fry off of the plate and popping it into your mouth. Lucifer obviously caught your sexual meaning because his face dipped into a deeper disgust. "Just try it. You liked the food at Biggerson's? Dean's is better."

"I highly doubt that." He said, picking up the slider and sniffing at it. "So, what do you need, Orli?"

"Who says I need something?"

"You wouldn't be in here being nice if you didn't."

You smiled. "We both know that's not true. I'd be in here and I'd be being nice, either way. Don't know how to break it to you, Dad, but your kids ended up good people, despite our genetics, and my upbringing. Maybe we get it from Grandpa."

"The only thing you got from my dad was power. You've read the Bible, you know what he's like, and that's just the stuff he let them write down! Can you imagine what that asshole was really like behind the scenes? At home, in Heaven, he was an unbelievable-"

"Let me know when you're done complaining about Chuck." You started picking at your cuticles and waited for him to calm down.

"What do you want, Orli?"

"I need to know what to expect in Apocalypse World. We're gonna go save-"

"Death." He interrupted. "Expect death, because that Michael... that Michael is not my Michael. That Michael's gonna tear you apart. Look, I don't see the point, kid. Mary Winchester's already dead."

"No, she's not. She's in that cage thing you were in. Iron Maiden-y thing." You shook your head. "I know things, but not enough. I need to know everything about that universe."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and set the burger down, stretching his hand out as far as the shackles would allow. You grasped it and Lucifer's eyes went red as his memories of the other universe flooded your head. You stood, taking a few steadying breaths as you let go of his hand. "Thanks. That's good enough for me."

"You're gonna die."

"Maybe. But I still like our odds. You've got the two most resilient hunters in history, a broken angel who's just as, if not more so, resilient and two Archangel Nephilim who're hellbent to prove their worth. Team Free Will 2.0. I'd bet on us."

"Don't take my son there! I haven't even met him, yet! Don't-" Lucifer struggled against his shackles as you walked out of the room.

"Jack will come see you when he's ready and not a moment sooner." You shouted back over your shoulder. Sam and Dean were waiting in the hallway, both checking your expression for signs of wear. "Got what we needed."

"You okay?" Sam asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. Just itchin' to get your mom home."

"Us, too."

You followed them into the library where Cas and Jack were talking.  Cas had an exasperated look on his face and he turned a silent plea to you as you walked up. "Sup?"

Jack turned to you, innocent eyes shining with confusion. "Are you and Sam trying to conceive a child?"

"I'm sorry, what?" You asked as Sam and Dean coughed to cover their laughter.

"Well, I know how I was created. My mother told me and, earlier, it seemed like you were trying to procreate with Sam."

Your jaw dropped a little as you looked at your boyfriends, who both gave an amused shake of their heads and gestured to you. "Really? You're gonna make his sister field this question?" They both just leaned against the library table and folded their arms over their chests, matching smirks on their faces. "I see how it is. Assholes."

You turned to Jack with a nod. "I got this. See, Chuck, our grandfather, he created the world to be self-sustaining, right, and he needed the human population to be self-sustaining, too, because he was planning to disappear for several millennia. He wanted humans to procreate without having to be told to. Like, you know how animals have mating cycles and they, like, go into heat or whatever? That's them being told to copulate, and Chuck didn't want that for humans. So he made the act of copulation feel amazing, that way we'd wanna copulate all the time." You paused to make sure your words were sinking in before continuing. "Humans are clever, though, and they've figured out a bunch of ways to copulate without procreating. That's what Sam and I were doing. Not trying to turn you into an uncle, yet, Jack."

Jack looked down, thoughtfully. "How do you not procreate?" He asked, curiously.

"Oh, the simplest, cheapest, most effective way is a condom. Keeps the creation materials separate from each other. But there's also hormone birth control and surgical options, like vasectomies and tubal ligation, as well as a few others like this weird foam that I've never seen anyone actually buy but someone, somewhere, must 'cause the company still makes it."

Jack blinked several times. "Oh. Okay." He nodded, then smiled.

"You got any more questions, I'm here, bro."

"Thank you." He almost bounced as he walked away.

You turned to Sam, Dean and Cas, who all looked a bit dumbfounded. "You answered that like, like Dr. Ruth." Dean stammered.

"Thank you. I... didn't know how to explain it to him." Castiel said, sheepishly.

You smiled. "It's all good. You've never been good at the whole 'sex ed' talk. You didn't even try with me. I got all my base info from Penthouse, Playboy and the local Planned Parenthood."

"Ah, yes. The three 'P's of sex." Dean said with a nod and a smirk.

"Yeah. You get your hopes up with the fantasy sold by the skin mags, then you go to the clinic to get your dose of sexual reality."

"What, we're not Penthouse-worthy?" Sam asked, smirking.

"Sex with you two doesn't count. You're Biblical heroes, which is probably the only reason you can keep up with the half-angel wonder witch. Gods know you're the only ones ever have." Sam was still smirking at you and your brow furrowed, slightly. "What?"

"You said 'yet'." Sam answered.

"Yeah, she did." Dean nodded, his own smirk on his face. "You said you're not trying to make Jack an uncle, yet."

You nodded, then shook your head as you started to walk out of the library. "Yeah, well, let's get your mother back from Apocalypse World before we start trying to make her a grandma, okay?"

Dean followed you. "Okay, well... can we go copulate without procreating, then?"

