#// reviving this beauty just before killing me soon in whatever way this woman is planning; THE AUDACITY of both mun and muse >:V | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chayacat · 4 years ago

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Devil’s Sweet Star (5)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

The days are the same and fortunately for you, no further attempted aggression has been committed on you. But it's not the police you have to thank for that, but just yourself. Because when you tried to file a complaint against your attacker, all the police were able to tell you was that there was nothing they could do. Because as you bear no stigma, no trace of blow ... there would be no point in filing a complaint. You sigh just by thinking about it, decidedly the mentality of some police officers will always surprise you. You really wonder what criteria they are recruited on.

While you were serving a few clients, your gaze was slowly moving towards Jed, leaning over those drafts blackened by his pencil. God he’s beautiful when he is focused... something about him attracts you when he's in that state. But now is not the time to be lost in your thoughts! Let's stay professional first! you walk towards him a tea in hand that you lay on the table, bringing him out of his concentration. He gave you a smile, that angelic smile that could melt all hearts. We remain professional I said!

“I think it'll do you the greatest good, three coffees in a row could turn you into a ball of nerve. always immersed in your research about this ... Hoggins?” You said looking down to the papers.

“Yeah, I need to know a couple of things about him for this reception...so I could more easily slip into the crowd and rummage through his stuff without him noticing anything. Can you imagine if I find anything compromising about this story? This will create the biggest scandal this city... this state has never known.” he responds with some enthusiasm.

“You could also be killed so no one knows. That Hoggins is a very influent man. He could hire someone to kill you and your peers, like that bastard... Forget it. I can’t believe what the police told me... What are they waiting for? that I'm dying to act?”

“This the reason why I rather fend for myself and solve problems in my own way. and that's what I plan to do with Mike. he thinks he can belittle me and hit me with impunity, he is seriously mistaken. I'll take the time it takes, but one day I'll give him back the blows he'll take from me.” He replies putting his glasses back.

“Well, not so shy as I thought after all.”

“I am someone who interacts with people based on how they act with me. If they put me lower than earth ... I do the same.”

He sipped his tea while putting a little order on the table. You can't help but look at his piercing blue eyes, so attractive, that's what makes all his charm, his major asset. When they stared at you, you feel your cheeks blush slightly and with a little embarrassed laugh, you get up and start heading to the counter ready to welcome new customers.

“You know...” Jed starts making you stop and turn to him. “I was thinking... that you could go with me to this reception. If I say you're with me, I don't think it's going to be a problem.” he said with a little smile.

“What?? Me?? Jed I... It’s really nice of you but...I’m not a journalist and even less a girl from high society. I wouldn't feel like I belong there. And then I might embarrass you in your work...I don’t know if it’s a really good idea.” you answer putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why not? I'm going to have a good night at this reception too. But knowing Melina and Mattew, they're going to go their own way and leave me alone lost in the middle of people I don't know. So, if I can share it with a friend... And chat with someone I like and know... I'd rather you came.”

“Well...okay. Thanks Jed. I appreciate that you've thinking about me.”

The door opened and a woman entered the café. Given the outfit she was wearing, she was either working in the office or she was a businesswoman. But a horrible thrill pierced you when you saw in the distance Mc Kellan a smile on the corner. Whoever this woman is, this scumbag knows her for sure.

“Are you the owner of The Nebula?” said the woman by looking around her.

“Yes. Can I help you?” you answer a little worried.

“Let me introduce myself: Mrs Alice Milton. Hygiene inspector. Mr. Kellan has informed me that you are not complying with certain health measures and I am here to check. You don't mind, do you?

“No... Not at all.” you said, trying to stay calm.

Mrs Milton began to do his inspection. She checked every table, every seat, every window. No object escaped his gaze. Then she went to the back shop to check the reserves and worktops. She wrote down two or three things on her notebook and went on.

You observe her, the fear in your stomach, trembling slightly to the simple fact that she could make fall the cleaver on you. You suddenly feel a hand resting on your shoulder, it was Jed's. He gave you a big smile to reassure you, calm your fears and make you understand that whatever she says, he will help you.

Mrs. Milton put away her belongings without saying a word, then left the café to go to McKellan. From the counter you could see them chatting, Mc Kellan didn't look happy and the young woman tried to calm him down. You'd like to be a pigeon or a fly to find out what they're telling each other.

Suddenly you see Mc Kellan driving away without Mrs. Milton. This one came back to the café but for some reason, you feel more comfortable...as if she were just becoming a customer like the others. And this was confirmed when she smiled at you, a reassuring smile, a friendly smile.

“You can breathe now, he's gone. I'm sorry I did this with you. But I had to stay professional in front of him. You are not Horace's first victim. Can I?” She said, looking at Jed’s table.

“Sure.” Jed simply said.

“You look like... not to appreciate him either.” you said while keeping your distance.

“Not really. Horace trusts very few people. He's a very selfish man. Who wants to impose his laws and his manners on everyone. and as soon as someone dares to oppose him... He's calling on me to ‘make the vermin flow’. As I said, you’re not the first one on his list, and you won’t be the last.”

“I have no doubt about that. Coffee?” you ask her before filling her a cup when she nodded. “What did you say to him? Outside.”

“That I found nothing. And as always, he was upset. I said I'll continue my search...But don’t worry I won't do anything. On the other hand, be careful, He’s not likely to give up so easily. And if he gets more upset, he'll make you killing and throwing in Dry Creek.”

Jed says nothing but Danny burns internally, if someone has the right to kill you...It’s him and ONLY him. That's one more reason to kill McKellan. This guy is not only dangerous for you, but for Danny's reputation. There can only be one killer here and Danny is not the type to share the scene. Danny has no choice. He has to get rid of Mc Kellan first. Mike can wait a bit.

“What can I do?” you ask worried.

“Do nothing toward him. Everything you do, he’ll turn it against you. And he’ll get what he wants. I suggest you to protect yourself. Or at least not to be alone in case he'll send you another assailant. Always have something to defend yourself. Or someone.” said Mrs Milton.

You nodded and after a few minutes of conversation, Mrs Milton leaves the coffee, wishing you good luck. You clean Jed's table, who was tidying up his belongings, getting ready to leave. He wrote something on a sheet which he handed you with a little smile. You tilt your head to the side, an eyebrow raised.

“My phone number, in case you’ll need something. Or just want to talk.” He said.

“Jed come on...I can...” you start to answer before seeing he’s insisting. You sight, taking the sheet on your hand. “Fine...Thanks Jed. I’ll owe you one. More than one in fact.”

“I know you’ll help me someday. So, don’t worry. Oh and... I love your praline and coconut cake. A strange but very interesting mix.” he said before leaving, weaving his hand with that angelic smile on his face.

The rest of the day took place and it must be admitted that it was quite sporty. It's hard to handle so many people on your own. But until you have some financial stability, you can't hire someone at the moment. After your usual closing ritual, you go home. Next goal: buys a pepper spray or a small knife, just in case.

You pick up your mail and go back to your apartment. What a relief to finally be at home. You put your belongings on the couch, the letters in a bowl dedicated to your mail and you head to the kitchen. Family's photos decorated some walls of the apartment reviving wonderful memories... But also, painful wounds. Homemade carbonara pasta for the evening will suit perfectly. it is rare that you take industrial products. As you put all the ingredients on the worktop, the phone rang.

Who can call you at this hour? You don't remember giving someone your landline number since you arrived. You ignore the call and go back to your business when it rang again. Someone's really trying to reach you. You take the handset of the phone determined to know who can call you at this time. Every time, it's a number error.

“Hello? Who’s on the phone?” you said.

“Oh. You're not my aunt. Sorry I got the wrong number.” respond the other person on the phone.

Jackpot.

“It doesn't matter, it happens to everyone. Good night.” you replied as start to hang up.

“Wait, wait! Can... can we talk a little bit more? I never heard such a beautiful voice like yours before.”

“Quite a charmer, are you? Well, if you want. if it can make you happy.” You answer with a little laugh.

“Thanks. It's rare for people who take the time to chat with strangers on the phone. Usually, they hang up immediately or never respond. Nice shirt by the way.”

" well, it's usually rare to answer numbers that...” You start before realizing what he said last. “excuse me...What did you just say?”

“I said nice shirt. Purple suits you well.”

“H-how do you know that?”

“... Raise your head.”

You gradually raise your head and face the building in front of yours. In the window that faced yours, you see him. A man with a white mask was there, tilting his head waving his hand to say hello.

“See me now?” He chuckles.

“Who the f*** are you ??” You respond even if you already know the answer.

“What a lovely language...Well, I'm sure you already know the answer but if you insist. You can call me: Ghostface. I think I'm gonna call you...”

“what do you want?”

“Just talk. As I said, I never heard such a beautiful voice before...and never see such a pretty face like yours too.”

“call a prostitute if you want to chat, you freaking weirdo.” You replied ready to hang up.

“Tsk tsk. No no no my little star...if you hang up...you won’t see the sun rise tomorrow. Or your dear nerdy friend won’t see it.”

“Leave Jed alone! It’s between you and me! if you dare to touch him, I swear...” you say angrily before hearing him laugh.

“Calm down my sweet little star... The truth is, I don't intend to touch him. It is thanks to him that I have acquired this beautiful but sinister reputation. He makes me the star of Roseville. We need each other. But let's talk about you. I must admit that I find it difficult to understand how such beauty as you live in such city. You must have a good reason.”

“It’s none of your business. I can ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I want to leave a trace in this miserable world. I want everyone remember my name. But for that I have to move across all the country. You know what? I'm going to let you live for now. But I advise you not to tell the police about our little conversation. It will pain me a lot to disfigure such a pretty face ... and a pretty body. And don't worry, we'll meet again. Good night my sweet little star... Have a beautiful dream.” He said chuckling before hanging up.

You hang up the phone on the table and when you look back at the window, he was gone. Like a shadow in the night. You take a deep breathe, rubbing your face in your hands and sit on the sofa. Deep down, you felt that sooner or later you would face him. But not so quickly. Fortunately for you, he is not determined to make you a new victim of his macabre round. But for how long? you hope for as late as possible.

Unknowingly, my dear little star you fell into the spider's web. Without knowing it you have caught the attention of the devil.

And that's just the beginning.

***

(Done! I'm glad to see you like it! And I hope it will continue! By the way I recently watched The Boy and discovered that dear Brahms~ And I must confess that he does not leave me indifferent. What a lovely British accent he has~ See ya! )

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #danny johnson #jed olsen #ghostface

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saturniandragon · 4 years ago

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Part 3 of 4

Part 2

Part 1

“Ugh, I hate this rain.”

“Oh don’t back off now, you said Countess Viena is counting on you.”

“…was that pun intended?”

“Yes.”

Merri’sa and Elrain regrouped back at the Ayleid temple after the sun had set and darkness covered the skies, albeit under downpour. Both an annoyance and a blessing; none of them could stand being wet and cold for long periods of time, while the sound of rain and abysmal lighting could mask their movement and help them sneak around better.

Merri’sa couldn’t miss that Elrain was unusually packed with equipment, more than what she’s used to go with. A knapsack containing who knew, a metal pick for climbing, and several opaque bottles with cloth on the lid in place of conventional cork.

“What’s in those bottles?”

“Oh these? You’ll see. Hopefully I get to use them so I can show you.”

