#seraphim collections: fading

[seraphimcollections]

fading [in progress]

pairing: johnny silverhand x reader

summary: mortal enemies from birth. the devil and the angel, good versus evil. you, the prodigy netrunner and hidden child of the Arasaka global empire. him, rebellious outcast and infamous rockstar of Night City. Sworn enemies with the odds stacked against them, but fate is fickle thing.

warnings: gun violence, murder, blood, kidnapping, grooming (not by johnny), rockstar behavior, angst angst angst! sexual implications, eventual smut, slowburn, secret enemies to lovers, fluff.

a/n: hey guysss, guess who's starting a new seriessssss. just finished playing cyberpunk 2077 and my eyes was on this tall drink of water the entire time. truly a crime this man doesn't get enough love on this site

Some things to know about his fic:

Reader is an original character and not V

Reader uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy.

Written in third person. second person.

This series takes place before the bombing of Arasaka tower and before Johnny's relationship with Alt.

Want to be in the tag list? Please leave a comment!

Thank you!

[ part.i ] [ part.ii ] [ part.iii] [ part. iv ] (in.progress)\\\

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 16/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

It's time we get back to the angel duo.

To those re-reading the fic on ao3, you'll notice some dialogues or descriptions have either been added or changed so it's not an exact replica of the chapters here. It's like little easter eggs of what I didn't get to put back then.

-----------------------------------------------

Gabriel: How dare you, Michael!

In an obscure corner of Heaven, sat the six remaining Archangels, engaged in a heated debate over what had just transpired between Michael and Lucifer and the Fates. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. It's as awkward as you think being Emily and Sir Pentious in the room who seemed to fade into the background amidst the chaos.

The moment the others arrived, any semblance of order was thrown out the metaphorical window as questions upon questions were asked all at once. Sir Pentious stood rigidly at attention, though his efforts went unnoticed by the bickering Archangels. He's stiffer than Emily and she...

Emily has never been in a situation as tense like this before; even counting the disastrous court hearing with Charlie.

Since her creation, she had always been told that these are the most fearsome angels in Heaven; that they are both merciful and merciless, especially when it comes to protecting Heaven.

Sera: We strive to be like them, Emily. Our actions must all lead to one goal: safeguarding Heaven.

Emily: But Lucifer was their brother!

Sera: Those in power are always faced with harsh choices. And they stay in power because they can make those choices.

Emily: I still don't understand.

Sera: As Head Seraphim, I am also faced with constant challenges. But I do it all to protect our home. But you, you are still learning. And for now.. this shall be my burden to carry.

Emily: But.... What if I mess up?

Sera: That is why I will teach you, Emily. You still have so-

Emily: No! I mean.. The stories said that Lucifer was their most precious brother but he was still cast down. So what I mess up, Sera?

Sera: What?

Emily: Will you cast me down too?

Sera never did give her answer.

Uriel: How could you keep this from us, Michael? Do we not deserve to know such vital information? Especially when it's about our dear Samael?

Michael: I understand you're all angry. But I only found out mere days ago. I kept coming back just to check if my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I wanted to be sure-

A resounding bang echoed through the room as the Archangel of Healing forcefully slammed his palms onto the table, causing a collective flinch amongst everyone.

Rapahel: Bullshit! You were going to keep this all to yourself again; just like everything concerning Samael!

Jophiel, who is next to him, is rubbing circles in her brother's back in an attempt to calm Raphael down.

Jophiel: Given your track record concerning our little brother, we have every right to doubt you right now.

Camael: I think what they're trying to say is that you should've told us the second you found out. It doesn't matter if you're not sure, we can be there to help you figure it out. Something as concerning as Samael's death... that is not something you keep for as long as you should have.

Sir Pentious: Lucifer.

A sudden quiet fell over the assembled angels as their attention shifted towards the unexpected source of the interruption.

Emily stares at Sir Pentious is slight horror because her new friend just interrupted the Archangels' conversation.

Camael: I'm sorry?

Emily: Sir Pentious! You can't speak to them like-

But the snake only repeats himself.

Sir Pentious: Hisssssss Majesty's name isssss Lucifer.

For an agonizing minute, no one spoke. Whether it's because of Sir Pentious' correction or their presence, Emily isn't sure.

It was Michael who broke free from the collective stupor. With a weary sigh, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the weight of responsibility present upon his face. Emily braced herself, anticipating a reprimand for their intrusion, but to her surprise, the Sword of Heaven merely nodded in acknowledgment.

Michael: He's right. We can't keep disrespecting Sa- Lucifer's wishes even if he isn't here with us.

That broke whatever freezing spell the others had, confusion now paints their features.

Gabriel: I'm sorry who are these people?

While that question was directed at Michael, the Archangel of Wisdom directed theirs on the two of them.

Uriel: Who are you?

Emily: I'm uhm Emily, Your Heavenly Grace. I'm the Seraphim in training under Sera.. and this is Sir P-Pentious. Our uh newly redeemed soul from Hell.

She said the last part almost in a whisper but it seems like they all heard it nonetheless because they are now looking at them with pure disbelief.

Camael: Redeemed?!

Jophiel: From Hell?!

Raphael: Are you saying that this was once a sinner soul?!

Sir Pentious took a bit of an offense to that.

Sir Pentious: This has a name. I am the great Sir Pentiousssss, inventor and former resssssident of the hellish realm!

Uriel: H-How is that possible? Were you planning on keeping this from us too, Michael?

Michael and Emily both stood up so fast at that accusation.

Michael: No! I only knew of this today!

Emily: He didn't know!

The Messenger of God only raised an eyebrow at this and crossed his arms, a silent gesture to explain further.

Michael falls to his chair looking more tired than ever before.

Michael: Apparently, this soul arrived here months ago but the Head Seraphim chose not to mention anything to me or any of you.

Emily: Sera just wanted to know how it happened before telling anyone but with what happened that last... extermination, I think she was afraid.

Gabriel: She had the right to. What was she thinking?! First approving of this yearly genocide behind our backs and now this redeemed soul?! Tell me, young Seraph, are there any other secrets you're keeping from us?

Emily: I-

As multiple eyes manifested across the Archangel's form, a tangible sense of unease swept through the room. Michael then made a decisive move, positioning himself firmly between his brother and Emily, a silent but unmistakable gesture of protection.

Michael: There's no more, Gabe. Aside from this soul's-

Sir Pentious: ehem

Michael: -sorry, Sir Pentious' current redeemed status, Sera knows as much as us. Isn't that correct, young Emily?

Emily: Uh- Yes! We have no idea how, he just showed up in a beam of light suddenly. Please believe us.

As Uriel also positioned himself in front of Gabriel, his gaze a silent warning, Gabriel relented, reverting to his usual form and taking a seat, the tension visibly vanishing from his posture.

Michael gives him a silent thank you and controls himself.

Michael: Young Seraph, as much as we are delighted to know that redemption is possible, with the threat of a war hanging upon us, it is too dangerous right now to grant new souls in. We cannot do anything about the current human souls that is entering our gates but we can control those coming from Hell. So we can't let it be known for now- in Heaven or in Hell.

Emily understands but she still felt anger bubbling inside her. This is supposed to be good news! They finally told the top angels and they still need to keep it a secret? Charlie would be so hurt not knowing that her dream is becoming a reality.

Raphael: Damn the war, Michael! Our baby brother is going to die! I am not gonna make the same mistake twice by choosing Heaven over my own sibling. Never again.

Gabriel: What he said.

Emily can't count anymore how many times the Head Archangel had sighed throughout their encounter.

Michael: I know. I would like nothing more that to prevent that. But.. this is the Fates.

Uriel: ...He's right. We all know that even Father can't change what has already been woven.

Jophiel: So what? We just sit here and let Lucifer die?

Michael: Lucifer does not want our help. And we cannot stop Fate. This war will happen and Lucifer will perish in it.

Camael: Then what can we do?

.

.

.

Michael: We delay it.

-----------------------------------------------

Forgive me if it's a bit messy.

If you can't tell this is kind of in Emily's POV.

I love Sera okay but if I kept a secret as messed up as a genocide, I would probably refrain from telling my bosses that we there was probably no need for it anyway after finding out that redemption is real.

I'd also like to think that the Archangels are just as emotion-driven as Lucifer but only in front of their family. Anyone outside of them sees them as stoic and cold (that's why that is how Emily sees them).

[sherlockhomies-42]

<p>Swirls of cries and fog overwhelmed the sleeping entities senses as she opened her eyes for what felt like the first time in an age.</p>

<p>Death opened her eyes and was shocked at the number of souls crowding her domain and crying for release from their pain.<br />

As she came into full awareness after her slumber her confusion spiked, 'why are there so many here? They should be....' even in her still half sleep state she reaches and begins to silence the cries, her presence moving over their minds like soothing balm to a burn.</p>

<p>Then she noticed the horns, tails and other parts on these souls that indicated to her they were sinners from the 7 circles. But that left one question in her mind as the cries of the damned fueled her waking rage.</p>

<p>"Who has sent you all to this place?" Her voice rings out across all their minds and the resounding answer that follows makes her blood boil beneath her skin.<br />

She felt a familiar tug and looked up from her spot as she saw a white light above trying to grab her attention, as if answering her question of guilt with no words needed.</p>

<p>An explosion of winds rang out as a pair of black feathered wings moved from her back, stretching and preparing to find those guilty and punish them for making a mockery of her job and purpose.</p>

<p>"Seraphim and Adam, the fools. They think they've got it all under wraps... Perhaps it's time for a visit to the Kingdoms....and a well deserved WARNING about meddling in my affairs." She snarled as she waved a hand over the crowd of souls, a collective sigh was heard as they faded into blissful pastures and reunion of loved ones long since passed.</p>

<p>As Death prepared to take off into the ring of light, the last souls voice rang out;<br />

"My lady!, wait!"<br />

Death turned her head as she waited for his words.</p>

<p>"The princess of hell has started a rehabilitation facility for sinners!"</p>

<p>Death was surprised at this and gestures for him to continue before he fades</p>

<p>"Please, I beg don't let anyone else become subject to heavens torture."<br />

She is shocked at the blunt and rather daring request before she nods and responds;</p>

<p>"If they have been doing what I think they have for my entire slumber, Heaven will face the consequences of trifling with forces outside their understanding or control, Rest now, you have earned it.". As she takes flight, the breeze from her wings gently moved the last soul along to their forever rest.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>"Now... Perhaps I should pay a visit to hell first, I have a few questions for Miss Morningstar..."</p>

[originemesis]

@brokendreamscreation xxx

Boxed into the feathered, makeshift confessional of Adams wings, Lucid is quite literally at the mercy of the giant angel. He cannot move or wriggle away, nor even avert his gaze. Face forced upwards to meet the holographic glowing eyes of Adam’s helmet, Lucid sees his reflection briefly in it. Wide-eyed, mortified, and blushing brightly in the vice grip around his jaw, feeling the pressure and tips of Adam’s claws against his porcelain skin. Despite how naïve the short seraphim is, he is no dummy. It takes no genius to read between the lines of the First Man’s true intentions. This is blackmail in its purest form, dirty laundry that can bring ruin to Lucid should Adam even slip the barest of a loose tongue to the council. Oh Sera would have Lucid exterminated with the wave of her hand! And what the worst part is? Adam using this against him now. Something they shared millennia ago that to Lucid was almost sacred in a way, a moment shared between them and only them. Now it is nothing more than a means of greed for the First Man. Betrayal is what the seraphim felt. Whatever had happened in the garden remained in the garden. This is not the same Adam and never would be again. Feeling the pressure on his jaw and strained ache in his neck, Lucid swallows the lump in his throat. “…I’ll do whatever you want, Adam. As long as you don’t tell anyone. …It’s a deal.” Holding out a hand, he waits for the larger angel to take it.