"Really, Dean?" You scoffed, turning to him in the hall outside the kitchen.

"What?"

"It's been, like, two hours since I was in with Sam."

"What, you don't wanna?" Dean asked, giving you his absolute best puppy dog eyes.

"Of course I do." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He pushed you into the wall, picking you up and hitching your legs around his waist.

He thrust his erection against your core and pulled back to look in your eyes, smiling. "Reminds me of our first time."

"Against the wall at Miralda's club? Ooh, you were in that tux." You cooed, slightly.

"And you were in that dress with no panties on." He kissed along your jaw.

"Bedroom, Dean! Jack doesn't need a visual aid to y/n's lesson!" Sam called from down the hallway.

You laughed as Dean carried you off toward his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't focused, that's what did it. As you and Jack joined hands to open the portal to Apocalypse World, your mind moved seamlessly, and of its own accord, from the memories Lucifer donated of the other universe to the memories he'd dug up of your own universe. So, when the five of you stepped through the tear in space-time, you appeared on the other side in a bright and beautiful landscape that looked nothing like what you were looking for. You gasped, realizing immediately that you'd taken everyone to the wrong place, and dropped your brother's hands. The rip closed almost instantly. "Fuck!" You spun around, helplessly, and looked at the men surrounding you. "I'm so sorry! This isn't the right universe."

Sam put a hand on your shoulder. "It's okay. We can try again."

"I'm sorry. I... You know it's gonna take a bit of..."

"We can rest here. It doesn't seem particularly dangerous." Castiel said, trying to soothe you.

"This is all my fault. I suck... I'm so sorry."

"You don't suck." Dean said, automatically, then chuckled.

"Don't." You shook your head. "I am not in a good place for sexual innuendo."

"In your endo." He responded, making you smile despite yourself. "There you go. This is fine. Where do you think we are, huh?" That last bit was directed at Cas.

"I'm not certain, but... this universe is pulsing with Heaven's grace. I believe we're safe." The angel responded.

"All right. Let's take a look at that building over there. If it's as empty as it looks, we'll set up there and try again tomorrow." Dean directed and everyone followed him to an abandoned building a few feet away.

The building was, indeed, abandoned and you watched everyone mill around for a while before walking outside to look around the immediate area. "Who are you?" A voice behind you caught your attention and you turned to the newcomer. *Naomi.* "How do you know my name?"

"I..."

"What have you found, Naomi?" An intimately familiar voice called, appearing behind Naomi.

"I don't know, sir."

Sam Winchester's multichromatic eyes fell on you, then burned red. His lips twisted into a smile. "Orli. You're home."

"Dad. You're..."

He looked down at his body, Sam's body, and ran his hands down the front of his white suit jacket. "Yes, I do look quite a bit different than you remember, don't I? It took a while to wear him down, the Winchesters are so stubborn, but I eventually got my true vessel." He looked up and smiled at you. "You've grown so much."

"It's been a few decades."

"Yes, it has, hasn't it? Where are Zachariah, Uriel and Castiel?"

You looked down. "Um... the soldiers you sent to protect me, they're... still in that other... the universe you sent us."

"They hurt you?" He asked, stepping forward, white loafers crunching against the gravel.

"No, of course not."

"Orli." He tucked his finger under your chin and forced you to look up into his eyes. He sighed and looked a little disappointed as he shook his head. "I should have known. I placed too much trust in Castiel."

"No. It's not Castiel's fault, or Zachariah's. It's just... how things ended up, okay? And I've met a much nicer Castiel in another universe and..." You looked down. It was weird to look up into Sam's eyes and see Lucifer behind them. "Sam and Dean Winchester. Both still very stubborn and..."

"y/n!" Dean called out, walking out of the building with Sam following. Dean's jaw clenched as his eyes fell on Lucifer. It must've reminded him of Zachariah's End-verse or possibly of Lucifer before Sam jumped in the pit.

"Dean!" You reach out and took Dean's hand, hoping to calm some of his rage and panic. "I've figured out where we are. I must've subconsciously wanted to see home. This is... Lucifer... my Lucifer, my dad."

"You never said 'yes'?" Lucifer asked Sam, who was understandably uncomfortable.

"He did, but... things in that universe are very complicated. Like... in their universe, you're the Michael." You answered, smiling at Sam before turning back to Lucifer who looked confused. "God gave the key to the Darkness' prison to you in their universe, so..."

"So, I was the one corrupted." Lucifer concluded.

You nodded. "That's actually fairly common across the multiverse. As far as I can tell, there are not very many universes where Michael is the corrupted one. It's usually you... which is why they're looking at you like that." You took a deep breath. "I do wonder, though... where are the humans?" You asked, looking around.

"Many died in the battle. It was unfortunate and I tried to prevent as much loss as I could, but many went home to Heaven that day." Lucifer looked a bit sad as he said it, but then he smiled. "But those who survived, they've been given paradise on Earth. I have fixed the damage my brother inspired, I've fixed all damage to my father's planet and people. There is peace and love in each and every child of this Earth. Naomi will show you. I will find you when you're settled."

Naomi turned on her heel and started to walk away as Lucifer disappeared. Dean wrapped his arm around you as you started to walk after your father's soldier. "He's wearing Sam." You whispered. "That's so awkward. That, that body-"

Dean nodded. "Well, at least we know your Uncle Mike won't be showin' up in my body anytime soon." He tried to joke, but it didn't seem honest.