Elrain took one last look through the monocular before going in. Observation from a distance was now more difficult due to less light available and raindrops coating the glass.

“It’s too quiet. Only six of them out and about, what is this? Where the hell is the rest of them?”

“Probably asleep. Or shielding themselves from the rain.”

“Doesn’t matter, this ends tonight.”

“Ready when you are.”

Elrain took out a rope, tied one end to a large tree trunk on the edge of the overlook, and threw the other end downhill. Followed by Merri’sa, she began rappelling down the cliffside as quickly and safely as possible under the rain. They began their infiltration into the Ayleid temple.

Elrain used the cover of the rain, distraction and cunning to get close to the unsuspecting targets and slit their throats, Merri’sa used her night vision ability and unmatched marksmanship to take down the rest from long range. And just like that, in about 10 minutes, the temple exterior was cleared. 5 years of mutual trust in combat has enabled them to act quickly and efficiently even without verbal communication.

“Wasn’t so bad.” Merri’sa scavenged any arrows still intact enough to conserve ammunition. She still held her principle of utilizing every resource to its limit.

Before going in, Elrain inspected the bodies that they’d killed, hoping to gather any piece of information about what they’re about to face. One of the bandits bore an unusual symbol painted on the back of the hand. It consisted of a number of circles with texts written in strange letters.

“Mary, look at this.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve seen this before?”

“No idea, but that’s… Daedric script.”

“Can you read it?”

“I wish I could. Well, at least now we know we’re dealing with a band of corpse raisers of some sort.”

The rain hadn’t stopped pouring down. If anything, it became heavier than before, and the ambient temperature got colder as a side effect. Adding the faraway cracks of lightning and it might as well classify as a storm.

“The hell are they doing here?”

“Whatever it is they’re doing, it’s not benevolent. Just keep your head down in there.”

The pair began entering the temple interior through an opening. Inside, the walls were lined with beautiful and flowing elven carvings, as well as Ayleid scripts. Unfortunately, none of them were able to translate any.

The Ayleids, like the Dwemer, all disappeared from Nirn before the Second Era started. However, their elven magic still persisted in the temples and buildings they left behind. One such magic was glowing energy stones used to light up interior, in place of conventional oil lamps or candles. Even over 3000 years later in the Fourth Era, these stones hadn’t ceased giving off light, and many discoveries on lost Ayleid ruins revealed traces of usable magic in artifacts and weapons, attracting attention from both magic researchers as well as maleficent individuals looking to harness power.

Merri’sa and Elrain continued their speculating from their last time in the tavern, while traversing the temple interior carefully and keeping eyes open for threats and traps from all angles. Until suddenly they found a corpse of a woman in white robes trapped inside some metal cage. Elrain went ahead to inspect it.

“Mary, cover me.”

Elrain slipped her arms through the metal bars and checked the body for possible information. Blood patterns, laceration wounds and burn marks. Some organs appeared to have been removed from the body. But it didn’t take long until she was struck by a terrible realization.

“Shit, Mary, it’s the missing priestess.”

“Is she dead?”

“Been dead for at least 2 days, judging from the dried blood. But looks like they… removed her heart.”

“What? Let me see.”

Elrain and Merri’sa swapped turns. Nothing much they could gather from it as the metal cage was tightly locked with no visible keyhole. Aside from the missing heart, all the blood also seemed to have been extracted out.

“Seems like they kept her alive for some period before deciding to kill her.”

“But necromancers don’t salvage body parts, do they? Unless they plan on resurrecting someone else.”

“I feared as much. We better keep moving, I don’t want to find out what atrocities they’re about to commit if we don’t do anything.”

Merri’sa and Elrain continued on forward, deeper into the temple. The further they went, the stranger the ambient air felt like, giving a clear sign that there’s heavy influence of magic in the area. While they continued finding more dead bodies of travelers, mercenaries and civilians alike, they hadn’t encountered any hostiles in the temple interior, which was unusual as they earlier expected to face fierce resistance. But they knew they were going the right way as they noticed more and more of the same symbols painted on the temple walls, the same symbol as the one found earlier on the bandit they killed.

“Mary, I don’t like this. Where the hell are they?”

“I don’t like it either, just keep your eyes open.”

All the corpses they encountered shared the same characteristics; lacerations, at least one missing organ and all the blood drained out. Even some were missing limbs. A really gruesome place to be in, but they had a job to do and they intended to complete it. Though the overall scent of the temple interior didn’t make it any easier.

One hour of carefully walking through the hallways of the Ayleid ruin, dodging traps and unknown objects, they finally found something significant. At the end of a large hall was a door with lights and muffled chanting voices propagating from it. And the same symbol with Daedric script appeared again, carved on the door.

“What the hell? Mary, you hear that?”

“I do. C’mon, help me open this.”

Merri’sa and Elrain both tried to force the door open, first by focusing their body mass on it, and when that didn’t work, they started using other methods like using a metal pick to pry it open and burning it with a fire spell. Yet, the door wouldn’t budge a hair no matter what they did.

“Ugh, it’s not opening. Something’s blocking it from the other side. Mary?”

“I’m gonna look around.”

All that’s left of that night’s journey was behind that very door, anything in there could help answer what had been happening between Skingrad and Kvatch. So close, yet still far.

Merri’sa started looking around the large hallway, while Elrain sat down on a boulder to regain some stamina and magicka. Pillars towering to the ceiling, large balcony 6 meters high, piles of rubble blocking another doorway, carved elven statues and furniture, and stone coffins. Nothing particularly useful to get the door open.

A particular relief on the wall caught her attention. She studied the carvings for a while, until she discovered a horrifying piece of history.

“By the Eight. El, come here.”

“What? What is it?”

“Look at this.”

Elrain walked towards Merri’sa, both set their eyes on the carved relief on the temple wall.

“Woah.”

“This may be our answer.”

The relief displayed a female figure of elven origins, surrounded by what appeared to be elven wizards channeling magic to her body. A possible hint of practice of resurrection or life preservation done for significant persons in ancient society to prolong their age and firm hold over power. But what ticked them off was the part that pictured a stack of corpses surrounding the wizards, as well as a ring of worshippers around the edges of the relief.

“Is this…”

“A necromantic ritual? Likely. Whoever’s behind that door is probably trying to revive this female figure, possibly the queen who once ruled this place.”

“So wait, those corpses we saw earlier…”

“Someone or some people are trying to replicate history.”

“But to what end?”

“I don’t know, seek of power? An insight to the future? I’ve read stories of Ayleid fanatics doing whatever it takes to see the rise of Ayleid dominance on Tamriel again.”

“Shit. Well we need to get in there.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Do you have leftover rope?”

“Uh, I think I do, actually,” Elrain scrambled through her knapsack, and took out a small pile of rope. “What are you doing with it?”

Merri’sa snatched the rope from her hands, and the metal pick hanging on her belt.

“Hey that’s mine!” With quick hands, she tied one end of the rope firmly to the grip of the pick. She then threw the pick over the balcony where it held a strong and stable grip, allowing the hanging end of the rope to be used for climbing. And immediately, the Khajiit got up from the ground floor to the balcony pretty easily.

“Oh,” Elrain was taken aback by her creativity and intelligence. Never in her life had she thought of utilizing both of those items in combination. “Where did you learn that?”

“A certain book.” Merri’sa inspected the balcony spaces and found a doorway leading to a narrow corridor. “Looks like there’s a way forward, come on and climb up here.” Without second thoughts, Elrain followed suit and climbed up the rope, and the pair continued their journey deeper into the temple. Their goal was now made clear; stopping terrible history from taking place again.

The chanting they heard earlier became clearer and clearer, and soon enough they found themselves on different balcony in yet another massive hall, but this time even more corpses littered an area large enough to fit a small settlement. Some were no more than bones and skulls.

But their attention was in the middle of the room. Probably 3 dozen people dressed up in blue hooded robes all in a worshipping position circling around a central altar, collectively chanting ancient elven or Daedric language, while other two individuals in black robes stood on the altar with raised hands, supposedly the master necromancers who were leading the ritual. A visible flow of magicka surrounded the room, most of it was directed towards the altar itself, where presumably the body of the Ayleid queen was laid on.

“What on Nirn…”

Merri’sa and Elrain both were stunned by the sight before their eyes. They had prime seat of observing real time attempt of an entire necromantic cult resurrecting an Ayleid queen. This was it, a jarring string of events that had taken countless of innocent lives over the past few months, that they had to stop before the worst. They took cover behind the balusters, making sure no one could see them just to be safe.

“Looks like they can’t hear us from up here, good.”

“You want to take them all out, just like old times?”

“I still need to know what’s in those bottles you carry.”

“Ah, perfect time to show you.”

Elrain took one of the bottles, plucked out the cloth from the lid and placed the lid close to Merri’sa’s nose, signaling her to take scent of the bottle content.

“You smell that?”

“Oil. But what is–”

Merri’sa immediately found out the purpose of said bottle. It’s a makeshift fire spreader, designed to set things on fire from a distance by spreading oil over an area and letting the cloth act as a wick and burn the flammable liquid.

“Yes, you see my point?”

“Clever. Where did you learn to make that?”

“A certain book.”

“Hmph.” Merri’sa let out a small but audible condescending exhale, but it’d be lie if she wasn’t impressed with what her elven companion had managed to come up with mundane, everyday objects. “So what’s the plan?”

“We don’t have enough arrows for all of them, but hear me out. First, we burn the cloth in these bottles, and then, those two in black robes,” Elrain pointed towards the two people standing on the altar. “Kill both of them at the same time, throw these bottles on top of the crowd and escape in the chaos.”

“And what about the ones who survive?”

“Hopefully confused enough to process what happens. If they’re this committed into the ritual, we should have time to leave before they realize.”

A crudely made strategy, made in a hurry. But they knew their situation, they didn’t have enough ammunition for all of them even if they counted their shots, and fighting necromancers in close range surrounded by a mountain of dead bodies would be pretty much death.

At this point there was hardly any better plan than what Elrain proposed.

“I don’t see any other way, let’s do it.”

Elrain prepared the bottles, placing them on the floor. One by one she ignited the cloth wick using a small fire spell. Merri’sa prepared her trusty recurve bow, nocked a steel arrow into place and pulled the bowstring. Elrain followed short after. They had to time their shots at the same moment.

“The cloth wick won’t last long. Let’s be quick about this.”

“Alright, you take the one on the right, I get the left one. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“On three. One, two…”

“Three.”

Two arrows were launched from the dark corner of the hall, arcing down as they traveled towards the target. A second later, two thuds were heard as the master necromancers in the center of the altar dropped dead on the floor and the magicka flow around the room quickly faded out. The pair wasted no time, grabbed the bottles and threw them as accurate as possible towards the cult worshippers. Three loud sounds of glass shatter echoed across the room, as fire spread on their feet and incinerated some of the cult worshippers.

“Great shot, El. Now let’s go, they’ll be searching for us.”

Merri’sa and Elrain didn’t take chances as they booked it towards the temple exit. They jumped down the previous balcony they climbed, but by the time they landed feet on the ground, the door that they tried to budge through was immediately busted open, and a group of angry mages were at the doorway. Without hesitation they casted various Destruction spells as the pair tried to flee.

“Behind us!”

