#if michael went through a portal and not even down the hole?!

[lovecolibri]

It's the 50th episode celebration balloon picture with no Tyler in sight for me...

[starscribes]

Find the Word Tag Game

Out here catching up with two Find the Word Tag Games from @card-queen so this post will be a tad longer!

I'm tagging @card-queen back and also tagging anyone else who wants to play, say I tagged you so I can know to tag you in the future and have more people to play with! Your words are: Image, Imagine, and Intrigue

Snippets under the cut! Somehow, I found none of these words in my current WIP, so I'll have to fix that, but on the bright side I get a chance to share a glimpse into my other projects!

Star from The Peculiar Adventures of Michael Mallory

Michael joined Andrew at his station as the holoscreen showed an image of the transport pod leaving the ship. Once the transport was out of range Michael turned his face up to Andrew. “I have you on a game card,” Michael grinned, “Actually I have two of you. One that I play the Star Trading game with and the other in a laminated folder, to keep it safe, a lot of my cards got things spilled on them and shorted out the power. But not yours.”

Spike from Otherworld

Now that Maxine could see it properly, she was even more terrified. It was dark out, but the sun was beginning to rise and her vision was back to normal. It was a vaguely humanoid-shaped hole in the world. Just a mass of blackness, the edges of it were tiny spikes, which seemed to move up and down and around one another. Its head was shaped like a triangle, the point balanced on its body and connected by a neck, one of the points acting as the chin. Its arms and legs ended in a mass of sharp, black claws and it stood on its hind legs.

Spare from Otherworld

“It used to be that all the castles were the same,” Emogen continued lightly as they walked through the maze of armor. “But of course, each Great Prophet has put their own personal touches on each one. Take my father Semias, he fills the spare rooms of the Castle of Murias with the hungry every night.”

Despite from Otherworld

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Maxine called after C.J., she still hadn’t caught up with him despite how fast she was walking.  “The portals may appear at my mother’s command, however, there is no sure way to know where exactly one will place you on the other side,” C.J. explained.  “So that’s a no,” Maxine decoded.

Inspire from The Peculiar Adventures of Michael Mallory

As Nick went back over his story of how he escaped an attacking group of pirates and fled safely away on The Stove - an old favorite of Michael’s which he had heard at least five times - Michael imagined how glorious it would be if he were to grow up and be a captain of a team of space explorers like his brother. Shrouded by his thick black bangs, Michael’s chocolate-colored eyes gleamed with imagination and dreams of that bright future. He could see himself in Nick’s spot, retelling his wonderful adventures to his brothers and sisters who were yet to be born, painting a masterful picture of words just like Nick did and inspiring them to achieve their own dreams like he had.

Stride from God of Smoke

They wore those strange clothes, they had strange tools, they talked to one another so casually and didn’t act at all like angels were supposed to. And they didn’t know the guardian language? What kind of angels were these? Ky’tus seemed to notice too and he looked up cautiously when they didn’t respond in the right language. The older man licked his lips but smiled and used both hands to gesture towards the site. He seemed to take all these surprises with such stride. Em’het wondered how he could be so calm. 

Peek from Otherworld

It took most of the day for the three of them to make it to the City of Finias. However, the city was clearly seen once the forest began to thin out and the sun brightened. There was a low, thick mountain in their path. It was quite a strange sight, it looked like something had cut the mountain at the middle because the top of the mountain was entirely flat. And upon that mountain top was a city. Or Maxine assumed it was a city, she could see the towers of what must have been a castle peeking above the tall white walls that served as a perimeter. 

[starrywolf101]

Sure, we could say that Tommy is physically normal after revival,

But that's no fun.

So, how about this:

People weren't made to been revived. Bringing the dead back has consequences.

When Tommy came back, he wasn't the same, and I'm not just talking about trauma.

His body is much more fragile, and is more zombie-like than human. He has phantom pains now, and any recent wounds rot really fast. Healing potions hurt him and potions of harming heal him. He's truly undead in every way except mentally. Being revived has more or less shoved his spirit back into a corpse.

This is another reason why he's afraid of pain, because witnessing his body rot away adds onto the trauma.

Scars litter his body, both old and new.

Even with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Puffy's support, he retreats into his head and dirt shack. He refuses to leave the space, terrified of everything.

But... when he meets Michael, something protective takes hold. Here is a child free of the traumas he and others have faced. Not only that, but Michael looks at Tommy and doesn't run and hide. He loves his big brother Tommy.

Tubbo and Ranboo watched the progress that Tommy has made since meeting their son. They've watched Tommy hide away from everything, afraid of even being touched, to going on walks with Michael and running around with the kid. With Michael, Tommy allows physical contact. He gives the kid piggy back rides, he reads out loud while Michael sits in his lap, and they've even napped together, with Michael curled into Tommy's body.

Sometimes, even if he doesn't get hurt, his scars rot away when not taken care of for a period of time. Tubbo has taken to treating Tommy when this happens, and even makes the boy do check-ups. Michael loves to help, playing doctor with Tommy. He's not disgusted by the rot like others are, and maybe that has something to do with them both being zombies of sort.

Even if Tommy is still scared of the world, he makes progress everyday. His support system are there for him.

And then something bad happens.

It was just a picnic with the four of them, and Michael had wondered off. Tommy left to look while Tubbo and Ranboo relax. None of them were particularly worried. Next thing they know, there's an explosion and loud squeals of fear. The two of them race towards the distressed sounds, only to find a creeper hole and a curled up figure at the bottom. Tommy was unconscious, injured, and curled around Michael. Luckily Michael didn't have a scratch on him, but thats because Tommy took the hit.

Tubbo, who always caries potions of harming for both his undead son and best friend, is quick to tend to Tommy while Ranboo calms their distressed child. While most of the burns and rot heals, Tommy took a lot of damage to his head— more specifically, his right eye. Tubbo would've gagged if he wasn't already used to gruesome injuries. He's learned to numb himself as a child soldier.

Tommy remains unconscious for a few days, and he stays at Tubbo's home in Snowchester. Michael sits by his bed, worried for his uncle. Tubbo assures the piglin child that Tommy was strong and would be up in no time.

The first thing Tommy sees when he wakes up is Tubbo, as Michael was long asleep after he'd been promised that Tommy would be looked after.

"Tubso...?"

Happy that his best friend was awake, Tubbo had pulled Tommy into a hug, though it was gentler than the normal bone-crushing embraces. "You scared us! What were you thinking!?"

Returning the hug as best as he could, Tommy answered: "I saw the creeper and acted, Big Man. What kind of big brother would I be if Michael got hurt?"

Apparantly, they weren't quiet enough, because both are alerted to the sound of small hoof-steps. Smiling, Tommy invites the kid into the bed, who immediately snorts happily and curls up into his side. And in that moment, Tubbo wants to cry tears of joy— he saw the way Tommy looked down at his son, and was reminded of how Wilbur used to look at Tommy and Fundy. Just the sheer amount of love... and Tommy wasn't even aware of his own expression.

When Tommy catches Tubbo's staring, he rolls his eyes and scoots himself and Michael over. "Get in here already, Big Man. Its late and I'm exhausted." With no further invitation needed, Tubbo climbs in and presses against Tommy's other side. That's how Ranboo found them in the morning (he took pictures so that none of them would ever forget.)

A few days after that, they take the bandages off Tommy's head and reveal his eye— just a socket now. Trying to make the best of the situation, Tommy cracks a smile and looks at Michael: "Looks like we're matching, Big M,"

Surprisingly, the creeper explosion didn't set Tommy back in progress. In fact, a little bit of the old Tommy was coming back to him after the experience. He started venturing out more, though not without armor anymore. He also finally moved out of that cruddy dirt shack and moved into Snowchester.

Tommy wore an eyepatch most of the time nowadays, not wanting people to stare at his socket. He only took it off around people he felt safe around. Those being Puffy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael. He still got the odd looks at the eyepatch from people who didn't know, but those that did never commented on it.

With the mansion nearly complete, Ranboo decided that he wanted to move some of his stuff in. While he still lived in his cabin by Techno, he also wanted to stay with Tubbo and Michael. So the compromise was that he'd live in both homes. With that settled, Tommy promised to help Ranboo move some of his things over.

Now, this was the first time since right before the "final confrontation" with Dream that he's seen Techno and Phil. Of course, they'd heard he was locked in the prison, and there was a rumor going around that he died, but neither realy knew what he went through.

So of course Techno starts a fight with Tommy about being on his property.

Of course Tommy's stubbornness gets the best of him and he immediately starts arguing back. Ranboo watches the train wreck that is Techno and Tommy's relationship. Phil stands behind Techno, only jumping in to agree with his friend.

"And whats even with the eyepatch? It looks so stupid!"

Snarling, Tommy clenches his fists. "You wanna know whats with the eyepatch? Fine." He rips it off to reveal the rotting socket. It was about time for the weekly checkup anyways, but he wanted to help Ranboo first.

Shocked silence falls over the two anarchists, and Tommy feels a sense of satisfaction.

"...I– Tommy?" Phil was at a loss for words.

"It turns out being revived from the dead isn't all sunshine and flowers. But, I guess neither is being beat to death by your abuser either, innit."

They were already carrying everything that Ranboo wanted to take with him, do with that, Tommy starts to head back for the nether portal.

Suddenly pulled from his shock, Techno reaches for Tommy, wanting– no, needing an explanation. The voices in his head were all confused on how to feel, and he felt much the same. "Theseus–"

Ranboo grabs Techno's wrist before he could touch Tommy. Ranboo, who had talked about having the backbone of a chocolate eclair, had a look in his eyes. Something dangerous and protective that made Techno back off. "Do not touch him." Ranboo had hissed before realizing what he did and getting flustered. "He, uh– he doesn't like being touch..." Ranboo mumbles before hurrying after Tommy.

Techno and Phil are left to wonder what happened to a boy once so full of life. The thought that they were partially of fault for this weighed heavy on them.

---

I didn't really go back and proof read this, it was mostly just a single stream of consciousness over the past couple hours of writing.

Edit: [Masterpost]

[devilishsahbi]

apotelesma | diavolo x fem! reader

[ apotelesma ] - the influence that the stars have over human destiny.

prologue. daughter of eve.

"A DAUGHTER OF EVE一A true descendant of the bloodline, in the flesh." The High Priest regarded you with stone cold blue eyes. His face held no fondness, no gentle wrinkles or lines, but hard, chiseled panes of bone and skin, and the sharp pull of his mouth that descended into a frown. He was no happier with your existence than he was about the task he was to send you on; but you counted your blessings every day you lived to see the sun besides. "Do you understand what they will do to you when they find out?"

       "The angels or the demons?" You inquired, an edge in your tone. You had never liked the way the man had discriminated against either race despite being a holy man, never liked the way he stared at the angels who came to visit you by the behest of the Father and deemed you their friend. "You need to be specific, High Priest."

       "The demons, of course." He scowled at you. "The angels, by some sort of curse, have no choice but to love you. No, I speak of the demons, foolish girl."

       You were neither foolish, nor a girl, but you would let him believe what he wanted. You shifted the bundle of clothes in your lap一a set of clothing that would allow you to enter the devildom unharmed, given to you by Michael一to cross your legs.

       "I remember. Once they find out, they'll drag me down to the icy depths of hell and torture me until the second coming."

      Which were all lies, of course; no one could sense the bloodline of Eve unless you let go of your human form. None except the angels, of whom would guard your secret to their deaths一taught to obey you and your wishes by some wicked love of the woman you had been long ago. A woman whose identity erased the entirety of yours.

        "At least you listened to Sister Anne's lessons." The High Priest grumbled and produced a gorgeous ring from within his robes. It was silver, inlaid with a delicate fire opal that held deposits of gold, and had several unholy symbols carved into the metal band. "This was one of your predecessor's. A powerful sorceress. It will protect you from harm, should you rouse one of the demons to their temper. Only once, and no more."

        You allowed him to drop the precious ring into your open palms. It was unusually warm against your skin, thrumming with its own heartbeat, a heady pulse against your fingers. You closed your fist around it, felt the connection to one of your past selves erupt into being like a chain of fire.

       "Thank you." It was perhaps all you could say. The High Priest had neglected you any semblance of connection to your past lives in the fear you would become corrupt by their morality and values. A mistake made one too many times, he had said, as the sisters discarded your normal clothes in favor of hand woven garb and shoes. "Is there anything else?"

        You so desperately wanted to leave this place, this temple. Even the devildom sounded sweet to your ears, as lonely and chained as you were in this place. You were lucky to have been chosen at all; the other girls were far more up to date with the times. You had only gotten a phone and social media to keep up appearances with your old life.

       "No." The tension in your belly dropped into a thread of relief. "Go now. The sisters will help dress you and escort you to the angels."

        You didn't spare him the grace of your farewell. You leapt up from the chair and darted out of the office and to your room一a small, compact thing that was as white as the rest of the temple, threaded with gold marbling一where the sisters waited for you to get ready.

        They helped you into the odd black spandex suit wordlessly. It had interesting holes cut into the hips, knees, chest, back, elbows, and shoulders, with a shiny sheer panelling that radiated a powerful magic not unlike that of the angels'. Over that went a sleeveless overcoat that felt more like silk than heavy cotton, embroidered with一you nearly cried at the sudden, second connection to one of your past selves一golden dahlias and calla lilies.

       You had also been given heels, but you forewent those for the soft, white leather sandals that had been given to you as a secondary option, slipping them on your feet with a relieved sigh. The sisters made no remark on your attire, the skin you were revealing, or the sudden realization that you had filled out far past what you had originally thought.

       Sister Anne entered the room as you were retying your hair to sit more comfortably on your head, the other sisters having left moments ago. She regarded you with a kind smile before handing you a small circlet. Elegant in design, it was the match to your ring, and you took it from her before you could even think twice.

        "I didn't think that the High Priest would give you the rest of the set," she said smugly, watching you set the jewelry upon your forehead. It fit as if it had been made for you. "I took it upon myself to give it to you before your departure. As a farewell gift."

       "Thank you." You wrapped the older woman up in a tight hug. It was odd to feel her hug you back, patting your shoulder with a quiet laugh. "Really. Thank you, Sister Anne. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there for me."

       "Probably jump out of the belltower like the last descendant did," she quipped, not at all joking. You stilled against her. "Lighten up. The poor girl was insane by the time she was brought here. You'll be fine."

       "If you say so." You parted from the hug. "I'll miss you, you know that, right?"

      "I'd be offended if you didn't!" Sister Anne laughed and slapped you on the back. Hard. Through the thin fabric of your suit, it felt like you had been hit by a truck. "Go on now, before I beg and make you stay. The angels are waiting for you in the courtyard."

       You smiled, but the disgust you felt overpowered it. The angels made you feel sick every time you saw them; when their perfectly normal, sane eyes turned to you and were instantly struck by that curse, bound to your bidding and will. The only angels who could resist and speak to you like normal people were those of the Seraphs and Archangels, even a few cherubim if they were lucky, but normal angels never stood a chance.

       They loved you, of course, because that was how they were created. To love humanity, but to adore one of the first of them all; Eve. And you, unfortunately, carried her soul within you.

      You could only hope that the delegates sent from above were Seraphim.

       You gave a final farewell to Sister Anne and left down the hall before you could turn around and reject your summons to the devildom.

      The angels greeted you in the courtyard with loving smiles and compliments. You tried to ignore them, even when the small slivers of hurt crept upon their faces.

       None of it was real, you told yourself as they opened up the portal to allow you through.

      None of what anyone felt for you was real, you reinforced that belief as you stepped through the portal.

        None of it was true.

        And you stepped out of the portal and into the humid, hot land of Devildom.

end prologue.

let me know what you thought! 💕

[tanoraqui]

[previous]

so right here is probably where you get your obligatory “Wild Hunt follows our hero back to the human realm, forcing them to go on a high-stakes, high-speed chase with their romantic interest as their (fantasy, no cars involved) driver.” Tylweth Tyg Lan Wangji, flying yarrow stalk, clinging tightly together, natch.

their goal is the Duchy of Butchers’ Hill. They probably crash-land in a courtyard

quick history of Butchers’ Hill: a merlin so lowly she had a job in the human world as a butcher, before she saved a monarch’s live and so earned the use of a Hope Chest, and through further service, a duchy. In the face of lingering scorn, she named her new demesne after her mortal career, because fuck you

the current duke, Nie Mingjue, is Tuatha de Danaan through and through, child of happily divorced parents - well, one’s dead, now - because it was an amiable political marriage and his mother had a barony to inherit on a different continent

however his brother and heir, Nie Huaisang, had. Daoine Sidhe mother (everyone knows, though she more or less wandered in one day and left a few years later when she’d stopped her dancing). He has fine Tuatha features, but his hair is the dark dark red of a cursed rose, his eyes are yellow rather than copper, his magic is scented of roses as well as Nie stone. He’s never been able to open a portal. His mother was sickly, they say, and something went wrong in the childbirth; she recovered, but not for long

their goal today is not the duke but in fact his younger brother. “Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang says cheerfully, with the air of someone who’s about to get some ~gossip~. “And Lan-er-gongzi! It’s good to see you! You look like you need a drink.”

Lan Wangji accepts tea, Wei Wuxian accepts wine, and takes a deep sniff - not of the wine. He cuts through the burgeoning small talk. “Nie-xiong, your mother wasn’t a Daoine Sidhe.”

(if I was writing this properly, I would’ve foreshadowed this with more recent historical context, with descriptions of everyone’s magical scents at that first confrontation in Glamour Hall. Suffice to say: his magic smells like his grandmother’s)

“...No,” Nie Huaisang says, after a particularly long sip of wine. “She wasn’t.” He leans forward, because if they’re doing real gossip, then they’re doing real gossip. “Neither was yours, right?”

“Ah, busted,” says Wei Wuxian. “So, can you open a Rose Road?

Hold up, you might ask at this juncture. How does he know about that? Did Captain Pete tell him? For that matter, he knew his exact relation to her - Toby didn’t know this stuff, circa her own fight with Blind Michael! What gives?

Well, here’s the story...

Wei Wuxian is already feeling pretty shit, wandering the streets of Yiling with magic overuse ache like he’s been run over by a tractor, which needless to say is the only reason Wen Chao gets the jump on him

the Burial Mounds is an abandoned iron mine. I think Wen Chao shoots him, first, too, with, like, a gattling gun full of shards of iron (please don’t ask about the technology level of this setting). Anyway, it’s an obvious death sentence. A cruel, slow death sentence, iron poisoning with a fun side dose of, like, broken limbs from being dropped down a mineshaft. Wen Chao laughs and leaves; Wei Wuxian lies here in agony and waits to die

Except...he doesn’t

and then he continues to not

or maybe he does, or comes as close as makes no difference, and wakes up again anyway?

the first time that happens, the Night Haunts arrive. expectantly. There’s only room for a couple of them, and they won’t stay long because of all the iron, but they do their duty; they come for the body

But the body is still living

hallucinating, a little

definitely he assumes the night haunts are a hallucination, at first

he starts talking to them, and eventually, they talk back (maybe one who wears the face of one of the Lotus Lakes squires).

it’s not in the night haunts’ nature to aid the dying but it is acceptable to wait with them, and trade stories with them, or perhaps simply give them, as a parting mercy...

but it’s not parting. For three months, the Night Haunts take shifts perching on the few iron-free spots in this hole in the ground and waiting for Wei Wuxian to die, and letting. him coax them into telling stories with memories as old as Faerie. He needs something to focus on other than the pain - and thirst and hunger, when he remember them. He does his best to pick shards of iron out of his skin, passes out and would die save for the power in his blood, and wakes up and picks out more iron. “Liar’s child”, they call him, and enjoy talking to someone living once more. 

Eventually, he gains enough strength to start crawling, climbing, falling, pushing himself up and crawling again towards the exit.* Eventually, he breaks into the open air again, rolls over on clean grass and turns his head sideways to spit a last (for now) mouthful of blood.

He keeps some of the iron scraps. He forges them into points for his new trident, the Wens having confiscated his old one. He introduces Wen Chao to it a couple months later.

[fastforward out of the flashback!noises]

“I caaan,” Nie Huaisang says reluctantly, tapping his fingers on his wine glass. “But it’s really hard and I’m not very good at directing them, and you just want to use it to help a Wen.”

(here’s more history of Butchers’ Hill: not long after his second wife passed away, the old duke was elfshot. The poison in it was slow-acting; only after several decades did he start to fail. This turned out to be a mistake on King Wen Ruohan’s part, because it meant Nie Mingjue had had time to grow in his own power and military experience. the Sunshot Campaign began not long thereafter)

(there were arguments for Nie Mingjue to take the crown of Golden Sun, after, but it was Jin Guangshan’s changeling who killed Wen Ruohan, and the Daoine Sidhe are ever hungrier than the Tuatha de Danaan)

“I’ll owe you one,” Wei Wuxian promises. “If you want, I can even shift your blood to one side or the other - I can’t imagine it’s comfortable, being half-plant, half-mammal.”

