#turn the pain into power [about azrael]

[greatwrath]

which tragic death would you suffer

the betrayal

you die at the hands of the person you love most. maybe there are tears in their eyes as they drive the sword into your chest, maybe there is none. there are certainly tears in yours. your mouth will open to ask 'why' only to spit blood instead. you will die never knowing if they loved you at all, wondering if you could've done something to prevent this, or if it was always going to end this way.

tagged by: no one, i found it

tagging: @demcnsinmymind @bitchheroine @orphanedshadow @tempportal @magaprima & everyone

[hunterwritesstuff]

Adam x fem overlord reader, who’s shorter then him, (before fall Adam) and he’s just super possessive and protective so much so that he set up a task team to kill her rivals so she doesn’t have to worry! Hcs and oneshot plz!!!

Gonna do just oneshot, hope that's okay! Hope ya enjoy! :D

"Angelic Assaults."

"What's the damn problem, Michael?!" Adam snapped.

The taller Archangel sighed, shaking his head as he turned over the other's request in his head. "Adam, you know how many hoops we had to jump through for you last time."

Adam growled, a frown growing on his face. "If we do too much, He'll notice something is up." Michael warned.

"I THINK MY GIRLFRIEND IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN-" Adam started, getting cut off.

"Adam, whatever happened to Eve?" Uriel asked. "You were supposed to be with her. Eloping with another woman-a sinner, Hells, and OVERLORD of all things-will draw eyes." He added.

"I don't give two shits!!! I want HER and I want her SAFE and I want it NOW!!" Adam yelled.

"You are acting like a child, Adam. You know we cannot bring much death without questions arising. And I must preserve my own angels for when they are called upon for serious matters, not silly matters of the heart." Azrael signed.

"Maybe you SHOULD start caring, Adam. Do you want your rank and title taken away? Do you want to FALL, Adam?" Michael asked.

"YOU get to dole out your angels for errands all the fucking time!!! Why is it any different when I ask?!?" Adam demanded.

"It is different because they are MY ANGELS, Adam. I can ask them to do as I please. They never slaughter, they never maim. They never do as you are requesting of them to do." Michael scowled, narrowing his eyes.

Adam groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "You're being a pain in the ass, Mike!!" Adam snarled.

"You cannot change our minds on this, Adam. You may be the first man, but you have no power over us." Uriel informed.

Adam paused a moment. Yes. Yes he did. He did have power over them. He had control over them. He had knowledge that nobody else in Heaven outside of the Archangels did.

"...then I suppose you wouldn't mind people learning about Raph?" Adam asked coyly, the others' eyes widening, stepping back.

"Shut up. The walls here are thin." Michael warned.

"Adam, you cannot use such a situation lightly." Uriel scowled.

"What? I'm sure Heaven would LOOOOOOOOOVE to hear that you-" Adam paused, taking a deep breath. "SENT RAPHAEL TO TH-" He started, raising his voice to be fairly loud.

"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN." Michael hissed.

"How many men do you need?!" Uriel asked desperately.

Adam smirked. This would be easy.

[mistyresolve]

| Sunder - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Edited)

Word Count - 2.2k 

Summary - Y/n is caught of guard when they discover a stray soldier had stuck around after his mission. Curiosity piqued, they decide to stay and talk with Ghost to figure out why he never went home.

Warnings/Tags - Fluff, Angst, Explicit language and description, Mentions of death (including a child and his family), Ghost is morally grey in this one

A/N - sometimes writing about Ghost makes me sad :( also i don’t know if this is fluff or angst my apologies 

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You hadn’t expected anyone to be lingering in the 141 barracks with most of them having left for home after their recent assignment. You expected all of them to return home actually. But Simon Riley was slouched on the couch in the common area. 

He was still in his gear, save his bulletproof vest and gun. The zipper to his black tactical shirt was undone, the chain to his dog tags peeking out from beneath the fabric. His mask was lying on the couch beside him, and he had yet to wipe off the black paint, faded from wear and time. It still lined his eyes and smeared down his cheeks. Not a single light was on but you could still make out enough to recognize it as him with the help of the moonlight leaking in through the windows.

“Oh,” you jumped, the stack of mail in your hand flying up to cover your eyes. The mail you collected for both Price and Gaz as they requested, and you came here intending to just leave it on the table in the commons room for when they return. You were a close friend of Gaz’s and spent every Friday night at their barracks playing pool or cards with him and whatever other member wished to join in that night. You’ve met Ghost a couple of times and played a game of cards with him a handful of times. He won poker every single time, his ability to bluff and lie always floored you. He’s taken hundreds of dollars from you. 

Not a single one of those interactions has he ever removed his mask. 

You waved the envelopes in front of your face, your eyes squeezed shut for added reassurance, “I’m just dropping off some mail for Gaz and Price,” you told him. If only to make sure he didn’t think you were trying to sneak in thinking everyone was gone and snoop. This time when you dropped the mail from your face, your eyes were on the floor. 

He huffed a laugh, the sound deep and reverberating. There wasn’t a hint of humour in it, “You can look up. I’m not going to bite,” he lilted. He sounded exhausted like he was latching onto consciousness with a death grip, forcing it to remain with him. 

You hesitated, turning the thought over in your head. He knew that you knew if you so much as thought about revealing his identity he would hunt you down and string you up to use as an example. 

You dragged your gaze up the length of his body. He was pure muscle and long limbs. He wasn’t built with cosmetics in mind but with the need for unbridled strength and power. His broad shoulders and chest were on display as he rested his arms on the back of the couch. He devoured the space. He looked like he was made too big for this world. 

You lingered on his face for longer than you’d like to admit. He’s always caught your attention but you had your reservations as to why you never actively pursue him. He didn’t seem like the kind of man you’d take home to meet your parents for Christmas. He didn’t seem like a man capable of something like love. He always left you with the impression that he was a ticking time bomb. His humanity held together by sheer will and spite. 

But looking at him now, nil the mask, he looked so mundane. He wasn’t at all like his many nicknames and reputations. He wasn’t Azrael, an angel of death. He wasn’t the Grim Reaper. The scars on his skin were evidence enough that he was capable of pain, injury, and eventually death. 

He wasn’t Death because it was Death that stalked him; It followed him into his sleep and it hovered over his shoulders as both his ally and foe. 

Without the mask, he was just like everyone else. He was also handsome. The type of handsome someone has to grow into. Hard lines and dark features. The oily black paint and dark room made it harder to distinguish every one of his features but you didn’t need to see them. Now, a small part of you wished you had tried your shot with him. 

“I thought everyone went home?” you placed the mail on the table, sorting through them by person so you had somewhere other than him to look at. 

“They did,” he quipped. His patience was evidently thinned, not by you, but by something else. 

The inquisitive side of you perked up, ears turning in on him. You eyed him from your spot at the table and your attention snagged on the glass in his hand, the amber liquid inside tilted to one side, “Everyone including you,” you specified. 

He leaned his head all the way back on the cushions, his face pointed to the ceiling, “No. Not me. I usually don’t.”

“Hmm,” you moved the kitchen and opened the fridge to find the sparkling water you left at the bottom. The can cracked and fizzed and the faint smell of strawberries and pomegranates wafted up, “No one you want to see back home?” it wasn’t that uncommon for someone to not want to return home, some people joined just to get away from it. Maybe he was one of those people.

“Nope,” he popped the p, his head rising back up to look at you. He wasn’t much of a talker to begin with but this was different.      

“No movies at the theatre you were looking forward to?” Since there wasn’t any source of entertainment at the base most of the soldiers raved about the movie theatres once they got back from leave. Although, the thought of the man sitting in front of you going to a theatre and eating popcorn was laughable. 

“I’m more of a show kind of guy,” he followed you with his eyes as you made your way to the couch opposite him. 

“How was the mission?” you went for the elephant in the room. Gaz had stopped by your office on his way to the air stripe, he sat with you for an hour to discuss the mission. You knew the result of the mission, but you had a feeling that even Gaz was leaving bits and pieces out. Leading you the conclusion that something had gone awry.  

“A success.”

Okay. Not really what you were looking for.

“I would expect nothing less from you and the 141, and you don’t usually come back to base until you’ve done your job. That’s why I didn’t ask if it was a success,” you tilted your head at him, “And if it was a success why are you not celebrating? Instead, you’re sitting in an empty barracks, in the dark, drunk. So, tell me, How was the mission?” 

“I’m not drunk. I’m drinking,” he pulled at the syllables with his tongue, emphasizing each one. 

Temper.  

“Hang me on a technicality,” you deadpanned, he needed a little pushing, you just had to be careful not to poke any bruises when doing so.   

“I don’t need a psychologist to be psychoanalyzing me and writing ‘unfit for work’ all over my file,” His teeth flashed white in the dark as he snarled. He was never this volatile, not that you’ve ever witnessed anyway. He was like an injured animal back into a corner.

“I was a counsellor, not a psychologist. I didn’t make diagnoses, I just listen and give advice where it’s wanted,” you reply, referring to your old civilian job before joining the force and working with the soldiers here. You had shifted career paths to health promotion and providing resources to anyone who came and asked for them. You were passionate about it, and wanted to help every last one of these soldiers. The only issue was that not many of them wanted the help, and Ghost fell into that category, “Whatever is going on in that head of yours, I can assure you I’ve heard it before. If not worse. Besides, I’m off the clock. Nothing you say will be repeated or recorded. Nothing anyone ever says is.”   

“Have you cornered anyone else from the 141?” he looked at you from beneath his brows, suspicion creeping in on him. 

You shrugged. The truth was that every member of the 141 has visited your office at one point or the other. All except him. He was on your radar but you were going to wait until he came to you. For now, you were extending a hand towards him. Whether he took it now, later or not at all was entirely up to him and you’d back down the moment he expressed that he had no desire to open up.   

You waited, folding your legs underneath in a show of, I can wait for you all night.  

He was completely still, his gaze glazing over in thought, in remembrance. There was a long moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that was making room for something else, something heavier, “They killed a little girl. She couldn’t have been older than eight,” he finished the last of his drink, “Didn’t want her to talk, so they shot her in the head and left her body for us to find. I stepped right over her and I still couldn’t even look at her face. Seems like the world’s greatest sin, right? Killing a child like that,” his gaze dropped to his feet, “But I’ve been thinking…I would have done the same if it meant protecting a mission. Seems like a pretty good trade to me, a single life to protect the rest,” He poured himself another half glass of whiskey in preparation to nullify whatever feelings were bubbling up, “I’m really, uhh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m really no different from the men and woman I’ve killed. We go out there and believe we’re doing the world a favour, but who’s to say we aren’t the villain in their story?”      

“You have to make some of the hardest decisions a single human has to make, and no, it’s not fair. Sometimes there is no right answer, no better option. You sacrifice every part of yourself for the sake of peace. So of course you’re going to lose in the end. Even if the mission was a success, you still lose. There are no winners in war, Ghost,” You pulled one of the decorative pillows to your chest. It was a harsh truth, but it was one that you wholeheartedly believed, and he didn’t need pretty or sugar-coated words. 

Devastation rang as you noticed his expression. He had been expecting you to hate him for his confession. Be disgusted with him. This man thinks he’s fighting this war by himself, that’s he’d completely alone in this world. To think he’s been dealing with these thoughts and feelings by himself. Ruminating over them till there is nothing left but self-loathing and abhorrence. 

“You’re not the monster you think you are. Maybe a little fucked up, yes, but who isn’t in this line of work?” 

He was quiet, his mouth a thin line as he contemplated your words. You could see he was listening, hearing you, but he didn’t necessarily believe you. That was okay though, you weren’t expecting him to. He’s tormenting himself for so long that cracking through that kind of damage would take time. Either way, you formed a metaphoric bridge to him, and gave him an alternative. 

His shoulders loosened after a long while, “I’m not going to become a regular,” he stated, meaning this kind of conversation was not something he planned on making a norm for himself and he wasn’t going to be showing up at my office anytime soon or very often.  

“That’s a real shame, I quite like your company,” you tossed the pillow to the side, stretching out your legs before standing up to leave. 

You were just picking up your can of sparkling water when he said, “Stay.”

It wasn’t a question or a demand, but rather a submission. He didn’t want to be alone right now. Knew that he needed someone else's voice to drone out his thoughts. 

You slowly slid back into the couch, understanding what he was needing at this moment. Inside your head, you jumped into the air and clicked your heels together, “And do what?” 

He sighed and his eyes fluttered shut, “Just talk. About anything. Not this, but anything else.”  

You pondered for a second, “You know, I’ve always wanted to see what you looked like under that mask. It’s been one of life's greatest mysteries.”

His eyes popped back open, a smile tugging at his lips, the hint of a dimple appearing, “Not a word to anyone else, you hear me?” 

“A word about what?” you feigned ignorance.

His smile grew the slightest bit, “Exactly.”

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A/N - I used Ghosts Azrael skin religiously on MW 2019 

Tag List - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎  @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds​ ❤︎ @purplefishingline​ ❤︎ @v1naco  

[under-loch-n-key]

In Ethical Omens MD... is Cuddy god?

Omg I never thought about that! I was thinking of having her take Michael's role. Michael's always grumbles about what each of them are doing on Earth and tries to keep them in line because she is worried about what the higher power will think. She always feel responsible and has a bit of a power complex. Like how worried (and power hungry) she was in season 2. I thought that fit Cuddy a lot.

Although, much like the Good Omens universe God is a woman in this AU! There will be a funny mini-comic talking about God.

What do you think? What role from GO should the main House MD characters take or should I give them new ones?

Is there any scenes/scenario's you lot would like to see them all in?

Please feel free to let me know your ideas!! I would love to expand on this AU.

I will say rn, the next doodle I will be posting is House's fall. So, stay tuned for that! 💛💛

Here's a bit of an info dump about the AU if you want to read it!

House is the angel Raphael. Angel of healing, medicine, and stuff like that. Raphael is also known to have a staff. That could fit for House's cane. Although, I want him to injure his leg after the fall. After he turned into a demon and his leg was damaged (that'll be revealed in his fall comic), every time he connects with humanity and is around holy ground, his leg will ache because it's his former being showing through. His vessel and "soul" if you will, remembers what he used to be. So, he takes sulfur pills to restore his demonic self. He won't feel that pain and pull.

I'm thinking of having House and Wilson meet at his fall. Or they met before in passing but their relationship really began after his fall.

I am thinking of making Wilson the angel Azrael. The angel of death and comfort. Wilson's whole job is to try and bring comfort, help, tell others that their end is near but that he'll be there through that (and after). So, he takes a job at a hospital for cancer patients. He can stay as close to humanity as he wishes while still doing his job.

Connecting with Humanity (and House) almost costs him in the end. I will be rewriting the cancer arc of the end of the show to suit this universe.

There's some info on House & Wilson. Cuddy (and the others) is still being mapped out.

Again, please feel free to leave your ideas!!! I would love to hear them all!! 💛💛💛

[timelostobserver]

The Reapers' Fall

[ A drabble containing the events of Azrael/Hades' Fall. Something I've wanted to write for a while now~ ]

Glimmering, golden blood was splattered upon the pristine white marble ground. A struggle had taken place here.

The normally quiet 'Halls of Mourning' where the dead were brought before the Angel of Death was now filled with terrifying tension. Four blackened, raven like wings, cast aside upon the ground, blood oozing from their base while their owner was held above the ground, blood dripping from their back and their remaining two wings.

Azrael, the archangel who presided over the dead was a mess. His robes stained in golden blood, the corners of his mouth leaking the self-same fluid, though that was not his own. And a clenched, tightened hand firmly holding his scarf and him aloft.

Rage boiled in the archangels eyes, what had been simmering below the surface for so long had finally broken free. What had started as an overstepping of the Seraphim, had led into the constant overruling of the Judge's jurisdiction.

All until he finally only saw red, and snapped.

Sera stood near by, nursing a terrifying gash in her hand, Adam standing to the side after having watched the entire fiasco throw down.. While Azrael was being held aloft by the one who he held far too much ire for.

Lute.

She was smiling.

All the while, he held his beloved grimoire and scales in his arms. A literal death grip upon the two treasures he'd been created alongside of. They were his, he refused to hand them over.

How had it all come to this? For the youngest of the Archangels to erupt into a fit of Wrath at not just the Seraphim, but the First Man and the angel closest to him. It was a long brewing tension, one wrought of lost purpose, bullying, and neglect.

'Anything left to say?' Lute was enjoying this all too well. Sera refused to even look at Azrael as tears continued to drip from the corners of his eyes. His glasses broken, scattered across the ground. Shards lost among the neigh scattered carpet of black raven feathers.

The office itself was in complete shambles. The desk overturned, bookshelves knocked over...

And Sera just looked on, in disappointment.

"Lucifer was right, he was right to turn Heaven upside down that day!" Azrael barely managed to choke out.

"You're nothing but liars, power-hungry liars who don't give a shit about humanity! You only want what's best for yourselves, not creation itself!" He grimaced as the grip on his scarf was tightened.

'A little late to be so defiant. Want me to rip out the last set of wings?' Lute looked smug, she was enjoying seeing the archangel squirm. But his only response to her-

"Fuck you." A spit to her face, spitting out the blood in his mouth. Blood that came from Sera's open gash. That, certainly got her angry...

A crash as a window was shattered, Azrael's torn body was thrown out the stained glass window that filtered in Heaven's light to his office. But the light that followed him was not of gentle sunlight, but of flames as the archangels body erupted at the call of the Seraphim. Flames that would burn away the feathers that remained, that would char his skin and hair as he plummeted through the clouds and into the wastes below.

Even as he burned, not once did Azrael's grip relinquish from his precious treasures. And his only cry was one in apology to his eldest brother. To Michael, that he couldn't keep his promise of waiting for him to come home.

A quiet cry of forgiveness as Heaven soon fell out of sight, and Azrael collided with the unforgiving, hard ground of Hell.

. . . . . . .

The site of the crash was terrifying. The force of the impact uprooting the stone, dirt and ice that coated the outer edge of the Pride Ring of Hell. Flames produced from the impact crackled as the dust itself settled around the small, broken figure at the center of it all.

Azrael felt nothing but searing pain, both all over his body and in his heart. He refused to be pushed around by Sera any longer, refused to alow her to constantly dictate how the process of judgment was to be done for each human soul.

Refused to be a puppet...

As he lay there, he thought of that moment where he began to truly question the Seraphim and the Council themselves. To question his purpose.. Poor Abel. The poor boy murdered at the hands of his own brother. To bear the blunt of the first murder, to witness and take on the fear of that young man as he asked so many questions...

To see how the council handled his decision. The scales had weighed him in favor of Heaven, he was an innocent human. But they didn't think so. They tried to rule that certainly he must have done SOMETHING to cause Cain to act in such a way.

Azrael fought tooth and nail to ensure he could reside in Heaven. And when the time had come for Cain's judgement? Azrael had ruled his judgement to be Hell, and once more they tried to overrule his judgement. The same.. damn.. excuse.

As he lay upon the cold ground, tears dripping from his face to the ground as his gold blood stained the stones of Hell. The first time he'd ever raised his voice at the Council...

How taken aback they had all been.

That had been the beginning of the end. Each time he pushed back, Sera grew more cross with him. Lute grew more aggressive. Their efforts to bully him into a corner, into a puppet they could control failed to bear fruit. Until he finally just... Snapped.

He'd lunged at Sera as she tried to touch his beloved scales. He tore into her hand like a feral animal trying to protect what it saw as precious. And it all spiraled from there...

As he lamented on what happened, he could not hear the quiet footsteps that would soon approach him. A tall, avian creature in regal robes. Red eyes looking down to the now fallen Archangel.

Paimon moved forward, and carefully took the broken angel into his arms.

'How far Heaven has truly fallen, if Death itself has now joined our ranks.'