"Yeah, 'cause Lucifer smote the crap out of him." Sam said, taking your hand in his. You could tell he needed it more he was willing to admit, so you squeezed his hand and gave him a smile.

"Everything'll be okay. We just gotta hang around here in... paradise for a while and then we can go save Mary like we planned." You smiled at him and kissed the back of his hand.

You stopped short when your eyes fell on a meadow filled with thousands of people, all completely nude. "Wha-"

"We have returned them to the state they were in before their banishment from the Garden. Innocent, without shame or fear." Naomi said, proudly.

"They're straight-up fucking over there." Dean whispered, pointing to a couple in the middle of the field. They weren't the only ones.

"Yes, all of their needs are met here, including their carnal ones." Naomi said, turning to you. "Now, as you are human, you must disrobe so that you will not stand out. We don't want them to ask questions."

"Um, what?" Sam said.

"Do you know who I am?" You couldn't ever remember using that sentence, but it came out, easily. "I'm Lucifer's daughter."

Naomi rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers and the three of you were suddenly nude. "Go enjoy paradise until Lucifer finds you." She directed before disappearing.

"Well, you know..." Dean looked down at you. "When in Rome." He smirked and picked you up.

"What are you doing?" You asked, shaking your head as he walked you into the meadow and dropped you to the soft grass.

"Seems as good a time as any to make our mom a grandma, right? Everyone else is doin' it." He laid himself over you and started to kiss your neck.

"Dean, I... fuck, you... I wasn't planning to... yet..." You moaned as Sam dropped down next to you and kissed you, sweetly.

"Why put it off?" Sam said, looking into your eyes. "We want you to have our babies. You want to have our babies. If we fuck you together, you won't even know which of us is the father. It'll be perfect."

You snorted and sat up. "This is not... this is not happening. We've got more important things to deal with than your... breeding kink."

"Our what?" They asked together.

"I spent too much time on tumblr when I was in Muggle-world, but if you're so keen on knocking me up, boys, we can work on that after we complete our mission." You conjured clothes and handed a pile to each of them. "I really wanted to like Naomi when she showed up with Cas on the show, 'cause I loved Stargate, but damn..."

"So, how much time did you spend interacting with the fans, 'cause-" Sam started, pulling his jeans up his legs.

"Oh, don't worry. I didn't read the wincest stuff." Their faces were a mix of shock and disgust. "And I completely avoided the destiel stuff, except... okay, I read a couple, but they were by really good writers who captured your characters really well."

"Me... and Cas?"

"Yeah. Which is super awkward since Cas is my mom, but not as awkward as that." You pointed at Lucifer walking into the meadow, people bowing at his feet as he went.

"Orli." Lucifer smiled. "What do you think of Paradise on Earth?"

"It's beautiful. But... this is all that's left? Of humanity, this is it?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But remember... Father started with just two and they multiplied like bugs, numbering in the billions before they were wiped out."

"I'm sure you didn't mean for that to sound so offensive, Dad."

"Of course not." Lucifer smiled as he sat on the grass, gesturing for you and the Winchesters to do the same. He gave you a reverent look and smiled. "You look so like your mother."

You bit the inside of your lip, trying to kill the thrill at getting a chance to find out about the woman who birthed you. "Who was she? I mean, what was she like? How did you meet her?"

"She was... no one. She was utterly unremarkable. I think she was a waitress... and I can't really tell you much about her as a person, but... she was really very excited to be your mother, Orli, just as I was very excited to be your father."

"But..." You shook your head, confused. "You can't tell me about her? You created life with her... she died to create life with you and you can't tell me anything about her?"

Sam put his hand on your shoulder as Lucifer shrugged. "I know she was very devout. She wanted to create something beautiful and she did. She created you."

"Her name? Do you, at least, know that?" You asked, trying to keep the anger and disappointment sequestered in your chest where it couldn't hurt anyone but you.

"Karen... Young, I believe her surname was. She was thirty-two when your birth blew her apart." You flinched at the callous imagery. "Don't feel sad, Orli. She knew she wouldn't survive, dear. She was happy to give her life for yours." You swallowed, heavily, and shook your head. You hadn't wanted to think about the fact that your mother had died in an explosion of Nephilim power just like Kelly Kline had, though you had known in the back of your mind that that was what happened to her.

You flew away, not wanting to deal with the way Lucifer was making you feel. You had to take time to remind yourself that even if your Lucifer was the good guy, he was an angel and they weren't notorious for being warm, fuzzy or tactful. Lucifer was a warrior, the General of Heaven's armies, and even so... better than other versions of himself.

Dean found you twenty minutes later, leaning against a tree in the middle of Paradise. "Hey. You're about as good at this Hide and Seek shit as your brother."

"Wasn't hiding." You argued. "Just... needed time."

"You need more? I could walk around a bit, pretend I haven't found you, yet." He offered.

"Is it weird that I miss your Lucifer? I mean, back home, that Lucifer... he's not wearing someone I love... and I just let what he says roll off of me... I'm expecting harsh words from him. This Lucifer, my Lucifer, he's wearing Sam and it's like he just doesn't care about what he says."

"Because he doesn't." Dean knelt down in front of you. "You've seen what the angels are like, y/n. They're dicks. All of 'em except Cas... and he's a damn pariah for being different."