None of the heaven born would ever understand the type of currency to be had with basic biological functions. He'd spent up to nine hundred years of paying into a thankless planet's population, and it was only now that he could capitalize on the stock of seed well spread... even when it hadn't taken root. Walmart Lucifer here could call it blackmail all he wanted, but as far as the man is concerned - he's merely collecting a nest egg tucked out of his detection range. Not that he'd consider the servitude of a careless creation much of a bounty to collect. If anything, the sing songy seraphim annoyed the piss out of him...but that would all change with the ammunition now at his disposal. Not like he's completely innocent anyway- getting the naive zoo animal that heaven saw the first man as to plow him into the putty now half quivering in his grasp.

Now that he's thinking about it... he's also left with the awkward question of if he and the hell-sent bastard actually ever... fuck, that's not a question he wants to ask now. How would that conversation even begin to form? 'Oh hey, I thought all this time we boned and then you hit it, quit it and stole my fucking wife- but really it was just your literal fuck doll doppelganger...for the first part. You still fucking stole my wife-!' Either way, it's not the can of worms he wants opened and aired in public...and that means no one can really find out about all the casual copulation. He can certainly make the meddling seraphim think he'd share with the council with no hesitation, however.

The monotonous moans of the Lust ring began to fade as the forgotten scrying portal began to close outside of their feathered enclosure, and he gives the other's head a warning squeeze to remind him it's his on the chopping block before gradually loosening his grip to the tune of compliance. "Pffbt! Like you've got a choice? But sure. Let's make it official ~ " Never a break from business, it seemed. Oh well...he didn't mind trying out a hellspawn's trick in this case. Releasing Lucid's face, he cracks a sinister smile at the seraphim and wriggles up some swirls of electrically charged light with a feisty flex of talons. The zap he instills in the angel once he snags his outstretched hand is a bit stronger than a static shock, but not by much.

" Deal . "

Satisfied with the last dip of a shake, he snorts at the other's fallen expression and thumps it back up with a flick of his fingers. "Don't look so disappointed ~ you're killing my vibe, and we all know murder's a big no-no up here." Smirking, he taps him in the dead center of his mouth and presses like he's fastening a button.

[marahuyomae]

My Bungou Stray Dogs Oc!

Who is She?

Name: Camelia Hirang Nawa (Also known as The Dreamful Seraphim)

Alias: The Dreamful Seraphim

Pronouns: She/Her (also comfortable using They/Them)

Age: 19

Affiliation: Port Mafia (Informant/Healer)

Birthday: January 9

Sexuality: Bisexual

Ethnicity: Half-Filipino/Japanese

Languages spoken: English, Japanese, Bisaya, Tagalog, and Illocano

Place of Birth: P. Burgos St., Cebu City, Cebu, Philippines

Residency: Pacific Royal Court Minato-Mirai Urban Tower, Nishi-ku

"The heart experiences joy when the mind fades into slumber, as the mind cannot hinder the heart from moving on its own once more."

Cognition

Camelia Hirang Nawa's personality: wishing to slumber without concerning herself with the dangers at hand, lacking exceptional abilities, but resourcefully using her problem-solving skills and empathetic listening abilities, prone to daydreaming and seen as airheaded, yet possessing exceptional intelligence and exceptional control over her emotions.

Strengths: exceptional intelligence on both emotional and academic fronts; remarkable powers of observation; exceptional control over her emotions and healthy method for dealing with stress and hardship; calm and collected in even the most dangerous situations; and level-headed in the face of life's challenges.

Weaknesses: absent-mindedness; low stamina requiring excessive sleep and leading to setbacks in planned tasks; supernatural power requires significant energy and leaves her lacking motivation; susceptible to manipulation; and emotionally dependent upon those who show caring behavior towards her due to lacking beneficial parental or adult role models.

Likes:

Collecting and cherishing items from the Philippines

Preparing and consuming Filipino cuisine and pastries

Dislikes:

Being ridiculed for her gender

The belief that foreigners are superior beings who deserve to be served and respected by her own people, a mindset that recalls the historical and damaging mindset of colonization.

Habits: She eats when in distress, she sleeps when in danger, and she shares her knowledge of serial killers and the history and methods of torture in the most out-of-timing situations.

Fears: As a result of her lack of adequate guidance or support from adults in her life, she feels frightened of becoming too close to others and fears abandonment. This manifests as a fear of revealing her emotions, as well as apprehension regarding the future and the possibility of being discarded with little regard for her worth.

Moral Alignment: The existence of her attachment issues leads to her unshakable loyalty, making her eager to serve those she admires and obey their every directive without question. Furthermore, her moral compass is driven by her religious convictions, which cause her to believe that touching something pure and untainted, such as an innocent child, should not be soiled by lascivious inclinations. Due to her deeply held religious beliefs, she maintains her morals, even when her profession is morally questionable.

"While time may have passed and changed the world around, it can never take away the inherent dignity and worth of oneself."

Combat

Ability: A Deity's Favor

Ability Description: Her ability, comprised of the creation of numerous, colossal eyes, enables her to closely examine her environment from within a radius of 50 meters. Additionally, she possesses the ability to bestow a ‘gift’ or blessing to individuals of the ability’s choice and will, which can be defined as a ‘favor’ or ‘deal.’

Ability Weaknesses: The power, which requires a sizable amount of energy for long-distance observation, renders the user drowsy. The numerous, sizable eyes produced by her ability, upon being touched or injured, also inflict pain on the owner of the eyes. Furthermore, the individual cannot predict whom the power has chosen to bless each moment. Hence, the user is unable to stop the granting of the "blessing," even if they desire to do so. Moreover, the ability may produce the recipient's most cherished or selfish desires independent of the user's consent or knowledge.

Fighting Style: From the Philippines, this person employs Yaw-Yan, or the 'Dance of Death,' a specialized martial art. Founded by Napoleon A. Fernandez and based on older styles of Filipino fighting techniques, the Yaw-Yan technique emerged in the 1970s and promptly rose to prominence in the Filipino kickboxing scene. Boasting a smooth, flowing style similar to dance yet incorporating powerful movements, this martial art is often accompanied by a bolo and referred to as Arnis or Eskrima.

Weapons: Camelia, whose supernatural ability is not primarily focused on offense or combat, always keeps a weapon on hand for protection and, if necessary, the defense or slaying of an adversary. Depending on the demands of the situation, she might use a bolo, barong, Kampilan, Kris, Talibong, Panabas, or Ginunting, tailoring the specific type of sword that she employs to the characteristics of her opponent.

Speed: 8.9/10

Strength: 7.9/10

Stamina: 1.3/10

Smarts: 8.6/10

Stealth: 10/10

Dexterity: 10/10

Decision-making: 3.2/10

Social Skills: 5.7/10

Creativity: 9/10

[sylviaplathink]

Via @annenoodle on Twitter

...

MAD GIRL’S LOVE SONG

A Villanelle

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan’s men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you’d return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

–Sylvia Plath, written 1954, in: The Collected Poems, 1981

[ausp-ice]

Guardians have some level of unification via the organization known as the Chorus. It is not an authoritative or commanding organization, more one of bookkeeping and providing resources. The feeling it has is more like a library, and in early times, information was kept track of in magical books. In modern times, it's more of a magical-digital database.

Telahiel's current Guardian incarnation! They often go by Tela and accept any pronouns. He is a Principality as well. Personal Website | Discord Server | Auris Mythic Lore | Auris Angel Lore

The administrators, referred to as the Principalities, regularly communicate with the Seraphim through dreams; they sleep upon a magic circle that allows their minds to blend with the collective consciousness of the Seraphim within their dreams without destroying their body with their Grace. When they wake, much of it fades like a dream, but they will generally know of any new Guardians so they can check the database, and they will occasionally remember a few details, sometimes of important current, past, or even possible future events. They record their dreams in books they call "Revelations," which may contain arguably prophetic information, but much of it can be mundane or confusing. If there is actually something important, then the Principalities may contact other angels to act.

Being a Principality is a bit like volunteer work, generally for those walking the path of Grace. Some take it as their eternal duty, while others just volunteer for a bit every now and then.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Lovely - Dean Winchester x fem!reader part 3

Based on the song Lovely covered by Lauren Babic and Seraphim. Also Happy Destiel Day!

Reader goes to hell and must survive or become a demon. Will the Winchesters reach her in time?

——–

Dean sat in the Impala outside the building he had dropped Castiel off at. His leg was bouncing at an alarming rate and his eyes kept darting from the clock on the dashboard and the door. Even though the angel had just gone into hell with Meg, he was growing more and more nervous. He should have a little more faith in Cas, he was practically a pro at getting into Hell and saving their asses. This time felt different though. Something was going to go wrong, he just knew it. 

-

As he straddled her, Dean watched as her blood dripped off of his knife. (Y/N) coughed, blood coming up and splattering on her chin and chest. His weight, combined with the multiple stab wounds in her body, was making it hard for her to breathe. 

“Ya know, you’re runnin’ out of time. You’re looking for a better place.” Dean ran his fingers over the knife, collecting the thick blood and then putting it in his mouth, tasting it. He hummed, “You could always turn to torture.” She glared up at him, then relaxed with a smile. He stared down at her blood stained grin in confusion. 

"I'm alright. I know someday I'll make it out of here. So tear me to pieces, skin and bone. I don't care." She took a shallow breath, "I don't know what he did to you, Dean..." She reached up, ghosting her fingers over his cheek. Her touch made him seize up, a blush on his cheeks either from embarrassment or anger.

"I'm gonna get you outta here. No matter what." Her eyes fluttered shut, her hand falling to the blood covered floor as her life drained away once again.