[orginllazyblog]

So far the aus I create for my yuu's are:

Zoriana/Yuu:

Great grandchild of Chernabog

They/Them/She

The Morning Star princess

Had no idea they come from a royal background until their forehead grow in more pain, resulting in their horns growing back

Book 2 of Decendant of Chernabog in progress

Book 1 is already complete (on wattpad)

Their home country, Empire of Fantasia, was once part of Twisted Wonderland world continant but had to leave because of the demons were planning to overthrow the empire and other kingdoms

It was their decision to be the empire's princess, learning that their mother wanted a daughter to raise

Their older brother, Prince Azrael, takes more of Chernabog's inspiration

In the next book, Zoriana's grandfather, the current emperor, announced a grand party for their return, so they selected a few of their classmates as their country is not "normal" and consider "dangerous" as there are powerful races living there. Either for fun or their little revenge for all the mess they have to clean up for them. It's going to be a fun ride for the nrc students.

Esmeralda (Former Mc from the Obey Me fandom)

Was once known as "Mc" in the Obey Me World but got assassinated

Was one of few witches that were strong during the Dark Ages

If it weren't for her death, they would end up in a relationship with Solomon instead of any of the seven brothers

Died at the age of 455

Reborn back to a young teenager, 15

Was born with magic, resulting in having emerald eyes

Hated demons for killing their families but only got along with Diavolo and Barbatos

Diavolo took Esme in his care as he felt responsible for what happened

Over time, Esme forgives Diavolo and sees him as a father figure

To make out for an apology, Esme asked for Diavolo to teach her about ancient history and magic as she showed signs of having magic

When Diavolo heard about Esme death, he then picked up their casket to where her original home was for proper resting

The reason why Esma(female) Esmé (GN) and Isme (male) can't go back to their original world was to start a brand new life... a life where they can find true love (?)

Esmé (gender neutral yuu):

The more canon Yuu

One out of three didn't have to go too much trauma

Gets to have their old friend back and go thr the canon events together

No love interest... yet or not

Having no magic means no emerald eye color, but pure white eye color

With Mizuki by their side, the dorm got more upgrade and more lively

Rollo, Fellow, and Gidel join the dorm. Rollo because there is no way he got away with it, so his headmage send him to NRC as his punishment. Poor Rollo taught he'll be alright, and then there's Mizuki, the avatar of Envy. With Fellow & Gidel, in my headcanon, they appear again for the next NRC Halloween event bc Esmé need the wood puppets as guards. Big brain right there! They ask and ask if the two wanted to study here and finally said yes, well, Gidel nodded yes.

Esma (female Yuu):

Goes through some canon events

Their magic coming back with their white eyes slowly turning green

Closely resemble Esmeralda in the Hunchback of Notre Dame

Would also take another Disney character reference later

Also means their love interest is the twst version of Phoebus

Will meet the Great Sevens

Regains their memories from their previous life

Percival Aelius:

Twst version of Phoebus

Was once noble bell college student but transferred to rsa. Tho he wanted to transfer to nrc, but the register was full.

Meet Esma at the ceremony from the distance only to the official meeting when both of them were selected to be representatives for the Grand Event

In the end, Percival loves Esma even in her overblot form

Isme (male Yuu):

Raise and meet the Great Sevens when they were an toddler

Unlike the other G7 Yuu's, Isme lived in a decent environment, but there were harsh moments he had to face on which leave big scars

Didn't know how they came to be as they don't recall some of their childhood memories

Promise the great sevens to return their physical forms as they were educated and trained by them

Transport to Twisted Wonderland, learning that their guardians were historic figures, maybe there was a chance to find a way to bring them back

Two sides, one is their "villain" persona as they act sly, silly, and professional. Given the fact they have to play as a magicless human so it work out well with their amazing acting. The second one is their normal self but can't show his true colors in order to hide the fact they are the vessel of the great sevens

Isme can be smart, but when it comes to more romance, they are clueless

Lucian Mackinley: RSA version of Yuu

Love interest of Isme

I had a difficult idea of what Disney character. Until, I recently thought of him being a twst version of the wishing star as Lucian is born like a star, literally

Raise by the Noble Sevens (Disney heroes)

Have a direbeast cat, Felicia

Had trouble making friends as it tends to be unapproachable or ignores their voices

And my favorite and upcoming: The House of Mouse angst scenario:

Set around in the late 2020 as Twisted Wonderland came out on March 2020. A "Yuu" worker, Esma, suddenly disappeared, and no one knows what happened to her. Two years later, a different "Yuu" came to the House of Mouse to work until they found what seemed to be an old photo of the employees with the previous "Yuu". Later on, the Halloween episode came, but the villains weren't the only ones to make an entrance.

[sols-garden]

Mafia AU

Authors note: Im gonna post something not related to Folantius, and will probably do so for the next few posts! TW for Violence, Cursing, Gun and Knife Violence, Fire, Mentions of Kidnapping, and Death. This is based off a roleplay I am doing so i hope you enjoy and there should be a pt 2 by Thursday!

Azrael Sandalia, his dads Ivar and Dai, his sister Erika, and his adopted brother Eros Loniya/Sandalia, Killian Murphy, and Verossica Arno had arrived at the scene to save Axel and Zane from certain death. Zane Crawford, a Soldier in the Sandalia Family Mafia, was the lover of Azrael, the Underboss of the Sandalia Mafia. He was someone significant to him and someone the Sangria Sisters, Veronica, and Selena, did not like. 

Axel Sandalia, meanwhile, was the son of Ivar Sandalia, the head of the Sandalia Family Mafia, and Dai Shore, a Capo of the Sandalia Family Mafia and the second most powerful Archangel. On the other hand, Axel was someone the rivals wanted to make into an influential member, significantly since Veronica believed she should’ve had a child with our lovely Archangel Dai. They took the child as revenge for the kidnapping of Eros, who got abandoned at a warehouse, according to the Sandalia Family. 

Anyways, the Loniya Family and the Sangria Sisters had kidnapped the two of them, so the Sandalia Family went after the people they cared for. The inner circle had wanted revenge for the kidnapping of their kin and would kill anyone to get them back. 

As they approach the hall where Zane and Axel are rumored to be, guards stand at the door down that hall. Inside that door would be Axel and Zane. The group heard bickering between the two, not with each other but with someone else. They were still determining with whom, though.

From there, Killian and Verossica would turn into their wolf forms. Verossica would take the form of an endangered Red Wolf, while Killian would take the form of a snow-colored white wolf. They then both sprint down the hall and quickly take out the two guards down the hall, biting their necks and all. They would lay dead on the floor as Killian signals for the rest to break down the door. They would all rush down the hall and burst into the door. There, they would find someone questioning the two. It looked to be Justin, the boss of the Loniya Family.

He would then attempt to call for backup, but Zach would kick the radio out of his hand and kicked it right into Erika’s hands. She then melts it with her fire breath and smirks, “Now that was some good work.”

Axel then somehow stands up in the chair and kicks Justin directly in the groin, causing him to fall in pain. Azrael would then get behind the leader and slam his head into the ground. The pain would knock Justin out. The Family then unties Axel and Zane from their restraints, and Dai makes a portal home. Axel was very iffy about going home. They had told him they could give him more power, so Axel didn’t want to leave. As he tries to fight his family, Dai says, “With us as your family, you have all the power in the world. Without us, you might be weaker than before. Dragons are stronger together, not apart.” Axel then sighs and says, “You’re right, Mom. I apologize. I will go home so I don’t bother you all.” Axel goes through and goes home, while Zane tells them, “ I will stay and fight.” Dai tries to explain to Axel that he misunderstood his statement, but he is too late to get to him as he has already gone through the portal.

They then exit the building and come upon a celebration between the Sangria Sisters and the Loniya Family’s inner circle. They had set up a party outside to celebrate their accomplishments against the Sandalia Family. Then, out of the shadows, the Sandalia Family would appear. They would then get ready to fight this large crowd of people. One by one, they would take every member out. Then, out of nowhere, the Sangria Sisters would take on their griffon forms and take everyone out. Injuring whatever they could. 

As everyone fell to the ground, Azrael would shoot at the griffons. He was seemingly getting more and more mad at the pair of sisters. If he was angry before, he was even more pissed now. He keeps shooting at them as he attempts to take them out. As soon as they took out Axel, he snapped.

“The hatred in his eyes took me by surprise,” Those words came to Selena’s mind when she saw Azrael standing there, guns in hand. His dads had been hurt, along with everyone he had cared about. He is shattered internally, broken inside. The stress these people had put him in pushed the man over the edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. His fear for his ex-fiance Selena and his ex-future sister-in-law Veronica had vanished in that instance. He felt power over himself. He knew he had to do something, and at that moment, he would do it.

He would proceed to pull his guns out at the women as they morphed into their griffin forms. They would dodge and weave from the bullets as he yells at them, “Stop fucking moving!!”  As his guns would barely do any damage to the griffin-morphed women, Veronica and Selena, he would get even more pissed. 

So then he decided to do the unthinkable. Something that no one would ever think of him to do. Dai and Ivar look up, super injured, to witness- blue fire in Azrael’s hand?? Sarah would feel a shiver run down her spine as she saw the fire in his hand as he took on a new form. Now, she feared him as scales ran along his jawline, forehead, and neck. Blue and black, to be exact. He had slightly curled horns on his head. A tail swinging from side to side. 

“You know why they call me The Flame, right? I take on a blue flame, unlike the rest of my family. Meaning I am the strongest of my family. I can take a life in an instant with this fire. You fucked up. You took my brother, you took my dad, you took my lover, and now. Well, I’m going to take what means most to you. Your wings. Your life. Your family.” He chuckles, his eyes slit as it takes on a dragon-like look. He stares right at them, his eyes piercing their soul with his anger. 

He was ready to take them out at any cost. He was prepared to go guns blazing now that he didn’t give a fuck in the world if he hurt them with his fire. His fire grew brighter as he spoke, “You fucked with my family. Now I’m going to fuck with yours and the rest of your little posse. I’ll make sure they all go up in flames!” 

Meanwhile, Dai attempts to heal Ivar with his magic, but it is slow, unlike when he’s healing himself. He would wrap his arms and wings around Ivar to heal him, but this would anger Veronica, so she would lunge at him, as she was not listening to Azrael’s “lame speech,” as she put it in her words later. 

Azrael would shoot a flame at Veronica as soon as she attempted to lunge at Dai and Ivar. This flame would shoot Veronica across the yard, and part of her wing would be burnt off, only the bone showing. Azrael had liquefied Veronica’s skin and flesh off the bone because of how much force he used with his fire. He was trying to kill them.

Then, Selena would grab Zane and go back to her human form, putting a knife up to his neck. When this happened would be when Azrael would get super pissed. 

“Put the knife down unless you want your sister dead,” He snarls.

“Hurt my sister, and he’ll get it, big mouth,” Selena says, snapping at him.

Veronica ran back and tackled Azrael to the ground. She would then lunge for his neck, but Azrael would throw her off of him before she could and propel her away. 

“If she keeps doing this, I will hurt her, but if you hurt him, you���re dead,” He puffs smoke in fury, the smoke covering the whole field. He then quickly grabs Zane from Selena as Dai protects Ivar. Then Azrael would entrust a severely injured Killian to protect the harshly injured Zane. Killian would nod and clasp onto Zane. 

“Be careful,” Zane would tell Azrael. His lover would nod and bolt at Veronica, entering his full-fledged dragon form. He would light his fire at her other wing as he grabbed Selena with his tail. His wings would flap as he carries them both into the air. He would then move them to the top of a building so they could not reach his injured family.

At this point, Dai had finished healing Ivar and went to heal the others. It was going much faster since their injuries weren’t as severe as those of Ivar and Zane, but they were still intense enough to stop them from fighting. He would eventually finish healing them all as Azrael fought on the rooftop.

Azrael would carry the two and then slam them into the roof. He then lets out a giant roar and shoots his fire at Veronica. She would get in her griffon form and would dodge and weave. Meanwhile, Selena would hit the other with magic on his ankle. The magic they were using would be more like a mere tickle to the dragon. He would fly up and continue shooting fire at them, melting off Veronica’s other wing. 

Veronica would shoot magic at the man as well as he flies around them in circles. Eventually, one spell knocked him out of the sky, which caused Ivar to turn into a dragon and fly in. The dragon-shifter family would individually follow their dad one by one as Zane, Verossica, Eros, and Killian rode on Erika’s back. 

Eros would chuckle, “You guys ready for this fun family activity? I love fights!” 

“Hm, I really wouldn’t say it’s fun, but ok,” Killian replies. 

When everyone landed on the roof, they would shift into their animal forms and attack. They all targeted Selena besides Ivar, while he targeted Veronica with Azrael. 

Azrael yells, “Get back to safety; what the hell are you doing here?” 

Ivar replies, “You may be strong, but I have more experience! Let us help you, son.” 

Azrael sighs, knowing he won’t be able to make them go away. He then snarls, “Fine.”

They then charge at the enormous griffon, Veronica, as she shoots magic at them. It still seemed to be ineffective as she shot out the effective spell. They would counter it with their fire, shooting it simultaneously. It would be like that incredible magic in those fantastic battle scenes. 

The fire would push against the spell, a mix of dragon and light magic, explaining why it hurt Azrael. It was just an extraordinary sight to see. The magic and fire almost seemed to intertwine at this point, but slowly, the fire would push forward. But the magic would blow back and hit them both, making them fly around. They then keep fighting her, clawing, scratching, and using fire. They tried everything they could to defeat her.

Meanwhile, Sarah tries to escape and attack Azrael and Ivar. Zane then takes his gun and shoots at her, the bullets piercing her skin but not going in. The shooting would cause her to bleed a little bit, but not too much. She lunged at Zane, but Killian would thrust back at her, gripping her skin with his jaws, which caused her to try to shake him off. Verossica would also then do the same thing, biting into her skin with her teeth and making her bleed. Then, of course, Eros had to follow. He was like a giant wolf. They would both eventually let go as the dragon sibling would breathe fire at her. The fire wouldn’t do much damage, but it did cause some things to happen. Like wounds in her lower abdomen and her upper back. Teeth marks from the action.

Erika injures one of Selena’s wings, leaving her unable to fly. Selena attempts to get to her sister, screaming, “Help me, Veronica!!” Verossica, Eros, and Killian block any path left open, though. They wanted to ensure that Veronica couldn’t reach Selena's way. Selena was trapped, with nowhere to run. Selena then finds an open spot between the dragon's legs and bolts between them.

As she runs towards Ivar, Veronica, and Azrael, Ivar grabs her with his claw and throws her back over. Selena would repeatedly try over and over to get over but still failed as Ivar threw her every time she attempted to come over. At this point, Veronica’s wings got burnt off. Her burnt wings would mean in her human form, she would not have any arms.

Veronica yells at the two more giant dragons hovering over her, “Don’t kill my sister! Just kill me! Please!” 

Selena yells back, “NO!” She became distraught and desperately tried to escape. She didn’t want her sister to die. She didn’t want to die either, but her sister even more.

Surprisingly, these abusive monsters had hearts for each other. In the past, they had kidnapped Dai while he was pregnant and abused him. With Killian, she had thrown him in the basement as punishment and slapped him around. Meanwhile, Selena had abused her ex-fiance Azrael as a way of her having power over him since he refused to use his fire against anyone up until now.

But now, this was their end.

With one final blow, Azrael would burn her in flames as he replied, “I’ll do what I please, you heartless monster!” Ivar would just watch as her body went up in flames as she screamed, “Please just spare her! Please!” She would then get burnt to ash pretty quickly, every part of her body just gone. 

Azrael would walk over to Selena and turn into his half-shifted form. He growls at her and says, “Why should we spare you? You’ve done nothing but hurt people. I may kill people for a living, but I do it with morals. You’ve killed children and many people. You’ve abused children and people. You’ve used them. I don’t have one reason to spare you. You are absolute dirt. So why, why should I spare you?”

She replies, “I’ll change my ways!! I’ll join you guys.” 

“And if your sister comes back? I heard there are rare occurrences of griffon’s reviving again and-“ As Azrael said that, behind him would spawn a Veronica out of the pure ash. 

They were wrong about her being at her end. Her wings would materialize along with the rest of her body. Of course, in this world, dragons could do the same at least three times in their lives, but griffons? Only once. 

Veronica would start to attack Ivar with the effective spell she had been shooting earlier, mixed with dragon and light magic. But out of nowhere, Dai summons a sword that flies out from a portal and calls his wings. He flies up on Ivar’s head and helps him with the magic by shooting his light magic at the spell that had been shooting at Ivar.

Selena would rush over to help her sister and use the same spell. Slowly, the magic spell would move toward the semi-iconic sister duo, but then their attack would move toward the dragon and his companion.  Then Azrael shifts back into his dragon form and shoots his flame at the spell Veronica and Selena had been using. 

The spell quickly moved towards Veronica and Selena as the five fought with fire and magic. As soon as it reached them, they would get blown back. The two sisters fly off the roof, but Veronica catches her sister in time before she is off the top entirely. They then fly back up and get back into a fighting position. 

As the fight continued, Zane continued shooting his gun at the griffons. Azrael would keep shooting his fire. Eventually, he finally hits them as Ivar holds them in place. The two sisters seemed to try to escape as Ivar held them down. They would bite at his foot and try to wiggle out. But before they could run, they would be burnt to a crisp. They became ash and goop with how melted they were.

Ivar would shake off his foot and return to his human form, his foot covered in blood. 

“Now that’s disgusting,” Azrael commented. He did not like seeing the goop and blood from the dead sisters. Eros then says, “Time to clean up!” Eros would go over and lick up the blood as his tail wags. It's just something wild wolves do with blood. He loved the taste of it for some reason. 

Dai summons stuff to clean up and starts to help. Then, the rest would follow in helping. That was until he arrived. Justin was still alive as he arrived on the roof.

Now, they had to deal with the boss of the Loniya Family. 

The Loniya Boss, Justin, would turn into his massive wolf form and charge at Ivar.

Ivar immediately dodges the attempt and turns into a miniature dragon the size of a giant wolf. “I guess it’s time to pick on someone my size, huh?” Ivar remarks. He then runs at the wolf and rips into him. Justin would whimper and whine as Ivar attacked him. 

Justin, though, would escape from Ivar and attack, ripping into Ivar’s skin. Ivar would roan in pain as he continued to bite. Ivar would shake him off, though. It seems their strength was on par with each other. They would then continue to fight back and forth until he eventually shoots a dragon spell at Ivar. The attack would knock one of the Sandalia Family’s freedom fighters, whom we call Ivar, and cause him to fumble back. The group would form a frontier and attack the wolf. 

The seven overpowered them, especially the one running in with a gun and shooting wildly at the wolf. The shooting on top of the fighting would eventually kill the wolf, and they would finish their fight. 

They then move on to clean up and clear out the dead bodies into a hidden spot.

They then finished the cleanup, and Dai said, “Let’s go home now. I’m tired and wanna see if our son is alright.” 

The group all shifts into their human forms, besides Zane, since he is human, and Eros groans, “I wanna kill more stuff! I’m going to go hunt for rabbits when we get home.” 

Ivar nods, “Let’s go home.” 

Dai then opens a portal to their house, and they all enter. The fight was over, and they had finished their job. Save Axel and Zane while killing off their enemies. 

Or so they thought.

Veronica and Selena reform themselves back to where they were just at. Veronica would chuckle, “Imagine being descendants of a weak family. Soon, they will know the power of the griffon hybrids. We will take over the world with the Fed’s help, and they will all bow to us. But for now, we must recover. Let us go home.” The two would then walk home. Along the way, they would drag the dead body of the Loniya Family’s Boss. They were going to revive him soon. Curse him with immortality just like them. That was the plan, at least.