“Forget them! Just run!”

“Intruders! Kill them!”

The pair spent no time looking over their shoulders. Their mind was focused on escaping the temple alive. Merri’sa’s agility and Elrain’s compact posture made it easier for them to navigate tight corners and doorways. At one point the mages got dangerously close to them, so Elrain lit up another oil bottle she brought as a backup.

“This should buy us time.” When they sprinted through the last corridor before the exit, Elrain shattered the last oil bottle on their tracks, creating a pool of fire behind them and stopping the mages from going after them.

“You’re a dirty little wood elf, El, you know that?” Merri’sa said sarcastically.

“Oh, sod off. Save your compliments for later.”

They finally got outside, where the rain had stopped falling down and the two moons of Masser and Secunda lit up the night sky, but their escape wasn’t done just yet. They still needed to make sure no one trailed behind them, so they went after the nearest treeline into the dense Cyrodiilic forest, and through the woods they ran towards Skingrad, the closest guarded settlement.

Inside the walls of Skingrad, Merri’sa and Elrain were filled with adrenaline, having a hard time believing what they just did at the Ayleid temple. They always found satisfaction in doing stealthy combat —Merri’sa especially—, but this one would become an unforgettable experience for both of them, for a pair of skilled markswomen doing a noble service for the people of Cyrodiil.

“Is that why you visited Imperial City? To craft those oil bottles.”

“Hell yes it is. Not bad at all, don’t you think?”

“Impressive, El. Impressive.”

#tes #the elder scrolls #fic #the elder scrolls fic #oc: merri'sa #oc: elrain #khajiit #bosmer #mine

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zutaradreams · 5 years ago

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Day 13: Folktale

AU based on the Irish Folktale, The Blue Mountains. To be continued tomorrow

AO3

Part 2

@zutaramonth

Jet’s stomach rumbled. “We should have thought this through more,” he said.

“A few days in the desert won’t kill you,” muttered Zuko as he attempted to fan himself from the harsh sun. “We couldn’t stay in the army any longer.”

“What’s the point of deserting if we’re just going to die out here.”

“We aren’t going to die!”

“Whatever. I never even saw this desert on any maps. If I had, I would have found a way around it. I still wish I’d stolen more provisions.”

“Jet?”

“What?”

Zuko sneered at him. “Stop complaining.”

Zuko wished he had never left with Jet. He would have had much better odds if he deserted on his own. It had been Jet that was on guard duty when he planned to leave, though. The original plan was to bribe him or knock him out if that didn’t work, but the self-proclaimed “freedom fighter” had wanted to join him. Now he was holding him back.

“I hate sleeping on sand,” Jet groaned when it came time to camp for the night.

Get lost, thought Zuko as his eyelids grew heavy. “You’re taking first watch.”

“I know. I hate first watch.”

Zuko sighed heavily. “Just wake me when you get tired.”

The next morning when he woke up and stretched his body out in front of him, he peered over and realized his wish had come true. Jet was gone! There was absolutely no trace that he had ever been with him in the first place. While Zuko thought it was odd and kept his senses heightened for a missing rebel, he did not let it otherwise affect him.

Then night came, and Zuko was afraid to sleep. There was no one to keep watch but him, so he stayed up as long as he could, and right when he thought he wouldn’t be able to hold off sleep any longer, a fuzzy object appeared in the distance. As Zuko focused on the object under the bright light of the full moon, he saw that it was a castle.

“It’s a hallucination,” he said to himself, but it was a far greater castle than anything he could have ever dreamed up. Even under the moonlight, the richness of it glistened, and he felt himself stand up and walk towards it, like a moth to a flame.

With strength he didn’t know he had, he arrived at the steps of the castle, and as he looked upon the doorway, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen standing there. She smiled at him.

“You must be hungry and thirsty,” she said. “Will you come in? I have food and water if you’ll take it.”

“Yes, please,” he answered, realizing how deprived he had actually become wandering through the desert.

She opened the doors to the castle and invited him inside. As soon as he entered, he realized the entire hall was filled to the brim with sleeping men. “What is this?”

“They have come here to eat, drink, and sleep,” the woman replied. “Now come this way.”

He followed her to separate room, with a table for dining in the center. Above the table hung a glittering diamond chandelier. Emeralds were strewn into the room’s curtains. Rubies lined every chair. He pulled one of the ruby chairs out from the table and sat in it. As he processed the sheer opulence of the room, he noticed the woman set a bowl of soup and a cup of water in front of him, but he was still so impressed that he forgot his hunger.

“Won’t you have something?” she implored him, breaking him of his reverie.

His senses returned. He pushed away what she had given him. “I won’t take anything from you until I know who you are and how you’re here.”

An awe-stuck gleam brightened her lovely blue eyes, and her lips curved into a breathtaking smile. “Did you know in sixteen years no one has ever asked about me?”

“Then they were fools.”

“My name is Katara. What’s yours?”

“Zuko.”

“Why are you wandering through the desert?”

“I was with the army, but I defected after I realized I didn’t believe in the war.”

“There’s a war going on?”

His face creased. “Yeah, where have you been?”

Katara sighed sadly. “Here. Always here. I’m cursed. My father is the king of a great land, and he cursed me when I was just a baby. I have to stay here until a man breaks the curse. You are the first man I’ve ever thought could.”

He remembered the men sleeping in the hall. “Did the others try?”

“They never got the chance. They ate and drank without asking about me, and they’re stuck sleeping here until the curse breaks.”

His heart sunk to know Katara had been shut up in this castle for sixteen years. He also thought about the dozens of men, sleeping their lives away. Zuko knew something about being trapped. “What do I have to do to break the curse?”

“If I tell you, you have to do it,” she warned.

He waited a minute, thinking it over in his head. Katara added, “My father said the one who frees me will be the one to marry me. He’ll receive one third of my father’s kingdom as soon as I’m free and all of it after he dies.”

He had his mind made up before she continued. “Go ahead and tell me.”

“There’s a room at the far end of the east wing. If I can get a man to stay there for two hours, the hours of ten to midnight, every night for three nights, I will be free.”

“That sounds easy enough.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

She took him to the room. It looked comfortable enough. The ten o’ clock hour was approaching. When the time came to shut Zuko in the room, she took his hand. “Two hours,” she reminded him.

“Yes, two hours.”

In an action that brought a blush to his face, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

When the heavy door slammed closed behind Katara, Zuko blew out his candles and went to lay in the bed at the corner of the room. He rested his head against the silk pillow, but he was unable to sleep on account of a loud hammering noise on the door. The first noise was soon accompanied by others, pounding and knocking.

“Open up,” the voices clamored.

“No,” said Zuko, but the group succeeded in opening the door and ripped Zuko from the bed. They threw him to the floor and delivered blows all over his body. Some kicked him, others bit, some struck him with hard objects, all while Zuko howled in pain and struggled to free himself from the assault. Even in the army, he had never felt so close to death.

It felt like a century of agony passed before the castle’s grand clock struck midnight, and the group of invisible faces disbanded and left him alone. The princess rushed in immediately and crouched over his beaten body.

“If you think I’m going through that for another two nights, you’re mistaken.”

“Oh, Zuko, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands out over her body. “I have the power to heal. I can take all the pain away.” Her hands glowed blue, as blue as her eyes, right before him as she tended to the wounds on his body. Immediately, he felt relief, and when she finished her work a few minutes later, Zuko looked down to find his body perfectly healed, his pain nothing but a memory.

She cradled his head in her arms and pleaded with him, “Please, stay for two more nights. Tomorrow won’t be as bad. Please, I have never been this close to my freedom.”

Her healing hands, sweet voice, and enchanting touch pulled him back.

“Two more nights,” he agreed.

He spent the next day touring the castle with her, and when night came, he laid down on the bed to rest. Then ten o’ clock struck, and this time three times as many assailants barged into the room. Zuko thought he would surely be dead by midnight. He felt his ribs pierce his lungs, bones breaking in his body, his head hammering against the solid floor.

“Stop!” He cried out, but the blows continued. “Stop!”

By the end of the two hours, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. When he woke, he saw Katara’s eyes looking down on him. He was certainly surprised. He didn’t think he would live to see her again.

“Your hands bring the dead back to life,” he told her.

“No, I can’t reverse death, but I can revive even the faintest spark of life.” Her fingers combed through his hair. “Just one more night,” she reminded him.

He shook his head. “I won’t survive it.”

“Yes, you will. Please, we’re almost out of here.” She took him in her arms and held his body to hers. “Please, please.”

“I don’t think so, Princess.”

“Don’t you want to inherit a great land and all the riches within it?”

“I have to admit, I came from my own great land. That one never appealed to me much either.”

She sobbed into his shoulder. “I can be a good wife to you. I can love you with all of my might. I’m already so close to loving you. Please. One more night.”

He had never liked to see a woman cry. Now that his wounds had been healed without an echo of the pain he’d suffered, the night ahead of him didn’t seem so bad. One more night of suffering in exchange for love and power. It didn’t seem like such a bad deal the longer he stared into the watery blue eyes of the princess he was beginning to love too.

“One more night.”

#zutaradreams #zutaramonth #zutara #day13

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blehbleehhhh · 5 years ago

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Isis and Osiris 💕🦂(ft. EreMika)

Another lovely reader suggested I do a piece involving mythology of some kind! I've always been really into Egyptian Mythology (Ancient Egypt anything though so so fascinating) Anyway, I was super quick to decide on these two. What I did was write my interpretation of The Osiris Myth with their names in it instead. A few facts that are necessary to know before you continue: the original gods of ancient Egypt were Osiris, Isis, Set, Horus, and Nephthys. The myth is basically Set tricks Osiris to his demise, Isis revives Osiris, etc. ancient.eu is a great website, I recommend if you're interested in learning more! Greek Mythology is amazing too, don't get me wrong, just, idk, enjoy the story. Keep requesting and thank you for the lovely comments💕

ps: I LOVE Jean, lol, so this was hard! But he and Eren always fucking fight so.

pps: dedicated to anyone who catches the Supernatural references ;)

Cast:

Eren - Osiris

Mikasa - Isis

Jean - Set

Hitch - Nephthys

"All seems to be going well." Mikasa smiles as she comes up behind her loving husband while he sits in a chair on the balcony overlooking their flourishing kingdom. The sun is low as it rests on the horizon and reflects its dazzling rays across the mighty Nile River. Egyptian citizens stand in the shallows with pails gathering fresh, clean water for drinking and cooking. "Humanity has a perfect, stable climate to thrive in and resources are always bountiful." She slowly moves her hand down the front of his exposed muscular chest that's still deliciously lean. As gods they have their duties and obligations, all of which lie with maintaining that perfect climate and the plentifulness of resources. Everything has been a paradise since the power couple were crowned as King and Queen of Egypt because they take their roles so seriously. It's undeniably their purpose.

"We must maintain this, my queen," Eren relaxes back in his seat from her touch and sighs with content. "They're counting on us to watch over and keep them safe."

"And we will." She assures as gracefully walks around the chair to sit in her husband's lap and rests her cheek on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her back and reaches up to carefully play with her soft black hair. "Nothing is more important than maintaining this order so there remains no injustices and everyone stays equal."

"That is why we rule together," He chuckles softly into her hair and kisses the top of her head. "We have the same goals when it comes to caring for our people."