-

Castiel and Meg, having already crossed the desert plain of raining blood, found themselves at the edge of a decrepit forest of dead trees. The demon held her hand up, signaling the angel to stop before walking further into the wood.

"There's something here." She said, “Can you sense that?” Castiel glanced over the scape until something caught his eye. There seemed to be an area in a clearing up ahead that had not been touched by the hellish rain storm. Pointing up just ahead, Castiel then noticed a demon standing outside a cave mouth near where the rain refused to touch. 

“There’s a shield around that cave, meaning someone important doesn’t want to be found.” Meg looked around the landscape. 

“A knight of Hell has (Y/N)?” Castiel narrowed his eyes. 

“Unlikely.” She shrugged, “But it could be someone who’s climbed the ranks in the torture world. Someone who’s started to enjoy themselves.” Movement from inside the cave mouth made Castiel grab Meg by the shoulder, both of them behind the tree. From around the dead bark, they saw a familiar face talking to the demons outside the cave. It was Dean, but it couldn’t be. 

“What the Hell?” Meg whispered, “Who would go as far as appearing to her as Dean to torture her?” 

“Could it be Crowley?” Castiel had not looked too closely at the demon. 

“Shush, feather butt.” Meg whispered. Castiel looked down at the demon before poking his head around the tree so he could see. 

“This stupid bitch.” The demon grunted, “She won’t shut the hell up...” 

“Is this like her boyfriend or something?” The demon asked, “Why don’t I do you a favor because listening to her harp at you has been more annoying than being sandwiched between two beds of nails. Why don’t I play the boyfriend card and you just...” The demon smirked, “Be yourself, John.” Castiel’s eyes widened. Dean’s façade faded away to reveal the patriarch of the Winchester family, John, as the other demon took on the form of his son. 

“Well, if it ain’t papa Winchester himself.” Meg said as they watched the two enter the cave, “Alright, I’ll take down the barrier, we get in, we get the girl, we get out. Easy Peasy.” 

Cas glanced down at the demon, “I’m afraid it will not be as easy as a peasy.” 

“That’s not...” Meg sighed, “Why not?” 

“John Winchester is ruthless. He won’t go down without a fight. If I know (Y/N), she’s been getting under his skin, and he’ll fight to keep her on the table.” 

“A challenge. Perfect.” Castiel didn’t understand how the situation would be ideal, but then he figured that she was being fictitious. She was often fictitious.  

---

“After everything I taught you, you’re still a goddamn screw up!” John’s booming words seemed to shake the room. (Y/N) struggled to open her eyes, her arms shaking as she tried to get up from the floor. Her skin stuck for a moment to the tile with old blood. She found John shoving Dean into the room, a large knife in his hands. 

“I did what you told me to do!” Dean shouted back, “I have always done what you told me to do! My entire life!” There was a crack in his voice. 

John chuckled darkly, motioning to her, “You can’t even torture right. Really, Dean, how hard is it?” 

“Dad...” 

With the knife still gripped tightly in his hand, John swung and cracked Dean across the face with the knife, splitting his cheek. Dean cried out, holding his face. (Y/N) tried to get to her feet, using the torture slab to get into a standing position. 

“Dean...” She reached out to him, her voice resembled that of someone who had smoked a pack a cigarette’s every hour for their entire life. His eyes were wide and full of fear. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry...” Dean said, using one hand to cover his face and the other to reach out to her. Suddenly, the hand coming towards her was cut off cleanly by one of John’s obsidian blades. She screamed loudly, his blood spraying across her face. Dean gripped his wrist, yelling out and staring at John in shock. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Dean’s voice seemed to change, like there was an unexpected change, true bewilderment.

"Shut up." John said darkly, grabbing Dean by his hair and pulling him away from her.

"John, stop!" She cried, taking a step forward. Her knees buckled under her, dropping down to the floor once again.

He looked at her then, eyes black as midnight. He had the blade against Dean's throat, a strong grip on his hair.

"This is your fault, (Y/N). All of this was your fault." His voice had become deeper, the sound of the reverb off the walls made her ears ring.

"Hey, this wasn't part of the deal." Dean glared up, trying to keep John's knife away, failing to do so.

"It doesn't matter." His father said, "You're going to die and she won't help you. She can't. Because she's weak. I told you that love would be the death of you. Take you away from what really mattered." Then, John slit Dean's throat, his eyes never breaking contact from hers.

Some of (Y/N)'s senses seemed to shut down then. She couldn't hear the shrill scream that escaped her throat. Her body numbed, no longer able to feel the insufferable heat of the room, or the grime that had taken over body.

Watching as the blood flowed from Dean's neck, she had become utterly broken. Dean's wide eyes, still shocked, stared into hers as he sputtered. His remaining hand pressed to his neck to keep the blood from coming out to no avail. With a blood curdling huk, he fell to the floor, convulsive and pale. And then he was dead. Her senses came back when John threw the blade on the ground, the volcanic glass shattering around her.

"No...." She sobbed, "No, no, no..." She crawled, ignoring the cuts on her hands from the shards of black, taking Dean's head in her lap. She could feel the last of his life blood soaking into her clothes. Even as it grew cold, the blood burned against her skin like it was searing into her soul. This was her fault. All her fault. She should have stopped him but John was right. She was too weak.

"Are you happy now?" John's voice was raspy with anger. Grabbing a fist full of her hair, he forced her to look up at his eyes. They were black, an endless void, her own reflection stared back at her.

This was the first time she had seen herself since arriving in Hell. She was gaunt, eyes sunken into her sockets. Her skin covered in grime and dried blood, blood that had crusted and matted into her hair. She was dirty and disgusting. Just like how she felt inside.

"You got anything else smart to say, little girl?" He spat.

(Y/N) held tight to the flannel that covered Dean's corpse, prepared for whatever John deemed fit of filth like her.

But that didn't mean she couldn't piss him off some more.

"Just a thought..." She took a deep breath in, "You went on a while demon hunting binge in Mary's name. But look what you've done to her children, all you had left of her. Why didn't you just grieve, John?" She smiled, "After years of healing, you would have looked at your children and saw her in them. Her laugh coming from Sam's lips as you tickled him. Her smile on Dean's face when you teach him how to play catch." She inhaled sharply when John's fingers tightening their hold, pulling her upwards to silence her.

"Shut up."

"I figured you out." She hummed, "It was never about Mary. It was about you taking control of a situation you weren't ready for. So you prepped yourself and your children for a fight that would kill you, all of you. You selfish son of a bitch."

"That's it. I've had enough of your mouth." John kneeled down, grabbing a shard of glass and holding it to her lips, "Think I might start taking your tongue when you first wake up from now on. It'll be music to my ears hearing your scream." He pulled his arm back to strike but the room seemed to change. The doorway opened abruptly, bright light filling the frame.

John’s squinted, shielding his eyes with his free arm, still keeping a tight grip on her: “What in the hell-” 

“You’ve been a bad boy, Johnny. And, quite frankly, you’re starting to piss me off.” Even though the light burned her eyes, they opened wide at the familiar voice. 

Meg?

The demon appeared suddenly, shielding their eyes from the light. In her hands was a large baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. She swung, cracking John across the face. His grip on her head loosened enough for her to jerk away while. Meg gave her a wink, then called towards the door: “I’ll keep big guy occupied, get outta here!”

Just as she was being saved, her eyes lolled shut from exhaustion and blood loss. The last things she felt was a searing pain on her shoulder and a light cooling feeling. 

-

Out of the corner of Dean’s eye, he saw the door to the abandoned house swing open. Castiel staggered out, his tan trench coat covered in soot and burn patches. Dean turned baby over just as the angel opened the door and fell into the front seat. 

Cas took deep breaths, his arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was holding something in. 

“Hurry.” He grumbled deeply. Dean pressed his foot down on the gas, peeling out on the gravel of the backstreet. 

“Where’s Meg?” He asked, glancing from his friend to the road.

“Busy making the diversion.” The demon woman suddenly appeared in the backseat, holding a bloody bat in her lap. Dean slightly appreciated the fact that Meg didn’t put the bloody bat directly on the leather.  She blew out air, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. 

-

Once getting to Bobby’s place, they went downstairs into the panic room where they had been keeping the coffin that held (Y/N)’s corpse. Castiel had gone down alone, leaving Meg, Dean, and Bobby upstairs. 

“How’s Hell?” Dean asked from the recliner chair. 

Meg sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning on the entryway of the living room: “Bit gloomy.” She glanced at the old man in the wheelchair that was glaring at her intensely: “Whaddya say, Hotwheels? How about we let bygones be bygones?” 

Bobby only cocked his shotgun, used exclusively for salt, in response. 

“Fair enough.” Meg shrugged. All their attention turned to Castiel who appeared silently on the other side of the room. 

Dean stood up anxiously: “Is she okay?” 

He sighed, “It will take time for her body to fully heal. She has been decomposing for five months.” 

“Yeah, thanks for the lovely air freshener, by the way.” Bobby said gruffly. 

“I gotta tell you. Getting her out wasn’t easy.” Meg said, “Your dad fights dirty.” 

Dean blinked, narrowing his eyes at the demon, “What?” 

The demon raised her eyebrows, “Did feather-butt not tell you?” 

Dean’s eyes turned to Castiel who still had a raggedness about him, “What the hell is she talking about?” 

“Dean, it’s complicated-” 

“How-How is it complicated?” Dean walked up to the angel, “Was...” He paused, feeling the weight of what he was about to say. It felt like one ton weights on his shoulders, dragging him down to the floor, back to Hell.

“Was my dad torturing her?” His voice was softer than he intended, mostly because his voice almost gave out. Castiel didn’t say anything, but his eyes told Dean everything he wanted to know. 

Without another word, Dean shoved past Castiel and towards the panic room. He slammed the door shut, his shoulders rising and falling sharply from his heavy breathing. He took a chair that had been beside the casket, throwing it across the room with an angry shout. Fingers tugging at his hair as he slid down the wall and onto the concrete floor. How could it be possible that his dad was a torturer in Hell? How could he give up? How could he do these terrible things? Dad wasn’t....

Even he knew saying dad wasn’t like that was wrong. But even now, even all these years later... Dean couldn’t admit to himself the things that he father did were wrong. So many years blaming himself for his punishments. That he deserved the bruises and the beatings. 

-

When (Y/N) opened her eyes again she was in darkness, she tried to sit up only for her forehead to make contact with the top of whatever she was in. The thought dawned on her then that she was in a coffin, her heartbeat accelerating at the fear that John had buried her alive. She started beating on the wood, screaming at the top of her lungs. 

“LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!” The new fear was that the lid was taken off, waiting for John to grab her and drag her out and back onto the slab. But instead she was met by Dean and Sam’s concerned faces. 