But who knows what will happen now? Will they take over the world? Will they fail miserably? Only the future will tell.

THE END..?

[chuuyanaurkahara]

MURDERKITTY STUFF NO ONE ASKED FOR BUT I DON’T CARE💯💯🔥🔥

uhm yeah lol this is all nsfw or suggestive stuff, sorry😔 it can go a bit extreme or graphic, so beware. don't read stuff you're uncomfortable with, stay safe, mwuah😘

not proofread cus it's almost midnight and my fingers are just mashing random buttons at this point while i'm hoping to sound at least half coherent

------

Azrael likes to call Dani an icy heaven during sex.

Another pet name for them is kitty or kitten or pet.

Dani cries easily, especially during sex. It's not because they're uncomfortable, their body is just very sensitive and easily overstimulated.

Up to a certain amount of pain it still can be quite comfortable for them though.

Azrael tries his best to be as gentle as possible, despite his urges to wreck Dani's whole body.

When Dani's in a very good mood (or it's Azrael's birthday) they allow their boyfriend to destroy them. They tell him that no matter how much they might cry and beg for him to stop, he should keep going if he so pleases. they have a safeword for if they really really can't take it.

Azrael loves to turn Dani into a crying and blushing mess, bruises, scratches and bitemarks all over their body, messed up hair, cloudy and unfocused eyes, cheeks wet from tears, drool dripping onto the mattress, panting, their cum mixed with Azrael's on their chest and belly, maybe even some on their face, maybe mixed with drool dripping onto the matress, trembling legs, and cum seeping out of their asshole. Maybe they're tied up.

Azrael cannot stop fantasising about Dani just because of their height. He loves how tiny they are compared to him and tells them so many times, especially, as you probably guessed, during sex. He loves how tight they feel around him. He loves how much power he has over them just because of their height difference.

No matter what kind of freaky stuff Dani wants to try, Azrael is definitely loving every second of it.

also, i am not above putting in a snippet of the canon things Azrael thinks. 1st draft because i don't even have one chapter finished.

Do they realise what they're doing to me every time they touch me? How every little movement makes me hunger more? Thirst more? Lust more?

Do they know how much they drive me to insanity? How much I want to ruin their tiny body, making them tremble and cry beneath me? How much I want to abuse their cute little mouth until it hurts to speak, their throat hoarse and aching?

Do they know how much I have to refrain from ripping off their clothes and fucking them dry right now? How much I want them to scream my name and my name only, how much I want them to mindlessly moan for me alone.

Do they know how much I want them to sob and beg under me? How much I want them to beg and cum because of me?

Do they know how much I want to consume all of them? Their spit, their flesh, their blood, their cum, their piss--- simply everything. How much I want to feel their delicate flesh between my teeth, their wonderful blood on my tongue.

and this was literally after Dani only hugged him.

[crispyblonde]

Mick didn't say anything that wasn't true. You need to stop being selfish.

always down for jess to be punched in the gut but anons

❝ you really don't think i know how much i've fucked up with my decisions since i came back!?  ❞ paralyzing fear had filled all of her moments before azrael had found her while investigating the souls that had suddenly been ripped from heaven to earth. when the archangel had taken a liking to her, jessica had allowed herself to relax and feel somewhat safe for a little while. whatever or whoever might have nefarious plans for her would have to get through the literal angel of death. even with this comfort, as the days turned into weeks, jessica's fears of what seeing sam again would mean only seemed to grow. she wasn't the girl he loved at stanford anymore... she hadn't been even in all of the years she had spent in heaven. honestly, jessica had been confused that she still had been taken to heaven in the first place when the faith in god she had held so tightly for most of her life had been shattered with her death. demons ran rampant and they were seemingly unchecked by the powers of heaven and angels, considering that sam's father had supposedly hunted the very one that ordered jessica's death for sam's whole life. at least, that's what the demon inside of brady told her. the demons wouldn't even let have sam have the free choice of what he wanted his life to be. how could a god that wanted the best for his flawed creations let any of this happen on top of the natural devastation of illness and disaster?

but her faith was far from the only thing that had changed about her. especially now that so much time had passed since she had been brought back to life. no, sometimes she could barely recognize the woman that stared back at her in the mirror. while jessica didn't think there was any way that sam could have changed that would make her not love him, the self-doubt and fear brought on by the unknown wouldn't allow her mind to extend the same courtesy of sam's love to her. beacuse what if it didn't even matter how much she had changed? jess had only seen sam once in his apparent dozens of visits upstairs. it was only a couple of years after her death and he'd only stayed for a couple of days. after that jessica didn't want to give him any reasons to stay in heaven, although his quick trips out were rarely of his own decisions, because the angels needed him for things and wouldn't allow him to stay. that was what ash thought anyway; the man that kept up on the politics in heaven surrounding the winchesters to help out his friends, but also out of boredom. not to mention, she couldn't go through being reunited only to have him ripped away again. once had been painful enough and after that she had almost always stayed away from the robotic heaven version of sam that played out her memories with him. robot sam was too painful of a reminder that she had lost out on a lifetime of memories with him or memories of anything at all. memories never felt as comforting after having the real thing again, even for a few short moments.

what if it didn't matter how much she had changed because he had found someone else? someone that understood getting raised into knowledge about the supernatural? or someone that could understand the devastation brought to him by it? someone that was far better suited to be by his side through it all because while she had shaped herself into a good hunter that could take care of herself, there was undoubtedly others better than her. at this point anyone he had met after her death he would likely have known for longer than he had known her. and what was worse? being turned away for someone else or someone else experiencing the loss of someone like sam simply because his college girlfriend was back in the picture?

so no, mick hadn't said anything that was untrue last night and it wasn't the first time he had said any of it, but he had never said it in such an irate or judgmental way. it hadn't been said since the casual sex with cameron had warped into something more. neither of the men deserved the tangled web of emotions her horrendous decisions had led to and now there was no move she could make without hurting one or both of them. it made her feel sick with self-loathing. self-hatred, self-consciousness, and fear? these emotions ruled most days now and she had very little experience with any of them before her death. so yeah, she was selfish and she should tell sam, but she had dug herself too deep into rut that there was no way out of it. ❝ sam deserves better than me and maybe he already has it.  ❞

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Twilight if Bella was Death in the same way as Lily/Harry/Azrael? I feel like Bella has unique interpretation of the world that is somewhat like Lily's and a sense of denial not unlike your Harry's. Thanks I love your metas!

Anon is referring to Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus, October, and probably When Harry Met Tom. Also, hello meta people, before I vomited opinions onto the internet I used to write seriously weird fanfiction. I still do.

To recap for those that don't read my fanfiction: in these stories Harry (or Ellie in the case of "Lily") is "Death", a mysterious figure with even more mysterious and seemingly unlimited power over the universe. A god, essentially.

Anon points out that Bella has some marked similarities between "Lily's" Lily, in her strange perspective on the world and all the players in it, and Harry from "When Harry Met Tom" who is convinced she's absolutely normal and everything is fine and you can light evildoers on fire with your bare hands and "the power of friendship".

Anon's... not wrong.

So, with that, what if Bella was a god?

Bella the Goddess: The Pretty Much Canon Route

Well... potentially, nothing changes. Lily in her fic notices her abilities because she rises from the dead and, from an early age, meets those who point it out to her. Sure, reality also seems to be falling apart, but that has nothing to do with her and everything to do with reality.

Bella, in a lot of ways, is a lot more oblivious than a five-year-old Ellie Potter.

Bella meets aliens in the cafeteria that no one else seems to notice and learns they're vampires who aren't actually vampires. Bella has prophetic slayer dreams every now and then. Bella hallucinates Edward Cullen who occasionally feeds her information she might not actually have known before hand. Bella's brain is silent. Bella used her gift to protect an army from the most powerful gifts in the world in only a month.

Bella could potentially be far more powerful than she is (this is probably the case, actually, Bella's gift is terrifying) and she... just... never notices.

But that's boring. We already have canon, clearly this ask was meant to get us, well, not canon.

Bella and the Art of Being Sisyphus

Bella has some fatal accident when she's a child. She drank drain cleaner from Renee's non-childproof cupboard. However, because Bella's an immortal god, she comes back from the dead.

Bella thus grows up being very confused. Bella knows she's definitely died several times throughout her childhood thanks to just a) childhood accidents b) various misadventures fueled by a lack of sense of any caution but everyone keeps talking about this dying stuff.

Bella realizes fairly quickly that most people, most organic life... doesn't come back like she does.

By the time Bella's in early elementary school she probably realizes she's an alien.

She may look like a combination of Charlie and Renee (and this disturbs her greatly as that can't be right) but something is funky town in Bella's gene pool. Renee assures Bella that she did not take part in any government experiments while pregnant.

And after too many Saturday morning cartoons involving alien invaders, dissections, etc., Bella becomes terrified of doctors and DNA tests. She is convinced her life will turn into ET at any moment now and she's going to have to escape from people dressed in space suits on a flying bike.

(And yes, she checked, she can make the bike fly.)

Bella probably tries to phone home a number of times and... it probably works. Because this is Twilight, a beautiful, strange, universe with all sorts of things in it.

Bella spends a year in space, it goes poorly, and returns to Earth with none the wiser and very traumatized/learned from her experience.

I imagine her life is filled with very strange misadventures that Bella just thinks are normal. Or, at least, normal for her. That time Bella travelled in time, stepped on a butterfly, and then there were Frog People for half a day until Bella fixed it? Yeah, that was a thing.

That time some poor boy asked Bella on a date in middle school and joined her for an underwater quest where they tried to see if James Cameron's Abyss was real or not? Yeah, he hasn't spoken to her since. He's also terrified of fish now. And megaladons.

Beautiful marble people in the Forks cafeteria? Bella assumes that one's her fault. She doesn't know how, she doesn't know what she did, but she is 100% certain that the Cullens (and the fact that everyone thinks they're human) is her fault somehow.

She must have stepped on another butterfly when she wasn't looking.

Bella's very candid about all of this with Edward (which of course horrifies him because THE SECRET) but Bella has absolutely no sense of self preservation. Dying's obnoxious, and sometimes painful, but she's been there and done that.

Edward somehow still convinces himself that Bella's a beautiful maiden in need of his protection. This is even after Bella shows off her own totally awesome gift(s). "You see, Edward, I just made a dimension of shrimp. Not sure when anyone's ever going to need that. But wouldn't it be awesome?"

Edward thinks that's nice, hamburger thinks its special.

Bella can't believe she has friends. Even if they're blood drinking aliens. This. Is. Amazing.

She takes the Cullens to space and pointedly doesn't visit her alien friends. They don't talk about that adventure. It did not go well. By the way, did you know that Bella is worshipped in the Andromeda star system? Yeah, that's a thing. But we're not talking about it.

Carlisle starts becoming very concerned that Bella might, in fact, be a clueless second coming. Because there's gifted humans then there's, well, this.

Edward is still convinced he's a danger to Bella and that Bella is an ordinary human with an over active imaginaton.

Whenever Bella does come across the Volturi, Aro's very tempted, but also for once recognizes that this might be too spicy. Bella's this powerful now, what the hell will happen when she becomes a vampire? Caius' vote is an adamant no for the same reason. They decide to classify her as a supernatural creature/give her a pass on the law because. Well. The immortality thing.

And yeah, things like that.

This is one of those ideas that's really better written as a fic than it is as a rambling tumblr post. But know I just picture zany misadventures, Edward being Edward, and all of that good stuff.

[scarletarosa]

The Angelic Hierarchies 

The word “angel” (meaning “messenger”) is an umbrella term for a vast category of different species of spirits; but due to the rise of monotheism, these spirits were written as simplified entities in order to hide the truth of what they are. This information is an account of my experiences in the astral and of communing with these fascinating spirits in order to learn about them. This topic is extremely complex, so the following will be general knowledge. 

History of the Angels:

As stated above, “Angel” is an umbrella term for many different spirits. Therefore, Angel is not a species but a title for many different groups of spirits who work with one another. The “types of angels” (Archangel, Cherub, etc) are not different species, but different job titles. There are however beings in this group called “angels” who are their own species and act solely as messengers, but this will be discussed later on. 

The Source (called Atum in Egypt and Brahman in India) is the beginning of all things. They have always existed and they are formless. The Source is the supreme god who is pure consciousness and is all-powerful and all-wise, as well as the creator of the first gods, who became the first Angels. The counterpart to Atum (Source) is the Queen of Heaven (the Cosmic Womb) who was created from Atum and then she embodied pieces of herself into all of the goddesses (some more than others). When this Universe was created, Lucifer was the firstborn god who emerged as burning and radiant light. After many ages, more gods were created as well, and they were led by Lucifer. 

As time went on, more beings came into existence, with additional gods and semi-divine entities called angels (the humanoid messenger species) being created from the elder gods. The Angels who emerged from the farther reaches of the Universe look more alien in appearance; these are the ones who have multiple wings and eyes. With all this, Atum granted roles to these trusted beings and made them Angels (agents of the Source) with different categories which contained different roles based off their personal specialties. Plenty of Angels were granted more than one role (so some are both Archangel and Seraph, etc). Those Angels whose names end in “el” primarily serve the Source; those whose names end in “ah” primarily serve the Queen of Heaven.

When the day came that a powerful creator god named Jehovah arrived, he attempted to usurp the Earth and the Throne of the Universe, which sparked the rebellion of many Angels. After a painful and horrible battle, Jehovah succeeded and banished the rebels into the nightmarish realm of Hell after destroying their homeland, then he continued to Earth where he presented himself as the Source. Here he manipulated humans into destroying one another and betraying their own gods. Since the purpose of Existence is to learn and evolve through trials, the Source allowed this and observed the actions of both gods and humans alike as they struggled. This should not be mistaken as being uncaring, as the Source can see all things and possibilities; their mind is utterly incomprehensible and strategic. 

The First Sphere:

The following three categories of Angels are the closest to the Source and can best understand the Divine Will. They are made up of the following categories:

Seraphim: These are the highest of the Angels and their role is to manage the Watchers and act as wise mentors towards Illumination. The Seraphim (meaning the “flaming serpents”) are made up of both gods and dragons (mostly dragons) and they dwell in a realm of ever-lasting fire where they can be seen flying through enormous flames. Some of these gods don’t look human at all, while others (like Lucifer) appear humanoid. The most commonly known form the non-draconic Seraphim take is of an Angel with four wings that make a diamond shape, in the centre of these wings is a round ivory-coloured face. The leader of the Seraphim was Lucifer, before he Fell during the rebellion. Other notable members: Satan and Azazel (also a Watcher). 

Lucifer as an Angel had several different roles and is the most complex and beautiful of all the Universal gods, with his wife Lilith as his only equal (as she embodies the Queen of Heaven). He held the role of leader of the Seraphim, was also an Archangel, and he was a Destroying Angel as well. When he was banished to Hell by the Usurper, he became one of the three High Kings (the other two being Satan and Leviathan), with each owning their own kingdom. These entities did not turn evil (only became more dark in nature due to trauma), but were wrongly accused of many things by a tyrant god who sought to diminish them. 

Cherubim: These entities serve as guardians and soldiers. They are steadfast protectors of a great many things, including gates, doorways, the arts, sacred locations, etc. They are made up of the following different spirit species: lamassu, sphinxes, griffins, and angels. This is why many ancient cultures built statues of these beings at special locations. A notable member of this group is Gabriel (she is also an Archangel and is the co-leader of the Celestial army). A notable (ex) member is the demon Belial, who had joined Lucifer during the rebellion. 

Thrones: These Angels hold the role of passing on decrees from Atum (Source) and of teleporting the other Angels from one area of the Universe to the other. The Thrones are all deities who appear as giant rotating spheres of rings with many eyes. 

The Second Sphere:

These categories of Angels act as mediators for the 1st and 3rd Spheres.

Dominions: This group of entities hold the role of supervising virtues and assisting mortal beings in becoming more morally aware and wise. This group is made up of the following spirit species: gods, dragons, and angels (messenger deities and semi-divine beings). 

Virtues: This group teaches virtues (such as compassion and courage) to mortals in ways that they can understand. This group is made up of both gods and angels. 

Powers: These Angels solidify energy beams from Atum in order to perform specific magick, which they then give to the Principalities and Archangels, who then use it to assist mortals. The entities who are part of the Powers category are gods and angels. 

The Third Sphere:

These categories of Angels work the most closely with mortal beings, as their roles are to assist in guiding, teaching, defending, and even destroying. 

Principalities: These entities hold the role of organizing and guiding Platonic ideas (love, faithfulness, determination, etc) to mortals. Principalities also assist in the Universal Song, which creates everything. This group is made up of the following spirit species: gods, dragons, angels, and elves. 

Archangels: This group of Angels is entirely made up of gods (elder and lesser) who hold various different roles such as planetary guardians, military leaders, and mentors to mortals. Some notable members include Lucifer (ex member), Mikael, Anael, Gabriel, Raphael, Asariel, Azrael, Kamael, Sandalphon, Tzadkiel, Tzafkiel, Raziel, and Metatron. 

Angels: These are the lesser gods and semi-divine race of beings who operate as messengers and helpers to mortals. They comprise the majority of the Angels known to humans (with the exception of the notable Archangels). The angels appear as humanoid beings with white wings. 

Watchers: This is yet another umbrella term for a vast category of different roles for Angels upon the planets. Overall, Watchers (Zophim) hold the role of protecting mortals and acting as their wise mentors. A large amount of the Watchers fell in love with humans, with whom were born the Nephilim (demi-gods). The species of entities who make up the Watchers include gods, dragons, and angels. 

There are different categories for specific jobs of Watchers since some are guardians of mortals, some watch over life-process, and others teach different things to mortal beings. The leader of the Watchers was originally Azazel, who was punished by the Usurper (Jehovah) for falling in love with a human woman. As punishment, Azazel was splintered in half, with his other self becoming known as the demon Paimon. So while Azazel is more fiery and impulsive, Paimon is more calm and level-headed.  Other notable members: Tiamat and Leviathan (ex member) - both of these are draconic deities.

Jehovah’s Angels:

When Jehovah took the Throne of the Universe, he began creating a new type of “angel” that would serve only him and form his army. While the true angels have free-will and can be either kind or aggressive, Jehovah’s angels are robotic and cold; they feel nothing and do nothing but what he commands. These robotic angels had at times been mentioned in the Bible, even being described as looking metallic and showing no emotion, whereas other angels are much different. The tasks of these robotic angels are to either target humans who are trying to leave an Abrahamic religion, or to help Jehovah kill spirits who oppose him. 

Additional Information:

When an Angel loses their status, there are two things they can become known as: a fallen or a demon. Most people are confused due to religious texts implying that all fallen angels went to Hell, but this is not quite so. The severity of the reason behind the Fall determines the fate of the Angel, as well as if they defied the Usurper or not. The following describes the differences:

Fallen: An Angel who did not participate in the Rebellion against Jehovah but instead fell due to other reasons. These reasons can be many things such as turning corrupt, neglecting divine duties, betraying orders, etc. They do not have their forms change to become more dark and intense the way demons do. 

Demons: These are the Angels who participated in the Rebellion against the Usurper, Jehovah (although many demons are the children of other demons, and so were born into this race). They were punished by him by being thrown into Hell- a land where unspeakable horrors are that can drive most humans mad upon seeing them. The three gods Lucifer, Satan, and Leviathan took over different areas of this vast land and built their own kingdoms, planning the continuation of the long war against Jehovah. Due to their banishment to Hell, the demons became made of different energy than Angels and changed in appearance to have blackened wings and horns. 

Despite what religious texts say, Hell is meant only for the truly evil beings and it does not matter what religion they have (even a Christian will go to Hell if they are corrupt). So the demons are basically the sacred rebels who teach Illumination through adversity, for change and rebirth can only be gained through suffering. They are punishers of the wicked and stand for freedom, strength, and truth. 