"Must we go to that party this evening? I think I'd rather stay here.." Her finger traces small patterns on his chest and he smiles, amused at the way she's speaking so innocently.

"Unfortunately, yes. Jean mentioned he had something important to show me, though I would much rather be in bed with you. Maybe we can leave right afterwards and return to messy up the clean sheets?"

"I would love that." Mikasa lifts her head to look into dazzling emeralds and places her hand on his cheek, then bumps their foreheads together gently.

"Oh, how I love you."

"And I you.." She smiles and presses her lips to his to share a deep, loving smooch that's slow and tender. Tongues collide between kisses as her fingers slide up into his hair and he rests his arm over her legs, allowing his hand to slowly wander on soft skin not covered with the skirt of her dress. Words cannot describe how much the couple crave each other, they've never been able to keep their hands to themselves when they're together, but there's quite a time constraint because of the large dinner party they have invitations to this evening. It's not as if they don't have practice stowing their sexual tension on the back burner to make something more important their first priority, whatever that may be. In this case it's a celebration being thrown by Jean, who wouldn't normally bother to invite the one guy he despises more than anything. But the envy in his heart is real and it's all because of his brother's undeniable success - humanity is thriving under Eren's powerful rule as a just, generous, and giving god of life, so the decision to take him out was an easy one. Especially after his wife later became pregnant with a baby that wasn't of his seed, though he still isn't aware that Eren had been tricked into this with a cruel spell that made her appear to be Mikasa. It wouldn't matter if he did know anyhow since his brother is dead to him now and all he wants is revenge.

Perhaps that's why Jean went to all the trouble of having a coffin constructed with his brother's exact height. He plans to do the unthinkable and kill his own flesh and blood because if anyone is going to be Lord of Life, it's going to be him, certainly not Eren. "And so anyone who can fit in this beautiful coffin shall receive it free as a gift." Jean gestures to the box made from stone, the thin gold sheets that were beautifully pressed into it reflect the glimmer from candlelight. The necessary symbols have already been painted on its entirety so his brother's soul has the directions it needs to navigate the afterlife. Many party guests lined up to participate including the one this coffin is intended for and his wife, who cuddles into him drunkenly while he keeps a protective arm around her shoulders. She smiles and rests her cheek on his bicep while he speaks with other attendees, both of them blissfully unaware of the events that are soon to take place. And just as anticipated, Mikasa very quickly became the one most horrified when the coffin's lid was slammed shut and fastened so tightly, that its a guarantee his victim won't be able to escape.

"Jean! What in the name of all creation are you doing?!" Mikasa cries as she grabs onto him desperately and uses all of her strength to throw him off, hoping that if the coffin was dropped that perhaps it would crack open. "Have you lost your mind?! That's my husband! Release him immediately!" But a few of Jean's friends were waiting on the sidelines for his cue to restrain her, something that wasn't an easy task by any means because she insists on throwing herself around, kicking, screaming, and crying hysterically. It was necessary for him to get the coffin outside, however, and she did manage to get away long enough to reach the outside of the palace. She watches with blurry eyes, screaming for her husband as the coffin is cruelly tossed into The Nile River to be carried out to sea, where it was eventually lodged in a mighty tamarisk tree in Bybalos that grew to consume it rather quickly.

The King and Queen of Bybalos walk together along the beach shoreline. They were drawn here during their daily stroll by a sweet scent emanating from the tamarisk tree and ordered it to be cut down and made into a ornamental pillar for the palace. Unbeknownst to the royal family, a goddess mourns terribly over her husband's death and, after following the river, she has found her way to Bybalos. She's already in a new form in order to disguise her true identity - an elderly woman who wails in grief over her missing love. His body is somewhere nearby, she can feel it, and her heart calls to him whether he's alive or not. Little did she know, there were a few young women standing nearby watching her with sad eyes. "Excuse me, madam?" One says sweetly, and Mikasa immediately turns to see the two of them wearing looks of true concern. They are clearly handmaidens from their attire. "Are you alright?"

"Have you a home to live in?" The other asks.

"Oh, I-I don't want to be a burden.."

"Nonsense! We insist!" And so The Queen of the Throne, disguised as a normal, elderly woman, was kindly taken in by the King and Queen of Bybalos. She was asked to be the nursemaid for their three young boys who had really taken a liking to her, a task that she rather enjoyed and took very seriously. Mikasa favored the youngest son in particular, though, and decided that she would make him immortal through a bath of holy fire. But the lady of the house caught such a terrifying act right before the ceremony could proceed and she was understandably horrified.

"What are you doing with my baby boy?!"

"Please, this is not as it seems." She says calmly as she transforms into her normal form, a sight so beautiful and mighty to behold that they were afraid for their lives. "I am the goddess, Mikasa, and I truly mean you no harm."

"W-well, what is it you want?"

"I only want my husband. The tree you made your beautiful ornamental pillar from was the one he died in and his body is still trapped."

"Oh, dear!" The Queen says, stepping back from the doorway leading out into the parlor where the pillar is displayed. "Please, help yourself. Our condolences for King Eren's passing.."

"Thank you. You're all very kind." Mikasa gently touched her palm to the foreheads of each family member and cured them of all ailments to show her gratitude, one of them had been stuck in bed for years with crippling pain that is now gone. She doesn't even do it for the praise, it's never been about that for her and Eren. In fact, that's why they were paired together by their creator, because he knew this power couple will put the needs of humanity before their own. But just this one time, Mikasa chooses to be selfish and shuts herself out from that world to focus on carrying her husband's lifeless body back to Egypt. She assumes her half falcon form and carries them both through the air as tears stream down her face. "No, no, no, no..." Not him, not my Eren. She says to herself and swallows hard as she looks down at his face, paler than before with slightly blue lips from suffocating. "I can't go on without you.." Mikasa whispers to him, and her voice quivers as she lands gracefully in the fertile Nile River Delta with him in her arms. Her wings slowly fade as she carefully sits with him on the ground, his upper half resting in her lap. She kisses his forehead and wraps her arms around his shoulders, sobbing and wailing in agony like she has been torn in half. It hurts deeply to see him lifeless. "You were alive an hour ago! This can't be!"

"Mikasa?" Hitch calls from behind her. "Is that Eren?! What on Earth happened?!" She approaches slowly and crouches down beside her sister with a look of horror.

"Jean happened. I must revive my husband so, if you'll excuse me, I have herbs to gather."

"Of course, anything you need. I'll stay here with his body and make sure nothing happens."

"Thank you." It was strange how Mikasa can look at her with teary eyes but such a cold expression. Though she and Eren have always been inseparable, so it shouldn't be that much of a surprise that she's so heartbroken. They were supposed to be together until the end of time, and perhaps this can still happen if she is able to gather the herbs she needs for a spell that will bring him back to her. I can't live without him by my side. She thinks as she searches desperately for supplies, tears rolling down her cheeks and falling to the ground, creating little flower buds that sprout from the ready Earth below.

Meanwhile, Jean had gotten wind of his brother's return and Mikasa's intentions, so he went out to search for them. He came across his wife Hitch, who was pacing impatiently along The Nile's coastline clearly feeling bothered by something. And he's pretty sure that he knows what it is. "Thinking about how you cheated on me?" Jean asks plainly. A simple question and yet she found herself unable to speak. "So, where's his body?" He studies her eyes and takes note of the hesitation that makes her avert his probing gaze.

"Where's whose body?" Hitch cracks her knuckles anxiously and looks down at the ground, only for him to gently grab her chin and force her to look into his eyes.

"Don't. I know you know where Eren's body is, so where is it?"

"I-"

"Where is his body, Hitch?"

"Jean.." Her eyes fill up with tears. Perhaps if she apologizes, this will all be over. "I'm -"

"I love you and I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I need to. So I'll ask you one last time, where did you and Mikasa hide that dirt bag's body?" Jean repeats much louder than before but just as emotionless. She eventually caves in and guides him to the hiding spot, not at all anticipating what her vengeful husband proceeded to do next. The body was hacked into multiple pieces then scattered throughout the land and dumped into The Nile River. Jean simply walks away without even looking at her because he finds that he doesn't care what she thinks anymore. Why put in the effort if there clearly isn't anything there? Mikasa strolls by carrying a basket full of herbs intended to bring her husband back to life and was angered to see his murderer. When she realized that he was covered in blood but his own body was absent of any wounds, it's understandable why she feared the worst. Much to her rel͏i͏e͏f, Hitch is very much alive and in one piece, but that also means something horrific has happened to Eren's body to make her sister look like that - shaking, paler than a ghost, and weeping after she's already cried a great deal.

"You were supposed to protect him!"

"He just..I-I didn't think that he would..."

"We must hurry and find every part of Eren's body!" Mikasa cries as she sets the basket of herbs on the ground. The twin sisters sprout their wings and take off in a frantic search for all of his body parts. Unfortunately, the way that the power couple had originally intended to conceive will now be impossible once Eren is revived, because all but one body part was successfully recovered. They return to the fertile Nile River marshes where his body is sewn back together and buried in the wetland up to his chin. Mikasa creates her concoction and with help from her sister, they performed the powerful spell, sending visible waves of energy brighter than the full moon into his body. The raven's tears fall to the Earth and he takes a sharp inhale before he sits up to cough aggressively, the marshland falling from his body. "Oh! Eren! My love!" She sobs into her hand as she watches him turn and meet her eyes, emerald green orbs so bright and lively that they took her breath away.

"Mikasa!" Eren says with genuine shock to his voice and opens his arms for her to embrace him tightly. He looks over her shoulder at Hitch with tears in his eyes and wraps his arms tightly around Mikasa's waist. "What the hell happened?"

"We revived you!" She sits back and gazes into his eyes, smiling and chuckling softly in disbelief. "I-I didn't think it would take because you were hacked to pieces, but here you are..."

"But my body, I feel it is not complete?"

"I'm afraid it's not, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find your -"

"Our creator..." Eren cuts her off, looking down at his body to see the sutures. "I met him. He said that our future son will be strong enough to defeat Jean and restore order to the chaos he has caused."

"But without your..." Mikasa sighs and wipes tears from her eyes, wracking her mind for some sort of a solution that could bring her husband peace. It is her duty as his wife, after all.

"The ritual...flying form," Hitch suggests as she places her hand on Mikasa's shoulder. "Perhaps it'll work?" She offers a small smile to her sister and watches her stand to sprout her beautiful, colorful wings once more. Soaring through the sky in rapid circles over his body, the seed is drawn out and brought into her own so she could become pregnant with their first and only child. With the power of the gods, a baby boy was now growing rapidly inside of Mikasa as she kneels beside her husband, trying desperately not to burst into tears because he is insisting that he has work to do in the afterlife.

"Our little boy will grow to be a warrior with or without me because he has you. You're just as fierce as I am. More so, even."

"Let's get you back to the palace, love, I'll take care of you.." Mikasa repeats for a second time as tears fall down her cheeks.