“Dean...” She sat up quickly, even if it caused her to feel woozy and nauseous, wrapping her arms around Dean’s neck. The same neck she had seen split open in a bloom of red. 

“Is he coming back?” She whispered, “Because I don’t think I can do this anymore...” Dean shared a glance with his brother, then hid his face in her hair. He didn’t want Sam to see the tears in his his, he didn’t want Sam to know what their father had done. 

--------

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[ionianstar]

Imagine Luke and his classmates performing Oh Happy Day from Sister Act 2.

And Luke is equally as talented and equally as afraid.

xxxxxx

He and his classmates had been rehearsing for weeks, building up the courage to believe in themselves and to perform. MC is an older angel who had agreed to supervise the rehearsals and direct the performance.

They readied themselves on the morning of the performance. It was to be performed at assembly on Monday morning, in front of the entire student body.

Their hands were all clammy as they clasped eaxh others' arms and laced pinkies and leaned heads on shoulders while standing in an empty classroom waiting to be called up.

MC was sitting on the teacher's desk as they all stood around her, nervous and excited. She made sure to meet each of their faces and give them a bright smile.

"You will be fine. You are all so talented and so dedicated. And I'll be right up there with you. I am so proud of all of you." Some of them started sniffling and MC tutted and opened her arms. The young angels all rushed forward, throwing their arms around her and each other.

"Oh my loves, don't cry too much. You'll sound like little frogs up there." She spoke into the mass of white and gold and teal around her. Some of them chuckled and cleared their throats. They finally relented and broke away.

"Now, final warm up. We need those throats nice and warm so we give our best." She stood and they all elegantly scrambled to form a neat circle. Luke slid next to her and sbe felt his small, sweaty fingers interlace with her own. She squeezed his hand and continued.

"Vowels."

A soft chorus of voices rose into the air and MC closed her eyes, smiling. As they practiced, she felt Luke's grip loosen gradually until his hand fell away entirely and his voice rose clear and strong beside her.

As their voices faded out, a knock sounded at rhe door and MC opened her eyes to see Simeon, beautifully clad in his uniform, leaning against the door frame.

Tiny gasps echoed in the room and she swore she heard Anna in particular say "Oh sweet Father", followed by the sound of a smack. She swallowed her own giggle even as the rest of the students didn't.

"You all sound more and more beautiful everytime I hear you. I don't know how you keep doing it. That hall will be a sight and sound to rival even the seraphim." He praised the young angels as he walked into the room. They shuffled around and made space for him next to her.

Luke's hand grabbed at yours again and you glanced at him, his head bowed for some reason.

"I actually came to tell you they'll be ready in about 5 minutes so we can start filing out." Simeon's voice caused her to take in all their bright faces again.

"Luke, would you do us the honor of saying a prayer before we go?" MC turned to the young boy and he nodded. They all held hands again and bowed their heads.

"Dear Father, thank you for allowing us to perform and giving us these talents to use for Your worship. Guide us, keep us, grant us the courage and confidence to perform well. In Your name, Amen"

A chorus of "amens" and shaky exhales.

"I know you will all do wonderfully." Simeon looked around at all of them and they returned his smile

"Let's go rattle Heaven." MC winked and they visibly relaxed. They formed a line and filed out of the classroom. Luke took up the rear and MC didn't miss the affectionate squeeze Simeon gave him.

MC and Simeon followed behind them as the neat line of white hats and shirts walked up to the stage and took up their positions. She walked to the center of the stage and Simeon sat on her far right at the piano.

She glimpsed some clasped hands and smiled at them all. "Focus on me and Simeon. That's all."

Simeon began playing and she saw a few visibly tense, notably Luke as he began.

The chorus came out softer than normal and huskier than they robably intended. She motioned for Luke to step forward even as she swayed. He continued singing and stepped forward out of formation and began their practice vocalizations.

They followed along and tension melted away as their voices gained strength.

"Relax, Luke." MC whispered and Luke's lips pulled up into a smile and he opened his mouth to sing again.

Oh, he was clear as daylight.

Even the chorus swelled behind him and they stepped and swayed. Here were the beautiful cherubs of the Celestial Realm. Here were her little angels.

Another vocalization adlib and their voices soared in the hall.

She stepped and swayed with them as they clapped and Luke belted behind her. She could see Simeon swaying in his seat and she beamed at them all. As she mouthed the words, the skin on her arms raised and she felt a shudder run through her and she reveled in it. They were all smiling so widely and confidently she almost cried.

These cherubs worked so hard and Luke the hardest of all, spending countless hours perfecting his pitch and rhythm with Simeon and herself. He was so afraid at first but he pushed through. Him and Anna working especially late nights to choreograph movements and formation. It was truly a class effort and MC was so proud of them.

Luke's voice rang out behind her and she was about to look around at him when he released a falsetto. MC whipped around and the hall erupted into cheers around them. She collected herself and turned back to the group who were all staring wide-eyed but still singing. Their final exclamation seemed to shake the very ground they stood on and they were almost drowned out by applause and cheering.

MC turned on the spot, flashed a smile and bowed. She knew the students on stage and Simeon mimicked the action and by the time they all exited the stage, the cheering hadn't stoped.

She was doubly impressed by their neat and orderly trek back to the classroom. Simeon had the good sense to shut the door behind them.

At the click of the lock, they all erupted into laughter and exclamations. The students all crowded around Luke, who seemed to still be in a daze, hugging and smiling at and with him.

MC caught his eye and he walked over to her and stood in front of her for a few moments. She understood the high after performing and put her arms around him.

"I'm very proud of you, Luke. You were beautiful out there." She spoke into his cap and his smaller arms wrapped around her torso.

"You all were. I don't think any cherub class has ever evoked such a response in the student body. I am proud of you all." Simeon added and in an instant, several smaller figures rushed to hug him. Sniffles were heard and MC could make out Simeon's quiet cooing to the young angels. Luke finally released her and she smiled down at him, even as a watery smile graced his face. She brushed his hair away from his forehead and pressed a kiss there.

"I had fun. Being on stage with all my friends was easier than I thought." Luke looked around at his classmates and they sent him smiles and thumbs-up signs. Simeon came over, after soothing many a young angel, and Luke threw his arms around Simeon's waist and Simeon huffed a laugh.

"I am so proud of you, my little one. You were spectacular." Simeon plucked off Luke's hat and ran a hand through his blonde hair. Luke gave another watery laugh.

"Ya know," Anna began, standing next to MC, "you guys are kinda like our parents. Which means you're also kinda married." MC gawked at Anna as the younger angel simply smiled knowingly and looked between her and Simeon.

"So that'd mean you kinda have a crush on your dad." MC smirked down at Anna as a horrified expression crossed her face.

"On second thought, you're my big sister." Anna nodded to herself and left MC's side as Luke joined their group of friends.

Simeon came to rest against the teacher's desk with her and she allowed herself to lean her head on his arm.

"You did well, MC." Simeon spoke very softly and MC smiled tiredly.

"So did you, Simeon. We all did well." She patted his leg and he chuckled.

Luke saw them in his periphery and smiled to himself. If this was the catalyst to get those two to finally confess, he'd happily sing on stage until it happened.

xxxxxx

[weirdletter]

Daniele Serra Artbook, introduction by Clive Barker, limited edition, PS Publishing, 2020. Cover art and illustrations by Daniele Serra, info: pspublishing.co.uk.

An oversized collection of artworks: signed and numbered jacketed hardcover limited to 500 copies; 26 lettered jacketed hardcovers in a slipcase signed by Daniele Serra and Clive Barker. Daniele Serra’s main influences and inspirations come from weird and horror fiction written by H.P. Lovecraft and William Hope Hodgson, Ridley Scott movies, japanese horror films and Clive Barker’s works. His love for horror culture started before his painting career, making him quickly develop his signature style: high contrast paintings with bright and strong dark colors, curved strokes and shadows, and a particular attention to his characters’ gaze and expression. As a comic book artist Dani worked for Image Comics (Fade to Black, written by Jeff Mariotte), Boom! Studios, (Clive Barker’s Hellraiser: Bestiary), Titan Comics (Darksouls), IDW Publishing (The Crow: Memento Mori, written by Micol Beltramini), Seraphim INC. (Clive Barker’s Hellraiser Anthology volumes 1 and 2, both covers and interior art). In 2014 Dani worked with worldwide bestselling author Joe R. Lansdale, on the Graphic Novel I Tell You It’s Love for Short, Scary Tales Publications, his work has been included in books by Stephen King and Ramsey Campbell and he provided the art for Graphic Novels working with authors like Clive Barker, Marcello Fois and others.

[ontherockswithsalt]

Noble is messing about in English class and as a punishment is reading out some romantic poetry. Jamie is daydreaming while watching him. The teacher asks Jamie to continue and he has no idea where he's up to. He's flustered and Noble is amused and intrigued...