(it’s an honest offer, not a threat. But also: Wen Zhuliu died in agony, at the hands of the Yiling Patriarch. Rebalancing the blood hurts more than anything in the world, except maybe 3 months of death by iron poisoning.)

“I don’t think so,” Nie Huaisang says consideringly. “I mean, yes, it’s terrible sometimes but...could I claim the favor for someone else, if they agree to it?”

“If you can get me on a road to Blind Michael’s realm and back, sure. You don’t need to worry about aiming me.” He flips a compass out of his pocket, 

once again: do I need o dwell on Blind Michael’s dark realm, night without the hope of moon or stars? There’s running, there’s chasing, there’s fighting...rather more fighting than Toby, actually. As established: the Yiling Patriarch isn’t popularly called a Hero (yet), but he is known for his bloody battlefields.

There’s negotiating. Blind Michael is predictably cruel; Wen Ning is sitting at the foot of his throne like a dog, though he hasn’t grown much more than fur and sharp teeth. So far. Wei Wuxian bargains one soul for another and presses rose-wrapped candle and compass into his friend’s already-less-paw-like hands, whispers, “Think of your sister and follow it. Tell her we’re even. Don’t look back, accept any help you’re offered but not ask for it, and you have...” He checks his watch. “About 2 hours.”

He watches Wen Ning go - for a moment. Until Blind Michael calls, “Take him,” and someone hits him very hard on the back of the head, and the empty sky swallows him up.

TBC

[dontshootmespence]

Never Saw Blue Like That Before

Summary: With Michael gone from the far reaches of Dean’s mind, Cas decides to tell his best friend - the man he rose from hell - his true feelings. He’s been in love with him for years and he’s pretty sure Dean feels the same way. Dean does, but being Dean, his first instinct is to push the man he loves away.

Pairing: Destiel

Word Count: 2,455

Warnings: Idiots that pine for each other and won’t admit it, angst, smut, part canon compliant and part canon divergent, oral sex, anal sex, lube, all the touching, I think that’s it :D

A/N: For those of you 18 and over! Some Destiel smangst that fulfills my Destiel square for @spnkinkbingo, mutual pining for @spnfluffbingo​ even tho it’s more angtsy mutual pining, @stusbunker‘s Break My Heart Challenge using the prompt “Save me the sob story!” (That was a 2019 challenge, oops, I’m sorry Stu I love you) and the song prompt (no lyrics) Never Saw Blue Like That Before by Shawn Colvin for @impala-dreamer​‘s Make Me Feel It Challenge. Italics are flashbacks in chronological order. 

Beta’d by: @67-chevy-baby​ Thanks a million!

Few things were certain.

One certainty is that they would be fighting forever. And the other was Cas’ longtime feelings for the man he raised from hell. Michael was gone, cast out from Dean - for now. But there were no guarantees. 

Cas swallowed the lump in his throat and knocked steadily on the door to Dean’s room. When he opened it, Dean shuttered slightly, as if he hadn’t expected Cas to be there. “Cas,” he said, voice soft and low. “What’s up?” He injected a levity into his voice that was unnatural and they both knew it. 

“Can I come in?” Cas asked, not waiting for an answer. 

A small huff of laughter escaped Dean’s lips. “Yea, sure.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Cas questioned. Quite the stupid question all things considering, but he couldn’t get the other words to come out yet.

“Well, Michael vacated my meat suit and I have no freakin’ idea why. He’s still out there. And I have no idea what he’s planning on next, so you know, could be better.” He had his hands on his hips, his lip trembling as he tried so hard to control the myriad of thoughts rolling through his head. 

For a moment, Dean glanced up, chancing a look at one of the two people he trusted most in the world. In all his years, all the people he’d met, all the things he’d seen, there’d never been a feeling closer to peace than when he’d looked in the angel’s eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Cas forced the words out. “Dean, there’s something you need to know. When you let Michael in, I was so afraid I’d never get the chance to say it, so I’m saying it now regardless of the consequences. I...love you.”

“Yea, I know you do, Cas,” Dean said, immediately on the defensive. He turned away a degree, hoping to hide himself from the angel, but after 10 years, he was wise to Dean’s mannerisms. 

Cas reached for Dean’s arm and yanked him back to face him. “No, not just as my best friend. Not just as the man I raised from hell. I-”

“No, no, no, no.” Dean mumbled to himself as he began to pace around the room. This couldn’t be happening. Of course, he loved Cas, he could barely remember a time when he didn’t, but... “Cas, you’re just glad I’m okay, that’s all this is.”

“No it isn’t!” The angel replied, his voice rising ever so slightly. He assumed Sam was still out of the bunker, but if he wasn’t Cas didn’t want to grab his attention. “Dean, that is not what this is. This has been sitting in my head for years. Every time I thought about saying something, another apocalypse was on the horizon or another monster needed to be slain, but that’s our lives and I couldn’t live anymore without getting it out of me.”

Dean bellowed, “Save me the sob story, Cas!” He combed his hands through his hair, still flecked with dirt and grime. The seraph flinched, taking a step back. Cas had no idea what he was saying. “We can’t! Not now, not ever!”

Before Cas could say or do anything, try and salvage whatever it was that they had, Dean barreled out of his room and out of the bunker, leaving Cas distraught and the nearby Sam saddened at his brother’s trademark stubbornness.  

                                                          --------

It was a dream. That much he knew. But he didn’t care. All Dean cared about was the slight breeze that came off the lake, the fishing pole in his hand and the sudden coolness at his back - the angel that permeated his dreams. “Hey Cas,” he said softly. “Why are you here?” It’s not what he wanted to say. What he wanted to say was ‘stay here’ and ‘let’s not move ever again,’ because this was perfect. 

But cowardice always won out. Put a knife in his hand and a demon at his back and he’d tackle that head on. But he couldn’t say those few simple words when the angel was near. 

“I have something I need to tell you,” Cas replied. There was so much he needed to say. How much humanity had already changed him. How much Dean had changed him and made him better. But that wasn’t why he was here. “We need to meet somewhere safe.”

Dean’s lip curved upward into a smile, the irony apparent. “Cas, we’re in my head.”

“And if I can be here, nothing says someone else can’t be here.” After handing Dean the paper, fingers brushing against the calloused skin of Dean’s right hand, Cas left - every word he wanted to say bottled up in the back of his mind for whenever the time was right.

                                                           --------

Leaned up against the Impala with a beer in his hand should’ve left Dean content, but with Sam in the pit and no conceivable way to get him out, Dean was lost. He tipped the bottle to his lips and took a swig when the familiar flap of Cas’ wings sounded behind him. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.” He wanted to ask how he was, but he knew the answer. And he also wanted to say so much, but with Dean in pain it didn’t seem right to complicate things. “Why are you out here alone?”

Dean dipped down to the cooler next to him and popped a bottle open for Cas. “I’m not alone. Just needed to breathe. I was in a similar field like this with Sam when we were kids. We set off fireworks even though Dad would’ve been pissed. It was one of the best days of my life.”

“We’ll get him back, Dean.” If it killed him, he’d get Sam back for the man he loved. “I promise.”

“I know,” Dean replied. They would find a way, but he wasn’t about to lose Bobby or Cas in the process. “You didn’t have to check in on me, you know.”

Cas drank the bitter liquid and smiled, his face hidden in the shadows of the night. “I wanted to.”

                                                            --------

As Cas followed behind Dean and the vampire, he pushed Dean’s protestations out of his mind. ‘I’m not leaving you behind. You'll get through.’

He wouldn’t. Deep down, Cas knew that the wormhole out of Purgatory wouldn’t allow him out. Dean was a human. Purgatory wanted him gone; it was desperate to spit him out. But Cas was an angel - a monster like any other. After all he’d done in heaven and on earth, he deserved to stay here with the rest of the world’s monsters.

“There it is,” Benny pointed out, the blue wormhole in the distance teeming with life and possibilities for anyone that managed to pass through it. 

Before him, Dean and Benny conducted the ritual so that Dean could carry his new friend through the portal. “Alright, Cas, come on.”

Reluctantly, he stepped forward, only to have his attention turned backward when the leviathan landed just paces away. He hurried his friend toward the portal, ready to push him through alone at any moment. 

Dean stepped into the swirling blue light, ready to do anything necessary to bring Cas through with him, but the angel saw the situation for what it was - an untimely death for them both.

“Go!” Cas screamed, pushing Dean through the portal.

After all that had transpired between them, all the ways he had let Dean down, the least he could do was get him back to his brother. With or without him.

                                                           --------

A stark white blinded Dean’s eyes when the blade pierced through Cas’ chest, his eyes burning bright before the light went out. 

He’d screamed himself raw that night, cursing Chuck, Lucifer, and the world as a whole for taking Cas away from him. When Cas was stabbed, Dean lost a part of himself, his heart disappearing into a black hole. He used to believe that losses were part of the job, but after losing Cas, he couldn’t make sense of it anymore.

The sharp ring of his phone jarred him awake, his head knocking against the glass. “You okay?” Sam asked. 

No. “Yea, I’m fine,” Dean replied, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

A familiar voice told him to turn down the next block and although everything in him was telling him this was impossible, a trick, or just something too good to be true, he forced Sam to turn down the street without any explanation. “What is it?” Sam asked. “Dean, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. If there was even the smallest chance, Dean was going to take it, no matter the risk of disappointment. 

Near a payphone halfway down the block, the silhouetted figure of the trenchcoat-wearing angel caught the brothers’ eyes. Sam slammed on the brakes. “Cas?”

Sam immediately gathered the angel into his embrace, while the older stared through glassy eyes, afraid to believe them. “Cas,” he breathed as he held onto his angel for dear life. There was so much he needed to say. He wanted to tell him that when the light in his eyes went out, his own heart forgot to keep beating, but nothing would come out. Instead, he hugged him tighter, hoping to never let go.

                                                          --------

Dean stormed back into the bunker hours later without a passing glance at Sam, a bottle of bourbon in his hand and a blanket of guilt wrapped around his shoulders. When he opened the door to his room, he hoped to see Cas, to finally say all the things he should’ve said so long ago, but the door opened to an empty room. 

Closing the door behind him, Dean tipped the amber liquid into his mouth, thankful for the familiar burn, almost as familiar as the layer of guilt he’d worn for so many years. Cas, I’m sorry, he whispered to himself. “I wish I’d had the balls to tell you how I felt a long time ago, but I’m a coward, I’ve-”

A quick flap of Cas’ wings brought Dean’s attention to the angel’s presence. “Dean Winchester, you are not a coward.” Though his deep blue eyes teemed with tears, his words were adamant. “I did not raise a coward. I have not been stuck by a coward’s side for the past ten years. I-”

“Cas, I didn’t call you. How?”

“I heard you.”

Dean placed the bottle of bourbon on the nightstand next to his bed, his gaze following suit, the heaviness of the moment too much for him to bear just yet. The desire to just be was at war with his desire to protect, to push away. “Michael could come back, Cas. You could-”

“That’s my choice,” he retorted. In the forest green eyes of the man he loved, he saw his feelings reflected, but years of loss made him painfully hesitant. Cas took a step closer and swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “Dean, we’re always fighting. Always. Let’s face it, we don’t know anything else at this point, but-”

“But at least we’d have each other,” Dean finished.

Dean finally allowed himself to lock eyes with Cas - the feeling familiar and calming, yet always sent his heart racing. 

Not another word was spoken as Cas backed Dean into the wall of his room, his lips hungrily searching for Dean’s. He’d thought Dean would be hesitant, but he wasn’t. His hands searched for Cas’ shirt, fingers hurriedly unbuttoning as he pulled the material free and moaned into the angel’s mouth. 

Cas lifted the hem of Dean’s shirt, grazing his fingers along the scar-ridden skin before pulling the material over his head. When he laid his hand on the mark he’d left on Dean’s shoulder so long ago, Dean switched their positions and pushed Cas back into the wall.

As Dean dropped to his knees, Cas threw his tie to the ground and let his coat and shirt pool behind him. Dean pulled Cas’ cock free of his pants and pushed them down around his ankles, taking the tip into his mouth while he watched Cas’ mouth drop open. 

Dean grazed his hand up Cas’ thigh and cupped his balls, running his finger between them while his tongue swirled around the length of him. Cas’ hand fell gently onto the mark on Dean’s shoulder, making him feel wanted, loved, safe. He looked up through thick lashes and pushed down further, not caring about the wanton noises he was making or the mess they’d have to clean up later. 

Cas braced himself up against the wall and slipped his hands into Dean’s hair, watching with rapt attention as Dean pulled back to take a deep breath before returning to his task of making the angel come undone. “Fuck,” Cas breathed.

Hearing Cas’s voice pushed Dean to take him down further, go faster, but Cas wasn’t about to let this be over that quickly. Not after 10 years. He slipped his hand under Dean’s chin and guided him to a standing position.

Dean’s lips were slick with spit, eyes glassy as he walked backward toward the bed. Cas pulled on his bottom lip, hands skating up the length of his spine before he pushed him down on the bed and grabbed some lubricant from Dean’s side drawer. 

Moaning, Dean dug his shoulders into the bed as Cas massaged the lube into his skin. “It’s been ten years, Cas. No more foreplay.”

Cas chuckled, expecting nothing less from the man he loved. Bending down, he kissed Dean and he slipped his cock passed the tight right of muscle. They moaned into each other’s mouths, grasping for each other and the surrounding sheets as Cas pumped himself inside Dean. 

Underneath the angel, Dean reached down to cup Cas’ balls as they slapped against his ass. “Fuckin hell, Cas.”

“You’ve always had a mouth on you,” he replied with a laugh. 

Dean spoke on a moan. “You think that’d change now?”

There was some kind of a response floating around in Cas’ head, but as Dean clenched around him all thought disappeared, his control waning despite his best efforts. He wanted this to last longer, to memorize the sounds he made, the way he tasted like whiskey, the feel of his muscles straining under his touch, but Dean pulled him down into a kiss so hungry it broke Cas’ resolve.

When Cas came, he wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock and pumped him hard, silencing his cry with a kiss when Dean finally let go. With a satisfied sigh, a heavy weight lifting from his soul, Dean slid back into his spot on the bed, tapping next to him. “Stay?” He asked.

“Where else would I go?”

[marie12141989]

It’s A Cold And It’s A Broken Hallelujah part eight

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1263

A/N: I’m finally back to writing the series again. I moved recently and between trying to get my apartment organized and waiting for my income tax to come in so that I could get myself a new laptop to type my stories on with it took me a while to get these done. I just did all of them today so if I screwed something up it’s because I’m going off of memory right now.

You were sitting at the nearest table to the portal with an old lore book in front of you and a pile of weapons sitting nearby just in case. You had just flipped the page to find that you were on the section about mermaids when the soft sound of wings was heard, you looked up and saw Adam/Michael standing there. "Um hi." you said not sure what he wanted.

"Hello Y/N how are you?" he asked and you knew that you were dealing with Michael at the moment.

"Fine all things considered. You know, having to watch the giant gaping hole that you left in the bunker really puts a damper on people's day Michael." you told him. You were sure he was going to snap his fingers and do away with you after that but you were surprised to see him just raise an eyebrow at you.

"I guess it would. Anyway I actually came here to talk to you about a few things." Michael said before sitting down. You blinked at him in surprise, he was sitting right across from you and if anyone walked in and looked at the two of you and ignored the giant riff behind you and the table that had weapons piled on top of the table beside you they would think that he was going to interview you.

"Okay what do you want to talk about?" you asked. Michael seemed unsure as to how to start off and you were sure he was having a private conversation with Adam before he seemed to have come to an agreement on how he was going to brooch the subject before he straightened up again.

"Well to start off with I know that you and Castiel are in a relationship and I know that the two of you have been......well intimate. I just wanted to let you know that Nephilim are against Heaven's rules. I'm willing to overlook Jack since Adam has convinced me that he's innocent but I won't tolerate other angels going off and creating them. Castiel knows that they are not allowed so the fact that he's carelessly,well I know you know what I'm getting at." Michael said.

"Oh that. I guess that you didn't talk to Castiel for very long when he was trying to explain the situation to you" you told him, Michael raised an eyebrow at you before showing you that he was listening "Castiel doesn't have to be careful with me. I found out years ago that I can't have children. My boyfriend at the time left me because of it and any relationship I tried to have would fall apart as soon as they found out that I'd never be able to give them a child. It's nice to finally be with someone who couldn't care less about that, we've basically decided to consider Jack and Claire as our kids. Claire still calls me on Mother's Day every year and Jack got me flowers this year." your smile quickly faded as the memory came back and you had to take a deep breath to keep from crying. You watched as Adam/Michael's face went from being stern to one of concern.

"I forgot that some humans are unable to have children. It always upset Gabriel when he would get prayers from a woman asking him to help them get pregnant, back before money made the world go around it was easy for him to find a way for them to adopt a child if they were unable to have any of their own. I was just being overly cautious, Castiel was never known to be an angel that listens to the rules. He liked to do things his way more often then not." Michael said and you could tell from the smile on his face that he had a really good story about Castiel when he was younger up his sleeve that you made a mental note to get out of him at some point.

"He's still like that. I tell him not to do something and he still does it. He doesn't even talk back anymore, he basically just shrugs and gives me a look like he just wants me to argue with him." you said with a laugh. The two of you sat there and laughed for a few minutes before he took a deep breath and gave you a look that you were sure was supposed to be a look of affection.

"I wanted to ask you about a few other things since my understanding is that Adam and I have missed out on a lot of things while we were in the cage. From what I've gathered my aunt is free but she has decided not to end the world, I'm the last archangel in this universe. Heaven is in danger of collapsing because my species is going extinct and Lucifer had a son that my father killed." Michael said before looking at you.

"Oh that's just skimming the surface, you forgot the fact that you're not the only Michael. This isn't the only universe, your dad has basically shown that he's a giant ass and if this idea doesn't work we're all screwed." you pointed out.

"And something tells me that there's still more that we have yet to cover." Michael said.

"Oh so much more. That's why I'm sitting here now. The last thing that we need is for anything escaping from Purgatory and making things worse." you told him before waving a hand at the pile of weapons. You watched as Michael's eyes flashed blue and you could tell from the fact that his face has become much more kinder and gentler that Adam had taken over.

"I can help. I mean Michael said that he won't allow me to go into Purgatory but I can stay here until someone comes back." Adam said while turning to the pile of weapons.

"I don't know Adam. Your father and brothers don't want you to become a hunter." you said looking at him unsure.

"I didn't say that I was going off to hunt anything after this. I just want to get a basic understanding so that I can help keep what ever's in there from coming through to this side." Adam said with a roll of his eyes. You let out a huff before looking at the weapons to find the easiest one to explain.

"Okay fine we'll start with the most simple one." you said before grabbing the machete that was nearby.

"Is a vine going to come out or something?" Adam asked confused.

"It's for cutting off a vampire's head." you told him before turning and pointing at another weapon, one by one you went over the weapons until you were sure that he had been told about all of them.

"What about the borax?" Adam asked while poking it with a finger.

"Strangely enough. It works on Leviathans." you said and you watched one of his eyebrows raise. "Yeah some of the things that you use as weapons on these things surprises me still." you told him.

"What about if any angels come out?" he asked but you shook your head.

"Angels don't go to Purgatory when they die. They go to the Empty, Castiel was able to annoy his way out of it two years ago. That's where......Jack is.....I hope that he isn't awake there. He's probably so terrified." you said before wrapping your arms around yourself. Adam got up and walked over to you before giving you a hug.

[inkribbon796]

The Midnight Hour is Close at Hand Ch. 1

Chapter 1: The Thriller

Summary: Sometimes heroics is more dangerous than it’s worth, especially when you have minors dressing up like superheroes and trying to go up against dangerous villains.

A/N: Warning! The death of a minor is detailed in this. This is for Robbie’s birthday, which is actually tomorrow but I didn’t want to push the release of another story back a day for that. Also no black magic was actually used in the making of this story because I refuse to be responsible for getting anyone in trouble. Titles of this story are a reference to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Because that song and NateWantsToBattle’s Terror Time cover are pretty much all I listen to while writing this.

Chapters: 1, 2

~::~ Five Years Ago ~::~

The idea of the heroes getting apprentices or sidekicks had been around, jokingly, since they first started the Coalition. Roman, coincidentally brought it up first. The colorful hero liked working with and around kids since he practically had Disney Prince slapped over his forehead anytime he went out in public in full costume. Logan was forced to reign him in constantly.

Over the years many kids and teenagers had tried to be heroes but they lacked one thing or the other: the fact they were minors, parents understandably didn’t want their kids put against villains, and a real lack of an ability to protect themselves against the villains like Anti or Wil who were known to think weapon-first and consequences never.

Eventually, a couple teens made the cut. The first happened during patrol when Mark was surprised and almost punched a fourteen-year-old’s head off. He was in a costume that reminded Mark of his first couple of costumes. It was clearly a blue sweater, a pair of jeans, and a blue face mask which barely covered his identity. He was in items pulled from the boy’s closet.

Then, eager to prove his agility, the young would-be superhero did a backflip.

Despite his invisibility gift, and a sweet backflip that he would be embarrassed about for years to come, Blank didn’t immediately get a license to become a superhero. He would get that through proving that regardless of having the right equipment or permission, he was going to be a superhero, come hell or high water.