"He's a pariah for a lot of reasons, mostly the angels he killed when the Leviathans were in him, makin' him crazy." Dean nodded. You sighed and stood. "Let's go. We'll grab Sam, go back to the abandoned building. I'm not really interested in my father's Paradise, anymore. I just wanna go save your mom."

"Yeah. Sounds good to me, babe." He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you walked back toward the place you'd left Sam and Lucifer.

Lucifer smiled when you approached, but Sam stood quickly, like he couldn't wait to leave. You pulled away from Dean and approached Lucifer "It was amazing to meet you, Father, but unfortunately, I... uh, I have to go. We're on a mission to save Sam and Dean's mother from what amounts to a Hell dimension, so... I'll try to come back... after." You promised.

"I understand. Whenever you're ready to take your place by my side, I'll be waiting for you, Orli."

You smiled, tightly. "I don't really think my place is by your side, Lucifer. I think... I know my place is with Sam and Dean. But I'll visit." You nodded at your father and grabbed Sam and Dean's hands, flying them back to the abandoned building, where Cas and Jack were standing around confused.

"Where have you been?" Jack asked, eyes turned down slightly.

"Meeting the parents." Dean said. "First time for everything."

"This is... where I'm from. We were happened upon by... my father. I don't want to talk about it. Can we just open a damn portal and get the fuck out of here, please?" You reached your hand out for Jack's and he let you take it without any argument. You focused hard on Apocalypse World as you opened a sliver in space and when you walked through, you were happy to see what you recognized as the world Michael had destroyed. "Okay. Anybody know where we are?" You asked as everyone else stepped through the rift and it closed behind Dean.

"Northern Kentucky... near Frankfort." Castiel answered.

You took a deep breath and flopped down on the soft grass. "I'm gonna see if I can't find an actual location for your mom. Gimme a minute while I astral outta here." You closed your eyes and pulled your consciousness from your body, following anything that seemed familiar, anything that might come from somewhere other than this horrible place. You found Mary in a church. It was exactly the church Lucifer was in. Michael's base. She was locked in a cinder block room. *Better than the iron maiden cage.*

"Not by much." A voice made you turn. Even if you hadn't seen the show, you'd recognize the archangel with the dark skin and full beard. He was pouring power and it made your heart stop. Mary turned to his voice, but didn't seem to see you. "Now, who exactly are you?"

You had to remind yourself that you were a projection, that he couldn't hurt you from where you were. "Y/n."

"Are you part of the resistance?" Mary seemed confused that he wasn't looking at her as he spoke.

"No. I'm just a curious witch who's-"

"Infiltrated my base in order to find a weakness?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Just trying to find a Winchester."

"You're here for her?" Mary straightened, slightly, as Michael spoke.

You swallowed. "She doesn't belong here, Michael. I'm just trying to get her back where she-"

"You from that same paradise?"

"No, I'm from a different paradise. One where you lost and Lucifer won."

"That's a calumny! My brother could never win!"

"Except he did. I think you'd really like it there. There's barely any humans left. They all live in this one big meadow, like an Eden on Earth. Takes just a few angels to keep them in check. Demons are gone, far as I can tell, and everything's very simple." You swallowed. "I think Lucifer's a bit bored, actually. Not that I stuck around to find out."

"You don't think I'm going to let you take her, do you?" He asked, suddenly.

"Nope." You shrugged. "But we're taking her, anyway."

"We? Who, exactly, do you have with you that you think can stand to me and my army of angels?"

You smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?" You gasped as you came back to your slumped body. "Morgantown, West Virginia. He's got her in an old, broken-down church with a million wards on it, so we can't just fly in." You stood, brushing off your butt. "He saw me. He knows we're coming."

"Great." Dean groaned.

"But, we can still do this, okay? You've got two Nephilim on your team. We're more powerful than-"

"I have faith in us." Jack said, smiling.

You smiled back and bit your lip before turning to the others. "Your mom looked okay. I think they're just holding onto her to open the gate when they get around to it... the spell from the angel tablet, it requires something from someone who's been on the other side... so..."

"Wait, you know the spell?" Sam asked.

"I've got a pretty good memory, Sam, especially when it comes to spells."

"That's not true. You couldn't even remember the words you used to bring you to our dimension." Dean argued.

"The words didn't do it, Dean, I did. My will did, and besides, I was a bit overwhelmed when Rowena was questioning me, okay? Geez. Anyway, the spell on the tablet is Blood of a Most Holy Man, Fruit from the Tree of Life, archangel Grace and something from someone who's been on the other side. The archangel grace did double duty for Michael's version, because it came from your Lucifer. Not that it matters. You've got me and Jack."

"Yeah, let's just make sure Michael doesn't get you and Jack." Cas said.

"New thing to worry about. Thanks, Cas." You licked your lips and sighed. "Okay, well. Let's get walkin'."

Supernatural Tags- @mrswhozeewhatsis @letsby @adoptdontshoppets

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #208

Don’t forget to vote on the season 7 polls!!

BTVS 7x21 End of Days

Stray thoughts

1) So this is how Faith is doing as the leader…

…and this is how Buffy is doing as the outcast Slayer…

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm I wonder who’s the boss… (maybe we should ask Abed.)