[salems-hq]

in-game dates included in this drop: september 11th-12th system hack: evening of september 11th, 6:47pm.  town hall mob: immediately following the hack, reaching its peak at 7:26pm. warehouse: the morning of september 12th, 5:28am trigger warnings: violence, murder, dead bodies, gore, horror, and supporting themes, religious themes

setting: all across salem, affecting all powered televisions, mobile devices, PCs/laptops, and radios

it’s a normal saturday evening in salem. daily activities are winding down, transitioning into family dinners, game nights. businesses are booming as the sun begins to set, jaunting near the horizon for a final show before giving way to nighttime. main street is crawling with life. it seems as though the city has come to terms with its last jarring occurrence, and things are almost back to normal, even amidst looming threats- which have thus far failed to prove credible. birthday parties, retirement dinners, sport championships, engagement parties: there’s no lack of celebration on the street. this is what makes the interruption that much more memorable. 

the sound of static alters the music coming from various speakers that adorn main street’s lampposts before pushing it to a halt. few people pay it any mind, until a voice chimes into the air, through the speakers on the street, radios, phones, laptops, and other affected devices. “good evening, salem.” the voice brings with it the simultaneous shutdown of all powered screens in the city. one by one, people cry in surprise as the single image of a skull appears in the center of their screens, the spoken words written underneath it. the disguised voice continues. “don’t be alarmed. i’m merely here to indulge you all with some secrets our dear mayor has decided to keep from us.” the skull vanishes, and the captions continue as video footage comes onto the screen. a single figure can be seen in the footage, standing near the edge of the recognizable forest river park.

FREDERICK B. FREEMAN stands center frame. unknown to the public, MIKKO THROMBEY is behind the camera, having recorded this incident himself after receiving an anonymous tip about the mysterious civilian. he stands in the shadows, having followed frederick all the way from downtown. mikko’s breath hitches, which can be heard on the video footage, as he watches the man double over, almost as if in pain. limbs can be heard cracking, shifting, as the man slowly morphs into an animalistic, hideous creature. the camera zooms in on the gruesome transition, catching it in its entirety before the creature’s head suddenly snaps up. its gaze points straight into the camera, holding there for a few moments before turning into the forest at full speed. 

“this footage is from the computer files of none other than the dashing mayor JULIAN AUSTERE. how many things has our city kept from us? what other dangers do we not know about? what ELSE are they keeping from us? freddy here isn’t the only monster among us. where have all these missing persons victims come from? why are they here now? our city officials have known about these suspicious arrivals for weeks and have kept us in the dark.”

as the voice continues, various files are shared through the screens. official city hall documents, emails exchanged between officials and contracted employees, and images of the mentioned ‘returned missing persons’. “have these demons come here to infiltrate us? why are we still in the dark?”

a smiling image of MAYOR AUSTERE appears on the screens, followed by the edited effect of invisible claws slashing diagonally through the image. “wake up, salem. we deserve the truth.” the same skull appears on the screens before the message disappears, and all devices are released from the hack. 

                                    ___________________________________________

setting: town square

one would think images such as the video leaked to the public would shut everyone in their homes out of fear, but then again...salem has never been known to follow the meek mentality of fear. instead, hysteria rises. as if driven by a hive mind, the majority of the city has taken to marching down the streets, headed for the same location: city hall. 

julian austere had been in his office at the time of the hacking, wrapping up a day’s work. he had been on his way out the door when the radio in the upstairs accounting department suddenly switched channels, playing the hacker’s recording through the second floor. as expected, the mayor heads to the city hall’s tech department, where the employees are doing their best to counteract against the hack- to no avail. the hacker’s message comes to an end, and it isn’t long before the all too familiar sounds of a mob reaches the building’s steps. 

the mayor exits the building to meet the growing crowd, narrowly dodging garbage and other such articles that are thrown his way. he comes to a stop at the top of the stairs, looking down at the crowd, at a loss for words. how can you call yourself our mayor?! why are you keeping secrets?! what else is there what else don’t we know are you even on our sidehowcanwetrustaliaryoudon’tdeservetob-

“people, people, please!” his voice cuts through the shouted questions that threaten to crumble his already wavering psyche. the worst possible case scenario has just shown up on his doorstep- and he finds himself struggling to deal with it. “i assure you it was never my intention to keep secrets from you,” he continues, brows furrowing over a sincere gaze. however honest he’s being, the mayor is clearly not in top condition to deal with the situation. he opens his mouth again to stammer out his explanation, when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.  

“your mayor neglected to inform you all per my instructions,” the figure booms from beside mayor austere. the crowd seems to silence at the sudden arrival, entranced by the stranger. to them, the man seems to be glowing with an unsourced light. “i am the archangel GABRIEL,” behind gabriel stands MICHAEL, who is known around town. “joined by my brother Michael. we asked your mayor to investigate a breach in hell’s gates for us, and report directly to us to avoid a panic like the one we have now. please, be still.” incredulous mumbles scatter through the crowd, but they are quickly dispersed when the two angels standing by the mayor unleash their wings. to many, it might be too difficult to stare directly at. the light they resonate is celestial. “but now that things are in the open, we can assure you that this creature you saw on your devices is on your side. they are a select few who have been allowed to return to their human forms. they protect the town in exchange, per our orders. mayor austere hasn’t lied to you. dark threats loom over this city, and i fear the worst is yet to come. please, go home for now. continue your lives as you have been. my brother and i will be available to you from here on out, but for now...get some rest.” the angels ignore the questions being thrown at them and usher the mayor back into city hall. the last thing the crowd sees before the double doors close are michael’s large, blindingly white wings, which sends a gust of wind into the crowd strong enough to push people a few feet back. 

                                    ___________________________________________

setting: the old lumber mill warehouse, just between salem and eastrath 11:51pm.

“that makes 13.”

“i count 14.”

ANTHONY LORENZO and ORION GREYSON stand amidst 14 bodies, protected from detection and watchful eyes by azrael’s own blessing. the imp raises a bloodstained hand to his mouth. a tongue hovers near the ruby red substance when a crash comes from the other side of the warehouse, earning the interest of both men. matching grins, sharper than an assassin’s knife, stretch as eyes full of bloodlust meet each other. 

“you know what’s better than 14?”

claws unsheathe from the imps hand, the sound slicing through the still night air. the sound of bones cracking follow as the siren cracks his neck. the two are in the outer hallway immediately, allowing tony a glimpse of a new victim fleeing out the back door, into the woods outside. they expertly dodge each other as they rush through the hallway and out the door. it would be clear that this is not their first massacre together, were anyone watching.  

“15.” 

shadowy figures move out of the warehouse and into the night, their supernatural speed causing them to look more like electrically charged figures bounding from spot to spot. it doesn’t take long for them to catch up to the fleeing civilian. they follow him into a clearing in the woods, where he stops in the middle, out of breath. “please! i have a family! i can get you money!” in unison, the boys chime. “oh, shut up.” the last thing the man sees is red: the color of his own blood staining tear-filled eyes. 

                                     ___________________________________________

the police are at the warehouse the following morning, responding to a 911 call at 5:22am from a warehouse employee. the warehouse’s main hall is covered in blood, and a few dozen of the bodies have been posed in the center of the floor. torsos, severed heads and limbs, are littered on the floor in the shape of a pentagram. the pentagram’s shape is lined underneath the bodies in blood. found in the woods, half a mile from the scene, is old farmer abernathy, strung on a pole in a fashion similar to that of a scarecrow. his throat has been slashed and stuffed with some of the dry grass that covers the clearing’s floor. his hands are purple from the ropes tightly wound around his wrists. surrounding the figure on the pole is a much larger pentagram, this time made of fire. 

the fire crew are the next people on the scene, soon followed by local news stations. the story is broadcast on the first news of the day, the 7am session. headlines read: MASSACRE AT THE MILL. a moment of silence is given on the news for the following victims: 

Melody Pearson, Katrina Brock, Patti Cooper, Isaac Hernandez, Jaime Greer, Janie Briggs, Austin Hammond, Valerie Bradley, Lee Grant, Betsy Fletcher, Carroll Schneider, Clayton Abernathy, Gordon Delgado, Mindy Chandler, Sylvia Summers

                                    ___________________________________________

PLAYER NOTES: players may post threads surrounding/involving the events of this plot drop. if you want your muse to have known any of the listed deceased, go ahead and add it into your interactions! if you would like your muses to have plot specific interactions (i.e meeting with the mayor, any of the exposed angels, etc), or have part in any upcoming plot drops, events, etc, please approach any admin. 

tldr; first of all :’) ow. second of all, ANGELS have appeared in salem, specifically the archangels MICHAEL and GABRIEL 15 bodies have been found with no suspects thus far. NEWS ANCHORS announced an 8pm CURFEW following the murders, effective immediately. 

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Legend of Chapter 85

Warnings: I’m skipping the rest of the worlds cause I’m a lazy piece of shit

Rating: SFW

Hana laid in her bed, tossing and turning as she was having a dream. Not a really good one at that. 

Hana looked around and saw that that she was in a nice house in Twilight Town. She walked around and heard a scream not too far away. She followed the sound and was soon horrified at the sight. There on the ground, was her father, Xigbar, dead as blood poured out of his body. Hugging his lifeless body was Luna, sobbing at the loss of her husband. And standing above them was a man that Hana didn’t know. But she knew that he was the one who killed her father. She rushed over to him but she woke up.

“DADDY!” She screamed. She looked around and saw that she was in her old room in the Castle That Never Was. She felt the stinging pain in the back of her neck and quickly covered it. “Right. That happened.” 

She heard what sounded like chittering and looked around. There wasn’t anything there. But the chittering continued. She looked at her old vanity and found these demon-like creatures playing with the mirror. 

“What the...?” Hana asked. She got out of bed, but since she was still weak, she fell to the ground, alerting the creatures. They chittered and rushed over to Hana, making sure she was okay. They stacked on top of each other and Hana looked at them. They looked familiar to her but she couldn’t remember why. She suddenly remembered and gasped. 

“Aki...Kek...Azrael...Lorelai...Morana...Thana...Achlys...” she whispered. The creatures chittered happily and Hana wrapped them up in a big hug. 

                                                          ☽✧☽✧

After returning to her body, Luna changed into some fresh clothes and found Mukuro and Ansem still embracing each other in one of Master Yen Sid’s guest bedrooms. She walked over to them and knocked on the door frame. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said. Mukuro spotted Luna and smiled.

“No. This one just refuses to let go,” she replied. 

“I have my reasons,” Ansem mumbled. 

“Yes, I know.” Luna giggled and heard someone walk in. She turned around and there was Rumi, shocked as ever. 

“Mom...?” she asked. Mukuro and Ansem looked over and saw their youngest. They let go of the hug and Mukuro walked up to Rumi. Rumi started to cry and hugged her mother tightly. “I just knew I’d see you again!” 

After a few moments, Mukuro let go of the hug and looked around for Hayner, Pence, and Olette but they were nowhere to be found. 

“Where are the triplets? I thought that they would be here to welcome me back,” she said. She looked at Ansem and saw that he looked pale from nervousness. “What happened?”

“Um, hey I gotta go help Xemnas and my brothers save my sister. I’m just gonna go,” he said as he tried to exit the room. Luna summoned her shadows and dragged him back inside the room.

“Ansem! I am the mother of your children and your wife! Tell me!” Mukuro yelled. 

“Alright, fine! But you’re gonna want to sit down for this.” Mukuro sat down on the bed with her arms crossed as Ansem stood up, still looking nervous. 

“Well?!” Mukuro asked. 

“Okay, how do I explain this without you getting mad at me?” Ansem asked as he paced a little. 

“It’s inevitable, just do it!” Luna said. 

“Alright, alright!” Ansem took a deep breath and started speaking very fast. “ThetripletslosttheirmemoriesbecauseOlettedsicoveredherpowersandtheyarelivinginTwilightTownwithclosefriends.” 

Somehow, Mukuro was able to understand what Ansem was saying, and was very shocked. 

“O-Olette has powers? Is she okay? Are the boys okay?” she asked. 

“They’re fine,” Ansem reassured her. But that seemed to piss Mukuro off. 

“Then why the hell weren’t they living with you?!” she shouted. 

“Don’t blame me! Blame my dad! He’s the one who created this whole mess!” That only seem to piss Mukuro off more. 

“HE WENT AFTER OUR CHILDREN?!” she shrieked. 

“Not technically! But he wanted me to do something that I will forever regret!” 

“Then why did you give them up?!” 

“She doesn’t even know about how I woke up alone in the mansion,” Rumi commented. That set Mukuro off even more. She shot up and started screaming at him.

“YOU WHAT?!” she shouted at Ansem. Ansem looked at her nervously and gave a scared smile. 

“I love you?” he asked. Before Mukuro broke Ansem’s balls, Xemnas walked in and ended the feud. 

“Vanitas and Xeha are here,” he said, not bothering to care about the scene in front of him. There wasn’t time for this nonsense. Hana and Era were in trouble and needed help. Mukuro scoffed and walked toward Master Yen Sid’s office. She’ll get him back. Somehow.

                                                         ☽✧☽✧

Back at Disney Castle, Mickey burst into the royal hall to confront Pete and Maleficent where he saw Pete holding Minnie tightly. 

“Pete, you big thug!” Donald shouted. 

“‘Thug’ works for me. We all got a role to play, right?” Pete responded with a grin. 

“Gawrsh, at least he's honest, in a dishonest way,” Goofy commented. With Minnie captive, Pete had the advantage, and he knew it. 

“Silence! No underling of mine shall be insulted so. I have great plans for dear Pete and for all the worlds...once I have taken them for my own,” Maleficent proclaimed. 

“Then I've got bad news for you--that day's never gonna come,” Mickey told the evil fairy. 

“Perhaps you should take a few moments to reconsider. Or does the queen's life mean nothing to you at all?” Maleficent’s reply made their position clear. They could do nothing as long as Minnie was a hostage. 

“Mickey! Don't you listen to her! You can't let Maleficent have her--” Minnie shouted as Mickey and his comrades racked their brains over what to do. But Pete covered Minnie’s mouth before she could finish. 

“No! Minnie!” Mickey took a step forward as he cried out her name. He glared at Maleficent, clenching his fists for a moment to calm the fury in his heart. “All right, Maleficent. Tell us what you want.” 

She smirked and stroked her chin.

“Let me see... Shall I begin with this world? I much preferred it in its darker, more ominous permutation,” she said. 

“You said it. This place needs some lights-out time!” Pete added. But Mickey didn’t believe for a moment that was enough reason for her to come all this way. 

“You're lying, Maleficent. Not even you would go through this much trouble just for that. What is it you're really after?” he pressed. The fairy regarded him coldly. 

“Very perceptive. I presume you are familiar with Xehanort, the man who led me to discover worlds outside of my own?” she said. At that name, Mickey and everyone else gasped. 

“You know him?” Mickey asked. 

“As do you, I see,” Maleficent chuckled before continuing. “Yes, he shared everything with me--how to go about winning a heart over to the darkness, and, most gloriously, about the seven hearts of pure light--the ones that would grant me the power I need to conquer all worlds. However, the worlds were too complex, too much for even me to contain. It seemed I had miscalculated. Then it came to me--of course! I could go about conquering other worlds in my own manner. And we’re after the same Spirit. But it seemed that he had beat me to it.” 

“What do ya mean? What Spirit are you after?” 

“Why, the Death Spirit. One of the most powerful Spirits that ever existed.” Mickey and his friends gasped. They knew who she was talking about. 

“Hana...” 

“Bingo! Little miss Death Spirit has finally been captured!” Pete said.

“Why do you want her?” Mickey demanded. 

“I'm afraid that is no concern of yours,” Maleficent told him icily. Mickey was ready to fight her, and took a step forward, fixing her with a hard look. 

“Ah-ah-ah... Wouldn't want her Royal Minnie Mousiness to get a boo-boo, now would we?” But Pete’s warning brought him to a halt. 

“I see you have failed to recognize the futility of your situation. Very well...Face your doom!” With that, Maleficent unleashed her magic. But when the spell was about to hit Mickey and his friends, something deflected it. Mickey noticed a pair of round, disc-shaped weapons--chakrams--at the edge of his vision. But there was no time to check who threw them. He couldn’t let the moment go to waste!

“What?!” As Pete staggered back, Minnie used the opportunity and freed herself from his grasp. 

“Light!” It was enough to free her from his clutches and she ran for it. “Oh, Mickey!” 

The king rushed over to her, and they took each other’s hands. 

“Minnie!” Then, putting Minnie safely behind her, Mickey summoned his Keyblade. “Maleficent...you lose!” 

Victory was certain at this point. Mickey glared at the fairy and her cohort. 

“Say, uh, milady, I think the pipsqueak's right. We better hit the road!” Pete said, so meekly that it was hard to believe that he was so arrogant before. 

“I now know that what I seek lies within these walls. Trust that I will eliminate you in good time.” Still confident, Maleficent opened a dark corridor beside her and stepped into it with a swirl of her cape. 

“Hey! Wait for me! Maleficent?” Panicking, Pete hurried after her, and the two of them had disappeared. Meanwhile, another dark portal had opened in the room. 

“You used the darkness to get here? That was reckless,” Mickey said as he turned toward it. Though Mickey had lowered his Keyblade, Donald and Goofy still had their weapons up. “But gosh, I didn't expect you to save us...Axel.” 

The man he had called Axel smirked and replied with a smile. 

“Axel didn't. My name is Lea,” he said as he put a finger to his head. “Got it memorized?” 

To be continued...

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [59]

i. eden 

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 15.1k (yes, you read that right)

Warnings: mentions of blood, vomit, injuries, anxiety, mentions of lesions/radiation, angst, language, allusions to suicide/suicidal thoughts, violence, injury, fighting, death.

Summary: Praimfaya has passed, leaving you and Clarke separated from everyone you love. Six years pass, and in that time, your life changes in ways you never expected.

a/n: FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THE LOVE ON THE S4 FINALE (AND IN GENERAL!!!) I LOVE ALL OF YOU MORE THAN THE STARS! SECOND OF ALL, YOU ALL VOTED FOR TWO UPDATES THIS WEEK DESPITE THE LENGTH OF THIS ONE! SO ASSUMING ALL IS WELL AFTER THIS HURRICANE, YOU SHOULD STILL HAVE A FRIDAY UPDATE! THAT IS ASSUMING I HAVE POWER AND WIFI OFCOURSE! OKAY THAT IS ALL HAPPY SEASON FIIIIIVEEEE!!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

12 hours after Praimfaya

You jump awake with a gasp. 

You don’t know why, but panic is pulsing through you, making your heart pound and your breath come out in quick gasps. You look around, trying to figure out what’s going on, eyes raking over the scene in front of you. Nightblood is spread out on the floor around you, a throbbing pain in your left arm. You turn to look at the source of the pain, confused, until your eyes land on the sloppily stitched wound and see the lesions all along your skin. 

You turn your head and vomit. 

Slowly, the pieces fall together, and you remember everything. Raven, stuck on the island, taking off your helmet to save Emori, deciding to go to space. You and Clarke running to the tower to turn on the lights on the Ark, the rocket launching without you, Bellamy leaving you behind. Praimfaya quickly approaching, nearly swallowing you and Clarke whole. Clarke falling and smashing her helmet, cutting open your arm, Clarke coughing up blood. The flood of memories increases your panic, and you turn your head, looking for Clarke, her body still in the same exact place you left her in. 