So there was a quiet agreement that Silver and the rest of the heroes would keep their eye on him and make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble.

The Coalition’s second side-kick was a bit different.

Robert Gravesly was much like any other teenager in Athlone, he liked to get into trouble after school. He tended to frequent areas that several gangs were in and got arrested by accident more than once. Robbie was a smart kid and over time had just ingratiated himself with the Septics, so much so that Henrik took the young boy under his wing a bit.

Chase bonded with his as well, the young man helping to sooth the gaping hole in his heart that his divorce had left him in.

The young fifteen-year-old had dreams of nursing school and at first he was more likely to be seen with Henrik and Iplier than the rest of the Coalition.

Then Ethan met Robbie and there began to be a serious discussion: Robbie despite a couple schoolyard scrapes didn’t know enough self defense to really protect himself. Logan even admitted that a plucky attitude and intelligence only get you so far, even he had tech to augment himself.

Eric and Randall were picked up shortly after, Randall more eager to be a hero but wanted to stay with his painfully shy friend. Iplier, by necessity, was more of a parent to them than a guardian.

It was all going well, Ethan was coming up on his seventeenth birthday, Robbie was about to turn sixteen, and Eric and Ray were fifteen.

But then Blank and Grave got a bit too confident in themselves.

“You sure we got the right message?” Ethan asked Marvin.

“Oh yeah, simple in an’ out,” Marvin smiled as he walked next to Silver. “Yeh two keep watch an’ we go in an’ talk ta the informant.”

To Blank’s frustration he was sent with Robbie to a neighboring building to the one Silver and Marvin would slip into. Ethan, half invisible as he looked out the window of an office building that matched the one across the street.

“Man I wish we could do something interesting,” Ethan grumbled. “I’m almost twenty, I know what I’m doing.”

“In a couple years we’ll be laughin’ ‘bout it,” Robbie shrugged.

Then they started to hear talking, the two sidekicks moved towards the open door to listen. Then they moved into the cluttered storage room right next door.

The voices were unfamiliar, a teen about their age and an older man.

“Why does the Old Man want me here again?” The younger voice asked.

“I don’t ask the big guy questions,” the older voice dismissed. “It’s how I’ve stayed alive this long.”

“Right,” the younger voice huffed out.

“Shit!” Ethan hissed out, “is it one of those guys? Why are they in this one?”

“We should go tell the others,” Robbie whispered.

“I can’t take both of us,” Ethan reminded, his powers still weaker and shorter ranged than they would be when he became a full-fledged hero.

“Yeh go, I’ll keep an eye on ‘em,” Robbie promised.

“You sure?” Ethan asked.

The younger sidekick nodded, “Go ‘fore I kick yeh out the window.”

With that Ethan made one of the only decisions he would truly regret, leaving Robbie alone in the building.

Carefully Robbie began to creep towards the voices, moving through the hallway until he had to duck behind a filing cabinet when the door opened.

“What’s taking so long,” a young man with a metal bat groaned in frustration. His golden eyes almost glowing in the darkness. The end of the bat hitting the concrete floor loudly. “I have books to write.”

“We’ve barely been here for a minute,” the older man followed the younger boy in, Robbie recognized him, it was one of Dark’s lieutenants, Lynel Bargs.

He also noticed that he seemed a little tense.

“Whatever,” the young author reached up for a bronze star something on his button-up short lapel and blew on it.

“No!” Bargs yelled out but clamped his mouth shut when a rip in reality opened up and after a couple seconds Dark walked through. He was straightening up his jacket and fixing his tie.

“Arthur? What happened?” Dark asked, and Robbie started mentally cursing as he clamped his hands over his mouth and hunkered down into the shadow of the filing cabinet, putting Dark out his line of sight.

“Ugh!” Arthur groaned. “I don’t know you called me here and never showed up.”

“Seems everything’s fine here Darky,” Wilford said, a giddy smile in his voice. “Maybe we should go back and—”

He trailed off, Robbie fighting his curiosity to look.

“Bargs, what are you doing here with him?” Dark asked, his tone almost dripping with accusation and threat.

“You told me to bring him here,” Bargs responded defensively.

The entire room seemed to chill as silence descended upon everyone in it.

Finally Dark said, “Go home, Arthur, I didn’t call you here.”

“Okay,” the normally caustic and belligerent teen sounded subdued and walked through the portal, it stayed open ominously.

Dark walked closer to Bargs, someone that minutes ago he’d considered loyal. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you,” Bargs said. “You called me here.”

“I thought you knew better than to lie to me, Bargs, especially about them,” Dark snarled angrily, his aura thrashing around, numbing into some of the objects in the room, including a filing cabinet.

The filing cabinet toppled over and Robbie tried to get out of the way, but space was limited and he was afraid of revealing himself.

With an audible crack, the cabinet’s weight landed on Robbie’s leg and snapped his fibula in half.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” Robbie screamed out in agony.

Dark turned at the scream, he’d heard and caused thousands in the time he’d been sentient and been flinching towards them. But for the past fifteen years he’d been fighting with very parental instincts. And the scream of a young teenager almost struck him like a bullet.

“Well what do we have here?” Wilford commented, the scream hitting his brain wrong. He pulled out his gun. “Let me dig the poor lad out.”

“Wil!” Dark reaches out with his aura to stop him but the madman was faster and when Dark’s aura pulled him back, Wil shot the teenager in the chest instead of the leg.

With another tortured grunt the young man curled on himself a bit.

“Get out,” Dark ordered and threw Wil through the portal Arthur had gone through. It flickered closed before reopening and Dark haphazardly threw his traitorous lieutenant into it.

He could be dealt with later.

Dark rushed over to the young hero and was struck by the fact that he hadn’t seen this sidekick before. His informants in the police had told him the heroes had four, he’d personally been given three photos of children dressing up like vigilantes, but he’d never seen this one.

An angry pit burned in his gut, the faces of the children he had helped raise with Wil flashing through his mind, as he watched the kid let out pained gasps. This was a child, the heroes had convinced a child to meet up with an informant! At least Dark had the good sense to keep his Lost Ones supervised, even around Wil.

Trying to reign back his anger, Dark pushed the objects away and watched the boy flinch in fear when he saw him kneel down.

Dark knew he should leave, he’d get blamed for the boy’s death anyways, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

Robbie whimpered out when someone propped him up a bit and he looked up to realize Dark had gently set his head up on the Entity’s leg . . . his mask was gone.

“No,” Robbie choked out in a panic, he hadn’t even noticed it getting pulled off.

“Hush,” Dark said as he pressed all the buttons on Robbie’s watch, knowing one of them signaled the other heroes but not knowing which it was. “Save your strength, and hopefully they’ll get here in time.”

Dark scanned his eyes over the boy’s wounds, already knowing it was probably too late. If he was in a hospital, he might survive, but he wasn’t.

“The heroes made a mistake,” Dark told him, memorizing the boy’s face and brushed his messy brown hair out of the way. “They shouldn’t have let you into their world. Your death is a tragedy.”

Robbie couldn’t talk, a mix of pain and fear robbing him of speech.

“I have some boys about your age,” Dark admitted. “Maybe in another life you could have fought them as adults. But life’s not fair, least of all to children.”

The boy’s breathing was getting quieter, more labored, and he had a sad, panicked air about him as his life was slipping away. His strength robbed from him by his wounds so that he couldn’t even call out, couldn’t even scream if he wanted to.

And he wanted to.

“Sleep, and hopefully the heroes will learn,” Dark told him gently as he felt the tension in the teenager’s body finally slip away. Dark waited a minute before he checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

Dark slipped the mask back on and got up, the young teenager lying on the ground.

Before Dark could take a single step to go and find Silver or another hero, Silver found him first. He burst through the door and looked from Robbie to Dark and then went into a rage.

“No!” Silver screamed and flew at Dark so quickly that the Entity barely had time to throw up his aura, burying him a bit into the wall. Dark had his aura shielding him as Silver clearly trying to cave his face in.

“Silver!” Marvin called out, already starting to try and cast magic to revive what Dark knew was someone who was already dead. “He’s not breathin’, I can’t get him ta wake up.”

“What did you do?!” Silver demanded.

“What did I do?” Dark spat in outrage, his anger almost throwing Silver off. “I’m not the one that sent a child against a crazed gunman and hoped that he’d find mercy!”

“You killed him,” Silver accused.

“His death is on your hands, hero,” Dark shoved him away. “I am not responsible for the children you dress up and fill their heads with fantasies.”

“Yeh fucker!” Marvin shouted at Dark, “yeh asshole! He was a kid.”

“Yes,” Dark agreed, his tone terse and angry. “And how old was he gentlemen? Sixteen? Fifteen? Barely old enough to drive or try and get and job, and yet here he is, dead on the floor of some shitty insurance building. Clearly someone should not have entrusted their child to you.”

“He wasn’t supposed ta die!” Marvin shouted. “No one was even supposed ta be in here!”

“The rest of your sidekicks,” Dark turned his attention back to Silver as he opened up a portal into the Void. “Fire them and send them home. If he’s lucky, death has him. You should collect your dead and move on.”

Then he left, Silver finally turning to look at Robbie, “Jackie already took Blank back to the base.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marvin’s eyes watering as he nodded desperately. “J.J’s still at the base, he’ll fix this. He’ll fix this.”

Silver sighed, Mark had to have some type of hope but in the back of his mind he knew that they could never remember the times J.J turned back the clock.

But Mark carefully picked Robbie up and cradled him against his chest. Death was already starting to permeate the room as he rushed to bring him to the base, calling ahead to make sure that Eric, Ray, and Ethan were safe at the base. Along with announcing the grizzly news: Robbie was dead.

[slashthedice]

Michael Myers sparing your life after killing everyone around you prompt maybe? NSFW if you do not mind writing that, too. :) (Sorry for all the asks, but I fell in love w/ your blog.

Hi! You are too sweet to me! Thanks so much for all your amazing requests, I’ve had so much fun writing for them :) I know I’m not the first to do this sort of thing, but I wrote this in the context of Dead by Daylight because I’ve been watching my roommate play way too much. Hope that’s okay! Also, I definitely do not mind writing NSFW ;3c This is kind of a long one, so I’m going to crosspost it on AO3.

This wasn’t your first time in Haddonfield. Actually, as of late, the Entity had seemed particularly fond of setting you loose in the nightmarish neighborhood streets. You were now intimately familiar with the eerie glow of the street lamps and the flashing lights of the unoccupied and inoperable police cruiser. However, this time was not like the others. This time you had begun the trial with a strange crushing feeling in your chest, not unlike a cold vice wrapped around your heart. You had had this feeling described to you by other survivors, and it was never a good sign.

You found yourself in the unique position of obsession.

You supposed that you should have known this was coming. You had been eluding the Shape again and again, trial after trial for much longer than was probably reasonable. Everytime he was close to finally catching and killing you, you managed to escape. Hopping down the hatch, slipping through the gates just in time, dropping pallets on him when his reaching hand was mere inches from you. Last time, you had used a little trick Laurie had taught you, taking a shard of glass you had tucked away into your waistband and jabbing it into his shoulder, giving you just enough time to slip away. You were sure that for a killer as prolific as he was your continued escapes must have been infuriating.

You had admittedly begun to enjoy the repeated game of cat and mouse the two of you were playing. The rush of adrenaline you got when you saw that familiar mask staring back at you was exhilarating, and you secretly loved the way your heart pounded when you heard his heavy breathing behind you as he chased you through the streets. These were things you would never admit to another survivor. Hell, you had a hard enough time admitting it to yourself.

This time though, you didn’t feel that familiar rush as you realized where you were. You hadn’t seen him yet, but you knew who the killer was. As you crouched beside a generator, you felt more tense than you had going into a trial in a long time. You felt like you were on the edge of something. This time was most certainly different, and it wasn’t just because it was your first time as the obsession. There was some energy in the air, and it crackled through your mind and body.

You were barely halfway done with repairing the generator when you heard the first scream in the night air. It was not the scream of someone being put on the hook, it was a final dying shriek, a warning sent out into the night to let other prey know that a predator was here and they were looking to kill. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and goosebumps covered your arms.

You continued to look over your shoulder every few seconds, looking for a flash of white or the glint of a blade. You felt relief wash over you as Claudette emerged from around the side of the house. You gave her a nod as she came closer and began to help with repairs.

“He killed Nea,” she whispered to you. “We didn’t even see him coming, he just pulled her off the generator and killed her.”

“I’m the obsession,” you admitted quietly.

She gave you a pitying look. If he was already being this brutal with his kills, you both wondered what was in store for you.

“Who else is left?” You asked. You felt bed, but you hoped it was Laurie. She was crafty and more than capable of escaping him, but more than that they had encountered each other before the Entity’s realm, and Michael always took the time to hunt her down. That might just give you and Claudette enough time to finish the generators and open the gates.

“I think it’s Jake,” she responded.

So much for that plan, you thought bitterly.

Just as the two of you were finishing up your repairs, you heard the tell-tale sound of another generator starting up a ways away. Jake must have finished the generator Nea and Claudette had been working on before. Not long after your generator clicked on, however, you heard that same horrible scream you had before. Frozen fear flooded through your veins and you shared a terrified look with Claudette.

Too soon, it was all too soon. The trial had barely just begun and already you were the final two survivors. You hadn’t even seen the Shape yet.

The two of you split off in different directions. There really was no safety in numbers here. You slipped into a house, conscious of the aged wooden floor beneath your feet and any sounds it may make. With your heart in your throat, you made your way up the stairs, hoping to find a generator in one of the rooms on the second story.

Much to your relief, you found one and got to work. You could only hope that Claudette was doing the same. That would mean that the two of you only had one more to complete before you could make your escape and forget all about the strange feeling you had had all trial. You tried to calm the trembling of your fingers as you pulled, pushed, and prodded to force parts back into place.

You heard the ding of another generator coming to life and felt a rush of relief. You finished your generator quickly enough, and headed to the window to see if you could find Claudette, or even Michael. At least if you could spot him you would know where not to go.

You had barely poked your head up over the windowsill before you spotted your fellow survivor. She was sneaking around the side of the house you were in towards the front. If she could just make it a little further, she would be behind the cover of the shrubbery in the front of the yard. Just a few more feet…

He materialized from the shadows as if he were made from the fog itself. With all the grace of a panther stalking its prey in the night, he fell upon her too fast for you to even warn her. You watched with an open mouth as the blade sailed through the air, reflecting the flashing red and blue lights as it went. Claudette shrieked when the weapon carved through her back, sending her sprawling across the grass.

You could do nothing but watch as Michael lifted her with a hand under her chin into the air. You spotted the blade once more only to watch it sink into your friend with a wet sound. He withdrew it from her slowly, torturously, only to drive it right back into her frantically struggling form. She made a sickening gurgling sound and then was silent. Everything was silent except for the frantic pounding of your own heart

You knew you should move. You needed to get out of the house and to the hatch that had surely appeared somewhere, but you could do nothing but stare down at the Shape as he threw your friend’s lifeless corpse to the ground. He loomed over the body, motionless in this mimicry of a suburban neighborhood.

And then he raised his head.

You could see nothing in the unfathomable blackness visible through the eye holes in the mask, but you knew that he was staring right back at you. You felt his freezing gaze stop you in place, and a thrill went through your paralyzed form. You knew then that things had never been more different than they were in this trial. Michael was done playing games with you.

You could have sworn that you only blinked and he was gone, freeing you from your temporary paralysis. You made a beeline for the stairs, almost sliding past them in your rush. You found yourself frozen once more as you stared down the steps. Michael was at the bottom, and he was staring right back up at you. You turned and bolted back towards the window, but he was faster than you. You dove forward to throw yourself through the open portal, but you weren’t even halfway through when you felt a large hand grab the back of your shirt.

Your back hit the ground hard, and before you could even think about scrambling to your feet a large boot was planted on your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs and effectively pinning you in place. You tried to squirm out from beneath, clawing at his ankle and pushing at his calf, but he may as well have been made of stone for how little he moved. You looked up to find the impassive mask that you had learned to fear staring back at you. His head was tilted slightly to one side as he watched you struggling.

Then, faster than a lightning strike, one of his massive hands was around your throat and you were hoisted into the air.

He finally had you. You kicked your legs wildly as you tried to pry at the iron grip he had around your throat. You knew your struggling was merely a futile last ditch effort in a war of attrition, but you couldn’t just go limp and wait for the cold steel of his knife to pierce your abdomen. But that never came.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were dangling about a foot off the ground with your vision slowly going dark due to air loss, and the next you were pinned to the wall by a hard body. You saw him raise the large butcher’s knife above his head and you were sure it was about to find its home in your chest, but when it came arcing down towards you you felt no pain and instead found it embedded a few inches deep into the wall next to your head. Your eyes widened as you looked up at the ever impassive mask, his normally heavy breathing seemed to be even heavier now, the sound reverberating behind the rubber face close to panting. He pressed against you harder and his hips ground into yours.

Oh. OH. Well, that was unexpected.

You were at a loss. You had known there was tension between yourself and the killer, but you hadn’t realized that it was this kind of tension. Yet here you were, pinned to a wall with him basically rutting against you, but as much as you wanted to you couldn’t find it in yourself to dislike the situation. In fact, your feelings on the matter were very much the opposite.

You gasped and gripped Michael’s forearms when one of his strong thighs pressed between your legs, forcing you up onto your tiptoes just to reach the ground. You resisted the urge to grind yourself against him. He leaned into you more, masked face pressing into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You heard him inhale deeply, almost like he was taking in your scent, but you couldn’t imagine he could smell much more than latex from inside the white rubber. He seemed to realize the same thing.

His calloused hands found their way to your hips, lifting you off his thigh and stepping back slightly. For one heart stopping moment you thought that he had changed his mind and was going to kill you, but as soon as that thought crossed your mind, you found yourself flipped around with your face shoved up against the old, peeling wallpaper. He shoved his leg back between your thighs, and you couldn’t help the heated sound that escaped you as he pressed against you with a bit more pressure than before. One of his hands left your hips and found its home against the back of your neck, ensuring that you could not move or turn your head.

A rush of heat burned its way through your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this close to someone, let alone someone that could toss you around so easily. This was a terrible idea, possibly one of the worst you had ever had. You could smell the coppery scent of blood surrounding you, and you knew it had to belong to your friends, but his proximity had your head swimming and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The hand that wasn’t pinning you in place began to wander, pushing up your shirt to explore the heated skin of your stomach and ribs, continuing northward to force its way between your chest and the wall. He cupped your clothed breast in his rough hand, and you choked on the moan that bubbled up in your throat. He took note of this, and if you didn’t know better you would have sworn you heard a low sound of approval come from him.

His hand slithered back down your abdomen to press firmly between your hips and drag you backwards so that your ass was directly against the burning, hardened length of him. You felt a spike of anxiety shoot through you. From what you could feel against your backside, he was big. It made sense, you supposed, the rest of him was huge so it makes sense that his dick would be the same. Though your mind cried out about logistics and potential pain, your traitorous body was abuzz with excitement and your cunt was near dripping at the thought of Michael inside you.

You wiggled your hips back against him. He responded by tightening his hold on the nape of your neck and growling in your ear, the feral sound vibrating in his chest and through your body. You let loose a litany of wanton, needy sounds. You were completely overwhelmed by the heat coursing through you. You needed him, and you needed him now.

“Please,” you begged, hoping he understood what you were asking.

You could have cried with relief when his hand slipped around the front of your body and his nimble fingers found the clasp of your jeans. You were more than happy to help him drag the fabric barrier along with your panties down your hips and over your ass so that you could shimmy them down your legs and finally kick the offending material away. You expected him to immediately free himself from his bloodsoaked coveralls and push inside you.

You were pleasantly and genuinely surprised when you felt his fingers swipe along your slickness. When he came to your entrance, he shoved a finger inside forcing you to bite down on the inside of your cheek to quiet a gasp. A second finger joined the first and you thrashed against his hold. It was too much. You were so full with only his fingers inside you. His hold on you never wavered, and the curling of his fingers had you panting. When the heel of his hand dragged against your clit you sucked in a breath and shuddered against him.

As the minutes ticked by and his attentions to your weeping pussy continued, that oh so familiar tightness built in your core and sparks of pleasure shot through your limbs. You were so unbearably close. You babbled out pleas for him to let you have your release, crying his name and trying desperately to force his fingers deeper and his palm harder against you. You thought he would take mercy on you and finish you off, but just as you began to tip over that precipice into bliss, he withdrew.

You whined at the loss as the pleasure ebbed, but the sound of a zipper being undone and fabric rustling filled you with renewed heat. You wanted to see him, but the vice grip on your neck dashed any hope of that happening. All disappointment was chased from your scattered thoughts when you felt the blunt head of him at your soaking entrance.

Once he had lined himself up, his fingers grasped your hip with a strength that would surely leave bruises. He pulled you down hard onto him, and you keened. You had been more right than you realized about his size. If you thought you were full with just his fingers inside you, you were sure now that you would burst at the seams any second.