OHMYGOD I’m obsessed. A classic piney high school moment. You know I love this, so I wrote something. Only instead of messing about, Noble’s asleep. So I tweaked it a little, but I hope you like it.

~~~

I can hear his slow, rhythmic breathing from where I sit. On the far row beside me and one row up, Noble sits slumped over on his desk with his face in the crook of his folded arms, totally asleep. 

With the lights off in the classroom, and some jumpy video playing on the TV at the front of the room, its dull narration crackling on about poetic structure and rhyme schemes, I don't blame him. My eyes just sort of glaze over, fixated on the gradual rise and fall of his back.

It catches me off guard a little when the harsh overhead lights make a sudden appearance and I watch Mrs. Lovett bent over in a struggle to find the stop button on the VCR. I blink hard and manage a deep breath in an attempt to wake up my brain.

"So!" Mrs. Lovett calls out. "A villanelle. Jamie Reagan, please define a villanelle for us."

"Um." I adjust in my chair. "A uh-- a poem with nineteen lines--"

"Comprised of?"

"Five… tercets and one quatrain," I recite, glancing down at my notes.

"That's right. With alternating repetition. For example, Mister Sanfino…" She raises her voice as she approaches his desk. The lights coming on had done nothing to make him stir. 

Mrs. Lovett will make you pay for sleeping in her class and I press my lips together with this kind of second-hand regret that he had let himself. 

But I haven't talked to Noble in weeks. For a while, one-on-one tutoring sessions left us with intentions that became... blurry. Assignments were done but then forgotten about, and instead of taking off like he usually did, he started to find reasons to stick around with me. Sometimes it was to go grab something to eat, hang out in my room, or just go drive around.  

But after a few too many of those, and one in particular where he showed up at my house wasted… I had to make something up and get him home and there was a moment when his hand was in my hair as I drove and I didn't stop him… and-- I don't know, ever since, we've just quit hanging out. 

"Noble." Mrs. Lovett repeats his name.

"Hm." He grunts.

"Sit up," she commands. "Open your eyes. And grace us with a reading. Right now."

Lifting his head, he inhales sharply as if he was sunk down in a truly profound sleep. I watch as he takes a moment to let his eyes adjust, confusion drawn across his angular features before he eases back in his seat.

"Page ninety-eight in your anthology," our teacher directs us and everyone opens their paperback copy of collected poetry. "Mister Sanfino will read for us Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath. One exemplar of a villanelle."

Noble lifts his gaze to her, waiting a beat to see if she really meant it. He scratches a hand through his hair. 

A glance at his empty desk gives away that he showed up to class with nothing. Looking over, his neighboring desk unoccupied, he turns his head and I meet his wordless request when I pass over my book. 

He takes it, tugs on his blue uniform tie before he clears his throat finds the page, while the rest of us wait an eternity. Because obviously, Mrs. Lovett has to win this moment.

He pauses when he finds the poem and I watch him lick his bottom lip before he starts.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead," He reads. 

There's a giggle from somewhere else in the class. It makes his cheek pull up a little in amusement before he goes on.

"I lift my lids and all is born again.

I think I made you up inside my head."

Damn, I love his voice. Smooth and sleepy like this, it stirs up a reaction inside me. It's warm and just a little gravelly and makes me think about the times it's been so close I could feel it in my chest.

"The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,

And arbitrary blackness gallops in:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.”

Shifting, he gets more comfortable, his voice waking up a little.

"I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck--" He says this part slowly, deliberate like he's taking a moment to consider the lines and not just absently getting through them. "--Kissed me quite insane.

I think I made you up inside my head."

Without a book of my own to follow along with, I peer down at my notebook, letting my vision go blurry on my handwriting while I listen.

"God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade--" He continues.

"Exit seraphim and Satan's men:

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead."

He leans back, holding the book open in his hands, so goddamn casual now with one long leg propped out straight into the aisle. He does that, he takes up space -- his own and mine -- when he's around me. It's almost intrusive the way it steals some of my air. But when he disappears from me the way he has, and returns the space, the air, it's like I miss giving it to him. Come back and just fucking take it.

"I fancied you'd return the way you said--" He reads.

I look up, letting my gaze roam his profile.

"But I grow old and I forget your name.

I think I made you up inside my head.

"I should have loved a thunderbird instead;

At least when spring comes they roar back again."

He stops for a slow breath, ending it when he clears his throat before he finishes:

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I think I made you up inside my head."

Letting go of the pages, the book drops closed and he offers it back to me. When he does, his gaze catches mine and fuck, my throat gets hot from just that connected second. He simply nods, an unspoken thanks, and adjusts in his chair.

“Thank you, that was quite lovely, Mister Sanfino,” Mrs. Lovett notes as she paces the front of the room, back to her desk.

He smirks. “For you, it’s my pleasure.”

“Think you can handle consciousness for the remainder of first period?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[seraphimcollections]

fading part. ii

pairing: johnny silverhand x reader

summary: fate was a double edged sword. finally you were free of your gilded cage, free to possibly start anew. but old habits die hard.

warnings: gun violence, murder, blood, kidnapping, grooming (not by johnny), rockstar behavior, angst angst angst! sexual implications, eventual smut, slowburn, secret enemies to lovers, fluff.

a.n: hey everyone! thx for the love and for your patience. luv ya!

word count: 3k

masterlist

///[memory shard detected]…uploading…//[2010][memory uploaded]///

You squirmed in your seat across from your uncle. You found yourself seated across from him in your parlor, sat at the table in the center of the room. You couldn’t rid the feeling of shame not knowing your uncle’s visit was scheduled for today, not having the courage to look him in the eye — even if they were hidden behind his glasses. Saburo Arasaka seemingly didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, choosing instead to stare you down from across the table. His gaze alone made you feel small like a child. The painful silence finally ended when Yumi set the kettle of piping hot green tea between the two of you. 

“It seems my presence comes as quite the shock to you, niece,” Saburo finally spoke in his gravelly voice. 

You gulped before finally speaking up, choosing to keep your gaze safely in your fiddling hands, “yes, well it was a bit of surprise.” 

“I tried to warn you,” Tomie spoke over you, making you flinch. 

You laughed nervously, “I suppose you did, didn’t you?” 

Saburo watched as Yumi poured him some tea before serving you, only speaking when Yumi left you, bowing deeply before. 

“You’re slacking on your studies,” Saburo said sharply. “Your teachers have told me so.” 

You sighed. “Yes, well I haven’t felt the motivation to learn something I have no passion for….” 

“That may be so, but you’ve also been slacking in your monitoring of the Net as well, mei.”

You supposed there was no way news of your slump would make its way back to your uncle eventually. Everything did. You let out another heavy sigh, encasing the small cup of tea in your hands. 

”How is Yorinobu? I’m sure he’s making strides. And pretty Hanako, how is she holding up?” You try. 

“話題を変えるなよ、ヒナ。don’t try to change the subject、 Hina,” Saburo frowned. 

You bowed your head again, “ごめんなさい I’m sorry” 

“Must I remind you of how integral your skill is in the protection of Arasaka?” Saburo said. 

“No, uncle,” you said submissively. 

“Good. Enough of this rot, tomorrow you are to resume your lessons while continuing your surveillance,” Saburo sipped his tea. 

He continued to talk but it all but faded away. It was all the same, day in and day out. Wake up, eat, lessons for the majority of the day then surveillance late into the night until you were on the edge of letting your brain fry before collapsing to sleep. And then start all over again the next day. Never stopping, the wheel keeps turning. Even when you showed signs that you needed help, like now, it went ignored. When will it end? 

Your gaze hardened as your hands turned to fists in your lap. It’s now or never.

”Uncle, can I ask you something?” You say, trying your best to keep your voice steady. 

“Anything, my child,” Saburo said, though you knew in his tone he was only half interested. 

“What would you say if, if I were to go out for a little while,” you say, carefully looking up to watch his expression. 

Saburo nods, “of course, an outing to grab more essentials. We can arrange something for you that way security can accompany you.” 

You almost wanted to laugh. Was it that hard to believe that you wanted to experience life beyond these walls? Did he truly believe that you would only aspire to be under his thumb? An unfamiliar feeling began to bubble in your chest, your face beginning to get hot. This feeling, you recognized it from the faces of those people rioting in front of your family’s name. Anger. 

Angry how you are constantly dismissed, overlooked. Only seen for your skills and nothing beyond that. Part of you should know better — this may be a family business, but it was still a business as your uncle had been at the helm for almost a century and there was no sign of him releasing the reins, completely anyway. You were grateful, of course, no one who wasn’t in your position would have access to the best chrome and tech in the industry. Your life was privileged, you just weren’t sure just how privileged — and there was no way of knowing if you remained trapped in this gilded cage. 

You remained silent for a moment, shuffling your thoughts in your head. You knew your uncle was a clever man so you had to play your cards carefully. You took in a breath before straightening your posture. Saburo met your gaze of conviction as a twinge of interest. 

”I meant going on an extended stay, somewhere beyond the city. Possibly the country,” you say firmly. 

Saburo cocks an eyebrow, “a trip? That’s preposterous, where is this coming from?” 

“I believe it would help me get out of this slump,” you reasoned, “I wouldn’t be away for long, only a short while to regroup and resume my lessons and my work for the corporation. That way I can perform at my best-“

”And where would you go?” Saburo frowned, obviously not pleased by your proposal. 

You shrugged, “I haven’t given the location much thought, but-“ 

“The answer is no,” Saburo had shut you down. 

Your next words died on the tongue as your hope was beginning to drain quickly. 

“But uncle-“ 

“No,” Saburo glared at you, “you are safe here. Not out there where any lowlife could easily abduct you and use you for their own personal gain or pleasure. No, I won’t allow it.” 

“Uncle, please listen-“ 

“You shall remain here and resume your studies as planned, end of discussion.”

You let out an exasperated breath and shook your head, “why won’t you listen?” 

“Why should I? You are young and naive, my young niece. You are unaware of just how evil and corrupt this world is. No matter where you go, rot touches all — except here, where I can keep you safe,” Saburo stood to his feet. “I won’t hear anymore of this, understood?” 

You couldn’t justify an answer. Everything screamed for you to submit like you always had, to go with the status quo. But there was this small, irritating voice that nagged at you to not let this go. 

“Then I will remain miserable for the rest of my days,” your voice weakened, letting your head fall. “Uncle, I’ve lost count of the days, I don’t even know what today is. I’ve sunk into his routine that is slowly drowning me and tearing me apart from the inside out.” 

You looked up at him, fire in your eyes, “I am eternally grateful for the protection and life you have given me. Raising me from a young age, taking me under your wing as your own after mother…. But as I remain here, I feel as if I am nothing but a machine, built to only produce results. I am blessed with my skills, and I’m so very grateful for the tools at my disposal.

But please know, I will never feel like I have lived if you continue to keep me here. I will never stop asking, and my condition will continue to decline. Please, see reason, uncle.”

Saburo stood across from in silence, his eyes analyzing you. It was at this moment you realized his gaze didn’t make you falter, you maintained your gaze into his eyes. The silence felt like it rolled on forever until Saburo shattered it. 

“I will give it some thought,” he said, watching your face light up, “but until then you return to your studies, understood?” 