You crawl over to her and check her breathing and heartbeat, relieved that she’s still alive, but that relief doesn't last for long. Although you and Clarke were both exposed to the radiation in the air outside, Clarke’s exposure is clearly much worse. Every inch of her exposed skin is covered in spots and lesions, looking painfully cracked and irritated. Though you have no idea how to care for her, you know that you have to. You pull off your radiation suit, and toss it to the side, before you clumsily get Clarke out of hers the best you can. Once you're both free, you look around, trying to find a place to put her. Luckily, the two of you never made it down the stairs of the lab before you passed out, meaning you’re on the same level as the office. 

You hook your arms under hers and drag her to the room and onto one of the couches. You make sure to turn her on her side in case she pukes or coughs up blood, and you put a trash can nearby in case she needs it. Then you head out into the lab in search of anything you can find to help you. You scour Becca’s computer and files for any tips on how to help Clarke, and after an hour or two, you manage to find a few resources to help you. None of them take into account Nightblood, and you know that your mom didn't do much to help Luna, but at the very least, you have a few tips to help your twin, especially if things get worse. 

Knowing now that the best thing for her is rest, you leave her be and clean up the mess the two of you made in the lab. The act of scrubbing Nightblood off the floors and table keeps your mind off the reality of the situation, a fact that you’re grateful for. But as soon as you’re done, your memories come rushing back, and you start to panic again, until a single thought comes rushing back to you. 

The radio.

You run back up the stairs and into the office, before heading straight to the radio and turning it on. Kane usually kept the channels and frequencies that you used the same as the ones used on the Ark, so you start scanning each one, experimentally calling out, “Bellamy, it’s me, can you hear me?”

You do this for an hour, unsuccessfully scanning each channel and searching for a response. You repeat the same process as you attempt to talk to the bunker, but you’re met with no response from them either. Right now, you and Clarke are well and truly alone. Wanlida and Wanheda, Azazel and Azrael, shining star and la lune, you and Clarke, the Griffin Twins. 

Left behind by your friends, your family, the people you love. 

No one left but each other.

Survival begins.

-

24 hours after Praimfaya

You wake from your nap with a start, your subconscious still on edge about Clarke and her condition.

You get up from the couch you’re sprawled out on and walk over to check on Clarke, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, letting you know she’s still okay. You consider trying to fall asleep again, but it only takes a second for you to remember the anxiety pulsing through you, and you know sleep will only evade you now. Instead, you wander back into the lab, looking for something to do, your feet taking you past the doors that used to hide the rocket. You stare at the closed doors, thinking of the rocket, which now floats in space, without you, and something compels you to push the button and open the doors. 

They slide open, revealing a large empty space, the hole left behind as empty as the hole in your heart, and you start to turn and walk out of the space when something catches your eye in the corner of the room.

A pack. 

Your pack.

You run over to it and grab it, relieved that something of yours has been left behind. You unzip the main part and look inside, seeing that the pictures you had are gone, left in the bunker with your mother. Your clothes are gone too, along with your fancy soap, but your pack, the bag that has gone nearly everywhere with you in the last few months, is here with you, and for now, that’s enough. 

You turn the pack upside down and dump the contents of the bag on the floor, cataloging everything you have with you, in case anything might be helpful later. First aid kit, flare, a few rations, a flashlight, a single radio. 

You sigh, disappointed to find nothing particularly useful, and you grab the pack and pull it towards you, prepared to toss everything back inside, but something about the pack makes your brows pull together in confusion. It’s heavier than it should be now that it’s empty. You start to unzip the few pouches on the pack, pulling them open to reveal absolutely nothing, until you reach the very last pouch. You unzip the front pocket, pulling it open, your eyes landing on a book that you definitely did not put in your bag. Yellow cover, blue binding. The Iliad. 

Bellamy.

You smile and reach for the familiar book, abandoned since the race to beat Praimfaya began, only half finished. You open the cover, flipping past the first few pages, when the scrawl of someone's handwriting catches your eye. You flip back a few pages, tears welling up in your eyes when you see his handwriting on the first page of the book, before the title page. A note, addressed to you, though you’re unsure when. As you start to read, tears well up in your eyes.

My radiant moon,

I’m writing this letter to you to tell you that I love you. 

Right now, you’re asleep beside me, unbothered by the chaos of life that awaits us outside our door. When you sleep, you have a tendency to pull me closer to you, always reaching out for me anytime I shift or leave the bed. I don’t think you even know that you do it, but each time you do, I’m hit with the strength of your love. I’ve never had someone love me like this before.

But, I feel the same for you. Looking down at you now, I want nothing more than to love and protect you for the rest of my life. I promise to always do that. 

I don't know when you’ll find this, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe when we’re old and gray, surrounded by our kids and grandkids, watching our family gather together and spread the love that we share. 

All I know is that you are my love and my heart, and I am a better man because of you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that to you. I know that I've made mistakes, and that at times I don't deserve the love that you give me, and when I feel that way, I’m going to work to earn it. 

For now, though, I have to go. The love of my life is reaching out for me, trying to pull me closer. I love you more than the stars, my radiant moon. You light up my life in ways I didn't even know were possible.

Forever yours,

Bellamy

 If you weren’t already kneeling, the note would have made you collapse. Instead, reading Bellamy’s words hits you like a freight train, reminding you of your grief, reminding you of your loss. Five years. You’ll have to spend the next five years without him, left with nothing more than this note and your memories. The tears that have been steadily building in you since reading the first word now fall, loud, grief stricken sobs breaking free from your chest, nearly choking you with their force. 

And there you stay, on your knees on the floor of Becca’s lab, crying for everything you’ve lost.

-

36 hours after Praimfaya

You sit in the office of the lab, watching over Clarke, willing her to wake up. Fear and anxiety pulse through you, so powerful you feel sick, absolutely terrified at the thought that you’ll have to do this alone, without your twin by your side. The more you stare at her though, the more anxious you feel, and you finally stand and turn away from her, unable to take the anxiety for another second. 

Your feet carry you over to the desk where most of your things now lie, including your pack, The Iliad, and your knife. You pick the knife up and turn it over in your hand, looking over the tallymarks you’ve etched into the handle. Five marks in total, one for each life you have taken with this blade. The first Grounder during the Battle of the Dropship, the second Grounder that attacked Bellamy and nearly killed him, Shumway. You feel a roll of nausea when you think of Shumway, a kill so different from the others. But you push the thought away, knowing this is a dangerous path to walk down. Instead, you run your finger over the fourth tally, the one for the Azgeda assassin that nearly took your life in Mount Weather, leaving the fifth and final mark for Dakiva, the Ice Nation warrior who was a little too eager to kill you and your friends. 

You start to put the knife back down when you realize the chaos of Praimfaya nearly made you forget the two lives you took right before coming to Becca’s Island. You dig through the desk drawer until you find something sharp enough to etch into the wooden handle, and you add the last two tally marks, bringing the total to seven. You take a deep breath as you finish, thinking of all 7 kills, along with the countless others you’ve had a hand in. It’s hard not to think of them now when there is nothing but silence all around you, the chaos of the Earth calm for the first time since you’ve landed. You know you had a reason for every life you took, but you know the enemies that you’ve fought also had a reason when they killed your friends. Trikru killed off the delinquents because you landed in their territory and accidentally burned down a village with the flares you fired into space. The Mountain Men killed your friends for their bone marrow because they believed it was their birthright to walk the Earth, the same way your people were taught that it was their birthright to eventually return to the ground. Pike killed every Grounder he encountered because he thought they were a threat to your people. Alie, as calculating as she was, took lives for the greater good, in an attempt to save the human race from Praimfaya. 

Every life you took was to save your people, your friends, your family, yourself. Does that make it okay? Echo said that war makes murderers of you all, and there’s no denying that you’re a killer. When it comes down to you and your people against an enemy, you will kill the enemy without a second thought, no hesitation. You are Wanlida, the Bringer of Death, but what does that truly say about you? Are you evil? Are you a monster? 

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Between Clarke’s condition and the downtime, your head is practically spinning with thoughts, flying around like a chaotic tornado, destroying everything in its path. You drop the knife onto the desk and walk back over to the couch, laying back on it and closing your eyes, hoping that, for once, you can fall asleep quickly and get out of your head. 

-

48 hours after Praimfaya

“Bellamy, can you hear me?” You sit staring at the radio, wishing for Bellamy’s voice to come through, answering you, but you hear nothing other than the steady thud of your heart in your ears. You flip to the next channel, and press the button to try again. “This would be so much easier if I could just hear your voice. Bellamy, please answer me.”

You wait, heart dropping when you’re met with the sound of silence once again. You move on to the next channel, eyes glancing to the bandage on your arm, a line of lesions peeking out from beneath it. “It’s been 2 days since Praimfaya, can anyone hear me?”

“The Ark is on channel two.”

Your eyes lift at the sound of the other voice, falling to the couch where your twin lays, watching as she weakly pulls herself up. You rush over to her, tears flooding your eyes, relief taking over every inch of your body. As soon as you reach her, you pull her into a hug, holding her tight. “I was worried you wouldn't make it, and that I’d have to do this all alone.”

She smiles at you as you pull back. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She winces from the pain that smiling brings her, and your eyes scan her face, checking over her radiation damage. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” She looks around the room, eyes falling on the other couch, the one you’ve been sleeping on. “Did you say it’s been two days since Praimfaya?”

“Yes. You’ve been unconscious since we got back inside the lab.” You stand and grab part of the MRE you were eating earlier. “Here, eat.”

She takes the granola bar, breaking off a few small pieces before trying to hand the rest back to you. “We should ration what we have left, we don't know how long it’ll last.”

“Yes we do. I already counted everything up while you were out. We have enough rations to last us for at least two months, and there’s enough for us to eat a little more right now. We need the strength.”

She nods and takes the full bar, eating it slowly as she thinks. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“We will. After you eat and rest.”

She accepts the command and eats the rest of just eating and talking. You stand from the couch, giving her the space to stretch out again. She closes her eyes, and before she drifts completely into sleep, she reminds you, “The Ark is channel two, the bunker is on channel five.”

“Thank you, Clarke.”

“I hope you hear from him.”

“Me too.”

-

14 days after Praimfaya

“We should go to the bunker.”

“What?” You look up from the list of supplies you’re checking over, and Clarke looks up from the rations she’s carefully stacking and arranging. “We can't stay in the lab forever, we’re going to run out of food. We should go to the bunker.”

You look at her, the healing lesions on her face, and then down at the healing injury on your arm, still surrounded by some small spots. “What about the radiation levels?”

“We can survive the radiation as Nightbloods, but everything is still too high right now. If we step outside, we’ll live, but we'll be miserable the entire way to Polis. But that gives us time to prepare and pack.”

You consider this, unsure why the thought hadn’t come to you before. Maybe it was the grief that overshadowed everything you did most days, maybe it was your intense focus on survival, but the thought of living in the bunker hadn't really crossed your mind. But when Clarke mentions it and lays out a formative plan, you find yourself nodding in agreement, excited at the prospect of not being completely alone. “Okay. Let’s do it..”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

-

30 days after Praimfaya

“Hey Bell. It’s been 30 days since Praimfaya wiped everything out. Me and Clarke have been planning our escape from Becca’s lab. In less than two weeks, we’re going to make the trip from the Island to Polis. It’s going to be hard, because we have no idea what we’ll be facing on the surface. The death wave took out any drones we had, leaving us blind to what’s happening up there. We’re hoping the rover survived, it’ll make the trip much easier. Still, I'm excited at the thought of being in the bunker, reuniting with my mom, Kane, and Octavia. I think things will be easier down there, especially since we’ll all have each other. Anyways, I wish I was going to the bunker to live with you. Better yet, I wish I was in space with you, swimming amongst the stars. I haven’t seen the sky in a month, and I'm starting to get restless down here. I guess if I get restless in the bunker, I can just climb up and explore the surface. The benefits of Nightblood.”

You hear Clarke calling you from down in the lab, and you yell back, “Coming!”

You lift the radio again, smiling sadly at it. “That’s Clarke, I have to go. I miss you, Bellamy. It feels like I’m missing half of my heart without you here. I hope you’re staying sane up there, and I hope you know how much I love you.”

-

42 days after Praimfaya

You turn to look back at Clarke, an excited grin on your face. “I see light, Clarke! I think we're almost to the surface!”

“Keep going!”

You turn your gaze back to the large slab of concrete above you, feeling around for a place to grab onto. You brace yourself against the rubble below you, Clarke’s hands held onto your ankles, holding you still and in place, and then you push, shoving the concrete with all the strength you have. It takes a few pushes to get it completely loose, but when you finally do, it rolls away, sending bright light flowing into the dark space. You laugh in disbelief, and you can hear Clarke doing the same behind you before you climb the last few feet to the surface. You turn and help Clarke up, grabbing her hand and guiding her through the space, before both of you turn and look out at the landscape around you. 

Your earlier relief quickly fades, shocked at the sight in front of you. Everything your eye can see is sand; dry, barren, dead land. There are no trees, the water on the edge of the island is gone. The mansion and the lighthouse bunker are leveled, nothing more than memories now. You and Clarke exchange a look, sick with the thought of how much walking you’ll have to do across this desert landscape. Clarke turns and pulls two packs out of the hole, passing you yours, before pulling the map from hers. She unfolds it, holding it up so you can see, both of you warily eyeing the long distance from the island to the bunker. “210 miles to Polis.”

Though you expected the water to be gone, your brain struggles to make the connection that this is the same land you crossed in a boat not long ago. Still, you joke to ease the worry. “At least we don't have to swim.”

Clarke folds up the map, putting it back in her pack, before she pulls it on and turns to you. “We’ve got this.”

You nod, agreeing, before you climb your way down from the pile of rubble that was once the lab, and begin the long journey to Polis. 

-

You and Clarke walk across the barren seabed for what feels like days, but is likely only a few hours. The sun beats down on you both, mercilessly hot, and the air is so dry and stagnant that it sucks all the moisture from your body, making you miserable. A slight breeze blows over you occasionally, but it only brings sand your way, doing little to cool you off. You and Clarke barely speak, preserving your energy for the walk ahead, before eventually, you hear Clarke make a small sound of excitement. You look over at her, but her vision is locked on something in the distance, and you turn your head that way, following her gaze over to a small pile of rocks. You smile, remembering the same rocks as the ones that once sat on the shore, marking the place where the boat on the island was frequently stopped at. 

You and Clarke immediately take off running, dropping to your knees in the middle of the pile of rocks, frantically digging the sand away with your bare hands. After only seconds of digging, you exclaim, “There’s something here!”

Clarke pulls the small shovel she found in the lab from her pack, digging large chunks of sand out of the way until you see a small bit of metal. You help her dig even deeper, exposing the metal more and more, until finally, you recognize the gun that sits on the front of the rover. You and Clarke exchange laughs of disbelief, before you turn and pull off your packs, ready to begin the process of digging the rover out of the sand. 

It takes a few hours, the sun gradually setting in the process, cooling the earth around you slightly. But for once, you don't care about the heat, your mind and body too focused on getting the rover out. Once it’s free, Clarke pulls open the door and you stand beside her as she experimentally turns the keys, still left behind in the ignition. The rover stutters for half a second, and your stomach drops, thinking that it’s not going to work, until a second later the engine roars to life. You and Clarke laugh in joyous disbelief once again, turning and hugging each other tight over this small victory.

When she releases you, you run and grab both of your packs, tossing them in the back as you jump into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you. Clarke slides in behind the wheel, pulling away from the dried seabed, pointing the rover in the direction of Polis, your soon to be home. As Clarke drives through the barren landscape, you hear an odd rumble behind you, and you turn and glance out the window at an approaching storm cloud, crackling with electricity, ominously dark. Clarke pushes the rover faster, trying to outrun it as you watch the terrifying storm grow closer. “What if we got caught in that without the rover?”

“I’m not sure we’d survive.”

You shudder at the thought, thankful that the two of you found the vehicle and that it works. Clarke continues on towards Polis, and you keep an eye on the storm for a while, until eventually, you outrun it, safe from its destruction. 

At some point on the way to Polis, you doze off, catching a few hours of sleep as the sun sets and the moon rises into the sky. Clarke wakes you up a few hours later, and the two of you trade off, leaving you behind the wheel to drive as she gets a chance to rest. As Clarke sleeps peacefully beside you, you grab the radio in the rover and set it to channel two, lifting the receiver to ask, “My love, can you hear me?”

You’re not surprised to hear nothing in return, but disappointment still sits heavy on you as you sigh and push on, committed to your routine at this point. “It’s been 43 days since Praimfaya. Clarke and I left Becca’s Island yesterday, and everything looks terrible. You wouldn't believe how much sand there is now, everything living now dead and gone at this point. It took us a few hours of walking, but luckily we ended up finding the rover, and by some miracle, it still works. We’re nearly to Polis now, I think we’ll make it in a few hours. I’ll let you know when we make it in the bunker, and I'll make sure to give Octavia your love. I know she’ll be sad you aren’t with me.”

You put the radio down and whisper to yourself, “Kind of like how I'm sad you aren't with me.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes and fall down your cheeks, your grief over being separated just as painful as the first day. You put the radio back down, too upset to continue your message, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand come down and rest on your thigh. You turn to look at Clarke in surprise, her eyes full of pity, and you quickly wipe the tears from your face. “I thought you were asleep.”

“My twin senses were tingling.”

You force a smile to your face, locking your eyes on the road ahead of you. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

“I didn't lose him, not really. I shouldn't be this upset.”

Clarke’s voice is soft, comforting, when she answers you. “La lune, you’re allowed to be as upset as you feel. We can all see how much you and Bellamy love each other, and even though he’s still alive, the two of you have to spend the next five years apart. That's hard to do, and you’re allowed to be upset over it.”

You feel tears fall down your cheeks again, finally voicing the one thought that’s been circling your brain since this all began. “He probably thinks we’re dead, Clarke. I’m scared that he feels guilty, or responsible, and I just wish I could talk to him one time to let him know we made it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. If I could fix the radios and get your message to him, I would, no matter what it took.”

“I know.” You wipe away your tears again, giving her a more genuine smile this time. “I’m just glad I’ve had you throughout this experience.”

“Me too.”

You spend the rest of the drive in silence, both of you going over the events of the last 40 something days in your own heads. When you finally pull into Polis the sun is now up, lighting up the streets and guiding your way to the tower. Most of the buildings are still standing, small and low enough that Praimfaya ran through them but didn't level them. But you know that the tower has fallen, because you didn't get a single glimpse of it as you approached the Grounder capital. When you approach a large pile of fallen rubble, Clarke mumbles, “Stop here.”

You do as she says, turning off the rover and following your twin out of the vehicle as she runs to the rubble. She climbs up it carefully, standing on top of the pile to get a better look at the scene in front of her. You can see her face fall as she stares out, and as soon as you stand beside her, you can see why. The tower is 90% destroyed, only the first five stories remaining. The rubble you now stand on is part of the fallen building, knocked down easily by Praimfaya. “The bunker is underneath all of this?”

Clarke nods, her expression grim, before turning away. “C’mon, we have to find a way in.”

You follow her past the fallen stories until you reach the remaining part of the building that’s still standing. Rubble blocks the way, meaning your entrance to the bunker is blocked. Clarke immediately starts moving blocks of concrete from the path, turning and carrying them away in silence. You follow suit, both of you working together to move the larger pieces, gradually chipping away at the concrete that blocks the door to your future home. The debris you clear forms a sort of tunnel to the door, shielding you from the sun briefly as you work to haul away the stone obstructions. Periodically, the building seems to shift and rumble, leaving you with an uneasy feeling, and you and Clarke both freeze in place, hoping that the concrete above you stays in place. 

You both stop halfway through the day to bandage your hands, the continuous lifting of the rough stone leaving your hands raw and bleeding, and you spend that time splitting one of the last rations you have on hand. It barely leaves you satisfied, hunger still gnawing at you, but you push past it, using the feeling to motivate you to work harder to reach the door. You and Clarke continue working until it gets too dark to see the rubble, and only then do you both crawl into the back of the rover and fall asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the day.