"We will be together again," Eren says calmly and carefully cradles her cheek in his hand. "Death won't keep us apart forever, then we will have all of eternity to spend together." He gives her a reassuring smile and reaches up to gently push her hair back as she leans in and presses her lips to his. Although she was most certainly reluctant to let him go, Mikasa knows that this is something he must do. And if their creator has instructed him to be leader of the afterlife, to be the judge and the jury of every soul that will come his way, then who is she to tell him otherwise? It was only a single day after Eren descended down to take on his new role that their little boy was born. But Mikasa feared for his safety around Jean because he's half of the man he hates the most, so she hid with him in The Nile River Marshes. She took care of her son, a son of two powerful gods, during the short time required for a youngster to become full grown.

The day that their son left his mother spelled the end for Jean, who had already become somewhat of a tyrant. It's understandable how he gained control so quickly, since the boy's powerful parents have been more than preoccupied lately with their own issues - ones that made it difficult to put their loyal, loving subjects first for once. This young man is powerful, very powerful, and his uncle doesn't stand a chance against him. He gets the ultimate revenge for his father's murder and kills Jean, though it seemed pointless because he knows that won't bring his old man back. But it truly didn't matter, because now his mother Mikasa, the great Queen of the Throne and mother to all pharaohs is back in power once more. They rule together as mother and son, and everything returns to the way things were when her husband was alive - no crimes of any kind, plentiful resources, plenty of jobs and money. It's a paradise.

Meanwhile, in the afterlife, Eren sits on his throne and listens to pleas for mercy from a poor soul whose heart felt so guilty, that the feather went up in record timing. The pleas don't matter, not with the efficiency that comes from weighing guilt. He was crowned as The Lord of The Underworld and now sports green skin to symbolize the mighty Nile River and the fertility of its mud. The afterlife is running smoothly under Eren's control and when his beautiful wife Mikasa takes her throne beside him after her time is up, they will be together again.

Until the end of time.

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girlobsessed21 · 5 years ago

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The 100 season 6 - theories and predictions.

No episode this week, I know, it sucks. So, I’ve decided to do jot down some thoughts and conspiracies I have. Feel free to argue with me. I love hearing I’m wrong and why.

Episode 6 is called Memento Mori, Latin for "remember that you will die", is the medieval Latin Christian theory and practice of reflection on mortality, especially as a means of considering the vanity of earthly life and the transient nature of all earthly goods and pursuits.

Episode 7: Nevermind - used to tell someone not to worry about something because it is not important.

Episode 8: The old man and the anomaly aka Gabriel and time travel.

Episode 9: What you take with you - when you die?

Episode 10: Matryoshka: also known as Russian nesting dolls, stacking dolls, or Russian dolls, are the set of wooden dolls of decreasing size placed one inside another.

Episode 11: Ashes to ashes - derives from the English Burial Service. The text of that service is adapted from the Biblical text, Genesis 3:19 (King James Version): In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

Episode 12: Adjustment protocol

Episode 13: The blood of Sanctum

All of the above refers to mortality and death. The entire season will thus focus on both the continuance and destruction of the primes.

Murphine in cahoots

Luckily Murphy loves Emori, because that hookup would have made me nauseous. I HOPE IT DOESN’T HAPPEN. Okay, he will do whatever it takes to avoid hell and get eternal life. Call me a big old Murphy marshmallow, but I refuse to believe he’ll put his family in harm's way.

Josephine will have to promise their safety in order to gain his co-operation. The rest he doesn’t care about. Including Clarke. I know he saved her during the eclipse but he needed her help to rescue Bellamy. He seems pretty mad at her, I’m sure he doesn’t want her dead, but she’s not on his list of top priorities.

Josephine needs to learn how to create nightbloods and only Abby knows how to do that. And Abby will swim across the Atlantic to save Kane. Ding Dong, create another nightblood to save Kane, but who will that be? One of McCreary’s crew, a fellow Wonkru warrior or will Abby sacrifice herself? Not sure if a man can utilize a woman’s body.

She is so determined to save the love of her life, that she ignores the gravity of her own daughter writing with the wrong hand. Further, she has already expressed her opinion on how Kane deserves to live while they don’t. She bears a lot of guilt for the things she has done. But Abby wasn’t comfortable with their experiments in Becca’s lab. It will take a lot of persuasion; can she be convinced to take another life?

Maybe Murphy and Josephine will tell Bellamy that there’s a way to bring Clarke back to get him on board. They’ll have to temporarily kill her parents to continue with their scheme. Russel is firmly against Josephine’s breeding plans and creating new nightbloods means murdering red-blooded people.

Head over heart Bellamy would not be okay with this, but I think he might lose his head over the loss of Clarke. More on this later. Jordan will do whatever it takes to save Delilah, so he might board this “saving” ship too. Raven will torture herself when she finds out about this and probably go above and beyond to help bring her back. Echo and Emori might be indifferent.

Josephine vs Clarke

A lot of you have argued against my Mount Weather theory last week. I’m still not convinced it’s not time travel via the anomaly but I’m not psychic. So, my other option is that Josephine will experience Clarke’s past as dreams. Bellamy explains, in trig, that it’s how his victims haunt him. Perhaps a little foreshadowing.

Russel was in a hurry and distraught to clear the host (kill Clarke) and bring his daughter back. In my 6x05 review, I did a bit of research on the meaning of Gabriel’s biology terms and came to the conclusion that Clarke is not dead, only in a deep vegetative state. Gabriel stressed the fact that they had to wait for the serum to reach the claustrum. Perhaps it didn’t take full effect.

Josephine did not sleep her first night back, but when she does it might be restless and filled with Clarke’s demons. Clarke Griffin is a fighter, trust her not to back down. Not to give up. She’s gonna taunt you until you wanna crash the Ferrari. We know both Jake and Maya comes back, so this is probably where we’ll see them. Unfortunately, in the process, she’ll have to relive it herself.

The crazy smoothie that cleanses the body of all evils

Ingredients:

1 x Red Queen

1 x Terrorist

1 x Rebel named Xavier

1 x Old man

1 x Temporal Anomaly

Mix all the ingredients together and you have the perfect solution for a prime pest problem. Octavia and Diyoza are desperate to find Gabriel and if it means time traveling through the temporal anomaly, then so be it.

Octavia’s hand aged when it came into contact with the temporal flare. So, I’m fairly certain they’re either going back or forward in time. IMDB shows Hope as a little girl in 6x08, which means Diyoza visits the future and Octavia might go back to the bunker to slaughter Bloodreina.

Once they make it through, they finally encounter the old man himself, who has all the answers with regards to the primes, Sanctum and ridding Clarke of the devil that possesses her.

I have a strong idea that this will be how the Blakes bury the hatchet. Octavia will help Bellamy and the others to revive Clarke. Meaning Bellamy will see the good that still exists inside her. Even when he couldn’t see it, I never gave up hope of Octavia returning. A lot of you did not agree with his decision to abandon her, but I think it’s the best thing he could have done for her.

Madi vs Sheidheda

I’m still not sure what’s going on here. I’ve seen some theories about using her bone marrow in an attempt to create other nightbloods. It could be, but they have a lot of nightbloods to put to use. And Abby won’t use Madi, that’s for sure.

Also, Madi has machinery strapped to her head in the trailer, which made me think that Josephine doesn’t know how to reverse engineer “memory chip” technology like Gabriel did and will need to explore the flame to create one for Murphy.

Or perhaps Josephine fails in convincing Abby, finds out that Madi has Becca’s memories in her head and tries to download them from the flame?

Either way, Madi’s nightmares are enhanced during the experiments and she will obviously battle the dark commander for power. Without Clarke and Gaia’s guidance, she might lose, become him and in turn the villain of season 7. I just hope it doesn’t cause her death. Can you imagine Clarke returning to find Madi’s gone? She’s had to live through numerous deaths: Jake, Finn, Lexa, Marper, Jasper, please don’t do this to her.

The romance section

I don’t think we’ll see Delilah again. Jordan will do everything in his power to bring her back, just like Clarke, but I have a feeling she’s gone. For good. So, RIP Jolilah.

Emori is also on my deathdar for some reason. It’s no secret that I ship Murven, but I really don’t mind Memori. They’ve had their problems in season 5 and Murphy’s fear of dying might push them apart again. Look, some people die each season and so far it seems like there’s no further story for Emori.

Raven and Murphy have always been better when they’re in the presence of the other, but I like them as friends as well. Murphy somehow calms Raven and she inspires him to do better.

I know it’s harsh and I want Raven to be happy, but unless Raven and Ryker are endgame, I hope they don’t set them up romantically. The writers probably had a bit of a muddle with Shaw leaving for another show while wanting to give Raven a happy arc this season. Somehow, I do think all the primes will be killed (the blood of Sanctum) with the exception of Ryker since he seems a bit hesitant towards their living style. If that’s where it’s heading then I’m fine with it because they did have instant chemistry and a lot of it. More than she had with Shaw. Don't @ me. But please show it to us over time.

Please don’t hate me but I don’t think Niyalah and Octavia will become romantic either. As far as I know, Jessica Harmon is working on Izombie and I think her death is soon. Besides Octavia has to mend in herself before she can focus on relationships with other people. Including her brother.

I spy with my little eye a Becho breakup

I’ve feared that Bellamy and Echo might be a long term pairing many times before, and I’ve even sort of accepted it because I refused to let it ruin the show for me. Now, more than ever, I believe they’re on their way out. In the 6x06 promo, Echo is in the woods, searching for Octavia? She may even team up with them.

Echo does not understand Bellamy’s complexity in a way that Clarke does. On the ring, they lived in harmony, whereas now they have countless tribulations to overcome and they’re not the same people.

Also, there’s been continuous scenes where she’s shown as inferior and submissive to both him and Clarke. They bark the orders and she follows, Emori even called her out on it in 6x02. A relationship can only last between two equals.

If that’s not enough, there’s no way in hell, no mountain too high, no river too deep for Bellamy Blake to bring Clarke back. He’ll fight who has to be fought, kill who has to be killed, leave no stone unturned. One of those obstacles might even be Echo trying to convince him she’s gone. Bellamy will refuse to lose her again. When Echo sees this, she’ll realize what Clarke means to him and either confront him or cut him loose.

There is no more beautiful romance than Bellarke

Think of all the most romantic books you’ve read or movies you’ve watched. What was the trope? I bet you’ll find it in Bellarke.

Titanic - “You jump, I jump right?” - “If I’m on that list, you’re on that list.”

Beauty and the beast - Enemies to friends to lovers

Tangled - Deep, longing looks during firelight

Love in the time of cholera - A love triangle due to logicality and comfort vs love

Romeo and Juliet - A girl from a wealthy family falls for a boy from poverty. Both willing to die for the other.

The Notebook - “I wrote you one letter every day for a year.” - “When you were on the ring, she called you every day for six years.”

The Time Traveler’s wife - Two lovers constantly separated by time and space but love always prevails.

I can sit here all night. The fact of the matter is that they love each other. Of course Bellamy notices that Clarke is not herself first. Even after six years apart, he is attuned to her and knows her on such a deep and intense level that he can’t be fooled.

When she leaves to head to the school, he follows. He allows himself to be vulnerable with her when she apologizes. Clarke’s biggest regret is leaving him to die. She trusts him to bring her child home safely. He trusts her to bargain for their safety. Bellamy stares while she dances with someone else and asks about it later. Then his reaction to her overshare of the details is a mixture of confusion and jealousy.

But the best part of all is the horror and heartbreak when he finds out he’s lost her. Again. That part of his heart, only reserved for Clarke, will now come to the surface and there will be no more denial.