His forehead found your shoulder, and you could feel the harsh puff of his heavy breaths escaping through the thin mouth of the mask. He drew back out of you with a brutally slow pace, the head of his cock dragging over your overwrought walls and drawing a moan from your lips. He slammed back in without warning and the air was forced from your lungs. With that he was off, setting a punishing pace and preventing you from ever really catching your breath.

Every thrust forced your face harder against the wall, and you knew your cheek would be bruised by the end of this encounter. As he drilled you into the hard surface, you began to feel that same warmth coiling inside you, only this time it was approaching much more rapidly. You gasped and moaned, his name peppered into the pleased noises you were making. Before the anticipation and impatience could drive you crazy, you peeled one of your hands away from the wallpaper and let you fingers find your clit, rubbing quick circles around the bundle of nerves.

You knew Michael was getting close based on the way his fingertips dug further into the flesh of your hip and his breathing hitched. He grunted, a sound deep in his throat that was impossibly loud. Then his hand at your neck disappeared, followed by the sound of something hitting the floor behind you with a slap. Before you could be surprised or even move, his now unmasked head was pressed into the back of yours. He inhaled deeply, nose buried in your now sweat slicked hair. His lips dragged across your nape, lingering at the neckline of your shirt.

You wanted to see him, needed to see the face of the man that was fucking you like you had never experienced. You tried to push away from the wall, to turn your head. You weren’t sure if you would find that he was just as monstrous without the mask as when he had it on, or if he would look like a normal man, but you didn’t care. The curiosity was killing you.

Michael realized immediately what you were doing, and before you could catch so much as a glimpse of his features, he bit down on the back of your neck. Hard.

The feeling of his teeth on your neck, pinning you back in place more effectively than even his hand had, had you seeing stars. You yelped at the feeling, and then you clamped your eyes shut as the coil in your core burst and your orgasm ripped through you. Fireworks exploded behind your eyes and you couldn’t help but to sing his praises.

Feeling you clench around his cock seemed to renew the chase for his own release. He now had the added advantage of use of his other hand. He snaked that arm around your waist to pull your lower half even closer to his pistoning hips. His pace was even more brutal than before, and your cum soaked pussy made obscene, wet sounds that drowned out your combined heavy breathing.

You were sure his teeth broke skin when he bit down even harder. His thrusts stuttered and slowed. He growled against you and you felt warmth spilling inside you. His release was forced from your lower lips as he continued to thrust through his orgasm, trickling down your trembling thighs.

For a moment you were shocked. Not moving even as he pulled out and stepped away from you. You took a moment to slow your breathing and ignore the odd feeling of the rapidly cooling mix of your fluids and his that spilled from your entrance.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of rustling fabric. Finally, you were allowed to peel yourself away from the papered wall and turn to face him. You supposed that you shouldn’t have been surprised to find him completely put together, coveralls zipped and mask back in place, looking at you like he hadn’t just fucked the life out of you.

Your legs shook as you bent to recover your jeans and underwear, never taking your eyes off of him. You dared a glance at the knife embedded in the wall beside you. It was deep enough that you doubted you would be able to pull it out if he closed in on you. You weren’t sure what would happen next. He had had his fun and now the two of you were locked in a staring match in the middle of the hall, only you found yourself at a disadvantage since you couldn’t see his eyes.

Once you were fully clothed, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he was still blocking both the stairs and the window. You doubted that you would be able to sprint past him before he could grab you and kill you the way he had killed the others, and you weren’t too keen on a knife to the stomach.

Finally, he huffed quietly and stepped to the side, revealing the stairs to you. You looked at him with no small amount of surprised hesitancy. Was Michael really going to let you leave?

When you didn’t move, he tilted his head and gestured towards the stairs. His meaning was clear. Leave.

Afraid he would change his mind, you darted forward and bound down the steps on unsteady legs. You were still shaking and could already feel the soreness setting in. Your feet creaked over the porch and crunched across the dry grass. You spotted the hatch in the middle of the street.

As you approached it, you looked back at the house you had come from. Michael stood in the window through which you had watched him kill Claudette, as unmoving as a statue. You held his gaze for a moment. He had spared you this time. You somehow doubted it would be the same next time.

You jumped into the blackness of the yawning hatch.

[kathyprior4200]

Falling From Grace, Landing In Love (AU)

Vaggie has to make a choice to decide her fate for her afterlife. She is trained to become an Exterminator due to her personality and expertise with weapons. She is sent with the other Angels of Death to purge the citizens of Hell once every year to reduce overpopulation and induce fear in the sinners. Along the way, she meets Charlie, the princess of Hell and falls in love.

Unable to kill her or any other demons, Vaggie chooses to be with Charlie and disobeys the others. She falls from grace and lands in Hell in her current moth demon form. She is left with a harpoon weapon to defend herself and a mission. Her mission is now to spy on (mostly) Charlie and the other demons to try and get them to redeem themselves. (and also to ensure that the citizens don’t pose a threat to Heaven, God and the angels). Only when she is able to redeem herself, her girlfriend Charlie and other demons can she ascend to Heaven (or an alternate realm).

  Ascension (Vaggie)

 “Vagatha…”

  “Vagatha…”

  The sound of her name mingled with the chorus of a choir. A black void was all she could see…if she actually had vision. Floating in the darkness, no physical feeling…she didn’t appear to have a body at all.

 For a moment, she just…was.

 “Vagatha…”

 The vocalizations appeared to be coming from above. Faint rays of white light appeared, slowly reaching out. Though bright, it’s wasn’t blinding…it was light at the end of a tunnel of space and time.

The light radiated closer, and as it did, her senses sharpened.

Wait…wasn’t she…dead? Why could she perceive this event in the first place? Death meant a change into energy, a merging with the universe…at least that’s what many spiritualists believed.

Had the choir not sung out her name, she may have forgotten who she is…or was.

 Vagatha was apparently her name…she knew it sounded familiar, but also wasn’t quite right. Too formal and too long.

A shorter, better-suited version would be…

 Vaggie.

 She felt every inch of her ethereal being yell out her name, but no sound came out. It was similar to a person declaring something in their sleep, or speeches inside the mind. Repeating it, holding onto the word that could somehow connect her to what was before…and what was to come.

   The darkness was soon dispelled by the light and the whiteness around her gained the form of large puffy clouds.

 Moving forward until an unseen force froze her in her tracks, the deceased soul saw a unique sight. A slightly rusted golden gate blocked her path. A silver sign next to it read “Low Level of Heaven.”

 Heaven?

 An angel appeared next to the gate, clothed in white dress pants, a white shirt with a golden bow-tie and a pair of white feathering wings folded behind his back. Strangely enough, his face was completely white, with red blushes off to the sides on either cheek. His hair was bronze gold and short, looking white. If he hadn’t looked so serene and regal, she would’ve considered him a clown.

 He stared at her and spoke wordlessly with his golden eyes. “What’s your name?”

She knew what to say. “I am Vaggie.”

   “Vagatha Gonzales,” the angel stated, looking at a holographic list that appeared in front of him. “Formerly of Earth. El Salvadorian ancestry, born to Jeffery and Margaret on May 10th, 1992…”

The angel’s words faded in and out in a haze. She was on the brink between matter and ether. Until something snapped her into focus.

“…died in 2014 of stab wounds and homicide.”

Brief traumatic-inducing images flashed in front of her, but she couldn’t quite piece them together.

 The angel then went on naming all the good and bad deeds that Vaggie had supposedly done in her previous human life. He started off with the good:

“A hard-working individual, devoted to her values/faith. Protective of children, animals, and flying creatures: Moths in particular…”

How in Heaven and Hell could he see through her?

 And then the so-called sins…

“…harmed and maimed various racist men in the name of your family and Hispanic women…displayed lustful feelings toward other females…”

A boiling feeling of rage filled her body-less form. Her previous memories started to rush back to her. “Love, not lust! It’s who I was. Who decides what’s good and what’s bad?”

“God, the Heavenly Father,” the angel answered.

“Read my mind again. I dare you!”

“You don’t technically have one as of yet.”

“Then where’s yours? Did you lose it?”

The angel sighed. “Let’s just get through this interrogation process smoothly. I have eternity to reside here, but I’d prefer to not waste much of it on arguments.”

Vaggie fell silent. “Anything neutral about me?”

“You liked punk rock music, 80’s music, and Latino music.”

“O…kay? When I get into this place, can I listen to them?”

“If you truly get in,” the angel added. “All souls begin with an evaluation and judgement. The majority are neutral, like yourself. The evil and unfaithful get sent down to Hell. Only the heroic and legendary can reach the highest levels of Heaven and find fulfillment with God.”

Vaggie was silent again.

The angel turned red in the face and summoned a piece of paper in his hand, glancing down at it. “Or Nirvana. Or Akasha. Or becoming one with the Universe and the Higher Self,” he read. The list of other faiths went on, though Satanism and certain Pagan faiths were not included. “Man, diverse times in the mortal realm call for more accommodations around here…”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“To answer your current question,” the angel added, unfazed, “My name is Puriel. I am an examiner of souls brought to Heaven. Each soul gets one chance in Heaven at the lowest level. Those who can prove their worth can ascend to higher planes. It is a starting point for the majority of souls. Sadly, there are more that end up going to Hell, which poses a big problem.”

Puriel continued.  

“But more on that, later. And yes…other realms do exist…Enlightenment, Avalon, Summerland, the Void, etc. The lower level of Heaven is a basic starting point for the afterlife, mostly because it’s been woven into mortals’ minds for centuries. Souls are given one chance, though there are, of course, exceptions.”

Vaggie could already feel Puriel’s eyes judging her.

Puriel waved his hand and spoke an ancient incantation. Vaggie somehow understood it: “Breath is lost, a new life found, Temporary form to this soul be bound.”

 Vaggie’s new form very much resembled her previous human form…thought it was also very different. As a human, she had thick dark hair, light brown skin, and a thin but strong physique. She had gotten her muscular tone from martial arts and hard work. She frequently wore gothic outfits of black, gray and pastel pink.

 Her skin was now slightly light gray, her hair long and white with faint bands of red along the tips. A pink bow was perched on her head, like the one she enjoyed wearing as a human. Her eyes were large and the sclera orange. She wore stockings over her legs, the right one navy blue, the left one with pink stripes on it. Her white mini dress with two xs over her breasts covered the top half of her legs and exposed her light gray shoulders. She wore a blue undershirt and a tight collar around her neck. A large pink X appeared over her left eye, the same eye that had been damaged in her previous life. Vaggie’s most stunning feature was a pair of white feathery wings that materialized from golden light and emerged from her back. Her wings also had thin red bands along near the tips.

 “This is the form that appeared in your mind, so at your request, this is your usual form for the afterlife,” said Puriel. “Your redeemed form will be the one you possessed as a human.”

 “Thank you,” she replied, staring at herself. She would have to get used to her alternate form, but already it seemed fitting for her.

 Puriel spoke another incantation and several portals opened up in a row above the gate. The faces that appeared in the holes were the faces of other angels: Michael, Raphael, Haniel, Gabriel, and even some Angels of Death: Dumah, Azrael, etc.

In the very center, another portal opened, revealing six winged seraphim angels guarding a hovering throne. God Himself, appearing as an elderly man with a great white beard, gazed upon his subjects and attendants. He began to talk with the council of angels residing in different spheres of Heaven.

 Vaggie couldn’t make out the words, as they were speaking in a divine language only few had the privilege to learn.

After what felt like an eternity, God left and one by one, the angels and the portals vanished.

 Puriel turned to Vaggie.

“Your misdeeds by themselves would originally send you right to Hell, but you also have a chance to repent based on your values of justice and wisdom.”

 “You have several choices. First, you can return back to the void of nonexistence. No feeling, no memory, nothing…thus bringing balance to the universe. For what emerges from the ether must eventually return. Those who die a second time in Hell, Heaven, or any realm, will cease to exist again.”

 “Just stop with the philosophical bullshit.” Vaggie clenched her fists, eager to get past this unbearable lecture.

  “Second, you can travel to other realms and see if they’ll let you pass…though it may take a while and it’s not guaranteed. Third, you could go straight to Hell and become a demon…though it’s not recommended.”

  “…Or, if you choose to stay here…you are to become a member of our Exterminator Angels of Death. This is determined based on both your proficiency in fighting and weaponry…but also on your neutral nature overall. Though your past human actions would be considered malicious, your overall intentions were pure. Once initiated into the soldier ranks, you will need to prove yourself in order to potentially ascend to higher levels of Heaven. What say you?”

 Vaggie thought for a moment. “I want to stay in Heaven and see my family.”

 “Do you solemnly swear to serve in the name of Christ the Lord and embrace His ways and the ways of the citizens of Heaven?”

 “I accept.” A flaming white halo with little spikes through the brim appeared above Vaggie’s head. A small white arrow with the shape of a French emblem appeared in the center of the halo.

 “Close your eyes and focus,” said Puriel. “Say, ‘Saint Samael, I’m ready for duty.’”

 Vaggie did so, and she instantly transformed.

 A harpoon weapon appeared in her right hand and an LED mask in her left. Dark curved horns arched slightly past her head, her white hair vanishing under a dark hood. Her wings now sprouted black feathers which were both strong as steel and lightweight for graceful movement. In replacement of her normal outfit, she now wore a kind of black body suit with feathered gauntlets over her arms and lower legs, all black. She stared at the LED mask which displayed a glowing white eye to the left, an x in place of an eye on the right and a large glowing white grin. There appeared to be faint red stains off to the sides. Vaggie almost recoiled at the grotesque item. Hesitantly, she put on the mask and was still able to see clearly.

   “Archangel Vagatha,” Puriel said, declaring her new title. “Your fate has been decided. Your mission is to purge the demonic citizens of Hell once a year to reduce overpopulation to a set quantity. Any relationships and fraternization with the citizens of Hell is forbidden. Your training begins at twilight.”

 The gates finally opened soundlessly and Vaggie flew through. She was amazed at how she quickly got used to her wings, like they were a second pair of strong arms. Her harpoon somehow felt natural in her hands. She was half tempted to throw it at Puriel, but she knew that the mostly immortal being would not be happy.

Was he immortal? Was she immortal, even in this peculiar plane of existence?

 “And Vagatha,” warned Puriel as she briefly glanced back at his row of strangely sharp white teeth, “Break the rules of God, and you’ll fall from grace. Your halo will vanish and your wings will burn off. You will become nothing else but a demon of Hell forever.”

   Preparation (Charlie)

“Charlotte, it’s almost time for the show to begin. Hurry on down!”

A young teen demon was sitting in front of a mirror decorated with yellow eyes with black pupils along the elegant rim. She put on a dash of red lipstick while her two goat dolls, Razzle and Dazzle fixed her hair.

 “Dad!” called the blond-haired princess from inside her room, “I told you to call me Charlie! Charlotte sounds too…strange.”

“Well that’s your name, you should be used to it by now.”

 Charlie rolled her eyes and stared at her reflection: golden yellow eyes, a ghost white face with red blushes off to the side of her cheeks, razor sharp fangs when she smiled. She was so excited, she could barely sit still.

 When her attendants were done, she stood up to admire herself and her outfit. A candy red pinstriped dress nearly touched the floor and felt slightly tight around her waist. An enchanted light purple snake was wrapped around her waistline, both serving as decoration and self-defense in case of grabby onlookers. It was very similar to the snake that her father Lucifer kept around his white top hat (though both were protective of their owners thanks to Lucifer’s magic). Spider web leggings covered her pale legs and on her feet were black tap-dancing shoes. One of her feet was already moving up and down slightly. Finally, Charlie wore a black spiked crown with a red apple gem in the center.

 “My 150th birthday!” she exclaimed, doing several happy jumps. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while.”

Indeed, it had been 150 years since she had been born in Hell to the king and queen. Unlike humans, the demons hardly aged at all, or if they did, it was a very slow process. (Then again, they were already dead, so it didn’t really matter.)

 But Charlie had heard of the interesting human tradition they called “birthdays” on Earth. She insisted to her parents they had to celebrate hers once a year.

 While Lucifer had been reluctant, Lilith agreed.

“We can’t participate in that foolish human tradition,” Lucifer argued. “Especially since we aren’t alive and our people are supposed to be suffering twenty four, seven.”

“If it makes our daughter happy, then so be it,” she said. “Besides, no one else has to know. It’ll be one of our traditions.”

“Very well,” he said. “But since Charlie gets a special day of her own, why don’t we make some days special for us…if you know what I mean.”

He gave her a devilish wink and she grinned in return. “A special day for domination…I’m up for that.”

Charlie had then entered the room, asking “What’re you talking about?” and the topic was changed.

“So, about that meeting with the other overlords?” Lilith asked her husband.

“As usual, I warned them they needed to know their place.”

Rolling her eyes, Charlie had left to play the grand piano.

 “Are you coming or not?” Lucifer asked, snapping her back to reality.

“I’m ready!” she called, opening the door.

There was her father in front of her, smiling his nearly ever-present grin. Like her, he had (much shorter) blond hair, a white face, blushes on his cheeks, and yellow eyes. He wore his usual white and candy red suit, with his white top hap with a snake along the rim. A black staff appeared in his hand with the Forbidden Fruit on the top: a red apple. Lilith walked over to stand beside him, wearing an elegant red dress and her usual black crown between her red horns on her head. She had blond hair even longer than Charlie’s and was taller than Lucifer.

“Oh Charlie,” exclaimed her mother in a soft voice, “You look so beautiful! You remind me of me when I was your age.”

 Charlie embraced her mother in a happy hug. “Come on, now,” Lilith said, letting go and beckoning her to come forward. “Our guests are waiting.”

 The “guests” were actually some of Lucifer’s snakes which he reluctantly enchanted to take on the appearances of…

 “Disney Princesses and Harry Potter wizards,” Lucifer muttered in disgust. “It could’ve been wounded demons sprawling in pain on the ground like in the past…”

 Charlie walked down the curving staircase down to the lobby of her family’s mansion. The “princesses” smiled and waved at her and some threw flower petals to her (which were actually dried scales dyed pink.)

 “You know how much she doesn’t like that,” Lilith mentioned. Charlie took the stage and began to sing.

 “But those enchantments aren’t even real,” he said. “It’s one of the ways to prepare her for her future duties as Hell’s princess.”

“And what’s the other way?”

Lucifer whispered into his wife’s ear and her eyes widened in both delight and hesitation.

“Oh that’s right. Today is also that day.”

“Surely she will enjoy getting a glimpse of what happens out in the world,” Lucifer smiled.

“But…what if it’s too much for her?”

“Too, much?” Lucifer asked. “She’s 150 now. She has to be ready. It’s a growing up right of passage that cannot wait any longer.”

 They watched Charlie take a bow as her doll demons clapped.

 “Trust me,” said Lucifer. “She’ll be delighted to witness her first…”

 “Cake!” Charlie squealed. “Oh my Satan, that’s amazing!”

 A devil’s food cake was rolled and set on a table in front of her. It had chocolate frosting (per her request), spidery snakes on the top and a fat red apple candle.

 After singing to her in their deep hellish voices saved for certain occasions, Charlie pointed her clawed finger at the candle and the flame shot into the air, bursting into red apple fireworks. The noise spooked the apparitions and the regular snakes appeared once more.

For the first half of the private party, Charlie entertained her parents by demonstrating her dancing skills up on stage. For Charlie, dancing wasn’t just a hobby: it was a way of life and a method to express her deepest feelings that she couldn’t put into words. Razzle played the grand piano and Dazzle played a violin as Charlie sang.

 As the day neared its end, the clock outside rang out twelve times. In the past years, Charlie would head upstairs to her room to watch musicals while her parents went outside for some “entertainment.” Now this time, Charlie would get a chance to be with her parents.

 “It’s a special surprise, sweetie,” said Lucifer. “Since it’s a big day for you, I’d like you to follow us.”

 He said it as if it were an order. Feeling bewildered, but still very excited, Charlie let her parents led her up the elevator and toward the uppermost balcony. Razzle and Dazzle followed close behind.

Soon, the group walked onto the balcony that overlooked the crimson sky and dark clouds of hell.

 Charlie stared out into the distance as the clock tower rang one last time.

 “I don’t see anything,” she said. “Are we waiting for fireworks? Or a rainbow?”

“Silly Charlotte,” said her mother with a smile. “You’re about to witness something even better than those things.”

 “A spectacle that you’ll gladly remember for years into your rule,” her father added.

 Charlie smiled wide, until seeing a speck of something in the distance. It looked like a circle of white light that slowly grew larger into the shape of a portal.

 “Huh?” she asked.

 Lucifer smiled. “Charlotte, welcome to your first Extermination.”

 Then…a swarm of dark flying creatures burst out of the portal. The shadowy figures rained down on the city below. Charlie looked closer and could see they had black feathery wings, dark curved horns and glowing white halos on their heads. Each one carried variations of spears, harpoons and other weapons in their hands.

 “What are those things?” she asked.

“They’re angels,” said her mother.

“Angels?” she asked. “You mean like the ones in human myths?”

“No, dear,” said Lucifer, his grin wide. “These are no myths.”