-

You wake to the feeling of someone shaking you, Clarke’s sleepy voice calling your name and urging you awake. “I think we can reach the door today if we work hard.”

You blink the sleep from your eyes and sit up, groaning at the soreness in your muscles, already weary at the thought of lifting stones for another day. But if you get it done today, you could be in a real bed tonight. The thought gets you up and moving, following Clarke back into the tunnel to continue moving rubble away from the door. You start to get close by midday, blocked by a few large pieces that you and your twin struggle to move. No matter how hard you try, neither of you can shift the stone out of the way, leaving both of you frustrated, tired, and sore. Clarke starts to bang on the rubble with a large rock, screaming and yelling, hoping something will come of it. “We’re here! We’re here! Mom!”

She falls backwards onto her butt, all of her energy leaving her at once, and the movement shifts a rock behind her. Both of you stare at it in fear, waiting for a collapse that never comes. Clarke’s expression, however, morphs into one of shock, her eyes locked on something you can't see from where you're standing. You step closer as she pulls on something, eventually freeing a large, gnarled piece of wood. As you look at the source of the wood, tied together with similar looking pieces and a few spears, you realize that it was the throne. Lexa’s throne.

Clarke stares at the wood in her hand in sadness, tears welling up in her eyes. You think of her words from earlier, when you were in the rover. I know what it’s like to lose someone. You reach out and place a comforting hand on her arm, opening your mouth to say something when you hear a low rumble. Something about it lifts the hairs on the back of your neck, and your senses quickly shift into overdrive. You realize you can feel slight shaking, and nearby a small stone drops from up above, alerting you to a larger problem seconds before it hits. 

You wrap your hand around Clarke’s arm and pull her towards the entrance, both of you running through the tunnel as the rumbling behind you grows louder. You dive out of the entrance just in time, you and Clarke rolling over the stone debris at the entrance just as the tunnel collapses behind you, sending out a large plume of dust and smoke. You both scramble backwards, away from the falling hazard, watching in horror as all the work you put in is destroyed, burying the bunker door even worse than before.

You stare at the rubble in silence, both of you already aware of the reality at hand: no amount of digging will get you to the bunker door. You and Clarke are officially stuck on the outside, while your mom and the others are stuck on the inside. Without more help for the rubble, the two of you will never get that door open on your own. 

Eventually the two of you trudge back to the rover, her taking the passenger seat, you taking the driver’s seat, still shocked into silence over what just happened. Neither of you say a word as you turn the rover on and start to drive, pulling away from the bunker, the tower, and Polis, taking you back out into the barren landscape. Clarke doesn't ask where you’re going, and for a long time, you aren't sure where you’re driving to either, until the landscape, though desolate, starts to become more familiar. Within minutes, you stop the rover, you and Clarke both looking out the windshield at your former home. What’s left of it anyways.

You hop out, walking past the mostly destroyed sign, welcoming visitors to all that remains of Arkadia, home of the Sky People. It’s mostly a field of debris at this point, the walls knocked down and most of the ring of Alpha Station destroyed, leaving next to nothing behind. You and Clarke scavenge through what’s left, grabbing anything that might be useful to you later. As you wander through the field of debris, you stumble upon an ammo box, locked tight with a small padlock. You pry on the lid, trying to get it open, only to fail miserably. You shrug and grab it, adding it to your growing pile of items to sort through later.

After the sun sets, you and Clarke sit in the back of the rover, sharing your last ration and the last few sips of water from the canteen. Neither of you talk about it, not wanting to address the obvious fact that soon, without food or water, and unable to get into the bunker, you’ll both die. Instead, Clarke pushes the locked box towards you and hands you a hammer. “Open it.”

You bust the lock, before popping open the lid and reaching inside. Your hands close around a small ipod, and when you flip it over, you can see a label on the back, a name printed on it, letting everyone know who this belonged to. 

Maya.

You pass it to Clarke, both of you aware that the last person to have Maya’s ipod was Jasper. You reach into the box again and grab the next item inside, a large pair of goggles, formerly worn daily by Jasper when all of you first landed in the dropship. As you stare at the goggles, Clarke pulls something else out of the box, the last item inside. It’s a piece of paper, folded in half once, Monty’s name written on the front in Jasper’s handwriting. Clarke starts to open it, but you put your hand over hers, stopping her. Knowing how Jasper spent his last few days, you can imagine it’s a goodbye letter meant for his best friend. Something the two of you shouldn't be reading. 

She seems to understand this, her eyes falling to the note again, and the reality of the situation hits both her and you at the same time. Jasper is gone, dead before Praimfaya even arrived. Tears start to well up in your eyes and your twin’s eyes, everything hitting you all at once. Most of your friends are in space, without you. Your mom and the rest of your people are in a bunker in the ground, unreachable, while the two of you are here, on the surface, alone. No food, no water, no home, no people, nothing left. You and Clarke start to cry, loud, shoulder shaking sobs, overcome with grief and loss. You hold each other in your arms, the last two people on earth, left behind by everyone you love to tough out a world destroyed by Praimfaya.

-

You wake early, before Clarke does, and you grab the radio, along with a satellite dish she found yesterday while scavenging. You step out into the early morning and set everything up on the hood of the rover before climbing up beside it, setting the radio to channel two, your eyes lifting to the sky. “Hey, Bell.”

You release the button and wait, fully aware that no one will answer, but you do it anyways. After a minute with no response, you sigh and continue, “Bad news, Clarke and I didn't make it into the bunker. Everything collapsed around us, burying the door even deeper. The hard truth is, we could dig for years and never reach that door. I really let myself believe we’d live down there and everything would be okay. Instead, we’re stuck on the surface of a desolate planet, now without food and water. If we don't find some soon, I don't think we’re gonna-”

You cut yourself off, unable to say the words, unable to voice your fear. That all the bullshit you’ve gone through in the last few weeks was for nothing. Instead you shake your head, clear out your dark thoughts, and look around at your former home. “We came to Arkadia looking for supplies, but all we found were ghosts. Looking around at it now, it’s like we were never here. You’d never know over 400 people lived here and called this place home. Settled down, got comfortable, made a life. And now, only 100 of them remain, stuffed into a bunker in the ground as the rest were left outside to die.”

You stop yourself again, unsurprised to find yourself veering back into the darker categories. The truth of your situation is heavy, reminding you that you and Clarke won't survive long without water. “I doubt you can hear me on this piece of crap radio, but in case this is the last time I get to do this, I just want to say...please don't feel bad about leaving us here. You did what you had to do, Bellamy, and I'm proud of you.”

You hear the door to the rover creak open, and a moment later Clarke hops out of the back, and walks over to you, peering up at you. “You ready to go?”

You nod and she heads to the driver’s side. You lift the radio, eyes on the sky, and smile. “I love you more than the stars, Bellamy Blake. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You cut the radio off and grab it and the satellite, placing them both in the back carefully before jumping into the front beside Clarke. She looks over at you with a smile, “Where to?”

“Wherever the road takes us.”

She nods and peers out at Arkadia one last time before turning on the rover and pulling away, taking you away from your former home.

-

Clarke decides to lead the two of you deeper into Trikru territory, deeper into the former forest, in the hopes that somehow, somewhere, a food and water source survived. You hook up Maya’s ipod and turn on some music as you roll down the windows and let yourself enjoy the ride, neither of you wanting to think about what will happen if you find nothing. At some point, the sandy landscape gives way to charred terrain, giving you both a little hope that maybe you’ll find something soon. Eventually the flat land turns into hills, covered in charred trees, and you and Clarke exchange a look because, for once, the landscape hasn't been leveled. 

You both continue the ride in silence, listening to Maya’s music, watching as Clarke weaves through the trees along the carved out path. You ride for most of the day until she checks the gauges on the dash and sighs. “We’re nearly out of power.”

The path she’s been driving on is slowly taking you higher, and you muse, “Maybe there will be a good place to stop near the top.”

She nods, continuing higher, and sure enough, the path levels out to a little clearing, situated along the edge of a cliff. Clarke parks the rover in the clearing, right underneath the sun, and you both hop out and walk near the cliff’s edge, looking out at the landscape below. Just like everything else, it’s barren and useless. Still, the two of you remain there for a while, in companionable silence, until you nod towards the rover. “We should get some rest while it charges, that way we can keep driving once it gets late.”

“Good idea.”

Both of you head back to the rover and get into the back, stretching out the best you can in the small space and laying down to sleep. Clarke is out in minutes, the dream world taking her easily, but as you expected, you’re not as lucky. Instead, you lay in the back, staring at the roof of the rover, trying to imagine what Bellamy is doing right now. Maybe he’s learning Trigedasleng from Emori, or maybe Echo is teaching him how to fight. Maybe he’s eating a small MRE ration and sitting at one of the viewing windows, staring down at the Earth, thinking about you. As your thoughts start to wander even more, a low rumble in the distance pulls you right out of your head and into the present. Your brows pull together, listening, hoping, and seconds later another low rumble echoes in the sky. 

Thunder.

You sit up, shaking Clarke awake as you do, “Clarke, get up.”

She sits up suddenly, hand reaching for her knife, prepared for any threat. “What is it?”

“Nothing like that.” You swing open the door and jump outside, reaching back in to grab your twin and tug her out behind you. As you both stand outside near the rover, you hear another roll of thunder, and Clarke looks at you with a smile. It only takes another minute for the storm to roll in, pelting you both with cool rain, and you smile and look up at the sky, sending your thanks to the Universe. “Thank you.”

Clarke grabs the canteens from inside the rover, along with a few pieces of your scavenged materials, and the two of you rig up a trough to drain into the canteens. As soon as there’s a mouthful of water inside the bottles, you each grab them and drink it greedily, desperately thirsty considering you’ve been rationing your water too. You and Clarke stay out in the rain, filling up whatever you can with water, accepting each drip of the life source with appreciation. By the time the rain has stopped, you’re both soaked to the bone, but you’re too happy to care. Most of your water containers are filled to the top, and you and Clarke are safe from dehydration, at least for a little while. 

-

Not long after the rain storm, you take over driving, continuing down the winding path in search of supplies. The windows are down and the music is on, a driving routine starting to be established, and you are chatting with your twin about all the things you wish you could eat this very moment. For some reason, talking about food while you’re starving is actually helpful, both of you describing your favorite things in detail, distracting yourselves from the hunger that gnaws at your insides. As Clarke is telling you about the best Ark apple pie that she’s ever had, something hits your windshield with a light thud. Your eyes cut over to it, landing on a large bug, and without knowing why, you slam on the brakes. 

You and Clarke exit the rover and stand near the bug, both of you staring at it and then at each other, wondering if you dare to do it. You scoop the bug off the glass, handing half of it to Clarke, and you both watch each other for a long second before she whispers, “We haven’t eaten in days. We have to do this.”

You nod, looking at the bug with a grimace. “Stronger together.”

And then you both drop the bug into your mouths, chewing and swallowing quickly before the taste can reach your tastebuds. It’s as disgusting as you expect it to be, but you can easily convince yourself that you don't care considering the hunger that grips you. Clarke notices a few more bugs along the grille of the rover, and the two of you share them, scoping them off the vehicle and eating them quickly, hoping that your body keeps them down long enough to digest them and give you strength. As the two of you stand there eating, you hear a rumble of thunder and you look towards it, your eyes falling on a fast approaching cloud, charged and electric, heading right towards you. It’s just like the one you saw in the dead zone, thick and dry, full of sand, crackling with danger. You and Clarke both scramble into the rover and roll up the windows just as the cloud overtakes you, shaking the rover with it’s ferocity. 

You look over at Clarke, about to make a joke about the bugs and the sand, until you see the look of horror on her face. “What? What is it?”

“The solar panels.”

That’s all she has to say to get both of you moving again, grabbing scarves to wrap around your faces before she hands you Jasper’s goggles, and you pull them on. Both of you hop out again, and you are instantly met with a lungful of sand as you breathe in, drying out your mouth and throat. You cough against it, trying to ignore the sand that bites at the exposed parts of your body as you pull off the closest solar panel, but the heavy winds yank it straight from your hands, sending it flying away from you. You abandon the mission and get back inside, surprised to find Clarke already in the passenger seat, flushing out her eyes. She hears you close the door and mutters, “Too much sand, nearly blinded me.”

You cough again, trying to clear the sand from your throat. “The wind blew the panel right out of my hands.”

She looks up at you, water dripping down her face, pissed. “Damn it!”

You pull off the scarf and the goggles and toss them into the back, before settling into the seat, just as annoyed. “Nothing we can do now except wait for it to pass. We can't see a thing right now, we’ll just have to hope for the best.”

-

And hope you do. 

It’s only an hour or so before the sandstorm moves past you, leaving behind an eerie calm in its wake, but each passing minute feels like an hour as you wait to assess the damage. As soon as it’s clear, you try to crank the rover, sighing when the engine won't turn over. Clarke mutters, “Try again.”

You try a few more times, each attempt unsuccessful, before you step out of the rover and look at the panels. Each solar panel you appraise is broken and cracked, half hanging off the rover, clearly beyond repair. You and Clarke let out a huff of frustration before heading to the back of the rover and grabbing your packs, pulling out the map to mark the location of the rover. Clarke traces the rover point to Alie’s Solar Fields, both of you aware that there are plenty of solar panels there to replace the ones on the rover. Your twin looks over at you, gauging your reaction, and you nod in agreement with the unspoken plan, knowing the vehicle is the best thing you’ve got. She folds the map back up and stuffs it into her pack before the two of you head off in the direction of the fields, hopeful and determined.

-

You have no idea how long you've been walking, but the sand that stretches around you seems endless. Each time you reach a new peak, a new hill, you think: this is it, the solar field is right on the other side. But then you peer out at the landscape and see nothing but empty sand and disappointment. The sun is merciless in the dead zone, beating down on you and Clarke, leaving you hot, tired, and dehydrated. You’re sparing with your water, unsure how long it’ll be before you can get more, but the canteen hangs from your pack taunting you, sloshing around the last few drops of water gifted to you by the sky.

Slowly, your walking turns to trudging, and then turns to a slow drag, both of you so exhausted that your steps are heavy and barely lift from the sand. Clarke is the first to fall, and you drop your pack and move towards her, pulling off her pack and scarf, trying to get airflow to her face. Her skin is dry and cracking, her lips are peeling, and she is weak, barely holding on. You grab your canteen from your pack and pull your twin into your lap, pouring the last few drops of water that you have into her mouth and down her throat. She swallows greedily, and whispers, “More.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, but nothing falls, too dehydrated to cry. “That’s all I have, Clarke.”

You grab her canteen and check inside, hers just as empty as yours, and you dig through both of your backpacks looking for anything to give her, your heart breaking when you find nothing. Clarke’s breathing deepens, and you’re sure she passed out, leaving you alone to sit in the sand and watch over her, hoping nothing happens. You must doze off or pass out, because you wake up on the sand, a throbbing pain in your hand. When you look that way, you see a bird pecking at you, and you shift away, letting out a surprised scream. 

Clarke shifts in your lap, scared awake by the sound, and both of you stare at the bird until she suddenly scrambles towards it. “Take us to your home!”

The bird takes flight and you and Clarke turn after it, watching it disappear over a large sand dune. You scramble up the dune, still feeling weak, but your adrenaline carries you the best it can, your body buzzing at the prospect of what you’ll find when you reach the top. You and Clarke make it at the same time, staring out into a sandy, barren landscape, much like the one you were already in. No sign of food or water, just a long stretch of disappointment and crushed hope. You turn towards Clarke to check on her but you lose your balance on the small hill, and you fall and tumble your way back to the bottom, taking a beating as you do. When you roll over and pull yourself to your knees, you let out a broken scream, tired of all the bullshit you and Clarke have dealt with since Praimfaya. 

Clarke makes it down the hill and drops to her knees in front of you, and you can feel yourself giving up as you look at her, tears welling up in your eyes again. “I’m done, Clarke, I can't do this anymore. We’ve lost our friends, our parents. I lost Bellamy. And I just...can't keep doing this, I can't keep fighting.”

You’re fully prepared to hear her argue and fight you on your words, but she surprises you by slumping a little, just as defeated, and pulling her gun out of the holster at her thigh. She holds it in her hands, looking it over, before glancing up at you. “If we do it, we do it together.”

You pull your knife out, the only weapon you have, the Grounder knife that’s been with you since almost the beginning. The same knife that has taken countless lives by your hand, and now, it’s going to take yours. You lift the knife to your throat as Clarke lifts the gun to her temple, both of you watching each other as you do. Azrael and Azazel, Wanheda and Wanlida, the twins, are done. You have given up, exhausted by your life and existence, unable to handle anymore curveballs from the Universe. 

Your mind flashes to Bellamy and you see Clarke’s finger drop to the trigger. You grip the handle of the knife tighter, pressing it into your skin a little as you reminisce on all the good things in your life one last time. Your father, your mother, your twin, and Bellamy Blake, keeper of your heart, love of your life. You close your eyes and whisper, “Oso gonplei ste odon.”

And just as you’re about to move the knife, you hear a bird screech above you.

Your eyes fly open and immediately search the skies, the bird from before now circling overhead. Clarke sees it too because she puts her hand over yours and pulls the knife away from your neck as she lowers her gun. “It’s not over. Not yet.”

Both of you scramble to your feet and follow the bird, which circles once and then flies in a new direction, one you haven’t explored yet. You and Clarke run through the sand as fast as you can, trying to keep up. This time when you crest the surface of the hill, you are met with lush, green trees as far as the eye can see. It’s a stark contrast from the sand at your backs, but it’s a welcome sight. You and Clarke let out laughs of relief, turning to hug each other as tears spring to your eyes, this time for a completely different reason. Because now, you have hope.

Clarke pulls away and looks at the bird, a vulture, which has landed on a tree nearby. “Thank you.”

And then she follows her thanks by lifting her gun and shooting it, securing your dinner for the night. As she goes to get the bird, you run back and grab your packs, stumbling back up the hill just in time to meet her. Clarke takes her pack and pulls it on before using some string to tie the bird to the strap, securing it at her side. You head down the hill, towards the lush, green forest, practically running towards it with excitement. As soon as you make it into the woods, Clarke finds a place to camp, and turns to you. “See if you can find some water.”

You drop your pack, grab the canteens, and run off, careful to keep Clarke in view as you search for water. It doesn't take you long to find a small creek, and you come back with two full canteens, welcomed by the sight of the vulture, spit roasted over a fire. Clarke takes her canteen from you with thanks, drinking the liquid down with appreciation. And soon, the two of you are nestled between a pair of trees, chowing down on vulture meat and water. It’s the best you’ve felt in weeks, surrounded by trees, and water, and food, and hope, and you send a silent thank you to the Universe for providing for you once more. 

Later that night, Clarke falls asleep and you pull out your radio and satellite dish, setting yourself up on a small boulder in a clearing that gives you a good view of the moon and stars. You smile up at them, tracing constellations as you flip on the radio. “Hey Bellamy, it’s been 49 days since Praimfaya, and I thought today was going to be it for me. Things got...bad today. Dark. It’s hard to see the light when the people that bring it to you are gone. Being separated from everyone except Clarke, it's hard. Even still, I'm thankful to have her, because I could never do this alone. I have good news though; we found food, and water, and life. Green trees and grass, bugs, animals. Maybe I can build a life here, and when you come down, we can enjoy it together. A peaceful life, with no more fighting, no more war, no more killing. Animals don't feel guilty when they kill. They just do it, because it’s kill, or be killed. In a way, I think that’s what we’ve been doing since we got down here, kill or be killed. The Grounders, the Mountain Men, Alie, they all threatened us in some way or another so we threatened them back. But maybe, to them, we threatened first and then they threatened back. We all had our reasons. At the end of the day, I guess it doesn't matter anymore, because there’s no one left to kill now. Wanlida, the bringer of Death, is done. The question is, who am I now?”