2) I don’t like seeing Faith hurt, but I do get a very sick (I admit it) satisfaction at seeing all these girls hurt and scared because they kicked Buffy out and they screwed everything up in the worst possible fashion. I know that by having Faith lead them into yet another trap the writers were trying to prove the point that what happened at the vineyard could’ve happened to anyone and that it wasn’t Buffy’s fault (Buffy will make this same point herself later on the episode.) Both Buffy and Faith were trying to do what they thought was best, yet it backfired. Shit happens yada yada yada. Yet I just can’t help but feel personally vindicated when I see Faith and the potentials fuck everything up so spectacularly.

On the other hand, not only was Buffy able to pull herself together after the group (and her friends! Her family!) kicked her out and made her feel like the worst piece of shit in the whole world, but she also managed to A) get the scythe and B) make Caleb nervous, which was a first. So yeah. #teamBuffy

3) So why exactly were the Scoobies looking for Buffy? I mean, didn’t they kick her out literally the day before? And now they’re suddenly worried about her or something? The only person who followed Buffy after they all kicked her out was Faith. Faith! Do you see how wrong/ironic that this? Do you see how painful it must’ve been for Buffy not to have NONE OF HER FRIENDS – not Xander, not Willow, not Giles, not even her own sister! – go after her to see if she was okay? To ask her where she was going or what she was going to do? The only person who showed any concern whatsoever about her was probably the only person she would’ve labeled a potential enemy. 

Damn you all, I’m still pissed off. I hate this. I hate having to feel this way about the characters I’ve loved for seven seasons in the FINAL EPISODES OF THE SHOW. It just feels so wrong, but I can’t help but HATE THEM. What the hell was this fucking writing choice? I hate it. I hate everything about it.

4) If I have to say something in favor of Kennedy is this, when shit hit the fan, she was the only one who wasn’t screaming like a moron and who was actually trying to fight off the Turok-Han. So yeah. The girl got spunk.

5) But she’s nothing compared to our designated BAMF.

6) No one is kicking Buffy out now, HUH? HUH???????????????????

7)

Yes. Yes, you did.

8) And this is exactly why they shouldn’t have kicked her out or “rebelled” against her or whatever the fuck they thought they were doing.

BUFFY You guys, it was a trap. It's not her fault. That could've just as easily happened to me.

9) While I do appreciate the pun and the side glances between Buffy and Willow…

I still feel it’s very wrong they’re all just talking and Giles is playing around with the scythe as if the last time they’d been together they HADN’T HUMILIATED BUFFY AND KICKED HER OUT OF HER OWN FUCKING HOUSE???? LIKE SERIOUSLY??? In Willow’s own words, you're not gonna jokey-rhyme your way out of this one.

Like, I know the apocalypse takes precedence, but maybe say “sorry for kicking you out” and “thank you for saving us AGAIN”.

10)

11) Again, I get the same feeling with Xander. Like, did they all suddenly forget they had left Buffy alone and kicked her out of her own house? Xander is all like, “I don’t need you to protect me just because I lost an eye” but literally a day before he was telling her it was HER fault he’d lost it, and using that as a justification not only for removing her from her role as a leader but also TO KICK HER OUT OF HER OWN HOUSE. And now it’s just like nothing ever happened? How is that possible? How is literally no one apologizing to Buffy? And not only is he not apologizing, but Buffy is telling him that he’s her heart and the reason she’s still alive, which okay, it’s all kind of true, but he’s also the guy WHO BLAMED YOU FOR LOSING HIS EYE AND WHO KICKED YOU OUT OF YOUR OWN HOUSE THE DAY BEFORE?!

I didn’t know that End of Days could make me as angry as Empty Places but here I am.

We’re 14 minutes into the episode and still, no one has apologized to Buffy and they’re all pretending like they didn’t turn their backs on her and it’s pissing me off. I hate feeling this way in the episode prior to the series finale. This is not how a fan should be feeling right before the show ends!

12) Not only do I know what a glottal stop is but I’ve also learned how to pronounce it. Or at least I was able to pronounce it a few years ago. 

13) And hence the fate of Miss Kitty Fantastico was finally revealed…

DAWN Xander, my crossbow is not out here. I told you, I don't leave crossbows around all willy-nilly. Not since that time with Miss Kitty Fantastico.

If you must hate Dawn, it should only be for this.

14) Did anyone really believe Xander would hurt Dawn?

15) What was the point of this scene…?

…I mean, other than to give us Nathan Fillion’s orgasm face?

16) And this is the difference between Buffy and the rest… just remember how everyone reacted and treated Buffy after the vineyard, and see how she acts here after literally the same happened with Faith in charge…

FAITH What do you want me to say? I blew it.

BUFFY You didn't blow it.

FAITH Tell that to—

BUFFY People die. You lead them into battle, they're gonna die. It doesn't matter how ready you are or how smart you are. War is about death. Needless, stupid death.

She’s understanding and reassuring, she’s not pointing fingers or kicking people out. And that’s why she’s a hero and the rest are a fucking bunch of morons. I’m sorry, I’m still so angry about Empty Places and this episode is not making things any better.

17) But I do love when my two slayers see eye to eye…

FAITH So, here's the laugh riot. My whole life I've been a loner.(…) No ties, no buddies, no relationships that lasted longer than... (…) Me, by myself all the time. I'm looking at you, everything you have, and, I don't know, jealous. Then there I am. Everybody's looking to me, trusting me to lead them, and I've never felt so alone in my entire life.

BUFFY Yeah.

FAITH And that's you every day, isn't it?