 All of a sudden, one flew close by and Charlie reeled back in fright. The angel that glided past had an LED mask on with a large sinister grin and an x over its right eye. The angel threw the spear in his hand, and the weapon struck a large parrot-like demon in the heart. The bird let out a shrill squawk as it plummeted to the ground.

Charlie glanced down at the streets and let out a sharp gasp.

 Down below, demons of all shapes and sizes scattered from the onslaught of angels descending on them like hungry vultures. A demon with three heads was unfortunate enough to have a harpoon struck through all his heads, causing the creature to collapse. Two other angels were choking a red dragon demon, the creature’s eye bulging. Two hellhounds whined in pain as electricity from another spear struck them both in the backs. The bipedal canines crashed to the ground and did not move again.

Nothing but screams, robotic laughter, and carnage. The longer she watched, the more frightened Charlie became. Soon, the rotten stench of death filled her nostrils.

She glanced back at her parents casually watching the show from their chairs like it was a musical.

Tears sprang from Charlie’s eyes.

“What is all this?! Why are you showing me this?”

“It’s a yearly extermination to reduce the population of sinners once a year,” explained Lilith. It was like she was talking about the weather.

“Those are our people!” she cried. “And you’re just letting this happen?!”

“There’s no need to act so brash,” Lucifer scolded. “It’s just a natural way of ensuring that evil gets a through cleansing.”

“Cleansing? This is murder!”

“Sadly, it’s a necessary act,” Lilith added.

“As you know, I was once an angel,” said Lucifer. “I was banished down here and nearly killed myself. But then God, the angels and myself came to an agreement. The Exterminators could kill citizens in Hell once every year, while we, the royal family, would be left alone. It does make sense, considering we are the most powerful individuals here.”

Charlie took several ragged breaths. “What’s so special about us? What about them?!” She pointed down toward the fleeing demons rushing into cars, stores, and even dumpsters to try and get away. Down over at the poor section of Imp City, the imps were even less lucky. The one ones who could escape were ones with enough proficiency to create small portals or to shapeshift into Exterminators to trick them.

 “This is Hell, Charlotte,” Lucifer said, eyes narrowing in frustration. “Suffering is what those lowlife scum deserve to experience. Just be lucky that we don’t have to deal with that.”

 “Vaggie,” Charlie breathed almost in a whisper, already concerned about her friend.

 “Now stop fooling around and embrace this momentous occasion,” said Lucifer.

 “No,” Charlie said.

“Excuse me?” asked Lucifer, eyebrows raised.

“NO!” she cried, tears running down her face. Her eyes turned red and her long horns emerged from her head. “I’m not gonna sit here and let more of my people die. I can’t believe you hid this from me all these years!”

 Charlie summoned Razzle and Dazzle and the two goats lifted her up and carried her down to the streets.

 “GET BACK HERE AT ONCE!” Lucifer bellowed.

Ignoring her father, Charlie landed down on the cracked asphalt, nearly stepping on a severed horned demon head. Razzle and Dazzle hovered nearby.

She saw three angels corner a frightened cat demon with a spotted brown face who held her paws up. Spears pointed toward her head and heart, the feline gave one last sorrowful meow.

“HEY!” Charlie bellowed in her demonic voice. She was seeing red. Her black shoes clacked against the pavement. “STAY AWAY FROM MY PEOPLE!”

The three angels turned at the same time, their eyes glowing red and teeth spread out when spotting her. The cat demon scurried up the wall with her claws and leaped from roof to roof out of sight.

 Flames receding from her body, horns shrinking back, Charlie backed up in fear and gulped as the angels advanced, their weapons at the ready. Razzle and Dazzle shuddered and held on tightly to Charlie’s hands. Just as the angels threw the spears and Charlie closed her eyes…

 She heard a sickening thud.

The spears had struck a pair of black fiery wings. The spears vanished in flames before flaming swords materialized out of thin air. The angels were struck by the swords, causing them to back up.

Lucifer’s eyes were red, his temporary black wings made from his enchanted snakes merged together.

“LEAVE.”

His demonic voice could stop the heartbeats of an entire group.

 Charlie slowly stood up once the angels had retreated and stared into Lucifer’s glowing red eyes. He slowly turned his head toward her. Though he was furious with her, she could see a small tear roll down his cheek before being evaporated by the heat.

“IF YOU EVER DO SOMETHING FOOLISH LIKE THAT AGAIN, I’LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER LEAVE OUR MANSION. YOU WILL BE GROUNDED UNTIL THIS PLACE FREEZES OVER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

Charlie nodded with a whimper.

“YOU WILL ACCEPT YOUR ROLE WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT.”

 Charlie glanced over toward a group of demons and gasped. As her father raised his hand toward her, something inside Charlie stirred. A peculiar feeling in her temple, just between her eyes began to tingle with warmth. It was almost as if time stood still.

 When Charlie stared hard at the three homeless demons from a distance, she could almost see their faces briefly morph into their formerly human ones from their past lives: a white skinned bearded man with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, a mother with a cut-up face in torn prostitute clothing, a sobbing blonde boy in the mother’s lap just learning how to use a gun…

 Before Charlie could say anything, a glowing magenta pentagram surrounded her and she was transported back to her room with Razzle and Dazzle.

   Progression (Vaggie)

Vaggie couldn’t believe her eyes. Being so overwhelmed the day before with dying and becoming an Exterminator, she hardly had time to admire the shimmering city in the clouds.

 But now, as she made her way to the armory for her training session, she couldn’t help but stare in wonder.

 The architecture of the buildings ranged from Victorian mansions, to modern tech buildings made of glass and metal, to grand temples made of gold and silver, devoted to various gods, but mostly to Jesus. The streets were spotless and the roads were made of polished obsidian that was always smooth. Solar panels lay on every roof, powered by the sun. In the center of Holy City stood a mighty cathedral made of marble, reminiscent of Notre Dame. Several roman-style fountains were scattered around the city. One was a statue of Mary and Jesus as a little boy.

 Looming like Mount Olympus stood God’s palace, made of gold and precious stones, the gates made of indestructible diamond. A nearby garden connected to the palace housed the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge, guarded by several angels and a golden dragon.

 What was perhaps more intriguing were the citizens themselves. Some of them resembled typical white-winged angels: blonde or light colored hair, pale white faces with red blushes on their cheeks and yellow soulful eyes. Ironically, many of them had razor sharp teeth. The clothing they wore varied just as much as the outfits in Hell, coming from many periods throughout time. She noticed a dozen different ones: Roman tunics, medieval dresses and suits of armor, Egyptian clothing made of silk, top hats and suits from the 1900s. Some of the more casual people even wore modern jeans and t-shirts.

 Like in Hell, other angels had characteristics of animals and items. Vaggie spotted men with dove wings, women with white swan feathers for hair, and dozens of bipedal cats and dogs getting along just fine. A few other angels had heads of flowers and some had the heads of lyres, trumpets, and other musical instruments. None of them had to worry about falling; they could either fly or walk on air. There were several mythical creatures as well, including dragons, a few unicorns, fairies, and Thunderbirds.

 Several angels were in a circle in the sky, dancing the kumbaya and singing prayers while holding hands. Vaggie felt some nostalgia, remembering when she would wear brightly colored festival dresses for Cumbia dances and family events. She remembered dancing with her parents and extended family as upbeat Hispanic music played. How she longed for the taste of steamy quesadillas and juicy fresh fruit.

 Just where were her parents? And how safe could she really feel, even in paradise? The last thing Vaggie needed was to be gang-raped and murdered a second time by a bunch of beastly homophobic men.

  In the city around her, angels worked in ordinary jobs, especially in churches. There were also a few mosques, Buddhist temples and synagogues, but paled in comparison to the number of Christian places of worship. Volunteers and charity workers labored by the dozens, sending out food, blessings and miracles to the homeless and those residing in the lower levels of Heaven.

 Already, Vaggie was feeling like some sort of outsider.

 A small portal opened up to another heaven next door. Vaggie could see a glass building with bluish stained glass windows and classic art inside. A large sign on the roof read “Haven Hotel.” A bunch of angels were lining up and receiving white-winged keys in their hands. The portal closed before Vaggie could observe further.

 Soon, Vaggie reached the armory, a building shaped like a small white fortress. She stood at attention next to several angels, already fitted in their black Exterminator uniforms, black wings and LED masks. Vaggie looked and saw two muscular angels carry out a brown chest with planetary symbols on it. They opened it up and there lay dozens of sharpened harpoons, spears, and swords in neat rows. They were new weapons to be used for the time after the Purge in the next year. After a brief prayer, the recruits were called up in alphabetical order by a slender angel with long blonde hair and a light blue suit to retrieve a weapon of their choice. Gabriel stood next to Samael, the leader of the Archangels. He had red/brown curly hair and pulled out the flaming sword weapon he already had. Michael, another Archangel Leader, held a sword of his own: Excalibur, the weapon that defeated Lucifer. Raphael, the healer angel with long brown hair stood in the distance to watch.

 Samael called out the names of both new and old warriors one by one.

 “Azrael.”

Azrael was the first angel. He strode up and picked out a scythe, then pulled a hood over his head of long dark hair.

 “Camael. Cassiel. Dumah. Haniel. Hafineal. Israfil. Jegudiel. Jerahmael. Japhiel.”

 Vaggie yawned.

 “Kepherel. Munkar and Nakir. Metatron. Raguel. Ramiel. Raziel. Sandalphon. Sarathiel. Selaphiel.”

 The list went on and on.

 “Uriel. Uziel. Zachariel. Zadkiel. Zaphael. Zephaiel.”

 Finally Samael said “Vagathaiel…um, Vagatha? Is that right?”

 Vaggie looked up. “It’s Vaggie.”

 “Right. Come on up.”

Vaggie strode forward, ignoring the murmurs and whispers of her colleagues. It was embarrassing enough to be the last one chosen on accident, not to mention the only female angel in the group.

 Vaggie picked up the only weapon left in the chest, a harpoon spear. It felt good in her hands…like she was meant to wield it. Vaggie walked back to stand next to an angel with blonde unruly short hair, dressed in white.

“I’m Sam,” said the angel. “Many people call me Samael, but the real one is up there.”

 He mentioned to the lead Angel of Death: Samael. He had long flaming red hair, a white face, and crimson eyes. A scar ran along his neck. He enjoyed tormenting sinners more than anyone. He morphed into Exterminator form.

 “Welcome to training session and orientation. After our recent successful Extermination, it is now time to review what went well and discuss methods to increase efficiency.”

 Vaggie and the others flew thirty laps around a group of clouds then sat down for a lecture. The lecture covered Heaven’s history, Exterminator origins and the fall of Lucifer.

 For the next half, Vaggie practiced on using her weapon. She threw her harpoon at a demon training dummy at various distances. She worked on blocking, stances, aim, and flying patterns. At other times, she worked with other angels in a group.

 “Strike the head, between the eyes, the chest, abdomen and back,” Samael advised as he walked, observing the practicing soldiers. “Never get too close to some demons: their bites are venomous.” To others: “Swipe your weapon at the legs to trip your enemy. Keep a firm grip on your weapon. Follow orders and stick with at least two other angels during a raid.”

He continued: “If not enough demons are exterminated, then you all will have to repent for your failure of duty for three to seven days. Excitement of Ten Commandments, community service, fasting etc. Yes, I know we are all dead, but that doesn’t matter to the All Mighty Yahweh. Serve Him and happiness will serve you.” Samael showed a row of sharp teeth and a few angels flinched. “If you kill too many and linger too long and the portals will close and you’ll be trapped in Hell for a year. Either way, the demons must know their place, least they feel the need to bring war to Heaven.”

 He glared and stopped where Vaggie was.

 “Vagatha, your stance is way off. You need to spin faster when attacking multiple demons at once. Let your instincts move your body. And show less mercy to them or you’ll be begging for some during flogging, flying laps and scrubbing!”

Vaggie worked harder, feeling the pressures of this strange Heaven boot camp that felt like a living Hell.

After the intense training, they reviewed the Nine Circles of Hell, the seven sins and the seven virtues.

Vaggie was glad when the session was over at the start of twilight. Fortunately, she only had to attend six long days every other week (Sunday was rest day), as soldiers went on shifts. Walking into her designated home, Vaggie took off her uniform and tossed the mask aside, the creepy grin face staring at the ceiling. She concentrated, clearing her mind and the uniform appeared back on. Focusing again, the uniform came off next to her. She placed her weapon against the wall, not too far from reach. She lay down on a comfortable bed in a small house, which looked like the place she lived in when she was a human. In fact, other angels were living in different spots, in places that resembled their environment in their past lives. Colorful dresses and gothic outfits were neatly folded in nearby drawers. Punk rock posters from 90s bands were already hung up in her room. All of her favorites: Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters, Green Day, Blink 182. A nearby iPod had those songs along with Cumbia, Salsa, Reggae and other music from her parent’s home country.

 Vaggie was starting to feel creeped out. Everything seemed…too perfect. The room was mocking her, displaying her favorite things from her past…even an exact replica of a portrait of her and her parents! Her mother and father, both with dark hair, wearing practical clothing. Her as a little girl with light brown skin, long black hair, and both of her brown eyes. Her birth certificate was even in another drawer: “Vagatha Gonzales, New Mexico, May 10 1992 to September 11 2014. Age 22.”

 She sobbed.

She screamed.

 She ripped out chunks of her long white hair.

  “My life…or death is not the same anyone! I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like it is. Fuck you!” she yelled to no one in particular.

Vaggie sighed in exhaustion. She wasn’t sure what would happen next. She missed her parents and her previous girlfriend. She missed music and soccer and martial arts. If only she could go back to worrying about jobs and kicking douchebag boys in the nuts. She never asked to be an Angel of Death with a possibility of going to Hell.

 She buried her face in her hands. “What have I gotten myself into?”

   Contemplation (Charlie)

The young demon princess lay down on her queen-size bed, complete with an apple-shaped headboard, velvet red sheets and matching curtains. Her room was a blend of a vampire’s room and a little girl’s room: among the spider webs and skulls along a dresser were drawings of unicorns and bottles of makeup. Drawings of demons holding hands hung from old branches sticking out from inside the wall. One drawing showed a smiling Charlie and Vaggie in between her parents. Scattered among the dark red walls were rainbow paint splotches and a painted sketch of a flower. A typed motto of “Don’t worry, be happy” was taped to the side of a mirror.

 But on this particular day, the usually happy-go-lucky girl found it hard to be positive.

 “He…called me a failure,” she said softly. Razzle and Dazzle nudged her head affectionately, their faces full of concern.

“Just before sending me here,” Charlie said. She stared at a crumpled piece of paper with her drawing of a hotel on it. The sign read “Happy Hotel” but the page was ripped thanks to Lucifer’s accusing claw tearing through it.

 He had paced back and forth, clearly frustrated. “Ever since your foolish fiasco on your birthday last week, you’ve been…shall I say…frying my nerves with your random ideas.”

“What’s bad about a hotel that redeems sinners?” Charlie had asked.

“I’ll tell you what’s bad about it…everything! First, there is no hope for those low-class demon trash. They were sent down here for a reason; because there’s no chance for them to ever change their ways.”

“Dad, that’s not true…”

“Second,” he interrupted, “You’re supposed to keep up an important reputation as heir to the throne. No one will take you seriously again if you blab on and on about some fantasy you insist upon.”

“It can be true, though!” Charlie replied. “I’ve seen what those demons are like. Sure, they did bad things, but everyone deserves a second chance.”

“There are some people who don’t get second chances,” Lucifer answered, with a faraway look in his eyes. “And that also applies to those people out there. It’s just the way afterlife works, Charlotte.”

“What if, it doesn’t have to always be that way? There is a more humane way of reducing overpopulation without all the senseless slaughtering…”

“There is no other way!” Lucifer said, raising his voice. Charlie flinched back a bit. “If hell becomes overcrowded, then God and the Angels will not hesitate to eliminate the threat: us.”

He paused. The king hadn’t considered the possibility of a second death before…the final journey to the void.

“Dad, listen, I know it sounds far-fetched, but I’m confident that my idea will work. I just need to spread the word about the Happy Hotel.”

“And embarrass yourself and our legacy? Along with putting yourself in danger?!”

“I can defend myself, easily!”

“You may be powerful, but this place crawls with overlords and who knows what else that will kill you.”

“But we’re already dead.”

“No. I was born an angel, near immortal. You were born here in Hell. If you want to be able to have a stable future here, you will stop with your nonsense.”

“I’m not going to give up. I know there’s a rainbow inside every demonic soul. I’ve seen…”

She hesitated, debating on whether to tell him about the anguished human faces she had seen during the last purge.  

“…humanity,” she finished.

As if reading her mind, Lucifer leaned in close, flames in his yellow eyes. “Do not think like an inferior human mortal. Humans are nothing but temporary bland prototypes to demons. All arrogant, not worthy of divine respect.”

“Have you even met a human?”

“I’ve learned enough about them to stick to my conclusion.”

“Many humans are good, just like other demons can be. Demons, after all, used to be human! Maybe they can become human again.  Redeemed souls will be sent to Heaven and everybody wins! No more killings, no more sorrow. Enough with the “us versus them” speech. You will join me in paradise, Dad, then you’ll see.”

Lucifer growled, and flicked his daughter backward across the hall with his power. She landed on her butt and back with a surprised yelp of pain, as Razzle and Dazzle lifted her up off the floor.

 “THERE IS NO PARIDISE FOR ME,” he boomed in his deep demonic voice, eyes red. It sent chills up Charlie’s spine. “NO HAPPY ENDING FOR ANYONE.” He sighed heavily. “The sooner you realize that, the better. You and the other demons will never leave Hell, I’ll make sure of it.”

Charlie’s mind began to whirl. What did he mean by that?

 Charlie began to speak but her father held up a hand. “Not another word. One thing is for certain: based on your actions thus far, you are nothing but a failure.”

Tears pooled in Charlie’s eyes. “You…you don’t mean that, do you?”

Lucifer pointed toward Charlie’s room and then looked away. “Get…get out of my sight.”

Charlie could only stand frozen in disbelief and sadness as her father departed down the hall, staff in hand.

  After tossing the worn paper aside, Charlie turned around and sobbed into her pillow. Later on, she sang a lament while walking to her balcony outside. Razzle and Dazzle even howled mournfully with her as she sang. It was the only way for her to truly express herself and let out her emotions.

   “Why am I such a failure?

It always seems to be

Destined for the throne, yet I feel so alone

What is truly best for me?”

 “Happiness lies at the end of the rainbow

Feeling like that’s the place to go

An endless distance, out of reach here

Lost in emptiness, foreshadowing fear”

 “Inside of every demon is a soul (is a soul)

Trapped by events beyond their control (their control)

I try to help and brighten their day (to find their way)

But my hopes and dreams fade far away”

 “Seeing the light in the darkness

In this world I’m blind

I wonder why I cling to hope

For those cruel and unkind”

 “Goodness beneath the surface

Redemption beyond the mask

What is my role, my purpose?

How can I complete my task?”

 “Peace, love, is all I ask

(Oooh, oooh, oooh)

Peace and love, is all I ask

(Oooh, oooh, oooh)

All I ask…”

 “Inside of every demon is a soul (is a soul)

Trapped by events beyond their control (their control)

I try to help and brighten their day (to find their way)

But my hopes and dreams fade far away”

  Extermination (Vaggie)

 It was now time for Vaggie to put her skills she had learned to the test. One year had passed and the time for the Purge was upon her. Despite being a newbie in comparison with everyone else, Vaggie had become one of the best fighters among the Exterminators. The fateful day soon came, and Vaggie lined up in position with the other Archangels. All dressed in black. Vaggie’s harpoon was in her right hand. She had requested that her wings stay white, with the red line through them like her hair. Although she didn’t like to think of herself as a murderer, she told herself that it was for the greater good. Sinners would get what they deserved and balance and cleansing would be brought to Hell.

 The angels all saluted when Samael strutted over. He had a black scythe in his hand, black flames rising from the blade. His red hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, his dark uniform, horns and mask ready for use. He walked over to Vaggie, approval in his eyes. “Your dedication to the Lord has been commendable. You’ve adapted well from your previous novice status. As such, I now assign you with an additional task.”

 He continued, “You are to spy on Hell’s princess Charlotte, find her, and make her surrender to us. Be wary of her pyro kinetic powers. If she does not comply, you are to kill her on sight before the days end.”

 Vaggie silently gulped as she saluted.

 “But,” Samael added. “Don’t forget about the other demons. And…do not try to reason with Lucifer. The traitor and his promiscuous queen sealed their fates long ago.”

 “Yes sir,” said Vaggie.

 Samael nodded and walked toward the front to address the winged assassins.

“Remember to aim for the head, chest, groin and pressure points. Show no mercy to anyone or anything. May the Lord bless you and all your endeavors. The Father, Son and Holy Spirit will reside in our souls always. May He deliver us from all evil. Amen.”

 “Amen!” the angels repeated.

 Michael waved Excalibur and a round portal to Hell appeared against the white clouds. Samael led the way and the angels filed through, Vaggie following close behind.