You lower the radio, still looking at the stars, when you see a streak of light fly overhead, so fast you almost miss it. 

A shooting star.

You lift the radio again, smiling as you do. “Did you send that to me? Even if you didn’t, I get one wish, and I’m using it on you. I wish you’ll come back to me, Bellamy. I wish I could see you, hug you, kiss you. If you come back, everything will be okay again, everything will be right. I’ll be counting down the days, my love.”

-

When you wake the next day, you and Clarke set out to explore, looking for a better place to make a permanent camp. You follow the stream for a while, hoping it will lead you to something better, and the small rush of water doesn't disappoint. Within a few hours you find a body of water, a waterfall rushing into it. You and Clarke grin when you see it, before you both take off running towards it, dropping your things along the bank. You strip down to your undergarments and jump in, relishing the feel of the cool water on your dry skin. 

You and Clarke swim for hours, letting the water refresh you and clean you, pushing the nightmare of the desert out of your mind. Eventually you pull yourselves up onto the rocks and let the sun dry you, both of you sitting and basking in the warm glow from the sun, nowhere near as harsh as the desert when it filters through the trees. Eventually you both get dressed and head out again, following a few trails in search of something better, and it's not long before you stumble upon it.

As you come around the bend of the trail, you see a sign up ahead, wooden and sturdy, printed with the words, “Welcome to the town of Shenandoah.”

Over the writing is a familiar symbol, three arrows moving through a perfect circle, and Clarke brushes her fingers over it and whispers, “Louwoda Kliron Kru.”

“Shadow Valley clan."

You and Clarke exchange a look before walking past the sign, following the path as it opens up into a small village. The first thought you have is that it’s beautiful. Bright and colorful, with ribbons hanging from the trees and decorations scattered throughout. There are small buildings in the village, mostly little forts and picnic tables with awnings, but in the center is a small church, somehow still standing. As you get closer to the building, you can see a young boy on the porch out front, face bloody, clearly dead from the radiation. 

You walk past the boy and slowly push open the door, worried about what you’ll find, and as soon as you do, you’re hit with an awful smell, one that you’re sure is the scent of decomposing bodies. You gag, instantly covering your nose and mouth with your hand, muffling the smell, and you see Clarke do the same, clearly trying to block it out. When you step inside, your suspicions are confirmed, as maybe 50 people are gathered inside, all dead. You look at Clarke, noting the sadness in her eyes, and you whisper, “Grounders burn their dead.”

She nods, already pulling off her pack, and the two of you spend the next few hours clearing the bodies from the village, stripping them of most their clothes and shoes, knowing the resources will be helpful for those in the bunker when they get out. At nightfall, you burn the bodies in the center of the village, watching the flames take the people of Shallow Valley away, reducing them to ash. “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

That night you both sleep in the grass, most of the buildings still too fragrant to sleep in. For the next few days, you and Clarke fix up the village, cleaning it and washing the clothes, searching for food and deciding where to set up camp. Eventually you decide on the building at the center, the church, neither of you wanting to sleep too far from each other at night. And each night you call Bellamy before you fall asleep, recounting the events of the day to him.

One day when you’re hanging up the next batch of clothes to dry, Clarke comes back from a hunt, bursting with excitement, running over to show you a bundle of berries carried in her shirt, bright and beautiful. The two of you wolf them down before making plans to pick more as soon as you can.

-

Clarke wakes you up early, eager to spend the morning picking berries, and the trip turns out to be a successful one. You come back with about six bowls of berries, with plenty still left in the field for later. Clarke spreads the bowls out on the table, along with her sketchpad and your radio, before she points to the chairs. “We’ve been working hard. Today, we feast.”

The two of you eat berry after berry, and Clarke uses some to paint in her sketchpad, crafting your likeness out of berry juice. You sit across from her, watching, before you finally pick up the radio and flip it on. “Hey, Bell.”

You wait for an answer as usual, but of course, none comes. Still, the disappointment can't reach you today, easily overshadowed by the excitement of the last few days. “The village is coming along great, I can't wait until you can see it. Clarke and I are pretty much finished now. We’ve cleaned all the other buildings and they're ready to be filled with our friends and family. Right now, Clarke and I are sharing a place, but once you get here, we’ll move into a little house of our own. I think I have the perfect one in mind. I found it three days ago when I was checking for supplies, and I'm thinking whoever lived there liked the sky as much as I do. There’s a hole cut into the ceiling, replaced by a thin piece of plastic, sealed tight against the elements. The house sits in a small space between a few trees, and the view to the sky is unobstructed. During the day, the sun tracks over the building, keeping it bright and airy. At night, you can see the moon and count the stars. It’s perfect for us.”

You pop a few berries into your mouth, and glance over at Clarke’s drawing. She looks up at you, smiling, and you smile back, happier than you’ve been in a while. “It's been 58 days, which means that by now, Monty should have the algae farm producing. How bad does it suck? No offense, Monty. We found berries, a whole field of them. They're not very sweet, but they're still delicious, some of the best I’ve ever tasted. They’re beautiful, too. Clarke’s using them to-”

You cut yourself off when you see movement from the corner of your eye, and when you look that way, you see a small child in the field nearby, staring at you and Clarke. You freeze, and Clarke looks up at you, sensing the change, and you whisper, “Someone’s here.”

She turns, and the movement must spook the kid because they turn and take off, tearing through the woods. You and Clarke stand, already running after them, yelling, “Wait, stop, it’s okay!”

Clarke leads the way, following the path the child takes, weaving through the woods and away from the camp. She yells after her in English, but the kid never slows down or stops, so you call out to Clarke, “Try Trigedasleng!”

Clarke switches languages and yells out to the elusive child, “Beja! Osir jos gaf in chich yu op!”

Please! We just want to talk to you! You follow Clarke down a small hill and then through a path, jogging deeper into the woods until your twin suddenly freezes in place. You stop behind her, catching a glimpse of the small child, who is half hidden in the bushes, watching you both. Clarke lifts her hands in surrender and you follow suit as she drops her voice into a comforting tone. “Yu laik Natblida, sha?”

You’re a Nightblood, right? The child slips from the bushes and moves into the clearing, and as you watch her, you realize now that they’re a girl. It’s hard to tell from the mud caked on her face and her wild, unruly hair, but now that she’s standing still and watching the two of you, you’re able to get a better look. Clarke takes her stillness as an invitation to move closer, her hands still lifted in surrender. She takes a few steps, and you start to give her a whispered warning when chaos erupts. “Clarke-”

The rest of your warning is cut off by Clarke’s pained scream, and you have a second to register her foot caught in a bear trap before the wild little girl runs at you, a knife in her hand, screaming, “Slip daun, Fleimkepa!”

Die, Flamekeeper! Though she’s small, she catches you off guard, your focus locked onto your screaming twin, and the girl manages to knock you to the ground and scramble on top of you, bringing the knife down towards you. You lift your hands to shield your face, just in time too, because her blade catches your left forearm, right over your freshly healed Praimfaya injury, and you let out a scream. She stares at the blade, now covered in your Nightblood, and she backs away from you and whispers, “Natblida.”

She turns and runs off before you can say or do anything else, but you don't have time to process the interaction because Clarke is still screaming from beside you. You scramble over to her and try to pry open the trap, but it’s too strong, and she gasps out, “Find a branch for leverage!”

You jog off in search of something sturdy enough to pry open the trap, nearly jumping with excitement when you find a branch nearby. You run back to Clarke and wiggle it into the trap before using it to pry it open all the way, freeing her foot. As soon as she’s free, you drop the stick and grab her, putting her arm around you to help half carry, half support her back to camp. She’s fighting back tears the entire time, grunting with each step that sends a shockwave through her leg. You finally reach the village and you make a beeline for the church you’ve been living in, and you lean her against the bar as she points across the room to her pack. “My medkit is over there!”

You run over and grab it as she pulls herself up onto the bar, tugging her pants up to inspect the wound. She gets woozy as soon as she gets a look, something you’ve never seen her do with a wound before, but considering how bad it is, you can’t blame her. The trap cut her deep, and if you don’t work fast, she’ll easily run the risk of bleeding out. You pull out her medkit and grab a tourniquet, quickly tying it off before grabbing the supplies for the stitches and threading the needle. You hover over the injury, looking up at your twin, nearly shaking with pain. “Do we have anything for the pain?”

“No, but if you don’t stitch this, I won't make it.”

You sigh and look down at the cut. “Here we go.”

You press the needle through her skin and start stitching the wounds, and Clarke holds back her cries of pain as long as she can manage before eventually passing out. You finish stitching the wound and bandage it before removing the tourniquet, and then you pull up your sleeve to check on your own arm. The cut is deep enough to need a few stitches so you patch up yourself, taking a second to admire the slight improvement you've had in the stitches department. Once you finish, you pull up a chair and decide to sit and watch over Clarke, not sure if the girl is going to come back and attack again.

Luckily, the night is uneventful, and you manage to catch a few hours of sleep before Clarke wakes you up, already limping her way to her pack and sketchpad before your eyes are fully open. “We’re going to the river.”

You give her a look, wondering if she's lost her mind. “With the child from hell still out there and roaming around?”

She gives you a scolding look. “She’s scared.”

You point to her injured leg and your stitched up arm. “Yeah, that makes two of us.”

But she gives you another look, the “I’m the older twin by two minutes look”, and you know she’s not going to let this go until you give in. So you sigh and roll your eyes before you help her down to the river, both of you approaching quietly when you see the small girl standing in the water, spearing fish like a pro. You’re impressed, and so is Clarke, because she calls out, “Yu na tich ai op hashta daun?”

Can you teach me that? The girl spins around, surprised to see you, before she takes off running again, her fish and spear in hand. You and Clarke call after her, trying to convince her you’re not a threat, but she disappears into the trees, leaving you alone. Clarke plops down onto one of the boulders near the water’s edge and tugs off her sock and boot before dipping her injured ankle into the water, cleaning her wound. You eventually strip to your undergarments and take a swim, wading around in the cool water and forcing the girl from your mind before you climb up onto the boulders beside Clarke to dry off. She sits in the sun beside you, sketching a picture of the girl, and when you eventually stand to pull your clothes on, you catch a glimpse of the wild child. You whisper to Clarke as you lace up your boots, “She’s here, hiding in the trees.”

Clarke nods once, not wanting to alert her that you both know she’s there, before she places a rock onto the picture and holds her hand out to you, asking for your help. You pull her to her feet and you both make your way back to camp slowly, hoping that eventually the girl will come around. 

Luckily, she does, and by nightfall she’s back at your camp, a fish in hand, offering it to you as a show of peace. You accept it with thanks, and Clarke gestures between the two of you, introducing you both. The girl hesitates for a moment, watching you both closely before she gives you the smallest of smiles. 

“Ai tagon Madi.”

My name is Madi. You and Clarke exchange a smile, and just like that, a new family is created.

-

6 years later

You turn and hang the wet clothes you just washed up on the line, a slight breeze rolling over you and cooling you off. You smile at the feel of it, always thankful to be reminded of the joys of living out in the open, in this small valley of green that you all call home. You turn when you hear a sound behind you, smiling at your approaching twin, three fish in her hand. “Nice catch.”

“Thanks.” She starts to say something else, but stops when you both hear the sound of the rover approaching, signaling another arrival. Madi jumps out of the front and runs over to the two of you, face split into a grin, her hand wrapped tight around something you can't see. She’s older than the first time you met her, her face clean from mud, her hair better kept now that Clarke is involved. It’s braided to the side, most of it kept out of her face as she has fun and gets into trouble everyday. 

“Hey, wash up. It’s time for supper.” You walk over to Clarke as Madi draws closer, holding out her hand to show you a few berries, completely ignoring what Clarke just said. “Look, the berries are ripe.”

Clarke nods, “That's nice. Come on, I caught, you cook.”

“Clarke, you promised. Last season, there weren't enough, but this year, they're everywhere.” You know instantly what she’s talking about. Inspired by Clarke’s first few months as Wanheda where she wandered the Earth with bright red, berry dyed hair, Madi wants berry dyed streaks in her own dark hair. “Please? I'll cook for a week and clean up.”

Clarke, always eager to get out of the cooking, looks down at her with a smirk. “Two weeks.”

Madi’s face instantly splits into a grin, “Deal. Come on, I'll drive.”

Madi takes off running towards the rover and Clarke walks behind her, pausing when you don't follow. She turns to look at you, sensing your hesitation about crashing the seemingly mother daughter excursion, and she asks, “Coming?”

You don't get the chance to answer, because Madi pops her head out of the rover and yells, “Come on, Ani and Clarke, it’ll be dark soon!”

You smile at the nickname, always happy to hear Madi refer to you as her aunt, reinforcing the idea that you’re just as much of a family member to her as Clarke is. Sometimes doubt and insecurity creep in, because Clarke and Madi bonded so fast, quickly forming a mother daughter style relationship without even trying. Your relationship with Madi formed quickly afterwards, but it was never the same one that she had with Clarke, leaving you more on the sidelines at times. In the last few years she has taken to calling you her aunt, a role you happily accepted, as it allows you to be the fun one while Clarke has to be the adult. You can't count how many times you and Madi have gotten into trouble and Clarke has had to come along and scold the two of you.

You and Clarke run to the rover and hop inside, and the three of you spend the next few hours picking berries before heading back to the camp. Madi prepares the dinner while you and Clarke get the berries ready, and then the three of you quickly eat before settling down in front of the fire and forming a little chain of people. You sit at the back, dying red streaks into Clarke’s short blonde hair, while Clarke sits in the middle, working on Madi’s hair, and Madi sits at the front, skimming through Clarke’s sketchbook. She pauses on a sketch of Octavia at the Final Conclave, warpaint sketched onto her skin, and Madi tries to look back at Clarke in bewilderment. “Ha yu na vout in em nou na win au?”

How could you not think she would win? You translate the words easily, Trigedasleng now a second nature to you given how much practice you got with it while raising Madi and teaching her English. Still, Clarke scolds her when she uses the language, clearly more comfortable with it times than she is with English. “English, Madi.”

“I'm just saying, Skairipa's a beast. Of course she'd win the Conclave.”

You finish with Clarke’s hair and slide onto the log nearby, putting you in a better position to see the sketchpad in Madi’s lap. She now has it flipped to a picture of the rocket, flying into the sky, leaving you and Clarke behind. You stare at it sadly, feeling a sharp pang in your heart from the loss of Bellamy, still separated from him after all this time. Clarke finishes up on Madi’s hair, and the young girl turns to glance between you both. “I'm sorry they left without you.”

Clarke glances down at the picture, and gives Madi a smile. “Well, I'm not. Because if I was with them, I never would have met you.”

Madi grins at her before settling her head into Clarke’s lap, and Clarke leans back against your legs, all three of you connected as you look up at the sky, tracing the stars. Madi touches the necklace around her neck, a silver sun hanging from a chain, and the gesture causes you to touch the moon hanging around your own neck, checking that it’s still there. As you think of the moon and of Bellamy hiding out amongst the stars, you muse, “Do you think they'll come back?”

Madi is the first to answer, always eager to spread light and positivity, the perfect embodiment of the sun. “Definitely. Bellamy will do anything to get back to you.”

You smile down at her, grateful for her words, and she smiles back, before you both turn your eyes back to the sky. You’re thankful for your little family and the life you've built here, but it’s hard not to miss him, and to want him here with you. Instead, you have to remain on the ground longing for him, wishing that he would have taken you into the stars with him. 

-

You and Clarke are up early the next morning, and she starts packing up the rover before the sun even rises. “I want to go to the cliff’s edge, see if we can find more things to dry and save for winter.”

You nod, already reaching for your radio and satellite, “I’ll go with you, there’s a lot better chance they’ll hear me if I’m up there.”

“I’ll go wake Madi then.”

“She’s not gonna be happy about that.”

Clarke shrugs, already walking over to the sleeping girl. “She can sleep in the rover.”

You grab your pack and strap on your knife before heading to put your things in the rover, smiling at Madi as she grumbles at Clarke. An hour later the three of you are on the edge of the cliff, and Clarke wanders off almost immediately, the sole walkie talkie in her hand. You drag the radio and the satellite to the edge of the cliff before settling into the grass, leaving Madi in the back of the rover to continue sleeping. You flip the radio on, and look up at the sky as you begin, “Bellamy, I don't know if you can hear me, but it’s been 2,199 days since Praimfaya. I don't know why I still do this everyday. Maybe it's my way of staying sane, not forgetting who I am…”

You trail off, still not sure who you are. You used to be Wanlida, Bringer of Death, someone who killed without thought or hesitation. Now, you’ve haven't killed anyone in 6 years. So are you still the Bringer of Death, are you still a killer? Does 6 years of changed behavior erase the sins of your past? You shake your head, still unsure, but you amend your statement nonetheless. “Who I was.”

You sigh and look around at the green that stretches out from the valley. Your eyes find the sky again, wishing you could see the Ark, wishing you could see Bellamy. “It's been safe for you to come down for over a year now. Why haven't you? The bunker's gone silent, too. We tried digging them out for a while, but there was too much rubble. We haven't made contact with them, either.”

You shake away the sadness that comes every time you think of the bunker, of your mother, Kane, Octavia, the others, all buried beneath the Earth, unable to get out. “Anyway, I still have hope...tell Raven to aim for the one spot of green, and you'll find us. The rest of the planet, from what we’ve seen, basically sucks, so-”

You cut yourself off when you hear a sonic boom, and your eyes scan the sky until you see a small ship enter the atmosphere. You stand, looking at it in shock, a grin splitting your face, “Nevermind. I see you.”

Excitement takes over every cell of your body, leaving you practically buzzing, and you flip over to the station for the walkie just in time to hear Clarke say, “What was that? I’m coming back!”

“It’s a ship!”

“A ship?”

“Yes!”

You can hear her running back towards you, her voice coming out in between pants, “Bellamy?”

“I think so!”

You run back to the rover and shake Madi awake, and she rolls over with a groan. “No lessons today.”

“We have visitors.”

She sits up in a flash, ears perking up at the sound of the approaching ship. She clambers out of the back and to the cliff’s edge as you put the radio in the back, and a second later you hear Madi yell back, “I thought you said the ship was small.”

Something about her question lifts the hairs on the back of your neck, and alarm bells go off in your head. You run over to her as you hear Clarke approach from behind, and Clarke kneels down beside you, holding up her rifle to peer through the scope. “It’s not them.”

You turn towards her in alarm, “What?”

She passes you the rifle so you can get a look, but Madi, who heard none of your exchange, starts to jump up and down, calling out to the approaching transport, “We’re here, we’re here!”

Clarke pulls her down, shushing her. “Stop, get down! I want you to back up the rover. Get it out of sight and load the guns.”

You peer through the scope of the rifle, reading the writing on the side. Gagarin Prisoner transport. Your stomach sinks, suddenly understanding Clarke’s fear. You look over at your twin, and she nods her head back towards the now hidden rover, her jaw set. “We have to go figure this out.”

You follow her back to the vehicle, jumping in the back as she jumps into the driver's seat. Madi sits in the passenger seat, looking between the two of you in fear as you check the weapons in the back, making sure they’re loaded, and Clarke flies through the woods, driving as fast as she can. “Who are they? Why are you both so scared?”

Clarke glances at her and then back at the road ahead. “I will not let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”

“Well, maybe they’re friendly.” You think about all the possibly friendly people you’ve met since being on the ground, and anxiety runs through you. The Grounders, the Mountain Men, Pike. Clarke must be thinking the same thing, because she deadpans, “Maybe. But until we figure this out, I want you to hide in your secret spot.”