BUFFY I love my friends. I'm very grateful for them. But that's the price. Being a slayer.

FAITH There's only supposed to be one. Maybe that's why you and I can never get along. We're not supposed to exist together.

BUFFY Also, you went evil and were killing people.

FAITH Good point. Also a factor.

BUFFY But you're right. I mean, I... I guess everyone's alone. But being a slayer? There's a burden we can't share.

FAITH And no one else can feel it. Thank God we're hot chicks with superpowers.

BUFFY Takes the edge off.

FAITH Comforting.

BUFFY Mm-hmm.

This is something that had been a long time coming. Since day one, Faith had envied Buffy. Just like Buffy saw in Faith her road not taken, Faith saw in Buffy the life she could’ve had but didn’t. She envied it and she wanted it for herself. She literally tried to steal it away several times. So if she couldn’t have it, if it wasn’t meant for her, then she could take Buffy away from it, drive her to the dark side, where she lived. Every attempt was futile, even stealing Buffy’s body and literally taking her life. It only made her feel more undeserving, more inadequate, more unworthy. But every time she’d taken a shot at being the leader, it was by playing tricks, by taking what it wasn’t rightfully hers. This time around, she had somehow earned it. There was no foul play on her part. Others made the decision for her and gave her the role she’d craved for so long. And she finally understood that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Yes, Buffy did have friends and people who looked up to her and cared about her. But when push comes to shove, when tough calls must be made, the Slayer is always alone. The weight of the world is only on her shoulders, and she can’t share the burden. It took four seasons but Faith finally got it. And she could finally let go of all the envy and jealousy.

18) I just love the fact that for the first time Buffy is the one who opens up to Spike. She’s always been the one who pretends there’s nothing between them and who skirts around her feelings and dismisses his. But not this time. And for me, it was enough that she acknowledged that it meant something, even if they – and we – don’t know exactly what that was.

BUFFY You're a dope.

SPIKE I'm a what?

BUFFY You're a dope. And a bonehead. And you're shirty.

SPIKE Have you gone completely carrot-top?

BUFFY Do you see this? This may actually help me fight my war. This might be the key to everything. And the reason I'm holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night. Look, I am tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals. You know, I have Faith for that. Let's just get to the truth here, OK? I don't know how you felt about last night, but I will not—

SPIKE Terrified.

BUFFY Of what?

SPIKE Last night was... God, I'm such a jerk. I can't do this.

BUFFY Spike...

SPIKE It was the best night of my life. If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that, 'cause I couldn't bear it. It may not mean that much to you, but—

BUFFY I just told you it did.

SPIKE Yeah... I hear you say it, but... I've lived for soddin' ever, Buffy. I've done everything. Done things with you I can't spell, but... I've never... been close... to anyone. Least of all, you. 'Til last night. All I did was... hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life. So, yeah... I'm... terrified.

BUFFY You don't have to be.

SPIKE Were you there with me?

BUFFY I was.

SPIKE What does that mean?

BUFFY I don't know. Does it have to mean something?

SPIKE No. Not right now.

19) Update: 29 minutes in and I’m still waiting for someone to apologize to Buffy.

20) Am I the only who thinks this speech is okay but like, the writers were trying too hard to give Anya her “Anya Speech Moment” of the season and it kind of feels a bit, I don’t know, forced?

ANYA Well...I guess I was...kinda new to bein' around humans before. But now I've... seen a lot more, gotten to know people... seen what they're capable of, and... I guess I just realized...how amazingly screwed-up they all are. I mean really, really screwed-up in a monumental fashion. And they have no purpose that unites them, so they just drift around, blundering through life until they die...which they...they know is coming, yet every single one of them is surprised when it happens to them. They're incapable of thinking about what they want beyond the moment. They kill each other, which is clearly insane. And yet, here's the thing. When it's something that really matters, they fight. I mean, they're lame morons for fighting, but they do. They never... never quit. So I guess I will keep fighting, too.

21) #priorities

22) And in another episode of Plots Totally Pulled Out of the Writer’s Ass… (a.k.a. Joss Whedon Tries to Rectify the Fact that He Wrote a Bunch of Men Violating the Original Slayer by Putting a Demon Inside of Her and Thus Utterly Destroyed the Whole Slayerness Equals Feminism Theme)

WOMAN We forged it in secrecy and kept it hidden from the Shadow Men, who...

BUFFY Yeah. Met those guys. Didn't really care too much for 'em.

WOMAN Ahh, yes. Then you know. And they became the watchers. And the watchers watched the slayers. But we were watching them.

BUFFY Oh! So you're like... what are you?

WOMAN Guardians. Women who want to help and protect you. We forged this centuries ago, halfway around the world.

Okay, I get it, I get what you were trying to do, but it was so fucking obvious, it was so transparent. Like, I know most of the so-called metaphors in this show were not so subtle (think the fucking monster-penis in Doublemeat Palace, for instance.) But the feminist struggle in the slayer vs the council struggle was always something that I personally enjoyed. And this is how Joss’s brand of “feminism” began to crumble down, in my opinion. This is what a white dude who is a self-proclaimed feminist believes to be a Good feminist storyline, but it’s so clichéd and self-evident it's almost cringe-worthy. Like, you get a bunch of Evil Men quite literally raping a Poor Woman, who is faked Empowered (her powers were lent to her by the Evil Men and the source of her powers is Evil, Demonic in nature because  duh! she is a Woman)  so that they can Manipulate her and Use her for the benefit of the Patriarchy. But oh wait! This is a Feminist Show! So in spite of what the Evil Men who were supposedly the Powerful ones did, there always were These Great and Powerful Women behind it all, the True Guardians of the Slayer, This has been a Matriarchy all along, you see?! PLOT TWIST!