To wrap up, I can only speculate based on what I’ve seen and heard. So, I can’t include all the characters that have been MIA. Indra most of all. I miss her. Please let me know if you think I’m crazy. I’d love to hear it.

#The 100 #the 100 season 6 #the100 #The 100 s6 #the 100 season six #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #josephine!clarke #josephine lightbourne #octavia blake #charmaine diyoza #octavia x diyoza #raven reyes #john murphy #abby griffin #russel lightbourne #the 100 season six spoilers #the 100 s6 spoilers #echo

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whatdoyouthinkmyjobis · 7 years ago

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Hunters on the Hellmouth

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AN: More gory than typical canon. Torture. Takes place a week after chapter 30 and GND 11.

Chapter 31: Christmas on the Hellmouth

Dean pushed the cracked door open and caught Sam lying in bed reading A History of Slayers, Volume I. How the Slayer came to be and what fueled her was his latest obsession ever since he learned she was a vessel.

Dean didn’t like this track at all. They’d argued about it weeks before. “God dammit, Sammy! Why won’t you let me be happy for once?”

“I’m just curious, Dean! This has nothing to do with you and Buffy.”

“And if something stinks, what then?”

But it was Christmas Eve, and Dean didn’t want to have that fight again. He pulled the bedroom door closed and knocked so Sam could pretend he was reading something else.

“Come in.” Now Sam held one of the battered Goodwill paperbacks he kept stacked on his dresser.

“Can I grab one of your extra blankets? Dawn’s cold.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Sam’s girlfriend, Jada, was always freezing, and had filled his bedroom with what Dean estimated to be a hundred different blankets, each for a very specific temperature.

Dawn, who had been livid when her sister said she was spending Christmas Eve at their apartment, was nested on the Winchester’s couch staring at the small Christmas tree on the coffee table. “I still can’t believe you decorated,” she said, adding the purple fuzzy blanket to her pile.

Dean leaned against the arm of the couch, shifting his weight off his broken ankle. The tree, small and squat with little red balls and enough light to speckle the walls with stars, was very pretty. “Jada decorated before she headed north. She thought it would cheer us up.”

“I’m glad. I didn’t think I’d get a tree this year.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Santa ain’t leavin’ any goodies under there.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. Buffy, an expert-level eye-roller herself, found this annoying and disrespectful, but he delighted in getting a rise out of the girl. “Dean, I’m sixteen. I don’t believe in Santa.”

“Got everything you need?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Dean hobbled back to his room, already fantasizing about finding a naughty Mrs. Claus in his bed. Not that he was in any condition for sex. Moving from his bed to the bathroom meant the agonizing choice of putting pressure on his foot or his ribs. Moving his arms hurt. Laying flat hurt. Broken bones on top of Buffy’s busyness with the Potentials meant their sizzling sex life had started to fizzle.

Dawn called after him, “Hey, thanks for letting me come! Buffy was just a big wall of no.”

“You’re family, kid. Why wouldn’t you be here for Christmas?”

A flush rose to her cheeks, and she pulled the blankets up to her shocked eyes.

Waiting on his bed was something better than a vixen in red lingerie. Buffy, with a smile on her lips and sleep creeping into her eyes, had made herself comfortable in his red plaid shirt and nothing else. By her side, was a green box topped with a white bow.

“That took longer than I thought,” she said.

“Your sister wanted another blanket.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You have a broken ankle! I could have gotten it for her.”

Crawling into bed beside her, he planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “You said no presents.” The phrase boyfriend test flashed in his mind, but she didn’t look at him like he’d failed.

“No presents. Not really. This isn’t for you to keep. I just thought bows were festive, and I sort of need the distraction.”

His lingerie dream revived, he unwrapped his not-present. “A book?” It was burgundy with a stamped gold trim.

Buffy removed it from the box as he leaned against his pillow pile. “I ask you to tell me stories all the time, so I thought I’d tell you some of mine.”

It was a photo album. On the first page, an orange-tinged Polaroid of a young woman with large, deep set eyes and blonde, deflated Farrah hair in a hospital holding a baby. Beneath it Baby Girl Jan 19, ‘81. “My parents fought over what to name me, but the hospital wouldn’t let them leave until they decided. Dad wanted Jennifer, but mom said I was too special to have the same name as every girl on the block. Mom got Buffy on my birth certificate while Dad was out celebrating.”

“Smart woman.”

“She was.” Buffy grinned. “She would have liked you.”

Dean had been caught off guard when Buffy said she loved him, but the idea that her mother would have liked him was shocking. With his heavy drinking, gambling, scars and tattoos, he didn’t think of himself as the take-home-to-mom type; but then, he’d never been a there-in-the-morning guy before Buffy either.

The next few pages were a blur of a blonde baby, usually smiling, often in ruffle-butted tights. Dean secretly loved babies. They were innocent and joyful. The end of the world meant being hungry or needing a change. Suit their needs, and they’re laughing again. He tried to suppress the now familiar blonde-haired, green-eyed girl who met him in his dreams.

The baby gave way to a toddler. In every picture, she gazed at her father with complete adoration. Soon, little Buffy was ice skating and dancing. Blowing out birthday candles, heading off to school, and holding a baby sister. The Summers family went to Disneyland, had barbeques, and stuffed presents under the Christmas tree until it overflowed. Once the round-cheeked, homecoming queen version of the Buffy he knew appeared, the album ended.

“We, uh, moved to Sunnydale a little after that.” That’s when monsters became real.

“What do you think Buffy Anne Summers would be doing if she hadn’t moved to Sunnydale?” he asked.

“I don’t know. She’d be entering her last semester of college. Probably would have spent too much time partying. Sorority for sure. She’d probably be dating some popular guy because he was popular and everyone said they were cute together.”

“Doesn’t sound like you,” he said, knowing how much brushes with the supernatural changed a person.

“Popularity is a strong drug,” she said.

Burning down her high school’s gym had no doubt ousted her from her typical social circles. Much as Dean hated Buffy being tied to the Slayer until it killed her, he was grateful it had put her in his path.

“And what would Dean Winchester be doing out of Sunnydale?”

He rubbed her leg, not wanting to confess that had Cas never brought him here, he’d be drunk and scared in a no-tell motel trying to plan a Hail Mary against Heaven and Hell. “You know me, darlin’. I’m gonna be hunting evil sons a bitches wherever I am.”

“I guess you didn’t have a lot of time before...” Her voice trailed off.

“I remember a few things,” Dean said. “I played t-ball. Dad coached. We lost every game. I was pretty obsessed with rocket ships and war games. Dad always made me the general and he was a sergeant.”

“Sounds tough,” she said through a smile.

“Tough as nails. I mean, I fell down, didn’t even cry until I got home.”

He opened his nightstand and pulled out a brown, leather book. Tucked under the journal’s jacket was Dean’s entire collection of family photos, creased and foxed from being touched so often.

“This is before the fire. I think Sammy was only a month old,” he said, holding up a small picture of four happy Winchesters in front of their blue house in Lawrence.

Buffy stared at the picture, hovering her fingers over Mary. “Your mom was very pretty.”

“Yeah, she was. Sweet woman. Total badass.”

“That’s your dad?” John smiled in the picture, his arms encircling Mary and Dean, nothing on his mind but family. “I think you take after your mom.”

He only had a few pictures from his childhood. Some with his mother. Some with his father. A couple with Bobby. All of them with Sam.

“Whatever happened to those pictures we took in San Francisco?” Buffy asked.

“They’re still on my phone.”

She blushed. “Not the sexy pictures. The other ones.”

The disposable camera was in his dresser, images of the two of them enjoying themselves still trapped inside. “I haven’t gotten them developed yet. It’s been a few years since that was a thing.”

“You should. We need more happy pictures.”

Christmas evening, most of the Potentials were piled among their pillows and blankets, watching It’s a Wonderful Life on a small television while self-appointed snack-fetcher Andrew popped a third batch of popcorn.

Dani leaned against the kitchen counter and tapped Willow’s foot with hers. “Wanna join us? It’s a Christmas tradition, and what’s more traditional than a couple of lesbians heckling Jimmy Stewart?”

“Rain check,” Willow said, taking another wet cup from Buffy. “We officially have more people in the house than dishes.”

“Your loss,” she said, biting her lip and walking away.

“She’s friendly,” Buffy teased.

“Yeah, she is. But this has already been my most Christmasy Christmas. Don’t feel like topping it off with more festive,” said Willow as she refilled the cabinet with cups.

“Sorry!” Buffy cringed. The madness from The First had started in the middle of Hanukkah.

“It’s okay. My parents went out of town to visit old college buddies anyway, and Xander even lit the candles for me while my eyes were covered. I just tell myself everything’s closed because it’s Anti-Capitalism Day, not the celebration of Santa’s birth.”

“That’s festive?”

But the look on Willow’s face as she stared at water droplets on the tumblers was anything but celebratory. Last year for Winter Solstice, she and Tara had celebrated by holding hands in the pitch black house and willing the hundreds of tealights they’d spread around to spring into dancing flames. It was beautiful, like the floor was covered in stars. This December, she’d been in and out of the hospital with her own injuries and those of friends, close to losing her best friend less than a year after losing her girlfriend.

“How are you doing, non-holiday wise?” Buffy asked.

Willow rested her head on Buffy’s shoulder. “The other day, I caught myself longing for a simple vampire patrol, like how we used to with just you, me and Xander. It seemed downright quaint, and vampire patrol quaint? I’ve gotten so nostalgic for not-now that you could sprinkle a little snow on a fresh corpse and I’d find it all Norman Rockwell.”

“Picturesque. Why aren’t you making the decisions about holiday stamps?”

“I know!”

Squabbling rose in the living room.

“They can’t stay here forever,” sighed Buffy. “Either we all die horribly, or we save the day and have a dance party at The Bronze, the three of us, like old times, less the high school drama.”

“I’ll take high school drama. Getting shoved in locker is majorly preferable to nearly being blinded by an ancient evil.”

Buffy dried her hands and drew her friend in for an embrace. Willow wasn’t alone in wishing for simpler days, and time with friends -- the close friends a person could be quiet with for hours -- was sorely needed.

They released each other as a clamor of footsteps filled the house. Molly, Andrew, and Vi, a spacey redhead in a perpetual beanie who’d arrived the prior morning, searched the kitchen for snacks. “Why are all the good Christmas movies so depressing?” Vi asked. “Jimmy Stewart’s trying to kill himself. Then there’s the one with the mountain goblin invading everyone’s homes and robbing them blind. Don’t get me started on Rudolph--”

Buffy’s cell phone rang. Since everyone but the Winchesters was at her house, she headed toward her room, hoping to hear Dean’s deep voice on the other end asking what she was wearing.

Instead Dean screamed, “Buffy! Sam! They took Sam!”

Giles sped toward the Winchesters’ apartment, as Buffy called out directions. “Turn left!” she cried, causing him to squeal around a corner.

They took Sam. Dean had said nothing else before disappearing from the phone. She had no idea who took Sam or if they’d taken Dean too. He’d just stopped talking. Buffy’s heart was trying to climb out her throat.

“Stop!” she screamed, opening the door before Giles could slam on the breaks a few blocks from the apartment. On the sidewalk, a bloody, nearly naked Dean stumbled away from them.