You beamed and nodded your head excitedly, “yes, of course, thank you uncle!” 

Saburo nodded, before leaving the room, signaling his goodbye. You couldn’t help but celebrate, jumping from your seat and throwing your hands over your head. 

“Yes!” You whispered to yourself, holding your hands to your racing chest. “I hope this works.” 

Saburo rounded the corner before stopping, his hands hidden in his sleeves. 

“Tomie, run a diagnostic,” he ordered. 

A few seconds passed before Tomie’s voice chimed quieter and out of earshot of you. 

“The young mistress remains healthy and uncorrupted, master,” she answered. 

“And her brain neurons, no discrepancies to be seen?” He said, his face stoic. 

”No master Saburo. Her neural pathways stay harbored at a safe 94%, two percent lower than last month however,” Tomie said. 

“Hm, very well then. Keep an eye on her and notify me of any differences,” Saburo began his path to the AV pad again. “I don’t need any ghosts rearing their heads now.” 

///[memory shard complete]...ERROR - MEMORY LOST///

/[new memory shard detected - upload commencing…]\

Surprising to you, the escalation to your spontaneous trip outside of Osaka. You were shocked when your Uncle had asked you (though it didn’t sound like he was asking) to accompany him on a business trip. You immediately jumped at the chance, excited to finally not only be able to leave your lavish apartment, but possibly even the country. You were excited, until he told you where this said business trip was taking place. Night City, one of the last free cities in the Western hemisphere and one of Arasaka’s strongest footholds. Also, home to one of the biggest rocker bands, Samurai. Your expression gave you away easily. 

“I expected you to be happier, are you perhaps not ready for a trip?” Saburo said. 

“N-No! I am uncle, thank you for the opportunity,” you said, flustered. 

You were in fact more ready than you could ever be. You had dived deep into the lore of what was the Anarchist group that was Samurai. In the short amount of time since you’ve discovered the riot video, you’ve listened to nearly every album, even going as far to memorize some of their lyrics. You scoured the Net to find more information about its band members: Henry, the bassist, Denny, the drummer, Nancy, she played the keys and there was the vocalist and lead guitarist, Kerry. And the one that had garnered your attention the most, the lead singer Johnny Silverhand. Interestingly, you found his old military file, learning he had served in the Second Central American War before leaving, somehow ending up in the claws of Night City. 

You weren’t completely oblivious to the treacherousness that belonged to Night City. You could tell from the sour expressions from the mention of the name NC that the name didn’t garner much good feelings. But you found yourself surprisingly in good spirits. Of all the places your Uncle could have permitted you to go to, it was Night City, Silverhand’s city. It felt like fate. 

The giddiness didn’t subside as the AV soared over the towering mega buildings, your face pressed against the glass. You couldn’t stop smiling, trying to take everything in but it was impossible. Night City was so much different compared to Osaka. It had an edge as sharp as a knife that made your blood race with thrill. All this adrenaline and you hadn’t stepped foot in the city’s streets. 

“Remember why you are here, Hina,” Saburo said, his voice strict. “This isn’t all for childish fun.” 

You flinched at his harsh words, sinking back into your seat across from him. 

“Yes, I’ll try my best,” you said with your head bowed. 

Saburo nodded, “you’ll make sure to do so. This isn’t the same as hiding in your cradle and operating behind the scenes, child. This is reality, and I won’t tolerate any degree of failure.” 

Your eyes cast over to the veil folded neatly on the side table. 

“Yes but is the veil really necessary?” You question. 

“Your identity is our biggest asset, if those of our enemies were to know that Arasaka harbors the little netrunner that’s been slowing down all of their systems, they would not stop until they had a hold of such a weapon,” Saburo said matter-of-factly. 

His cold words cut you. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. A weapon? Was that all he saw in you?

“Child, it is for your protection and first and foremost,” Saburo said. “This city has a ceaseless supply of opportunists who will be happy to hold you for ransom.” 

 You nod with a small smile, “I’m not worried, uncle. I know I am protected under your watchful eye.” 

Saburo grunted at your words as the AV began to lower itself into the landing pad of Konpeki Plaza. 

“The veil, don’t take it off until I say so. The veil will conceal your appearance to the naked eye but will be untraceable within surveillance as well,” Saburo said. 

You nodded and did as you were told, placing the veil over your head and letting the translucent fabric hide your face. The door opened up to a line of Arasaka soldiers standing tall. Saburo stepped out first and you quickly after. You kept your hands clasped together in front of you and your head lowered. You could feel the intense gazes of the men and women who stood in a stiff line. They were unwavering in their rigorous training, that’s why they were able to stand where they stood today, but even they were curious to glimpse upon the face of the forgotten Arasaka child. 

You followed Saburo through a doorway and down a long corridor. Servants and corp workers alike quickly stepped aside as you were escorted further into the lavish hotel. You followed him into a private elevator accessed only by an Access Card. The two of you were joined by two of Saburo’s staff and a single soldier. Finally the doors slid open to a penthouse that almost rivaled back home. Almost. You finally lifted your head to look around the room, finding it slightly smaller than your penthouse back home but equally as lavish. You stood unsure of what to do next as Saburo’s staff brought in your bags. 

Saburo finally turned back to you, “this is where you will be staying when you are not working at Arasaka Tower. You will be free to do as you wish within these walls, but if you are to wander outside you will have a guard by your side 24/7 and your all activities will be reported back to me.”

You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed, your shoulders sagging. 

“Is something wrong?” said Saburo.

You shook your head, “no! It’s just..-” 

“Spit it out, my time is valuable,” Saburo frowned. 

“O-Of course, uncle. I was just hoping that this trip would come with more…freedom?” You voice quietly. 

Saburo scoffed, “a foolish hope. Remember your place.” 

You flinched but nodded. Saburo walked past you without as much of a glance. 

“I’ll leave you to settle in for the night. Tomorrow I will come to retrieve you for our visit to Arasaka Tower,” He stated. 

Your brow furrowed in frustration as Saburo entered the elevator and left without another word. You let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You looked at the two staff who were assisting in unpacking your things. 

“Please, leave those things to me,” you say gently. 

The two women looked at each other in unease before one spoke up, “but Arasaka-san, it’s would be-” 

“Please, I insist. Go and tend to your other more urgent tasks,” you say, turning your backs to them as you approach the living area. 

“Yes, mistress,” was all the women muttered before quickly shuffling to the elevator. 

It was only then when the elevator closed on them did you feel like you could finally breathe. You ripped the white off your head, throwing it on the marble floor in anger. This was not something you would have agreed to if you knew you were agreeing to be kept in another cage. How was this any better than Osaka? You almost wanted to cry. You shrugged off the robe from your shoulders before walking over to one of your suitcases left half unpacked. 

“Oh good,” you crouched down as you scrummage through the last items, “she didn’t find it.” 

You pulled out a slim case that you had tucked deeply in the case before you left Japan. Opening the slot revealed a small shard which you picked up and slotted into your neck. You hummed as the new software integrated itself into your cyberdeck. Your eyes glowed in a familiar white hue as you stood to your feet again. 

“Tomie, are you there?” You say quietly. 

“Yes, I am here. There is no need to speak to me directly if you wish to be discreet, Hina-san,” Tomie spoke to you in your mind. 

You sighed, “thank goodness, I’m happy to see the upload worked.” 

“It is quite the accomplishment, young mistress. You were able to compress my AI presence into a simple shard all while being undetected. Your engineering skills are becoming more than sufficient.” 

“Guess all those hours of lessons really did pay off, huh?” You chuckle as you walk up to the floor-to-ceiling window showing the neon skyline of Night City. 

The city hummed, buzzed. It felt almost alive. A beast that wouldn’t hesitate at the chance to swallow you whole. The danger was seductive in that way, and you were sure that you would not be the first or the last of its victims. Countless opportunities, endless choices, all at your fingertips -- but you only wanted one thing. To finally break free of this cage and feel something. So you were going to seek out the one thing that made you feel something new in such a long time. His face flickered in your reverie as you pressed your palm against the cool glass. 

“If this is my only chance, then I have to take it,” your gaze hardened as you stared into your reflection. “No matter what.” 

“Are you prepared for what you might risk, young mistress?” Tomie questioned. “If you are caught, you may never step outside again. Your uncle would guarantee it.” 

You let out a shaky breath, “then so be it. I can’t live knowing that I didn’t try.” 

“Then I will try to be of assistance in any way that I can,” Tomie said. 

You nodded, fire in your eyes. There was nothing that would change your mind. You were going to find Johnny Silverhand, even if it were the last thing you’d do.   

///[Memory shard complete]///ERROR..MEMORY SHARD MALFUNCTION//[dATA LOST]///

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[theyoutubedork]

I’m not a wizard: part 4

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Tag list: @strangemaximoff

When Bruce snapped his fingers, everyone who was dusted felt the same feeling. Confusion. People reappearing out of thin air, scaring those who remained. You feel yourself reappear on Titan, as with all the other guardians. You feel your legs give out again, but you slowly harness your energy so you can stand back up. You look around. Everything was the same. You see Peter and Dr. Strange as well. Where once stood was now covered in {bill wurtz voice} “space dust”, and you look to Dr. Strange. He gathers you all together.

“We have been gone for fives years since Thanos made us fade into dust. We have to go help Tony and those who were left,” he explains. You go over to Peter, who seemed very confused.

“Peter, you ok?” You ask, placing a hand on his shoulder. He nods.

“Yeah I’m ok.” He stutters, looking at you. Dr. Strange then told you that he has to find the other avengers who were dusted, and bring them to the fight. He looked at you.

“I’ll open a sling ring when I get back, stay here,” He says, jumping through a sling ring to a grassland, with people wandering around. He closes it. You look at the other guardians. You started to formulate what happened in your mind.

“Where’s Nebula?” asks Mantis.

“And Mr. Stark?” Peter adds. You shake your head.

“My guess is that they didn’t get turned into dust, I just hope their ok.” You explain, searching for your quarter staff. Peter walks up to you,

“What are you looking for?”

“My quarter staff, it must be buried under here somewhere.” You say worried, using your hands to scoop through the dust.

“Can’t you summon it to you like Thor?” Says Peter. You snap your fingers.

“You’re right! Thanks for reminding me,” You say. You take a step back, out stretching your hand, you try your best to summon your weapon, you see the end of it slither from under some debris, as it slowly wafts towards you. You see that the weapon has aged slightly. You frown.

“Looks like I’ll need to make another one,” You say, testing to see if the flail still works. It does.

You see golden sparks fly in the distance, two of them opening up. Dr. Strange floats out of one, closing it. He becones you over.

He opens a sling ring to a debris ridden field. You all rush towards it. Peter swing into action, rising from his spider like stance to look at the field. You jump on your rings, landing with a “thump” right next to Peter. You see Thanos, with Golden glad armor, and a humongous army behind him. You see Captain America. He smiles towards Peter. You poke him in his side.

“You know him?” You whisper, too curious to hold in the question. Peter laughs.

“I stole his shield, I’ll tell you about it later,” he says excitedly. You step forward to see plenty more portals opened, with more allies stepping out of it. You recognize King T’Challa of Wakanda. He releases a war cry. His army of Wakandans march out behind him.

You see Wong, along with other Masters of the Mystic Arts emerge, creating their rings around their fists. You do the same, walking towards the front of the line with Peter, holding your staff at the ready.