Yawn.

The worst part? I can imagine all the writers patting themselves on the back for writing such a groundbreaking and Feminist storyline and for sticking it to the Men.

23) And btw, just to show you how big a Feminist Show this is, we get this…

I guess since this is a Feminist Show and Angel is the hero here and Buffy the damsel in distress, that makes Angel a woman, right?

But hey, at least he (or she?) literally let Buffy deliver the lethal blow…

24) And yes, this totally makes sense!

because Angel has not claimed to be in love with Cordelia and Buffy has not just had her more honest heart-toheart with Spike. Let’s just disregard whatever arcs have been developed in both shows in order to deliver a Ship Moment for the Bangel fans, right? Who cares about character development, right? Because I’m positive this is what former lovers do after not seeing each other in over a year, being currently emotionally unavailable, and facing the greatest evil of all. Suck face.

25) Update: minute 42 and I’m STILL waiting for someone to apologize to Buffy.

26) Sorry for the bitter rant! 

27)  If you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

[warlockwriter]

To Lose Thee Were To Lose Myself

Chapter 1/10

Pairing: Gabriel/Sam

Word Count: 1815

Summary:  Sam didn't believe the "new man" speech from Gabriel, but he understood recovery and knew sometimes you just had to put on a brave face. He still struggled with his own recovery journey. Perhaps the two of them could help each other? And gank a few monsters along the way?

A/N:  Begins right after 13x20 and goes canon divergent from there. Title from Paradise Lost by John Milton. Many thanks to @archangelgabriellives for the beta read and a couple of awesome suggestions/additions! Also, my first mood board! Story is complete. I’m just trying the serial approach because I’ve never done it with a fanfic before.

Ao3 Link

Sam had always wanted to try falconry. When he was about 10, he'd seen a special about it on TV. Dean had been out hustling pool--or he'd hoped his brother had only been hustling pool--so Sam had been able to turn off the TV, lie back on the smelly, scratchy motel bedspread, close his eyes and imagine kinship with a bird of prey. The way his bird would perch on his wrist, turning its head at the slightest sound. An untamed predator that would stay with him only until something better came along.

It was only years later that he'd realize the appropriateness of that youthful fantasy.

***

Sam climbed into the Impala, trying to keep his thoughts to himself. He knew Gabriel was only putting on a brave face. And he knew that Gabriel knew that he knew. When exactly had the Winchesters adopted another angel? Was it just now? Or had it been much earlier, when Gabriel had, however briefly, joined them in averting the Apocalypse?

"Sam, call Cas and let him know we've found his brother," Dean said as he drove.

Sam pulled out his phone, but before making the call, he turned to shoot a questioning look at Gabriel.

The archangel shrugged as if it made absolutely no difference to him. Sam didn't believe that any more than he'd believed the "new man" speech, but if Gabriel wasn't going to say anything, he'd make the call.

Cas picked up almost immediately, not even letting Sam speak. "I think there was something wrong with Rowena's spell. There's no sign of my brother here in Amarillo."

"That's because he's with us," Sam said. "And hello to you to, Cas."

He heard a quiet snicker from the back seat, and it relieved him.

Dean shot Sam an amused look, obviously appreciating the snark from his brother.

A pause on the end of the line. "Hello, Sam. Did you say my brother is with you?"

"Hey, baby bro!" Gabriel called from the back seat. Sam pointed the phone to the rear of the car. "Get back here. This bro band doesn't work with only three."

Sam put the phone back to his ear. "That answer it for you, Cas?"

"Yes, Sam. Are you heading back to the bunker?"

"Yeah, we need to get some sleep, and we'll head back in the morning."

"I will see you at the bunker, then. If I start now, I'll be there in about eight hours."

"Okay, see you sometime tomorrow." Sam disconnected.

They drove back to the motel in silence, but it was a mostly comfortable silence.

When they pulled in and parked, Sam got out of the car. He needed to walk for a bit and work through some stuff. As he headed off across the parking lot, Dean called, "Where you off to, Sam?"

The tall hunter waved back vaguely. "Just need to walk for a bit. I'll be back soon."

"Okay," Dean called back.

That was the nice thing about how long they'd been together. There was no need to explain. I need some space was understood to be a thing, and both brothers honored it.

He got to the street, turned left, because, hey, what difference did it make? It wasn't like he had anyplace in particular he had to be. After about a block, he realized he wasn't alone.

"Gabe?"

The angel sped up to walk by Sam's side. "Hope you don't mind. A walk seemed like a good idea. I won't talk if you just want to think."

Sam shook his head. "No, it's fine." Oddly, while he hadn't wanted to talk earlier, with Gabriel here, maybe he did.

He still wasn't quite sure what had him on edge, but there was one thing he'd been wanting to say. "Look, I'm sorry about the handcuffs. I shouldn't have let my brother do that."

Gabriel was walking close enough that Sam felt the shudder go through his small frame. "Yeah. You shouldn't have." His voice sounded more resigned than angry.