“Dean, I’m here!”

Not seeming to see or hear her, he pressed on.

Buffy stood in front of him and shook him by his blood-slick arms. He was sweating yet cold to the touch. The gashes on his arms looked painful, but survivable. The gushing stab wounds on his shoulder and stomach made her dizzy with worry. “Dean, stop!”

He kept walking. Staring at something on the ground, he muttered, “Took him. They took him. Gotta get him back.”

“Leave that to me, okay? You’re going to freeze to death!”

He kept walking, his gait uneven with his cast foot. Losing Sam was Dean’s biggest nightmare. As with other times when he couldn’t shake his nightmares, Buffy drew back and slapped him.

Dean looked at her with tear-filled, frightened eyes. “They took him, Buffy. The Bringers broke in and took Sammy.”

He didn’t resist as Giles placed his jacket over his shoulders and directed Dean to the idling car.

“I was in my room, and I heard this big bang. Before I could even get up, Bringers were crashing through my door and window. I could hear Sam screaming. Oh God, Buffy, he was screaming and fighting, and I couldn’t get to him. I could-I couldn’t--”

“Shh! I will get Sam back. Let’s get you stitched up first.”

They retraced Dean’s bloody footsteps to find his apartment door in splinters. A dead Bringer lay nearby, a broken bookcase on top of him. By Sam’s bedroom door, another Bringer, pieces of its head blasted against the wall. As she escorted Dean to the bathroom to sew up his wounds, she glimpsed two more bodies in his bedroom.

“How many of them were there?” she asked as she wiped the blood off his chest.

“Seven? Eight? I think Sam was sleeping. Hard to stay awake on all those drugs.”

“What would they want with him?”

Dean shook his head.

“Babe, I think we need to take you to the hospital. These stab woun--”

“No! Fuck! We have to get Sam!”

Buffy had seen people in the throes of loss, but this was the first time she’d seen someone out of his mind with grief.

“One of them is alive!” Giles called.

Dean bolted from the bathroom. The Bringer under the bookcase was still twitching. Dean yanked him from under the rubble and slammed him against the wall. “Listen up you filthy fuck, you’re gonna tell me where my brother is, or I’m gonna cut it out of you.”

The Bringer coughed, spraying Dean with blood. It smiled a twisted red grin.

Scooping a dagger off the floor, Dean dug it into the Bringer’s shoulder, letting its weight hang on the blade. As it opened its mouth to scream, they saw its tongue had been cut out.

The wound in Dean’s own shoulder gushed. His eyes were dark with hate, a snarl on his lips. He looked like a stranger.

Buffy tugged on Dean’s arm. “We’re not going to get anything out of him,” she said softly.

With one swipe across the neck, Dean finished the Bringer. He stumbled back, slipped in a smear of blood, and crashed to the floor with a cry. Pale and sweaty, he began to shiver.

“Call 911,” Buffy barked at Giles.

“God dammit, Cas! Where the fuck are you?” Dean muttered.

“He’s stuck at the wrong airport. Travel’s a bitch.” A handsome middle aged man with black hair just starting to grey stood by the kitchen, a know-it-all smirk on his face. “Hell, I don’t think I could have snuck over to this fun new playground if it wasn’t for you two, always leading the blind, doomed charge.”

“Who--?” Giles didn’t need to finish his question.

Though she knew it was pointless, Buffy scanned the room for weapons. The man in front of her was dead, memorialized in Dean’s tattoos, which meant the man was The First, who they still didn’t know how to hurt.

Dean’s breathing turned short and sharp. “Dad?”

The apparition scowled. “Don’t blame me for your existence. I wanted all you muck-monkeys wiped out.”

Dean’s eyes went wide with fear. “You!”

“Finally!” The First said with a clap as Dean tried to crawl away. “You know, I’m surprised little Sammy hadn’t figured it out yet. You? Well, everyone knows you’re an idiot skating by on good looks and charm.”

Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. She couldn’t do anything about The First, but Buffy wasn’t going to lose the man she loved. Wrapping Dean in a purple blanket from the couch, she picked him up and started to head downstairs.

“This is adorable, by the way,” said The First. “Never thought I’d see Dean Winchester in puppy love. So cute. I’d root for you two kids if I wasn’t planning on torturing and killing you. For his sake, it would be kinder to let him die now.”

“No one’s dying today, asshole.”

“Dirty mouth! I see why he likes you. Well, I have go try on my new suit. You keep vainly trying to save everyone,” He raised his hands in a mock gun and fired at her with a smile, “and I’ll keep knocking them down.”

After finishing his interview with the police, Giles rubbed his temples and joined Willow, Xander, and Dawn in the hospital waiting room. He opened his eyes at a rattling sound. Willow handed him a bottle of aspirin. “Can I use the entire bottle?”

“Save some for the rest of us,” said Xander.

They looked about the room blankly, needing to focus on something other than the reality of being in the hospital again, of nearly losing Dean again, of being attacked again.

The faint sounds of Buffy arguing with a nurse drifted down the hall. Despite her insistence, the doctor wasn’t going to let anyone see Dean for a few more hours. He had a collapsed lung, and had nearly bled to death. As soon as those pressing concerns were attended to, the doctors wanted more x-rays to determine if they would need to put pins in his ankle.

“Merry Christmas,” said Dawn.

Pouring himself a cup of spoon-eroding tar from the waiting room coffee stand, Giles downed four aspirin and mulled over the situation. First Spike, now Sam. The former had been The First’s pawn. Abducting him may have been a simple matter of keeping him quiet, though he didn’t doubt Spike was being used for more nefarious purposes. But Sam? Other than their fight over a week ago, he should have been unknown to The First. And why would the Bringers take only one brother, when It had left a bloody message about both? Judging from his desire to flee, Dean recognized The First as something beyond the image of his father. How did It know their father?

“What does The First want with Sam Winchester?” Giles asked.

They turned their tired stares to him.

“I’ve not been around them enough to earn their confidence, but there is something about the Winchesters they aren’t telling us. Have they disclosed anything about their more bizarre interactions with the supernatural?”

Xander, his unsure eyes darting to the girls, started, “One time there was this cursed rabbit’s foot--”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Okay, another time a ghost just wanted someone to come to his birthday party-- ”

“Dear God, what have they been filling your head with?” Giles asked.

“In defense of all the guy-folk, we were usually pretty tipsy when these stories came out, so I may be hazy on the details.”

Buffy, her coat still smeared with blood, stormed into the waiting room. “Give someone a medical degree, and they think they know everything.”

The pounding of her pacing punished Giles’ throbbing head. “Please, sit down.”

“I can’t! I hate waiting like this! I need to either be with Dean or out saving Sam, but I don’t even know where to start!”

They didn’t know how to save Sam either, so they surrounded their friend with hugs. The edge in Buffy’s countenance softened as she drew strength from her friends.

Unfortunately, Giles could not spare her the moment of relaxation. “Would you like some coffee?”

She shook her head and slumped into a chair beside Willow.

“We were just sharing stories about the Winchesters,” Xander explained.

“Like how they’re wonderful and have made my life a thousand times easier?” Buffy pouted.

“Heaven sent, you could say,” Giles encouraged.

“Well, yeah, an angel brought them here,” said Dawn.

“And an angel brought Dean back from the brink of death.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Does no one find it odd that angels are so interested in them, and yet offered no protection against this attack?”

“Mysterious ways sure are gosh darn mysterious,” Xander said, clueless as to what Giles was driving at.

“It’s not just angels.” Willow’s eyes darted between Buffy and Giles. “I, um, I had a spell go wrong a few months back. It let me see in people, and there was something weird in Sam. Inside, he looked almost like Spike, a soul wrestling a demon. When I confronted him about it, he said the demon that killed their mom was, uh, it was feeding Sam demon blood.”

This was news. This was progress. Giles leaned forward. “Feeding demon blood to a baby. That could only be for a ritual of some kind.”

“That’s what I said, but he didn’t know anything else.”

“He doesn’t have voices tell him to do bad things, does he?” Xander asked. All three of the girls glared at him.

A chess board formed in Giles’ mind. On opposite sides, Sam and Dean, one moved by the forces of Hell, the other the forces of Heaven. Whatever the game was, it was still in play. “Buffy, I need to know the circumstances surrounding Dean and Sam’s deaths.”

“I told you: it’s private.”

“Dammit, Buffy! This isn’t about betraying privacy. It’s about saving Sam,” Giles snapped.

“How could anything that happened over there matter over here?”

“Because I think whatever was after them, followed them.”

Buffy fixated on Giles, her loyalties wrestling inside her. Finally, she whispered, “Sam was murdered right in front of Dean. Stabbed. He died in his arms...”

Dean kept his eyes closed and took stock of his body. A dull throbbing in his ankle. A stronger pain in his side. It didn’t feel like his body. It was distant, like it was floating slightly to his left. Someone was rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with their thumb. He squeezed the hand and tried to open his eyes, only catching a flash of blonde before closing them again.

Sam. Sam surrounded by men in robes. Sam screaming, the bandage on his stomach blooming red.

A far away voice. “Hey Dean, your Girly’s here.”

The Bringers. A flurry of knives. He still slept with his .45. Shot the one who broke through the window.

The voice again. It was sweet, familiar. “I’m going to fix everything.”

Another one burst through the door. Took two bullets to the chest before going down. Sam was screaming. A crash. Sam was fighting back.

“Baby, I need your help. What’s after you?”

In the living room, he saw them carrying his brother out. Couldn’t shoot or he’d hit Sammy. White hot pain. He threw a Bringer off his back. More pain ripping through his body. Head shot. Quiet. Sam was gone.

Dean could barely keep his eyes open, but he knew he was in a bed. He couldn’t save Sam from bed. He tried to get up, but something pulled at his chest. Two hands pushed his shoulders back into the mattress.

“Dean, you can’t get up, okay? You need to rest.”

“Gotta get Sammy.”

“I know.”

He tried to get up again. Buffy shoved him back into the bed. He glared at her.

“Saving Sam is my number one priority right now, or don’t you think I can do it?” Buffy asked.

He knew she couldn’t. She could kill any beast Hell threw at her, but this wasn’t a hellbeast.

“You recognized The First, didn’t you? I need you to tell me how to kill it.”

They’d broken up, in part, because of lying. Since getting back together, they’d tried to be as upfront as two monster hunters could, but there were parts of his world too crazy to share. Rather than lie, he avoided them. Steered her away whenever she got close. The questions now sat under a glaring spotlight, and he couldn’t get away. “You think I’m keeping secrets.”

She looked away, biting her lip until it turned white. “It’s what you do.”

Buffy’s eyes usually sparkled with curiosity and fire when asking him questions. Not now.

“Go get Giles,” Dean said. “I only want to say this once.”

As Dean sipped his water, Giles examined him, looking as annoyed as Buffy did concerned. “Just say it,” Dean said.

“Who are you, and how do you know The First?” Giles demanded.

All of Dean’s anti-authority snark rose up. Were Giles a cop, he’d delight in giving him the run around. But he wasn’t. He was someone who also cared about Buffy, and they were both in harm’s way because of him. “Back home, we’re going through the Apocalypse. Not one of your generic baddies trying to end the world apocalypses, a bonafide four horsemen, seal-breaking war against Heaven and Hell.”