   Vaggie descended into the crimson chaotic world. The Big Ben-like clock tower rang twelve times, the *BONG* *BONG* rings echoing like hell’s bells of doom. The citizens screamed and scattered and scurried in the streets below. The angels were black vultures, circling around their prey. The thrust their spears forward. One angel managed to stab through two chubby orange demons like a gruesome shish kabab. Another demon in a black and white stripped outfit fired a gun at an angel to no effect. The demon teased the angel by appearing and disappearing around him. The trickster’s antics were cut short by a well-fired bolt of electricity through the demon. Two spears crisscrossed through the paralyzed frazzled demon, finishing him off for good.

 Vaggie flew down and landed on the ground, stomping after other demons. One demon climbed up a tree, Vaggie followed it, lifting herself up, spear in her mouth and swinging up the branches. She sliced off the demon’s blue head then landed gracefully on the ground on one knee. Standing up, she spotted a red vampire with black wings. She threw her spear and the creature was struck down in a splash of blood. Retrieving her spear, she attacked other demons that got too close…or ones who ran in her line of sight.

 “CLEANSE! CLEANSE! CLEANSE!” The chants rang out like a constant war cry.  A demon held a sign that read “Fuck you, Heaven!” in large red letters. Nearby, demons with six arms held up protest signs which displayed hellish slogans on them: “God spelled backwards is Dog!” “Hail Lord Lucifer, our true savior!” “Salvation, Sex, Substances, and Slaying.” “Asshole Archangels Suck Dick!” “Go Home Jesus, We’re Drunk As Shit!”

  Vaggie quickly made short gory work of them.

 Then, Vaggie saw some things that made her freeze. A green frog demon was nursing a wounded doll child back to health. A long dark green snake demon hung motionless from a streetlight, looking like a piece of thick string in the shadows. Whining could be heard from a gray teenage hellhound wearing a black tank top in the middle of a road. She was kneeling next to the furry corpse of her hellhound boyfriend. She lifted up her head and howled in sorrow. Small mouse demons scampered away in fright when they saw Vaggie.

Vaggie stared at her bloodstained hands. “Have I truly become a remorseless monster?”

 “CLEANSE! CLEANSE! CLEANSE!” The shouts pounded through the dark among the sounds of breaking glass, screeching cars, demonic laugher and the flickering of flames.

 Vaggie’s gut clenched. There was no way she could kill these souls. They did bad things, yes…but surely there was still some light in them. “I never fully believed all they taught me,” she thought. Heaven isn’t perfect at all. It’s ignorant and exclusionary! How could I have followed through with that for so long?”

 Around midway through the Purge, Vaggie finally spotted the person she was looking for. The demon princess with her long curly blond hair and pal face was looking forlornly from a balcony. She was wearing a red Victorian style dress with apple designs along the ends of the long dress.

Clearing her throat, Vaggie flapped over to her, spear at the ready. The girl’s eyes grew wide as she approached. Vaggie’s outfit morphed from plain black to an elongated version of her usual stripped leggings and white tank top with Xs over her breasts. Still, she kept her mask on, her horns extended in slight curves. The girl turned to run, but Vaggie waved her hand and the doors locked. She spoke in an emotionless voice, “Princess Charlotte.”

“W-what do you want?” Charlie asked, her voice tremoring in fear.

“I have arrived here on behalf of my leaders and the word of God. You are to surrender yourself peacefully and come with me. You are now an official prisoner of Heaven.”

Tears welled up in Charlie’s yellow eyes. “N-no! I can’t leave Hell and my people. I can’t leave my family!”

“I will resort to physical force if necessary.”

Flames erupted around Charlie and her straight black horns protruded from her head. No other words were needed to get the intention across.

Vaggie raised her spear. “If you won’t come with me…then perish!”

Charlie flinched back. “Leave me alone and hear me out!”

 Vaggie stared longer at Charlie. She lowered her weapon. She wasn’t allowed to feel emotion for any demon, let alone the princess of Hell.

 But this…peculiar feeling of warmth…was something new. Like a trace of her humanity was rising to the surface.

 Charlie stood up, breathing a small sigh of relief.

“I don’t want my people to be slaughtered every year. It truly breaks my heart. I know there’s good in everyone…including you.”

Vaggie lowered her head.

Charlie continued. “I am proposing a way to redeem sinners by introducing a new hotel to help them reform.”

She mentioned to the building she was in, the one with the sign that read “Happy Hotel” in large pink lit up letters on the roof.

“I’ve tried for months but no one listens to me. It’s like I don’t really belong here. If you believe that there’s a soul in everyone…if you have a heart…”

 Vaggie stood, conflicted. She had been taught to ignore pleas and cries of mercy. But this was different. It appeared that Charlie felt like an outcast as well…

…and the rare humanity that she showed, despite her status as the daughter of Satan himself.

“I…I…can’t do it!”

She dropped her spear and collapsed to her knees.

 Transformation (Charlie)

 Charlie did all she could to promote her hotel. Nobody would listen. No matter how many songs she sung, art she created or speeches she made, she’d always be ignored, taunted, ridiculed or even threatened. Food would be thrown at her as demons booed. Her rival Hesla called her a crazed Barbie bitch. Aaron von Eldritch, her former tall green boyfriend, son of Helsa, told her to get a grip and to “start being the pretty, polite, and passive princess she was before.” Out of a new desire to be with a caring woman partner, Charlie broke up with him. Her parents were not pleased.

 Lucifer was vivid when he heard the news. “You’ve just severed a valuable alliance with the Eldriches. Now they’re our rivals. We can’t afford to have more competition against us than we already have. A family like theirs could easily turn the tides against us when they badmouth us to our citizens!”

 Lilith was disappointed as well and a little surprised with her daughter. “You want to date girls now?” she asked. “How will you raise your heir in the next two centuries?”

 “Yes,” Charlie said. “I love both men and women. I don’t see what the problem is.”

 The only one who’s the problem is you,” Lucifer seethed. “You’ve never done anything right for so long and, frankly, I’m getting tired of your teenage nonsense. Break away from your petty fantasies, stop tainting our legacy…” his eyes turned red, voice lowered… “And… Grow. The. Fuck. Up.”

Charlie raced into her room, crying fresh tears as she wondered over to the balcony. Lilith was chiding her husband in a harsh voice over how hard he was on her. Charlie looked away when she heard the clock ring out.

 Now here she was, with an Exterminator angel sobbing at her feet.

Charlie stared as the angel slowly stood up, picked up her spear, and then removed her mask. A beautiful angelic face appeared, light gray skin, long white hair, a yellow eye, and white shimmering wings. “I am Vaggie, but people call me Vagatha.”

“I am Charlie, but people call me Charlotte.”

“It sounds too formal,” they both said at the same time.

They looked at each other some more, surprised to find they had so much in common on their first meeting day.

Vaggie spoke up. “I was sent here to restrain you or kill you so you wouldn’t be a threat to Heaven. But now…that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“So…you’re not going to kill me?” Charlie asked.

Just then, Samael spoke telepathically to Vaggie. “Based on my observations, the princess cannot be reckoned with. Exterminate her and return to the portal. Over.”

Vaggie gulped.

“What’s wrong?” asked Charlie.

Vaggie looked around frantically. A few other angels stood in mid- air, watching her and waiting to see what she would do next.

“I really can’t do it…” Vaggie said, her body shaking. Charlie comforted her with an embrace. Vaggie stood, stunned, but briefly returned it. Both of them were bonding…and gradually falling in love.

Samael’s voice rang through her mind, making her flinch back. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, VAGATHA?! FINISH HER OFF AND RECONVENE WITH YOUR ASSOCIATES AT ONCE!”

Vaggie put her mask back on and stepped back. “I promise, Charlie, I will do whatever I can to help you out. Everyone deserves second chances.” She flew off.

   Damnation (Vaggie)

Vaggie flew toward the open portal. The angels turned their heads and their eyes glowed red. Samael pulled out his black scythe. Vaggie stood in front of him.

Samael pointed behind her. “Get back down there if you know what’s good for you. Kill her, or I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” said Vaggie.

 Vaggie couldn’t believe the word flew out of her mouth. Her thoughts were faster than common sense. Vaggie could no longer hide behind the metaphorical mask of indifference, nor her physical mask over her face. Vaggie took off the black abomination and tossed it to the ground far below.

Samael’s eyes gleamed dangerously red. “What did you just say?”

Vaggie pushed down her fear. “I said, NO!”

Samael growled, showing sharp teeth. “You dare disobey a direct order given to you?”

Vaggie pointed down to Charlie on the balcony. “Charlie wants to rehabilitate sinners and bring them to Heaven! Why should I stop her from pursuing such a merciful goal?”

 Samael leaned in. “You should know that we do not accept any sinners. They are inferior to us, plotting our destruction at every moment. Even God has limits on who He can let in.”

 Vaggie clenched her fists. “But that’s not just! Slaughtering people without giving them a second chance. I’ve seen bad demons, yes, but others are just innocent families that are poor shadows of who they once were on Earth. Whatever happened to “love thy neighbor?” “Love thine enemy?” Why would God just turn people away?”

“Because,” Samael stated, “They’re monstrous scum. Filthy bugs and maggots who need to be eliminated. They’ll kill us all if their numbers are too great.”

 Vaggie shook her head. “Charlie has shown more humanity in her soul than anyone I’ve met. And I’ve only just met her today!” Vaggie stood, defiant and filled with a new purpose. “I refuse to continue with my mission.” But her confidence wavered as more red eyed, angels closed in on her. “Blasphemy…mutiny…” they muttered, emotionless behind creepy grinning masks. One by one, they pointed their weapons at her.  

If you won’t obey the will of Christ and God…” Samael held out his hand…”then you’ll burn in Hell just like the rest!”

 From down below, Charlie gasped in terror. Vaggie screamed in agony as her gray skin peeled away in chunks. Her spiked white halo broke in little pieces above her head. Her horns and dark uniform vanished. Worst of all, her beautiful white wings rapidly caught fire, burning off feathers that flew to the ground, some stained with blood. Soon her wings were completely burned away, the remains turning into streams of multicolored light that vanished.

Vaggie plummeted to the ground with loud screams, spear still clutched in her hand.

“Vaggie!” Charlie cried.

Samael rushed at Charlie at lightning speed, weapon raised, but someone else was faster.

Lucifer landed a punch that sent Samael flying backwards in an arch. He flew after the angel with six black wings that materialized from his body. His eyes glowed demonic red. He spoke in a deep voice that shook the ground and seeded sheer terror to anyone who heard it.

“NO ONE TOUCHES MY DEAR DAUGHTER! RUN YOU COWARDLY PIECE OF SHIT, OR I’LL DESTROY YOU WITH A FLICK OF MY FINGERS!”

Samael and the angels retreated into the portal and it soon closed.

“This isn’t over, Lucifer!” came Michael’s voice before the portal completely snapped shut.

Charlie jumped off the balcony, her body surrounded by flames. She caught Vaggie before she hit the ground.

 Vaggie opened her eyes, now in base demon form, a large pink X over her left eye. White tank top and leggings, back to regular size. She gave Charlie a sad smile before passing out.

 Restoration (Charlie)

Vaggie woke up in a comfortable bed in the Happy Hotel. She opened her eyes and saw Charlie standing nearby. Her back and hands were bandaged up, her hair spread apart like resting moth wings.

“Charlie?” she grumbled.

“Yes, I’m here,” said Charlie sounding relieved.

“Thank you for saving me like that,” Vaggie said. “But…why would you do that? I’m your enemy.”

“Not any more. You’re my new friend,” Charlie mentioned. “I don’t want anyone to suffer, not even one of the Exterminators.”

Vaggie sighed, feeling her back. It felt naked and vulnerable without her wings.

“Well, I’m not anymore.” She glanced at her spear, leaning against the wall. “But at least I still have my spear. I think they let me keep it in the hopes I would repent and kill more demons. Which won’t happen,” she added. “But make no mistake. I will strike anyone down who lays a harmful hand on you. You’re too good for this world. Me though…I’ll never be redeemed.”

Charlie smiled and placed a small kiss on Vaggie’s head. She picked up a discarded pink bow and put it on Vaggie’s head of white hair. “You can redeem yourself,” Charlie said. “By helping others redeem themselves. Help me with this hotel. This is your new destiny. Our new destiny. We can live a new afterlife together, and we can get through whatever comes at us.”

Vaggie believed her words with all her soul. Then she glanced down, sadly.

“What is it?” Charlie asked.

“I didn’t get to see my family in Heaven.”

“I’m sorry,” said Charlie. “You must miss them. You were human once, right?”

Vaggie nodded.

“I was born here in Hell, but I can understand how you must feel. I promise we can make things right for both worlds. I’ve seen for myself that humanity can exist even in the blackest hearts.”

Vaggie sighed. “Not sure if I can agree with that part, but let’s see how it goes. You’ll need me to keep you grounded.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me, I’m still grounded by my parents. I broke up with this guy and challenged my parents’ opinions.”

“Do you feel guilty about it?” Vaggie asked.

“Sometimes I do,” Charlie admitted.

Then she squeezed Vaggie’s hand affectionately. Vaggie squeezed back. “But for now, I wouldn’t have this moment any other way.”

Vaggie laughed. “What do you see in the future, crazy girl?”

Charlie just smiled. “Rainbows inside every demon.”

[shirtlesssammy]

14x18: Absence

Then:

This show is toying with our lives, all for the sake of narrative symmetry.

Now:

Sam and Dean are back at the bunker with no Mary or Jack in sight. One beer and some ironic praising of Jack later, Dean tries calling Mary, only to find her cell ringing from another room. “Try Jack,” Sam suggests.

Several calls to everyone else that will probably be dead by the end of this show (I’m in a dark place right now, guys) later, their one lead is with Rowena. She has a spell that might track Jack and Mary. Cas calls Dean back and confesses his concerns about Mary being alone with Jack. He’s concerned that Jack isn’t ok, and then tells Dean about Jack mercy killing Felix. Dean’s already in hyper-freaked out mode so he doesn’t take Cas’s revelation too well. And by that I mean he hangs up on Cas. Good job, Dean, dealing with your emotions like an adult human.

Anyway, they need to find Jack, asap. Sam brainstorms the idea of tracking Jack’s cell phone. They quickly realize that he’s flying all over the world.

Jack eventually ends up back at the cabin, his battery almost dead.

He flashes back to memories of his time with Mary. The flashbacks are all in black and white and there’s just a brief flash of yellow/orange between them and present day (v. cool.) While Jack remembers Mary, he’s visited by his very own Hallucifer. UGH. Although, while I didn’t put it together on the first watch, I feel like watching Jack being tormented by his devil father shows that Jack’s soul is not gone. He is in complete anguish about Mary throughout this episode --not something someone without a soul feels. Anyway, the dark part of Jack’s mind tells him to accept what he did. Jack insists that it was an accident, but the devil on his metaphorical shoulder tells him to tell Sam and Dean that --see how far that gets him.

He plays with Jack’s emotions to the point that Jack blasts him away. Oh, Jack.

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean are on their way to the cabin. Cas is going to meet them there. Sam tries to reason away Jack killing Felix. “Really, with the snake?” OH MY GOD. I feel like Dean has TOO MANY emotions and they’ve all bottlenecked and can’t get out so he’s gone into angry reactive mode and I do. Not. Like.

Once at the cabin, Sam finds the burnt corpse of Nick, and Dean, well, Dean finds a barren blast site of ash and nothing.

We cut to Cas, alone in his truck, flashing back to a memory of Mary and him soon after she came back. They were hunting together (despite the brothers believing she needed space to process her new world order). Ah, it’s quite a touching moment between the two of them and I’m getting sadder the more I watch.

For Sadness Science:

Especially this exchange:

Cas: I know you know this, Mary, but Sam and Dean, they’re glad to have you back. Whatever you still have to deal with and however long it takes, you should know they’re happy. Finally they don’t have to be so… so alone.

Mary: Castiel, they were never alone.

Mary’s words echo in Cas’s mind as he leaves his car to meet up with Sam and Dean. Once in the cabin, he finds Sam and Dean (who turns his back on him! Gah) and the charred remains of Nick. Dean insistes that they don’t know what happened, but if Jack did something to Mary --he looks at Cas and utters the words that will forever scar my heart: “Then you’re dead to me.” Cas takes Dean’s anger stoically, while Sam tries to reason with him. I mean, clearly, Dean’s anger isn’t at Cas, it’s at himself, at the circumstances, at the possible thought that he’s lost his mother AGAIN. (although this post by @tinkdw rings true and fits the lack of communication issues these two have had for some time now.)

Anyway, Cas gives his speech about Jack and his faith in him--and he’s using past tense!-- and I’m not ok. When Cas’s voice breaks at “We were a family and I didn’t want to lose that.”??? Bury me in a ma’lak box in the sea, guys.

Rowena calls. It’s nice to see that as Dean and Cas are breaking up, Sam and Rowena still are able to communicate. <3 <3 <3 Rowena can’t get a handle on Jack. “And Mom?” Sam wonders. “I don’t know what happened, or where she is, but I can tell you with certainty, Mary Winchester is no longer on this earth.” Fuuuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkk. Cue Dean breaking a chair in 3-2-1…

Sam wants to know what they should do. “We fight. We fight to bring them back.” Dean wants Rowena to resurrect her. (Listen, I’ve read Pet Semetary...uh.) He barks at Cas to go to heaven and locate Mary. Sam and Dean are heading to Rowena’s place.  

We cut to Rowena working her magic, and folks, she is a sight.

There’s a knock at her door, and it’s Jack! Rowena offers to call Sam and Dean and Jack instantly shuts that down. He admits that he killed Mary and it was an accident. He needs Rowena’s help to undo it. Jack asks about a spell from the Book of the Damned. Rowena starts talking about one (and she looks ever so briefly at the door when she’s telling her story...LOVE that subtle bit of acting!!) The Necromantiorum spell requires simple ingredients and great power. There’s another knock on her door. Sam and Dean have arrived. Jack whisks her away to the bunker in a flash.

Cas walks through the playground at Heaven’s gateway, calling for an angel. Nothing but the wind answers him…

Meanwhile, Jack has flapped Rowena to the bunker to get ingredients. He sees marks on the floor and has a flashback about Mary. In it, she teaches Jack how to throw a knife. It goes poorly, but she is super supportive anyway. She even helps hide the damage to the floor. Mary Winchester, you are an A+ person! Sam approaches. He’s exhausted from the search for Michael-possessed Dean.

Mary tells Sam that she understands the parental guilt that Sam is feeling for not being there for Jack. She tells Sam that he’s amazing, brave and kind. I’m just gonna…cry in a corner for a while.

In the present day, Dean continues flipping out at Sam while he paces Rowena’s lushly decorated apartment. He circles back to Cas’s culpability, but Sam tells him that they both knew Jack was dangerous. Sam brings up the fact that he made the decision to use the soul magic to bring Jack back, unasked for by Jack. Sam admits that he peaced out on the bunker after Michael killed all the AU hunters, leaving the burden of parenting to Cas. Dean reluctantly admits that he’d let his guard down as well, ignoring Donatello’s warning about Jack.

Jack paces the bunker, looking a wee bit worse for the wear. Rowena tries to connect with him, but Lucifer butts in. He needles Jack about his plan to bring Mary back, painting it as a desperate ploy to get in good with the Winchesters again. Rowena gets to hear one side of the conversation and stays remarkably composed. It’s like a terribly uncomfortable cooking show.

Lucifer tells Jack that he’s just imagining the guilt and pain, as a soulless person. But COME ON, Jack is clearly suffering. This is more than self-preservation.

Rowena finishes collecting spell ingredients and asks for the last item: Mary’s body.

Um. Houston, we have a problem. Ashes apparently don’t count.

Sometime later, Cas stands in front of the sandbox. Just an ordinary, trench-coated dude hanging out alone in a playground. He tells Naomi that he won’t leave until he gets to talk to her. The portal ignites. Hey! Good job, Cas!

Dumah appears, gives Cas some extreme passive-aggressive sass, and asks him if he’s there for Mary Winchester. Um. Maaaaaaybe?

Cas tells her that he wants to bring Mary back, “Because she’s gone!” Hey. I’ll just be over here clutching a blanket around my shoulders to protect myself from all this grief everywhere. Dumah tells Cas that Mary is in a “special heaven” and has achieved peace, at last. We find all of this terribly unsettling, like the plot of this episode is a shark swimming around telling everyone that it’s a dolphin with sort of a wonky fin and just don’t look under the surface. Would you like to pet the strange dolphin? WOULD YOU?

Ha ha. Eh, sorry. Went a little off topic there.

Anyway. Back with Rowena and Jack, he flies her to the cabin and shows her the burn site. Rowena tells him that the spell won’t work without a body and the obliterated ash field is not enough. Jack decides he’s going to do the work himself, which Rowena thinks is a terrible idea. “A cardinal rule of magic,” Rowena cautions. “Disposition affects execution. And you are spinning. Whatever you bring back, it won’t be her.” Rowena refuses to help his mad scheme, compassion thick in her tone, and Jack tosses her all the way back to her apartment.