"I'll talk to him when I get back. It doesn't excuse it, but he's been on edge what with Mom and Jack. He's not always that big of a dick."

Gabriel shrugged. "Don't put yourself out for my sake."

Again, it was resignation, not anger.

"Hey, Gabe. That's not what it's about. You joined up with us." He waved back in the direction of the motel. "You called it the 'bro band,' and you're right. You're one of us now. As long as you want."

"Doubt your brother will go along with that."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "No, let him get his head a bit more out of his ass, and he'll be fine. These days he just hates sending Cas off by himself."

That generated a bit of interest in Gabriel. "They doing it yet?"

Sam found himself laughing at that. "Not exactly. Don't know how much you know about the Winchester Saga, but Cas died...again...earlier this year. When he came back, Dean apparently decided enough was enough. He kissed Cas, finally kissed him, and, well, I guess they're seeing where it goes. I don't think it's gone all the way yet. There isn't enough soundproofing in the Bunker for me to miss that seminal event."

His wording surprised a chuckle out of the archangel. "Pun not intended?"

"Oh, it was intended."

They continued walking, the mood between them more comfortable now.

After a few minutes, Sam asked, "Can I talk to you about something?"

Gabriel gave him a raised eyebrow. "Guess it depends on the topic."

Sam heard the message clearly. No asking Gabriel anything else about what had happened to him with Asmodeus or about his capture by Loki. Too bad. Sam saw tons of holes in the angel's story, and he would like some of them filled. But he totally got that there were times and places for that.

"It's kind of about me."

Nodding, Gabriel said, "All right. Go."

"Don't know how much you know about what happened after you faked your death with Lucifer. Kudos on that, by the way. I'm glad you didn't die."

"Me too. Uh, as to what I know, that's kind of broad. Care to narrow that a bit?"

Sam took a deep breath. He wanted to talk about this, and it was still hard. "Do you know how we got Lucifer back into the Cage?"

Gabriel nodded. "Oh, that. It happened after I got sold, but I know about it because Asmodeus went on about it a couple of times. Assuming he didn't get it wrong, you said yes and then took Luci’s arrogant ass down into the Cage with you. Nice move. My brother deserved it. You didn't, though."

So he did know that much. That made it a bit easier.

Gabriel continued, "And if you're asking if I know what my big-bag-of-dicks brother did to you while you were down there, yeah, I kind of do. It was in your eyes when you were taking care of me back at the Bunker. Thanks again for that."

Sam nodded. "You're welcome. Sorry for hitting you up to join the team before you were ready."

"You're worried about your mom. Oh, and the world maybe ending again. I get that. But I'm guessing that wasn't what you wanted to talk about."

"No. It's about the Cage. I think you might understand what I went through more than most."

"You mean pain, humiliation, degradation and utter helplessness?" Gabriel's face looked like he had bitten into something sour tasting. "Yeah, I know a bit about that."

"So where do I go from here? I mean, it's been years now, and some days it's still like yesterday. Cas helped some--I doubt you know that part, but I don't want to go into it now."

Gabriel nodded his acceptance of that.

"I feel like I should be over it, but I'm not. Not even close."

Gabriel made a kind of humming noise before saying, "Okay. So, do you think you need to be over it or do other people think that? Like, is Dean telling you, 'Sammy, you oughta be past this by now?'"

Sam wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a hint of and if he is, I'll smite him in the archangel's words.

To head off that line of thought, Sam hastily said, "No, it's not coming from anyone. It's me. I mean, it's been years now. Shouldn't I be past it?"

Gabriel moved his hand in a maybe yes, maybe no motion. "Depends. I'm probably the only angel who might even have a chance of answering this. In my Trickster days I saw a lot of traumatized people, and sometimes, out of curiosity, I went back to see what happened later to the victims of the people I meted out justice to."

"What happened to them? Did you learn anything?" While on the one hand, Sam wasn't entirely comfortable with the reminder of Gabriel's vengeful Trickster days, he couldn't deny that it might give him some insight into his own situation.

"Most of them turned out mostly okay in the end, but what I learned was that the one truth about recovery is that there is no one truth about recovery."

Oh?

Oh!

Sam got it. "So, you're saying there's no set timeline for this."

Gabriel made a shooting motion with one hand. "Bingo. That's exactly what I'm saying. Plus, recovery isn't linear. Come on, Sam, surely you've read about stages of grief and how no one goes through them in a straight line."

Of course Sam had. He'd read lots of books on recovery. He just couldn't see how they applied to him.

Gabriel must have read something in his face because he said, "Of course it all applies to you, Sam. Just because you're a Winchester doesn't make you different from the rest of humanity." The archangel placed a gentle hand on Sam's arm as he spoke.

Sam thought about what he'd said for a minute. "Thank you. I think that actually helps. Obviously, I need to rethink some stuff."

"Glad to have helped."

Sam put his own hand over Gabriel's in a friendly, thank you sort of way. He felt something moving under his hand. Not actual movement, but sort of a spiritual movement? As if that even made sense. Then he thought he got it.

"Hey. You're not kidding about the tank being low. I can kind of feel your grace under your skin, and it's really sluggish." Then his thoughts caught up with his mouth. "And why can I feel your grace anyway?"

Gabriel whipped his hand off of Sam's arm, and after a moment of embarrassed stuttering, turned and fled down the street at a dead run.

Sam watched him go with a look of quiet disbelief. What had he said?

TBC

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