“Revelation?” said Giles in shock.

“Bingo. It’s just skirmishes now. But when the players are big enough, skirmishes wipe out cities. The angels ain’t doin’ so hot. I think they bit off more than they could chew when they triggered the whole thing.”

“The angels started the Apocalypse? I thought they were supposed to be on our side.” Buffy so wanted allies. After his miraculous healing, she’d asked Dean daily questions about Castiel.

“With a few exceptions, angels only care about angels. Right now, Heaven’s biggest concern is bringing God back.”

Everyone’s eyes went wide. “God?”

“Story is, he went awol after Lucifer tricked Eve. Left the archangel Michael in charge.”

Giles removed his glasses and slipped into a nearby chair, his face buried in his hands.

“Thing is, they can’t really settle the fight until Michael and his brother Lucifer have a brawl.”

“Lucifer, like, the devil?” Buffy asked. “We’re talking about a red, horned guy with bad facial hair?”

“Lucifer, as in the fallen archangel with a grudge against humanity,” Dean grumbled.

Giles took a deep breath. Part of Dean thrilled at seeing the Watcher so spun by the news. “What happens if this ‘brawl,’ as you call it, takes place?”

“If Michael wins, the angels are guessing half the planet dies. If Lucifer wins…” Dean shrugged, confident they could imagine that outcome.

“What’s stopping them? They’re archangels. Can’t they do whatever they want?”

Dean set his cup back on the side table and tapped his fingers before continuing. “Remember what I told you about demon possession where we’re from? To carry out any work on Earth, angels need to possess someone, but angels are different than demons. I mean, these are beings you can’t even see without losing your eyes, and that’s just the bottom rung. They can’t possess just anyone or they’ll blow their vessel.”

“Vessel?”

“The person they’re possessing. So only a few people fit, and those people have to give the angel permission.

“Archangels have an even rougher time finding someone who’ll fit. Essentially, they have to use the Cupids--”

“Cu-cupids?” sputtered Giles. “You mean with the,” he mimed a bow and arrow.

“I mean fat naked guys who trick people into falling in love, yeah. See, they get two people who can be possessed by angels to have a baby, then make their kid fall in love with other possible angel vessels until they breed an ultra strong, dishwasher-safe, microwavable kid to keep on standby in case they want to sully their holy feet with Earth muck.

“Heaven was patting itself on the back, ‘cause they got two vessels for Michael.”

Buffy, her eyes unfocused, silently dropped into the other chair.

“Dear God,” muttered Giles.

“Only Hell wanted a vessel for Lucifer.” Unable to bear Buffy’s response, Dean stared at his hands. “They snuck into Sam’s nursery. Fed him demon blood. Claimed him and several dozen other kids for Hell. But they took a special interest in Sam. Couldn't resist the whole brother versus brother angle.

“Whatever Cas did to get us here left enough room for the Devil to squeeze through. So I gotta save Sam as soon as possible. Who knows what hell they’ll put him through to get him to say yes.”

“Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP, SAMMY!” Cold and stiff, Sam opened his eyes to see Dean standing over him. Sam was lying on the stone floor of a fire-lit chapel, his feet and hands in shackles.

“Dean, where are we?” he whispered as he tugged at his bonds.

Unbound, Dean crouched beside him, a satisfied grin on his face. “We’re in my playroom, little brother.” Then Dean shoved his hand into Sam’s chest, setting of a small, painful series of shocks to his heart.

Trembling, Sam pushed himself away, but his irons prevented him from a comfortable distance.

Dean’s warm, familiar face -- the face that had calmed Sam’s fears his entire life -- morphed into a man with deep set eyes and blistered skin.

“Lucifer!”

“I would say, ‘In the flesh,’ but I’m having a teensy problem there, Sammy. See, this world, whatever it is, is short of even inadequate vessels. All I can do is appear as the dead, which ironically includes you and your brother. I’ve had to recruit minions.”

Lucifer whistled, and two Bringers dragged in a barely conscious Spike leaving a trail of dark blood from the stump at his knee. Following close behind, was a Turok-Han. The Bringers dropped Spike at his feet and bowed before leaving.

“It’s nice to find people who share your vision for ending the world. This one,” he said as the Turok-Han kicked Spike in the ribs, “was the first creature I found here. He was stumbling through the street whining about his soul. I offered him purpose. I offered him his heart’s desires, and he didn’t deliver. He is the only creature I’ve found here that I could use, and he refused to be my vessel. Couldn’t kill your brother or the little souped-up whore he’s fucking. Spike’s still useful though.” One by one, the Turok-Han bit off Spike’s fingers while his screams filled the cave.

“Either of you say ‘yes’ and it stops.” Lucifer grinned.

Spike laughed, spending a spray of blood from his lips. “My exes are better at torture.”

“Isn’t it hilarious?” Lucifer said. “As long as we keep his head attached, the parts just grow back. He’s like an etch-a-sketch of pain. Get comfy and soak in the show, Sammy, because when my pet is finished learning the vampire’s limits, it’s your turn.”

Yes, Amends. Addressed in a future chapter.

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Daily Office Readings December 29, 2019 at 11:00PM

Psalm 20-21

Psalm 20

Prayer for Victory

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 The Lord answer you in the day of trouble! The name of the God of Jacob protect you! 2 May he send you help from the sanctuary, and give you support from Zion. 3 May he remember all your offerings, and regard with favor your burnt sacrifices.Selah

4 May he grant you your heart’s desire, and fulfill all your plans. 5 May we shout for joy over your victory, and in the name of our God set up our banners. May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.

6 Now I know that the Lord will help his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with mighty victories by his right hand. 7 Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God. 8 They will collapse and fall, but we shall rise and stand upright.

9 Give victory to the king, O Lord; answer us when we call.[a]

Psalm 21

Thanksgiving for Victory

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 In your strength the king rejoices, O Lord, and in your help how greatly he exults! 2 You have given him his heart’s desire, and have not withheld the request of his lips.Selah 3 For you meet him with rich blessings; you set a crown of fine gold on his head. 4 He asked you for life; you gave it to him— length of days forever and ever. 5 His glory is great through your help; splendor and majesty you bestow on him. 6 You bestow on him blessings forever; you make him glad with the joy of your presence. 7 For the king trusts in the Lord, and through the steadfast love of the Most High he shall not be moved.

8 Your hand will find out all your enemies; your right hand will find out those who hate you. 9 You will make them like a fiery furnace when you appear. The Lord will swallow them up in his wrath, and fire will consume them. 10 You will destroy their offspring from the earth, and their children from among humankind. 11 If they plan evil against you, if they devise mischief, they will not succeed. 12 For you will put them to flight; you will aim at their faces with your bows.

13 Be exalted, O Lord, in your strength! We will sing and praise your power.

Footnotes:

Psalm 20:9 Gk: Heb give victory, O Lord; let the King answer us when we call

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 23

The Divine Shepherd

A Psalm of David.

1 The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 2 He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;[a] 3 he restores my soul.[b] He leads me in right paths[c] for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,[d] I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 6 Surely[e] goodness and mercy[f] shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.[g]

Footnotes:

Psalm 23:2 Heb waters of rest

Psalm 23:3 Or life

Psalm 23:3 Or paths of righteousness

Psalm 23:4 Or the valley of the shadow of death

Psalm 23:6 Or Only

Psalm 23:6 Or kindness

Psalm 23:6 Heb for length of days

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Psalm 27

Triumphant Song of Confidence

Of David.

1 The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold[a] of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

2 When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh— my adversaries and foes— they shall stumble and fall.

3 Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident.

4 One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.

5 For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock.

6 Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord.

7 Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! 8 “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, Lord, do I seek. 9 Do not hide your face from me.

Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation! 10 If my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up.

11 Teach me your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies. 12 Do not give me up to the will of my adversaries, for false witnesses have risen against me, and they are breathing out violence.

13 I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. 14 Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

Footnotes:

Psalm 27:1 Or refuge

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

1 Kings 17:17-24

Elijah Revives the Widow’s Son

17 After this the son of the woman, the mistress of the house, became ill; his illness was so severe that there was no breath left in him. 18 She then said to Elijah, “What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son!” 19 But he said to her, “Give me your son.” He took him from her bosom, carried him up into the upper chamber where he was lodging, and laid him on his own bed. 20 He cried out to the Lord, “O Lord my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I am staying, by killing her son?” 21 Then he stretched himself upon the child three times, and cried out to the Lord, “O Lord my God, let this child’s life come into him again.” 22 The Lord listened to the voice of Elijah; the life of the child came into him again, and he revived. 23 Elijah took the child, brought him down from the upper chamber into the house, and gave him to his mother; then Elijah said, “See, your son is alive.” 24 So the woman said to Elijah, “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth.”

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

3 John

Salutation

1 The elder to the beloved Gaius, whom I love in truth.

Gaius Commended for His Hospitality

2 Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, just as it is well with your soul. 3 I was overjoyed when some of the friends[a] arrived and testified to your faithfulness to the truth, namely how you walk in the truth. 4 I have no greater joy than this, to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

5 Beloved, you do faithfully whatever you do for the friends,[b] even though they are strangers to you; 6 they have testified to your love before the church. You will do well to send them on in a manner worthy of God; 7 for they began their journey for the sake of Christ,[c] accepting no support from non-believers.[d] 8 Therefore we ought to support such people, so that we may become co-workers with the truth.

Diotrephes and Demetrius

9 I have written something to the church; but Diotrephes, who likes to put himself first, does not acknowledge our authority. 10 So if I come, I will call attention to what he is doing in spreading false charges against us. And not content with those charges, he refuses to welcome the friends,[e] and even prevents those who want to do so and expels them from the church.

11 Beloved, do not imitate what is evil but imitate what is good. Whoever does good is from God; whoever does evil has not seen God. 12 Everyone has testified favorably about Demetrius, and so has the truth itself. We also testify for him,[f] and you know that our testimony is true.

Final Greetings

13 I have much to write to you, but I would rather not write with pen and ink; 14 instead I hope to see you soon, and we will talk together face to face.

15 Peace to you. The friends send you their greetings. Greet the friends there, each by name.

Footnotes:

3 John 1:3 Gk brothers

3 John 1:5 Gk brothers

3 John 1:7 Gk for the sake of the name

3 John 1:7 Gk the Gentiles

3 John 1:10 Gk brothers

3 John 1:12 Gk lacks for him

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

John 4:46-54

Jesus Heals an Official’s Son

46 Then he came again to Cana in Galilee where he had changed the water into wine. Now there was a royal official whose son lay ill in Capernaum. 47 When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. 48 Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you[a] see signs and wonders you will not believe.” 49 The official said to him, “Sir, come down before my little boy dies.” 50 Jesus said to him, “Go; your son will live.” The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started on his way. 51 As he was going down, his slaves met him and told him that his child was alive. 52 So he asked them the hour when he began to recover, and they said to him, “Yesterday at one in the afternoon the fever left him.” 53 The father realized that this was the hour when Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” So he himself believed, along with his whole household. 54 Now this was the second sign that Jesus did after coming from Judea to Galilee.

Footnotes:

John 4:48 Both instances of the Greek word for you in this verse are plural

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

#December 29 #2019 at 11:00PM

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dailyofficereadings · 7 years ago

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Daily Office Readings December 29, 2017 at 11:00PM