“Is that everyone?” Says strange.

“You wanted more?” Asks Wong.

You see a giant crash through a pile of rubble setting down what appeared to be Bruce and others. You prepare yourself next to Peter, shaking your wrists in order to calm your nerves. Peter crouches next to you, looking up at you with a determined and also giddy expression, which you return. Captain America begins to yell.

“Avengers!” He shouts summoning Mjolnir which doesn’t surprise you, “Assemble!”

You hear a collective cry from everyone, as you all rush forward. Peter swings ahead of you, as you create step pads out of rings, using your staff to vault you to them. You rush after Peter, too afraid to separate from him. You see him rush towards Tony. You hang back, fighting off a few aliens before being ready to shield them from attack. You see Peter pick up Tony, who looks shocked and relieved to see him. He looked older, with gray hairs.

“Holy Cow! You will not believe what’s been going on. You remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? And I must’ve passed out because I woke up and you were gone, Dr. Strange was there right? And was like, ‘It’s been five years, come on they need us!’ and started doing those yellow sparkly thing he does all the time, what, what are you doing?” Peter blabbers until Tony wrappedd him in a hug.

“Huh this is nice,” Peter says. You feel your chest tighten, yet you refuse to let tears fall. You see the pure emotion in Tony’s face. What has he been through?

Tony flies away, fighting more aliens. Peter stand there. You run up to him,

“Come on, we gotta fight now,” you say, running forwards, launching your self in the air, extending your staff into a fiery flail. You whip ferociously at the oncoming enemies, some of them losing limbs when you strike them hard enough. Suddenly you hear an exchange about the stones. What? You then hear a “la cucaracha” jingle alarm ring throughout the area. You hear Cap speak into the com.

“Anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” He asks.

“Yes, but you’re not gonna like where it’s parked” a female voice answers.

“Scott, how long to get that thing working?”

“Maybe ten minutes.”

“Get it started, we’ll get the stones to you,”

You and Peter jump back into action, keeping an eye out for the stones. You see them glowing as Black Panther struggles.

“Peter! Go grab the stones!” You yell, you latch onto his side.

He flies through the air, and he grabs the glove. He quickly drops you and you land harshly on the ground. You see him clutch onto the glove.

“Activate instant kill!” He yells. Suddenly his spider tendril start stabbing left and right, so you stay back, unleashing the Bolts of Balthakk, sending a horde of enemies surround Peter backwards. More surround him, so you quickly shield yourself as you crouch next to him, afraid of the instant kill. You create a shield of seraphim, making it cascade outwards, protecting the two of you as the aliens are pushed back. You keep it at a wide radius, but you see the aliens clawing at it. You then see lasers shooting, so like your fellow “magicians” you exert more power into your shield, protecting You both from the ballistics. However the shield quickly breaks and the aliens swarm you both you try your best to hold them back.

“We got this, we got this. Ok we don’t got this. HELP SOMEBODY HELP!” Peter cries.

“Hey Queens,” says Cap, “heads up.” You see the hammer fly towards you. Peter gives you the glove, wrapping his arm protectively at your waist as he latches onto the hammer. A laser breaks his web, and you both start to fall.

“Hang on, I got you kid,” you hear pepper say, grabbing Peter, throwing him up to the Pegasus lady, as she quickly flies down to grab you. You see Peter with the glove, riding with the lady. You shield pepper as she flies around, still holding onto you. You see Peter get launched from the horse, struggling to hold onto the glove.

More flames rain down, and you slip from Peppers grasp as she’s almost hit, and you start to fall. It takes all your strength to fight against gravity, and you soften your fall enough that you don’t break anything. You groan, looking up to see a flying figure ripping through the space ships. You stand and watch the figure destroy the ship. You start to walk to Peter when you see the space woman land next to him. He hands her the glove. You walk over as you hear him say.

“I don’t know how your going to get through all that.”

You see other women surround you, igniting your spirit with a feminist power.

“Don’t worry”

“She’s got help.”

The group of women run forward going to clear a path. You wish to join them, but something forces you to stay with Peter. You hold him close to you.

“You ok? You took a hard fall,” you say, but suddenly you see Tony and Those exchanging words. Before you know it, you see him snap his fingers, but nothing happens. You look over to see Tony with the stones. You gasp. Peter clutches onto you, not being able to look away. He snaps his fingers, seeing all of Thanos’s army turn to dust. You watch it unfold. You smile satisfaction. You won. You see Tony stumble to the ground, and Peter immediately springs forward. You rush after him, letting Tony’s loved ones go to him.

“Mr. Stark? Hey! Mr. Stark, can you hear me?” He says, voice trembling, “it’s Peter. Hey. We won. Mr. Stark. We won mr. stark. We won you did it sir, you did it.” He sobs, being held back by pepper. “I’m sorry Tony.” You see him step back. You immediately wrap your arms around him, and he crawls into your embrace. You make Peter turn away as you watch Pepper kiss Tony on his cheek as the light on his chest goes out. You feel your tears slip down your cheeks. You hear everyone sobbing softly, and you see everyone start to kneel on the ground. You force Peter to kneel down with you, who leans into you, still sobbing. He kneels down completely, and you hold him in your chest, letting him empty his sorrow onto you. You stroke his hair soothingly.

“It’s ok Peter, it’s all over. You’re ok Pete,” You whimper.

[demonstuck-rp-blog]

Angels and Their Sub-types

 Angels are the creators of the universe as we know it. With their strange and mystifying powers; they create planets, life, and many assortments of things to inhabit all that they have. As of now, there are only two sub-types of angels in existence. The first are the Seraphim -  close to the common concept of angels - and the Cherubs, who differ in ability and appearance. Above them all stand The Archangels. They are the most ancient and powerful of the angels, though all started out as either a humble Seraphim or a gentle Cherub.

No matter the type, certain traits are shared between them all. The first is that all angels are cold to the touch, having evolved to deal with the brutally low temperatures of space and Prospit (know to humans as Heaven), in which they reside. Due to this natural immunity to the cold they can survive in subarctic conditions, though they struggle slightly in warmer areas of the Earth. Another common trait of an angel is their halos. The halos of the Seraphim and Cherubs rest above their heads, while the Archangels halos hang more behind their bodies, due to the fact that their halos are incredibly large. To top all of this off; all angel blood is starkly a white, and is known to glow.

The wingspan of an angel will vary depending on what type they are. A Seraphim will have medium sized wings that are large enough to carry them, as well as to allow them to easily glide along the air. They are situated on their upper back near their shoulder blades. Cherubs tend to have smaller wings which are situated on the lower or middle of their back. These wings allow them to fly and hover, though they find it harder to glide. Archangel wings are the largest of all of the angels. Archangels may also have multiple sets of wings rather than just the singular set of two that the other angels have.

Cherubs   

The Cherubs (singular: Cherubim) are emotion based creatures of Prospit, similar to The Concubus. They give the virtue they possess to humankind, and each Cherubim is separated into one of seven sub-categories: Diligence, Humility, Chastity, Forgiveness, Temperance, Charity, and Kindness. The more a Cherubim is exposed to their virtue, the more powerful they become. Once discovering a human in need of the trait they possess, the Cherubim will bless said human with this virtue. However, doing this can cause major personality shifts in a human. Cherubs are very social, and enjoy the company of other Cherubim as well as humans. However, they prefer to bond and mate with their own kind. They find most humans to be too boring to ever appease them. Though they do grow possessive of the humans they bless, treating them almost like a pet they are fond of. They are tricksters by nature, and love to play good-natured pranks on others.

Cherubs, like all angels, have two forms: human and angelic. No matter the form they always have an unearthly beauty to them that dips slightly into the uncanny valley. Their angelic forms consist of tiny wings that can either come in a set of one or two on their lower or mid back, and a tiny halo. Their skin usually matches up with human skin tones. If their skin is lighter, then their limbs color will fade to a pure white the farther it gets from the body. The same is true for darker skin tones, but with gold instead of white. Their eyes resemble a humans, but with stranger colors. Cherub eyes range from a shocking white, to a wondrous gold, to a jet black. A Cherubim may also have taloned, bird-like feet, though this is uncommon. Their human form resemble the features a Cherubim has while in their true form, minus the angelic attributes and other unnatural features. Note that a Cherubim, while disguised, will always feel cool to the touch. Their skin will always be soft, like silk, and when they jump? They seem to stay up there for just a little too long!

Cherubs are the sympathetic beings of the holy types. Along with flight and being able to withstand low temperatures: they have empathic abilities that allow them to read the emotions of others and understand those they read better. With a careful touch or gentle words, a Cherubim can give their holy energy to heal minor wounds and bruises that a creature may have. However, if they give too much of their energy to others, they will exhaust themselves to the point of passing out, or even need to be taken back to Prospit to recharge. A Cherubim can only heal others when in their true form.

Cherubs share the same weaknesses that all angels do. They are susceptible to hell fire and damned artifacts. When placed around them, Cherubs can be contained within circles of pepper or fire. Demons (and other angels) can hurt Cherubs, and weapons made from the bones of a demon or angel can cause life-threatening harm. When presented with things that are considered unholy (upside down cross, pentagram, ect.) for too long, their human form will be forcibly removed from them for a period of time ranging from an hour to three days.

Seraphim

The Seraphim (singular: Seraph) are about as close as you can get to the common concept of angels; Virtuous (and often prideful) beings which make up the vast bulk of the angelic populace and exist in order to serve a higher purpose - or at least, they believe themselves to. Due to their sheer numbers, their range of mystical abilities vary as much between individuals as their roles do. In their true forms, the Seraphim can be described as “eerie”. Modern earthly depictions capture the set of feathery wings emerging from their backs, as well as the glowing symbol (typically a circle or crescent) fixed above their heads. Their eyes are pupil-less, while their skin has a smooth, almost silky quality to it and will feel quite cold to the touch while also being any color under the rainbow. It can be human tones, but if not, they will usually stay in a pastel range. Uncommonly (albeit not unheard of) are Seraphim who take on an additional animalistic aspect to their visage - manifesting in the form of features such as multiple sets of spider-y eyes, a lion’s mane, or an expanded, bird-like plumage.

The powers of The Seraphim depend on their aspect. The aspects are attributes that define an angels or demons powers. Every creature is created with an aspect, however, that does not mean that every creature draws from it. Humans do not have the capacity to do so, while Cherubs and Concubus draw from virtues and sins respectively. Seraphim can mold their powers to manifest in many strange, unexplainable ways. Some can see the future, while others can manifest beams of energy to attack their foes. The infinite possibilities that are held within these strange creatures can be wondrous… but deadly as well.

Though powerful, Seraphim do suffer a number of distinct weaknesses. Like all angels, they are susceptible to hell fire and damned artifacts. Pepper can be used to trap them when placed around a Seraph. Normal fire can also contain them. Demons (and other angels) can hurt Seraphim, and weapons made from the bones of a demon or angel can cause life-threatening harm. When presented with things that are considered unholy (upside down cross, pentagram, ect.) for too long, their human form will be forcibly removed from them for a period of time ranging from an hour to three days.

Archangels