Rowena stands up, utterly pissed off, and calls Sam. She tells them what Jack is up to. “He’s desperate, confused, angry…” (Hmmm all emotions, you might say.)

She tells them that Jack may bring something terrible back with his attempted spell.

Cut to Jack who is attempting the spell. Oh man. He does the ritual and the skies open up in a heaving vortex of purple-black clouds.

While the spell works, Sam and Dean approach in the Impala. Jack cuts off Baby’s engine (oh NO HE DIDN’T) and finishes the spell.

Dean and Sam race on foot to stop Jack, but it’s too late. He greets them with, “It didn’t work.”

He flaps away and Dean races forward to something lying on the ground. It’s Mary Winchester….’s body. There’s no trace of life. Dean holds his mother’s body and flashes back to driving in the car with her late at night, headed towards or away from a case. She’s asleep on his shoulder and he looks down at her and just…

If you need me, I’ll be searching the nearby forest for my broken heart.

Jack holes up in some gross warehouse while Lucifer cozies up to him. Lucifer tells Jack that because of his failure to resurrect Mary, nobody will take him back into their lives. TFW won’t trust him anymore, so Jack can never trust them. Ugh, Lucifer, you’re the worst. (Man, I really look forward to the day when I won’t feel the need to type that anymore.)

At the bunker, Sam goes through old photos of Mary when Cas walks in. He tells Sam that Mary is in Heaven. “She’s at peace,” Cas says. Dean rather aggressively asks if Cas is just gonna take Dumah’s word on it, but Cas reports that Dumah took him upstairs and let him see Mary’s door. He opened it, and watched from the doorway as Mary lived in it. “She’s with John and there’s no sorrow. No guilt. Just joy.” 

Sam tells them all that Rowena thinks Jack just brought back an empty body. A replica, “incapable of holding life.” Ouch.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Sam asks, sounding lost.

“What we always do,” Dean says. Fight, right? Let’s FIGHT someone! Oh wait, no. What they “always do” is burn the bodies of their loved ones while clenching their jaws stoically.

We get a slideshow montage of Mary moments. MARRRYYYYY! ;__: (Boris: okay if they throw a new photo on the pyre every time someone dies, they’re gonna eventually run out of photos.) Cas tries to approach Dean in comfort but Sam holds him back and shakes his head as if to say, not now. The camera wheels away like a circling hawk, leaving the three of them alone at a crossroads. [Pun completely intended.]

Ceci N'est Pas Une Quote!

I don’t think Jack is well, Dean.

Who cares? It’s a snake!

I could heal you if you’ll let me.

It wasn’t bad. It was the absence of good, and I saw that in him.

I don’t know what happened, or where she is. But I can tell you with certainty Mary Winchester is no longer on this Earth.

Kids - they always surprise you.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[infinitesolarflare]

10-1-0: An Incarnate’s Tale

Oh, forgive me, I see there is some information you'd need for this, well my name is Sullivan Koji. I am the one who has taken over the quest of saving our lives, in our world man has been turning a blind eye for too long. There are few selected humans to be one of the "World Walkers". Being a World Walker means you have achieved the highest level of concentration, determination, and compassion.

I guess you should understand, the common conception of time, and the universe as we know it are wrong. Long ago mages, like us humans were created, there purpose was to save the earth from certain destruction. They lived long lives, and as the mages grew old, they became corrupt. This is when man truly entered the dark ages. As the mages battled one another they discovered that after killing a mage he would burn a bright red, then dissolve. The particles of what once made up the mages were thrown farther than any human could ever imagine. These particles are what humans know as stars. Gazing at stars is a human activity with a far greater importance than they know. The mages attempt to communicate with the World Walkers through this, to find if there are any left.

Now, this is where things fall into place. There were 10 mages each holding a section of the Portal. The Portal is the one thing given to the mages so they can infinitely travel in all directions. My mission, embody the mages, become the one and only Mage left. I have been chosen because what the common man takes as a dream, or nightmare is actually a tool. A tool so useful it takes years before one can even view another world.

The one goal for man is to reach the year, ZERO. Once there man can live at peace, without war, death, poverty, hunger, and hatreds. The ones who the mages see fit to achieve peace are reincarnated every 400 years or so, these souls have purpose, they are meant to reach ZERO. Common people are pawns in the world games of chess. Those souls are reincarnated almost every second of every day. Useless people, unworthy of the true paradise, some call it heaven, others don't believe in it. I have not been there, but I've seen it. My goal for now is to build the portal, show humans what life is supposed to be....

This is almost the end of our lesson together, I Sullivan Koji, have been reincarnated only 3 times so far. This is my story, these are my trials, my tests, and my tears. To reach ZERO I must concentrate once within each universe of the infinite universes. The Old Mages War took place on an open plain, which was the only universe at one time. When the High Mage Geishino was murdered his energy, not only burned a hole into time itself but also exploded into all directions, which we know as The Big Bang. Now there were 7 mages after the High Mage. They traveled throughout all universes, battling one another, the 10 portal pieces are somewhere within them, I WILL find them....

The radio in Sullivan's room is playing Good Times Bad Times by Led Zeppelin. He has been awake for 3 days, his eyes are bloodshot, his eyes water as he sits up. "where do I go today?" his thoughts seem as though they were talking to him aloud. Sullivan has only a few friends who understand his destiny. His life long friends, and blood brothers, James Blackard and Micheal Himaru. Sullivan, from an early age displayed signs of being the World Walker this universe needed. His friends thought he was short a few screws. As we entered highschool, I stared to understand what I was...who I was. I confided in them all that I discovered and they wanted to join me in my quest. Before they could do this I needed to explore how to travel through universes.

FEBRUARY 13, 2019

Friday, 06:17

"Its already time to start, ugh this will be a long day." I focused harder and with more energy than the day before, I attempted to complete my first Walk. I sat in complete silence, in a dark room. Which was located in the basement of my parents house, I was only 17 still. As my breathing slowed, and my pulse crawled to almost a complete stop, the very first visible portal appeared in front of me. And just as quickly as it came, it was gone...vanished into the abyss. "All that fucking work, just to have it amount to nothing" I was beyond frustrated at my poor performance at keeping my cool.

FEBRUARY 13, 2019

09:14

I walked out of the basement room, my eyes squinted almost completely shut from the glow of the sun. It was an abnormally warm and sunny day, usually the frozen tundra of which was once new England was gloomy, and around 10* at all times and just a terrible place to be. This is where I called home, this depressing wasteland of no bodies. Today the sun was in full force and it was a scorching 47*. It reminded me of when I was younger, in 2013 there were swimming pools, beach days, and ice cream trucks. That all became history in 2016, the poles reversed their magnetic fields and plunged the northern hemisphere into an ice age, at the same time causing uncontrollable droughts in the southern hemisphere. With scientific advances skyrocketing in the previous years, we genetically enhanced the human races' ability to adapt to changing environments. 22% of Earths population took to the adaptations well, the other 78% died. They all just died, deteriorating to unknown people of what seemed like a time long ago. These are the most important people to my research, proving most humans are just pawns in a war they could never comprehend.

FEBRUARY 13, 2019

11:43

"uh, I am stuffed" there was no response from my abandoned kitchen. Everyone I know, everyone I loved, gone, they never made it through the treatments. There was no known location of James or Michael, or even if they were alive... I thought of them everyday, they were my drive, the reason I kept myself from killing myself. "Today is the day I find my location for my new home, a research lab, something I can control completely. Underground, deep, safe from the environment, somewhere I can keep myself and others I find alive. I gather my gear, put on my jacket, and leave.

FEBRUARY 13

13:17

I walk through the wasteland and look at the building that were once stores, shops, restaurants, and malls. " I wonder which of these will be my lab? These all were places I used to go as a kid, I even worked at a few of them. I can't believe this was all destroyed in just 3 years.. I miss my old life." I came upon the WalMart near what used to be Springfield Massachusetts. I searched for an entrance, everything was locked, boarded up, and chained together. I wander around, coming across the outdoor section of the garden center. I look through the prison like gate, which once housed flowers, lawn mowers, and all the things you could ever need for gardening. "this is how I'm gonna do it!" I pry the gate open at one of the sliding sections of gate. I squeeze through and the gate, clashes against itself as I stand up. I walk to the door and discover a door, no chains, no boards...no locks. I back up about 30 yards, sprint full force into the door. It crashes open, when I readjust to the new surrounding, I am overcome with joy, hope, and a feeling of accomplishment. The abandoned WalMart was lit up, it had power! "Finally, I have found a suitable place to get started on my lab!" The shelves were still stocked with tools, electronics, food (which was mostly useless at this point), and clothing! I wander the empty store, looking for tools to aid my needs. I go to gardening and grab a pickaxe, shovel, and a wheel barrel. I go to the shoes section of the store, rip the shelves down and throw the shoes aside. After I clear myself a space of about 30ft by 30ft I begin my tunneling.

FEBRUARY 13

15:25

"Wow, this is harder than I expected" I had only accomplished a depth of about one foot on the square area. I knew I needed help...but from who? No one was around, I hadn't talked to a human in 743 days. "Fuck this, it'll never work, its not worth it!" I through down my shovel, stormed out of WalMart and hiked home.

I was tired from my failed excavation, I felt disappointed, like I had just failed my drivers test. "SULLIVAN!?" said a familiar sounding voice as I walked down my dirt road. I snapped around with intent to shoot whoever it was, as I drew my gun I smiled, shed a tear, and dropped it. "Michael? I have been searching for you since the day the world froze over...is it really you?" "yes sully, its me. I left my home in Florida to come see if you lived through this nightmare." "wow, I can't believe it, your actually here, you came back..." "well believe it, I'm here and I know James is around still, he told me he was going to his vacation house for a few years, I knew we would all meet up one day." well we need to find him! I hope he's alive.." as we entered my house, Micheal stopped at the front door, and he removed his shoes, just as my mother always wanted. "so where are your parents?" Michael said with a caring tone. "dead. They died once the ice appeared." Michael's face dropped to one of guilt, "I'm sorry Sull..." "Don't, its fine." I just

finished making tea, I went to the cabinet and grabbed the sugar. "still drink yours with 3 sugars mike?" "I see you haven't forgotten a damn thing sully, sharp as always."

CHAPTER 2

A SUCCESSFUL ENDEAVOR

As the sun rose from what seemed to be an unending night, Mike and I unbolted the lock's from our shelter, which had finally been w q the week before, the WalMart was now the number one safezone for surviving. Or so I thought, as we entered the isles of rundown old equipment, the smell of stale food and the sound of mice filled the store. Everything that was once civilization has been turned to rubble, the common man no longer has beliefs, morals, or

[2k18leo]

Late Fee notes:

((Spoilers))

- Okay, Leo, everyone knows that when it’s explicitly stated that things will go easy and simple, literally eVeRyTHinG bad goes down

- The boys getting so excited for hugs from their father is supposed to be sweet and whatever but like SPLINTER GET IT TOGETHER. YOUR CHILDREN NEED AFFECTION

- I missed these costumes

- Also, Raph’s subtle tongue slither when he said Zombie Apocalypse is so funny to me

- Omg Mikey reads his horoscope

- Also, do we know what his/their horoscope is ? If we’re going off of when they were born, we may actually never know, but they were mutated on January 19 (“was 13 years ago today he made those turtles with the ooze” from Evil League of Mutants, and that episode aired on Jan. 19) so technically that would make them Capricorns

- Michael

- Literally one of my favorite tropes that the turtles seem to do in more than one iteration is refer to a time not that long ago as “ancient” or “Stone Age” these Gen Z boys are killin me, love them

- Leo is literally jinxing this entire mission

- That’s just precious, Mikey is hung up on the thought whether Splinter’s whiskers tickle him when they hug

- CHIBI TURTLES

- Leo being good at baseball makes me wonder what the other turtle’s sporty strengths are. I think the most obvi one is Raph and football. Mikey might have a soccer/futbol strength. And I was thinking like maybe baseball for Donnie, but he also seems like he’d prefer golf

- That is a giant silverfish omg

- Raph-a-roni

- Okay for a second I forgot that when the silverfish get hurt or anything, they multiply, and I was just sitting here like “oh my they really just killed this thing”

- Oh, what a town

- “GASP! THAT WAS YOUR IDEA”

- Mikey and Leo dramatically sliding across the floor is a level of dramatic child I aspire to achieve

- “Enjoyably unreliable and deliciously claustrophobic mode of transit”

- So okay I just had a thought when the subway showed up and the sign said Manhattan. They had to get a ferry to get where they are, so maybe they don’t live in Manhattan? Perhaps Brooklyn? I’ve thought about that with the 2012 turtles, and I think they lived in Brooklyn too. I’d have to rewatch the series and pay close attention to the scenery to tell. But, idk I just always assumed they were in Manhattan

- On the subway: Donnie is nervous and skeptical of his surroundings, Raph is asleep and snoring?, Leo is freaking tf out because someone’s possibly touching him, and Mikey is just snuggled up next to a stranger like it’s perfectly fine to do that

- Dragonmaster? I’m really wondering who this dude is

- What does Ghostbear even do in his free time now? Like does he really need to continue to wear the costume

- HIS HELMET HAS TINY BEAR EARS OMG

- Wizard Con? That’s a thing?

- Okay but Raph literally just told Leo to get on a shellhog BUT HES THE ONE DRIVING THE TANK

- Why does this dragonmaster thing think he’s so invincible ??

- The mech arms have torn holes through the suit 😂

- Thinking about it, Donnie’s brain works SO fast in order to need 6 arms at a TIME to do what he’s trying to do at a specific moment

- Donnie excitedly expressing that he loves his big brother Raph is something we all need. Honestly i would love to see more Raph and Donnie / Leo and Mikey time.

- Awww Leo successfully making a portal and being so proud of himself that he achieved it only to be so distracted by that that he didn’t realize he set up a trap for himself in doing so. I love it. What a reckless little moron, I adore him

- Leo literally just said “Groan” he’s been hanging out with his disaster twin too much

- Oh you know those boys ZOOMED outta there knowing they were successful and now they get hugs. These damaged boys. I’ll give them all the hugs for FREE

- Okay, but whhhhhy did they leave their taxi

- Okay, how’d that wizard guy GET THERE THO

- My theory is it has to be April because there’s no way he just stumbled into a specific sewer drain in a totally different district. Or maybe he climbed into the wreckage of the Turtle Tank and when the boys went back to get it, he just came along for the ride

- Overall, really cute episode. I love these costumes and I think this may just be this generations “turtles in trench coats”. It was funny to see Ghostbear again, and maybe we’ll get to see Dragonmaster sometime again, who knows?

[deans-baby-momma]

Life Without You-After Michael

A/N: The first of my three Valentine’s Day Drabbles/non-drabbles. LOL   This part is 100% from the reader’s P.O.V. Or at least that’s how I hope it comes off as. Enjoy!

Sam made it his priority to keep me unseen by Michael. Which was no problem anyway as he seemed more interested in torturing the hunters living in the bunker than seeking out his vessel's girlfriend.

I stayed hidden in one of the only empty rooms left since we had saved the Apocalypse world people and brought them here. The room was mostly bare, save for a bed and a chest of drawers. Sam had Maggie bring me a set of sheets and a blanket seeing as how no one knew how long Michael would be running amok.

I had to beg the young female hunter to go into mine and Dean's room to get me some different clothing. She wanted to respect our privacy, which was sweet, but I didn't want to be stuck in the same outfit for days.I didn’t know how long I would be hiding out, keep myself and my child safe from the archangel possessing its father.

One week. Seven days I stayed hidden. Michael terrorized the bunker for a few days before turning bored and deciding to go out and create an army. Or so that is what they told me when Sam finally deemed it safe enough for me to return to society. I was grateful for the extra lengths he had taken to keep me and his niece or nephew safe but being cut off from everyone had definitely not been fun. Everyone was working on finding a way to track Michael when Sam got a lead and him, Mary and Bobby took off to follow it. I wished them all luck and promised to return to hiding if, for some reason this was a decoy to lure the more experienced hunters away so Michael could come in and brainwash the newer generation.

When they returned, it had been quiet on the homefront. Sam had called ahead to let me know that they had found Dean. Not Michael, Dean! Apparently the archangel hadn’t been able to convert anyone and gave up. No one knew where he was and to be honest, I couldn’t care less. I was getting Dean back!

I was a myriad of emotions, waiting for their return. Of course I was still pissed as hell at Dean for saying yes and letting Michael take over, I was anxious to see him though...it had been forever since I had been able to look into his loving green eyes and I was worried! Worried that he would be upset about the baby growing inside me. This life wasn’t the type of life to raise a baby in and it hadn’t been like we were even trying but hey, things happen, right? When I heard the bunker door open I was undecided on what to do. Do I meet them at the bottom of the stairs? Do I sit here hiding the very obvious bump I was sporting behind the table in the library? If I had any inclination on how Dean was going to take the news of the impending arrival of our child I would know exactly what to do.  I resolved to just stay where I was and hopefully be able to break the news to him slowly.

That went right out the window when Dean came rushing into the library, straight to me and pulled me up out of the chair and into his arms. “Oh my god! I have missed you so much,” he cried into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tightly, relishing in the feel of being in his embrace once again. I had missed it more than I realized. Dean stilled and I knew then that he felt it; felt the barrier keeping our bodies from being flushed. He pulled away and looked at me before glancing down. “You’re pregnant?” he asked. I couldn’t determine if it was a happy tone in his voice, a wistful one or if he was just completely repulsed by the fact.

“Uh, yea. Due in about 15 weeks.”

“You’re having my baby?” he asked, a smile gracing his face. Oh thank god!

“I am. I was going to tell you once we defeated Lucifer, but--”

“But I said Yes and disappeared. Oh my god! Babe I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t know!”

“I know,” I whispered as I lay my palm against his cheek. “I know.”

He smiles again and then pulls me to him, kissing me softly but passionately. When Sam clears his throat to alert us to other in the room, we break apart looking sheepishly.

“Come on, babe. I need to change out of this monkey suit and cuddle with you,” Dean says, taking my hand and leading me down the hallway.

Sam walks up behind us, heading to his own room. Dean looks back at his brother and shutters.

“Would you please shave now? It’s just every time I think about it, you know. It's like a nightmare. I mean I can’t eat, I can’t sleep - it’s always just there watching me."

I wonder briefly what he is talking about until I hear Sam sigh and say, "Dean, it’s just a beard. I’ve been a little busy lately."

Dean doesn't let up though. He just keeps on, stopping in the middle of the hallway to continue his teasing. "Yeah well that’s not an excuse, cos you know Duck Dynasty called and they want it all back."

Sam is quick on the rebuttal, saying, "Some people say I look good." He straightens his stance and stiffen his shoulder.

"No Sam. No people say that."

I slap Dean's chest and look at Sam. "Hey! I think it looks nice. Very dignified."

Dean rolls his eyes and mutters "Traitor" and gives me a wink when I look at him.

Once in our bedroom, I sit on the bed and watch as Dean looks around, almost as if he is re-memorizing all the little aspects of our lives that he missed.

“Soooo?” I ask, not sure how to go about asking him if he is truly him and if he is actually okay.

“So, I don’t know. Michael bailed. I don’t know why and don’t know how: he just cleared out. Now as far as my memory goes, I mean everything from the second I said yes to the moment I walked through those doors is a blank. So, I’m good. I’m just really, really, happy to be home. Back with you. I missed you so much. I thought about you constantly.”

“I missed you too Dean,” I said trying to fight back a sob. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I had already adapted to the fact that I’d be raising this one alone. I’m so glad I don’t have to now.” I said smiling through the tears.  “Mary has been a godsend, so helpful and teaching me things I never knew about pregnancy and after the baby is born. Speaking of her, where is she and Bobby?”

“They stayed back in Duluth to clean up--” he pauses, looking for the correct phrase. “-the situation. And speaking of cleaning up. I need a freaking shower. I don’t know what all that douche had me doing but I feel defiled! We’ll cuddle and you can tell me all about our child after?” I  nod as I watch him pull out his regular jeans and a flannel and head off to the bathroom. Dean is back and happy about the baby! I lay back on the pillows to wait for him.

Finding the scar on his right upper bicep was a big surprise. Apparently something, somewhere had fought the archangel and whatever weapon they used was strong enough to injure his vessel beyond repair! So instead of staying to ourselves and cuddling, enjoying talking about the baby, we were now in the library with Sam, Cas and Jack. I sit beside Dean, holding his left hand as they all study the wound.

"Cas I’m going to need you to get in my head, do the whole Vulcan mind meld thing because if I can’t remember what happened I’m going to need you to drag it out of me, ok? " Dean tells them.

"Wait a second, you sure about this? " Sam, the ever present pessimist of the group asks. I can tell he is just worried about his brother and what having Castiel dig into his memories of his possession could lead to.

"Yeah, I can handle it." Dean squeezes me hand and looks up at his brother.   

Cas stands behind us and looks conflicted. "Dean," he begins and it sounds almost like he is going to try to talk Dean out of doing this. But he knows, as well as I do, this needs to happen. We need to know what caused that injury on his arm.