“No! Clarke-”

Clarke cuts her off immediately, clearly in a no nonsense mood. “This is not up for discussion, Madi. The Flamekeeper scouts never found you there. Neither will they. Promise me you’ll stay in the hole.”

“What about you and ani?”

“We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

She pulls up at the edge of the village, before turning in her seat to face Madi. You hand Clarke a pistol, one from your small armory, and Clarke passes it to Madi. “If you shoot, they will hear you.”

“I’ll make sure it’s my only choice.”

Clarke nods and then motions Madi towards the door. “Go.”

Madi complies, jumping out of the rover and running off towards her hiding spot. You climb into the passenger seat, glancing over at your twin, catching the look of fear on her face as she watches Madi run off. You put your hand on her knee. “She’ll be okay.”

She nods, tucking away her emotions before she pulls away again, turning the rover back in the direction of the transport, moving fast. She gets the two of you to a lookout spot just in time, both of you peering through the scopes of your rifles to watch the doors of the transport open, and a person in a radiation suit walking down the ramp, checking to make sure it’s safe. Once they confirm it is, they pull off their helmet, revealing a woman. She takes a deep breath of air before calling back to the transport. Seconds later people come filing out of the ship, all carrying guns, all looking terrifyingly menacing. You and Clarke pull back to exchange a worried look before peering through the scope again, continuing your watch. 

Their weapons are different from yours, larger, more mechanical, and possibly more destructive. You and Clarke watch as the prisoners split into groups and start to check the land nearby, and eventually she leads you back to the rover in silence. She takes you to the cave where she and Roan discussed splitting the Ark, the same place Echo nearly slit your throat, and the two of you prep in silence for what may be another war. The person you thought you buried, the killer, the monster, rises to the surface again, prepared to defend your family and the life you’ve made. Clarke sketches their weapons from memory, both of you discussing and trying to figure out what they are and what they do, while you count bullets and inventory what you have in terms of weaponry. The numbers are grim, especially when they’re compared to the numbers of the prisoners and their weapons, but you don't let yourself focus on that. Instead, you try to remember what it’s like to take a life, wondering if you’re even still capable of doing it. You turn to Clarke, about to ask her the same question you’re mulling over, when you hear a gunshot ring out nearby. You and Clarke exchange a look, instantly knowing that it means Madi’s in trouble. Clarke grabs her rifle and you grab your pistol and both of you take off running back to the village, moving through the woods as fast as you can. 

As you get closer, you get a glimpse of Madi through the trees, on the ground at the feet of two prisoners. One of them is holding a gun at her, and Clarke drops to her knees to take aim with her rifle. You whisper, “I’m gonna get closer.”

She nods in acknowledgement and you take off running again, careful to keep out of Clarke’s line of sight. As you come over the edge of the hill, you hear Clarke’s gun go off, hitting the man near Madi in the shoulder. He falls away from her, dropping the gun, and you dive over the hill and head for the other man who’s standing and watching. You knock the two of you to the ground, both of you rolling away from Madi, and you recover faster than he does, scrambling to your feet. You swing a punch at him but he catches it before rising to his full height, towering over you. You twist out of his grip and he swings his gun at you, hitting you in the ribs, knocking you down. He starts to turn the weapon towards you but Clarke appears seconds later and swings her rifle at him, hitting him in the back of the head. He falls to the ground just as you see the other prisoner start to rise to his feet again. 

You jump up and run over to him, swinging a punch his way, landing a hit on his jaw. You follow it up with a hit to his adam’s apple, and he grabs his neck, choking a little. You look around for your pistol, knocked out of your hands earlier, and the prisoner recovers faster than you expected, reaching out to wrap his hands around your neck. He lifts you off the ground, your feet flailing, and you swing out and kick him between the legs. He drops you as he falls to his knees, groaning in pain, and you quickly pull your knife from your holster and slit his throat without a second thought. Blood pours from the wound and he clutches at it before falling to the ground, dead. 

You turn around and locate your pistol, grabbing it and looking towards Clarke, who is standing over the other prisoner. “Clarke, catch!”

She catches it with ease, turning it on the man, but Madi, who has been silent the entire time, calls out, “Wait! He tried to help me, I think he might be a good guy.”

Clarke glances over at Madi, and at the dead prisoner near your feet before setting her jaw and turning back to the man. “There are no good guys.”

And then without a second thought, she pulls the trigger, killing him. After 6 years of no death, no fighting, no killing, everything changes in an instant. The person you thought you left behind returns as soon as your family is threatened, and the same thing happens to Clarke. Instead of being welcomed to Earth by two twins and a child, the prisoners in your home are welcomed by Wanheda and Wanlida, the twins of death and destruction.

Just like that, the old you is back.

-

next chapter

[cherrywoes]

inferno.

𝘼𝘾𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀:

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘. 𝘈𝘚𝘊𝘐𝘈𝘕.

— a person who has no shadow.

HELL IS THE personification of human sin. Despite the various myths and unknown facts that humans exchange between each other, each faction with different or slightly changed beliefs, the truth was this: hell has no ruler, nor was it ever meant to be something to rule over. A creation of God, it was meant to punish those who followed Lucifer in his rebellion and keep the Morningstar himself imprisoned before the return of Jesus upon the Earth. Until then, the souls of mortals would linger in limbo, never in peace, but waiting for a judgement that was uncertain.

The Nameless One had no issue with leaving Lucifer to his punishment—it was his punishment, after all, one he had no part in. At least, not by any stone cold allegiance to an angel who was no less interesting than any other who had fallen into the layers of Hell for the side they had chosen. He had spent long enough in the freezing bowels of Cocytus, reliving memory after memory, pushing past feelings of envy, guilt, sadness, all of it manufactured to torture him until the next coming of Christ, where he would be released and smote down as quickly as he had been freed from his prison. He refused to sit and wallow in wrath and insufferable pride, like the once great Lucifer, and he grew weary of this repetitive cycle—the same punishments, the same hellish overseers who chained him to slabs of frigid marble and allowed frozen creatures of ice and snow to peck at his inhuman flesh until there was nothing left of him. He would renew himself, and he would be on to the next, a permanent, never ending cycle that he was determined to be rid of even if it cost him his life.

Whispers from demons who made contracts with humans reached his ears, like it did with every other ancient being locked in Cocytus. They paid them no mind, but the Nameless One listened, and listened closely, reaching for any scrap of information that might let him escape and earn his freedom once more. The demons, posing as their overseers in phases, would make deals with humans for anything—wealth, extended life, healing, wisdom—in exchange for their immortal souls. It was easy enough for them to sign them over willingly, for no demon had the power to rend souls from mortal coils as the long vanished Archangel, Azrael, did. The humans got what they wanted for a century or so and when it was time for them to pay, the demons would scoop up their souls as payment before they ever reached Edom, the Realm Between.

Over thousands of years, humanity changed. The Nameless One was not surprised when they quickly surpassed the need for making contracts with his admittedly disgusting overseers; many of them worshipped his Creator in one century and disregarded Him the next, fluctuating in rapid and interesting cycles of belief and disbelief and even going as far as to kill in His name—a sin that would earn them quite the nice place in Cocytus, if it was awful enough. The most recent event discovered a splitting, a chasm between belief and disbelief or outright hereticism.

By then, the Nameless One had grown tired of listening, tired of the aches and pains in his bones and flesh, tired of the endless amount of scars that formed on his body from divine weapons used against him. He did not recognize the immortal body given to him by God any longer. It was wrought with damage, with darkness that seeped into him over thousands of centuries of torture and anguish and pain, creating a place right alongside his angelic soul that threatened to snuff out the light of his divinity any time he wavered. The entirety of Cocytus was dyed gold from the blood of the angels who had fallen, creating a mimicry of a golden city draped with chains and occupied by demons far older than he was.

“An angel made his way out of the gate,” one of the demons overseeing his punishment told another, brandishing a cat o’ nine tails against the hard ice wall to test its strength. The knots and metal shards ripped away chunks and left ragged scratches in its wake, each individual tumbling past the Nameless One’s eyesight. “Left his angelic soul behind and climbed right out into the human world. Once he was gone, the Hounds couldn’t find him over the stench of humanity.”

“The man on high isn’t doing anything?”

The demon swung the cat o’ nine tails down across the angel’s shoulders and shoulder blades harshly. It cracked against skin and cartilage, ripping away flesh and muscle and sending blood scattering across the already gold stained walls. The Nameless One was numb to it, far too used to the pain to manage a scream, and felt another lash against the back of his legs, severing the ligament in his knee keeping him upright. He sunk to the ground and earned another lash to his head, chunks of hair and flesh leaving with every scrape of the knots and metal.

“No, ever since his incarnation died and returned he’s been absent from human life.” The demon shrugged. “No one knows why. Orders haven’t changed, though, so we’re going to be here until the second coming.”

Demons talked like humans, oddly enough, after spending enough time in the mortal world. It had started after the rise in worshippers of Lucifer—which the Nameless One found the tiniest bit funny—and they had picked up slang and little fragments of human made language since then, to the point where the Nameless One had picked it up as well and understood when they spoke with contractions and odd metaphors like ‘a cat has nine lives’. A cat did not have nine lives, but he figured the sentiment was more widely used by mortals rather than demons.

But he had his way out now—all that was left to do was separate his angelic soul from… whatever the darkness was that clung to it like a lifeline. He wasn’t sure what it was—it did not feel like anything he had ever felt before in his thousands of years being alive. Not even Lucifer felt as he did, as if there was a second entity slumbering away inside him waiting to reach up and strangle his immortal soul down into the abyss it had come from. He had no name for it, no clue as to when it had begun to fester, to rise like an insidious boil that refused to go away; but it remained, and grew every day, faster, until it was the size of his soul and growing, turning the color of oil against water.

Pain became an annoyance as the angel worked tirelessly to undo every miniscule stitch that kept his angelic soul tied to the darkness within him. The punishments, once agonizing and overpowering each time he went through them, were nothing more than nuisances. Even Lucifer, whispering to him when they changed punishments, was an irritant he couldn’t get rid of, lingering in his head even when he was gone and distracting him from his freedom.

Stories reached him of others escaping in the same way he wished to: their souls lingering behind as their physical body rose to the mortal world and climbed through the portal, never to be seen again. The silvery silhouettes of their angelic souls were immune to torture, to time, to pain; there was nothing the demons could do to them unless they had their physical bodies to bind them.

Lucifer spoke to him, before he’d tore his angelic soul from his body, while the demons were busy chasing down another angel before he could escape to the portal. “You are perhaps the only one of the original legion who still remains with me. I thank you for that, Nameless One.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.” The angel lifted his limp wing from the ground, tattered and ruined past flight; stray feathers drifted to the ground, each one darker than the last, until the final one was as black as pitch. “You might despise me one day.”

“I don’t see how that will be possible.” Lucifer sounded amused; tired, but amused. Hell got to him slowly but surely, and in pieces—where the Nameless One remained indifferent to his punishments, Lucifer allowed them to get to him, made him doubt, made him wonder. He was no longer as brilliant or commanding as he used to be; he was weak, cowed, sufficiently imprisoned in Hell. He would never escape, not as long as he thought he deserved the punishment for what he had done. “You may be my only friend left here.”

The demons returned before the Nameless One could admit to what he was about to do. It was for the best, perhaps; because when he finally tore his soul from his body, he felt the darkness stir. The demons were ready for him, as if they had known what he was about to do.

“Don’t let him escape!” One shouted, a shadowy figure dwarfed by the others who were bigger, physical, and dangerous. They were blurs as he shoved past them and clambered over them one by one, desperate to reach the golden glowing light of the portal just behind them. “If he escapes, we’re all doomed!”

The Nameless One didn’t know about that. He fought his way through the crowd, until all that was left was a slowly healing group of demons, keening in high pitched voices as their heads slowly found their way back to their severed necks. Demon blood, black and viscous, like tar, dripped off of his body and smelled harshly of brimstone, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he once would.

In a moment of weakness, or concern, that was as brief as a brush of wind, he turned to look back at the depths of Cocytus once more. There, standing chained to a frozen throne he would never own, stood Lucifer, anger and fury burning in his eyes where there once held friendliness, affection. His entire person radiated betrayal, his wings high and bristled, but the Nameless One didn’t care like he thought he would have when he imagined betraying the great Morningstar.

No, no—he felt a sense of relief, instead.

Casting a quick glance to the demons at his feet, the angel turned and walked into the portal without a second thought, fresh, clean air entering his lungs the same time a dark, evil voice spoke within his mind, a thousand voices merged into one, stopping him dead in his tracks in a field of blush red poppies, baby’s breath, and calla lilies.

Freedom… At last.

prologue | masterlist | two

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[sophi-s]

It's been a while since I last touched my Darksiders/Hollow Knight crossover thingy. It's because I'm mostly out of ideas. I tried to do Avarice but I'm kinda scared where this is gonna go from the point I got to 😂

To fill in a hole, I give you a short backstory for Moth!Azrael (with Abaddon being mentioned there, of course).

Just a head's up, Azrael is sad. Very sad.

Out of all members of the long gone moth tribe, the powerful sorcerer Azrael was the most devoted to their Goddess, the Radiance. He used to teach hatchlings her ways and spread her religion wherever he went, acting kind of as her prophet. As long as the bugs of the land that would eventually become Hallownest remained in Radiance's grasp, primitive and following the basest of instincts, all linked to their hive mind, everything seemed to be just fine. But this serenity was abruptly broken by the arrival of the Pale King.

The Wyrm granted bugs the ability to formulate thoughts and a free will of their own. Not long after this, they started to turn their backs on the Radiance, choosing this new God, pale as moonlight, a stark contrast to the sun they used to revere. Eventually, even the moths abandoned her. All of them. Except for Azrael. Of course, possessing free will meant freedom of choice. And he chose the Radiance.

At first, the Goddess hid away, deep inside her Realm of Dreams, hurt and slowly fading as her followers left and forgot her. Azrael attempted to console her, assuring her that he's, after all, still there for her and that as long as he lives, so will she.

But it wasn't long before hurt turned into bitterness and bitterness into blind rage. Radiance unleashed the Infection upon Hallownest as an act of desperation and aggression against the Pale King. To say Azrael was horrified, would've been an understatement. The Goddess he knew his whole life, one who loved him like her own son, one he loved like his own mother (to some extent, she was his mother), transformed from the soft sunlight he trusted into a twisted monster blinded by spite, driven by vengeance against the Wyrm.

Azrael tried reasoning with the enraged Goddess but to no avail. Heartbroken and scared, he eventually left her side like all others have before him. His kind nature couldn't stand the atrocities committed in the name of petty revenge.

One day, the one who unintentionally angered the Radiance, extended his hand to Azrael and proposed an alliance, offering the depressed moth a way out of the hole he found himself in. Azrael reluctantly accepted and soon had a new purpose.

To some extent, Azrael recovered and even made some friends in the White Palace (Monomon and Quirrel were his fellow scholars and he enjoyed their company) as he attempted to aid the King in battling the Infection. The moth tribe began to die out until very few of them remained and Azrael was one of them.

Though he was utterly devoted to stopping the plague of the Old Light, his faith in the Pale Monarch faltered once he learned what the Wyrm intends to do to the silent child who one day returned to the Palace with him. And when he discovered what the King had done to create the Pure Vessel, the scholar was left heartbroken and betrayed once again but… Should he remain alone, he'd surely succumb to grief and fall down. Honestly, he couldn't decide which of the two was worse. A once loved Goddess driven mad by lust for vengeance after the loss of her children? Or the Pale Wyrm who was willing to sacrifice everything to achieve his goals? After some time with his thoughts, Azrael settled on the latter. The King at least had good intentions and wished to save Hallownest and his subjects, no matter the cost, while Radiance was forcing innocent bugs under her whim in hopes of reaching and getting rid of the Wyrm once and for all. Trying to seek out the Fallen Brother of the Radiance was out of question as Azrael had no wish to get involved in the affairs of the Nightmare King.

At some point in time, Azrael was approached by his friend, one of the generals of the Pale King, Abaddon. The other bug told the moth he was having dreams of searing light and a soft but spiteful voice calling him, telling him to "remember" and "destroy the Pale Usurper". First symptoms of the Infection.

Because Azrael was a moth, he knew a lot about the Dream Realm and even wielded a Dream Nail of his own. This is exactly the reason Abaddon came to him. No amount of convincing would dissuade the stubborn warrior from taking the steps against the source of the Infection that was the Radiance. Azrael eventually agreed to help, even though he knew his friend stood no chance against the Goddess. If they didn't do anything, he would meet fate worse than death but if he tried, he would surely perish. A lose-lose situation. However… if somehow, by a stroke of luck this mad plan succeeded.. It was worth a shot. If only to end the suffering and spare the Hollow Child from the torment awaiting them.

In secret from the King, Azrael and Abaddon retreated into the Resting Grounds where the veil between the Dreams and Reality is thin. Using herbs and magic, Azrael managed to project Abaddon's consciousness into the Dream Realm, first lending him all the strength he could spare.

His fears were unfortunately confirmed as not even two hours since falling asleep Abaddon suddenly started to convulse violently, shaking and letting out strained screams of pain. Radiance was undoubtedly winning. It was over in barely a minute. The unyielding warrior passed away on Azrael's hands before the moth had a chance to pull him back into the waking world.

Ashamed, devastated and terrified, Azrael laid his friend to rest in a grave beside his beloved who succumbed to the Infection long ago and returned to the White Palace. The King would've heard about it sooner or later. As expected, the Monarch was not pleased by the news. However, with how useful Azrael was, all Wyrm did to punish the moth for disobedience and indirectly causing the death of one of the most skilled warriors of Hallownest was forbid him from ever setting foot in the Palace again until he revokes this decision.

After this fiasco, the Infection seemed to be spreading even faster, decimating entire villages in merely a couple months. There was no way of stopping it. The only one who could make a difference was the teenage Pure Vessel. But they still needed time to grow up and finish their training.

Azrael spent about four days in exile before something strange happened. While he was at the Blue Lake to enjoy some peace and quiet, a sound of footsteps ripped him out of his silent musings. When he turned around, his heart skipped. He could've sworn he saw his deceased friend dart across the pathway to the Crossroads. Confused and apprehensive, Azrael decided to investigate. And that was a mistake.

Once the moth caught up with his friend who limped through the caverns, he realised what a fool he'd been as a single, orange eye glared at him beside a ruined, empty eye socket. Infected. But Abaddon - or rather his infested corpse - didn't charge at Azrael. With a disturbing, garbled voice, he told the moth that the Radiance wants to speak with him face-to-face. It didn't seem he had much choice. Using his Dream Nail, Azrael travelled to the Realm of his mistress. Soon, he found himself before his once beloved Goddess who pleaded for him to help her crush the Pale King. Return her children he'd taken from her. Azrael again tried to reason with her but still in vain. If anything, the Radiance decided sadly the King managed to corrupt even his once pure thoughts to turn him against her. But she neither killed nor Infected Azrael. She still loved him after all.

One of the last members of the moth tribe vanished without a trace, leaving the Pale Court in confusion. His spirit, trapped by his "mother" in the Dream Realm - as she hoped she will be able to eventually convince him to return to her side, to be her son again without forcing the Infection into his mind - remains shackled to the Dream without a chance for rescue. Azrael patiently awaits the end of the Infection, hoping that either Radiance will eventually let go, or the Pale King actually succeeds in defeating her for good. Until then, his body protected by a Seal of Binding - created by the Radiance herself - slumbers hidden away from the world under the supervision of the former Champion of the Wyrm, nobody (except for the Infected as they share the mind of the Old Light) knows where, waiting for someone to release him from the hold of the vengeful Goddess.