The Archangels (singular: Archangel) are beings of legend. They are pious creatures that stand holy above all, overlooking all of Prospit in judgment as the long-lived originals of their domain. Their power is overwhelming among the average human population, their presence bringing with it a sense of helplessness, despite the easing of their words. Often times a mist-like vapor eases from them, rolling over the ground in the immediate are to consume all in its wake.

Still, more collected Archangels can hold back their mystifying power to a degree. Their calming voices counteract their own immense presence. This makes it possible to communicate more easily with the common folk, though typically well-trained hunters have a much less difficult time in the presence of Archangels. This is especially true if they often hunt either Angels or Demons, as It allows them to be physically and mentally prepared for the surging difference between these beings and mortals.

Their power ranges over all angelic prospects: virtues and aspects alike. Whilst it’s true that the other angels and their connection to these abilities make them strong, an Archangel can take these further. They dig into the very cores of their power and drag out abilities thought impossible. Archangels possess a greater understanding of their aspects and virtues, and can draw out greater potential within those who seem closest to them.

Say an Archangel’s aspect is Time, and a human they come across possesses the same aspect within them then the Archangel may bless them and draw out more of this trait. Though humans are of course limited by their mortality, you are far more likely to be struck by lightning five times in two seconds than get blessed by those who see themselves far above your race.

Though they stand tall among their peers, when one flies too close to the sun… well, with great power comes great weakness. The lesser angels have a closeness to earth still that Archangels simply do not possess, and with this being the case they are far more susceptible to unholy weapons. Being undiluted creatures, any demonic weaponry or influence can have stronger effects on an Archangel than they might on a Cherub. Visually an Archangel will leave one stunned and at a loss for words. Their sizes vary from an average human to a 20’ tall being, a multitude of feathery wings gracing their backs while a large halo illuminates the area from behind them. They can bear similar traits to their other angelic counterparts: eyes without pupils, nearly flawless and perhaps golden-toned skin, silken hair, and even bird-like feet with large talons. Their faces can bear multiple sets of eyes as well, or even none at all. They are the pillars of Prospit, and they stand out even within the golden city itself.

[plainjanedaria]

F_____ Prediction

Here is a rough outline of the upcoming TribeTwelve episode that I’ve constructed over the past two months or so based off of various hints Adam’s given (and my own fanservice biases).

Noah is walking along the boardwalk when he spots a fortune peeking out between some leaves on a tree next to him. In essence, it urges Noah to steel himself and press on no matter what might distract him, and to not be deceived. After following his future self’s instructions for a while and assuring himself that he’s on the right path, he stops for a bit in an area he assumes his safe to replace his batteries.

Hard cut after Noah has replaced the batteries in his camera. Mongo has taken the opportunity of momentary complete darkness to ambush Noah, and Noah is only just able to get his camera running again before he has to run away from the spider giving chase behind him. The journal is urging him to run faster and saying something along the lines of “he’s just behind you!”

Eventually, Noah comes across a disembodied doorway in the middle of the boardwalk. Ignoring how obvious of a trap this is, and against the advice of the journal, Noah, in his panic, goes through the door... to find that he’s back at his house. All is normal. The nightmare has ended far easier than he expected. Maybe it was all a horrible nightmare after all?

At this point the first hint that something has gone wrong is made obvious to the viewers (but not Noah): the journal has gone completely silent. Noah flicks off the night vision and walks around his house in a daze. Checking all the rooms in a state of frenzied paranoia, he sees nothing out of the ordinary.

Various short clips of Noah replenishing his health and going about his day - eating, drinking, and showering. Noah is finally able to collect himself for once, and it seems that in the month of his stay that he isn’t going to starve or die of sheer exhaustion/exposure at all. But what’s this? It’s nighttime? I wonder what will happen!

In the frame of the camera but out of Noah’s sight we begin to see strange things. Disembodied eyes peeking out of the walls, and dark figures speeding just past Noah’s shoulder. Strange noises, the house settling. Noah begins to suspect that something is wrong, and falls into despair when he finds a fortune urging him to check the news.

Bracing himself, Noah turns on the television. A seemingly normal news report begins with the phrase “A very unfortunate and disturbing story...”

It details the death of local Florida man Noah Maxwell.

Noah has an advanced panic attack at what he’s seeing on the screen. This can’t be right. He’s not dead, he’s right here. What’s going on?

“And now, to commercials.” Noah almost falls over at what comes next - an extremely loud, distorted miasma of red/yellow/black visuals, hands slamming against the screen, faded text peeking through, strange wormlike entities filling the frame, a sea of eyeballs. Horrified, Noah turns off the television and runs to his room.

Turning on the computer, he makes an attempt to contact the outside world. First, he opens Twitter, but all the tweets have turned into gibberish and the webpage’s colors and UI have distorted heavily. Trying Youtube, he gets a similar treatment, the visuals looking quite similar to the commercials he saw on TV.

Attempting to navigate his house he begins going in circles and being teleported to rooms that make no sense and are filled with various horrors - rooms and hallways that go on for too long or are alien in form. Eventually Noah feels a polite tap on his shoulder, and whipping the camera around we see...

Firebrand. Finally, after the succession of the two future Noah’s approaching him, we see the inevitable fate awaiting Noah in his truest form. The camera distorts heavily, with the same red/yellow/black effect we saw in November 11th. His eyes are glowing yellow, and he has a thin, red smile. On his black outfit and skin hundreds of eyes have manifested. A truly awful form indeed.

Despite everything telling Noah to run, he’s frozen in place. Seeing his future self two times didn’t prepare him for this. Approaching the camera slowly, the two find themselves in a completely different room in the house.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got something of a save state you can always revert to. Before that, though, do you want to see the consequences of what happens when you don’t fucking listen? This is a potential reality - one where you failed. A timeline I negated.”

Opening a door, Firebrand presents Noah with his own corpse. Smiling his thin smile, Firebrand regards Noah’s horrified panic before shutting the door.

“You see the work I have to do? We make a mess far more often than we succeed. But in maintaining the loop, I can force you on the right path.”

At some point after this confrontation Firebrand disappears, leaving Noah to attempt to escape the false house on his own. The Observer begins chasing and taunting him, screaming at him to deliver the journal to him, and Mongo appears once more to chase him. Opening doors, Noah finds himself being warped around a house that increasingly makes no sense, and he seemingly has no choice but to spiral further into the labyrinth. Suddenly, he’s grabbed from behind by Firebrand. The camera turns to face him one last time as Noah is shoved back onto the boardwalk. Firebrand distorts heavily as he says “Try again, dipshit!”

The journal is talking again, and it says, “I told you not to go in there.” Noah walks along the boardwalk for a bit, sitting near the tower and crying for a bit, simmering in the disappointment of not having gone home at all. He’s more convinced than ever that he’s never getting out. No amount of savoring the rest stop he’d found himself in would have been enough to confront the pain of the metaphorical wound opening once more. Sheepishly, Noah finds another fortune, similar to the end of Rendezvous, and the video ends.

BONUS CONTENT: Song Predictions

The Host of Seraphim - Dead Can Dance

Once In A Lifetime - Talking Heads

Left Bank Two - Vision On Gallery Theme - The Noveltones

Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door - Bob Dylan (credit to coupe in the TTD for this)

All Along The Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix (also coupe)

+ any other song that Adam’s posted about on social media the past few months

[girl-in-the-library]

Had a dream last night which was mishmashed in all sorts of things.

First it was kind of a self-insert Good Omens thing? Where I was Aziraphale’s daughter? Not a seraphim, but like, what happened was one of Aziraphale’s tasks was to impart divine ecstasy on this woman, but this woman had just happened to sleep with her husband earlier in the night, so the divine ecstasy mixed with her egg and his sperm and a baby that was part angel was born.

So like I had these little wings that appeared at some point so I went searching for the only angel in SoHo and found Aziraphale, with Crowley, in the bookshop., And as soon as I proved that I was partially angel, Crowley just about died laughing.

But then I was in this weird study camp group that met in the bookshop? And I was actually me, not this weird angel OC person. But I was friends with Aziraphale and Crowley. And I hung out after the camp ended and Crowley went to get food and Aziraphale had a collection of board games (probably due to Adam) and one of them was Krosmaster Arena. I asked Aziraphale if he knew how to play and could teach me, because I collected the minis, but never knew how to play. He said he did, and started teaching me, and we spent the whole game conversing in French, because Krosmaster Arena is a game that takes place in the Krosmos, a universe based on a French MMO.

And THEN I was Kagome Higurashi, who came to SoHo in search of InuYasha and her demon friends from the past after 3 years of the well being closed. She had heard a rumor about a demon in London, but it wasn’t the type of demon she was looking for, as we know. Then, when youkai attacked and she defended everything, Aziraphale and Crowley decided to help her find her friends. Also turns out that KAGOME is part angel (not via Aziraphale though) and that’s why her holy miko powers are so much stronger than anybody else’s.

Then I was Kagome in Amity Park from Danny Phantom? And she was basically doing the same thing, except she went to college with Jazz, because she heard of all the ghost activity and thought it could lead her to her demon friends. She goes home for break with Jazz and is easily able to determine Danny is half-ghost, but of course doesn’t tell anyone because she doesn’t know who knows the secret. The stupid high school boys start lusting after her because she’s beautiful, and we all know Dash has a crush on Jazz anyway. So when Jazz and Kagome plan a camping trip with Danny, Sam,Tucker, and Valerie (this universe is sort of a non-Phantom Planet one but everyone works together or something? Idk) - Dash, Kwan, Star and Paulina invite themselves along.

Jazz drives the Fenton RV, which somehow comfortably fits all of them, and they go on this trip.

But while they’re roasting marshmallows, they’re attacked by Skulker and a group of wolf youkai, who had teamed up to cause trouble. Danny has nowhere to go to go ghost, because it would be suspicious if he ran off into the woods when it was safer in the camper with the ghost shield.

Kagome takes charge and basically corrals everyone into the RV, slams a sutra on the dashboard to protect from the wolves, and then activates the ghost shield before stepping out. Now Danny can’t leave the RV at all. (Skulker can’t get in either). Jazz and Danny are freaking out as their new friend goes to confront a ghost and youkai by herself (they don’t know these wolves/wolf-people are youkai, but they know they’re dangerous).

Skulker laughs and tries to attack her, but she throws a sutra at him which immediately disables his suit, causing it to fall apart. Jazz throws her the Fenton Thermos and tells her how to use it, and she captures Skulker easily. Everyone is in silent awe.

Kagome turns to face the leader of the wolves and the conversation goes something like this:

Kagome: What would your father say if he knew you were tormenting humans like this?

Wolf leader: *scoff* what do you know about my father?

Kagome: I know that you look just like him, but you have your mother’s green eyes.

Wolf leader: *suspicious* how do you know...who are you?

Kagome: How are Kouga and Ayame, by the way?

Wolf leader: *fearful* Who the fuck are you???

And then the dream sorta faded into a repeat of all of what happened except with slightly different details and then I woke up.