"Cas, c’mon hit me, " Dean demands.

Cas sighs as he places his hands on each side of Dean's head  and closes his eyes. He then places one on the scar and I watch as his eyes move back and forth behind his lids.

"Dean, who was that?" Cas asks as he takes his hand away, quickly.

It was determined that whatever the weapon was, it was a large sword with two large, thick prongs; like a big meat fork and wielded by a being from another dimension. Sam goes to call Jody and I listen in as they tell her Dean is back and then ask about the Bad Place, the other world they had traveled to trying to find Mary and ultimately killed Kaia, the one who had opened the portal. Jody tells them that she's heard nothing but that she has victims on her desk with the same injuries.  Sam and Dean decided quickly that they were going to Sioux Falls to help Jody figure out what is going on; how whatever that being was how it got to this world and why it was attacking people.

Once again, I stayed back at the Bunker. Which truthfully, I didn't mind a bit. I was used to it, I liked it. Being able to be there if and when they needed information from one of the many lore books in the library or just a friendly voice to hear when the case was running long and difficult. I was worried about Dean going up against the one person who obviously had it out for him, or at least Michael. Would they pause long enough to see that the archangel was no longer in control should they meet up? Would I get Dean back just to lose him all over again? I busied myself with helping Cas and Jack deal with the young girl who one of the hunters had saved on a witch hunt.

We ultimately save the girl from the hex and the hunters who found her takes her back to her mother. When Sam and Dean get back they have even more questions than they had before they left. But Dean….Dean is bound and determined to hole up in our room with snacks and a marathon of cheesy horror flicks. He pulls me away from the crowd and we lay on the bed and veg out, watching villains take out their vengeance on their prey. We are on our third slasher flick when Sam enters. He has his ipad in his hand and looks uptight and on edge. Dean takes his eyes off the screen and is shocked to see that Sam has indeed finally shaved. The older Winchester mentions it and Sam acquiesces. 

“Yes I shaved,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“I mean, it’s so smooth. It’s like a dolphin’s belly,” Dean says and I can’t help but giggle earning us both a signature Sam Winchester bitchface. Sam pulls up the desk chair and sits down.

"Well I hate to disturb your marathon, but I think I found us a case."

Dean asks nonchalantly, "More Michael monsters?"

"No, killer toy." That gets both of our attention. Dean sits up and looks at his brother.

"What kind of toy?".

After watching the video Dean seems amused and interested."Thundercats? Seriously?"

"Yeah. But I mean, you’ve got your pizza, your girl, at least eight more of these movies so I’ll just leave you to it and I’ll get one of the other guys…"

Dean jumps up off the bed. "Oh, hell no, hell no. No, Panthro, that’s mine!" Then he looks back at me apologetically. "Sorry baby. I got to go check this out. We'll finish when I get back?"

I nod and watch as he follows Sam out of the room, asking a million questions. I sigh and get up, clearing the bed of empty wrappers and what is left of the pizza we had been munching on.

Dean was on an all-time high when they returned from Ohio; he had went up against and defeated one of his most favorite bad guys, the Hatchet Man. He came rushing into the bedroom where I was with a goofy smile on his face and made me lay beside him while he told me all about it. From dodging flying chainsaws  to battling the ghost possessing a David Yeager life-size figurine.”I killed Hatchet Man, babe. Like kill-killed him! Dead. By. My. Hands!”

I giggle at his enthusiasm and then he jumps up off the bed suddenly. “Come on, babe. Let’s go out. Get dressed. I’m taking you out tonight.”

Dean took me a nice romantic restaurant where we enjoyed the food, each other’s company and talked about the baby. Although he was anxious and apprehensive about bringing a baby into this fucked up world we live in, he was enthusiastic about adding another Winchester to our lives. When we were finished eating, before he went to pay, Dean Winchester fully and thoroughly surprised me when he got down on one knee in the middle of the restaurant and took my hand in his. “You have been my only light in this dark world for so long and I don’t know what I would do without you. We have helped each other through the good times and the bad. You have been beside me every step of the way. And now, we are adding another to the mix. The love between us has given new meaning to the saying breath of life. You and this baby are the most important people to me and I don’t want to be apart from you ever again. Will you marry me?”

And if anyone asks, I was so totally not a crying, bumbling mess as I said the only word that question deserved.

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[coolcephalopod]

maybe i’m a crook for stealing your heart away

Summary: It’s just the two of them, against the rest of the world.

In which Michael comes to Mallory with an important proposal.

AO3 is krakeneggs!

Sometimes, she thinks, if Michael wasn’t the antichrist, he could fool her as an angel. He has a beautiful voice, sultry and hypnotizing, with words rolling like silk off of his tongue. His soft blond locks give off a gentle halo effect, a stark contrast against the sharp edges of his jawline. It’s his clear blue eyes, so earnest and pure it’s like looking into the ocean. Sometimes, she’ll even catch him looking at her with a softness in his eyes that she’s never seen him look at anyone else with.

But she knows what he really is. He’s her worst fear, her darkest nightmare. The spawn of Satan, conceived from the unholy union between a ghost and human on a portal to hell, ready to bring about the apocalypse. How could he be expected to be anything else? All this death and destruction that he’s destined to bring about, destroying everything she’s ever known, her friends, her family, her life.

And yet.

And yet she still loves him, loves him with her whole heart. She loves the way he says her name, Mallory, and how it feels like liquid fire, hot and burning in her chest. She loves the way his arm snakes its way around her waist when they’re sleeping together, and she wakes up with his head buried in the crook of her neck, as he snores softly. (Even if she has to begrudgingly wake him up before anyone in the house discovers them curled up in bed together.) She loves the feeling of his magic humming through her body, it’s intoxicating, and she thinks she understands the allure of his power, the feeling of being able to do anything and everything with no one to stand in her way. His magic feels different from hers; where hers is light and careful, his is heavy and searching, searching for the darkness she keeps buried deep inside of her, clawing at her secret desires. She gets it. She really does. It’s like standing at the edge of a precipice, a gentle breeze away from knocking her down, but she always pulls herself back.

He sees her in ways that nobody else does. One time, instead of her usual golden leaf headband, she wore a braid in its place.

“You changed your hair.”

“You noticed.” You were the only one who did.

“I like it.” I always notice you.

She’s sure that she was smiling even in her sleep that night.

She loves him even when he comes to her, hands trembling and covered in blood. She just brushes his hair back and holds him tight as his shoulders shake with silent sobs and he mumbles apologies that she only half-believes.

Neither of them will say it out loud, but they know that their time together is limited. Mallory is a witch. And Michael is, Michael Langdon, Antichrist. Undeniable facts that they can’t change, can’t change the fact that he’ll destroy her.

“Hey.”

Mallory looks up from her book about revolutions in the 17th century to find Michael standing in front of her. Weird, how she didn’t hear him materialize in her room.

“Hey.” She smiles, setting her book aside, page side down on the bed to save her spot. (God, Zoe would probably kill her for doing that to her book.)

“What are you doing in here?” She asks. It’s nearly midnight, and she was just about to go to sleep, hair already in two loose braids that run down her back.

“I missed you.” There’s something different about Michael, he seems almost nervous. Which is laughable, considering she’s never known him to be nervous about anything. (Except maybe her, but that doesn’t really count in her eyes.)

“Oh, and this couldn’t wait until morning?” She teases, extending a hand towards him and pulling him down to her bed. He lies down, and she curls up to him, legs intertwined with his. It’s an interesting contrast that the two of them make, her with dark brown hair and white nightgown, and him in his black suit and blond hair.

He stays silent, staring up at the ceiling, and his thoughts are so loud she can almost hear them. Almost. If she tried hard enough, she can focus and catch snippets of his thoughts, bit and pieces moving too fast for her to pick just one.

“Michael? What’s wrong?” She taps two fingers on his forehead.

“Run away with me.” He blurts out, still staring at the ceiling. He’s conflicted, that much she can feel.

“I’m serious, Mal. Run away with me.” He sits up suddenly, and so does she. There’s a wild, feral look in his eyes that she’s only ever seen once.

They were going to hang out and have a picnic in the forest, but he never showed up. Mallory went deep into the woods, deeper than she’d ever explored before to try and find him. And she did.

He was hunched over a wild bear that was almost twice the size of him. In its chest was a gaping hole where its heart should be. Instead, Michael had it in his hands, tearing into it with his teeth like a man starved, thick rivulets of blood dripping down his throat and smeared all over his hands and face. His eyes were pure black, darker than a night sky with no stars in it. It looked like Michael, but the light had completely faded from his normally blue eyes and it terrified her.

She stood there, frozen, icy fear gripping her chest until her legs finally started to work again. She cast a silencing spell to muffle her retreating footsteps, and ran, tears blurring her vision as she made her way back to the mansion. She sat for hours in the bathtub in a stupor, until the water grew cold and her skin pruned up. Coco found her, shivering and sniffling, dried tear tracks on her face, and simply wrapped her in a fluffy towel and put her to bed. She didn’t ask, Mallory didn’t tell.

She just simply chose to forget that it ever happened, to ignore the truth of what Michael was and what he did.

“Are you okay?” She holds the back of her hand to his forehead and he catches her wrist in an iron-tight grip.

“Mallory, I-“ He stops himself, everything he thought he prepared himself to say going out the window when he looks into her eyes, doe brown eyes filled with concern for him.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. I’m here for you.” Her other hand rests on his cheek, and she brushes her thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.

“Run away with me.” He repeats. “No more witches, no more warlocks. We don’t have to get caught up in their politics, in their drama of who’s going to be more powerful. I’m tired, Mal. I’m tired of being a pawn in their game.”

“And just leave our lives behind? What about your Ms. Mead? I have a life here, Michael. I’ve made friends, and I finally found a place where I belong.” She says.

“But you belong with me, Mallory.” He insists, tugging her closer to him. “We can finally be together, no more worrying about who’s gonna find out about us.”

He looks pleadingly at her, blue eyes meeting brown, and she’s so tempted to just give in. To say yes and run away with him, to a place where no one knows who they are. She can hold his hand in public, or kiss him whenever she wants to.

“And you’d even give up being the antichrist?” She asks.

He hesitates, and she catches a flicker of doubt in his features.

“You’d give up all your power, and your revered status as the antichrist, the alpha, just for me?” She asks again.

“I would have you by my side, at least. You could rule with me.” He says quietly, looking away from her.

She’s disappointed, but she knew it was coming. “You know I can’t. I can’t sacrifice the coven like that.”

“And you’d choose your precious coven over me?” Anger flashes in his eyes, and his grip on her wrist tightens enough for her to wince. “Come on. Think of what we could do together, the powers we possess, the destruction we could cause. You’re special, Mallory, I can feel it. You’re much more powerful than any of the witches here.”

She doesn’t say anything, just thinks about what he says. His eyes close, and she can tell the familiar hum of energy, his power flowing into her. She sighs softly as she feels the shift in her body, like adrenaline rushing through her veins. It’s so addicting, a never-ending high on her mind. She feels like she could tear the whole mansion to the ground with a flick of her wrist, send a hurricane ripping through New Orleans in the blink of an eye. Her power feeds off of his, enhancing her already strong abilities. She’s so close to saying yes, let herself tip over the edge into the abyss she’s been afraid to look into, when she gets a type of vision. A flash of fire, destruction raining down onto screaming men, women, and children. Gnarled bodies infected by radiation, wandering the vast wasteland, turning on each other. Her sisters are dead, bodies scattered across the mansion, broken and bloody. She sees an older version of herself, sitting at an older Michael’s side, smiling up at him. That’s her future, if she says yes to him in the moment.

Mallory rips herself out of his grasp, putting distance between the two of them as she gasps for breath, tears in her eyes. Her body aches from the sudden loss of power, like she’s been dunked in a bath of ice and she feels so cold and empty. She longs to reach for him but she can’t. She won’t.

“No.” She whispers.

His eyes open, and settle onto her trembling form. “What did you say?” His eyes darken.

“I said, no.” She says, a little firmer.

“Michael, I love you. But this isn’t the way. I’d be dooming the entire human race if I ran away. I’d be a coward if I did.” She says. She wants to cry at the pained look on his face, wants to take it all back and just lay in his arms like she used to. But she’s seen a version of the future she’d be condemning seven billion people to, and she doesn’t have the strength to ignore it.

“You’re either with me, or you’re against me, Mallory.” He growls.

“I’m sorry, Michael.” She thinks she can feel her heart breaking in her chest, and she looks away.

He’s breathing heavily, anger burning in his eyes. She can feel the pure rage radiating off of him, and she slowly backs away from him. In place of his blue eyes, are the coal black eyes she saw in the forest, devoid of any light, of any trace of the Michael she knows. This is a total stranger, and not the man who loves her, who presses soft kisses to the side of her neck, and makes her laugh so hard her stomach hurts. She has no idea who this person is. This is the first time she’s ever been truly afraid of him.

He pounces, and pins her down to the bed, hands going to her neck and squeezing, feeling the muscles of her neck flex and strain beneath his fingers. She tries to pry his fingers off, but his grip is unwavering. She tries to use magic to throw him off, but she’s still weakened from being imbued with so much of his power and then having it ripped away from her. Spots dot her vision, and through the haze she sees Michael, the same wild look in his eyes from the forest. Maybe he’ll end up tearing her heart out too. She feels her lungs burning for air, and she reaches up to stroke his cheek. Her last act to a man she loves, who hurt her in the one way she never thought he would.

“Michael?” He hears a voice as sweet as honey choke out his name, and it’s like the light in his darkness that he’s been looking for his whole life. The darkness, always so suffocating and clouding his every thought, taking control of his mind. He wants to reach out for that light, and maybe everything will be fine again. He’ll wake up and he’ll see his beautiful Mallory, smiling at him and she’ll forgive him for everything he’s done, like she always does. But he’s slipping and it’s so hard not to let his darkness snuff out the light and everything hurts and he’s so tired and if he can’t have her then no one can and he just. lets go.

Later, he’ll wake up to a sobbing Cordelia, clutching his Mallory’s cold, lifeless body in her arms, her body with bruises around her neck that he made. She’ll scream and cry, asking why he did it and all he can do is stutter and stumble over his words because how do you explain that you had to do it? He’s sorry but that doesn’t matter to Cordelia, to Mallory.  She’ll try to bring her back but nothing works, not even being the Supreme. He’ll try to bring her back, and not even his father can help him.

Later, when the world’s destroyed and it’s just him left, alone on his throne built from chaos and suffering, he’ll still be haunted by the girl with the brown eyes and golden halo. He’ll be haunted by the bruises around her neck and the sad look in her eyes as she shakes her head at him, never saying anything. He’ll choke and cough up blue rose petals, and he’ll think to himself, was it all worth it?

[eisforeidolon]

Bring ‘Em Back Alive

So basically, this episode was worse than pointless – most of the characters acted like they had a problem with their brains being missing and the writers all but spit in the face of the audience by having Gabriel quip about getting a redemption arc right after they retconned the fuck out of his actual redemption arc.

Bucklemming really do have a very special kind of talent.

At the end of last episode, Dean decided to jump through the portal with no real planning and have Sam stay behind ostensibly to mount a potential rescue mission but really to cram as many side characters into as many different plots as possible.  Also, okay, since they opened the damn thing right smack in their own home, somebody should probably also make sure nobody else comes through from Apocaworld, like homicidal angels or monsters or what-have-you.  While it does seem like a bit of a transparent excuse, who else could do it?  Cas?  Oh, yeah, it's a great idea to rely on him not to change his mind/get brainwashed/be captured after the last several seasons!  Expecting him to come through would be almost as stupid as him talking down to the Winchesters about dumbass plans …

Still, the Winchesters know that this other world is a different Earth which means, shock of shocks, it’s Earth-sized.  Which is why it's utterly bizarre Dean and Sam both seem to believe one 24 hour trip to yet another random location is going to be enough to save Mary and Jack.  It's not like they even know the two of them are together!  Even if the portals geographically correspond between worlds, which they don’t know, and if Mary had stayed near the one she went through - that one at the cabin was in North Cove Washington and Dean left from the bunker in Kansas. Google tells me this is a twenty six hour drive.  Which doesn’t even account for the part where they knew Michael had captured her and moved her who-knows-where, including potentially even further away.  Yet they assume Dean will not only find some way of finding her - and Jack wherever he is - but actually manage to get to those possibly separate locations and bring them back to the tear in Kansas ... in twenty four hours.  Riiight.

So naturally only the powers of a black hole of Mary-suedom could orchestrate Dean and Ketch directly running into not only a dead “fan favorite” from the real world that Dean “failed” but one who just happens to be likely to know where Jack and Mary are!  A circumstance Disposable Angel #5 helpfully exposits out loud randomly to the landscape about!  After which, Dean and Ketch just go tromping on through the wilderness when they're in a world where angels still have their wings. The angel camp could be on the literal other side of the fuckin' world!  Hell, even if it was a couple states away that's still too far to go on fucking foot, especially when you don't even have a goddamn direction!  C'mon!

If they'd been willing to skip tongue bathing a certain character's ass by adding that scene so she could be “badass” as many times as possible and just had the second scene with the trapper angel guy, it actually wouldn't have felt like such an absurd level of convenience.  Clearly Jack has been making some waves for the angel to refer to him specifically, so I can believe there would be an increase overall in patrols. Considering all of Earth is a battleground there, even that excuse isn't necessary for a little serendipity to allow them run into Flunky #75 looking for rogue humans.  It would be perfectly reasonable with Angel Radio for him to be that inconsequential and still know Jack and Mary are together involved with the resistance, and resistance members are being taken to the angel camp, as well as where that camp is.  

Again, once Dean gets shot, the plan to continue walking for hours while recovering from a fatal poison where the antidote is not an instantaneous cure when they only have 24 hours is just stupid.  As is Ketch harping on about Dean's connection to Fakename Replacement Goldfish.  (Yeah, Dean can't ever say how much she did for them – because if the writers had to actually list specifics it would be even more obviously contrived than it already is.)  Ketch was never that perceptive before and as dumb as it is, she is their only lead. So having a big heart-to-heart as if there needs to be another reason is so blatantly manufactured.  Worse, it's both not letting an asshole character stay an asshole version I've-fucking-lost-count and it would have been a lot less out of nowfuckingwhere if it had been Sam and Dean dealing with their mutual issues over her and Sam getting to show concern for Dean.  But why would we want actual meaningful scenes between the two characters whose relationship underlies the foundation of the show?  Bucklemming sure don't know!  They're too busy trying to make Ketch cuddly now.  Speaking of stupidly trying to make characters cuddly because reasons ...

Meanwhile, back in the regular world, Gabriel is now being treated as the Winchester's long lost bestest buddy.  Look, I actually liked Gabriel – but for what he actually was, an antagonist. So the writers having Cas and Sam make sad googly eyes and big speeches about needing him to throw a boner to the shippers … this is the bastard that tortured the Winchesters several times.  Him being tortured himself doesn’t magically wipe that slate.  It didn’t for Meg, it didn’t for Crowley.  It only gets worse when Castiel reads the bullshit retcon exposition written on the walls and they still keep cooing at him.  Like, even if they felt he'd redeemed himself by his big sacrifice before, they now know that was complete bullshit!  I mean, did Sam even react to that revelation at all?  It's just an additional shade of incomprehensible they're so eager to help the giant dick they offer him his grace back even knowing all that – you know, that thing they need to reopen the portal if Dean doesn't come back?  The thing that if they give it to Gabriel it could allow him to do whatever the fuck he wants, including leaving them in the lurch again - which they now know he’s even more likely to do than they knew five minutes ago?!?  Again, considering what they just found on the walls, before Cas tries to reset his brains or whatever, how do they know he wasn’t just faking until his grace regenerated/they gave it to him/blah blah whatever grace does now, who the fuck knows?  If they'd simply given the grace to him after Asmodeus called to threaten them or right when the wards went off, it would have been a justifiable choice with actual logic behind it!   Lastly on the subject of Gabriel, you know it's a Bucklemming episode by how tediously they dragged out that skeevy joke about him and porn stars.  Ha fucking ha.

Remember when Lucifer was actually scary?  It's been so long I'm starting to forget.  This is the villain behind the first five seasons – and now he's cringe-y comic relief between the actual plots.  Oh, and then there's the part where he voluntarily sits through random angel sidekick #11 sniping at and belittling him at length, then lets her just go on her way because ... nepotism reasons.  How utterly fucking embarrassing.

I would find Dean's OTT anger and disappointment and Sam and Cas' quieter disappointment and sad-facing a whole lot more convincing if both Mary and Jack didn't feel like cardboard plot devices.  Why are we so attached to them that we're literally risking ripping the fabric of the universe apart again?  No, seriously?  Everything about the Winchester's emotional rollercoaster with this so-called plotline this season just feels so fake because Mary they barely know and Jack they were half worried was going to destroy the world anyway!  Oh, but Michael I guess?  Or something?  Bah. 

The only thing I truly enjoyed about this episode is that at least we should finally be done with Asmodeus' egregious scenery chewing now.  At least I sincerely hope so, surely he’s not popular enough for a bullshit resurrection?